prplewille

[prplewille]

Prince Wilhelm [YOUNG ROYALS] @giftober 2024 | day 1: Broken

[prplewille]

Oooh fun

Tagged by: @nerdyfangirl76

Rules: You will be given a word. share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word. My word was HOME

These are from various WIP docs I have been writing on and one of them is from my original novel hehe but every one of them is from a different WIP

H : He hesitates and they watch each other in the dark shadows, eyes tracking dark moon gazes, partially open lips, nervous fingers and quiet breathing.

O: On this particular spring afternoon, Felix was away with friends, leaving Nikolas with Alexander who was already in a foul mood because his mother would not allow him to go into the village to see a film with his friends.

M: Minou fixes her with an exasperated look, “Just read what’s on the paper your highness.”

E: Eventually Wille refills his wine and Simon watches with satisfaction as the dark red swirls down the curve of the glass in his hand.

@grapehyasynth @piebingo @unfortunate17 @prplewille

if you want to try with the word TEAR

[prplewille]

Tagged by: @in-amor-veritas

Rules: You will be given a word. share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word. My word was TEAR

This is a little bit of a mix of scraps of things, some of which i'm not sure will ever see the light of day ijbol but here we go!!!!

T: There’s moments—days even, weeks if he’s lucky—where he feels at peace with everything: himself, his choices, and the force of the current of time pulling at his ankles and dragging him forward, forward, forward. Surely, that’s not a bad thing, right? Surely people have their ups and downs, and no one should worry about him, because he’s fine.

E: Erik had loved it as well. Sometimes, late at night in the safety of his room, Wille wonders if any part of it was because he was good at it. Truly exceptional. He wonders if his love for the family trade was because his mom was happy and proud of him, because she’d preen when she said his name, because people talked about him with an undercurrent of jealousy. He always seemed to thrive on success, on reaping the rewards. Maybe Erik liked dancing, sure, but he loved the fame.

A: As disgusting as it sounds, she sort of wanted to open the girl's mouth and lick all of it. Lick right behind her teeth, then insert herself there and feel what it was like to be ingested, chewed and swallowed, to go through every sticky bit of her throat and then end up destroyed into little pieces by her insides. Maybe, in the end, that was what happened after all.

R: Rosh complained more than once that they always got less work done when they were together, that they couldn’t possibly be efficient when all she could hear was them snickering away, but Simon never left her side, drying the dishes Wille handed her, fingers brushing every now and then.

i don't know who to tag so if you see this and feel like doing it go for it! maybe your word can be LIFE :)

[prplewille]

RUN to read this one because it's so good guys

yay!!

chapter 4 is out 👏👏👏 finally oops

[prplewille]

heartache

[prplewille]

wilmon✨ & "I'll do anything"

here’s a little university!AU that I’ve had in my head since the S1 days haha. again, not even going to pretend this is 5 sentences.

“I’ll do anything,” Simon groans, wiping down the last of the tables as Ayub laughs unhelpfully behind him. He rolls out his shoulders, sore from a long shift of carrying plates and trays. “Seriously, man, he won’t leave me alone. Every time I turn around, he’s right behind me - like take a fucking hint.”

“Is he still sitting next to you in lecture?”

“Yes,” Simon cries, throwing up his hands in frustration. He drops into a chair, watching the rhythmic motions of Ayub sweeping the floor. “Like - the room seats two hundred and there’s barely fifteen of us here - why the fuck do you want to sit right next to me?”

Ayub snorts, “I’m telling you, Simme, he’s into you.”

Simon makes a face, “Don’t start with this shit again. Please.”

“I don’t get why you hate him so much.”

Simon looks at him in deep disbelief. “Are we forgetting the fact that he disappeared during our sociology final last year and I had to present it by myself?” Simon tips his head back, groaning at the embarrassing memory. “I had to retake that class because of him - and he didn’t even fucking apologize.”

“Sara said he had a family emergency,” Ayub points out gently, “remember?”

“Yeah right, that’s just an excuse and you know it.” Simon rolls his eyes, slumping back into the chair in exhaustion, “I’d get it if like - oh I can’t miss work today or else I’m going to get fired and then I can’t pay my rent - but come on. I saw his apartment, bro - mama and papa definitely help him out. No way he’s paying for that place on his own.”

Ayub sighs, setting the broom down and emptying the dustpan in the trash. “Bro, you complain about him all the time - just tell him to get lost.”

It’s a testament to their years of friendship that Simon doesn’t cross the room and strangle him. “So now I can’t even complain?” He snaps, the slow simmer of irritation that’s been building up throughout the dinner rush finally catching up to him.

Ayub’s expression shifts then, his eyes suddenly going wide. “Uh, Simme, you might not want to - ”

Simon gets to his feet, crumpling the rag in his hand as he stalks towards the front. “He’s a fucking trust-fund baby,” he rants, moving to swipe aggressively across the counter. “You really think telling him to fuck off is going to work? Wilhelm is literally the single most insufferable human being I have ever fucking met and - ”

A loud clattering interrupts him, followed by the sound of rapidly shuffling footsteps. When Simon turns around, the first thing he sees is two empty coffee cups on their side, the contents of which are dripping out over the table he’d just finished wiping down. Then, his stomach sinks.

Wilhelm is standing in front of the door, looking adorably windswept in his expensive wool coat. His cheeks are flushed, his expression mortified. “Sorry,” his breathes, voice cracking as he scrambles for a stack of tissues, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to - ”

Thankfully, Ayub is the first speak. “Hey, man, it’s just a spill. don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll take care of it, let me just go grab a mop.”

Simon throws him a panicked look at being left alone, but Ayub only shrugs in return as he makes his way to the back.

“I need a mop,” he tells him simply, shouldering past Simon with a pat on his arm.

Simon watches him go, swallowing tightly. There’s a long moment of deep, uncomfortable silence. Finally, he forces himself to take a deep breath. “We close in four minutes, sorry,” he says, voice thin.

Wilhelm’s head is bowed, eyes trained on the floor. “Yeah,” he mumbles, “I know.”

Guilt churns in Simon’s stomach like acid. “I didn’t mean for you to hear that,” he offers then, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Wille’s tone is robotic. When his gaze finally flickers up to meet Simon’s, his eyes look like broken glass. “Sorry about the mess.” He runs an awkward hand through his hair, even as the strands tumble back into his face almost immediately “I’ll - I’ll just - “ he jabs a thumb at the door, turning to leave.

Simon’s feet carry him across the room before his mind can catch up with his actions. “Wille, wait,” he begs. “That was - I’m really sorry.”

Wille turns to look at him as he pulls the door open again, backlit by the setting sun. His eyes are dark and sad, “It’s fine, Simon.”

Simon wrings his hand, “We - we open at eleven tomorrow,” he offers nonsensically, “if you come back then - ”

The ghost of an unhappy smile flickers across Wilhelm’s face. “I wasn’t here for a sandwich,” he shoves his hands in his pockets as he leans back against the open door. “I just thought. You’re always drinking flat whites in class. And I thought - that I could, you know, bring you one and we could like - ”

Dimly, Simon thinks he’s going to be sick.

Wille looks away then, blinking rapidly like he’s fighting back tears. “Anyway,” he clears his throat, “I got the message. I’ll leave you alone now,” he steps out onto the street, shooting him a last, small smile. “Have a good night, Simon.”

Simon opens his mouth to say - what, exactly he doesn’t know. Maybe he means to apologize once more, to ask Wille to come back inside, to offer to buy him another coffee.

Instead, door swings shut between them before he can decide and Simon watches through paned glass as Wille’s late evening silhouette disappears out into the crowd.

[prplewille]

hey guys i am working on the prompts i received i'm just a slow writer these days hehehe <3

[prplewille]

helloooooooooooooooo :)))))

I have one for you

Wilmon + “The choice is yours”

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

eee!! also let's all pretend this is 5 sentences i'm too verbose for this. in my head this is them after being friends for years and tiptoeing around their feelings for each other.

"The choice is yours," he whispers into the crackling air separating their faces, pressing his forehead against Simon's.

Simon's warm breath washes over his mouth, and Wille shudders. He sees the soft hairs on Simon's arm erupting in goosebumps, and smiles. It's almost as if they're feeding this feeling into each other. Almost as if they're kissing. Almost as if—and does he even dare to think it—they're in love.

Wille can't help it, even with what he says, even if he really believes this is Simon's choice, in the end.

He brings his hand up and runs his thumb over the edges of Simon's lip—his cupid's bow, the underside of his bottom lip, the scar on the left side framing it all. After years of dreaming about it, Wille can barely believe it's finally at the tips of his fingers.

Simon takes a sharp breath in, as unstable as the hand that now caresses Wille's cheek. Then he whispers Wilhelm's name, and that's all it takes. Because it sounds as delirious as Simon's name stumbling out his own mouth when he touches himself, because it sounds like the way Wille's name has always been meant to be said. Because he loves him, and he's finally said it, and in the absence of this secret lays the answers to all of their questions.

"God, Wille. Yes, yes, please, kiss me—" he finally says, and Wille cuts the last word off by clashing their lips together in a bruising kiss, pouring every single moment he's wanted to do this and stopped himself into it.

All the want that sizzled between them, for all these years. All the late nights and early mornings, all the hugs that lingered, all the comfort they sought on each other. All the times he wanted to confess and didn't, and the one time he finally did.

He pours it into his tongue, gives it Simon like a gift, and laps at everything he's given in return. Shivers with how much there is, how it all tastes and feels exactly the same.

He feels Simon's lips stretch into a smile against his, and thinks maybe it wouldn't be so crazy to call this love.

[prplewille]

ANGEL/DEMON WILMON !!!!!!! IKTR

ok i'm finally here with a prompt (i never know what to ask but)

wilmon + "are you scared?"

<3

EEEEE MANO

im pulling out an au ive never gotten past the initial stages of planning for this one :)))) have a little Angel/Demon forbidden romance Wilmon hehehe

“Are you scared?” The way the light that passes over the liquid amber of the Demon’s gaze, viscous and shimmering, glowing golden yellow cats eyes in the pulsating lights of the club send a shiver down Simon’s spine heightened when he sees the smirk that curls the corner of Wille’s lips upwards, sharp canines poking out just that little bit, “You look lost little lamb,”

“Is that a threat?,” they stare at each other for a long moment, tension thick and suffocating before neither one of them can stay away any longer, coming together with a bruising kiss that leaves both of them a little breathless and gasping when they finally surface for air.

Wille’s fingers thread through his curls, his nails sharp over his scalp but gentle somehow, as though taking painstaking care to worship him with soft caresses as he murmurs hungry sinful things into the shell of his ear—and Simon may have lived his immortal life in heaven but there is nothing more holy than the reverent way Wilhelm knows his most inner, darkest desires.

Earth, this purgatory melting pot of creatures from all the realms, is the only place where their kind can meet and even though he knows he’s been reckless, even though he knows he’s breaking the one most important rule of them all, he’s helpless, because he’s lived all these ages and millennia and he never once felt alive until he met him.

“You look so beautiful,” Wilhelm’s voice shakes slightly and Simon can’t help the smirk that blooms on his own lips, intimately knowing how his aura affects his hotheaded, impulsive nature, “You drive me insane Simon.”

He lets Wilhelm pull his head back slightly to focus the attention of his mouth on the skin of Simon’s neck as he rocks his body into the hard, sinewy lines of the demon, his demon, humming and eyelids heavy and half closed as he finds himself lost in the churning of bodies around them and the thrum of the music shaking the walls and foundations, the spinning kaleidoscope of lights like the triumph of the archangels—blinding and mighty.

……

Eeeeeeee maybe one day I’ll actually write more for this idea

[prplewille]

ok so i've posted this once and backtracked but you know what i miss writing wilmon and i want to join the five sentence thing going around!! if anyone wants to send me a prompt that would be awesomeness :)

[prplewille]

“We need more complex female characters”

Some of you couldn’t handle her

[prplewille]

a tiny little peek into all the things me and veri have talked about their future!!! that last bit killed me honestly why are you so talented!!!!!!! love this love them love the plans we have for them too

hey! so nice to see you here and doing prompts 💜 if you’re still doing them, I was thinking Wilmon + ‘you can say that we are nothing, but you know the truth’ 😌😌😌 please!!

Haha love getting some Chappell Roan lyrics 🤭 esp considering my fic collab with @prplewille

So bc this song will forever be linked to that wilmon in my head have a little snippet of future Simon (believe it or not Mano and I know far too much about their futures and have spoken extensively about it)

((for those of you who haven’t read it this is basically a au where wilmon broke up after Erik died (much later than in the canon) but remained best friends. Simon spent years in love with Wille but knew it would never work between them and finally tried to move on. And then at Simon’s wedding Wille realized he had also been in love with him all these years and was losing him and kissed him….on his wedding which didn’t go over well so. Yeahhh))

…..

“You can say that we are nothing, but you know the truth,” Wille’s voice is desperate and Simon hates how it makes his chest constrict when he has no right saying this to him on his wedding day of all days, hates the way there’s that small part of him he refuses to acknowledge that he’s right.

4 Years Later

Simon sometimes finds himself playing the memory in his mind, usually on nights where he can’t sleep while lying next to Émile in their apartment in Paris — especially now that the news of him stepping down from his role as Crown Prince has recently come out.

It’s been enough time now that it doesn’t ache as much, nor does it make him as angry—no enough time has passed that he can remember it without feeling like he’s going splinter apart into a thousand different directions.

He wonders, staring upwards at the lights from cars passing over the ceiling, if Wille ever does the same, wonders if he still believes his own words from that night when he had begged Simon to destroy his own life for the slightest chance that they could be happy together despite the realities of their lives.

But he also wonders how Wilhelm is dealing with it all and how he finally came to the decision when he knows better than most how difficult that would have been for him—Simon wishes he could talk to him about it and tell him how proud he is that he finally can live the way he wants.

And sometimes he wonders if Wille misses him as much as he misses Wille, if all the complicated and painful parts of their history both the good and the bad sit in his chest the same way they sit in Simon’s, and secretly in the quietest parts of himself sometimes he dares to wonder if Wille still loves him, if it still echoes there in his heart like it does in Simon’s.

[prplewille]

Invitations

[prplewille]

Wilmon + He would never get enough of this.

💜

heads up this is kinda nsfw

also I was gonna make it fun spicy but then it turned into a scene before the lake scene and it turned sad spicy.

….

He would never get enough of this.

What was supposed to be a quick stop by Wille’s room had taken only a glance between them, a touch to his lower back, a whisper in hushed ear until they had fallen into each other like this.

Wille kisses like he’s starving and Simon is powerless in the wake of it, because he too knows that this is the last time they can be like this, kiss like this, touch each other like this and he needs to remember the taste of it, the way it burns through him like wildfire that nothing else can satiate.

“Simon—“ Wille gasps from behind him, pressing burning kisses down the arch of his neck as Simon grips at him, twisting his upper body and reaching for whatever part of him he can find not knowing where their respective bodies begin or end as it’s all turned into a liquid molten haze.

There’s tears in his eyes when he comes, too quickly and it’s unfair because he wanted this to last longer, but Wille is taking his chin in his hand to turn Simon’s face toward him stretched over him and kissing him deeply in a way that echoes the things that Simon feels but can’t say aloud.

Their lips linger, dragging against slick skin, neither one seeming willing to pull away, Simon behind him to thread his fingers through Wille’s damp hair, taking this small selfish thing for himself to remember this first love by—this final kiss.

[prplewille]

young royals rewatch: season 3, episode 6

I want to be with you, Simon. Are you sure you're over me? What the hell do you think?

[prplewille]

hii! i’ve got a sentence for you to add 5 more onto… if you please

wilmon + “Don’t say my name like that.”

Sorry in advance 😭

“Don’t say my name like that.”

Even when he’s angry, Wille can’t help think that Simon is the most beautiful person he’s ever met. Raising his eyes to meet Simon’s hard gaze, he sees the way it seems to vibrate out of him, the furrow in his brow that Wille wants to kiss the away along with the tension in his neck and jaw.

But that would be to ignore the stretch of time and distance between the people they once were and the people they are now, something he had momentarily forgotten when he called to him too gently, too hungry, too honest.

Simon turns away from him on the mattress, pushing himself up and grabbing for his clothes that are strewn on the floor to silently getting dressed, a ghost on the edge of his bed.

Wille stares at his back, the expanse of bare skin he had only just pressed his lips and fingers into and mourns, and wishes and wants.

……

Istg one of these prompts will be cute sorry. Also technically this would fit perfectly into a specific scene I had planned for divorce fic…..

[prplewille]

Wilmon + "I am going to sleep on the couch tonight"

💜

So my brain immediately goes to angst when I see something like this but in an attempt to challenge myself to write things I normally don’t have something not angsty at all 🤭 kinda inspired by my recent bout of COVID

…….

“I’m going to sleep on the couch tonight,” Simon says looking exhausted, arms full of blanket and pillow, “I don’t want you to get sick too.”

Wille frowns, gently taking him by the arm and pressing a hand to his forehead, his skin his burning and the dizzy sheen in his eyes paired with the shivering is concerning, “Don’t worry about me love,” Wilhelm soothes, “I‘ll be fine—it’s you who needs to be comfortable.”

After a small noise of protest Wille manages to guide his husband to the bed and gets him settled, covering him with blankets and making sure he’s comfortable before going to get the essentials—tissues, tea, Alvedon and the iPad from the living room in case he wants to watch something.

When he returns Simon is sitting up against the propped up pillows, watching him as he arranges everything, gives him the medicine and waits for him to take a few sips of tea, his voice is scratchy when he sets the mug down and looks up at him with a frown, “You’re going to get sick.”

Wille crawls into the bed from the other side, on his side, meeting his husbands gaze who hesitates as he shuffles closer, “I don’t care, in sickness and in health don’t you remember?” Wille murmurs and Simon seems to melt when he pushes back the damp curls at his forehead, eyes fluttering shut as a soft sigh escaping his lips.

Wille pulls him into his arms and feels the way he’s radiating heat, kissing his burning temple as the tension seems to slowly ease out of his husbands body and soon all he hears as the soft sounds of sleep.

….

Love how all of these are just insane run on sentences. Also Wille most definitely got super sick after this but he didn’t mind.