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fangirl-dot-com · 7 months

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Across Every Universe - Part 2

Well, I didn't expect this work to get this long. It was only supposed to be short but then I worked on it all day and for multiple hours on end?? I guess I just enjoy this concept so much! These are basically the stories I wanted to put in last time, but they needed their own chapter to truly shine.

I know people asked for Arthur and reader romance, but To Do Is To Dare has always been a racing fic first and romance second. I tried to add in all the people I could without going crazy with the plot line or it would have gotten out of hand (or more than it already is). There is a lot of Max and Charles (my two favorite boys on the grid).

If anyone has anything against Lestappen - there's the door :)

Please enjoy :)

Earth 33891

“Please stand for his Majesty King Max Emilian Verstappen, King of the Netherlands and Prince of Orange.”

Max always hated these announcements. Like, why did they have to always say his middle name and all the titles that came with it? He put on a gentle smile and waved to the crowds around him. Thankfully, his dressers had decided to forgo the kingly robes and opted for a nice suit with his pins. Definitely fitting for the Dutch Grand Prix.

This would be his ninth to attend since taking the throne at 18-years-old after his father passed away. The kind always enjoyed seeing the Orange Army at the home race.

After greeting everyone, he was led to the special box. Apparently, more than one royal had decided to attend as well. Max’s shoulders loosened when his eyes landed on a familiar figure.

“Charles!”

Charles Marc Herve Perceval Leclerc, The Sovereign Prince of the Principality of Monaco. Max was always glad that his mother only chose one middle name for him instead of three.

The prince’s green eyes widened at the sight of the Dutchman. He waved off whoever he was speaking to and all but glided across the room. The two forwent the formalities and brought each other into a hug.

Max leaned back a bit to look the Monegasque in the eye.

“What are you doing here? Monaco not enough for you?”

There was a playful glint in his eyes as Charles rolled his. The brunet gestured to a plush couch in the corner, one that Max was excited to sit in.

Charles began to speak, a small smile on his face, “Well as you know, my brother is currently dating one of the drivers on the grid. And it is her home race so Arthur wanted to come watch.”

Max nodded, understanding perfectly. He knew exactly who Charles was talking about.

Y/n L/n, the only female driver, who currently was working on her fourth World Champion.

“And where is your brother now?”

“He’s in the garage,” Charles rolled his eyes. He had wanted to go, but an ambassador had insisted that he needed to talk to the prince.

“Why don’t we head there. I always want to say hello to my race winner.”

Now, Max and Y/n had a very loving sibling relationship. The king had watched her grow up karting and made sure to sponsor her and support her through her career. Without his support, the girl would not have been able to continue. Yet, when you put the royal Dutch crest on your Formula 3 car, someone has to know that it means something.

This would be her 4th season in Red Bull, having been 19 when she joined in 2019. She was only 20 when she won her first World Championship, breaking the record for the youngest ever to dominate the sport.

Now she was 24 and is on a path to win her fourth in only five races if she keeps up the winning streak. Max was only older by 3 years, yet he watched over her like a very protective older brother.

He and Charles had made their way down to the pitlane, much to their advisors’ chagrin. They passed by the Mercedes garage to say hello to King Lewis Hamilton III and then George Russell, Duke of Sussex. The two Brits had been friends or well, colleagues, with the other two reigning monarchs for quite some time. They were currently backing Kimi Antonelli and Mick Schumacher, the current driver line up for Mercedes.

Right next to the silver garage stood a very orange and bright one. Max was excited to see Lando Norris, Duke of York also in attendance. He was very close with the two Aussie drivers, Oscar Piastri and Daniel Ricciardo.

Down the line was Williams, who was attending to a very eager Logan Sargeant, the President of the United States’ kid. Max was fond of the blond and often said hello to him whenever he got the chance in diplomatic settings.

But finally, they were able to reach the big navy garage. Max could definitely pick up Arthur’s almost French accent everywhere. But, his ears were tuned to the sound of your Dutch accent that was similar to his.

“Geitje!” he called out, finding your blond hair against the navy racing suit.

You looked over your shoulder, pausing the conversation with your boyfriend. You rolled your eyes when you saw Max in his kingly splendor. You took a few steps toward the fellow Dutch and gave him a hug.

“I told you to quit calling me that. I’m not a kid anymore, or was never a goat for that matter.”

Charles took this moment to catch up with his brother.

Max looked down at you fondly. “You’ll always be that small kid whose suit was two sizes too big on her.”

You honestly wanted to cry, but you kept the tears in. There was a race that you needed to win.

“Are you going to give me my trophy this year?”

“Don’t I every year?”

You looked up in mock thought. “Well, there was that one year that you had appendicitis and your mom gave me my trophy.”

Max lightly nudged you. “That was one year, let it go.”

You grumbled. “Well I hope that someone won’t break my trophy this year.”

Your teammate, Ollie Bearman, popped his head up from where he was looking at his tyres.

“It was one year Y/n! One year!”

You giggled at the disgruntled yells from the British Driver. Ollie had been one of your favorite teammates.

Your first year, you were paired with the golden boy himself, Sebastian Vettel, before he retired with one last championship. And then your first year as world champion, you were paired with Oscar Piastri before he left for McLaren. Ollie had been your teammate for the past two years, but you had a feeling that he’d stick around for more than a year.

You got the heads up that the race would be starting soon. You turned back to Max.

“Are you staying here or do you have to go?”

Max had a mischievous glint in his eyes and was about to reply before being interrupted.

“Actually, their royal highnesses need to return to the royal box.”

Max fought the urge to roll his eyes. You only laughed and pushed him in the direction of the exit.

“Go, I’ll see you at the top.”

“Blijf veilig, alsjeblieft,” Max softly pleaded.

He really hated that you put your life on the line every weekend for the job that you loved. He remembers the first time you had a terrifying crash when you were unconscious until they got you to the hospital. He was told that you probably wouldn’t wake up. However, you defied the odds and were back in the seat for the next race.

You responded, just as gentle, “Voor jou, mijn koning, altijd.”

When Max left, he turned around one last time and witnessed you giving Arthur a quick kiss before he put your helmet on. It was something that the two of you had been doing since you started dating almost two years ago.

The Dutch king was back to walking with Charles to the box.

“So, when is he proposing.”

He hadn’t expected an answer, but was surprised when he got one.

Charles gave Max a look. “They’re actually going to a restaurant, and he plans to propose tonight.”

Max’s eyes widened at the confession. But, he got over it quickly before gently smiling. You deserved happiness, and you found that in his closest friend’s brother.

“So will she have to stop racing for royal duties?” the blond questioned.

Charles shook his head. “Non. Arthur will step down.”

Max clapped him on the back. “Guess you and Alexandra need to start with some heirs huh?”

Charles squinted up at him. “Says the man who currently needs to propose as well.”

The prince got the last laugh as he left Max stuttering for a comeback.

You won the race like Max knew you would. The king watched as you held your head up high as the Dutch National Anthem played loudly through the crowds. He saw the crowds of orange, the only ones rivaling the red Tifosi at Monza.

The crowds were shouting, “De Langverwachte! Onze kleine leeuw!”

The Long Awaited.

Their Little Lion.

Max had always wished for a champion from his home country. Something to ode back to the sport he loved as a kid. His wish came true in the form of you. People talked as the king publicly backed the only female driver on the grid. But he knew that you were something special. He was there as you took the championship from Vettel in the last lap of the 2020 season fair and square. Obviously he was thankful that there was no safety car to ruin your race of any kind. You had coped brilliantly against your older teammate and your talent truly showed.

Max was given the signal to head out with the hand painted trophy. He was honestly kind of scared to drop it. But he made it across the stage and handed it out to you.

You proudly took the trophy from Max after you bowed in respect. He may have been your friend, but he was your king first.

The ceramic trophy was held high once it was safely in your hands. Jokingly you hugged it tight as you gently stepped down off the podium. Ollie gawked at your childishness before spraying you with the champagne.

With trophy set down a nice ways away, you took your own bottle. Except, instead of spraying Ollie, you pointed it at Max, whose jaw was on the floor as you came after him with the liquid.

If you were having fun now, you wouldn’t expect what was coming later that night.

And you said yes.

Earth 12399

“Zusje!”

Your eyes widened at the familiar squeaky and young voice. You turned your whole body away from your race engineer to only be taken down in the knees. Once you were on the floor, you laps was immediately filled with a small body that had bleach blond hair and bright blue eyes.

“Maxy, Ik heb je gemist Kleintje!”

“Uh Y/n, is everything good?” Charles’s voice sounded from above. You stared back at your teammate in the red overalls. You grabbed under the child’s arms and hoisted him up along with yourself.

“Yep! Charles meet Max. Max meet Charlie.”

Max’s small eyes widened before he tucked himself in your neck. Your hand came up and rubbed his back as you cooed. You turned back to Charles.

“He’s a bit shy in front of his favorite driver.”

You poked Max’s side and his giggles filled the room. The small one turned his head and peered at the Monegasque whose eyes were wide, looking at the child in his teammate’s arms.

“Didn’t know you had a kid.”

Your jaw dropped at his statement.

“He’s not my kid, idiot. He’s my brother,” you hissed, lightly bouncing Max up and down as you swayed side to side.

“Oooohhhh.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah oh. I’m younger than you.”

“One night stand?”

“Charles!”

The brunet laughed loudly, making Max giggle a bit with him. You looked down into his blue eyes.

“Oh so you think that’s funny hm? I’m getting bullied.”

Max only giggled more before pointing at Charles.

“Rari?”

You lovingly stared at him in your arms. “Yep, Rari.” You saw how Charles was staring at Max. “You want to hold him?”

Charles dropped everything (only his water bottle) and reached out to take Max. Once he was in Charles’s arms, Max immediately rested his head on his shoulder and gripped the red suit. You smiled fondly at the two.

“He’s so small,” Charles whispered after seeing the kid’s eyes close in slumber.

You ruffled the spiky blond hair. “Yeah, he’s only 3 though. Full of wonder.”

“Y/n!”

Ah, there was your mother. You looked over and saw Sophie walking with your other sister Victoria. Thankfully, your dad was nowhere to be found. After you found out what he had done to Max, you put in a restraining order against him immediately.

It was a hard discussion with your mom when you told her that she needed to divorce him. Tears were shed and hearts were broken. But, you never wanted to see another bruise on your younger brother again.

It was fine if he did that to you. But to Max?

Jos wouldn’t stand a chance against your anger. He had shaped you to be like him.

A racer. A winner. The best.

But being the best wasn’t supposed to be the most important anymore. And if he wanted you to be like him, then he’ll get his own anger thrown back into his face. You remembered how your fist met his eye after you found Max alone with him one night. An ugly purple thing covered Max’s tiny wrist and there was a scratch on his face.

You had just returned home from a triple header and wanted to surprise your family. Only, you came home to Max’s screams of terror and Jos Verstappen yelling. You didn’t think, you just did. Sophie and Victoria returned home to multiple police cars and an ambulance in front of the house. When they finally were told what happened, they found you covering Max’s body with your arms as you spoke to one of the paramedics. A blanket was draped around your shoulders and a bruise was forming on your face as well.

After that, you moved your entire family to Monaco with you. Your house was plenty bit and you only shared it with Charles whenever he came over to play FIFA. But now, whenever he wanted to play, you insisted on going to his house.

It might have been to protect your family. Or it might have had to do with a certain handsome brother that Charles had.

Definitely the first one.

Hence why Charles had never met Max beforehand. But that also didn’t stop the little gremlin from choosing Charles as his favorite driver and not his sister.

It’s not like you were bitter or anything.

You walked toward your family and gave the two women a hug.

“I’m glad that you could come today!” you told them, truly happy at their arrival. It wasn’t like it was a big race. You had already won the championship last week, which sadly they weren’t able to make it. But Max was still up past his bedtime when you got home after. The kid sleepily muttered that he was glad you won, even though you had beaten Charles. Yet, you reminded him that Charles had won the year before and it was sissy’s turn.

Sophie looked at Max in Charles’s arms. “He’s so comfortable. I honestly thought he’d be scared of men after what happened.”

Victoria nodded in agreement.

You crossed your arms. “I think that Max knows that dad wasn’t a good man. And well, he still loves Lando though.”

“Is that Max?”

Speaking of.

Max’s head jerked up from Charles’s shoulder at the familiar voice. His little head swerved in the direction of the papaya clad driver.

“Lanno!”

Max started to squirm in the captive arms. Charles quickly set him down, not wanting him to fall. Max immediately ran to the Briton, who picked him up with ease. At the sight of the two, Charles pouted.

You knocked him with your shoulder. “Don’t’ worry, you’re still his favorite. He bought Max a toy McLaren for his birthday and Max demanded that I paint it red and add a 16 on the side.”

Charles seemed to gleam with pride at the confession.

“Don’t tell Lando though. He’d be devastated.”

What Lando didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

“Hey little man. You ready to watch the race?”

Max’s head bobbed quickly.

“Are you going to watch Lanno win?”

At that, Max shook his head making Lando’s eyes widened.

“Little Verstappen I am hurt.” Lando clutched his hand to his heart in mock hurt. Max only stared at him while the McLaren driver put on a bit of a show.

Charles piped up from beside you. “Max, is Charlie going to win?”

Max, once again, shook his head. Now that made you confused, because Max always cheered for Charles. You cocked your head as you looked at your brother.

“Then who Maxy?”

The boy shyly pointed at you before muttering, “Zusje gaat jullie allemaal verslaan.”

Not that made you laugh out loud, causing even more confusion to the two male drivers. You covered your mouth as you continued to laugh. Sophie and Victoria laughing as well.

You smirked at your rival and teammate.

“He said I’m going to kick your asses.”

Max gasped as he heard your words.

“Bad words!”

Max pouted as he was put down by Lando. His little legs ran to you and his arms stretched out wanting you to pick him up. You squatted and scooped him up. Your arms tightened around him as he tried his best to hug you.

“Sorry for the bad words kid.”

“’S ok,” he slurred, getting even more tired. It was definitely his nap time. And it was time to get in your car. You handed him back to Sophie, who gave you a kiss on your head as you stooped. You gave a quick hug to Victoria before going back to kiss Max’s head.

“I’ll win for you ok?”

Obviously, he couldn’t hear you, but you would say it anyway. You turned away from your family to get ready.

“Going soft on me L/n?” Lando quipped, making his way out of your garage.

You discreetly flipped him off, to which he laughed at as he left. It took about 30 minutes to get in the car and get everything ready. You swerved your head, making sure the helmet was tight. Your eyes flitted about the garage and caught sight of your family again. Max was now wide awake and waving at you.

Your gloved hand reached out and displayed your fingers wide. The little boy reached over in his mom’s arms and clapped your hand with his small one. You were given the signal that it was time and drove off once Sophie was out of the way.

Her and Max watched as you rounded the corner in your red Ferrari, out of sight.

Sophie leaned down and kissed her youngest’s head.

“Mijn baby, zal zus winnen?”

Max’s small voice was just loud enough for her to hear.

“Ja mama, sij is kampioen.”

Earth 9596

(btw - I made the max pic because no one has good edits of him in a ferrari suit)

“Scuderia Ferrari Signs Y/n L/n for the 2024 Season”

“Ferrari Mistake? The Formula 1 Team Signs the Youngest Driver to Date”

“Ferrari Becomes the First Formula 1 Team to Sign Female Driver”

“Former F1 Champion Lorenzo Alessandrino Backs Goddaughter as Her Race Engineer”

“How Will Verstappen React to His Younger Teammate on the Track?”

You hadn’t known what to expect when you arrived at the paddock first thing on Saturday morning. You had convinced Lorenzo to bring you early so you could at least avoid some of the crowds, if not all. However, it seemed like everyone else liked that plan as well, and the paddock was full.

You hung back near Enzo as the two of you walked side by side. Your hands gripped your backpack straps hard, turning your knuckles almost stark white. Thankfully, your sunglasses kept your wide and scared eyes from the public. It wasn’t that you were scared of people. It’s what you thought that they thought about you that made you nervous.

Just 17 and baby faced.

Something that wasn’t heard of in 2024. Yet, with older drivers retiring back and forth, the FIA had to make new changes to deal with the need of rookie drivers. Hence why Lorenzo pushed to have Ferrari sign you as early as possible. You basically went from karting, to Formula 2 and didn’t even start your second season.

It came as a shock when Lewis Hamilton finally retired after only one year at Ferrari. You had thought that he’d want to get one more championship to make it to 9. But, life throws curveballs and it was headed straight to you.

Now you had to face your new teammate, a champion himself, Max Verstappen. You let out a sigh of relief when you noticed that he was talking to Charles Leclerc and Fernando Alonso. The two black Mercedes polos stood out in contrast to Max’s red one. You took a quick glance at the two drivers and realized that they were already watching you.

Your cheeks heated up as you quickened your steps to get to the garage faster. Once you were in the safety of the garage, you let out a deep sigh.

Lorenzo looked at you with a sad smile. He knew you were going to be overwhelmed for the entire day. He took his backpack off and reached down in, fingers feeling for your headphones. He took them out and handed them to you.

You immediately put them on, connected them to your phone, turned on the music, and got to work on your racing journal. You wanted to go over your notes before the race. While you were distracted, Enzo took a little walk, trying to find some coffee.

He ended up walking past the group of three drivers and smiled at Charles. The Italian knew of him growing up and was excited to see him in a team that gave him a good championship winning car.

He nodded his head toward your new teammate. “Max.”

Max’s eyes lightened at the familiar face. “Enzo!”

The two bro-hugged before parting, letting Enzo greet the two Merc drivers. When he was done, Max had a teasing attitude.

“Can’t convince you to stay as my engineer? Don’t get me wrong, I love GP, but you knew me better.”

Enzo smiled and shook his head. “No can do. Gotta take care of my kid.”

Fernando entered the conversation. “Where is she? We saw her walking but then she disappeared.”

The older man scratched his head. “Yeah, she tends to do that. She’s a bit nervous.”

Charles scoffed. “I’ll say. They shouldn’t have said anything until Wednesday. Sky Sports announced it way too early.”

The Monegasque had something similar happen to him when he first joined Mercedes. It had all been planned that he would take Valtteri Bottas’s seat mid-season. Yet, Sky Sports announced it before Mercedes had a chance to even say that Bottas had wanted to retire early due to an illness. The media had made Charles into a seat-stealing villain his first season.

The engineer nodded sadly. “I think she’s also nervous about the team.”

Max looked at him with a shocked expression. “The team?”

Enzo waved his hands. “She has full confidence. Y/n’s a bit nervous about trying to be on your level Max.”

Well, that didn’t settle well with the Dutchman. Great, he was excited to have such a young teammate: someone who he could get along with and help them grow in the sport. But now, you were afraid of him?

“She’s not scared of you Max, just nervous.”

Oh. He said that out loud.

Max glanced back at the garage. “Can I go talk to her.”

Enzo nodded before handing him a pen. “I forgot to give this to her, she’ll be looking for it. You don’t mind giving it to her right?”

“Not at all,” he responded, thankful for something that could break the ice between the two of you.

Max grasped the pen and made his way to the overly bright red garage. He really wished Ferrari would take a page out of Mercedes’s book and make everything black. But no, they had to show off the corsa rosso red.

You were too busy writing some notes down, with the wrong pen, to notice Max’s shoes now in your line of sight. The Dutchman lightly nudged your own shoe, which had your head jerking up to look at him.

Your eyes widened and your hands reached to pull your headphones off.

Max only smiled down at you. He thought that you looked like a scared mouse. He wondered if you were quiet like one as well.

“Mind if I sit?” he asked.

You could only shake your head no and scoot over as Max sat down on the concrete near you. The two of you sat in silence as you continued to scribble. Max suddenly remembered the pen in his hand.

“Here. Enzo wanted me to give this to you.”

Your fingers lightly touched his as you grabbed it from him.

To Max, you also reminded him of his sister at this age. Shy, meek, quiet. But he had seen your videos and your impressiveness on the track. Your overtakes were nothing to be overlooked. He heard you sigh as the pen now nicely glided over the pages.

The Dutchman let his eyes wander over the pages. He noticed that you were even taking notes on him as well.

You didn’t look at him, but you spoke, “If you break a bit later on turn 4, you can cut off another tenth.”

Your voice gave Max whiplash as he wasn’t expecting you to talk to him without being prompted. His mind ran as he tried to remember turn 4. When he did the calculations he was surprised to find that you were correct.

“How did you..”

“I watched your onboards from last season. You’re very, what’s the word,” you gave him a smirk, “predictable.”

Max’s jaw dropped, which caused you to laugh a bit. Max, although shocked, was glad that you were coming out of your shell a bit.

He leaned over to whisper, “Are you overwhelmed with the red as much as I am.”

You smiled as you whispered back, “It is positively draining. Why can’t they do black like Mercedes?”

Max threw his hands up. “That’s what I’ve been saying.”

You pretended to think. “What if we gang up on them. They can’t resist both drivers.”

Max put on a weird accent, making his voice higher. “It’s either change the garage and everything to black or we walk.”

That made you snort which caused Max to wheeze.

Enzo was just on his way back with two coffees (both for him) when he heard the sound of you laughs mixed with Max’s. He smiled fondly at the two drivers. He took a sip before putting on his bright red headphones that he needed for qualifying. He coughed a bit, but it was soon over. Nothing like the sickness that he barely beat back in 2019. He was thankful that he got to continue to watch you grow.

Max asked, “How far do you think you’ll get in qualifying?”

You thought for a moment. “Uh, I hope to make it to Q2 if possible.”

The Dutchman lifted his hand to ruffle your hair. Your hands swatted at him as you pouted.

“I think you can get farther.”

You only shrugged. “We’ll see.”

The car was definitely your safe space. You felt as though you could finally breathe easier.

“Radio check please.”

“Loud and clear Enzo.”

“Ok, let’s get this bread.”

You shook your head as you sat in the car. “Please never say that again.”

Much to your and the team’s delight, you made it past Q1 and Q2. And you ended Q3 in the second row in P3. Max had just missed pole by mere hundredths. Charles Leclerc always had scarily good one lappers in the third session.

Max gave you a giant hug at the end of the session, very glad at your positioning.

As he had his arms around you, he thought to himself.

“Yeah. You were going to be great.”

Earth 331649

The big letters stood out to Max as his eyes began to water.

“Not Applicable for Adoption at this Time” was all the top said. He hadn’t bothered to read the rest. He knew what it was going to say. It’s what every letter said for the past few months.

They weren’t approved.

They traveled too much.

There weren’t any in their preferred age group that were adoptable right now.

They wouldn’t be able to take care of a baby.

They were…Max didn’t even want to mention the word.

He glanced at the gold band that adorned his ring finger on his left hand. The sight made his eyes water more. The paper was quickly crumpled and thrown to the side. The Dutchman leaned forward and put his hands over his face and just sobbed.

They had been trying for so long. The conversation had started two years ago as they lied in bed one night. They were nearing the ends of their careers, but they hadn’t wanted to wait until they were retired. They were sure in their marriage enough to where they both could handle a baby in their lives.

A mini them running around, playing with Jimmy and Sassy. The thought was too much to bear right now though.

The door clicked but Max hadn’t heard, he just continued to sob.

“Amore, I’m back from the shop. They had the pastries that you really liked. Amore?”

Max started sobbing harder. Before he heard knew it, strong arms wrapped around his shoulders. He heard a big sigh as a head rested against his back.

“Another one?”

Max didn’t even reply, but his sobs had subsided into quiet sniffles. Charles glanced over at the crumpled paper that had been tossed to the side. He’s told Max time and time again to wait until he gets home to read them, but the older was always a bit too excited or anxious to wait. He bit his tough, not wanting to say anything that could upset the Dutchman even more.

“It will be all right.”

“Will it?” Max bit back, full of sadness and anger. But, it wasn’t anger at Charles. He was angry at the world.

“It will,” Charles hummed. However, the Monegasque was also getting run down by all the rejection letters. He didn’t know how much more he could take. But, he wanted to be strong for Max. For himself. For their hopeful future child.

“Every time Charlie. Every time, it’s always a different excuse.”

“Our time will come.”

“But what if it doesn’t? We aren’t getting any younger Charles.”

The Monegasque harshly inhaled. He stopped rubbing Max’s back. Although, he really didn’t know when he started.

He went to say something, yet his phone rang loudly, breaking the silence of the room. Charles muttered something about wanting to hang up, but his breath hitched at the sight of the name at the top of his phone. His thumb had never pressed the answer button.

He quickly put the call on speaker.

“Bonjour?”

“Ah, Mr. Verstappen?”

“This is he.”

“Is your husband here with you?”

Max perked up at the question. His eyes were bloodshot, but he was now paying attention. He scooted even closer to Charles, face almost in the phone.

Charles chuckled at Max’s closeness.

“Oui, he is here.”

“Ok, so we just got a call from the Princess Grace Hospital. We think you want to come here for this.”

Max gulped before whispering. “It is what we think it is?”

Charles held his breath as he and Max waited for the answer.

“Why don’t you come find out.”

The two of them could hear the playfulness as the their adoption agent hung up the phone. They looked into each other’s eyes before they dashed around, getting their shoes on. Max almost tripped as he hopped on one foot, his shoe getting caught on his finger. Charles chuckled as he bent to tie his own shoe.

Max was halfway out the door, still waiting.

“Come on Charlie.”

“Mon amore, are you forgetting something?”

Max patted his pockets and realized he forgot the key that were now dangling on Charles’s finger.

“Oh.”

Charles rolled his eyes as he walked toward the door, grabbing Max’s waste as he walked. The Dutchman quickly followed him to the Monegasque’s Ferrari Purosangue. He bought the SUV when he and Max put in their first adoption profile.

Max huffed as he noticed that Charles was going below the speed limit.

“Baby, can you maybe, hurry up?”

Charles only hummed as a reply. He did step on the gas a bit, but the Monaco speeds were slow as it. It wasn’t their fault that they drove ridiculously fast cars and his husband was currently high strung.

Charles put his hand on Max’s thigh and started to rub small circles, which in the long run did help Max calm down a bit.

The Dutchman had calmed down some by the time they parked in front. Charles started to get out of the car, but Max’s hand grabbed his arm before he got far. Charles recognized the look of fear on his husband’s face. His pointer finger found the golden band on Max’s finger and started to rub it.

“What if- What if- What if it happens again.”

Charles’s eyes drooped a bit at the sadness in Max’s voice.

“But what if it doesn’t?”

A glimmer of hope came back to Max’s eyes as he places a chaste kiss on Charles’s lips.

“Let’s go.”

With an unbuckle of his seatbelt, Max was out the door. Charles had to catch up to Max’s larger steps. His hand soon found Max’s as they walked in. He squeezed three times, and got three in return.

Charles look the lead as they approached the front desk. The lady at the computer had a nice attitude as she gave them a smile when she looked up from her screen.

“May I help you gentlemen?”

“Ah, yes, my husband and I got a call from our adoption agent, Mitch Walker.”

The lady’s eyebrows raised as she started to type on her computer once again. Max bounced in his place, willing the lady to type faster.

“Ah, floor three, room 89.”

“Thank you,” Charles stated, already watching Max walk toward the elevator. He chuckled as he slowly followed, knowing the elevator would arrive when he got there. Inside the contraption, Max read the list of floors.

His finger traced them until he got to the third floor.

“Charlie.”

Charles looked where his finger had landed.

Delivery floor.

Before Charles could react, the elevator doors opened. They both bolted into the hallway.

86.

87.

88.

89.

They both paused in front.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Charles grabbed the nob and slowly twisted. The room was a bit dim and Mitch was standing in the middle of the room. She turned at the sound of the door and a smile made a way on her face.

“Hi guys,” she whispered. She stepped closer and pulled a curtain that cut the room in half.

“Hi,” Charles replied, also whispering.

Mitch put her hands together. “So, we have a little someone who was given up today. If everything goes well, you two might be going home with a baby today.”

Tears welled up in Max’s eyes at her words. He choked down a sob and bit his knuckle.

“I just need you two to wash your hands and then you can meet her.”

Charles whispered, “Her?”

Mitch only nodded.

This time, Charles was the one to let out a small sob. They gingerly walked over to the sink, hands bumping into each other as they rinsed under the water. Once dry, Mitch dragged the curtain back over.

In the middle of the smaller section near a couch, lied a bassinet. With bated breath, Charles and Max peered over. Tears now welling in both their eyes. Max’s finger gently moved towards the baby’s face.

He lightly grazed the soft cheek, causing the baby to squirm. Max had never jerked his hand away from something faster. Charles let out a small and quiet laugh. The baby’s hand was open, inviting Charles to put his finger in the tiny palm.

The baby suddenly curled her fingers around the one finger, eyes suddenly opening. The Dutchman wanted to cry once again. Her green eyes peered up at him. Max’s eyes caught a tuft of hair and he gently pulled back the tiny hat. Blond hair appeared in a small bit. He gently pulled the hat back into place.

His blond hair.

Charles’s green eyes.

Charles turned to Mitch.

“Can I hold her.”

A single nod had Charles scooping the baby in his arms, and he placed her on his chest. His body leaned back just a bit to accommodate her. Max immediately took his phone out and took a picture. He was definitely going to use that as his lock screen picture from now on.

Max watched as Charles sat on the small couch in the corner. Max followed suit and sat next to him.

The baby was looking right at him.

“Hello little one,” he whispered, finding the courage to graze her face once again. A small smile appeared on the girl’s face, but it was short lived. But, Max had seen it and he was happy that it was directed at him.

“-ax, Amore.”

His eyes shot up to Charles’s face.

“Yes?”

The brunet rolled his eyes. “I asked: Do you want to hold her?”

Max could only nod. Charles gently handed her over to his husband and watched as his big hands cradled the baby. One hand was gently placed on her bum and the other on her head. He cooed at the man and baby, seeing tears stream down his face.

Mitch quietly approached the couple. “So, it seems like everything is going well. I can almost read your minds and I got your application approved. It’ll take a while for everything to come in but you are good to take her home.”

Charles stood and gave her a giant hug: big enough for the both of them. She patted Charles’s back before grinning widely again.

“You know, she doesn’t have a name yet.”

Max’s head whipped from the baby to the woman.

“We get to name her?” he questioned, heart filling with so much love. There were so many names that he and Charles had picked out. The first name would be something special, something not used before. The middle names would be in honor of loved ones past and present. And then, the baby would take both last names.

Mitch came over with a certificate and pen in hand.

“Do you two know or do you need a moment?”

Max nodded at Charles and then looked back down at the beautiful green eyes that stared up with him.

Charles did the honors.

“Her name is Y/n Julia Sophie Pascale Antoinette Leclerc-Verstappen.”

Little Y/n. Oh how the world wasn’t ready. But it would welcome her with open arms.

Earth 959589

“Shit!” you yelled, tumbling out of bed. You were late, oh you were so late. Max was going to kill you and you could say goodbye to your seat.

Before the season even started.

You tripped as you pulled on a shoe, face planting back into the bed. Your phone was currently blowing up with notifications as it rested on the side table. You hastily pulled on your Red Bull polo and grabbed your jeans. Your foot got stuck since you put your shoes on first.

Great move Y/n, great move.

You finally got a hand on your phone and answered the call.

“Where are you? Max is close to having an aneurism,” your race engineer hissed through the phone.

“I know Charles, but my alarm never went off!”

Your head was pressing your phone to your shoulder as you talked and walked toward the elevator.

“Just please get here ASAP,” he sighed. You could see the man rubbing his eyebrows, even if you couldn’t see him.

“I’m getting in the car now.”

“You better be thankful. I’ll see you here.”

When you arrived to the paddock, you went directly to the interviews, which you were late for as well. You winced as you walked in front of everyone and sat down, face ablaze in red.

Lando poked your side. At least he went with the polo so you two could be matching some. He leaned over when a question was directed to Arthur.

“Max is going to kill you.” He smirked as he leaned away. Your microphone accidentally picked up the smack to his shoulder. Some eyes landed on you as you tried to duck away.

Arthur looked over at you. “Nice of you to join us champ.”

You shrugged. “My alarm didn’t go off.”

“Sure.”

Your jaw dropped. “Excuse you?”

Before you could get any farther, a journalist asked a question directed toward you.

“Y/n, if I may, how is this season a bit different than last?”

Your eyes looked up as you thought of a good answer. “Uh, well, there was a lot of change within Red Bull this past winter break. My old teammate went to being my team principal. And then he somehow convinced Charles to join as well and be my race engineer.”

A scoff came from Arthur that cause you to lean to look at him.

“Are you all right Leclerc?”

The Monegasque rolled his eyes.

“I would like to have my brother back please.”

“Well, too bad I got him first. And then back to my question. Lando became my teammate and he’s giving me a run for my money.”

Lando smirked at that statement.

“Ah yes, the cheeky little bugger he is. But, I’m really on track for my second championship. Maybe next year I’ll let Lando get one.”

The journalist thanked you for your good answer.

Fortunately the press conference ended after that. Yet, it was unfortunate for you since you could feel Max’s glare from miles away. You stopped, causing Arthur to bump into your back.

“Any chance I can come hide in your driver’s room?”

Arthur shook his head yes, giving you some hope.

“No.”

You visibly deflated as you watched him walk toward the bright red garage.

A sigh left your lips as you stalked toward the garage. Charles gave you a sympathetic look as you walked past. His hand rubbed your shoulder until he gently pushed you toward Max. You winced under the Dutchman’s glare.

“My office Y/n.”

You could only follow him into the office. You took the first seat you passed in front of the large desk. Max rubbed his eyebrows and sighed. But, you panicked.

“I’m so sorry Max. I swore I turned on my alarms last night, but I was up late going over data again because I can’t let the team down again like last race. I know that I can make up the speed. And then my phone was on silent and then I tripped on my shoe and the car got stuck in traffic. I swear I went straight to the conference. I won’t be late again I promise, just please don’t take away my seat.”

Max watched in horror as you lost your composure right in front of him. This monologue only told him that you were truly scared that he’d kick you off the team because of a little DNF last race. His heart dropped as he saw tears stream down your face as you visibly shook.

He stood up quickly and rounded the desk. His hands dropped on your shoulders.

“Kid, kid. Listen to me. You’re not going to lose your seat. I was just worried when you didn’t show up and when you didn’t answer mine or Charles’s calls.”

“Oh.”

Max wanted to laugh. “Yes, oh. Do you remember all the times I used to show up late? The times that Charles showed up late as well?”

You let out a chuckle as you remembered both Ferrari drivers would show up a bit late. No one ever seemed to mind. You let out a sigh of relief.

Max stood up and walked toward the door. “Now, let’s go out there and what do we do?”

“Kick names and take ass!”

Max rolled his eyes. “Sure kid. Sure.”

Earth 1218 - Present Earth

You gasped as you sat up in your bed.

“Kid?” Max questioned, head popping up from the couch. Vegas had been super early again and you and Max didn’t want to go back to the hotel when you had FP2 soon. So, the two of you just curled up in his driver’s room. His voice was groggy as he had just gotten up from an interrupted nap as well.

You clutched your head and groaned.

“I had such weird dreams.”

“Oh. Tell me?” Max’s head was already back down on his pillow.

“You were a king, and then you were my younger brother?”

Max snorted but let you continue. He knew that you wouldn’t remember in the morning anyway.

“And then you were my teammate at Ferrari and Charles drove for Mercedes, Enzo was there. Oh, and then you and Charles were married.”

“Kid you have been watching too many Lestappen edits on Twitter and TikTok.”

You only grumbled.

“I do not. Finally you were my team principal.”

“Strange. Go back to sleep.”

Max never got an answer back, because you were already zonked. He chucked and turned back over, phone clenched in his hand as he watched the edit of Charles’s 2022 sunset lap into his 2023 pre-storm qualification. However, he didn’t know that his volume was so loud.

“He was sunshine, I was midnight rain…And I could see it all in my mind…”

“I KNEW IT! YOU WATCH THEM TOO!”

“GO TO SLEEP!”

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @fly-me-away @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @33-81 @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19 @lizzypiastri

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luvclerc · 1 year

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Do you think you can do a Lando Norris one where you’re a casual fan of F1 and you meet him through your job? The job can be anything.

can’t keep a secret — ln

synopsis: y/n, singer and model, gets invited to the mclaren garage and there she meets a boy that can’t seem to understand what a secret means.

face claim: rosé from bp

liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend and 4,292,012 others

youruser a huge thank you to @.mclaren for having me at the mclaren garage this weekend. officially a mclaren gal now 🧡

mclaren glad you had a great time, see you at the next grand prix?

yn.nation poor yn going to suffer every grand prix weekend

landonorris we’re most definitely working on those corners next time

liked by youruser

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liked by youruser, danielricciardo and 4,013,983 others

landonorris she no longer drives into the bush

[tagged: youruser]

lnnnn16 the most unexpected duo 👀

youruser only because i had a great teacher 😊

landonorris we still have a few things to work on 😉

yn.nation are they flirting in the comments…

lulusifn does this mean no more sad songs from yn 😢

danielricciardo she’s coming for your seat on the grid

mclaren yn driving at the next grand prix 😎

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landonorris added to their story

liked by yourbestfriend, landonorris, and 4,948,021 others

youruser went out on a date

[tagged: yourbestfriend]

hevrtyn the royal couple

landonorris without me?? 😔

youruser if only you don’t have to drive around in your little orange car this weekend :p

yourbestfriend kids settle down

user1 the obvious flirting they want each other so bad

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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 8,384,091 others

youruser secrets out! if you have a secret don’t tell f1 driver lando norris :)

[tagged: landonorris]

landonorris stoppp i thought the mic was on mute

charles_leclerc he went around the paddock telling everybody he was dating you 🧍🏼

youruser of course he did 😞

landonorris i did not i only told a few people

maxverstappen1 i think he has mini shrine of you in his car

lewishamilton in his golf bag too

yukitsunoda0511 if you look closely at his gaming room during his streams you’ll see one in the corner too

mclaren we were the first ones to ship yn and lando 🙋🏻‍♀️

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liked by danielricciardo, youruser and 8,273,103 others

landonorris i love my gf and for the record i can keep a secret

[tagged: youruser]

danielricciardo yes lando we know you love your gf we hear it every race weekend

youruser my lovieee

liked by landonorris

yn.planet can we see the yn shrine

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#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #lando norris insta au #f1 instagram au #lando norris instagram au

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chinesehanfu · 4 months

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[Hanfu · 漢服]Chinese Warring States period(475–221 BC) Traditional Clothing Hanfu-Life of Qu Yuan(屈原）

【Historical Artifact Reference】:

China Warring States period (475-221 BC):Silk painting depicting a man riding a dragon (人物御龍帛畫)

it was discovered in the Zidanku Tomb no. 1 in Changsha, Hunan Province in 1973. Now in the Hunan Museum

A man with a sword is riding a dragon by holding the rein. The dragon's body was given the shape of a boat. A little egret is standing at the tail of the dragon. A carp under the dragon is leading the way. The umbrella in the top middle of the picture shows the owner's nobility. The work has become associated with the Chu poet Qu Yuan’s famous verse from his poem Shejiang (涉江, Setting foot in the river), ‘Carrying a long sword with weird colour; Wearing a qieyun–styled high cap.” (帶長鋏之陸離兮, 冠切雲之崔嵬)

Western Zhou Dynasty seven-huang jade pendant with linked beads/西周七璜联珠组玉佩

About Qu Yuan(屈原）

Qu Yuan (c. 340 BC – 278 BC)was a Chinese poet and aristocrat in the State of Chu during the Warring States period. He is known for his patriotism and contributions to classical poetry and verses, especially through the poems of the Chu Ci anthology (also known as The Songs of the South or Songs of Chu): a volume of poems attributed to or considered to be inspired by his verse writing. Together with the Shi Jing, the Chu Ci is one of the two greatest collections of ancient Chinese verse. He is also remembered in connection to the supposed origin of the Dragon Boat Festival.

Historical details about Qu Yuan's life are few, and his authorship of many Chu Ci poems has been questioned at length.[4] However, he is widely accepted to have written "The Lament," a Chu Ci poem. The first known reference to Qu Yuan appears in a poem written in 174 BC by Jia Yi, an official from Luoyang who was slandered by jealous officials and banished to Changsha by Emperor Wen of Han. While traveling, he wrote a poem describing the similar fate of a previous "Qu Yuan."Eighty years later, the first known biography of Qu Yuan's life appeared in Han dynasty historian Sima Qian's Records of the Grand Historian, though it contains a number of contradictory details.

Life of Qu Yuan(屈原）

The only surviving source of information on Qu Yuan's life is Sima Qian's biography of him in Records of the Grand Historian (Shiji), although the biography is circumstantial and probably influenced greatly by Sima's own identification with Qu.Sima wrote that Qu was a member of the Chu royal clan and served as an official under King Huai of Chu (reigned 328–299 BC).

During the early days of King Huai's reign, Qu Yuan was serving the State of Chu as its Left Minister. However, King Huai exiled Qu Yuan to the region north of the Han River, because corrupt ministers slandered him and influenced the king.Eventually, Qu Yuan was reinstated and sent on a diplomatic mission to the State of Qi. He tried to resume relations between Chu and Qi, which King Huai had broken under the false pretense of King Hui of Qin to cede territory near Shangyu.

During King Qingxiang's reign, Prime Minister Zilan slandered Qu Yuan.[9] This caused Qu Yuan's exile to the regions south of the Yangtze River. It is said that Qu Yuan returned first to his home town. In his exile, he spent much of this time collecting legends and rearranging folk odes while traveling the countryside. Furthermore, he wrote some of the greatest poetry in Chinese literature and expressed deep concerns about his state. According to legend, his anxiety brought him to an increasingly troubled state of health. During his depression, he would often take walks near a certain well to look upon his thin and gaunt reflection in the water. This well became known as the "Face Reflection Well." On a hillside in Xiangluping (at present-day Zigui County, Hubei Province), there is a well that is considered to be the original well from the time of Qu Yuan.

In 278 BC, learning of the capture of his country's capital, Ying, by General Bai Qi of the state of Qin, Qu Yuan is said to have collected folktales and written the lengthy poem of lamentation called "Lament for Ying". Eventually, he committed suicide by wading into the Miluo River in today's Hunan Province while holding a rock. The reason why he took his life remained controversial and was argued by Chinese scholars for centuries. Typical explanations including martyrdom for his deeply beloved but falling motherland, which was suggested by the philosopher Zhu Xi of the Song dynasty, or feeling extreme despair to the situation of the politics in Chu while his lifelong political dream would never be realized. But according to "Yu Fu," widely considered to be written by Qu himself or at least, a person who was very familiar with Qu, his suicide was an ultimate way to protect his innocence and life principles.[citation needed]

Qu Yuan is said to have expressed his love for the ruling monarch, King Huai of Chu, through several of this works, including "The Lament" and "Longing for Beauty".

Dragon Boat Festival/端午节

Popular legend has it that villagers carried their dumplings and boats to the middle of the river and desperately tried to save Qu Yuan after he immersed himself in the Miluo but were too late to do so. However, in order to keep fish and evil spirits away from his body, they beat drums and splashed the water with their paddles, and they also threw rice into the water both as a food offering to Qu Yuan's spirit and also to distract the fish away from his body. However, the legend continues, that late one night, the spirit of Qu Yuan appeared before his friends and told them that he died because he had taken himself under the river. Then, he asked his friends to wrap their rice into three-cornered silk packages to ward off the dragon.

These packages became a traditional food known as zongzi, although the lumps of rice are now wrapped in leaves instead of silk. The act of racing to search for his body in boats gradually became the cultural tradition of dragon boat racing, held on the anniversary of his death every year. Today, people still eat zongzi and participate in dragon boat races to commemorate Qu Yuan's sacrifice on the fifth day of the fifth month of the traditional lunisolar Chinese calendar.

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Recreation Work by : @晴南

Xiaohongshu🔗：http://xhslink.com/CU2x9J

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#chinese hanfu #Warring States period(475–221 BC)#Qu Yuan(屈原）#State of Chu #china history #chines history #hanfu #hanfu accessories #hanfu_challenge #chinese traditional clothing #china #chinese #chinese aesthetics #chinese historical fashio #漢服 #汉服 #中華風 #晴南 #Dragon Boat Festival/端午节

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novlr · 2 months

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6 More Writing Playlists for Scenes and Vibes!

If you love music, you’ll love these playlists! We’ve added 6 more amazing playlists to our already-growing collection.

From sweeping classical themes to write a royal court, some eerie tunes and soundscapes for writing a creepy carnival, vinyl classics for a vintage record store feel, pumping euro tunes for a European road trip, sea shanties for ocean voyages, and some vintage and modern French melodies for when you need a French bistro vibe, we’ve got you covered.

Writing a Royal Court

The pomp and circumstance of a Royal Court are palpable in this collection. This classical playlist is perfect for writing grand palaces, stately homes, balls, banquets, and court intrigues. Be transported to a world of nobles and chivalry where life is decadent and opulent.

Writing a Creepy Carnival

Creepy carnivals are staples of the horror genre, so we’ve put together this collection to help you write it. Whether your carnival travels the world, putting up stakes and causing mayhem wherever they go, or if you’re writing a static circus where visitors inexplicably go missing, then this is the playlist for you. Terrifying ringmasters, creepy rides, and eerie rituals – whatever your carnival holds, this is the playlist to write it to.

Writing in a Parisian Cafe

Sitting in a window of a cafe in Saint-Germain-des-Prés, watching the world go by, the young writer puts pen to paper. The characters who pass by them every day inspire and come alive. If you can’t people-watch, you can certainly imagine it! A mix of classical, acoustic folk, and French pop tunes, this collection will make you feel like you’re really there. So grab a croissant and a coffee and bring the Paris to you!

Writing a Vintage Record Store

Indie record stores have a vibe and are always full of interesting characters. There’s something special about them, and they’re always full of people who love music. This is a playlist for those who need to write a modern vintage feel. It’s a mix of tunes from the 1960s to the early 2000s – the kind of records vinyl aficionados would love a first pressing of. Get in the creative space to write about some of the weird and wonderful obsessive characters you’d find in an underground record shop in your favourite city.

Writing a Journey at Sea

Beware, me hearties, for here be dragons! Whether you’re writing an arctic exploration, an ancient sea voyage, preparations for a naval battle, or a band of intrepid pirates, there’s something in this playlist for you. With a mixture of modern folk tracks, sea shanties, and sea journey-themed instrumental pieces, this collection will conjure images of the salt spray on your face and the wind whipping your hair as you stand on deck, exploring unmapped places.

Writing a European Road Trip

Travel is always an adventure, but there’s something unique about a European road trip where you can fit so many different countries and cities into a small space of time. It’s a whirlwind of sights, tastes, and sounds, so this collection of tracks from all over Europe is sure to get you in the mood. From visiting the sights to sampling the cuisines, and nights out in some of Europe’s most infamous superclubs, this collection is sure to inspire you.

#writeblr #writing inspiration #writing playlists #writers on tumblr #writing community #writers #creative writing #writing #writers of tumblr #creative writers #writerblr #writing tips #writing resources #writers and poets #writers block #writing stuff #writer #writing life #Spotify

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savage-kult-of-gorthaur · 2 years

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"GUARANTEED FRESH EVERY TIME" -- ONLY ON GRAND ROYAL RECORDS.

PIC(S) INFO: Spotlight on "The In Sound from Way Out!," an instrumental compilation by the BEASTIE BOYS pressed on clear orange vinyl, and released in 1996 through their then own label Grand Royal Records. Only 5,000 copies were reportedly pressed.

EXTRA INFO: Also featured here is an advertisement for the then "rare, ultra-limited, and already collectible" record from the pages of issue #2 in "Grand Royal" Magazine, dated 1995.

Sources: https://prudentgroove.com/tag/grand-royal-magazine, various, etc...

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darkdevasofdestruction · 1 year

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Goddess of the Luo River ~ Qin Shi Huang x Reader

She is lightsome as a startled Phoenix, And he, as graceful as a roaming dragon; Her lovely complexion outshines the autumn chrysanthemum, Whilst his radiance surpasses the springtime pine.

She is as nebulous as the moon concealed in light clouds, Gracefully gliding, as snow spun by a flowing wind. He is gazing at her from afar, She shines like the sun rising above the rosy mists of dawn; Observing her close by, She is as luminous as a lotus emerging from clear ripplets.

What lies behind the mask of the 'King Where It All Began' ...?

He... Was the most cursed prince in all of History.

It is held that in the year 260 BC, at the end of the battle of Chang Ping, Bai Qi, General of the Qin Army, had the captured soldiers of the Zhao army buried alive en masse. According to the records of the Grand Historian Shi Ji, the number of men killed was over four hundred and fifty thousand.

The following year, a member of the Qin royal family being kept as a hostage in Zhao, Zichu had an affair with a Zhao dancer. Their child, born in enemy territory, was the boy who would one day become Qin Shi Huang, the First Emperor of the Unified China. Ying Zheng.

However, in 257, Zichu returned to Qin alone, and his mother, Lady Zhao, abandoned him. At just two years old, he was cast away by his father, his mother... And his country. King Zhaoxiang of Qin invaded Zhao and laid siege to its capital, Handan.

Five years later, when the little prince was merely seven years of age, living on the outskirts of Handan, he would return to his small and secluded home, having to see the insults and hostile drawings on the walls made by the citizens, and endure the ostracising and death threats from the guards.

Ever after Qin's siege of Handan, Zhao continued to hold Ying Zheng hostage. They placed him under harsh supervision, keeping him alive but never allowing him to live, all while he bore the scorn of the Zhao people.

One day, however, he will experience the foreign feeling of joy for the first time in his life; As he went to buy some groceries, receiving the hatred of the people, a young lady around his age, wearing the simple clothes of a commoner, jumped in defense of him.

"This boy did nothing wrong! Why do you continue beating down on a child who had nothing to do with the massacre? You hate on him, though you should be hating on the evil general Bai Qi, and the King of Qi who committed such atrocities! The sins of the father shouldn't be passed down on an innocent child!" the prince's heart throbbed in shock and flatter, watching someone actually protecting him, let alone say such words about him! "Shut your mouth, wench, what do you know about war and politics?!" one of the men surrounding them spat at her, grabbing her by the neck of the dress. "This child is the reason your father and brother were buried alive by the enemy, along with hundreds of thousands of other good men who protected our country!" "It wasn't this child who gave the order. It wasn't this child who killed my family, nor anyone else's. Your hearts are filled with malice and scorn from loss and poverty, but that doesn't give anyone the right to use an innocent child as a scapegoat for the evil-doings of the higher ups. It's the fault of them and the constant civil wars happening throughout the country! This country will never heal unless we show compassion and understanding!" such beautiful words, such a progressive and revolutionary thinking from someone as young as her! The prince was highly impressed, but he couldn't find any strength in his body to move, he was rooted to the spot, watching the adults throw the girl to the ground, kicking her mercilessly. "If your father heard you, he'd have disciplined your rudeness until it all bled out! How dare you, a stupid, uneducated woman, speak back to a man? Your father would have beaten you until you learnt to bite down on that vile tongue of yours." she hadn't let out a single yelp, nor did she curse or complain until the punishing was over and the crowd dispersed.

"What do they know of my father, anyway? He was a kind man, he'd never hit me for speaking my mind." the girl scoffed, getting up on her feet and patting her clothes. "Are you alright, My Prince?"

But the prince felt like crying; He wanted desperately to throw his arms around the girl, thank her for standing up for him, for defending and protecting him, but at the same time, she was bleeding and bruised after her feat, and it was all because of him. "F-Forgive me... Forgive me... Because of me, you... You got hurt... I'm so sorry..." he wanted to cry... He wanted to cry so badly... "Aiya, don't say that. It wasn't you who hurt me, you are innocent in all this mess. It is the evilness that hurt me, along with these wars and crimes that keep happening." she sighed softly. "If only there was one man who could unite the country and stop the civil wars, the people would be living in peace and harmony, and the seed of hatred would rot." she shook her head dismissively, before smiling at the boy. "My Prince, I can see you are desperately trying to bite down your tears - You needn't, not in front of me. If you wish me to, I can be your shoulder to cry on, or a reason to smile. You are a kind child, you don't deserve everything that's happening to you." the girl held his hand, squeezing it comfortingly. "Let me show you a special place."

Thus, the girl dragged the little Prince to some part of the outskirts where he's never been before; An abandoned garden that though unattended to, still retained its beauty and grace, with green plants and colourful flowers as he's never seen before. Truly, this must be the prettiest part of all Zhao, the boy thought.

From a hidden spot inside a thick bush, Y/N dragged a chest filled with the most expensive silk clothes and beautiful accessories - And even a pipa lute and make-up! "I've always loved dancing, you see. This place is my special place. Mum showed it to me, and grandma showed it to mum. Since when this chest has been here, or when did the garden get abandoned, I do not know, but I am happy regardless." she giggled softly, discarding the ratty outer layer of her clothes and putting on a lovely pink dress. "My dream has been, since I've seen mum dance for the first time, to become a dancer at the high court. I love the pretty dresses and all the accessories, and the music also. Alas..." she smiled sadly, trailing her fingertips softly across the melodious strings of the pipa. "Men with wealth and status care little that a dancer is not a courtesan, and there is no one to protect us from their lecherous hands."

Ying Zheng could only sit down and watch the girl before him transform into the most graceful fairy, and with elegant moves, her body flowed like the river through a flower meadow, and the orchid fragrance in the Spring wind. He was completely mesmerised by the beauty in front of him. "My grandma danced for grandpa only, and my mum for my dad. I, too, hope to one day marry the love of my life, and bewitch him with my dancing." her smile was so carefree and filled with glee that the prince found himself completely enchanted. "But... I like to dream big. I may be just a simple, common girl, with no family, no money and no status... In spite of this... I do hope that somehow, I would be able to dance in front of people and make them happy, and smile, with my dancing." she glided around the flowers like a peony nymph, her pink skirts flying around her like the rich petals of said flower. "Until then, I suppose I should just continue perfecting my choreographies." "Y-You dance beautifully." the prince managed to stutter out, still under the afterglow of the dance, and the stunning pose she ended in. "If it matters, you made me feel very happy." "Hao!" she giggled sweetly. "You have a gorgeous smile. I hope to see you smiling so genuinely all the time when we're together."

The prince continued to blush deeply, though his heart was throbbing with joy as never before. A single day, however, only has so many hours, and with the afternoon gone, the Sun was setting and the starry skies were reflected in his gorgeous eyes.

"W-Would it be too rude and daring t-to ask you to please be my friend?" the boy bowed down humbly at her, only to hear a sweet giggle. "Y/N. Call me Y/N. And I will call you by your given name - Zheng." she quickly took the jade pendant from her sash and tied it to his own. "There, a token of my care and friendship for you. Now that we call each other by our given name, we are soul bound." "B-But... I-I don't have anything to give you..." the boy's lips trembled with emotion. "Hmm... Let me think..." her sweet smile turned mischievous, as she placed a kiss on his cheek. "Remember what I said about the wars? That only the King of all Kings can unite our country and bring peace?" he nodded silently. "When you become Emperor, don't forget about me. That's the only thing I wish from you. To be friends forever, no matter what the course of time may bring for us. How's that sound?" The little prince looked up at her, his starry eyes sparkling with joy and love, and a soft blush painting his porcelain cheeks. He grinned widely, like a happy child, and he repeated the single word that she adopted from her - A word that will become his most favourite word. "Hao!"

Many days passed, and the friendship between Zheng and Y/N only grew stronger, and so did their crush on one another. Y/N became even more protective over the boy, thus receiving even more scorn and disciplining - The adults could afford disciplining an orphan girl with no status, but they couldn't beat the Prince. Even his deep sorrow dissipated when he saw her dance.

That is, until Y/N walked him home one afternoon, and there, waiting for him, was a woman, blowing into a spinning windwheel. "Are you Ying Zheng?" the stern-looking woman asked. "Who asks?" Y/N frowned, stepping protectively in front of him, glaring at her viciously - But the boy was mellow and didn't want to upset anyone, nor incur another's wrath, and he simply bowed and affirmed that it was him, the prince. "I didn't think you'd be so young. Tsk." she frowned, rolling her eyes. "Who are you and what do you want with the Prince?" Y/N's loud and firm voice made the woman's eyebrow rise. "I'm Chun-Yan, his new live-in caretaker and bodyguard. Which means..." she jumped off the stone lamp and though she could tower over the prince, as the girl was right there, shielding him, she still felt intimidating. "I can roll you, fold you, or do whatever the hell I want with you." "Yes, ma'am, it's a pleasure to meet you." the prince bowed deeply, only for the girl to hiss at the woman and close her fan, bonking her in the head. "Who do you think you are, threatening a child like this? I'll kill you if you even look at him the wrong way." Chun-Yan was rather amused by the braveness of this peasant girl, and she scoffed, straightening up and walking towards the humble home of the prince. "Well, whatever. First things first, show me around this place."

As she opened the doors, she noticed the dilapidated state of complete disrepair that the small home of the hostage prince was; A complete dump filled with broken windows and walls, and furniture, mold growing everywhere and everything was shit.

"God, what a dump this is! Though, I guess it suits a reject from the Qin royal family." the nasty comment made Y/N yell at her again. "Fuck off, will you?!" the woman stared in shock - A little girl cursed like a sailor man! "You are just as evil as all the others around! We don't need you here! Go away! You're only going to hurt him, you evil, nasty woman!" "D-Don't worry, Y/N! It's really okay!" Yin Zheng forced a wide smile on his face. "Would you like something to drink? If water is alright, I'll go fetch some." he bowed again. "... Are you really seven?" she muttered in disbelief before slumping down on the table. "I DON'T LIKE YOU!" she yelled, pointing a finger at him. "A kid your age oughta be crying or throwing a fit at the drop of a hat, but you've just been grinning ear to ear this whole time. It's givin' me the creeps." Y/N didn't even have the time to yell at the woman again, for the prince started dancing around like a monkey. "Are you makin' fun of me?!" "WILL YOU JUST LEAVE HIM ALONE ALREADY?!" Y/N's anger was through the roof. "Who do you think you are, treating him like this?! I bet you lost someone to the burying, didn't you? Well, that's you and EVERYONE ELSE IN THIS CITY! INCLUDING ME!" she glared up at Chun-Yan, who looked flabbergast at the girl. "I lost my dad and brother! My mum killed herself from grief! I've been all alone to survive and fend for myself since I was barely four years old - But I don't go around blaming a child for the evil-doings of those warmongers! Why is it so hard for adults to understand that Ying Zheng did nothing wrong?! That you should be blaming THEM, not a child who was barely a BABY when it happened!" the woman was stunned. "You are a woman! Women are supposed to be gentle and caring towards children! You are a disgrace to all of girl-kind!"

The woman remained silent for a few seconds, staring down at the gleaming eyes of the girl who started crying from the deep rage she felt - And suddenly, Chun-Yan felt guilt and remorse. The girl was right, she wasn't any different than everyone in Handan, or Zhao itself. To think a child would have more wisdom than a rage-blinded adult...

"Let's clean this place already. You can't expect me to sleep in some dingy hut like this." Chun-Yan scoffed, taking the broom and beginning to clean this place properly - Though no amount of work could properly make this run-down home into a beautiful and safe haven.

Regardless, Ying Zheng and Y/N helped in the cleaning up, and though the boy felt incredibly on edge around a stranger, Y/N and Chun-Yan were constantly yelling at each other. The place was... Pretty loud and tense - Yet thus began their unusual pseudo-familial life.

Chun-Yan took the two children for grocery shopping again, only to see the true horrors of the prince's daily life, as one of the merchants threw the food on the ground, urging the prince to eat the sand-filled meat - At the same time, Y/N quickly jumped to shield the boy, as the people around started glaring at him, accusing him of killing their children or relatives. They all wanted to kill him, while he could only force a smile and bow at them humbly.

Anger. Curse. Hate. Curse. Kill. Curse. Evil. Curse. Grudge. Curse. Sad. Curse.

When they returned home, Chun-Yan stopped the lone boy from going to rest, and revealed the many injuries on his body. Apparently, whenever he saw someone getting injured, his own body started getting scars in the same place, and feel the pain of said person. Y/N knew, and that's why she tried her best to protect him, but it wasn't always working. It was all because of the constant hatred from the people of Zhao that he developed such an accursed condition.

It was just a little pain, he'd say. The wounds will heal, eventually... Though his body said another thing, and he almost fainted. Ying Zheng's smile had been instinctively learned by him at the mere age of seven, as a way to allay, even only slightly, the hatred constantly searing his body. "Some day, maybe they'll forgive me... Won't day?" a most pitiful armor.

"Forgive you...? Who do you think you're kidding here?! Huh?! How the hell can you just keep grinning like an idiot?! Why don't you get angry?! Why don't you hate them?!" Chun-Yan started crying - She was now fully understanding Y/N's angry tears and the frustration she felt at the way Zhao was treating an innocent child. "What happened back then... At Chang Ping... HAS GOT NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU! IT ISN'T RIGHT THAT YOU'RE GETTING HURT! SO STOP FORCING YOURSELF TO HOLD BACK! IF YOU WANNA CRY, THEN CRY! IF YOU'RE FEELING MAD, THEN LET IT OUT! STOP KILLING YOURSELF FROM THE INSIDE AND LYING TO YOURSELF ABOUT HOW YOU FEEL!" she yelled at him, falling on the ground weakly, watching the still forced smile on his face. "G-Get angry...? Cry...? I-I could never do that... B-Because I'm... I'm the child of a nation that kills people. I-I'm a cursed child... Th-That's why, I..." for the first time in his life, Ying Zheng felt the embrace of a mother. "It doesn't matter how awful your parents are - Their kid doesn't deserve to be punished! You haven't done anything wrong, nothing at all..." tears were drenching her face, all the guilt and regret overwhelming her. "Y/N was right... Y/N cares so much for you, she only wants the best for you." she found herself speaking in a milder voice. "You're a kind person, who understands people's pain. Your wounds are proof of that, not some punishment or curse." the boy's body was trembling violently. "Ying Zheng. You can live however you want to live."

For the first time in his life, Ying Zheng allowed himself to wail out all of his distress, all the pain, the agony and suffering he's been feeling this entire time, and his mother figure encouraged him. "Why me?! I haven't done anything! Nothing at all! I hate them! I hate everyone! DAMN IT, DAMN IT, DAMN IT ALL!!!!!!"

It was the first night he slept peacefully, and when he woke up, the woman offered him a pretty scarf to cover his eyes. If he can't see the pain of others, then maybe he won't be feeling it? It was worth a try. She made it herself, after all. When her child was still alive, this used to be a piece of cake for her to do.

The boy, with the most beautiful smile in the world, tied the scarf over his eyes. "HAO!" he joyfully exclaimed. "Thanks, Chun-Yan! I'll take good care of it!" "Hao? I like that word too!" the woman grinned at him. He truly was adorable.

Since then, Y/N and Chun-Yan became the only persons Ying Zheng could be around and not feel any pain. Every day he spent with them, Ying Zheng was able to smile and have fun from the bottom of his heart. They would clean up the graffiti and even learn martial arts - Sometimes, they'd even prank the people who used to bully him; And his smile became more and more cheerful. Ying Zheng was truly happy.

However... King Zhaoxiang of Qin, and soon after, his son, King Xiaowen, passed away - And so, in 250 BC, the man who abandoned Ying Zheng, Zichu, ascended to the throne, and thus... Ying Zheng unexpectedly became the crown prince, the first in line to the throne, and was permitted to return to Qin.

"Ha! To think that some silly words I said would actually come true. I must be a Seer or something." Y/N grinned at the crying boy. "Crown Prince Ying Zheng. That sounds very good! Hao! I like that!" "Won't you come with me?! Please?! Please?! Don't leave me alone, I need you! We are friends, aren't we?!" the boy was sobbing, holding tightly onto the girl. "Forgive me, I cannot." she sighed, embracing him. "Not only am I a Zhao citizen, but... I am also a peasant. I would never be allowed anywhere near the Crown Prince." she kissed his cheek, patting his hair. "But when you get older and ascend to the throne - If you still remember me, and want to see me again, then you can always send for me. I will wait for you a thousand lifetimes, if needed. Just to see you again. The beautiful boy with the starry skies in his eyes."

Before he left, Y/N stole a quick peck on his lips, and waved him goodbye; Whilst Chun-Yan was laughing copiously, she had to drag the stunned boy away, his face burning fiercely from a blush. "I'll make you my Empress, Y/N! Wait for me! I'll keep my promise!" they truly were adorable, the woman thought, as the carriage left for Qin.

Thus, however, not only Y/N, but Ying Zheng would remain alone for so long, as Y/N had no one else in Zhao, and with the scorned people of Zhao no longer holding the prince as a hostage, they sent mercenaries to kill him. As a last motherly act of love, Chun-Yan used her martial arts to battle them all, though she would be fatally injured. "YOU STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM MY KID!" she yelled, killing the last one.

As she lay dying in his arms, she told him the truth - That Y/N was right about her all along. She was a scorned, grieving parent, with her child, similar in age to the prince, having been buried alive. Her beloved Chun-Ou. She could do nothing to save him, for she dug in the dirt with her nails desperately, but couldn't even find him to give him a proper send-off. She wanted too see the prince, to scold him for being a useless, evil brat... She wanted to vent her anger and resentment... But she couldn't.

If a kid like Ying Zheng could become the King - Someone who could understand people's pain... Perhaps someone like him could change this fucked-up world a little, the very same way he changed her. "Become the greatest king of them all." it was the same promise that Y/N also bestowed upon him.

Before she died though, she didn't see Ying Zheng, but Chun-Ou. "I didn't know you were there, Chun-Ou. Let mama get a good look at your face." "Mama..." the prince held her dearly in his arms, placing her hand over his face, and he smiled at her, watching how vitality swiftly dissipated from her eyes. "Hao." she lay lifeless in his arms as he wept for her.

Afterward, Ying Zheng arrived safely at Xianyang, the capital of Qin, and on July 6th 247 BC, following the death of Zichu, Ying Zheng became the King of Qin, at the mere age of twelve.

"Let's walk my--..." Ying Zheng smiled, tying the scarf around his eyes. "No. Let's walk the Path of an Emperor. Together. Y/N. Chun-Yan." and true to his words, at 37 years of age, Ying Zheng became Qin Shi Huang, The First Emperor in History to unite all of China.

On the day Ying Zheng was crowned as the King of Qin, he also began being pestered by his advisors and elders to marry soon and produce an heir; After all, every King must have a Queen and concubines to perpetuate the royal lineage. Of course, the Prince didn't care for such things, nor did he want to think about anyone else that wasn't Y/N - But they were still so young! Life was fully ahead of them! On the other hand, it could be a great pretext to bring Y/N to the court and start lavishing her with all the luxuries that the palace has to offer.

Though the King of Qin had room for surprise, along with all the people at the royal meeting, as the large doors of the palace were pushed open, and a beautiful young lady resembling a flower fairy, dressed in rich silks, pink like the petals of a peony stepped on the golden rug that led towards the throne. She had a long spear in her grasp. As she started singing, the King ripped the scarf off his face, and those starred eyes gleamed with glee, his smile wide like never before. They truly must be soulmates, if Y/N could do exactly the same thing that he himself intended to do!

Two loving souls, so cruelly parted In madness and grief, a dark path started Calamity was drawn, rituals subverted But by her lovely dance, was sadness averted.

Ying Zheng didn't think it humanly possible, for a human to glide even more gracefully than he first saw her dancing, a few years prior.

The Phoenix returned to a home without luster; The cobwebs overgrown, the grave-shrouds a-fluster. But one bond upon her, This world could not muster.

"Thus does the tale of the Auspicious Phoenix end - Yet today, a new melody I have to append." the King was truly mesmerised by her lovely voice, and the way she lit the spear on fire and twirled it around so masterfully, kicking it and rotating with it, throwing it in the air, creating the image of a dancing Phoenix. "Hao! Sing me a happy story, Y/N!" he grinned, leaning forward in his throne.

From the world she seems apart But there is one who knows her heart With graceful swaying and a flaming spear To still the raging skies and the shattered hearts

Y/N's smile was so enchanting that it bewitched the King - Her dancing was as she hoped, a means to grow the seed of joy into people's hearts, replacing the darkening hatred.

The Phoenix once returned, And at once, she was spurned. She turned, and left alone...

Y/N, in a swift move, extinguished the flames from the spear, and stepped up the stairs leading to the throne. "Though now, she might be found to whom she is bound - Her love."

Ying Zheng's face was split by a wide, cheerful grin, and in an unexpected move, he threw his arms around the girl, pulling her into his lap and kissing her cheek. "Hao! My Phoenix returned home!" "Just in time to see her beloved dragon soaring the skies." she replied tenderly, only multiplying the excitement of his heart. "The only dance I love above all is that of the Phoenix and the Dragon amongst Heavens." he declared boldly. "Y-Your Majesty, who is this woman?! And how did she even manage to get inside the palace? With a weapon, no less!" having escaped the charm of the beautiful maiden, the elders started murmuring amongst each other. "She is the Empress, of course!" Ying Zheng laughed merrily, loving the unrest amongst his advisors, telling him he couldn't just marry anyone. "I am the King! I can do whatever I want!" and true to his words, Y/N had a most beautiful coronation ceremony, and her red and gold robes truly made her look like the Phoenix that she was.

Not only the Kingdom of Qin, but the whole Empire of China was going to prosper greatly under the rule of Emperor Qin Shi Huang and his Empress, Y/N. She was there to help him rule, with equal power as his own, and a fantastic wisdom and benevolence like no other. She was there to guide him as he walked the path of killing the demon Chi You. They lived a good life, along with all the people of China.

The two would love each other and live in perfect harmony until their eventual death due to mercury poisoning, at an age before even reaching half a century.

In the afterlife, just like in reality, Qin Shi Huang would have to fight to protect his people, as he was chosen as a human representative fighter in this mess the Gods created, Doomsday, the wish to eradicate mankind. He already killed a demon, and now, he was ready to kill a God.

He couldn't wait for too long in his own room, and with how directionally challenged he was, he walked through walls until he found the Gods' private balcony where Ares and Hermes were, and he flipped the God of War out of his seat, getting comfortable on the cushy seat, even causing the Messenger God to pour him honey mead.

"You know I can't walk fast in these clothes, you little menace." a feminine voice, very much amused, took the attention of the two Gods. "Oh, that's a lovely view of the arena!" the regal looking woman shamelessly sat on his lap, her arms around his neck as he offered her his drink. "This is really good! Can we get more?" bowing, the butler looking God poured some more.

The doors were slammed open again, and the little Valkyrie, Goll, yelled at them, followed by the elder one, Brunhilde. "Goodness! Even after I'd expressly told you NOT to leave your room - And what's more, you've left the corridors FULL of holes!" the elder one was more amused than scolding. "Mou mantai!" the two laughed, free of any care. "The road is where I lead!" he grinned, holding onto Y/N's waist, clingy like a child. "Come on, we have to go." Hilde spoke. "I refuse! We've taken a liking to this place! And besides, we definitely won't grow bored here." the man exclaimed. "In case you weren't aware - YOU will be fighting in round Seven." Hermes and Ares gasped in shock, as the Emperor, holding his love in his arms, jumped on the backseat of the couch.

"HAO!" he grinned confidently. "Finally! I'd grown tired of waiting!" "Now, let's head to the entrance gate, shall we?" Hilde sweatdropped at the unhinged behaviour of the bratty Emperor. "The dragon soars the path of the Emperor! The road is where Qin Shi Huang leads!" Y/N declared boldly, unfolding her fan dramatically.

From underneath the Gods balcony, all of China's Emperors after Qin Shi Huang unraveled a large red and gold rug, making way for the very first Emperor to lead the way to victory - Covering all the minor Gods from the stands. None mattered, except for Qin Shi Huang.

"Hao! That's how the Emperor has to be treated!" Y/N hopped from his arms, and off the balcony, waltzing ahead and leading the way forward - From her sleeves, butterflies would flutter, and where she waved her fan, red flower petals burning like cinders would breeze in a majestic dance, matching her own enchanting one.

She is lightsome as a startled Phoenix, And he, as graceful as a roaming dragon; Her lovely complexion outshines the autumn chrysanthemum, Whilst his radiance surpasses the springtime pine.

She sang the song that Ying Zheng loved the most, resembling the Goddess of the Luo River - The Beauty of China, Luo Shen. Though the Emperor hated that she ended up so heart broken over her husband's death, going so far as to drown herself in the river - He couldn't help but admire the pure love between her and her husband, mutually intertwined, just as he and Y/N were; Truly, all his life, he admired everything about her, and strived to become a man worthy of her lover. He wanted to be the man she could depend on, the man who could prove for her.

And thus, he became the Emperor.

As the song ended, Qin took out the bamboo flute and, stepping into the ring and playing the tune that harmonised perfectly with his Empress' graceful moves. Her dress, a deep shade of red like fire, flew around her like the Auspicious Phoenix that she was, and with her golden Dragon, they danced the Celestial melody of Heavens.

Heimdall, as well as all the rest watching, were mesmerised at the elegance displayed in their bonding, true love like no other radiating strongly from their smiles; He couldn't even begin the introductions as he watched the Emperor pick his lady in his arms, two fates intertwined, dancing coiled around each other eternally - And ending with a kiss. Their fairy-tale like love made all those watching deeply envious.

As the two lovers kept gazing into each other's eyes, the God announced the Emperor's great deeds, before calling out his title as the humans all chanted his name; the Gods boo'ed, angry that he was so arrogant, even going as far as too show off his love-life like that. As Y/N kissed him shamelessly, in front of the whole Valhalla, a young lady, Alvitr, had rageful tears in her eyes for being left forgotten at the Mankind gate.

"Mou mantai! I'm an Emperor, after all." he waved dismissively, before picking her up carefully in his arms. "Come a little closer." she was blushing so bad. "No need to be so rough, my boyish young lady." he chuckled lightly. "Don't worry, little lady. Zheng is going to take good care of you." Y/N patted her hair, watching her completely fall in love with the handsome man, and in one burst of lightning, the Volundr was formed. "Hao! This fits me nicely!" he grinned, showing off his Almighty Spaulders. "As handsome as always, my darling." she kissed his cheek again, though she felt a chill shiver down her spine as the God of the Underworld, Hades, walked forward.

Not only was he ready to avenge his brother, but he was also feeling envious at the way Y/N so openly loved and pampered her husband, the same way he wished his beloved Persephone would.

Before this battle of King vs Emperor could begin, Y/N gladed towards the stands where the Emperors were standing - Right where Chun-Yan and Chun-Ou were, and she got helped up in the stands. An Empress shouldn't have to find her way around the maze-like corridors - The First Empress of China had every right to walk the shortest and easiest road to where she wished to.

As the fight began, Hades thrust forward a single strike, loaded with tremendous power - A single thrust meant to kill. He continues to attack with one heavy-class jab after another, but the Emperor never once got hit; And even when he used one of his strongest attacks, named after his wife, Qin Shi Huang only had his body nicked.

The next straight thrust, the Emperor deflected, easily catching the handle of the bident before throwing back the attack - His own power added to that of Hades, sending him sailing backwards painfully hard - It was Qin Shi Huang's Chi You - Armor form: Sword, Armor, Spear, Crossbow, Halbert - Heavenly Hand of Defense.

As they say, the best offense is a good defense. The reverse is also valid. "Hades, King of the Netherworld... Was it? Let me tell you a thing." as the dust evaporated, the God's form was slumped to the ground, a large crater in the wall where he hit it. "There can only be one Emperor in the world, and that man is I!" he confidently declared.

He didn't fight for six whole days against the Demon God Chi You for nothing. He didn't raise above all the other so-called King for nothing. He didn't become the first unifier of China, the first Emperor, the King where it all began - For nothing!

Ying Zheng - Qin Shi Huang - Was the only man worthy of being called The Emperor!

Hades managed to stand up. He was bleeding from his head and his torso was injured. "Qin Shi Huang, was it? Tell me one thing - What in your eyes makes a King?" "A king?" he grinned. "One who never doubts! Never yields! Never relies! And always stands as the leader of his people! That is what makes a King!" Hades was awestruck by the answer, and even started laughing merrily. Nobody alive ever heard the Lord of the Underworld laugh so boomingly. Ying Zheng joined in the laughing. "You remind me of someone I know... All too well. He was more noble than any other God, more steadfast than any other - And the God most worthy of the title of King. My younger brother, Poseidon, King of the Seas." he extended his arm forward, showing off the weapon. "And I swear by his name, as his elder brother, I shan't give in to a mere King of Men!"

Thus, with a weird stance, Hades unleashed an attack, the proper way of fighting with a spear; With all his might, he delivered a crushing downward swing. The Emperor shielded himself with his arms. "I AM THE KING OF THE UNDERWORLD - HADES! FALL AND BE CRUSHED!"

The King of Men was slammed face-down, flat onto the ground. "ZHENG!" Y/N yelled his name, watching his spit a bunch of blood, struggling to stand up. "Ahh, it's sticky, all soaked with blood. Buhao." he groaned, hanging his head. "Mou mantai..." he sighed, a little disappointed as he took off his cherished scarf. All Emperors bowed down in his honour, gazing his handsome face for the first time. "Now then - Shall we continue, King of the Netherworld?" he grinned confidently. despite the blood painting his face. "So you can take one of my attacks and still smile. I would expect nothing less from a King!" Hades grinned, launching into a ferocious flurry with his rigid spear.

Qin Shi Huang has no choice but to roll with the thrusts; He was waiting for an opportunity to use his special technique. As Hades used the Smasher of Earth down on his head, the Emperor had to shield himself again; But this time, he didn't fall - Using his breath to weaken the attack, he grabbed onto the blade of the bident, and slammed the wielder into the ground, breaking it.

But just as before, any wound that Ying Zheng sees, he receives also - And though he managed to injured Hades, he also felt intense pain. Even in a direct combat, Qin used his breath onto Hades' chest, and with his claw-like fingers, he used the Mount Tai, Dragon Claw technique, delivering an intense strike, leaving an awful mark onto his abdomen.

Ying Zheng's starry eyes weren't just beautiful - They could actually see the stars of living beings. The flow of Qi. Qin could see the cruxes as stars. The double edged gift that served him as both a blessing and a curse. "Ahh, this is why I hate fighting with my eyes." Qin grinned, baring through the blazing pain in his abdomen. "Aw man, that really hurts."

"Don't make fun of me... Do you call yourself the Greatest King?" Hades chuckled light-heartedly. "King of the Underworld, you are strong - But I promised two special people that I would become the Greatest King - So I can't lose to anyone!" to get the most out of his fantastic martial arts, Qin Shi Huang was given a Divine Weapon specialising in defence - Alvitr; The secret ability behind her name is - Army Guardian! "You are strong, King of Humans. A promise of never losing, right?" Hades clenched his fist around his own blood. "I also have something I want to protect. My oath."

Thus, Hades advanced again, spinning his bident like a windmill, destroying the air bullets coming his way - Qin could barely defend himself against the attacks coming his way, though even when he struck, the two were equal in power, and Hades' forearm was mauled. "Even though you're human, you made it this far, huh? I'm going to kill you... But first, I wanted to say that you were magnificent." Hades declared boldly. "Hao!" Zheng grinned at his opponent.

From the stands, every human was cheering for the Emperor. Y/N especially was the loudest, along with Chun-Yan and her little boy, Chun-Ou.

Once again, Hades did something remarkably unusual - Not only did he begin to whistle the tune of his dear younger brother, Poseidon, before self-inflicting a large gash on his chest and splattering not only himself, but his weapon in a shower of crimson life essence. Drenched in blood, Hades rushes Qin, changing mid hit his thrust into a downward swing - He managed to find a way to counter his disruption of Qi. "You pose no threat to me."

Hades' blood wasn't SIMPLY blood. "Assemble!" the King of the Underworld ordered his weapon to transform into a mighty strength to be reckoned with; Any Divine Weapon that his blood, the Pluto Ichor, spills upon harbors the God's life force and becomes even more powerful... But the longer he keeps it up, the higher the risk of death. "King of Men, this is my trump card." he got in a battle stance with his new weapon, the Four-Blooded Spear of Destiny - Ichor: Desmos. "Tear at his flesh - Desmos!" this almighty thrust managed to break through the powerful armor of the Emperor. "I cannot lose. As their elder brother, I shan't be defeated!"

The Valkyrie Alvitr made herself seen to her human, worrying over him - Not only half of his hand, but his shoulder also were heavily destroyed. "Mou mantai. Compared to the pain of others, my own pain is scarcely anything to bear." he declared selflessly, like the fantastic leader that he is. "Alvitr... If we don't do something, we stand no chance at winning. I think we should bet everything on this next strike." he spoke, more seriously, only to annoying the young Valkyrie. "THAT WAS PATHETIC!" she yelled at him, as a scold. "SAY WHAT YOU WANT LOUD AND CLEAR, LIKE AN EMPEROR! YOU SHOWED OFF WITH YOUR EMPRESS LIKE THAT - AND NOW YOU WANT TO LOOK UNCOOL AND DIE IN FRONT OF HER?! IN FRONT OF EVERYONE BELIEVING IN YOU?!" she huffed like a brat. "How haughty of you, my boyish young lady." he smiled, looking up at the stands where his most cherished people were cheering on him. "I WANT TO WIN NO MATTER WHAT!" he yelled, loud and clear, as he should have. "Haha, I know! Really... You Kings are so stubborn!" she giggled, reinforcing their bond even further. "Let me give you all the power I've got!" thus, the Almighty Spaulders were recast into the Shi Huang Goujian Sword. The best defense truly is a remarkable offense.

"I am EMPEROR! King among Kings! And a King only takes pride in protecting his people!" Ying Zheng's starry eyes shone brightly with hope and power, whilst his dazzling smile remained as confident as ever before. "Excellent, O, lofty King - Now let us tear at his very heart, Desmos!" he, who bore the pride of the Gods and laid down his own life; The King of the Netherworld -- And he, who knew the pain of others, and fought for the sake of his people, the King Where It All Began.

Only a King can understand the mind of a King. And these two Kings could both tell that the end of the match was nigh.

Hades went forward, using Desmos: Eos once again, and Ying Zheng retaliated with Chi You: Sword Form; Shi Huang Yan cut. He was driven back, his already damaged left arm ripping clean off from the shoulder and flying across the arena. "ZHENG!" though the Emperor could hear his wife's desperate voice, calling out to him - He simply laughed merrily, seeing Alvitr's worried expression, looking down at him.

"It's beautiful...! What a beautiful star I see!" surprising everyone, the Emperor managed to use his sword to stand up once again. "A king never doubts. A King never yields. A King never relies." even with his arms ripped off like that, and the awful injuries sustained, Ying Zheng kept standing tall and ready to fight. "And a King never surrenders!" he was standing up through sheer willpower. "I can't let my wife see her husband dying, you know? I promised to only ever make her happy - So I can't cause her tears of distress now!"

He could hear them - The voices of the people. He's been fighting all this time to keep his promise to Y/N and Chun-Yan; To bring the people not hatred, but happiness. Everyone was cheering for him. The Greatest King of All Kings - Qin Shi Huang.

"Look, I know you don't wanna give up, but what are you gonna do exactly?" Alvitr asked, a little confused but ready to fight to the bitter end by the side of this worthy man. "I'm going to use Heavenly Hand of Defense once more." he spoke weakly, watching her distress and worry. "Trust me - I am THE Emperor!" Alvitr smiled, filled with hope and confidence thanks to this man. "You're just... Haha! No need to ask!" she, too, got in a fighting stance next to him, supporting him from within his soul. "HAO!" the Emperor exclaimed, thrusting the tip of his sword forward, to mit that of Hades' spear. "I consider myself proud to have been able to fight you." both the Gods and Mankind, and every eye upon the arena could sense that this very next clash would be the final one of Round Seven.

And the first to make a move was the King of the Netherworld, with a fearsome thrust from Desmos, loaded with all the Ichor that Hades could give; Against this gully-powered attack from the King of the Netherworld which seemed as though it could kill with a simple graze, the King of Men, without hesitation, caught it. Chi You Armor Form: Heavenly Hand of Defense.

Everyone had braced themselves for the end, save for the King Where It All Began... Who managed to use Tortoise Ripple to hit Desmos' Qi Star. It got weaker. Desmos was alive, not a lifeless weapon, and Hades hadn't taken that into consideration - He brought his spear to life, his most powerful advantage, but also, his most fatal disadvantage.

Ying Zheng had never forgotten, not even for an instant, that his own life began from the end - When the woman he loved most, his wife, along with his cherished mother-figure, Chun-Yan, showed him... That a King is one who arises from the end, and brings about the Beginning.

Desmos was shattering in his fighter's grasp, and the Human representative managed to impale his sword through the God's torso. "Magnificent!" Hades praised. "Nothing less...!" though he tried to use the broken handle of his weapon to kill Qin Shi Huang, he failed, for the Emperor sliced him open. "... from a King." Hades was unable to make good on his vow. He failed as an elder brother, but the Emperor managed to keep his oath to all the people that relied on him. "Forgive me."

As Hades lay dead on the ground, Heimdall announced Emperor Qin Shi Huang as the winner of the Seventh Round of Ragnarok, and with it, Mankind was in the lead, 4 to 3. "I am grateful that I could speak with you, King of the Netherworld." the Emperor clenched his fist to his chest, in honour of the admirable and honorable fight between two Kings. "Pengyou." through this battle to the death, the two Kings became friends.

Gods and Humans alike were showing their respects to the King of the Netherworld as he was shattering into glowing shard of green soul and ascending into the skies. In under 13 minutes, the King of all Kings defeated a God.

Just as before, the Emperors watching the match helped the Phoenix Empress descend into the ring so she could run to her husband, supporting him and the little Valkyrie lady up. "You were fantastic, you two. Now you may rest. I will take you to the infirmary at once." both of them, like a happy family, smiled at each other. "Don't push yourself too hard. You look even more banged up than me." Alvitr joked. "Mou mantai!" he chuckled at her reassuringly. "Mou mantai? You sure don't look it, silly man. Let me support you two." Y/N giggled, getting in between them two and holding onto them with all her force. "Honestly, it's a miracle you're even alive right now." Alvitr scolded him lightly. "That isn't true, Alvitr. Did I not say it before? Trust me!" his reassuring grin made the girl emotional. "You really are stupid." the Valkyrie's smile trembled. "H-Hey, can't you keep standing up?" Y/N released Alvitr from her grasp, supporting the Emperor as he lost consciousness. "Alvitr, if you have any strength in you, please help me hold him!"

The Valkyrie yelled for the paramedics to rush already - He needed urgent, intensive care. The nurses quickly brought the table and put the Emperor, rolling him quickly towards the Intensive Care unit where he will be taken until his condition is stabilised.

Ying Zheng and Alvitr also were kept in capsules to better their vital functions, and in between them, sat Y/N, smiling softly at the two. The Valkyrie was already a divine being, she was going to be alright... But Ying Zheng is still a human and was in a particularly critical condition - Whether he survives this or not, depends on his own strength to live.

"Ying Zheng and Alvitr. The Emperor of Heavens and his protector White Tiger." the Empress spoke gently, each hand laying on one of the glass capsules. "Alvitr, thank you for protecting my beloved Zheng. I will forever be indebted to you. My sweet child. Alvitr." Beautiful and divine, strong and courageous." her voice trembled softly. "My boyish young lady." her gaze turned to her Emperor. "Qin Shi Huang. The Emperor of China. The King Where It All Began. The First Unifier of China. The Golden Dragon of China. The Eye of Heaven." a few tears escaped softly down her cheeks. "Ying Zheng, my beloved husband, the beautiful boy with the starry skies in his eyes. The love of my life." her tender tears turned into heartbroken sobs. "I am so proud of you. So, so proud. You have always been a true leader for our people, and you were always such a wonderful husband, a partner, a friend. My confidant. My heart. My soul. My everything." though Goll and Brunhilde left, the Emperors whose paths were pathed by Qin Shi Huang were all standing outside the room, watching with heavy hearts, the shattered cry of the Vermillion Bird. "If the tears of the Phoenix could truly heal any wound, I would drown you in my cries and save you. If I could give my life to save you, I would transfer all of your wounds to mine own shell of a body, rip my flesh apart with mine own teeth and claws, and give you all of my blood, just to see you alive once more. My most precious sweetheart." the people watching all began to shed tears. "Just like the Goddess Luo who drowned herself in the river, so will I, out of grief, should you depart from this world before me." for one last time until her beloved would flutter his sparkling eyes open again, Y/N dried her tears and smiled brightly at Ying Zheng and Alvitr. "Hao! Mou mantai! Listen to my voice as I sing for you a beautiful melody. May you have sweet dreams and rest peacefully - And when your strength returns, please, return to me. And if not... The Vermillion Bird will burn to ashes, for the last time."

I want to be your love for ever and ever, Without break or decay. When the hills are all flat, The rivers are all dry. When it thunders in winter, When it snows in summer When heaven and earth mingle, Not till then will I part from you.

Thus, a melody was sung, through the cries of the weeping Vermillion bird, burning bright as the Sun, for her celestial Golden Dragon of Heavens, and the almighty White Tiger, shining silver like the moon.

#record of ragnarok imagine #record of ragnarok x reader #record of ragnarok #qin shi huang #qin shi huang x reader #qin shi huang imagine #ying zheng #ying zheng x reader #ying zheng imagine #ror #ror x reader #ror imagine #qin shi huang ror

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formulapierre · 1 year

Text

Her Royal Highness. | George Russell

Pairing: George Russell x Royalty!Y/N

Prompt: Lewis introduces George to HRH Y/N the Princess of Wales during the British GP and the press seems to be hot on their heels.

Warnings: Religion(?)

Word count : 3481

HRH Series: Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3

MercedesAMGF1

Liked by KensingtonPalace and 1,406,356 others

MercedesAMGf1 Look who decided to stop by on her tour of the paddock @HRHPrincessofWales

HRHPrincessofWales Thank you for having me! Can't wait to be back soon 🥰

--- MercedesAMGF1 George still can't get over the fact you spoke to him...

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“Lewis! How incredible to see you again,” You say, wrapping your arms around him as he steps out of the Mercedes garage to greet you.

“Your highness,” He says bowing slightly.

“You know you don’t have to bother with that,” You remind him with a soft laugh.

“I know, I know, we haven’t spoken in so long,” He complains as he escorts you into the back of the garage, most of your security staying outside as there wouldn’t be enough room for all of them. Only your equerry, Adam, came in behind you.

“We really should catch up more often,” You say in agreement as you walk down the faux hallway and into the garage; all of the mechanics and engineers hard at work as it was less than an hour away from the first practice session.

“Your royal highness, a pleasure to meet you,” Toto Wolff, Mercedes’ Team principal, says to you, bowing slightly, just as Lewis had.

“Mr Wolff, amazing to finally meet you, Lewis has told me a lot about you,” You say, shaking his hand. “All good things I promise,” You add, assuringly.

“We’ll if he has been lying In sure over the next few hours I can set the record straight,” He jokes, putting a hand on Lewis’ shoulder, making all three of you laugh. You were acutely aware of the photographers outside the front of the garage having a field day with your conversation. The noise levels seeming to increase as an influx of new people enter…one of them must be the other driver, George.

HRHPrincessofWales

Liked by PierreGasly and 4,918,274 others

HRHPrincessOfWales Incredible experience at the British GP this weekend, it has definitely reignited my love of motorsport

Great to see some of the MotorsportUk's Girls on Track team and see the amazing work they are doing to encourage the future generation of young girls to get into STEM fields.

Thank you so much to @MercedesAMGF1 as well as @TotoWolff for giving me a tour of the garage and for asking the copious amounts of questions I had.

Amazing to see @LewisHamilton again and an absolute pleasure to meet @GeorgeRussell63 💙

GeorgeRussell63 The pleasure is all mine...hope to see you trackside again soon 😀

Username1 How does she get a reply from George and I don't???

--Username2 Probably because she's the PRINCESS OF ENGLAND???

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“George, come here for a minute; someone I want you to meet,” Lewis says to him, pulling him out of conversation with his press officer. He looks a little stunned as you turn to look at him, a wide smile spreading across your face as his eyes meet yours. Wow…where had they been hiding him…

“Mr Russell, honour to finally meet the guy who’s giving Lewis a run for his money here at Mercedes,” You say offering your hand to him.

“George, please, your highness,” He says bowing as well. “I’m just trying my best,” He says with a laugh as He firmly shakes your hand.

“-and doing a very good job of it, at least that’s what I’ve been told,” You reply with a smile.

Paddock_Gossip_

Liked by Username1 and 293 others

Paddock_Gossip_ @GeorgeRussell and @HRHPrincessofWales spotted embracing in the hallway of Georges Hotel room after the british grand prix.

Has George bagged himself an english princess?

Username3 So people can't hug anymore?

Username4 NEW WAG ALERT

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“-Darling have you see-,” George calls from the hallway as he walks towards you. You hold your finger up to him as he walks into the bedroom, motioning to the fact you were on the phone.

“-yes, I completely understand Lizzie. We honestly thought we were safe, I had no idea they were there. And you know that I have a sixth sense for this kind of thing,” You say to her as George takes a seat on the bed next to you. “So what are our options?” You ask, probably being able to guess what they were.

“We’ll to be completely honest; you have two options…the palace can either confirm the relationship; use those photos from that weekend away in Scotland as the official photos. Or, the palace can refuse to comment. There is no doubt that it is you and Mr Russell in those photos; so we can’t deny that it is the both of you,” She says, giving you a few moments to breath and think. “If you need to have a think, that’s fine, we don’t need a decision for a few hours,”

“Yeah, I’ll need to talk to George about this, I’ll call you back later Lizzie,” You say, George rubbing his thumb on your thigh, knowing you found it comforting. You end the call and drop the phone onto the bed.

“I take it that was about those photos?” He asks and you nod. “-and on the phone?”

“My head of PR, Lizzie. She’s amazing but doesn’t realise things can be complicated,” You say honestly; she had gotten you out of a few sticky situations, but never really considered the emotional toll it took on you.

“So what did she say?” He asks.

“We have two options. We confirm the relationship or we don’t say anything at all,” You say to him, moving to sit up a little straighter.

“I don’t love the saying nothing idea…you know how much time I spend in interviews, I can only dodge that question for so long. And is there such an issue with us going public? I feel we’ve done a pretty good job hiding it these last six months” He says with a cheeky smile as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Evidently not well enough…” You say, not quite sharing George’s sentiment.

“What’s the matter?” He asks, pulling you into his arms, wrapping them around you tightly.

“I just don’t know whether this is too soon…as you’ve said, we’ve only been together for six months. I quite like us just being us,” You tell him honestly as he starts to press kisses into your shoulder, pulling your collar down a little to expose the skin.

“Mmh, I do too… but a part of me would just love to be able to walk around holding your hand, telling the world you were mine and I was yours,” He says, starting to kiss up your neck.

“I love you,” You say quietly.

“I love you too Darling,” He replies, making the little butterflies in your stomach explode with excitement. “We’ll talk to Lizzie tomorrow, together,” He says as his hands start to run across your arms. “-right now though…I can think of better things to do,” He says, switching positions so you were now underneath him.

KensingtonPalace

Liked by GeorgeRussell63 and 730,183 others.

KensingtonPalace OFFICIAL ANNOUNCEMENT

The Palace are delighted to announce the ongoing relationship between HRH The Princess of Wales and Mr George Russell.

'We met through a mutual friend at the British grand prix and are very much enjoying getting to know each other. We both decided that this was the next step in our relationship and are looking forwards to what the future holds' - HRH The Princess of Wales

Comments have been limited on this post.

“You don’t need to be nervous,” George whispers into your ear, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. His hand resting on your thigh, feeling how it was bouncing up and down. Something he knew you did when you were nervous.

“-I’m not…ok maybe I am a little bit,” You finally admit. “-but I think I’m perfectly within my right to be,” You add defensively as the driver comes to stop in George’s allocated spot; thankfully safe from the media for now.

“We’ve already announced that we’re dating, you can do this,” He assures you as the car doors are opened. The parking area was sealed off from the public so you didn’t have to worry about them until you entered the paddock. George took your hand into his as you started to walk towards it, slowly rubbing the back of your hand.

You both swiped your passes as you came to the gate, the chime of them opening seemed to attract everyone’s attention; it’s then that the flashing starts as every photographer in sight wants to get a picture of the two of you. You smile and wave as you were trained to do; sticking close to George’s side as you head straight for the Mercedes hospitality.

Friday went by very quickly; as you spent most of your time in conversation with Susie Wolff who was accompanying her husband, and kind of took you under her wing, showing you where everything was, the best places to watch practice from and most importantly - how to get from the hospitality to the garage without being hounded by the press.

Saturday was much more exciting than Friday as George warmed up for Qualifying. He had asked you to be in the Garage, wanting to see you in between sessions. He narrowly missed out on the front row but 3rd gave him a good position on the racing line; with Charles and Carlos ahead of him it was going to be a tough start, but George was more than happy with it, already setting his sights on a podium.

You were more nervous going into Sunday than you were arriving on Friday; you got these nerves every time you watched George race; but they were amplified by the fact you were there. You sat on a padded seat at the back of the garage, next to Aleix, George’s performance coach as he talked you through the track. Much in the same way he would George, explaining the technicalities of each turn. As much as you loved Adam, you thoroughly liked being surrounded by a larger group of people. Having Aleix and Georges PR officer aswell as his race engineer made things much more enjoyable.

You watched intently, amazed by his flawless pit stop only metres away from where you sat; listening to his voice as he spoke to his engineer, constantly updating each other on strategy and tire wear. You hid behind you hands as he came around the penultimate corner, only 0.002 behind Charles; skilfully managing to out break him on the last corner, putting them neck and neck as they speed towards the finish line. George just managing to beat him to it.

The garage erupted with cheers and celebration as the fireworks went off; George’s voice coming over the headset. “Get in!!! Stellar race guys, this one’s for you Darling,” He says, causing you to blush bright red as Toto wraps his arm around your shoulder. The whole team rushes down to parc ferme; George pulling off his helmet and running over to you. “I want to kiss you,” He says breathlessly and you just nod before he pulls you into him and locks his lips with yours.

HRHPrincessofWales

Liked by TheRoyalFamily and 8,194,285 others

HRHPrincessofWales Amazing to be back in the paddock 💙

MercedesAMGF1 You're part of the family now! 💙

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You were laying in a hotel room together, on a Wednesday night; only hours before you would be trackside. “Darling,” George whispers into your ear. “-are you awake?” He adds kissing the back of your neck. He lay behind you, arms wrapped around your waist.

“Mmh, you ok?” You ask, rolling over to look at him.

“You know how much I love you…?” He asks you and you nod. “- this is not a proposal. But I want to spend my life with you,” He adds, kissing your neck. “I was just wondering what that would look like,” He asks, running his finger over your bare arm aimlessly.

“Well…until we did get married you would not be expected to undertake any royal duties; however if you wished to we could sort something out,” You start by saying, thinking things through before speaking again. “-and your future in racing would definitely be a conversation that would have to be had. Would you be able to continue, would you retire?” You say honestly. “You would move into Kensington Palace with me and would most likely be bestowed the title of Prince of Wales; I would assume that’s what my father would do, I’d be surprised if you were given anything else…” You say with a soft smile; giving George a few moments to think about what you had just said. “-the minor details being that you would relinquish most control over your social media, you would be limited on what interviews you can give; your security will be increased…we would share Adam as our family equerry,” You say, giving him the brief overview; knowing the depths of control the palace had, neither of you could properly comprehend.

“Do you want a family? I know it’s expected of you since you are the heir to the throne…but do you want to have children,” He asks, it had been mentioned briefly in the past but never asked fully.

“I do,” You say with a wide smile that soon spreads to George’s face. “I love children, and can only dream of having mini-me’s and mini-you’s running around,”

“Our children are going to be perfect,” He says kissing your forehead, when he pulls away you can see a question brewing in his head.

“What do you want to know? I’m an open book darling,” I say honestly.

“What happens when your father dies?” He asks, trying to ask it as casually as possible.

“Well, upon his death; I will ascend to the throne, becoming the reigning Monarch. We will then enter mourning, for society that will be around a week…for us it could be a month or so. Then about a year after he passes I will have my coronation; where I will officially become the Queen Regnant... It does get a bit more detailed than that, but that’s the majority of it,” You tell him. “-but we don’t need to worry about that for a while, my father is still fighting fit,” You add with a laugh as you wrap your leg around his waist and pull yourself towards him, closing the gap between you.

“I love you, and I will always love you,” He says, burying his head into your neck, kissing it gently.

DailyMail

Liked by Username1 and 73,194 others.

DailyMail HRH The Princess of Wales spotted with F1-star boyfriend George Russell at Sundays Wimbledon final.

After the announcement a few weeks ago made by Kensington Palace it was only a matter of time before they were spotted at their first royal engagement together.

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Now it was George’s turn to be nervous as we rode in the state cars towards Wimbledon. Unlike my first race it was just us in the car, the driver separated by a divider. “All we have to do is sit there and smile,” You remind him. “And we both like tennis so we can just get into that, block out everyone else,” I assure him, our hands intertwined as our motorcade moved through the streets. We moved quite quickly and arrived only a few minutes later. George stepped out first, offering me his hand as I climbed out of the car; being greeted by the Chairman of the Wimbledon Association as well as Roger Federer who would be joining us.

We walked through the building, making small talk between us as we were escorted towards centre court where the final would be taking place. Adam and George walk out first, taking their seats as Roger and yourself were going to be announced. He went first, taking the seat on the other side of where you would sit.

Trumpets started to announce you as the doors were opened. “The Royal Patron of Wimbledon; Her Royal Highness, The Princess of Wales,” The announcer says. Everybody in the stadium is standing as you walk down towards your seat. You give a polite wave before George takes you into his arms; pressing a kiss to your cheek before you all sit down.

GeorgeRussell63

Liked by HRHPrincessofWales and 491,485 others

GeorgeRussell63 The past 6 years have been some of the best of my life; but they do say that all good things come to an end.

I want to thank Mercedes and Williams for all of the opportunities they have given me in my career; but Abu Dhabi will be my last race as a driver.

This was not a decision I made lightly; nor one I made on my own. After lengthy conversations with Y/N and our families about what the future looked like and none of those had racing in them. Nonetheless I am extremely excited about what the future does look like.

Thank you all for your continuing support.

George x

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A few years later

BBC - An Interview with HRH The Princess of Wales and Mr George Russell.

"Your highness, Mr Russell; how are you guys doing today?"

"We're great, excited to finally sit down with you," You say, smiling at George who was sat next to you, your hand wrapped in his.

"So George, tell me what it's been like, obviously you've been away from racing for two years, how tricky has that been?"

"Not very tricky, Y/N keeps me on my feet and my calendar busy," He says laughing. "-of course I miss racing, but I had achieved everything I wanted to achieve. I had won races, I won the drivers championship in my final season, there was nothing there for me anymore. And that seemed to come at the perfect time. We had been discussing the future and what that looked like, and that didn't involve me travelling around the world as much as I did," George answers honestly.

"Y/N, what's that been like for you?"

"Watching George race was terrifying so that part of me is grateful he retired, but I know how much it meant to him, and always will. So we have put things in place for the future that will allow him to retain that part of his life,"

"So what does the future hold for you both?"

George looks at you and you nod. "Well, as of last week, Y/N and I are engaged," He says, the both of you smiling from ear to ear. The interviewer was shocked that you would announce that on her show.

"Congratulations! Wow, that is amazing news!"

"Thank you, we're both really excited about our future together, the last couple of years showed us how much we truly loved and couldn't live without each other," You answer, squeezing George's hand.

TheRoyalFamily

Liked by LewisHamilton and 21,049,581 others

TheRoyalFamily A collection of incredible photos from the wedding of HRH The Princess of Wales and Mr Russell.

"As I father I am immensely glad that Y/N has found somebody to share her life with; and after spending time with George I knew for certain he is the right man for her. It is an honour to welcome him into the family and call him the new Prince of Wales,"

HRH King Henry IX

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“George William; Will you take this woman to be your wedded wife? to live together in accordance with God's holy law? Will you love her? Cherish her? and care for her in sickness and in health? forsaking all others to stay faithful to her, so long as you both shall live?” The Archbishop asks as you stand next to each other. Westminster cathedral filled with friends and family as well as the world's media as they watched on.

“I will,” He replies.

“Y/N Elizabeth Catherine Charlotte; Will you take this man to be your wedded husband? To live together in accordance with God's holy law, will you love him? Cherish him? And care for him in sickness and in health? Forsaking all others to stay faithful to him, so long as you both shall live?” He asks again, this time to you.

“I will,” You reply

“Who gives this woman to this man?” The Archbishop asks, your father stepping forwards. He presses a kiss to the back of your hand before passing it to the Archbishop who gives it to George.

“I, George William, take you, Y/N Elizabeth Catherine Charlotte, to be my wedded wife. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part; according to Gods holy law,” George repeats, phrase by phrase after the Archbishop. “With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee honour, and with all my worldly goods I thee share”

“I, Y/N Elizabeth Catherine Charlotte, take you, George William, to be my wedded husband. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part; according to Gods holy law,” You repeat. “With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee honour, and with all my worldly goods I thee share”

“In the sharing of vows, the exchanging of rings, and the joining of hands; I do now pronounce thee man and wife in the name of God the father, The son, and the holy spirit. Bless, preserve and keep you. Amen,” He finally says, neither of us able to contain the joy we were feeling. The service continued with hymns and prayer, ending with the national anthem.

“Not enough champagne for my liking,” George whispers into my ear, making you laugh.

Your sister walks towards the pair of you, handing you your bouquet of flowers before holding up the train of your dress. The clergy start the procession out as George takes your hand in his. You curtsy as you pass your father; George bowing next to you. His young cousins following behind you as page boy and flower girl. You smiled at everyone as you walked back down the aisle, struggling to believe you had just married George. Both of your families behind you, Georges mother walking alongside your father (something she had told you she was very nervous about) and your mother with his father; the crowds waiting outside the cathedral had grown since you had gone in just over an hour ago. Each one of them cheering and waving flags, showing their support for you.

You both climbed into the state carriage that would take you back through London and into Buckingham palace; every inch of street, 5 or 6 people deep as you went.

“What did we just do?” George asks with a smile on his face. You don’t answer him, just pressing your lips to his was a good enough response; the crowd loving it aswell. Once you reached Buckingham palace and both of you families had arrived you were all escorted up the stairs and into the balcony room. Even through the closed doors you could hear the crowds.

“Congratulations you two,” Your father says, wrapping his arms around you in a hug and shaking George’s hand. “Let’s do this thing,” He adds, making everyone laugh as the doors are opened.

Thanks for reading! This one wasn't inspired by a song but rather something that just popped into my head, it was meant to come out a few weeks ago but my laptop broke and you get the idea. Thanks, - E x

#f1 #f1 imagine #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #formula 1 imagine #formula one x reader #max verstappen #george russell x reader #george russel x reader #george russell #george russel imagine

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freakyfrye · 2 months

Text

ᝰ. perfect stranger

requested: stolas x gn! swan reader, what if stolas never met blitzø at the ‘not divorce’ party

type: oneshot

content: no mention of pronouns (just “you”), slow burn, wholesome & vulnerable fluff, love at first sight (for Stolas maybe, up to interpretation), flustered & subtlety turned on stolas (not too much tho stolas), down to earth reader

note: for the record, I don’t hate stella (i actually like her character, villains have a soft place in my heart always), y’all idk about this—this is trash 🚮 I hate how I wrote it, imposter syndrome is heavy with this one but I don’t want to rewrite it and make you wait longer! I know I said I’ll wait until I wrote all my wips but I need this out my drafts neow!

Anyone who could be considered important, on some level but no more than she, knew that Stella Goetia just adored throwing parties once in a blood moon. In her fancy mansion, she’s the face, the main character, and she plays her role as host so well that people tend to overlook every other bad quality she has among the very few pros. Or perhaps, they would rather not have bad blood with someone of her caliber.

You, on the other hand, couldn't care less—about the parties, the fancy mansion, or Stella herself, frankly. Parties were never your first choice for outings; they were the most energy-draining events, with all the overcrowding and having to pretend to enjoy the company of ill-minded individuals.

But alas, you begrudgingly attend this one, and many others, as a representative of your family name. You're not silent in your disagreement, always voicing how they couldn't have picked a worse member for the job—if your frown, ever present since entering the oh-so-lovely and homey residency of the royal family, was anything to go by.

Doing your due diligence, you converse with a few guests as you make your way through the herd of people, keeping it curt and unseasoned. Finally, you reach the woman of the hour. Locating her wasn’t difficult; her boisterous, obnoxious laughter, reminiscent of a terribly played violin, rang through the room.

Exactly what you’d expect from her. Respectfully but quickly, you greet her, say a few false words of endearment about living a long life, and then scurry off back into the sea of snobby kiss asses. To her and anyone around her, it might look like you were scared, tucking your tail between your legs. In truth, you were trying to keep your big mouth shut in case she couldn’t keep her nasty comments to herself.

The party continues uneventfully. The music, more like a lullaby, would have lured you to sleep if you hadn’t downed a few cocktails to prevent it. The partygoers, annoying as they are, fail to read the room and approach you regardless of your many excuses to avoid meaningless conversation. They just want insight on why a (surname) is at a party alone, much less why you of all people are here.

By evening, you were running out of excuses until you grow hungry—using the lack of vegetarian options as a way to escape their gossip. Now standing beside a gigantic window, you contentedly munch on some leafy greens, finding interest in staring outside. The view is much more impressive than the building itself—isolated enough from Imp City yet overlooking it enough to make a grand statement. It is truly beautiful at night, the lights like little twinkling stars rivaling the sky.

Your head snaps in the direction of a crash, eyebrows raised in disbelief at the sight of wine dribbling down the glass of the window beside the one you stand near, shards scattered on the ground. To your surprise, or perhaps not, the vandal is Stella, who now leaves the scene in a fit of laughter, two idiots in tow beside her.

Why in hell would she do that to her own home? The thought Interest you some. She should know the potential damage that could have caused, let alone to one of her guests who could have been injured. Stella looked back, a sinister grin spreading across her face as she shot a rude remark past you towards someone. It made you realize she didn’t really care—neither about the mansion nor how it made her look.

Your lips form a tight line when you realize her comment was directed at her husband, who retorts with a low, irritated chirp. It seems this wasn’t much of a homey residence after all. Sighing, you place your drink onto the tray of a passing imp, heading over to the stained glass, each step revealing more of the prince hiding behind a column.

There wasn’t a memory with him that you could recall as you took out a handkerchief, wiping the window clean. You knew he attended all parties, cursed with the duty of family, but you never interacted with him. As you bent down, picking up the shards piece by piece, you considered whether you should approach him.

There were plenty of reasons why you didn’t want to or shouldn’t, like the vibe he was giving off as he shamelessly gulping down a bottle of absinthe. But it was your duty to greet all hosts, and even though he wasn’t mingling like his wife, he still counted. It was better to get it over with.

Hurriedly, you call over a wait staff, dropping the shards on their tray with a fleeting explanation, “Have that area swept thoroughly,” while gesturing towards it before brushing past them towards the prince. Stolas grew in size as the distance closed, standing a few feet taller than you. It would be only slightly intimidating if not for him choking on his drink after you suddenly appeared before him.

Sending him an apologetic smile, you bow, “Evening, Your Highness. Hope I didn’t frighten you.”

He managed to squeeze out, “I’m fine,” in the middle of coughing before fixing his posture and smoothing down his vest, handing the bottle to a imp beside him. “It’s quite alright. I just wasn’t expecting company…” he trails off, eyes flickering up and down, clearly confused as to who you are or why you were talking to him of all people in the room.

“I’m glad. I would hate to be the reason the prince falls ill. That would not bode well for my family,” you admit, half-jokingly, before addressing the second half of his statement. “You’re in a room full of like-minded people; surely someone besides me has come to talk with you.”

Right? Because that makes sense. He is the prince.

He blinks owlishly at you before stuttering, “Well—” He clears his throat, placing a hand on his abdomen before continuing, feigning nonchalance, “Why, of course. It’s only appropriate in this setting. I presume that’s your current agenda?”

“Yes,” you answer truthfully, finally glancing up and pausing. A giant banner hangs loosely above his head that reads “NOT DIVORCED!” in bold lettering. Usually the observant type, how in the world did you miss this? “However, if I’m honest, that’s part of the reason,” you add, curiously. You didn't realize it was that kind of party. Maybe you should start paying more attention to the invitations.

“Oh?” Stolas tilts his head slightly, eyes widening. He leans in closer, his voice a mix of confusion and genuine interest, “And what, pray tell, is the other half of the reason?”

You open your mouth, ready to speak what’s on your mind. You've never been one to hide how you feel—superior or not—otherwise, it would consume you. But then you close it, pursing your lips in thought. Perhaps that would be too rude, too personal off the jump, too far outside your jurisdiction to ask him about his marriage at his “not divorced” party, which his wicked wife obviously threw just to spite him.

Damn, you wish more than anything that you could have continued the party without ever seeing that sign or witnessing Stella’s public display. You didn’t care for gossip, but you were a curious individual by nature. He’s standing there, waiting on you to say something—anything, or you’ll risk looking like a fool.

“Do you want to get out of here?” you blurt out after a pregnant pause, cursing yourself inwardly for what you were getting yourself into. Anything would be better than what had came out of your lips.

His body recoils in apparent disgust at what you dare ask him, a prince. You can’t say you blame him; you’d be creeped out if a random nobody asked that too. “Wait, what?” he replies, dumbfounded at your boldness. Was this a joke? He scans around the room, as if searching for something but finds nothing before returning his gaze to you, a faint blush dusting his face. “Could you repeat that?”

You've made your bed, might as well lie in it. Besides, you never wanted to be at this party in the first place, and it's becoming painfully dull. Ideally, you'd slip away alone after greeting him—but this could work out—satisfying your curiosity before the night is over, it could potentially end badly but who knows when you'll cross paths again. Probably at another miserable gathering, actually.

"Ditch the party with me?" You casually rephrase, keeping your head high, silently hoping you don't come off as too much of an idiot. “Or not. Either way, I’m bored stiff here, and it doesn’t look like you’re having a blast either.”

Stolas blinks a few times, processing your proposition. “You’re suggesting leaving the party together?” he repeats, confirming what you’ve just asked, though you’d already clarified it. His lips curl into a hesitant smile, betraying a hint of nervousness at the unexpected proposal.

“And where would we go?” There’s a playful gleam in his eyes, signaling his curiosity and a willingness to entertain the idea of breaking away from the formalities of the event.

You hum in thought, not having planned that far ahead, before shrugging and tilting your head with a genuine smile. "What about the garden? There seem to be a lot of plants around the palace. Someone must really care for them. I bet it’s beautiful," you suggest, recalling the impressive variety of plants, including the carnivorous ones, on the way to the ballroom.

His feathers ruffle as he lets out a low, excited squeal, his smile growing more confident as he leans down to your height. "You have an interest in plants?" he asks, almost unable to believe it, his hands clasped together. Everyone he's ever come across has called his interests boring. He never had a friend who was.

You nod, your posture relaxing after seeing his genuine reaction. "It's a bonding activity between my mother and me that started in childhood. I take it by your reaction that you handle their care?" Perhaps he could be good company after all.

His comical blush returns when he remembers that your suggestion came with a compliment. “Yes, I do. I’m surprised you noticed. Not everyone cares for botany…” He gestures toward the exit, silently saying ‘after you’ before adding, “I would be delighted to accompany you to the garden. I can show you the new species of carnivorous plant I acquired...if you’d like?”

Chuckling at his enthusiasm, you nod and reply, “I’d love that.” You head toward the door, with Stolas quickly falling into step beside you, his hands interlocking behind his back. There’s a respectable distance between you both, ensuring you don’t draw unnecessary attention as you discreetly leave together.

Stolas takes the lead after exiting the ballroom, and a comfortable silence settles between you, broken only by the sound of your footsteps. You notice how he occasionally glances at you, curiosity and excitement in his eyes, as the distance between you subtly closes. You don't voice your observation, letting him assume he's being sneaky when he's not.

"You know," he begins softly, eyes now trained forward, "I never caught your name." A stifled snicker escapes you, causing him to snap his eyes towards you, filled with confusion and a tad bit of worry. "Did I say something amusing?" he asks, tilting his head slightly.

Shaking your head, you respond, "No, it's just... It's a silly thought to think that you might know who I am." you tease.

A flustered noise escapes him, his shoulders stiffening as his mouth drops open and then snaps shut. He stops abruptly, turning his whole body toward you as he stutters, “That’s not... well, the reason...” He struggles to find his words before speaking honestly, “I don’t have a real reason, but if I had met you before, I wouldn’t forget you.” As if he could, you were the first creature in a long while to spark his interest so effortlessly.

Sighing softly, you gesture for him to continue walking. "Actually, it's refreshing not to be noticed immediately upon entering a room," you admit with a slight smile.

Finally reaching the garden, he opens the door and holds it for you, a gentle smile playing on his lips. “I understand how you might feel,” he sympathizes softly, closing the door behind him as he follows you inside. He watches with pride as your eyes widen in awe at the lush, vibrant space filled with an array of plants.

Taking your hand lightly, he guides you to a particular section of the garden where an unusual, striking plant catches your eye. “This is it,” he says, reluctantly letting go of your hand. “My newest addition. Isn’t it fascinating?”

You glance between him and the plant, chuckling in disbelief. "You’re kidding, right?" Your eyebrows shoot up at his confused expression. "Satan, I don’t know what I was expecting, but this—this wasn’t it. How in hell did you get an earth plant to thrive?"

He hums, glancing at the plant lovingly. "A bit of nurturing, a touch of magic, and voilà—a thriving earth plant."

"That simple, huh?" you ask, stepping up to touch the plant. It's soft under your touch and bends with ease—it's real. He wasn’t joking, but then again, why would he with all these other live plants around? It’s just a little hard to believe, is all. “Simple but significant.” you add, remember an affirmation your mother used to say.

Smiling, you let go of the leaf, your eyes following a path that leads deeper into the garden. You start walking, momentarily forgetting your original agenda: why throw a 'not divorce party'? Why not a normal party like normal couples do? But then again, was anything ever normal when you’re raised in the royal family?

Chances are they were arranged before they could even walk. Everyone who grew up in the scene knew that love wasn’t always part of those kinds of marriages. But you thought that wasn’t the case with those two. They hid it so well.

You become so engrossed in the scenery that you jump slightly when Stolas starts to speak, forgetting that you are in his home and not a museum. “Earlier… you said greeting me was only part of your agenda.” He raises his arms in a gesture of harmlessness noticing your jitteriness before continuing, “I’m purely curious… inviting me to escape with you wasn’t the other half, was it?”

"You’re more observant than I gave you credit for," you tease lightly. "You’re right. I still think it’s a touchy subject for you, but I can’t help myself. It’s like an itch in my brain that needs to be satisfied."

“There’s a lot you’d come to find out about me. I’m quite attentive toward things or people who interest me. Plants, my darling Octavia…” Stolas trails off, leaving his lost words hanging tensely in the air, but his gentle eyes on you have you forcing your brain to stop misinterpreting him. He shakes his head, as if to dismiss his own thoughts, "You can ask, as long as I get to ask you one in return. A fair exchange, yes?"

“Fair enough,” you agree, still hesitant and unsure of how he would take it but blurting out your question anyway. “It’s not hard to see that there’s some tension between you and your wife… almost painfully obvious.” You sigh, recalling the earlier events. “So my question is, why are you together, throwing a ‘not divorce’ party when it so clearly should be the opposite?”

There’s a long, pregnant pause between you two. Stolas stares at you, blinking as he processes your question, truly not expecting that to be what was on your mind. You were right—it was a rather personal question, one that really wasn’t any of your business. The nerve of you to be so crass as to ask him that of all questions, and yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to dismiss you.

Instead, he thought of all the reasons why he should answer—someone cares, someone’s listening… the list goes on and he checks them all off. The results are in and it’s still unclear if he should, even though his heart wants him to. Eventually, he expresses himself candidly, laying himself bare for a stranger who unexpectedly stepped inside his world.

Stolas sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair as he looks down at the ground. For a moment, he seems lost in thought, grappling with the complexity of his situation.

"It's... complicated. Stella and I, we've grown apart, to say the least. Our marriage was never really based on love or mutual respect, but more on the idea of strengthening our family's influence and securing alliances."

He lifts his gaze to meet yours, his eyes haunted by a deep sadness.

"But to leave her... it's not that simple. Divorce is rare and scandalous in Goetia. It would be a massive blow to my reputation, and I'm not sure I'm ready to face that kind of backlash just yet."

He shrugs, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as exhaustion settles on his face. The facade he’s been building crumbles in the wake of vulnerability. Now you feel slightly guilty for asking, but you know you had to—not because you were nosy anymore, but partly because he needs to know that there is an alternate ending, one where he could be happy. That it was possible, you were proof.

“I understand the expectations of royals as much as you do. However, I refused to give up that part of my life to my duties. I saw how taxing it could be from the outside looking in. Sometimes it works, other times it doesn’t. I couldn’t leave that up to chance, and I believe you shouldn’t have to either. So what if the royal family judges you? They’re going to do that regardless. If they are, why not live for yourself? You don’t have much to gain from the marriage anymore. Your daughter’s nearing adulthood, right?”

Stolas numbly nods, hanging onto every word. “Then set yourself free before you drive yourself mad trying to keep up with appearances.”

Stolas is at a loss for words. No one has ever cared enough about him to offer such kind words of support. Not his father, not his wife, not even those with whom he sought intimacy. Yet here you are, a stranger, offering him hope. He feels himself choking up with emotion, but he expertly covers it with a cough and a polite smile behind his hand.

However, you can see just how much your words have affected him when you look into his glossed-over eyes. It's like looking at freshly polished rubies. You fear if you confess that the tears he hasn’t shed will flow. Heavens when did you become so soft…

His hand moves from his lips to rest over his heart, which beats so aggressively against his ribcage that he might be concerned if he weren't immortal. You are dangerous for his health, he thinks, when you tilt your head cutely, causing his heart to flutter momentarily before finding its appropriate rhythm again. His throat tightens as he tries to swallow with a dry mouth.

“That might be the kindest and most genuine advice anyone has given me… thank you,” he mutters, afraid to speak louder than a whisper for this conversation. Stolas's face grows hot as he confesses his next words, a hint of longing in his voice, “I wish I had stood up for myself then. Maybe things would have been different…”

“It’s never too late to do what’s right by you.” you reply without a beat, nodding in all seriousness.

“You’re right!” Stolas steps closer to you, moving his hand closer to yours. “It’s time to live for myself. I think I deserve that much. You’ve given me much to think about.” His hand hesitantly brushes against yours. “But I do believe it’s my turn for a question.”

You perk a brow at his change in tone, noticing it drop an octave but it doesn’t match the coy smile he sends you. “I said it before: it’s only fair after the little discomfort I caused you,” you remind him, side-eyeing him, standing rigid and unsure of the sudden change in atmosphere.

He chuckles softly, finally taking your hand in his, “The only discomfort I felt was at that stuffy party, which was soothed by your presence,” he replies, before dipping down to place a gentle kiss on the back of your hand. “Can we do this again? Going out, I mean.” Rising back up but not letting go of your hand, he continues, “I enjoy your company, and your honesty is a breath of fresh air compared to everyone sugar-coating. You’re the first person I’ve met who shares my interests too. It would be a shame, on my part, to leave it at this.”

Your purse your lips, brows furrowed. Since attending this party, nothing has gone right. Instead of leaving alone, you ended up escaping with the prince, and now he wants to see you again. It wouldn’t be an issue if it weren’t for the subtle hints he been giving since you’ve met. Let’s not forget that he is still married.

Despite how shitty a marriage it may be, he was taken. Not that it was your intention to steal him away in the first place. This could only end badly if people were to take your sudden friendship the wrong way. Now getting out of an arranged marriage with someone else was one thing, but having a situationship with the prince of Hell was another.

How were you going to spin this? You avert your eyes from his, filled with anticipation and hope, ignoring the gentle squeeze of his hand in yours. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, your highness.”

Stolas coaxingly coos gently, drawing your attention to your hands, which he interlocks. "Oh, please? We could have it at your place this time if it'll make you more comfortable."

"Oh fuck me," you groan, closing your eyes and rubbing the back of your neck with your free hand, missing the way Stolas bites his lip as a shiver slithers through his body. You reluctantly agree, opening your eyes, "Alright... You have to give me time to get everything up to par for a prince."

"Not need! For company like yours, I’m fine anywhere."

rules, masterlist

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fantasyescapes17 · 1 year

Text

Closed Doors (Part 3, Final)

Soonyoung had made peace with his station in life. A younger son of a little-known family, he was not set to inherit a fortune and had nothing to recommend him but his bright personality. Nobody expected Soonyoung to make the match of the season. But when you- a woman with ties to the royal family and riches beyond his imagination, a Duchess in your own right- seeks Soonyoung's hand in marriage, his life begins to spiral entirely out of his control.

Genre: Hoshi x female!reader. Regency!AU. Your title is the Duchess of Graham but your first name is not mentioned.

Warnings: Not even remotely historically accurate. Much like Bridgerton, this is all about the aesthetic.

Word Count: 8.1k+

Part 1 Part 2

Series Masterlist [This is not the first installment in this series- it is strongly recommended to visit the Masterlist and read the installments in order as they are all interlinked and the timeline can be confusing.]

You awoke with the morning sun shining brightly in your eyes.

One of the maids had opened the curtains and cracked the window. There was a gentle breeze and you could hear birds chirping; the sounds and fresh smells of the countryside estate were much more pleasing than the smoke and noise of London.

You relaxed instinctively, knowing that you were home. It was warm under the covers and you sleepily sat up in bed and blinked at the maid.

“What time is it?” you asked her.

“It’s a quarter to eight, Your Grace. I thought perhaps you might want to sleep in, but since the Duke was already awake…” she trailed off with a giggle.

The drowsiness cleared and you suddenly remembered where you were. Not in your usual bedchambers, but in the bedchambers of your newly wedded husband, now the Duke of Graham. Your face grew hot as you remembered the events of the previous night. Soonyoung had surprised you many times since your first meeting, but the events of the previous night had perhaps been the most pleasurable surprise of all.

“Do you require anything, Your Grace?” the maid asked you, concerned. “If you are in any pain…”

You wrapped the bedsheets around you tightly and tried not to show your embarrassment.

“No- I… just help me dress, please. Where is the Duke?”

“In the master study downstairs, Your Grace. He has been there all morning.”

“All morning?”

“Yes, Your Grace. He was awake long before most of the servants had arisen.”

You were confused but kept your questions to yourself. You allowed the maid to help you dress and then went downstairs to the master study. This had been your late father’s favourite haunt, and although it was not as large as the grand library upstairs, it was still a luxurious room where your father had conducted most of his business meetings and matters of the estate.

The study door was slightly ajar. You could hear familiar male voices: Soonyoung, Mr. Johnson the estate manager, and one of his assistant bookkeepers.

“There are separate ledgers for the household and for the estate?” Soonyoung was saying in a slightly confused voice. “If I wanted to see a consolidated view of the overall finances-”

Mr. Johnson spoke up. “We reconcile everything on a quarterly basis, Your Grace. Those records are kept here. I would recommend viewing them separately, however, as the household ledgers only track expenses and outgoings and we report them here as a percentage of the gross income.”

Soonyoung sighed. There was a hint of frustration in his voice. “But that gross income is before you’ve provided for taxes?”

“Which taxes, Your Grace? The ones payable to the duchy or the ones payable to the Crown?” the bookkeeper asked patiently.

“Those are separate taxes?”

You knocked gently on the study door and pushed it open. Soonyoung was sitting behind the large mahogany desk, while various ledgers and volumes were open on the table before him. He was startled when he looked up and saw you. His ears promptly turned red and he jumped to his feet.

“Your Grace!”

The bookkeeper and Mr. Johnson also rose to greet you.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” you greeted them with a small smile. “Isn’t it rather early to be going through these tedious ledgers?”

Soonyoung rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “My apologies, Your Grace. I-I asked for Mr. Johnson to come. I wanted his help to better understand the matters of the estate.”

It was certainly unusual behaviour, but as with everything Soonyoung did, you could see his innocence and good intentions shining through. His eyes were bloodshot. If the maid was to be believed, Soonyoung had been here grappling with the ledgers since half past five in the morning. The new Duke of Graham evidently did not shy away from hard work. You felt a sudden rush of affection for this man, your husband, and his dedication to his new role.

“Perhaps we might adjourn for breakfast?” you suggested lightly.

Soonyoung nodded and hastily closed the ledgers before coming over to you. “Yes, yes, of course.”

“Shall we eat in the gardens?” you asked Soonyoung, who gave you a sudden handsome smile that made your heart skip a beat. You bit your lip and turned to the other gentlemen. “Thank you for coming on the Duke’s request, Mr. Johnson. I will ask the staff to arrange breakfast for you and your assistant in the parlour.”

Mr. Johnson nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

Soonyoung offered you his arm and you took it before leaning closer to him. It was a strange and thrilling feeling to be so near him. While there was little reason to feel shy after the events of last night, you still enjoyed the subtle contact of your hand resting on his elbow. It was an innocent gesture, but now that Soonyoung was your husband, it felt far more meaningful.

The sight of his soft smile left a strange but pleasant feeling in your stomach.

The servants had set out your breakfast in the garden and Soonyoung blinked, squinting in the bright morning sunlight as you both stepped outdoors. The gardens were large and beautifully maintained with flower beds, water fountains, and artfully shaped hedges.

“This estate is even more beautiful by day,” Soonyoung said honestly.

You bit your lip. “Something you might have discovered sooner if you had not shut yourself in the study on your very first morning here,” you replied.

Soonyoung looked apologetic until he noticed the soft smile on your face. You did not appear angry, so he relaxed.

"I apologise if I worried you, Your Grace."

“I was only surprised. Was going through the estate ledgers so much more exciting than having breakfast with your wife?”

Soonyoung flushed. "No, I only…"

You smiled at him gently. "Yes?"

"As a second son I never took an interest in matters of the estate or business in my own family. Now I find myself the Duke of a duchy with a history and genealogy that goes back hundreds of years…" Soonyoung paused and bit his lip as he looked down at his teacup with a heavy sigh. "I only hope I can be what the title requires me to be."

You felt a sudden burst of affection for the man and you reached across the table to place your hand on top of his.

"Soonyoung."

"Yes?"

"I want you to know that you are not alone. I am genuinely grateful for the effort you are putting in," you told him honestly.

Soonyoung smiled in relief. "Thank you, Your Grace."

"Shall we eat?"

It was a pleasant breakfast in the fresh morning air. Soonyoung seemed in awe of everything; from the breakfast spread to the perfectly maintained flower beds. Soonyoung polished off his meal enthusiastically while telling you about the childhood he spent in the countryside.

"I'm sure our estate wasn't even a quarter of this size," he admitted. "I don't remember much about it. I was sent off to boarding school and then the Royal Naval Academy fairly young, and I spent my summer breaks in London."

You blinked at him. "But the Viscount said he first met you in Oxford?"

He coughed, looking rather embarrassed. "Yes- I attended Oxford for about a year. It was fun; I made friends but I was bottom of the class and it was quite evident by the end of the first year that I was not about to become a barrister or a doctor. I thought I had best cut my losses, and transfer to the Royal Naval Academy."

"Were you drawn to the navy by a sense of adventure?" you asked with a smile.

Soonyoung chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "A boyish sense of adventure? I suppose so. I was certainly more motivated by the thought of defeating enemy warships than being called to the bar. I wanted to do something exciting, so I will not pretend that I was pleased to learn sailors are more likely to die from scurvy or drowning than at the edge of an enemy combatant's sword."

"Is there much sword-fighting in the Navy?"

He grinned at you sheepishly. "There was plenty in my fantasies."

You could not help but smile back at him. "It seems I must apologise, then, for depriving the Crown of a potentially heroic naval captain to defend our stormy seas."

"Considering the number of times I had to retake the lesson on using a sextant to navigate at sea, I am sure the Crown is quite grateful to you for keeping me on solid land, Your Grace," Soonyoung replied humbly.

"Oh- I have always wanted to learn how to use a sextant," you said brightly. "It's a funny little contraption, is it not?"

Soonyoung chuckled as he sipped his tea. "Fiddly little things and awful to use. I was horrified when I went to the academy and learned that ships did not just sail blindly into the vast unknown, and marine navigation involved an overwhelming amount of mathematics and nautical charting," he admitted.

"You expected more sword fighting?"

"I expected less calculating."

"Well," you said with a smile as you sipped your tea, "I am sorry that you are forced to do some calculating here. I noticed that you were going through the ledgers this morning. What prompted you to rise at daybreak on your first day and undertake that particularly painful task?"

Soonyoung blushed. "You will laugh if I tell you."

"Only if you say something funny."

“I- I woke at dawn and I could not sleep,” he admitted. His ears were slightly red. “I went out for a drink of water, but I wandered down the wrong hallway and found myself in what I now understand to be the ancestral gallery? It was a long hallway filled with portraits of your ancestors who all stared down at me disapprovingly from the walls. It struck me that I was responsible for continuing their legacy, and I did not relish the idea of having to face them if I hadn’t done everything in my power to uphold the glory of their duchy. I became quite anxious, so once I had escaped the gallery, I asked to meet the estate manager immediately.”

The corner of your lips twitched noticeably.

Soonyoung pouted at you. “You promised that you would not laugh, Your Grace!”

“I promised no such thing,” you replied, but you could not help but let out a giggle at the thought of the poor Duke wandering around the manor at dawn. “But I will not laugh at you. I will only make one observation.”

“That is?”

“Many of these ancestors you saw in the portrait gallery were drunkards, gamblers, and adulterers. I assure you that there is nothing particularly grand or glorious about most of them. They were simply rich men. I do not think you shall find it incredibly difficult to outshine them, Your Grace,” you told him. “Honestly- the only prerequisite to be added to that gallery is to stay alive long enough to produce an heir that will put up your portrait once you are gone.”

Soonyoung almost choked on his tea. “Yes- an heir, of course.”

You bit your lip and avoided his gaze. “There is… no particular urgency on that front.”

“Right.”

“Shall we take a tour of the manor, then, to prevent Your Grace from losing your way and encountering more anxiety-inducing portraits?”

Soonyoung smiled. “Yes, let’s.”

Over the course of your first day as Soonyoung's wife, you were surprised by how pleasurable you found his company. Soonyoung was not suave or charming in the style of men like Viscount Hong, nor did he possess the bold confidence or pride that were often considered desirable among the male sex.

No. Soonyoung was different. He was kind, he was honest, and he was humble. You had never met a man quite like him. You had never met a man that you wanted, more than anything in the world, to love and trust with all your heart.

It was a long day but time spent with Soonyoung went by in a flash. You showed him around the manor, the gardens and the creek and told him about your family and childhood and the estate. Soonyoung listened to you intently. He hung onto your every word and although you had always been a quiet and reserved person, you found yourself speaking more than you usually did, opening up to him, and even laughing.

Your maid, Rosie, noticed the lingering smile on your face as she helped you dress for bed later that night.

"If I may say something, Your Grace…" Rosie began shyly as she combed through your hair.

You blinked up at her in the mirror. "Yes?"

"We were all quite worried, Your Grace, when we heard that you had married in London so suddenly- and to a man with no fortune, even Mr Johnson thought perhaps Your Grace was being taken advantage of…"

You looked up at her defensively. "I may be a woman but I am not an idiot, Rosie."

Rosie flushed. "Of course not, Your Grace! I see that now… I think we all understand why you married the Duke."

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Well… pardon me, Your Grace, but you haven't been yourself since the late Duke passed. You've become so quiet and withdrawn and we were rather worried. But since yesterday… well, old Mrs. Minnie in the gardens was saying that she couldn't remember the last time she saw you smiling so brightly."

You pursued your lips in embarrassment. Was it so obvious, even to the servants? You had always been careful not to reveal your true feelings too much, to mask your emotions behind a practised smile. But if even the servants could see that Soonyoung had such an effect on you…

The thought was strangely both comforting and scary.

There was a knock on your door. One of the servants opened the door and poked her head in. She seemed to be stifling a smile.

"Your Grace? The Duke is here for you. We found him wandering the upstairs hallways."

"Of course, please let him in. Are you done, Rosie?"

Rosie released your hair with a smile. "Of course, Your Grace. Good night."

The servants left while hiding their giggles, and Soonyoung entered your room with flushed cheeks. He was holding a bottle of wine- the same bottle, you realised, that you had brought to his room the previous night and left unfinished. He glanced awkwardly at the door that the servants exited from.

"That is the second time one of the servants caught me lost in the manor," he said, embarrassed. "I think they are all laughing at me. I had forgotten where your bedchambers were."

You smiled at him. "Shall I draw you a map?"

"I would probably lose the map as well," Soonyoung joked. He stepped closer to you and revealed the bottle in his hand. "Can I tempt you with a glass of wine before bed? We never finished this one last night."

You nodded. "Of course."

It was a strange sort of intimacy; comfortable and yet still exciting, to crawl under the covers with Soonyoung as he poured you a glass of wine. He lit a cigar with your permission. You ordinarily disliked the smell of tobacco, but oddly, you did not mind anything much when you were with Soonyoung.

Sipping the wine, you patiently answered his questions about the estate and the dukedom. You had been handling most of the important matters yourself for many months now; particularly since your father's illness had him bedridden.

"It must have been very difficult," Soonyoung said gently, "taking care of the estate while you were worried about your father's health."

You looked down at his fingers entwined with yours and sighed. His touch was warm and comforting.

"It was not easy," you confessed. "I lost my mother very young and my father was all I had. I was never a very social person. Without a mother or a sister to chaperone me I… I never even spent much time in society or at balls."

Soonyoung was quiet, but you could tell that he was listening.

"I had always felt alone, but it wasn't until my father passed that I realised how alone I really was," you continued. "He had wanted me to marry before he died but his health became worse suddenly…"

Soonyoung squeezed your hand.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

You bit your lip. You had never spoken to anyone about this before and it felt almost cathartic to confess it all to Soonyoung.

"The day after my father died, all the vultures descended."

"Vultures?" Soonyoung asked, confused.

"One of my father's oldest friends- a nobleman more than twice my age- proposed marriage to me before my father had even been properly buried. When I refused him, he was furious. Another came to the funeral and told me that as a lady I couldn't possibly manage the duchy and that if I signed it over to him, he would take care of it for me and give me an allowance."

Soonyoung stared at you in disbelief.

"Monsters," he mumbled.

Your lower lip trembled. "There were more offers… some cruder than others. I began to realise that as long as I remained unmarried, I would continue to have a painted target on my forehead. But I had nobody to trust. That was when I finally reached out to Viscount Hong."

Soonyoung blinked. "But he is happily married."

You nodded. "That made it easier to trust him. I knew the Viscount from my youth, of course, but plenty of people that I knew from my youth had since revealed themselves to be untrustworthy. Viscount Hong was the only person who did not want anything from me and genuinely treated me as a friend. That is why I could confide in him. I sought his help to find a husband."

Soonyoung finished his glass of wine and then turned to look at you- his gaze was a little unfocused and you realised that he had drunk too much of the wine. The bottle lay empty on the bedside table.

"Wouldn't you rather have married him instead?"

Your eyes widened. "Soonyoung!"

His lower lip stuck out, almost in a pout as he leaned his head against one of the pillows lazily. His tone was contemplative. "It's hardly outrageous. Viscount Hong is rich, handsome, very charming…"

"And as you pointed out yourself, quite happily married," you protested.

"But you must have considered it?"

You blinked down at your husband. He did not seem angry; his eyelids seemed heavy but he forced them open to look up at you. It was genuine curiosity in his eyes and you felt obligated to answer him with honesty.

You sighed. "I will admit that I considered Viscount Hong quite handsome when we were younger- although I dare you to find a young lady in the ton, married or single, who did not feel the same way about him at some point. He is quite attractive but no, I do not think I ever seriously considered marrying him."

"Why not?"

"I am not sure we would have suited each other."

"But you thought I suited you?"

You looked down at Soonyoung. His cheek was pressed against the pillow and his face was flushed. It had been a long day; he was clearly struggling to stay awake and his voice was beginning to sound slurred.

"I did," you replied quietly.

"Why-why did you marry me?" he mumbled.

You took a deep breath. Frankly, you were surprised that Soonyoung had not asked you this question much, much sooner. It had quite clearly been on his mind. Stranger yet was that you dreaded being asked this question- it forced you to confront feelings that you were not sure you were ready to face.

"I-"

There was a soft snore from the pillow. You looked down in surprise- Soonyoung had fallen asleep. His mouth was still slightly open and his face flushed. You giggled and leaned down to kiss his soft cheek.

"Good night, Your Grace."

—----------------------------------------------

The first few weeks of your 'honeymoon period', as many called it, with Soonyoung were perhaps some of the happiest days you had ever spent. The Graham manor (a place that had never been a source of much happiness for you, and had become a source of misery since your father's death) was suddenly lit up by Soonyoung's mere presence.

He resolved to learn about the estate. You discovered that, despite his seeming lack of confidence, Kwon Soonyoung could do anything if he set his mind to it. There was a steely determination that seemed to overtake him when it came to matters of the estate and dukedom.

Even Mr. Johnson, the stiff and difficult-to-please estate manager, admitted to you that he was impressed with the way Soonyoung had taken charge of the dukedom.

"His Grace insisted upon meeting the peasants himself," Mr. Johnson told you in confidence. "I assumed it was a vanity trip; some of the noblemen like to lord their wealth before the commoners. But His Grace actually walked through the fields instead of taking his carriage and spoke to each of the peasants individually to understand their troubles."

You blinked in surprise. "Did my father ever do that?"

Mr. Johnson chuckled. "No. The late Duke would make the peasants travel up to the manor if they had complaints and to submit their taxes. It took them all day- and meant that they couldn't tend to the fields."

"This way is better, then."

"Personally, I think some distance between the common folk and nobility should be maintained," Mr. Johnson said stiffly. "Yet I cannot find it in me to fault His Grace's methods. The other day, he resolved a land dispute that some of the peasants have been having for years… I wish I had been there to see it, but I was not at the site. It seems he convinced them to come to a mutual settlement."

You blinked. "How?"

"I wish I knew. He mediated it himself- they have come to accept His Grace's authority even in such a short time."

You were surprised as well. As the Duchess, you were hardly disliked but it had been ingrained in you from a young age to keep your distance from the peasants and be and be wary of everyone and everything.

You were respected- but Soonyoung was beloved. He had such an amiable nature that in a matter of months, almost everyone in the duchy had fallen in love with him.

You were no exception.

From the peasants, to the villagers, to the servants at the manor… everyone agreed that the new Duke of Graham was nothing short of a bright ray of sunshine.

Soonyoung's dedication to his new role as Duke did not mean that he was any less dedicated to his role as a husband. He spent his evenings solely with you. You shared long walks in the gardens and often indulged in some wine before bed. Separate bed-chambers were not uncommon among married couples of the nobility, but you and Soonyoung had never felt the need for them.

"We shall have to return to London soon," you told him one morning over breakfast as you both perused the post. "Her Majesty has specifically asked me to join her court now that I am married, and you will need to take your place in court among the other Dukes as well…"

Soonyoung blinked at you in surprise. "Has the Queen really written to you personally?"

You bit your lip. "She has always taken a personal interest in me. My mother was quite close to the Queen; she would not have issued the decree which allowed me to keep the title otherwise. I cannot risk offending Her Majesty."

Soonyoung nodded. "Then we shall return as Her Majesty commands."

You suddenly felt anxious. "Maybe it was foolish of me, but I did not invite many Dukes and Earls to our wedding. At least not the vultures. They are certainly upset at my decision not to marry any of them, and I am worried they may be unpleasant upon our return-"

Soonyoung reached across the table and placed his hand on yours gently.

"It will be fine. We will handle it together."

You smiled at him gratefully. "Thank you, Soonyoung."

"When do we leave?"

"In two days."

—----------------------------------------------------

You were miserable as the carriage approached your London manor and you felt the familiar thickness of the city air.

The court, the ton, and the intricate politics and pettiness of elite society had never been to your taste. You were by no means bad at it. Putting on a fake smile and pandering to society was a skill you had mastered early on in life, but it gave you almost no pleasure.

You would have stayed at the estate with Soonyoung forever, if only it was possible.

"Your Grace!" the butler greeted you politely as you stepped into the familiar luxurious manor and the servants rushed to carry your belongings inside. You turned- but the butler was addressing your husband. "There are a number of letters here for you."

Soonyoung took them and frowned as he rifled.

"Letters already?" you wondered.

"I wrote ahead to some of my friends that I was returning to London," Soonyoung admitted shyly. "Mr. Kim wishes to know when I will come by the gentleman's club for a game of cards. Viscount and Viscountess Hong have invited us to a dinner party on Saturday. And this is from… who is the Duke of Kent?"

You winced. "A disgusting old fellow."

"He invites me to join him on a hunting trip tomorrow with some other gentlemen," Soonyoung replied. He looked at you sheepishly. "I… am not particularly good at hunting."

You waved a hand dismissively. "Neither is the Duke of Kent."

"I suppose I should accept his invitation then. Perhaps Mr. Yoon will give me some tips about using a shotgun beforehand…" Soonyoung muttered thoughtfully, as he walked away to find an ink and pen to answer the invitations.

You felt a strange anxiety in the pit of your stomach.

"Soonyoung…"

He paused. "Yes, dear?"

"I know I have said this before, but some of these Dukes can be very unpleasant and manipulative, and I…" you trailed off, not sure how to explain yourself.

You were worried for him. You were worried at the thought of your kind, caring husband alone with those manipulative noblemen who had decades of experience in the art of politics and under-handedness. Soonyoung's expression softened as he came back to you and leaned down to place a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Do not worry, Your Grace," he said gently.

"I will not be able to join you hunting, I am required to meet with the Queen tomorrow," you reminded him.

"As you must."

Soonyoung seemed more confident. Perhaps his success at managing the duchy and popularity with the peasants had left him feeling more comfortable about his position as a Duke. Yet, you could not help but feel that your husband was about to be thrown in the lion's den unprepared.

You had supper together before going to bed. As was common, the enormous London manor had separate bedrooms for the Duke and Duchess but Soonyoung always found his way to your bedroom after dark. On your first night in London, he arrived much later than usual, after you had already settled under the covers.

"I got lost," Soonyoung mumbled to you in apology as he blew out your candle and slid under the covers beside you. His arm wrapped around your waist as you giggled.

"Lost, again?"

He huffed, pressing his cheek to your shoulder. "This is my first night at the London manor. It took me over a month to find my way around the manor at the estate. Now I must acquaint myself with a completely new building full of winding corridors."

You giggled. "I'll have the butler draw you a map in the morning. Good night, Your Grace."

"Good night."

—-----------------------------------------------------------

Soonyoung left for his hunting trip at dawn and you had to leave soon afterwards for your engagement with the Queen. Her Majesty received you warmly in her tea parlour with some of the other ladies-in-waiting, and her sharp eyes scanned you as soon as you had taken your seat.

"You look different, Duchess," the Queen told you bluntly.

You bowed politely. "Do I, Your Majesty?"

"Yes. Marriage suits you. I can't be the first person to have told you this. I have seen excellent young ladies destroyed by entering into the wrong marriage, and it pleases me to see that this does not seem to be the case with you. Tell me; are you happy?"

You bit your lip and nodded. "I am, Your Majesty."

"We could have found you a Prince, you know."

You smiled at her graciously. "I am very grateful, Your Majesty. But I have a responsibility to my dukedom and my title- I could not abandon my family heritage to become a Princess."

The Queen nodded and sipped her tea. One of the other court ladies- the Countess Harrison- took the opportunity to speak.

"Our dear Duchess is, as always, thinking about responsibilities that are not hers to bear," the Countess Harrison said with a titter. "Perhaps it is time you left your dukedom to the men and learned something from the other ladies about womanly responsibilities."

You sighed. You had long learned to pick your battles carefully with the court ladies.

"And what are these womanly responsibilities, Countess?" you wondered.

The Countess giggled. "Why, of course; bearing sons to continue the noble bloodline! Surely your family will not petition Her Majesty again to allow you to pass the title onto someone else, simply because you did not bear enough sons?"

"Enough sons?" you asked. You were not taking her conversation seriously at all- frankly, you were more interested in the lemon cakes being served than anything the Countess had to say.

"But of course! You must have enough sons. Children sometimes die prematurely, it is an unfortunate reality."

You stirred some sugar into your tea. "So fear of your children dying is the reason your husband has sired so many bastards? If little Jonathan should die of fever, then at least your maid's bastard son can take over the Earldom. The continuation of the noble Harrison bloodline may depend upon it," you remarked coolly.

The Countess flushed a furious shade of red. Some of the other court ladies giggled. They were no friends of yours, but they also did not have much loyalty to each other.

The Queen looked at you with a friendly twinkle in her eye.

"Now, now, Duchess. We are all delighted to see you happily married, but you must not be so mean to our Countess here," the Queen said lightly. Her tone was playful.

"My apologies, Your Majesty," you said half-heartedly.

The Queen rose. "I wish to step outside onto the balcony. Accompany me, Duchess."

It was a statement and one that silenced the other court ladies immediately. The Queen had never been shy about the fact that you were her favourite court lady. Your mother had been her close personal friend, and despite their best efforts, none of the other court ladies had been able to wriggle their way into the Queen's good books quite like your family.

You offered your arm to the Queen, who led you outside to the balcony and called for her snuffbox. Then she turned to you with a raised eyebrow.

"Do you remember what I told you when you arrived in London a few months ago- after your father's death?" the Queen asked.

You bit your lip. "Of course, Your Majesty. You told me that as a Duchess, nothing could come before my duty to the title and my dukedom, and that I would have to make my decisions carefully."

The Queen nodded. "Do you think it was sound advice?"

"I do, Your Majesty."

"Have you followed it?"

You hesitated and the Queen's sharp eyes did not miss the look on your face. She glanced back at the parlour where the court ladies were still having tea and then raised an eyebrow at you.

"I-I have tried, Your Majesty," you replied.

"Then you should have no problem telling me why you chose to put your entire family's legacy in the hands of a poor second son without a penny to his name."

You swallowed.

"Well?" the Queen asked. "Can you?"

"... I cannot."

—-------------------------------------------------------

You were drained of energy by the time you returned to the manor. The butler informed you that your husband had still not returned from his hunting trip, and that he had sent word for you to have supper without him.

You ate and went to bed but somehow, you could not sleep alone. You had become too used to Soonyoung's warm body against yours. He always tucked you in close to him with an arm around you and his soft and steady breathing was what helped you sleep. Without him, the room was too silent.

You waited for Soonyoung to return, but the clock struck midnight and he was still not back. You wrapped a robe around yourself and went downstairs.

The butler ran to you."Do you require anything, Your Grace-"

"Had the Duke still not returned from the hunting trip?" you demanded.

The butler looked confused.

"His Grace returned a few hours ago. He was tired and went straight to his bedchambers."

You blinked and nodded before dismissing the butler. Perhaps Soonyoung was too tired to risk getting lost in the manor in search of your room, and had gone to sleep in his own bedchambers. You went back upstairs and hurried to the bedchamber that you knew to be your husband’s.

You knocked on the door. "Soonyoung?"

There was no response. You turned the handle.

It was locked.

An unsettling feeling came across you. You could not think of why Soonyoung would lock the door to his bedchamber. You often had to remind him even to just close the door- he had a careless habit of leaving doors completely ajar.

There were footsteps on the stairs. Some of the servants were awake, and you decided to return to your own bedchambers instead of causing a scene.

—----------------------------------------------------

You awoke to find Soonyoung had already left the manor. The butler informed you that the Duke had gone to visit his friends Mr. Kim Mingyu and Mr. Lee Seokmin, and would be back in time to accompany you to the dinner party at Viscount Hong's.

You tried not to read too much into it. Soonyoung had lived in London for a long time, and his friends were undoubtedly eager to meet him upon his return.

You wondered if you would have had an easier time making friends if it had not been for your title.

You kept yourself occupied for most of the day with your correspondence and answering invitations that flooded in from members of the ton who had learned you were back in London. The social season was drawing to a close and there were plenty of balls and events crammed into the next week. You could not possibly attend them all, nor did you wish to.

Soonyoung finally returned in the evening. The carriage waited outside to take you both to the Viscount's home, and you smiled in relief at the sight of your husband.

"Soonyoung!" you greeted him warmly. "I did not see you last night. How did the hunting trip go?"

Soonyoung grimaced as he helped you into the carriage. "I couldn't shoot anything," he told you honestly. "But neither did the Duke of Kent so at least I was not the worst hunter there. The Viscount shot a rather plump pheasant."

"Viscount Hong was there?"

"Yes, thankfully," Soonyoung muttered. You eyed your husband anxiously as the carriage took off. He was quiet, but it was not entirely unusual for Soonyoung to sometimes be more quiet and withdrawn. He often did it when he was focusing, or thinking deeply about something.

"Did you enjoy your morning with Mr. Kim and Mr. Lee?" you asked lightly.

Soonyoung nodded. "Oh-yes."

"What did you do?"

"We only played cards and talked about how they've been during the last few months. I didn't bet much money on the cards," he added quickly.

You blinked, confused. "I am not worried about you gambling, Soonyoung."

He flushed. "Yes- of course."

The carriage arrived at the Viscount's grand manor and you both descended. Soonyoung offered you his arm and you took it.

The Viscount and Viscountess were waiting to greet you at the entrance. Viscount Hong smiled, while his wife embraced you and congratulated you and Soonyoung warmly on your marriage. They guided you to the drawing room where about ten or eleven other guests were already gathered. You saw the Earl Harrison, the Duke of Kent and some of the other unpleasant old noblemen along with their wives.

"Perhaps we should have looked more closely at the guest list before accepting this particular invitation," you mumbled to your husband. Soonyoung did not smile or agree with you. His expression was grim and he seemed uncomfortable. .

"Ah; the new Duke and Duchess of Graham!" the Earl Harrison greeted you loudly. You forced a smile. He was a disgusting man with a reputation for sleeping with his servants, and you had no respect for him.

"Earl Harrison," you replied politely.

"We had the pleasure of hunting with your husband just yesterday. Rather unfortunate that you did not enquire whether he could handle a shotgun before you married him!"

You felt Soonyoung stiffen beside you and gave the Earl a sharp look.

"I did not consider proficiency with a shotgun to be one of my primary requirements in a husband, sir," you replied coolly.

The Earl raised an eyebrow. "Indeed? Well, it leaves one to wonder…"

"Wonder what, exactly?" you demanded.

"Why you married him, of course."

You felt a burst of irritation. You were normally much better at controlling your anger and keeping calm, but the Earl's snide remarks about Soonyoung wound you up more than they should have. Your jaw clenched but before you could respond, the Viscount and Viscountess inserted themselves into the conversation.

"Earl Harrison!" the Viscountess said with a kind smile. "You must allow the Viscount to show you his new hunting rifles in the gallery. Perhaps you would be interested as well, Your Grace?"

You were furious but the Viscountess was the master of smoothing things over. She quickly ushered the gentlemen into the gallery to look at the rifles, and then took your arm and pulled you aside.

"Are you all right?" the Viscountess asked you gently.

You nodded. "Thank you."

She sighed. "I am afraid Earl Harrison forcefully wrested an invitation to tonight's dinner from Joshua yesterday. I did not want to invite him at all, especially after I heard what he was saying about you and the Duke during the hunting trip."

You stiffened. "What has he been saying about myself and the Duke?"

The Viscountess looked upset. "Nothing of any substance, only some nasty remarks about why you might have married the Duke. It's all baseless, really, everyone knows that-"

"Has he been saying these things in front of the Duke?"

The Viscountess bit her lip. "I do not know."

"I want to know what he is saying."

She sighed. "I am really not sure that you do…"

The Viscountess was a lovely woman, and the last thing you wanted was to create a scene in her home. But you were angry; you needed to know what this foolish Earl was running his mouth about. You had tolerated his insults long enough, and you would not allow him to insult your husband as well.

You went into the gallery where a number of gentlemen were gathered looking at the Viscount's new hunting rifles. Earl Harrison was standing a short distance away and talking to the Duke of Kent. He made no attempt to even lower his voice.

"-women have too much power these days, I tell you. Outrageous that the Duchess should have been given a title at all. That calculating wench knew that if she married one of us, she would be put in her rightful place immediately. So what does she do? Marries a poor man without connections or a fortune so that she can control him like a puppet!"

The Duke of Kent laughed. "Naturally, naturally. She wanted a young man she could keep under her thumb. The poor Duke does not realise she is emasculating him entirely. Pathetic excuse for a man."

You saw red.

How dare they? How dare these disgusting men stand there and say these vile things about you and your husband in public? Had they said similar things within earshot of Soonyoung?The thought made your blood boil

"Would you like to repeat that so that I can be sure what you are saying?" you demanded loudly.

The room fell silent. All conversation ceased.

Soonyoung and the Viscount Hong were standing a few feet away, and you saw your husband watching you with wide eyes.

"W-what?" Earl Harrison sputtered.

"I asked if you would like to repeat yourself," you said coldly. "Surely I must have misheard you. Surely you could not have been standing here and openly insulting the Duke and Duchess of Graham, who outrank you in every possible way. That would be a very foolish thing to do, don't you agree?"

The Duke of Kent smiled abominably. "My dear Duchess, you must not go into hysterics-"

"Then perhaps your and the Earl should avoid giving me reason to go into hysterics, Your Grace. Or have you forgotten who is the Queen's close confidante? Who receives letters and invitations to tea from Her Majesty personally? Allow me to refresh your memory, Earl Harrison. It is certainly not you or your stupid wife."

The Earl paled. "I have never had a woman dare to speak to me this way-'

"You do not want to make an enemy of me, Earl Harrison. I will not waste my time with backhanded gossip and failed petitions to the Crown. One word from me can persuade Her Majesty to strip you of your entire title and estate in a heartbeat. I will undo your generations-long lineage in an instant. Do not test me."

The Duke of Kent frowned. "That is quite enough!"

"I agree," you replied sharply. "I have had quite enough. My husband is a hundred times the man you will ever be, and the next time you worry about anyone being emasculated, you would do well to remember that a woman is in charge of the Crown and your life."

Soonyoung was staring at you with wide eyes, as you walked over to him and took his arm.

"We are leaving," you said firmly. The rest of the room watched in stunned silence. "I apologise for the intrusion, Viscount and Viscountess Hong. Thank you for your hospitality."

You took your husband's arm and walked out.

—----------------------------------------------

Soonyoung said nothing in the carriage ride home.

You could not speak either; the adrenaline was still pumping in your veins. You had never addressed anyone in that manner, much less an Earl and a Duke. They had said worse things about you in the past, you were sure, and it had not made you angry. But the idea of them saying these things about Soonyoung made your blood boil.

"Perhaps we should go to bed early," Soonyoung mumbled as he left straight for his bedchambers. You had never seen him look so tired and withdrawn.

You followed him upstairs to his bedchamber and called out to him just as he was about to slip inside and close the door behind him.

"Soonyoung, wait."

"I'm tired-"

"Please don't close the door."

There was a long pause and he finally opened the door again, allowing you inside. You took a deep breath and entered, sitting on the edge of his bed as you thought about what to say to him. Soonyoung stood patiently near the door and watched you for a long moment before finally speaking.

"It's all right," he said quietly. "You don't need to worry, Your Grace."

You blinked at him. "What?"

"I knew this was a marriage of convenience. You were always honest with me. I would be a fool if I resented you for it just because some Earl said it aloud. I knew perfectly well what this marriage was when I agreed to it."

Your heart dropped.

"Soonyoung, no-"

"I know you were in a difficult position, and you needed to marry someone who would not dare to exercise power over you or the dukedom. It is a rational decision to make."

Your throat felt tight.

"Don't call it that-"

"I am saying it is perfectly understandable and rational-"

"But it's not!" you cried. You rose and stood in front of him, grabbing his cold hands. For some reason you suddenly, desperately needed Soonyoung to understand what you were telling him. "Rational? Choosing you was not a rational decision, Soonyoung. Far from it; it was possibly the least rational thing I have ever done in my life."

Soonyoung's hands were limp in yours but his dark eyes flashed.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

You took a deep breath and looked up at your husband. You had not expected to open up to him, or to reveal your vulnerabilities to him tonight, but it was now or never.

"It was an impulse, pure impulse. I was so tired of always doing the right thing, the expected thing. If I was being rational then I would have married a Baron or a Lord. Heaven knows there are plenty of them to be had."

Soonyoung was quiet. "Why didn't you?'

"The night we met- at the ball when we danced- I know it was only a few moments but you made me smile. I felt happy with you. For the first time in my life, I felt something that wasn’t just duty or obligation or responsibility. I felt like this nightmare of a life might be bearable if I could share it with someone like you," you confessed quietly.

Soonyoung's expression had softened and his dark eyes looked down at you with a sudden gentleness and vulnerability.

"But we hardly knew each other-"

"Which is why it wasn't a rational or calculated decision. The decision to marry you wasn't made for the good of the dukedom or the title. I made it for the most selfish of reasons- my own happiness. It was worse than irrational. It was a rebellion against everything my father expected from me."

Soonyoung's lower lip trembled. "You must have regretted it, then."

"I thought I might," you admitted shakily. "For the first few weeks after I proposed to you, I was terrified that I was making a mistake. But Soonyoung… you never gave me a single chance to regret it. At every turn, you only showed me, over and over again, that I made the right choice."

"Do you mean that?"

You lifted your hand to cup his cheek.

"I love you," you told him firmly and honestly.

Soonyoung kissed you. It was a soft, gentle, loving kiss and you wrapped your arms around his neck as he pulled you into his warm embrace. You gasped against his lips and he slowly pulled back and pressed his forehead against yours.

"I love you too," he whispered.

Your heart swelled with happiness. "Do you mean it?" you asked him softly. "Just moments ago, you were calling this a marriage of convenience-"

Soonyoung's lips curved into a smile as he cupped your cheeks.

"Because I thought you felt that way. How could I not love you? You are a divine angel that came into my life. Some days I wake up and look at you beside me and think that I must be in some kind of dream, because I don't know what I did to deserve your love and trust."

Your lower lip trembled. "That's not true-"

"It is. I love you."

You wrapped your arms around his neck tightly and buried your face into his shoulders. Soonyoung embraced you and you breathed in your husband's warm, familiar scent.

"Then don't ever close that door again."”

"I won't," he promised. "I won't."

—------------------------------------------------------

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #hoshi scenarios #seventeen x reader #hoshi x reader #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen angst #hoshi fluff #regency!au #seventeen imagines

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wing-ed-thing · 5 months

Text

... And the Beast (Yonji Vinsmoke x Reader) Part II

Synopsis: You thought your little crush on Prince Yonji was a well-kept secret. Yonji is mean enough to exploit your eagerness to please in the face of his unrelenting cruelty; the thought of actually developing a soft spot for you never even crossed his mind.

Word Count: 4.5k

Tags/Warnings: Naive!Servant!Reader, No Reader Pronouns, Canonically Mean Vinsmokes, But Reader is Kinda Into It, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Wall Punching, Language, Reader Falls First, Yonji Falls Harder

Part I Part II Part III

Notes: My draft of this story in it's entirety is over 14k... and I haven't even gotten to the scene I wanted to write.

The two of you met by mere happenstance, and it was even rarer that the library was ever docked onto an important area of Germa. Spring marked the time for a seasonal cleaning. So, like every year before, the laboratory grunts were to store old accounts in the library and perform an overhaul of laboratory references, guarded by one of Judge’s children.

Yonji had been assigned guard duty this year, although the responsibility didn’t include much besides docking his fleet around the two storage snails. The men working in the laboratory would march back and forth carrying records and books, and you would assist in arranging your new inventory.

Aside from the one bulky book tower, the library ship didn't comprise much. The impressive structure took up nearly the entirety of the support snail, sporting several conical turrets and a grand archway in the center. The stone arch formed a closed bridge-like structure connecting the two towers. The northern wing housed important but dated scientific records, while the southern wing stored traditional texts.

With the bridge sitting near the eyestalks and the crew’s quarters located in the disconnected basement of the southern tower, paper took up more of the library snail than people did.

Given how little traffic typically went through the library tower, inventory day marked your snail’s busiest day of the year. Approximately five ships anchored around you, not including the laboratory, which was attached directly to your snail. You considered yourself lucky to have soldiers and technicians helping with the sheer volume of inventory, which had been shipped in bulk and hauled onto the library snail via a lift.

Yonji’s ship had docked directly onto the library snail. You remembered when you spotted his green raid suit from the library’s grand window, barking orders and taking command of the troops below. The ensuing wave of emotion nearly knocked you off your feet, a pit of fluttering anxiety festering at the pit of your stomach as you retreated outside to greet him.

You could recall every stone step down from the second tower and into the arch, and before you knew it, you were across the short yard. You greeted him formally and bowed. You were sure you were shaking.

Every other member of Germa 66 had served as a guard for you in the past during this occasion. Ichiji and Niji had been assigned to you once each, while Reiju had been several times in the past. But Yonji, in all the time you had been acting as the royal library attendant, had never made an appearance before this past spring.

He didn’t regard you with much, his indifference a stark contract to your acute, starstruck trembling. You bowed politely, blathering something about your job and a promise to do it well. Yonji stared you down with nothing less than annoyance and slight disgust, which, unbeknownst to you, would mark a recurring theme. And that had been your unremarkable first meeting with the fourth prince of Germa.

Like his siblings before him, Yonji didn’t involve himself much in your affairs. He seemed just about as interested in the reorganization process as he was in you, and you doubted that he’d even do a walkthrough when everything was finished, like Ichiji or Reiju. Instead, he busied himself with what you could only assume was his usual training regiment on the extended courtyard just outside the library window of the southern tower.

You saw him occasionally, catching a glimpse of green as you walked back and forth between the northern and southern towers with the inventory. And to your surprise, Yonji and his men remained active from the time the library organization team began in the morning until sunset, far later than even the inventory team worked. (The inventory team rose early and stopped in the mid-afternoon.)

You sat in your usual plush chair by the window, the commotion just outside becoming a part of your nightly routine as you read your book in the glow of the sunset. You didn’t even catch yourself staring, drifting off in thought as you watched Yonji interact with the men outside.

A little voice squeaked your name. You blinked to yourself, trying not to appear as caught off guard as you felt. The cook’s twin children sat on the velvet rug at your feet, eyes squinting in the setting sun's light. The little girl sat hunched, her hands gripping the ankles of her crossed legs, while the little boy lay sprawled out on the rug.

“Sorry, I thought I saw something outside,” you muttered a quick apology before clearing your throat to start again. “‘Well, Father, said Beauty, ‘as the Beast will accept either you or one of your daughters, I will give myself up to his fury, as it is on my account you have been involved in this trouble…’”

You continued to read aloud. Due to the archive ship’s distance from most of the larger snails, the library housed a single cook in a single, below-deck kitchen to support the small staff of you and a handful of soldiers and crew. And, like a surprising amount of non-combatant employees of Germa, the cook had children.

However, children under the age of twelve were not allowed to roam freely within their respective parts of the caste, and once they were of working age, they were expected to learn servant’s skills. But considering the isolation of the library snail and the few staff members who stepped into the archive at all, you could afford to bend the rules a bit. But with a member of the royal family visiting, one of your many priorities was keeping the children quiet and occupied, especially after dinner.

By the time you closed your book, your voice was beginning to sound hoarse, and the sun had completely set outside. The kids on your rug yawned with drooping eyes. You peered at the clock. You had kept them for far later than you intended to, but you supposed it was better that they were a bit late to bedtime rather than getting into trouble around the ship when the prince was visiting.

“Why can’t we play outside? We usually play outside after stories, and we haven’t been outside in weeks.” the boy groaned, tensing his arms and legs in a full-body stretch before letting them hit the rug below. “We’re gonna get vitamin D deficiency and die.”

“Nice try. It’s been two days, and it’s nighttime.”

The two children huffed. The girl stood and moved to the window to look out at the makeshift courtyard from the windowsill. She stood on her toes, barely able to peer out the glass. The boy rolled onto his stomach before pushing himself to his feet to join her.

You quickly bolted up with them, ready to pull the two from the window. While you had no issue with the twins listening to a story in the library as the archive’s sole keeper, you anticipated that Prince Yonji might not take terribly well to being ogled at by small, unwelcome children as his battalion trained.

But to your surprise, all of the soldiers were gone. You glanced at the clock again. You supposed that even people like Yonji had to sleep at some point.

“C’mon, shark bites.” You set the book of stories on the round table next to your chair. “Let’s get you back downstairs.”

The twins protested but were too tired to put up much of a fight. You scooped the boy up into your arms. He tucked his head into the nape of your neck, just about falling asleep instantly. You took the girl by the hand, ready to lead them out of the second tower and around the back to the two cellar doors leading to the servant’s quarters.

Just as you pushed open the doors with your foot to corral the two into the hallway, you could have sworn you heard movement. You were too focused to pay it any mind.

***

It took several days for the books and files to be properly organized into their respective archives—and several evenings of extended, after-dinner storytime sessions—but as had happened every year before, the operation went smoothly. The moment he heard that everything was finished, Yonji immediately called all his men back to their respective ships to depart.

“Master Yonji?” You trailed behind him, attempting to keep up with his wide-paced stride. Yonji paid no mind to you as he barked orders across the deck. “I don’t mean to insert myself into your affairs, but might I ask if you intend on performing a walk-through inspection? Mistress Reiju often likes to make notes concerning the new orientation to communicate with Lord Judge. And we’ve actually reoriented the delta files a level down this year—”

Yonji suddenly turned on his heel, causing you to smack into him. You recoiled, trying to resist the urge to grab at your nose. You might as well have walked straight into a wall.

“I don’t remember asking for direction from you.”

The two of you stopped in the middle of the archway, his form barely shaded by its shadow. Yonji stared you down with his dark irises. You took a file out from under your arm.

“I—”

Yonji’s fist swiftly struck the wall next to your head. He had backed you up against the wall, now towering over you. The stone behind you crumbled as your knees locked together. Yonji hovered over you, letting out a steady stream of hot, irritated air from his nose.

You were unaware of how his lips pulled slightly down and of Yonji’s rapid analysis of your face. Instead, your gaze remained solely on the gloved fist next to your head.

That was the first time Yonji saw that spark in your eye. Your lips formed a passive line, but the shine of authentic amazement that glimmered in your gaze betrayed you. You held a crushing grip on the files in both hands, and neither you nor Yonji mistook the beat your heart skipped as fearful.

He withdrew his fist, leaving the large divot in the stone. More fractured pieces fell, clacking on the solid ground below.

Neither of you moved, nor did you say a word.

You weren’t afraid of him, and Yonji should have been angered. If it were anyone else, he would have been. He stared down at you; his mouth contorted into a wolfish grin as he quickly decided he could make an exception for that stupid gleam of admiration in your eyes. You knew your place, Yonji considered, and it was marveling at his strength.

Your fate was sealed.

***

Yonji hadn’t wanted you at his quarters the morning of his mission in Speleothem, nor did he call for you for the rest of the day. And so, for the first time in the last few months, you spent your time in the library, tending to the archive.

You stood in the middle of the largest chamber of the southern tower, basking in the sunlight that flooded through the large window with a few books in your arms. You breathed in the smell of paper and sea air. It was a clean scent and one that you missed now that you spent so much of your time in the main castle.

You wheeled over the rolling ladder, positioning it right next to the gap you could see a few shelves up. With the three texts tucked into your elbow, you climbed the rungs. The encyclopedias had been slightly stained by dirt and significantly roughed up by the Vinsmoke princes’ target practice, but the damage was nothing a rebinding couldn’t fix.

The first book filled the gap on the shelf perfectly. Ichiji spent some time picking out his selection when the three princes entered your library. His intention to use the book as a part of his target practice didn’t stop him from picking out a pragmatic option: a collection of writings about early forms and types of gunpowder.

You ventured up the steps to the balcony, finding your next spot near the ceiling by the window. Niji had selected the bulkiest and hardest-to-reach text he could find within reach with the help of his jet-propelled boots. However, his efforts stopped at the very top of the stairs. Despite his intentions to torment you, his apparent curiosity seemed to fade with the effort of venturing up to the balcony. You placed the book in its spot, the compilation of weather patterns, maps, and navigational information making for a tight fit.

Yonji had selected the last book, although his choice didn’t appear to have much reason behind it. You were sure he was going to take the book you already had out. A piece of the late queen’s collection, the completed set of folk stories and fairy tales from all four blues had a near-permanent residence next to your usual reading chair. You pulled it enough to read to the twins, if not to yourself, for nostalgia’s sake.

You remembered how he stopped, head tilted downward, to read the book’s cover. With the two tips of his fingers, Yonji gently turned the book to face him. He had stared at it with his weight shifted to his back leg as he looped a thumb into the front belt loops of his slacks. He looked handsome, you had decided, as he stood posed in the afternoon light.

But Yonji left the book be, instead opting for the first text he saw on the adjacent shelf: a detailed encyclopedia about birds native to the North Blue. It fit right into the space left for it.

A gruff rumble sounded behind you. Your heart nearly jumped as you turned on your heel to see Yonji leaning against the open double doors. He cleared his throat again, pushing off the wall with his shoulder.

“Prince Yonji!” you exclaimed, quickly bowing. “How might I be of service?”

Your heart pounded as you wondered if your eyes were deceiving you. You had been convinced that talking out of term had banished you back to the library for good, but you couldn’t help the deep pang of excited dread that came with Yonji’s rare presence in your archive.

His eyes narrowed to the side as he approached you. The slightest pout played on his lips as he glanced around. His gaze traveled up the curved staircase to your left and along the balcony as far as his peripheral would allow. You rose from your bow.

“What information do you have on Rivulette?” he asked, and his question filled the air.

You replayed his words in your head, wondering if you heard him right. You tilted your head to the side, blinking as you tried to process what he asked of you. Of all people, Prince Yonji Vinsmoke couldn’t possibly be asking for a book— at least not in person or when he could easily search his own electronic database. (It was likely far more accessible than anything in your library, anyway. The library was extensive, but it was an archive at the end of the day.)

“Rivulette, as in, the island?” you questioned. Yonji scoffed. With a few shakes of his head, his lashes fluttered closed.

“Obviously.” He lifted an arm and rotated his shoulder backward to readjust how his usual white, short-sleeved button-up sat around his biceps. Yonji looked off somewhere into the room again with teeth gritted. “Do you have it or not?”

“I think we have some texts on Rivulette, but I don’t know if they’ll be what you’re looking for.” You scurried over to the rolling ladder. Yonji followed indifferently behind you, his scowl still ever-present. “It’s mostly basic geographical—”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he gruffed, standing directly beside where you moved the ladder. He did not hold it for you as you climbed the rungs.

You stopped three steps up, conscious of his watchful gaze, as you pulled a collection of texts from one of the upper shelves. Yonji watched silently from below, although you weren’t too far above his head. At his height, you were sure that Yonji could have pulled the books himself even without the ladder.

“I have a geographical account from about a hundred years ago, an autobiography from Rivulette’s eighth president, Brooke Waters…” You trailed off, tilting the shelved texts to allow Yonji to read the spines. You continued to rattle off the titles of the few books you had, all undoubtedly useless, especially considering the context. Yonji had to have a more extensive and relevant wealth of knowledge in his computer system.

“What’s that one?” Yonji gestured to a text at the very end of the compilation. The spine was easily four inches thick and partially obscured behind a section of your ladder.

“This one?” You pointed to it, glancing down at— or more accurately toward— Yonji, who rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, that one.”

“It’s an encyclopedia with information on native geography, plants, and animals—”

“Give me a summary.”

You blinked at him. Yonji stared back at you, awaiting an answer.

Oh, he was being serious.

“A summary of all the landmarks and wildlife on Rivulette… from the beginning of time?”

Yonji huffed, shifting his weight to his back leg as he pivoted slightly away from you. He ran a hand up his face into his hair with a shake of his head. When he turned back to you, he appeared to do so reluctantly, folding his fingers on his palm in a waving gesture.

“Just… bring ‘em all down,” he groaned again. Yonji placed his hands near the back of his hips, rotating his torso to stretch as he waited for you to complete your task.

You eyed the collection of books. While the amount wasn’t necessarily as extensive as some of your other accumulations, the sum of all the spines easily amounted to an arm’s length. You began at the far end, taking two sizeable texts in your hand. You collected them in the crook of your opposite elbow before reaching back for more.

Yonji observed your efforts with a creased brow and a judgemental dip of his lip. His hands still settled on his hips, although they had balled into scrutinous fists.

The ladder wobbled beneath you as you piled a total of five books into your elbow, balancing yourself only by the strength in your legs. You missed Yonji’s deep scowl as he stepped toward you.

“This is ridiculous” was about all the warning you received before you were scooped off the ladder altogether. Yonji lifted you from below, wrapping a singular, muscular arm diagonally around your hips as he effortlessly placed you on the ground below. He did so unceremoniously and easily, like your body weight— along with the small mountain of books that you nearly dropped on the floor in shock— was nothing.

Yonji moved the ladder out of the way and reached up to grab the rest of the stack with little exertion. Much like how he had forced you out of the way, his actions were straightforward as he supported the pile under his arm. He brushed past you toward the ornate table situated (and screwed down to the floor) just a short distance behind you.

Yonji placed his sizeable stack on the shiny wooden finish, and you put your smaller collection next to his, seeming to be playing catch-up as Yonji took a seat at the head of the table.

“Prince Yonji—?”

“Sit.”

You immediately did as you were told, pulling out a chair adjacent to his as Yonji began to separate the books. He appeared deep in thought, studying the covers briefly before spreading them across the immediate surface. Every so often, he would flick one open to thumb through the pages, grumbling to himself before placing the text in its designated pile.

You studied him, trying to hide your acute surprise as he craned his neck over the encyclopedia from before, his eyes pouring over the glossary. He looked out of place hunched over a large book. For his appearance and general demeanor, you had never thought Yonji to be one for the quiet accumulation of knowledge.

He was, after all, a physical being in all senses of the word. Yonji boasted a bulky build, which strained most of his clothes, and referring to him as tall was a drastic understatement. It wasn’t difficult to see how much pride he took in being Germa 66’s offensive tank, nor was it hard to notice his immense pride in his physical prowess above all things. You didn’t recall ever seeing Yonji eager to sit still very long for anything, more interested in finding nearly anything else as an excuse to test his strength and power.

You should know. You had been the one tending to his every whim for the past few months.

And so he sat at the edge of his chair, his forearm reaching across the top corner of his book to grip the top open and flat with a wide, sturdy grip to read. Yonji slung an ankle over his opposite knee, tilting his head at an awkward angle as he sank further into his light research.

“Commentary.” The word carried a downward inflection like a mix between a demand and a question, but you knew better than to take it as anything less than a command.

The single word stalled your thoughts. Yonji glanced up, his posture gradually reverting upright as he gripped the page he was on to guide the book closed slowly. Your lips parted to speak, but nothing came out. Yonji’s dark irises stared curiously into yours.

“Commentary on…?”

He leaned back in his chair and coiled his arms over his chest. The hem on the cuff of his short sleeves strained on his biceps. The hems of his clothes were always a bit too small for him, but you supposed that Germa 66 went through too many textiles to put much stake into personal tailoring.

“I bet you’ve read every book in this goddamn room,” he said, but his words were spoken like an accusation. Yonji gestured loosely with the bob of his shoulder, glancing briefly at the thousands of books that lined the walls.

You stared down at the encyclopedia, eyes slightly widened as you pondered the best way to answer him.

“I can’t say I’ve read an encyclopedia cover to cover, Prince Yonji,” you spoke quietly.

Yonji let out a bellowing laugh, letting his mouth hang open wide as he threw his head back. But he cut his laughter short, reassuming his almost hunched-over position at the table with a foxlike glint in his eye. Yonji slid the large book over to you before resting his cheek in his palm. His right hand gripped the armrest of his chair, his elbow creating a ninety-degree angle.

“What do ya remember about this one?”

The corners of his lips were upturned, not too dissimilar to how he looked when he was up to something mischievous. But the milliseconds you spent trying to figure him out only revealed the true seriousness that lingered just below the surface.

“Sparking sparrows,” you answered quickly, still unsure as to what he was getting at. Yonji’s frame visibly sunk. The upturned corner of his lips faltered as he glanced off to the side with a deep heave of his chest.

“Birds?” he spat.

“They’re very small but have very sharp beaks,” you offered. Yonji grew less amused by the second, although you didn’t quite understand why. But despite his evident dismay, he motioned for you to continue. You flipped through the pages quickly, pulling up the entry you were looking for. “They let off little sparks, um, and they use this electricity to terrorize wild snails. There are several accounts of them sticking their heads into transponder snail shells. They’ll actually go out of their way to—”

He shook his head with a deepening frown.

“No, what do you remember about the geography?”

You sat at the edge of your seat, your lips pursed into a slight line. One of Yonji’s brows twitched in annoyance, and while you weren’t quite sure what he was looking for, you knew at your very core that your answer was not it.

“It’s very pretty?” You unconsciously shrunk farther away from him, which only served to sharpen your posture. You held a death grip on the lap of your uniform, pooling the fabric in your fingers.

“Ugh, forget it.” Yonji stood suddenly and harshly, causing you to to nearly recoil back into your seat. He slammed his chair into the table, the two hard wooden surfaces coming together with a loud bang before he stalked off. He gestured to the table behind him. “Clean this shit up.”

***

Yonji didn’t like feeling stupid, although he didn’t know what to do with that information other than work off the steam. After an evening of training that was a bit more destructive than it needed to be, dinner, and then a post-workout workout, Yonji finally felt like he had reached an equilibrium.

Yonji didn’t know what he had been thinking. And your eagerness to please, the very trait that Yonji kept you around for, had vexed him that day. You tried to piece together his ambiguous requests, but each question only served to heat his demeanor little by little in annoyance. He didn’t even know what he was looking for when he visited you in the archive, and your simple questions did little more than call attention to how silly he felt in coming to you.

In fact, by the end of his last gym session, he was convinced that it had all been a waste of time. Yonji, a top commander in Germa’s military force, had followed a lead that turned out to be a fluke.

He could make peace with a fluke, he decided. But he had wanted to listen to his gut, and with the memories of Speleothem constantly ruminating in his head since the job, Yonji had always followed his instincts.

But now, he stood in the penthouse office on Rivulette with his siblings. Ichiji and Niji bickered over how to best crack the encrypted snails the client hadn’t told them about in the background. Yonji couldn’t help the heavy pang that reverberated through his chest as he locked onto the window on the opposite end of the room.

He thought he had been shot by something.

“Keep it together, Yonji,” Ichiji gritted. The room was still.

Yonji hardly heard him. His entire focus was on the small bird he spotted perched just outside the window. The bird pecked at the glass, leaving slight scratches with its shallow electric sparks. He walked over to the window, stopping just before the glass. The bird continued to peck, undaunted by the figure that loomed on the other side. The hand that Yonji held over his chest slowly rose to his mouth and over his right eye.

“Oh, man,” he breathed, glancing behind him. Ichiji and Niji continued to bicker.

Yonji turned back toward the bird, and suddenly, a whole night’s worth of thought spiraled down the drain.

Yonji opened the window.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: It would be my honor and privilege to remind everyone that Yonji stands at a whopping 194 cm (6'4"), so no one better come at me for the size difference. That man is a beast (pun intended).

And I spent an obscene amount of time making gifs to use for this series. It's not even funny.

Also, I use a grammar checker that completely messed up and started deleting random words/parts of words in the middle of the text. Please let me know if there's a crazy typo somewhere.

Part I Part II Part III

#yonji x reader #yonji vinsmoke x reader #germa 66 x reader #op x reader #one piece x reader #yonji #yonji vinsmoke #one piece fanfic #one piece fanfiction #op fanfic #x reader #x you #reader insert #germa 66

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