An anon posted this story on /rgre/ thread
Thread archive: part 1:https://boards.4channel.org/mlp/thread/37268067#p37282579
                         part 2:https://boards.4channel.org/mlp/thread/37287416#p37287487
Original author is Anon
Related picture:https://s2.desu-usergeneratedcontent.xyz/mlp/image/1626/82/1626823103872.png
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part 1
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>love-honey
>It's a bee-ling

>You've been wandering in this stupid forest for days.
>You're tired, hungry, and just a little scared of the whack-ass abominations that have been wandering in the woods.
>When a thing that looks like a cross between a bee and a pony buzzes down to you, you barely hold back a scream.
>It inspects you from afar with it's big eyes and strangely expressive face, then it trots closer.
>You freeze when it trots a circle-no, she trots a circle around you. That's *probably* a pussy under her tail/menacingly big stinger.
>Oh God what the fuck please just go away...
>The bee-thing's wings buzz and lift her into the air, bringing her closer. If you had to name her expression, then you'd call the look 'analytical'. She scans your petrified face closely, then pokes you in the cheek with her oddly soft muzzle.
>Then with zero warning, she kisses you long and deep.
>You're so shocked they you don't fight the muscular tongue poking into your mouth. Your unintentional make-out partner's throat bulges, then something disgustingly viscous and sticky flows out of her mouth into yours.
>You almost spit it out, almost. The sheer sweetness of the goop stops you. Without even meaning to, you swallow the mouthful.
>Your growling stomachs settles as the sweet morsel hits bottom, warming your core and filling you with a burst of energy.
>The bee-thing's kiss holds for two more mouthfuls is that you swallow, and when she pulls away, there's a thin golden strand is still connecting your lips to hers.
"Is this... honey?"
>You wonder aloud.
>Bee-thing tilts her head in confusion at the sound of your voice. She opens her mouth, and what comes out is unmistakably the words from a language you've never heard.
"Uh..."
>She invades your personal space again, her short snoot sniffing at you intently.
>Fear fading and unsure what to do, you raise a hand and press a gentle finger to her nose, pushing her away slightly.
>Oh wow, she's soft...
>Her eyes cross to look at the finger, and she doesn't stop you when your hand moves to stroke her furry cheek.
>You don't notice the whisps of pink energy flowing out of your hand and into her, but she does with wide eyes.
>Without warning, she darts in and kisses you again, this time not true to force your mouth open.
>Without the shock of the sudden first time, it's... nice. Her lips are soft, taste like that sweet honey, and the distinctly pleased noise coming from her eases your frayed nerves somewhat. Once more, you don't notice the pink energy flowing from you to her, now a much larger surge. You're almost disappointed when she pulls away
>Gah. Get a hold of yourself, Anon. You're not *that* lonely.
>Bee-thing hovers back down to the grond and gently takes the hem of your shirt in her sharp teeth, tugging as if urging you to follow.
>Hoping beyond hope that your new acquaintance keeps her nice attitude, you slowly follow behind her.
1/1

>Anon is beyond mystified with his bee friend.
>Over the weeks they've spent together, he's made a number of observations about her that break countless rules of reality as he knows it.
>Never has he seen her eat anything. Drink water, sure, but never eat. He doesn't count her chewing wood into pulp to make the nest they both now live in
>All she seems to need is affection. That's it. A hug, a kiss, a cuddle, and rolling wisps of bright pink energy would be sucked out of him and into her.
>What was she taking, exactly? He doesn't feel tired or ill afterwards. He's not losing weight. What is sustaining her?
>Then the honey.
>His own feeble attempts at hunting sometimes netted him small game like the squirrels and rabbits, and if you was lucky he could find wild herbs and vegetables to season his meal.
>If not for Bee, he'd probably have starved by now. Deep in her gullet, she can make a seemingly unlimited amount of sweet, honey-like goop that she feeds him.
>Part of him is disgusted at the thought of being fed mouth-to-mouth like that, but the sugary, flavorful taste and the alternative of starving silences any protest.
>Anything he didn't eat, Bee would store in cubby holes in the wall of their cave-nest, sealed with a cap of wax.
>The sheer about that Bee can disgorge violates physics, as he's watched her store away her entire body weight in honey before. Anon has no idea where it all comes from.
>Anon isn't even going to try and analyze Bee's telekinesis. The horn on her head can glow a brilliant gold color, then objects before her will move their own accord. Using this fantastical power, she dug out an entire cave for their nest, moving dozens of tons of rock. Every so often, she'd in conjure a glowing gemstone from seemingly nothing and plant them into the walls, lighting up the tunnels and various chambers.
>While the nest was being dug out, Bee did take frequent breaks that involved contact with him, and once more she sucked the mysterious pink energy from him. Is that how she's sustaining herself?
>Outside of her powers, Bee is such a fascinating creature.
>Such a strange mix of insect and mammal. Her body-plan and general features much like an equine, with with cues taken from other animals. Her coloration is similar to a bee, and her wings and stinger-tipped tail reinforce the look. When they first met, her wings and striped legs were filled with wounds, some being perfect holes through the limbs, but she seems to have healed since then.
>Her jaws are powerful enough to chew entire tree limbs into the waxy pulp bees use to make nests, and indeed she's done that with their nest. The natural paper-mache is soft but tough, acting as a perfect insulator for the drafty cave.
>Her stinger is smooth, barbless, and looks large enough to gut a man. One can only imagine how agonizing a death a sting from her would be.
1/2

>Her outside is covered in lusciously soft fur, including a fragrant tuft on her chest. Considering Bee insists on cuddling at night, the delightful fur is welcome.
>And it looks like bees are not her only insect trait, as she's got a set of tiny spinnerets on the underside of her tail. Using these, she's adhered doors to the various nest chamber entrances and spun a soft bed for you and her in the rearmost chamber.
>Communication with her? Anon shakes his head. That's slow going.
>Bee can make a breathtaking range of sounds, and even mimic English perfectly, but it's clear she's much more comfortable in her native language. Her expressive face is rather adorable as she concentrates on the lessons that Anon tries to teach. They have important things, like Water, Food, Danger, Hello, Goodbye, Anonymous, Bee, and the like down, but poor Bee doesn't it seem to have any special talent for learning languages.
>But in this strange world, she's the only sapient thing he's found and the only one to care enough to save him, so he'll always be patient for her.
>Recently, Bee completed the nest. It's much larger than just two residents need and has a great number of chambers at different depths.
>And lordy, Anon feels his face burn as he realizes why.
>In their bedroom, Bee lays on her side, a hindleg hiked up as she stares at him with frustration.
>Out on full display, a puffy vagina glistening with natural lube winks it's clit at him.
>"Anon..." Bee huffs, her voice just as frustrated as her blushing face. "Need you."
>She stands and flicks her tail to the side, lowering her front and raising her rear, swaying it temptingly. "You are @&$#, I am @-#&#+. We make @&#$. Fill home."
>Some of her words are in her native tongue, but Anon can sense the importance in them.
>Lord have mercy upon him... He can only hope Bee doesn't give him the mantis treatment and eat him afterwards.
>Bee's eyes literally light up in excitement as Anon stands, letting his tattered pants fall.
>Thus, Anon became a bee-ling King.
2/2


>Something incredible has happened, and considering Bee’s record of disregarding common limits of nature, Anon isn’t terribly surprised.
>Bee is pregnant. It's dizzying to think about.
>The weeks have progressed, and Anon is sure he’s been in this strange alien world for months now, as the warm weather has begun to cool and the leave have dulled into oranges and reds. The relationship between Bee and himself has deepened, and he’s sure her kind has a concept of love from the sheer affection she’s shown him since the first time they made love.
>Her English has progressed as well. Their conversations are short and halting, but they exist. With a beaming smile, Bee told him she was expecting.
>Over the next three weeks, her middle plumped up and she became increasingly lethargic. Anon, not knowing what else to do, kept close and made sure her energy reserves were always topped off.
>His alien lover seemed terribly amused by his concern, but never rejected him.
>Finally, the day arrived.
>Bee rose from a cuddly nap, a strange shine in her eye. She turned to a confused Anon, smiled, and said; “It’s time.”
>He scrambled out from under the silk blanket to follow her.
>Which leads to now.
>With Bee at his side and just a step ahead, Anon follows her down a set of steps just off from their bedroom. He’s been down here once, but Bee just shooed him away as she was still digging it out.
As they descend the final steps and come into the new chamber, Anon blinks and looks around. “Bee? What is all this?”
>The chamber isn’t terribly large, with the ceiling only being a few inches away from the human’s head. Along the walls in a honey-comb pattern are little hexagonal holes, each one built from wood pulp and impregnated with beeswax, making a sturdy structure. In the middle, a little bowl of golden silk like their bed lays.
>Bee, taking slow, swaying steps towards the silk bowl, turns and smiles at him. “This room is…” she pauses, trying to find the word she wants. “This room is young raising room.” She points a hoof at the honeycombs. “Eggs go in, hatch there.”
>Bee… lays eggs? He thought that she was a mammal.
>She settles in a squat over the silk bowl in the center of the room, then gives Anon a look that is hard to place. Embarrassment maybe? “Anon?” She begins unsurely. “Should not ask of you, but am mother for first time. Stay with me and help?”
The human can't help but smile. “Of course. You couldn’t keep me away if you tried.”
>The curious chimera returns his smile. “I love you.”
>Just those simple words melt the man’s heart.
>Bee takes a deep breath and relaxes, and through her middle, Anon can see muscles contracting.
1/3

>Slowly, the first egg emerges. It’s perfectly round, snow-white, and about the size of his fist. From Bee, it plops down into the silk nest quietly. It’s difficult for Anon to overstate his awe even if its so simple.
>He fathered that egg. An egg that will hatch into… into…
>Will it be another bee chimera like Bee?
>The first several eggs come easily, ten more joining their first sibling. As Bee’s stomach slims, the egg become more infrequent. The next five take a full minute each, and then the laying slows to a crawl.
>As he waits, Anon looks around the room, taking in the tiny details.
>The natural paper-mache isn’t layed out randomly as actual bees might, but rather Bee took the time to add a layer of artistic expression to it. The mache is laid out in spiralling patterns that capture the eye, looking almost like damascus steel that traded its colors out and was swirled upon itself. In the ceiling, the gem-like light made of clear chitin and filled with bioluminescent chemicals is carefully cut into a symmetrical pattern. The light it casts is soft and soothing, perfect for a nursery. Then he looks down at the golden silk nest. Bee’s silk is white, so she must have deliberately dyed it here.
>Bee clearly understands complex concepts like love and art. Anon has to wonder if there are other creatures like her out there. Is there maybe a civilization somewhere?
>Turning back to Bee, the man grimaces.
>She’s straining and pushing, yet the remaining eggs won’t come out.
Anon, feeling helpless yet again, reaches under Bee and gently rubs her belly, making the tense muscles relax. “Just take it easy, Bee. I’m here for you.”
>She lets out an amused huff and pecks him on the cheek, tickling him with her soft, furry muzzle.
>Slowly, four more eggs are laid for a grand total of twenty, and Bee rises on shaky legs with a tired sigh. Once more, her belly is flat. Already knowing what she needs, Anon leans down and locks lips with her.
>Bee groans appreciatively into his mouth as pink energy is pulled from Anon into her, easing her shakes. She reluctantly pulls away after a minute, confusing the man. “Save some for eggs,” she explains, looking down at the nest. “Give love, put in @&#^$, then I finish.”
>Gingerly, as if expecting it to crumble, Anon lifts one egg in his hand, the feeling of awe returning. He can almost feel the pulse of life inside the soft little thing.
>Without even meaning to, shining bands of pink rush from his hands into the egg, and after a second, the flow tapers off, leaving him holding a glowing pink egg.
2/3

>”Ohhh…” Bee’s eyes are wide in delight. “So much… Youngling will be strong.” Her wings buzz and lift her up, letting her pull Anon into a tight hug. “I love you, Anon,” she mumbles into his neck.
>The man’s chest swells with emotion.
>He places the love-charged egg into one of the honeycombs, then moves aside as Bee buzzes in rear first. With the spinnerets under her tail, she spins a cap on the honeycomb, then turns and coats the silk with a layer of wax from her mouth, leaving just a few holes for air-flow.
>They repeat the process nineteen more times. Anon charges each egg until it’ll accept no more love and places it in a honeycomb, then Bee caps it.
>Almost two hours after they entered the nursery, the man and chimera return back to their bedroom, exhausted.
>Anon falls into the silk bed and Bee follows suit, crawling into his arms.
“Bee?”
>Her ears flick. “Hmm?”
“Do you think I’ll be a good father?”
>Bee blinks, then her expression becomes tender. She leans in and presses her lips to Anon’s in a chaste kiss.
>The answer is better than any words could be.
3/3

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Part 2
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>Some weeks pass, and one by one, each egg hatches.
>Anon knows this because of the alien, telepathic pull now in the back of his brain, leading back to each of the little larvae in their snug honeycombs.
>A hivemind. A hivemind that he’s part of.
>Lord above it startled him at first, feeling a gnawing hunger not his own one day. Bee felt it too, because she jumped and turned back to the nest while they were out for a walk in the forest, dropping the flowers she gathered to show Anon the process of making dye.
>Anon’s chimera mate ushered him down to the nursery, and he knew exactly what she wanted.
>He placed a hand on the cap of the honeycomb and pushed not with his body, but his emotions.
>Pink bands of love diffused through the wax and silk cap easily, feeding the wriggling little larvae inside. The feeling of hunger left, and a primal feeling of love, the sort a child views a parent with, flowed back to Anon, nearly bringing tears to his eyes.
>Now once a day, he goes down and feeds his children, glowing with pride as he feels them grow. If Bee is accurate, then they'll pupate and emerge as young chimeras just as spring begins.
>And with the hivemind, Anon finally understands why Bee finds the idea of personal names silly. There’s no need when telepathy is easier and more accurate than spoken names. At just a few weeks old, his children are unique enough that he can tell them all apart easily.
>As winter began to set in, Bee once more proves the sheer adaptability of her wild body. She’s fattened up and her fur has grown into a winter coat. She also seems to be growing up as well as out. Before, she stood as high as Anon’s belt, and now she’s eye level with his naval.
>She wasn’t a juvenile, was she? Anon shakes away his own hangups. She consented to their relationship and safely laid twenty eggs, so he can’t assume things.
>After months together, Bee also demonstrated her martial abilities. A beast that looked like a manticore from legends wandered close to their nest, probably seeking warm shelter.
>Bee zoomed out and stung the monster in the neck before it could even react.
>It roared and yowled in abject agony, thrashing as the venom in its veins killed it from inside out. In less than a minute, it fell into the snow and went still.
>Anon’s lover gripped the beast’s hide in her telekinesis, then skinned it in a single, nauseating pull. She cut the skin down in her teeth and stitched it into a coat with her silk, then happily presented the gift to a wide-eyed Anon.
>That was certainly one way to ward off the cold…
1/4

>The cold winter was monotonous. There was little to do besides keep one another company. Bee’s english is slowly becoming fluent, and she’s started the process of teaching Anon her tongue. Much of the cold months were spent in study. About halfway through winter, the young larvae, locked in their honeycombs, went dormant to pupate. The sudden silence where there was childish, alien emotion flowing all day was a shock to the young parents.

>Anon tried to go down and feed the children in their cocoons, but they hazily rejected anything he offered.
>That brings them to now, the first melt as winter comes to a close.
>At the entrance of the nest, Anon is busy helping Bee replace the water-logged paper-mache. The ice seeped in and expanded, breaking the pulped wood enough to let more water in, meaning a lot of useless mache that needs replaced before the water can seep in further.
>Anon rips up another wet chunk of mache and tosses it into the bushes, where it lands with a wet “Splat!”. Running a finger along the remainder on the wall of the cave entrance, he smiles and nods when he finds nothing else.
>A dozen yards away, Bee is crunching down on a thick limb of wood, shredding it with ease. She grumbles and trots to Anon, spitting the pulped wood out as a thin film. She tosses her head and twists her neck, giving the wall-lining its distinct swirling pattern.
“That should be the last of it,” Anon nods. “After we’re done, we just have to clean out some of the lower chambers and then we’re done for today.”
>Bee spits the last of the pulp out. “I hope so…” She grumbles.
“Ah, and dear? Chew some mint after you’re done. I don’t like the taste of oak. I’m more of a maple guy.”
>She grins and rolls her eyes, then suddenly stiffens.
“Bee?” Anon blinks. “Are you-”
>Then he feels it.
>One of the larvae- No, not a larva any more. One of the younglings awakens. The hazy, hungry mind of the young daughter reaches out, desperate for comfort.
>Both Anon and Bee sprint inside and rush down to the nursery.
>The skid to a stop and watch as one of the middlemost honeycombs shakes, then a tiny hoof presses against the waxy cap. The cap crumbles, and out comes the most adorable thing Anon has ever had the pleasure of seeing.
>From the honeycomb, a small bee chimera pushes her way out. She blinks her blurry golden eyes, taking in the visage of her parents with a whine. In a gesture as old as time, she reaches her little striped forelegs out at Anon.
>He moves in and gently pulls the little bee from her honeycomb, holding his daughter in his arms and against his chest. He pushes his love from his skin, a shining pink so brilliant that it lights up the room. The little chimera soaks it up like a sponge, her whines quieting and her eyes fluttering shut as her stomach fills. She paws his silk shirt and rests her head over his heart, drifting off to sleep. In her dreams, her ears twitch and her dull stinger tail hangs limp.
2/4

>The whole time, Anon’s face has been stuck in a beaming grin. He looks down to his proud mate, and kneels down so she can see her daughter.
>Bee’s face takes on a rare, tender expression as she runs her tongue along the youngling’s head, cleaning away bits of silk and wax. “She’s beautiful, no?”
>Anon can only nod, not trusting himself to not blubber like a fool.
>Then in the back of his brain, he feels another daughter begin to awaken.
>Bee gently takes the scruff of the sleeping firstborn in her teeth and lifts the youngling, taking her over to the golden silk bed in the center of the nursery to free Anon for the next one. Bee settles with her daughter and gives her a proper tongue-bath, her first in this world.
+_+_+_+_+_+
>Over the next hour, nineteen little beelings are born, fed by their father, cleaned by their mother, and set to bed to rest after the rigors of metamorphosis.
>One remains stubbornly in her cocoon, however.
>From her place in the golden silk bed surrounded by her sleeping children, Bee simply shrugs. “Late bloomer.” She says. “Some of my sisters took another day.”
>Anon thinks nothing else of it. He settles behind her and wraps an arm around Bee’s middle, cuddling the mother of his children close. She smiles and turns her head, catching Anon’s lips in a deep kiss.
+_+_+_+_+_+
>A day passes, and the stubborn cocoon remains dormant.
>Then another day passes.
>And another.
>The younglings are much less needy than infants, but nineteen of them make for a handful to a pair of new parents. Regardless, Anon and Bee keep some focus on the final cocoon.
>Then without warning, the link to the cocoon fades and vanishes.
>It’s so abrupt that Anon nearly jolts into a sitting position, which would have thrown off the little beelings crawling over him.
>Bee must have felt it too, because she sprints down to the nursery with wide, terrified eyes.
“B-Bee?” Anon asks, a cold feeling pooling in his stomach. “What just happened?”
>The nineteen younglings cease their playing, all of them feeling the shift in the air. Their big, gold eyes look between their parents with unease.
>Bee schools her face into something neutral. “Anon, please take the little ones upstairs.”
>He doesn’t argue further. He slowly stands, taking care to set any of the little bees crawling on him to the ground. “C’mon, girls,” He murmurs, sending them a tiny, telepathic urging to follow. It’s difficult to muster up love with the sinking feeling in his gut, but Anon lets a few wisps of pink hover around him, enticing them to follow. “Mama wants us to clear out.”
>Anon picks up a few of the beelings who are too small or too afraid to brave the stairs, and walks up last to ensure none are left behind. Before the nursery vanishes from view, he looks back to see Bee peeling away the waxy cap over the last honeycomb.
>Ushering his daughters over to his and Bee’s bed’s, Anon waits.
3/4

>After several minutes, Bee slowly walks up into the bedroom, her horn glowing with telekinesis. She hides what she’s carrying behind her body, and her neutral expression is so forced it looks as if she’s in pain.
>She strides past and turns to the right out of the room, leading to the entrance.
>In his mind, Anon knows what happened, but his aching heart refuses to accept it.
>Bee returns twenty minutes later, carrying nothing and looking drained. She crawls into the bed, and all the younglings dogpile her.
>She smiles, barely.
Anon slides up to her side and wraps an arm around her. “Bee, my love. What happened?”
>She lets out a long sigh and presses her face to his chest. “I’m sorry, Anon. I’m sorry.”
>Anon gulps and feels his eyes sting with tears.
>Bee shudders. “Nature… Nature takes as much as it gives. I checked her. There was no fault. Not yours, not mine. Sometimes… Sometimes things don't work.”
The man looks over his little chimera offspring. Sixteen have returned to playing with each other, pouncing, cuddling, and nipping. Three of them remain with Bee and himself, nestled against their grieving parents. The sight coats Anon’s mouth with a bittersweet taste. “You didn’t have to shoulder that alone…” He says, already knowing he would have cried. He rests a hand on the head of one of the cuddlebugs still with him and Bee. She’s Eleven, the shyest of the bunch.
>Eleven snuggles into the hand with a coo.
>Bee scoffs, her voice wet. “Humanes may do things differently, but a father should never bury a child.”
>The young parents stay together, taking comfort in each other and their children.
+_+_+_+_+_+
>Outside the nest and under a tall oak tree is a mound of dirt recently turned, and upon that oak tree, an inscription is carved in Equish.

Here, a beautiful daughter rests
Child of man, child of changeling
Returned to Elysium too soon
Beloved, now and forever.
4/4
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