(Yay! Let's talk about hybrid babies, this time for real!
So, I did a little headcanon of how I imagine hum-apes babies in the POTA universe, or well, in fanfiction. This would be a child with Noa/César/Koba/Blue Eyes/Anaya/Proximus. And maybe I'll add more in the future, I don't know. And then maybe I'll do something more specific about what fatherhood would be like with Noa, Caesar and Koba )
-The symptoms are like any normal human pregnancy. Nothing to say about this
although, the pregnancy lasts 8 months instead of 9, and the fetus is actually very small, so the belly isn't noticeable until 5 months, and it won't look as big as a normal pregnancy, unless you have twins.
-Childbirth isn't especially complicated, probably easier than most human births, because, well, the baby is smaller. But that doesn't mean it won't be painful; it simply reduces the chances of tearing considerably. Even if it comes out feet first, it will be easier to deliver than a human baby. They also tend to last less time if everything is okay, you know, correct position, dilation and all.
Oh, let me add, if they are born prematurely, they could be in danger due to the conditions, but they could also have a very good chance if they receive enough warmth (mommy's hugs🥺 ) and food. Because of their accelerated development compared to humans, they will spend less time in that weakened state.
At first glance, they are very similar to a baby ape. The mix is very homogeneous, and you could confuse them, but:
• They have human feet (this becomes a concern especially in the Eagle Clan, where climbing is extremely important and this could lead to complications).
• Their noses are also more human-like, still a bit flat, but human-shaped and protruding.
• Their arms and legs are an intermediate anatomy between the two species, with slightly longer arms and slightly shorter legs. They can still walk on all fours, but it's more difficult for them than apes, especially if they plan to run.
•Their ears are smaller, closer to humans, and their fangs are less sharp but still useful for causing damage.
• They have fur all over their bodies like any ape, but it's a bit thinner, so in winter they need to be covered up a bit (a hat, a light coat, and some cloth shoes for our baby if it's snowing 🤭).
• Their skin is softer; their faces are a little smoother (they still have wrinkles, but not as many). It's also a bit more sensitive, just as the reader will need footwear in certain areas because the skin is more fragile, especially there. (They will need small shoes, or bandage they feet 🥺 )
• I haven't decided on this yet, but the hair on their heads could grow as long as human hair, or maybe just a little longer than apes'. You know, the length of each hair is determined by genetics, so they could inherit whatever determines that hair length.
Here, too, everything is very balanced and homogeneous. They grow faster than a human, but noticeably slower than a baby ape.
• Human babies spend their first month sleeping, eating, and doing their business. Hybrid babies will be very awake and active from their first days of life, although they will sleep much more than a baby ape. It's quite obvious: apes can move around from the first few days. The hybrid baby will be just as alert and awake as they are, but won't have the strength to do so.
• Human babies lift their heads after three months; well, these babies will do so after the first month.
• Between 6 and 10 months, they begin to walk. And they will do it on their two feet, like a human child.
• After the first year, they already articulate many words, although they begin to communicate much earlier through signs.
I see a very strong tendency to look like an ape and behave like a human:
• They take their first steps on two legs, like a human baby. Their center of gravity will be more similar to that of humans, due to the way and speed at which they grow, and because of the way their legs are at this stage, it will be easier for them to walk and run on two legs.
• They don't cry like babies, but they do vocalize a lot and complain if they're physically uncomfortable, hitting and waving their arms to communicate their discomfort.
• They can sing! Their vocal cords are very human-like; their voices are really soft, so they can sing and harmonize like humans do. (great advantage for the eagle clan)
• They can sing, but they can't scream. Don't ask me what kind of throat anatomy would allow for that, but I can see hybrid babies making small sounds and whimpers, but not shrieking and screaming at the top of their lungs like a human baby. I suppose a scream needs a very high frequency. Apes speak at a fairly low frequency, and a hybrid's vocal range is right in the middle of that—high enough to produce a soft sound, but not quite as loud.
• They can swim. Apes can't swim because they lack fat, right? Well, our baby is a bit plumper than baby apes, so, especially during early infancy, they can swim. Perhaps as they grow, this becomes more difficult, but they could develop the ability. ((advantage for coastal apes, like Proximus Caesar))
• Upon reaching adulthood, they will have the average strength of an ape, slightly less than the others, but still very strong. And they will tend to fight more strategically, like humans, using more kicks than punches with their full body weight. (Perhaps they are a little more flexible, and that's why they can fight like that)
𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: Caesar x F! H! Reader
𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: After the storm and seeing the domesticity between his sons and you, he cannot help but come to terms with his feelings for you.
A/n: MERRY CHRISTMAS & HAPPY HOLIDAYS MY PotA FAMILY!! My gift to you all this holidays is a fluffy Caesar fic!! Hope you all have a wonderful time and enjoy the fic!
Please like, reblog and comment. Your support and comments is what fuels me to keep writing
☆彡･::･★彡･::･☆彡
From the day Caesar brought you into the colony, his heart never truly returned to its place.
You had been weak then, exhausted, wounded, human in a world that had learned to fear them. Some apes watched with narrowed eyes, fingers tight on their weapons. Others whispered that you would bring danger. Caesar heard them all… and promptly ignored them.
“She stays,” he had said.
You were human but you did not push yourself into their world, but you listened, learned, waited... Some apes never fully trusted you, their eyes following your steps, their hands ready and you couldn’t blame them. Others softened over time, drawn to your gentle nature, to the way you spoke as if every life before you mattered. You never tried to prove yourself.
But you learned which apes preferred distance and which allowed closeness. Learned the rhythm of the colony, the way voices lowered at dusk, the unspoken rules of space and respect. When some apes turned away from you, you didn’t chase for their approval and when others warmed up to you, you accepted them with quiet gratitude.
What surprised Caesar most was how you treated his sons.
Even in your maternal affections towards them, you never tried to replace Cornelia. Never took what was not yours. You simply were there, a steady presence for his sons, gentle hands, soft words. If Blue Eyes wanted help weaving or asked about the old human world, you answered. If Cornelius fussed or cried, you soothed him with patience that never felt forced. You never claimed them just simply filled the spaces where fear or loneliness settled offering warmth, stories, steady hands. Blue Eyes grew used to sitting beside you and Cornelius slept more soundly when you were near.
Caesar watched, month after month, in silence, his chest aching in a way he did not yet have words for.
Seasons shifted as the colony grew used to your laughter, to the sound of your voice drifting between shelters. Some apes still watched carefully— fewer now, others greeted you openly. Children followed you like little ducks, some perched on you, others holding your hands. Elders listened when you spoke and Caesar...
Caesar found himself looking for you before meetings, listening for the characteristic pitter-patter of your footsteps, measuring his days by whether he had last spoken to you.
He told himself it was gratitude.
He told himself it was trust.
He told himself many things, but none of them quieted his heart.
The night the storm came, the sky split open as thunder roared low and deep, echoing through the trees. Lightning flared in distant flashes, lighting the sky white. The wind rose violent, uneasy and wild.
Cornelius whimpered.
Caesar felt it immediately, the small, frightened sounds, the tension in his youngest son’s body. He moved toward him, but before he could reach him, you were already there.
“It’s all right,” you murmured, gathering the baby ape gently into your arms as Cornelius clutched your shirt, trembling and hiding his face in your neck, seeking warmth and security. You sat down in the cover of the hut, rocking him slowly as another rumble passed through the sky. Blue Eyes hesitated before joining, sitting close enough that your shoulders touched.
Thinking of ways of soothing the baby chimp, you remembered a song you used to sing to yourself at nights such as these. Softly, you began to sing, not loudly, not to perform but to soothe the apes in the refuge with you. Humming a soft, steady melody. Old, mournful and beautiful, like wind through branches, your voice rose and fell with the storm, calm where the sky was fierce.
You rested your cheek against Cornelius’ head, a small nostalgic smile in your lips as you began to sing.
“A young man walked through the forest
With his quiver and hunting bow
He heard a young girl singing
And followed the sound below"
The other apes quieted, listening and as some leaned closer, others stilled where they stood. They did not know all the words, but they understood tone, the way sorrow and beauty twined together.
Cornelius relaxed against your chest, the vibrations of your voice soothing his nerves while Blue Eyes’ shoulders eased, breathing a sigh of relief. And one by one, other apes drew closer non threatening, just listening. Soon you were surrounded by the other younglings, who had found refuge in your lap, legs or side.
“There he found the maiden
Who lives in the willow
He called to her as she listened
From a ring of toadstools, red"
Maurice frowned slightly, understanding dawning. A maiden bound to a tree, a spirit tied to her land.
“Come with me, my maiden
Come from thy willow bed…"
Cornelius stirred, uneasy against your chest, your arms tightened protectively.
“She looked at him serenely
And only shook her head."
A murmur passed through the listeners, a recognition of the meaning.
“See me now, a ray of light in the moon dance.
See me now, I cannot leave this place.
Hear me now, a strain of song in the forest.
Don’t ask me to follow where you lead"
Blue Eyes’ brow furrowed in concern, his head finding your shoulder while Caesar felt something shift deep in his chest.
“A young man walked through the forest
With a flower and coat of green,
His love had hair like fire
Her eyes an emerald sheen
She wrapped herself in beauty
So young and so serene
He stood there under the willow
And he gave her the yellow bloom”
The apes understood this part easily; Courtship, admiration, beauty offered with open hands.
“Girl, my heart you’ve captured
Oh, I would be your groom…"
Some of the younger apes that rested in a circle at your feet exchanged glances. Love. A promise.
“She said she’d wed him never
Not near, nor far, nor soon."
The meaning settled like ash around the hut, because love does not mean surrender.
Your voice returned, heavier now, edged with warning.
“See me now, a ray of light in the moon dance
See me now, I cannot leave this place.
Hear me now, a strain of song in the forest
Don’t ask me to follow where you lead.”
Caesar’s breath caught as your voice softened but didn’t falter.
“A young man walked through the forest
With an axe sharp as a knife.
I'll take the green—eyed fairy
And she shall be my wife.
With her, I'll raise my children.
With her, I'll live my life.
The maiden wept when she heard him
When he said he'd set her free.”
A low growl sound passed through the crowd from several apes listening intently. Fear.
Anger
“He took his axe and used it
To bring down her ancient tree
Now your willow’s fallen
Now you belong to me"
No ape needed translation for this, they knew the feeling, they understood perfectly the force.
The Ownership.
Destruction in the name of love.
“See me now (see me now, see me now) a ray of light in the moon dance
See me now (see me now, see me now) I cannot leave this place.
Hear me now (hear me now, hear me now) a ray of light in the moon dance
Don't ask me (don't ask me) to follow where you lead.”
Caesar’s heart clenched painfully as he looked across from you to the serene look in your face, your closed eyes as your head rested against Blue eyes, Cornelius quietly resting against your chest, your chin softly rested upon his head when you sang the final verses, that came like a quiet elegy.
“She followed him out of the forest
And collapsed upon the earth.
Her feet had walked but a distance
From the green land of her birth.”
You rocked Cornelius more gently now as his breath evened out in quiet sleep, voice trembling just slightly.
“She faded into a flower,
That would bloom for one bright eve."
Silence reigned as the loss of the fairy settled in the hearts of the ape colony.
“He could not take from the forest
What was never meant to leave~"
As the song ended the storm had softened. Cornelius slept deeply against your chest, ear pressed against your heartbeat. Blue Eyes’ breathing was slow and even as he too had fallen asleep against your shoulder. Around them, the apes stood not just soothed, but thoughtful.
Caesar stood frozen, his heart beating erratically.
He understood the song fully now.
He watched the way Cornelius trusted you completely. The way Blue Eyes leaned closer without thinking. The way the apes, even the ones wary of your presence, had gathered, their tension fading as your song wrapped around them.
This human woman had done what Caesar’s strength and command never could.
She had belonged.
Caesar felt it then in the sharp and overwhelming beating of his heart, as if it had been pulled straight from his chest and placed in his hands. ‘This is what love looks like’, something inside him whispered. ‘Not possession. Not fear. But presence.’
Love that cages destroys.
Love that demands breaks what it claims.
Love that honors allows life to remain whole.
You looked up at him then, eyes warm, uncertain, open and in that moment, Caesar finally accepted what his heart had been telling him for months.
You were not a threat, neither were you a guest.
You were family.
And he– He was in love.
He stepped forward, finally sitting next to you and his sons, and spoke quietly, so only you could hear. “Thank you… for choosing us without leaving yourself behind.” he said quietly.
Not as a leader. Not as a protector.
But as a father, as a man who had finally understood his own heart.
You smiled, warm and gentle, as if you had always known. You laid your head on his chest as Cornelius slept peacefully and Blue Eyes smiled faintly in his sleep, and finally, Caesar felt peace settle into his chest.
The storm had passed and the forest had listened, and accepted you as one.
That night, as the colony settled back into sleep, Caesar remained near, no longer watching from afar, no longer afraid of the truth. In the wake of the storm, something strong and steady had taken root like a song in the trees.
After that night, Caesar had decided he must court you properly. Although he does not court the way humans do. There are no grand gestures, no declarations. Instead, there are small offerings, the language of his people, the language of survival and trust.
He brings you fruit before meetings, always the ripest. He walks beside you instead of ahead. When disputes rise in the colony, his voice lowers instinctively if you’re near, as though he doesn't want the sharp edges of leadership to cut you.
Of course, you noticed but not all at once, slowly over time.
Sometimes you thank him with a smile that lingers just long enough to make his chest ache. Sometimes you touch his arm when you speak to him, brief and unthinking, almost instinctual, and he has to still himself so he does not lean into it like a starving thing.
He learns your habits, like the humming while working, like your preference between dawn or dusk. You listen more than speak but when you do speak, it is with care, as if words are seeds and not all soil deserves them and Caesar learns to wait.
Others notice too. Some apes soften further, seeing how you fit gently into their lives. The younger ones always look and giggle like they know something you’re not aware of yet. Others remain wary even though they cannot deny how the children seek you out, how calm settles when you’re near.
Everyone sees how Caesar looks at you, not like a leader that surveys a responsibility but rather like a man looks at the place he belongs.
It all happens on a quiet night.
No storms. No danger. Just the low sound of insects and the slow breathing of the forest.
Cornelius sits between you, small hands gripping your fingers as you help him stack smooth stones. Blue Eyes works nearby, carving marks into wood, glancing up every now and then to include you in his quiet commentary of which wood makes the best arrows.
Caesar sits slightly apart, watching. Always watching.
This is what undoes him.
Not battle, nor loss. But this peace, this domesticity.
Caesar has had very little calm domesticity in his life.
Cornelius leans into your side, sleepy and trusting. You adjust without thinking, your arm coming around him, protective but light and Blue Eyes smiles faintly, content as he watches from the corner of his eye.
They look like a family and the realization strikes Caesar so sharply he has to look away.
I did not plan this. I did not choose it, but It grew anyway.
He thinks of Cornelia, of what she would have wanted. Of how she loved strength, yes, but also kindness. How you have never tried to replace her.
You simply loved what remains.
‘If I speak, I risk everything… But if I stay silent, I lose myself.’
Cornelius yawns and you laugh softly, kissing the top of his head, a simple thing, instinctive but it makes Caesar stand.
“Come,” he says quietly. “It is late.”
Blue Eyes nods and gathers his tools. You lift Cornelius easily, gathering him in your arms as though you had done so all your life. You move together toward their hut, the tallest overlooking the rest of the colony. Later, when the boys are asleep, Caesar finds himself alone with you by the dying fire.
The silence is not awkward but it is full of feelings boiling over.
He stares at the flames, searching for words that will not fracture what you have built until he finds his courage as Caesar finally speaks.
“I watched you tonight.” You turn toward him with a small smile, curious but not alarmed.
“You do that a lot,” you gently quip, looking at his serious green eyes. He huffs, it was true.
Caesar exhales slowly, reigning in his uneven breathing.
“My sons trust you,” he says. “The colony trusts you.”
You wait with batted breath.
“Caesar trusts you,” he adds, voice rough with honesty. You don’t interrupt as Caesar finally looks at you, a vulnerable twinkle in his green eyes.
‘If I do not speak now, I never will.’
“Caesar… did not know,” he says, carefully, testing his words “that love could be quiet.”
Your breath stills in your chest, eyes widening at the vulnerable leader before you.
“Caesar thought it was… fire. Or pain. Or something Caesar had to fight for.” He shakes his head slightly, huffing in disbelief. “But you… you came without force. You stayed without being asked. You care without taking.” His hands curl against his knees. “and Caesar cannot help but…”
His eyes once again find yours, green seeking (e/c).
“I love you.” The words fall between the both of you, unadorned. True.
“I do not ask you to follow me,” he says, voice low. “I only ask… that you walk beside me… if you choose.”
Silence.
Then you reach out not afraid and take his hand in yours, grip warm. Certain.
“I already am,” You respond and slowly you pull your face closer to his, breathing against his lips, foreheads collide in a loving confession.
Later that same night, Caesar lies awake next to you in his nest, listening to the breathing of his sons and the quiet presence of the woman who slowly became part of their world.
The forest is still and for the first time in a long while, so is his heart.
Because he finally has learned how to love without cutting down the tree that shelters him.
☆彡･::･★彡･::･☆彡
A/n: Did y'all think I would forget my ape fam this Holiday season??? Here you go, our mighty Caesar and some fluffy moments with Blue Eyes and Cornelius! Let me know your thoughts, please!! Should I make a taglist for all my PotA fics? Tell me if you'd like to be tagged in all my PotA fics!! ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊
Title: Foliage.
Fandom: ( Dawn of the ) Planet of the Apes, ( War for the ) Planet of the Apes.
Pairing: Implied ! Caesar x Human!Reader. ( No descriptors, Gender neutral. )
Rating: T ( Mentions of war and tiny mentions of blood, but nothing too heavy.
Words: 2.4K
Summary: Set between Dawn of the Planet of the Apes and War for the Planet of the Apes - You are having a hard time with the changes that came so rapidly to your world. Caesar offers some wisdom.
( author notes at end. )
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All that was carried through the air, crisp and loud enough to smother, was the smell of smoke from the embers of the communal bonfire. It was far enough away but gently, the wind brought the scent to you and juxtaposed, it burned your eyes to the verge of minor tears around the edges. Your back was slightly moist from leaning against the mossy bark of a tree, but not enough to cause discomfort or even garner a shift in position. Sitting on the ground was never the best of ideas, especially in the early morning hours when the fog was beginning to settle against the Earth and coasted out in all directions. Anything under two feet tall was difficult to see and you risked being tripped over or crushed if someone came riding into the Colony horseback.
It was indeed a risk, but not one likely to come to fruition. The spot you had found yourself in was one that was reserved for moments like this. Where the weight of the world around you came tumbling in and you were helpless to stop it. Most of the Ape expeditions travelled out from the other side as a matter of convenience; it was where the horse stables were located. By all intents and purposes, you were free to sit on the ground here without worry, but still, it always lingered in the back of your mind like a plague.
There was no true sense of freedom for you anymore – not for a human at least. The Colony… Crinkling the leaf between your stiff fingers, you looked out into the small clearing that rested just beyond the edge of the place you and others not of your kind called home. Autumn was crushing itself into view and touch as evident by the item in your hand and many more scattered aimlessly along the forest floor. It used to be such an exciting thing - watching the leaves change color. From the vibrancy of green that shed its dominance into a sea of washed water pigment.
Yellows would fade into oranges, which would then kiss gently into reds and in turn that bled occasionally into the more rare sights such as rich purples and muddy browns as the season progressed. The shades would remind you that the year was coming to a draw, bookended now as the trees left their lives of summer behind for the bleakness of the Winter.
A slow breath escaped your lungs, exhaling all desires at the world that you had lost.
A slow breath swept into your lungs, inhaling all the necessities of the world you’ve come to be a part of.
Your joints were slightly painful from the chill that was holding in the air, you cursed not bringing your gloves but you wouldn’t be able to trace the dying veins on the yellow tinted leaf you decided to keep yourself busy with if you had. The Apes welcomed you with open arms after what happened. After the flu that ravaged and killed most of what you held dear, after the in-fighting amongst the Apes themselves - a clear depiction that they were too much like the Humans they sought to distinguish themselves from, after endless arguments that your mere existence within the Colony was a danger and that you were going to be the slow demise of all they had built.
Languid and painful, everyday that passed where you woke up in a bundle of furs amongst them was just another notch in the ticking-time bomb of your existence. And that was why you were so disconnected now, sitting on the muddy ground of the forest, eager to find some solace away from a culture that wasn’t yours, flying hands that spoke more often than vocal cords. Just for a second - anything to help ease and remember who you were and where you came from.
The small hairs that line the tips of your ears felt prickly, a spread of encased heat rubbed against your diaphragm. Uncomfortable, but you’ve come to recognize it as an alarm your body has been programmed to. Before a sound even broke the barrier, you were turning to your right. Fallen leaves from the nearby trees finally cried out as they were crunched under severe body weight as the intruder came forward. They were not threatening, you released some tension in your shoulders at the familiar gait. He walked with such quiet grace and aptitude, there was always a flicker of jealousy in your stomach at the thought that you’d never be quite the same. But within his stride…
Your eyes softened as he neared, the scent of his wet fur encapsulating your nostrils and it began to outweigh the scent of the lingering ashes. Green and gold irises as dark and deep as the wet bark of the tree you were against yet as light as the melody of the Autumn coated trees nearby finally met your curious gaze, without reserve or hesitation. You redacted your previously started thought and replaced it with a better formed introspective. Within Caesar himself was the tightening hold of leadership thrust upon him but it was married affectionately with deliberate gentleness that was reserved for special occasions.
It never flitted across your mind that this would be one of those occasions, caught almost red-handed as if you were a child who ran away from home but the way he came around, such reverence in his stride, each placement of his footing intentional and bare, said otherwise. He was being purposefully quiet, something you decided to break as a few more stray leaves fell from what seemed like the Heavens themselves.
“I didn't know I asked you to follow me.” There was banter in your statement but underlining that was a solemn interlude that carried into the already whispering hush of the forest.
Caesar was intuitive enough to recognize the twinge of sarcasm seeping in your tone as well. He huffed in response, a small plume of cold air evident in front of his muzzle at the action and if you looked closely enough, you could see the rustling of the greying fur around his face. You watched his exhale disperse with a slight smile, turning back to the clearing of maple and oak trees, knowing that if there was no discipline, you would have looked at him in wonderment all day, hours on end without recourse. That was the sort of domineering trance that the Ape King put you in, but the way he glanced back, there was no doubt that it was a returned sentiment.
“Never have to ask.” Was your baritone response, equally lined with the emotion you threw at him first.
It was your turn to huff, though it came out more as a chuckle as you nodded in contentment as Caesar craned his body to your level. For a split second, with the shift in his broad body to squat beside you, holding his weight rather skillfully in a hunched posture, his face was only a few inches from yours before it returned to a more suitable distance. About two feet, you figured as you tilted your head and peered into the distance. The jostling from that action caused some of the condensation on your hair to thicken into water droplets that now held desperately to their last hopes of staying on your head.
“Winter’s almost here.”
There was some sort of absent-mindedness to your words as if on autopilot and you were talking to a stranger in line at the grocery store about mundane life. Something that hasn’t happened in a long time but it was now a memory that faded in and out of clarity when it saw fit. All of your memories were like that. Crisp and lively like some leaves, soggy and tasteless like others. It depended on how you looked at them. There was more to say, more you wanted to lament but your chapped lips came to a close while Caesar’s stare followed your own. Through the thickets of the forest was the rising sun and soon the fog that was blanketing around would disappear and the light would lay its claim, yet the cold still persisted. “It’s sad to see the Summer go. I wish it lasted a little longer.”
The double meaning in your phrase didn't go unnoticed and you were consciously aware of that. Caesar, of the many things that could describe him, was remarkably smart and had spent enough time around other Humans to understand that. The Ape knew what you meant from the envious recesses of your mind and it caused a lapsed silence to fall between the two of you.
There was some sickening idea that he was now thinking the same thing you were - about your lives before and it was distasteful to know that you were right. Caesar had many ideals about his life before, but the windowpane that became the symbol of the Apes’ freedom always came back. The endless days of Autumn where he would sit in his room, watching the shift in the leaves. Watching them fall off one by one onto the ground. Watching the wind pick them up and carry them away, sometimes in troves like little families. There was a time that he truly wanted to escape like that, and now that he had, remnants of the past still managed to haunt.
The passage of time was a finicky matter and Caesar never conceptualized how much he’d miss keeping track of it. How things were marked in true years back then and weren’t labeled by things such as the leaves falling, the first snow, the flowers blossoming or the sweltering heat- though his instincts told him the aforementioned was the true way to go. A year never fit into a box. And yet… The worst one was the inevitable reminder that… Other Humans hadn’t been spotted in years. It was coming, as it always did near this time. Another leaf falling from the sky to decompose into the Earth, falling and falling… Until they were all gone, rotted away into nothingness. There would be traces here and there but nothing like they were.
Lifting your hand up, you offered the leaf that was still lingering in your grasp to Caesar with a jilted grin. Maybe he could forget this whole thing with the offering and you could just go back to silence and enjoy the sun rising---
“All things must change.” Caesar took the leaf from you, your heart beating rapidly in your chest at the feeling of his fingertips grazing yours. There was a second you wanted to protest to tell him to be careful with it, but you watched in bated tranquility instead as his thick fingers flipped the leaf to show the undercarriage that still remained slightly green. It appeared so soft against his more calloused skin and a deep urge to compare the two surfaces rose.
Nodding, you swallowed back the little lump that developed in your throat so you didn't croak in response and brought your hands to your lap, intertwining your fingers in a meager attempt to keep them warm now that they weren’t holding anything. In a subdued way, you gave your reply. “I wish they didn't have to change that much.”
He was building the cadence of his words, putting true thought into how he was going to come across. With other Apes, it was mind over matter but with you…the challenge did present itself. Drawing a breath in, the hackles along Caesar’s shoulders rose in contemplation. “Forest… changes… Let’s go of the past…” Symbolically, the leaf that he had taken from you was released and you watched as it tumbled to the ground next to your feet. It was slow and deafening, looking now out of place beside your worn out boots. One move and you could crush it under your---
“In order to survive. We must… do the same.”
“Doesn’t it scare you?” That was a quick draw inquiry, you were well aware and from the way that Caesar’s eyes widened out of the corner of your peripheral, it caught him off guard. He was good at answering questions straight on, he was getting better at answering philosophically. This war that they did not start, this war that your people sought after, but never did blame fly your way from Caesar’s lips, caused lost sleep. Caused days upon days not being in the comforts of a true home, and so many of them lost to the passage of time and changing fare… Sighing, he looked off into the distance again. The sun was now cresting over the horizon and was painting the forest in golden rays. There was a lack of heat associated with it, but it felt nice to have some clarity of what was out there between the trees.
“Yes, but…” The connection to raw honesty that he possessed was admirable. No point in sugar coating things in a war torn state. But still, Caesar found ways to soften the blow as he always did with touchy subjects. At least with you, and it warmed something that spread along your ribcage, up your spine and into the back of your head and the notion that Caesar truly reserved things only for you. “Things… must change now so they… Can grow again. Better. Stronger.”
“What if it can’t?” There was that feeling of falling again. Your hand outreached, looking for something to hold onto. Something to bring sanity. You found yourself grasping at another leaf, this one more red than the previous. You studied it for a few seconds, admiring the way that the color seeped into the almost faux leather texture in the center where it was still alive, but slowly dying. “What if… Things can’t grow here anymore?”
“They can… They will.” Raising his hand, Caesar lightly cupped your own and urged nimbly, his voice barely a touch above a whisper as he leaned towards you. You thought for a split second that he would press his forehead to yours, but instead, you felt his hand opening yours to release the leaf you had sought after and it danced its way to the ground to lay beside its friend. “First, you must… Let go.”
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A/N: UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH DID I JUST MAKE MY COMEBACK? Sorry if it's a bit meh, I'm rusty. Also?? me using this to cope? Yeah. HAHAH. Likes and reblogs always appreciated, thanks for reading. :)
And when they’re unconscious, their dead weight is near impossible for a single woman to lift onto a horse. That is after I dragged him through the rubble and halfway down the tunnels.
But I couldn’t ask for help because then I would be outing myself as the damn idiot who was saving the bonobo Caesar had just publicly murdered not only as revenge, but to claim his status as leader of the clan once more.
If anyone knew I was doing this, I would be killed on the spot. This was beyond treason.
Tying off his wound as best I could, I’d hurried back through the rubble and onto the streets to find Oero, leading him as far into the tunnels as I could. With nightfall and a clan of mourning apes tired and in need of medical attention, no one was around to see me as they’d moved to a nearby building to begin healing those they could.
I knew Caesar would come looking for me soon enough, he and Luca both out of their minds with worry when I wasn’t back within an hour so I needed to move fast.
If anyone knew he was alive, he would be just as dead as I was going to be. At least, I assumed that would be it. Caesar had killed him once before, but that was when Koba was actively trying to murder him in turn. If he saw Koba like this, weak and dying, could they sit down and talk it out? Would Caesar let me save him?
Not eager to put our fates in some distant hope, I moved as fast as I could without causing more damage. Pain I did not care about and actively ignored his grunts. He still deserved some punishment for what he’d done to me, what he’d put me through. All the pain he had caused.
Dragging his unconscious ass to Oreo had been one thing. Getting him onto the horse was another. And just as I was ready to give up, he’d woken enough to help me by using his good arm to pull a fraction of his own weight up so I could get beneath him and haul him up high enough to settle his legs on either side of Oero’s back.
Guiding the horse away from the city center, I took a page out of Caesar’s book and headed for the homes. Somewhere no one would go looking for an injured ape. I could not go back to my own home because the humans were still there with Rocket and his family, so I headed further up the hill, toward Haight Street.
Kicking in the door of a random home, I found a sofa to put him down and almost died dragging him up the porch stairs and into the house, sitting beside him and panting heavily for a good five minutes after while my arms shook.
I needed to get medical supplies, but everything was at the human colony and I was covered in his blood. I could not go to Ellie because Rocket was there and he would not give me a chance to explain.
But Koba was going to die unless I did something.
All these houses had been ransacked, the hospital burned down. Besides, he had broken bones, internal injuries I could not see or mend.
God this had been a stupid idea. Stupid and pointless. I let my empathy overrule reason and now all I’d done is exhaust myself. He’d die soon anyway. I should have just left him to his fate.
Standing, I was entirely ready to do that, but then I turned back one final time and found his drooping eyes watching me, accepting that he was going to die alone and I broke all over again.
“Fuck!” Grabbing a dusty throw blanket from the floor, I gave it a good shake before laying it over him. I’d need to build a fire, both for heat light, but there was no fireplace here. The last thing I needed was to start a fire that consumed the city.
“I’m going to find some supplies.” I told him, stopping myself as I went to rest a hand upon his brow. “I’ll be back. Just don’t die.”
With the moon as my guide and adrenaline to keep me going, I rummaged through the house. Every draw, every cupboard, every closet. I almost cried when I found the old cookie tin used to hold a sewing kit. Thank God for grandmas. It was a small victory, but it was a start.
Setting the tin down beside what I prayed to be a sleeping Koba, I ran through the streets looking for anything to contain a fire, an old oil drum practically a gift from the Gods.
Rolling it back to the house, I hauled it inside and began manically smashing chairs and the coffee table, throwing the wood into the barrel and tossing in handfuls of fall leaves as kindling.
A roaring fire was step one. Now, step two. And I prayed he stayed asleep for it.
---
It took thirty-four stitches to close the gash at his side. Another five for a cut at the back of his head. And three torn down and ripped apart lace curtains to make enough bandage to wrap around his torso.
His lungs didn’t seem to be filling with blood, I couldn’t hear a rattle as I placed my ear against his chest, so I took that to mean he didn’t have a punctured lung. But he did have some tenderness there so probably a couple broken ribs at least.
His right wrist was broken, all swollen and unnaturally angled. He’d winced as I’d splinted it but didn’t do much more. He hadn’t flinched at all as I’d stitched him. His legs seemed alright, nothing abnormal, and his stomach wasn’t tender when I tried to press around his abdomen. If he’d had lighter colored skin I’d have been able to check for bruising to indicate internal bleeding, but with all his fur it was near impossible.
I briefly entertained the idea of shaving him to try see what was going on but decided he needed the body heat more. Or maybe I subconsciously was granting him a death with some dignity.
I needed to find antibiotics. Honey and ginger paste weren’t going to cut it this time. Or maybe alcohol to disinfect the wounds. This house did not have any and I wasn’t sure leaving to search another was a good call.
I knew there was more wrong with him, more hurt, but I didn’t know how to tell, how to check. How to help. I didn’t know how to make him better.
And as the sun rose and I got a good, clear look at him, I saw how badly hurt he was. His face, stained with blood and permanently in a pained scowl even as he slept.
He wasn’t a monster. He was Koba. Not my friend, not my enemy. Someone who understood me, who knew me in ways words would never tell. He knew me better than Caesar, not because we found words to relate to one another or actions to guide our interactions, but because we carried the scars of humans. Because we suffered the nightmares of humans. Because we were willing to fight for a world without humans.
I shivered, not cold as I wrapped my arms around myself and watched him, silent tears rolling down my cheeks.
I saw his pain now, and my chest ached from the pain he’d caused me, but I also saw a baby who didn’t understand anything of the world around him. A baby who was hurt and scared and alone in suffering as those around him laughed.
He could have been Caesar if the world been less cruel to him. He could have been my friend, that bright, happy ape I saw in the window. He could have been someone’s son, someone’s family. He could have been my family.
Why had the world chosen to give him this fate? What did he do to deserve such hate from humans? Why would I see him now, in my dreams, and know I couldn’t help him. That I didn’t save him.
He probably wouldn’t survive this. I’d given him a day, maybe two. But you don’t overcome something like this. Not unless you’re a stubborn son of a bitch not even the devil wants back.
And I knew that’s what he was. He had to be. He had to, because I still needed him. I needed someone who understood me.
Someone who would laugh as the humans who thought they could come to our home and cut us down burned. And together we would rejoice in their screams.
I needed his monster to come play with mine.
Moving to his side, I once again knelt down low so I knew he heard me. “Okay, listen asshole. I know you are hurt, and tired. But you’re a tough bastard so you can’t die. You won’t die. You understand me?”
His eyes stayed closed, his chest barely rising and falling at all. He made no indication he’d heard me, even his eyes still behind his eyelids.
“Damnit, do you hear me?”
His eyes snapped open, his head rolling to the side so his eyes could lock on mine. I thought he’d simply glance past me, blink maybe, and go back to sleep. Instead, a green eye locked on me and a fire shone there. Not a reflection from the flames behind me, from within him. He wasn’t going down without another fight.
also forgot to mention in the last post that I used a base for these, I used those Korean meme doodle things and just drew over them bc I thought I was funny but now I’m too deep haha anyway if anyone wants the original bases lmk
Summary: Your first day outside of the bunker you grew up in turns your world upside down.
Warnings: Indoctrination, blood.
Word Count: 1525
A/N: I love entering dead fandoms, actually...😔✌️
Growing up within the thick, concrete walls of your bunker, you were taught apes are rash, dangerous creatures, with a mind only for violence. That they tear frail human flesh and bones apart for their own entertainment, leaving what’s left of you to rot on the soil.
Generation after generation, children listened and believed the words of their instructors, including you. Every lesson painted the same picture: massive silhouettes emerging from the shadows of the forest, ripping apart unfortunate wanderers with terrible ease.
As a child, you were terrified, waking up crying after nightmares of enormous hands reaching into your room. You'd cling to your blankets whenever the emergency drills simulated breaches, convinced furry monsters lurked just outside the thick doors.
You had promised yourself you would never set foot outside. But time passed, you grew up, things changed. It has been give or take 300 years since the fall of the old world, since what was left of intelligent humanity surrendered their life on the surface.
Perhaps, it’s time for a change of view?
The elders continue to teach the same lessons, but the monsters in your imagination slowly turned into question marks. The archives were of little help. Access is restricted, which only added to your growing curiosity. So naturally, you figured out system bypasses, stole keycards, and sneaked into the restricted areas as much as you could get away with.
Piece by piece, a different story emerged. There were fragmented photographs, videos too damaged to fully play. It became clear the old world had not simply fallen overnight. Apes had once been... simple creatures. Animals, as much as you are anyway.
Then a serum, or virus, as sources differ; It cut down the human population by ninety percent, while the other primates seem unaffected, aside from an increased intelligence and the ability to speak.
You never spoke of your discoveries. Curiosity, after all, borders on heresy. So you buried it, your research, your curiosity, all of it. Or, tried to, at least until the announcement of another surface excursion, the first in your lifetime.
Supplies dwindle, they say, they are in dire need more outside resources. The quiet room immediately filled with worried whispers as volunteers were requested. Your mind spins. Outside. Actually outside. You could see the world with your own eyes instead of through an old computer screen...
For several long seconds you stared at the registration sheet lying on the table, the butterflies in your stomach making you feel physically ill. But curiosity won, and your hand moved before your fear could stop it, and with shaking hands, you signed your name.
The bunker doors open with a heavy groan. Fresh air floods in and it smells… alive. There’s a bright light, and your eyes need a second to adjust, but then… You’ve been sent to work in the greenhouse plenty of times; you’ve seen plants, shrubs, trees even. But not like this. No artificial recreation could ever replicate this.
You step beyond the threshold. The sky stretches endlessly overhead, impossibly blue, the occasional cloud drifting overhead. Sunlight kisses your face with genuine warmth, not the fluorescent imitation of overhead lamps. Wind tickles your skin, carrying scents impossible to separate.
Leaves whisper high above. Branches swaying together in a slow dance. Somewhere unseen, birds sing beautiful melodies. For a moment, you simply stand there, overwhelmed. For the first time in your life... you understand why people once lived here.
Your assignment is simple: Observe and record. You dutifully scribble notes between stolen, wistful glances at the world around you. It’s different from what you saw in the bunker, wilder. Massive ferns unfurl like feathers, vines wrap around ancient trees thicker than the hallways you used to walk, flowers blooming from cracks in fallen stone.
The old world hadn't completely vanished, it had returned to the wild. You wanted to keep walking out here forever. Your senses yearn to experience everything this world has to offer. To see everything. To understand everything.
Then someone screamed, the sudden noise shattering the peaceful chorus of birds, followed closely by a second scream. "RUN!" The word echoes through the trees. Branches snap overhead as dozens of figures drop from impossible heights as horses gallop through your company.
Apes.
They are everywhere, swinging effortlessly through the canopy, leaping between branches with terrifying speed. Others charge across the forest floor on horseback. Their shouts and commands fill the woods. They don armor pieced together from rusty metal, armored with spears that spark with electricity.
Everything you learned, from your teachers or by your own choice, nothing could have prepared you for this. Your group scatters, many vanishing beneath charging figures with bone-chilling cries of fear and pain.
Your body finally remembers its ability to move. Your legs stumble into a running pace, notebook long forgotten. Your lungs burn, thorns claw at your boots and branches whip across your face, but you don’t stop, you can’t.
Something catches your arm. Pain explodes as you cry out. You are bleeding, heavily. There’s a long gash across your upper arm and shoulder, instantly soaking your sleeve crimson. Warm blood trickles down your fingertips. You stumble, but keep running as the sounds behind you grow louder.
You throw yourself behind the tangled roots of an enormous tree just before several apes rush past. You press both hands over your mouth. Holding your breath, you press yourself closer to the ground, the smell of petrichor invading your senses.
One ape stops in front of your hiding spot. You squeeze your eyes shut. Please, please, please... After what feels like an eternity, the footsteps continue, their voices fade, and you are left alone with the forest.
Slowly, you lower your shaking hands. You stay on the ground, your arm throbbing as blood drips steadily onto damp leaves. You can’t stay hidden forever. So, with trembling limbs, you crawl from beneath the roots, and freeze.
Someone stood only a few paces away. No. Not someone, an ape. An orangutan, to be precise. Unlike your armored attackers, he wore a simple shawl. A satchel rests against his side, and around his neck hangs a necklace with a metal symbol.
His eyes meet yours. He makes a curious cooing sound deep in his throat, his head tilted slightly to the side. Your heart nearly stops. Your mouth opens, but refuses to let out any sound. Your voice has abandoned you.
You scramble backward, panic seizing every muscle in your body. Damp leaves sticking to your palms as your injured arm screamed in protest. The orangutan immediately lets out worried chuffs and raises both hands, palms facing you. Not advancing or threatening, simply... Showing they are empty.
His voice is slow and calm as he starts speaking. "Don’t be afraid." Every instinct inside of you screams that this was a trick. You stare. He knows human speech. Perfectly. "I am Raka." He motions to himself. Raka slowly gestures toward the blood running down your arm. "You are hurt."
He waits several long moments before moving again, slowly. One hand carefully reaches toward the pouch at his side. Your muscles tense up. He pauses immediately. "I only want to help."
From the pouch he removes a small container. Still trembling, you can’t move. Raka kneels several feet away first, giving you every opportunity to flee. Only after another long pause does he inch closer.
He looks at you one last time, silently asking permission. You can’t answer, but you also don’t pull away. Gentle fingers spread the cool paste across your wound. You flinch despite yourself. It stings briefly before soothing the fiery pain. The salve smells strongly of crushed herbs; earthy and sharp.
You watch suspiciously as Raka works carefully, smearing the soothing salve on the gash before layering broad medicinal leaves over it. Not once did he cause unnecessary pain or did he force you.
When finished, he leans back again, giving you space. You stare at the neat bandage, then at him. Nothing about this makes sense. The monster from every childhood nightmare has just treated your injury more gently than any of the bunker medics had.
Raka quietly begins gathering fallen branches and twigs. He hums to himself while arranging a small fire. You watch as he makes camp, refusing to let your eyes wander. He keeps mumbling to himself, or you rather, though you can’t find it in yourself to react.
Exhaustion settles over you like a heavy blanket. You fight it, listening to Raka as he speaks softly about someone called Caesar, whose name carries unmistakable reverence. Your eyelids droop anyway, vision blurring around the edges.
"I will keep watch." Raka says quietly, noticing your exhaustion. "So you may sleep." You want to argue, to stay awake and keep watching the ape in front of you. Instead, the warmth of the fire, the ache in your body, and the overwhelming weight of the day finally claims you.
The last thing you see before darkness takes you is Raka sitting peacefully beneath the trees, hands folded in his lap, keeping silent watch as your subconscious drifts off into a dreamless sleep.
