The one sentence I would add to the end:

"And in time, when they had children of their own, he would make them learn his pain."

I know! We gotta share this story (at least outside of the people I’ve sent it to lmao)!

Ngl, I bet there is a sub that’s basically /r/bfy, we just don’t know what the name is.

There should be, bees are awesome lil buddies, they deserve all the Fuck Yeahs!

did Homelander write this, when he was young?

[removed]

Heartbreaking right?

That was awesome. Any chance for a part 2?

Genders, not sexes. Bees do not have a concept of "woman" or "man" and therefore it doesn't really matter what names you give them

This is just a 100 times better because my choosen name is Nox.

*swat*

He breathes through his nostril. He's never been a fan of 'nose breathing'. He thinks he would understand the appeal if he himself had a pair of working nostrils. He's doing it so as to not suspect weakness in front of the girl.

She looks at him without a care in the world. She's half his size but twice his weight. She could topple this stick if she needed to. "Turn around!" she shouts. This guy isn't getting away, she's finally caught him and despite her lack of back-up she not going to risk him getting away. Not again.

"Turn around! I won't ask you again." she reaches for her tazer and aims at his torso.

He thinks about taking those prongs out. He could sweep across at the right moment and let momentum swing his arms across the electrical wire.

With one hand on the pistol and the other on tazer, she stiffens her wrist and bringt the weapon to her sights. She know this guy is up to something.

He throws his hands up and turns around. She''s going to have to put her weapons away to arrest him. He can still take her...he hopes.

She tells him to interlock his fingers behinde his head and to slowly drop to his knees.

"I've got bad knees!" he yells out. Lying.

"I don't care. Drop!"

"This is bullshit!"

"On your knees, or on your face!"

"Fuck You!"

"Listen, my dude.." she says condescendingly.

"Your'e going to drop to your knees or you're going to stand there all day until my back-up arrives. But if you move from that spot right there-like, if you unlace your fingers or drop your hands I'm going to shock the fuck out of you!"

He stays quite. All that's going through his mind is that he's not going back to prison. Her back-up isn't coming. He can time his reaction just by the sound of the tazer shooting out.

"ok, this is just going to look worse on your arrest record"

He spits on the ground. Hoping that would cause her to react.

"Listen, my dude-"

"shut up! stop calling me that!"

"What's your name?"

"What?"

"What's your name?"

"My name?"

"Yeah, you're name"

"My name if Fuck-You-I-got-bad-knees!"

She notices that despite him being less than six feet away they are still yelling at each other.

"Ok, F.Y.I.G.B.K..." she says, sounding out each letter in quiter tone.

"If you want to stand here all day we can. I'm half your size- I mean personally I know I can take you- but I don't know if you have any other weapons. So we're going to stand here all day until my back-up shows up." she says, taking huge gulps of air.

"Ok, well I'm not dropping to my knees, I earn my money doing labor if I lose my knees I can't make a living." He tells her. He's biding for time. Despite what she says, his back-up will be back before her's.

"I understand that-"

"No, you don't! You get to go on medical leave and get paid time off if your thumb is sore from paperwork! Regular folks don't have that. I'm not dropping to my knees. Come and arrest me or we wait for back-up."

"Or I can fucking taze you if you move," she says. Losing her patience.

"Do it!"

A loud burst of gunfire erupts on all sides. She feels bullets wizzing by her and retreats to a secure position. She ducks behind a solid object and keeps her firearm at the ready.

The man takes a deep breath but feels an obstuction. It's as if he's breathing in water. He notices himself laying down. His breaths get shallower and more labored. His back up he thought, dying.

Actually amazing

I think you misheard "Aiur"

Very true! Too bad there’s no /r/bfy

This. This is the kind of thing that keeps me reading these prompts. Taking the idea in a new direction, but one that's believable. Congrats. This is fantastic.

Fuck me that was well done

Yep. Fixed. Thank you.

Humanity is a god in this one, but I also don’t think it QUITE works because we all know who the real heroes are.

Bee movie lore?

This was really awesome tho, I would totally watch a novel about this

What? Nearly all bees are female. Male bees are only made seasonally, are thicker, look way different, and die off after queen mating season. Every single worker bee is a female and the males are only made when they're needed.

10 out of 12 months every honey bee you see is female, and even during those two months only 1% of all bees are male.

dang, this is so good

All Vex could think of was the feel of a small hand in hers and all those times it had slipped out purposely to look at a worm, to pet a dog, to reach a leaf shaped like a heart (which was then proudly presented).

As she sat at the bar, one hand held a glass of apple juice tightly. The other was opening and closing reflexively. The news on the TV was muted behind her but she knew what it was showing. The banner said something like 'Villain slain in dramatic showdown in city centre" "Heist foiled" with clips of the 4 "heroes" involved.

They had everything wrong. Her baby had just understood technology. For Vex it was beyond her, it was something she only ever worked with on a physical level. But her baby worked magic on anything with chips and code and she had always been so proud. She was powerful, not that she ever felt the need to use the full extent for her powers, but her child having dominion over a domain she didn't understand was wonderful and just a little charming.

Chip had always been a bit hard on himself despite anything Vex had consoled him with. What good were his powers? Why couldn't he be more like her, or be able to fly or fight. But the older he got, the more familiar he became with fake news, propaganda, and the injustice happening the world over he finally found his niche and she was happy to see him pick up the mantle of causing chaos and change.

Random and very damaging emails coming to light from politicians and their lobbyists, the reports made by companies regarding their sweatshops or environmental damage from their factories, a glitch repricing insulin to just cents for a week before anyone noticed.

Vex realised despite both him, and deep down her, thinking his power was useful but insignificant in comparison to others, it may have been that her son was one of the most effective at really attacking the system. It had got him on the radar of the rich, the powerful and the megalomaniac.

"Showdown"

What showdown? He never needed to physically be anywhere, he never even bothered getting a costume to disguise his identity. He could be working at undermining the 1% in a random coffee shop with free WiFi, or at home in his office. He was only ever in a graphic tee shirt and jeans.

This morning, at 11:16 Vex received a text. It said, "they are here Scared Love you mum".

Her power was huge, but it does not let her traverse distance. By the time she got to the city outskirts it was already over and her only boy was dead, labelled a terrorist tech villain.

Techrot they'd called him. Chip would have hated that.

"Hello Vex" came a soft voice between her and the lying screen behind her.

She didn't turn. Sensor took to the stool next to her and sighed.

There was an unbroken silence. She didn't need to look at him to see him. A tall man, broad shouldered, usually a wonky grin. He'd been her official nemesis since the old days as he was the only one who could ever find her.

Sensor collected her twitching hand and held it, "Vex, I'm so sorry. He wasn't a bad kid. He didn't deserve this.".

She scoffed. Damn right he didn't.

"A few of the old guard have contacted me. They know this isn't right. The world's changed without us noticing and it's sick to the core".

He got something out his pocket, a folded piece of scrap paper, and placed it on the counter.

"When you are ready. Call us."

He let go of her hand, stood, and kissed the top of her head and left.

She reached for the paper and memorised the contents. Vex let it fall from her hand and before it could hit the counter, it had disintegrated into nothing.

I love this so much! Excellent story

The lair was quiet, but for the quiet drip of tears.

Usually, it would be full of light and whirring gizmos. Useless, most of them. But it fit the image so well.

I was the Instructor. The stereotype of a Mad Genius, perfect for teaching young heroes. Their first test of using their powers, in the relative safety of my laboratory.

I used to love to design my inventions, each calibrated to challenge the budding heroes abilities.

My son never understood why I never made more of my abilities. Why I deigned to putter around in my cliche of a lair, basically training the very heroes who should have feared me.

How could I explain it to him, the beautiful dance of perpetual invention? He couldn't see past the waste of our power, and it consumed him.

He swore he would make the heroes respect our family name.

He lasted a mere year.

~

A cautious step behind me broke me from my reverie, lost in memories as I wept over my beloved son.

He looked old, my nemesis, older than I remember. I heard that they forced him into retirement last year, claiming "a well deserved rest, after a distinguished career." An old mule to pasture, more like.

The grey hair suited him, I thought idly. A warm salt and pepper hair, still in that perfect coiffure. It projected the right feeling of fatherly confidence.

He stopped on the top step of the risers leading to my desk, hesitating. His mouth opened again and again, working for the right words, the right phrase to convey his pitiful condolences.

I stepped toward him, my grief urging me to strike out at him. The same grief, echoed in his eyes, drew me up short. The hand that had stretched out to slap his chiseled jaw instead caressed it as he drew me into a viselike embrace. My tears stained his suit as we held each other, our cries echoing through the vaulted room.

"I couldn't save him." The titanic arms around me spasmed at his words, withdrawing until he held my shoulders and an unwelcome space separated us.

"I couldn't save our boy." His voice rasped with emotion, "Those young punks, drunk on their own power. They could have stopped, he wasn't a threat after the first couple of hits." His fingers dug into my skin as he gasped, his tears streaming down that handsome face. "But their leader, Hyper's boy. That.... That.... Little shit wanted to send a message. To prove he was better than his old man."

I knew the brat. Helios. Son of the Leagues Founder, Hyperion, with powers to match. How he could walk with a head that large was beyond me.

My love sank to his knees, clasping me to him. I held his head against me, the weight of his head against my stomach an echo of the hole in my heart.

The sorrow in my soul began to smolder with rage, and with hate. Helios never considered me enough of a challenge to visit my lair, but his father had. And as my fingers twined in my beloved hair, I began to plot.

I fought many budding heroes over the years, and took delight in my inventions that could challenge any hero who strode across my door step. But in that challenge, I learned those heroes. And how to defeat them.

I vowed to crush young Helios. And I would send my own message with his broken body.

// Oooh, this was delicious. Thanks for the prompt, OP!