Chapter Text
[Y/N] had never expected a promotion. Let alone one to Grand Admiral of the entire German Navy. So, when he, in 1939, was promoted to said position by then-Grand Admiral Erich Raeder, he was shocked, confused, terrified, and honestly overwhelmed.
The night before meeting his fleet, he didn't sleep. Couldn't sleep. Just lay there staring at the ceiling of his quarters, the too-big uniform hanging on the door like a reminder of how in over his head he was. The leather collar around his neck felt heavier than usual, the constant pressure both comforting and suffocating at the same time.
"You'll be meeting your fleet tomorrow," Raeder had said, like it was no big deal. Like he wasn't about to throw a seventeen-year-old kid into a room full of living warships who could probably snap him in half without thinking about it.
The walk to the meeting hall felt like a death march. His escort - some nameless officer who kept glancing at him like he was a curiosity - led him through corridors that seemed to stretch on forever. Each step echoed off the walls, his breathing shallow and quick. The uniform hung loose on his small frame, the sleeves too long, the shoulders too broad. He looked like a kid playing dress-up, and everyone knew it.
The double doors loomed ahead, oak and brass and intimidating as hell.
"Ready, sir?" the officer asked.
No. God no. Never in a million years.
"Yes," he lied.
The doors opened.
Holy shit.
They were all there. All of them. Standing in what looked like a loose formation, eight pairs of eyes immediately locking onto him. The room suddenly felt about ten degrees hotter.
"Guten Tag, Commander," came a warm, motherly voice from the center of the group. Friedrich der Große stepped forward, and [Y/N] felt his brain short-circuit. She was tall, elegant, with black hair that caught the light and a smile that was probably meant to be reassuring but just made him more nervous. "My, you're even younger than I expected. Such a small thing to carry such responsibility."
Before he could stammer out a response, a cheerful voice piped up from the side. "Wow, he really is tiny! Like a little doll!" Prinz Heinrich bounced forward, practically vibrating with energy. "Are you sure you're really an Admiral? You look like you should be in school!"
"Heinrich," came a calm, measured voice. Agir stood with her arms crossed, giving Heinrich a look. "Perhaps we should let the Commander speak before overwhelming him."
"Oh, but he's just so cute!" Prinz Eugen's voice was like silk, dripping with amusement. She stepped closer, her grin widening as she watched his face turn red. "Look at those cheeks! And that blush! Oh, this is going to be fun."
[Y/N] opened his mouth to say something - anything - but no words came out. His hands were shaking, and he could feel sweat beading on his forehead despite the cool air.
"Fascinating," came a clinical voice from the back. Roon stepped forward, her eyes bright with interest. "Elevated heart rate, perspiration, trembling extremities. Classic anxiety response. I wonder what other reactions we might observe under different stimuli."
"Roon," Mainz said softly, moving to stand beside the smaller commander. "You're making him nervous."
"I'm merely observing," Roon replied, pulling out what looked like a small notebook. "This is valuable data."
"Can we just get this over with?" Tirpitz spoke for the first time, not even looking up from examining her nails. "I have better things to do than stand around watching a kid have a panic attack."
The voices were overlapping now, a cacophony of different personalities all talking at once. Friedrich trying to be motherly, Heinrich asking rapid-fire questions, Eugen making comments that made his face burn, Roon taking notes like he was some kind of experiment, Mainz trying to calm everyone down, Agir attempting to restore order, and Tirpitz just looking bored.
[Y/N] felt the familiar tightness in his chest, the way his vision started to tunnel when the anxiety got too much. His breathing was getting shallow, quick little gasps that weren't bringing in enough air. The collar around his neck felt like it was choking him instead of grounding him.
"That's enough."
The voice cut through the chaos like a blade. Everyone went silent.
Bismarck stepped forward, and [Y/N] finally got his first real look at her. She was tall, imposing, with blonde hair that seemed to catch light like spun gold. Her black uniform was pristine, every line sharp and precise. The rigging around her - those massive gun turrets floating in the air like they were part of her - made her look like what she was: a walking battleship.
But it was her eyes that caught him. Calm, focused, with an intensity that seemed to see straight through him. Not judging, not mocking, just... assessing.
"Guten Tag, Kommandant," she said, her voice steady and sure. "I am Bismarck."
He tried to speak, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "O-oh- uhm- G-Guten Tag."
She stepped closer, and he could smell something like metal and ocean spray. "You are overwhelmed," she stated, not a question but a simple observation. "This is understandable. Command is a heavy burden."
"I... I don't know if I can do this," he whispered, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
"You will," she said with absolute certainty. "Because you must. And because we will ensure it."
The room had gone completely quiet now, all the other girls watching this exchange with various expressions of surprise, curiosity, and in Friedrich's case, something that looked like approval.
"Perhaps," Bismarck continued, "we should begin again. Properly this time."
She turned to face the others, and [Y/N] could have sworn he saw something like steel in her gaze. "The Kommandant is young, yes. Inexperienced, certainly. But he is our commanding officer, and he will be treated as such. We are here to serve, not to overwhelm."
There was a moment of silence, and then Friedrich smiled - a real, warm smile this time. "Of course, Bismarck. You're absolutely right." She turned to [Y/N] with a gentle expression. "Forgive us, Commander. We were... enthusiastic. Allow me to introduce everyone properly."
And just like that, the chaos settled into something manageable. The introductions began again, this time with Bismarck standing just close enough that he could feel her presence like an anchor in a storm.