Asriel

“Hey, Asriel.”

The child prince looks up from the bowl he’s mixing with his hands. Pale dough clings to his fur and there’s evidence of sneaky tastes dripping down his cheek. The human child next to him looks similar, flour plastered all over their clothes and face. They have a mischievous smile on their face, a common sight for Asriel. “Yeah, Chara? What is it now?”

They snicker quietly and hold up a spoon containing a mound of brown powder. “Want to try a spoonful of cinnamon?”

Asriel snorts and nudges their grinning face away, spilling some of the cinnamon and adding to the mess on the counter. There’s laughter in his voice as he says, “Come on! That’s supposed to be for Mom’s pie!”

The kitchen’s normally soft yellow glow is spattered in the wreckage of previous food fights between the two as they bake butterscotch cinnamon pies for their parents. The thick, warm smell of fresh pie wafts through the air, making their mouths water.

“I already finished mine and you already put cinnamon into yours!” Chara counters. Their eyes are shining with crimson excitement and curiosity. “Besides, haven’t you ever wondered what pure cinnamon tastes like? I bet it’s really good.”

Asriel takes the spoon from them and dumps its contents into his dough. He looks triumphantly at his sibling. “There! Now the crust will be cinnamony too!”

Chara simply yanks his ear down playfully. “Whatever, you dork! That one’s going to Dad!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll balance it out with more butterscotch!”

The hallway echoes with their laughter. Toriel and Asgore lay in bed, looking at each other. The queen murmurs, “Should we intervene yet?”

Asgore wraps an arm around her, pulling his wife close and nuzzling her affectionately. He hums tiredly and replies, “Not yet.”