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tjkiahgb · 5 years

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Cyrus’s Doppelgänger: An Investigation

I’m reminded of a joke from an old episode of The Simpsons.

In the episode, Homer takes a job in a different town. Shortly after he and the family arrive at their new house, his eccentric boss, Hank Scorpio, shows up to greet them. He talks about his moccasins and tells Homer he left him a pair, but if Homer doesn’t like them, then neither does he. He takes his moccasins off and tosses them away.

This exchange, which lasts all of five seconds, has led to years upon years of furious debate on the internet, which is weird because normally the internet just lets stuff go.

What did Homer mean? Did he say “Yes, once” because he just saw that very thing happen moments ago and the joke is about him being stupid? Did he mean he saw that same thing happen prior to that day and the joke is about the randomness of life?

The whole thing is so vague and absurd that the answer isn’t clear and both choices can be considered workable solutions.

Why do I bring this up?

Because I believe Andi Mack has a similarly ambiguous joke.

One which has caused a lot of strife.

One which has been on my mind for well over a year.

One which I determined I needed an answer to.

This called for an investigation. And not just any investigation. A cool, trendy, documentary series-style investigation, with multiple parts split up by stylish titles.

After half a year of research -- reviewing hours and hours of tape, conducting hundreds of interviews, and reading some notes -- I believe I may have found an answer.

This whole mystery begins back in episode four of season two. Titled “Mama,” the episode was directed by Eyal Gordon and written by series creator Terri Minsky herself.

In a scene that occurs about midway through the episode, Jonah teaches Cyrus how to skateboard and he says, “You’re one of a kind, Cyrus.”

To which Cyrus responds...

Stop and think about this for a second. What exactly is the meaning behind this joke?

I believe before we can begin to investigate any possibilities, we have to first look at the definition of the word “doppelgänger.” And the best way to do that is to go to the source.

One of the earliest English dictionaries ever produced is A Table Alphabeticall, published in London in the year 1604 and written by Robert Cawdrey. There are no known images of Robert Cawdrey so I made one.

Cawdrey’s dictionary still exists today. It is kept in the Bodleian Library at the University of Oxford.

Now, I’m not a professional investigator, but having watched quite a few of these documentaries, I knew the best move was to always follow your instincts. So I followed my investigator’s instincts and booked a first-class ticket on a non-stop flight to England to see the dictionary.

Well imagine my surprise and disgust when the stuffy librarians at Oxford wouldn’t let me handle the dictionary or highlight the passages I wanted. I tried to explain to them what tumblr was and they didn’t get it. They told me I couldn’t have their precious little dictionary even after I told them I came all the way from America for this!

And then someone started trying to tell me that Cawdrey’s dictionary was published almost 200 years before the invention of the word “doppelgänger,” so even if I could dig through A Table Alphabeticall, I wouldn’t find it in there. Let me tell you, I did not take that well. There was a lot of yelling on both ends and then they called security on me.

Long story short, I returned to America $12,000 in the hole and no closer to solving the mystery.

Once back in America, I decided to go to the Merriam-Webster website and look up the definition and take a screenshot of it.

I tried to make it look old-ish though. It looks like a scan from an old book, right? Okay. Cool.

Now, look at those definitions. The word “doppelgänger” is literally German for “double-walker.” Keep this all in mind as we move forward. We’re not talking about shared interests here. We’re talking about clones, we’re talking about mirror images, we’re talking about twins separated at birth -- things of that nature.

We’re also talking about ghosts? I don’t think this is a ghost thing though, so let’s ignore the second definition.

It’s also, I guess, just literally anyone who has the same name as you? That’s ridiculous. So, what, every John Smith has millions of doppelgängers? Dumb. So dumb. Ignore that definition, too.

Let’s just hone in on the one about seeing your look-alike.

So, when Cyrus says he’s met his doppelgänger, who is he talking about?

Fans, in discussing this joke before, had considered Iris as a possible solution.

In fact, it’s sort of commonly accepted that Cyrus is talking about Iris because she was still a part of his life at that time so she could easily be on his mind, and they share a lot of similar interests.

And, frankly, she’s really the only person this joke could’ve been about, if it was a reference to someone we’ve actually seen in the show.

But let’s think back to the definition of a doppelgänger. Does that really sound like it’s describing Iris? Again, this isn’t about those shared interests. This isn’t about how much you gel with someone. This is about seeing your visual counterpart.

For a refresher, let’s take a look at both characters from an earlier episode.

Now, the differences are subtle but I think if you really look closely you can tell they aren’t doubles because they look like entirely different people.

I believe we accepted Iris as the answer because she was there. It was convenient and it allowed us to move on. But thinking about it now, it was clear that choice was just to provide us comfort. That doesn’t mean it was correct. Far from it.

So, no, Iris clearly isn’t Cyrus’s doppelgänger. And if that’s the case, then who might he be talking about?

There had to be another answer. But what?

The trail went cold for several months.

Until one day I was rewatching the season two episode, “For the Last Time,” and found a game-changing clue.

In “For the Last Time,” Cyrus and Andi prepare a time capsule for Buffy before she moves away.

In the scene in which the two place objects into the time capsule, Andi chooses to add a picture of them at Costume Day in the 6th grade.

There! Stop!

Zoom in and enhance!

More! Zoom in and enhance more!

Not good enough! Zoom in and enhance more!

Dammit! I thought. Why was this happening to me, of all people? I was running an investigation, not a tile art workshop! How come when I shouted “enhance” at my screen it didn’t enhance?!

Faced with a dilemma, I did what any veteran investigator would do: I threw more money at the problem. After spending $2,300 on a completely new computer setup in an attempt to enhance, failing to enhance once again, and then spending two days going back and forth on the phone with IT specialists, I was told “enhance” was not a thing.

My inability to enhance was another tremendous blow to the investigation.

Or it would have been, except that the picture appeared another time in the show, in the season one episode, “Terms of Embarrassment,” when Bowie put it in his video for Andi.

Should I have started this chapter with this picture? Probably!

But I wanted you to know I had to suffer through several long conversations with IT nerds where they were constantly rude to me about what I could and could not do on a computer. They kept making snide remarks about how I spent way too much on a setup I didn’t need, and I kept telling them I called to get tech support, not a lecture. It was very trying.

Anyway, now that you know that, let’s “enhance” this picture.

Just as I had thought: Cyrus Goodman, wearing a costume.

But what was that costume? Who -- or what -- was he dressed as?

The hard work began again. After weeks of research, during which I spent thousands of dollars purchasing and reviewing Blu-ray movies and television show collections, I was finally able to make an educated guess. His costume appeared to be the fictional character Bunga.

To confirm, I went looking for official Bunga costumes on the internet.

I found only these toddler-sized ones:

Not a match to Cyrus’s costume. A set-back to the theory to be sure.

However, I assumed that Cyrus, since he is marginally larger than a toddler, also ran into the same problem I did and therefore had to make his own Bunga costume.

Luckily, if you were looking to make such a costume, there are a few pictures online of homemade Bunga costumes that could help guide you in the process, like this one I found from an enthusiastic fan on Pinterest.

Seemed like a match to Cyrus’s costume. The theory was back on track.

All of this led to the next important question the investigation needed to answer: who is Bunga?

Bunga is a character from the animated TV show, The Lion Guard.

This is Bunga.

According to one of the greatest sources of man’s collective knowledge, The Lion Guard fandom wiki, Bunga is Timon and Pumbaa’s adoptive nephew.

This raises a lot of questions, not the least of which about the nature of Timon and Pumbaa’s relationship.

Also, can you just adopt a nephew? What legal rights does that give you? Those of an uncle? What are those? Is that just the right to pick up your nephew from school when his parents are busy? The right to drink too much at a family gathering and start talking politics? The right to take your nephew to a horror movie he’s too young to see that’s going to give him nightmares for the next decade?

I interviewed several lawyers who told me Avuncular Law was not a thing. They also didn’t want to go on record answering hypotheticals about talking animals adopting each other. This didn’t really impede the investigation in any way, but it was wildly unsatisfying on a personal level to not get these answers.

Anyway, The Lion Guard fandom wiki tells us that some of Bunga’s personality traits include: “[having] a soft spot for baby animals,” “[being] somewhat of a comedian who likes telling jokes to his friends in which they sometimes find funny,” and “also at times, Bunga can be clever at times.”

Bunga is also considered very “brave.”

All told, it’s easy to see why Cyrus might be drawn toward Bunga. He shares some of his lighter traits, while he also likely admires Bunga’s courage.

So we know that Cyrus watches The Lion Guard and likes the character Bunga.

But what does that have to do with anything?

Well, if you dig a little deeper, here’s where the connection gets interesting. According to IMDb, Bunga is voiced by Joshua Rush.

Now you’re probably asking yourself the same thing I was: who is Joshua Rush?

Joshua Rush is an actor.

According to IMDb, he’s 5′7 and a half, bilingual, and also, Alec Baldwin once played a character named Joshua Rush in the 1980s.

I don’t know what that means.

What I do know is this: on Joshua Rush’s IMDb page are a collection of pictures of him, and that’s where I found the most staggering turn in the investigation yet:

I let out an audible gasp upon seeing this.

Now, mind you, I’d been so deep into researching this post at this point that hadn’t slept in well over four days and I was on so much cough medication I forgot shapes, but this was still absolutely shocking to me.

Look at these two side-by-side:

The image on the left is a promotional still from Actor Joshua Rush’s IMDb page, the image on the right is of Cyrus from a season one episode.

Now there are obviously some slight differences, like their facial expressions or where on their shoulder they rest the strap of their satchel, but besides that, Actor Joshua Rush’s likeness to Cyrus is stunning.

In fact, you might almost say he’s a mirror-image, a double, a... doppelgänger?

So that leaves us with the final question to be answered: has Cyrus Goodman met Actor Joshua Rush?

Picture, if you would, a voice actor meet and greet. Do you have the image in your mind?

Are you thinking of a convention center?

Are you seeing fans lined up to meet voice-over artists? They stand around for an hour or two awaiting the opportunity to shake a hand or take a selfie or get a headshot signed by one of their heroes.

Now imagine Cyrus Goodman being one of those fans. Waiting for a chance to meet the voice actor for his favorite character on one of his favorite shows: The Lion Guard.

He gets to the front of the line and sees the actor. Maybe they shake hands. Maybe Cyrus says something nice about his acting ability. Cyrus notes their similarities in his mind. Wow! We look so oddly alike! he thinks. There’s a German word for this exact situation. I’ll have to look it up later. But not in Robert Cawdrey’s A Table Alphabeticall, because I guess it’s not in there or whatever.

Perhaps, he also thinks, this could be an interesting little anecdote I might one day share with a friend while he teaches me to skateboard.

He departs shortly thereafter and leaves the convention center. The two never cross paths again, but Cyrus always remembers.

It’s plausible.

It’s definitely plausible.

But it’s not certain.

And unfortunately, plausible but not certain is where this story ends. Speculation is as good as we can do. I doubt we’ll ever get confirmation about this.

As best I can tell in my research, Actor Joshua Rush is one of those reclusive celebrity types like J.D. Salinger or Daniel Day-Lewis or Joffrey from Game of Thrones. Very quiet, reserved. Probably lives on farm somewhere. No social media accounts or anything like that. Definitely not the type to troll an entire fandom on tumblr with incomprehensible emoji clues. Make you spend several hours trying to figure out what 🌭 means like I’m some stupid modern day hieroglyphologist. Sausage? Relish? What does a burger have that a taco doesn’t?! It’s two in the morning and I’m fifteen paragraphs deep into the Wikipedia article for sandwiches, poring over the words like I’m on the precipice of discovery, like learning that “Oreos and Custard Creams are described as sandwich biscuits (UK/Commonwealth) or sandwich cookies (US) because they consist of a soft filling between the baked layers” is going to be the key to something, that it’s going to be meaningful to me in some way. Well guess what? Not even close! It’s fine. I’m not still mad about this. It’s fine.

I’m fine.

Dan Castellaneta, the voice actor for Homer Simpson, once told Buzzfeed he improvised the “Yes, once” response intending it to mean that Homer had previously seen someone say goodbye to a shoe. But, he admitted, the other interpretation was funnier.

And so that was that.

Years of debate settled with a whimper. The official version? The better version? There was zero forethought put into it. The joke was whatever you wanted it to be.

One thing is for certain, hearing from the actor didn’t help anything. In fact, it probably just made things worse. So I’ll tell you this much, the last thing any of us needs is for Actor Joshua Rush to ruin the mystery by weighing in on this. I never want to hear from him on it.

Never.

Because maybe it’s for the best we never get a concrete answer. The joke is whatever you want it to be. We are the makers of our own reality.

Me personally? I spent half a year working on this and I’ve learned to live in the mystery. To me, Cyrus’s doppelgänger exists and it doesn’t. It’s answered and it’s still a mystery. It’s Iris, it’s Actor Joshua Rush, it’s you and it’s me.

It is everything. And it is nothing.

And I accept that.

Or perhaps... perhaps I just tell myself I’m okay with that answer so I can try to sleep again at night.

#Andi Mack #Cyrus Goodman #discussion

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apriorisea · 5 years

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I dont know if you watch the nick jonas and his wifes vogue interview but there was a moment that nick pulls her chair closer. I thought maybe you can do something like that with bts

–I hadn’t seen the interview, but I went and watched it at your recommendation and oh my goodness, it’s such a cute little moment! Here’s my take on the scenario, I hope you like it!! 💕💜

You x Namjoon“Two Years Into Forever”

You let Namjoon help you out of your coat and smile at the attendant who takes it from him and hangs it up. “Thank you so much,” you say to the man with a smile, waiting for your husband to wriggle out of his own jacket. He gives a half-bow. “Of course. Enjoy yourself, ma’am.” “Absolutely,” you say, taking Namjoon’s offered arm. “Have a good night.” The two of you step into the entrance hall and when he stops to check his reflection in the giant mirror on the wall, you roll your eyes. “Here,” you say irritably, turning him towards you and fixing his tie. “Thanks so much,” he says, a deadpan imitation of your over-the-top kindness to the attendant earlier. You swallow a retort, knowing neither one of you would be proud of your behavior later. You turn to check yourself in the mirror and take a small breath; the argument in the car had been so ridiculous, but there hadn’t been time to really resolve it before you’d arrived at the wedding venue. It had been a busy week (a busy week leading into an even busier next week) and both of you had let the stress drive you to bickering that had morphed into an actual argument. “Ready?” He’s holding his arm out to you again, but his gaze is already fixed on the flower arches that lead into the venue. You smooth a strand of hair back into place and then turn towards him, studying him for a moment. You take a small breath and then slip your arm through his. “We can do this, right?” you murmur pointedly as he helps you up the stairs to the first flower arch. “Of course,” he answers stiffly. “Tonight is about them.” You bite down on your sharp reply as he pulls open the door. As soon as you step into the reception, you’re intercepted by couple after couple, all friends who want to compliment how good the two of you look together, how pretty your dress is, how long it had been since they’d seen you, how beautiful the party looked. You and Namjoon get separated at one point, and you have warring feelings of bitterness and needing him by your side. Almost like he’d heard you, he appeared suddenly, handing you a drink but turning away before you could speak. Jerk. You turn away from him, scanning the crowd for other friends and acquaintances. “Hey!” One of the groomsmen pops into view. He crushes you two together as he gives you a joint hug. “How is my favorite couple??” You smile tolerantly, but stand back to let Namjoon handle the conversation. “Good, good,” he says, shaking the groomsman’s hand. “Nice to see you.” “You guys, too—you look great. Actually, can I borrow you guys for a second?” He’s smiling so wide that you can see all of his teeth. “We’ve got this little studio set up, and we’re asking couples to come in and record a little video message with some advice for the bride and groom!” “Oh,” Namjoon hesitates. “We just got here, and—” “Come on,” he wheedles. “They desperately need advice from everyone’s favorite couple! You know you guys are relationship goals.” You sigh quietly, knowing that he wouldn’t go away until he had what he wanted. “Sure,” you say, giving him a bright smile. “Where do we need to go?” He gives an elated little cheer, and gestures towards the back of the hall. Namjoon puts his hand gently on the small of your back, guiding you forward, and then follows close behind. The “studio” is a small room off the side of the main hall that’s been setup with a handheld camera and a couple of high-backed fancy stools in front of a flowery backdrop. The groomsman introduces you to the “director” and then disappears with a bright smile and a “You guys are the best!!” The director is an old friend of Namjoon’s and they chat easily while he sets up the camera. He leads the two of you towards the stools. “All right, man, we’ll have you there,” he says, pointing to the far stool, “And your wife here—you both look great, by the way.” You smile politely and gather the skirt of your dress in preparation to climb onto the high stool, but before you can figure out just how you’re going to do it, Namjoon appears and lifts you easily onto the seat. He stays a moment, making sure you’re settled, then goes to his own spot. The two stools have quite a bit of space between them, and you smile to yourself a little bitterly as you realize the setup is a perfect representation of the post-fight distance between the two of you right now. Pushing it aside, you smooth your dress and smile at the camera, preparing for the interview. “All right, you two,” the director says. “This video is a little “welcome to marriage” diary for the happy couple, and we wanted to interview as many rock-solid couples as possible, just get your best advice, you know. So…how long have you been married? How long have you been together?” Namjoon answers first. “We’ve been married for 2 years, known each other for 5.” “2 years, huh?” the man repeats. “Still in the honeymoon phase, or not so much?” He directs this question at you. You smile politely. “In some ways, I don’t think we’ll ever move out of the honeymoon phase. It just gets better and better.” You try not to think about the irritable frost between you. The director nods encouragingly. “You guys sure seem like a great couple.” He looks at Namjoon. “I mean, tell us about your wife, man—how did you get so lucky?” “You know…” Namjoon looks over at you, his quick mind already whirling towards an answer, but as soon as you meet his eyes, he freezes. The softest smile crosses his face and you can actually see all the leftover prickliness melt away. “She’s perfect,” he says, and as all your defenses are melting away, he suddenly reaches over and grabs the stool’s legs, pulling you carefully towards him until you are nestled against his side. He slings his arm around the back of the seat, bringing you even closer, and then nods. “That’s better. Anyway, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to explain my luck. She’s honestly just my best friend in the whole world, and I can’t imagine my life without her.” He’s tenderly tracing patterns into your shoulder with the arm slung around you and you almost want to cry at his honest praise. The stupid argument from the car flashes through your mind and you feel equal parts guilty and relieved that it was now officially over. Taking a small breath, you shift in your seat, cuddling against him a little more and reach over to take his free hand in one of yours. “So you followed the old adage of marry your best friend,” the director sums up. He looks at you. “Do you agree with that sentiment?” You nod immediately, smiling as you feel Namjoon softly run his thumb over your knuckles, glad to have a chance to voice your own praise. “He just makes everything easier, you know? Having my best friend at my side all the time just makes everything easier. And it’s never boring. I think I learn something new about him everyday, even though I feel like we both know every corner of each other’s soul perfectly.” “Married life is a pretty easy ride, right? The boat never gets rocked?” You think of the way the two of you had entered the reception, your bitter exchange in the hallway, and feel the tips of your ears go pink. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” you laugh lightly, looking up at Namjoon. He meets your eyes and squeezes your hand a little sheepishly. “It’s not always sunny,” he admits, not looking away from your face. “But even through the craziest storms or the dumbest little disagreements, we’re still a team. She’s still the person I trust the most, the only one I want to talk to when I’m happy or sad….” You smile as he trails off. “The best part about marriage is having that rock, that partner-in-crime. I rely on him like no one else, and even when we disagree, I know he’s still my protector and my lifeline all in one.” Every trace of the earlier argument has disappeared, and all you can think as you look into your husband’s eyes is how much you love this man. Evidently, he’s thinking along the same lines because he leans forward suddenly, pressing his lips tenderly to yours. “I love you,” he says softly as he pulls back. “I love you, too.” Someone coughs in the background, and the color rushes to your face as you suddenly remember that the two of you are not alone. “Wow,” the director says. “You two really are just in your own little world, aren’t you?” “I’m so sorry,” Namjoon says, but he can’t stop smiling, secretly pleased with himself: you know how much he loves to show you off in public. He squeezes your hand and settles back in his seat. “I promise we’ll behave from now on.” You’re still blushing furiously, but you take a small breath and smooth back a strand of your hair. “Yes, sorry about that.” The director laughs. “Nah, don’t worry. You guys are adorable. So, what would you say is the most important thing to remember about marriage?” Namjoon fields this question, so you settle back in your seat and listen to him talk: now that the tension between you two had evaporated, the words rolled more easily off his tongue, and as he talks you can feel him playing with the ends of your hair. You turn to watch him, unable to keep the slightly-goofy smile off your face as you listen to his familiar, calming cadence. Throughout the rest of the interview, he runs his fingertips over your neck and back, squeezes your hand, bumps his shoulder against yours, and once he even kisses your cheek at the end of one of your answers. You find yourself completely grateful for this silly little video interview, for the way it had so perfectly fixed the tiny rift between the two of you. When you’re finally done, Namjoon gets to his feet and then turns to face you. He kisses your forehead and then murmurs against your skin, “I’m sorry, my love. I was being ridiculous.” “I’m sorry, too,” you say, grabbing the lapels of his suit jacket and holding him in place. “I adore you.” He grins and pulls back. “Let’s go find some food, yeah?” “Yes!” you agree eagerly. “Plus, we should probably find the newlyweds at some point…” “Probably.” He puts his hands on your waist and helps you down from the stool; he doesn’t let go once you’re on your feet. Turning slightly towards his friend, he gives a small wave. “Thank you!” His arm still wrapped around your waist, he guides you out of the studio room, but once you’re in the secluded hallway, he spins you around to face him. “You really are my best friend,” he says seriously, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. You smile. “And you’re mine, sweetest husband in the entire world.” You eagerly accept his kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck when he tries to pull away too soon. When you finally break apart, you straighten his tie again. “You look so good, babe. I kinda wish we were home right now…” “Oh yeah?” He raises one eyebrow at you, making your heart race. “Well…maybe we just go congratulate the happy couple, grab a few snacks, and head back home…?” The silly butterflies he had always given you fill your stomach again and you nod. “Yes, please.” He kisses you again, then slips his hand into yours. “Okay, love. Let’s go.”

#bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts clean imagines #REQUESTS #non-smut #BTS #bts fluffy imagines #fluffy #bts imagine namjoon #namjoon #RM #Anonymous

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queenattheopera · 5 years

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Opening Number, Part 5

Prompt: This is the story of the band that skyrocketed beside Queen and how their singer was fated to be with one of them.

Warning: Cussing and implied smut

If you want to catch up with previous parts they’re linked on my Masterlist in my bio

January 1, 1971

If it weren’t for the enticing smell of food I don’t think I would’ve considered leaving my bed. Sitting up I could feel my head pounding. I grimsed and closed my eyes. I refused to move for a few seconds. I could feel the intense pounding in the back of my head, it me a few deep breaths to find some relief but i knew that wasn't going to last. So I tried to redirect my attention to recalling what happened last night.

I took some shots, danced with Fred, and then I made out with someone. I couldn't seem to remember who it was but I remember how their hands felt as they roamed my body. I remember their lips exploring just as much as their hands did. I remember the smell of alcohol in their breath and how intoxicating their scent was. I sighed and opened my eyes. The noise in the kitchen hadn't stopped but I was too nervous to see who was causing it.

Who do i want it to be?

As I pushed myself off my mattress, I was met with nothing but cold air. I pulled the comforter off the bed and wrapped myself with it. As I'm tried taking the first few steps away from the bed frame I began to limp. Sore could barely describe how my legs felt. As I try to move further the blanket gets caught on something, not caring enough to find out I decide to yank it. I heard something fall but it didn't sound broken so I continued to make my way towards the mysterious figure in my home. The closer I got the more anxious I became. I could feel my heart begin to race. As it sped up more and more, it was all I could hear. I was about to turn into the kitchen when they stepped out.

I froze and forced myself to make eye contact with the them.

“...Noah?”

“I was wondering when you would get out of bed.” My stomach dropped. I don't think i slept with him, right? Not that he's not attractive, but he's my best friend. “Are you okay? You left really early last night, I mean I don't think you got any sleep going from the bags under your eyes.” I don't want to look at him because I felt beyond embarrassed but I need to know what happened last night.

“Wait so we didn't..?” He was silent for a few seconds before beginning to laugh, “Wow you must have been fucked up if you really thought that we would ever do anything.I mean no offense-” Before he could finish I punch his shoulder. “Shut up!” I feel my face growing warmer but I was relieved that he wasn’t the open who I had slept with.

“What the hell are you doing here anyway?” He walks towards the dining room but I don't make any move to follow him. “Cmon, at least take a look to see what I did.” Rolling my eyes I begin to make my way over while trying to hide the extremely obvious limp with the comforter. I'm sure he noticed after he snorted but he didn't say anything.

“Ta-da! I made you a birthday breakfast!” Seeing the table setup my eyes begin to water. He had made all my favorite foods and there were even a few gifts in the corner of my room. I looked at him and he had the biggest proudest smile plastered on his face. He was admiring his work but his smile disappeared when he saw that I began to cry.

“What happened? Did I do something wrong? I mean I know it's just me but I remember you told me not to tell anyone else and that you usually celebrate alone. I just thought you would like this.” I laughed at his rambling and wiped the tears away.

“It’s fine Noah, It's actually perfect, I just haven't really had a party or anything since my parents passed away. I- um Thank you..” His demeanor changed, and instead of getting a look of pity, he smiles and gives me a hug. “Why don't you go clean up and get dressed so we could eat and you could open your gifts okay?” I nod and go back to my room.

Walking back towards my room I see a puddle, I guess when the blanket got stuck I had knock over a glass of water resting on my nightstand. Bending down to pick up the glass I find a piece of paper under my bed.

Sorry I couldn't stay love. Let me make it up to you. I’ll pick you up tonight around 9. -hbsdcbaib I reread the paper a few times, then I just stared at the smug as I tried to decipher whose name was written.

I want to scream. I feel nothing but anger towards myself. If I hadn't spilled that water on the note than I would have known exactly who the I slept with last night. Instead my lover is faceless.

There was nothing I could do but wait. I grab some clothes and head towards the bathroom. Before I entered, I let the blanket fall than close the door. I standing in front of the mirror I take in every detail. My eyes look much worse than to what Noah had led me to believe. Then there was my neck and chest. I was covered in bite marks and hickies. When I turned to step into the bath tub I could feel some tenderness in my hips. Looking down I see bruises, resembling someone's hands. When looking at my legs, I’m met with two more hickies.

Ignoring the achiness I take a hot shower. As I'm standing there I think back to last night. I remember the passion and roughness that my counterpart used. When he had me against the wall or when his head was between my legs. He was confident with very move. He worshiped my body. Together we fit like puzzle pieces. I could feel the heat between my legs begin to intensify. I push it away and finish my shower. After I'm dressed I look into the mirror. I know Noah has seen most the marks on my neck but I still had the urge to cover them. I grabbed some makeup and covered most of them. The others were too dark to hide so I grabbed a turtle neck from my closest and changed. Satisfied with eth look I walked back toward the dining room.

“Finally, do you know how hard it was to have all this food but not to be able to eat any of it.” I laugh and sit down across from him. I don't say anything as I grab a fork and stab the food in the plate. None of it ever makes it into my mouth a dn instead just gets moved around. I could feel Noah's concerned gaze on me but neither of say anything. He comes around the table and bends down to my height.

“Did something happen? If something did you don't have to tell me, but just know that I'm here for you. And if it was one of the guys, I swear I'll kill them.” I smile and roll my eyes. “No you won't, you'll have Em do it.” He laughs but he still looks worried. I sighed, i think back to last night. “I was um, um I was almost attacked last night.” I can't bring myself to look up at him, I was embarrassed, blaming myself for what could’ve happen.

“Who?” I look at him and i'm surprised by how intense his gaze his. A few tears slip out, my anxiety and stress had finally taken hold of the wheel. “Don’t worry about it, Im fine, it was nothing. Its what happened after. Roger saved me. Then Brian and John comforted me. Then i slept with someone and I don't even know how. They left a fucking note that I ruined so now I have no idea who it was from. I’m confused and I don't know what to do and my head hurts and -” I couldn't finish my sentence because I began to cry. Well I was actually sobbing. This only increased the pain I was feeling and it made me feel weak and powerless.

Noah holds me and doesn't say anything. He pulls away when I had started to calm down. “Its okay, it's going to be okay. Let's figure this out. You should eat, I'm going to call the gang and Freddie.”

After sitting there for a minute or two began to eat. I don't have much of an appetite but I forced myself to eat and drink a glass of water. When Noah came back he cleaned up and began to hide the gifts. I silently thanked him for still considering how I felt about my birthday. Just as we had finished cleaning up there was a knock at the door. It must have been Fred because everyone else had a key.

I walked towards the order. I was happy when I noticed that i could walk normally despite the ache. When I opened the door the first thing Freddie did was gasp. “Oh you poor thing! Come here love.” Freddie pulled me into a hug. I guess the crying made my makeup run and that's why he gasped. He didn’t say anything. All he did was shush me an rub my back. It was actually really comforting. When I pulled away freddie began to fix my hair. I smiled softly before taking his hand off my hair. I led him inside. “Thanks for coming Freddie, I'm sorry if you were busy, we shouldn't have called.” I didn't want to be another and I wasn't feeling my best. Frankly I didn't have the energy to be my usually bubbly self. “Nonsense darling, I'll always be here for you.” He rubs my shoulder and gives me the biggest smile.

“Alright love, since we dont know whos coming to pick you up, let's get you dolled up.”

“Lets get her comfortable first, Y/n, we know youre probably aren't feeling up to anything right now so here's what we're gonna do. You're going to take some pain medication, take a nap then we'll get you ready okay.” Emily had let herself in and was beginning to take charge. Usually Fred and her would annoy each other but after their silent communication Freddie turned to me and smiled. “She's right love, get some rest.” I looked between the too and nodded. Once I was in my room I began to run last night over and over again. I felt stupid, I got drunk last night for a reason, now I'll have to live with the haunting my actions for the rest of my life.

“Hey y/n, Em told me to give this to you.” Charlie handed me the medicine and sat at the foot of my bed. “I know how you are. I know you're blaming yourself right now but I also know that it's not. You're okay. We're here for you.” I took the pills and nodded. “Thank you.”

In the next few hours while I slept, my house guests cleaned and prepared everything for me. They had set aside an outfit they knew I would like and they spoke about how they would help me feel better.

When I woke up my headache was alleviated and I felt more nervous than ever. I stood up to find an outfit set hanging on my closet door. I put it on and reapplied my make-up. When i walked out of my bedroom I found the gang in my living room playing scrabble.

“Y/n you're up!” I walk to them and Noah gets up and offers me his spot. He then walks away. I turn to the others looking for soe response as to what they're doing.

“It's your turn.” When i look u at them, i realize they are speaking to me. I make a calculated move. Noah comes back with some tea. They don't bring up anything from yesterday and instead play a friendly game of scrabble. Their passive actions put me at ease. I became so focused on the game I forgot about yesterday. It was what Emilly planed. They distracted me, they took my focus away from all the bad and gave me a moment of peace.

Before I knew it, t was 8:50. “Alright y/n, your dates gonna get be here but were going to be in the bedroom. They’ll be here soon. I know you're going to be nervous, but if you ever feel uncomfortable, just know we're here for you.” “Yes darling, and if any of the boys do anything, then ill kick their arses. You know I was pretty good boxer.” I smile and nod. “Thank you, I mean in.” I pull Em and Fred into hug. Charlie and Noah don't hesitate to join. I watch as they walk into the bedroom and close the door. I take deep breaths but I could feel myself getting nervous all over again. I'll admit it's not as bad as before but I was still really anxious. I was spacing in the living room while trying to relax.

I jumped when I heard a knock at the door. I was frozen and I stopped breathing for a second. When they knocked again I let out my the breath I was holding in. I moved cautiously towards the door. I unlocked the door and put my hand on the doorknob. Here goes nothing.

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imagine-loki · 6 years

Text

The Witch's Familiar

TITLE: The Witch’s Familiar CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 14/? AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine getting so attached to Lokitty early on that you insist on carrying him just about everywhere. RATING: T (so far) NOTES/WARNINGS: Also on AO3 Click here

“What are we wearing to this… party?” Loki asked on the elevator ride back up to your rooms. He sounded nervous. You took his hand and brushed your thumb over the back of it, reassuring.

“We’re wearing our battle costumes,” you told him gently. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. It’ll be loud and obnoxious and probably full of Tony being drunk and people acting stupid,” you added, equally gently. It really wasn’t going to be an event that Loki would like. Hell, it wasn’t going to be an event that you would like, but you were obligated to go. Tony had made you promise.

“You will be there,” Loki replied carefully.

“Because I have to go. It’s supposed to be fun. Tony insists it will be. I don’t believe him, but I have to show up at least for a little while,” you told him, whining. You just wanted to sit on a couch with a purring Lokitty and a book.

“Then I will join you and we will protect each other,” Loki’s voice was warm, obviously caring about you and your well-being, but you could hear the nerves in his voice. He didn’t want to spend the evening with the mortals, with Tony, or his loud drunken friends.

“Lokitty, just stay here. You’ll be safer and happier and won’t have mortals stepping on your tail. I know how you feel about them not giving you a chance,” you insisted. You didn’t want to see him suffering through this party.

“Nonsense. It would be dishonorable to let you face this battle alone,” he said in such a lofty formal tone that you couldn’t help laughing. He seemed pleased that you had relaxed. You kissed his cheek when you were outside of your room. It had become a friendly, caring, gesture over the last few weeks when you couldn’t reach the spot between the cat-ears on top of his head.

“Wait for me and we can go down to the ballroom together,” you suggested.

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” he agreed quickly. He lifted your hand and bowed over it as he kissed your knuckles. You smiled at the old-fashioned gesture and ducked into your room to get ready for the party. You used magic to summon your battle armor. It was a pain to put on normally. Coulson had given you a new set when yours was destroyed in the explosion. It now had gold trim with the green and black. You had a feeling he was trying to ship you and Loki too. But it looked cool and was functional, so you didn’t complain. You did your hair and put on makeup since this was a party and made sure your wand was wrapped securely around your wrist pretending to be a bracelet. You didn’t want to be without it among all these people, most of whom you wouldn’t know.

You carefully settled your witch’s hat on your head, securing it in place with magic. You took a glance in the mirror before you left your room. You looked tiny, innocent, and adorable. It was the exact look Coulson had been going for in your costume, a cute little witch who helped out the team and saved the world. There were negative connotations about witches being evil, so he’d designed your costume to look adorable, despite that it was mostly black. You were also careful to keep up a cheerful, polite, kind demeanor at all times. It had gotten you the reputation of being America’s sweetheart and the public loved you.

You stepped out into the hall and saw Loki waiting for you in his full battle armor, including his golden horned helmet. You saw the illusions hiding his cat-ears and tail. You only saw the illusions because you were a witch. They were very well done. You also noted that he chose his current armor setup and not the set from New York. Wise choice. “Hope you weren’t waiting too long,” you greeted him with a smile. He was leaning against the wall with a book in one hand. He vanished the book and looked over at you as he stood.

“Not at all,” he replied with a smile.

“Good job on the illusions,” you told him by way of complimenting his appearance. He would be uncomfortable if you told him how hot his battle armor was. Instead, you complimented his skills, which he would appreciate more.

“You look lovely as ever, little sorceress,” he replied warmly, accepting your praise for what it was. He hesitated a moment, but finally said: “I wanted to ask before we head to Tony’s party: would you allow me the honor of escorting you on a proper date this Saturday evening?”

“It would be my honor,” you replied automatically, just as formally as his question had been. You’d been waiting for him to ask after all. “Where are we going?” you asked curiously.

“It is a surprise,” you gave him a look. The last date you had gone on had not turned out well. Neither had the ones before that. You weren’t sure you trusted surprises, even from him. “Trust me, love. It will be a pleasant surprise. At the worst, we will have a fun evening out and remain friends.” You relaxed at that. You could accept the surprise fun evening if there was no pressure that you’d lose your best friend if the dating thing somehow didn’t work out.

“Alright, but you’re going to have to give me some clue or I’ll have no idea what to wear,” you informed him with a teasing smile. You saw his grin and the glimmer of mischief and fun in his eyes.

He offered you his arm. “Shall we?” you hesitated before you took it. He looked surprised and a little hurt that you didn’t take his arm automatically like you usually did.

“Not that I mind,” you told him quickly “but if we go down to that party arm-in-arm every single person there is going to assume that we’re dating and it will end up all over the news and tabloids. I don’t mind,” you repeated firmly. “I just want to make sure that you’re ok with it,” you knew how shy he was even around the team, though they were all starting to warm up. Out among normal people who would probably recognize and hate him for trying to take over the world? It was already amazing enough that the magic school accepted him with little to no question. He was a cat and a god, of course he’d tried to take over the world. Everything had worked out in the end, so the witches and wizards moved on. It’s what they did. Muggles were harder to convince.

“You wish to make sure I feel safe?” Loki mused with a warm smile. He looked truly touched that you were thinking of his feelings. “I promised to face this challenge with you,” he reminded you and offered you his arm again. You smiled and placed your hand on his offered arm. “This might be fun after all,” he commented as you walked to the elevator to head to the ballroom. He would enjoy the press having a field day.

You tightened your grip on his arm when you stepped off of the elevator, glad for his presence. The ballroom was packed. Everyone was in costume, though the rule was that only the team were allowed to dress as Avengers. At least your friends would be easy to find. You didn’t know how or why Tony had invited so many people to this stupid thing. “It’s alright, love,” Loki’s voice was kind, but you saw his tail bristle under the illusion spell. He wasn’t comfortable in this crowd either. You steeled your spine and courage and stepped into the room proper.

“Let’s go get drinks,” you told Loki and gestured to the bar. “That’s where Stark’s likely to be and we can’t escape until he sees us here,” you added. Loki inclined his head to indicate that he’d heard you over the crowd and he led you to the bar. The crowd seemed to part for him and you couldn’t tell if it was magic or his presence that was getting them to move.

“You two finally decided to show up!” Tony exclaimed when you reached the bar and handed you each a drink.

“You threatened me if I didn’t,” you glared at him.

“You need to have fun sometimes too, kid,” he teased, “even if it’s forcefully. Now have fun,” he told you and shooed you toward the dance floor. You weren’t going near the dance floor until you had to, or until Tony played something you could actually dance to instead of this…club music. Instead, you found the science bros corner. It was a quiet corner where Bruce and Doctor Strange were currently hanging out.

“Nice illusions, not-a-cat,” Strange greeted Loki when you two made your way over. Loki bristled, not liking being teased by Strange who didn’t really trust or like him.

“Stop that,” you told Loki firmly and kissed his cheek to calm him. “Strange teases, it’s what he does. You can’t stab him for it,” you added quickly before Loki could do just that.

“The press is loving you,” Strange said sarcastically, commenting on the pictures that were being taken of you being escorted by Loki and of course that kiss on the cheek. You shrugged.

“No one cares what the press thinks,” you replied more bravely than you felt.

“I think you’ll care when they put out the story that America’s sweetheart is being courted by a reformed super villain,” Strange countered. You shrugged again.

“They’ll learn what he’s really like, eventually. Until then, who better to prove that he’s not evil than ‘America’s Sweetheart’?” you replied. Loki raised your hand to his lips to kiss, grateful that you were standing up for him.

You chatted with Strange and Bruce until your drinks were gone. You vanished the empty glasses back to the bar, then went to go find the others. You couldn’t escape from the crowd until the entire team had seen you here. Thor was overjoyed to see Loki here and clapped him on the shoulder jovially, while Loki growled at the treatment. Nat and Clint were on the dance floor. Cap was hanging out with some WWII friends and nodded to you when he saw you.

You grinned when one of the line dances started and dragged Loki out onto the dance floor by the hand. He followed, letting you drag him like a well-loved stuffed animal, or your best friend, which he was. “I do not know this dance,” he protested feebly, interested by all the people dancing in sync. So you taught him the electric slide.

A slow song started and he looked equally confused at this dance. You wrapped your arms around his neck, his arms went automatically around your waist. “I know, it’s not like a proper ball,” you empathized with him mournfully. “There’s no finesse to these… slow dances. Not like the waltz. You just kind of…hold your partner and sway,”

“That can be enjoyable as well,” Loki’s voice was a purr as he held you close to him. His lips touched your forehead. “Quite enjoyable, though you are correct. This is nothing like a proper ball. There is no finesse, no style, no… emotion in the dance itself.” You both ignored the press taking pictures of the pair of you.

Thor grabbed both of your arms later in the evening, once most of the crowd was dying out and dragged you over to the bar where the others on the team were gathering. “Thor!” you both protested.

“C’mon, you two, it’s tradition!” Tony exclaimed. “Thor, you brought it, right?” he asked. Thor let you and Loki go now that you were at the bar with the others. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a giant flask.

“What tradition is this?” you asked Nat.

“Stark wants to get shitfaced off of Asgardian booze. So he makes us all drink it, forgetting that it takes a lot more of the stuff to get those of us who aren’t normal humans shitfaced,” she explained quickly as she took her shot from Thor as he passed them out. You shrugged and took one too. You weren’t a normal human either.

“Be careful with this,” Loki warned as he accepted one as well.

“It has been aged 1000 years,” Thor reminded the team. “And not for mortals,” he glared at Tony, who downed his shot, regardless of the warning.

“How many shots does it take to get you drunk, anyway?” Tony demanded as he watched you down the shot.

You shrugged. “More than a human, less than Thor,” you answered. You hadn’t tested your limits in a long time. “That stuff is good,” you added to Thor as he refilled your glass.

“Careful,” Thor reminded you again. You nodded and sipped on the second round. Tony was not nearly so careful and was down for the count almost instantly. Clint and Bruce were soon on the losers pile with Tony. You stopped after the second, not wanting to end up drunk. A taste of the stuff was one thing, getting drunk was just silly.

It was getting late and you’d been social much longer than intended, so you turned to Loki, who was watching the antics with amusement. “Lokitty, mind walking me back upstairs?” you asked. He raised an eyebrow, but set his glass on the bar. “Guests are only supposed to have access to this floor of the tower, but mistakes have been made… I’d rather not find out alone that someone snuck into my room,” you explained, though tried to make it sound like it wasn’t a huge concern.

One of the guys always walked you back to your room after these kind of events, usually Thor, since he was the most responsible as the most sober. Nat and Clint always slept in the same bed after these things, claiming it was for protection from nightmares. No one dared dispute their story or tease them. Bruce was safe because of the Hulk, an Iron Man suit guarded Tony, and Thor and Cap were…Thor and Cap. Thor wouldn’t leave you alone last time until you’d created satisfactory shields around your room. There had been one incident since you’d lived here of a drunk girl in a Black Widow costume making it to the living room and passing out there. No one was taking chances with anyone’s safety on the team.

“Of course, darling,” Loki replied warmly. He offered you his arm and nodded a goodbye to the others. He wouldn’t be coming back to the party once he escaped.

“Brother… ” Thor’s tone was a warning. He wanted to say more, to make the suggestion that your relationship was too new and too unofficial to handle without breaking.

“Lady Y/N is perfectly safe in my care,” Loki replied grumpily, growling that Thor questioned his honor. That wasn’t what was going on, but was the obvious conclusion.

“I am not questioning your ability to keep her safe. I merely wish to remind you that it may be necessary to do so, which is uncommon in the safety of the tower,” Thor replied calmly, not offended at Loki’s grumpy reply. “People have slipped past our security into the tower before. Take this responsibility seriously, despite the fact that Lady Y/N asked you lightly,”

“I’m not helpless, Thor,” you grumped at him.

“No, you’re not,” Thor agreed mildly. “But that doesn’t mean you should be stupid,” he replied. You nodded in agreement with that. It was a perfectly logical assessment. You took Loki’s arm more firmly and let him lead you to the elevator.

“Are you alright?” Loki asked you softly, noticing your grip tighten.

You nodded. “Just tired of all of the people,” you admitted softly. The others knew you were an introvert, but only Bruce seemed to really understand how exhausting it was.

“I completely understand,” he agreed, just as shy and introverted as you were. Once the elevator doors had slid shut you both used magic to ditch the costumes, back to comfortable pajamas and normalcy, and Loki dropped the illusions on his cat-ears and tail. You reached up automatically to scratch behind one of his ears. He gave you a warm smile in return. “Are they others taking a buddy with them to look for intruders?” he asked you curiously.

“Nat and Clint are sharing a bed tonight. Tony and one of his suits will be sharing a bed, or hanging out in the lab with Bruce. Hulk will keep Bruce safe. Cap is Cap; I’m not sure he even sleeps. Your brother is well… Thor. He can take care of himself. If not, his roars will wake the entire tower,” you explained on the elevator ride.

“The oaf is quite loud,” Loki agreed. “Is he exaggerating the threat?” he asked softly, his tone demanding a truthful answer.

You didn’t want to worry Loki, but you knew better than to lie to him either. “I don’t think it’s as bad as he’s making it sound, but there have been intruders before, including one since I’ve lived here,” you told him. He nodded, accepting your words, but you saw the worry behind his eyes.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders as you walked down the hall to your room, an overprotective gesture, but you didn’t mind, especially when you had asked him to walk you safely home. You opened the door and stepped aside so he could go in and check for intruders. You knew how this worked and didn’t deny that his honor demanded that he verify you would be safe. Loki peeked his head out of the room a minute later. “It’s safe,” he told you. You nodded and followed him into the room. He hesitated and you saw what he wanted to ask, and saw him try to figure out how without upsetting you or sounding like he was pushing for more than just sleep and protection.

“Lokitty, just stay,” you told him gently and began pulling back the covers on your bed. He just stared, shocked at the suggestion. “You want to make sure I’m safe, especially now that you know it’s a legitimate concern and not just something your idiot brother made up. I’d feel better knowing you’re safe too,”

“You would not think it… forward?” he finally asked, though it sounded like that wasn’t the word he was looking for. It got the concept of his hesitation to you well enough.

“Lokitty,” you sighed in exasperation. “You’re my best friend and I trust you,” you saw a heartbreaking expression in his eyes that anyone would say that they trusted him. “Besides, you’ve slept here plenty of times before,” most of those times he’d been in cat form, but still, it had only been most of those times. “I’m inviting you to stay for sleep and safety. There’s plenty of bed for both of us. So, yes, you’re invited to stay. But if you climb on my face or do any other annoying cat thing to wake me in the middle of the night, you’re never getting another invitation,” you warned him lightly, using the exact words you’d warned his cat-form with.

He chuckled. “Does that mean you wish for me to change forms?” he asked just as lightly, willing to do that if it would make you feel safer about his presence.

“And risk you refusing to turn back again? No. I was just teasing so you’d relax and cool that adorable blush. Especially when there’s no need for a blush over a simple sharing of a sleeping space,” you teased. He laughed and seemed to finally relax. “Now I’m exhausted after having to deal with so many stupid people. Are you staying, or do I need to come with you to make sure your room is clear of intruders too?” you asked and covered a yawn with your hand.

He kissed your forehead. “Take the side of the bed furthest from the door,” he told you firmly. You couldn’t help smiling at his automatic jump to taking the more vulnerable position. “I’ll join you in a minute,” he added warmly. You nodded and climbed into the bed while he went to the door to lock it. You both made the shields around the room, twining your power together. Nothing was getting through those shields. Loki joined you a minute later, sitting against the pillows with a book. The lights in the room went out, but he held a little ball of light in one hand. “Will this disturb you?” he asked, perfectly willing to set the book aside so he didn’t keep you from sleeping.

“Not at all,” you replied, curling yourself comfortably under the covers. “Goodnight, Lokitty,” you bid him warmly and closed your eyes to finally relax after dealing with so many people. You needed to recharge your introvert batteries.

“Sleep well, darling” he bid you softly. His voice was warm honey as he read aloud from the book of poetry he held. You fell asleep listening to his sweet honeyed voice and the lovely cadence of his words and accent, feeling perfectly safe in his company, and knowing that if he was here reading to you that he was safe and happy too.

#Loki #Lover #Imagine #Submitted fic #submission #the witch's familiar #nekoamamori #chapter 14

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