#. ˚ ◞ ♡ VERSE 03 ／ Bury their souls in a cove by the light. Her legs turn to shimmering scales in the night.

[lamiaviridis]

💚     ⸺     ​ @unheald 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬. ┆ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃

once again, he'd found himself waiting until the sun had gone down, had been replaced by the glow of the moon and stars, and the rest of the palace had fallen quiet. paying a visit to the waters had quickly become a favourite pastime, and even though part of him wondered how long it'd be until his playful mischief got him into trouble, he always found himself actively waiting for nightfall, and thinking about the captivating creature that called the waters home. so once again, he'd made his way there - as always, starting off in his usual form until he knew she'd seen him. he wasn't here to cause any harm, after all. just some harmless, playful mischief. -- from loki

She wishes she knew the utmost intimate language of the nine realms, for the mere tongue of mankind does not possess enough terminology to express just how much she had yearned for the shapeshifting deity whom lingered just a few inches from her domain. It was an odd happenstance that had befallen the succubus of the land, siren of the seas. He lingered as a mere human, staring at her from afar with knowing hues of emerald, obsidian strands of hair outlining his countenance ethereally. Suddenly, they approached, stopping just edges from the shore. Her verdant optics remained fixated 'pon the shapeshifter, her fin slapping violently 'gainst the boulder she perched on in an almost rhythmic motion. Then, in a viridescent glow, scales shifted into human legs, if only for the succubus to stand up, gaze still set on Loki.

Standing on the rock, her seemingly human body drenched in sea-water, droplets cascading down ivory skin, she swayed her hips provocatively whilst trapping him within her gaze. This was their ritual, she'd wait for the deity to make the first move, as she always did. Her dance was a siren's call of her own, a silent beckoning, a summoning reserved only for them. The God's lips curled upward in a smile and he began to descend into her water. Her claws sharpened, her teeth elongated, her mouth salivated with raw yearning for him as she watched him envelop himself beneath her waves. A smile found its way unto uncannily picturesque visage. And she lunged into the water, her legs shifting into a fin at just the right moment as she swam towards the illuminating green orb which indicated Loki's form was shifting.

[lamiaviridis]

Swelling adrenalines pique pervaded 'gainst vigorous current, overt infatuation distinguishable from head-to-tail as the siren-succubi submerged further; the sea darkening with the only source of light being the shapeshifter's luminescent glow. She swam into the abyss, and glided forward, her tail gyrating and hues of verdant gazing in anticipation. The creature looks around her with the unbridled jubilation of one whom was never taught what it means to love and has only recently been introduced to the intoxication of it. Perhaps, this is why this game of catch and release with the unknown deity known as Loki elicits neither anger nor aggravation within her. For, she knows they will always return.

And with each recommence of their game, the only feelings befalling her were that of a love so strong, so powerful, she wished to consume him whole. Amora observes his serpent form with a cautious yet curious eye, even as her hand now tenderly kisses the arrow-shaped head of the sea ophidian, yet she quickly drew her hand back before he playfully nipped at her. She swam a few feet away, however she'd quickly come to the realization that Loki's slithering frame had slightly increased in size so that he may comfortably coil around her curvaceous figure. She swallowed, waxing discomposure pullulates upon siren's roseate visage, lips parting, overcome by a sudden speechlessness.

to most, all of this, the way he kept coming back would be arguably foolish. because he knew, had known since that first meeting when she had pulled him beneath the surface with her, that this was quite the dangerous game to play. to keep playing. she might have cupped his face and kissed him, but there had been an air of peril about it all that loki wasn't foolish enough to not notice. but there was something about exactly that, that kept drawing him back, wasn't there? an exhilarating, exciting rush that came with flirting with death. it was alluring to the trickster. appealed to his taste for chaos and unpredictability... and maybe the fact that she always seemed to let him go when she probably could stop him if he wanted, maybe that encouraged him a little too.

she'd caught him with her gaze, held him there while she moved, and it always felt as though she was beckoning him... luring him... reeling in the invisible line that he was hooked on. but it wasn't exactly like he was complaining, was it? one could argue that he was letting her entice him in. and eventually, he'd played his part - took the bait and made his way into the water.

and he knew that she'd be wasting no time, so he wasn't either. the sweep of glowing green passed over him as asgardian form shifted, becoming one of a serpent like body. not too big, not too small, but of course with an appropriate green hue to it. he liked to pick a different form each time, liked to play a slightly different variation of their little cat and mouse game, and when he saw her approaching, he was already beginning to move. only... he wasn't immediately darting away from her. instead, his movements more suggested that he was circling her.

[lamiaviridis]

𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝟎𝟑 : 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐌𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘

Conceived by an incubus and a siren, a product of desirability and enticement, lust and beauty. Creatures born to drain sword-swinging men of their power using their own lust against them and ethereal summoners of foolish sailors and trespassers of sacred waters. Amora was a fusion of both; harboring the upper body of a beautiful woman and the lower body of a fish. On land, she used her magic to hide her horns protruding from her scalp, her bird-like claws, and serpentine tail. In the night, the creature takes the form of a beautiful woman, seducing men and engaging in lustful entanglement with them as a means for survival opposed to love or lust.

Whilst the comfort of her loch can suffice just as much life force, the land of the living fuels the creature's curiosity. Though, she must always return to the seas of Asgard to protect it from intruding sailors. Since the dawn of her existence, Amora has been raised to seduce, destroy, and repeat. Draining life forces using her body and drowning those whom invaded her waters using her voice. Every aspect of her being was a tool used for destruction. Her femininity and sexuality, mere weapons. She envied the Aesirs, envied their beauty as Gods and Goddesses being praised whilst deeming creatures like her monsters. She didn't want to be a monster, she only killed to survive and protect the seas of the very society that shunned her. Yet, she continued this cycle. Because it was all she knew how to do, how to live.

Though, on a particular evening, a happenstance occurred. She sensed a disturbance amongst the tides, like that of a boat, and prepared to strike. She leapt out of the water and lunged for what she assumed was an unsuspecting victim, tumbling beneath the current with them in her arms. She cupped their face in her hands and kissed their lips. Until, suddenly, what appeared to be a man before her, shifted into a fish, a hermaphroditic vessel, slipping from her grasp and escaping. This bewildered Amora, for she's never had anyone deny her before, let alone encountered a shapeshifting deity. This intrigued her. Thus, she gave into chasing after the strange being. Nearly chasing them out of the water, she stopped as she watched them, now in the form of a crow, soaring into the night's sky.

Her heart sank a bit, assuming this was a one-time occurrence, and she retreated to the depths of her sea. The next night, the shapeshifter came to her again. Tempting her with their human form only to then shift into a sea creature for her to chase. Their underwater tango always ended the same, the shapeshifter leaping from the water in the form of a crow and retreating. She knew very little about this shapeshifter, but she knew of their name: Loki. For Amora, someone who felt she had no true purpose in life, just the name of a mystical being who gave her something to look forward to every night was enough.