|●|DBH: Connor x Reader Oneshots|○|

|●|Beautiful|●|

{{Hnnnn, I somehow managed to write this at night because idk- I know I haven't been updating as much lately, and I'm sorry for that, but I'll have an A/n at the end explaining this. :')

!¡WARNING¡! Contains mentions of self harming and a low self-esteem (Y/n).

Also, Con is a hooman in this one, coz I love human Connor tbh- ;-;

I will try to write a part two to this as well. :) I just dont know when oof-}}
_______________________________________

   Appearance seemed to be the only thing that ever mattered to society, even now, as it was 2038, people still worshiped and fawned over those who possessed the 'perfect' body and facial features. Whether it be that of a male, or female's, hell, maybe even some androids. If one's physical features were considered 'perfect', then that person would be seen as attractive as well, and therefore would be acceptable for society - unless, of course, they had a unattractive personality to go with it that showed -.

   (Y/n) had long ago deemed herself as 'imperfect', and not acceptable for others. Scars and a few fresh cuts were littered all over almost every inch of skin in certain areas; all along her arms, thighs, and a few light ones along her stomach as well. Because of this, her self-esteem towards the way she looked was extremely lower than it had been before she started cutting. The only reason she started doing it was because of the mere fact that she was lonely.

   Yes, it may have sounded stupid to other people since she started self-harming just because she wanted a lover, and to her it seemed stupid as well. But when she would see couples always with one another, laughing, holding hands, and giving the occasional kiss, it made her gut twist unpleasantly at the thought of her ending up being alone forever. (Y/n) honestly didn't care how pathetic it seemed at this point, getting worked up over not having a significant other, and only let herself drown in her sorrows at home.

   She had tried almost everything before her life went downhill. She would attempt to speak to random men in public, but would always be shot down almost immediately, even if it was just a simple question of, 'How are you today?'. Then she proceeded to going to clubs or bars, thinking she could maybe meet someone there, but that was a big mistake and failure on her part. Hell, she even tried online dating apps, but that still didn't work.

   (Y/n) honestly couldn't understand why nothing was working, until she came to a conclusion that she just wasn't good enough for anyone. That she simply wasn't as beautiful as any other woman her age, and didn't fit into societies standards. That's when she had started cutting, only making it worse but at the same time helping relieve the pain that ached in her mind.

   A sigh escaped the (H/c) haired females lips as her eyes stared dully at the crimson tinted shard clutched tightly in her hand, causing the sharp edges to lightly cut and dig into her palm, which only added onto the blood on the floor. (Y/n)'s left arm was coated in the same color liquid that was on the mirror shard, leaking from the horizontal cuts all the way down her forearm. The piece of mirror clattered against the ground as it slipped from her grasp, her almost lifeless (E/c) hues just looking at the other pieces since she had punched the mirror of her vanity not long ago, simply because she didn't like the reflection that stared back at her.

   "Fuck my life..." A mumble left her lips as she used her right, bloodied hand to force herself up off the floor, only wincing the slightest at the familiar sting. After she had stood up she stumbled over to her bathroom, where she then proceeded to wash her blood off her arm and hand. (Y/n) stayed in there for a good fifteen minutes, holding a rag to her arm and hand to make sure it wouldn't bleed enough to make even more of a mess that she already made of the carpet in her bedroom.