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izzy's playlists!
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@pinchofdeceit
semi selective and mutuals only blog for shadow milk cookie of cookie run: kingdom. oc, duplicate, multimuse and crossover friendly. 𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘢𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯. ( they / them. 31. ) established december 2025. minors please do not interact. carrd. spotify. rpcdni.
why are they all trying to make me into a saint? ( oh god! oh god! ) i want to do things. stop turning me into a saint.
i've written a couple instances of shadow milk inventing spells on the fly, and i think in general he's created a lot of tiny little spells to deal with minor inconveniences. ( because he's lazy and would never waste his time dirtying his hands doing something mundane if he could just snap his fingers and have the problem fix itself. ) at a glance, the act of "making up a spell" can charitably be described as scribbling a lot of weird symbols and circles — but in practice, what he's actually doing is comparable to writing in programming language. you can kind of think of it in terms of something like java; a spell is an object, methods are how it influences the world, etc. in its most basic form, magic more or less is code that changes reality — reality in this context just so happens to be ACTUAL REALITY as opposed to a program.
that also means when he's grumbling about fixing a spell or something suddenly breaking, he's basically enduring the fantasy-ified equivalent of a programmer suffering through messy code.
"i don't know if I ever mentioned," and then i promptly forget to mention it on tumblr for a month. anyway, hi. remember this?
unfortunate haircuts are SO last act! he would shave him bald.
anonymous &&. said... I have a bucket of the ultimate cookie dough What for? Come and find out will you.
❝ uhhnnnope. no. i'm all good, actually. you can keep it... far, far away from me. that stuff is full of microplastics. ❞
anonymously pester my muse.
anonymous &&. said... What is your favourite pasta shape?
❝ OOH, now you're asking the hard hitting questions! if we're talkin' purely in terms of aesthetics, it has GOT to be stelline — three guesses whyyy and the first two don't count! if you know, you know! ❞ fancy little star-shaped suckers they are. were you expecting him to give a different answer? ( if you were, you clearly don't know who you're dealing with! ) ❝ how-ev-er, for the prrractical pasta connoisseur, cavatappi is clearly the correct choice. it's the perfect vehicle for sauce AND soup. give it a try and thank me later — or don't! more for meee. ❞
anonymously pester my muse.
spreading that shadow milk youtube icon propaganda
anonymous &&. said... drops a printed copy of a 100k slow burn enemies-to-lovers whisk me into your heart fanfic into the spire's mailbox.
since when did the spire HAVE a mailbox? kinda puts a damper on that whole tax evasion gambit he's been pulling since — well, the invention of taxes as a concept. ( ooh, the cookie IRS wants him SO BAD! get in line ya dinguses. ) shadow milk can only assume it's one of the minions' handiwork. eugh, he'll have a chat with them later. he's more invested in the stack of paper shoved in the darn thing. and it's not even bills! no, no — it's something much scarier.
fanfiction. fanfiction of HIS work? nay, fanfiction of his most BELOATHED work — how did they find out where he lives? ( HIM. not BLUEBERRY COBBLER COOKIE. he uses a pseudonym for a reason, thank you very much. ) shadow milk squints, his upper lip unconsciously curling in disgust as he flips to the plot synopsis.
lemon glaze cookie and orange creamsicle cookie are bitter rivals in the war for beignet cookie's affection. however, when red tape and a frivolous lawsuit threatens the closure of the cake hound cafe, the two must set aside their differences and raise enough charity money to cover the legal fees — and perhaps... in the process... realize the ingredient they were missing all along was actually each other.
the stack of papers promptly burst into flame.
... however, the fire goes out just as quickly, leaving the fanfiction slightly charred around the edges. shadow milk tucks it underneath his arm with a derisive huff. on second thought, he wants to hate read this slop. oh, but THEN he'll burn it for sure.
anonymously pester my muse.
anonymous &&. said... So if you’re SHADOWmilk cookie do you have an evil twin called lightmilk cookie
❝ actually, my name is sparkling milk cookie. of course, most tend to refer to yours truly as the sage of truth or virtuoso — rest assured, i will gladly answer to all three. ❞ ooh, he's not used to using his name! it's a little exciting. ❝ although, at the risk of getting juuust a bit pedantic, i do believe shadow milk would be more suited to play the role of the evil twin in this duo — aesthetically and thematically speaking. not to imply anything unflattering about his character, of course. he is a bit rough around the edges, but there is certainly something worth salvaging if you look deep — HHGK? ❞
the sage is promptly silenced by shadow milk spraying an entire can of lemon-scented febreze in his face over the course of five uninterrupted minutes. like poisoning a bug.
what do you think this is? a dualmuse? get off his blog.
anonymously pester my muse.
anonymous &&. said... fuck it. unpinches your deceit.
❝ WAITWAITWAIT, JUST HOLD ON A MINUTE — ! ❞
the beast is engulfed by a comically large puff of smoke.
❝ ... ❞
anonymously pester my muse.
@prestideception &&. said... Were they not wide awake, the Fount would have been convinced this was a nightmare. One moment, they were at their desk, reorganizing papers and preparing exams for the Academy, when the candle illuminating their work blew out. The next they knew, laughter surrounded them, and those eyes. Those same hideous eyes that always plagued them. The ones they could never properly rid themselves of. The Fount grips their staff tightly and rises up from their seat, their jaw shifting and brow furrowed. "Who are you? Why do you insist on haunting me?" This had to end. Now. Else this torment would never cease.
it isn't merely one voice that's laughing — oh, it is DOZENS. young and old. high and deep. melodic and grating. voices that transcend the boundaries of such simplistic definitions altogether. ( coupled with a jam-curdling echo that distorts them even further. ) it feels like an entire crowd — nay, an AUDIENCE has gathered seemingly for the sole purpose of laughing at their expense.
❝ who am i? ❞ a single, oddly familiar voice cuts through the cacophony. the ringleader, the star, the main character makes his long awaited appearance! ( you may now applaud. ) ❝ who am i? my, my, my, is that a JOKE? ❞ the eyes, all glowing with an eerie blue light, seem to crinkle with amusement — as if they are but projections of the speaker's hidden face. the room beyond them may as well no longer exist; the darkness is impenetrable. it's as if the fount has been transported directly to the ocean's deepest depths. a cold, lonely place occupied only by the virtue and this eldritch presence that regards them with the strangest sense of familiarity. ❝ i take time out of my verrry busy schedule to drop by for a visit, and what do i get? no hello? not even an ounce of appreciation for the SET DRESSING? oh, i am hurt! this look is a classic. ❞
the darkness ripples strangely. as if it's tangible. as if it's a liquid. a cookie — or perhaps something merely masquerading as a cookie emerges from the tarry gloom. ❝ knock, knock. ❞ he says, flashing a mouthful of wickedly sharp teeth. ❝ who's there? it's meee! ❞ still no applause? c'mon — now THAT was an expertly executed entrance!
the beast opens his mouth to continue — only to pause mid-inhale. he squints. ❝ ... uhhhdid you do something with your hair? ❞ his tentacles also squint. ❝ i thought you hated it like that. ❞
ANONYMOUSLY PESTER MY MUSE!
Annoy them, ask them invasive questions, ask about their rps/ships, send them gifts, whatever you like!
(Mun may specify things they do not want, and remember to specify muse for multimuse blogs!)
@delightfuldeceit &&. said... " You could technically. Ethically wise? " Fountain will have to get back to him on that one, -DelightfulDeceit
❝ ETHICALLY? pfffhahaHAHA! ❞ he tilts his head back and laughs. loud — extra loud and extra grating. oh, it's a funny enough argument to make in its own right. ( a-seriously. bringing ethics into any matter where maestro is concerned is a punchline unto itself. ) but coming from FOUNTAIN? that might very well be the funniest thing he's heard all week — and that's no easy feat, considering the beast has to listen to his own jokes and he's objectively hilarious.
❝ fountie, fountie, fountie! ❞ maestro drifts up to float at eye level. he reaches out, squishing the virtue's face between his hands. personal space? never met 'er! ❝ haven't you realized? ethics and morality are just sweet little lies cookies tell themselves to feel a cheap rush of superiority. they don't ACTUALLY exist. ❞ squishes his cheeks even harder. ❝ think about it. knowledge as a concept is inherently DEVOID of any mor-al-ity whatsoever! it simply is. you should know that better than anyone. 'tis cookies who apply the intention — who turn the humble fire into an act of premeditated arson! ❞ the beast abruptly lets go, flitting away gracefully like a feather on the breeze. he floats with his back to fountain, arms folded neatly behind him — for dramatic effect, obviously. what is he if not performing?
❝ if you can do it, and you want it, those are the only things that matter! remember — there's no guarantee that anyone else would grant YOOOU the same consideration! ❞ maestro glances over his shoulder, eyes glowing faintly. he flashes a smile. ❝ ... don't you ever get tired of being the one getting used? ❞
@fortecircuit &&. said... nous’ ‘gaze’ casts over this so called ..cookie that calls themselves the “fountain of knowledge” that being of this stature completely went pass all bounds of their current stand in knowledge therefor they must correct this and see to this themselves “This is certainly our first meeting,I must know do you hold as much knowledge as you say you do otherwise what purpose do you serve?”
this presence. this... being. they are neither cookie nor witch — nor do they bear the slightest resemblance to either. yet the presence they command is indescribable. ( more than anything else, it feels... oddly reminiscent of his own eldritch origins. ) the fount of knowledge freezes, startled like a deer pinned beneath bright light. he blinks slowly, then appears to recoil as he realizes even THIS vast presence doubts his authenticity. why WAS he created? what IS his purpose? the questions plague the virtue, an endless source of uncertainty and pain. to hear them repeated back at him is like a pinch of salt in an open wound. ah, but what does it say when even this enlightened being seems not to know the answer?
❝ ... ❞ the fount closes his eyes. he composes himself with a deep breath. ❝ i am a vessel that houses the accumulation of all the world's knowledge. ❞ the virtue opens his eyes. he holds his head high, trying to maintain a sense of dignity. ❝ my mind is an archive that holds records of everything that was, everything that is and in time, everything that will be. i am, in essence, the greatest library earthbread will ever know — granted sapience for the sake of sharing my vast stores of knowledge more efficiently. ❞ he is not a person. he was never meant to be a person. his ego is merely a convenience; a mask meant to make him appear more approachable. unfortunately, in practice, it doesn't always work as intended. charisma is a skill acquired through practice he has not had.
❝ if you have your doubts, i would invite you to test me... however, you are not a cookie. so instead, o' kindred spirit, allow me to return your curiosity in kind. ❞ the stars glittering in his tentacles contort and twist — they form constellations that melt together into eyes. they're always there. always politely hidden. a gaze of his own, so to speak.
❝ why do you exist? what is YOUR purpose? ❞ and perhaps... through them he might gain insight into his own circumstances.
@boundforgreatness &&. said... "hypothetically, if we ran a coffee shop together, what would we call it?" (pv over here asking the real tough questions)
❝ ... a coffee shop? ❞
he's in the middle of organizing pure vanilla's ridiculous little collection of flower-shaped cups. not by color or plant type, mind you — rather, by whatever arrangement looks the best in shadow milk's objectively correct opinion. ( do NOT question him or his eye for aesthetics! he has dozens! ) he's holding a cute little mug shaped like a sunny-yellow buttercup when his other half speaks. instead of turning to face him properly, shadow milk leans back to stare at the cookie upside down. he blinks slowly, then flashes a grin. ❝ planning our retirement already, are we? aww, don't tell me you're feeling your age, sunshine. ❞ ignore that he is technically the older of the two — they're immortal. it doesn't matter.
❝ i suppose i'll indulge this adorable little fantasy of yours. now, as for the naaame... ❞ his body turns around. there's a noticeable delay before shadow milk's head spins upright. ❝ half and half, obviously. what ELSE would we call it? ❞ the beast entertains himself by holding out the coffee cup and making it look like pure vanilla is wearing it as a hat. considering his fashion tastes, that wouldn't be too terribly out of character.
❝ i'll go in with you on this hypothetical business venture if, AND ONLY IF, i am given the excluuusive right to make all of the latte art. also, i get to freestyle it. ❞
Well, he was a charmer, that was for sure.
Maybe not as suave as he thought he was, but the humour was certainly on point, and Timekeeper loved a good joke or crack when applicable. So! They decided she’d humour this… octopeese? That’s what the Director heard at some point. ( Honestly its getting a little confusing seeing all these similar-yet-not individuals. Like, how many are there? ) “Well.”
“The first thing that goes is that everything snaps back to the origin point of this whole – eh, chaotic mess.” a snort-giggle. “I snip-snip all the pretty little fractures and instead of choosing to… take a chunk out of the ultimate cookie or whatever, you pick a different option. Every choice you made up to that point has ramifications, and you’ll have the knowledge of preventing everything… but it also means you lose connections to the friends you’ve made along the way. Since the timelines can’t interfere, that means you will not be able to leave anymore. No visits to or from.”
A beat. “Say, you have a name to go by that’s not Shadow Milk? I’m trying to keep tabs on all of you different ones out there.”
❝ hmm. ❞ he hums. ❝ mhmmm. ❞ he hums even louder. ❝ mhmmm. hm. hmm. uh huh. hmmmmnnnope! ❞ the beast claps his hands, the sound sharp and jarring. ❝ oh, you had me in the first half — i came so, so, so close to saying yes! trimming old khaos down to size like an unruly shrub? ABSOLUTE CINEMA. ❞ shadow milk exhales a wistful sigh. ( he can picture it in his mind so clearly! the look on his face is hilarious. ) ❝ alas, that is not a conclusion i would ever be satisfied with — a-what can i say? i am a perfectionist. friendship-scmendship, ob-vious-ly — buuut i've had freedom yoinked from my poor little hands enough to last one timeline. there's NO WAY i would ever give it up willingly, even if it WAS to save my own dough! not a CRUMB! ❞
no, no. he WILL get the ending he desires — the one where he has everything he wants and khaos is left with nothing. even if he needs to gamble his entire timeline to do it.
❝ HOWEVER, i am open to taking suggestions if you have any alternatives in mind. i was thinkin' about dropping an airship on his head. heard it was effective — not that i have any experience in THAT department. ❞ he has definitely never been hit by an airship before! never ever!
anywho, check out THAT convenient change of subject! introductions? don't mind if he does! ❝ oh, i do indeed! so glad you asked. AHEM. ❞ the beast loudly clears his throat, before striking an elegant pose. ❝ for the sake of your convenience... and also because it is so, so fitting for an artist of my grrreat repute... you may address yours truly as maestro! i would say i'm the pretty one, but CERTAIN COOKIES take issue when ya call yourself that — sooo i'll just let my stage presence do the talking for me. ❞
organizing his collection of armillary spheres. oblivious.
