A/N: WARNING! This chapter has a trigger warning. Language and certain themes, brief though they are. There you go. You've been warned.
This is the last Boys Request I'm taking. Three is more than enough for me, yessir!
Hope you've seen season one, because this? Compared to my "Bones" and "Diabolical Invincible Me" stories... well. This tale take the road less traveled.. Seriously, I'm 99.9% certain no one's tried this angle before, at least in this crossover section.
Its either going to be smashing success, or a resounding failure. Its that polarizing. Each chapter is, more or less, a full episode.
As ever, the Embers rule remains. If people don't like this story? If they don't enjoy it? Well...I'll not continue it. That's no joke, folks. I'm so busy these days with two jobs; basically, I don't have time off. Not anymore. My free time is limited and as such, I can't afford to focus on something folks don't like. Reviews keep me writing in these times, and keep the daily updates flowing. Silence...silence only hurts. I hate having to beg for feedback, but without it...well, it feels like I'm not making an impact.
Alright, then! I think I've kept you all waiting long enough, no?
As ever, I own no references, quotes themes, or memes. Not a wit, not a one!
They're all tributes to legends far, far greater than I.
There we go. Disclaimer over. Hope you enjoy~!
Minor verbatim from episode one.
"When I was little, they always asked me what my wish was. I always said: to save the world.
And the judges just...chuckled, like it was cute. But it wasn't a joke to me. Since when did hopeful and naive become the same thing?
I mean...why would you get into this business if not to save the world? That's all I have ever wanted. And that's why I've always wanted to be in the Seven."
~Starlight.
No Heroes Here
How does one conquer a castle?
Fair question, really.
First, we have the old-fashioned ways; tried an' true tactics passed down through the ages. And there are many. Most try besieging a castle from the outside. They throw themselves at its walls with reckless abandon until either they or their enemies break. Alternatively, you could wage your army against theirs. Set fire to their fields outside and let them choke in their beds. Ransack the towns nearby. Starve out its defenders slowly over a period of days, weeks, months, years even.
Its an ugly process lemme tell you; I've seen it. Learned that lesson the hard way.
Or you could take the road less traveled. Infiltrate. Weave your way into their good graces. Make the King of said castle think you're one of his people, that you're his friend; his confidant, his buddy, his pal. Gain his trust, his confidence; undermine him from within...and then drive your dagger through his black, black heart.
You see, the only real way to take down a castle, a kingdom, an enterprise...is from the inside.
Even if means hiding who you are. How you really feel. Lurking behind a mask.
I've always been good at that. Hiding how I really felt.
But I was never fond of the second option, you know? Always thought I could smash my way through any problem out there; or barring that, talk said problem down.
Until this.
This world.
This ugly place.
I wish I'd never landed here...been stranded here. You can shout and scream, but no one wants to listen. What's that? Keep your hands clean? Already tried that. I ranted. I raged. People didn't listen. They didn't want to. I lost face for trying.
So I changed my face. Now we do things the shinobi way.
Y'see, this rotten little world has taught me a little something. An immutable truth, ya know? You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink. Shove its head underwater and it'll drown just to spite you. It has to drink of its own free will, its own volition, or there's no point. There are no gods or kings here. Only mankind. No superheroes, despite what they want you to think. Blessed by god? Divine birthright? Pah! Don't make me laugh. I've seen a god. Gods, these are not. They're all spoiled children with very, and I mean VERY few exceptions.
But there is a castle. Vought, is that castle.
I'll take them down from the inside.
And their world will crumble.
(.0.0.0.)
"Oh my god! You...you're Black Noir!"
Hughie leaned back from the counter, eyes bulging fit to burst.
Black Noir, one of the Seven, stared back, head tilting to the right as he looked on.
An honest-to-god Superhero in his little run-down store. Never thought he'd see the day. Clad from dead to doe in matte black armor, this particular Supe lived up to his name and image alike. A silent hero never speaking a word, never revealing his face in the public eye. No one knew what he looked like under that mask. Rumors flew fast and thick about him. Some said he was an alien from another world. Others claimed he wasn't a man at all.
Yeah, the New York rumor mill was one helluva trip.
Still, none of that mattered. One of the Seven was right here. Standing right in front of him, larger than life. Never in his life had he needed something so much and never known until he received it A-Train? Who the hell was A-Train?! A-Train never came down to a place like this. Not him, not Homelander, not Queen Maeve, not Translucent, none of them.
Which begged the question, now that he thought about it. Why come down to a place that barely saw any business?
Hell, Noir was the only one here right now! That'd probably change once word got out, but still!
"What brings you all the way out here?" he dithered a moment, wincing a little now as that blank black visor gazed at him. "Kinda doubt you need a new remote...but hey, if you do...?"
The masked man plucked something from his utility belt and held it out for him to inspect. Hughie squinted at it.
In short order he found himself gazing at the picture of a young asian woman with dark hair and dead eyes. She gazed blankly back at him within the photograph. Judging him. Damning him. Felt like she was staring into his soul. She looked lost. Alone. Afraid. A touch of pity stirred in his heart. Poor thing looked like she hadn't seen a good meal in days.
Nor pulled a notepad from his utility belt, and a pen with it. Skrtch-skrtch-skrtch went the pen.
He turned said pad around for him to see. Two words were revealed:
"Seen her?"
"I...ah...no." he swallowed once and looked away, feeling ashamed. "Haven't seen anyone like that. Not around here."
Away went the pen and paper. Noir made an exasperated noise and turned to leave.
"W-Wait!"
The hero paused.
"Could I, um...I dunno..." Hughie scratched at the back of his head and immediately cursed himself for the slip. No, no! Don't be a dumbass! Man up! He rallied and pushed on. "Maybe, get a picture? For my wall?" Noir didn't utter a word. That expressionless mask only stared at him. His resolve faltered. "Right, no picture. How about an autograph?"
Out came the pen again. A pause. Noir's right am gestured in a broad arc, as if to say "sign what?" around the store.
Panic bleated through Hughie's brain.
Right, right, any old scrap of paper wouldn't do. If he signed his arm, it would just wash off sooner or later.
...here!"
He panicked and stretched out his uniform, the shirt he was even now wearing. Noir tilted his head. For a moment, just a moment -a single sliver of a second!- he thought he saw a smile behind the cloth covering the lower half of his face. Impossible to tell behind all that thick frabic. Then it was gone and he stepped forward, plucking a marker from his belt in place of the pen.
Noir wrote quickly, four little words lazily scrawled out in stark relief.
"Don't stop believing."
~Noir.
Hughie damn near had a heart attack. Was that a pop culture reference? Damn near looked like one. That settled it. He was never washing this shirt. Ever. Screw what anyone said. He was mounting this damn thing on his wall. Framing it, too! He'd never sell it!
"Thanks, man. I owe you one-
A black business card landed on the glass counter, cutting him short.
Hughie frowned down at it, not quite comprehending it at first. Picked it up now, to get a better look at it. There was a number there; one he didn't recognize. His eyes bulged again.
"I don't understand. What is...?
Noir's pad came up again. He hadn't even seen him move. But he saw the letters all the same. "If you see the girl...call me. Reward."
Hughie's mouth went dry. "What kind of reward-holy shit!"
His words piqued into a yelp as fat wad of cash landed on the counter. Followed by another. Holy hell. There had to be a couple thousand there at least. Way more than the raise he'd planned to ask for. He flicked a frantic glance to the cameras, knowing full well how this would look...only to find said cameras silent. Inert. Drooping towards the floor. The once steady red light that marked their activation was nowhere to be seen. How in the blue hell-no, don't think about that. Money! Counter! Focus.
He turned back to Noir and steeled himself as best he could. "Look, I appreciate it, but can't take this, I don't deserve-
The Supe held up a single finger and pressed it to his mask. The other held out the notepad again:
"More if you keep an eye out."
"I...I shouldn't."
Skrtch-skrtch-skrtch went the pen again. "Ten thousand dollars. Take it. You deserve this."
Did he...?
A gloved hand pushed the money Hughie's way. He made to push it back...and found himself hesitating as his fingers closed around the cash. Robin was killing herself in school for his sake. All because he couldn't man up enough to ask Gary for a raise. Because he was a coward; because he didn't have a spine. Shame curdled in his chest. Logic smacked it upside the head. This wasn't anything illegal. Noir was giving him this money freely. Wasn't he? This could be a new start for him. And all he had to do was keep an eye for a little asian girl. Someone who was, most likely, a criminal?
What was the harm?
Hughie grabbed the money and crammed it deep into his pockets.
Noir didn't speak, but he did make a pleased noise. He took his hand from the counter and clapped him on the shoulder. The other hit a button on his utility belt. With a low whine, the cameras sprang back to life. Hughie cast a reluctant look their way. His boss would probably have questions later, but none of that mattered right now.
"Thanks maaaaaaaaaaannnnnd he's gone."
When he looked back Noir was nowhere to be seen.
The door closed on empty air and wind, the sole sign that he'd ever been there at all. "...How does he do that?"
(.0.0.0.)
Billy Butcher stared at his phone.
His phone stared right back, with a three lines of text within.
"I found her. She's alive. Meet me at the usual place. Tomorrow. Midnight."
He gripped his phone until it creaked.
"Fucking diabolical...
(.0.0.0.)
Annie couldn't breathe.
Her heart was hammering so hard in her chest it felt like it was about to burst. Every second she sat here made the anxiety worse. What if they didn't like her? What if they hated her-no! She could do this. She had to. She must. She was Starlight, after all. Wasn't this her dream? To be chosen? To be a part of the Seven? It was all she'd ever wanted for so long. All she had to do was open the car door. She could feel her mother's eyes on her. Waiting. Expectant. Breathe. She could do this. So what if it was a little scary?
Just...just roll with the punches.
Steeling herself, she wrenched the door open.
Almost immediately, the roar of the crowd hit her like a physical force. Cameras went off. People howled her name. It was all so overwhelming that she staggered for a moment, even as she smiled. So many faces, all of which were crying out for her. It inundated her. Drowned her. Were it not for Mom holding one hand to her shoulder, she might've fainted dead away.
"There she is! Welcome to New York." a mousy redhead in a crisp suit awaited her on the red carpet, hand extended. "I'm Ashley Barrett, director of talent relations. So nice to finally meet you~!"
Numb, she shook her hand. "Are all these people here for me?"
Ashley tittered a little. "Oh, honey. Who else would they be here for?
And there behind the redhead, looming large and tall, a stern silent shadow...oh god. Annie's throat went dry. Why was he here? Of all the people she'd expected to meet, she hadn't thought it wouldbe this soon!
"Is that...?"
"Noir likes to meet the rookies," Ashley whispered aside. "Its a thing he does. Roll with it."
Annie managed a nod and tried not to balk as she gazed up at...Black Noir.
Good lord, he really was a tall one, wasn't he?
Second only to the legendary Homelander himself, this man had ever fascinated her since she was a little girl. A silent hero, never speaking a word, never removing his mask, forever sworn to his duty. Not one to ask for accolades or fame. Not him. He just...was. His record spoke for itself; a storied career of heroism and valor nearly unmatched the world over.
"You must be Black Noir." she offered him her hand. "Its an honor to meet you."
He was silent for a long moment, dark mask reflecting nothing. Annie wondered if he'd heard her at all.
Without warning he took her hand, swept one leg back, bent at the waist, and sketched a little bow for her. Still holding her right hand, he brought it up to where his mouth beneath the mask. She felt warm lips touch her knuckles through the cloth. A feather's brush, nothing. Heat seared through her face, even as little voice squealed in the back of her head.
Mom gasped. The crowd went wild. It drew a startled laugh from her.
"Aren't you a charmer?"
He stood and waffled a gloved hand to and fro.
"He doesn't talk." Ahsley whispered aside. "You'll get used to it."
Noir gave a nod, followed by a simple slashing motion across his throat.
Then he was gone, sauntering away. She wouldn't see him again until that evening.
(.0.0.0.)
A man removed his mask.
"Not much longer, now." a voice rasped. "Nearly there."
Weary blue eyes gazed into the mirror, framed by dirty blond hair and whiskered cheeks.
His hands dipped down, cupped some water, and splashed it onto his face.
His right ear twitched. He sensed negative emotions, a spike of fear.
With a long suffering sigh, he yanked his mask back on.
(.0.0.0.)
This wasn't happening.
This couldn't be happening.
It was happening and she couldn't do anything to stop it.
The moment she did, the second she tried, all her dreams would be in tatters.
Everything had been going so smoothly...until that sick bastard cornered her up here. Damnit. Damn her. Damn him.
"Just roll with the punches for like three minutes maybe, its not a big deal." The Deep loomed over her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Its just a little pole smoking. And then you know what happens? All your dreams come true."
Her eyes flicked away to the chairs. One of which would be hers...if she could just get through this.
If she said no, it would be just as he'd said. Who would believe her, a small town girl? It would be her word against his. Her, against one of the Seven. He'd claim she'd attacked him, the lying prick. She wanted to fry him even now, consequences be damned. Screw that smug little shit! Her eyes flashed gold. If he thought for one fucking second that she'd just roll over and suck his...!
The doors smashed open.
Deep yelped and tried to yank his pants back up as sundered steel parted, only for a knife to hurtle through the gap. It caught his trousers by the leg and and pinned them to the floor. Still flailing he flopped backward like a fish out of water and landed hard on his ass. Annie took some small, smug pleasure in that. Prick.
Someone stalked through the still opening doors; someone wearing all black.
The moment she saw his mask, her heart soared.
Thank god for heroes.
In hindsight, Starlight wasn't sure what made her move, what had her ducking behind Black Noir for safety, only that she did. He shifted his stance, placing himself firmly between her and her...no. She wouldn't even think of that word; of what she'd nearly done. She'd been a hairsbreadth away from killing him in cold blood. Not that he didn't derseve it, but to think that she'd almost...!
"Noir?" Caught with his pants down, Deep frantically fumbled to get them back on. "This isn't what it looks like!"
As ever, Noir didn't say a word. His matte black mask reflected nothing; the soulless shades staring out at them both. And then his gaze shifted to her. He must've seen something then, because the silent warrior shook his head. His gaze shifted to her. Back to the Deep, now. She heard a soft exhale of breath, an almost weary sigh. As if to say, "seriously? How stupid can you be?" and bemoan the sight before him.
Then he moved.
Starlight never saw the punch.
But she certainly saw what followed
Deep crashed backward, hit the table, and flipped over it. He came up clutching a bloody nose. "What the hell, man?!"
Noir stabbed a hand into his belt. Fished a pad forth, wrote vigorously, and all but shoved it his way.
"You're out."
All the color drained from Deep's face. "What...?"
Noir stabbed his pen down on the last word.
"Hey, you don't have any proof!"
Black Noir stowed the pen and paper, only to pluck something else from his belt. A small rectangular device of some sort, jet black, just like the rest of him. He brandished it with a flourish and made a wheezing noise that might have been laughter. Starlight couldn't tell, it might've been an act for all she knew.
Then he squeezed the remote with gusto.
All around them, the cracked screens flickered as the scene replayed itself in horrific fashion. The moment Deep dropped his pants. Her mute horror, mouth agape as she stumbled away, as he followed. Every word that followed. With each passing moment the color drained even further from his face. She wasn't surprise when the rage came. The denial.
"You can't do this to me!" he snarled, fists balling at his sides. "Do you know how hard I worked to get here?! How much I sacrificed?!"
Noir scratched out another message. "Don't care. You. Out. Now~!"
Deep puffed out his chest. "Maybe I'll just tell Homelander! See what he thinks about all this!
One could've heard a pin drop in the silence that followed. To Annie, it was the pin of a grenade.
Black Noir put his pad away. Stowed it with near-exaggerated slowness. Stepped past her, silent as the grave.
Credit where it was due, the Deep didn't flee. He really should have. Three quick strides carried Noir forward; a fourth brought him the rest of the way. He loomed over the shorter man, silent as the grave. The faint creak of leather hit her ears as he leaned toward him. The Deep opened his mouth to say something, some smug snarkish comment perhaps.
Noir didn't give him the chance to speak.
His body dissolved a black blur; in a near simultaneous movement he slapped Deep across the face, drove a knee into the man's groin, grabbed him by the scruff of his vest, hoisted him up, and left dangling him in the air as one might a child's toy. He leaned in then, close enough to bring his mask level with Deep's right ear, as though to whisper to him. His victim stiffened. For a wild moment Annie wondered if she'd actually heard him speak-
CRACK!
Noir rammed his mask into Deep's face. His victim howled and clutched at his bloodied visage, then him, trying to ward off what was to come. "No, no, no! Wait, wait! I'm sorry!" his voice piqued into a wail as a fist cocked back. "I'm sorrrrreeeeee-
The masked madman slammed him to the floor and descended upon him. So too did his fists.
Once.
Twice. Thrice now.
Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine.
Blood splashed out as the Deep blubbered for mercy. He was given none. Black Noir kept whaling on him until his cries fell silent, and then for a little while after. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he ceased. One last blow left her would-be-tormentor in a comatose heap, sprawled out in a bloody daze.
Noir climbed off his unconscious form. Annie flinched away, back against the wall.
He held out a hand. Scribbled a note.
"I won't hurt you. Promise."
Starlight flicked an anxious look Deep's way. Was it wrong that things had come to this? Maybe. Did she take perverse pleasure in watching the Deep be humbled? Hell yes.
...thank you."
Noir's response was to pluck that strange device from his belt once more, aim it at the screens, and squeeze. The lights dimmed. The screens went dark entirely. Annie found herself frowning. He paused and seemed to grapple with something for a moment. His device clicked again. A low whine of static filled the room soon thereafter, a dull buzz humming at the edge of her ears.
And then:
"There." Annie jolted a little when he spoke; if only because he shouldn't be able to. "Now no one can hear us. You're welcome." His voice was surprisingly low, the rumble of an approaching storm sweeping all before him. It sent a pleasant shiver shooting down her spine. He didn't try to approach her, and still she found herself quivering all the same.
"You can talk?"
"When I have something to say." Another hoarse rumble that might've been laughter. You'd be amazed how little folks think of you when you can't speak."
"But why now? Why for me...?
A laugh. "Because you're worth breaking cover for."
"Cover? "She dithered, unsure of of what to say to that. "No, nevermind that. Are...are they all like this?"
"Some more than others." he flicked a hand toward the ceiling. "Maeve isn't quite as bad, but she probably would've let this happen all the same. Any one of them would. You can't trust them. Any of them.
She quirked a brow at him. "This from a man in a mask."
Noir chortled a little.
...fair."
Gloved fingers dug down into the cloth portion of his mask and lifted, exposing the lower half of his visage to her. The rest remained hidden behind his helmet. Despite her best efforts, Annie flinched. She spied whiskered cheeks set in a scarred face, burnt by some awful accident. What might've been a hint of blond hair. The rest of his mask hid his face, but even so, his lips quirked in a rueful grin.
"Thanks by the way." he said. "I've been trying to catch that bastard in the act for years. He'll be out on his ass for this. Tabloids are gonna have a field day."
Dread reared its ugly head. His time had been perfect. Too perfect. "Did...did you...use me?"
"Nope." he smacked his lips with an audible pop. "Just happened to be in the right place at the right time...for once."
The way he'd phrased it worried Annie more than she cared to admit; if only because it suggested he'd failed before. "Who are you, really?"
"Just a friend." he hummed out a chuckle, inwardly amused by some joke she didn't understand. "And as a friend, here's a friendly piece of advice." his hand patted her shoulder. "Don't let your guard down here. Not ever. There are no heroes here, Annie." his scarred face creased in a small, sad smile. "No gods, either. Only monsters."
Earlier he'd said he was breaking cover. This...this was Black Noir, wasn't it? She wasn't sure what made her doubt, only that she did. That implied even more unpleasantness. How long had he kept this act up? Days? Months? Years?
"What do you want from me?"
He laughed. "Who said I wanted anything?"
She crossed both arms before her bosom and scowled. "Everyone wants something."
"Alright, alright. You got me. A friend would be nice." Rather than answer further, "Noir" tugged his mask back on. Only once the cloth was securely in place did he offer her his hand. "Maybe ham it up a bit when the reporters ask what happened here. You keep my secret, I'll keep yours."
She blinked quickly. "My secret?"
"You're a fighter, Annie." a finger poked her shoulder. "A killer. Just like me. I've seen so many people just bow over and take it, but you?" she could all but hear the smile in his words, a touch of pride tugging at those whiskered cheeks. "I felt your intent you were actually ready to slaughter Deep for a moment there." he snapped his fingers. "I've been looking for a Supe like that, someone willing to fight back."
Realization dawned anew, but she had to ask. She had to know. "Against what?"
"Against this!" he flung up his arms and pivoted away from her, glaring bloody red daggers at the painted ceiling above. "Against all of it. Someone who will help me take down these so-called heroes from the inside, show the world who they really are!" Quick as a flash he whirled to face her again. "You think Deep was bad? Honey, what you witnessed her today was tame compared to what I've seen. They're all monsters."
"Even Homelander?"
He hissed out a breath. "Especially Homelander.
Heat hit her face again, for an altogether different reason. If they were truly as corrupt as he said...well, she'd seen a hint of it just now, hadn't she? Almost didn't want to believe it. Surely Homelander and the others weren't as bad. They couldn't be. The very notion that the Seven, the heroes she'd all but grown up with, looked up to, aspired to be, could be...this? She recoiled from the very thought. They were heroes. They were meant to be paragons of truth and justice not monsters masquerading as men.
At least Noir seemed a decent sort. Better than the rest, certainly.
Annie made up her mind. She'd put her trust in him...for now.
Her hand clasped his, squeezing tight. "Deal."
"Noir" smiled behind his mask.
"Welcome to the Seven."
A/N: Buh-bye Deep~!
We've not seen the last of Hughie, don't you worry.
Each chapter will cover an episode, more or less. Which means...I've got work to do.
To be clear, in this era, the original Black Noir died quite some time ago. Naruto -not nerfed in any way shape or form, lets get that out of the way right now- offed the silent Supe and assumed his identity, with none the wiser. Not Vought, not Edgar, not Stillwell, and not Homelander. Why, you ask? He tried the brute force approach at first; all but said as much. Folks didn't listen. So he did what anyone would do. You hit a wall? You find a way around.
Now he's resolved to covertly change the system from the inside...or burn it down. All that power. All that skill, dedicated to a single purpose.
Which is precisely WHY he spoke to Starlight. He didn't expect to find a pure soul like her.
You bet to high hell he'll be going after the rest of the Seven.
As ever, we're following the Embers Rule here. That's no joke. Really, it isn't. If folks don't like this...well, it won't be continued. Every bit of feedback helps. Reviews are the fuel which keeps me writing in these crazy times. With my tight schedule -two jobs!- I simply don't have time to write a story folks don't like. Without them, my inspiration cannot take wing and I can't write a word. So by all means, speak up!
So in the Immortal Words of Atlas...Review, Would You Kindly?
And enjoy some previews.
(Previews)
"It must be a terrible thing, to live your life behind a mask."
"We all wear masks." She still couldn't see his face. He sounded almost amused. "All of us."
"I can be in a hundred different places at once. Disguise myself as anyone. Anything. You're right. I could've ended this a year ago. That would be too easy. Their punishment must be more severe."
Maeve glared at him. "What is it now, Noir?"
He held up a photo. All the blood drained from her face. "Where did you get that?"
Up came the notepad again. Three little words awaited her.
"Walk with me."
"Popclaw. Leave."
Hughie stumbled, pulling Robin with him.
Black Noir's head snapped to the side. In the same instant he held out his right arm
CRUNCH.
Something -someone!- struck his arm and flipped clean over it, smashing into the ground. If he'd been just a hair closer, he would've run Robin over.
A-Train stumbled up. "Who the hell-oh, shit. I'm sorry man, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-
Clenched knuckles hammered into the side of his head.
"Have a nice day."
Starlight flung up her arms. "You're not going to tell me what you're after, are you?"
...safer for you that way."
"You've all been slacking. Not you though, Noir. You've been great. You get me." Homelander slung an arm around his shoulder as he faced those at the table, "Maybe you should all be a little more like him."
Naruto smiled behind his mask.
All according to plan.
"You're a right cunt, you know that?"
Noir didn't say a word. He just stood there. Staring. Cheeky prick.
Butcher flung up his arms. "Look mate, I'm not in the mood. If you're just going to faff about then I'm out of here-
An envelope hit his chest. Butcher opened it. Saw the pictures.
...where did you get this?"
"Your wife's alive." fucking hell, he could talk. "I know where she is."
"Bloody hell. Alright. I'll bite. What do you want."
...Homelander's head on a pike."
"Well, well, well. Now you're speaking my language."
R&R~!