#cyrus don't look

[down-thedrain]

scott pilgrim is the only bisexual man who cant reclaim faggot

[madeline-kahn]

Being in your arms is what I came here for I'll close my eyes if you close the door

HOW FAR WILL WE TAKE IT? ORVILLE PECK & NOAH CYRUS

[naffeclipse]

I don't know when I'll ever write this, but I've had this AU in the back of my mind ever since Bendy and the Dark Revival came out, and it's best to get it out of my head before it festers and rots.

More or less, it's BatDR and the DCA smashed into one. The premise is that you are an animator at Fazbear Studios and Sun and Moon are humans who go by Cyrus and Mani respectively, employed as voice actors. (First AU with human Sun and Moon whoo! don't get attached though) Vanessa is a janitor who is a bit odd, mostly keeping to herself though sometimes you feel like she's starting at your back when you're alone.

Cyrus and Mani perform as extras in the Fazbear cartoon, adding supporting voices for side characters and miscellaneous lines. Cyrus often supplies humorous, wacky, and surreal voices to his performances. Mani tends to get villainous or spooky characters with his deeper, raspier voice. They both enjoy what they do and love that they can work together as brothers.

You can't help but notice Cyrus and Mani. You admire their skill, their passion, and their smiles, and you sometimes even work up the courage to wave at Cyrus or Mani whenever one of the brothers happens to pass by your work desk.

They inspire you—not just with their work, but with their small acts of care. You find coffee on your desk when you return from a meeting with the other animators with a little smiling sun doodled on the cup. Sometimes, Cyrus asks you to join him on a walk since it's your lunch break and you could really use some sunshine and a chance to stretch your legs. When it gets far too late and you're burning the midnight oil, Mani is somehow always there, doing a funny voice to surprise you with a little reminder that it's past your bedtime. He leaves you little treats in blue wrappers, hidden in places on your desk, among your ink and papers.

It's not a surprise that you start drawing a character for them in your rare off hours when you still have the energy to hold a pencil. The Fazbear cartoon could add a new, permanent character. A robotic jester, lanky and tall, but with two forms for the day and night, funny and sweet and mischievous. Cyrus and Mani could both voice him!

That's silly, however. Fazbear Studios does not want your chaotic and half-brained scribbles nor do you dare show the brothers what they inspired—they might hate it. You keep your little jester character tucked away, along with a small doodle of a minor, nobody, gray character who may or may not be a tag along to the main act that is the jester. Your sketches and concept art are hidden away, far from where the light of day or the shine of night will ever see.

It goes missing one day. You're upset and asking everyone who went through your desk. No one confesses. Cyrus tells you that it'll be okay, he'll help you find it. Mani suggests that you keep locks on your drawers from now on.

It's never found, not that you wanted either of them to stumble upon it. Yet, they stay late with you after everyone has gone home, looking for your precious and secretive sketchbook through the many departments of the studio.

Somewhere along the way, Cyrus disappears, promising to return with your sketchbook. You lose Mani in the audio department before, oh, there's Vanessa. She tells you to come to the basement with her—she found your notebook. You're relieved but a little put off by Vanessa and reluctantly follow her down into the dark.

You don't find your sketchbook, but you do find Cyrus slumped against the wall, blood trickling down his temple, and a strange collection of shrines to one of the studio's cartoon characters.

Before you can rush to his side, pain explodes in your skull, cracking white across your vision. You fall to the ground, dazed, as Vanessa gives a cryptic promise to return with the last sacrifice. You manage to crawl across the floor in your pitiful state to reach Cyrus and attempt to revive him, but by then, Mani is walking in. His shock overtakes him but he dodges a swipe of Vanessa's wrench and starts struggling against her. You try desperately to drag Cyrus somewhere safe as he murmurs for you to get out of here, but in the middle of Vanessa's and Mani's fight, she flips a switch and ink begins filling the room.

The black flood sweeps Cyrus away from you. Pages spill out from the inside of Vanessa's vest, dozens of sketches of your jester character. You cry out. Mani looks to you. Vanessa at last shoves Mani into the surge of onyx liquid beside Cyrus, and you watch both of them go under together. You scream their names. She turns to you, grinning.

The last thing you remember is Vanessa shoving your head into the ink.

Then it's the only thing you remember. You're vaguely aware that your jet-black hands are strange and shiny, and that you don't know where you are in this sepia-colored studio, but you know something's not right. You're missing someone, and someone else. You're scared.

You wander around for a bit until you're attacked by monsters emerging from the ink, shrieking and wailing in gluey dark forms until a wonderful and terrifying automaton arrives. He destroys such a creature about to tear you apart. He stands so tall, detailed with sharp teeth and even sharper sun rays around his large, flat face, but you think you recognize those yellow eyes—a living cartoon.

He helps you calm down and asks for your name in a loud and funny voice that rings like a bell in your mind but you can't name the tune. You don't remember your name. He doesn't remember his either. He leads you away from the harsher spaces of the studio, somewhere 'safer'. You don't know if there is anything as safe, but you feel better with him.

You're startled when after a time, in the middle of talking to this sunshine character, he melts and morphs and bubbles until a crescent moon face emerges and a new grin. You panic before a darker, raspier voice, like a cartoon villain, tells you it's alright. He's here, too. He's not sure what's going on but he, and the other 'him', and you are gonna make it out of here, somehow.

You don't have hope anywhere else but in this unique robot jester, and he seems to want you to stay close to him. So it's you two, the last sane partnership in the crazed and dripping studios, fighting off ink creatures and surviving other bizarre characters. You learn how to wield a gent pipe and the jester is strong on his own, often able to tear things apart or toss monsters off of you before they can do worse. He has claws and teeth and he uses them well.

Vanny is a lady rabbit and a constant threat. She's smart and cunning, unlike the other mostly senseless attackers. She keeps tracking the two of you down and spouting off the religious rhetoric of Inktrap, promising that your sacrifices will be well worth the pain. You had to be introduced to the cycle. The ink has corrupted you perfectly. You are part of this place. You are never leaving and will give in to Inktrap.

You and he avoid Inktrap at all costs. You've only caught glimpses of the shadowy, pitch-black beast, but that's all you need to see as you both hide and hold your breaths until the danger just barely passes by.

You start to call the daytime jester Sun, and he seems to respond to it. The nighttime joker is Moon, and he neither hates nor loves it, but he answers when you call. He has a name for you, too, or rather names. Peach, bird, thrill, calico, and sweetheart. He gets creative and goofy. You think he's being mean sometimes but he tells you he's not, he means it, and you don't know how to take that before you two have to focus on escaping this part of the studio and getting into safer areas. You protect his back and he protects yours, and together, you make this living, unending nightmare bearable. Sharing bacon soup, falling asleep in Moon's lap, and patching up any drips in Sun's inky form becomes something like a life.

It just never stops, repeating over and over. The jester deserves better than this, whatever happened to him. You know you both do.

You become determined to learn how the cycle works and how to prevent it from going on. There's a funny feeling you have that, somehow, you're going to have to go through Vanny and the Inkdemon. One day, you will get the jester and yourself free.

You need to see his and your happy ending.

[stephadoodles]

Happy five year anniversary to Andi Mack making Disney history

[vonlipvig]

the devil came in

[salted15]

boy full of rainbow pastelsh

(cirrus made by @cyus-on-the-internet !!)

[agent-toast]

made this a while ago

i dont. know what i was doing cyrus is just too memeable

[lacystar]

miles and phoenix rlly are two sides to the same coin. deadass phoenix is always "it can't possibly be my sweet little pookie defendant :((( how could you say that edgeworth!!" whenever edgeworth is sus of him but then miles turns around is like "it can't possibly be my sweet little pookie gumshoe :(( how could you say that!!" favoritism is REAL in the japanifornia justice system.

[larvabyte]

Cyrus and Gestures

I find it really interesting how often Cyrus uses hand gestures when commanding his pokemon. It's not uncommon for trainers to make dramatic gestures or strike poses while ordering their pokemon but Cyrus' movements look very controlled and deliberate. They're much more like signs than theatrics. (Although that isn't to say Cyrus doesn't love drama. He makes a fist over the "G" on his heart frequently when discussing his ideology and there's no shortage of him yelling with his hands raised above his head. He's a passionate guy even if he denies it.)

I personally headcanon Cyrus as autistic. I think he masks often and to an punishing degree because of how he was raised and his need to be a charismatic speaker/leader for Team Galactic. I can imagine there are plenty of times when Cyrus goes non-verbal as a result. Because pokemon don't hold the same social expectations as humans, Cyrus would feel little incentive to verbalize his directions to them. Additionally, just as they would have to be attentive to him - he would similarly be perceptive of their own mannerisms and signals. This is how I imagine Cyrus has built such an impressive bond with his pokemon.

They seem so in tune with each other that there are plenty of times Cyrus doesn't have to verbalize or even gesture to his pokemon and yet they seem to understand his wants better that those closest to him.

Just as an aside -- I know in most of the examples I've shown, Cyrus is still often verbalizing his moves. Of course, that's part of pokemon media to show off in-game moves and mechanics. But it's kinda terrifying imagining if Cyrus didn't have to say anything in battle especially since his battle style seems to rely on speed and brute force. Weavile's speed is 120 (which is like 12th highest in dppt) and more insanely Crobat is 130 (6th highest). In bdsp his Crobat even has a quick claw. Why???

[villainsidestep]

#< i Can confirm cyrus would actually say “im sorry” but the “i didnt know it was you” is implied (@sidesteppostinghours)

🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 thank u cyrus for saying sorry

[fuckmatpat]

HELP HE GOT BOIS_VERT... ):

NOOOOOOOO

[down-thedrain]

but what if he wasnt entirely dead ahahahahaha

[nightowl1556]

heeeEEEYYYYY!!!!

I just thought of the craziest idea.....

Listen, I know Cassandra is a lesbian and all (I think?), but I have this new, unexpected crackship that came to my mind.....

Have you you ever considered......

Cyrus x Cassandra?

Hear me out:

Imagine after the whole VAT7K ordeal, Cyrus decides to go his own way and decides to leave Donella to go on an adventure for some reason (she supports it by the way) and encounters Cassandra.

Cassandra and Cyrus partner up to beat up bad guys and shit and they slowly start to fall in love.....

[ghost-qwq]

I am normal about shipping playlists (lie)

[infiniterichesinalittleroom]

I do not care very much about myself - and I never have. But the crucial point about 'Music as Art’ is evident in life-changing music that has always happened before anyone expected it. The very best examples are the Sex Pistols, David Bowie, the Ramones, the Velvet Underground, Alice Cooper, and even the Dolls and Iggy: no one saw these monoliths coming, therefore the people discovered them before the industry had time to halt the fun. Now, alas, music cannot happen unless it adheres to strict industry guidelines, and this falsely assures the listening public that things could not possibly be better than they currently are. The infantilised world is delighted to stream music, but if they were asked to walk 50 yards to a record shop to access those very songs … they wouldn’t bother to. However, the connection between the music industry and Cancel Vultures is that they both agree that their main job is to stop singers and bands from saying anything important. Respecting equal freedom for those that you control … is not freedom. Music as Art has now been destroyed because it expands public opinion, and thus, with the current Top 100 downloads … no bubbles can ever rise. Songs once kept listeners occupied for years, but this has been replaced by suspiciously instant stardom for anyone obedient enough to agree that babies are naturally born through the left ear. Proper artists need not apply. Imagination must be paralyzed, and saying nothing whatsoever is the only pathway to all music awards. Look for yourself. Following Britain’s 9/11 abomination at the Manchester Arena, Miley was asked to take part in the Don’t Look Back In Anger event, and she refused. I asked her why she had refused, and she said “I am not into all that.” I write these words mainly for (but not directly about) my audience - who are the best and most incredible audience that anyone could dream of, and perhaps many onlookers are jealous of this fact. I have not ever voted for a political party in my life, and I have not ever joined a political party, and I have not ever attended a political rally. On the political stage, I do not exist: you have never seen me there and you never shall. I therefore do not mind in the least if you join the Morrissey haters - there is always the likelihood that I’d feel exactly the same way about you. But if you join forces with the Cancel Vultures, your only aim is to numb time, and your eyes are dead.

MORRISSEY

[aro-aizawa]

against my better judgement i did indeed buy the saints row 3 remaster and oh boy i should have expected all the bugs