Pretty description of Kris Dreemurr’s eyes because I had nothing better to do
Their dark hair often shaded their face. It was something that everyone around them had grown used to. For a brief stint, their mother had tried to encourage them to tie their hair back. Her ideas were subtleish, but also still more obvious than they could have been. Buying ribbons for them, asking them what’d happened to their old headband, teaching them how to towel wrap their hair when it was wet to keep it off of their neck and shoulders.
Eventually though, she’d given up on it, well aware of the fact that they could see—pun acknowledged—right through each attempt. They supposed she liked to see their eyes because they were the one part of her child that even slightly resembled her. Everything else though?
Even if they weren’t a human being raised by monsters, the differences would have been obvious. Their mother and brother had white hair, while their father’s was the color of the buttercups he often grew in his shop. Theirs was dark brown with the barest hinting of red undertones. Their family’s fur was white, and their skin was soft beige. Their parents both towered over even most other monsters, and their brother wasn’t far behind. Meanwhile, they hadn’t even reached 5.5 feet yet.
But their eyes?
Perhaps the resemblance was part of the reason why they kept them hidden. Not to separate themself from their family, but to keep that small part for themself. To tuck it into their heart like a secret note passed between friends in class. The warm, fierce carmine seemed inhuman, if only slightly, and that single word had ingrained itself in their brain from the first moment they heard it.
Most humans, they’d read online once, had one of four eye colors. Blue, green, hazel or brown. Colors like black, gray, amber and violet were rare, and ones like white, pink and red were nearly unheard of. That was something they liked about themself physically. It distinguished them just enough so that they could feel that they even slightly belonged.
In the Dark Worlds too, they’d found out. Whether it be in Castle Town, Card Kingdom or Cyber City, their eyes never changed. Always bright, always fierce, always red. Always theirs.
It was something they had control over too.
Most things these days remained outside of their hands, including those very hands. Their back often ached from the ramrod straight posture they were made to hold, their expression most often resembled a blank, emotionless mask, and they found themself running often despite never having been especially athletic. From their hair to their soles, their body seemed often to belong to somebody else, to that thing, that heart, that tried to make them resent the color of the one thing about themself that they liked.
They were stubborn though, and the creature knew it. They would not be stripped of themself completely. Each thing they could do on their own, they did. They made overly emotional speeches, they protected their friends, they jumbled the charms on a letter bead bracelet. They closed their eyes to not see Asriel’s room, they forced out confidence that didn’t exist when they were made to flirt, they tried to bully the puppet master into letting them eat moss.
And their eyes stayed covered.
The one thing that Kris Dreemurr liked about themself would remain theirs.
