Want me to gush about my OCs?
Send me a “🖊+an OC“ and I will talk about that OC! It can be a headcanon, a fun fact, a small paragraph of backstory- anything!
Perfection. What was perfection? It was the beauty in the models of magazines that he admired so. It was the charm that his sister possessed, always surrounded by people. It was the look of approval he never saw in his father’s eyes.
Perfection was something Seto didn’t have.
There is a certain point in time that one becomes aware of their appearance. It started young with Seto. A blunt comment here or there from another, be it adult or child, struck him like a thorn. It burrowed deeper in, bleeding and festering and creating such ugly thoughts-
Ugly thoughts for an ugly person.
Insecurity replaced innocence as he grew older. Carefree days were replaced with long hours of “improvement” sessions. Along with work out after work out there was experimenting. Hair, make-up, diets. Anything that could help him achieve his perfect self.
It was never enough, was never going to be enough. Seto knew this but didn’t care. His strive for perfection was deadly, a poison. A poison that nearly brought a end to his quest of beauty. Nearly brought a end to him, cries his sister. He cries back, begging to not tell Mom and Dad. He’ll do better, be better just don’t tell them please...!
And he does. With the guiding and caring hand of his sister Seto learns to balance. Baby steps, one foot in front of the other. A fresh start is what Ayame says and yes, a fresh start is exactly what he needs.
“My name..” He stops for a moment, looking away from the handsome stranger that has zoomed in on him. Lips turn up, eyelashes flutter. He scoots closer to this stranger, soaking up the attention and look in their eyes. “You can call me Shiro.”
And this fresh start helps, to an extent. The temptation to fall back into old habits is always there. The need for perfection is subdued but not conquered. A whisper in his ears, sometimes a roar that Shiro can’t help but listen to.
