cupidsarows

[cupidsarows]

Let’s just say that if hatred were the evil mastermind behind the plot, Cupids Arrows would be lookin’ a lot more like The Crayon Song

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"You who watch and know and understand none-"

A Theory On Why Jon's Empathy Made Him The True Pupil

The Eye sees all, knows all, and forever craves more knowledge. But knowledge is hollow without understanding. There's a difference between reading "fire is hot" and burning your finger touching a candle. Fear is only a concept, until it is *felt*.

Unlike the Eye's sister fear, the Web, the Eye sees what was and is in pure cold objectivity, and never understands enough to use this knowledge to form new information, such as predicting the future.

The Eye needs understanding. To gain this understanding, it needs a conduit.

Jonah Magnus, Elias, is not this conduit. Jonah is a coward and never engages directly, choosing to manipulate and watch the suffering of others from a distance. He is detached from all of it in his selfish greed. He is not committed to the Eye save for how it serves his own desires. This is easily discerned from the fact that he himself could have undergone the "trials" Jon went through to become the catalyst of the change but instead forced Jon to do so.

Then, there is Jon. In a sense cowardly, yes, but unlike Jonah, he has - albeit often unwillingly - *faced* his fears, and through statements *felt* the suffering of others. He is a being of empathy, of understanding. And as Jon becomes more and more embedded in his existence as The Archivist, his empathy grows. His portrayal gradually changes from a snide, detached academic, to a man struggling to hold on to what's left of his humanity and the people he cares about. The same season that he begins to prioritize helping his friends (pulling Daisy from the coffin, removing the bullet from Melanie), he completes his transformation into this conduit - finalized by opening up and rescuing the person he loves, Martin.

Another Tumblr post emphasized that Jon during the apocalypse is not the antichrist, but in fact an allegory of Christ Himself. It occurred to me reading that post that also, much like Christ, Jon is both man and god, and feels all of the fear and pain of the trapped souls in the world. A bridge between divine fear and human suffering.

When Jon uses his power to "smite", his weapon is empathy. He forces the avatar to feel and know the fear they have inflicted - unlike him, they are unable to bear this suffering, and disappear.

The Eye knows, and Jon feels. And that is why he is the true Pupil, because unlike Jonah, he can make the Eye's knowledge of human fear whole.

[cupidsarows]

So wait are livestock guardian dogs to their flocks like… Clark Kent among the residents of Smallville? He’s been here since he was a baby, we all know him, and he’s… generally one-of-us shaped, uh, approximately. And then when something goes wrong he suddenly leaps into action and does some terrifying impossible shit none of us could do. And then comes back home and settles in like nothing happened and he’s one of us again.

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157

a

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Amardamu

[cupidsarows]

Cupid's Arrows

Hotel California

The old belief is that Cupid will strike you with an arrow to make you fall in love. These days due to scientific research, we know that love is actually caused by a complex chemical reaction in the brain… maybe.

Chapter One

Maybe they were looking for each other, maybe someone set them up, maybe they met purely by chance. They met on the subway, or in the office or just on the street or in a coffee shop, Wherever two people fall in love it is there that we meet Romance incarnate, their doe eyes sit above freckles scattered sparingly across their limestone colored face like stars in the light polluted sky. Multi-shaded brown hair cascades wildly about their head, coming to rest just above their shoulders.

Romance is carrying their half drunk iced coffee in one hand, the name on it says Rowan. As they walk into the coffee shops restroom they cross to the sink. After examining a spot above their cupids bow lips in the mirror they begin rubbing their eyes. At first, a few specks of pink eyeshadow fall into the sink but after a few seconds the particles of pink begin to fizz and spark as they fall, swirling around Rowan until all that’s left is the empty coffee cup that they had set on the counter.

Chapter Two

Rowan appears, not in the sky but in a plane that looks a lot like it. Vast, white marble floors extend as far as the eye can see interrupted by the occasional pillared temple opening onto the endless baby blue sky. They wear a polyester turtleneck with a heart-cutout below the neckline.

“Rowan! You’re back!”

Exclaims a young girl in a blue bow and frilly blue and white dress.

“Come on, Mr. C’s waiting for you!”

As she grabs Rowans hand and pulls them forward her other hand brushes the dirty blond hair out of her cerulean eyes and even though Rowan has had a long day, the girls energy is infectious and soon they are running together and giggling. Suddenly she stops, panting, and points Rowan to one of the temples. She walks away as they step forward.

In the temple, on a fold up chair, sits a devilishly handsome figure with sleek white hair pulled back into a stylish man bun. He is wearing Ray-bans and gold jewelry on top of his white tuxedo jacket and matching shirt. His feet are propped up on the long folding table so that you can see his heavy black leather boots and he is leaning so far back in his chair that Rowan is astonished he hasn’t tipped over.

“Well, you certainly took your sweet time,”

Mr. C surveys Rowan over the top of his sunglasses with piercing gold eyes,

“So did you make anyone fall in love?”

Rowan stands a little taller, trying to impress Cupid.

”Yes sir, twenty seven different couples, all European based but I’m planning on hitting the eastern countries tomorrow.”

“Ok? Will they stay together or what?”

“Well-”

“And you know, I’ve been thinking R, you pride yourself on your little matchmaking abilities but I don’t think it’s worth it, you’re severely behind your quota, if you ask me I think you should just start pairing anyone together.”

“But-”

“Also,”

As Cupid continues to berate Rowan a voice growls “I’d have expected you to be happier on your ‘special day’ Cupid.”

“A pleasure to see you too darling '' Mr. C retorts as he rolls his eyes and resumes his chair leaning.

“We’re all ready for your speech, so why don’t you give it instead of picking them apart.” Blaze growls again as he gestures towards Rowan.

One by one the temple fills with dazzling people who take their seats at the table: a small child wearing yellow overalls, a woman with an hourglass body in a tight purple dress, a man wearing a green and dark green checkered suit and finally the girl in blue comes bounding back in cheerfully and begins talking to the overalled boy.

“Everyone be quiet and sit down, ”Commands Mr. C in a loud, strong voice. Blaze mutters something under his breath as he leans against a pillar, picking at his black ripped jeans.

“Ah, you always were a rather pointy arrow weren’t you? Well, you may stay standing.

Moving on, as you all know today is my ‘special day’, Valentines Day. We celebrate every year and every year I am just so disappointed in all of you. Valentine's Day is about love, so why am I not feeling more love in the world? As my arrows you are a direct representation of my power. You should all be taking your jobs much more seriously than this. R is already behind his quota, Objective you’re not doing much better, Familial, there are families out there that hate each other. What are you doing all day?! Platonic, you’re slacking off too. Hate, Shallow, you two are fine but that’s not necessarily great for everyone else, keep doing whatever you’re doing. So…”

Chapter Three

It is about an hour and a half later that Rowan is sitting on his soft bed in his room picking over a piece of ripe melon that he hears a ‘rap-tap-tap’. As he opens his door he is surprised to see Cupid standing there.

“Hey R, can we talk?” Not waiting for an answer, he brushes past Rowan onto the bedside and moves the melon to a spot on the carpet.

“I know you’re technically done for the day but I had a thought and I was hoping you would hear me out?”

Cupid takes off his jacket and glasses, his appearance now contrasting his earlier confidence.

“I thought it might help you to have a larger quota, so that you can’t put too much effort into one couple. It might make you faster.”

Rowan sits on the bed next to him.

“Cupid- Mr. C, it’s not something that can be rushed, I am romance, it’s not something that just happens. It takes time and effort and I’m still matching a large amount of people everyday, about as much as the others.”

Cupid scoffs and says “You can handle it R, besides, it doesn’t actually matter wether the people like each other in the first place, you can just make them like each other.

“No, I really can’t.”

Distressed, Rowan stands up and turns to fully face Cupid,

“Everyone has a subconscious bias in who they love. All I do is bring it to the surface. While theoretically I could force two people in love, the two would be miserable.”

Cupids posture suddenly shifts, leaning forward slightly, looking up at Rowan with his beautiful aureate eyes “Would you do it for me though?”

Cupid stands up, only a few inches shorter than Rowan, he lets his hand brush theirs,

““We used to be so good together,”

Rowan breaths a deep sigh, unable to keep his checks from blushing. There had been a time when they had let their crush get the better of them and anything Cupid wanted was carried out. But as Rowan didn’t feel that way anymore. How could he ever love someone who wanted to control others the way Cupid did.

“I’m sorry Cupid- Mr. C, try asking Pheobe or Owen.” Cupid suddenly gets up and walks to the doorway.

“I’m sorry you feel that way R. Goodnight.”

Cupid snaps the door shut coldly and Rowan lays back in his bed feeling strangely numb. He must’ve dozed off because when he wakes up, it’s morning and the woman in the purple dress from the night before is standing in his doorway.

Chapter Four

“Rowan? What happened between you and Cupid? I saw him walking to the doorway and he wouldn’t say anything to me. I think he’s angry, you were the last person to see him…”

Rowan jolts upright. “Sylvia what do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said, Cupid’s leaving, he’s going somewhere.”

As soon as the words leave Sylvia’s mouth Rowan is running out the door to scan the nearby area for Cupid. Because of his white jacket, Cupid blends in perfectly with the endless white floor. Rowan runs to where he knows there is an entrance to earth and there he sees Cupid preparing to step through the golden doorway.

“Mr.C! Wait!”

“Hmm? What’s all the fuss about R?”

Rowan uses his body to block Cupid from the door, trying in a desperate attempt to make himself heard.

“I’m sorry about last night, that’s what you want to hear right? I can’t help my nature, you made me this way but maybe I can work on it?”

Cupid sneers, his voice suddenly becoming malicious and cutting. “Oh, Romance, I should have done this a long time ago, but what a fool I was.”

Cupid turns his head up as if he can’t even look at Rowan and with a careless flick of his wrist, Rowan feels a force like a charging bull slamming into him, knocking him through the doorway and onto earth.

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Cupids Arrows: Stand By Your Man

That’s all she can do. Rowan ran off to Cupid, everyone else is in their rooms and Sylvia is all alone. She could run after Rowan, but she doesn’t because Shallow Love is a being of inaction.

Chapter 1

Sylvia abruptly halts as one of her low heels sticks to the viscous liquid. It’s an amber color, sticky like syrup. The source of it is curled on the floor, his white jacket stained with the sap-like ichor that oozes out of a large gash on his chest.

“Cupid! What happened?!”

A groan is the only response given.

“I- um, ok I need to get Ike, he’ll know how to help.”

Chapter 2

It was fine, right? Everything would be ok.

Her head feels like it has been submerged in water, not quite hearing what anyone is saying. Cupid can’t die, right? It simply isn’t possible, what happens to her if Cupid goes away?

“Uhm, Sylvia, are you listening? Are you ok?”

Sylvia jolted out of her sub-consciousness, back to the reality of her current situation.

“I- yeah, I was just thinking about what to do now that- you know.”

Pheobe looked at Sylvia sympathetically,

“He’s not dead you know,”

She said softly,

“Just…hurt.”

Neither of the two arrows were dumb, Sylvia and Pheobe had been friends for as long as they had been alive and they could both read each other like a book. Pheobe’s brave face yet shaken interior and Sylvia’s clearly frazzled state of mind.

A moment of understanding passed between the two.

“Would it help you feel better to check on him?”

“Maybe”

The sleeve of the lavender hoodie she was wearing came away from her eyes smudged with black mascara. She knew it didn’t matter anymore, knowing wouldn’t change what had happened, but the question of what had really occurred was eating at her.

Chapter 3

Sylvia remembered being inside Cupids room before, though she could never quite feel comfortable in it. It was enormous, larger than everyone’s combined. It was also made of white marble so it was as though Sylvia had wandered into a continuation of the common area that she hadn’t been in before.

Cupids room was of a seemingly endless hallway of pillars taller than trees supporting a large slab of marble that looked as though it could fall anytime and squash Sylvia like a bug. The floor underneath the slab was covered in a white fur runner carpet that eventually, after what felt like a delayed amount of time, led up several staircase steps to a simple white bed with an ornate, gold frame. It was here that Ike said he had left Cupid laying and sure enough the being was now sitting on the edge restlessly.

Something made Sylvia speed up, jogging to get to Cupid. She was so happy to see him, to know that he was ok.

“Cupid!”

Cupid turned his body towards her, revealing the bandages across his midsection.

“Sylvia,”

He whispered,

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m so glad you’re alright-“

“Well, I’ve been better.”

It doesn’t matter what Cupid says, Sylvia’s just happy to see him. She sits next to him on the edge of the bed,

“What do you need from me?”

“Sylvia, can I trust you?”

The question caught her off guard, of course it did. As long as Sylvia had existed she had devoted herself to Cupid and his cause. It stung slightly, that he thought it was even possible for her to doubt him anymore.

“Cupid, what happened?”

Chapter 4

The pat of a hand on her shoulder as she understood what was being said,

The pat of her low heels on the rug walking away,

The pat of Rowan’s shoes as he had run after Cupid.

She remembered, how could she not? That night had to be forever ago, but only a few hundreds of years ago. She had tried her best to forget but given what she had just been told, the memories broke the dam and came flooding back.

Kissing him, she had pushed him back against the marble trying to pull of his suit jacket,

“I-I love you, tell me you love me too. You’re so perfect.”

“Sylvia-“

“I really think you’re the only one for me.”

Crack

He pushes Sylvia off of him and shoves her into the wall, cutting her shoulder in the process, hopefully it doesn’t stain his white clothes. She cries out but the only one that hears doesn’t care

“You don’t think that. You don’t love anyone, you don’t know anyone and you never will, it’s in your nature. Shallow love, a being of inaction.

Sylvia’s hand drifts to her shoulder as she remembers that night, her fingers scratch at wood-like scar fibers and she knows that she would do anything to keep Cupid happy.

[cupidsarows]

Can we stop acting like two people deeply loving each other has to mean they have something romantic or sexual going on? Can we stop talking as if platonic love just can't be that deep? Because that's not true. Platonic love can be just as deep, and sometimes even deeper, than romantic love. What I'm saying is, we need to stop putting romance on this pedestal and act like every other form of love is less important.

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Y'know what

I've seen so many of these "if this gets x amount of notes I'll do y thing"

So I'm gonna do that

100 notes: I'll do more with the podcast

300 notes: I'll work on my writing ( and posy it here)

700 notes: I'll make an analogue horror series (cassette tapes) (and post it here)

2000 notes: I'll make a video analogue horror (camcorder)

1000 notes: (dear fucking christ you all) I'll start drawing more (and post it here)

10000 notes: (if this happens I'll start a blood cult in all of your names) I'll start writing a book

@prestonmonterey

@axlethegoblin

@rapidlydecayingcorpse

@mushroominawaterbottle

@lackluster-rat

@phrog-champ

Spamming allowed

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Adventure of Little Neal: Catching a Ride

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I’ve decided that the word pure has no business being a connotation of the word good. Pure does not mean good, it’s probably more bad than good. How can a word so one dimensional describe a fundamental broad concept?

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There’s something to be said about the general fandom inability to see platonic/familial relationships as complex, and electing to change them to romantic which is seen as a superior and more complex form of love.

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Friends and family

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!!!

Chapter 18

The next thing I recall was that I was in a hospital with a concussion. The headache was unbearable and I hated the odor of hospitals. I tried to inquire about the incident on the tube but nobody seemed to understand. They just said that I had hit my head hard. I tried my best to interrogate about the music box too but it was like nothing had happened. I was left to self-doubt and confusion which made me irritated. And the doctors and nurses introducing themselves all the time didn’t help it. 

 On the next day that I woke up there, the news were running on the TV. I watched them for a while and then footage of a familiar tube popped on the screen. I was there and so was the drunkard and the elderly man. The events happened as I memorized it and apparently a few minutes after I had lost my consciousness the camera suddenly broke down. The old man had passed away and the alcoholic was in a coma. His body had collapsed as nearly every organ had weakened. He also had bruises around his neck that according to the forensics were from a rope. But there was no rope in the tube. The music box was also missing. 

 Then, a zoomed picture of me filled the screen, and the reporter explained something about a young boy vanishing from the screen. Some bypassers were interviewed, and they talked about supernatural causes and stuff. Supposedly, the media had blown up with conspiracy theories centering my disappearance overnight. I hadn’t even disappeared! I was taken to the hospital, which I quickly left after seeing the news. 

 I was shaken by the fact that people were talking about me. Suddenly I was a known person and the supernatural cases were being dug out with me. All at once things were out and people were trying to find my information. And not just the police. After a few days passing by I had my own websites where people tried to track me down together. Some people said things that weren’t true like that they saw me somewhere where I wasn’t. Or that I came haunting their house and I was a ghost. Some people said that I was kidnapped but that theory quickly shifted to me being abducted by aliens. 

 Decker went mental because they had dug some cases like Millie’s out and found proof of the supernatural. Anonymous police had leaked information and pictures which the netizens believed. The trust people had in alleged authorities was absurd. According to the real professional police that we usually worked with, they were fired and it wouldn’t happen again. We all knew the damage was done already.

 I was in a situation that I had never been in yet and I didn’t know what to do so I followed Decker's instructions. Stay inside and stay away from the news and the forums. However, after a day I was already roaming through the internet. It was an addictive cocktail of emotions that took fully over me. I had never felt quite that way. It was a mix of joy and satisfaction that filled my chest but at the same time, anxiety and shaking fear were eating my insides. I was glued to my bed reading through my very own fan pages and the less positive pages about me. 

 The official news had hastily banned all supernatural articles. When they wrote something about it, it was usually just keeping people updated about the facts. The music box had appeared twice more out of nowhere. Though there was a theory. Each time the box arrived, it was in the underground tubes and a person with a certain ring left the train. Now they left it somewhere a bit hidden so it wouldn’t be seen before the tube left again. But the alleged person never bent or placed the box. It just appeared there after they walked past the spot. 

   After the music starts to play, people go through their worst memories. Some people aren’t much affected by it and at worst might feel some humiliation from the school days or such. But so different people use the tubes. Some who have gone through terrible times have faced horrifying things. There was a man who had been shot in the chest. He was an ex-police. He had to go through the shooting again and an invisible bullet had gone through the old wound just like it had years ago. But this time he didn’t make it through the non-existing shot. 

   The trust of people was declining on the authorities and official information. Everyone was turning to stories and rumors. The tubes were soon closed everywhere in London and the buses and the roads were packed. A dramatic change had happened in the streetscape of London. The streets were filled with bicycles, cars, scooters, motorcycles and buses. It took distinctly more time to get from place A to B and it had affected the whole economy from people’s health to education to economy. London’s tourism declined drastically over a short period of time except those one in a million weirdos who wanted to get a glimpse of the supernatural. 

   A new threat araised as a new attack happened on the rammed street. Ten people were dead for a variety of different reasons from getting trampled under the horrified mass to drowning to air. 

   Everything was falling apart and we didn’t know anything about the box nor did we get our hands on it. We had no way of protecting the citizens so we had to hurry. 

   But I was in my cozy room that was invisible to the outside world, safe and warm. Wondering why I saw nothing and just blacked out. My ‘disappearance’ had sped up the fear and I did nothing. What could I even do but sit inside? After all, it was dangerous outside. Or was it? I was clearly nearly immune to the melody. But for some reason I couldn’t find myself objecting to Decker's commands. I didn’t feel like going out. Or even getting up. How long had I sat there reading? Two full days without sleep.

[cupidsarows]

P - O - P - P - Y >> I'm Poppy!

New OC just dropped! Its name is Poppy, and it is So Scared of anything sharp and it does NOT want to pop because there are so many stickers to collect this is important.

[cupidsarows]

Red. And stupid

reblog this with a terrible description of your Blorbo. go