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shaehey · 4 years

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Your Halcyon Heart - Pt. 2

Read part one here

“You fractured a rib? Again?” As expected, his manager wasn’t pleased. “How?”

Wren grimaced. “Two actually,” he said, holding the phone up to his ear. “It was a rock-climbing accident.” He was proud of himself for that lie. It was much better than trying to claim that he’d fallen off his roof for the third time.

“You don’t rock climb,” Meghan said, voice low with suspicion.

“Hey, I could!” He protested, a little offended. Sure, he didn’t get out a lot. But he was interesting enough to be a rock climber. He could do cool things, theoretically. “But… you’re right. I don’t, normally. Which is why I fell.” Another good lie. Impenetrable logic. He was on a roll today.

“On your ribs?”

He nodded. “They hit a rock.”

Meghan’s sigh, low and tired, crackled through the speakers. Guilt kicked in his stomach. “I can still work,” Wren said, quieter. “I mean, my ribs hurt, but that’s nothing a bit of ibuprofen can’t fix.”

“I hope so. Wren, they’re-“ She stopped, another sigh breaking through the line. She didn’t sound like her usual fiery self. “The fans are getting impatient, and the producers are really breathing down our necks to get this done. We can’t delay the new season any longer. Just, please, stay healthy.”

“I will,” he said, wincing. He hated hearing Meghan sound so defeated. She had helped him so much over the years, and put up with so much of his shit and excuses over the years. He owed her so much. “I’ll be careful.”

“Please do.” Then, with a bit of the usual fire in her voice: “Or Hyperion will look like a harmless ladybug compared to me.”

Wren laughed, feeling better, but for the next week he couldn’t shake a deep guilt that itched beneath his skin. He wanted to be a good hero. He wanted to be a good voice actor. But he couldn’t find the time to truly succeed at either, and lately he was left feeling as if he was half-assing them both.

His general mood wasn’t helped by the fact that Karma knew his identity.

Wren wasn’t an idiot. Just because he’d had one pleasant interaction with a villain didn’t mean that he was safe. Super villains weren’t exactly known for their trustworthy nature.

But with two fractured ribs, Karma laying completely low since the art heist, and a season of Starstruck that needed to finished, what else was there to do but go to the studio every day and work?

Besides, it was nice to finally push through the undone work that had been piling up. With every session, he could see the Starstruck team get a little less tense, breathe a little easier as they came closer to finishing. So long as he didn’t look at the news, didn’t see the tragedies that he could have prevented if only he’d been out there, he could pretend like things were okay. Yes, everything was fine.

He only lasted a week before he was dragging his hero costume out of the closet.

● ● ●

Wren didn’t have a problem with people breaking into banks or sabotaging wealthy monopolies, he really didn’t, but could they at least make sure that innocent people were safely out of the way before staging their attacks? If one more villain announced they were a modern-day robin hood before doing shit that risked the lives of uninvolved bystanders, Wren was going to burn something.

All Robin Hoodie had to do was check the area beforehand and make sure that people would easily be able to escape. But no, apparently that was too much work, so now Wren had to rise to the occasion by helping tellers and guests to an exit before the entire bank went up in a very unpleasant explosion.

Every step sent a spike of pain through his ribs. He ignored it. He only had one more rooms to check, and then he could leave.

The last thing that he expected to see was a familiar cloaked figure sitting beneath a teller’s desk, head bowed and hair uncharacteristically disheveled. Wren blinked. No one had mentioned that Karma was here- not the news outlets, not the radios, not even Robin Hoodie during his grand monologue- and Wren hadn’t seen even a single one of Karma’s goons bustling about. It didn’t make sense for him to be here, especially not alone and injured. “What are you doing here?”

Karma’s head jerked up, eyes narrowing into a glare. “What are you doing here?” He asked, jaw tight. “I told you to stay home.” He jabbed his finger the ground. “It’s barely been a week!”

Unsurprisingly, Karma was less than happy to see his favorite voice actor out in the field yet again. But what was the villain going to do about it? Kill him? Wren didn’t think so. The delay it would cause in Starstruck’s production would be awful. He shook his head. “Uh uh,” he sang, clicking his tongue. “I asked first.”

Karma exhaled, slumping into himself, a gloved hand keeping pressed against his stomach. It shined in the light, wet with blood. “What does it look like I’m doing?” He whispered.

Wren flicked his eyes over Karma, taking in the injury, the lack of color on the villain’s skin. “Sitting on the floor, bleeding.” The villain needed stitches and care, but here he was, alone and pale in a room that would soon be turned to rubble.

Karma nodded, resting his back against the desk. “There’s your answer,” he said. “Now, what are you doing here?” He demanded. “If Starstruck gets delayed again, I’ll, I’ll…!” The villain didn’t seem to know where to from there, the outrage seeming to drain from his body. He looked away then, hand pressing more tightly to his stomach. “Be very upset.”

“Well,” Wren began, keeping his voice light as he stepped forward. “I was saving civilians,” he said, crossing the space between them. “But now I guess I’m saving you.” Gently, he put Karma’s free arm across his shoulders. The villain didn’t resist, only hissed in pain when Wren pulled him to his feet. “Sorry.”

“But… why?” Karma wouldn’t stop frowning, even as he leaned his weight into Wren’s.

Wren was kind enough to pretend that he didn’t hear the slight wobble in the villain’s voice. “Well, I can’t let Starstruck’s number one fan die in an explosion, can I?”

Karma froze, back tense, and then relaxed. Wren could almost swear that there was a faint blush on Karma’s face. “Thank you.” It was barely more than a whisper.

#are you ever in the middle of writing something #and then realize you've actually reached the end of the scene??#that's what happened here #I'm not really sure where this story is going but I'm excited to find out #I just want them to be silly and flirt but apparently this is happening first #Your Halcyon Heart

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shaehey · 4 years

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Being a full-time voice actor and renegade hero was impossible work.

Villainy never happened at a convenient time. If Wren pretended to be sick halfway through a recording session one more time, he was 99% sure that his manager was going to strangle him. Still, even if he was perpetually in trouble and didn’t have time to eat anything more complicated than a pop tart, it was worth it. There was nothing so fulfilling as getting to save the lives of people, to truly do good, and then play up the camp to voice the silver-tongued Hyperion for the hit TV show Starstruck.

A hero voicing a cartoon villain. He couldn’t stop snickering if he thought about it for too long. His life was full of ironies, all of them horribly funny. His favorite was the fact that one of the city’s villains, Karma, obviously took inspiration from the fictional villain by wearing a cloak of constellations and keeping his hair tied in a silver ribbon.

Unfortunately, as the torso of a marble statue crashed into Wren and pinned him to the museum floor, the hero didn’t feel like laughing. He gasped for air, and hissed through his teeth as he recognized the too-familiar feeling of a broken rib. God, how was he going to explain this to his co-workers? ‘Oh, I fell down the stairs. Clumsy me. Anyway Meghan, how are the kids?’ only worked so many times.

He squinted at the ceiling and wiggled, testing the weight of the stone, before going still with another painful exhale. The marble wasn’t terribly heavy, but he wasn’t going to be able to move it, not when his bones felt hollow and whole body felt bruised. He regretted not getting more rest before rushing into battle. But, well, when was there time?

Karma’s footsteps clicked as he approached, and Wren dizzily tried to wrap his mind around the fact that he could very possibly die at the hands of a Starstruck fan.

He tried to summon fire, to pull it to his hands, but all he got was a flicker that smoked from his fingers. Fuck. He should have left after evacuating the last of the museum visitors. Tying the day up by catching the villain was nice, but he was starting to suspect it was rarely worth the hospital bill.

If he survived this, he was definitely going to have to build up his endurance and try harder to make time for sleep. Getting this worn out only twelve minutes into a fight was ridiculous. Unacceptable. Heartbreaking. Even if that villain was someone as crafty as Karma.

If there was one comfort, it was seeing that Karma’s mask was singed at its edges and that there was sweat in his curly hair. Wren smiled, unable to resist quoting the show he worked on. “Nice mask, Goldie.” It didn’t come out right, his throat closing on the sentence as he dissolved into a cough.

Karma paused, grey eyes staring down. “Your impression is atrocious.”

“Hey!” Wren protested with a painful laugh. The irony was unbearable. “Give me a break. You nearly punctured my lungs.” He could hardly be expected to do his best work with a statue resting on his chest.

Karma didn’t offer a smile in return. Instead, the villain placed the tip of his rapier on Wren’s throat. It was so old fashioned. If Wren closed his eyes and pretended like he couldn’t hear the museum alarms, he could almost pretend like he was in a pirate film. “Do you know how many paintings you’ve burned trying to stop me?” Karma asked, voice laced with something that sounded like irritation, even as his teeth bared into a smile. “Some of those were genuine masterpieces. Give me one reason why I should let you live.”

Wren rolled his eyes. “Because murder is bad, obviously.” A muscle in the villian’s jaw tensed, and his arm began to shift. Fear, sharper than the sword at his neck, pierced through Wren’s casual facade. “Wait, wait!” He protested, fingers sliding against the floor as he tried to scurry backwards. He took a breath, heartbeat in his ears.

He knew exactly how to appeal to Karma, but was he really going to say it? He hadn’t even thought of what the repercussions might be, what all he was risking- but he didn’t have time. Karma’s eyebrows were raising again. “I’m a voice actor,” Wren managed, the words stumbling from his lips. “I play Hyperion in Starstruck. We’re recording season three. If I die, they won’t be able to produce any more episodes.”

The sword tip dropped from his throat, twisting to the side as Karma sighed. “You truly expect me to believe that?” He asked, sounding tired.

There was only one way to prove it. And now that Wren had gotten a chance to catch his breath, it wasn’t going to be difficult. “You truly expect me to believe that?” He parroted, dipping his voice down into the smooth cadence of Hyperion.

“You- You’re-“ Karma breathed as he took a step back, mouth parted and rapier held at his side. Then, unexpectedly, he frowned, fingers tightening on the sword’s handle. “Is that why there’s so many hiatuses?”

Oof. That stung. “Hey, you try being a hero and voice actor at the same time,” Wren bit back, finally hefting the statue off of him. He winced at the sound of its face cracking against the floor. The art world was going to be pissed. “Very difficult.”

Karma’s lips twitched into a smile, showing a sliver of teeth. “I don’t think any law-enforcement would categorize you as a hero.”

“Bah.” Wren waved off the comment. When his goal of protecting people occasionally came at the expense of destroyed property, it was hardly a surprise-

The mask was torn off of Wren’s head. “Hey, what the hell?!” He demanded.

“I had to make sure you were telling the truth,” Karma said with a smug grin, offering the mask back. At least the cameras had been cut before Karma and his group of goons had staged their heist. “Can’t fault me for that.”

“How do you know-” Suddenly, it snapped into place. “Wait, you’ve been to one of my panels at con, haven’t you?”

“…No.” Karma wouldn’t look at him. Wren’s smile widened.

“You have! Do you have my autograph? Admit it.”

“No,” Karma said, too fast for Wren to believe him for a moment. “I’m not- listen. I’m… shit.” Normally, the villain was nothing but cool, calm, and collected. It was nice to see him pacing and cussing. “I can’t believe I’m about to do this,” he said to himself, rubbing his mouth. “I’m going to let you live.”

“That’s nice,” Wren noted, sitting up. He winced. Yup, something was definitely fractured.

“However.” Very rudely, Karma pointed his rapier at Wren, the tip aimed at his nose. “Don’t play hero until you’ve finished recording for the new season. And by god, keep yourself alive. If your death delays the new season again, by god, I’ll kill you myself.”

Wren clearly wasn’t going to be doing much with a fractured rib, but the idea of sitting at home doing nothing, when he could be saving a life, rankled. Obviously, once he was healed, staying home wasn’t going to happen. He was wise enough not to say as much. “That’s very impossible of you,“ he observed instead.

“That’s not the-” Karma began, before seeming to catch himself and steady. “I’m capable of many impossible things,” he promised.

For a moment, Wren thought he could hold it in, but the laughter bubbled up anyway with a helpless snort. And somehow, unbelievably, Karma began to as well, his laughter a soft puff of air.

He couldn’t help but notice that there was something beautiful about Karma’s smile when it was genuine. “You can leave through the back with me,” Karma said, offering Wren his hand. “It won’t be crowded with police, and we’ve got a first-aid kit.”

Wren looked at the villain’s outstretched palm, and took it, pulling himself to his feet. He had the feeling that this was the start of an equally impossible friendship, and he couldn’t help the lightness in his step.

●●●

Read part two here

●●●

@write-it-motherfuckers

Villain: Give me one reason why I should let you live.

Hero: Because I’m secretly the voice actor for the main character of your favourite show, and if you kill me they’ll never be anymore episodes!

Villain:….

Villain: Is that why there’s so many Hiatuses?!!?!

Submitted by @thegoofyseadragon

#Heyo everyone I am v new to writeblr hello!!#My first post how exciting #Ngl up until now I've always thought it was poptart not pop tart. I've been lied to #Spoiler: these two dorks end up dating. It's very cute.#Now time for helpful tags #Writeblr #Prose #my writing #Prompt inspired #superheroes #sorta #Shaehey writes #heroes and villains #Your Halcyon Heart

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