Hi!

My name is Scratchy (some people know my real name, but I recommended they shouldn't.) I'm a mascotverse/Jelle's Marble Runs/Nintendo (despite owning a used PS2) enthusiast from Vietnam. I'm also a fanfic writer/student/passionate sports fan (my fav team is Cong An Ha Noi FC, don't ask why)/overprotector of @sashley1912, wheeew! I may be anxious, crazy and stupid sometimes. I was born on 22 September 2009. I own a pet named OC IV metaphorically, otherwise I don't have a pet :(

I made the @scratchybongvt account back in September 2024 to try and investigate @elbene15, but I realized tumblr is a social media platform and so I use it for other stuff too. The original account was terminated on 11 January 2025, but recovered on 25 January after an appeal. During that, @scartchybongvt was served as a temporary replacement. On 3 March 2025, Sidemascots content are moved to @thesidemascots.

I made a lot of stories, the first I remember is W2A (2022) about the most obscure people working at the BBC (I was passionate about British TV back then). My first mascotverse story is Disabled Figures (2023), citing @cuddleslover1738 as its inspiration, along with its spinoff Eleventh Gear (also 2023). I never see its full potiential until I made the Sidemascots (2024), which is welcomed by many. Beast Cookies (2025) is the first story I wrote that exploded overnight, though it fell off in later episodes.

Thank you so much for following me. I'll try to make decent enough stories for you all. If you don't, follow me and TURN THE NOTIFS ON FOR GOD SAKE!

Shoutout to @verarussin8, @giothefuwafan2, @ducky-purintan-mascots11, @softestlilotter, @seabunnyprincess, @kurosaiko12, @lessthanyouare, @sundowner2, and others.

What's next for Beast Cookies?

After 2 weeks of absolute mayhem, Season 1 of Beast Cookies will close its curtains tomorrow at (as per usual) 2:30pm UTC. One last sip of tea before we go.

Originally, I was going to continue the season but 1. It would make this account a bit overloaded with one specific content - this is a miscellaneous account after all so I want @scratchybongvt to remain that. I'll make a new account specifically for this series and I'll let you know if it's created so that you can follow there instead. Season 1 episodes will remain on this account. 2. I was dumb enough to put "S1E" before the episode number. Guess I'll have to stick with it.

Don't worry - I don't think the break is THAT long. Maybe just a few weeks, even days before we start Season 2. I have a lot of episode ideas that I simply cannot wait to share with you guys. All while knowing mostly NOTHING about Cookie Run Kingdom. Note: Mostly. I know some for research purposes. Still can't play the game tho and downloading apps into an iPhone without using the App Store (i.e. IPAs) are difficult.

I'm still waiting for illustrations of some of the episodes because reading plain text is BORING. I only read like mangas and stuff. So if you want to contribute part of this series' history, go ahead! Thanks in advance!

Also, episode requests are welcome! Yup! Just in case one day I've ran out of ideas. Sounds unlikely though maybe I will run out of ideas.

Now, if you excuse me, I'm waiting for an ao3 invite...

The Tragedy of Mild Inconvenience (Beast Cookies S1E14)

DISCLAIMER:

This story is NOT canon to the lore of Cookie Run: Kingdom, nor do the characters involved are accurately represented as they are in the game. They are otherwise different, more dumbed-down impersonations. CRK lore enthusiasts do not slam me in the comments section. I accept illustrations from die-hard fans. Come on, it's not that hard drawing Shadow Milk lying face-down under a searchlight with a Mr. Bean ripoff theme playing in the background.

The headquarters of the Beast Cookies was, in a word, pathetic. The evil lair was originally a storage closet before someone—probably Mystic Flour Cookie—cast a spell to expand it into something vaguely more sinister-looking. It still smelled like mop water.

Burning Spice Cookie paced the room, gripping a singed piece of paper. “Alright, team. We’ve got a job today. Real villain stuff.” He squinted at the paper. “Uh… ‘cause mild mayhem at the Kingdom’s annual bake sale’?”

Shadow Milk Cookie scoffed, sipping from his usual carton of questionable milk. “Tch. Fools. They do not see the web of deceit they weave in their desperate attempt to—”

“Are you gonna monologue, or are you gonna listen?” Burning Spice snapped.

Shadow Milk huffed and leaned against the wall, rolling his eyes. Mystic Flour Cookie, meanwhile, was sprinkling an ominous-looking powder into a bubbling cauldron. “I already have the perfect spell for this,” she said with a wicked grin.

Burning Spice sighed. “Please tell me it’s not another ‘turn everyone into frogs’ spell.”

“I said I had the perfect spell. That doesn’t mean it’s not the frog one.”

Silent Salt Cookie, who had been sharpening a spoon into a makeshift weapon, raised an eyebrow. Their lack of verbal input was somehow louder than anything the rest of the crew had said.

“Well, I think Eternal Sugar Cookie would’ve come up with a genius plan,” Shadow Milk grumbled, side-eyeing the cardboard cutout of her that stood in the corner. It had fallen over at least three times today. He picked it up again with a reverent sigh.

“We don’t have Eternal Sugar,” Burning Spice muttered. “We have us. And we’re gonna march into that bake sale, do some damage, and be home in time for dinner.”

Silent Salt flipped their spoon. Mystic Flour cackled. Shadow Milk brooded. The plan was set.

The bake sale was bustling with cheerful, innocent cookies who had no idea that disaster was about to unfold. Tables lined the streets, piled high with delicious pastries, fresh bread, and—mildly concerningly—tiny gingerbread versions of themselves. Mystic Flour was already waving her arms around, muttering incantations.

“Behold! Chaos incarnate!” She threw the powder into the air. There was a loud poof.

Nothing happened.

“…You sure that was the right spell?” Burning Spice asked.

Mystic Flour frowned. “I think I accidentally cast ‘mild inconvenience.’”

Indeed, the worst thing that happened was that a particularly strong gust of wind blew a few napkins off the tables. A nearby cookie struggled to pick them up, muttering under their breath.

Shadow Milk crossed his arms. “Pathetic.” He took a deep sip of his milk. His stomach immediately started making concerning noises.

Silent Salt, meanwhile, had slipped behind a cupcake stand and—oh. Oh no. They had a match. Why did they have a match?

Burning Spice quickly snatched it out of their hand. “No fire. We talked about this.”

Silent Salt blinked. Slowly pulled out a second match.

Burning Spice groaned.

Before they could argue further, there was a loud scream. One of the cookies had finally noticed Mystic Flour’s spell book floating ominously in the air. Chaos broke out. Well, sort of. It was more of a very controlled panic—some minor shrieking, a few cookies dropping their trays in shock. A toddler tripped over a rolling pin.

“Alright, team, retreat!” Burning Spice shouted, dragging Silent Salt by the collar before they could set anything ablaze.

Shadow Milk doubled over in pain. “My… my insides… are betraying me…”

Mystic Flour cackled, though even she wasn’t sure what she was laughing at. The four villains sprinted back to their hideout, panting, disheveled, and, in Shadow Milk’s case, regretting his entire life’s beverage choices.

They slammed the door shut behind them.

“…Well,” Mystic Flour finally said, brushing dust off her cape. “That could’ve gone worse.”

Shadow Milk groaned from the floor. “I think I saw the void.”

Silent Salt flipped another spoon.

Burning Spice sighed. “…I’m putting in my two weeks.”

But, of course, it wasn’t over. Because while they may have considered this yet another failed mission, the bake sale attendees had started whispering about the event. Stories were spreading.

“The spell book—it floated! By itself!”

“I heard one of them threatened to burn down the whole event.”

“The tall, brooding one looked like he was dying. What if it was a curse?!”

And so, despite their best (or worst) efforts, the Beast Cookies had managed to accidentally enhance their villainous reputation.

“Well, at least we’re feared now,” Mystic Flour said the next morning as they sat around their dilapidated conference table.

Shadow Milk groaned from his spot on the couch. “No. I’m feared. By my own digestive system.”

Silent Salt set a single, ominous match on the table. Burning Spice sighed and flicked it away.

“…Same time next week?” Mystic Flour asked, grinning.

Burning Spice pinched the bridge of his nose. “…Fine.”

Insane Lil' Shadow (Beast Cookies S1E13)

DISCLAIMER:

This story is NOT canon to the lore of Cookie Run: Kingdom, nor do the characters involved are accurately represented as they are in the game. They are otherwise different, more dumbed-down impersonations. CRK lore enthusiasts do not slam me in the comments section. Illustrations for this and all of the other episodes are welcome. And no, you won't get paid.

The Beast Cookies headquarters—an abandoned mall they swore had been an evil lair at some point—was unusually quiet. No explosions, no screaming, no Mystic Flour cackling while breaking the laws of reality. Just silence. And in that silence, one cookie sat in the center of the room, shrouded in an aura of pure, unfiltered darkness.

Shadow Milk Cookie had not moved for hours.

Burning Spice poked him with a torch. No reaction. Mystic Flour waved a hand in front of his face. Nothing. Even Silent Salt, the resident enigma, gave a nod of approval at Shadow Milk's impressive lack of movement.

“He’s broken,” Burning Spice muttered, nudging him again. “Did someone forget to update his angst settings?”

Then, suddenly—

"...Deceit."

Everyone froze.

Shadow Milk slowly lifted his head. His eyes gleamed with a haunted, feverish intensity. "Lies... betrayals... the milk... it has forsaken me."

Mystic Flour gasped. “Oh no. He’s finally realized that drinking rotten milk is bad for him!”

Shadow Milk slammed his fists onto the table, causing a dramatic thud that was only slightly undercut by the fact that he weighed as much as a stale biscuit. "I have transcended mere mortal suffering. The truth has revealed itself to me. I no longer require sustenance. I exist beyond the petty needs of this realm!"

Burning Spice squinted. “What’s he saying?”

“I think he’s fasting,” Mystic Flour whispered.

Shadow Milk stood, his cape fluttering despite the lack of wind. “I shall forge a new path. A new destiny. A realm where deceit does not exist. Where the milk is always pure, untainted by expiration dates. Where shadows—” he pointed at himself dramatically, “—no longer linger in the past.”

Silent Salt tilted their head. Then, with the grace of someone assembling IKEA furniture without instructions, they placed a carton of perfectly fresh milk in front of him.

Shadow Milk recoiled like he had been shown a cross. "HOW DARE YOU PRESENT ME WITH THIS MORTAL POISON?!"

Silent Salt pushed it closer.

"THE COWS... THEY MOCK ME!"

Mystic Flour tapped her chin. "This is worse than I thought. He's entered an advanced stage of Edgelord Psychosis. If we don’t act fast, he might start writing poetry."

Burning Spice grabbed the milk. "Only one way to fix this." He opened the carton and—before anyone could stop him—doused Shadow Milk in it.

There was a long pause. Shadow Milk twitched. His eyes flickered, the sheer power of pasteurized redemption washing over him. The darkness within trembled.

"...Oh," he whispered, shuddering. "This is... this is actually kinda nice."

Mystic Flour beamed. "See? A little fresh milk never hurt anyone!"

Shadow Milk collapsed onto the floor, dramatically wiping his mouth. “I have stared into the abyss, and it has offered me calcium.”

Burning Spice patted him on the back. "Good. Now get up. We got an arson gig at five."

Shadow Milk barely had time to process his enlightenment before a loud crash echoed from the other side of the room. The group turned to see a half-broken door swinging open and a cardboard cutout of Eternal Sugar Cookie falling face-first onto the floor. It was a masterpiece of poor craftsmanship, barely held together by duct tape and desperation.

Mystic Flour clapped her hands together. "Ah, I see our fearless leader has decided to make an appearance!"

Shadow Milk groaned, wiping the remaining milk from his cape. "This is a joke. This entire existence is a joke. How have we, a supposed force of darkness, been reduced to taking orders from a two-dimensional mockery of our former boss?"

Silent Salt picked up the cardboard and propped it up against the wall. The marker-drawn expression remained as lifeless as always, yet somehow, it felt as if it were judging them.

Burning Spice huffed. "You're just upset because she never liked your poetry."

Shadow Milk's eye twitched. "My poetry is an extension of my very soul. And she—SHE—called it 'emo nonsense' and told me to 'touch grass.'"

Mystic Flour shrugged. "Well, to be fair, you did write an entire stanza about how shadows cry at midnight."

"They do!"

Burning Spice rolled his eyes. "Whatever, man. If you're done having your little existential breakdown, we have a job to do. Light arson, remember?"

Shadow Milk let out a deep sigh. "Fine. But only if I get to dramatically stare at the flames and mutter something poetic."

Silent Salt gave a thumbs-up. Mystic Flour summoned a burst of chaotic magic that, in all likelihood, would cause some kind of unintended disaster, and Burning Spice prepped the torches.

As the Beast Cookies set out to commit yet another crime with all the efficiency of a broken vending machine, Shadow Milk took one last glance at the carton of milk on the table. His fingers twitched. He hesitated. And then, ever so slowly, he picked it up and took a sip.

He did not immediately combust. He did not fall into darkness. He simply nodded to himself, letting the cool taste of redemption settle over him.

Perhaps... just perhaps... the abyss was not so empty after all.

But then Mystic Flour sneezed and accidentally set a building on fire before they even got there, and Shadow Milk was forced to return to his usual level of frustration.

Some things never change.

The Office Supply Heist (Beast Cookies S1E12)

DISCLAIMER:

This story is NOT canon to the lore of Cookie Run: Kingdom, nor do the characters involved are accurately represented as they are in the game. They are otherwise different, more dumbed-down impersonations. CRK lore enthusiasts do not slam me in the comments section. How many times should I say to "not attempt this"?

It was another dreary Monday morning in the Beast Cookies’ lair, a depressing, dimly lit warehouse that smelled vaguely of burnt sugar and misplaced ambition. Burning Spice Cookie was already setting fire to HR complaints before anyone else had even clocked in.

Mystic Flour Cookie appeared in a puff of flour, coughing. “Good morning, team! I have an announcement—”

“Is it another scheme to turn our enemies into frogs?” Shadow Milk Cookie cut in, swirling a cup of suspiciously lumpy expired milk.

“No, that was last Tuesday,” Mystic Flour said. “This time, it’s more important. We’re out of office supplies.”

There was a stunned silence. Even Silent Salt Cookie momentarily paused in their ominous lurking.

“We’re evil,” Burning Spice said finally. “We don’t need office supplies.”

“Oh yeah? Then what are you going to use to write up your next arson report?” Mystic Flour countered. “We don’t even have any more pens!”

Burning Spice turned to Shadow Milk. “I’ll just use his expired milk as ink.”

Shadow Milk Cookie recoiled. “Even I have standards, and they are… well, they exist.”

“So what do we do?” Mystic Flour asked. “Do we pay money like regular people? Ha! No. We steal.”

“Stealing office supplies,” Shadow Milk muttered. “Truly, we are the apex of villainy.”

—

That Night – The Heist

The Beast Cookies stood outside the heavily fortified OfficeMax, clad in makeshift disguises.

“This is dumb,” Shadow Milk sighed. “Why am I wearing a nametag that says ‘Definitely Not A Criminal’?”

“Stealth,” Mystic Flour replied.

Silent Salt Cookie nodded in agreement, producing a grappling hook from… somewhere.

“Alright, let’s do this,” Burning Spice said, lighting his fists on fire dramatically. “Time for some arson.”

“No arson!” Mystic Flour hissed. “We need those supplies unburnt!”

Shadow Milk sighed deeply. “Fine. What’s the plan?”

Mystic Flour held up a whiteboard with a crude stick-figure drawing labeled “STEP 1: GO IN. STEP 2: STEAL. STEP 3: PROFIT.”

“This is your plan?” Shadow Milk deadpanned.

“Yes.”

“...I respect the confidence.”

With that, the heist began. Silent Salt Cookie slipped through the shadows, retrieving a rolling cart with unnatural efficiency. Mystic Flour unleashed a chaotic spell that turned the store’s security cameras into sentient goldfish. Shadow Milk scowled so hard at the cashier that they decided to go on an unscheduled break. And Burning Spice, despite being told not to commit arson, set the clearance aisle on fire because “it looked at him funny.”

Then came the vault—because, for some unfathomable reason, this particular OfficeMax kept its most valuable supplies under lock and key. Shadow Milk picked the lock with an eerily well-practiced hand.

“I’m not going to ask why you know how to do that,” Mystic Flour whispered.

Shadow Milk smirked. “Good. Because you don’t want to know.”

Inside, it was a goldmine—premium gel pens, ergonomic staplers, even the elusive and legendary 500-pack of sticky notes in assorted colors.

“I never thought I’d live to see this,” Mystic Flour breathed.

Silent Salt Cookie reverently picked up a single mechanical pencil and nodded solemnly.

Then the alarm blared.

“What did you do?” Burning Spice yelled.

“I don’t know! I didn’t do anything!” Shadow Milk snapped.

Mystic Flour looked sheepish. “I might have added a little too much magic to the cameras.”

The goldfish had apparently evolved, gained intelligence, and activated the silent alarm. Because of course they did.

“Escape plan?” Shadow Milk asked, already stuffing his arms full of loot.

“Same as the entry plan: CHAOS!” Mystic Flour declared.

Burning Spice cackled. “Finally.” He hurled a flaming stack of printer paper toward the approaching security guards. Mystic Flour conjured a fog of glitter that was completely unnecessary but looked amazing. Silent Salt Cookie tipped over a display of office chairs, sending them rolling in all directions, blocking the guards’ path. Shadow Milk launched himself onto a rolling cart, gliding past the employees and hissing, “Deceit!” for no reason other than dramatic effect.

They burst through the exit, alarms still blaring, and dove into their getaway vehicle—a stolen grocery cart Mystic Flour had enchanted to hover three inches off the ground. It moved at the speed of a leisurely jog.

“I hate this,” Shadow Milk muttered as he pushed the cart faster.

—

Back at the Lair

“Victory!” Mystic Flour cheered. “Our evil empire shall never run out of sticky notes again!”

“You know, if we just committed actual crimes instead of… this,” Shadow Milk muttered, “we might be taken seriously.”

“But then we wouldn’t have these,” Mystic Flour said, dramatically holding up a pack of neon-colored gel pens.

Shadow Milk considered this. “Fair point.”

Silent Salt Cookie handed him a skull-shaped notebook. Shadow Milk actually looked pleased.

Meanwhile, Burning Spice was busy setting an entire stack of post-it notes on fire.

And thus, the Beast Cookies’ legacy of villainy continued, one stolen office supply at a time.

Beast Cookies for Dummies

Basic info:

Introduction: The series documents the titular villainous group from Cookie Run: Kingdom, albeit their non-canon, dumbed-down, not-even-remotely-accurate impersonations, and some characters too.

Episodes:

Episodes may contain excessive amounts of light arson, lies and deception. Click on the blue hyperlink text to go to the respective episodes.

How You Can Support: If you enjoy this series, we welcome:

Suggestions Guidelines:

Beast Cookies for Dummies is a series designed to break expectations and provide absurd and hilarious adventures for its offbeat characters. Whether it's dealing with extraterrestrial kidnappings or managing existential cookie dilemmas, the show invites viewers to embrace the chaos. Join the fun by supporting and contributing your own crazy ideas to this evolving, wild ride!

What happened to Beast Cookies lately?

What’s the deal with Beast Cookies lately?

Let’s cut to the chase: My series Beast Cookies has officially lost its glow-up. The announcement post? A solid 37 notes. The latest episode? A grand total of 5. Not like you’d expect people to flock to a CRK fanfic that’s obviously written by someone who admits they don’t know CRK all that well, right? I’ve owned it from the start, slapped disclaimers everywhere, and kept those tags and content consistent like a good little writer. But still, from 22 notes to… 5… in just 9 days. Yikes.

I just don’t get this fanbase at all. Is this how fanfics generally go in this fandom? Or is it just mine? I mean, my other fanfic @thesidemascots? It gets the usual amount of likes, comments, and (occasionally) reblogs. Makes you wonder if the Cookie Run Kingdom fanbase is just a whole different breed compared to, say, the mascotverse crowd.

But hey, we’ve got like 4 episodes left in this series, so who knows what’ll happen? If the trend keeps up, I might just ask you all what you actually want to see, or I'll beg for reblogs. But spoiler alert: no "hero-vs-villain" stuff, that’s just not my jam.

Big thanks to the few loyal fans who’ve stuck with me: @lessthanyouare, @sundowner2, and @itscryptifssil. I may not have a huge crowd, but you guys showed up, liked stuff, and for that, I’m seriously grateful.

The lie that was a cake that wasn't a cake that was a lie that was a cake that wasn't a lie... (Beast Cookies S1E11)

DISCLAIMER:

This story is NOT canon to the lore of Cookie Run: Kingdom, nor do the characters involved are accurately represented as they are in the game. They are otherwise different, more dumbed-down impersonations. CRK lore enthusiasts do not slam me in the comments section. Never buy something with from a name that is an instant red flag.

It started, as most catastrophes do, with a harmless idea.

Shadow Milk Cookie, in an uncharacteristic display of sentimentality (or boredom, no one could tell), suggested they celebrate Eternal Sugar Cookie’s "existence." Despite her long-standing status as missing, her cardboard cutout had, against all odds, remained a steadfast member of their team. Thus, a cake was deemed appropriate.

"We should order the biggest, most extravagant cake possible," Mystic Flour Cookie declared, dramatically throwing a pinch of glitter into the air. It immediately turned into bats.

"Fire," Burning Spice Cookie added sagely.

"No fire," Silent Salt Cookie signed, their lack of enthusiasm palpable.

"Fine," Burning Spice Cookie pouted. "But if something goes wrong, I am setting it on fire."

With all the grace of a government-mandated friendship event, they collectively marched toward the nearest bakery. The establishment in question was called "Deceptively Delicious." The name should have been a red flag, but no one in this team was particularly wise.

Upon entering, they were immediately greeted by an unsettlingly cheerful cashier, whose smile was suspiciously wide. The menu board behind them seemed to shimmer oddly, as if the letters were shifting when no one was looking.

"Welcome to Deceptively Delicious! Where nothing is what it seems, and everything is what it isn't! How may I help you?" the cashier chirped.

"We need a cake," Mystic Flour Cookie declared. "A massive one. Extravagant. Fit for a—" she hesitated, then cleared her throat. "A very important cardboard cutout."

"Ah, an existential order! Excellent choice," the cashier nodded. "Would you like it to be real, or would you like the illusion of cake?"

"...Real?" Shadow Milk Cookie said slowly, narrowing his eyes.

"A bold decision! Very well, your cake will be prepared and delivered promptly. That will be $50"

"Fifty?!" Mystic Flour Cookie gasped. "What a steal!"

"Oh no, robbery is extra. That would be another $20," the cashier corrected.

Silent Salt Cookie wordlessly dropped the cash onto the counter. The cashier gave them a knowing wink. "Oh, this will be fun."

The cake arrived in a box larger than Shadow Milk Cookie’s ego. It was pristine, grand, and undeniably real. Or was it?

"It's beautiful," Mystic Flour Cookie gasped, nearly fainting from sheer excitement. "A marvel of confectionery!"

"A necessary tribute," Shadow Milk Cookie said, crossing his arms dramatically. "Even if life is but a void, this cake stands as proof that deceit can be sweet."

Silent Salt Cookie poked it. Hard. It wobbled but didn’t collapse. That should have been another red flag.

"Something is off," they signed, their expression unreadable.

Burning Spice Cookie, naturally, set a corner of it on fire just to check. It burned like paper.

"This isn't a cake!" Mystic Flour Cookie shrieked, scandalized.

"It's a—" Shadow Milk Cookie paused. "A lie?"

"No, it's a cake!" Mystic Flour Cookie argued, desperately breaking off a piece and shoving it into her mouth. "Tastes like... existential dread and artificial vanilla."

"So... a lie?" Shadow Milk Cookie reiterated, glaring at the cake as if it had personally betrayed him.

"We’ve been deceived," Silent Salt Cookie signed gravely. "Unless—"

"UNLESS THE CAKE NEVER EXISTED IN THE FIRST PLACE!" Mystic Flour Cookie howled.

The room went silent. Then chaos erupted.

Burning Spice Cookie set the rest of it ablaze. Mystic Flour Cookie screamed. Shadow Milk Cookie brooded harder than he ever had before. Silent Salt Cookie stood completely still, unblinking.

When the fire finally died down, only a single note remained, charred at the edges:

"The cake was a cake that was a lie that was a cake that wasn’t a cake that was a lie that was a cake that wasn’t a lie. Refunds are unavailable. Thank you for choosing Deceptively Delicious."

No one spoke for a while.

"...So what do we do now?" Shadow Milk Cookie finally asked.

Silent Salt Cookie held up a match. "Bake. Our. Own."

Burning Spice Cookie grinned wildly. "Fire?"

Mystic Flour Cookie cracked her knuckles. "Magic."

Shadow Milk Cookie dramatically turned away. "Deceit."

And thus, in a fitting conclusion to their self-inflicted misfortune, the crew embarked on the most cursed baking journey known to cookie-kind.

(They burned down the kitchen within the hour.)

But then, as the smoke cleared, something emerged from the ashes.

"Wait... is that?" Mystic Flour Cookie gasped, pointing at a perfectly intact cake sitting on the charred remains of the table.

"Impossible! The cake was destroyed!" Shadow Milk Cookie narrowed his eyes. "Yet here it is... unscathed."

Silent Salt Cookie carefully touched the cake. It was soft. It smelled like vanilla. It was, by all accounts, real.

"It was never a lie," Mystic Flour Cookie whispered in awe.

"Unless..." Shadow Milk Cookie hesitated. "This is the true deception."

"Only one way to find out." Burning Spice Cookie grabbed a fork and stabbed the cake. The fork passed through with ease. He took a bite. He chewed. He swallowed. "It's real."

"Wait." Silent Salt Cookie signed, frowning. "What if the real cake was the lie, and the fake cake was the truth?"

"That makes no sense," Mystic Flour Cookie said. "And yet, somehow, it makes too much sense."

Shadow Milk Cookie picked up the note again. It now read: "The cake that was a lie that wasn't a cake that was a cake that was a lie has become a cake that is and isn't. Have a nice day."

They all stared at the cake. It stared back. Or maybe it didn't. They couldn't be sure anymore.

Burning Spice Cookie set it on fire again.

When the flames died down, the cake was still there.

"...So the cake wasn’t a lie?" Mystic Flour Cookie asked weakly.

"Or was it?" Shadow Milk Cookie countered.

"Or wasn’t it?" Silent Salt Cookie added.

"Fire." Burning Spice Cookie grinned.

And thus, the cycle continued, long into the night, as they debated, burned, re-discovered, burned again, doubted, re-confirmed, and re-burned the cake that was a lie that wasn't a cake that was a lie that was a cake that wasn't a lie...

Until they all passed out from sheer exhaustion, leaving the cake—whatever it was—to sit triumphantly in the center of the destruction.

Shadow Milk Cookie Simulator (Beast Cookies S1E10)

DISCLAIMER:

This story is NOT canon to the lore of Cookie Run: Kingdom, nor do the characters involved are accurately represented as they are in the game. They are otherwise different, more dumbed-down impersonations. CRK lore enthusiasts do not slam me in the comments section. SMC Simulator thankfully doesn't exist, you can rest easy now.

GingerBrave stared at his screen, his eyes bloodshot from the sheer amount of hours he had spent downloading Shadow Milk Cookie Simulator. The game file was so massive that he had to make an ultimate sacrifice: deleting Cookie Run: Kingdom and all its spinoffs.

"This better be worth it," he muttered, clicking on the game icon.

The title screen greeted him with a dramatic splash of black and purple, accompanied by unnecessarily intense orchestral music. A pixelated, brooding Shadow Milk Cookie stood in the center, his cape billowing despite there being no wind in the static menu. The tagline beneath him read: "YOU GET TO DO SHADOW MILK STUFF, HOORAY."

GingerBrave pressed start.

The game opened in a dark, foreboding alleyway, where his character—an exact replica of Shadow Milk Cookie—stood, arms crossed, with a narration box that read: "You awaken in the abyss of DECEIT. Darkness has consumed your soul. You must drink the forbidden elixir."

He pressed the only available button: DRINK MILK.

His character took a long, dramatic sip from a questionably old milk carton. The screen shook violently, and red text flashed: "YOU HAVE INGESTED DECEPTION."

"What does that even mean?!" GingerBrave groaned.

He continued playing, desperate to find some actual gameplay. The next sequence prompted him with a series of choices:

He selected "whisper something cryptic." His character muttered, "The shadows speak, but do they listen?" The screen shook again, and the words "YOU HAVE DECEIVED YOURSELF." appeared.

"What?! How?!" GingerBrave slammed his keyboard.

Desperate for some action, he tried attacking an NPC. His only attack option was Throw Empty Milk Carton. He clicked it, and his character weakly tossed a carton at a random bystander. The NPC looked mildly inconvenienced before walking away. The screen flashed: "THE DARKNESS WEEPS."

"This is the worst combat system ever!" he yelled.

He pressed random buttons, trying to force the game to progress. Suddenly, the screen darkened, and his character entered a cutscene where he sat in a damp, candlelit room. Another Shadow Milk Cookie clone entered.

"Who are you?" GingerBrave’s character asked.

"I am you... but sadder."

The game then forced him into a three-minute monologue about pain, darkness, and deceit. There was no way to skip it.

At the end of the monologue, the game crashed.

After barely an hour of enduring this disaster, GingerBrave had had enough. "I deleted Cookie Run: Kingdom for THIS?!"

He slammed his laptop shut. There was only one thing left to do.

The Beast Cookies headquarters was, as always, a disaster. Papers were on fire, Mystic Flour Cookie was mixing something that was definitely illegal, and a poorly drawn cardboard cutout of Eternal Sugar Cookie was taped to a chair, overseeing the madness.

GingerBrave kicked the doors open, pointing directly at Shadow Milk Cookie, who was sitting in a dark corner with his arms crossed, undoubtedly thinking about betrayal.

"YOU made that game?!"

Shadow Milk raised an eyebrow, flipping his cape dramatically. "The world needed to experience my torment."

"The world needed better game design!"

"You just don't understand the artistry of DECEIT."

"I don’t understand why I wasted all my storage on a game that barely works!"

"Perhaps the true game... was the suffering we endured along the way." Shadow Milk turned his head slightly, his eyes full of cryptic misery.

GingerBrave saw red. "That’s it!" He lunged forward, grabbing Shadow Milk Cookie by the throat. Shadow got CHOKED.

Long story short, he was later sued by Devsisters and GingerBrave and had to pay $50,000 of compensation. Truly peak deception.

Miss Valentine's Day (Beast Cookies S1E9)

DISCLAIMER:

This story is NOT canon to the lore of Cookie Run: Kingdom, nor do the characters involved are accurately represented as they are in the game. They are otherwise different, more dumbed-down impersonations. CRK lore enthusiasts do not slam me in the comments section. Never trust tinder.

April 3rd.

The dimly lit evil lair of the Beast Cookies headquarters was in its usual state of barely-functioning disarray. Papers scattered everywhere, unpaid bills piling up in the corner, and a mysterious dark cloud hovering over Mystic Flour’s cauldron (which she assured everyone was “probably fine”). Burning Spice was napping next to an open flame, and Silent Salt was, well, being Silent Salt. No one questioned it anymore.

Shadow Milk Cookie, meanwhile, had spent the past hour meticulously preparing for something that made absolutely no sense to anyone.

“I can feel it in the air,” he muttered, adjusting his long, unnecessarily tattered cloak in the cracked mirror. “The scent of deceit. The whispers of longing. The cruel passage of time.”

Burning Spice groggily lifted his head. “Bro, what?”

“It is Valentine’s Day.”

Mystic Flour, halfway through pouring questionable glowing liquid into her tea, stopped mid-pour. “No, it’s not.”

Shadow Milk dramatically turned away. “The calendar is but an instrument of deception.”

“No, it’s literally April,” Mystic Flour deadpanned. “Like, literally April 3rd.”

“I do not operate on mortal timelines.”

No one had the energy to argue, so they let him be. Shadow Milk opened his phone, scrolling through his Tinder app (or at least, the in-universe version of it)because even brooding edgelords get lonely. After rejecting several profiles with a dramatic scoff (“Too optimistic.” “Too boring.” “Too alive.”), he finally found it—his perfect match.

A mysterious, elegant silhouette with a cryptic bio: ‘Do you believe in fate?’ Shadow Milk smirked. “Finally, a worthy opponent.”

He messaged them immediately.

ShadowMilk97: "I sense the weight of destiny upon us. Meet me under the Forgotten Willow at dusk. No cowards."

His match responded almost instantly.

MysteryCookie: "K. Bring snacks."

Shadow Milk spent the next few hours mentally preparing himself. He imagined a dramatic, moonlit rendezvous where he would exchange deep, poetic musings about life, loss, and lactose intolerance with his enigmatic counterpart. He envisioned a cookie with a dark and tragic past, one who spoke in riddles and had a gaze that could pierce through the fabric of existence itself.

As dusk approached, he stormed through the lair, dramatically flipping his cape. “I am departing for my fated encounter,” he announced.

“Cool,” said Burning Spice, setting a stapler on fire.

Mystic Flour raised an eyebrow. “You sure you’re ready for this?”

“I have spent my entire life preparing.”

“You spent the last two hours writing cringy poetry in your notebook.”

“Silence.”

Silent Salt gave him a slow thumbs-up, which Shadow Milk took as a sign of approval. He strode out the door with the air of someone who was about to meet their soulmate—or start a dramatic monologue about how cruel the world was.

The Forgotten Willow stood at the edge of a desolate park, its gnarled branches twisting toward the sky like the fingers of fate itself. Shadow Milk positioned himself under it, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, the wind unnecessarily dramatic. His date approached, silhouetted against the sunset.

She stepped forward. The light revealed her face.

Strawberry Cookie.

Shadow Milk’s entire soul shattered in an instant. “NO.”

“Hi!” Strawberry Cookie beamed, waving shyly. “I was so excited when you messaged me! I never get matches, but I thought, hey, why not?”

Shadow Milk twitched. His shadowy, tormented heart had been deceived. This was no mysterious femme fatale. This was Strawberry Cookie. The embodiment of innocence. The exact opposite of everything he stood for.

“I cannot believe I was tricked by the forces of fate,” he hissed.

Strawberry Cookie frowned. “Tricked? But you’re the one who messaged me…”

“This is deceit beyond measure.”

“Dude, it’s literally just me.”

Shadow Milk let out a long, dramatic sigh, the kind only an over-the-top edgelord can master. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to process the unbearable reality before him. Strawberry Cookie shifted awkwardly.

“Well, uh… Since we’re both here, maybe we could still hang out?” she suggested. “I brought juice boxes!”

Shadow Milk reeled back as if she had just uttered the most vile words known to existence. “Juice… boxes?”

“Yeah! Apple or grape?” She held them up like an offering.

“Begone, foul temptress.”

Strawberry Cookie sighed, stuffing the juice boxes back into her bag. “You know, you could just say you’re not interested instead of being all dramatic about it.”

“I am not being dramatic.”

“You literally just called me a temptress for offering you juice.”

Shadow Milk remained silent. He had no counterargument.

“Well, whatever,” Strawberry Cookie said, turning to leave. “I’m gonna go home and watch a romcom. Alone. On ‘Valentine’s Day.’”

Shadow Milk twitched. “It is not Valentine’s Day.”

“I thought you didn’t operate on ‘mortal timelines’?” she teased.

“Enough.” And with that, Shadow Milk did what he always did when faced with an overwhelming emotional crisis—he kicked something. This time, it was Strawberry Cookie’s shin.

“OW?!” she yelped, hopping on one foot. “Dude, what the heck?!”

“This is what you get,” he declared. “For ruining my Valentine’s Day.”

Strawberry Cookie glared at him. “It’s. APRIL. THIRD.”

Shadow Milk turned dramatically, his cloak billowing in the wind that wasn’t actually there. “You have made an enemy this day.”

“I literally just wanted to share juice boxes,” she mumbled, limping away.

Back at headquarters, the team didn’t even blink when Shadow Milk stormed in, threw his phone in the garbage, and collapsed dramatically onto the floor.

“Let me guess,” Mystic Flour said, sipping her glowing tea. “It wasn’t fate, just bad taste?”

Shadow Milk groaned in existential pain. “Never speak to me again.”

Burning Spice patted him on the back. “Tough break, man. Want me to set the app on fire for you?”

“…Yes.”

And so, Tinder met its untimely demise, much like Shadow Milk’s hopes and dreams.

April 3rd sucked.

Let's rig the arcade! (Beast Cookies S1E8)

DISCLAIMER:

This story is NOT canon to the lore of Cookie Run: Kingdom, nor do the characters involved are accurately represented as they are in the game. They are otherwise different, more dumbed-down impersonations. CRK lore enthusiasts do not slam me in the comments section. Never ever think of trying to slam Gachapon machines for nothing.

The Beast Cookies weren’t exactly known for their ethical integrity, but even they had standards. And by standards, they meant there was no way they were going to leave the local arcade without the elusive, limited-edition, 1/1 Eternal Sugar Cookie figure—whether they won it fairly or not.

Phase 1: Honest Effort (A Mistake)

“This is stupid,” Shadow Milk Cookie grumbled, arms crossed as he stared at the Gachapon machines. The bright neon lights reflected in his brooding eyes, an odd contrast to his perpetual doom-and-gloom aesthetic. “A true warrior does not rely on chance. Luck is for the weak.”

“You know what else is for the weak?” Mystic Flour Cookie chimed in, shaking a plastic capsule she had just pulled. “Losing. And I refuse to lose to some rigged piece of junk!” She promptly threw the capsule behind her, causing a distant yelp from an unfortunate bystander.

“We gotta be strategic about this,” Burning Spice Cookie said, cracking his knuckles. “Let’s actually try to win it first.”

Silent Salt Cookie held up a large bag of tokens they had mysteriously acquired, shaking it lightly.

“Silent Salt, I could kiss you,” Burning Spice Cookie said, grabbing a handful and shoving them into the machine.

Thus began their descent into arcade gambling hell.

They took turns, each spinning the machine with exaggerated determination. Burning Spice Cookie had an iron grip on the knob, twisting it as if he could intimidate it into giving up the prize. Mystic Flour Cookie blew a handful of glowing powder at the machine, murmuring a nonsense incantation that accomplished absolutely nothing. Shadow Milk Cookie mumbled about “deceit” and “fate being a cruel mistress” every time a capsule popped out empty.

Silent Salt Cookie, ever unreadable, simply spun the knob without emotion.

Thirty capsules later, they had won exactly nothing but keychains of minor characters and a horrifying knockoff plush that looked like it wanted to die.

“This is a scam,” Mystic Flour Cookie huffed, shaking the machine like a vending machine that had just eaten her snack.

“I told you,” Shadow Milk Cookie muttered. “Luck is for the weak.”

“Fine,” Burning Spice Cookie said, cracking his neck. “Time for Plan B.”

Phase 2: "Accidental" Tampering

“No arson,” Silent Salt Cookie signed immediately, their expression unreadable as always.

Burning Spice Cookie scoffed. “I wasn’t gonna say arson. This time.” He turned to Shadow Milk Cookie. “You, mope in the corner and look suspicious.”

“I already do that.”

“Perfect. Mystic Flour, you work your ‘magic’—you know, actually useful magic, for once.”

Mystic Flour Cookie scoffed. “Everything I do is useful.” She promptly conjured a mini tornado that sucked up a couple of stray arcade tickets and an unfortunate child’s balloon.

“Yeah, uh, let’s dial that down before we get kicked out.”

Meanwhile, Silent Salt Cookie had already started shaking one of the Gachapon machines violently. The arcade staff glanced at them, hesitated, then decided that whatever was happening wasn’t worth the minimum wage struggle.

Burning Spice Cookie examined the machine closely, rubbing his chin. “If we just tip it slightly… juuuust a bit…”

A loud crack echoed as the machine’s front panel swung open.

“Oh no,” Mystic Flour Cookie gasped dramatically, not even pretending to be innocent. “How could this have happened?”

“Must be a factory defect,” Shadow Milk Cookie deadpanned.

Burning Spice Cookie didn’t hesitate. He shoved his hands inside the machine and pulled out a capsule. The squad huddled around as he popped it open.

Inside was…

A sticker.

A sticker of Eternal Sugar Cookie that looked like it had been printed in someone’s basement.

Silence.

And then: boom.

Burning Spice Cookie had set the sticker on fire.

“That’s it,” he growled. “This place is getting torched.”

“Okay, okay, let’s not commit another felony today,” Mystic Flour Cookie interjected, already stuffing more capsules into her sleeves while no one was looking.

Shadow Milk Cookie sighed deeply, then turned to Silent Salt Cookie. “You got any of that ‘silent but deadly’ stuff on you?”

Silent Salt Cookie simply smiled. The kind of smile that sent a shiver down everyone’s spines.

Minutes later, a very sudden and unexplained arcade-wide power outage resulted in absolute chaos. Machines rebooted, the alarm system glitched out, and in the darkness, five very questionable individuals made a quick getaway—with exactly one 1/1 Eternal Sugar Cookie figure in their possession.

As they dashed into the night, Mystic Flour Cookie glanced at Burning Spice Cookie. “So… does this count as a successful mission?”

Burning Spice Cookie, cradling the stolen prize like a newborn, grinned. “I’d say so.”

Shadow Milk Cookie, still brooding, muttered, “Luck is still for the weak.”

Silent Salt Cookie flipped the sticker they had secretly pocketed earlier. They examined it for a moment, then stuck it onto Shadow Milk Cookie’s back when he wasn’t looking.

The night ended in laughter, minor property damage, and yet another unspoken ban from a local establishment. All in all, a job well done.

Top 10 Cookies (Beast Cookies S1E7)

DISCLAIMER:

This story is NOT canon to the lore of Cookie Run: Kingdom, nor do the characters involved are accurately represented as they are in the game. They are otherwise different, more dumbed-down impersonations. CRK lore enthusiasts do not slam me in the comments section. I cannot guarantee that all cookies mentioned in this list are from CRK. Also happy April Fools' Day!

SPOILER ALERT!

This episode may contain SPOILERS! Read it at your own risk! Or not.

The episode opens with Shadow Milk Cookie seated behind a dramatically lit desk, wearing a cheap, plastic crown. A massive, shoddily written banner behind him reads "The Definitive, Totally Unbiased Top 10 Cookies List." Burning Spice Cookie slouches beside him, already fiddling with a flamethrower.

"Welcome, mortals, to the greatest ranking video you shall ever witness," Shadow Milk declares, his voice dripping with self-importance. "I, Shadow Milk Cookie, have spent an agonizing amount of time crafting this list based on a combination of extensive research, deep philosophical reflection, and my own unmatched taste. Joining me today is my, uh... assistant? Coworker? Workplace nuisance? Burning Spice Cookie."

Burning Spice barely glances up. "Yeah, yeah, let's get on with it. I already set up something outside for the number one pick. It's gonna be—"

"DON’T spoil it yet, fool. Theatrics are everything," Shadow Milk snaps. He clears his throat and gestures to a poorly drawn chart behind him. "Now, behold! My magnum opus of ranking!"

#10: Muscle Cookie

"An icon of raw strength. A true embodiment of brute force. He has no deeper complexity, no intricate backstory... but sometimes, you just need a guy who can lift things."

"You just picked him because you need someone to carry your grocery bags," Burning Spice accuses.

"Silence. Moving on."

#9: Princess Cookie

"A royal presence in the Cookie Run universe. She brings elegance, charm, and a sword. What more could you ask for?"

"To not be on this list?" Burning Spice mutters.

"Blasphemy."

#8: Jung Kook Cookie

Burning Spice nearly drops his flamethrower. "Wait. WAIT. Jung Kook from BTS? Are you serious?"

"Have you seen his stage presence? His talent? His—"

"HE'S NOT EVEN A COOKIE."

"Your argument is invalid. Moving on."

#7: Definitely Not a CRK Character Cookie

Burning Spice groans. "I hate this."

"I have no idea who this is, but they clearly left a deep impact on me," Shadow Milk says dramatically.

"YOU MADE THE LIST. HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW?"

"Life is full of mysteries."

#6: Pure Vanilla Cookie

"The grandfather of healing. The wise sage. The mentor we all wish we had."

"This is just because he gives you free heals in the game, isn’t it?"

"…No comment."

#5: Moonlight Cookie

"She is the stars, the cosmos, the very fabric of dreams themselves."

"Or just a glorified nightlight."

"You are banned from speaking for the next three rankings."

#4: Espresso Cookie

"Dark. Bitter. Sophisticated. Like my soul."

Burning Spice stares at the camera like he’s on The Office.

#3: Dark Enchantress Cookie

"The most fearsome villain in Cookie Run history. An absolute powerhouse—"

"You mean was a powerhouse. She got wrecked in the story mode."

"…WHAT."

"Yeah, got totally dunked on."

"I have never felt this betrayed. Moving on."

#2: White Lily Cookie

"A tragic figure, burdened with sorrow, forever yearning for redemption—"

"Oh my stars, just say you have a crush on her and move on."

Shadow Milk glares in silence.

#1: Shadow Milk Cookie

The camera zooms in on Shadow Milk Cookie, who strikes a dramatic pose as Burning Spice Cookie bursts into laughter.

"A true enigma. A brooding icon. A master of deceit—"

"AND THE BIG REVEAL! I made a statue of you outside the lair, complete with a dramatic unveiling ceremony!"

Cut to outside, where an obviously rushed, barely recognizable statue of Shadow Milk Cookie stands, held together by duct tape and misplaced ego.

Shadow Milk’s eyes widen. "I… I love it."

"Oh, and while we’re at it—spoiler alert—Darth Vader is Luke’s dad, Snape loved Lily, the Titanic sinks, Light Yagami loses, and—oh yeah—Dark Enchantress gets defeated in CRK."

Shadow Milk lets out an anguished scream. "…YOU FOOL! YOU HAVE RUINED EVERYTHING!"

Burning Spice shrugs. "Pfft, relax. No one actually watches these videos."

Shadow Milk collapses into despair as the credits roll. A searchlight shines at him, as - once again - the theme song "Ecce homo qui est micam" is sung by a choir of angels... again.

Post-Credit Scene:

Still fuming, Shadow Milk sits back at his desk. "Since my perfectly crafted list has been RUINED by incompetence, I shall return soon with the TRUE, OFFICIAL ‘Top 10 CRK Characters’ list. But first, before you comment, you must type ‘Spoiler alert.’ That is the rule."

The screen fades to black as ominous music plays.

A Cold Dip on (Ab)normalcy (Beast Cookies S1E6)

DISCLAIMER:

This story is NOT canon to the lore of Cookie Run: Kingdom, nor do the characters involved are accurately represented as they are in the game. They are otherwise different, more dumbed-down impersonations. CRK lore enthusiasts do not slam me in the comments section. If you're talented enough to provide me illustrations on this story and other episodes of this series, please do it, I'll appreciate it. Credit guaranteed.

The Beast Cookies sat around their usual hideout, boredom thick in the air. They had pulled off every scheme they could think of—arson, deception, chaos—it was all starting to feel too easy.

That’s when Mystic Flour Cookie leaned forward with a smirk. “I bet none of you could survive a normal life.”

Burning Spice Cookie scoffed. “Please. I could be normal in my sleep.”

Shadow Milk Cookie narrowed his eyes. “Deceit.”

Mystic Flour waggled her eyebrows. “Alright, then. I dare you. One month. We all get the most normal jobs possible, live regular lives, and see who makes the most money. Winner gets all the monthly salary bonuses.”

Silent Salt Cookie nodded in silent agreement, already planning their next move.

And just like that, the most absurd challenge in their history began.

Burning Spice Cookie: The IT Guy

Burning Spice Cookie adjusted his tie (which was already singed at the edges) and stared at the computer screen. “Have you tried turning it off and setting it on fire?”

The office worker blinked. “...Turning it off and on again?”

“Sure, that too.”

By day one, he had already spilled coffee on the main server. By day two, he accidentally caused a blackout trying to ‘fix’ a faulty cable with a blowtorch. By day three, he was escorted out of the building after attempting to ‘optimize’ the Wi-Fi by setting the router on fire and claiming, “It needed a fresh start.”

He was, of course, immediately fired for causing ‘unprecedented system combustion.’ But, technically, he had attempted to be normal, so he still received a partial payout.

Mystic Flour Cookie: Yoga Instructor

“Now, everyone, just take a deep breath and be one with the universe.”

The class sighed in relaxation.

“And with just a pinch of magic…” Mystic Flour muttered, flicking her fingers.

Suddenly, half the participants were levitating, a few had been turned into pigeons, and one unlucky soul was vibrating between dimensions.

“...Oops.”

By day two, her classes had a long waiting list. By day five, her students had started experiencing visions. By day seven, the city council issued a formal warning after someone ascended into the sky during a downward dog pose and never returned.

Her ‘instant enlightenment’ method got her fired, but the kingdom still considered her attempt valid. Another paycheck in the bag.

Shadow Milk Cookie: Barista

Shadow Milk Cookie loomed behind the counter, his expression unreadable as he poured coffee with an air of brooding intensity.

Customer: “Uh… can I get a caramel macchiato?”

Shadow Milk: “Life is bitter. So is your coffee.” Hands them a plain black coffee.

Customer: “...That’s not what I ordered.”

Shadow Milk: “Deceit.”

By day two, he had already renamed every drink on the menu. ‘Eternal Suffering’ was just an espresso. ‘Abyssal Torment’ was a cold brew. ‘Void’s Embrace’ was a matcha latte.

By day four, regulars stopped coming, replaced by philosophy majors and people going through breakups.

By day six, the manager finally snapped after Shadow Milk handed a child a ‘Cup of Unrelenting Despair’—a hot chocolate, but with a single drop of espresso for ‘corruption.’

Thrown out onto the street, he stood under a flickering streetlamp as a choir of angels inexplicably appeared, once again singing the theme song "Ecce homo qui est micam"...

Another failed job. Another check cashed.

Silent Salt Cookie: Cashier

Silent Salt Cookie scanned items at the local grocery store, completely expressionless.

Customer: “Uh… how much is this?”

Salt simply stared.

Customer: “...Okay, I’ll just check the tag myself.”

By day three, the store received complaints that Salt’s presence alone made people uneasy.

By day five, no one wanted to be in their checkout lane, except one customer who claimed to have had a life-changing existential revelation after making eye contact with them.

By day seven, the store hired a security guard specifically to observe them.

The kingdom couldn’t fault them for simply being ‘too unsettling to work with.’ It counted as trying. Money secured.

Final Evaluation

After a month of ‘honest work,’ the crew sat around a pile of gold coins, basking in their legally earned, totally undeserved riches.

“This is the most money we’ve ever made,” Mystic Flour admitted.

“By doing absolutely nothing,” Shadow Milk added, sipping his paycheck-funded expired milk.

Silent Salt nodded approvingly.

“Alright,” Burning Spice declared, kicking back. “What’s next?”

Mystic Flour grinned. “I hear there’s a kingdom program that pays reformed villains to give motivational speeches…”

The room fell silent. Then they all grinned.

One scam ends. Another begins.

Villainy had never been easier.

Crimes against lactose intolerancy (Beast Cookies S1E5)

DISCLAIMER:

This story is NOT canon to the lore of Cookie Run: Kingdom, nor do the characters involved are accurately represented as they are in the game. They are otherwise different, more dumbed-down impersonations. CRK lore enthusiasts do not slam me in the comments section. Never drink expired milk, regardless if you're tolerant with lactose or not.

The Beast Cookies headquarters—an abandoned strip mall with bad WiFi—was in full disarray. Mystic Flour had turned the break room into a vortex of swirling batter (again), Burning Spice was setting fire to unpaid invoices, and Silent Salt was... doing whatever Silent Salt did, which no one really knew but always ended in disaster. But none of that mattered right now.

Shadow Milk Cookie was dying.

Or at least, that's what it felt like.

"Deceit!" he groaned, clutching his stomach and rolling onto the floor dramatically. "Lies and treachery! I have been betrayed by my own body!"

Burning Spice leaned against the table, unimpressed. "You chugged an entire carton of expired milk. Again."

"It was aged to perfection!" Shadow Milk wheezed. "A true warrior does not fear the passage of time!"

Mystic Flour poked him with a wooden spoon. "Uh-huh. So what’s going on? You’ve done this, like, a hundred times and never whined this much."

Shadow Milk glared at her, dark circles under his eyes deepening as he hissed, "My strength wanes. My vision blurs. My stomach—" He gagged. "—rebels against me."

Silent Salt scribbled something on a notepad and held it up. Have you considered that you're lactose intolerant?

There was silence. A tense, unsettling silence.

Shadow Milk sat up, eyes wide with horror. "You lie."

Silent Salt flipped to a new page. You drink milk. You suffer. This is not deception, only pain.

Shadow Milk turned as pale as a sugar-glazed ghost. The revelation hit him like a stale baguette to the face. All these years, all these gallons of expired milk, all this suffering—and it wasn’t because he was “transcending mortality” or “ascending past the constraints of mere ingredients.” It was because his body simply refused to digest it.

Mystic Flour shrugged. "Wow, that explains why you spent last Tuesday curled up in the villainy conference room whispering ‘betrayal’ to the floor."

Burning Spice smirked. "And why the bathroom has been mysteriously ‘Out of Order’ every other day."

Shadow Milk clutched his chest. "No… no! I refuse! This must be falsehood!"

Silent Salt scribbled again. Denial is the first stage of grief.

Shadow Milk scrambled to his feet. "Then I shall defy fate itself! I shall conquer the very essence of my weakness! I shall—"

His stomach made a noise that could only be described as "an eldritch horror rising from the depths."

Mystic Flour sighed. "Yeah, okay, you’re going to explode. I'm out."

Burning Spice raised an eyebrow. "So... do we take him to the infirmary, or just let natural selection do its thing?"

Shadow Milk stumbled dramatically toward the door, panting. "I shall—return—to my chambers—to meditate upon this treachery—"

He didn't make it.

With a final, pitiful groan, he collapsed onto the floor, defeated not by an epic battle, nor by the forces of good, but by his own digestive system.

Silent Salt flipped their notebook around one last time. Tragic.

Shadow Milk eventually awoke in the infirmary—or, more accurately, the janitor’s closet with a paper towel draped over him. His stomach still felt like it was waging war against him, and the distant, mocking echoes of his teammates rang in his ears.

“Do you think he learned his lesson?” Mystic Flour mused, leaning against a shelf of ominously unlabeled potions.

“Not a chance,” Burning Spice said, waving a match around. "I give him three days before he does it again."

Shadow Milk groaned and sat up. “Never… shall I bow to this fate…”

Silent Salt handed him another notebook page. There is lactose-free milk, you know.

Shadow Milk read the words, eyes darkening. Then, with the most haunted, pained expression, he whispered, "Blasphemy."

And with that, he passed out again.

Beast Cookies is now on Wattpad!

Finally, belatedly, the world's only Cookie Run Kingdom fanfic written by some guy who can't play the game, but think he knows one of the characters, but totally doesn't, but just goes with it, is now on the most cursed fanfic platform there is - Wattpad.

Now you can share this to your non-tumblr friends. Could be someone who hates CRK, someone who loved it, someone who has no idea about it, and someone who has a love affair with spoiled milk because they "build character"

Episodes will release in the same rate as tumblr - 1 hour before tea time daily (2:30pm UTC), up until Wednesday, 9 April 2025.

Also, can someone design me the cover art for this story? It's basically Shadow Milk lying face down under a searchlight. Take this image as reference:

Please send your work via my DMs and thanks in advance.