Do You Ever Wonder If Running Is Worth The Speed? Is The Pounding In Your Heart Worth It In The Long
Do you ever wonder if running is worth the speed? Is the pounding in your heart worth it in the long run? Because at this point, I don’t know either.
“Licorice!” a small voice cried. I turned back to see my friend, Licorice Cookie being helped up by his little brother Poison Mushroom Cookie. “Come on, Lico! You can’t die here!”
“Not planning on it, Mush! I’ll let all the jam in me spill rather than go back!” There was no arguing with the cloaked cookie. Running from Dark Enchantress was our only mission for survival. If anything, we either escape or we’ll be executed.
The two brothers, once allied with Dark Enchantress Cookie, were escaping alongside me, Red Velvet Cookie? Cake? Cookie Cake? I have an identity issue with that. Once a general of Cake Hounds and Wolves, now I flee for my life from my adoptive mother, who, right now, is fed up with failure and decided to execute us three for incompetence and uselessness. She claimed we did nothing to help her cause and deemed us worthy of death. Mother of the Year.
Either way, Licorice, the older of the two, was aptly named, for even if his locs of dark licorice strands wasn’t obvious, he carries the spicy smell of his tribal people from the Northern shore wherever he went due to the high amounts of it present in his dough. He was experienced in some forms of magic I had only heard about from meetings. He bore his usual dark cloak and necklace of skull beads while carrying his weapon of choice, a scythe made of bone? I never knew what it was. Most of the time, he’s nicknamed Lico.
Poison Mushroom Cookie was the same. A toxic mushroom was implanted into his dough, giving him a natural defense should anyone dare eat him. He would smell or taste like a cortinarius mushroom, sweet but deadly. Luckily, his power is to throw mushrooms that make someone experience hallucinations. Not that he is immune though. He has them himself at times. In our rush to escape, he wore his tiny purple robes and his favorite purple cap with violet polka dots on it. His nickname is Mush.
“Red, move! MOVE!” Contrary to his boney appearance, Lico shoved me hard and fast as we heard the baying of Cakewolves.
My beloved Cakewolves, the ones I have raised from puppyhood, had turned on me and were now seeking my jam. I couldn’t believe it when I saw them suddenly bark and snarl at me like I was an intruder. In fear, I ran with some still loyal Cakehounds in my wake, forcing me to leave my sword behind. Which was probably for the better since I don’t want to hurt them.
Licorice slung his scythe over his back and scooped up Mush as we ran from those ever so close howls. I could feel my heart pounding to deliver more energy to the cells in my muscles. Even so, I was not as fast people would think. The Tower of Sweet Chaos was one singular place. The Berry forests, however, were not. I could traverse them, yes, but not when I was already weak from hunger and scared for my life.
“We have to find those other Cookies!” I yelled to the brothers over the howls. “It’s our only chance for survival! The wolves will keep hunting for us if we stay in the open- Whoa!”
Out of nowhere, a cliff opened up over the sea at the edge of the forest. Luckily, Lico, my still loyal cakenines and I stopped before we tumbled and became soggy cookie dough corpses. Lico held his little brother close to his robes as we inspected the drop. 2,000 feet. We’ll die on impact.
Mush whimpered and clung tighter to his brother. Licorice and I panted heavily as we tossed some ideas.
“Should I summon some servants or that black thing from the Cacao Kingdom?”
“Too risky. Should I become my dragon form?’
“Do you even have control over that thing?!”
“Well, I don’t have any other ideas!”
My dogs whimpered as the howls grew closer. The puppies jumped into my arms and I hid them in the multiple pockets of my jacket. I couldn’t think of anything other than surrendering and praying for the best or jumping and risk trusting my dragon form.
Suddenly, a flash of blood red light appeared out of nowhere and a roar like that of a lion was heard. I’m pretty sure even the far northern Cacao Kingdom heard it.
“Dragon?” I cautiously asked Licorice.
“Do it,” was the reply.
I sigh and breathe out all the air in my cookie lungs. The adult cakehounds scrambled behind Lico’s robes and bit them nervously. I focused on picturing myself as the Red Velvet Dragon, a creature most assume was a creation of mine, a child I made out of the same baking materials as I was made. However, that wasn’t it. Dark Enchantress cast a spell on me that let me become the dragon. And I needed it now to ironically escape her tyranny.
Pain exploded around my body, letting me know it worked. My right arm became more vicious and cruel, my left becoming a mirror of it soon enough. My body expanded, changing from a small tiny cookie to a dragon the size of a witch’s cat. In other words, big. To better describe it, imagine a dragon. Now paint it white and red like a red velvet cake, with red sprinkles on the white. Red spikes on my spine that run from my head to tail, jutting out of the white cream. All while smelling like freshly baked red velvet cake with vanilla creme with cocoa chocolate in my dough. Again, the size of a real cat.
I shook my head and roared as loud as I could, unfortunately, not as loud as my soon-to-be opponent, but I accidentally gave away our position. Some General I am.
I lowered myself so the brothers and remaining hounds could climb onto my spine. I was so very unlucky to be brightly colored like my namesake cake/cookie. White and red weren’t stealthy on a full moon clear night!
Licorice tried digging his heels into my scales to make me fly as if I was a horse to make me go.”Fly, you buffoon, FLY!!!”
As if that worked. I was still woozy from transforming on an empty stomach and running beforehand. Actually, transforming in general, whether I ate or not (same with exercise), was disorienting enough for a multitude of too many reasons. I was so exhausted. I just wanted to lay down and nap in either form. But then again, luxuries were rarer than blue moons in my life. I didn’t get them often to recognize them in their glory.
My wings were slow to unfurl. As they reached their full length (the length of a casual open book that a witch would own), the earth began to shudder at a sudden, steady rate. They’re closing in on us! I flapped my wings to get momentum, tired, but determined to escape this mess. I peek over the cliff…
… And jumped over it. Just doing it was enough to make me glide away from the coming Cake Witch, away from the betrayal of my dogs, away from my sadistic sister who tortured others for fun, away from my dead emo brother who took his own life, away from the ancient tower, away, away, AWAY!!! I couldn’t take anymore drama!
The scent of the sea was torture, salt and fish in one massive cauldron of water. Seriously, how can one cookie control all of this?! I was disgusted, even when I tried to focus on the wind flowing around me as I flew.
Flying! Not too often I did this form and even after so many years, flying was always a wonderful experience! Wind, which would often tangle my long dark hair, would now part for me and allow me to forget what made me so scared of others. Just the feeling of freedom through the smooth currents of wind made me feel weightless and liberated from expectations.
The roars behind us faded away to white noise the farther away I flew. If I could talk like a cookie in my dragon form, I would have screamed “Sayanora, jerks!”
Luckily, Licorice did that for me with an extra fist shaking. I let out a chuckle, which sounded like a throaty growl due to my current form. My loyal cakenines growled and snarled behind me, howling at their former members of their pack, shaming them for what they did. Even Mush threw a shroomie, though it fell way short of its mark into the moonlit mess of sea. The message was still sent though. I could only imagine the anger painted on Dark Enchantress Cookie’s face watching this.
I don’t regret my actions. I don’t regret leaving. I don’t regret anything.
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That would explain a lot actually. Especially if it was a parent or sibling or other family member. And what if he didn't know how to turn them back from pumpkin to human again before the pumpkin rotted away or was squashed? The guilt has to be eating at him.
I like this theory! Nice one @the-necromancer-wife! This could explain also why he has pumpkin bags- to keep them safe while he walks. He couldn't keep them safe before with walking, so he carries a bag to ensure the safety of whoever is in the pumpkin now.
OKAY HEAR ME OUT (please)
TW: Trauma//Psychological analysis
For someone so obsessed with the idea of true horror, Skully has an amazingly non-scary Unique Magic.
I mean, I tried. I tried imagining something scary about being turned into a pumpkin. You can't move your limbs, you're confined into that round shape that can be crushed if someone steps too hard on you. Still didn't seem an Unique Magic someone as him would have. Someone that gave such a dark speech about what halloween should be about.
And I thought about his words...
"Halloween is always serious and solemn, isn't it? So first, remove all the decorations. Then, paint the room completely black to recreate the atmosphere of night."
"The only thing they have left to survive the night is a single pumpkin, which they rely on to light a fire in the emptiness. Then you will feel a creeping fear..."
When I read those words for the first time I wondered why he mentioned a pumpking instead of a regular candlelight.
But seeing his unique magic, plus the fact he's still not very proficient with it, made me wonder further:
What if Skully turned someone into a pumpking? Someone he cared about. Someone who was important for him. And then, because he's still learning to control his magic, he couldn't turn them back.
What if he stood alone, in the dark, the pumpkin in his hands, shaking and completely terrified because of what he just did?
And what if this happened on Halloween Night, october 31?
That would explain his take on what Halloween should be about. I mean, for him, is not a time for celebration. It's a reminder of the mistake he made. And he said that himself:
"It is for reflecting on one's actions and atoning for them. It's meant for fear."
It would be entirely possible that he repeated the experience over and over, every year, making a funeral out of this day is his coping mechanism.
Additionally, he's doing what is called "Repetition Compulsion" according to Sigmund Freud (i know psychoanalysis is not the best psychology school but i very much prefer it) where the individual may place themselves in the same situation repeatedly, even if it is something they would prefer to avoid. And that includes repeating trauma.
Of course this compulsion can be considered a coping mechanism but also has a lot of other factors such as emotional dysregulation or being a consequence of a certain personality trait.
And why seeking this situation instead of avoiding it? Well, trauma manifest in different ways for each individual and some of them unconsciously seek out reminders of their trauma as a way to gain clousure.
According to Bowins B. in "Repetitive maladaptive behavior: beyond repetition compulsion":
By re-experiencing the trauma, they link the past to the present and they are able to gain some type of mastery or resolution. Unfortunately, this is rarely the case, and instead, people find themselves stuck in a pattern of maladaptive behavior.
Plus, imagine if the anniversary of something so tragic coincidentally is the day of a major celebration. Everyone laughing and singing and enjoying themselves and then there's Skully. He has nothing to celebrate for.
Please? It helps us out when you ask what's in our heads!
Please Reblog This If It’s Okay To:
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@lulufuntes, to each their own. I like both lined and dotted!
OKAY SO
i believe each to their own i really do but i hope dot grid dies badly and painfully i hate dot grid my worst enemy dot grid and I'm curious what the masses think or if I'm wrong
Hey, I found me! Love the galaxy theme!😄🌌
fuck your zodiac sign, is there a squishmallow with your name? Reblog with answers I wanna see <3
For you, my best friend! *Thought I should send you a little love ❤️❤️❤️!*
Thanks @lulufuntes! It helps😁🥰
Me too Amiga. Me too.
I feel like the worst person in the world when I hurt someone, I feel like there is something holding me to the ground when I'm about to apologize, I feel so ashamed
That was me three hours ago, I wish I got stuck in traffic or got really lost and needed GPS. Work sucks, especially when you have to fake smile at everyone who enters. But the customer is always right.
You know, sometimes when life shows you your new job is close to a town your family lives in, take a chance and drive down that road. Take a moment to reflect and remember how life was back then compared to now. And if you want, play your tunes or the radio. Follow the road until you get to a point or where you need to go. There's no shame in driving down those familiar roads.
And if you can't drive yet or unable to, walk down the sidewalks and do the same thing in your neighborhood. You'll get the same feeling. How time has passed on and yet, you know the way to church or a relatives house. No shame in it.
Contents warning: discussion of suicide idealization
Therapist!Yuu: It's time we have the big talk Idia.
Idia: A-about what?
Therapist!Yuu: *sigh* Its about your lifestyle. The sleeping all day, the laying aroun all day, lack of self-care, bad eating habits, pushing everyone away and the list goes on.
Idia: You said I had depression.
Therapist!Yuu: You have the symptoms but there is something else we need to talk about. You are dealing with passive suicidality.
Idia: I am not trying to kill myself.
Therapist!Yuu: It's not that simple. People with passive suicidal idealization don't actively seek to end their own lives but they also don't try to preserve their lives. You live as though you are dead. It's giving up to slowly rot seeing no worth in going on. It's a great unkindness to yourself. However, seeing that you haven't tried to kill yourself I assume that you must have some hope.
Idia: I don't know...maybe I hoped that someone would see.
Therapist!Yuu: Hoping someone could see your pain. That's a fairly common thought. Its why children cry for their parents even when they aren't hurt physically. To desire to be comforted and held. To be noticed and heard. It's why most cutting victims rarely evolve to ending their lives. Its a cry for help.
Idia: I don't know, maybe...
Therapist!Yuu: It wont work.
Idia: What?
Therapist!Yuu: That type of behavior rarely works. Its an idea built on "If they really cared they'd notice. They'd stop me. They'd help me." It is the idea that other people are responsible for you. Of course, people care. People love you even when they don't see you. But only you can ask for help. And only you can save yourself.
Idia: ...
Therapist!Yuu: What if people do notice just like Ortho does? They can tell you to stop and to care about yourself. If feels nice to know they care. But they can't fix it. They can tell you over and over again that you are loved and notice what's wrong. But then they will go back to their business and their own lives. Caring about their own pains and trying to heal themselves. As much as they may want to help they are people just like you and they can't mind you forever. So only you can decide when you're ready to start healing and save your own life. You have to save yourself and not wait for someone else to tell you that you are worth saving. Your life means something but it must mean the most to you.
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Hello my followers! If you want more of my fanfics or writing, I have a Wattpad Account as @Vast18rose! Also, support my friend @TotalRoyal over there! She also does writing! We hope to see you around and may God bless you always!
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