Goooddddddd - Blog Posts
pLEASE?
What does Tgn! Ciel act like in modern au?
I’d still want him to have the long hair.
He straightens it so it’s perfectly flat, like silk. He’s very beautiful, he probably has a shared Instagram account with his brother, posting those stereotypical rich boy things - vegan lattes, their dainty hands resting on the steering wheel of an expensive car, dressed up in suits for a soiree.
His daddy is very rich. He started with railroads and now he’s a billionaire. They live in a penthouse apartment - the security is state-of-the-art.
Until, the night his family is killed.
He and his brother are dragged into the wine cellar. Ciel shoots his twin with his daddy’s gun, then turns it on himself. They’re discovered the next day by Adrian, who manages to conceal the gun before the police arrive.
The paparazzi snap pictures of Ciel’s small, bloody body as he’s carried outside. They swarm his hospital room. The rumours run thick.
Ciel is infuriated by how useless the city’s police force is. He decided to head to the slums to seek out an assassin.
He’s dressed in high-waisted slacks, a fine shirt, a little blazer. His hair is in a ponytail, his little lips shiny with gloss. He looks beautiful and clean, and out of place in the dark bar he wanders into.
He wants the meanest guy there. The bartender laughs at him.
“You’ll want Michaelis,” he spits - and gestures to a man sitting in the corner.
He’s wearing a leather jacket and it looks like he just left a fight. His hair is all messy and his eyebrow is split open. He’s smoking, dry blood coagulated in his nostril.
He takes one look at Ciel through his narrowed eyes and sneers, crushing his cigarette on the cheap vinyl table.
“Didn’t ask for a whore,” he bites.
And yeah, ahahaha - everything is pretty much the same. Ciel rides bitch on Diablo, arms wrapped around Sebastian. He still has a switchblade, Sebastian has a shotgun.
Maybe eventually they get a car… named Diablo II.
Ciel wears lingerie, it’s more modern. He wears g-strings and garters and little straps.
They travel town to town, staying in dirty hotels, eating food from the convenience stores. Ciel saves all the soaps from the places they stay - he likes to keep clean, just like a cat.
That’s the aesthetic, old and dirty hotel rooms, neon signs and roadtrips. Leather seats, lingerie, shotguns and bullets and tracking men down in misty fields, abandoned buildings.
Ciel becomes some viral sensation, an online celebrity. A modern day Robin Hood.
They fuck in Sebastian’s car, Ciel’s clean little trousers bunched down around his thighs, riding reverse cowgirl, pushed over the dashboard, silk hair in his face.
He’s sobbing. He can’t speak when he gets fucked this hard. This position - he can’t control it. Gravity pushes him down, Sebastian’s blood-dark cock pushed up into his guts.
Sebastian’s hands bruise his thighs, keep his legs split open so he can fuck up into him. Ciel’s prone to fainting when they fuck too rough, head rolling into the crook of Sebastian’s neck.
Sebastian would be the type of guy who would film their sex. Take photos. Want to make sex tapes, humiliate Ciel as he watched them fuck, playing it over and over, getting the heir all flustered. Use it as blackmail in arguments - “you aren’t mad at me heiress, you were moaning my name just an hour ago.”
He’d cum inside of Ciel and pull out, zip Ciel’s trousers back up and groan as his cum dripped out of Ciel and stained the fabric, fingers crooked over the spread of his thighs, smirking as the heiress shook in humiliation.
Maybe Ciel buys Sebastian a collar.
I seriously love this headcanon. There’s so many different things you could do. Sebastian would snort cocaine. DeWitt would be a dirty cop.
Ugh. It’s just like the modern LPM au - no one ask me to write them, because I will.