This is how I imagined they confront or go against the beast
Mystic flour: ancient y/n was with dark cacao and his army to confront mystic flour but on their way ancient y/n goes to caramel arrow and crunchy chip seeing them being turned to flour this angered ancient y/n as they used their magic to heal them but it left her vulnerable to being kidnapped by mystic flour
Burning Spice: Golden Cheese is down and is about to lose her wings only for burning spice to be hit with a strong enough blow that made him drop golden cheese who is saved by ancient y/n
Shadow milk: ancient y/n was contacting the ancients telling them about the beasts only to be confronted by shadow milk where ancient y/n backs away from him ready to fight him only to be cornered by shadow milk against a window
Eternal sugar: ancient y/n tried to escape shadow milk by jumping out of a window and is caught by pitaya and holleyberry
Silent salt: ancient y/n happy that silent salt isn’t like the other beasts and is about to leave when she hears the beasts come in and assumed silent salt had successfully caught ancient y/n
I could see these. Silent Salt would stall for time and give you a chance to flee from them...as much as he can without giving away how opposed to them he is, ideally.
(This as far as I know isn’t true and I’m not sure what the actual story of the witches is so I’m going to make this up)
“I believe you know what cookies were originally made for, but a group of witches including yours had grown attached to you and the other cookies of this world. This happened before you fell. So this group tried to make a change things first peacefully and it did seem to be working getting a lot of witches to join.” Y/n
“However a witch named Evelyn didn’t like your witches actions so casted a spell and cut off any communications or interactions from their world and you’re the only way they had to do so is sending cookies to here. They had no idea of your fall or of your actions.” Y/n
“This however did not deter your witches from their goals and they fought for it. Evelyn was not happy with this so started a war with her own group against them.” Y/n
“What happened with our witches?” Eternal sugar said
“They were killed.” Y/N
This made the beasts freeze for a sec before y/n continued
“Mystic flour’s witch tried to heal as much of their team as she could but neglected her own health. Burning spices which had killed a lot of Evelyn’s teammates but died from her wounds taking a tole on her. Eternal sugars and silent salts witches were framed for a crime they did not commit so as punishment they were burned alive at the stake. Shadow milks witch did managed to kill Evelyn but she sent one last attack towards earthbread and since your witch didn’t know of you being sealed away thought the attack was going to hit you so she used her body to take the blow for you. Her last words were I’m sorry for failing you.” Y/n
She let the beast process
“Although as I have come here I have learned when a witch dies they get brought back as a cookie. However they do not come back with their witch memories with them. As it has been sealed away.”
“As of recently I have been able to get access to earthbread.”
Interesting lore ideas! The Beasts...would need time to process. Shadow Milk especially.
After that, they might seek out their creators, even if they won't have their memories.
Fantasy Is A Metaphor For The Human Condition, a comic about magic, and art, and speculative fiction, and being sick, and how they all intersect. Originally laid out/pencilled November-December 2017, when I was in a very difficult place emotionally as I was relearning how to draw post-brain injury.
See more of my Brain Injury Comix at this link & in Dirty Diamonds #9: Being
LISTEN UP AGAIN KIDS
STOP REBLOGGING THIS FUCKING GARBAGE POST. IT IS 100% FUCKING BULLSHIT AND CAN AND MOST DEFINITELY WILL LITERALLY KILL.
DO YOU NOT SEE WARNING LABELS THAT SAY “DO NOT INDUCE VOMITING”? THEY AREN’T FUCKING AROUND. YOU CAN FUCKING BURN THEIR ESOPHAGUS BY CAUSING VOMITING, CAUSE CHOKING, DROWNING, OR MAKE IT WORSE!
AGAIN DO NOT FORCE ANYTHING DOWN ANYONE’S THROAT. THEY. CAN. DROWN.
IF SOMEONE IS LOSING CONCIOUSNESS ALL THE CHIT CHAT IN THE WORLD WILL NOT PREVENT IT AT THAT POINT THEY ARE IN SERIOUS DANGER.
“Buuut i don’t wanna take them to the hospital!!!”
WELL SUNSHINE GLAD YOU’D RATHER HAVE A DEAD FRIEND THAN A LIVING ONE BUT YOU’RE IN LUCK
CALL FUCKING POISON CONTROL. THEY ARE NOT THE COPS. THEY WILL HELP YOU.
AND IF THEY SAY GO TO THE FUCKING HOSPITAL YOU GO TO THE FUCKING HOSPITAL. NO EXCUSES. 0. NONE.
I have seen this shit cross my dash SO MANY TIMES so PLEASE fucking reblog this and prevent some well meaning idiot from accidentally killing someone they love!
Poison control may advise diluting the toxin somehow like with water or milk, otherwise do not give them something to drink and take the empty pill bottle/ blister pack with you to the hospital.
Jonathan Joss was an Indigenous, gay man who was murdered on the first day of Pride month as well as Indigenous History Month. He died protecting his trans husband. Homophobia and racism aren’t marks of the past, and this is a heart breaking reminder of that.
Praying for a safe journey back to the spirit world, Uncle ❤️🩹🦅
Today is the anniversary of the death of Jonathan Joss (King of the Hill, Parks and Rec). Jonathan Joss was an Indigenous, gay man who died protecting his transgender husband, on the first day of Pride month. Today we remember him and how he protected his family.
Hello! I have a request: How would Wukong and Macaque react if the reader accidentally got stuck inside the scroll of memory and met their "old brotherhood era"-selves?
And a little bonus concept: how would they react if their past-versions tried "adopting" the reader and attempted to keep them inside the scroll?
(I’ve done students and friends, so I thought I’d go with blood children for this fic!)
Sun Wukong’s first move is to panic. However it is that you get trapped in the scroll, he freaks out. The better scenario is that it was just an accident, and you put your hands on something you should’ve known better than to touch. Then he can compose himself properly, with nothing to light the fuse that his nerves have become.
If you were, however, explicitly imprisoned by an enemy, then the old Monkey King comes to visit in more ways one. Wukong attacks your assailant head on, ending the extremely one-sided fight the way he would have in his youth- bloodily and lacking in restraint or mercy. There’s no hesitation, none of his learned compassion, none of the kindly teachings of Tang Sanzang.
All that matters to him right now is that someone touched his kid, and that they’ll die for it. He wishes the manner and method could be more personal, but the important part is getting you back.
Then he can methodically track down every last bit of information about his mangled corpse of a foe, and snuff out anyone else who might be interested in laying a finger on you.
But those plans are for a later day.
Wukong leaves behind a few clones to take care of the corpse and approaches the ink-cursed artifact with a determined glare.
“Dad’s coming, bud. Just hang in there.”
With those few words, he dives into the scroll himself, ready to start rioting through his own past to find you.
He really, really hopes that you don’t see anything too awful. In spite of his modern-day oddities and long-lasting flaws, he really does care about being a good influence and keeping you out of danger. Wukong wants you to see the best of him- learning diligently under Master Subodhi, establishing the sanctuary that is Flower Fruit Mountain, defeating the Demon Bull King. The very best he is and has to offer, to the world and to you.
Instead, he finds you curiously watching in on one of his meeting with the demons he once called his brothers. With that knowledge in mind, maybe they could be called your long-lost uncles.
At least, you seem to think so, or at least think that they can’t be all too dangerous, because you jump down from the tree that you’re standing in to get a closer look at the mixed crew of demons and celestials. The dry leaves beneath your feet loudly crunch and fragment as you step on them immediately giving away your location to the team.
Past!Wukong; ever eager and far more reckless before he had matured in his great journey, is the first to go looking for you, honing in on your location with ease.
The real Wukong watches from a close distance, knowing that his old self wouldn’t try to hurt you. None of the sworn brothers would hurt you- they weren’t bad people. Just severely misguided and well-intentioned. He could wait for an opportune moment to snatch you up and escape. He wanted to rush in, gins blazing… but alerting the Brotherhood was a bad idea. Trying to take on everyone at once wasn’t exactly ideal, especially with you nearby. Even if no one was outright trying to harm you, crossfire was a very real worry.
So the Great Sage reminds himself- no one will hurt you.
Past!Wukong himself, especially. He might’ve been somewhat arrogant and power-hungry and misguided back them, but his intentions were good and he was far from a villain. He knew that.
And, he would never hurt one of his own kind.
The scroll’s version of the Monkey King stops short in shock, staring at you with wide, glittering eyes. Love at first sight, just the way the real one had felt when he held you in his arms, new to the world and bundled tight in a blanket made from strand of his own hair.
The simian’s tail sweeps across the ground, lightly thumping grooves into the dirt- a clear sign that he’s about to pounce. You don’t pick up on that in time, and aren’t prepared for a memory of your father to spring on you with wide-open arms.
Past!Wukong scoops you into his powerful, furry arms, holding you close to his chest as he jumps up and down, nearly squealing in glee. He swings you around a little too fast, nearly losing grip of you during his last rotation. And before you can argue to protest or shake off the newfound nausea plaguing you, he unceremoniously plops you down and starts to groom through your fur, chatting to you hyperactively. His words are fast and energetic, most of them about how he thought he and Macaque were the only mystic monkeys in the world, and how great it is to have another, and how much all of his brothers are going to love meeting you.
Wukong would be waiting for an opening for quite a while, it seemed.
In spite of his caution, he’d grow impatient soon enough. He didn’t want to share you, after all- not even with himself.
Not every parent wants a kid to follow in their footsteps. Macaque intentionally never speaks of his past to you, unless it’s something that will make him look or sound good. You don’t need to hear about him being a doormat to his sworn brothers. You don’t need to hear about him trying to kill a group of innocent pilgrims. And you don’t need to know that; in spite of his fighting prowess and shadow magic, he was killed by the greatest hero the world has ever known.
Macaque knows that you learning these things would shift your perspective of him, perhaps irreparably. He wants you to think of him as your personal hero, as a guardian and defender and as a warrior, capable of taking on and defeating anyone.
So he’s careful to curate the information that reaches your ears. Nothing about beating a holy monk unconscious. Or about manipulating, attacking and trying to kill the Monkey King’s successor. Or his brutal and unprovoked assault on the Dragon Palace of the East Sea.
You aren’t going to turn out like him- Macaque plans on making sure of that. Yes, he’ll teach you his skills. He’ll course you in chain whips and spiked staffs, put you through rigorous training to ensure that you become a master of the shadows as he is.
Macaque cherishes you more than anything else in the world. You may well be the only thing he cherishes at this point. And he understands that he might not always be around to protect you, or that an enemy might come creeping to you while he’s off. He won’t always be by your side, no matter how badly he wants to. So you have to train with him, learn his ways, master his skills. He’ll wrestle you out of bed and into the dojo each day if he has to.
But you aren’t going to be his sidekick or successor, no matter how much you beg or plead. Even if you break down crying about how much you want to help him, or how you worry about him and his safety, he shoots down your offers and attempts. He can’t lose you. He’s lost far too much by now to risk his child’s life.
Macaque understands why you want to help him, he really does.
The two of you had been separated for five hundred years. He had died when you were young, and left you alone in an ever-changing world, forced to grow and survive without him. You had been embittered by the struggle, but never allowed it to break you- you resolved to remain the person you had always been, the person he had taught you to be.
You had wanted to preserve his memory.
Five hundred years later, and you were just as he left you, though a little sour, and perhaps hardened from strife.
But it had been you.
Macaque had tackled you down on sight, bearing down on your form with wide open arms and teary eyes, allowing himself to be vulnerable for once. In return, you had wept into the fur of his chest, tightly clinging and clutching to his frame with arms and legs alike, refusing to be parted from the father you had lost so long ago.
It was supposed to stay like that. And it did, for a while, the two of you content and ready to start healing side by side.
But the Scroll goes and ruins everything, taking you from him as he stands and watches, helpless to save you.
He’s not too unlike Wukong here- his reaction massively differs depending on whether or not you were attacked or simply made a mistake and handled the scroll improperly.
Except he’s far more brutal than his rival ever would be. Wukong; even enraged at you being endangered, has the compassion (and urgency) to finish his foe quickly, settling for a single decisive blow over a hundred slow and torturous attacks.
Macaque’s sable hands do not spare that golden mercy.
He rips the attacker apart piece by piece, the shadows around him thrumming with white-hot rage as they pump out clone after clone. They angrily snag flesh with clawing hands and tear it away, slowly plucking the screaming assailant to the bone.
Allowing his thirst for vengeance to blind him, Macaque stands for a while over the fresh corpse, satisfied and content with the outcome of the fight. He laughs and taunts, kicking the skeleton around for a moment or two.
And a bone rolls right to the scroll that contains you.
The demon snaps into high gear, reminded that you that you’re alone and probably scared in an unfamiliar place, with no way to get back home.
Macaque rips the scroll open, plunging into inky depths before him without a second spared to hesitation. All he leaves in his wake is a single shadowy portal. He’ll create a second inside the scroll, allowing you both to escape unharmed once he finds you.
All that’s left to do is track you down- and he’s sure that he knows where to find you.
Because he spent such a needlessly long time with your attacker, you’ve already been swept up by his scroll counterpart, held in his arms carefully.
Past!Macaque is a gentler, softer version of your father. He’s worried about you, a simian like himself, scared and alone in an unfamiliar place.
You cling back to him, not ready to accept that you were torn from your father once more, just as helpless this time as you were the last. This man isn’t really your father- he’s not real at all. He’s an ancient facsimile, a lingering ebon remembrance of what Macaque once was.
But maybe a little bit of the real deal resonates in this raven replica.
Past!Macaque bears an immediate, intense fondness for you, wrapping you snug in his arms, trying to soothe your frightened tears. He gently pats your back, in the hope that he can console you enough to have a proper talk. For some reason he can’t quite understand, he wants to know more about you.
You only get a few minutes into that talk before your father tracks you both down and smashes the duplicates head open.
Revulsion and nausea turn your stomach in circles as the real Macaque carries you out of the scroll- you might be a little traumatized by what he’s just done, but it’s nothing that he doesn’t have under his control. (It is, actually, but he’s a little too prideful to admit it.)
But all that matters to your father is that he has you back. Aren’t you lucky?
With the leaks of Eternal Sugar Cookie, I believe I can try and format each Beast and their perception of Keyholder at this current point of time. It's subjected to change since Silent Salt Cookie is well... pretty damn silent right now but oh well.
Note: They are toxic, unhealthy beings. With many, many, unresolved problems. Their relationship with Keyholder is not meant to be good. And the usage of "Keyholder" and "you" are interchangeable on this.
Let's put this setting where the Beasts have recognized that Keyholder is their Creator! They understand their existence belongs to Keyholder which will cause a lot of issues.
Referencing a previous post I made, the main theme I've circled for the Beasts is desire. And the victim of that desire will be Keyholder.
You.
This desire can twist into many different outlets. They desire to have your recognition. They desire for your love. Or perhaps they desire to take revenge on you. They desire to make you burn. The Beasts are still comparable to deities in the Cookie Realm and have a twisted sense of morality. They've lived their lives.
The Beasts are more self absorbed about themselves. Keyholder, throws a wrench in that... and that's frustrating. Everything they thought they knew changes because of that connection.
"Why did you create me? Why have you forsaken me?"
It's funny. That miscommunication. Keyholder didn't even know they existed.
SHADOW MILK COOKIE
“You belong to me. Me. I don’t belong to you!”
He hates you. He despises you. Why did you betray him?
His words, not mine. Ahem—his feelings revolve around jealousy and insecurity. Shadow Milk Cookie has recognized that Keyholder has favored Pure Vanilla Cookie more.
As I've viewed the story, this Beast's actions have spiraled around Pure Vanilla Cookie a lot. By proxy, you will be mixed into that mess.
Shadow Milk Cookie can't believe that his own creator would stick with a knock off version of the real deal, himself. That stupid Cookie stole his Soul Jam. That was his. He's the REAL embodiment of Truth. Pure Vanilla Cookie stole his life! His dream!
To be recognized. Loved. By his own creator.
“THEY DIDN’T MAKE PURE VANILLA COOKIE. THEY MADE ME.”
.
What does he do?
He takes you. Heh. Despite all this hatred he needs you desperately. He is so pathetically in need of someone to see him. The real him. But he's also terrified of being recognized as weak.
Shadow Milk Cookie wants to make you, in a sense, his puppet. He wants your eyes on him. Him only. He both wants your reverence like how all Cookies used to blindly follow him, but he wants to see your true affection for you.
But his Soul Jam wants to worship you. And he despises it. That stupid, stupid pull.
That small, vulnerable little speck yearns to bury itself in your warm embrace. To throw away all the bad that has terrorized him and hide away through you.
You’ll protect him right? You’ll forgive him? You have to. He’s just misunderstood.
Liar. Shadow Milk Cookie can’t be loved. He can’t even love himself.
He has no chance to change. Shadow Milk Cookie can’t even fathom that he’d ever be forgiven. He’s a monster. A liar.
So dance on that spotlight with him. The stage is for the actors. Their true feelings? Hidden away. Never to be revealed. Forced to perform until they drop.
Shadow Milk Cookie’s Desire: Obsession
MYSTIC FLOUR COOKIE
“Die for me, Creator.”
So you’re the one that made her. That’s fine. You too, can embrace the serene sleep of death. You’re just lost. She will guide you.
Existence was a mistake. The devastating weight of emotions, pain, life itself.
Her Creator was just… curious. Unaware of that mistake and just needs a little, fixing. Don’t worry, Mystic Flour Cookie will correct that accident, and even bring you along with it. She’ll save you. Sweet, naive, you.
Minus that. Mystic Flour Cookie is gentle with you. Unlike the previous Beast (Shadow Milk Cookie) who’d want your attention, she’d rather have her full attention on you. She wants to view every part of you.
She’ll cup your face, caress your cheek, count the eyelashes on your eyelids, comb through your hair. All in a gentle–almost reverent–motion. Mystic Flour Cookie will remember everything about you.
Will she acknowledge your feelings? No.
Feelings don’t matter after all.
“We all shall return to flour. Even the gods themselves.”
But why won’t you listen to her? It doesn’t bother her. It doesn’t annoy her.
Mystic Flour Cookie can’t fathom the feelings of a Cookies. Much less her Creator. She’ll make you understand her–even if you had to die by her hands. She’ll hold your corpse though. If that is what you want to know.
She’ll even be your savior.
Mystic Flour Cookie’s Desire: Acceptance
BURNING SPICE COOKIE
“No matter how hard you try. It’ll all crumble someday. Let’s fight. We shall bleed red and see… just who lasts longer.”
The Beast of Destruction. It’s troublesome to describe a being who embraces mania to realize his existence belongs to someone else. Sure, probably one of the Witches made him. But someone owning him?
He laughs. He laughs until he screams. Burning Spice Cookie screams as he punches, destroying everything he can to release this wave of distraught that he needs to be buried.
However, interacting with you, he’s excited.
His Creator has to be really strong for making him. Burning Spice Cookie wants to test that, he wants to see your will.
He wants you to fight him. It must be exhilarating right? To fight a god. Just the prospect of the gods fighting gives a thrill that shivers down his spine.
Can he make you shed jam? Will you cry in pain? Hurting his Creator… that will be his revenge.
Just like the time he ripped the wings of that ruler. Burning Spice Cookie will rip you to shreds. He will make you feel his pain of living a life where everything ended in destruction.
“Fight me! Fight me, Creator! Revel in the destruction that we shall wrought together.”
Now I don’t believe he realizes he’s taking revenge. It’s an unresolved problem hidden deep inside. But he doesn’t need to put thought in his actions. Burning Spice Cookie just loves the fleeting moments of drunken ecstasy through the excitement of pain.
He’s both sadistic and masochistic at the same time. Battles, destruction, all the works. Through his immortal body he can continue to hurt himself and others. He’s a freak like that.
Burning Spice Cookie’s Desire: Abuse
ETERNAL SUGAR COOKIE (relationship is subjected to change)
“You know you love me.”
[Gender confirmation is unknown, I’ll stick with they/them. And since there’s very little information right now I apologize for the sparsity.]
The true delulu. Eternal Sugar Cookie has the most honest belief that you love them. You created them, of course you would. Don’t deny them.
They belong to you and in turn, you belong to them.
Eternal Sugar Cookie loves to fantasize about scenarios. They just want to cozy up with you. Keep you in their little garden forever. Ignore the world outside and just close your eyes.
This Beast will sing you praises, coddle you, and slowly but surely close your eyes to sleep away reality. You’d look beautiful among the roses.
They admire you like a statue in a garden. Mute. Still. Eternally preserved.
Eternal Sugar Cookie doesn’t like when you fight back. Quit ignoring them. You should be happy that your very own Creation loves you so. Don’t look at the other Cookies. They will spoil you themself.
No matter how much you try to reach out to your other friends, Eternal Sugar Cookie has you wrapped around their roses. Thorns and all.
“I’ll keep you here forever. Loving me. Only me.”
Eternal Sugar Cookie’s Desire: Delusion
SILENT SALT COOKIE (relationship is subjected to change)
[Once again. Gender confirmation is unknown, I’ll stick with they/them. And since there’s very little information right now I apologize for the sparsity.]
…. There is no message for you.
They’ve abandoned you. It’s only fitting. Their Creator left them, they deserve to be given the same treatment.
Silent Salt Cookie doesn’t want to meet you. Nor do they want to hear from you.
However, surprisingly enough. If you ever come across them, the lone knight will kneel before you. Even after all the wars and losses. You are the one constant they’ve unknowingly prayed to. For a Witch to see them, to hear them.
Silent Salt Cookie is possibly the most respectful of the Beasts (what am I saying, they are). They are willing to listen to you ramble, but they won’t respond back. They won’t change their past actions and will continue their slaughter. It’s just… they’ll keep you safe.
A loyal knight, that one is.
Here’s a cute scenario, just for you. Silent Salt Cookie would even deign themself to write on the ground to communicate. Or maybe they already know sign language (if not, you can teach them).
They’d have cute fluffy feelings if you fiddle with their fingers.
Silent Salt Cookie’s Desire: Abandonment
Phew! That took quite a bit of brain storming on how to convey my thoughts. Hope it makes sense guys. The Beasts are once again after all, depraved. They aren't meant to be good.
I'll do my best to discuss more if you'd like. Just know, the fanfic will take a long time for these guys to be acknowledged.
May I request the Wukong verse where reader takes a hard hit for them? Like let's say the reader can't fight but was somehow caught up in on between Wukong and another demon. The demon tries to get a hard hit at Wukong, but the reader shoves him out of the way/uses their body as a shield? How would they react?
RIP to the demon Who dared to strike you in front of him.
(Lmk Wukong) Oh man. His life with you is flashing before his eyes. One moment he was laughing and talking to you and the next thing he knew he was holding your bleeding unconscious body in his arms. He just blacks out the enemy is gonna see the old sun wukong and that's not good for anybody.☠️☠️☠️☠️
(Mk Wukong) There is no word I can use that can describe how pissed he is. Like you were basically The anchor to his self control And reason but once that gets takan away It's over for the other guy I don't even think his master would be able to stop him. Once the enemy remains is all over the general area The softly check on you. Your in Bandages but you're alive he was gonna make sure nothing ever happens to you.👿👿👿
(HIB Wukong) Oh, man, the calm, gentle demeanor he has around You, Yeah that goes right out the g****** window. The second he sees you on the ground next to him, Crying but also asking if he is alright. That demon is going home in a body bag. Don't worry You're still alive, it's just don't expect to be by yourself for a long time😡😡😡
(Nezha Reborn wukong) Oh crap another one you don't want to piss off either. He may be goofy as heck But can get serious so fast that it brings you whiplash, Especially when you get involved and you have to go and get hurt in front of him trying to help I don't Even want imagine what he would do. You or the demon I mean you got hurt so I don't think he'll be too mad because he'll just take his rage out on the demon.
(Netflix Wukong) This boy can be just as unhinged as the rest of the Wukongs. I seen those red eyes of his, He is not about to let the only good thing in his life get taken away from him. He worked the way too hard to do so. So expect the enemy to get put into a grave very quickly and very painfully. After that he treat you like a goddess make a sure you are Okay and healing properly.
Inspired by @brittle-doughie and @yanderecookierunkingdom
Next
"Situation, leading to sweet salvation."
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The story begins when this very Silver Tree was only a small sapling... When the World of Desserts was at its infancy.
The Witches baked six Cookies to help them in their creation of the world.
"... Harness the radiance bestowed upon you for the betterment of this world..."
And the six Cookies imbued with absolute powers walked Earthbread as almighty envoys of the Great Creators. Knowledge, Volition, Happiness, Change, Solidarity and Redemption. The Dessert World bound by these six Virtues was nothing short of paradise.
Alas... The perfect age was short-lived.
Absolute power begets nothing but arrogance. It inevitably corrupts its wielder, bringing them to the most tragic of ends... A fate even the Witches were unable to foresee. One by one, Five of the Six, once regarded as saviours of the Cookie World, gradually turned to Darkness. And thus, the Five Virtues, too, became distorted, twisted. Reduced to:
Deceit.
Apathy.
Sloth.
Destruction.
Silence.
Now known as the Five Beasts, the apostles of evil began their dark crusade, and forth they brought great destruction and suffering.
The sixth Virtue, Redemption. Saw their friends fall from the pedestal of grace and went to their creators, pleading that the witches rescue the fallen heroes from the darkness, that they still had purity in them that needed and deserved to be saved.
But the witches denied their request and told them that there was nothing that could be done and fate was already set in stone.
The Witches punished the Beasts by sealing them away deep within this land. And planted the seed of the Silver Tree to ensure their evil power never sees the light of day again.
From then on, this land where the Beasts were put to sleep, was called Beast-Yeast.
Long since the sealing, the cookies spoke of the Sixth Virtue as a mystery, a myth lost to the drift of eras long gone by. Some said they had inescapably succumbed to their own corruption; others that the grief that weighed down their dough had crumbled the Virtue in a gulf of their own mourning tears.
Past
You stood under the outstretching branches of the Silver Tree.
Your expression an interweave of thoughtfulness and sorrow as you fixated on the glittering bark.
What is Redemption?
Hope? A chance for cookies to see the error of their ways and better themselves, forgive themselves and see that there is more to life than causing strife?
Was it a vain pursuit? Seeing good in cookies where there is none? Handing out second chances over and over again only to lose more than you gained?
You didn’t have an answer.
You didn’t have an answer when cookies used to call you weak for your constant, unwavering forgiveness, chanting that it was for the spineless who could afford to lose something, striving to guide the wrongful on the right path while bestowing them with leniency regardless of their continued morally depraved actions.
You didn’t have an answer when your dear friends collapsed under the pressure of their powers. When their adored glances your way didn’t vanish along with their righteousness but deformed to something…obsessive.
When they rampaged through the land, dispersing darkness and suffering — unlike anything ever seen before.
When the cookies cursed you for forsaking the world when you desperately tried to help your beloved comrades — when you offered consolation, concern, and sympathy — instead of purging their wickedness.
But how could you?
How could you possibly crumble the very cookies you held so dear to your heart?
Even if their own affection had twisted to something heinous, a death vine that suffocated your ability to take breaths, even if you didn’t reciprocate their love in the same extreme measure they did.
You would still be crumbling an essence of your very heart along with it, bleeding it out till your life force took its final breath of air.
Even if a part of you knew that this was for the greater good, sealing them away. It truly was — a means to an end — even if the end led you to walk in the muck and mire of past memories, vigorously trying to stay afloat in the ocean of grief that threatened to swallow you whole with each merciless wave of reminiscences.
The fluttering of wings landed behind your presence. “I figured you would be here…” You turn your gaze off the tree to meet the eyes of the faerie, his hair a light lavender with periwinkle eyes.
“Elder Fearie Cookie…”
Elder Faerie Cookie stands a few feet away from you. His poise as dignified as one would expect from the guardian of the seal, his silver crown shines in the glittering light.
“I came to see if you’re doing well, given that I am aware you get sad around this time of season.” His calm voice acknowledged. You grant him a glum smile, turning your heels toward the tree once more.
“You need not worry; i’m not sad… just reminiscing.” You explained. Your hand goes to hover over your chest, over your star-shaped souljam that was hidden under the fabric of clothes.
As the years had passed, you had resided in the Faerie Kingdom.
Dulling your appearance to not attract too much attention, camouflaging your former identity as a Primordial Hero named Stellar Powder Cookie, virtue of Redemption, under the guise of Reader cookie, a wingless cookie who has lived in the silver kingdom as long as time, helping the faeries with the prosperity of the kingdom.
The faeries had always been kindhearted to you, treating you as one of their own despite your lack of wings. Some did question the oddity of a wingless cookie living in the kingdom and where exactly your origin laid.
But no one ever demanded an answer, just curiosity that you couldn’t blame them for possessing.
Although there was one faerie who knew who you really were. Elder Faerie.
He knew the struggles you had endured. Sympathised with the loss of your loved ones.
But he also anchored you. Reminding you that if the day ever came that the Beasts were to escape, you needed to stop them for the sake of cookiekind. And you knew that; you understood, and you would. — Despite the pain that ached at the thought.
“Do you miss them?”
You snapped a glance at the question. “Pardon?”
Elder Faerie Cookie moved to stand beside you. His hands clasped behind his tucked-down wings. “Do you miss them? —The Beasts?” He repeated.
A beat of civil silence passed as you considered the question.
You sighed deeply.
“Yes.”
Elder Faerie Cookie cast an attentive expression your way.
“But I miss the cookies they were — not the ones they have become.” You muttered.
Elder Faerie creased his brow slightly, then redirected his attention back upfront. “That is understandable; Grief has no time limit. It’s understandable to miss memories held in good faith.”
You hummed at his reassurance.
Present
After some time you left Beast-Yeast.
You yearned for a new direction. You couldn’t stay glued to a past long bygone. Grief and sadness become comforting if you’ve lived in it too long, and you couldn’t do it anymore; you couldn’t stay chasing the fragments of blissful nostalgia.
So you said goodbye to the faeries, promising Silverbell Cookie you would come visit in the future.
Mercurial Knight Cookie wished you a safe journey, and Elder Faerie Cookie wished you would find what you were yearning for without straying off of the righteous path.
You gave him a knowing and understanding nod before setting off to the land of Crisipia.
And after years, you meet a group of cookies who ventured the land, and you joined their journey.
You meet the ancients. You were opposed to getting close to them at first. But they turned out to be honourable, kind and heroic. And so you became friends.
And it felt good. It felt right.
Now you were preparing for the announced expedition to Beast-Yeast.
You were nervous, terribly so; you did not know what to expect after all this time. Your nerves were pulsating out of your dough at the mere thought.
A sickening anxiety of sorts.
You organised your necessities in your bag to distract your racing mind.
It’ll be fine. You told yourself. Nothing’s going to happen.
“Reader Cookie! Are You ready to go?” The soft voice of Pure Vanilla Cookie came from the doorway.
His gentle smile met your eyes. Your gaze flickered down at his blue souljam for just a second as you reminded yourself of the dangers that were possibly waiting for them, then your gaze went back up with an equally kind smile. You showcased your wrapped-together bag with a prepared lilt in your voice.
“Yes, I am!”
You know this needed to be done. You needed to find White Lily Cookie; Cookiekind depended on it.
━━━━━━
WHOAAA my first tumblr post and crk story!
I want to make this into a serie, but I'm new to Tumblr so I don't know how anything works, bear with me!!
Anywhoo how was this writing? :>
Hi! I was wondering if maybe you could do a one-shot of GN!Reader and some soulplay with Burning Spice? I'm not sure if you're familiar with the concept, but it's the idea that the Beasts' Soul Jams can be sensitive to the touch, especially for him where it's embedded on his chest! It can be suggestive, but nothing too NSFW, please! Thank you for everything you've done!
Date requested: 7/17/2025
Fandom: Cooke run: Kingdom
Type: one-shot
More like this
Burning Spice x Gn!Reader
He had warned you, once.
“Do not touch my chest. Not unless you’re ready to take responsibility for it.”
He said it in that low, coiled voice of his — like a threat, like a prayer, like he didn’t trust his hands not to take something if you ever dared. You remembered that warning now, even as you sat atop the cracked sandstone ledge of his resting chamber, your knees tucked beneath you and your fingertips grazing just above the curve of his sternum.
The Soul Jam pulsed faintly under your palm.
Warm. Alive. Like it sensed you.
And Burning Spice Cookie was trembling.
Not violently— not in fear or rage —but in that stillness that feels like the world is holding its breath. His shoulders were hunched, eyes hooded, mouth slightly open as his chest rose and fell beneath your touch.
“Do you want me to stop?” you whispered.
His answer came in the rumble of his throat, like lava beneath the surface.
“No,” he said hoarsely. “But… tread gently, flamelet.”
He called you that sometimes. Flamelet. Like you were a spark he’d chosen to cup between his rough hands. Tiny. Precious. Capable of setting the world on fire.
Your hand flattened fully against the Soul Jam.
It was smooth and warm like sun-baked amber, but the moment your skin met its center, he arched beneath you — not in pain, but something close. His hands dug into the stone behind him, claws gouging little trenches as his breath hissed between his teeth.
“You’re not hurting me,” he rasped, voice thick with something unfamiliar— soft and yearning. “It’s just…intense.”
You could feel it, too. A warmth bleeding into your palm, not just from his body but from something deeper. Like your soul was brushing against his. His power curled up your arm like smoke: heat, pride, chaos, and underneath it all— something shy and staggering.
Loneliness.
“Burning…” you said gently, pressing your forehead to his. “You carry so much in here, don’t you?”
His breath caught. You felt his Soul Jam flutter under your hand, like a heartbeat reacting to your voice.
“I am made to carry it,” he said lowly. “But you make me want to share it.”
He brought a hand to the back of your head, holding you there, close, while your fingers began to move. You traced the fine cracks that webbed through the Soul Jam like old scars. Each time you ran your thumb over one, his jaw clenched — not from discomfort, but from sensitivity. His legs shifted beneath you. He groaned softly.
“Too much?” you asked again.
“No,” he growled. “Not nearly enough.”
You laughed, your cheek brushing his, and let your other hand rest on his shoulder as your fingers returned to his Soul Jam — this time, just a thumb circling the center with deliberate slowness. His whole body shuddered. And then you felt it: a flicker of heat in your own chest. Like his flame had jumped into you.
“What—?” you gasped.
“It’s… a bond,” he murmured, panting lightly. “You’re close enough to feel me now. Deeper than skin. Deeper than magic. Our souls are… overlapping.”
It wasn’t just warmth anymore. It was recognition. An echo. You weren’t just touching his Soul Jam — you were being touched back. Your heart stuttered. Your throat tightened.
“I can feel how much you want to be known,” you whispered. “How afraid you are of being left.”
He didn’t speak. But his arms wrapped around you so tightly, so urgently, that you thought your ribs might crack. His Soul Jam pressed flush to your sternum now, heat sinking into you like a brand. You kissed the corner of his mouth — not with lust, but with reverence.
“I’m not leaving,” you said. “You’re not just destruction, Burning. You’re alive. You’re still… whole.”
His breath broke.
And for the first time, Burning Spice Cookie buried his face in your neck, and just let himself be held.
Hi!! It's me again. I want to request again, and I'm sorry if I sent the request at the wrong time.
Anyway, what if Y/n is a gorgeous woman (who is taller than Monkey Kings + Destined one 👀), has a graceful, charming, and loving personality, but turns out she is a Manipulative yandere? So she hides her true sadistic personality with her graceful 'mask'.
The greatest manipulation is to convince others that they are in control, when in fact you are the puppet master pulling the strings-Robert Greene
(Lmk Wukong) Man he would never know that your playing him, like an Lute. You were always so kind and supportive of everything he does and so open to helping him in his goals. Now as for the sadistic part, it would be very suitable as it would come out in concerns or threatens but quickly hide it with tears. You would act scared and worried for your husband and twist him into doing whatever you want, while hugging and kissing him the way he deserves. Also with Wukong's sky high pride and ego he would go out of his way to keep your eyes on him even taking his armor off infront of you. Needless to say Wukong was always yours, and he never had a choice either😈
(HIB Wukong) With this method cater to his cubs and he will soon follow, especially with his trauma and insecurities. It's easy to manipulate both Luier and Silly girl with your kind, loving, protective concern mother mask. Don't get it twisted you love the children and they Quickly became your property but it was Wukong You were truly after, and the way you handled him sweeten him to the idea of marriage. Treat him like the king he is, whisper loving sexy compliments to him, heal his dying ego and give him what he wants. Once he becomes addicted to you, There will be no going back for him.😈
(NR Wukong) Maan you would have lots of fun with this, especially since he eccentric and all over the damn place. Though you still remain very careful and would just leave suitable Hints and suggestions for him, acting all shy and unsure of everything and Wukong would end up exactly where you want him to be. S*x appeal also works hand in hand with your innocence and charm, you would wear some Rather scandalous clothes telling him they make you look pretty and he would be down bad. So yeah Wukong would be under your thumb by the end of it.
(MKR Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhhh the best way to manipulate him is to always play into his emotions, and his frequent emotion Rage. You fuel his thoughts love and obsession also anger, vengeance and hatred for everyone who wronged him. You had educated him and Fruity into listening to only you and told them both that the world was out to get them, and we have to protect each other. You love him so much and want to keep him forever, so fuel his hatred, vengeance and resentment make him forever yours to control and love😈
(Netflix Wukong) Look at him, so desperate for approval and acceptance that he had to brag loudly for attention. Just so he can fill the hollow void that is his self-esteem man, you really didn't have to do much. Just show interest in his stories and accomplishments it's so easy. Although at the same time you make sure to reward and show support for is wacky and unrealistic goals, because when he fails he'll run back to your tall loving arms begging you to take him back and stay and that is never your fault 😈
(BMW Wukong) His pride, arrogance, and ego are both your advantages and his downfall. You would charm and flirt with him acting all impressed with his reputation and powers, while sometimes acting as a Dansel in distress. For Wukong, you act like you can't stand to be away from him, inflating his pride and ego in an alarming rate. Soon, your compliments become the fuel to Wukong's power and now goes out of his way to impress you further keeping your eyes on him at all times. That was until you started looking elsewhere seeing the other strong demon men you acted impressed by and just like that Wukong few into panicked desperation and started pulling out all the stops to win you back, and that's how you knew he was yours forever😈
(Destined one) Now honestly with the destined one I feel would be the hardest to get too, he's got way more brain activity then BMW would. He is a man of focus, discipline, determination, and very goal Oriented until you found out about the silent monkeys rather ugly jealousy. You show your kind loving mask and charm him into spending time with you, while you go shopping together until you heard multiple wold whistles and cat calls. You went to try on a rather revealing dress that you liked the colors of and you spotted a dark look on the destined one's face. He looked calm, but you felt his murderous aura from the dressing room, and that became your meal ticket. Soon, the destined one was under your spell toomaking sure nobody tried to take you from him and vise versa.
@mysticbubbles00 @desperatelittledemon If I had a nickel for every time Y/N Cookie got a very experienced butler, I’d have two-
Crimson Berry and Camembert Cookie were in your quarters, cleaning and tidying up the place as they shared banter with each other.
△ “It’s such a pleasantry to be the ones tasked with cleaning our Sovereign’s chambers, is it not?”
△ “You would be right, not just any Cookie gets the privilege! I’m still fairly taken aback when our Sovereign requested us to take care of it. They’d normally send one of their inner circle Cookies to take care of it”
△ “Our Sovereign’s inner circle…I wouldn’t be telling the truth if I say those eccentric group of Cookies did not make me steadfast once in a while.”
△ “That is understandable. There’s our princess, who send the accused to the dungeon at a moment’s notice if she suspects unladylike behavior towards our Sovereign.”
△ “Then there is our kingdom’s general. She is a tough Cookie, a bit too tough if I may speak out. I’ve never felt so on edge when I volunteered to shine her armored dresses, it felt like I was put under a microscope!”
△ “The kingdom’s advisor is by the books and the one I will commend for her efforts, not to say the others don’t do a good job. She’s loyal to our Sovereign and sees to it that the tasks are done.”
△ “I see the need for an advisor, but our kingdom assassin is how I ponder on why we keep around. We must handle threats to the kingdom before they happen, yes. However, that Cookie of beauty might adore her job a little too much to my shock.”
△ “And let’s not forget their personal medic that they have on standby. It is important that our Sovereign gets rendered first aid on the spot, but I had the unfortunate experience of trying medicine from that Cookie. I nearly had tears come out my mouth as I tried to remain pleasant!”
△ “And our apothecary…well, I don’t have anything too much to say about her. I do believe that she gets a little too close for comfort when soothing our Sovereign at the kingdom spa.”
△ “They are quite the cast of Cookies, but I think our Sovereign wouldn’t want it any other way.”
△ “Indeed, they were their second chance. It is only fitting that they return their thanks the way they know how.”
△ “Could you pass me our Sovereign’s cape? I wish to wash it myself.”
△ “Oh no, I will wash it. I don’t wish to keep you long.”
△ “I insist. Please hand it to me.”
△ “I insist as well. Let me handle it.”
The glasses from the two glinted as they stared each other challengingly as they had a tug of war with the cape.
Hey I just wanna say LOVE your work, but I was wondering if you can do a shadow milk cookie x f! reader fanfic where he gets EXTREMELY jealous like yandere point and tries to play a trick on the reader to get them to kiss him and it ends with them arguing and making out?
Date requested: 7/12/2025
Fandom: Cookie Run: Kingdom
Type: one-shot
You were finishing a chore near the chapel—sweeping, humming to yourself— when Milk Cookie approached with his usual shy smile and warm voice.
“May I ask you for a favor, dearest?” he said, tone velvety smooth.
You blinked. “Sure! What is it?”
He held out a hand. “Come with me. There’s something I must show you… something I’ve made just for you.”
Curiosity bloomed in your chest. His gloved hand was soft, and you let him guide you through the winding cathedral halls, deeper than you’d ever gone before—until you reached a private prayer room, its high walls draped in silks and the air thick with incense and… roses?
“Did you decorate this?” you asked, flustered.
“I did,” he said, gently tucking a curl behind your ear. “You’ve been so kind, and I wished to repay you.”
You swallowed. His hand lingered too long against your cheek.
“It’s… beautiful.”
“Not as beautiful as you.”
That made your heart stutter—but before you could respond, he leaned close and whispered:
“I wanted to ask something.”
“What is it?”
“If I were someone else—if I looked different, spoke differently… would you still kiss me?”
Your brows furrowed. “What?”
Milk Cookie gave a breathy laugh—soft, almost pitying. “I see how you smile at the others. I see how you never look at me the way you look at them.”
Your heart dropped into your stomach.
“Milk—”
“Don’t you dare lie to me, darling.”
His tone snapped like brittle glass. When you looked up again, his eyes weren’t gentle. They were burning.
“I could be them, you know,” he whispered, stepping forward, one hand raised—and then, like a mirage, his body began to shift.
In a ripple of magic and holy energy, he transformed—first into Rye Cookie, winking, playful. Then Clover Cookie, holding a bouquet. Then Espresso, cold and refined, reaching for your hand.
You stumbled back.
“I’ve been watching,” he whispered in your favorite voice. “Learning. Perfecting.”
“No—what are you doing?”
He changed again, back into himself and walked forward slowly, gaze pinned to yours, voice low and sharpened with something wrong.
“If you won’t kiss me,” he murmured, “then maybe you’ll kiss them. But it will still be me, won’t it? Does it matter if I lie, if it brings you closer?”
“You’re insane—!”
“You made me this way.”
You slapped him. It was instinct. A flash of fury, betrayal, disbelief.
His cheek turned. He didn’t even flinch. The red mark bloomed.
“I trusted you,” you hissed. “I thought you were my friend. And you tried to trick me into—into kissing you?! What the hell is wrong with you!?”
He smiled bitterly.
“I’ve tried being patient. I’ve waited, and waited, and prayed, and you still look at everyone else like they matter more. Like I’m invisible.”
“I never meant to—”
“Then why does it hurt when you smile at them?!”
You froze. His voice cracked. And then he whispered, like a confession: “I just wanted to be the one you saw. The one you chose.”
Silence.
You couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. The betrayal stung like broken glass in your throat—but he wasn’t grinning like a villain. He looked like he was falling apart. Like he hated himself for even trying.
“You didn’t need to lie to me,” you murmured. “You didn’t need illusions. You just needed to ask.”
And then you kissed him.
Furious. Breathless. Full of emotion neither of you had names for.
Your hands curled in his robes, yanking him down; his arms wrapped around your back, hoisting you against his chest as he kissed you like he was starving—like this was salvation.
His lips were trembling. So were yours.
“You should still hate me,” he gasped against your mouth. “You should run.”
“I’ll yell at you later,” you snapped, “but for now—shut up and kiss me.”
He obeyed with a fervent groan, pressing you against the chapel wall, holy light flickering in the stained glass as your hearts finally aligned—messy, imperfect, real.
And when he whispered “mine” against your skin, it didn’t feel like a trap.
