#blue eyes x oc

[mirkwoodshewolf]

No following; Planet of the apes fanfic Chap. 13

*Author's note*

Get the tissues out for this chapter guys cause this one gets pretty sad in the beginning but also some pure AWW moments as well. Here we also get to see the blooming relationship b/t Aunt Lin and Blue Eyes. Sorry not sorry for the large length of this chapter but this needed to be done before the war that's about to begin in the next chapter. So enjoy my darling Ape fans.

WARNING AHEAD: Graphic details of ape attacks and mauling in the first part of the chapter. Like this is what actual ape attacks are like if none of you know about it so those who have weak stomachs or are sensitive to such graphic detail, just skim on down a few paragraphs and you'll be okay.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@psychosupernatural

@waddles03

@gay-and-ready-to-cry

@queen-paladin

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When the first sign of dawn was approaching, I finally took the plunge and got out from my hiding spot and navigated my way back towards the main road.  I don’t know if Malcolm and the others survived, and to be honest I didn’t care.  They brought this upon themselves the second Carver was assigned to come on this mission.

And because of him Caesar was now…..I soon felt myself trip over something and I exclaimed.

“Damn it all! Stupid rocks making me trip…..” I trailed off before I shrieked at what I saw.  It wasn’t a rock that I had tripped over, it was Kemp’s body.

Had I not know that those were his clothes, I wouldn’t have even recognized him.  His face had been completely torn to shreds, his nose ripped completely off his face, his teeth beaten out and his hands completely torn apart, hardly any fingers were left on his hands.  I turned just ahead and I saw Foster’s body not too far from Kemp’s.  Much like Kemp, his face had been completely ripped apart, his clothes torn apart and much in chimp fashion his dick had been completely ripped out.

“Jesus Christ.” I muttered as I stood up and raced away from the gruesome sight.  I have seen horrible deaths before in the past ten years but I think for Foster and Kemp, their bodies will forever stick out as the most gruesome and horrifying way to go.  Death by vengeful apes.

I continued to walk down the trail, the distant smell of smoke rising over the trees from where the ape home had been burnt.  By now the fire must’ve receded and all that would be left is the trail of smoke.  I continued to walk aimlessly down the hill until I came across another figure.

I gasped and collapsed to my knees, my legs feeling like lead as I saw a figure I’d hoped I didn’t have to see in such a state.  It was Caesar.

He was laying on his back, the gunshot wound so close to his heart. A pool of blood staining his fur, and his green eyes still opened but he remained still.

I felt sick to my stomach but I also felt a heartbreak that I hadn’t felt in years.  Caesar was the only remaining family I had left in this world and now—now the entire Rodman troop was gone.  Grandpa was dead, Will and Caroline are dead, and now Ceasar’s…..

As I finally knelt beside him I felt the burning sensation past my eyes as I slowly reached out and finally touched his face.  His fur felt course from the years of exposure but it still had such a shine to it.  Tears slipped past my eyes as I let out choked sobs.  Shaking my head as I leaned my forehead against his and continued to stroke his face as well as down his chest, careful to avoid his wound.

“No…..” I silently choked out.  The tears now fully starting to roll down my face.  “NOOO!!!” I soon screamed out in all manners of despair, grief, rage and shock.  I threw myself over Caesar’s body as I wept into his chest stroking through his fur as the only sign of comfort.  “I’m sorry brother ape….” I whimpered out.

As I continued to sob, I rolled over to my side so that my ear now rested over his chest and I continued to sob.  My hair blocking half of my face as I continued to weep in my brother ape’s chest.

“It’s my fault… It’s all my fault….” I choked almost silently as I continued to stroke through Caesar’s fur.

“Dad!” I heard Alexander’s voice call out.  At this point I didn’t care how they’d see me now.  I know I tried to create a reputation for them these past three years but at this point I didn’t care anymore.  Let them put the pieces together of what Caesar means to me, let them figure out who I am, I didn’t care.

All I wanted was to just grieve over my little brother in peace.

I closed my eyes and just continued to stroke Caesar’s fur and succumbed to my grief.

“Lin.” Ellie’s sympathetic tone rang in my ears.  I sniffled and buried myself deeper into Caesar’s fur.  That’s when I felt a finger softly stroke up my spine.  “Lin!” this time Ellie’s voice became more alarmed.

When my brain finally connected that it wasn’t Ellie who had touched me, I looked up and saw Caesar’s eyes starting to flicker with movement.  His chest ever so slowly rising and falling as he directed his attention to me.

“Caesar?” I called out as I cupped his face while Ellie called for Malcolm with such urgency.

“Hang on Caesar, we’re going to get you help. Ellie, Alexander get over here and help me!” they came over and soon Malcolm appeared and asked.

“What is it? What….”

“He’s alive!” I told him.

“What? But…..”

“Now’s not the time for questions. It’s gonna take all of us to move him. Please tell me the trucks are close by.” I said urgently.

“Yeah, they’re just down the hill.”

“Alright. Malcolm, Ellie I’d like for you guys to take Caesar’s upperbody, Alexander, you and I will get his legs. Try to keep him evenly balanced and don’t jostle him around too much. I believe the bullet might still be in him.”

“How can you tell?” asked Alexander.

“Trust me, I know the difference in a pool of blood from a bullet wound with an exit point vs one that doesn’t.” we all gathered around Caesar.  Malcolm and Ellie placing their arms under his back while Alexander and I got his feet.  “Alright remember to lift with your knees, we’re carrying a chimpanzee’s dead weight and it’s gonna be heavy. On three together, ready?” Malcolm and his family nodded as I counted down, “One…two…three. Lift. Gently, gently. Careful.”

Very carefully we all lifted Caesar’s body off the floor.  I looked at the grass and it gave me my confirmation that there was indeed no exit wound so this was going to be even more painful for Caesar if we move him too much.

“Alright Malcolm, lead us on.”

“Lin, there’s….something I should warn you about.” Malcolm said to me.

“There’s no time you can explain on the way. We’ve got to move Caesar now.” Malcolm didn’t say another word as we proceeded to walk towards the trucks.

Along the way the corner of my eye caught something white and when I turned around I was mortified at what it was.  It was Kiba lying in a pool of blood, the top half of his muzzle almost completely bitten off, parts of his face, neck and legs had large chunks bitten off, but his fangs were also stained with blood so I knew he didn’t go down without a fight.

“I’m sorry Lin. And it wasn’t just him.” Malcolm said solemnly.  My heart broke as more tears slid down my face.

“We need to keep moving.” We continued to walk and as we did, I soon saw that Tsume, Toboe and Hige had met the same fate as Kiba did.  Large bite wounds, gauged eyes, beaten or ripped off noses, and their furs stained with large pools of blood.

We finally got to one of the trucks and we carefully got Caesar into the back of the truck.  It was a struggle but we finally managed to do it and I immediately got into the back with him.  I took notice of how he was now fully conscious and aware of where he was now.

“Lin….” He said with a gruff, hinting at the exhaustion I knew that was consuming him.

“Shhh, shh, shh. Try not to speak, you lost a lot of blood.” I told him softly as I began putting pressure on the wound.

“My…..son.” I looked up at Caesar and saw just how frightened and broken he was.  The desperation and fear that he didn’t know what happened to his family after he was shot. “My…..family.” his lip trembled and it broke my heart to see him this afraid.  “Where?”

“I don’t know.” I told him honestly as I softly shook my head. “I’m so sorry Caesar.” But it didn’t help as I saw a tear slip down past his eye.  And his heartbreaking expression deepened made me feel like I had gotten punched in the gut.

“Lin, I need you to keep pressure on his wound.” Ellie told me.  I nodded as I took out my bandana and placed it over his wound before once again pressing down on it.

“Lin’s right, he’s lost a lot of blood. And with the bullet still in him…..” Ellie started off but then trailed off.

“Is he going to make it?” asked Alexander.

“I don’t understand. I mean where did Carver get the gun? Why would he do this?” Malcolm asked.

“Ape.” Caesar’s voice soon spoke up.  We all looked to Caesar.  Malcolm walked closer to Caesar so that he didn’t need to speak louder.

“What?”

“Ape….did….this.” it was then my mind began clicking all the pieces together.

“Koba.” I said.  Malcolm and his family turned to me, “The bonobo that tried to attack us yesterday. He must’ve killed my pack first, then Carver before taking his gun and…..” I trailed off not even wanting to say it.

“But Carver isn’t here.” Ellie said.

“Koba must’ve dragged it off somewhere after finishing him off. No point in going to find him, we need to get Caesar help.” I deducted.

“But Foster and Kemp. We got separated from them shouldn’t we go look for them?” asked Alexander.

“They’re dead too. Found them this morning, hell I tripped over Kemp’s corpse this morning by accident. And if you’d like to keep whatever ounce of humanity you have left, I’d advise not going to look for them. Trust me, what you’ve seen chimps do to my wolves is nothing compared to what that type of rage and power can do to a human.” I said grimly.

Malcolm and his family looked at me terrified before Malcolm snapped out of it and ordered to his family.

“Get in the truck.” Ellie was about to get in the back when I told her.

“I’ll take care of him.” She looked at me but then nodded and closed the trunk door and rode up front with Malcolm while Alexander got in the backseat and soon Malcolm drove us out of the Redwoods and back into the city.

When we got there, all we could see was smoke rising into the sky from where the colony was.

“Oh my god, look. The colony’s on fire.”

“Where are we gonna go?” asked Alexander.  I looked out through the streets and I felt a wave of nostalgia overcome me.  Even though it had been ten years since I came through this part of the city I knew it like the back of my hand.

“I know somewhere we can lay low.” I told them.

“Where’s that?” asked Malcolm.

“Keep going straight until you reach the third stop sign, then make a right.” I told them.  With no more questions asked, Malcolm did as I told him and I looked down at Caesar. ‘You ready to go home little brother?’ I quickly signed to him.  Caesar let out a huff as the corners of his lips tilted upward in a smile, and his eyes softly shined with the same loving look of nostalgia I was feeling.

It was a couple minutes after going right when I told him to make a left and then continue straight until I told him to stop.  Even for being consumed by Mother nature’s natural embrace, the streets and homes were all still the same as I could see the very street where I grew up in.

“Are we close Lin?” asked Ellie.

“We’re getting there, just a few more houses.” I told her.  It was then Caesar began to take notice of where we were and he started to let out some proud gibbers.  “This is it, Malcolm stop the car!” the truck soon came to a stop as we now stood before mine and Caesar’s home.

It was almost completely encompassed with weeds and the ever growing trees, save for the attic window where Caesar’s room was.  Even my uncle’s old BMW station wagon was almost unrecognizable but I knew that car anywhere.  Along with my old motorcycle that stood beside it.

“This is it. We’ll be safe here.” I told them.

“Are you sure?” Alexander asked me unsure.

“It doesn’t matter, we just need a place to hide him.” Malcolm told his son.

“Alex, see if you can’t get the door opened. Knock it down if you must. Malcolm, you, Ellie and I will get Caesar.” Ellie opened the trunk door and I stepped out taking Caesar by the underarms and slowly dragged him out.

He let out a pained grunt as he was moved until Ellie and Malcolm were able to grab him and the three of us got back into our carrying positions and walked Caesar towards the house.  By the time we reached the porch, Alexander was finally able to kick down the door and I said.

“Turn immediately left, there’s a couch we can set him down on for now.” Malcolm and Ellie followed my directions and we carefully moved Caesar to the living room.  “Move the table Alexander.” He pushed the old table aside allowing us more room to set Caesar down on the orange couch.

Even with the rotting floors, the peeling wallpaper, the immense dust and the odd smell or two, I was hit with a thousand thoughts, smells and feelings that I had long, long forgotten.

Once Caesar was settled, I cupped his face and smiled down at him.  Long have I waited to bring him home but I had wished it wouldn’t be in these circumstances.

“Dad, look.” Alexander soon took a picture from the mantle and showed it to his dad.  I immediately knew what picture it was without needing to see it and I demanded.

“Put that back!” The three of them looked at me in shock while Alexander also looked at me fearfully.  “Just because we’re here, doesn’t give you the right to go poking around other people’s belongings.” I glared at them before gesturing down to Caesar.

“We need to operate but I don’t have anything. There’s a surgical kit back at the place but that’s…..” Ellie spoke up changing the subject entirely.

“I’ll go.” Malcolm interrupted her.  Ellie turned to her boyfriend with a look of fear in her eyes.

“It’s not safe.”

“He’s the only one that can stop this.” Said Malcolm.

“There’s not much here that we can use as a substitute med kit. We’ve got no other choice, if we don’t get the bullet out of him now he’ll die.” I felt Caesar’s hand softly take mine and gave it a comforting squeeze.  My rage slowly simmered down as I felt his hand take mine and I took a few deep breaths.  “I’ll be damned if I lose him now. Go Malcolm. And don’t get spotted.”

He nodded and he soon left the house to go get Ellie’s med-pack.  Meanwhile as Ellie and Alexander began unpacking the sleeping bags and making my home feel like theirs, I remained eternally at Caesar’s side, stroking his hand that still held mine.

“When you’re done you both can wash up. Bathroom’s upstairs second door to the left.” I said not looking at them.

“This was your home. Wasn’t it Lin?” Ellie asked me in more of a statement than a question.  I remained silent for a moment and told them.

“I’ll explain everything to you once Malcolm returns. But I won’t have you operate on Caesar with filthy hands.” I briefly turned and gave her a stern but truthful look.  She nodded and told Alexander to follow her upstairs.

When we were finally alone I turned back to Caesar and cupped his face once again and asked him.

“Do you remember your third birthday Caesar? When I played you E.T’s flying theme on the violin?” Caesar’s green eyes looked at me with such warmth and affection.  “It was right here, you and gramps sitting together and uncle Will in the back with the video camera. You were so entranced by my performance, even though I felt like it wasn’t enough of a gift for you. But you loved it and I think that was what really pushed me into wanting to become a composer in the future, because I wanted to not only make people feel something, but animals also feel the joy of music.”

Caesar gave me a soft nod as well as a small smile.

“And the time we first took you to the Redwoods. You were so excited, you couldn’t help but gawk at all the tall trees. You were like a kid in a candy shop. As you went to climb your first tree, you nearly gave Uncle Will a heart attack. He thought you’d hurt yourself but I knew better. You always were the better climber. And I broke my leg because of that reason, remember? When I thought I could climb one of the trees and I fell on my leg when I was 14.”

I don’t know if it was just being here that made me think about all these memories that I hadn’t thought about since being forced out of this house and never being allowed to come back.  Or just having Caesar here at my side after all these years, or even I’m just trying to distract myself from what’s happening right now (perhaps it is the third option, I don’t know).

But it at least distracted me for a moment and allowed me to fully grieve over what I had truly lost.

“Or how about the time when we tried to cook Caroline’s and Will’s second anniversary dinner. We nearly set the whole house on fire, all because someone wasn’t watching the stir-fry.” Caesar let out a soft grunt before pointing at me. “Yeah, you’re right it was my fault. And I learned an important lesson that day; Water and grease fires do not mix.” I softly laughed brokenly.

Jesus Christ I really have closed off all my emotions during my days in the military because the tears just wouldn’t stop coming as I looked at Caesar and gripped his hand as tightly as I could.

“Please don’t leave me. There…there’s still so much you have to live for.  I’ve already seen our whole family die before me. Please don’t you die before me too brother Ape.” I raised our hands to my face as I wept into them.  I felt Caesar’s rough, leathery finger gently wipe away my tears and he said to me.

“Won’t….give…up.” the tears continued to fall down my face but I smiled as best I could while pressing my face closer to our encompassed ones.

About 20 minutes passed and as Ellie and Alexander had long joined us in the living room waiting for Malcolm to return.  Ellie occasionally checking his progress until finally Malcolm came in through the door with Ellie’s med-pack.

“I got it, how is he?” he asked as he came in through the door.  But before anyone could answer, another shadow suddenly came around the corner and we were shocked to see who it was.

It was Caesar’s eldest son.  He held a large rifle upward in his hand but as he turned and saw his father clinging to life on the couch, his emotionless face soon turned to shock as he slowly set the rifle down.

Caesar was above all relieved that his son was alright and hadn’t been killed in the ongoing war between Man and Ape.  I slowly backed away to give the father and son a moment together, his son had taken my place before Caesar and Caesar panted out.

“Your…mother. Brother…..safe?” his son knelt down before his father and signed to him.

‘For now.’ Caesar sighed in relief as his head rolled over to the side.  We had to operate fast, I’m surprised he managed to survive this long but if we don’t do something soon, he’ll die.  I watched as his son looked at his father’s wound before turning to us growling aggressively.

We all stepped back and I held my hands up in surrender.  I truly didn’t blame his son for thinking that we could’ve been the ones to do this to Caesar.  After all it was a human weapon that nearly killed him.

“No. No.” Caesar reached out for his son.  His son turned back to his father as Caesar continued, “Not human…..Koba.”

“Malcolm.” Ellie whispered to him. Malcolm nodded and took his son out of the house.  Ellie slowly came around and I came onto the other side.  “Caesar, we need to do this now.” Ellie knelt down and began taking out everything she needed to operate.

“Son.” Caesar said to his son as he held out his hand.  Almost immediately, his son took his father’s hand while I stood over Caesar’s head.

“Lin, I’m gonna need you to hold him down once I take the bullet out. First I’ll apply the anesthesia but with the bullet being in him for as long as it has, I don’t know if it’ll be enough.” Ellie told me.  I nodded and turned to his oldest son and signed to him.

‘I’m not as strong as you are. Think you can help me if I can’t keep your father still?’ the young male chimp looked at me.  His blue eyes burning with fear, betrayal, anxiety and doubt.

“Trust….her.” Caesar huffed almost silently.  Before his eyes began to shut.

“Hey, hey Caesar, come on big guy. Stay awake now, don’t you go passing out now.” I said lightly tapping his face as I knelt closer to him.  Ellie found the anastatic and applied it around the wound area before getting out her other tools to help dig out the bullet.

It was a long, strenuous and agonizing process.  But Caesar’s son did help me to keep his father still when Caesar began to get too rowdy.  I had seen this many times out in the field and getting a bullet out is not an easy nor for the sensitive stomach.

There is this god awful stench that comes out when the wound is exposed after getting shot.  The rotting tissue is something so foul that I can’t even put it into words.  And it’s excruciatingly painful, and I would know cause I’ve been on both ends of the spectrum.

After a long, grueling 45 minute surgery, Ellie was finally able to get the bullet out of Caesar and stitch him up.  Caesar by now had long passed out from the pain alone but he held on as long as he could.  Never have I seen someone fight as long as he did, now it was up to him on whether he wakes up after such a prolonged surgery.

Ellie went outside to join Malcolm and Alexander, her hands stained with Caesar’s blood and I knew I had to keep my end of the bargain and tell them everything.  I turned to Caesar’s son who still had his father’s hand in his and was watching him with worried eyes.

“Your father’s the strongest ape I know. I’ve seen stronger men cry and scream like babies at surgeries like this. I’m no different, having been shot myself.” I lifted my shirt up just a bit to reveal a bullet wound that got into the side of my stomach.  “He just needs to rest and soon he’ll awaken.”

His son looked up at me and signed.

‘My question from before. Will you give me your answer?’ I smiled softly.

“How about this, look at the top of the mantle over there. Look at some of the pictures and you might know why. For now I’ve got a family I need to explain a lot of things to.” I soon left their side and slowly came out of the house.

Malcolm and his family turned to me and I came down the stairs before standing before them.

“I lied about who I was.” I told them.  “When you found me passed out on the streets and healed me up, I introduced myself as Lin Powell. My real last name is Rodman.”

“Rodman. As in…..” Ellie started off but I interrupted her with a nod.

“Leading scientist of Gen-Sys William Rodman. He was my uncle.” They looked at me with the expressions I knew they’d have.  Betrayal, anger, shock, and confusion.  “My grandfather, Charles Rodman was a popular music teacher and composer. But he developed Alzheimer’s when I was really young, which forced my uncle to take care of not only me but him as well. That’s why he got so fixated on trying to find the cure for it, and why they chose chimpanzees since we share only a 2% difference in DNA. Caesar’s mother was their perfect subject till she gave birth to Caesar. At first they thought the drug made her aggressive, but after killing her and putting down all the other test subjects, they soon found newborn Caesar in her holding cell. My uncle then brought Caesar home to me and my grandpa. Temporarily until he soon found out that Caesar inherited the ALZ-112 from his mother. We raised him, my uncle monitored his intelligence growth, I just treated him like my brother.”

“Your brother?” questioned Alexander.

“Even though he was an ape, I knew Caesar was special. There was no way I’d treat him like a pet. He understood me, was there for me. Throughout the years we had together we eventually formed this incredible bond. It’s like…..like we were meant to be together always. But my family life wasn’t perfect, my grandpa’s health was rapidly growing worse, I’d thought we’d lose him forever. Until my uncle gave him the ALZ-112 as a last, desperate effort.”

“Without a successful human trial?” asked Ellie.

“Believe me when I first found out why grandpa’s health was getting better I hated my uncle for it. He decided to play God and see if the drug would’ve cured my grandfather of the disease. But looking back at it now, I see why he did it. If someone you loved, was forgetting everything they’ve ever lived through, forgetting every person they’ve ever loved, until they become nothing but a hollow, soulless shell of their former selves, could you bear to see that happen? Hell I would’ve done the same thing in his shoes. But when he gave my grandpa the drug, he didn’t just recover he improved. He improved far better than I remember seeing him be. At least for five years.”

“His body developed anti-bodies.” Ellie deducted.

“CDC taught you well Ellie.” I commented. “Yes. The disease came back with a vengeance for my grandfather. And it all happened next door when we got into my neighbor’s car by accident thinking it was his own car. I went out to defend my grandfather from the bastard, but I was punched, and my grandfather continued getting berated. That’s when Caesar came and defended us. Like his mother did for him, Caesar went full protective mode to protect gramps and avenge me.”

Memories of that god awful day came flooding back to me as I closed my eyes and tried to hold back the tears.

“After attacking our neighbor, Caesar was taken away from us by court order. Kept in a cage at the San Bruno Primate shelter just 20 miles north from here. Then things just went downhill from there. My uncle heavily poured not only into his work to try and find a more aggressive drug to help my grandfather who was greatly deteriorating before our eyes, but also bring Caesar home. But it all proved to be useless in the end. Grandpa died, Caesar refused to come home, and soon the apes escaped the shelter and the zoo. And well you all know the rest from there.”

They remained silent.  Alexander couldn’t bare to look at me while Ellie and Malcolm occasionally looked at me before looking back down.

“Now you see why I couldn’t tell anyone who I really was. The name ‘Rodman’ is a curse. Hell I’ll bet that’s why they didn’t bother to tell me when my uncle died. Because the man who was responsible for all of this, his life isn’t worth a damn. And anyone who bears his name is marred for life. I won’t force you all to pretend I’m still family as you so claim. I can never belong to anyone anymore. Once Caesar is awake, you all can leave if you wish.”

I headed back up the stairs and entered inside the living room once again.  Caesar was still unconscious with no signs of changes.  His chest slowly rising and falling while his son was looking at the pictures I had told him to look at.  I softly cleared my throat and he turned to face me as he held the same picture Alexander had shown his dad.

‘Who is this human?’ he signed to me.

“In a way, if you wish to call him this. That was your grandfather. Will Rodman. He had his flaws but he was a good man, and he loved your father very much. Just like I did.”

‘You once called father, Brother Ape.’

“And I meant every word of it. No matter what species we were, your father and I shared a special bond with each other. He was my little brother and I was his big sister. And I know your mother tried to force it on you last night but you don’t have to force yourself to see me as your aunt. I won’t be hurt or offended if you choose not to.”

The young chimp placed the picture back on the mantle and walked over towards me.  We stood face to face of each other before he then pointed to his right eye.  I looked at him confused before he gestured to his eye again.  I then signed to him as I said.

“Are you telling me your name?” he nodded.  I raised my brow and asked, “Eyes? Is that really your name?” he let out an amused huff before closely gesturing to his eye.  That’s when it clicked with me, compared to the other apes he didn’t have the green eyes that the drug gave them.  “Blue Eyes. That’s your name?” he gave me a soft smile and nodded.  I smiled back and extended my hand, “Pleasure to finally meet you, Blue Eyes.”

He then slowly reached out and took my hand in his and I slowly moved it up and down in a handshake.

“Come with me, if you’d like to know why else I saved you from Carver.” I released his hand and lead him upstairs towards the attic.  I reached up and pulled the string down allowing the stairs to come down and I went up the stairs first followed by Blue Eyes.

When we finally came into Caesar’s old room, I allowed Blue Eyes to walk forward first and he saw for himself where his father grew up.  The spacious attic with the monkey bars that had long been rusted, all of his puzzles and models that had been preserved, and his old bed.

Blue Eyes curiously waddled towards the bed, grabbed the sheets and took a sniff of them, probably smelling the faint scent of his father from long ago.  He looked around the attic as he continued to look around his father’s old room.

Carefully stroking his fingers along the old models his father built, the puzzles he’s completed and the drawings he’s made.

“I don’t know what knowing all of this will do with your relationship between you and your father. But just know this Blue Eyes. We raised your father with nothing but love, compassion, and decency.” I then left him alone in the attic and proceeded to head to my old room.

When I opened the door, I was greeted with the faded chippings of my old posters I once had hung up.  Movie posters, concert brochures, and old photos of me and my friends who were long dead since the early days of the Simian Flu outbreak.

It was almost as if I hadn’t left, everything was still the same.  Even my bed that still hadn’t been made up since Caroline’s death when the CDC officials broke in and condemned our home under max Quarantine.  I looked under the bed and pulled out the old suitcase that I had packed everything that was related to Caesar and I.

I reached underneath my shirt and pulled out my old dog tag chain to not only reveal my old military ID tags but also the key that went to this very suitcase.  I figured in case there ever was a chance I wanted to look back into this old thing, I’d always keep the key close to my heart.  I placed it into the lock and even after all this time, it still managed to unlock and I slowly opened it.

Bit by bit I pulled out all the scrapbooks, photos, drawings he had done until I came to the very first scrapbook I made of Caesar and myself.  I opened it and it revealed the first photo that Caesar and I ever shared.

He had only been five days old and I was holding him in my arms, his arms clinging around my neck as he gave me a kiss to my cheek.  I turned to the next page and saw all the drawings he had made for me personally without showing them to Will.  They were all drawings of me or me and him together playing some game.  There was also a hand print picture that the two of us did together with paints.  It had my hand followed by his small one just covering my palm.

I turned to another page and saw more pictures of us together through the first year of his life.  Pictures that I took or that Will had taken.  Baking cakes together, giving him a piggy back ride through the house, playing with some of my old toys, or eating cupcakes for either of our birthdays.

Flipping through each page brought more tears to my eyes when I heard the creeks of the floor behind me and when I turned around I saw Blue Eyes standing outside my door.  Curiously he came into my room and sat down beside me and looked down at the scrapbook.

“This picture of us together eating the cupcakes, that was for your great-grandfather Charles birthday party. I’ll tell yah when your father got into the flour…..hoho boy was your grandpa not happy about that. But it turned out to be a good day.”

I continued the tell Blue Eyes various stories about certain pictures that were taken or drawings his father had done.  And he hung onto every word I said and every story that I told him, he became invested and wanted to know more.

As the night went on, we migrated back downstairs to check on Caesar who was still unconscious.  Malcolm, Ellie and Alexander still hadn’t come back inside so they must’ve decided to either take rest in the trucks or find another house to sleep in for the night.

Well let them do them.  I didn’t care, really I didn’t.  Blue Eyes once again looking at the picture of Will and Caesar together when suddenly Caesar let out a gasp and woke up.  I came over to him and said.

“It’s okay, it’s okay Caesar. You’re home and you’re safe, it’s alright.”

“Lin.” He panted my name.

“Yes. I’m here little brother, I’m here. And so is your son.” I said stroking along his face before turning to his son.  I stood up and allowed Blue Eyes to take my place at sitting beside Caesar on the couch while I took the floor beside him.

Both father and son looked at each other with teary eyed expression and silence before Blue Eyes signed to his father in regret.

‘I’m so sorry…for everything.’

“No.” Caesar told him softly shaking his head. “I….am to blame.”

‘But Koba betrayed you.’

“I…..chose to trust him….because he is ape. I always think….ape better than human. I see now….how much like them we are.”

“There’s always good and evil inside of everyone Caesar. Whether human or animal. And while we raised you to be good, unfortunately Koba chose to spiral down the path of vengeance and hatred. But you can’t blame yourself for that. You didn’t force him to turn to the dark side.” Caesar briefly looked at me as I stroked through the fur on top of his head before he asked his son.

“Where….Koba now?”

‘On the human tower. Loyal apes around him.’ Blue Eyes signed.

“And those who not follow?”

‘Prisoners.’ Replied Blue Eyes.  His eyes brimming red with tears as he signed out the names, ‘Maurice. Rocket.’ I then noticed how he gave a sniffle as something else was going through his mind.  ‘Koba killed Ash.’ Blue Eyes signed as he softly sobbed.

Ape not kill Ape.  That’s the law I remembered seeing written back at their colony, and what Caesar had said to Koba back at the dam when he would’ve killed him then and there.  But not only to nearly kill Caesar but actually succeed in killing another ape…..the apes didn’t deserve an ape like that for a leader.

‘Fear makes others follow. But when they see you alive…they will turn from Koba.’

“Not….if I am weak. Ape….always seek strongest branch.” Unfortunately that was a fact.  The ape who proves themselves to be the strongest becomes the leader of the troop.  If Caesar were to go now, the apes wouldn’t dare follow him nor turn from Koba.  “I must do something to stop him.” Caesar said as he began to sit up.

“Uhh absolutely not! You can barely stand let alone walk Caesar. If you fight Koba now you will be killed. You need to rest and regain your strength.” I said urgently as both I and Blue Eyes gently set him back down on the couch.

“Father.” A voice soon spoke up.  Both Caesar and I turned to Blue Eyes.  His voice was hoarsed from lack of usage but there was no denying it, Blue Eyes was now speaking.  “Let….me…..Help. You.” And I’ll say seeing the proud look on Caesar’s face as he slowly sat up and cupped his son’s face gave me a warm feeling in my stomach.

[feymaid]

If any of you value your bisexuality you WILL go watch Blue Eye Samurai NOW.

[choccy-milky]

✨ pokémon AU! 🔴✨ clora is mainly fairy & psychic (bc shes sweet but also smart) whereas seb trends towards fire/dark (even tho i only ended up giving him 1 dark pokemon...shhh) i originally gave him a houndour, bc dark + guard dog was such a perfect combo for him, but arcanine ALSO suits him and is way cuter so i had to go with that 🥹 and i had to fit in a raven and a snake pokemon somewhere bc...cmon🥰 BAHAHA

TYSM to the anon who inspired this!! it was so much fun

[mdnightlvr]

people need to stop tagging their ‘x oc stories‘ as ‘x reader‘. it’s so ANNOYING bc I am searching for ‘x reader‘ and all I get is the „reader“ having a first name and blonde hair with blue eyes. like I don’t want to read that shit. just fucking tag your oc stories as ‘x oc‘.

and don’t get me startet on them just tagging random characters that aren’t even mentioned in the fanfic. When I search up fics for a specific character I do NOT want to find fics of a different character. just let me read that ‘character x reader‘ and leave me alone

LEARN TO USE TAGS CORRECTLY. IT’S NOT THAT FUCKING HARD

[pinksugarberry]

I love historical yuri

[sentientcave]

Retirement Party

Chapter 4 - Runaway

<<First Chapter - < Prev Chapter - Next Chapter >

Contains: No Y/N, Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Dubcon, Plus-sized reader, female reader, Poorly thought out action sequences, Guns, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real, More reader details given, but we're still pretty vague about it. Even though it is hard for me. No promises for future chapters though I might even tell y'all her name.

~3.8k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above

You wake in the morning with your nose buried in a thick patch of chest hair, and strong arms around you. Your legs are hooked around one of his thick thighs, and something hard digs into your stomach. You start to inch away, but his arms tighten, and his hips cant against you, a thick, sleepy groan rumbling in his chest. It would be a nice way to wake up, if not for the circumstances. It’s been ages since you slept beside another person, let alone someone that feels as comfortable as John does.

“John,” you say softly. You don’t want to fully wake him up, just get him to let you go. “John, please let me go.”

He hums, one hand sliding to your waist, and then down to your hip, pulling you closer, grinding you against his thigh. You squeak in protest, becoming aware that you’re already wet, like you’ve been unconsciously humping his leg in your sleep for some time. You push your slightly freer top half away a little, so you can look at him. He’s still sleeping, a little frown on his face as he’s pulled unwillingly toward consciousness. He really is handsome, especially like this, all his defences down, grumbling like a hibernating bear.

“Don’t wake up,” you tell him, as if it’ll make any difference. “I just have to pee.”

One of his blue eyes cracks open, a little unfocused. “You comin’ back?” His voice is rough from sleep, rasping like sandpaper.

“Sure,” you say, even though you have no intention of doing so. Your body seems as eager as his is for something you’re sure is dangerous. Maybe he smells good, like tobacco, warm, boozy spices and something undeniably male, and maybe he feels warm and solid against you, but you don’t want to encourage this. You just want to enough space to clear your head. His admissions last night still have you spooked, John’s words not tempered by a night of surprisingly good sleep. “I’ll just be a minute.”

He loosens his hold on you enough that you can wiggle free, his eyes opening a little more so he can watch you slip out of bed. He rolls over onto his back, and starts snoring gently before you’ve even made it to the bedroom door. You take the opportunity to snag one of the bags stacked in front of the closet and your purse off the dresser and bring both to the bathroom with you. You’re not sure what’s in the bag, but you know the larger suitcase has things from your closet in it, so you’re hoping this one has more from your dresser.

You get dressed, glad that most of your underthings and a comfortable pair of jeans and a thick sweater are inside and pack your toothbrush and makeup bag into the larger one, and creep downstairs carefully. One of them is snoring gently on the couch, but otherwise, the house is silent. You carefully fish a set of keys off the hooks by the door and sneak outside. You don’t know where any of your shoes are except the red heels, so you just leave in your sock feet, and pile your things into the pick-up truck. You’ll drive it into town and leave it there, buy a ticket on a train or a bus, and get the hell back home.

It sucks to have to leave everything you own, beyond the clothes in the one bag and the contents of your purse, but maybe you can call the cops— Well. Probably not. Better to just start over anywhere else. You have digital copies of a few pictures of your parents, and that’s better than nothing, even if their wedding album is sitting on a shelf in John’s living room, along with all the family photos that your parents took of you and them while you were growing up. Your mother’s sketchbooks too, and her camera, and your dad’s guitar.

You bite your lip, holding back tears, and start the truck.

No sense mourning things. The memories are in your head and your heart, not trapped in the pages of books or twisted into the strings of the guitar. You don’t need them.

You haven’t driven in a long time, and the truck, unfortunately, is a manual, which you haven’t driven in even longer, but you manage to pull away from the house without revving the engine too hard, and pick up speed once you get to the road, only just remembering to hit the clutch with your left foot before you change gears. You’d feel pretty pathetic if you only made it to the road before stalling out the pickup.

You’re not sure which way town is, but you figure the road has to lead somewhere no matter which way you choose, so you navigate blindly, turning onto a bigger road a little ways down the gravel one that leads to John’s house. Bigger road means more people, although the hour is still so early that there’s no one around yet. The sun is barely up, and it’s still shadowy in the woods on either side of the road. The woods give way to fields suddenly, the sun making a too-bright debut, shining right into your eyes. You flip down the visor and adjust the rear-view mirror, wincing when you see a blue car a ways behind you, approaching fast.

You didn’t notice the car when you were leaving— It must have been parked behind the bigger van that they’d used to move all your things— but it looks sporty and fast, and judging by the way it closes the gap, there’s no question that it’s them. You push the truck harder, squinting against the light, heart hammering. The car’s engine roars, loud enough that you can hear it over the blood rushing in your ears, and pulls into the lane beside you. Gaz motions for you to pull over from the passenger seat.

You slow up enough that they pull ahead a little, and you yank your steering wheel to the side and stomp down on the gas and the clutch, shifting into third gear and nailing the side of the car, shattering a tail light and making it spin, stopping just shy of the ditch.

For a moment, you’re still close enough to see the shock on their faces, but you’re moving fast and leave them in the dust, at least momentarily. It won’t take them long to recover and catch up again, and if they hit you with the same maneuver, there’s no way you’ll be able to get the truck under control. There’s not enough weight in the bed of the truck to compensate, and you’ll wind up in the ditch for certain.

Funny, how it comes back to you. Learning to drive along mountain roads way outside Aberdeen, either in your dad’s little car or your mom’s old truck (usually the car, which was the easier one to drive. Your dad was the safer driver too, the better parent to learn from), and you can almost imagine your mother in the passenger seat, laughing her head off at the insane circumstances, encouraging you to throw caution to the wind, to get a feel for the road under the wheels and the way the old truck handled. She always laughed when she was under stress, but it’s comforting to think of. Your mum would never let a couple of thick-headed military assholes get the better of her.

The car is catching up again, so you floor it and smash through a fence gate into a muddy field, where the car won’t handle as well, and speed your way across the stubbly remains of wheat, already harvested. The car follows, and, predictably, struggles, the low frame too close to the muck, bumping unhappily over the soft, uneven ground.

Laughter bubbles up in your chest, relieving some of the built-up anxiety. You smash through a segment of the fence on the other side and yank the truck back onto the road, giggling when the truck fishtails a bit, mud slicking the tires on the pavement. There’s so much adrenaline coursing through your system that you feel like you might be sick the moment you let any of this catch up with you. So you keep driving, and pray that it doesn’t.

The car gets close again when you reach another wooded section of road. Through the rearview mirror you can see Gaz pop out of the window, gun drawn, but you don’t hear the crack when it fires, you only feel the impact when the bullet strikes one of the rear tires. You shriek, slamming on the breaks as the truck spins out of your control and off the road, slamming into a tree head on.

The lurch forward as the airbags deploy, your body hitting them hard, knocking all the air out of your lungs as you’re slapped back into he seat. The seat belt bites into your shoulder painfully. You unbuckle yourself quickly, ears ringing too loudly for you to hear the screeching tires of the pursuit car. You fall to the ground when you try to get out, head spinning.

You stumble into the trees, still blinking away double vision. If you can find a good spot to hide— Maybe you can double back and take the car while they chase you blindly through the trees. You cast about, feeling every rapidly forming bruise, wishing desperately that you had shoes, and dive into the underbrush, scooting forward on your belly, brambles catching in your hair as you curl up, out of sight.

“Please come out, doll,” you hear Gaz call out, boots crunching through the woods, closer than you would like. “It’s okay, we’re not mad. Just come out and we’ll take you home, yeah?”

Johnny is yelling further off, his voice incomprehensible but sing-song, mocking. Gaz moves further into the woods. You wait until his voice grows a little more distant before you drag yourself back out, sweater streaked with mud, leaves in your hair, and quickly sneak back to the road. The car is still running, the driver door left open. You breathe a sigh of relief.

“There you are, bird.”

You scream. A gloved hand drops over your mouth, cutting off the sound, and an arm loops around your waist, picking you right up off your feet.

Fuck.

"Look what you did, bird. Wrecked up Price's truck. 'E's not goin' to be 'appy about that." He turns so you can see the slightly smoking truck, the front half of it crumpled beyond repair.

You shake your head until he pulls his hand away from your mouth. "Its not my fault I crashed. Gaz shot the tire out. I wasn't even going to steal it, just leave it in town once I'd gotten to a bus stop."

He hums. You hear the slight crackle of a radio. "Got 'er, lads. Come back to the car."

"Rog."

"Aye."

Ghost shoves you into the back seat. "Stay put," he says sternly. "You're already banged up, don't want to 'ave to tackle you."

You sigh, all the fight leaving you. You feel awful, bruised and shaken up and trembling, and you do nothing but watch as Ghost gathers your things from the truck and puts them in the boot of the car. You slump back in the seat, inspecting the scratches on your hands idly. Your head hurts, and your shoulder aches, and you feel a bit like you've been stepped on, but nothing feels broken, just bruised and tender. You got lucky.

Well, not lucky. There's very little about any of this that counts as luck. Especially considering the look on Johnny's face when he jogs out of the trees. At first he looks stormy, but he grins when he sees you and opens the back door to crawl onto the seat and on top of you.

"Steamin Jesus, where'd ye learn ta drive like tha'?" He asks. "Didnae ken ye were a racer."

"Outside Aberdeen," you reply. Your ribs hurt. Soap’s weight makes every little ache more acute.

"Price isn't gonna be happy about his truck," Gaz says, tossing himself into the driver's seat. "What were you thinking, doll? You could've been hurt."

"You didn't have to shoot the tire." You try to push Soap off, but he wraps himself around you, a bit tight, but bearably so. You’re trembling, and he’s trying to help, in a thoroughly unhelpful way. "I was just trying to get home."

"That's the wrong way. Your home's with Price now." Ghost gets into the other front seat, and Gaz reverses back out onto the road.

You sigh, leaning your head against the window, watching the countryside flash by. It takes an embarrassingly short time to get back to John's house. You didn't get as far as you would have liked, hardly got anywhere at all. Your eyes prickle with tears, but you don't want to cry in front of them. You want to go back to bed, maybe back in time to the morning. You would have been wiser just to curl up next to John again.

Soap drags you from the car, hands a bit rough on your bruises, and pulls you back to the house. John rushes out, worry creasing his face, blue eyes sweeping over you and turning furious. "What happened?" he barks, not at you, but at his men.

"Bird was makin' a run for it," Ghost says.

"Wrecked your truck," Gaz adds.

"That's not my fault!" you protest. "You shot at me!" You glare at him, frustrated tears overflowing down your cheeks. It’s like they have no idea what kind of stress they’ve put you through.

"Woah, woah, c'mere, doll." John pulls you against his chest, wrapping strong arms around you, stilling some of the tremble in your limbs. "You broken?"

You shake your head, leaning into him, gripping his t-shirt tightly. You breathe in raggedly, trying to steady yourself.

"Lads. Why did you shoot at her?"

"Trying to stop the truck."

"She's a civilian you muppets. I take it that the truck's in no shape to drive, or you would've brought it back. You could have killed her." He pets a hand over your head, plucking out a few leaves. "You should’ve let her go."

"She stole your truck!" Soap protests.

"So what? It's wrecked now anyway, innit?" The silence behind you speaks volumes. "Alright, doll, why don't you go get cleaned up? " he murmurs against the top of your head. "I need to talk to the lads, and what I have to say is not fit for a lady's ears."

He gently ushers you into the house and closes the door firmly behind you. You trudge upstairs, feeling utterly pathetic, and lock yourself into the bathroom. Still sniffling, you comb sticks and leaves out of your hair with your fingers and put yourself into a hot shower, where you give yourself the freedom to cry your eyes out, hoping that the sound of water drowns your stifled sobs.

The house is quiet when you shut off the shower and dry yourself off. You wrap the shirt you'd slept in around you and poke your head out into the hallway. John is right there, holding out a bundle of clothes. "Here, sweetheart," he says softly, like he's worried a sharp word will set you off again. He must have heard everything. "I sent the boys to deal with the truck and that tail light, so it's just us. Just come on downstairs when you're ready."

You open the door wide enough to accept the clothes, and he turns to leave again, content to leave anything else to be said when you make it downstairs.

He'd obviously taken his cue from what you'd been wearing already, because he gives you a sweater and jeans again, comfortable worn in things. You go downstairs carefully, every joint and muscle in your body aching, even after the shower.

"How do you take your coffee?" he asks. "Or do you prefer tea?"

"Coffee, please. I can make it. I'd feel better if I did, honestly." You skirt around him to the cupboard where you'd seen Gaz take mugs out, recognizing your own nestled among John's mismatched ones. You put milk and sugar in your favourite mug, and pour in coffee, stirring it throroughly. The clink of the spoon is loud, and so is the pan he sets on the stove top.

"Eggs and toast okay?" He asks.

"Um, yeah. That would be nice. Over easy?"

"Yes ma'am." He looks at you over his shoulder while butter melts in the pan, blue eyes all worry. "Did I say something to you last night? Maybe the sort of thing that made you feel like you needed to steal a truck and run as fast as you could away from here?"

"Um. Yes." You hold onto the mug with both hands. "Some stuff about wanting to start a family. With me."

His ears turn pink. "I see."

"I suppose this is where you tell me it was just the whiskey talking, right?" you ask hopefully. You like him, even if it’s ill-advised, maybe even dangerous to do so.

"Wish I could."

Your stomach twists. “Oh.”

John turns around fully, guilt and sadness written all over his handsome face. He steps closer and touches your arm gently. “I’m so sorry about what my boys have put you through, sweetheart. None of this has been right.” He sighs, brushing a few tendrils of still-wet hair away from your face, studying you, those intense blue eyes focused on you intently. “But there’s something special about you, doll. I really do want to keep you forever. Not if you’re scared, and not if you feel forced— It’s just, the thought of you leavin' and never wanting to speak to me again is— I don’t want that.”

You swallow nervously. “This is just really overwhelming.”

“I know. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have let this happen. Soap really could have just given you my number.” The smile he gives you is hopeful, and you can’t help but return it, just a little. “Now go sit down, doll. Let me take care of breakfast, hm?”

You nod and move to the table, sitting where you can watch him, and peek out the window too. The car is gone, but the van is still there for the moment, sitting idly to the side. You consider making another run for it, but your aching limbs protest even the thought. There’s not enough fight in you, and you’re not even sure you want to fight John, not the way you do the other three. His only crime has been wanting you to stay, and being a bit overzealous about it. You can’t be mad at him for that, can you? It isn’t really his fault.

Well, it might be his fault, in a roundabout way. He trained them, taught them how to ruthlessly pursue an objective. It’s just not his fault they can’t keep it from coming home with them. That’s a clear failure of whoever does their mental health assessments.

You sip your coffee and watch John crack eggs into a pan. He keeps glancing at you, and his smile flickers on a little longer each time that he catches you looking back, until he doesn’t stop smiling, and just looks happy, glad to have you there, even if you’re just keeping a silent vigil on the other side of the room.

It's not like you have anywhere to go. It'll take days at least to feel like you haven't just been in a car crash, and days more to locate everything to pack it back up. So long as you don't have to share a bed with John again, you think you could live with this, for at least a week. It can't be that terrible, so long as the others leave you alone. You rather hope they just leave. If you asked, would John send them away?

"John," you say as he sets a plate with buttered toast and a couple of eggs on it in front of you, and sets a couple tablets of paracetamol beside your plate. "If I stay… Will they be staying too?"

"I'm going to have them leave this afternoon. That alright with you? We can go for a walk to the neighbours while they pack up, if you're up for it. Maybe dr-- Well, not drive." He sets his own plate down and sits next to you, handing you a knife and a fork. “Have to get that sorted out. But the neighbours-- Rob and Melissa-- Their dog just had puppies a few weeks ago. Do you like dogs?”

You nod, breaking the yolks of one of the eggs with a corner of toast. "My parents had a dog when I was growing up. Some kind of German shepherd cross. Best boy. His name was Rob Roy, because he was a wee outlaw. Mam found him digging in the trash and--" you stop and give John a baleful look. "Sorry. That was more than you were asking."

"No, that's the most you've said at once this whole time. I'd listen to you talk all day, doll. Don't ever apologize."

"Sorry I-- Oh, shit, sorry--" you press your fingers to your mouth, cutting yourself off. "Force of habit."

"I'd like to see you lose that one. You have nothin' to apologize for. Not one damn thing, and especially not talking. I think you have the prettiest voice I've ever heard."

You roll your eyes, but you can't help smiling. "You're just saying that."

He touches your arm lightly. "You don't know me too well yet, doll, but I never just say anything."

Yet hangs in the air, heavy and deliberate. He wants you to know him, wants you to stay with him, wants you to like him. Even if it makes no sense, the offer is tempting. It's been a long time since you've let someone get close— You've had the occasional fling, and the odd reunion with an ex that you’d stayed friends with, but grief is like a canyon you can't bear to cross. What if you love someone and you lose them, the way you lost your parents? How could you live with that all over again?

Still, there's something that feels like warm sunlight in his smile, and you can't help but incline toward him, slowly but surely reaching for the light. No one can live in the shade forever. There’s no nobility in suffering.

So you let yourself talk, at least a little. And he listens, hanging on to your words like they're precious, gazing at you with something unfurling in his expression that you can't name. You're almost afraid to try.

Image Credits: Banner

Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune

[obsessive-evie]

you’re pretty is all

pairing: Kate Martin + fem!oc

word count: 3.2k

warnings: smut, explicit language

“I-, I can’t, please, I can’t, you can’t keep doing this to me,” Kate pants into my mouth, a blushing smile on her face, clearly embarrassed at the needy tone her own voice took on.

You see, we have recently discovered that Kate cannot handle praise. At. All.

It happened one day on accident, I was just going to one of her games like normal, a pretty rough game against South Carolina I must admit, but Iowa pulled through, Kate being the highest scorer instead of Caitlin for once. She had jogged over to where I was leaning against the walls of the stadium bleachers, a wide smile on her face the moment she noticed where I was. She had barely finished talking to the media, still dodging reporters with cameras on her way over to me.

I immediately wrapped my arms around her head of course, standing on my tiptoes to kiss the side of her head. Her head was buried in my neck, her heavy breathing and warm body pressed against my own. “You did so good baby, oh my god,” I said in her ear before pulling away, my hands still on her neck. Her face now held a different kind of look in her eye. What once was pink from the exertion of the game was now speckled darker with with red, her eyes holding a look of almost uncertainty in them. She opens her mouth like she’s going to speak, but nothing comes out.

She looks bashful, almost shocked, as she keeps trying to form words through her smile. A few laughs escape instead, so she breaks eye contact, and pulls me back into her arms, hiding her face in my neck.

I don’t bring it up until later, taking it as she was just overwhelmed in the post-win high.

But the more I thought about it, the more my brain needed to know why she looked so, flustered? Now I had had my theories about her liking praise, the few times I was more in control featuring a heavy adoration note, and less than a possessive or rough route, but I wanted to test my theory.

“I’m serious i’m so proud of you Kate, you played so well,” I say in the passenger seat of her car as she drives us back to her apartment, her hand in mine on the center console. We’re stopped at a long red, the large Iowa intersections taking far too long in any other circumstance, but i’m thankful for it now as I get to watch her head duck down in an attempt at hiding while a large smile plays on her face, one she’s clearly trying to hide. Her face flushes red again, and that’s when I knew I was on the right track.

Throughout the course of the next few days, I continued to shower my girlfriend with excess praise and compliments, relishing in every blush, smile, giggle, and hidden face. Everything from playing with her freshly washed hair while we talked about the game later that night, making her shift herself from laying on my chest to her kissing my neck to hide her red face when I started to delve into her high score. Not just that, but when she aced a math test a few days later, I went above and beyond in telling her how proud I was (she ended up telling me to shut up with a red face and half hidden smile, her large hand coming to cover half of her face).

The first time I called her pretty girl, I knew damn well what I was doing.

I was sitting on the bathroom counter as she curled her hair, just admiring her beauty and features. She was focused on not burning herself, but when she put the iron down and caught my eyes, she smiled, a puzzled look on her face. “What?” she asked while moving closer, her hands coming to my thighs, rubbing up and down my leggings as she laughed slightly. I shook my head, not wanting to admit anything yet, so naturally she moved closer, leaning into my personal space.

I shake my head while laughing, moving myself to kiss her lips with smiles on our faces. I break the gentle kiss to say, “My pretty girl.” Her reaction is immediate, her face flushes pink high on her cheekbones and ears, she tries to hold back an even larger smile which causes her nose to twitch slightly too. My hands cradle her jaw on each side before she plants her forehead on my chest, me sitting on the counter being one of the few positions she can do so.

I can feel her breathing slightly pick up, making me laugh again. She shakes her head in my chest with a small groan before picking it up, and moving back over to where she was standing, holding back a smile and a red face.

So it does work.

My plan was to see how long it would take for her to crack, or melt, either one worked for me. So when the day came where I was fed up with her being so stupidly strong willed, I decided to bombard her all day long.

I kissed every inch of her face when we woke up that morning, telling her how beautiful she is, even throwing in a my beautiful girl before getting out of bed to shower (she asked to join, but I don’t think I could handle seeing her naked and not get on my knees, which would ruin my whole plan).

I even hyped her up a little more the usual when we got ready to go out to dinner. When I would usually just call her my hot girlfriend and poke her biceps or abs, I made show of saying how good she looked, even throwing in a wolf whistle for good measure to get that pretty blush I adored. Now don’t get me wrong, she did look damn good, but it was a little exaggerated when she walked out in a gray tank and jeans, her hair up in a high ponytail with a dusting of makeup on her face highlighting her natural features.

I got the blush that I wanted, as well as an eye roll as she deflected by kissing me on the lips.

It was only after we had a few drinks at a nice italian restaurant that she even acknowledged my praises.

I had called her “so fuckin pretty” after taking some photos of her at our secluded table, to which she responded, “I can’t with you, you know that?” with an eye roll. “I just love my incredibly hot girlfriend, and I wanna tell her, what’s so wrong with that?” I replied. She just shook her head and said, “You’re so down bad for me.” Of course I nodded my head enthusiastically and took more photos.

By the time we were home on the couch, still in our going out clothes and makeup, I was determined to make her crack.

I was seated straddling her lap, her hands unbashfully on my ass and hips (a personal fav of hers as she put it), while mine were moving between her jaw and neck, not deciding which one I liked better. My tongue was in her mouth when my hand just barely squeezed her neck, not choking or anything, but enough for her to moan out in surprise. She pulled away for air, her face flushed and lips bitten a dark shade of pink. God she really was pretty.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I whispered before going back in for more kisses. Her hands now gripped my hips harder, pulling me down onto her thigh, causing pleasure to shoot up into me. She did it again at the same time she pushed her thigh up, the thought of the strong muscle beneath me only adding to my pleasure. This time i’m the one that pulls away to say, “God you’re so good to me, you’re so fucking pretty baby,” while smiling. Hopefully this is the fatal blow that will make her crack.

I’m right.

“I-, I can’t, please, I can’t, you can’t keep doing this to me,” Kate pants into my mouth, a blushing smile on her face, clearly embarrassed at the needy tone her own voice took on. Her bright blue-green eyes plead up at me, coercing my body and soul into her. I stay quiet, hoping to urge her to fill the silence. “I mean it, you have no idea what that does to me I-,” she pauses, taking a deep breath, breaking our eye contact, “I can’t, just-“ I cut her desperate words off with a kiss, needing to feel those pretty lips on mine again. She kisses me back with fervor, gripping my ass and hip impossibly tighter, her hands almost painfully doing so.

Our lips continue to move with a melting passion, each of us letting out occasional moans as we move closer and closer to the fires burning bright in our cores. I break the kiss and a string of warm spit still keeps us connected. I move to kiss her cheek gently, the restraint and stark contrast from the aggressive kissing almost making me shake. Kissing softly down her jawline, stopping just above her ear to whisper, “My pretty baby,” the hand that was resting on her neck squeezing slightly.

Now being possessive wasn’t particularly new for us, Kate liked to show me off and I the same, but we were never directly possessive. So i I guess it caught her off guard when I accentuated the my part.

“Oh my god,” she half says half whines as I smirk, continuing my pursuit of kisses down her neck and onto her exposed collarbones. I manage to get her tank top off, so of course she had to even the score and get me out of my shirt (it was bunched up around my bra anyways). Kissing down her chest, removing the clasp of her bra one handed, pulling her ripped jeans down, those were all easy. But resisting the urge to abandon my teasing and fuck her senseless once I got her in just her underwear was not easy. At all.

I too was stripped down to my shorts and lacy black bralette, my mouth still slowly trailing down her body, gently kissing and biting. My hands explored her hips and thighs the lower I got, the sucking on her chest and nipples making the strong muscles twitch slightly. Every time I pulled away from her warm body to breathe or look at her, I let out a string of praises or minor possessiveness.

The lower I got, the more she squirmed at my words. What would’ve probably only made her blush before this is now making her pant. For example, “God you’re so good baby,” made her let out a particularly desperate moan, her hand coming to the back of my head as I sucked on her nipple.

Something I did know about Kate however, is that she got particularly embarrassed when I went down on her. She had a habit of covering her face with her hands, a pillow, or biting her lips to hold back the moans that only urged me on. She also had a habit of closing her eyes or looking away, especially the more orgasms I gave her, because she had a tendency to cry.

The first time I made her cry in bed, I panicked, thinking something was wrong. It was after a particularly hard loss, a tiring and brutal game against LSU, and I decided she could use an orgasm or two after that. By the time I was getting her closer and closer to her third, I thought that I was crazy when I caught a glimpse of shiny eyes before she covered them with the crook of her elbow again. Amping her up for her fourth however, was when I was for sure that her moans were turning into almost sobs. My heart dropped, thinking I had taken it too far. Of course I immediately removed my head from her pussy and cradled her face with my hands, trying to remove her own from her face.

All I had received in return was a rushed out explanation, “No, no, please don’t stop I’m fine I swear just-“ she had said before I cut her off. “Baby you’re crying you’re clearly not fine what’s wrong was it too much? I’m sorry love I-“ this time it was my turn to be cut off.

“No, no this just happens ok I’m fine just I swear to god if you don’t make me cum these tears will be for real,” she choked out, the waterworks of frustration starting back up again. I had kissed her salty lips quickly before giving her a fourth orgasm, watching as the tears flowed freely once I had held her hand down on her hip. Back then I had watched in awe as her pretty face was streaked with tear tracks, trying to test my luck with a fifth orgasm right after her fourth. Unfortunately her sobs became mumbled words of, “No I can’t i c-can’t too much I can’t please I can’t,” while pushing my head away from her dripping cunt.

Now I’m determined to see those rare tears again.

Hopefully my teasing combined with her newfound appreciation for praise would be enough.

I stand corrected.

After sucking on her thighs for too long, Kate had relented and quietly asked me to touch her. I had removed her soaked panties slowly, kissing every inch of her legs they went down. This is when she would typically look away or look for a pillow to hide in, but thanks to our position on our barren couch, she had no choice but to look at me as I made contact with her wet pussy.

I started out slow by circling her clit and pushing a single finger into her, crooking it slightly. “Keep your eyes on me pretty girl,” I said, making her move her hand from shaking by her thigh to holding the back of my head, keeping my tongue on her as she whines.

Throwing out other praises and you’re so pretty darling, or, you look so fucking good like this, so wet baby made Kate only moan and whine louder, her hand coming to cover her mouth. I get minutes into pumping two fingers into her before I notice she’s gone muffled, so I take her hand away from her mouth by her wrist, and hold it onto the couch with my thumb on her pulse point gently.

“C’mon baby let me hear you, I know you can do it,” I say, watching as she tries to keep quiet by biting her lip, tears beginning to form in her eyes. I decide to push her further.

At the same time I curl my fingers up into her g spot, I suck on her clit hard, all while simultaneously pushing on her lower stomach. This makes her let out a loud and whiny moan, stirring things inside me when she tightens her hold on my hair. The tears begin to flow now, almost making me let up on my assault. Almost.

I keep alternating between sucking on her clit and pushing on her stomach, my fingers keeping pace inside her. “Oh my god,” she panted out, the telltale signs of my girlfriend’s incoming orgasm starting as her breathing picks up. I keep going, never relenting, even when her strong hips try to lift up off the couch, forcing me to wrap my arms around her hips and thighs, pinning her in place.

I take a small breather to say, “you’re close baby, I know it, why don’t you cum for me yeah? god you’re doing so well love.” She throws her head back and whines, a high and needy thing that makes me speed up my hand, even though my wrist is starting to cramp.

Her breathing deepens, sobs worsen, thick hot tears rolling down her cheeks as her strong thighs clamp around my head. Pushing on her lower stomach always seems to do the trick, something about external g spot stimulation? Either way, she’s coming on my tongue with my name in her mouth, combined with many other things I can’t hear because of her thighs over my ears.

Her whole body shakes and twitches, her hips lifting in an arch, her hand holds my hair almost painfully tight to her cunt, not like I was leaving anyways. Her heavy breathing doesn’t slow as I push through what I think is the longest orgasm I’ve ever given her. And trust me, giving head was considered one of my special skills. Wonder if I could put THAT on a job resume?

I slow my fingers inside of her, as well as the lapping of my tongue when I think i’ve stretched that out as long as I could. Her eyes are closed now, breathing slowing, her thighs loosened around my head, allowing me to pull away for air. I slowly remove my fingers from her cunt, causing her hips to twitch again, making me laugh. I suck her excess slick off my fingers, relishing in the way she tastes. Maybe I’m smug, but the fucked out look on my girlfriend’s face as she opens her eyes is totally deserving of a mini victory lap.

I stand up from my position on the floor, my knees cracking on the way up from the way I was kneeling. I kiss my way up her hips and stomach gently, small pecks up her warm body, making my way to her face. The tear stained face I kiss every inch of, something I had started after the first time she cried, a mix of guilt and tenderness I felt for her compelling me to do so. When I finally reach her lips, I swipe my thumb under her eyes, cleaning off any more salty tears or cum. Unfortunately for Kate, going from eating pussy to kissing cheeks means mixing of bodily fluids.

A self confident smile on my face, I kiss my girl on the lips finally, her once limp mouth curving up into a small smile. I pull away, taking in her disbelieving expression. “Where the hell did that come from?” she asks, shaking her head slightly against my lips. “You’re pretty,” is all I say in response.

[zestys-stuff]

A little pov of Ralak checking you out from across the bonfire 🔥

Unholy… unholy thoughts behind those eyes

[miaurri]

Recent things I’ve made

[annboch]

Some random sketches

El pintor es un poco mas pequeño al lado de su amante pero eso no le molesta en absoluto. ^^

[nerujikam]

small sketch of Coincidence?

might’ve made my baby a lil too small but blame mizu for them big ass stompers

[blondehya]

GIRL I NEED MIZU BEING A BULLY IN COLLEGE (she actually isn't, it's just rumors because of her aura, people are kinda scared of her) she's like tall, arm with tattoos, rides a motorcycle, sunglasses, leather jacket, WHO WOULDN’T BE SCARED????

So she has a secret crush on reader (who is also a little bit afraid of her based on the rumors) who is the complete opposite of her. So Mizu tries to be kind (even though it's hard and she's a nervous mess)

⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹ 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mizu x fem!reader

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: OMG BEST REQUEST I’VE EVER RECEIVED I LOVE YOU SO MUCH 😭

you were at that school long enough to know the single most important thing: stay away from mizu, always, that girl means problem.

many people believe that she is respected a lot, but she is just feared. being a tall girl, tattooed arms, and driving a motorcycle is enough to make people’s head going down while she passes. who wouldn't be afraid?

“hi, excuse me. i’m here to bring my absence certificate from friday.”

“hello sweetie! give me a minute.”

you wait patiently for the inspector to sort things out, and before leaving he calls you.

“wait, your geography teacher had to leave, so you should go to the history class right now. hush, it already started.”

you thank him and run in a clumsy way to the history classroom, and calmly open the door.

“please, come in. you can sit with mizu right there.”

everything seemed to go in slow motion. the slightly laugh of some students, and the pitying faces of others. of course, the chair with her had to be the only one free! you approach and sit down, apprehensive.

the thought of looking at her flashes through.

come on, say hi or make a sign so you don't get into trouble with her later!

you move your head towards her, smile and nods trying to say hello. she just looks at you and returns her attention to the teacher seconds later. what if she didn’t liked you?!

oh, for sure i am in trouble… what if that sign means something rude in her country?!

the teacher starts to speak again.

“since this material is over, let's ask some review questions to see if everyone understood.” she pauses for a second. “you know what? i will pick according to the numbers on the attendance list.”

several students sigh in sadness. you feel relieved in fact, you studied a good part of the content. you quickly look at mizu, she looks like a statue... wow!

“who is number… eighteen?”

“me, miss.”

the boy stands up in his chair and waits for the questions. he responds clearly and satisfies the teacher.

“number seven?”

being taken out of my thoughts, i stand up confident and i look at the teacher smiling.

“paleolithic japanese incorporates the oldest known polished stone tools in the world. this technology is associated with the beginning of the neolithic, which takes place in what time?”

fuck you, fuck me, fuck everyone! what kinda of quest is that?!

“ah… it’s b.c right?” her expression changes. several students start whispering and laughing at you.

my heart starts racing and i feel like i'm going to fall ov—

huh?

did mizu just pushed her leg against mine?

she wants me to get distracted and fail at everything! i’m just gonna ignore it.

but why is she placing both hands clearly open on her thighs…

it couldn’t be…

“ten thousand before christ…?”

“yes! correctly lady!”

you sit in the chair again but in disbelief, happy with the teacher’s smile. your gratitude hides all the thoughts that previously hovered in your mind, so you get close to mizu and whispers:

“thank you so much, i owe you one for saving me.”

for the first time she looks at you and... and smiles... mizu can actually smile, and what a beautiful vision you think.

“it’s nothing. no need to thank me.”

her voice is actually so pretty… it has nothing scary. why would people call her scary?

you think to yourself.

the class continues without worries and finally comes to an end.

“bye, mizu!” you say in a joyful tone. you were proud to know now that she wasn’t that scary bully monster everyone calls her.

“ah, wait a minute, please. you were the only person who talked with me in ages. so… you don’t find me weird or anything…?”

“i was a fool influenced by rumors. you are a good person, mizu. i am sorry for everything.”

ah…

why is she BLUSHING?!

“haha… good to know...” she scratches her head nervously. “so, do you want my number? like, so we can talk more, not that i want to ask you out. in fact, i want to! but not now.”

you look at her surprised, she is a real mess.

“i’m so sorry… you were the only one who talked to me without that strange scared face. i thought we could at least extend it more.”

“of course we can!” you smile brightly to her.

you two exchange numbers and start to get close, very close to a level where she picks you up and drops you off at home every single day.

“hello dove, it’s cold today. hold on tight.”

you do as she says. mizu’s body is bigger and of course more warm, it’s like your own big plushie to squeeze and hug. also… it’s no longer a secret anymore! everyone at school knows you two are inseparable forever.

“taigen asked me if we are dating…” you declare this, lying on her chest on the lawn.

“how could he?” she puts her leg over yours.

[mengyueart]

More Aizu content because I can

1 - wedding

2 - "Even 300 years after"

[lilakennedy]

So....Picked up Palia last year. Can you guess who I am romancing? ♥

It's okay if you can't, it's pretty subtle -

[pinksugarberry]

Mizu warm ups, yuri warm ups 😔🙏 I love drawing London Mizu sm

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Harmony

Mizu x Y/N - drabble - 886 WC

Masterlist

Warnings: blood, injury, mention of breasts but not in a sexual sense, healer reader, kissing, he and she used for Mizu, pretty fluffy tbh

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“Lovely aren’t they?” you said to the mysterious man next to you in the secluded forest by your cottage. He nodded slightly, not responding verbally. You picked a smaller branch off the tree, a few soft pink cherry blossoms were scattered on it. You lifted the branch to your nose, breathing in the sweet smell of the flowers. You walked over to the man, placing the branch between the fold of his haori. You heard him suck in a sharp breath. You finally saw his face as he looked up to meet your gaze. He was strikingly beautiful. Sharp cheekbones, full lips, a button nose pink from the snow chill. But above all, his eyes. Your eyes widened slightly, never having seen such a shade in person. “Like the sea after a storm.” you whispered, not even realizing your hand had gone to gently hold his cheek. You felt him lean into your touch, sighing with content. He hadn’t been held in a while. The man started to slump against you, you heard him groan, his hand going to hold his side. You saw blood seeping through the blue cloth. You gasped, putting his arm around your shoulder and pulling him towards your house. Just as you crossed the threshold, he fell to his knees before falling unconscious. You pulled him towards the warm fire pit before pulling his glasses off and his haori open. You saw bandages wrapped around his chest, the gash led under the bandages so you quickly unwrapped them. Your eyes widened as you saw the samurai with two breasts. You shook your head, grabbing your stitching kit from your healers cabinet. You stitched her but didn’t rewrap her before pulling a blanket over her. You pulled her katana and glasses off so she could rest comfortably, setting it next to her so she wouldn’t panic when she woke. 

You sat nearby, making tea and soba before stitching her haori up where something had slashed through it. You looked over to the samurai every once and a while, admiring them while also checking to see if they were comfortable. You sat and drank tea next to them when the stitching was done. A small huff left the samurai, causing you to look at them. Their face shifted slightly, a look of pain or fear scrunching their brows. Their body twitched randomly. She was running or fighting something in her dream. You put your tea down moving to sit next to her face; you smoothed your thumb over her cheekbones, hoping to calm her. You hummed a calming tune as your repeated this over and over. Her hand moved up to hold yours against her cheek yet she remained asleep. 

“The most beautiful samurai…” you whispered. You stayed with her, holding her hand.

When the samurai woke, it was the dead of night. She shot up but instantly laid back down as the gash across her chest screamed at her for the sudden movement. You quickly made your way to her side. She instinctively scooted away from you. You held your hands up, showing you meant no harm. You passed her a loose shall to cover up with and not disturb her stitches. She pulled it on quickly. 

“You can tell no one you have seen me. Is that understood?” she said in a gruff voice. 

“Of course.” you said bowing your head, “Eat, drink, sleep. Regain some strength before you leave.” You got up and set down the tea and soba next to her before getting your own and eating across from her. “Eat. It’ll help you heal and keep the chill at bay.” 

Mizu ate quickly, observing you the whole time. The faintest tattoo on your wrist caught her eye. It looked like a mirror.

“An old legend. Your face is that of the one you loved most in your past life.” you said, “The mirror reminds me to love myself, for I loved this face once… more than anything.”  you said with a soft smile.

Mizu looked down, who could have possibly loved her face? Nobody. Perhaps she was a mere demon. She felt a gentle hand caress her cheek, tilting her chin up.

“I can see why one would love your face so much. Fire and water live within you. Such harmony is rare.” you smiled. 

Mizu didn’t know why but she kissed the back of your hand. You had been nothing but kind, she didn’t know how to return it but this felt right. You blushed deeply, lifting her hand closer to your face and kissing the inside of her palm.

“It doesn’t bother you?” she asked softly.

“What?” you asked, rubbing your thumb over the inside of her hand in soothing patterns. “That you’re a woman? The heart cares not for such fickle things, only that it is loved.” you replied, smiling in a way that brought a warmth to Mizu that she hadn’t felt in years. 

She sat up as best she could, pulling you to her so she could kiss you gingerly. Almost questioning her own actions. You kissed her back gently, soothing a thumb over her cheek bone to reassure her. She grew more confident, kissing you over and over again, chasing the warmth she felt when with you despite you being a stranger.

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Naboo's Note:

Hello! Three fics in one day?! Who is this Naboo? Lol had this one sitting for a while and decided why not finish it. I hope ya'll enjoy and would love some recs for her character. Thank you, talk soon! XOXOXOXOXOXO