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death---dealer · 7 months ago

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Courting Imagines. ( Caesar x Reader, POTA. )

I'm a romantic at heart leave me alone. How did this end up being 6K+ words? Idk, but enjoy Next on this list for this series ( Courting ): Noa and Blue Eyes ( Potentially open to other characters, if you guys wanted! )

Does not know he’s actually courting you until it is brought to his attention by Maurice one slow afternoon. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

The two of them sitting and biding time, there’s not much to get done fortunately and Caesar is allowed a solemn downtime to rest and recoup after the chaos that had been happening recently as far as the influx of Humans stumbling upon the Colony and threatening them. As great as he was to lead his people, he wanted moments like this on occasion where he wasn’t being torn in thirteen different directions. Koba, Blue Eyes, Rocket, Ash, all having thoughts, all encompassing to Caesar who listened so intently to each of their concerns, and even the concerns of those outside of his council.

His gaze? Subsequently right on you as you were helping Lake rally in the young Apes into a circle. You had been blessed with time to spend with them for reading and learning, sharing the opportunity with Maurice when the attention was made that you were able to communicate to them to the point of understanding. Caesar paused when you lifted up a small Chimpanzee baby, giving himself a small huff as they climbed along your shoulder blades and began digging into your hair as you were talking. What about? Caesar could not hear but was more than entranced at watching your mouth form words.

Quietly, he drifted his eyes back forward to stare at the bonfire pensively. There was always a sense of pride that rocketed through his entire being at the notion that his people were free and prospering, but this time, he felt a bit more of an aggressive edge to the thought when you were added to the equation. It wasn’t an unsavory feeling, in fact, it was quite the opposite and Caesar preemptively accepted the lingerance, able to see your face when he closed his eyes.

You’d begun spending much more time together, almost all his days when he wasn’t thrusted into situations that beckoned his full attention were spent with you. Listening to you talk about Humanity, always a great perspective to Caesar who wrote off his eager curiosities about you as being the same as his curiosities for humanity as a whole. You’d gone fishing together, hunting on one occasion which he was partial to because you ultimately rode on the back of his horse and your entire body pressed against his own, you spent later evenings sitting by the fire in either silence or playful banter, sometimes even managing to get him to crack a smile or release a memory about his childhood with Humans.

He took silent pleasures when you would grasp his arm in laughter as you threw your head back in a laugh, green eyes lingering just a second too long on your exposed jugular, or when you would grasp at his hands when talking. All so Human, all so familiar to him but he wanted more deep down. Caesar especially liked it when you and he would spend time together and he was consciously aware that the rest of his Colony could smell his scent radiating from your body from the mere proximity you had to him. There was an animalistic prickle on his ears if he rested on that thought too long.

Maurice, attentive and intuitive to Caesar’s body language and thoughts, chittered silently to himself and that captivated the Ape King to break his glance on the fire. He had been in a deeply meditative state about you, somewhat grateful to the Orangutan otherwise Caesar was going to waste the entire afternoon recollecting the moments he had with you out of obsession to pick apart at the smaller details of them.

A great pass time for a King who loved strategy.

“Good,” Caesar spoke first and nodded his head in the direction of Lake, primarily you but he covered his tracks with the Ape his son had an acutely oblivious connection to, “She can take part of your duty.”

Maurice followed Caesar’s gaze and nodded in agreement, knowing fully well what he was alluding to without any more context, ‘She is smart.’ He signed, ‘Compassionate, would make for a great mate.’

Caesar scoffed at that, picking up a rock and throwing it mindlessly into the fire in front of him, his eyes sliding to you every few seconds. He’d linger only as long as he felt necessary, as long as no one else took notice. The thrown rock, a deflection of sorts, he shuffled back and looked at his wise friend, green eyes focused and determined. His gaze asked ‘what do you mean?’, almost grateful in a way that he didn't need to verbalize for Maurice for him to understand the expressive nature of Caesar’s brow ridge arched in questioning.

The large ape continued and chided Caesar, ‘You have considered that as a possibility, have you not?’

“Human as mate?” Caesar felt like his breath got caught in his chest as his voice came tumbling out in a deep baritone. Enriching, he would imagine, if he brought his face to the shell of your ear and whispered against it. ‘Distraction,’ Caesar signed to Maurice, ‘She….’ He hesitated his hands before choosing words, finding them a bit easier now to express instead of putting more effort into sign language. “Helps me forget what happened before.”

Maurice understood that. Cornelia, always such a sore point to bring up, especially when it was around both Caesar or Blue Eyes. She had passed away from complications after Blue Eyes was born and Caesar vowed to himself to never gravitate towards another, but in a bid to be less lonely in the scape of his longer life, he found himself drawn to you despite his best efforts.

‘Cornelia would understand,” Maurice was gentle with his actioned words, rumbling deep in his chest to Caesar who only nodded in minor agreement. ‘She would want your happiness. I can see it already, the way you look at her.’ Maurice turned his small green eyes in the direction of you and Caesar was prone to follow. He was captivated at you, how you were expressing with your arms now, two Chimpanzee babies cradling themselves along your shoulders now instead of the one he had seen climbing before.

Caesar broke away from that quickly and turned to look off in the opposite direction, ‘Just a distraction.’ He signed fervently.

Maurice, letting out a small sigh let his eyes rest on you for a few moments longer, knowing fully well that Caesar, as subtle as he tried to move and angle himself, was looking at you again, though this time the emotions of his eyes altered. They were almost softened, but the ridge of his brow stayed hard. Maurice knew better - Maurice could see the shifts in Caesar. It was only a matter of time until the Ape King came to the same realization.

Being brought to have a meal with him for the first time. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

Being escorted up the trail that landed where the Royal Ape family sat was not on your bingo-card for the timid Summer evening you found yourself swimming through. There were two Apes with you - Luca, who had to have been the definition of gentle giant and became a quick friend to you during your time at the Colony and Rocket, Caesar’s right hand man who had to be tied for that position with Maurice. You smiled graciously as they dropped you off at the perched ledge, your feet finding it difficult to move forward when you finally rested your gaze on the King himself. The pure intensity of his green gaze always left you feeling melted and soldered to the very ground you were standing on.

He wasn’t alone and you were quick to break your gawk to flicker your eyes to Blue Eyes, who in his reserved demeanor, only looked at you curiously and popped a berry into his mouth rather reluctantly. The smile you gave him was gentle, understanding. You’d be hesitant of a species you had never met just like he was. He had every right and it was never taken as an offense.

“I-I was told you wanted to see me.” You laughed, trying to cover up the nerves but you knew that Caesar was more than well aware of them based on the sweat radiating off your palms and forehead.

Silence, he just looked at you and captivated your gaze in a dance. It was hard not to look at him, his entire self, the way his shoulders carried his weight, the way his brow sat so sternly against the rest of his features, a permanent scowl always encasing the wrinkled lines along his cheeks, especially under his eyes. Caesar was an experience himself, in every sense of the word and you flexed your hand wanting nothing more than to know what his fur felt like.

He was sitting next to his son, picking up a fresh bowl of what looked like the Elk that had been caught in the hunt earlier in the day and a handful of select berries with a splash of roasted seeds. Your stomach churned at the sight, mouth suddenly dripping as it dawned upon you just how hungry you were.

The bowl slid your way along the slick rock and rattled right at your feet. You looked at it, and then at Caesar and then back at the food. You were about to open your mouth in protest, but Caesar spoke first, that delicious tone he used more than enough to stave off your hunger for days.

“Join.”

Stumbling forward, you were quicker than you wanted to be to grasp the bowl, feeling a bit dizzy when you stood with it in your hand, “Y-- You want me to join you up here? I don’t know, Caesar. Koba’s gonna---”

“Will take care of Koba, join.” Caesar assured you and tentatively put some seeds into his mouth. The crunching of his teeth against them enlightened your senses to how powerful of a jaw he really had and the floating notion that he could rip your limbs off one by one with them was alluring to dive into. Morbidly, you just wanted to know what it felt like. Instead, you felt encased in synthetic movement as you drifted towards him, like he was the source of all gravity, and sat cautiously down.

Cross legged, you placed your own bowl in your lap and set your eyes on the large Ape next to you, then to Blue Eyes who seemed equally curious at his Fathers choice of dinner guest, and then back to Caesar again. Swallowing softly, he did not meet your glance. Instead, silence fell over the two of you as he continued to eat, prompting Blue Eyes to do the same. It looked good, no doubt.

You felt hungry, but all of a sudden, all your eyes wanted to feast on was Caesar. The rise and fall of his shoulders as he moved through his own food, obviously picking out what he liked best from the assortment and bringing them to his lips. You paused there, watching as he placed a berry against them as if in contemplation, the juicy nature speaking wonders as a drip fell onto his chin as he turned towards you slowly. Swallowing, you looked down at your bowl in a bid that maybe he hadn’t seen you staring at him and pretended to be rather interested in the seeds you played around with with your pointer finger.

“Not… hungry?” He finally broke the silence that was radiating through the air like a daft bullet, looking at you from his periphery. The shaking of your hand was more than indicative, the flushed appearance of your cheeks made Caesar want to pick you up right then and trail to the nest. But, reservation was preserved, as it so often did.

“Starving.” You finally admitted with a bashful smile and licked your lips. “Don’t know where to start.”

“Berries are good.” Caesar commented hap-hazardly, delving a bit into the small talk that he knew Humans enjoyed, knew you enjoyed because it drew on your most basic instinct of belonging. He wanted that - for you to feel like you belonged, in fact, that was the entire basis of getting you to come join him for a meal. Just one, and if he felt it went well, there would be another, and then another.

You nodded at that. Berries are good. So, that’s where you started as you picked between them and placed a blueberry in your mouth, Caesar watching with great interest from between the focus on his own food and the floating eyes from his son as you placed it on the tip of your tongue first before bringing it into your mouth with a delectable chew.

Caesar giving you gifts/tokens. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

It had been an incredibly long day - and it was one of those days where when one thing went wrong, the dominos began to fall and everything was coated in sour feelings. You had bumped your forehead rolling out of your hut this morning, forgetting that the doorway was smaller than your height, understandably so. Apes often walked on all fours, why would they need a doorway that gave enough clearance for an upright human?

The only place with that here was Caesar’s nest, perched high above the rest. It gave a sense of coziness, until you rammed your head against it. Every feeling in your body from that moment onwards just told you to stay home, that you’d be less of a detriment there than out with the hunt party that was departing at dawn. There was no sustenance to eat- you ended up at the Colony bonfire for breakfast too late. Only a few lingering berries remained, maybe an apple that had a bite taken out of it. Your horse refused to comply with your commands, almost biting your fingers off when you brushed your fingers a bit too close to their muzzle and looking at that now in self-reflection, she probably hated that you were in such a downward mood and sensed to play off of it and lastly, you had stepped in a puddle and the worn nature of your boots caused water to seep and linger on the wool socks you had on.

Grunting quietly to yourself as you trailed back towards your small home after arriving back from the hunt was more egregious; you just felt incredibly sore from sitting on your horse for most of the day, watching as the Apes embarked on a hunt. The grace of which you had never seen. They took to the skies from the trees, getting the advantage of pure silence as they were able to sign amongst each other when prey was spotted. They took to the ground, either on foot or on horseback, all encased in the vivid whitescape of their paint, some adornments of blue and red splashed against the most prestigious.

Caesar’s was red, the detailing on his face and down the center of his chest caught your attention right away but you tried not to linger too adamantly on that and figured you’d have time to obsess alone. And alone you were for most of the day. It was slow on your part- you found no human remnants to scour goods from, another thing to go wrong on a day that you didn't even want to be out of bed for.

Bringing a hand up, you lightly rested it against your shoulder and sighed to yourself, tendering the skin at the base of your neck with the pads of your fingers. Your horse had been given to Luca to place in the paddock, he must have sensed the sort of day it was from the way you dismounted the animal and grumpily handed him the reins. He did not say anything to you, but the kindness of his eyes spoke wonders as you had given him a slight smile before trailing off on your way. You just wanted to sleep and nothing more and your hut was only a few more paces away. The sweet victory of the idyllic nature of your nest was taunting you with its call. The warm animal pelts you had taken in, the knitted tight branches that were surprisingly buoyant when you shifted in your sleep. All things you wanted, all things you needed.

Your feet came to a slow stop against the slick rock underfoot as you rounded the corner towards your own hut, happily situated on the ground rather than floating up-above, as was the preference with Apes. Eyes widening in surprise at the basket in front of the entryway, you narrowed your gaze on it as you got closer, a bit afraid that perhaps Koba was playing a practical ( or cruel ) joke on you.

Upon further inspection with your eyes as you bent down to look at the contents, you deemed it safe and drove your fingers down to see what was in it. It was a simple wicker basket, but it wasn’t made by an Ape - you could tell from the fabrication and the glue that was holding some pieces together. Very obviously human, the Apes made better items than this. You imagined that, the idea of things like this being so mass-produced only ten years ago before the Flu took that away.

Lips parted as your fingers scaled the items in the basket and you were able to properly see what was inside, you felt a rather uncomfortable sensation lifting against your spine, upwards towards the base of your neck and then back downwards. There were… Human things in the basket. All human things. All things you enjoyed, a few bars of soap that were actually encased in original packaging, rare in this society. You looked at them, feeling tears hit the back of your eyes. Shampoo, conditioner. All things Apes wouldn’t understand, the vain essence of humanity holding and rearing its ugly head right against your chest at the fact that you had sorely missed these luxuries and you were going to savor them as long as you could. The last item - incredibly personal in nature.

Tampons.

You picked them up with vicious intent and peeled the box open. It was nearly full and you tilted your head back in pure relief, knowing that you could alternate between them and the cloths you had to be forced to use and re-wash when that time of the month came. There was only one Ape who had a vivid understanding of what it was used for which gave away the suspense of figuring out who had set the items out for you. These were given to you from the King himself; Caesar.

Jaw clenching tightly, you placed all the items back into the basket and lifted yourself up with the basket in tow as a few tears slid down from your eyes, across the barren nature of your cold cheeks and off the drop of your chin. You had no idea where he got ahold of these items, when he had split away from the pack he so often found himself surrounded by to go searching, but you were so incredibly grateful for them, the knowledge that you were able to hold onto a bit of yourself from before the Flu more evident now than ever.

Caesar paced himself on all fours, two or three meters away from you between the trees to make sure you got the items. There was no way for you to not deduce he was the one, there was just the added touch of assurance that you got the items that he was worried more about. He did see you look out, and for a split second, he thought his cover had been blown as you appeared to look right at him, but the nature of his fur catapulted him into a more camouflaged nature and he watched contently as you drifted into the hut you had made your home, arms full of the goods he was able to supply.

Caesar felt obscenely proud and selfishly so at the idea that these things would rocket him on your potential list of suitors. If you had one. If he oh so happened to even be included.

Caesar finally admitting to you his intentions / Forehead Touching for the first time. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

It was a remarkably clear day, the thought was only spurred by the sun that drifted downwards and captivated against the skin of your shoulders deliciously. Geographically, you were burdened with many foggy days, many days where the sun could not peek its head out from behind the clouds. But today? Not a problem as you tilted your head back and drew a deep breath in with shut eyes. The way your body moved, the rounded entrancement of your chest, exposed as you were only wearing a light t-shirt, caught the attention of Caesar right away.

He had been so used to the fall and winter months where you were layered beyond belief - an undershirt, over shirt, long sleeve shirt, sweater and jacket. So many layers for him to dismantle when he was left to his own devices in a certain mood. Seeing you like this, the caress of your body against the thin-fabric of the worn out shirt was more than a sight to behold for the Ape next to you. There was a symbol faded against the fabric, lost to time Caesar figured.

The meadow you had so graciously decided to stop and have lunch at on your way back to the Colony from a day spent scouring some human desolations was open for what seemed like miles on all sides. It was happily flushed with lush green grass, dandelions that were just now beginning their transformations from yellow to a pillowing white, wild flowers sprung in patches against your forearms as you rested back against them in a bid to get more sun to soak into your pores. Caesar, as diligent as ever, looked down at you with eyes that could rival the shrubbery in color and elegance.

You smiled at him briefly, bringing a hand up to shield your eyes, your arm grazed along his as you put yourself into position to look up at him without blinding, the rest of your weight fell onto your one supporting forearm. “Seems like so long ago,” That was softly said, as soft as the breeze that touched the most delicate flowers and rattled their petals.

Caesar couldn’t look away from you, could not focus on anything but the way you were speaking to him, your eyes unable to be detected from behind the shielded nature of your outstretched arm and he was left with the delectation of your lower face, your jaw which he wanted nothing more than to bite along, your mouth which he wanted nothing more than to urge and please in a bid for you to say his name. “The days when the sun didn't stop.”

He knew what you were alluding to. The Rise itself and the infraction that humans had to associate that with the ever encompassing wilderness that took its hollow place. There was no argument to be made from Caesar though, the sun did seem to shine so endlessly in the memories he had of his human life.

“Do you… think about them often?”

Your eyes shut and you rested your head back onto the ground in contemplation. It was always a loaded question from Caesar. He asked you when he felt you were being reminded of that time and the answer always depended on how you felt in those moments. Sometimes it was a very flat and honest ‘yes’, sometimes it was a more forlorn and yearned ‘no’, and sometimes? There wasn’t any verbal answer and you just hummed a response, not wanting to answer because there was nothing to truly answer.

You would always think about them, sure, but that did not mean you missed the all encompassing position it was to be a human. The cruelty far outreached the good in most cases and it left an incredibly guilt-ridden emotion to linger along the base of your neck, like a pulled muscle you couldn’t tenderize back into compliance.

“Don’t you?” You finally retorted, Caesar drawn back at the action in your voice. You hadn’t ever answered his posed question like that before.

“Used to a lot,” He admitted without hesitance, “Soon after finding the Woods, establishing,” Caesar gestured broadly. He was talking about the Colony itself. “Thought of them a lot.”

You drew into his words with such passion, reaching for anything he was willing to tell you about that time in his life and how it led him to this moment. Taking a deep breath into your lungs, you savored the smell of honeysuckle mixing with Caesar’s waft, so crisp like the river water but musky like the ground of the woods after a clear rain. Consequentially, when you finally looked up at him and caught eyes, yours were widely dilated from the pure draw of his essence. “Did it hurt to leave them?”

Caesar seemed to contemplate that for more than a moment, his head tilting to the side and brows relaxing with the thoughts running through his strategic mind. How you wanted to bury yourself into his brain just to capture a glimpse of his outrageously confident and skilled thought-process. It still rattled you to your core this day when you thought about it for too long.

“Yes.”

A strict admittance, but you expected nothing less from him. “I thought… it would kill me.” Pushing yourself into a seated position instead of resting on your back, your gaze fell on the King and you found yourself tracing the smoothened lines under his eyes and how they always appeared to make his expression sad and tired. Maybe he was, you had no way to know unless he explicitly told you how he was feeling. Rare in and of itself.

“But, then… Cornelia… My… Son…” He nodded to himself and shut his green eyes in a contemplative melancholy, almost hypnotic state like the memories he was remembering where pulling his entire soul back to the moments they happened. “I would not be here had… had I not left… them behind. We… Ape...” There was a sudden flicker of heat in his gaze when he opened his eyelids and looked towards you, captivating your view with pure and undiluted strength and confidence in his answers.

“Would not be here. All… I have ever wanted,” He was marked with emboldened taste as he raised a hand to place it against your cheek. Not the first time you had him touch you, though certainly it was the first time he put intentional thought and provocation behind it. “Here. Now.”

His fingers were incredibly thick, one of them in diameter equaled two of your own. The strength at which he held the side of your face, your head tilting towards the warmth of his open palm as your eyelids drooped to a slow shut, told you wonders of what lay underneath. Caesar was undoubtedly holding back, the knowledge that he could touch you and cause bruises more than catering to his subconscious desire to tear you bit by bit just to get more of you. “Why… think about the past…”

His speech was slower but the words he was picking up from you to complete more coherent statements was remarkable in the time you had known each other. His fingers had drifted inwards ever so slightly, a centimeter apart until he had encapsulated your bottom lip with his thickened thumb. You swallowed with action, bringing your head forward and with a rush, Caesar had his forehead against your own and the back of his hand was embracing the back of your skull to keep you close. “When we have future?”

Caesar being protective / Defending You. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

It was difficult to describe. The way that Caesar looked at you, his hands splayed with blood when he went to cup the side of your face to keep it steady, the bloodied hand print adorned the usually smooth and loved nature of your skin. Frantic, the way his eyes split between your fluttering lids, the way that he looked at your lips before bringing his face close to feel the air coming from them. Alive, that action said. Lulling your head to the side, you found it difficult to maintain the stance your neck had to stay upright. You looked at Caesar for a second in a gartered haze, your eyes blurring to focus with intent. Swallowing softly, you narrowed your gaze but could not find it in yourself to centralize on any focal point.

Your head lulled back, your vision blurred.

Snapping yourself out of unconsciousness, you gasped when you felt your body weight leaving the ground but you couldn’t do anything about it, not even struggle to get a grip on whatever, or whomever was picking you up, one arm was resting against your chest, the other sprung out to the air as you were hoisted upwards. The fur that stuck to the fabric of your cargo pants, usually such a treat against your bare skin, was starch with a mixture of blood and rain water.

Your head lulled back, your vision was flushed with red.

You could see Koba, at least you thought in whatever drift of awareness you found yourself in. Smiling, it almost looked like as he signed a rather vague ‘weak human’. A body next to him--- You groaned to yourself at the approximation of his stance, the pure sweep of aggression he had against his fellow brother, gait intimidating and wide, staring Koba down with the intensity of what had to be the sun. Movements, you couldn’t pick them apart. The two Apes became a tanglement of nothing but arms and legs scratching into the air, scratching at each other and your mind was unable to dictate them apart from each other as it became one continuous blur of darkened fur. You could have sworn you yelled his name, telling him to stop but that was tangled in the actions of you being carried away.

Something wet against your temple. You wanted nothing more to get rid of the aggravation that the sensation caused as it dripped from the side of your head into your hair and bunched the strands together but your arms weren’t complying with your brains commands to move. Words were fluttering around you, rumbling in nature like the thunder that would shake the Earth during a storm.

Koba. Pushed. Hit head.

You got that and you were suddenly placed against what felt like stone. Cold and smooth, there weren’t divots poking their way into your body, but the burning from your head made you wonder if you were even comprehensive enough to know that or if you were floating off into oblivion. Intentionally smoothed, you thought to yourself and laughed at that, trying to feebly hold onto brittle consciousness. The comfort of a smooth rock, the rock itself being harder than anything else against the curvature of your spine. With swiftness, you were being analyzed. Your head, primarily. A set of hands, calloused around the edges, were cradling your neck before aiming to place a cloth against the right side of your temple. You groaned at that, squeezing your eyes shut as it came almost flooding back to you in waves.

You had been sitting with Caesar, Blue Eyes, Maurice… Rocket, Ash, you felt silly like you were naming the entire Colony but there was one more scarred face that no matter how many times you were encountered with it, left you chilled to your spine from the lack of empathy every shown towards him and the hatred that seeped through, even through his one milky eye. Koba. The eternity of Caesar’s closest council… You had been there.

Smacking your lips, you tried to open your eyes all the way but the sting of liquid in them caused you to squeeze them shut as the presumed wound on the side of your head was being tendered by the beautiful adorned staff of Female Apes whom had knowledge to treat, primitive as the methods were to you at times. Caesar had… asked you to be there, at the meeting itself, the topic was what to do about the Human Colony in San Francisco. He figured maybe you could give good introspective advice given you were a human.

Something… God, your memory was blurred in a heated frenzied chase to remember the smaller notions of how you ended up with a head injury. Something was said, something Koba didn't agree with - you cracked your fuzzy mind but there was nothing you said that could have been said that would cause Koba to lash out and blatantly attack you. Not in front of Caesar, at least. He was aggressive around you, but he was also incredibly coy.

The room came to a halt, cloth pressed against your temple and swiped away the blood before ceasing as heavy thudded footsteps radiated through the small hut you were warmly encased in. Or the warmth was coming from your body's natural response to being hurt, you had no idea but it felt good enough as you urged your eyelids open for a split second. Caesar.

There was a rush of signing between the King and the other Apes in the room, and with one last glance at you, they dissipated, almost into the air behind Caesar as he sauntered forward, the prickle of his fur on edge still, blood on his hand but now? There was blood casing around his nose, downwards and against his thinned lips, into his mouth and splattered along his teeth.

Guilt surged in you, “Kob- You- Attacked---” Whatever you were trying to say was hushed as Caesar grasped the side of your head, gently this time and tilted so he could get a better view. “‘M okay. Just…” You made a clicking sound with your tongue, “Bonk.”

“Injury like this…” Caesar chuffed, trying so desperately to stop his heart from flying right out of his chest and going back to finish the job with one of his most trusted advisors, “Can… be bad for humans.”

You shut your eyes when he put your head back upright. The primal perception was washing off of Caesar like it was a deep revelation. It was almost smothering, the way that he grasped for the cloth and began cleaning your wound himself, eager to see just how much damage there was in some attempt to bid his time rather than lashing back at Koba for what had been done. “Ape,” His voice was nothing more than a low surge against you, “Do not kill Ape, but…”

There were no buts, you wanted to say as you squeezed your eyes shut when he placed the cloth against a rather tender spot. He pulled back adamantly, and moved forward to work another spot in your hairline and further into your hair. He knew, oh how he knew that you were going to complain about the dried blood in your hair, subconsciously Caesar found himself drawn to cope with that before you really became aware of it.

“Koba… wanted to prove… Human weaker than Ape… Should attack them. Pushed you to show,” Caesar gritted his teeth together and you swore you could hear the friction from inside of his mouth. It was evident in the stiffening of his body language that he was beating himself up for not being able to react fast enough to the situation, “Hit head on rock. Blood,” His voice hushed into a minor but hard whisper, “everywhere. Had you carried off… Before… ”

He didn't bother continuing on that train. It was dead and gone as far as Caesar was concerned, not wanting now to recollect how perfect it felt to have his hands against Koba’s threat when in the surge of a protective instinct that washed over him at the mere sight of you on the ground, unconscious. Caesar cradled your head with surprising gentleness and you found yourself relaxing right into it. The action itself spoke wonders of his true, deeply ingrained feelings. Mate, the hold said, my mate.

“We are weaker.” You laughed out, finally snapping yourself into a more lucid state. You suspected a concussion, but there was no clear way to know as you finally got your eyes to stay open and focused on the green and gold nature of Caesar’s irises. So close to your own, you could swoop up and kiss him if that was your desire. He only chortled in response to your words, knowing that joking was often used as a way to cope with messier situations.

“No,” Caesar reassured and brushed a hand through the other side of your head. Never with his fingers really ingrained in, but more like a mild petting of comfort, usually reserved for moments after climax when you had tangled against him in pleasure. “Koba… weak. You…” The Ape King took a deep breath in and let himself sink his head down to kiss his forehead lightly against yours, upside down. The captivation he had on you down to the minute detailing of his fur tickling under your nose always left you dizzying for more, and you were grateful that Caesar did not pull away this time and lingered, “You are my strength.”

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mooooonnnzz · 4 months ago

Note

HIIII I THINK REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN! in that case can I have something about celebrating your birthday with the pines and co :3 LOVE YOUR WRITING!!! It inspired me to start writing my own gf things, thank you!

Mable's Surprise Birthday Special

Platonic! Pines Family x Reader

★ BIRTHDAYYY!! FANFICC!!

★ its funny cuz u requested like a day after my bday and then a day before the twins bday like what a perfect timing!!

★ tw: fiddleauthor im kidding i love them sm i had to put fiddleford here

★ 4,5k words

★ gn!reader

★ a silly cute fic!!! i hc soos is a really good baker

★ req r still open!

“Welcome to Mable’s Birthday Special!” Mable noisily raved directly into the camera that she set up on a stand. “Now, I know what you’re thinking. Mable, it isn’t your birthday! And you’re correct on that. But it’s a special someone's birthday!” She plopped herself on her pink chair, pulling out a large colorful book from below and slamming it on the table. Clouds of glitter powdered the air, a fit of coughs spewing out of her mouth. “Agh, glitter attack!” She croaked out, swatting away the sparkling glitter with her hand.

Now covered in rainbow glitter, she broadly smiled at the camera. “Now, what was I saying?” She pondered out loud, tapping her chin as she looked up. “Oh!” She jumped up, looking back down at the book that was labeled ‘[Name]’s Birthday Ideas’.

“My siblings birthday is today!” She opened the book, flipping through an assortment of pages before stopping and striking her hand down on a certain page. “Believe or not, this is all the data I collected on [Name] so I can properly throw a birthday party extravaganza!” She leaned forward, passion flowing out of her. “And today, we are going to throw the best party ever.”

The footage unexpectedly cuts to another shot where she, Dipper and Wendy were decorating the living room and kitchen. “Hello, my fellow Mabelins!” She feverishly waves at the camera. “We are in the living room!” Dipper peeks his head into frame, his eyebrows furrowing. “Mabelins?” He repeats slowly. “Yeah! Mabelines. That’s what I call my fans.” She motions to the camera. “Mable, no one is going to see this.” Dipper blankly said, rearranging the party streamers in his hand so they wouldn’t get tangled. “Dude, don’t say that. That’ll totally ruin her spark!” Wendy tittered, taping individual letters one by one on the wall.

“But it’s true. Who’s actually going to sit down and watch Mabel’s videos?” Dipper remarked, taking a measured step up on the chair then onto the table. “[Name] is definitely gonna see this after the party.” Mable leaned in closer to the camera, whispering: “Brothers, am I right?”

Grabbing the camera, she aimed it at Dipper who was jumping up from the table, trying to stick up the party streamers on the ceiling. Zooming in on him, she spoke in an Australian accent. “And now, we have an orangutan in his natural habitat.”

Dipper grumbled, stomping his foot down on the wobbly table. “Mab–Ahp!” Dipper fell, taking the table along with him. Mable howled out in laughter, running towards him and capturing him twitching painfully on the floor. “Woah, dude. Are you okay?” Wendy got on one of her knees, helping up Dipper from the ground. Dipper quietly fussed under his breath, sending a deadly glare to Mable who wasn’t even paying attention, too wrapped up in her laughing frenzy.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Thanks, Wendy.” He dusts himself, picking up the discarded party streamers from the floor. “I’ll hang these up for you, dude. Don’t worry.” She takes the streamers from Dipper’s hand, much against his protests. “I can do them, Wendy. It’s okay!” He watched enviously as Wendy grabbed a chair and stood on it, taping the streamers randomly around the ceiling. “There!” She hops off the chair, putting her hands on her hips and admiring her work. “Now Dipper won’t have to be sent to the hospital on [Name]’s birthday.”

Dipper sighed out, grabbing a bowl of confetti and sprinkling it all over the floor to make a confetti runway. “Thanks so much, Wendy.” A glum look fell on his face and Mable couldn’t help herself and zoom in on his face. “Poor Dip. Too short for his own good.” Bringing her hand in front of the camera, she waves at it. “I’ll see you in the next part!”

The footage cuts off to Ford in his red turtle sweater and black jeans, an apron that says ‘Kiss the Chef’ adorning his waist. She aims the camera up at his face. “Say, Grunkle Ford. What are we making today?”

Uneasily smiling at the camera, he hurriedly stirred the batter. Some splattered out of the bowl and landed on the counter. “We are making a cake!” He tried to sound chipper but he couldn’t hide the distressed look on his face. Oblivious to his stress, she backs up, showing the messy countertop. Batter dripped from the counter and onto the floor where a little goopy pile had been ever so slowly festering. And upon further inspection, Ford had clumps of batter and flour stuck to hair. The white powder was dusted in streaks on his face and clothes.

“And who’s we?” She spun around for dramatic effect, making her own drumming effects. “Pumpkin, what are you doin’?” Stan walks in, walking past the spinning Mabel and peering his eyes over to the cooking cake in the oven. She stops nowhere near Stan and has to turn back around to show Stan in the frame. “This is my Grunkle Stan! Twin brother of my Grunkle Ford–,” She zooms in on their faces. “--If you couldn’t tell!”

“Ford, the cake isn’t risin’.” He grabs a mitten and opens the oven. A blast of black smoke wafted into his face. “What?” Ford drops the bowl onto the messy counter, walking over to Stan who was coughing like a maniac while waving the mitten around to disperse the cloud of smoke. “How is it not rising? We added baking powder into the cake, didn’t we?” He snatches the mitten from Stan and slips it on. Grabbing the steaming pan, he placed it on the counter. “Is it supposed to be that color?” Stan grimaces at the muddied charcoal black cake. “How is the consistency still the same an hour later!” Ford scooped the slimy goo and watched it grossly plop back down on the pan. “Who’s taste testing the cake?” Mable curiously asked. Ford and Stan looked at each other before sticking their hand out, yelling, “Not it!”

The clip cuts to Ford and Stan violently spewing out the cake into the sink or trash can. “What are we doing wrong!” Stan forced out through gags. “I don’t know!” Ford heaves out into the sink. “What’s goin’ on?” Fiddleford saunters into the chaotic kitchen with Soos following behind him. “Hey, dudes!” He waves at Ford and Stan who are still coughing into the sink and trash can. “Hey, Grunkle Fiddleford! Hey, Soos!” Mable turned the camera over to the newcomers.

Fiddleford stepped into the kitchen, careful with where he put his feet down and went over to Ford’s side. He put his hand on Ford’s back and moved his hand up and down in a comforting manner. “Darlin’, what in the hell happened here?”

“Me and Stan tried making cake.” The mention of cake has Ford’s stomach churning once again. “Oh, yikes.” He breathes out, teeth bared. “Hun, why don’t ya sit down with Stan? Me and Soos can handle this, right Soos?” Soos’s head perks up at hearing his name. “Yeah! We can make a pizza cake out of real pizza with like, ten layers!” Stan cringes. “That doesn’t sound right.”

Stan sweetly smiles at Fiddleford. “Thank you, my love.” Fiddleford matches his smile, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips. “Ewww!!” Mable shields the camera with the palm of her hand. “Cover yer eyes, Mable!” Fiddleford laughs. “You don’t have to ask me twice!”

Another clip plays and it's Mable marveling at a beautifully made and decorated tall 8 layered cake. “Now this is how you make a cake!” She dips her finger towards the cake to snag a bit of frosting when she was scooped up by Stan. “No, you don’t!” He moves her away from the cake, placing her back down on the floor. “I feel like out of all the people here, I thought you’d be so strict on not letting anyone touch or eat cake.”

“I just grow weak in the knees when I see a cake as beautiful as that one.” Mable stared at it starry eyed. “Alright, that’s enough of that.” His hand flop around the camera as he attempts to find the turn off button. “Okay, so how can I turn this o–”

The next clip is Soos delightfully munching on cake with Mable beside him. “We just couldn’t resist!” Mable says with her mouth full of cake. “I just wanted some cake, dude!”

Footsteps approach the kitchen and both Mable and Soos look at each other with fear stricken on their faces. Jumping off the chair, she grabs her plate of cake and shoves it into her sweater. Soos shoves the whole piece into his mouth, smearing the frosting and cake crumbs all over his mouth.

“Grunkle Ford, have you seen my–” Dipper stops dead in his tracks, eyes wide at the marvelous cake. “Is this the cake I heard Grunkle Fiddleford talk about?” He whispers, his eyes looking over to Mable and Soos who were rigid statues.

“This thing?” Mable jabs a thumb in its general direction. “I have no idea what this is!” She nervously laughs out, pieces of crumbled cake sludge out of her sweater and plops down on the floor. “Righhhtt…” Dipper takes a step back. “I’ll leave you two alone.” He sends a cautionary glance at Soos and Mable before walking out. “Phew!” Soos wipes his forehead with his forearm. “That was close, wasn’t it?”

“Super close.” She grabs on a piece of cake that was in her sweater and munches on it. She offers one out to Soos who happily takes it and shovels it into his mouth.

The clip choppily jumps to the entrance door to the gift shop. “Stan went out to grab [Name] cause we kinda left them alone in the mall. Sorry not sorry [Name]! But he’s getting them over here, so any minute they’re going to come in here!” Mable whispers to the camera. She’s hiding behind a can of monster eyes, the camera very obviously on top of the canisters. “Dipper is hiding in a box full of plastic peanuts. Soos is behind the counter with Wendy, they have party poppers in their hands. Fiddleford and Ford are in the living room. They’re act two.” She brought up two fingers and wiggled them.

Distance voices could be heard coming from outside the shack. “They’re here, they’re here!” She loudly whispers.

“Who’s idea was it to leave me in the mall?” Mable you ask. She snickered quietly and pointed at herself, the culprit of the idea. “We didn’t leave you at the mall? We were there with you.” Stan terribly lied and you saw right through it. “Grunkle Stan, I don’t know why you lie so much.”

The knob of the door jostles a bit, altering everyone that they were here before it opened. “Why is it so dark–”

“Surprise!” Popping noises came from Soos and Wendy and clumped up colorful strings fell on top of your head. Dipper tripped out of the box full of peanuts, running over to give you a self-Mable made birthday sash. “Oh!” You grab the sash, slinging it around you with a chuckle. “What is all of this?”

“Happy birthday!” Mable popped out from behind the cans, camera in hand. “Say hello to the camera [Name]!” You gave a shy wave. “Was this the reason why I was left behind at the mall?” You remove the colorful strings off your hair and throw it at Stan who sputters in surprise. “Yeah! And there’s one last surprise.”

“Happy Birthday!” Ford and Fiddleford jump out of the living room doorway into the gift shop, blowing a party horn into your face.

“OH MY–”

The frame freezes on you midway screaming for a second before it switches to a whole new piece of footage where Ford is covering your eyes, blindly leading you into the kitchen where your eaten cake resides. “Okay, ready?” Ford looks at you, a huge excited smile playing at his lips. “No, not really.”

Ford ignores you and peels back his hands and bestows you the beautiful sight of your unnaturally tall wobbling cake. “That’s a really tall cake.” You watch it dangerously wobble to the side. “Is the cake supposed to be wobbling?” You ask, looking around to see everyone’s mortified faces and two stray guilt stricken expressions. “What? That’s ain’t supposed to be happenin’…”

Fiddleford approaches the cake and oggles it, his eyes landing on a certain spot on the backside of the cake, a wave of fury flashes on his face before he calms himself down and very sweetly smiles at the little crowd gathered in the kitchen.

The camera catches Mable’s nervous gulp.

“Who was takin’ big chomps of the cake me and Soos made?” His voice betrayed his sweet smile with how snappy he sounded.

“Wasn’t me. I was with Dipper decorating.” Wendy coolly said. “Y-Yeah! We were.” Dipper solidifies his alibi, eyes locking with Mable’s anxious ones. “You can’t point any fingers at me! I was real busy gettin’ [Name] back from the mall.” Stan lifted his hands up defensively. “Again, out of all the options, why mall?” You grumbled under your breath.

“I was with you the whole time, Fidds.” Fiddleford smiled at Ford, his voice sickeningly sweet when he spoke to Ford. “I know, hun.” Then he changes back to finding the culprits who ate his cake. “He’s really serious about that cake we ate.” Soos spoke into Mabel’s ear loudly. Fiddleford’s gaze locked down onto Mable and Soos.

“Mable, sweetheart. Could ya quit recordin’ just for a quick second.”

The footage cuts to a somber Mabel sitting in a cold desolate corner with Soos on the other end. “I got put in the naughty corner! What is this joke!” Mable threw her hands up in the air dramatically, having them flop down to her sides with a loud melodramatic sigh.

“It’s only just for a bit, pumpkin! After we set up the table you’ll be back here! Same goes for you, Soos!” Stan’s gruff spoke from the kitchen.

“Okay, thanks Mr. Pines!”

“Ugh, we shouldn’t have ever eaten that cake.” Mable dragged a heavy hand down her face, pulling at it. Soos’s stomach roared in hunger. A laugh leaves Soos, his attention turning to Mable. “Do you still have some of that cake in your sweater? I’m kinda hungry.”

“I think so? Let me check.” She digs her hand into her shirt and pulls out a clump of cake that had strands of hair and sweater fuzz on it. “Our last one.” Mable whispered dejectedly.

“Mable, do you have your camera?” Ford peeks his head out of the kitchen to see Mable handing a mysterious ball to Soos, the camera in front of her. “You’re not supposed to have this, missy.”

“I know.” She frowns deeply when Ford snatches up her pink glitter camera. Ford fumbles with it a bit, the last shot before the scene switched was Soos taking a hearty bite of the ball of cake.

“Is this thing working?” Stan’s voice spoke from behind the camera. “Yeah, it’s working.” Wendy confirmed, tapping at the blaring red light to signal its recording. “Today is [Name]’s birthday! Right, sweetie?” He accidentally shoves the camera right at your face.

“Woah, okay!” You giggled, carefully pushing Stan away from you. “It is my birthday. I think you all are more excited about it than me.”

Wendy walks over to you with a party hat in hand. “It's like you’re asking for us to forget it.” She hands you the hat. “If any of you ever forget my birthday, you will not hear the end of it!” You glared at everyone, pointing at them in a smooth motion with your party hat.

“They’re not kidding, guys.” Dipper’s eyes have a distant traumatized look to them. “I have seen it firsthand.” Stan added, flipping the camera to his traumatized face before flipping it back onto you.

You snap the party hat on you with a smile. “I feel stupid being the only one with a party hat.” You walk over to the box full of party hats and grab an armful of party hats. “Tune in and find out if I’m able to put party hats on everyone!” You make a swooshing noise as your hand descends on the camera, palm covering the lens.

“Stan, that’s when you stop record—“

The next set of footage had everyone, even the ones who were grounded for a short while, all huddled up in a group, party hats on. “I got them to all wear party hats!” You cheered, picking up Waddle’s who innocently trudged into the kitchen. “Even Waddles has one.” You cooed at the pig before putting him back down on the floor. “Okay, everyone disperse! Time to start singin’ happy birthday.” Fiddleford announced.

Everyone surrounds the decorated table with the wobbling cake. Each shove and push to the table had Fiddleford sucking a nervous breath in.

“Okay, ready?” Ford held up three fingers and started counting down by three.

The whole room erupted into singing the second all of Ford's fingers were down. “Happy birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy birthday to [Name]! Happy birthday to youuuu!”

“Make a wish! Make a wish!” Mable thrummed her hand against the table. The cake shook and trembled and everyone watched with bated breath.

The cake stills and everyone lets out a sigh of relief. “Welp, wasn’t that close? Am I right?” Stan laughs, slapping his hand on the table. “Stanley!”

The cake plunges down, splattering everyone with its frosting and filling. Silence filled the room.

Waddles squeaks happily at the delicious treat, feasting on the piece of cake on the floor. You lick around your lips, grabbing a taste of the cake. “Mmm! This is good. Fiddleford, Soos, you guys really did a good job on making the cake!”

“Thanks [Name]!” Soos is wolfing down a piece of his own cake that had showered all over him. “Glad ya like it, sweetheart..” Fiddleford sighed out, plopping his head on Ford’s shoulder.

“My camera!” Mable cried out, darting over to her camera that was weighing down from heavy frosting. She fortunately caught it in her hand, wiping off the icing with the sleeve of her sweater and accidently turning off the camera.

The footage clips to the last video Mable took of the day. You were sitting down on a chair, a table full of gift bags and hand wrapped objects filled the table. “We are now opening presents!” Mable exclaimed, chucking a fist full of glitter in the air. “Ah, my eye!” Stan screeched out, sprinting into the kitchen to run water over his eye, bumping into the camera in the process. “Grunkle Stan! Be careful.” Mable held the camera stand, keeping it still. After a few minutes of hearing running water, Stan walks out with an irritated eye. “Open, open!” Mable chanted.

You pluck a gift from the table, flipping it on its back to read the name sharpied on it. “Okay, the first gift is from…” You squinted, reading it out. “Grunkle Ford!” You show the mysterious gift to everyone. Curious questions left their mouths as you opened the book shape gift. Shedding the last piece of gift wrapper, you saw what you had gotten. “A book on quantum physics?” You let out a pensive ‘hm’.

“You could never go wrong with math!” He proclaimed, sticking out a finger into the air. You awkwardly laugh. “Yeah, thanks Grunkle Ford.” You look under the table to see Waddle’s resting on his belly. “Here, Waddles. I got a new toy for you.” You whisper, waving the book in front of his face. He brings his snout to the book, sniffing it before letting out a snort. He grabs the book with his mouth and places it down on the floor, he pads around it for a minute and flops down on the book, snuggling into it.

“Next gift!” You pop your head out from under the table and grab the next gift by its handles. You stuck your hand inside and latched onto something. Pulling it out, you came face to face with a Mystery Shack coupon. You didn’t even need to guess who this was from. “Really Grunkle Stan?”

“Oh, shut it. There’s one more thing left in there!”

You place the card on the table and dig your hand back into the bag. You grabbed onto a bottle and took your hand out, your eyes widening at the wine bottle. “Um?” You warily look at Stan whose jaw is dropped on the floor. “Who put that there?” Stan marched over to you and took the bottle of wine from your hand. A few quiet snickers came from Dipper and Mable. “That’s my bottle. You get your own.”

“Uhm?” You look back down in the gift bag and flip it upside down. A wad of neatly folded cash plopped down on your lap. Your eyes brighten and you look over to Stan who’s smiling proudly to himself. “Is this real cash?” You grab the cash from your lap and inspect the dollar bills. “How in the world would I ever give ya fake money? Put some more faith in your Grunkle!”

You gleefully put the cash back into the side and place it beside you. “Up next is…” You grab a hold of a large square wrapped in Christmas wrapping. The name Soos was elegantly written on the wrapping paper. “Soos!”

“Yes!” Soos pumps his fist in the air. “You are going to love it, dude!”

Peeling off the wrapping paper revealed the gift to be your favorite music artist vinyl. “Soos! These are expensive, how did you get this?”

Soos glanced over to Stan and looked back at you. “I have my ways!” He smiled.

You put the vinyl in your bag with the cash and moved to the next present. Fiddleford’s gift was next and he had given you a beautiful heartfelt note accompanied with a photo of you, Fiddleford and Ford. You thought that was it when he told you to shake the envelope with a wink. A few couple hundred bucks fell out that had you gasping for air.

“There’s no way you just copied me, Fidds.” Stan pointed an accusatory finger at him. “We just had the same idea, Stanley.”

“Grunkles, Grunkles! Please, no fighting.” Mable stood in between them, her hands flat against their stomachs. “My gift is next and [Name] needs their full attention on it!”

Mable’s gift was a conflicting mess. You couldn’t decide if it was cute or oddly weird. She had given you a scrapbook, innocent at first, but opening the book showed that she had been harvesting everyone’s hair and gluing them in the book, crudely making a heart full of hair with your name spelt in cursive on the inside. The pages following had copious amounts of glitter, stickers and the strong scent of glue, but they were pretty normal enough, sharing memories of you, her and Dipper in some pages and then others had the family all together. Then there was a page that had you sit back and question your sister's mental wellbeing. She had a whole page dedicated to candid photos she had snapped of you while you weren’t looking.

She had a photo of you sleeping, brushing your teeth, talking to Stan, playing ddnmd with Ford and Dipper, etc. And to make it a little more weirder, she had made everyone write little comments of what was their favorite thing in the picture. At least what everyone wrote was normal…

“Mable, thank you very—“

“—Go to the last page!”

You flip to the last page that was blank. A puzzled look formed on your face and you opened your mouth to ask Mable what was this when you were pelted with a wave of confetti, glitter and sprinkles. A drawing of everyone holding hands launched out of the book and harmoniously started singing happy birthday. Mable started singing along, busting down her own moves, satisfied with the gift she gave you.

You were coughing up glitter and confetti for the next few minutes. Stan came up behind you to pluck the stray sprinkles that got caught in your hair. Waddles made the gracious effort to clean the floor by eating the sprinkles and a bit of the confetti.

Dipper’s gift was more sentimental. In a rainbow colored envelope, made by yours truly Mable, was a letter that Mable and him collaborated on and wrote together such a nice letter that you doubted if your younger siblings really had made this themselves. With teary eyes, you opened your arms wide and they didn’t waste a moment to run up to you and jump in your arms.

“That really sweet, thank you guys.”

You held them in your arms for a minute or two before they let you go and went back to their spot.

Wendy’s gift was a nice way to top everything off. Seems like she had roped everyone in it and made this whole poster board full of their favorite moments that you had shared with everyone. Branching from embarrassing ones that some were unfortunately captured by Mabel’s trusty camera to unforgettable beautiful memories.

“Who came up with this idea?” You ask with a laugh, looking at a pinned photo where you were mid horrified face when Stan was cannonballing into the pool. He was halfway in, water already sprouting out and ready to splash you and drown Dipper and Mabel.

“It was a mix of Grunkle Ford and Mable. They’re surprisingly creative when put together.” Wendy said, jerking a thumb over to Mable high sixing Ford. “You guys really went all out for this, didn’t you?” You smile softly. A mix of playful scoffs and ‘of course!’ filled the room. “Who wouldn’t want to go all out for you?” Stan wrapped an arm around your neck, pulling you in a side hug. “I think we might need to drill that into yer head. Yer jus’ full of sugar, who wouldn’t want to give ya such an amazin’ birthday?” Fiddleford affectionately ruffled your hair.

Ford hugged your other side, slipping a note in your hand. “Is this another sappy note that’s going to make me cry?” Ford chuckles, nodding. “Group hug without us? What is Mable going to say?” Wendy joked. “She’s probably going to kill them.” Dipper laughed. “Who’s killing wh–” She turns around and gasps loudly. “Group hug!” She grabs Soos’s hand and practically hurls herself into the hug. “Dipper, Wendy. Get in here!” They join in on the hug.

“Happy Birthday [Name].” Dipper tried his best to at least give you a slight hug but everyone was so jumbled up together, all he could do was pat his head against your upper stomach. Everyone else joined in and told you happy birthday. Snuggling further into the hug, you smiled. “Thank you guys.”

A warning beep rings in the air. “What is that?” Soos asks. Another final warning beep. “Oh my god! My camera!” Mable shuffles out of the hug and darts over to her camera. The frame freezes on Mable reaching out for her camera with everyone staring at the cameras with wide owl eyes.

Pink glitter mixed in with blue plain text faded into the screen saying ‘Happy Birthday to the best sibling in the world!’ and the video ends.

Taglist: @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @lovexsage, @teddycricketdream, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @raventeen @cedarmoonzz, @katharine3000

dm or comment if you want to be added/removed!!

i also posted my first fic on ao3!! it's a fiddleauthor drabble cuz i just love them sm. so if anyone wants to check it out the title of it is Amore Mio Aiutami (Main Theme) n my username barbatoz!! :p i'll only post fiddleauthor and billford over there :3

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