Villains I dont see very often; mute. Mute villains are the best, nothing can convince me otherwise.
One idea thats been on my mind is a mute villain confessing to the hero, either through sign language, or a perfectly executed scheme. You���re choice :))
Not sure if this counts, but I ran with it. Might try this again after I gather some ASL knowledge. Hope you enjoy :)
A Silent Movie
It wasn’t exactly easy to get Hero sat in front of the cinema screen. In fact, the planning for this trap had taken over sixth months. Not to mention the money it took to buy this building off foreclosure, and the multitude of investments into Hero-proofing the location.
It was even harder to get said hero to stop yelling long enough to pay attention to the image being projected from the back of the room. Not that their sense of hearing was needed for this experience, but Villain imagined Hero would appreciate the lack of noise-based distractions, including sounds they themselves were making.
The theater was notably large, probably the most expensive showing room of its day. That is to say, the upholstery was a little outdated. The popcorn had been swept off the floor, the swirling carpet surprisingly clean. The velvet of the seats did not appear stained, and the cupholders were absent of any discarded snacks or tickets.
The glow of the emergency exit lights were the only thing illuminating the room, and they revealed a dim image of the hero situated in the center of the third row, which was optimal seating in the villain’s opinion.
Clearly, Hero did not agree, considering how hard they were pulling at the restraints to try and exit their carefully selected theater chair.
It was futile, of course, and the hero finally stopped straining when the villain appeared a row below them, quiet as a mouse, standing with a finger pressed to their lips.
Villain retreated when the hero quieted, letting their attention shift to the screen and this special showing. Images flicked past, and Hero became engrossed in the story unfolding on the screen.
Shown was a news reel Hero recognized as the time Villain had crashed their Election Day speech. A zoomed out map of the city, marking City Hall with a red square. Grainy footage of two figures dancing around next to a dumpster. Once again the map appeared, now with two squares pasted on top. The pattern continued, and Hero was amazed.
It was an agglomeration of every moment they had spent together, every public battle, every nighttime-shady-alley encounter.
There was only one reason to collect these momentos, these reminders. It had all meant something to the villain.
The complete lack of kernels on the carpet certainly pointed to a level of dedication and commitment to this scheme.
Maybe, they were hoping it meant something to the hero, too.
Another scene zoomed out a final time, revealing all the markers spread across the city. Only, now, Hero noticed, a rather distinct pattern had formed.
Villain moved like a phantom, appearing again, this time at the hero’s side. The ropes at their wrists fell away like magic while Hero gazed at the awkwardly hovering villain. They presented the hero with a glittering object hung from a chain held loose around their fingers. It was a large ruby gem, expertly cut into the shape of a 3-D heart.
Stolen, no doubt, Hero suspected possibly from the large jewelry exhibition that had just entered town.
The screen flashed bright, and lit up the hero’s face as it contorted in surprise. They processed the scene as fast as they could.
A heart of red markers, a heart of ruby, a heart fluttering in their chest, a heart laid open in front of them.
“Oh,” Hero breathed, “Oh.”
Villain sucked in a breath.
This was it, this was the moment they got rejected because they couldn’t-
“I had no idea.”
Of course they didn’t know, it’s not like Villain had ever spoken about it.
Preparing automatically for the rejection, Villain started to withdraw their hand, cold-as-steel demeanor returning to them with all the familiarity of a security blanket.
It was so stupid of them to think that they deserved any kind of reciprocation, so stupid to think that the hero could possibly-
The hero snatched the charm from their fingers before they fully withdrew.
“I didn’t say no,” they spoke softly, and the villain’s heart skipped a beat.
They reached out their other hand, wrapping their fingers over the still-outstretched hand of the villain. Instead of elaborating, Hero pulled the frozen criminal closer, connecting their lips in a gentle proclamation.
Actions spoke louder than words anyway.
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This is a super short (550-ish words) snippet from the maxiel hockey au I got 30k into before life got in the way. I’ll probably never finish it, so have this random scene. For context, Daniel is staying at Max’s home because he has an ankle injury and the only bedroom at his own place had stairs.
Daniel hears Max before he sees him. Based on the frantic pounding down the stairs, you’d think Max was being chased by a fucking murderer.
“Daniel,” the shadowy figure in Daniel’s doorframe says in a shaky, frantic voice. Daniel hasn’t kept his door shut since the cats first started scratching at it and demanding to be let in, and he briefly wonders in the recesses of his sleep-addled mind if Max has ever Edward from Twilighted him and just watched him sleep.
“Hmmph?” Daniel manages. His brain is thick and sluggish through the foggy, sleep haze surrounding it. He tries to prop himself up on one elbow and immediately fails.
“There’s a spider in my room,” Max hisses, as if he’s scared the spider might somehow hear him and immediately attack. “Can you come kill it?”
“I am not walking up stairs right now,” Daniel groans. It was a brutal PT session, and he spent half his afternoon with his ankle wrapped in ice and elevated. Plus, he’s not exactly fond of spiders either.
“I can’t sleep in there,” Max says, and Daniel wants so badly to make fun of him, but there’s an edge of real panic in his voice. Also, Daniel is even more scared of far more embarrassing shit, so he’d never win.
“Stay in here,” Daniel says, reaching an arm behind him to flop at the empty space. “Plenty of room.”
Max only hesitates for a second before crawling in. “Are you sure?” he asks, like he isn’t already sticking his cold toes against Daniel for warmth.
“The terrors will probably kill the spider by morning for us,” Daniel says, letting his head drop back onto his pillow.
“Jimmy and Sassy are not terrors. It’s not nice how you talk about them,” Max says primly as a crash echoes from somewhere upstairs. Daniel doesn’t dignify him with a response.
He feels Max’s weight settle behind him, and a hand reaches out as his eyes drift back shut and lightly caresses his exposed shoulder. “Thank you, Daniel.”
In the morning, Daniel wakes up to find Max curled in a ball around a pillow he somehow stole from under Daniel’s head, quietly letting out cute little snores. Sassy is lying content on the floor nearby with half a dead spider dangling out her mouth.
“That’s your problem to collect and throw away,” he tells a sleeping Max. He’s got freckles on his shoulders, Daniel notices, a whole constellation of them decorating the broad, pale canvas.
He fights the urge to trace the space between them and instead collects Max’s morning Red Bull from the fridge. He leaves it to drip condensation on the bedside table closest to Max’s pillow-creased face, next to a little note that Daniel is out for his morning walk.
Max texts him twenty minutes in to his stroll.
Max Verstappen: thanks for the red bull. okay if i stay again if we don’t find the spider? It was huge.
Daniel gnaws at his cuticle, contemplating his response for half a second. It’s not like he has proof that spider was the one Max saw. Sassy probably got rid of the evidence, so he can’t ask. He doesn’t want to make Max sleep in a room that makes him anxious.
Daniel Ricciardo: Of course. Better to be safe. That spider could be deadly.
Max Verstappen: Need your Australian powers to scare it off
Daniel Ricciardo: 🤺🤺🤺
When he opens the kitchen bin later that day, he sees the body of the spider sitting on the top.
“Crazy girl. You learned how to open the bin,” he coos to Sassy, aiming for a head scratch she runs away from and pretending he doesn’t see the very human tissue wrapped around the remains.
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Angelic Alastor AU
"Al!"
The angel turned to the voice and the sound of flapping wings just in time to see the two Archangels land behind him. The smaller of the two- with porcelain skin, rosy cheeks and an otherworldly beauty, bounded towards him full of energy. Golden eyes peered up at him as he spoke.
"Just finished with our spar, and Michael said he loved the hat! I told you it was a good idea!", Lucifer spoke, deep chuckles seeming to brighten the area by its mere presence. He punctuated his words by adjusting the top hat on his head, replacing the usual golden crown, a prideful smile on his face.
"Your brothers clearly love you too much.", Alastor snipes before facing the taller angel, and giving a polite bow. "Your Highness."
Michael gives a solemn nod, adorning a small soft smile. "Always good to see you, Altruist. I had ample time before my next meeting, so I figured I'd accompany my brother on his way to your little appointment."
Michael bore nearly identical features to his younger brother, possessing the same blonde locks, white skin, and golden eyes, albeit being considerably taller. What he lacked, falling a bit behind Lucifer's beauty, he made up for with his dignified grace, a regal authority that rivalled no other. He reminded Alastor of a frozen tundra amidst the plans for the creation of life, as precise as every detail on each snowflake.
"Very well that you did, your Grace, as your brother appears to need it quite a lot."
"It was ONE time! And your directions were very unclear!"
"I fail to see how 'meet me at the gates' translates to 'circle the entirety of heaven for 3 hours', my friend."
"There are a lot of gates in heaven! No matter! They just finished constructing the new nebula! We gotta check it out Alastor! Come on!", Lucifer said, practically bouncing on his feet in excitement and circling the other in flight before dashing off in a burst of speed.
Michael let out a rare chuckle as Alastor sighed in seeming annoyance.
"Always so sprightly, makes me wonder how you keep up with it all, Altruist.", the Archangel spoke, stepping to stand beside the red eyed angel.
"Trust me Sire, its tempting not to follow.", Alastor replied, deadpan as he set his gaze to the direction the Morningstar set off on. Left alone with the other Archangel, without Lucifer with him, Alastor couldn't help but feel a bit insecure. Shuffling his mismatch wings, he subtly moved the upper white set to cover the red and black wings below, his hold on his cane, tightening ever so slightly, though not enough for Michael to notice.
Michael smiled, finding no offense whatsoever from Alastor's words and the casualty of his jabs towards Lucifer. Despite his words, Michael could see the fondness Alastor possessed for the shorter angel, clear as day. Alastor was powerful, only ranking below the Archangels themselves in sheer strength, and would be of higher standing if not for his reclusive nature.
He always wore a smile wherever he went, but it was different for Lucifer, softer, fuller. Alastor shied away from any interaction with his angelic kind, but fully welcomes Lucifer's presence, seeking it, even. It was without a doubt that Alastor cared for his younger brother, his loyalty and selflessness when it came to the younger angel was palpable, fitting of his title, and for that, he had Michael's complete and utter respect.
"But you will, you always do.", Michael turned to face the angel, golden eyes meeting peculiar red. "Its why I trust you with his life."
Its a bit ridiculous perhaps, considering Lucifer was far more powerful than Alastor could ever be, but in the end, it mattered little. Alastor held his brother's heart, and Michael could guess it rang true vice versa.
Alastor's smile froze on his face, his sharp tongue silent as he gazed into the Archangel. A bout of silence passed, broken only by the Morningstar barreling back into Alastor at high speed.
"Alastor come on slow-wings! Hah! Get it? Slow? Wings? Come on, its hilarious, lets goooo!!", Lucifer bounced, gripping at the taller angel's arm, making a show of pulling him along. Evidently he didn't use much force, seeing as how Alastor wasn't immediately carried off, but it was enough to drag the angel rather quickly still.
"Later Michael!", the star spoke with a cheerful wave, before speeding off, dragging a squawking Alastor behind him as the other hastily flapped his mismatched wings, as he struggled to keep up.
Michael smiled at the scene, before turning to leave for his meeting.
Protect his heart, Alastor, it's all I ask of you.
_________________________
The wind roughly brushed the trees around them, as 3 pairs wings fluttered to land, every flap bringing forth powerful gusts. Michael surveyed the area as he went down to Earth, a mossy swamp littered with fireflies, blues and greens seeming to glow under the night sky. He wrenched his eyes down. He couldn't bear to look at a star right now, not after....
He shook the thought away, marching to look for the angel he was looking for. He'd been searching for hours, burning through the whole day. Alastor truly was a recluse, he was impossible to locate when he didn't want to be found. This was the last place he didn't look yet. They'd let Alastor design these swamps, letting him have at least a little hand in the creation of Earth despite his numerous refusals.
There at the edge, he could see him, standing at the edge of the water, mismatched wings cocooning him, the white set covering his entirety until his black wings were nearly out of sight.
"Altruist."
Alastor remained silent, his back to the Archangel. It was perhaps the most disrespectful thing Alastor's ever done to him, what with all his usual obsession with propriety.
"Altruist.", he called again, voice growing desperate, frustrated.
Still, there was no answer.
Michael clenched his teeth, the day's proceedings catching up to him, leaving him with far, far too many emotions.
"Alastor-"
"Don't."
Alastor's voice was cold, an icy tone that rivalled his own. It made Michael angry, frustrated and bitter. Can't Alastor see that he's hurting too? That he's also grieving?
"I lost him too, Alastor."
His voice was filled with emotion he wouldn't dare name. He had to be strong and steady for his brothers, for the rest of heaven. Im front of Alastor though? In matters regarding Lucifer? There was no one Michael could relate to more.
So why can't Alastor see? Did he think this was easy for Michael?! He lost his brother too! He's not the only one suffering!
But deep inside, Michael knew. It wasn't the same. He knew how deep the bond between Alastor and Lucifer ran, perhaps deeper than he ever had with his brother.
Michael's heart was already given to Heaven as a whole, but Alastor's only belonged to one.
"Tell me Michael, whose life did you entrust to me, again?", Michael felt ice crawl up his spine, his heart growing heavier with each word. Alastor spun around, unfurling his wings to face the Archangel. His crimson eyes were redder than usual.
"How, pray tell, am I supposed to do what you asked, when you cast down the one I was supposed to protect? Tell me how can I protect him from the fiery pits you all threw him into? How, am I supposed to GO ON WITHOUT-!"
'Without them', he almost said. No, he couldn't be reckless, couldn't let his emotions get the better. They couldn't know about his own relations with Lilith, he promised the two he'd stay safe. No matter how much it ached, he couldn't go against them.
Michael furrowed his brows in understanding, letting the accusations wash over him. If it were anyone else, he'd have already smote them down for the audacity, but this was Alastor. This was the angel who held his brother's heart; angry and emotional and dreadfully loyal to the star even now. If anything, in respect for his brother, he could endure this.
Schooling his expression, he'd gaze back at the fuming angel before him, his face a blank slate.
"Lucifer's actions were reckless and destructive, with severe consequences. His reckless disobedience, his affiliation with the first woman, its shattering the very foundation of order we worked so hard to maintain. Such crimes cannot go unpunished."
His voice was cold, adopting the mask of a ruthless prince. Right now, he wasn't a brother, he was Michael, Sword of Justice, Protector of Heaven. He had to learn to separate each title, it was the only way to ensure he did his role right. He can't be a brother right now. He won't, not for this.
He wishes it made it hurt less.
As emotionally compromised as he was, Alastor couldn't mask the pain in his face as he squeezed his eyes shut at Michael's tone, knowing he was now speaking to a soldier, not a friend. The sight of it almost made Michael want to break down the mask. Almost. Not nearly enough to actually do so. He was able to bear casting down his own brother, this was nothing.
The thought sent another pang to his heart, and he pushed it to the back of his mind.
"I love him too..", his voice was low, resigned, all energy leaving him as he looked away from the angel before him. Michael was so so tired. "It had to be done."
The swaying of the leaves and the buzz of nearby fireflies were the only things breaking the deafening silence. Now that he thought about it, didn't Lucifer help make these? Little bursts of light flying amidst a darkened swamp...
Why must everything hurt Michael today?
He heard the other take a deep breath, and turned to see the other adopt a smile. It didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Thank you for your visit, your Highness. You may take your leave now."
Alastor always smiled, even when he didn't mean it, but none of those ever felt as wrong as this one.
"Alas-"
Michael cut off his own words at the other's glare. Alastor's eyes glowed a deep red, his sclera giving its own crimson glow. His glowing wings seemed to curl closer around him. All this while still keeping on that damned smile. It was uncomfortable. It served little to intimidate someone as powerful as Michael, but this wasn't about power.
He's never seen Alastor look so broken.
He may be set apart from the other angels, but he always looked so happy with Lucifer.
......but Lucifer isn't here anymore, is he?
Suppressing a sigh, Michael kept his voice level. ".....Altruist."
Alastor's smile only seemed to widen, contrasting with how his wings curled tighter around himself in a cocoon.
"I wish to be alone. Now.", the deceptively cheerful tone made Michael sick.
Without another word Michael turned around. There was no fixing this. Alastor looked as though a single action would cause him to flee. If Michael didn't take his leave, he'd have left anyway. All Alastor wanted was Lucifer, and Lucifer was condemned in Hell. There's nothing he could do.
As he spread out his wings, he took one last glance at Alastor's smiling face, before taking off, ignoring the muffled sounds of sobbing he left in his wake.
It was the last time he's ever seen Alastor smile.
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