spennufall

[spennufall]

[spennufall]

Writing tag game!

Thank you @jordensgolde for tagging me !!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

16

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

302,620 words

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Young Royals, used to write for My Hero Academia too.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

find my way back home tonight

What do the lonely do at Christmas?

One Last Dance

Komdu um jólin

Hello, Wilhelm

6. Do you respond to comments?

Most of them yes, I don't answer to emojis or very small ones 'cause I never know what to say...

7. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Mmmmh.... I don't know if it's Hello, Wilhelm or the Hunger Games wip I have. Probably both.

8. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

A tie between One Last Dance and Komdu um jolin, honestly.

9. Do you get hate on fics?

Nah, I just had someone commenting they wouldn't read a project that was a multi-format one. Like??? Thanks, you don't need to tell me?

10. Do you write smut?

I have exactly two smut scenes in my works for now... Planning on adding three more soon.

11. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I don't, I write Alternate Universes but I rarely use the characters from the other universe.

12. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not a fic, per se, but a background I wrote for a character I was roleplaying. The other person just copied my long ass rant about the character's past and pasted it on their own character sheet, not knowing the admin was my friend and told me immediately.

13. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! This one that I orphaned when I started writing for Young Royals because I was scared the fandom would judge me for writing Omegaverse.... Which is funny because that was my most popular fic ever :') Anyway, it was translated into Spanish right there!

14. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, Hello, Wilhelm is a collab with royal-archive! And I co-wrote a Fullmetal Alchemist one-shot years ago.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

... Joker? Nah in all seriousness, maybe Get It Right because I kinda lost the spark. Maybe it'll come back though. In my drafts I have a TBDATE AU that I won't finish ever because the plot is lame.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think it's coming up with ideas, I have a lot, and they slot together nicely. I've gotten compliments on my world-building skills too and I think those are very nice because I honestly think I suck at world-building.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Writing---- No in all seriousness, descriptions of feelings. English is not my first language so when I try, words aren't natural and I spend a shitton of time just trying to find the right word... ugh. That and battle scenes, you don't want to see me write a battle scene, I have to stand up and mimic positions and punches to understand what I'm doing this is ridiculous!!!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I won't lie, I like to throw in some terms of endearment in it, but then dialogs in other languages have to make /sense/, you know? Throwing a dialog in Swedish in a fic set up in Stockholm while all the other dialogs are written in English (and it's supposed to be Swedish in the text, yknow), sounds stupid if it doesn't have a purpose. So I do it when it serves my narrative ig???

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Ehhhhh.... Killerpilze RPF :x

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Hello, Wilhelm 'cause it was so fun doing it with Jordan. In my published works I'd say it's a tie between Of Ivory And Honey because of the flow I had while writing it, and Wilhelm, the Devoted because it allows for my nerding.

As for unreleased ones...... Something something about the reader being the hero. Let's pray I can actually finish this one though!

[spennufall]

The odds were never in his favor

Simon's head whipped to the left, where he knew Wilhelm was standing, all prim and proper in his light blue shirt that perfectly complemented his pale complexion. Simon only knew Wilhelm from school. They had shared a classroom since forever, and Wilhelm was one of the top students. That was the only place he crossed paths with him, since Wilhelm wasn't working at the factory: being the son of the mayor had its perks.

But that didn't exempt him from being registered in the Hunger Games like the rest of them.

✄┈┈

Living in District Eight is no walk in the park, but Simon finds it bearable most of the time. Unless it's Reaping time.

POV Simon • Hunger Games AU • Major Character Death • Violence • Hurt / No Comfort • Two shot

[spennufall]

Wilhelm, the Devoted: chapter four

"Isn't that a bit dangerous? I mean, with only Rosh and a couple of guards to protect him…"

"He's well-liked, at least in the capital, where people see first hand that he's not some lazy bum waiting for taxes to feed him." She gives him a pointed look. "He only took guards to protect you, also. He's very capable of fending for himself, should the need arise."

Fantasy AU • Spare Prince Simon • Spare Prince Wilhelm • Hurt/Comfort • Arranged Marriage • Enemies to Lovers to Enemies to- • Slow burn • there's dragons too

[spennufall]

Maybe it's worth it

He giggles. Dreaming about Simon feels forbidden. It's like a guilty pleasure. Like when you have a celebrity crush and fabricate a scenario where they magically notice your existence and fall for you. Except Wille is the celebrity and Simon is just too good for him.

But Simon was brave enough to kiss the frog prince.

✄┈┈

Wilhelm doesn't know why he's partying, when the world feels as bleak as it does now that Erik's gone. Maybe he should follow his example. After all, he's made to walk in his shoes, right?

Suicide attempt • Grief/Mourning • Football field scene • Drug use

[spennufall]

Made sure of it

Sara didn't resist the urge to look. Wille's lock screen was none other than Simon. Simon, smiling brightly, his curls wild around his sun-kissed face, his eyes almost closed with how wide his grin was. Sara couldn't blame Wille for saving this picture. Simon looked like the definition of happiness on there, and her heart clenched at the reminder that he hadn't looked like that in a while.

✄┈┈

Sara Eriksson had never experienced grief. Seeing her brother wilt away after a break-up was already awful enough, but life wasn't kind on him.

POV Sara • Hurt no Comfort • Post breakup Wilmon • Implied/Referenced suicide

[spennufall]

May Never Make it Out Challenge

Post a 1-5 paragraph excerpt of a WIP / fic idea that may never make it out of your drafts but is near and dear to your heart

Thank you @unfortunate17 for tagging me! I don't know many ppl on tumblr so maybe @jordensgolde would like to try?

Anyway, my excerpt is actually a fic that's fully planned, like there's two parts and about 10 chapters per part. I worked a bit on it when I got sick but I think if it does come out it won't be before I'm done with both Fantasy and Kidnapper AUs!

So enjoy chapter one of an horror AU ig?

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

January embers

Chapter One: You can't be careful on a skateboard

October 1988

The rain was heavy, falling in big, fat droplets that hit the pavement in an orchestra of splashing sounds. The whole town was taken by surprise by what was now more of a storm than a simple downpour. The streets were quickly deserted, everyone seeking cover from the rain. It was supposed to be a bright day, albeit a little cold, nothing strange for the middle of October in Maine.

The Norling brothers had thought it was a great opportunity to practice some of their skateboarding skills. They got caught by the storm, and were now running up the street leading to their house in the fanciest part of town. Panting with the effort, they exchanged chuckles every once in a while when their eyes met. Hair plastered to their heads, their clothes hanging heavily on them, wet and clinging to their skin, each step they took made a squeaky sound as their wet shoes slipped against the ground.

Erik was up first, his board tucked under his arm. He was the fastest of the two - as he always was typically the best at everything, Wille would say - but he couldn't help but look back at Wille, who was trailing behind. His eyes didn't catch the way Wille's shoelaces were untied, and he was about to shout yet another word of encouragement along the lines of "come on, we're almost there", but Wille tripped on his shoelace. He stumbled a bit, but couldn't catch himself before he face planted on the wet ground.

He let out a loud whimper as Erik echoed with a gasp, letting his board fall wood down on the grass to crouch beside him. Wille didn't manage to use his hands to stop the fall, as he too was holding his board. Said board he let go in his fall, letting in roll away down the slippery slope of the street.

"Ow, fuck!" Wille exclaimed, watching helplessly as the board rolled down to the open manhole on the other side of the street.

"No cussing, Wille!" Erik laughed, before helping him up on his feet. "You okay?" He asked, assessing his brother's state. Wille twisted his arms, showing angry red scratches on his elbows, nothing a good disinfectant wouldn't fix. Erik wiped Wille's chin off of the blood there with the back of his hand.

"Jut a lil' cut. Maybe you'll get a bad ass scar, lil' man!"

Wille groaned, rubbing at his elbows and jerking his head away from Erik. "It's alright… But I lost the board. Mom's gonna kill me…"

Erik chuckled again and stood up, wiping some water off of his brows. "We just gotta go down and get it back, easy peasy!" He shrugged, and started walking towards the manhole. He peered inside, Wille staying behind, hesitating a bit. But he followed, he always followed, and looked down at the hole too. It was pitch black down there.

"Are you seriously suggesting we go down the sewers?" He asked with a shaky voice. If Erik was brave and a little reckless, Wille was more of a scaredy cat. And right now, he preferred to face his mother's wrath than to set foot in there. Erik didn't have any of it though, and he sat down at the edge of the manhole, his legs hanging in.

He looked up at Wille, grinning from ear to ear. For him, it was clearly another adventure. "Hell yeah! Come on, don't be a pussy, Wille!"

Shaking his head vehemently, Wille took a step back. "Nuh-uh! No way! Go by yourself, I'd rather get my ass whipped!"

Erik barked a laugh. "Kinky, Wille!"

And before Wille could retort anything, Erik let himself fall down the hole. He landed with a loud splash and a "ew!".

"Serves you right!" Wille shouted, only to hear Erik yell: "Fuck you! Be useful and go fetch dad's flashlight, will ya!"

Wille groaned, of course he didn't think twice before jumping in. He started running back to the house anyway, collecting Erik's board on the lawn as he passed in front of it.

Erik trained his ear, listening to the fading sounds of his brother's retreating footsteps. He felt a little dumb to not have thought about the light before, but that wouldn't be the first time he went head down into something without thinking it through.

He stepped aside, hiding from the rain that continued to pour down the hole, effectively drenching him. Looking around, he could only see for about two meters before the darkness envelopped his surroundings. It was eerily silent too, the only noise coming from the water dropping down. He could feel, more than see, the water lapping down at his calves. Erik took a deep breath, surprised the smell wasn't as awful as he'd expected, Wille could have gotten down, really.

He needed to get his brother to present a stronger front to the world, but today wasn't the day, apparently. He'd think later about a way to make him "man up" a little, but for now, he needed to find that board before the dragon they called mom could take this as another opportunity to belittle Wille. Why she did this, Erik had no idea. Every time he swore he'd talk to her about it, that maybe he could get her to go easier on him, but every time he looked down and turned around to go console Wille instead.

Erik moved his foot around, trying to feel the ground around him. The board shouldn't be so far away, surely it couldn't have rolled down there with all the water. Tapping the ground with his foot, he walked a bit around the tunnel, not wanting to put his hands down the dirty water.

Then, something hit him. Rather, he smelled something. Something sweet? That was weird. Those were sewers, they were supposed to smell like piss, shit and trash, not fucking pop corn. Sniffing around, Erik stopped dead in his tracks when he saw it.

Two eyes. Bright, yellow, staring back at him. Too high up to be those of a cat or any other four-legged creature. Before Erik could get a proper look, a voice called out to him.

"Are you looking for this, Erik?"

Erik looked down, beneath those eyes. A glowed hand was extended towards him, holding a small board decorated with bright band stickers he knew originally belonged to Simon Eriksson, Wille's best friend. Erik looked back up, locking gazes with those eyes.

"It's… It's my brother's board. It fell down the manhole." He stepped forward, trying to reach for the board. "Thank you, for finding it."

"It's a nice board, Erik. It's also nice of you to play fetch for your little brother. Does that happen often?"

Erik frowned. That voice was grating at his nerves, and he felt a shiver run down his spine. Still, he didn't back down. "Does what happen often?"

"You, crawling into shit to fix your brother's mistakes." The voice got closer, and Erik could finally see who was talking. A tall, crouched down clown, clad in a dirty white outfit, his face painted white too, with an enormous forehead adorned with an orange curly wig. The man was ridiculous, but the way he talked, the way he looked at Erik with those hungry eyes… It made him step back.

"Not cool dude, don't know what's your deal, just gimme the board back." Erik tried, reaching for the board.

The clown pulled it back to him. "Oh, come on. You're not very polite there, mister Norling." The clown smiled, wide, showing his yellow front teeth. "Don't you want Wille's board back so mommy won't kick him?"

Erik froze. He hadn't realized it just yet, but that clown didn't say things randomly. He knew things about Erik, about Wille, about their family. He knew them and he used them to make Erik's blood boil. "Who the hell are you?!"

His voice was more a squeal now, and he hated himself from not managing to control it. He exhaled a shaky breath, stepping back again. Maybe for once Wille could handle Kristina's wrath. Maybe he could pretend August stole it. It wouldn't be a first. Maybe-

"Me? I'm Pennywise, and I'll give you the board back. If you just say 'please'." He smiled even wider, and Erik wondered how his cheeks could still be intact.

He swallowed, hard. This was when he noticed that he couldn't hear the rain anymore. Still, he didn't dare to turn around and check if it was his imagination. He had a feeling that if he took his eyes off of the clown, it would be the last thing he did.

"Please?" He squeaked, extending his hand again. He could see his own finger shake in the corner of his eyes, still fixed on the clown.

"Good boy." He cooed, lifting the board up to Erik's hand again.

Erik grabbed the truck under the board to have a secure grip on it, and tugged it. It didn't move. The clown didn't let go of it. Erik inhaled, stepping back again, trying to pull on the board slightly.

The clown wasn't moving. It stared right at him, his eyes devoid of any emotions. It stared right at him, and Erik felt like it was staring at his very soul.

"Come on-" He pulled harder on the board, feeling the urge to get the fuck out from there.

The board came to him this time, and Erik almost smiled.

Almost, cause the second thing he felt after he felt the clown's grip on the board loosen, was a sharp pain in his neck.

Looking down, all he saw was orange, orange fluffy and dirty hair, right next to his nose. He could breathe in the stinky smell of the clown, and feel something wet and thick run down his neck. He felt, more than heard, the loud scream ripping from his throat.

"ERIK?!"

Wille had finally found the flashlight. He ran back down the street, right back to the manhole, flinging his head through it without hesitation.

Oh Erik wished he could've seen his little brother, how he had bravely jumped down the sewer when Erik didn't answer his calls. How he looked around for hours, calling his name over and over, sinking down into the scary, dark tunnels until his throat hurt and his legs shook too much. He wished he could've seen the first time Wille was brave enough to forgot his own safety in order to find his big brother.

But all Erik could see was red. Red lips, shining over a big red mouth, red balloons, obscuring his vision, red blood, painting the sewers' walls and the water around them.

The only thing Wille found that day was Erik's carabiner, holding his house keys and the little frog keychain Wille had won at the fair three years before, the green plastic now tainted with dark, angry red stains.

[spennufall]

May Never Make it Out Challenge

Post a 1-5 paragraph excerpt of a WIP / fic idea that may never make it out of your drafts but is near and dear to your heart

thank you to @tooindecisivetopickaurl and @in-amor-veritas for the tags. I'll no-pressure tag @skibasyndrome @spennufall @malinowaj @phneltwrites and @hergrandplan

here's a very self indulgent science fiction au that i've been working on on & off for over year. i actually have more than 12k written it's just too weird to actually share LOL but...here's like 3k of it ♥️

---

SIMON: SESSION 3

"I have a surprise for you."

"Oh?" Wilhelm asks, trying to keep his voice calm. Erik's words from last night are still fresh in his mind as he makes his way from the entrance to the middle of the room where the two chairs stand as usual.

Simon's seated on the floor this time, cross-legged. Wilhelm hesitates before taking his usual seat on the chair instead of joining Simon on the floor. The boundaries between them are still a little blurred. It’s difficult to understand what would startle Simon and what would make Wilhelm himself uncomfortable.

"It's not a song," Simon clarifies, a bit unnecessarily as there’s no piano in this room, "It's - a surprise. You have to close your eyes." Wilhelm watches as Simon gets to his feet, eyes subconsciously tracing a path from his slim shoulders to his slender waist. By the time he manages to rip his gaze away, a faint shade of pink is dusting across Simon's cheeks. Strange for someone without blood. "Wille is that okay?"

“What?”

Simon smiles like he’s heard a very funny joke. “Can you close your eyes?”

"Oh - yeah, sure," Wille nods. He curls his fingers into his sweats and shuts his eyes.

"I'm going to leave the room for a minute."

Wilhelm opens his eyes, a sound of protest rising in his throat, "You - has Erik said -"

"I'm just going back to the bedroom," Simon explains patiently. If Wilhelm's sudden reaction has piqued his curiosity, he doesn't let it show. "The passages are connected. I won't be anywhere I don't belong."

Simon's already halfway to the door before Wilhelm can get himself to respond to the wry words thrown his way. "It's not that you don't belong," he finds himself arguing. Simon freezes at the doorway, but he doesn't turn around to face him. "That’s not what I meant."

The response comes after a long moment of silence. "I'm not like you, Wille," Simon says softly, "Now please close your eyes. I want this to be a surprise."

Wille shuts his eyes. Mostly because he doesn’t know what to say.

The room is silent without Simon, the only sound is his own shallow breathing and the faint ticks from the CCTV cameras moving about the room. Simon is watched twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Wille’s not quite sure how he hasn't asked about them yet, how he manages to live - exist, whatever - like that. He knows that if he were in Simon’s place, he would’ve gone insane by now..

Simon is gone for less than a few minutes, but it feels like much, much longer. The room is uneasy without him, like something is not quite right.

When Wilhelm hears the door slide open again, he squeezes his eyes shut harder, bursts of multicolored dots appearing behind his eyelids. "Simon?"

There's a warm hand on the back of his neck. Wilhelm jumps, his eyes flying open involuntarily. He swallows at the sight before him. His tongue feels like it’s stuck to the roof of his mouth.

"Is it a stupid surprise?" Simon asks quietly, a hint of uncertainty coloring his voice.

Wille thinks he’s forgotten how to use his vocal chords. He shakes his head, keeping his eyes trained on Simon's as he reaches out to gently take one of his translucent hands in his own.

A smile flickers across Simon's features then, eyes squinting in happiness, tongue pressed to the backs of his white teeth. He relaxes, shoulder’s loosening. "How do I look?" he asks, "Do you like it?"

Wilhelm leans back in his chair, scanning him from head to toe. Black boots with little zippers up the sides, dark jeans covering the length of his legs. His arms are covered by a soft looking navy sweater; the peek of a white tee shirt visible through the V-neck. "Yeah,” he nods roughly, “You look - nice." Every nerve in his body must be burning, Wille thinks hysterically, what with the fucking heat Simon's body seems to give off.

"I spent a long time picking it out," Simon admits, squeezing his fingers, "I wanted to - I wanted you to like it. Like me. Sometimes it looks like you do, but you're embarrassed by it. So I thought, if I was more like you, then - you might."

Wille pulls his hands away, noting the way Simon flexes his wired fingers as though he misses the feel of it. "What're you doing?"

"I -" Simon looks at him, wide-eyed. Innocent. "I want us to go on a date."

Wilhelm stands from his chair, steps a few feet to his right in order to take in Simon's delicate frame. He hesitates, then decides that the question probably isn't as loaded as he's making it out to be. "Okay," he says, as casually as he can muster. His pulse is jackhammering. "That sounds like fun. Where would we go?"

Simon's expression ripples, something catching his features far too quickly for Wilhelm to read. "A movie," he says, "An ideal place to observe culture, ideals of beauty, self, and fantasy. Then maybe a walk through a busy street. We'd get a concentrated but shifting view of human life."

Wilhelm stays silent.

"Do you think about me when we're not together?" Simon asks now. He takes a step forward. When Wille doesn't move back, he seems to take it as a sign to close the space between them entirely. He fists a robotic hand in Wilhelm's long-sleeve. His voice is smooth, sexual in a way Wilhelm has never heard. "Because I think about you, Wille. I like to think about you watching me on the cameras."

Wilhelm thinks this is what it means when people say their life is flashing before their eyes. His breathing is obviously unsteady and he wishes he'd worn jeans, or at least thicker pants. He's embarrassingly hard on camera and Simon's done nothing but talk to him. "Simon," he begs, "I’m not sure what you - "

"You give me indications that you're attracted to me," Simon whispers, fingers smoothing across his chest. He tugs at the waistband of Wille’s sweats, "Your micro-expressions are - "

"I'm not sure how micro they are," Wilhelm grits, teeth clenched. He tries to imagine Erik in the observation room, tries to conjure up the image of him watching his exchange with muffled laughter. Unfortunately, it’s not enough to calm the rush of blinding lust that pools in his stomach at the way Simon’s blinking up at him, eyes deep and dark and wide. He takes a shuddering breath and pulls Simon’s hand away from his pants.

Immediately, Simon's face falls. He takes a step back, "I'm sorry," he says, "You’re aroused, but also uncomfortable."

Now, Wilhelm's face feels like it’s on fire. His gaze darts up to the cameras, their steady, blinking almost incriminating. "It’s fine, Simon. Our time is - I'll see you tomorrow, okay?."

The acute disappointment on Simon's face makes him want to take back the words at once. He swallows, turning towards the door. But, Simon stops him once again, his fingers brushing the edges of Wille’s shoulder blades.

"Will you ever take me on a date?" Simon whispers. It sounds like the words are being torn from his body.

Wilhelm closes his eyes, trying to keep his breath steady. "I don't know," he admits, more honest than he’d have preferred to have been in this room. "Have you ever been outside this facility, Simon?"

"No," Simon murmurs. His hand smooths across Wilhelm’s back. "I've never been outside these two rooms."

Wilhelm nods. He turns slightly to remove Simon's arm from his back, the grip of his hand wide around Simon's clothed elbow. The touch is different somehow, more charged than anything they've shared before.

"Will you take me?" Simon asks again, "Wille?"

And Wilhelm needs to leave. Right fucking now.

________

Wilhelm’s breathing hard by the time he’s out of the room, the ghost of Simon’s fingers still dancing on his neck, his face an ever-present image in his mind. He leans against the table in the observation room, ignoring the way Erik’s watching him closely..

“What the fuck,” he manages at last, his voice sounding hoarse to his own ears, “What in ever-loving fuck was that?”

Erik simply calmly adds another spoonful of sugar to his tea. He's leaning back lazily in his chair, screens still blown up with the view of the now empty room. Wilhelm decidedly doesn't look to see where Simon is now. “What was what, little brother?”

“What was he doing?” Wilhelm’s all but yelling now, “Why is he - he’s coming on to me. Why would you make him do that?”

Erik takes a sip of the steaming liquid, an amused expression spreading across his face, “You’re the only other person he’s ever met besides me and I’m basically his father. Doesn’t seem too far-fetched that he’s got a bit of a crush.”

“Fuck,” Wilhelm runs a hand through his hair, trying to get his racing heartbeat under control. “Why would you do that?” He asks finally, “Give him - a sexuality?”

Erik sets down his cup and leans forward on his elbows, “Why not? Sexuality is a fundamental aspect of human life. According to most psychologists, sex is considered a primary reinforcer.” He snorts, “Gives him something to look forward to with you around now.”

Wilhelm takes a seat gingerly on the edge of the table, knee bouncing almost involuntarily. “Why me though? Why make him attracted to his tester?” He tries to keep his question as neutral as possible, but it’s obvious from the way Erik’s face twists with perverse pleasure that he’s given too much away.

“You're asking me if you can fuck Simon, right?” Erik laughs, open-mouthed and shameless.

Wilhelm cringes, cheeks blazing, “No - fuck you, Erik. That’s not what I -”

“You can,” Erik throws him a smirk, “His body is wired with neurotransmitters. He has a complex network of signal paths that mimic nerves. Strip him of those clothes he's just put on for you and he's anatomically accurate, a concentration of sensors down there. If you engage him in the right way, it'll create a pleasure response, and he'll give as good as he takes. He'll even finish, even if the actual mechanics of him coming - ”

Something in Wilhelm runs cold at the words. He steels his back, tries to make himself look as tall as possible even if Erik could stand and dwarf him with mass alone. “That’s not what I fucking asked,” he says darkly.

“Maybe not," Erik mulls as he gets to his feet, "But it’s what you want to know.”

"No it isn't," Wilhelm argues hotly as he follows Erik out of the room. Instead of taking the staircase to the right back up the kitchen and living room, they make a left turn at the end of the corridor. There's a completely new hall here, one that Wilhelm's never seen before. Not for the first time, he wonders how big the facility really is, why one lonely man would need so much space.

They walk in silence for a minute, passing a range of anatomically accurate paintings, mostly of naked young men and women. Wilhelm doesn't ask about them, keeping his eyes trained on Erik’s back. "I want to know," he says instead, repeating his thought from earlier, "why you made him attracted to me - his tester. Why program him like that? Is this to cloud my judgment? A defense tactic or something?"

Erik snorts unkindly. They stand in front of a smooth metallic door, much like the other ones he's seen around in the hallways. Erik clicks the button on his remote door slides open with a smooth hiss. "You don't have access to this room. Just saying."

"Erik," Wilhelm grits, "Why is Simon flirting with me?"

"For fuck's sake, Wille," Erik's voice is tense, coiled, clearly irritated and condescending all at once. "I programmed him to be gay, just like you were programmed to be fluid or whatever the fuck you’re calling yourself this month."

Wilhelm frowns as he steps through the doorway, "Nobody programmed me to be anything."

They're in some sort of lab, smooth glass cases covering bits of blue gel, boxes - clear and cardboard - line an entire wall, most of them filled to the brim with papers to the point where the lids strain outwards. Along his left are sections of android bodies - limbs, torsos, hands - lined in glass cabinets. Towards the back of the room are more parts, specifically a collection of heads. Skull-forms, some with complex carbon-fiber and pneumatic muscle structures, ready to frown or smile. All are noticeably missing the synthetic meshed-flesh covering that Simon has. A row of synthetic faces hang separately up on armatures, much like hats on hat-stands, waiting to be worn.

In the middle of the room is what appears to be an operating table.

Erik moves towards it, picking up a skull as he goes. "Don't be ridiculous," he rolls eyes, clearly amused, "You decided to be queer? No, of course you didn't - you were programmed by a complex combination of nature and nurture. Just like Simon has been programmed." He motions for Wilhelm to follow him as he sets the skull down on the smooth metal of the table. "And frankly, this sounds like your insecurity talking. You're attracted to him; he's attracted to you. His flirting isn't an algorithm, because for the record, I didn't program him to like you."

Wilhelm allows the words to sink into his skin for only a moment before he stomps down on the giddy warmth that irrupts in his stomach. For fuck's sake, he's a scientist; he needs to stop thinking like a teenager with a crush. "Is this where you built him?"

Erik watches him for a long moment, clearly interested by the change of subject, or more accurately, Wilhelm's need to change the subject. "His version of the womb if you will. Want to know the biggest challenge when it came to making him?" Wilhelm moves to nod before he realizes that it's a rhetorical question, "Facial expressions. Humans read and express them on a basic level, we're born with it hardwired into us - they span every culture, every language. It ended up being the main downfall of some of the earlier prototypes - "

"Earlier prototypes?" Wille can't help but jut in. Realistically he knows that Erik's been working on this little hobby of his for over a decade, there had to have been other models, simpler ones, ones that didn't work as well. It's still a strange idea though, that there were others before Simon. That there might be others after him.

Erik raises a dark eyebrow at him. "You thought he was alone - the only one?"

"No," Wilhelm admits, "I just - I knew he wasn't the first. But I did think he'd be the last." His voice is tighter than he'd anticipated, a fierce curl of protectiveness that’s obvious even to himself.

"You feel bad for him, little brother?" Erik leans against the table, looks him dead in the eye.

Wilhelm shakes his head, tries not to let his voice betray him.

Then, Erik sighs. "Simon doesn't exist in isolation - not any more than you and I do, at least. He's part of an evolutionary continuum, version 12.8 to be exact. Every version gets a little bit better, a little bit closer to that all-consuming fear. The androids that'll make the human race obsolete."

Wilhelm cracks a weak smile despite himself. He rolls the thought around in his mind like a marble. "So - do you think he's it? You know - singularity?"

There are a few beats of silence, nothing touching the moment except for the sound of their breathing, even though Wilhelm feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest. He wants to know the answer almost as badly as he doesn't.

"I don't know," Erik says at last. He shoots Wilhelm a strange look, "Shouldn't you be telling me?"

"Fair enough," Wilhelm reasons, cocking his head. "Anyway, what about facial expressions?"

"Christ," Erik shakes his head, runs a hand through his salt and pepper hair, huffing a laugh. "He really does make you emotional doesn't he." Wilhelm flushes despite himself, "I hacked everything," Erik says abruptly.

Wilhelm blinks, "You - "

"I took all the data pouring in from cameras, cell-phones, every single one, across the globe - and redirected it through social media. Gives you a limitless supply of human facial and vocal interaction. Simon's mind is made out of structured gel - do you know what that does, Wille?"

Wilhelm shakes his head, "I don't know what any of this does to be honest."

"Don't exactly blame you," Erik shrugs casually. He sets the skull on the table, before he pinches it with two fingers. Wilhelm watches in fascination as the gel keeps its form even after Erik lets go, hardening into its new shape. "This is state of the art stuff, hasn't been released to the public yet. Structured gel is a new building material my company found a few years ago. Earlier AI models always used circuitry, but we had to get away from that. Our minds don't necessarily work in sequences; it'd be inaccurate, simplistic. AI minds need to be able to restructure and rearrange at a molecular level, but still hold their structure when required. For example, Simon’s mind holds still for memories, but shifts for thinking."

Wilhelm reaches down to poke at the skull. It feels like Jell-O, but tougher somehow, more durable. "What about the software?"

Erik smirks, "You're a thinking man, Wilhelm. Why don't you give me your best guess?"

"Social media," Wilhelm guesses. Then, he huffs a breath of laughter. “I guess, since you need to filter his data, social media is perfect - it gives you the ability to work with dense graphs based on familiarity rather than raw data from search engines. Most companies use social media to map out profits, what items are popular, who's trending.” At Erik’s encouraging nod, he continues. “It's a map of people's thoughts. But not just not a map - it's - it's more like a - blueprint. Because it's not what they're thinking, but how they're thinking, isn't it? It makes it so that Simon can be fluid and patterned, but also impulsive and chaotic."

Erik gives him an appraising look, clearly impressed. "Well done, Wilhelm. I hope this'll help you in future sessions."

Wilhelm stills, hand faltering where he reached for the gel skull again. "What do you mean?"

"I'm showing you this so you'll remember," Erik's gaze is cool, collected, casual, but it makes Wilhelm feel like he's been dunked in ice water. "Simon is not a boy. By definition, he has no gender, no sexuality, no identity. He's synthetic gel and hydraulics."

Wille averts his gaze from Erik to the skull on the operating table.

“A machine.”

[spennufall]

find my way back home tonight

"So, that happened." He breathed into his microphone, returning to his show with shaky legs. Wille was there. Wille was watching. Wille showed his undying support very publicly, exposing himself to the eyes of thousands, just to make Simon's little show even more special.

Oh fuck he loved him so much.

✄┈┈

Simon Eriksson's singing career starts with a tour, a tour to which his beloved boyfriend can't go. It's sad, but it's fine, there will be other shows, other tours, for Wille to show Simon just how much he supports him. Right?

Singer!Simon & Ex-Prince!Wilhelm • Fluff • Established relationship • Thank you Edmar?

[spennufall]

skin cleared, depression cured, crops watered, all thanks to 🙏Edmar Performing Simon's Song Together In London In 2025🙏

[spennufall]

Yours for the taking: chapter 2

"Good boy. Step back, back against the wall." He gestures as he comes down the stairs after flicking the lights on.

Slightly blinded by the sudden neon lights, Wilhelm obeys, stepping back until he feels his heel scrape against the wall. The guy comes down the last step and walks up to him, keeping a safe distance between them. Only then Wilhelm notices how small the guy actually is: he even have to tilt his head up to look him in the eye.

"Hope your head hurts."

Kidnapper!Simon • Crown Prince Wilhelm • Angst • Hurt/Comfort • Organized crime

Read from the beginning on ao3 here.

[spennufall]

A little Christmas kiss 💜🎄✨

[spennufall]

YOUNG ROYALS 1x04 › 3x01

[spennufall]

[podfic] Komdu um jólin

A big THANK YOU to spennufall who allowed us to record the podfic for the fanfic "Komdu um jólin"!

Summary: "Hiii there! I really like your bow, did you pick it yourself?" The girl scrunched her nose a little, and nodded. Her hand went up to replace the accessory on her ponytail. "It's shiny." She explained, as if Simon couldn't see the little glitters on it. "Oh that's soooo cool!! I wish my hat was shiny too!" Simon gestured to his hat with an exaggered pout. It was working, as the little girl gave a little smile. "Ah but I'm impolite, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Simon, nice to meet you! What's your name, Little Miss Shiny Bow?" "Elizabet, but my friends call me Lita." She answered, finally stepping from behind the woman. ---- While working a seasonal job as a Christmas elf at the mall, Simon met a peculiar little girl. What he hadn't expected was how well she got along with his own kid... nor how very nice on the eyes her father was. Oh, but he was single as well, how convenient was that?

Length: 02:29:07 streaming + download

Follow the 💜💜 to the podfic

[spennufall]

So I saw some talk about Mermaid Wilmon a little while ago and it reminded me of a thought I’ve had many times before, Wille and Ariel are so similar 😂

Prince/princess with a bad relationship to their parent who’s also the monarch. They’re unhappy with the current circumstances and dreaming about a different life. They fall in love with someone who is considered “wrong” for them. There’s a lot of pressure on them but they rebel against it to pursue love.

And now I’ve used this as an excuse to Disneyfy Wilmon. And also I’ve always liked drawing mermaids so I’m happy 😁✨

For @youngroyals-events yr week. “Fantasy AU”

[spennufall]

u can take drawing all of Edvin’s beauty marks and acne out of MY COLD! DEAD! HANDS!

[spennufall]

short hair truthers mightve had a point