Part 2/2 of my previous post. kiddo beasts. lil nuggets.
I feel aggressively maternal towards them.
Notes:
If Child Fount were to grow up, he'd eventually figure out how to magically alter his hair into what Adult Fount's hair became, aka basically whatever Princess Luna from MLP: FIM did to her hair/mane.
He probably also did this same hair magic on Salt as well, causing Salt's hair to become the wavy magic kinda-vapor that it is in his adult form.
As doodled, mini Sugar's wing ears flap when she's happy.
This AU still doesn't have lore, as frankly I just wanted to headcanon childhood designs for the Beasts and draw them being stupid. Do expect me to draw these ones again; I am growing quite fond of them.
(AU where the beasts actually have a childhood? AU where the beasts got turned into kids instead of being sealed away? AU where everything's happy and cheery and alright and nothing goes wrong? Who knows lowkey. Honestly, I just wanted to draw cute lil baby shenanigans and headcanon designs lmao)
Cookie Run doodle dump that contains a fair amount of Smoked Cheese Cookie and also maybe some other guys as well.
I've made a wing design for him previously, but this one popped into my head and honestly I like it better than the first so
I think they'd make a fun friend group if they had the chance.
"Let's be angelically ethereal and also gay husbands together," or something. I need to remake this as an art piece with a proper composition n' stuff.
Alright, I'm bored. Here's a 2k-word Smokedspice one-shot for my dearly beloved Smokedspice Nation.
Or Alternately Titled;
"Filtered Sunlight Through the Red-Orange Halls"
where a whole 150 words are solely dedicated to Smoked Cheese Cookie's makeup routine.
(more notes at the end of the fic)
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Smoked Cheese Cookie awoke, light dusting his eyelashes as he stirred. His fingers brushed against silken bedsheets, talons catching slightly on the fabric. He exhaled and then pushed himself up, preening in the morning light. It filtered into the room in wavering touches, curtained by gilded fabrics that fluttered in the wind and separated the room from the balcony.
He reached up, routinely neatening his waved hair back to presentability, glimmers of golden strands of cheese disappearing under muted auburn. When he deemed himself neat, he stood and stretched, inhaling. The air smelled of spice, both of the terrain and the cookies that lived within it. He was getting used to it now, but his instincts remained to yearn for the sharp, cheese-indulged scent of home. Smoke escaped from behind his teeth as he exhaled, noting the air with the avianās own signature.
Smoked Cheese made way to a dresser across from the bed, where his garments were folded neatly. He pulled them on with routine precision, the clothes long known to his body like a second skin.
The careful preening of his hair was subsequently hidden under his hood as he pulled it over his head, tucking any stray locks of gold-streaked red beyond sight. He adjusted the beak of it to center, the shadow produced falling over his eyes.
He then moved to the opposite side of the room, where water trickled from a carved-lion fountain into a basin that drained back into the walls of the palace. Beside it was a somewhat small standing mirror that required him to crouch to see clearly, and with a thin brush and powders that heād crafted with his own hands, he carefully painted on his eye decorations.
Black charcoal, for the heavy-liddedness that allowed him to dampen his emotions from the public, and the markings under his eyes that signified his rank as general. A streak of pearl-crushed white above the lids, then powdered gold at the corners and feathering the corners to catch eyes when the sun hit his face. He pressed his thumb into the black charcoal and rubbed it over his lips as a last note, before stashing away his cosmetics and standing.
He exited into the hall, staff in hand. A few servants passed by, paying him no mind. As he walked, his slitted eyes flicked around the walkway. Unlike the Golden Cheese palace, built of yellowed parmesan sandstone bricks upon the sand and inlaid to the brim with gold wherever it could find space, the Spice Temple looked as if it had been carved out of the surrounding cliffs itself, in a deep, russet-orange-red.Ā
The only embellishments found in the stone were rocks inlaid in the wall reliefs and delicately carved murals of ancient tales, both true and mythic, that decorated almost every wall of the structure. It was a millennium old, the most notable damage to it being the recent obliteration of the more protruding part of it to the west, when Her Radiance had awakened the ancient power within her and rained a hell of spears upon all who opposed her, most notably the temple, the warmongering servants that dwelled within it, and the beast that controlled the spicelands himself.
He paused, coming across a balcony that looked out into an inner courtyard. He was a few floors up, and he watched the servants pass by below, carefully pruning overgrown bushes and harvesting from the few fruit-bearing plants that grew their pay.
āSmoked Cheese Cookie!ā āMister General!ā he looked up, raising an eyebrow. Two children, one, a juvenile kulfi and the other, a young spice cookie, approached him, carrying a tray between them. On top of the tray sat a steaming cup of brown drink.
āHis spiceness asked us to deliver this to you, fi!ā the kulfi child said, pushing the tray skyward as it craned its neck to look up at the much taller cookie. āHow kind of him.ā Smoked Cheese shifted his staff to his underarm to free his hands and leaned down, giving both children an appreciative pat on the head as he lifted the cup from the tray.Ā
With a sip, the general could identify the drink- deep, warm, rich chocolate, with an added touch of spice that made the throat prickle as it went down. My favorite. Of course he would. He swirled the cup, smiling softly. āThank you, young ones. Give him my regards, will you? And- oh, tell him he can find me in my private gardens, if he wishes to find me today.ā
The children nodded, eyes shining as they skittered down the hall back the way they came, no longer focused on balancing the drink between them. Smoked Cheese watched them go, absentmindedly running his thumb around the rim of the cup.Ā
He knew those children somewhat well- they, and a few other children, were brought over from the spanning spicelands in an attempt to make the temple more homely. On occasion, he would teach the children something or other, but usually they simply trailed their parents or ran around the temple's halls and gardens.
He took another sip of the drink and began to move once again, down a flight of long-worn stairs and into a lower part of the temple. The click of his staff echoed throughout the spanning passageways, and occasionally, a warming wind blew through the tall-carved windows, making the flattened feathers of his headdress rise and settle again.
A few more halls and turns- truthfully, he wasnāt too sharp on the geography of the palace just yet- and he turned out into another courtyard, not too dissimilar to the one heād observed before. Unlike the previous one, this was much more overgrown with plants, climbing up the carved wall reliefs and curling around columns. Translucent azure fabrics hung from above, filtering and dampening light through their sparkling threads.
Towering palms grew and stretched up to even the higher-level balconies, and cheese papyrus and string cheese grass grew in whatever corners they could find, adding pleasing sparks of yellow and gold among the blankets of hazel grass. By the far wall, next to another trickling fountain, some stray pillows and blankets lay set upon a collection of boulders, where Smoked Cheese often relaxed when the sun got high in the sky. At the moment, the sky was still a pale blue, the sun still hanging eastward, beyond the sky view of the courtyard, and not yet scorching the lands with its unyielding heat.
Soft music drifted down into the clearing, gifted in happenstance by some musicians up on some higher landing. While Smoked Cheese had made no specific claim for a garden of his own, Burning Spice had certainly made it clear to the servants that this one was to be shaped to the generalās whims, and the generalās whims only. Heād taken the chance, shaping it into somewhat of a miniature slice of home within the walls of the temple.
He stood there, idly rotating his staff in his hand as he drank from the cup of hot chocolate, observing the aimless movement of the courtyard foliage. Once he finished, he placed the empty cup in the grass and straightened, continuing his idle and swaying slightly to the music. He could appreciate a quiet morning once in a while āno need to jump into action immediately.
Movement behind him, and warmth and the sharp smell of spice engulfed him as his reason for his stay in the temple approached from behind, taking his favorite spot as he rested his chin in the crook of Smoked Cheeseās neck, an exhale making one of the gold-tipped tassels of the avianās hood sway. Burning Spice Cookieās chest ghosted against Smoked Cheeseās back, the taller having to bend slightly to find his place.
Smoked Cheese sighed quietly, smoke escaping his lips and disappearing into the air as he reached up, fingers finding the beastās cheek and indulging in the dough, thumb rubbing against the stubble that prickled his shoulder. āGood morning, my angel.ā Burning Spice rumbled, scarred hands finding scarred waist, claws pressing slight indents into Smoked Cheeseās dull brown dough. The general closed his eyes, allowing himself to indulge in the saccharine desire that was the touch of his once-enemyās warmth.
The overwhelming scent of spice that had once sickened him to his core now dulled his senses, lulling him adrift into a haze that he was not too keen on escaping just yet. Burning Spiceās dark swaths of hair fell over his shoulders, and he reached up, curling a strand around his finger.
My angel, what do you want us to be? The beast had asked only a few nights ago as they looked over the spanning lands. I donāt know. Smoked Cheese hadnāt responded. I want us to be everything. I want you to be everything. I want you to be eternally mine. I want you, my treasure, as mine and mine alone. The general shifted his head slightly and pressed his lips to the beastās temple, and Burning Spice rumbled in response, antennae brushing against his angelās nose.
Burning Spice Cookie was the reason why Smoked Cheese was here in the spicelands in the first place. The general was to oversee the reconstruction and rehabilitation of the temple and the surrounding area, and once he deemed the work complete, both he and the beast would return home to the Golden Cheese Kingdom.Ā
While they were not forced apart under Golden Cheese Cookieās watch, there was certainly aā¦ separation that found its way between them. Smoked Cheese often found himself busied by his work, and Burning Spice made efforts to make himself scarce in the queenās vicinity. Here in the beastās own lands, on the other hand, the general found himself able to relax, most of his assigned efforts unneeding of his direct management. It was a vacation, of sorts. An allowance to let himself go, if only just for a month or two.
Burning Spice finally lifted his head, though he did not loosen his grasp on Smoked Cheese, pulling him closer so his chest pressed flush to the generalās back. āHow did you sleep?ā he hummed, and Smoked Cheese blinked, awakening from his stupor at last. āThe usual, I suppose.ā he kept his grasp on the lock of hair in his fingers, tugging it slightly as he thought. āI havenāt been needed in command, have I? Iāve taken the chances to sleep in when I can, so I wouldnāt be surprised if Iāve missed something important.ā
āNothing important to me, at least.ā Burning Spice rumbled, hands moving upward as his claws traced up Smoked Cheeseās toned arms, feathering the dough, but making no harm. Straightening upward, he gently took the generalās wrist in one hand, the other hand prying his staff from his taloned fingers and letting it drop to the grass with a dull thump.
Slowly, he began to lead Smoked Cheese in some sort of backward waltz, swaying to the sound of the music, one hand returning to the generalās hip, the other keeping hold of his wrist. Smoked Cheese preened, tilting his head backward and brushing his nose against the beastās chin.
After a moment of silence, the avian turned, facing Burning Spice and wrapping his arms around him, pressing his face into his chest, lips resting against the beastās glowing souljam. Burning Spiceās hands returned to Smoked Cheeseās waist, and they spun in lazy circles, letting the music guide the dance.Ā
Smoked Cheese could feel himself losing his mind within the embrace of the beast, scent of spice and fire crumbling his thoughts to nothing but dust in the wind. He could feel the pulsing of the souljam echo throughout his body, resonating with the power of his queenās souljam that powered every inch of his immortal dough. The feathers of his headdress rose like a bird soaking in the blessing of sunlight, and a low chirr found itself out of his throat as his talons lightly traced along Burning Spiceās back.
Burning Spice smiled toothily, a purr echoing in response as he reached up to run his hand along the generalās hood. āThe day rises. Shall we begin our work soon?ā Smoked Cheese protested a response, though unintelligible; however, his arms tightened their grasp around the beast, the message clear. Burning Spice hummed pleasantly, lowering his face to press against the crown of the avianās head. āAs you wish. Only for you shall I waste another eternity, my angel.ā
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Notes:
I don't actually have that many notes for this fic
I was planning to make a mini-comic about why Bspice refers to Smeese as "Angel" instead of the more popularly used "Songbird" nickname, but I never really got around to it. tldr Smoked Cheese has never really been much of a "song" bird lmfao
This probably takes place in my main "post-canon" au that I'm always talking about. Probably.
Originally, this wasn't even meant to be something that had effort put into it, at first I had just started writing this because I was grieving the fact that I indeed had no new Smokedspice fics to read, and realized if I wanted to fix that, I needed to do it myself.
