Work Text:
asriel should probably find the intrusion of a brand new baby sibling quite a frustrating situation to deal with, but in all honesty, he’s been infatuated since he first laid eyes on them.
his very best friend, december holiday (although everybody called her dess), had come over a few days after they arrived, standing on the very tips of her hooves to peer into the bassinet, sticking her whole snout inside with wide, staring eyes. they were very strange looking, unlike any other monster that either of them had seen before, but he had to remind himself that kris wasn’t a monster at all, rather hometown’s first and only human. it made them special, after all.
the first thing dess had commented on was their complete lack of fur, or feathers, or scales, save for a fine fuzz on top of their head. they must get cold, she said to him, without anything to keep the wind away. asriel had told her that for as long as he was there, they would never feel a single chill or shiver. he’d lend them his spare coats and jumpers, even his favourite one with a flower knitted into the chest, because they would need it more than him, which made it okay.
later, at the table with cartons of juice and spiced marmalade sandwiches, dess had piped up again, telling him that it was probably going to be annoying having to share everything, his bedroom, his squeaky whale in the bathtub, and the biscuits that his mum would let him get from the shops for behaving while in the trolley seat. he told her that it would be fine, he would still have enough space on the floor to play with his toys, it would be nice not having to play with them alone anymore, and kris was too young for biscuits and would be for quite a while, so that didn’t really matter anyway. through a sticky mouthful of sandwich, she’d said that babies are loud, and her baby sister would cry and cry and cry, even during the night when she wanted to go to sleep. asriel had pondered this for a moment, but told her that it was okay to cry, his mum had told him so many times, and that he cried a lot as well, so it was alright if they did too.
they’d watched toriel carry kris to her favourite chair in the lounge room, cradling them in her arms as she lifted a bottle to their mouth. they squirmed a lot, and toriel said that babies do that a lot, and they didn’t mean anything by it. asriel watched from the sofa as his mum made quiet little noises at his sibling, who made their own in return. dess was fidgeting in her seat, saying that they could go play with sticks in the garden, or build something out of his legos, or try and find where his parents hid the sugar cubes, but he didn’t care much for any of her suggestions. when she had made a frustrated comment about kris being boring and bald, he’d crossed his arms and said that she couldn’t say anything else until she had said sorry.
besides going to school, asriel had spent most of his days sitting with kris. he talked to them about whatever he could think of, and when his parents had politely asked him if he would rather have a friend over, he said that it was okay, and that even if kris couldn’t talk back yet, he was still happy to tell them about everything. half of the town had come to visit them by now, and the rest that didn’t surrounded them at church, talking in funny voices and waggling fingers at the baby in his mum’s arm. nobody had been mean to them just yet, but most liked to point out the differences between kris and himself, quietly asking his parents if it would confuse him. he wasn’t sure what was supposed to be confusing about it. even if kris didn’t have the same white fur as him, and would never grow their own horns, they were absolutely perfect.
one afternoon after church, when his mother was busy making lunch, his father was watching something boring on the television, and kris was fast asleep upstairs, an idea struck him. everybody had loved to point out how different kris looked, how they didn’t quite fit in with the rest of the family, and he knew exactly how to put a stop to it.
he tiptoed up the stairs, hopping over the spots that creaked when you bore enough weight onto them, and silently rummaged through his belongings until locating a pair of safety scissors designed for paper crafts. he glanced over at kris, still unmoving in their bassinet, and gave them a quick smile before making his way back downstairs and into the bathroom. he cautiously shut the door behind him, not wanting to slam it by accident, and pulled his small stepstool to the sink. there was a small tuft of marbled blond and white between his ears, and with a few snips it fluttered to the floor. it took a little more effort than he was expecting, but he managed to get one side of his face’s fur quite short before the doorknob twisted and his mother walked in, making a shocked squealing noise and snatching the scissors from his hand.
his father had run in after hearing this, took one look at his grinning face, and laughed so hard that he had to lean on the doorframe to stay upright. his mother was pacing back and forth beside him, her hands brought to cover her face, and through her fingers, eventually asked him what on earth he thought he was doing. he thought it was quite simple, really. he didn’t want kris to feel like they didn’t fit in, so he was going to make himself match with them, that way they wouldn’t be alone, and people would stop mentioning it. she shared several glances with his father, who was still desperately trying to compose himself, and said that it was a very thoughtful gesture, but he definitely should have asked for permission before taking a pair of scissors to his fur, especially with the door closed. he understood, apologising in his small voice for upsetting his mother, and his father had said that it could be much worse, at least he wasn’t hurt, and school pictures weren’t going to be taken for another few months, which would give it enough time to grow back.
she hadn’t seemed very satisfied by his response, but the damage was already done, and there was nothing she could do about it now, so he was sent to the table to wait for lunch while his parents swept the mess he had made into a dustpan. he drummed his fingers on the tablecloth, thinking about how he could hardly wait for lunch to be over with so he could run upstairs and show his sibling his new look. he knew that even if they couldn’t tell him as much, they were going to love it.