O' NIGHT DIVINE.

              I’m ready to start the conquest of spaces

                                        Expanding between you and me—!

                                 Come with the night the science of fighting,

                                           The forces of gravity

👗 with Saturn maybe? (Or anyone else you want)

👗Character dressed up for a fancy party

and I will always appreciate bad days like this, because they grant me a point of reference in regards to my happiness. and although I feel cold and empty, one day, I hope I can feel warm and full, stand with honor, and comfort, and dignity.

YOU WANT THE FORBIDDEN DORITO HEADCANONS, TENDER?

It depends on where he is. Alone in his apartment? What kind of UNGODLY HEATHEN lets dorito dust go to waste? not him. His fingers are licked clean. Unfortunately, anytime he’s eating at work, he must keep a napkin on hand. If he can’t bear to see it go to the trash, he sneakily lowers his hand enough that houndoom can lick his hands. In the middle of meetings, this is USEFUL if he didn’t have a chance to clean up. 

he eats them a very specific way. Lick all the dust off first. then crunch the chip.

It’s his goddamn bag of Doritos so you can bet Arceus’ mother that he’s going to stick his hands back in. In fact, it’s a great tactic to perform at your comrade’s house so they stare in disgust and you get the whole bag to yourself. That’s right. He knows this game. His true s/o will eat right after his filthy houndoom-saliva hands go back in that bag.

But despite all this, you bet his controllers are in top quality condition. Not a single food stain. In fact, Weavile takes great joy in sitting and putting chips in his mouth for him while he plays. Honchkrow is notorious for doing it as well. 

Also those dorito tacos at taco bell? Saturn will never speak of it but one night they were coming back from a meeting and Cyrus Akagi, CEO of Galactic Energy, ate the whole. 12 count box. While driving them home. Ravenously. It was equal parts terrifying and beautiful. Saturn was starving but he was too scared to ask for one.

It takes him an average half hour to finish a bag, because he’only quick eats when they’re in danger of being shared. He won’t admit making a meal out of chips but we ALL KNOW he has.

—-In the beginning, the new god created the heavens and the Earth. The Earth was formless, empty. Dark. With a keen eye, he murmured four words, set to begin the construction of a new, perfect place.

“I will be LIGHT.”

And so the Sun shone down and separated night from day, and Cyrus called it GOOD. 

The waters were separated from the heavens. The land bore her fruit. The sky was painted in stars. The fowl and fish were given life. The beasts of the Earth thrived. Cyrus saw it all, molded it from his fingertips, and called it GOOD.

Man, man was given form, in the image of one without spirit. But when life was gifted unto him, his eyes were dulled and his hands were slow. His heart beat for no purpose, and his soul knew no rest, for it knew not weariness. When Cyrus taught him peace, he knew pain, and without his maker’s permission, the man felt spirit once more. Cyrus saw, and he found he could not call it good.

“A glitch.” Cyrus decided. “The first is always the worst, Adam made his own mistakes. The next will be perfect, as I am.”

Another created, but Cain repeats the mistakes of his father. The generations were unable to shake it, and man was always imbued with the spirit that the god had tried so hard to destroy, tainting his Eden with a sin unpardonable. Man laughed. Man cried. Man felt, and man made his own choices. Spirit is not matter to be destroyed, it is built into the genetic code. But Cyrus is a man of denial, a man of delusion, and his own disappointment is proof enough that something is terribly wrong. The power he draws from is not his own, and he knows it. It is a power from a tainted being, so nothing of it can be clean.

Cyrus saw, and it was an abomination unto him. The words that spoke the world into existence destroyed it, and once again, he built his perfect universe.

But once again, Man felt. Man cried. Man laughed. And it was an abomination unto their god.

Time is his. Space is his. To ask his reaction to failure isn’t fair, as Cyrus no longer lives in a realm where he must worry about growing old or dying. So what does he do? How does he respond? Every reshaping leads to the same outcome, but that outcome ensures one thing: the human spirit. And though so much bad comes with it, it too possesses one thing… HOPE.

For an eternity, Cyrus destroys and reshapes a world he will never possess. Destined to make it right, regardless of impossibility.