#wilhelm needs a hug so bad
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wille :(
I originally wrote this for day 7 (Erik) of Wille's month but ended up binning it and I'm much happier with the one I ended up posting..
bUt, I started over because I was like "hmm Idk this might be too OOC", then i remembered that Wille kicked over instruments in the music room, trashed his birthday presents, and literally held a g*n up to August's face, so I thought "ok maybe not too OOC".
now this is just a very sad drabble of what could be a missing moment starting right after s3e5 ends (but what i hope is not actually a missing moment because it is Very Sad).
read below the cut if you're interested... sorry... (cw: wille is very upset and throws some stuff)
“My mamá’s here,” Simon said softly. As he collected his things and moved towards the door, Wille stood from the bed. He watched Simon take a deep breath, shoulders rising then falling into a slump. One step through the door frame and Wille followed. How could he not? If Simon was really leaving, he had to–
Simon turned back and met Wille’s eye, then looked away. He gave a slight shake of his head. Wille froze in his spot. Simon didn’t turn back again. The click of the door closing was deafening in his quiet bedroom.
Thinking back, Wille couldn’t remember how long he stood there. He also couldn’t remember how he ended up in Erik’s room, but he did. Somehow, he came back into his body and found himself standing, barefoot and teary-eyed in his brother’s room. He hadn’t been in there in months. Everything still looked exactly the same. The same perfectly made bed, the same perfectly crisp military jacket, the same perfectly organized desk. Everything exactly the same except now Wille saw it in a new light. It was all too perfect to be real. There were secrets in the closet, tucked under the mattress, buried in the curtains. He thought back to the phone call, the way his father had praised Erik, had said he didn’t have that same darkness. He thought back to the dinner, the way his mother had only talked about Erik, how she couldn’t even look at him. He thought, too, back to all those times he’d heard Erik laugh at August’s offensive jokes.
Everything in the fucking world was fake, even Erik. The knowledge that he’d suffered so much trying to live up to his brother’s perfect standard. All the disapproving looks from Mamma, the ‘stop being so selfish’ from Erik. His brother had told him he could trust August and that was a lie. He’d said to listen to the third years and that was a death wish. He was doubting everything now. Would Erik have even cared about the video? Would he have sided with Mamma? He knew he was just working himself up; too exhausted, too many emotions after such an awful day, but he couldn’t stop himself.
Wille stepped forward and angrily ripped back the sheets of the bed, sending pillows flying. He pushed over the desk chair. He grabbed a portrait of some old noble off the wall and chucked it. He kicked at the wall, tore at the curtains. He sobbed and yelled and knocked a picture frame off the desk. Tiny shards of glass went skittering across the room. He grabbed the stupid frog prince ceramic from Erik's desk. He raised it above his head, gearing up to smash it on the ground.
When he looked up, he met his own eyes in the mirror. Eyes swollen, face red and streaked with tears, he tried to look away but couldn’t. Everywhere else there were pictures of him, or him and Erik, as children. He and Wille, practically babies, crawling on a fence somewhere outside. Him, climbing on a playground, holding a toy. He and Wille, arms around each other, laughing.
Wille wanted to punch the mirror. He wanted to feel it shatter under his hands and to send the pictures falling to the ground. He wanted to scream. He wanted his fucking brother back. He wanted to ask Erik about the initiation, about the video, about the truth.
He couldn’t have those things though, and would never get them.
He put the frog prince back on the desk.
Slowly, he picked his way across the floor.
Some hours later in the early-early morning, a housekeeper found him there, surrounded by broken glass, curled up in Erik’s bed, asleep on top of the messy sheets.
#just wanted to share for my fellow pain lovers#an unofficial post#i just... yeah#yr drabbles#wilhelm young royals#wilhelm needs a hug so bad
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LONG POST AHEAD.
So I’m watching episode 5 of season 3, aka Wille’s bad bitch scene. And I just… don’t understand what Simon does afterwards.
He finally gets a front row seat to the shit Wille’s had to deal with his whole life. Sees how little he’s loved and valued. How DESPERATELY he wants his parents to care and he just… breaks up with him?
Wilhelm has had a horrible fucking day (life really). Dealing with August, the launch of his project, his parents being weird and then on good of all of that he’s still dealing with the fact his brother, his IDOL, could’ve been homophobic…
He explodes, because he’s tired of the fake pleasantries, he’s tired of the comparisons to his brother, even on his fucking birthday.
How could Simon witness that, see Wille’s hurt, his PAIN and add to it?!?!?
I understand not wanting to be in that life. I understand not wanting to deal with the fakeness that being involved with the monarchy entails but all Wille needed was comfort. Maybe a hug. They could’ve had the conversation later.
I’m not saying Simon needed to fix anything but like after all he saw, he really said ‘Ah this is the perfect time to tell Wille that I don’t want to do this anymore.”
I was just so confused at the timing… cause it’s out of character for Simon to ADD hurt.
Idk if that makes sense but yea… these are my thoughtssss

#young royals#yr3#prince wilhelm#simon eriksson#wilhelm x simon#simon x wilhelm#wilhelm young royals#simon young royals#wilmon#Wilmon young royals#kwonzoshi#kwonzoshi watches
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Hammelburg University Chapter 1 (Hogan's Heroes College AU)
(My first Hogan's Heroes fic 🥳 Nothing too deep or revolutionary, just wanted to have some silly fun! This chapter is mostly just introductions and setup before we really get started hehe~)
For all they said about Germany, they sure had nice labs. The H.U. laboratory spaces were nothing like the little rooms with chipped white-painted tables and a few beakers and microscopes back in Indiana community college. Real equipment walled the whole place and even sat as decoration if the spectrometer on the professor's desk was anything to go off of. Heck, that was the most advanced spectrometer Andrew had ever seen, not that he'd ever really seen one in person before. But if he had, he was sure it wouldn't be as fancy as that. Too bad they wouldn't need it for this class.
This class. At the thought, he gulped, nerves shooting back up, but they were quickly interrupted by the scrape of the chair at his side. Oh boy, a neighbor! Lab partner! Little guy. Short dark hair and dark eyes. Neatly kept. All his pencils were lined up and his textbook looked positively immaculate. Must be smart.
"Some class this is gonna be, huh? I'm a little scared, to be honest."
"Don't tell me you took this class as an elective." Snippy as the words, lightly accented, could have been, they were delivered with humor and a smug little smile that had Andrew smiling back.
"No way! I'm a Chem major. I have to take stuff like this the whole time. I had my choice for this slot, so I thought 'why not biochem?' It's the kind I know the least about. What about you?"
"For my major, too, though I had no choice in the matter. All the medical majors need a good foundation."
"Medical? Wow, are you going to be a doctor?"
"In a sense," the little guy smiled again, this one devoid of humor in lieu of something sweeter and more idealistic, "Veterinary Science."
"Ooh, that's great! My aunt had a great vet when her dog got sick- said it made all the difference in the world. Gave him five stars on Yelp and everything! Bet you'll get five stars too one day."
"There's just one little hurdle to get past."
"What's that?"
"I still faint at the sight of blood."
~
The classroom was pretty standard. Close enough to what they had back in the States and clearly set up for the debates that Robert so anxiously looked forward to. Big part of why he was a law student, after all. Not one, but two podiums stood eyeing down the sea of chairs waiting for their chance to see their bearers take the stage, verbally and psychologically duking it out.
As it stood, first class was always for introductions. Assessing the strengths and weaknesses of all the other students. A cursory glance around the already-filled seats found Robert a fun one, urged his feet forward to the seat he’d claim for the semester’s duration.
Eager look. Short, dark hair prematurely thinning a little bit. Pity. Black hair, blue eyes, proud features made infinitely more haughty by, of all things, a monocle. Slight upturn in the nose working with the tiny lens and its accompanying squint to paint the picture of one attending a prestigious university on daddy’s money. Oh, yes, Robert liked the looks of this one.
“Lemme guess— long line of lawyers?”
The young man looked startled, tilted his head with puzzlement as he fixed Rob with a good straight-on look for the first time, taking in his mild, quizzical smile and cheekily raised brows before raising his own.
“How did you know?”
Nailed it. His voice managed to come across simultaneously confident and wavering. Money. German accent, too— perhaps a Hammelburg native? No, not with clothes that nice. That turtleneck was practically hand-tailored the way it hugged his lean figure. Probably Berlin.
“All the best lawyers go here,” Robert pointed out, “And who better to usher in the next generation than the guys who already made their millions? Robert Hogan, by the way. Friends just call me Hogan.”
“Wilhelm Klink.” The young man opposite Robert straightened. Paused. One moment, two. A wide smile. “Friends just call me Klink.”
“Sure they do,” Rob smiled back, giving a little shake of his head, “The gang back in Berlin?”
Repeat performance. “How did you know?”
“I’m psychic. Would you like me to read your palm next?”
~
“Need some help with that?”
Peeling his eyes from the teetering textbook-student union tray-starbucks spread between both arms, Kinch was met with the sight of a guy in a long blue coat and, curiously, sporting a watch on each wrist. Cocking an eyebrow, he smiled coolly.
“Sure, if you don’t mind grabbing the starbucks.”
“Heading to a table?”
Judging by the accent, the timepiece connoisseur was a bloke from England. Hammelburg University boasted a surprising number of international students. Students like Kinch himself, not that Mister Fish and Chips had as much to prove.
“Yeah,” Kinch nodded, “Any by the wall?”
“Your wish is my command.” Waving a hand, the brit guide-dogged Kinch to the edge of the student union, spilling not a drop of his starbucks even as he swept all the trash and napkins off the table with a flourish, holding up a finger. “But for a price. I need the outlet, too.”
“Be my guest.”
“Good thing I’ve got an hour here. My phone’s almost dead,” he remarked as he plugged in.
“Me too,” Kinch told him, “I don’t suppose you’re in Econ 1?”
Those big blue eyes widened alongside the grin beneath them. “Well, how do you like that? Have you bought your textbook already? If so, have I got a proposition for you. Peter Newkirk, by the way.”
“The artist formerly known as James Kinchloe.”
It was Peter’s turn to cock an eyebrow at that.
“Everyone just calls me Kinch,” the aformentioned ‘artist’ added with a shrug and a sip of his German starbucks, “Now I don’t suppose your proposition has anything to do with sharing a textbook, does it?”
“I like to think of it more like ‘joint study sessions’. A little symbiotic relationship, if you will.”
Kinch grinned. “Save that for biology— you’ve already got yourself a deal.”
“Thank you,” Peter rested a hand over his heart, “For saving me from a life of crime downloading illegal PDFs. That’s the gateway, they always say.”
“I thought that was weed.”
“Yeah, well, I already tried that and I didn’t like it very much.”
“Really? You?”
“Yeah, don’t like the smell much and it made me a little too— Oi, wait, what’s that supposed to mean?”
~
“What are you looking at?”
“Your ring, of course. Everything else you have is the same as mine.”
“What about it? It’s a family crest!”
“Quite ostentatious.”
“Like your sweater isn’t designer!”
“I never said it wasn’t. You might notice that it is only solid grey, though.”
The young man frowned. Glanced down and then back up with those suspiciously narrowed brown eyes. Said nothing, of course.
Albert tried again, extending an olive branch he didn’t particularly mind the acceptance status of. “Prosecution?”
This time, a tight smile. “Of course.”
“Then we have that in common. Albert.”
Albert extended a hand, his seatmate took it. “Wolfgang.”
“And what are those two in front of us doing? It looks like…a palm reading?”
“Would you two knock that off?” Wolfgang hissed at the students seated at the desk directly in front of them, knocking their joined hands apart with his.
The guy in the leather jacket, the one who’d been tracing a finger over the lines of the other’s in a clear display of bullshit, shrugged and fixed Wolfgang with a devil-may-care smile.
“Why, you wanted your turn?”
Had this been a cartoon, Wolfgang would surely have had one of those little veins drawn upon his forehead. “The professor just walked in!”
“Ah,” Leather Jacket nodded, tilting his head in mock thought, “You’re right. I should do him next— might get me some extra credit.”
Snickering to himself, Albert gave one final glance between Wolfgang and Leather Jacket and shook his head. Wouldn’t this be a fun semester?
~
The paths between buildings—towering, old, and stone—were immaculately paved and clean. Not a wad of gum or piece of trash in sight, at least not where Robert and Wilhelm exited their class. Only smooth, evenly spaced light grey stones to greet his boots with each tap toward the student union. They’d even put in flower beds along the way, filled with bright blue cornflowers of all things. Ugh. Robert shook his head before glancing back Wilhelm’s way.
“Hey, how about an after-class starbucks? My treat.”
“But you came in with a starbucks,” Wilhelm protested.
Robert shrugged. “Yeah, but the barista was so hot, I’m kinda hoping she’s still working. Campus sure knows how to make their money.”
“She was… that pretty, huh?”
“Gorgeous. Enough to give anyone a caffeine addiction.”
“Alright, if you really want to spend your money on me, who am I to say no? Lead the way,” Wilhelm replied, sweeping a hand toward the student union.
“And lemme guess, your usual’s a venti with a lot of add-in shit?”
“Hazelnut syrup is not shit!”
“Sure, man,” Robert smirked, sticking his hands in his jacket pockets, “Sure.”
He watched Wilhelm stew in his thoughts— whatever those were— all the way up that neat trail and between the great glass union doors. All up those old wooden steps, heavy and sturdy beneath the weight of every student passing through them. Starbucks awaited at beyond the stairwell’s open arms. Those and the long-ass line winding out the doors and nearly out to the study tables.
“Long line.”
“I see that.”
“If you wanna pass the time, we could finish your palm reading,” Robert offered, extending his hand.
Squinting down at it, then back up into his eyes, Wilhelm said, “Forget it” and promptly pulled out his phone. iPhone 16. Tch. Leaning over his shoulder when they shuffled forward in line, Robert watched a tiktok alongside him. One of an older guy playing a classical violin.
“He’s good,” he remarked with a nod down to the screen, “You like the violin?”
Pulling his phone away, turning it off and sliding it into his pocket, all while maintaining firm eye contact, Wilhelm broke into a proud grin. “Like it? I play it. I’m a music minor.”
“Oh, yeah? Do you have any videos of yourself playing?”
What followed was an entire caffeine-and-sex-driven shuffle into corporate coffee purgatory soundtracked by the pained cries of a tortured violin cradled beneath the loving grip of Wilhelm, who for the first time Robert wondered at the possibility of deafness.
“So? What do you think?”
“I think you’re next to order,” Robert deflected, scooting him closer to the counter, where a second, different hot barista stood, “Go get ‘em, tiger.”
“Wait,” Wilhelm floundered, turning back, “What do I say?”
“Venti with three pumps of extra shit, remember?”
“One venti with three pumps of extra sh- Hmph!” Wilhelm waved a hand. “Who needs you?”
“Her, if I’m lucky,” Robert shot back with a smile and a nod to Hot Barista Two, whose name tag read Hilda, “One grande Americano…”
“For the grande Americano?” Wilhelm mocked, arms crossed tight along his turtleneck.
“Hey, I like that! Mind if I steal it?”
Hilda giggled, asking Wilhelm to repeat his order one more time before taking their pay and waving them off.
“What, do you follow all those ‘how do you open’ accounts on twitter?”
“Stick with your violin videos, that’s all weird incel shit.”
“Weird incel sh— whoa!”
Before the two of them could even bustle past the line and find a table, someone had bumped into Wilhelm, sending a bit of his venti hazelnut mocha splattering onto his loafers.
“Dummkopf! These are expensive,” he whined, waving a pitiful hand over them instead of acting.
Handing him a napkin, Robert got a good look at the guy who’d crashed into them. Big guy, tall and broad-shouldered. Just broad in general. Large hands held at his sides, he peered down with wide blue eyes at Wilhelm’s wealthy angst.
“I was not trying to! I swear I just wanted to go find a table. I did not even see you! I saw nothing! I did not even see my own feet.”
“Yeah, I bet. You’re fine. Wanna come sit with us?”
“Robert,” Wilhelm was still whining, “Why?”
“Answered your own question, buddy,” Robert responded, slinging an arm around him and standing him back up, marching their little troupe of three over to the array of tables, all of which seemed to be occupied by study groups, couples, and the like.
“’ey, Schultzie, looking for a table?”
The voice, eager and British, belonged to a guy in blue who was wearing two watches for some reason. Sat across from him was a guy about the same age, handsome and dark-skinned, clad in a jacket and beanie, and seemingly working on a mustache.
“Friends of yours?”
“Yes,” the big guy replied with a smile, “From my Econ class!”
“Look at us,” Robert said, arms still around both German students as he marched them over, “Day One and already a big happy family.”
#60s television#hogan's heroes#hogans heroes#hogan's heroes fanfiction#colonel hogan#colonel klink#robert hogan#wilhelm klink#andrew carter#louis lebeau#james kinchloe#peter newkirk#albert burkhalter#wolfgang hochstetter#hans schultz#college au#hogan's heroes college au
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Fic based on this post where slightly aged up Simon and Wilhelm are roommates who are on a rowing team. They decide to join a gym for rich people that has a state of the art rowing machines but Simon cant afford the membership. There is a family membership but rules say family memberships are only for family...Not rommates. So fake dating ensues. The Hillerska rowing boys all hang out at the gym. Nils realizes that Simon and Wilhelm aren't really together but *are* are actually falling in love and gives Wille bad advice..."come on Wille, he can't even afford a solo membership" Felice, Rosh and Ayub are on hand to give advice. Rosh is unimpressed because "rowing is not a sport" and "you can get fit for free. You dont need to go to impress rich boy". Ft locker room talks, shirtless longing stares, and so so much sweatiness. Bonus points for a sweaty longing hug after a rowing competition.
Who wants to make it happen?
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Wille’s day
Day 28th: birthday @youngroyals-events
Wille’s 18th birthday is, all things considered, great.
It hadn’t looked too good at first. Not with how the meetings had gone with the royal court, the whole ordeal of actually going through with stepping down something the court still couldn’t grasp. Now that it’s all done, Wille can see the humour in the court threatening to replace him with August for so long, only to push back when Wille actually wanted August to replace him.
Read on ao3 or below.
Wille’s 18th birthday is, all things considered, great.
It hadn’t looked too good at first. Not with how the meetings had gone with the royal court, the whole ordeal of actually going through with stepping down something the court still couldn’t grasp. Now that it’s all done, Wille can see the humour in the court threatening to replace him with August for so long, only to push back when Wille actually wanted August to replace him.
Then the media had stepped in. When Erik had turned 18, the ball for his birthday, the first Erik day in his honour, had been announced months before. The elite youth of Sweden an neighbouring royal families had received gold-embossed invitations —as well as some random normal kids invited to make the monarchy look good and inclusive. This year, for Wille’s 18th birthday and thus the first official Wilhelm’s day, no one had been invited. The youth hadn’t received any invitations. The news hadn’t been informed of any celebration.
On May 28th, 2022, Crown Prince Wilhelm had stepped down from the line of succession.
He had done it live, choosing to step down with a speech that represented him. Wille knows that the public has a weird relationship with him. Over the years, he has had many personas given to him.
Shy kid.
Bad boy.
Gay prince.
Lazy replacement.
It had been his last chance to go out with some grace, to try and control the narrative around his person. Only time will tell if he will have been successful.
Wille is proud of himself though, and that has to count for something. A bit more than a year ago now, he had told Simon that he couldn't answer comments on social media, that this is just the way things work. People will say things and they can only let it slide, let the court control the narrative. It’s still true but Wille won’t have the court to back him up as much now. Hence why he decided to be honest. For his own sake.
He wanted, needed, to step down on his own terms. And he did it this morning, after carefully crafting what he would say. He didn’t follow it all, straying when an idea passed in his mind. But still, the essence of his speech had been the same as planned.
Wille is proud of himself.
And he isn’t the only one. His mamma had hugged him afterwards, proudly looking at him even if her smile hadn’t managed to lose all of the tension she constantly carries around. His dad had clapped his back, nodding at him. Felice had thrown her arms around his shoulders, squealing loudly in his ear. Sara had hugged him tightly, swaying him from side to side.
And Simon.
Simon had looked at Wille, his nose scrunching from how hard he had been smiling. He had hugged Wille last, but he hadn’t let him go afterwards. For the rest of the day, he had been at Wille’s side, a hand on his back or tangled with Wille’s. A smile pressed to his cheeks and sweet words whispered in his ears.
Until a few minutes ago.
Wille sits on his bed, staring at the door of his bedroom, waiting for Simon to come back. He isn’t sure what Simon has gone away to do, only that he had been told that he must stay seated until he came back and that it wouldn’t take too long. It’s been five minutes already, and Wille has concluded that it has been too long. Still, he will be good for Simon and will wait for him to come back.
Simon hasn’t been here very often in the last year. Wille neither, to be fair. They had spent the summer after their first year together, either staying at the Erikssons’ or travelling around in Sara’s car. And then, magically, Hillerska had opened again, and Wille had moved back.
They have spent the last few months tangled up together at Simon’s or in Wille’s dorm room. They have spent their time learning about each other, actually taking the time to breath and date each other in a way they never had before. Hillerska is good, now. Or better, at least. It’s not perfect, but the rules have changed and the atmosphere is lighter, and new day-students have been accepted. Most importantly, Wille hasn’t been shipped off to Switzerland and Simon hasn’t moved to Gothenburg.
The door startles Wille as Simon pushes it open. He comes back into the room, socked feet dragging on the floor. He is wearing a green knitted sweater, one that Wille knows gives him sweater paws. He can’t see his hands right now though, both of them behind Simon’s back.
“What have you got?” Wille asks, standing up from the bed.
“Nuh-uh. Sit back down.”
Wille sighs, forcing his lips in a pout, and watches as Simon slowly makes his way to him. He stops right in front of Wille, close enough that his feet find themselves between Wille’s on the floor. Wille’s hands make their way to Simon’s thighs, resting over the soft material of his sweatpants Simon stole from his closet.
“Hi,” Simon whispers, his smile lighting up the room. At least it feels like it, even if Wille knows it’s technically impossible. But it’s so bright and kind and when he’s smiling down like that at Wille, how could it not feel like he is sunshine personified?
“Hey.”
“I know I couldn’t be here this morning when you woke up… but in a way, this right now somehow feels like the beginning of a new day for you? Because you woke up as Crown Prince and you are going to bed as Wille only.” Simon bites his lip, seemingly nervous, before nodding. He brings his hand in front of him, holding a cinnamon bun with an unlit candle sitting on top.
“I couldn’t find a lighter, I was sure I had one packed. Sorry,” he chuckles lightly, and Wille can’t help but laugh with him. “So, this is a celebration of not only you’re birthday, but also your first end of the day as simply you.”
Somehow, this is what makes Wille tear up for the first time today. The fact that Simon is so sweet, is carrying a tradition with him —never mind the fact that it is a tradition he’s done with his own family for years, which makes it all the sweeter. The fact that he thought that Wille, as a person, as simply Wille, deserves to be celebrated.
When Simon is done singing him a happy birthday, holding the last note a little longer than the rest, tears are streaming down Wille’s face. He doesn’t wipe them away though. His hands are of better use trailing up Simon’s body and tugging until he has a lap full of his boyfriend.
Simon puts the bun on the nightstand next to them and brings his hand up to Wille’s face, his thumbs gently drying the tears.
“Happy birthday, Wille.”
Wille smiles at him, all lopsided and salty from the rest of his tears. “I love you.”
“I love you,” Simon says back, lips already moving against Wille’s.
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-Reid dying of old age and for an unknown reason becomes a voice in the head of child Heinkel-
(Inspired by sword god commentary fic by J2X3)
• Heinkel doesn't want to seem insane, so he doesn't tell anyone about the voice that appeared in his head. But those around him notice that something is off because sometimes Heinkel just loses focus and gets lost in thought very noticeably
• Reid comments on everything and everyone in his usual manner
• When Reid first appeared, Heinkel tried to ignore the problem, hoping it would go away. Soon, he had to ask the voice to be quieter for the Dragon's sake, his head is already hurt!
• Reid is indignant because his Sword is gathering dust somewhere
• One day Heinkel unconsciously cursed, having learned it from Reid. He got a scolding and in the future, tried to make sure his behavior didn't change too much because of Reid
• During training, Reid would laugh and give him good and bad advice mixed together for giggles
• When Reinhard is born, Reid gradually starts calling him "our brat." He immediately senses that the child will be terrifyingly strong
• Heinkel is never alone, and that saves him
• When Luanna falls asleep, Reid takes control of Heinkel's body (something he had never done before) to cut her illness. But Heinkel's body immediately collapsed. (For some magical reasons which aren't really important, Reid's soul exists peacefully and doesn't harm Heinkel's body until Reid tries to become its core. If he tries, Heinkel's soul is displaced and, combined with the strain from an unsuitable, too-powerful soul, the body just can't handle it). It will take them several years to solve this problem (but even then, it will still lead to Heinkel spending some time in a coma LOL)
• Heinkel didn't refuse to fight the Whale because Reid was with him (not that he could help with anything besides guiding through the fog, but-). Reid naturally says that it's safer for Heinkel to go alone. Because then he won't have to cover for anyone, you idiot, and if, for some reason, he suddenly feels the need to run away, he won't have to worry about anyone but himself. Theresia thinks it's an elaborate form of suicide. Heinkel gets knocked out and she goes instead of him
• Theresia still dies. Wilhelm still leaves
• Before and after Theresia's death, Heinkel copes by training wia pushing himself to exhaustion. He loses weight, get eyebags and just generally tired all the time. One day, Reinhard manages to count his ribs and heroically decides to fatten up his poor father. He receives several divine protections for this. Heinkel couldn't eat much then, but he thanked and hugged his son for a long time
• Heinkel coughs up blood from time to time (because of the harsh but subtle training of shifting his soul so that Reid can briefly become the core and cut the damn disease). He thinks nobody knows. Reinhard knows.
• The events of OATIL still happen, but Heinkel almost kills the assassins (because with Reid in his head, he never forgets to bring his sword)
• Heinkel secretly goes to Garitch to get healed. Garitch says that he's doing something very unhealthy and should stop. Heinkel, of course, doesn't stop
Idk fun
It's 4 a.m. what am I doing-
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For Simon Month 2024 Day 22: Labor Day
Sara goes into labor, naturally, on Labor Day. Simon is about to be an uncle, and Wilhelm is Sara's distracting pediatric nurse.
Thanks to @youngroyals-events as always for hosting <3
Read on ao3 or below the cut
Sara looked pale when Simon rushed into the hospital room. He hastily threw his backpack on the nearest chair and went right to her side.
“I’m sorry it took me so long, the bus was delayed because of the parade,” he panted. “How are you?”
“I need to get this fucking baby out of me, is how I am,” she exhaled sharply, wincing as another contraction hit. Simon squeezed her hand and circled the bed to hug Linda.
“She’s certainly been a trooper. She even took the train from work to the hospital! Can you imagine?” Linda looked at her daughter with awe in her eyes.
“I’m guessing Lukas is on his way?” Simon asked.
“No, Simon, Lukas is not coming to witness the birth of his first child.” Simon rolled his eyes internally, but he was happy to bear the brunt of Sara’s pain if it meant getting them all through this.
He had just been at the Labor Day parade with Ayub when he got the call. They had been getting signatures for a petition to increase the budget for Swedish language tutors in public schools, and things had been going really well. The moment he got the news, he rushed to the nearest bus stop and high-tailed it to the hospital. It wasn’t Sara’s first choice, or even second choice; she had a doula and a whole plan, but apparently when your water breaks over a week early, the best laid plans go flying out the window.
There were three sharp knocks on the door, and two people dressed in blue scrubs walked in. “Sara Eriksson?” A middle aged woman greeted, walking over to the hospital bed. “My name is Katya, and this is Wilhelm. I’m your nurse midwife, and I'll be delivering your baby. Wilhelm here is your assigned pediatric nurse. His job is to monitor your and the baby’s vitals, and make sure everyone is healthy. Things are looking great so far,” she smiled. Sara looked skeptical, but nevertheless she nodded at them in greeting.
The male nurse paced right towards Simon. “Sorry, if you don’t mind, I have to be here next to the screen.” He half-smiled at Simon, and he thought Wilhelm had quite a nice face. He wondered how common it was for male nurses to work in labor and delivery, and immediately chastised himself. Of course there were male nurses in every specialty.
Brushing past Simon, Wilhelm looked down at his jean jacket. “I like your pins.” He smiled again, and for the briefest moment Simon swore he saw something flash in his eyes. Wilhelm was looking right at his enamel pride flag. One of Simon’s students had given it to him his first year teaching, and to this day it was one of his most prized possessions.
“Thanks. Labor Day, you know.” Simon turned to show Wille his panel of other buttons.
“Nice,” Wille nodded. “I’ve always wanted to go.”
“You’ve never been? Is the medical profession void of any social causes to fight for?” He questioned teasingly.
“The medical profession doesn’t get national holidays. Babies get born every day of the year, you know.” He looked at Simon with matched sarcasm, and Simon’s stomach flipped instantly. Wilhelm turned towards the screen and started typing. Simon thought to himself on a scale of one to an extremely bad person, how awful it was to flirt with his sister’s nurse while she was actively having her baby. He landed somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. Someone had to keep the group spirits up.
Sara’s contractions were getting more and more intense, and the midwife informed Simon and Linda she should only have one person with her. Simon was more than relieved to be dismissed. He grabbed onto Sara’s hand and squeezed it. “You’re going to do great,” he reassured her. It wasn’t often she welcomed his physical comfort, but she had a vice grip on his hand and stared at him wide-eyed.
“You’re not really leaving, are you?” She asked.
“I’ll be right outside.” He squeezed her hand again. Wille turned and smiled as Simon left.
–
It was one of the hardest things Simon had ever not-witnessed. Sara was grunting and crying, obviously distressed, and he knew there wasn’t anything he could do to help. It didn’t get much better when Lukas got there, panting and sweaty and on the verge of the rest of his life. Simon had heard horror stories of parents being in labor for an entire day. His Mamá never let him forget that for his own birth, she didn’t have enough time to get an epidural and just had to grit her teeth and bear it.
He felt selfish, but Simon’s mind kept wandering to Wille. As his palms sweat against his jeans, Simon kept thinking about how this man did this every day. He witnessed people endure the worst pain in their lives, had probably dealt with all kinds of situations and worst case scenarios, and did it all with a smile on his face and a sense of humor. And people said that teaching was a difficult job.
Before long, Simon heard some of the worst crying subside, only to be replaced by a new kind of crying. It was high pitched, and much louder, and holy shit holy shit holy shit, he realized that was the moment. He was an uncle. Tears sprang to his eyes. It still felt surreal that Sara was starting a family of her own, and for the rest of his life he’d have her kids to take to Rosh’s games, or on playdates with Ayub’s two menaces, or even to take to Labor Day parades.
All of a sudden the door slammed open and Wilhelm was standing in front of him purposefully. “You want to meet them?” He asked, beckoning his head back into the room.
“Holy shit, yes,” Simon said, nearly tripping over his own feet.
Sara held the baby on her chest, a sated and peaceful expression on her face. Lukas stood next to her, caressing the top of her head and cooing at the bundle in his wife's arms. Sara looked up at Simon and smiled, ever so slightly tilting the newborn in his direction.
“Alma, meet Uncle Simon,” she breathed.
“Hi, little Alma,” Simon said. She was covered in all kinds of fluids, her eyes screwed shut, but she was undeniably precious. He could see the beginnings of both of her parents features on her face. Sara’s mouth, Lukas’s nose, Linda’s hair. She was spectacular.
He stepped back to let his Mamá come closer, coincidentally moving towards the nurse’s station. “She’s so calm,” Simon murmured to no one in particular.
“It's the oxytocin. Some powerful stuff,” Wilhelm commented. He looked at Simon, eyes smiling. “This is always the best part. Right after, I mean.”
“It’s pretty amazing,” Simon laughed wetly. He couldn’t be bothered to hide his tears.
“Are you excited to be an uncle?” Wilhelm asked.
“It's crazy. My friends keep saying I'll be the cool Guncle.” Simon joked offhandedly.
Wilhelm beamed back at him. “It is pretty cool, not going to lie.” Simon looked at him with a start. “My older brother has two kids. Also takes the responsibility off of us. Unless, of course, that’s something you want,” he finished. This was turning more personal than Simon suspected most of Wilhelm’s interactions with patients’ families went, but he couldn’t be bothered.
Simon didn’t know what to say. He’d thought about kids, but it seemed so complicated. Surrogacy was banned in Sweden, and sure you could go abroad, but that was complicated, expensive, and potentially ethically unsound. Simon had thought about adoption, but it was just that. He figured once he met the right person, they would have that conversation, but until then it had only been a passing thought. It all seemed so real, with Sara cradling Alma in her arms, and Linda standing over them proudly.
“At least ask me on a date before we start having the kids conversation,” Simon finally joked. Wilhelm startled, looking at him with wide eyes before bursting into laughter.
“Is that a request?” He said quietly, glancing around the room. “I’m a professional.”
They left the hospital early the next morning. Sara insisted on bringing the blanket they wrapped around Alma postpartum, the sheet of paper that had her heart signals and time of birth printed on it, and the basin they had washed her in. Simon, too, left with his own souvenir: a new contact and number in his phone, and a promise of a date.
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Crown Prince Wilhelm is in New York City on official business, and it's been a long exhausting week, and he wants a drink in a place that will make him feel normal. Not in his ostentatious hotel room, not in the hotel bar where staff will fawn over him, not at one of the high-end places that his mother's contacts in the city would take him to. It's easier to move anonymously through foreign cities than it would be back home, but he wants a taste of the real thing.
He dresses down - no suits tonight - and wanders until something catches his eye. Despite his bodyguards' slight frowns, he ducks into a tiny dive bar down a side street. It's dark inside, all shadows and moody red lighting. The floor is clean but cracked, and none of the furniture matches. It's perfect.
People glance up as he comes in, but aside from a few appraising looks, no one makes a thing of it.
It's only when he's already placed his order - for a cheap beer that he's never heard of and that he's hoping is as shitty as it sounds - that he looks at some of the signage hanging behind the bar and glances around at the clientele and realizes - this is a gay bar.
He freezes with his hand in the bowl of complimentary pretzels. His first instinct is to leave before the bartender comes back. It's been ten years since Erik died, ten years since a 16-year-old Wille had had to stuff all his burgeoning self-understanding back inside his princely exterior. For all intents and purposes, Crown Prince Wilhelm is straight.
He turns to go when someone at his elbow says, "När katten är borta dansar råttorna på bordet."
He doesn't know what the odds are of meeting another Swede in a small bar on another continent. He probably needs to find a printer so he can make this person - this, fuck, very pretty person with earnest dark eyes and tumbling brown curls and a mouth set somewhere between a pout and a smile - sign an NDA. Where the fuck does he find a printer at 11 at night?
Before he can panic much further, the person says, "Hey. It's okay. You're not doing anything wrong."
All Wille's training nearly crumbles away. He feels sixteen again, or maybe younger. His chin quivers, and he's saved only by the arrival of the bartender with his beer.
They talk for hours. Simon Eriksson is from a small town that Wille actually knows, had in fact driven through, years ago, when his brother was still in school near there. Simon doesn't drink but he likes the community at this unpretentious bar. He'd come once to hang up flyers for an event at the LGBTQ center he works at, and he sort of never left. They have a honkytonk piano that doesn't sound half bad when he plays it. Wille meets some of the regulars, all Simon's friends, but mostly they just...talk.
They also dance, swaying slowly, Simon's head on Wille's shoulder, when the bar is starting to empty and the music is getting gentler. Wille's dreams will be painted in red light for weeks.
They don't kiss, though Wille wants to, badly. He thinks Simon wants it too, from the way he tilts forward a little after they've hugged goodbye. He'll wait for Simon to text him at his private number, which Wille has given him - maybe rashly, as they've only known each other for a night. It doesn't make sense, to fall for someone who lives so far away. None of this makes sense. But it's the most right Wille has felt for years.
#wilmon#young royals#based broadly on two gay bars i've been to in nyc#one in brooklyn ... i think williamsburg?? and one in...the east village i think? i was never great at getting the neighborhoods down
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Happy season 3 of young royals to all who celebrate!
(It’s me I’m celebrating)
On to episode 5, which I didn’t watch this weekend due to knocking my computer off my couch and cracking the screen about ten minutes in. Totally my fault, but I also want compensation from Lisa Ambjörn personally, y’know?
Anyway, on to episode 5! Hope all who have finished the season enjoyed themselves, and looking forward to getting there myself.
Reactions / commentary / flailing (please dear God let me not break my computer this time) under the cut for spoilers / avoidance purposes.
- oh god the opening of this episode. Why did August tell him that about Erik. Why?! What was the point of that? It just seems needlessly cruel.
- and Wilhelm not telling Simon. Will he ever? This fool says nah, our crown prince is not in good-decisions-mode.
- August is such a shit! Vincent is a total dick, but blowing him off in that smug and dismissive way…legos underfoot are too good for him. Thumbtacks? Marbles? PORCUPINES?
- having just said I hope August has something very painful and embarrassing happen to him, I do really want to know what’s up with his letter.
- so hard to see Wilhelm and his Dad talking about Erik. Which begs the question—why does Wilhelm believe August without question? It really seems like he just accepts this information about this brother and I’m not sure I understand it.
- Wilhelm turning down Simon’s call. BAD DECISIONS MODE activated, huh? Oh, and now we’re quitting choir??? Buddy, sunshine, pal, YOUR LOVELY BOYFRIEND IS RIGHT THERE TO TALK TO HIM. (I wasn’t expecting him to actually to do it? He talked! And Simon said something helpful! And Wilhelm just, wow, buddy, wow. That stupidity is gonna come bite you.)
- fucksSAKE August, leave Sara ALONE.
- oh we get friendship time with Felice, oh good.
- Good luck Sara! OH. NO. Very upsetting to see her father let her down like that.
- Simon looks so cute in a suit! And his Mom continues to be everything you would want a mom to be. “It shouldn’t be this hard” is such an important message.
- Simon, good, yes, hug your sister! You two need to be friends again please!
- oh seeing Wilhelm remove the purple nail polish, my friends I am in PAIN.
- oh some CUTENESS. the birthday muffin! The birthday muffin! The birthday muffin, I may yet live.
- “maybe it was stupid to tell you about Erik” YA THINK ASSHOLE?!?
- oh the sports foundation SUCKS. Give the man an LGTBQ charity PLEASE.
- oh the weird birthday song. Bless them they are trying! I love Simon’s little look of wtf through it all. Perfect.
- August is a complete mystery. Going to the party after being sent home like that? I for one would not. I’d be on tumblr, licking my wounds, or something. Instead he’s chugging red wine in a white suit.
- I like the “tale of two dinners” format
- Simon is doing his best but I can only imagine how hard this is for him.
- August “leave her alone” challenge. You absolute walnut.
- I would not have hugged him, I would have punched him. Sara is much nicer than me.
- Wilhelm, I get that you’re having a crisis but think about someone other than yourself, *please*. Simon does not deserve to deal with your family shit without your support! Simon, you do the right thing for you, buddy! You go home!
- Simon’s side eye when Wilhelm goes off is everything.
- Simon, gtfo, love. This is above your pay grade.
- “love shouldn’t be this hard”
For everyone who has sat with that for a week…oof.
Ow.
#a fool watches young royals#young royals#young royals season 3#young royals s3#young royals s3 ep5#simon eriksson#crown prince wilhelm#wilhelm x simon#young royals spoilers
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Young Royals S3 thoughts
EP 1
First word of the season is crown prince.
The queen is ill. taking pills. Simply depressed or something else too?
„Was this how you imagined it would be?“ „No, this is better.“ My heart.
Settling the video issue outside the courts. Simon just wants it to be over - Linda why are you not listening to your son?
Fuck you Rickard for telling everyone about Simon and the drug thing anyway. That was so unnecessary!
And then they all just signed anyway?
The queen having a breakdown scares the shit out of me. Wille is going to have to take over so soon, and the responsibility will be the death of him and Simon.
Madison is the only one seeing that something is actually wrong with Felice, and she’s trying to be such a good friend.
Farima seems cool!
Simon grounded. wtf, I don’t like it. And it’s not exactly his fault he didn’t tell Linda about everything that was going on - like she has to take some blame there too.
Vincent you fucking idiot. I hate you. You don’t get to blame Wille for this. And don’t you DARE talk to a reporter.
That kiss, in the library, and everyone going absolutely quiet - AAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!
Crown prince.. and your boyfriend! - AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!
I’m not sure they are really listening to each other, actually. Please guys, no more miscommunication!
YES, Wille!!! Show off your boyfriend and shut down their reactions with that look of ‚that’s my boyfriend, and if anyone has a problem with that, they have a problem with me!“
Fucking hate Vincent. „You and Wilhelm can sit together on the bus out to the slums.“ Fuck you Vincent. - Also, is it bad that I think August actually handled that situation really well?
Sara, my love - do you need a hug?
That heart on the hand is a heartstopper reference, and no one will ever convince me otherwise!
So Marcus talked about Simon to the press. As if we needed any confirmation that he was a dickhead. Good riddance.
Simon don’t respond to the tweets!!!!
Foolish. But brave. - Yes, that sums up Wille pretty well :)
Wille saying „I wish I could ask him“ about Erik breaks my heart. Look at his eyes when he says it! There is so much grief which he has not processed at all.
Sara going to Micke. I love that he takes her in, but also, she should really talk to someone else, not rekindle the extremely strained / non-existent relationship with her dad which was so traumatic to her! Saraaaaaaaa, please talk to your mum, or a therapist. Anyone!
Wille waking up peacefully smiling and redrawing the heart on his hand. This is joy.
Ok that initiation shit sounds traumatizing as hell - who the fuck thought that would be a good idea?
And no, Vincent, shut the fuck up, you don’t get to blame Wille for any of this!!!! Just fuck right off!
Did Simon keep that seat for Wille? 🥰
Simon’s expression at ‚Is it true? Did it happen to you?‘ And ‚what about the other stuff?‘ - just not able to comprehend how Wille could have done any of it. Ohhh, I smell drama on the horizon, and I don’t like it.
I love that them hearing about the restrictions makes them hold hands even tighter. I love that they can just do that now, in public, in school, in front of everyone. Still not over it.
The new principal’s smile gives me serial killer vibes.
Aaaaahhhhh, I’m not ready for the drama, I’m not ready for the discussions, the tensions, the secrets, for any of it!!! I’m scared to keep going, because I don’t want them to have to go through any of it - haven’t they suffered enough? Haven’t we suffered enough?
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I got to go to graduation last night for my high schoolers. This group of seniors has always been kinda special to me. They were the second and last group I taught biology to as freshmen, which was cut short thanks to Covid. So, I never really got a good sense of closure like I did with my first group of freshmen.
There were quite a few students in that group I developed a strong bond with, who always took time to come see me once I moved up to teaching psych and soc. A lot of them even ended up taking those classes when they heard I was teaching them. I even got to teach some of them for at least one semester all throughout their high school career!
And then this past spring semester I have been gone the entire time, taking care of my precious little boy. Even through those late night feedings and throughout the day, I'd often drift off and wonder how my other kids were doing. Because at the end of the day, despite the exhaustion and mental drain, my students are my other kids.
Going to graduation, hearing the excited crimes of my name, hugging them, congratulating them, telling them how proud I am of them, seeing how much they've all changed over the years. Knowing that at the end of the day even if they don't remember Wilhelm Wundt or Maslow's Heirarchy of Needs, I have made a positive impact on them, that's what makes teaching worth it.
With all the pressure of state testing and getting through curriculum, it's easy to forget that what a lot of students need is just someone to listen to them. Yeah, making sure they're getting an education is important, but we can not teach them if they don't feel valued or loved.
So, class of 2023, here's looking at you from the class of 2013. The world's just opening up. Enjoy what life has to offer you, the good and the bad. I can't lie, life will throw curveballs your way, it will knock you down, but you are not alone. Your friends, your family, and yes your teachers are also with you. Enjoy your walk into adulthood, whether you're going into college, a career, or still just trying to figure out what it is you want out of life. Life is not a race, it is a journey full of all the twists and turns that come with that.
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We'll be there for you
by planetary_writer "Seeing Wilhelm fighting every step down that aisle, he can’t stop being sent back to the time, when he was, barely older than Wilhelm now, in this exact position. How alone and lost he felt. The wounds from then still not completely healed, he knew he had to be here today. Erik would always be there for him, so now it was his turn to be there for Wilhelm." or Prince Henry attends Erik's funeral or Wilhelm gets the support system he deserves Words: 1591, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Young Royals (TV 2021), Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Simon Eriksson, Wilhelm (Young Royals), Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Alex Claremont-Diaz Relationships: Simon Eriksson/Wilhelm, Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor & Wilhelm (Young Royals) Additional Tags: Gay Simon Eriksson, Unlabeled Wilhelm (Young Royals), other queer people in there, Wilhelm Needs a Hug (Young Royals), and he gets them, no beta we die like Erik, he is also dead in this one, im sorry, but wilhelm gets a support system, They/them Vincent because I said so, Nonbinary Character, Bad Parent Kristina (Young Royals), Good Parent Kristina (Young Royals), look she is trying, Queer Disaster Wilhelm (Young Royals), was listening to omars music when writing this, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, will add more tags as i continue, Implied/Referenced Character Death, look those tags are in no order whatsoever via https://ift.tt/GXeJYvs
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Is there something I can do?
Pairing: Wilhelm x fem!reader
warnings: kinda dubcon at the beginning, unprotected sex and swallowing you know what.
Summary: You greet a pissed-off Wilhelm as he returns from the Christmas holidays, but once he learns that Simon has gone on a date with someone else, he decides to use you as a way to get his mind off the fact.
a/n:is Wilhelm gay? yes, Am I just horny? Yes, Is this wrong on many levels? Yes But the fact remains that I have the ability to write and that means I can make anything I want come true. Basically, I am more powerful than god. DO NOT SPOILER SHIT. I AM AT 2X1
"Wilhelm" you greeted him with a big smile as he got out of the car. "y/n" he murmured with what was about 2% of the excitement you had shown, as you hugged him. His woody cologne momentarily hypnotized you. It was incredible how, even if he had probably never been worse than right now, he still managed to look and smell so put together. You knew he was gonna be in a shitty mood. The whole August thing had really made him go mad, which you totally understood, but every time he started talking about the plans he had in mind to make him pay you couldn't help but feel kind of scared. He wasn't just mad. He looked fucking homicidal. You had spent all the Christmas holidays trying to gently calm him down but he hadn't listened to you not one bit. It was like talking to a wall. A very pissed one. And you knew it wasn't just only that. the whole year had been a nightmare, first coming to Hillerska, then his brother, and then Simon. It had really been a lot, and as much as you wanted to be close to him and help him, you were starting to suspect it was impossible. "You changed your hair" you noticed, taking one of your hands out of your pocket to brush through them. The cold took you by surprise and you shuddered under your apparently not-heavy enough jacket. "Yup" Wilhelm said,uninpressed. You exhaled annoyedly at his mood as he nodded to his bodyguard to take his luggage inside. "help you unpack?" you offered, not wanting to give up just yet. You knew the old Wilhelm was there somewhere you just needed time and patience to find him. "sure" he shrugged as he set off towards the front door. You huffed as you started following him. The pebbles on the ground suddenly felt loud with your every step.
"so, how do you feel?" you tried breaking the ice as you sat on his bed. He looked at you and raised his eyebrows, perfectly capturing an -are you serious?- face. "Alright. Yeah, that was a stupid question" you raised your hand in defense "but I mean" you paused to think very thoroughly at your next words "maybe it's not gonna be that bad" you smiled shyly and he didn't even look at you as he took off his scarf and coat and hanged them. "August and Simon are just two people" you bit your lip "There's a hundred more in this school" you tilted your head to the side, trying to get even a glimpse of his expression as he gave you his back. "I think it's gonna be fine Wilhelm" you swallowed nervously. It was at moments like this that you realized you were talking to the heir to the Swedish crown. The same one that could have probably made you disappear with just a phone call. "I-I think you are gonna be fine" you started picking some skin from your fingers anxiously at his non-responsiveness. "Wilhelm?" you finally called him. no response. you frowned, as you called him again. You had seen him acting weird, sure, but this was new. "he's on a date" Wilhelm's voice fainter than a whisper finally gave some signs of life. Good, at least he wasn't dead. You imagined for a moment what the front page of the newspaper tomorrow would have looked like otherwise. "Hillerska student murders the Prince by giving him the dullest speech ever known to mankind" Yeah, no. That wouldn't have been good. "What?" you asked, confused. he turned around this time. And you immediately wished he hadn't. You had gotten the title wrong. It was the other way around. remember when you talked about him looking homicidal? This was it. You gulped as you felt your heart start beating approximately 100 times faster than any normal human being should. "He's on a date" a sinister and hysterical smile appeared on his face as he passed a hand through his hair. "he's on a fucking date" he scoffed incredulously. He started pacing across the room looking around like he had no idea where to point his sight at. "he's on a fucking date. With some fucking guy. and-and " he stopped. You doubted he knew what he wanted to say next. "He's on a date" He turned towards you. His mouth was wide open as ragged breaths came out of it. You could see in his eyes both the hurt and the anger. It was a weird mixture, one that on him looked absolutely terrifying. "I can't believe it" he finally spat out, seemingly having exhausted all of his energies. you had no idea what to say, but his eyes fixated on yours pressured you to find something, and quickly "I-I'm sorry Wilhelm" was all you could think of. He was still scrutinizing you, looking like he was expecting something more, so you obeyed."I-I'm really sorry" You looked around the room in search of some kind of answer as he started slowly walking towards you, examining you as if you were a target he had just acquired "Is there-is there something I can do?" you asked finally as a desperate last beach. He was now in front of you. You were looking up at him nervously. You had no idea what he was gonna do. the fire in his eyes suggested that he either was gonna throw you out, start crying, or just straight up murder you. None of those seemed like particularly good options, you felt. And none of those options he went for. You hadn't even registered him bending down when you felt his mouth on yours. What? He attacked your lips as he grasped your face harshly and infiltrated his tongue in your mouth as he pushed you onto the bed. His lips were chapped and the kiss was wet and messy and angry. His hold on your head was strong and you could feel all the pent-up frustration in him by the way he kept deepening the kiss, even when it was clear to you it was impossible to do so. he leaned away and you gasped for air as he looked at you with the same gaze from before. "Wilhelm" you whispered "What are you doing?" you asked genuinely. You knew he wasn't interested in you. You weren't stupid. This was him quite literally relieving some stress. He seemed to not even have heard you as he bent down to leave a trail of wet and hasty kisses on your neck. "Wilhelm" you called him again. "C'mon y/n, I need this" his strained voice vibrated against your throat. "Wilhelm" you murmured disapprovingly. "just let me fuck you" his hand found its way to your thighs, and you whimpered. "I just gotta take my mind off of it" he kissed you, but you were too occupied processing what he was saying that you didn't even reciprocate, letting him leave desperate kisses on your parted mouth. "You asked me what you could do" he breathed out as his hands found your underwear. "This is what I want" he toyed with the hem of your panties. you tried thinking of reasons why not to do this but were finding none. He was hot and smart and oh did I forget to mention? the fucking prince. It was a no-brainer. "C'mon I'm the fucking prince" he laughed bitterly, and you smiled. "Alright my prince" you looked at him he groaned as he immediately ripped your panties off. the cold air hitting your core causing you to bite your lip. He quickly undid his belt and pulled his pants down to his feet, not even taking them fully off before he let his cock spring free from his boxers. He grabbed your waist and moved you horizontally onto the bed. He bent down and kissed you again as he touched every single inch of your body. Your boobs, sides, cheeks, and thighs. He was everywhere. he then leaned away and took one last look at you before bringing one of his hands up, spitting on it with his royal mouth, before slapping it on your pussy, spreading his saliva all over your entrance. "stay still" he ordered as he positioned himself and pushed himself into you. "f-fuck" you moaned faintly as he groaned very loudly. He started bucking his hips into you, speeding up his pace as you started bouncing on his bead, producing loud creeks from the bed frames. He bit his lip as he admired you getting filled by him, moaning,whimpering and murmuring his name. Loving the feeling of his cock so deep inside you, filling you up perfectly and completely. "god Wilhelm" you cried out as he dragged you closer to him by the waist, making him enter you even more. "Sh-sh-sh" he shushed you, giving you a sloppy kiss " you gotta be quiet" he whispered, as he propped himself up with one elbow on each side of your face. You nodded incoherently as he smirked smugly. His pushes were hard and decisive and they were clearly only intended to pleasure him, hard and fast to just get him where he needed to be, making him momentarily forget what really was bothering him. You could feel his every breath on your mouth and you noticed once it started getting struggled, as his thrusts did the same. "F-fuck" he growled in pleasure as he pushed himself into you again and again until he knew he was on the verge of coming. "Open your mouth" he ordered, and you smiled shyly at the image in front of you. The prince of Sweden kindly asking you to open his mouth to finish inside it. What a world. he pulled out of you and got up on the side of the bed as you sat up towards him, your mouth wide open. "stick out your tongue," he commanded as he stroked himself, and you obviously did,and in just a few seconds were shot at with his warm fluid, cum that, since the prince apparently lacked aim, ended up basically on your whole face. You collected it all with your index finger, sucked it off, and let go of it with a loud pop. Wilhelm was looking at you amused, surprised, and proud at the same time, all while catching his breath. you smiled sheepishly "So did it work?" he chuckled " perfectly"
#wilhelm#wilhelm x reader#wilhelm young royals#young royals smut#Smut#prince wilhelm of sweden#young royals#Wilhelm x y/n#wilhelm smut#wilhelm fanfiction#wilhelm fanfic#Prince Wilhelm of Sweden smut#young royals fanfic#young royals fanfiction
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This has been talked about a lot, but i find it so remarkable and genuinely beautiful to point out, especially when a second season is about to drop.
Wilhelm and simon did not left in bad terms.
It’s known that if it wasn’t for all the things rowing against them, that stood in their way and got out of control, the happily ever after would have been a possibility. They found their way back to each other, even when everything could much more easily tear them apart.
The one time they didn’t, the one time simon drew the line, it was a thoughtful personal choice, not an imposed one. The situation was tough and also its impact, but the “this doesn’t have to change what we’ve got, it’s just that we can’t be seen together” was for all intents and purposes a way out of it if they both wanted to, so for simon to still let wilhelm go? that was so brave. he put himself first thinking about wille’s sake too, despite the pain of leaving him, of watching tears stream down his face before walking away. It was the right thing, and the most respectful one, to do.
After the video is leaked they’re on the spotlight, but none of people’s eyes watching and wondering stop them from hugging each other publicly one last time; just like all the written speeches, always trying to shut wille’s mouth, that don’t hold him back from telling the realest words he could ever whisper for simon, and simon only, to hear: i love you.
Simon not acting mad or rejective at wilhelm’s instinct to hug him, wille’s need to thank him and speak out his feelings. The betrayal is real, the hurting is real, and they did broke up eventually - just for now - but the main point is: they were not just lovers, they were friends too, they own a special place in the other’s heart and life. They still care for each other, they still love each other, they would still choose each other. the happiness they felt was real too.
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Reblogging again for super interesting take from @putnamcapital
I had interpreted Simon’s lack of reaction in a lighthearted manner. But we’ve SEEN Micke absolutely lose it at Simon in 1.04. Yelling and also manhandling him physically. I have no doubt it happened before. Many, many times over the years prior to Linda divorcing Micke and taking the kids when she left. Simon (and Sara, for that matter) probably associates screaming male voices with Very Bad Things. So he probably was dissociating, or something similar.
Could be yet another reason why Simon refused Wilhelm’s hug a few minutes later. Originally I interpreted it as Simon just needing to withdraw and lick his wounds in private, after Sara’s betrayal. But Wilhelm was the guy who was screaming and waving a weapon around a few minutes earlier. Even if on an intellectual level, Simon believes Wilhelm wouldn’t hurt him, Simon’s clearly not operating on an intellectual level when he resists the hug. It’s pure instinct.
Maybe Simon’s hindbrain is freaking out because this isn’t comfort from his boyfriend. This is forced touch by the man who was screaming and making threats (not to Simon, but still) just a few minutes ago. And Simon is terrified. Thank God Wille let go of him pretty quickly. Before making it even worse.
Okay, now I feel sort of shitty about having interpreted it so lightheartedly before.
Simon when Wilhelm got mad and yelled at August and told him to kneel
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The time has come to show you my "in the moment" notes from when I was watching. Most of these are incoherent. None of them give much insight into exactly what was happening in the plot. There are 10 pages of actual intelligent notes that came after this.
But here are my live reactions to Young Royals Season 2:
Episode 1:
Times I cried - only 1
So much just happened
Why do I not hate Sara and August?
Simon and Marcus? No. Marcus? Yes. Dorky and loveable so far.
Wille going off the fucking rails will be my end. In a good way, though.
NILS WHAT IN THE WORLD BUT ALSO LIKE YEAH OK
Episode 2:
Times I cried - 3
Sara, you ungrateful bitch
Henry and Simon are hugging?
Sara is wearing Stella’s sweater.
Wille and Erik made me sob like a baby.
Snow globe made me sob like a baby.
Bestie got everything he wanted, except for Simon.
Simon wearing Wille’s sweater. Send Tweet.
Both Eriksson siblings need to keep it in their pants.
If what I think is happening right now is happening, it better not be.
WILHELM PUT THE PHONE DOWN.
Episode 3:
Times I cried- 2
HE’S WEARING PURPLE AGAIN
I adore Nils
Sara… SARA
I hate Marcus now. He was dorky now he's evil.
I should hate it. I don’t. I should.
He has pictures on his phone. Abort mission. Abort mission.
WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING
I need to take a minute. Thank god for Henry. What the actual fuck just happened?
Episode 4:
Times I cried - 2
This was not the Wille on the table scene I wanted.
What are these faces, Sara?
This is so quickly going to shit. I’m losing my mind.
I WANT TO HATE IT SO BADLY
WHY THE FUCK DO I FEEL BAD FOR AUGUST?
He unnamed the fish omg
Pushing every Stedrika agenda I’ve ever had.
I have so many problems with this. It’s obvious Simon is trying to make him jealous, and it’s so sad.
WILMON ENDGAME PLEASE OMG
They’re in love.
Episode 5:
Times I cried - 1
HE’S SMELLING THE SWEATER AGAIN
Fuck Jan-Olaf
Wilhelm was so excited omg no
Oh my poor baby,
OH IT’S SPICY
IT’S VERY VERY SPICY
Episode 6:
Times I cried -2
Oh shit
Marcus kinda snapped, not gonna lie. Hate him.
Why do they keep doing this to Alexander?
OH SHIT SHE USED THE LOVE WORD
Oh my god. Wille has a gun. Sara is gonna get found out. Simon’s gonna be traumatized. Felice is gonna know. OH MY GOD
He loved her back omg
SARA DON’T YOU DARE OUT STELLA RIGHT NOW I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD
She just moved out overnight ok
Oh he’s down bad for Sara
OH MY FUCKING GOD
OH MY GOD NO HE DID NOT
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