ONE | ALL SUPES ARE DICKS

"there's so much to dislike"

The television blared in the bar as Vought began to announce their new addition to the Seven. Lamplighter was out, having retired from the superhero team. The thought made the brunette woman laugh cynically, knowing that the asshole never would have left the Team willingly. None of them would. They were all too high on their own egos to go down without a fight.

However, she knew the real story behind his departure, and she enjoyed watching the manhunt that Vought had to go on to replace their talent. She remembered the scramble that took place when Peacekeeper mysteriously disappeared, a valuable Vought asset vanishing in a flurry of smoke and mirrors. Only to be replaced by the biggest fuckboy they could find; The Deep.

Like, honestly, they picked the token aquatic doucher to replace America's Sweetheart. Even A-Train had been a better replacement for Mister Marathon, having proved himself in Teenage Kix before his mighty promotion. Although, Translucent wasn't a sound decision to fill Phantom's spot either from what she's heard. Grade-A pervert. Never trust a guy who can turn invisible, she guessed. If Stillwell made those decisions, then her judgment was definitely slipping.

Now The Deep was onstage presenting the newest addition to the Seven, Starlight. Innocence and idealism radiated off this girl in literal beams of light. She looked completely out of her element, so shy in front of the gathered audience. So much like Peacekeeper in those early years.

The dark-haired woman downed the rest of her bourbon as if it were water, left a twenty at the counter, and swiftly moved from her seat.

After years in hiding, she decided to come back to New York City. Not because she had a death wish, but because the complacency that finally settled in with Vought and the Seven after all that time had allowed her to put her plan into action.

The anger from that night six years earlier had become a part of her. It flowed through her like the blood in her veins and she accepted it oh so willingly. Homelander was just the tip of the iceberg. He was only a pretty face to distract the public from the rest of Vought's underhandedness. She would not settle for just his head on a pike, although she deeply wanted it. She was going to take down the whole fucking monster.

The brunette woman walked down the street, popping her gum one last time before spitting it in the trash, and turned to enter the bodega on the way back to her shitty studio apartment. Her fingers twitched anxiously from their hiding place in the pockets of her hoodie. Whenever she was outside, her paranoia spiked, not wanting to run into a familiar face.

She nodded to the cashier in greeting as walked to the coolers to grab a Gatorade. There was another guy in the store, tall and lanky and staring wide-eyed at the Frosted A-Trains cereal on the shelf. She didn't pay him much attention as she snagged a red bottle from the fridge. However, her superhuman ears picked up his labored breathing and frantically rising heart rate. She followed him to the register, snagging a pack of sour gummy worms on the way.

"Hey, buddy, you okay?" the cashier said, setting down his magazine, but not before Ariel caught a glance at the cover. She refrained from rolling her eyes at it, not wanting either of them to think she was doing so at the hysterical man in front of her.

The panicked man didn't answer back as he stumbled backward into the shelves, knocking chips and toilet paper to the ground. He was full-on hyperventilating.

Ariel set her stuff down on the counter and crouched in front of him. She grabbed his hands and squeezed them, though obviously, she refrained from using her full strength. Her goal was not to crush every metacarpal of his. It was just enough to ground him and bring his attention to her. She released his hands when his eyes met hers, making sure not to crowd him.

"Hey, can you hear me? You're having a panic attack," she told him. His unfocused eyes met her own. "You're going to have to slow your breathing. I'm sure your chest is starting to hurt and continuing to hyperventilate isn't going to help. Inhale while counting to four, then wait a second before exhaling on a count of four too. I'll do it with you, okay?" He gave a jerky nod.

"Okay, in," Ariel said. She counted to four in her head, the man studying her breathing as she paused for a second and then began to exhale. She watched as he exhaled with her. After a few more times, the brunette was sure he'd sufficiently calmed himself down. "You're going to be okay. Can you tell me your name?"

He took a few labored breaths before his tongue wet his lips. "H-Hughie," he rasped, his throat dry.

She smiled at him. It wasn't a brilliant smile or anything groundbreaking, just a gentle upturn of her lips, a subconscious moment of pride in her ability to help him as well as a calming gesture to reassure him. "Nice to meet you, Hughie. Although, it probably would've been better under different circumstances." The slight crinkle at the corners of her eyes clued him into her teasing and he let out a huff of a laugh before coughing and clearing his throat.

Ariel stood and offered him her hand, easily pulling him into a standing position with little to no effort on his part. He silently noted her strength but brushed it off without another thought. "Nice to meet you too," he replied.

Without another word to him, she turned and handed the cashier a twenty. "I'll get his, too. It looks like he can definitely use a drink after all that." She took her change, pocketed it, and then handed him the six-pack he had grabbed from the coolers. "Here." He took it with a nod of thanks. Together, they exited the bodega.

"Not a fan of A-Train, I'm guessing." Her comment surprised him. "I just noticed you saw him on the cover of the magazine before, y'know... and, uh, you were staring at his cereal when I came in."

He nodded, "Uh, yeah, you could say that." Bitterness filled his tone.

"Wow," she uttered, genuinely surprised to find someone who shared her feelings of disdain. "Usually, when it comes to any of Vought's finest, people range from mildly enamored to deranged stan." Her sarcasm was thinly veiled. She ripped open the package of sour gummy worms and popped one in her mouth.

He squinted at her in vague amusement. Her dark hair was tied up in a messy high ponytail and her dark-rimmed glasses contrasted beautifully with her green-hazel eyes. Her round face and full cheeks gave her a youthful look; obviously an adult but he couldn't tell if she was closer to his age or in her early twenties. He hadn't gotten a good look at her when she was helping him earlier, but now he was finally able to take in his hero. She wasn't even trying yet, somehow, she was one of the most striking people he had ever seen.

When he didn't say anything back to her, she held out her hand to shake, "I'm Ar—Eris." Even with years spent on the run, she hadn't shaken herself of the reflex of answering with her real name. Eris was what she went by now. It's who she was.

Ariel meant Lion of God, a protector. Eris was, well...

"Like the goddess of strife and discord?" he asked. He tilted his head in vague interest.

She let out a light laugh. "Huh, uh, yeah. My mom had a killer sense of humor," she lied easily. "Nice to meet a fellow nerd though. That's not exactly common knowledge, Hughie."

Not wanting to leave her hanging, he quickly reached out and shook her extended hand. " I might've been a little hurt by that nerd comment if you hadn't known exactly what I was talking about."

"I did say 'fellow nerd' so, yeah," she responded. She released his hand and picked another gummy worm from the bag.

Ariel glanced over her shoulder nervously, her eyes searching the faces of the public around her as they still stood outside the store. This was probably the longest conversation she's had with someone in a while. "Are you alright?" Hughie asked her. He noticed how her eyes darted occasionally as if waiting for something bad to happen.

She met his eyes and gave a short laugh, waving him off. "Me? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. You're the one that just had a panic attack. I should be asking you that," she deflected. She could still see the concern in his eyes, so she returned to the conversation they were previously having. "So, what's your beef with A-Train?"

"Uh, my girlfriend died. Kinda—well, not kinda—it was his fault." Hughie admitted, hesitantly. She looked at him in shock.

"Oh-oh shit. I'm so sorry." Ariel honestly should've expected it to be something like that, but usually, Vought kept anyone from talking about it with their bullshit NDAs. "Wait, did that like just happen? Like, the girl they keep talking about on the news?" He nodded. "They didn't like hunt you down and make you sign something saying you wouldn't talk about it?"

He narrowed his eyes at her curiously. "Uh, yeah, they did. But, I refused."

"Good for you, man. Been there before myself. Supes... they're all fucking dicks. And there's a direct correlation between the number of fans a Supe has and their body count, I swear." She knew she should probably just bite her tongue and high tail it out of there to get back home, but it was so refreshing to find someone else as disillusioned as her to the corporate, superhero fuckery that Vought flooded the masses with.

"Yeah..." Hughie trailed off.

"Sorry, that was a bit much," she admitted.

Hughie shook his head. "No, no. It's fine. I'm just not used to... people not liking them?" He sounded like he was asking a question, but really, he just wasn't sure if that was the right way to put it.

She shrugged. "Well, it's not that hard when there's so much to dislike."

"But it's just a sweet, sweet fantasy, baby. When I close my eyes, you come and take me," Mariah Carey's voice sang. The sound coming from Ariel's pocket startled them and caused the girl to pull out her phone, quickly swiping the screen to end the call.

"If you need to take that—," he started but she cut him off with a wave of her hand.

"Nah, it's not important. I'll call them back." She took a step back from him. "So, are you going to be good to get home on your own?" she asked. Her eyebrows quirked in concern.

Hughie gave her a slight smile. "I think I can manage it."

"O—kay," she drew out. "If you need me just shout and I'll swoop in and save you. Hell, I'll probably be more help than any super-asshole around here," she joked. Although, it wasn't really a joke. Since it was true... "See ya around, Hughie."

When Maeve found Starlight in the bathroom, she tried not to compare her to Ariel in her mind. But, the similarities were almost too obvious to look past. Not just in appearance—although Starlight's blonde locks weren't from a bottle—but in personality too.

Starlight embodied everything that Ariel once was. It pained Maeve to see that the young blonde had fallen victim to The Deep's sexual deviance. His very presence on the team was an insult to Ariel's memory.

It was the young blonde's tears that got to the older woman though. Having been the only female on the team since Ariel disappeared without a trace, it was hard for Maeve to see Starlight crying and not mentally replace her with the image of Ariel crying in her room after Phantom's death.

The day after their talk, Ariel had left on her sabbatical and never returned. Vought had been frantic for weeks trying to locate the supe, only to look like morons when nothing was found. Weeks turned to months, which turned into a year. The company had to save face. They claimed Peacekeeper perished on a mission, as stating she was dead was easier than admitting that they lost one of their most popular heroes. That she ran.

Homelander had hated the whole excuse.

Ariel was quite possibly the only person he ever saw close to his equal. Hell, she was the only one who was able to call him John without losing a limb. To deem that she was capable of dying was not only an insult toward her in his eyes but also an insult to him. To claim that she could die, was a claim that he could die, and he needed everyone to see him as invincible. A god.

The Seven knew the truth though. Ariel wasn't dead. She was just gone.

After she went MIA, everything got worse, something Maeve did not even think was possible. Homelander was even more ruthless and uncaring. The Amazonian-eqsue woman went from distant and disillusioned to practically apathetic. Then, there was the fallout of the Miami incident, the new additions to the team, Lamplighter... it was easier to just shut down and tune it all out.

Madelyn Stillwell was working late yet again. Her phone pinged for the sixth time with a text from her nanny and she longed to get home to her son, Teddy, but it just wasn't in the cards.

Crime Analytics and Public Relations had comprised quite the dossier on her newest problem to deal with. Some masked Supe was running around the city, picking off muggers and abusers and rapists. The only problem was that it wasn't one of Vought's assets.

With some phone calls, she managed to quiet the press to this unnamed vigilante for the moment. But, this had been going on for months now and Mr. Edgar was growing impatient with the lack of progress. Vought might be able to control the mainstream media, but some of the victims were coming out about their masked savior online and it was only a matter of time before this unknown Supe stole the thunder of the Seven, making her heroes look bad. Homelander would be even more insufferable than he already was if that happened.

She glanced at her computer monitor, her eyes reading over the words in Mr. Edgar's email once again. Bring the vigilante into Vought's fold or silence them for good. Those were her two options. Madelyn suspected that it was going to lean more toward the latter. If this person wanted the recognition—the money and fame—that Vought could give them, then they would've already come forward.

There was one option to deal with this rogue that she hadn't utilized yet. Vought's most loyal asset, one that couldn't say a word about the mission even if he wanted to. Her thought was interrupted by the door to her office opening.

Madelyn plastered on her signature fake smile. "Black Noir," she greeted enthusiastically. "Please have a seat."

The thick, tight suit hugged Ariel's body as she suited up for her night out. She went to place the helmet-like mask over her head, a domino mask already firmly in place in case the helmet needed to be removed. It was something she picked up from Phantom's old costume. However, before she could put on the helmet, her phone rang loudly, blaring vintage Mariah Carey through her otherwise silent flat.

She answered it quickly, not checking the caller ID. She already knew who it was since she never returned the earlier call. "Hello," she deadpanned.

"A little bird told me that you were doing field work when you assured me you were only doing surveillance," a familiar voice started on the other end.

Ariel scoffed out a laugh, "What no 'hello', Aunt Grace?" She didn't wait for Colonel Grace Mallory to respond before moving on to her next jibe. "If those birds you're watching are talking to you now, I think you should be more worried about finding a decent psychologist out there in the middle of nowhere than what I'm up to right now."

An exasperated sigh sounded over the line before Grace addressed the girl that she had begrudgingly begun to see like family over the years. "You were supposed to just be gathering information when you moved back out to the city. Now, I hear you're out being a champion to the people, hunting down criminals."

"Someone has to. You and I both know that Vought doesn't actually give a shit." At Grace's silence, Ariel started again. "If I'm here and I can do something about it, I'm going to. I can't just stand by and watch people get hurt. The Seven aren't helping." As the words left her mouth, she thought back to Hughie in the bodega and his girlfriend, the one A-Train ran through. They weren't helping at all. In fact, they were making it worse. "Besides I'm a great multi-tasker!"

She could literally hear Grace rolling her eyes. "I think we're going to have to agree to disagree on that one. If there's anything I've learned about you over the years, it's that you have a one-track mind. Once you set a goal for yourself, you don't give up on it."

Ariel chewed on her bottom lip. She knew Grace was referring to her ever-present vendetta against Vought, the Seven, Homelander. "I tried being a part of them, fixing the problem from the inside out. It only got Phantom killed. I tried beating them with you and the Boys. And look what happened with that clusterfuck. Now, I'm trying it my way. Solo. I'm going to be Vought's worst fucking nightmare by the end of this."

"I know, Ariel. And I trust you, I do. I know I've backed down from this fight for my own reasons. I know that anything I say won't get you to change your mind. I just want you to be smart about it. I didn't let you mooch off of me and hide out with me for years just for you to get caught up in something stupid after a few months on your own."

Ariel let out a more genuine chuckle this time. "Heard, mom," she teased the older woman, who against her better judgment had become a mother-like figure in her life. "But remember, I'm indestructible. Nothing can kill me, not even Homelander."

So, should I be starting a new story? Absolutely fucking not! But, here we are. I'm vibing with The Boys right now with season 3 airing. Sue me. I take inspiration and motivation when I can get it.

A heads up, Ariel will not be a perfect character, so don't expect her to be. No one in this show is. She was a part of the Vought machine once. She can be a hypocrite. She can be prideful. She can make not-so-great decisions. At times, she was complicit in shitty things the company did. She is an asshole too. But, she has a conscience. She knows she was a part of the problem, even if she doesn't say it. And she wants to change.

Let me know what you think and remember to vote if you enjoyed the chapter!