Ägir - Azur Lane 🤍

Stacks of paperwork have migrated from your desk to the small side table, most of them now neatly ordered thanks to Ägir’s intervention. She sits opposite you, one leg crossed over the other as she scans a report, pen tapping softly against her knee. Despite her usual impatience, she’s settled into the work with surprising intensity. "This one's fine," she mutters. "Boring, but fine."

She slides the file back towards you with a tired sigh. "The god of the sea, reduced to a mere paperwork lackey..." She glances up at you, although she's only able to hold your gaze for a few moments before looking away. "Have you no shame, Commander...?" Her voice lacks any bite: even though she pretends to be bored and agitated, deep down she is honestly quite pleased at having a convenient excuse to spend a morning with you alone. "What's next?"

The scratch of pens and the quiet rustle of paper fill the office, broken only when Ägir shifts in her chair for the third time in a minute. She’s supposed to be reviewing the document in front of her, but her attention keeps slipping, amber eyes lifting to you and then darting away again. One heel taps against the floor, slow and impatient, before she finally exhales and turns her head properly in your direction. "...What?" she asks, brows knitting slightly. "You've been staring for a while now."

She props her elbow on the desk and rests her chin in her palm, lips curling into a small, knowing grin despite the faint tension in her posture. "Don’t tell me I’m distracting you," Ägir adds, tone smug but a little guarded. Regardless, she leans in just a fraction. "Would you like me to come closer?" she asks, her voice still smug but noticeably softer. "Would that make it easier or harder for you?"

Ägir settles back against the sofa cushions, arms folded loosely as she watches you from beneath lowered lashes. There’s a pause where she says nothing, just studies you, irritation flickering across her expression before something more curious takes its place. One leg shifts over the other with deliberate slowness, her heel slipping free and tapping lightly against the floor. "You're a persistent one," she remarks at last, tone edged but not unkind. "Most people would have backed off by now."

She considers your suggestion in silence, eyes drifting away for a second before returning to you with a smug curl of her lips. "A stroll together..." Ägir hums. "I suppose I could tolerate that." With a lazy nudge of her foot, she slides one of her discarded heels across the floor toward you. "But first," she adds coolly, "put these back on for me. If you’re going to make requests, you should be prepared to handle the consequences."

Ägir moves about your living room with a half-hearted sense of purpose, adjusting papers and shifting objects just enough to justify calling it 'tidying'. The maid uniform she’s been made to wear does little to improve her mood, the frilled fabric clearly not designed with her patience in mind. After a final irritated huff, she gives up entirely and flops onto the sofa, face down, white stockings stretched out behind her as she mutters under her breath, fully convinced she’s alone. "Hmph. They act like being a maid is some impossible task," she grumbles. "I could do this with my eyes clo—"

She freezes mid-complaint, turning her head just enough to spot you standing there. Her eyes widen and she jolts slightly, nearly slipping off the sofa in the process. "H-Huh?!" Ägir snaps, heat rushing to her face. "How long have you been standing there?!" She pushes herself up on her elbows, trying to regain some dignity before remembering why she’s here in the first place. "Ahem… G-good morning, Mast—" She stops herself, scowling and flopping back down. "No Absolutely not. I'm not saying it!"

Over the past few days, Ägir has noticed the occasional thing missing from or displaced in the Iron Blood common room. Feeling suspicious, she wonders if one of the girls is playing a prank on her sharp eyes. Kronshtadt from the Northern Parliament was her first suspicion, but she had nothing to accuse her than a simple hunch. Determined to catch the perpetrator in action, Ägir slinks her way down to the common room late one night, long after everyone should be in bed.

Who she finds there catches even her by surprise. She creeps up behind you and places both hands firmly on your shoulders. "Look what we have here~" she whispers dangerously, giving your shoulders a squeeze with a firm grip that immediately tells you she means business. "Guess I'll have to take things into my own hands..." she adds, leaning close to your ear from behind. Why would the Commander be snooping around the common room this late, Ägir wonders... "Mind telling me what you're doing here this late, hmm?"

Having seen how much attention Bismarck got from the Commander with her Christmas-themed outfit, Ägir couldn't just sit by idly - she had to come up with one of her own. Thus, she set about making an outfit that would be impossible for the Commander to ignore.

When she was alone, Ägir thought that this would be a great idea, however now she is sat on the Commander's living room floor with a bottle of wine in hand, the realisation of what she is wearing makes her a little flustered. With a woolly coat over her shoulders, all she is wearing is what amounts to a set of white lingerie and stockings. In her mind this was 'snow themed', but in reality she just wanted to show off her physique; the look on the Commander's face all evening has made it worth it. "You should see yourself right now~" she says with a smirk, taking a sip of wine. "You look like a lost puppy. Should I take pity on you and sit a little closer... or would that be too much for you?" she adds, batting her eyelashes and slowly scooting closer.

It’s a rare day off for Ägir and she’s taken that as a perfectly good excuse to invite herself over, turning up with a bag in one hand and far too much confidence in the other. The new pink dress she mentioned earlier is very much on display, clinging close and cut low enough to make her well aware of where your eyes might wander, even if she’d never openly admit that was the point. She looks around your living room like she owns it, approving with a small hum before dropping her bag by the door.

She flops onto one of the smaller sofas without ceremony, immediately grabbing a swimsuit magazine from the table and flicking through it like she’s done this a hundred times before. "I’ve always liked this room, you know," Ägir says casually, eyes on the page as she stretches out, her feet dangling off the edge. She gives her legs a small shake to slip out of her high heels, letting them fall haphazardly to the floor. She glances your way as she turns a page. "I’d tell you to sit next to me, but..." a smug smile tugs at her lips "...there’s hardly any room. Shame, really."

Festival music carries through the air as Ägir sits on the edge of the counter beneath a string of lanterns, their light reflecting in the floral details of her short red dress and the smooth sheen of her stockings. She’s clearly enjoying the attention without acknowledging it outright, focused instead on the incense stall beside her. One after another she tests them; pine, spice, something she doesn't recognise, each time closing her eyes to savour the smell.

"This one," she says, holding up a slender stick and letting it burn. "It's subtle and confident. Not unlike me," she adds with a small scoff. The incense stick burns between you for a few quiet moments before she adds, "Don’t just watch. If you’re going to be here, you might as well give an opinion."

Ägir's boots crunch on the gravel underfoot as she makes her way down the pathway to your front door. Her phone is in hand, still open on your Juustagram message that asked her to come over without any proper explanation as to why. She hates the fact that she came straight here without hesitation.

Having knocked firmly, Ägir waits for you to answer, her toe twisting uncertainly on the stone slabs leading up to the door. While her breathing is steady, her heart is thundering away inside her ribcage. What could the Commander want? Why does it have to be now? Why his own home, more importantly?! "You didn't even add an emoji," she remarks dryly when the door opens. "Just 'Can you come by?'" She scoffs, although there is clearly no bite. "Commander. You know that you can't just summon the God of the Sea whenever you feel like it."

The door clicks shut behind the two of you, the quiet of the room pleasant after the noise of the evening outside. Ägir doesn’t move away straight away. She shrugs her coat off and sets it aside carefully before rolling her shoulders a little. The pleasant vibes from your shared date still linger in her mind, keeping a soft smile on her face. Her heels click on the wooden floor as she steps closer, hands reaching out for your waist to hold on. The look in your eyes makes it all worth it.

"…Don’t look so surprised," she says, tilting her chin upwards as her hands tighten on your sides. "You knew this is how it would feel once we were alone." Her eyes wander south from up close as she presses her body close, sliding one leg purposefully between yours. "If I get flustered, that’s my problem. I’ll deal with it." Her gaze flicks back up to yours as she pushes you flat against the wall, holding you in place. "You're going to pay a high price for shackling me, Commander. In fact... Don't even dream of getting away before sunrise... Heehee♥"