#sea creature boy

[puriette-archived]

✙𓈒 sea creature boy ❞

a flag for those who are a sea creature and a boy.

dividers by @/iv-ry

[antichrists-plus1]

[They're in love.]

[they-call-me-youngermoney]

"he held me at gunpoint one time"

original post from @/kemafili:

tried planning this out in my sketchbook beforehand

[n1ght0f-nyx]

It would be sooo cool if you wrote about a sailor making offerings to the sea, and the sea helping him back during a privateer attack. The sea being a sea monster (properly monstrous, properly grotesque) who has been waiting to return the sailors kindness.

(I suggested a privateer attack, not pirates, since I feel like a sea monster would have plenty of reason to hate the empires who poisoned their waters)

Your choice if you make the monster more human-minded and create a monster fuck scenario, or if you wish to keep it platonic and protecting only. Or a secret third option of course.

love this so much. water deity x reader. warnings/tags- god worship, monster fucking

word count- 961 words.

The sea is a cruel thing, or so your shipmates always say. The sea takes more than it gives, steals men from their homes, swallows ships whole. But you have never believed that.

You’ve sailed these waters for years, and you know the sea watches. It listens. And sometimes, in ways small and strange, it answers.

he first time you made an offering to the sea, it was nothing but a simple ritual. A bit of salted bread, a silver trinket, and a whispered prayer cast into the waves. A habit picked up from your grandmother, who swore by the old ways, though no one else on your crew paid the ocean much mind beyond cursing it. But you had seen the way the waters turned calm after a gift, how the storms held their breath when you spoke softly to the waves.

You had no way of knowing he was listening.

He—if such a thing could be called a man—was old. Older than the charts, older than the empires that had carved their borders across the seas. His body was the deep, vast and unknowable, his limbs were long things of shifting shadow and sinew, slick with brine and lined with ridges like the belly of a great fish. When he swam beneath your ship, the waters grew dark, as though the sky itself had plunged into the sea. His eyes were like pits, the color of the abyss, but within them burned something unmistakably alive.

And he had watched you.

Watched you kneel at the ship’s edge, murmuring your prayers, your offerings set adrift on the current. Watched you work, tireless and steady, the only one aboard who did not spit into the sea or demand from it. You were different. You were kind. And in all the years he had endured—watching men slaughter whales, pour filth into his waters, carve their wars into his depths—you were the first to show him reverence without fear.

So when the privateers came, he rose.

The attack came swift and merciless. Your ship, a modest merchant vessel, was never meant to withstand the wrath of empire-sanctioned cutthroats. Cannon fire split the hull, sending shouts and splinters into the air. You fought, though you were no soldier. You were thrown to the deck, the scent of salt and blood thick in your nose, your hands bound as you watched your crewmates slaughtered. The privateers laughed as they kicked you onto your knees. You had nothing left but a prayer.

And this time, the sea answered.

A shadow unfurled beneath the waves, vast and slow, the water itself recoiling. The first to notice it was a privateer standing too close to the edge—he barely had time to scream before something yanked him under. The others turned just in time to see the waves boil over with darkness, tentacles slick with salt and spined like the deep-sea beasts of nightmare, a body rising from the depths, twisting, shifting, too large to be real. A maw opened in the water, lined with jagged, bioluminescent teeth, its throat glowing like the lantern-lit caves beneath the tides.

The sea had come to claim its due.

The privateers fell into chaos, some leaping overboard only to be dragged under, others frozen in terror as the creature moved through them with deliberate, inevitable force. He did not fight like a beast—he fought like a god, ancient and wrathful. A tentacle curled around you, slick but gentle, lifting you from the deck as the ship beneath you was torn apart. He cradled you in the crook of an armored limb, his touch lingering, careful. You did not struggle. You knew, somehow, that you would not be harmed.

And when the wreckage sank, when the last screams faded into the quiet hush of the waves, he finally spoke.

“Mine.”

His voice was the grind of shifting tides, the hum of the current against the hull of a ship, the rasp of sand against stone. You shuddered, not in fear, but in the weight of knowing. You had always known the sea could be cruel. You had not known it could be devoted.

He carried you to a place far beyond the reach of men—a cavern where the walls gleamed with mother-of-pearl, where the tide pooled in bioluminescent blue, where the air was thick with salt and the echoes of something ancient. He placed you upon the smooth, sea-worn rock and did not let go, curling around you like the tide itself.

“You gave to me,” he murmured, voice like the whisper of waves against a forgotten shore. His great, abyssal eyes peered down at you, hunger and adoration twining together. “No man has ever given to me.”

You swallowed hard. Your pulse thundered, but not in terror. The way he looked at you, the way he touched you—it was possessive, but not unkind. It was as if you had called to him all those years, and he had finally come to answer.

“…And now you return the favor,” you said, your voice quiet, testing.

His mouth curled, something like a smile but far too sharp. “Yes.”

You reached out, hesitant, your fingers brushing the slick, scaled ridge of his arm. He trembled beneath you. Something deep in his chest thrummed, like the rolling echo of waves against a cliffside. He leaned in, impossibly vast and terrifyingly gentle.

“Mine,” he rumbled again, but this time, it was a plea.

You could have denied him. You could have fought, could have feared, could have rejected the devotion of something so monstrous, so inhuman. But you had spent your whole life at sea, and you knew better than to deny the tide.

“…Yours,” you whispered.

The cavern filled with the sound of the ocean’s joy.

[emoloveallthetime]

Fish out boy but theres two for each cuz I’m indecisive

(Btw tw for Andys if Big fin (Magnapinna) squid creep you out or if you have a fear of deep water)

Patrick

Dumbo octopus (aka flapjack octopus) and axolotl

Joe

Jellyfish and sea horse

Pete

Sea angel and beta fish

Andy

Sea slugs and Magnapinna squid

(and fun fact: Magnapinna squid are completely harmless to humans and can grow up to 50 feet long!)

Also a visualization of what i was thinking before making this

[ryllen]

i thought / m a n / these girls are quite heartless 🤣 when i accepted the quest at /clearly/ inconvenient time to swim & dive

[respect-the-locals]

🐠 Daily Fish Fact: 🐠

The Ornate Ghost Pipefish, or harlequin ghost pipefish, is a false pipefish. The species' name comes from the Greek paradoxos, referring to this fish's unusual external features. Although relatively common, ornate ghost pipefish are very well-camouflaged and difficult to find. It occurs either as solitary individuals or in pairs, among floating weeds, or crinoids where the feed on mysids and small benthic shrimp.

[rotpretty]

[di-devil]

green fish

[paepaerest]

my mutual wanted me to post this one here :)

[feyspeaker]

Happy Mermay everyone!!! may print for my sticker+print club

[morbid248]

update on the arthur lester account creature. i think this is what insanity feels like

[hallowdarkfrost]

Sapphire tower dragon from my Dracoflora II series, inspired by Puya alpestris! This design is destined to be enamel pin-ified and is currently available for preorder on Kickstarter until October 24th.

My favorite child... this is the only design from the original series of nine dragons I created for this concept that has persisted unchanged over the years because it's just SO baby. Long-held pipe dream for this dragon is to create a lemgthy plushie of it but unfortunately I think it might be too weird for that

[judasisgayriot]

they say the captain goes down with the ship...

[emoloveallthetime]

Boy why you so seal

[bluebugjay]

This is so random but do you think Tragic Mick knew Angie the sea monster back when he was a walrus?

What if they were friendssss