Work Text:
Cecilia Phantomhive sighed, drawing the curtains of her bedroom window shut. She had been pining for a boyfriend for the past three hours simply because she was a bored, horny eighteen-year-old with nothing better to do. Meanwhile, her useless, useless brother was probably busy being emo or reading celebrity gossip magazines in his study.
Gosh, imagine having the world’s second hottest butler (nobody could beat Claude, who was the first) and still staying single.
Being positively surrounded by eligible young men, she despaired at the fact that there was nary a suitor in sight. Cecilia knew better than to while away her time feeling sorry for herself, but much like your typical fanfiction protagonist, she received the same gratification from wallowing in self-pity that a pig felt when rolling around in shit.
Was it because she was ugly? She most certainly hoped not. Cecilia bit her lip and looked into the mirror above her vanity. The face that was regarded as the most beautiful in England stared back at her dolefully. Her cerulean orbs were shimmering oceans full of pain, her flawless skin was smooth and luminous as a pearl, and her red-gold tresses rippled down her back like a sheet of the finest silk.
Why was she such a hideous creature? Why was she still single? Especially after she'd downloaded Tinder the other day? Why was her life so -
'May I come in?'
Her thoughts were interrupted as Sebastian poked his head through the doorway and gazed at her sexily with orbs as red as a baboon’s arse. She couldn't help but swoon looking at how his gorgeous emo hair fell into his eyes when he tossed his head. She still wasn't over her ex, but Sebastian was the next best thing.
If only Claude hadn't left her for Kylie Jenner last week. If only the heartache did not linger like the smell of a burrito-scented fart in a car on a hot summer day.
'You certainly may.'
Sebastian entered the room, closing the door behind him. He was dressed in a My Chemical Romance shirt and ripped skinny jeans - attire that was most historically accurate - and held a bouquet of peonies in his gloved hands. There was an awkward silence as he continued to stare at her like she had suddenly sprouted a pair of chicken wings.
After what seemed like a decade, he cleared his throat and produced a box from one of his pockets. He then got down one knee and took her hand, a look of adoration like the one Severus Snape would give his favourite bottle of shampoo in his eyes.
'Cecilia Arabella Cordelia Evangeline Phantomhive, will you ignore the fact that we have never even had a proper conversation since I started working here and do me the honour of becoming my bride?'
Cecilia's eyes filled with joyous tears as she met his gaze. Why, there was nothing she would have loved more! He would probably devour her soul after sliding the ring onto her finger, but the fact that he was hot made up for just about everything. So what if she didn't even know what his favourite colour was?
'OH, I MOST CERTAINLY WILL, SEBAS-CHAAAAAAN! I AM NOW YOUR KAWAII WAIFU-DESUUUUUU!' She and Sebastian kissed until they could no longer kiss and ran to the nearest chapel, where Grelle Sutcliff and Kim Kardashian officiated the wedding.
And of course, this ended as any other fairy tale would have: they both then lived happily ever after, spending the rest of their days playing with their adorably satanic babies and taking their pet Chimera to the Ninth Circle of Hell for morning walks.