#laugh as i shove the stick higher up your ass then how bout it

[koishua]

my mom sitting there nodding along to my very emotional retelling of how i was chased by my classmate (actually my crush but she doesn't have to know that) who kept shoving a dead lizard in my face in ninth grade

[tae-cup]

A Mile in My Shoes | KSJ Oneshot

Pairing: Platonic!Seokjin x Reader

Summary: You hate Kim Seokjin, that arrogant bastard, and he hates you just as much...right?

Genre: Body swap!au, enemies to friends, Fluff, angst, Solo artist!Seokjin, Solo Artist!Reader

Warnings: N/A 

Rating: PG, content wise, teen for language

Word Count: 9k words

Network: @castlebangtan​

A/N: Yay! 100 followers celebration finale!!! Thank you everyone! I’ve got some other stuff cooking as well so hopefully I’ll be more active! 

Other: Masterlist

Kim Seokjin. You hate Kim Seokjin. Why? Well, it was sort of his fault. 

           The flashing lights of the award ceremony, the buzz of the crowd, the packed audience, did nothing to subtract your attention from the person on stage. With a bedazzled white t-shirt and violet purple hair, Kim Seokjin sang on stage. His charisma was no doubt exquisite and his singing technique was divine...but he was a total ass. 

            It suited him, being the number one pop star in the past year; and he was still growing. He was a prideful creature and had been sweeping the award shows, your awards being stolen from right out under you. You were sure that he was out for you ever since the misunderstanding a few years ago. 

          You weren’t actually sure why he still hated you. You had worked your ass off to try and fix what was wrong, but he had ignored you. So, technically, the feud that continued was childish and completely his fault.

            Alright, maybe you fed into it a little, but you were still annoyed and quite honestly tired of it. Jin was a handsome man. His personality was anything but. 

           You rolled your eyes as Jin did a hip thrust, to the screams of his fans. The cameras were still focusing on you throughout the experience, your feud well known. He came right up to the edge of the stage and looked you in the eyes as he spoke.

“Did you see my bag? Did you see my bag? My bag’s filled with trophies. How you think bout that? How you think bout that? Haters are already giving up. My success is already so golden-”

            You tuned him out, a small fire of rage boiling in the pit of your stomach. Why was he still holding onto this stupid feud? If anything was clear, Kim Seokjin hated you, and you hated Kim Seokjin. 

             The after party was a nightmare. You sat at the bar, drink sloshing around lazily in the glass. Heavy bass drummed against your frame. Kim Seokjin was the center of attention, his broad shoulders and puffy lips high above the crowd. 

“How are you feeling, Y/N?” A reporter shoved a microphone into your face. 

              You groaned, not responding. You had a terrible conscience. If someone asked you a question, you felt obligated to answer truthfully, maybe that’s what got you into this mess. It was just easier if you kept quiet. The last thing you wanted was to add onto the feud even more. 

              Seokjin surveyed you out of the corner of his eyes. You always stole the spotlight, even when he had swept the awards. You were still the one getting interviewed the most, getting the most press. They all wanted to know your reaction. He hated you for that. At the same time, he admired your self restraint. 

“Jin, what do you think about winning all the awards you were nominated for?” A reporter appeared. The broad shouldered man waved to the security. 

“Who let paparazzi in?” He muttered under his breath as the reporters were escorted out. 

               A part of Jin really missed being a newer artist, like you. He couldn’t just write and produce his own songs anymore, he had a team for that. Everything needed to be approved by the higher ups and he always had to be happy. Meanwhile, you had made a name for yourself by saying what you wanted and making the music you wanted. Sure, you didn’t win awards, but at least you had that freedom. And he was jealous of that. 

               He brushed away the revelation and weaved his way through the crowd. The party had died down a little and his little posse had trickled out. His little gang of friends had left or were doing something else. 

               Taehyung was with Jungkook ordering and consuming copious amounts of food. Namjoon and Yoongi, well known producers, were huddled over a notebook and whispering lyrics to each other. Hoseok and Jimin had each gone home early.

              Hoseok claimed he needed to practice, being the main dancer for Taehyung, and Jimin claimed he needed to check on his pets. You were sitting alone at the bar, ready to fall asleep, but your night wouldn’t be complete if you didn’t have a run in with Jin. 

“Drowning your sorrows?” Jin plopped into a seat, leaning against the bar with a smug smile. 

“Who says I’m drowning? I’m doing just fine.” You threw back the last sips of the drink. 

              He eyed the empty glasses littering the counter. The bartender was slowly going through and cleaning them up. Jin was a little worried, but he...he didn’t like you, as a person. You were self centered and hypocritical, but perhaps he was the same. 

“How many of those have you had?”

“Unimportant.” You gestured for the bartender to pour another and the man looked warily at you. 

“I think you should stick to water, miss.” The bartender smiled gently. 

“Nah.” You shouted, not realizing how loud your voice was. “Just do your job and pour another.” 

           Jin sighed and put a hand over your glass, gently peeling your fingers back. “No, he’s right.” He said sternly and handed the glass back to the bartender, who looked thankful. 

“You’re an asshole, Jin. Just let me be sad without gloating for once.” You deflated, slouching in your seat. He scoffed and looked away. 

“You’re just being a sore loser. I won every category I was nominated for. How many categories did you even get nominated for, let alone win?” He bit back, drumming his fingers on the table. 

“Fuck you.” You pointed at him, finger pressed hard against his chest.

          Then you stood from your seat, shouldering your bag, and stormed out. Your phone pinged with unseen messages, all from your manager. 

           Jin rolled his eyes, but he did regret his words slightly. It had been so long, he wasn’t even sure why he was mad at you anymore. Why were you in a feud with him anyway? The man checked his phone. Three schedule reminders popped up and he grimaced. It was already 1 A.M. and he needed to be awake in five hours. He stood and bowed, saying his goodbyes to his friends, and leaving the bar. 

             He waited outside for his driver to pull around the block. It was quiet, the muffled pounding of the bass inside the bar leaked out. He wished he had your guts once in a while, to just say what he wanted. He wished he could be like you, just for a moment.

             A light streaked across the sky, a comet passing by. His eyes widened in awe as the meteor shower began. It was...beautiful. 

-

             Meanwhile, you were lazing drunkenly over the window sill in your living room. The house was dark, the curtains open to allow for moonlight to trickle through. Some may be scared of the dark, but you always liked it. The peace of being alone, surrounded by nothing to distract you except your mind was appealing to you. Why? Who knew. You ran your finger along the dusty window sill. 

You glanced at your phone. Your agent had messaged several times. 

Why didn’t you win anything, huh?

Next time, you better win an award or…

They’re going to pull you from the label. 

They thought you were going to be big, Y/N. It’s such a shame.

So many people were rooting for you. Maybe in another life.

            You groaned and powered off your phone. How annoying. Your career was going down the drain, you had followers, but your music wasn’t getting the right platforms. It seemed that no matter how much you tried to get recognized, no one else cared. Your only worth was your feud with Seokjin. 

“Goddamnit, Jin. Would you lend me just a bit of fame? Just a little? Let me breathe, give me a break.” You hissed under your breath.

            You took a few steps back and collapsed onto your mattress. The meteor shower began, the brilliant streaks of white lit up the sky. It felt like the world was laughing at you, blessing you with such a beautiful sky on the worst night of your life. 

             This was not his house. Jin sat up straight. He felt different for sure, but then again, he did drink a bit last night. The man stood, wobbling slightly. How much did I drink? He thought, stumbling to the bathroom. Did he catch a ride with someone? He didn’t remember much. What did he do? 

“Hello?” He called out hoarsely, only to yelp in surprise. 

             His voice was high. High and female, definitely not his voice. It was also...familiar. Jin threw open the door to the bathroom hurriedly. He rushed to the mirror, only to shriek in surprise. 

              That’s not my face….OH MY GOD THAT’S NOT MY FACE. He internally screamed, stumbling back. You were staring back at him. He rubbed his arms and looked down at his body. He felt his cheeks heating up. Yup, this was...this was a woman’s body. But how?

                He slapped his hands over his cheeks. His face, his beautiful face! Okay, so that was a little vain. Jin studied himself. No, You were certainly...not hard to look at, that was for sure. He patted down his body. Then there was a ring from the bedside table and he vaulted over to pick it up. Your phone was ringing, his number flashing boldly. 

“Y/N?” He whispered. 

“Oh my fucking god, seokjin, what did you do this time?” His voice hissed over the line. 

“This has to be a nightmare. Oh god, please wake up.” He cried slapping his face. 

“Hey! Don’t ruin the merchandise!” You shouted. 

                 Then another realization hit him. You could ruin his career. He needed to accept that this was happening and get his priorities straight. You were in his body. You had all the power...and you hated him. 

“Nice clothes, Jin.” Your sarcastic drawl crackled through the speaker. Even he could hear it, despite it being his own voice. 

“They’re all custom fit.” He bragged, marching over to your closet. “What do you have in here? Trash? Oh, this could easily pass as a paper bag. Was beige in style when you picked it out?” He said snarkily, throwing some clothing behind him and onto the bed. He ignored your protests. 

“Jin! Get! Out! Of! My! Closet! Also you better not have touched my body you perv!” You shouted so loud that your voice broke off. 

“What? I’m just doing some reorganizing. Besides, you think I want to touch your body? You flatter yourself.” He said, throwing another beige item out of the closet. He pretended he didn’t hear you scolding him from over the phone. 

 “It’s like you only shop during fall and then go into hibernation.” He commented. “Which is likely, considering how many albums you’ve released.” He muttered, but oh boy had you heard him. 

“At this point, I don’t care, Jin.” You grumbled over the line. “I’m about to be dropped anyway.” 

              The beige sweater in his hands tumbled to the ground. Sure, he knew you had been struggling, but was it really that bad? He was at a loss for words. The man took a deep breath in. 

“Why?” He asked, concern evident. He slowly put down a pair of blue jeans. 

“I’m not as successful as they thought I would be.” You explained, defeat in your voice. “If I don’t win an award at the next show, I’ll be dropped. Also, why is Taehyung crashed on the couch?”

              His eyes widened. A lot of the group crashed at his mansion after a long night out. It was easier than driving them all to six different locations. 

“Shit.” He muttered. “Okay, just, just act normal, alright? I’ll be there soon and maybe we can explain this to them.” He whispered, hanging up and searching through your closet for a decent outfit. 

            This was not how you wanted your morning to go. You stood, dressed casually and waiting by the front door anxiously. Your arms were crossed and you tapped your foot. Taehyung stumbled around behind you. 

“So you’re telling me that you’re Y/N and not Jin?” He asked. 

“Yes.” You said shortly, having already explained it a million times. “You’ll see when he gets here.”

Taehyung took a seat at the counter, his blonde hair falling in waves around his face. He drummed his fingers on the marble surface. His dark eyes glanced you over. 

“How much did you drink last night, Jin? Are you feeling alright?”

“For the thousandth time, I’m Y/N, not Jin!” You huffed angrily. 

“Okay, okay, you’re Y/N then.” He held his hands up. “But just let me know when your little act is over, okay?” He winked. 

               You resisted the urge to scream in rage at his lack of understanding. With the twinkle in his eye and the mischievous look on his lips, you couldn’t tell if he was messing with you or genuinely not believing your story. Your lips twisted into a deep frown and you stalked over to him, ready to talk some sense into him when the door flung open. You turned around, face shifting. 

“Aish, a frown really doesn’t look pretty on my face.” A voice came from the doorway. Your voice. You were used to looking up at Jin, now you looked down. Was that really how you looked? You felt self conscious suddenly. 

“Are you trying to give me wrinkles before 30 or something?” Jin sighed, leaning against the door. “Besides, why didn’t you lock the door?”

“That’s my fault.” taehyung piped up, suspiciously looking between you. 

“Yah! Taehyung you really need to be more careful about that! What if someone tries to break in while I’m asleep! And technically, you’re breaking in.” Jin huffed. 

Taehyung’s eyes widened. “No way, that’s totally something Jin would say. Are you shitting me?” 

“I’ve been trying to explain this to you for the past 30 minutes, Taehyung.” You paced angrily. 

“It’s not breaking in if I have a key.” Taehyung smiled lazily, flashing the golden piece of metal. “But are you being serious? That you’ve...switched?” 

“Why else would I be talking to him.” You gestured to Jin with your head, annoyance staining your features. 

“This is why I don’t scowl.” Jin chimed in, walking over to you and smoothing out your face. “It looks awful.” His fingers brushed against your cheek. 

“Awful? I’m offended. This is my body you’re talking about.”

“Technically it’s mine. So don’t go commit arson or something while you’re in there.” Jin crossed his arms. 

“Trust me, I have bigger things to worry about and do.” You shot back. 

“Will you guys just shut up?” Taehyung slapped the counter, causing your attention to shift once more. “How the fuck are you guys going to change back? Jin, you have a million interviews this week about the awards show and Y/N has, I don’t know, songwriting to get to?” 

“Ah, fuck you to, Tae.” You frowned. 

“Am I wrong?”

“No.” You mumbled in response. 

“Anyway, I think I can fake it until we can figure this out.” You said, lifting your chin. “It won’t be too hard to act like a narcissistic ass who pretends not to be.” 

“Hey!” Jin shouted his protests. A ping from a cellphone caused you to jump. Jin recognized it and began to search his pockets before realizing he was you. 

              You seemed to get the memo and you pulled out the phone in your pocket. It buzzed with a calendar reminder. 

“An interview in an hour?” You said quietly. Then you dropped the phone onto the counter. “Oh my god, there’s an interview in an hour.” 

“It’s really weird to see such expressions on Jin’s face.” Taehyung mused. 

“Shit shit shit.” You, wait no, Jin said. “That’s the one to discuss the music in my album and talk about the awards show. Since it doesn’t seem like we’re going to solve this in an hour, don’t fuck it up.”

“Excuse me, it’s my album now and I will say what I like.” You pursed your lips. 

“I don’t expect you to understand the lyrics and songs in my album.”

“The lyrics written by your team of lyricists? Yeah, I won’t think twice about the meaning of ‘girl you look so fire’.” You air quoted. 

“You think you’re so much better because you write your own lyrics, huh? Well, it’s ridiculous. Stop trying to be an outsider when you’re very much in the public eye.” Jin stated, but his words held a ring of truth. 

                You were, indeed, very popular, why did you feel the need to be ‘special’ and pretend to be all unique and weird? It drove him mad and he counted it as another reason he disliked you. You didn’t respond to his statement, instead remaining silent. 

                Yes, you were fuming inside, but it was only because you felt like kicking yourself. There were so many times you had been offered premium spots, but you had turned it down, thinking it was too mainstream or times when you could have made a chart topping song and instead you chose the more casual songs. 

“Fine.” You admitted defeat. “I understand where you’re coming from. I’ll try my best not to fuck this up.” You said earnestly. “But in return, please just...don’t look through my desk.” 

“Why not?”

“It’s personal. Should there be another reason?” 

“Fine.”

“Do we have a deal?”

“Deal.”

            The interviewer was an idiot. He only ever asked you the most obvious of questions. There’s no depth or deeper meaning he’s looking for other than for you to gloat and cause more drama with...yourself. 

“You completely swept the show this year.” The man lightly clapped and you mimicked it. 

             You were already sweating under the pressure of the lights and the knowledge that you had to sound like Seokjin. Not only did you have to sound like Seokjin, but you also had to give the right answers. 

“That’s amazing. You’re one of the fastest growing artists of the century. It’s incredible, really. How does it feel, knowing that millions have their eyes on you?” 

              Suffocating. It’s so hard to breathe. Was this what it was like all the time? You almost felt bad for Jin, but at the same time you wanted to roll your eyes. The interviewer was just trying to butter you up so that you could spill any juicy secrets.

               Sadly, you don’t think he would buy the ‘I switched bodies with my arch nemesis and now we’re here.’ secret. 

                 Speaking of which, how did you get into this mess in the first place? And how were you going to get out of it? Was it something to do with your wish the other night? The meteor shower? But according to all the body swap movies you’d seen before, he must have wished for your life as well. Which seemed absurd. Why would the Kim Seokjin want to forfeit his life to body swap for some nobody artist like you? 

“It’s honestly such an honor, you know?” You tried your best to respond like him. You could almost see him face palming. “It’s surreal. I still can’t believe it’s happening.” You continued. “Everyone remember to stream Dynamite!” You plugged, flashing a dazzling smile. 

              It seemed to be the right move because the crowd went wild. 

“Now, Jin, you haven’t mentioned Awake, your latest song. I know Dynamite and Mic Drop have been huge successes, really, but Awake you rarely mention. Maybe you can give some insight into your thoughts behind the song? I know I want to know.” 

               Okay, maybe you were wrong. The interviewer was smart as shit. And now you had to analyze Jin’s lyrics. You had heard the song a couple times and it honestly wasn’t that bad. You could make something up and continue on with the interview. You remembered he mentioned once a while ago that it was completely written by himself, no lyricists, nada. So you supposed you should honor that. 

“As you know,” you started carefully. “Awake is one of the few songs completely written by me.” You kicked yourself for your wording, but forged onward. You took a deep breath, thinking for a moment.

 “It’s about...it’s about struggling with insecurities. I’ve always felt like my voice wasn’t good enough, my music would never make it, that I don’t cut it in the industry. I feared I would just be another pretty face stuck onto generic pop music.” You found yourself rambling, releasing some inner frustration you had in yourself. 

“Awake was my form of release. I pushed all my negative thoughts and energy into the song. My doubts, my fears, and what I long for. It speaks of my...my desperation to continue, even when I felt like things were bleak for me. Something inside told me to keep running, keep creating, and I did. That’s why I’m thankful I’m able to be where I am now.” You concluded. “And that’s why Awake is such a personal song to me.” 

               Obviously, a full lyrical and psychological breakdown of the song had not been what the interviewer was expecting, but he seemed pleased nonetheless. 

“Wow, so it must mean a lot to you?”

“Yeah.” You answered half heartedly, feeling emotionally drained from that speech. 

“So I heard from the daily idol that-”

                  His words muffled and you answered his questions monotonously. Why had you gone into so much detail? It was like a switch had been flipped. The lyrics weren’t bad. In fact, the song was good and you could see yourself easily sobbing over it, but it just had to be written by Jin. It was such a shame, yet at the same time, it showed that Jin could write meaningful lyrics if he wanted to.

                    The only reason he needed a lyricist team, you concluded, was pure greed and laziness. That only gave you more reason to dislike him, but, as the song said: My happy times asked me this question; You, are you really okay? it asked me. And after all of that, were you really okay with hating Kim Seokjin? 

Your phone pinged. You glanced down at the screen to see one text from Jin. 

Did you mean what you said?

                Jin was really hoping you hadn’t completely fucked his career. He was also hoping that your agent would stop texting you for one minute. Instead, he was bombarded with questions like ‘are you writing?’ ‘What are you doing to improve?’ ‘You better win more at the Grammys, got it?’ ‘Are you going to lose to Seokjin again?’ ‘Why aren’t you answering?’ 

                  He wanted to slam his head into a wall. Why would you ever put up with this? He mindlessly scrolled through earlier texts. At first, it seemed the relationship started off alright, but every now and then toxicity would come through on the agent’s part.

                   Soon enough, it just devolved into you not answering her texts and her berating you. From your attitude, however, her berating was as good as yelling at a wall. Even he knew that you wouldn’t budge. But...you loved your career. That was obvious enough. You loved your job, you loved making music. What would happen if that got taken away? 

                 Well, it wasn’t happening on his watch. He refused to be the reason you lost your job. So he did what he promised we wouldn’t. Jin searched your desk drawers. He had a feeling he knew what it was you were hiding, but he wanted to make sure. It was better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission in this case.

                 He rummaged around before he pulled out an old and tattered, leather bound, notebook. Inside were songs and lyrics dating all the way back to when you would have been in middle school. The handwriting got progressively messier, but your lyrics were...beautiful. 

                  As he read over them, he was swept into another world. From cloudy skies to hazy summer afternoons, he read through your journey. The songs were cheesy at first, but then they slowly delved into darker subjects. 

                 You wrote your mental health struggles, your relationship issues, your anger, everything was placed in this one leather notebook. It felt wrong to hold this much power, this much information, in his hands. Yet, they were technically your hands. Did he feel bad? Yes. Was he ever going to bring it up? No, because he valued his life. 

“Y/N? Open up, I’ve got to brief you on the photoshoot!” A voice shouted from the front door.

                 Jin looked up, startled, and gently placed the journal where he found it. Then he rushed to the door. 

“Who are you?” He barked. 

“It’s Lisa, who else? Now open the door, we don’t have a ton of time!” Her voice was hurried, so he reluctantly opened the door. 

“A photoshoot?” He breathed, confused. 

“Yes, the big photoshoot for your comeback. Did you hit your head or something? This is all you’ve been talking about for the past month.” The girl, Lisa, rolled her eyes. 

“More like switched bodies with my worst enemy.” He grumbled. 

                The blonde haired girl narrowed her eyes and he remembered his place. You were doing a good job at pretending to be him and it hadn’t even occurred to you, it seemed, to try and ruin his career. So the least he could do was to return the favor. 

“What?”

“Sorry, nevermind.” He waved it off. How did you usually act with people? He never could tell. You were always snarky with him, but after reading your lyrics and walking around in your body, you didn’t seem to carry yourself that way. 

“Well, as your agent, I really need you to get it together, alright?”

“You’re my agent?” He gaped. After seeing the way she treated you, it was all he could do to stop himself from rushing at her. 

               But he wouldn’t have the same strength he had when he was in his usual body. It was a little concerning how casual and easy it felt to be in another person’s body. It was like it was growing on him and he didn’t like it one bit. Jin was getting comfortable and the feeling of unease had been lost on him. 

“Indeed I am. Y/N, are you sure you’re alright?” 

“I’m fine. Really.” He managed. The man settled himself on the couch while Lisa went over the requirements. 

“So we’re looking here for a more mystical approach. I know it’s a lot different from your usual no nonsense approach, but this could be good in repainting your image and getting you into more drama. A little birdy told me Jin is doing the same concept, so hopefully you’ll attract some buzz.” 

“Shouldn’t I…” He wasn’t sure how you spoke or treated your agent, so he fought for the right words. “Shouldn’t I look into distancing myself from the Jin drama?”

             To his surprise, your agent furrowed her eyebrows. Lisa seemed appalled by this. 

“Y/N. We’ve been over this. Jin is keeping you relevant, keeping you in the public eye. Your feud causes people to draw sides and therefore, we get more publicity. So don’t you understand? Jin is the reason you’re anybody.” the woman sniffed. “Focus on getting as many followers as possible before I set up the formal meeting to settle it, okay? Trust me, this is a mutually beneficial feud.” 

              Jin frowned. You had all these beautiful lyrics, songs that meant something. Was the feud really that important? 

“So I’ve got some reference photos here.” Lisa threw a pile of photos onto the table. Jin just stared. How did they get these? They weren’t even released yet.

“Where did you get these?” He still had to get used to the higher tone of your voice and it was quite honestly disconcerting. It felt like he was nervous all the time. 

“You know I have my connections.” She winked. 

             Jin picked up a laminated photo and turned it over in his hands. He didn’t know what to say, this was all insane. 

“Hello?” The woman snapped her fingers several times. “You okay? It’s like you’ve been replaced or something. Hellooooo? Y/N? Are you in there?” 

“You don’t know how right you are.” He mumbled. 

“What?”

                Jin blinked rapidly, trying to regain your sense of personality. Right, right, how did you usually act? He hoped he hadn’t just royally fucked you over. Sure, this may not be his body, but he felt a sense of responsibility, being the temporary caretaker. 

“Ah, nevermind, nevermind.” He waved it off with a little laugh. The woman narrowed her eyes at him, but continued on. 

“You’ll arrive on set at least two hours prior in order to get you all set up. Then we’ll shoot. You’ll have a fifteen minute break and then we’ll do it again. Then you’re free. I know it’s a lot harsher than you’re used to but-”

“That’s all?” He was happy to be in your place at this moment. You had it so easy! 

“Yeah, as I said, it’s a little intense but-”

“Pshhh I’ll be fine.” He reassured her and though she looked skeptical, she just nodded and gathered her things. 

“Be there, 6:00 P.M. Goodbye, Y/N.” She dipped her head and slipped out the door, slamming the wood behind her. The wall shook. 

“What a sourpuss.” He let out a sigh of relief and deflated, leaning against the couch. His phone buzzed. 

            Taehyung’s number flashed on screen. He mentally prepared himself and then picked up the call. 

“Hello Y/N, or should I say...Jin!” Taehyung’s mischievous voice crackled through the speaker. 

“God, I don’t need another reminder.” He grumbled.

            He had successfully pulled off the ‘I hate everything about this’ look. But in truth, he didn’t hate this. It wasn’t so bad and it was a nice vacation. 

“Yeah, yeah, anyway, I did some research and well, the truth is, I found nothing.” Taehyung admitted. Before Jin could register this reality, the man on the other side continued. “But there’s gotta be a time limit. Maybe some other kind of limit. I’ll look into it.” 

“Get on it, Kim.” Jin barked, growing tired of the conversation. “If you have nothing else important to say, just hang up.”

“Wow, so mean, Jin, to one of your closest friends too! Maybe Y/N was right about all that asshole stuff.”

“See!” You echoed from the background of the call. 

“Is that Y/N? Y/N! Get on the phone right now, we need to have a talk about this!” 

“Don’t you have a photoshoot in a bit?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Aw man,” Your voice came through clearer as Taehyung passed you the device. “I was really looking forward to it.” 

“Looking forward to stealing my concept?!” 

                 There was a long pause and you let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry, Jin. I didn’t know until last week and it was too late to change.” Your voice was soft, gentle, and, dare he say, guilty? 

                 He smoothed the wrinkles between his brows and paced between the couch and coffee table. 

“It’s fine. You obviously don’t control your life.” 

                  You actually felt hurt by that. Your expression went stony and cold, your grip on the device tightened. 

“Yet you’re the one with every single part of your day scheduled down to the second.” You pulled the phone away bitterly to look at the piling notifications. 

“It helps keep me on task.” He defended lamely. 

“Why? It just seems...stressful. You have no free time. Honestly, it’s reckless, that’s what it is. One day you’re just going to collapse. You’re such an idiotic ass, you know? And don’t think I can’t feel the soreness in your muscles, Jin, because I can-” 

                 His hands clenched into fists. Who were you to judge his lifestyle? Sure, he’d made fun of your wardrobe, but he hadn’t tried to insult you as...a person. 

“-If I stop moving, I feel restless. It’s better to just wake up and gogo go until I can’t, then fall asleep. Do it all again. If I stop moving, it feels like death. Was that what you wanted?” 

“No Jin, I didn’t mean to pry I-”

“Just stop talking. I never thought I’d see the day I was sick of hearing my own goddamn voice.” He said coldly and hung up.

              You didn’t understand at all. And how could you? Sure, you were in his body, but it wasn’t like you had the years of training instilled in your brain or the knowledge that he accumulated through the time he’d been a star. He checked the time. The photoshoot was soon, and he planned to be there right on time. 

  “Why did you give me the stupidest smile.” You groaned, arm falling over your eyes in embarrassment. 

“Hey, I work with what I got and I worked you hard. This just must be all you got.” Jin huffed, leaning back in his chair. “And what was up with that speech about Awake?” 

“I meant every word.” You said firmly.

            He was quiet for a moment, not having a retort. You didn’t like dragging things out and it was bound to come out sooner or later. 

              What terrified you was how easy it was to be Jin. It was like trying on clothes, but these fit better than anything you’d ever worn. Sure, it had been disorienting in the beginning, but now you’d learned so much about Jin. How he liked his coffee, what shoes he wore for which events, what his favorite shirt was, how he treated his staff, etc. The more you found out about Jin, the less you had to hate about him. Still, his ego was insufferable. 

                The whir of the fan in the room rotated and filled the silence. The greenery of his house was nice, but you preferred the ‘I’m poor and want to be fashionable’ feel your apartment had. Thus, you had agreed to meet with Seokjin to discuss the situation at his, your, place. You didn’t want to think about him rooting around your things, but honestly at this point, you might as well be naked around each other. It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen it by now. 

“I keep thinking about that night, Y/N.” Jin mumbled. “Why were we switched that night?” 

                  You remained silent, pulling your arm away from your face and staring at the white ceiling. There was a crack in it that ran all the down the hallway. The paint was fading as well, giving away to the garish blue you had covered a year ago. There was still a stain in the left corner because Jennie had once projectile vomited up there when she had too much to drink. You shuddered at the memory. 

“Maybe it had to do with the meteor shower.” You shrugged. 

              The new depth of your voice wasn’t disconcerting anymore and seeing him walking around in your body was fine, as long as he wasn’t screwing anything up, you could care less. 

“Maybe.” He hummed in response. 

“You know I still hate you.” You said, but you weren’t sure. 

               You wanted it to be that way, desperately, but nothing could be the same after whatever this was, was over. You wanted to go back to hating Seokjin’s guts. 

“I do too.” He responded, but there was a lack of bite. 

“I hate you. I hate your arrogant ass, your ego, and your guts.” You rolled over, locking eyes with him.

               He was gazing at you, amusement in his features. You thought that you should look amused more often. Since the feud broke out, you usually wore a scowl or frown. 

“But I hate myself more for being jealous of you.” You pointed at him. “Don’t you understand? Having an ego is a blessing. Being arrogant is a privilege. Normal people don’t get to just go around, brag about their accomplishments and be rewarded for that.” 

                   He laughed softly, the high pitched noise tingling your ears. There were parts of him that showed through, even when he was in your body. 

                 The first was his mannerisms. They were always more egotistical than what you usually went for. It was like he physically couldn’t choose wording that sounded humble. 

                 The second was his smile. He still smiled the same way, lips peeling back to reveal pearly white teeth. It looked so unnatural on your face, but it suited him, always had. 

                 The third and final one was his laugh. He would still laugh the same squeaky windshield wiper laugh. It was contagious. 

                   The man stood and took your finger, which was still pointed at him, and slowly lowered it. He wrapped his hands around your own and held on tightly. 

“Now why would you be jealous of me?” 

                You forgot his eyes. Despite them being yours, his eyes did not change. In his eyes, you saw sincerity, an emotion you once thought too complex for him. 

“I’ve lived in your body for well over a week, Jin. You have a busy schedule and I’m exhausted at the end of every day, but...there’s security in that. You don’t have to feel like you’re hanging onto the end of a string that’s about to break 24/7.” 

                He nodded, seemingly mulling over your words. 

“I’m jealous of you, Y/N.” The man said. It was so odd seeing words forming from your lips that you had not made. “I’m jealous of the way you can do what you like, the way you can speak your mind and no one cares. I’m jealous that you can make the music you want. Y/N, I’m jealous because your lyrics are beautiful, meaningful, and you’re allowed to sing them.” He continued on gently. 

“You saw my lyrics?” Your throat went dry. 

             Those lyrics were your safe haven. They had been invaded by foreign eyes, yet you didn’t really mind it. He was in your body, living your life. He would have found it sooner or later. 

“Yes, I did.” He dropped your hands. “I’m sorry, I know I said I wouldn’t-”

“No, Jin, it’s...it’s okay.” You smiled. Your gaze wandered, trying to looked anywhere but him.

“Now where do we go from here?”

“We just do our best, I think, roll with the punches.”

“The awards show is only a week away.”

“Then we do our best.”

“And if we don’t ever change back?”

“Jin,” You caught him firmly in your gaze. He froze and you wondered if that’s really what you looked like when you blushed. “We’ll do our best and everything will work itself out, I’m sure of it.” 

“I trust you, then.” 

              The makeup artist brushed another streak of gold across your cheekbones. You held perfectly still. 

“Almost done!” The artist squeaked, brushing over your chin now. The fine tips of the brush tickled your face and the gold dust floating through the air made you want to sneeze. 

               The roar of the crowd was a dull thud in the background next to your heartbeat. You were up next, the act before you just finished up. You could see the stage and the lights set for your turn.

               You had spent the past week memorizing every detail, memorizing the lyrics, practicing your instrument of choice. It had been hectic, but it would be worth it. You were going to show the world you were a changed person. You took a deep breath, shaking out your arms and legs as the makeup artist drifted away. 

                 You tried not to sweat or breathe too heavily as the large screens lit up to announce the next artist. As much as you wished it was your name showing up on that screen, it was not. Your name would be later in the program. No, right now, you were Kim Seokjin, superstar, worldwide handsome, and the most awaited performance of the night. 

“Kim. Seok. Jin.” The announcer said, letting the stadium fill with cheers. You could only ever dream of this success and you thanked Jin for lending you his body. 

                     On the stage, a grand piano rose to the top. It was empty, just waiting for someone to play it. You knew he was watching in the audience, waiting for his song to play, waiting to see how you sang it. You were thankful his vocal capabilities carried over to you through his body. You walked on stage and it was so quiet, you could have heard a pin drop. The audience was rightfully confused. 

                   The past week, you had been brainstorming a way to make his piece stand out against the generic pop songs of the others. Blaring music just didn’t seem...it didn’t seem right for this song. It deserved a slower, more subtle production. So you set about learning it on piano. You had practiced until well into the morning every night and you were exhausted, but you knew it by heart. 

                   You sat on the bench, the wood creaking loudly. It was like the audience had faded away and you were alone, practicing over and over, singing until you couldn’t any more. You smoothed out your pants and took a deep breath, hands hovering above the keys. Then you looked at the camera and gave his signature wink. Which led to a roll of laughter and shrieks from the crowd. Then it went quiet once more. You could have sworn you heard his laugh. 

                   You played the first chord. Then the next. No going back now. Contrary to the audience’s belief, no dancers would come out halfway through, the music wouldn’t suddenly kick in. No, this would be the breather, the quiet song amidst the chaos. You took a deep breath, begging and praying for his godly stable vocals. 

“It’s not that I believe it, but that I want to try holding out. Because this is all that I can do.” You began to sing Awake. 

                  The song that helped bring you closer to its creator, the song that reminded you of the beginning of this mess. Yet, it no longer felt like a mess and more like a blessing. You had never thought it would be going on this long, though. Maybe Jin was right, maybe this would be forever? You played the next notes, hands dancing over the keys in a practiced and steady rhythm.

Three Years Ago

“Oh, Jennie, please can you grab my lyrics? I left them on the desk, they’re really messy so you should recognize them!” You called to your friend. She nodded and hurried back inside to fetch the papers. 

                  At BigHit Entertainment, you planned to be a producer, nothing else. You wanted to produce music, make tons of money off royalties, and retire early. That was the plan, until they suggest you try out to be an idol. 

                  You didn’t work well in a group, far too stubborn, so they set you on the solo track. You were currently writing your first album and your debut was coming up fast. 

                   The entirety of your body ached. Your legs were sore from running and your feet hurt from standing all day. Your arms screamed in pain when you tried to lift anything due to the amount of dance practice you’d been in.

                    The thing that was the worst, was your throat. You weren’t a singer, okay. You sang a bit, but not a ton, and even with vocal lessons, singing for upwards of four hours a day was taxing on your body. The things that really helped were your friends and sleep. 

                     Sadly you got neither of those things. Without being in a girl group, you barely knew anyone and you had maybe four hours of sleep a night with studying and practice. Besides, you had maybe one person you could consider a friend; Jennie. And you had another you could consider a rival.

                       Kim Seokjin. Multi-talented, sculpted like the gods, and arrogant as shit. He only ever rolled his eyes when you were around and he never had anything nice to say to you or anyone else. He kissed ass as well. Just another thing you hated about him. 

Okay, so hate was a strong word, but you very much disliked him. He just never seemed to like your guts, no matter what you did. At first, it had been intimidating, but now it was just annoying. 

“Well, well, well, Y/N.” Speak of the devil. 

“Just get it over with.” You groaned, turning to face the handsome prick. “What do you want?” 

“Just some company.” He said innocently. “I’m waiting for the bus to the dorms as well.” He explained, brushing a hand through his hair. 

“Sure. Well, I hope you enjoy silence, because that’s what I love best.” You dug around your bag and withdrew your earbuds. 

                  You plugged in your phone and popped in one bud just as Jennie came running back. She was barely sweating, even after running up and down the stairs for your notes. Cardio was intense for the more dance based girl groups. 

“Here you go!” She said, oblivious to the tension around you and Jin.

“Oh thank you.” You shot her a weak smile. 

“Bye!” She waved, rushing out the door to her waiting members. 

                    You watched her leave, begging her to stay with your eyes. Once her van was pulling out, you sighed. Great, now you were stuck with Jin. You glanced down at the papers. Oh shit. These are not your papers. You cursed under your breath. 

“Whatcha got there, Y/N?” He broke the silence, peering over your shoulder. 

                      You immediately slapped the papers to your chest. What if he thought you were stealing? When could you sneak back and put them away? 

“Let me see.” He whined, craning over your shoulder before finally stepping in front of you. “Is it lyrics? It’s okay, I just want to hear!” 

“N-no!” You stuttered, folding up the papers. “Just schoolwork I forgot.”

            He narrowed his eyes, the playful look gone. Maybe you should have just told the truth. 

“Show me what you have in your hands, Y/N.” He said darkly, his voice smooth and monotone.

             You felt like a child about to be scolded. When you didn’t respond, he reached forward and plucked it out of your hands. 

“Oh I see. So now you’re just stealing from me.” 

“What? No!”

“Then why do you have my lyrics in your hands?!”

“I was going to return them I swear!” 

“Yeah, right.” 

Before you could explain yourself, he strutted outside. “I won’t forget this, Y/N.” 

              A paper fluttered to the ground and you rushed to pick it up, but he was already gone. The paper was in a puddle and you hurriedly scooped it up. The ink was already ruined. At the top of the page, the words Awake by Kim Seokjin were bleeding down the page. 

               The audience was hushed, confused by the somber tone. Still, many people had smiles on their faces or perhaps a little tear in their eyes. You continued the song to the end. The melody carried over the quiet stadium like a ghost. The haunting appeal drew more in every second. Televisions from around the world tuned in to watch, eyes glued to the screen. So this is what it feels like to have the world’s eyes on you. 

                 Backstage, Jin watched the performance silently. His eyes remained on the screen, even through his makeup and wardrobe. His own sweet voice pierced the room. Was that how he sounded? He always joked that he was ‘the best singer’ but in his heart, he never believed it. The man smoothed down the dress. It complimented your body well, and he was reminded that this was indeed your body and not his. 

                 Whenever someone called ‘Jin’ or ‘Y/N’, both of you would turn around. It was actually pretty funny to watch. Your agent cursed. 

“He’s going to sweep the awards again with a ballsy performance like that.” Lisa muttered. 

“I never knew my song could be sung like that.” He murmured. Then he straightened up, playing your part dutifully. “It’s too slow, honestly.” he rolled his eyes and Lisa snickered along with him. 

“Half of the staff are sleeping.” Lisa mused, before turning back to check over her list. 

Jin took a deep breath. “Lisa.” He turned to the woman, who didn’t even look up. “I want to end the feud with Jin. It’s unnecessary and hurting my career and reputation beyond repair.” 

              The woman blinked a few times. Then she laughed. 

“That’s hilarious. If you can somehow convince Jin to let that happen, then by all means, be my guest, but I’m sure he also realizes how necessary you are to building his career.” 

“I’m sure he’ll agree.” He said coldly, lacing his fingers together. Lisa narrowed her eyes before turning back to her list. 

“Like I said, only if you can convince him, because I won’t.” 

-

              The piano slowly faded to silence. You held your breath, standing and bowing. It was quiet for a moment, then a roll of applause fell over the audience. It felt like waves crashing over your body. You smiled sheepishly, blowing a kiss to the camera for fanservice points. Then you exited the stage where Jin, I mean, you, were getting ready to go on next. 

                 He eyed you as you stepped out. Then, just as you were about to slip by, he grasped your arm. 

“Good job.” His voice was quiet. You nodded at his words, taken off guard. He dropped his hand and you softly whispered back.

“I never stole your music, you know.” You said, saying what had been on your mind for the past three years. 

“I know.” He said, his grin fading. 

“Good.” You said stiffly. “Good luck out there, Y/N.”

He shot you a cocky smile and strutted out on stage. 

 “For best artist of the year, the nominees are…” The announcer stood on stage, a golden envelope in hand. “Kim Seokjin.”

                A roar of applause came from the crowd and fangirls squealed loudly. You winked at the camera and then face forward. A short montage of Jin played on screen. 

“Y/L/N Y/N.” 

              You watched a compilation of yourself and applauded their work. They made you look pretty nice. There was a similar ripple of applause. 

“Kim Taehyung.” 

               The same occurred, but he remained stoic throughout the montage. His eyes flicked warily over between you and Jin. 

“And Jeon Jungkook.” 

                   Rinse and repeat. 

                   You held your breath. 

“And the winner is…”

                    You made eye contact with Jin across the way. You were seated directly in front of the stage and he was seated further to the left. He smiled and nodded. You felt your heart rate accelerate. Was it you? It was the last award of the night, it had to be you. And yet, you would never feel that rush of applause, never get to make that speech, because of this stupid curse. Maybe it was your fault for wishing it. 

“Y/L/N Y/N!” The announcer shouted and you watched Jin stand from his place. 

                       You watched him step up the stairs careful not to trip on the dress, and take a stand at the microphone. In his hands was a trophy, it’s cool metal gleaming. How many times had you wished to hold that trophy? To feel the weight of it in your hands. 

“Hello.” He spoke, the mic rang a little and he chuckled. “It is such an honor to be receiving this award. I would like to thank my parents, for supporting me,” Now that was a bold faced lie, but you let him off the hook. 

“My agent, for helping to boost me to success, and all the hardworking staff at BigHit for making this dream come true.” 

                        It was the usual speech. Boring. You would have made it far more memorable. You tried your best not to let jealousy blind you in this moment. 

“But my real speech here is for anyone who feels they can’t do what they like. You see, I know a girl who writes beautiful lyrics, lyrics that take you to another dimension and music that does the same.”

“Yet, our industry does not reward simply passion for the craft, it rewards your dedication to your company and the ability to follow directions.”

“We, as artists, need to learn how to inspire confidence in ourselves and others, so that we can make the music we want to.” He took a deep breath. “Your greatest fear...maybe even your greatest enemy,” He found your eyes in the crowd. 

“May be your greatest weapon.” 

                 And in that moment, he took a step forward towards the mic and you felt a tugging sensation. You blinked and you were standing at the mic, your eyes trained to the crowd. 

                     You were you again. And you got to enjoy the standing ovation, the swell of the crowd like a rising tide. Yet, your eyes still went to him. You didn’t hate Kim Seokjin anymore. 

                     You admired him, you were jealous of him, but you found yourself liking him. That laugh of his, which you would have thought annoying, was now a tally mark of reasons why you enjoyed his company. 

                      You found him in the crowd, despite the dimness of the lights. He was still seated, getting his bearings. A smile easily made its way onto your face and you met eyes. The man simply smiled at you and raised his glass. 

Maybe I, I can never fly I can’t fly like the flower petals over there Or as though I have wings Maybe I, I can’t touch the sky Still, I want to stretch my hand out I want to run Just a bit more

 Some people I wanted to tag! @youarejesting​ @moccahobi​ @yoongi-sugaglider​

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Rise Up

Chapter Two

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader  |  Word Count: 3592 Warnings: Swearing

Song: Higher by Creed

Sitting at a table away from the others you twisted your fingers together in your lap. “I feel like a zoo exhibit. How ‘bout you?”

Chuckling softly, Matt muttered, “They do seem to be doing an awful lot of staring.”

After introductions all around, and a few moments of shuffling, you figured it would probably be best if you and Matt took a moment to talk, get to know one another a little bit before… whatever came next.

Returning to the common room where Clint was belting out Wrecking Ball by Miley Cyrus, Steve had led you to the farthest corner of the room with the least amount of chaos so you and Matt could talk. But you were feeling distinctly like the fish in the fishbowl, the eyes on you hard to miss.

“This is… weird,” you muttered, sighing.

“Maybe we should start with something easy. The Captain didn’t explain what happened, and Ms. Romanoff wasn’t exactly what I would call chatty when she picked me up.”

You smiled at that. Nat wasn’t overly friendly with anyone she didn’t know well unless they were a target she was scamming, and - with the revelation of Matt’s other identity, one you were still having difficulty believing was real - you could understand Nat’s reluctance to allow him too close.

“That’s not exactly a simple answer either.” Slowly you began to explain about Garry, the Hounds, and all that had happened in the last few weeks. “So, they succeeded, sort of. I remember… everything, but the cost was,” you flicked a hand at your face, “my sight.”

He sat very quietly throughout the retelling, shocking you again with his stillness, with his calm.

“You’re telling the truth,” he murmured, almost as if surprised.

“Well… yeah.” The sound of him shifting had you frowning. “Matt?”

A soft sound, a chuckle which seemed somewhat strained filled your ears. “Christ… you really are a Valkyrie. He said you were, but I didn’t believe it.”

“I was born, originally, a rather long time ago, for sure,” you smiled, understanding this had to be hard. “Thor and Loki could confirm it for you if you want.”

“No, no, I believe you. Hearts don’t lie,” he said, patting your hand.

“Hearts?” you asked, confused.

“Heart rates, pulses. A person may be able to lie like a rug, with extremely good tonal control, but you can’t control your heart. It accelerates when someone lies. Even under duress, if a person is speaking the truth, their heart stays the same. If they lie…”

“It gets faster,” you murmured. “That’s really cool!” Lifting your hand, you rubbed at your temple.

“Headache?” he asked softly.

“From the noise,” you agreed, the sound becoming nearly unbearable. “You’re very quiet, Matt. It’s the rest I can’t…”

His hand took yours with an accuracy which startled you until you remembered… Daredevil.

“How much can you hear? How far?”

“All of it. Everything. Everywhere.” It was like having hundreds of people in your head demanding your attention.

“Focus on one heart,” he said, bringing your hand to his chest. “Find this one and block the rest out.”

“How, though?” You shook your head. “Yours is just… there, beneath all the others.”

“Concentrate. Hear every nuance, every pulse, every flutter, every beat. Focus on the rush of blood through the veins. Separate it from the other sounds until it’s all that fills your ears. Feel it through your fingertips, smell the rush of it as it warms my skin.”

Breathing out, you fought to focus, to slow everything down until his heart beat in your ears, his and one other. “Steve,” you whispered. All other sound ended, faded away into white noise but for the powerful beat of Steve’s heart, and the quieter one of Matt’s.

“Better,” he murmured, a smile in his voice. “That was good.”

“You can tell?”

“The tension in your shoulders is less. You’re not frowning like you were, and your breathing isn’t as shallow.”

“Wow,” you muttered, amazed.

He chuckled softly. “You’ll get there. Why did you say, Steve?”

“He’s the only heart I can’t block out. I always know where he is in the room, and our room is the only one not overwhelming to me, but I can’t keep hiding in there, or his office to drown out the world.”

He returned your hand to the table, patted it gently. “He’s very important to you, as you are to him.”

“He’s my sjelevenn, my soulmate.” You smiled Steve’s direction, listening to the little jump in his heart when he noticed.

“You believe in soulmates?”

Turning back to Matt you shook your head. “It’s not a belief like most humans believe. It’s different for us, for the Valkyrjur. I met him in my first life. I named him, Helgi, gave him his sword, married him, lost him far too soon and died shortly after that, heartbroken.”

“Sounds… almost unbelievable. If I hadn’t seen someone I love come back from the dead… I might be inclined to call you a liar.”

Nodding, you sighed softly. “It’s a bit like a fairy tale, I agree, but Steve and I have lived many lives. This was supposed to be my quiet life,” you chuckled wryly.

“With Captain America was meant to be quiet?” he snickered.

“Try serving in the halls of Valhalla. This,” you flicked your hand out, “is quiet. Warriors waiting for Ragnarok can be quite… rowdy.”

“I can’t even imagine.” The smile was back, you could hear it easily. “But why am I here. Why is fighting so important. That’s what your Captain told me. He didn’t need someone who could help you adjust to the dark, but someone who could teach you to fight in it.”

Running your hand over the tabletop, feeling the tiny grains in the wood, you again focused on Steve and the sound of his heart across the room. “Because he’s mine and I’m his. Valkyrjur fight. We clean the fields of the worthy dead. We are warriors. Since the moment we met in our first life he has held my heart. He died when I was not there to keep him safe. In my second life it happened again, history repeated itself. Every life since, I have guarded my sjelevenn with the ferocity of my race, it was my vow and became my destiny. To send him out alone,” you turned your eyes back toward Matt, “would be a slow death to my soul.”

“No pressure,” he muttered.

“None whatsoever,” you smiled. “I’m not starting from scratch, Matt. I’m able. The years of agent training are nothing compared to my time as the leader of the Valkyrjur. I can fight. I just… can’t do it like this.”

His hand came down next to yours on the table. “There’s one thing you need to learn before we get started.”

“What’s that?”

“Seeing is overrated. I can help you, (Y/N). It’s not going to be easy. Stick, my mentor, he found me as a kid. It was… not easy, but easier for me to unlearn the dependency on my eyes.”

“Little hard to rely on something that’s not there anymore.”

“Just because they don’t work, doesn’t mean your brain won’t try to use them. It’s had how many years of sight? We need to train you as if you could never see, to begin with. Your hearing, your sense of smell, touch, taste, you have to train yourself to use those first because that split second when your brain tries to seek an answer from your eyes it won’t get, can have a bullet winding up plowing through your body.”

Nodding slowly, you shoved at the hair falling over your face. “I get it, I do.”

“Eventually, you can build just as detailed pictures of the world around you without your eyes as you did with them. You can see without seeing.”

“Then why the cane?”

“What kind of secret identity would I have if I didn’t use it?” he laughed softly.

Chuckling, you had to agree with him. “Blind lawyer turned Daredevil? Yeah, that’s a bit of a stretch. Cane makes for good cover.”

“That it does,” he agreed. “Plus, people are inclined to let their guard down around a guy who can’t see them.”

“Stand in the lobby of a building and listen to what’s going on twenty or thirty floors above you. Nice.” If you could learn to control all these new senses, you would be even more of a benefit to the team, a thought which really excited you.

“How far?” he gulped.

“That’s just a rough guess. I mean, the living quarters are on the north side of the building for us and logistics is on the south, that’s roughly twenty-six stories if you laid the building down.”

“The length of the entire building? You can hear the length of the entire building?”

“Yes.” This time when he shifted it was a restless sound, hand through hair, click of something metallic on wood - glasses maybe -  before skin on skin indicated he was running his hand over his face.

“No wonder you have a headache.”

“Is that… bad?” you asked, suddenly feeling uncertain.

“No, no. Just… you’re more powerful than I’d thought. I can get… ten floors, fifteen if I stretch, or all of Hell’s Kitchen if I’m outside sitting on a rooftop. You’d probably be able to hear all of New York if you tried. Shit…” he hissed, again the sound of hand through hair registered.

His hand came down beside yours, and you lightly touched the back of it. “Matt… if this is too much…”

“No.” His fingers closed around yours. “No. I want to help you, (Y/N). I know I can. You’re just… not what I expected.”

“Well, you’re not what I expected either when Steve said he had a plan,” you chuckled.

“Lillesøster, have you moved on from your sjelevenn to another?” came the dry voice of Loki, causing Matt to stiffen in surprise when he appeared out of thin air.

“Ugagn, did you come to apologize for distressing my sjelevenn?” you snarled, turning your face his way.

“Me?” he asked innocently.

“Yes, you, you big pain in the ass! You knew who he was to me and you let him think he wasn’t!” Getting to your feet, you thumped your fist on his leather-clad chest. “I’m this close to kicking your ass, Loki!”

“Darling,” he purred, capturing your fist. “You are at a disadvantage, or I would let you try.”

“Give her time,” Matt said.

“And just who are you, mortal?” Loki sneered, earning himself a second fist to his chest from you.

“Be nice! He’s here to help.”

Angry stomping could be heard coming toward you, the whir of a metal arm and Loki jerked away.

“Where is he?” Bucky growled, hand sliding down your arm as he walked past, going after Loki.

“Now, Sergeant Barnes, is that any way to behave around a guest?” Loki asked.

“You ain’t no guest. You’re a worm that needs to bring back the little pissant you stole so the rest of us get a turn beatin’ on him!” Bucky snapped.

“I would love to, Sergeant, but you see, he’s rather… tied up at the moment.”

You could hear the glee in his voice. “Caverns of Svelic?”

“Pit of Alemik.”

You flinched. “Oh, that’s cruel.”

“It was better than the Sea of Klank,” Thor chuckled, his steps coming up behind you, hand ruffling your hair.

“Loki, no!” you gasped.

“Thor wouldn’t let me,” he pouted.

“Dollface?” Bucky asked, clearly confused.

Shaking your head, you motioned toward the table behind you. “Thor, Loki, this is Matt. He’s here to help.”

“Matthew Murdock,” he said, arriving at your side.

“You are blind as well,” Thor murmured.

“How observant of you, brother.”

You could almost hear Loki roll his eyes. No, you actually could hear Loki roll his eyes. It made you snicker and bite your lip. “This big brute,” you slapped your hand to Thor’s stomach, making him grunt, “is the King of Asgard.”

“And you just punched him in the stomach,” Thor whined.

“Oh, please. Don’t be such a baby,” you scoffed.

“Yes, brother. Don’t be so dramatic,” Loki teased.

“Says the drama queen of a trickster god,” you muttered, lifting your chin when he growled at you.

“Lillesøster, you are lucky to be at a disadvantage, or I would take exception to such a remark,” Loki sniffed, “and after I went to all the trouble of bringing you a gift.”

“Presents?” you grinned. Holding out your hands, you opened and closed your fingers. “Gimme!”

“So greedy,” Loki chuckled, placing the gift in your palms.

The cool metal made you gasp. “Oh! Oh, Loki.”

“I told you I would keep it.”

The metal guard slipped over your first and second finger, over the back of your hand, and closed around your wrist with ease. The partial gauntlet was heavy, but the weight was like a piece you hadn’t realized was missing had been returned to you.

Closing your eyes, you breathed out a sigh, curling the fist into your chest as a smile played with your lips. “Thank you.”

“Whatcha got there, doll?” Bucky asked.

“It was a present from my mother. The Valkyrie equivalent of jewellery.” The memory of that day washed over you.

Standing in the knee-high grass on the Plains of the Valkyrjur, its blue-green blades waving in the breeze while the purple flowers, small and delicate in a myriad of blooms, sprinkled the air with their heady fragrance. The white of your gown had shone as brightly as the clouds above, the sun reflecting off the guards upon your arms, and the helm upon your head.

You’d been young, only fifteen summers, but already you were well on your way to assuming her place as Leader of the Valkyrjur. You had the drive, as you had the gift. That day, your mother had taken you with her to walk the plains and visit with the pegasi who grazed upon them in the valley between the mountains.

She was as beautiful as she was proud, and as kind as she was wise, the very best leader they’d ever had. “Sváfa, one day you will take my place and when that time comes, wear this in memory of me.” Removing the handguard intricately worked in gleaming silver, she’d pressed it into your palm. “Wear it in pride as the Valkyrie you shall become will be far greater than I could have ever dreamed.”

You shook off the memory. “Her name was Tove. She died a few weeks later, a battle gone wrong. They brought me her cloak,” you turned away as tears filled your eyes only to find yourself in Thor’s embrace.

“We did not mean to upset you, bråkmaker,” he murmured against your hair.

“Just… the night’s been a little emotional already,” you sighed, pressing your forehead to his chest, thankful he was wearing regular clothing, not his armour.

He patted your back. “Ah, then you need part two of your surprise.”

Pulling away, you frowned. “Part two?”

Something sloshed behind you, and you jerked your head around. “No!”

“Yes!” Loki laughed.

“NO! You did not break into the temple!”

“Darling, how you besmirch my character! I’m hurt! Besides…. Thor did it,” Loki said.

“You did not!” you bellowed at Thor.

“Mayhaps I did, or perhaps I simply charmed a pretty maid into giving me a bottle,” he teased.

Smacking his chest, you scolded, “You better not have stolen it.”

“Oi! Dollface!” Bucky grumbled, “What the fuck?”

A blush coloured your cheeks. “Oh man, Buck! I’m so sorry! And Matt! You’re probably so lost!”

“A little. But as the sergeant is equally confused, I feel less alone,” he chuckled softly.

“Why don’t we gather the team and head for the lounge. I’d like to know what a Pit of Alemik is,” Bucky stated, already heading away by the sound of his retreating voice.

“He’s really annoyed with you both,” you snickered, nudging Thor with your elbow.

“Hm,” Thor shrugged. “There is no one better qualified for dealing with Garry then Loki. And nowhere better than Asgard for containing his powers.”

You nodded toward the others. “You’ll need to convince them of that.” Reaching out, you found Matt’s arm, tucking your fingers in his elbow when he offered it. “Shall we?”

“So, we are to be the blind leading the blind?” Matt chuckled softly.

Laughing, you nodded. “I figured I could give direction, and you can keep me from running into things.”

“I think we can accomplish that,” he snickered, nudging you to head toward the others.

***

You were sitting against Steve’s side, surrounded by the original team having left the newbies to their caterwauling with the other members of staff who'd decided to join in on karaoke night fun, glass in hand, waiting for the others to receive theirs. Unlike Thor’s usual fair, the drink he brought which only Steve and Bucky had ever been allowed to indulge in, this was something reserved for the Halls of Valhalla, but wouldn’t rot the innards of regular mortals.

Steve’s fingers were linked with yours, with the ones now clad in metal, his thumb rubbing slowly over the links and hinges as he traced his way up the back of your hand to your wrist. “Beautiful,” he murmured.

Tilting your head onto his shoulder, you curled your fingers into his hand, letting the sharp talons dig in gently. “Deadly.”

“Like you,” he whispered against your hair with a soft chuckle.

“So, (Y/N), what exactly am I drinking,” Tony asked.

“This is Valkyrie fruit wine. It’s reserved for only the bravest of warriors, those for whom the most songs are sung.” You snickered when you murmured, “Loki used to steal it from the temple.”

“Once! I pilfered a bottle once as a boy! And considering both you and Thor partook with me, you are just as guilty as I am,” he huffed, but there was little anger in the words. “Damn we got drunk.”

Laughing, you held up your glass, “To friends old and new, and newly remembered. Skål!”

“Skål!” Thor bellowed, making you giggle.

Bringing the small cup to your lips, more a port than a wine, the scent of the drink evoked a memory of the deep red liquid. Drinking the wine down, you settled back against Steve as the warmth rippled through your veins like liquid fire. The buzz came high and fast, loosening your limbs, making you feel a little floaty without being fuzzy headed.

“Wow,” Wanda sighed, smile in her voice. “That is… amazing.”

“Shit,” Sam chuckled. “Why have we never had this before?”

“Too hard to get,” Thor said. “I now owe the current Leader of the Valkyrjur a Smedlheim cloak.”

“Oh, Thor. You didn’t,” you sighed, shaking your head.

“What’s a Smedlheim?” Steve asked.

“Think tiger the size of an elephant but with antlers like an elk,” you explained, glaring Thor’s general direction. “I thought you said you charmed a maid into giving you the bottle?”

“I did. She just so happened to be the Valkyrjur Fullmakt.”

“Fullmakt?” Tony asked.

“The proxy. She who steps into the leadership role when the Queen isn’t available.” You could hear the smirk in Loki’s voice.

“Where is the Queen?” asked Vision.

There was silence as you sat and played with your glass, feeling more and more eyes turn your way.

“You?” whispered Steve, tension growing in the lines of his body.

“Not in this life,” you muttered, silently vowing to kick Loki’s ass twice as hard once you were able.

“Sváfa,” Thor murmured.

“Shut your pie hole you overgrown Asgardian!” you snarled. “I think you’ve been more than chatty enough for one night.”

“Darling-”

“So help me, Loki!” you wailed.

“You’re the Queen of the Valkyrie?” Steve reiterated. “The Queen? Did we not just talk about secrets, doll face?” He was practically seething.

Setting your glass on the table, you caught the edge and sent it smashing to the floor. “Damn it!” Shoving to your feet, you clenched your fists. “It’s irrelevant! I’m not the Queen. Not in this life! The two of you bringing it up has only caused more trouble. I have enough of that without you compounding it!” Turning on your heel, you stepped over the glass, around Steve’s legs, and stomped for the door.

Leaping up, Steve was hot on your heels.

***

“Huh,” Matt said, a smile playing with his lips.

“What?” Natasha, propped on the couch arm next to Clint asked.

“She walked out all on her own. Even missed the chair sticking out.” Matt nodded, his smile breaking free.

“Huh, so she did,” Clint smirked. “She’s always been one to run on her emotions. You rile her up during a mission; she’s liable to clear a room with extreme prejudice.”

“It was the Valkyrie coming through,” Thor explained.

“They are a hot-tempered breed,” Loki agreed.

“Feisty,” Tony chuckled. “She’s always been feisty.”

“Let Steve take the brunt of her temper,” Bucky said, “I want to know about this Pit of whatcha ma-call-it you’ve got Garry stashed in.”

“Garry,” growled a distinctly deep voice.

Everyone looked sharply at Bruce.

“What?” the man grumbled. “I wanna know just as much as the big guy.”

Loki looked around at those gathered and smiled, wicked and sharp. “Let me tell you of the despair-filled Pit of Alemik.”

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