Cyrus - Blog Posts

Nonbinary Icon Cyrus

They are the second oldest child of the royal family of the land of the gods and the current ruler. They have a partner named Aster and takes care of their younger siblings. They like gardening and used to be into woodwork when they were younger, but they have had less time for their hobbies once they became ruler.

P.s. I am so sorry for the horrid background. I tried my best, but I absolutely hate it.

Original paper art below the cut.

YEAH, IT'S A PARTY IN THE USA

HAPPY 4TH OF JULY!!!

"with the amount of glasses they've got here? at least 45% of them are bound to be a little broken." cyrus assured with a slight shake of his head, "not your fault." he'd heard about the memorial, about the extra names, though he hadn't gone himself too busy with chasing his kids around. and he knew zeynep's name was there. he wasn't going to bring it up, but when she volunteered a quip about it, he hummed, "they'll notice." a pause, "we'll notice." it felt easy to provide that assurance. it felt true. in a town like red creek, with a family like zeynep's? he was sure everyone would know, that everyone would worry. he let out a soft sigh, leaning back in his seat, "and it's not going to happen, okay? nothing is going to happen." of course, cyrus couldn't promise that, but it was no use harping on the worst possible outcome, it would get them all nowhere.

location: redstone bar

time & date: february 15 & 6:00pm

status: open to everyone !

“it  was  an  accident,  i  swear!”  the  words  rushed  out  in  a  furious  whisper, she hadn't even noticed that she wasn't alone.  zeynep  pushed the empty glass she had been inspecting away from herself, before signaling the bartender for another around.  “the  glass  was  cracked  when  i  picked  it  up,  who  knows  how  long  it’s  been  defective...right?” she couldn't help but cringe at the sound of her voice, the brief crack felt foreign. no part of her wanted to admit that her name etched into the memorial had left her frightened. zeynep knew fear, it had plagued her nights. every red and blue flashing light had left her in a cold sweat for years. “anyways, apparently i'm on a hit list. they might not even notice before i become the next missing myth in town.” the words flowed so flippantly from her that zeynep could almost fool herself with the feigned nonchalance. “you don't think they'll notice, do you?”

"just respect me? damn. can't even throw a love in there?" cyrus teased, leaning against the kitchen counter and folding his arms across his chest, "you could have just put a few movies on, i wouldn't tell the missus they're going over their screentime for the day." he chuckled. he didn't particularly care about the screentime thing as long they were both still signed up for at least one extracurricular or sport. though, too much time on the ipad seemed like it would rot their brains. "you know i appreciate you watching them." he nodded at tori, "i'd like to think they're less of a handful than our little siblings were." and he was at times too, but cyrus had a knack for rewriting history and any of his own troubles no longer existed in his personal retelling. "they'll eat vegetables, don't you worry. they aren't allowed to get up from the table until they do." he grinned, "zeke sat there until almost nine once when we had brussel sprouts." then he sighed, nodding his head toward her mug, "do you have any decaf?"

LOCATION  :  cromwell  house  . TIME  :  six  o'clock  ,  dinner time  . STATUS  :  closed for @chappcdlips  !

ducking  into  the  kitchen  ,  tori  let  out  the  deep  breath  she  had  been  holding  since  her  niece  and  nephew  had  arrived  that  afternoon  .  time  heals  all  wounds  and  apparently  also  rids  you  of  the  stamina  it  takes  to  handle  two  kids  under  the  age  of  ten  .  her  maternal  instincts  would  probably  never  fade  ,  honed  to  near  perfection  from  before  she  could  do  basic  algebra  ,  but  cy's  kids  were  …  well,  cy's  kids  .  which  meant  they  were  just  like  not  him  ,  not  just  in  appearance  .  he  used  to  get  on  her  every  nerve  ,  probably  more  than  their  other  siblings  ,  and  while  the  kids  weren't  quite  at  that  level  of  aggravating  yet  ,  they  were  certainly  climbing  the  ranks  .  a  healthy  dinner  of  her  making  ,  with  all  the  necessary  food  groups  accounted  for  sat  before  them  in  the  dining  room  and  she  checked  on  the  decidely  unhealthy  desert  :  cinnamon  rolls  absolutely  smothered  in  icing  .  at  the  sound  of  the  kitchen  door  swinging  open  ,  she  turned  to  look  at  her  brother  ,  taking  a  sip  of  her  jack  -  spiked  cola  in  a  mug  .  “  you're  very  lucky  i  respect  you  or  else  i  would've  sat  them  in  front  of  some  very  colorful  disney  movies  and  that  would've  been  the  extent  of  my  babysitting  duties  .  ”

I know I sound like your mom but you kids need to stop fucking vaping

10 Things ALDIS HODGE Can’t Live Without ❘ GQ

attempting to get a cup of coffee before he headed home, cyrus was distracted by the voice beside him at the counter. he glanced over at soren, an eyebrow lifting, "it's because it's bad for you." he deadpanned, too irritated to actually put up any sort of act. his day had been too long and the statement too annoying. cyrus was practically pathological about how he treated his own body and so always thought that everyone else must hold themselves to the same standards, "your body is a temple. everything you put in it matters." cyrus explained, tone only really slightly pretentious, "you're too young to be messing up your body like that." he shook his head, "what is it? the aesthetic of cigarettes? not worth the smell or the diseases. trust me." he sighed, thanking the waitress as she set his coffee in front of him, "stick to caffeine or something. and don't start that damn vaping. we don't even know the long-term health consequences of that."

location: dolly's diner time: late afternoon status: open!

something about diners. greasy leather seats. overheard secrets tangled up with the clatter of forks. bitter, often stale coffee -- unless you got lucky enough to walk in when the place was mostly empty. unlikely. the kind of place where time hangs heavy, like it got tired and sat down to rest in the corner booth. red creek felt the same, like it had long surrendered to time’s weight instead of running alongside it. no reinvention, no salvation -- just a stubborn place clinging to people like mud after rain, or maybe quicksand, tugging until they sank without a fight. soren didn't have to imagine dark things haunting its bones when its effect where already laying there, sprawled out for anyone willing to see. maybe ancient spirits seeking revenge after having their forever homes suffocated with asphalt and cement. maybe nothing at all, just the weight of a town folding in on itself, vanishing into a fog you didn’t know you’d entered until it was too late. soren wouldn't flinch if someone shattered the silence with a lynchian scream -- sinister close-ups, faces trembling under the pressure of things better left unsaid -- right there in the diner, right as he staed at his gone stale coffee. and perhaps it was his obsession with intricate stories that blurred the line with reality, but twin peaks really didn't feel like fiction anymore; it was a blueprint, a warning for places like this, where the mundane teetered on the edge of surreal, where time sagged, like peeling wallpaper in a room sealed off for too long, and good people stumbled into band endings. even diners -- those greasy churches of familiarity -- could warp into confessional booths. soren let his face fall into his hands, elbows propped at the sides of the cup of coffee. if it had been steaming, it would've made a perfect shot. “ you know what's bullshit, ” he spoke as soon as he felt a presence next to him finally glad to push his inner monologue onto someone else, anyone unlucky enough to hear. he continued as his hands dropped to his lap, revealing a face worn thin by restless nights. “ the fact that they made it illegal to smoke in public places. especially diners. ” though it wasn't just diners. it was also cinemas, trains, pubs.... a beat. then two fingers lifted to his lips, mimicking the pitch of a cigarette between index and thumb. soren inhaled theatrically, face tilting upward as though savoring the hit. then, just as theatrically, he ground the phantom amber into an imaginary glass ashtray, the kind with ornate edges. clock. sound design coming from his tongue against his palate and he swat the phantom ashtray away, still dipped in his interactive daydream.

ALDIS HODGE: Esquire Interview (2022)

cyrus ends up at the church due to his need to be involved, to be seen, and he knows that when tragedy strikes? there will always be people that take solace in the lord. and there are always people more willing to talk after a tragedy and cyrus is always willing to endear himself to new people for his own sake, for his own reputation. even in tragedy, perseverance is important, he thinks. he looks over at santi as he speaks, a sigh leaving his lips, "some people cane be your neighbor and still be a stranger. i'm sure she didn't hold it against you." or maybe she did. cyrus certainly didn't know kirby. "and i bet you never forgot after she told you, right? so i think you're settled up."

🗝️ open to all. 📍 redemption chapel, jan 24th.

the news breaks, as does half of red creek alongside it. there's an unfair lump lodged in santiago's throat. he wasn't close to kirby ; her death was not his to mourn, and yet ... he sits in the back pew of redemption chapel, hands wound in his hair. it was between here & the cemetery— the weather chose for him. he breathes in, has a hard time breathing out. halloween night plays through his mind. ❝ i asked about her name. ❞ he wants to laugh at the memory, but doesn't have the heart. a puff of frustration leaves him instead, ❝ grow up in a box like red creek & i still had to ask for her name. jesus– ❞

joining the war on “pretentiousness” on the side of the pretentious

"fuck." cyrus hissed, most of his coffee hitting the floor, about a quarter of it soaking his tan pants. now he had to get another coffee and change his damn pants. perfect. he let out a breath, eyes meeting robbie's, "nah, it mostly got the floor." but now he was thankful that he always kept a spare pair of neutral pants in his classroom. he reached over to a nearby booth and grabbed some napkins, patting his pant leg with them and pasting a smile on his face, composing himself, "listen, man, accidents happen. might charge you for my dry cleaning, though." he teased. his eyes flicked over robbie, "did any get on you?" he held out a mostly clean napkin to the other just in case, "must've been a rough night, huh, doc?"

who: open to all! (capping at 5!) where: dolly's diner when: 5.43am

it was too early when he made his way into dolly's diner, after a long, boring shift at the hospital. it was like waiting for the other shoe to drop every night; at some point, something or somebody would make their way into his ER, and shit would hit the fan. it was just a question of when. still, this morning was not for serial killer theories but for coffee, and robbie let out a sigh when the sweet aroma of coffee hit his senses.

this morning already seemed like a mess, as when he stepped into the diner, he walked directly into someone else, spilling hot beverage between them both. "shit, sorry! are you alright? did you burn yourself?"

cyrus barely registers that someone else is out there until he hears carlos' voice and when he does, he hardly flinches, eyes traveling over them in appraisal. in threat potential until he realizes that the other doesn't look altogether threatening. he's got maybe a hundred pounds on them he thinks, leaning against the side of building, arms crossing, "it's not me. and i'm gonna go out on a limb and assume it isn't you either, but looks can be deceiving." cyrus pulls out his phone and sends a quick text, the call he was about to make decidedly cancelld now that there's someone else present. he doesn't know carlos, but you can never be too careful who you say what around — especially in a town like red creek. "why are you standing back here alone if you're so afraid the killer's gonna get you anyway?" he asks with a chuckle, a teasing lilt to his voice, "that seems like a bad strategy."

𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘.　behind redstone bar, 11:30pm 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛.　anyone

𝗿𝗲𝗱  𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗸  𝗶𝘀  𝗮  𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗸  𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗲.  no  matter  how  much  carlos  tells  himself  he  should  leave,  that  there  are  so  many  reasons  he  should  get  the  hell  out  and  return  to  life  as  he  knew  it  (  despite  the  potential  consequences  they  could  face  if  ever  ████████  )  they  stay.  carlos  stays,  trapped  between  its  tragic  grasp  and  forced  to  watch  its  horrific  history unfold.  under the impression of being alone, carlos  jumps  at  the  sudden  noise,  nearly  dropping  the  cigarette  held  between  their  fingers.   “  jesus,  f  —  dude!  you  can't  be  doing  that  anymore,  there's  like,  a  killer  out  and  shit!  ”  brief pause,  eyes  narrow  at  the  person  standing  before  him.  it  doesn't  help  that  his  response  to  all  this  is  misplaced  carelessness,  the  kind  that  could  make  you  the  first  kill  in  a  horror  flick  —  not  the  kid  who  trips on air,  but  the  one  who  stands  face  to  face  with  the  killer  and  laughs  in  disbelief.  “  unless  . . .  the  killer's  you.  is  it  you?  ”

ALEX CROSS 1.02 - Ride the White Horsey | dir. Nzingha Stewart

ALEX CROSS

Cross - 1.01 The Hero Complex (2024)

Who will pray for you? (Who will pray for me?)

When your body’s gone? (When my body’s gone?)

This is the consequence for what you’ve done!

Lyrics from Nerdy Prudes Must Die (this song fits Cyrus so well (also potential for a Beck and Cyrus animatic) and I’ll die on that hill. Art is also inspired by a short scene from an RP I did with @evecolourshock

Closeups under the cut because I put way too much effort intro his circuits and I finally drew a human face I like

[ Bosses ]

> company <

Giovanni  / Maxie / Archie / Cyrus / Ghetsis / Lysandre / Guzma

some genderbend. I have 4 more girls as a bonus, but I’ll finish them later

Pokemon: Legends of Platinum

(I think goofy mashup titles are neat) (This can also just be called the Wrong Warp AU)

Sometime after the end of Platinum, Cynthia discovers another entrance to the Distortion World, finds Cyrus inside waiting for death, and decides to bring him out of it

Cyrus makes no attempt to get up or do anything other than be grumpy, so Cynthia has to alternate between dragging him around and having him in a bridal carry

By the time they get to where Cynthia entered the realm, the exit... has already closed back up

Fuck

After searching around, Cynthia ends up finding another exit, so she throws Cyrus in and leaps through

The two end up on a cold as shit mountain, but because they’re both from Sinnoh it’s just a normal mountain to them

Neither of them really recognize where they are, though Cyrus wasn’t making an effort anyways

Cynthia can’t shake the feeling it’s somewhat familiar, but other than that she’s got no clue

So, roadtrip time, with the goal of finding someone who can tell them where they are

Of course, it’s mostly Cynthia carrying Cyrus around because he still refuses to do anything other than ask Cynthia to just leave him for dead

It’s not even like a pathetic last request to stop prolonged suffering or anything, he’s just annoyed that he can’t sit in nothingness anymore

“Let me die, Cynthia.” “Shut up, Cyrus.”

At the very least, Cynthia was able to figure out how to maneuver him onto her back so he’s easier to transport

Eventually, the two stumble upon a small village with people in traditional Sinnoh clothing

Cynthia goes up to ask an older woman where this place is, and has an... enlightening conversation

“Oh, are you with the Galaxy Team, dearie?” “Uh... yes?” “Oh, that’s wonderful! They’ve done such good work in helping our little slice of Hisui. On behalf of the rest of Jubilife Village, please, take these!”

The lady ends up giving her some apples, and wandering off as Cynthia is locked in place processing the information

Jubilife Village? Hisui, like in that one historical text?

She does a 180 and looks at the mountain that, from this angle, is a dead ringer for Mt. Coronet

Double fuck

Bonus “Cyrus, I think we’ve gone back in time.” “I know. I figured it out hours ago. “... You WHAT?!”

Miley Cyrus