carry home my little soldier

bottlescout:

The Scout raises a brow and kneels.

“Hello there, little one.”

…

*flicks antennae at. It’s a giant… oh gosh, it’s been so long since he talked to a giant…* H-h-hello…

doktorslittlegirl:

*Jesus Christ everyone get out of her way*

*SCRAMBLES SOMEWHERE HE WON’T GET STEPPED ON* DX

engibeeslick:

groundlingtack:

engibeeslick:

groundlingtack:

It feels like leather, almost, soft but tough. As the bee touches them, Tack gives a pleasant little shiver. It doesn’t feel quite as intensely pleasurable as having his antennae stroked, but it’s still quite nice.

Chirring softly, he nuzzles against his Mate even closer, touching his face adoringly, peppering his cheeks with little kisses. 

“Shucks, babe, yer too kind” Slick grins at the wasp’s unspoken little compliments, turning to return them with his own series of kisses.

“haha, it’s a whole lot warmer now, Tack, with you right next t’ me…”

“Yeah, it s-sure is…”

The Groundling’s face is a bit flushed, all this given and received attention certainly doing the trick to warm him up. It was easy to forget he was even cold in the first place- and even easier to forget for the moment absolutely everything that wasn’t here, now, and Slick. He could well have been whole again, unmarked, gossamer wings trembling against the bee’s fingers.

He felt whole when he was with his mate like this.

“…I love you.”

He said it devoid of his usual stammer, with full certainty and conviction.

Slick’s grin only grew at the other bug’s statement, happy to hear the other certain in his statement. He gripped the other a little tighter, touching helmets with the wasp, their antennae entwined with one another. His voice was smooth, and almost humble in response.

“Ah love you too, babe. More than anything in the world. Ah’m damn lucky t’ have you.”

“N-not as lucky as m-me. I… gosh. I want t- to say something but the… it’s too.. BIG. I don’t have w-words for it. Not even by a l-little bit.”

He could weep for joy if he had eyes to do so. As it is his mouth is wibbling a bit, but still, he’s smiling. He tries to get closer, if possible, to touch more, a pleasant buzzing hum rumbling in his throat.

Rubbing the ends of his antennae against the end of Slick’s boppers a bit, the sensation that of pleasurable intimacy, the Groundling cradles the back of his mate’s head in his hand and kisses him, deeply, as a parched desert wanderer drinks from a blessed oasis.

engibeeslick:

groundlingtack:

It feels like leather, almost, soft but tough. As the bee touches them, Tack gives a pleasant little shiver. It doesn’t feel quite as intensely pleasurable as having his antennae stroked, but it’s still quite nice.

Chirring softly, he nuzzles against his Mate even closer, touching his face adoringly, peppering his cheeks with little kisses. 

“Shucks, babe, yer too kind” Slick grins at the wasp’s unspoken little compliments, turning to return them with his own series of kisses.

“haha, it’s a whole lot warmer now, Tack, with you right next t’ me…”

“Yeah, it s-sure is…”

The Groundling’s face is a bit flushed, all this given and received attention certainly doing the trick to warm him up. It was easy to forget he was even cold in the first place- and even easier to forget for the moment absolutely everything that wasn’t here, now, and Slick. He could well have been whole again, unmarked, gossamer wings trembling against the bee’s fingers.

He felt whole when he was with his mate like this.

“…I love you.”

He said it devoid of his usual stammer, with full certainty and conviction.

engibeeslick:

groundlingtack:

engibeeslick:

“Well shucks, babe, Ah’m glad ah make ya brave. But all ah do is bring out that part of ya. Yer still a brave fella.”

With a gentle grin, Slick lay his head against the other bug’s chest.

“Ah’m glad yer here with me now, Tack.”

“M-me too. I c-can’t think of anywhere I’d r-rather be.”

Such a difference from the dark and miserable tunnels. Even if it was chilly in here at night, it was still full of life, and love. All the other bees treated him as one of their own, and Strongfist, knowing all too well the Groundling’s quirks and mannerisms being in the same situation, was as good as a father figure to Tack. It was a good life. Very good.

But above all else, there was Slick. His Slick.

Buzzing softly, he reaches a hand up and strokes his mate’s short brown hair, trailing his fingers along his boppers every so often.

“Good t’ hear, Tack. Good t’ hear.”

Slick buzzes in return as his mate fooled about with the upper details of his being.He smiles gently as he reaches for the straps which hang from the other bug’s helmet himself, grabbing them with a sense of caution, rubbing his thumb and forefinger over it, exploring it’s strange texture.

It feels like leather, almost, soft but tough. As the bee touches them, Tack gives a pleasant little shiver. It doesn’t feel quite as intensely pleasurable as having his antennae stroked, but it’s still quite nice.

Chirring softly, he nuzzles against his Mate even closer, touching his face adoringly, peppering his cheeks with little kisses. 

engibeeslick:

groundlingtack:

engibeeslick:

“Lucky nothin, Tack.” Slick shook his head and spoke gently. “Ah’m the lucky one, you know. Findin a real brave, resilient fella lahke you. You’ve been through so much, but you just keep on going. Ah doubt ah’d even be able to handle half of yer burden, Tack. You may not think it, but yer strong…”

Slick dipped his head inward to bump foreheads with the other bug, smiling again all the while.

“Ah’m the lucky one.”

“Nuh-uh. I-if I’m b-brave, or s-strong, it’s because of y-you. Before I m-met you I was afraid all the t-time, of everyone and everyt-thing. I’m not so s-scared now because you m-make me brave.”

His presence drove the fear away. His love made him feel that he really was worth something, after all.

Giving a soft, happy sigh, the Groundling hunkers further down into the blanket. Maybe it was them, maybe it was their love warming them, but he felt quite toasty and content now.

“Well shucks, babe, Ah’m glad ah make ya brave. But all ah do is bring out that part of ya. Yer still a brave fella.”

With a gentle grin, Slick lay his head against the other bug’s chest.

“Ah’m glad yer here with me now, Tack.”

“M-me too. I c-can’t think of anywhere I’d r-rather be.”

Such a difference from the dark and miserable tunnels. Even if it was chilly in here at night, it was still full of life, and love. All the other bees treated him as one of their own, and Strongfist, knowing all too well the Groundling’s quirks and mannerisms being in the same situation, was as good as a father figure to Tack. It was a good life. Very good.

But above all else, there was Slick. His Slick.

Buzzing softly, he reaches a hand up and strokes his mate’s short brown hair, trailing his fingers along his boppers every so often.

engibeeslick:

groundlingtack:

engibeeslick:

groundlingtack:

engibeeslick:

groundlingtack:

What most people fail to realize about the desert is that, during the winter especially, it gets cold at night. DAMN cold.

This is all well and good if one is a large warm-blooded creature with blankets and hot cocoa and central heating and such. It’s an entire other ball of wax when one is a small insect living in a gutted piece of abandoned machinery.

Rubbing the arms of his tattered old jacket, Tack shivers, his sharp little teeth chattering. If he still had his wings he’d be beating them furiously to raise his body temperature, but being a Groundling he didn’t have that luxury.

Returning from a nearby room of the hive, Slick shook his head. They could get a little bit of heat and insulation in their hive, but with their numbers, and the amount of metal, wire, and materials they had scavenged, it hadn’t been quite enough to to make it anything more that just livable. Comfortable was a heat far from that, needless to say.

He frowned, seeing tack shivering, and made his way over, wrapping his arms about the other and holding him close as if to try and combine the force of their respective body heat, at least, what little their tiny bodies could generate. “Ah’m real sorry, Tack, but this temperature’s the best we kin do right now. My papas say this winter’s colder than th’ last was… Ah tweaked th’ heatin system, but…this is the best ah kin do…” He frowned, holding the other close. “Sorry ah couldn’t make it more comfortable fer ya…”

“Oh… i-i-it’s ok-kay…”

Tack’s usual shy stammer is only made more shaky by the cold- while living with his mate had done wonders for his initially downtrodden, timid attitude, he was still very soft-spoken, especially as Sollys go. Maybe he once had as proud and resounding a yell as any of his winged bretheren, but as of now his voice was as quiet, soft, and especially in Slick’s presence, sweet as anything.

With a soft ‘chirrr’ noise, he huddles himself up close to the smaller bug, wrapping his arms around tight, plucking up a blanket and wrapping it around the both of them.

“B-b-better?”

He gives a small but tender smile, twining his antennae with his mate’s boppers.

Slick gave a gentle smile as the other bug held himself closer to him, closing his eyes with a sigh as his body’s shaking for warmth slowed, and he let out an incredibly soft, buzzing humm as the wingless Solly asked him.

“It’s a whole lot better, Tack…” He let out a short chuckle, smiling as their antennae wrapped about one another. It was cold as all get-out both outside and inside and yet, next to his mate, things were a whole lot warmer.

“G-good. I’m glad.”

One antennae untwines itself, dipping to brush against the bee’s cheek. He felt safe here. Safe, protected, so much so it was almost as if the pain he’d endured before he’d come here never happened at all.

Tack is happy. So precious few Groundlings ever know happiness after being torn from their wings.

“…I’m s-so l-lucky…”

“Lucky nothin, Tack.” Slick shook his head and spoke gently. “Ah’m the lucky one, you know. Findin a real brave, resilient fella lahke you. You’ve been through so much, but you just keep on going. Ah doubt ah’d even be able to handle half of yer burden, Tack. You may not think it, but yer strong…”

Slick dipped his head inward to bump foreheads with the other bug, smiling again all the while.

“Ah’m the lucky one.”

“Nuh-uh. I-if I’m b-brave, or s-strong, it’s because of y-you. Before I m-met you I was afraid all the t-time, of everyone and everyt-thing. I’m not so s-scared now because you m-make me brave.”

His presence drove the fear away. His love made him feel that he really was worth something, after all.

Giving a soft, happy sigh, the Groundling hunkers further down into the blanket. Maybe it was them, maybe it was their love warming them, but he felt quite toasty and content now.

engibeeslick:

groundlingtack:

engibeeslick:

groundlingtack:

What most people fail to realize about the desert is that, during the winter especially, it gets cold at night. DAMN cold.

This is all well and good if one is a large warm-blooded creature with blankets and hot cocoa and central heating and such. It’s an entire other ball of wax when one is a small insect living in a gutted piece of abandoned machinery.

Rubbing the arms of his tattered old jacket, Tack shivers, his sharp little teeth chattering. If he still had his wings he’d be beating them furiously to raise his body temperature, but being a Groundling he didn’t have that luxury.

Returning from a nearby room of the hive, Slick shook his head. They could get a little bit of heat and insulation in their hive, but with their numbers, and the amount of metal, wire, and materials they had scavenged, it hadn’t been quite enough to to make it anything more that just livable. Comfortable was a heat far from that, needless to say.

He frowned, seeing tack shivering, and made his way over, wrapping his arms about the other and holding him close as if to try and combine the force of their respective body heat, at least, what little their tiny bodies could generate. “Ah’m real sorry, Tack, but this temperature’s the best we kin do right now. My papas say this winter’s colder than th’ last was… Ah tweaked th’ heatin system, but…this is the best ah kin do…” He frowned, holding the other close. “Sorry ah couldn’t make it more comfortable fer ya…”

“Oh… i-i-it’s ok-kay…”

Tack’s usual shy stammer is only made more shaky by the cold- while living with his mate had done wonders for his initially downtrodden, timid attitude, he was still very soft-spoken, especially as Sollys go. Maybe he once had as proud and resounding a yell as any of his winged bretheren, but as of now his voice was as quiet, soft, and especially in Slick’s presence, sweet as anything.

With a soft ‘chirrr’ noise, he huddles himself up close to the smaller bug, wrapping his arms around tight, plucking up a blanket and wrapping it around the both of them.

“B-b-better?”

He gives a small but tender smile, twining his antennae with his mate’s boppers.

Slick gave a gentle smile as the other bug held himself closer to him, closing his eyes with a sigh as his body’s shaking for warmth slowed, and he let out an incredibly soft, buzzing humm as the wingless Solly asked him.

“It’s a whole lot better, Tack…” He let out a short chuckle, smiling as their antennae wrapped about one another. It was cold as all get-out both outside and inside and yet, next to his mate, things were a whole lot warmer.

“G-good. I’m glad.”

One antennae untwines itself, dipping to brush against the bee’s cheek. He felt safe here. Safe, protected, so much so it was almost as if the pain he’d endured before he’d come here never happened at all.

Tack is happy. So precious few Groundlings ever know happiness after being torn from their wings.

“…I’m s-so l-lucky…”