#sea sorcerer

[augustcharm]

Serenna, sea sorcerer!

[phill-art]

My art of a Sea Demon!

I hope to inspire DM's when they are creating their campaigns! I could see this monster giving a DnD group a real challenge!

[horrorslashergirl]

The Mermaid and The Sea Warlock: A Dark Fairytale Romance with Enemies to Lovers

One little mermaid. One BIG sea warlock.

She was the diamond of the ocean, a gem in the sea with a pure heart. Her pink mermaid tail could shine even in the darkest waters and her blonde hair resembled gold. She was precious. The princess of Atlantica.

He was the banished one. A monster of the seven seas with eight vicious tentacles and black sorcery at his disposal. They say there was nothing good about him, only a wicked soul looking to wreck havoc.

She was an angel.

He was a devil.

She was innocent.

He was sinfull.

She was the heroine.

He was the villain... or was he?

When the princess of Atlantica has to marry someone she doesn't love and finds out something horrible about her soon-to-be husband, she knows she has to do something, but none would believe her, so she seeks help into the arms of the most cruel, who offers to help her in exchange of something.

Her innocence.

The little mermaid cannot help but get bewitched by the tentacled man with the body of a God and the voice of a sinner. From a business deal comes scorching pleasure and steamy moments that had her mermaid tail quiver.

This erotic fantasy novella is a stand-alone in the Fairytales from Down Below series. It's not your classic little mermaid tale, for the heroine falls for the villain.

Enemies to Lovers. Passionate Nights. Betrayl. Tentacles.

What could you want more?

[resolart]

witchtober week 2 - sea witch 🌊🐚🌙

[afloofwithmultipleinterests]

A Bob Velseb AU I Made With A Friend!

We Are doing a little mermaid RP with Bob as Ursula! little backstory: Bob used to be a merman prince who fell in love with a human woman. He Found a book, and used black magic to make himself human to be with her... but when he finally found his dark magic solution, it was already too late... She married a human man. Now he's vowed against love entirely. The benevolent force he reckoned with took control of him and unleashed his anger upon atlantis. He hid himself away and did a black magic market of sorts that only the wealthy knew of, granting their wishes at a high price. A common merwoman comes to him years later with a desire much similar to his own before he corrupted into an inky sea sorcerer. This Octopus man is used to rich individuals coming to him for help, not the common folk. Its a classic little mermaid story... but with a little of a twist! he also has a pheonix mark! ... for... no apparent reason :3c

[jakobos]

Sorcerer-King Orgnum

[lyncaa]

Cedlock Week | Day 2: Sea / Boat

I’m a sucker for sailor / mermaid love

Honestly I nearly gave up on this drawing but in the end I’m satisfied with it. I originally planned for what would look like a post credit scene for Baileywhoops since it ended on a boat, but that would’ve worked better for a fic and I was already in art mode sooo. Also totally didn’t give Cedric top surgery with scales for scars whattt who said that

[galedekarios]

larian truly revealing bit by bit how they actively chose to make their game worse

[rawliverandgoronspice]

Gantober #4 - Seafoam

(Wind Waker, Ganondorf & Beedle, non-graphic violence)

Tearing himself off a broken seal, Ganondorf discovers his homeland disfigured by an endless sea —and a stranger calling it home willing to help.

(Full disclosure: I'm flying off the seat of me poorly remembering my decade-old Wind Waker walkthrough and details gleaned back on vague research I did over a year ago, so I do apologize for any dubiously canon choices made here)

---

Ganondorf had waged wars larger than the sky. He had crushed skulls under his boot as an afterthought. He had basked in roaring infernos, found comfort in the musk of old blood. Even his own torment, either while sealed beyond reality or when his body had twisted to unnatural shapes from his restless abuse of Power, he had grown to rely upon as something expected —and therefore, under his control.

But there he stood, stranded on a mere constellation of sand in the middle of the night, staring on and on at the black sea surrounding him from all sides.

And nothing seemed to stomp his rising horror.

Salt. He didn’t mind salt, usually. Here, it was dizzying. A wound in the earth. A wound where Hyrule —his Hyrule— used to be. Water had swallowed all of it. In the darkest depths of the sea, there lied his castle, his hard-earned victories, the villages he sacked and those erected in their place by the monsters serving him. He may have broken the seal forced upon him, but his entire life slumbered down the abyss. For how long did he drift, outside of time and space? There was nothing left but salt. Angry froth surrounding him from all sides. The Goddesses did not care for what they once called holy. What was there even to yearn for anymore, beyond wreckage and mud?

The infernos had all drowned. Even he was now drenched and cold; his ageless bones incapable of resisting neither the waves or the rain.

He did not notice the boat that beached nearby until it was too late, and it took its sailor two attempts to finally catch his attention.

“All good sir?”

Ganondorf tore his eyes from the shore. The man who screamed at him from the deck was a stickbug of a hylian, with a horrendous bowl cut and a drooping pink nose. His sunkissed, freckled skin shivered under the tremors of a coming storm, but still: he smiled, with concern. “Not to assume nothin’, but it’s a sad old place to be shipwrecked if you ask me!”

Hands on hips, face open, eager to help. Obviously clueless as to who he was.

Nobody had stared at Ganondorf that way in hundreds of years.

He considered killing the straggler and taking his embarkation for himself. Faster, easier. But of all the many skills the gerudo king had perfected during his unnaturally long life, sailing had never even crossed his mind as something worth his attention. And the thought of trying to keep this poorly wielded rotting wood afloat in a storm, hands coarse with ropes he couldn’t make sense of above miles upon miles of this terrible salt water that wanted him back in the dark... A sharp pang of hatred seared down his throat. The Goddesses must be finding his predicament oh so hilarious.

The stranger, named Beedle, made what room he could for him on his bark; but said bark was tiny, and Ganondorf could only fit against the wall of the inner cabin, stuck between crates of food and heaps of arrows. A ceiling lamp swung above his head followed by a swarm of eager moths, threatening to set his forehead on fire. The hylian’s sunny disposition dimmed somewhat after Ganondorf’s pointed silence and lack of outward thanks for all this effort, but he still refused to let it die entirely and carried the conversation for them both.

“Hoping my humble abode can be a welcome shelter for the time being, my good sir.” Good sir. Ganondorf bit his tongue not to emote. “Please don’t be shy around my wares as well! If something catches your eye, I’m sure we can agree to somethin’ or another!” The hylian’s eye nicked at his jewelry, barely attempting to be subtle. “It’s rare to see folks as fancy as you in these parts. It’s the pirates, you see. I suppose it’s them who gave you trouble?”

Ganondorf evaded the too-intense gaze of the merchant. Of course, in this sparse flooded world, information would be as precious as rupees. He elected to be as greedy as he could in this particular department.

“I simply… got lost,” he muttered.

His voice was rough, ancient, looming. He didn’t sound like the way he remembered. The small hylian tensed and nodded, with a frown deep enough to suggest he was growing less worried about his guest and more about himself. Thunder crashed outside. A large wave rolled under the planks at their feet; the boat croaked, almost organically. Ganondorf shivered.

“Welp. Happens to the best of us I guess!” The owner scratched his bare stomach, his best efforts at joy dipping into nervousness. “Where are you going then? I can drop you off to any place that’s on my usual route!”

Ganondorf clenched his jaw. He had no good answer to this question. He didn’t know anything about this strange new world. Didn’t recognize anything. Where were they, right now? Above which landmark he could still perfectly recall in his mind, lively and luscious, sprawling under the indulgent sun of Hyrule?

“I… I don’t…”

He caught himself, this disgusting vulnerability in that shredded voice, before it could spill out fully. Anger smothered him instead; then something more painful, akin to the jagged cuts of weapons somehow lodged even deeper than flesh. He thought of gutting the pleasant man, right here and now. Take him apart limb from limb among all these goods and produce Ganondorf had never seen before. But the storm raged outside —and to be stuck there, in this claustrophobic cabin, waiting to be toppled over and drowned once again…

“Y-You know what?” Beedle proposed, hands joined, helpful in a way that neared pity. “I can take you to Windfall Island! It’s the biggest port around, and I’m sure you’ll find someone there who can help you out. You seem a little…” He swallowed. “A little... out of it, sir.”

His skin crawled. That idiot would strand him on an island full of hylians, chipper and knowledgeable and unbearably alive.

“No,” Ganondorf grunted. “Take me… Take me somewhere quiet, and near. Someplace with solid land.”

The hylian cocked his head.

“I’m not quite sure about that plan, sir. There’s a Fortress close-by, sir, I’m sure you’ve heard of it. The waters are full of pirates. It’s not safe here! They’d capture you in a heartbeat, and oh!” The poor little man deflated, rubbing his bare arms, as if to ward off his own imagination. “They’d have ways to make you spill where the rest of your fancy gold is hidden, sir!”

Ganondorf couldn’t help his snickering. His right hand burned quietly under the full length of his sleeves. “A fortress, you say?”

“Horrible place! Dreadful place! They’ve stolen from me before, the vultures!”

“Take me there.”

Beedle’s eyes and mouth drew the shape of three perfect circles.

“Sir!” He squealed, red with offense. “No amount of rupee in the world could convince me to go there! I’ll never risk my wares, my very life…”

“Where I come from, merchants know to take risks when it matters,” Ganondorf said. And that much was true. Gerudo merchants had saved his kingdom countless times over before he was old enough to wield a sword himself. Not all of them returned home alive.

“And why on earth would it matter to me?!” Beedle crossed his arms, outraged. “They’ll shot my poor boat on sight! So whatever you could offer me in exchange…”

“You’re assuming I will let you refuse.”

Silence, if not for the roar of the sea.

The hylian’s eyes were large and misty, his knees threatening to give. “Sir…” He wailed, crumbling on himself, even tinier than before. “I rescued you.”

“And I am not ungrateful,” Ganondorf smiled. “Yet.”

¤

The merchant sniffled and muttered under his breath the entire way, but it didn’t take much more than a few hours for Ganondorf to see the silhouette of a large structure overtaking the stormy horizon. Beedle tried not to cry as he slalomed through the coves and razor-sharp stones, knowing himself watched, both by his guest and the pirates outside surely well aware of their presence. Ganondorf considered telling him they would be safe from cannon fire no matter what, but decided to keep his magical prowess undisclosed for as long as he could. He simply didn’t know enough about the rules of this new world to fashion a reputation for himself yet. Dreadful outcasts with a penchant for knives and thievery, however? A consequence-less trying ground.

An anchor, in so many ways.

They weren’t prevented from boarding the pier, but were awaited right outside. The vicious wind swashed buckets of sea water over a collection of armed silhouettes, staring at the humble bark with open distrust and slight bafflement. Ganondorf eyed over each of them. About twenty, that he could see. All of them with pointy ears, safe for the two gorons in the back. Brown hair, blonde hair, white hair.

All of them men.

Ganondorf refused to give room to the childish hope within withering into something cold and empty, and advanced towards the line. Beedle made a whimpering sound behind him.

“That’s close enough I’d say.”

A man cut through the pirates and stepped forth. The bulky kind, bald-headed and scarred, with one golden tooth sharpened far past what most would think reasonable. He towered over his crew, but barely reached Ganondorf’s shoulder. He nodded towards the cowering merchant behind his back.

“Must have given that lad his weight in rupees to convince him to sail here. We have history, don’t we Beedle?”

The crew laughed, and the poor hylian was but half a breath from sobbing openly.

“I hear you’re the terror of the sea,” Ganondorf noted.

The man puffed his chest. “Aye we are. So what made you think it was a good idea to come check for yourself? Want to donate to the cause?” Every pirate openly eyed at the large jewels adorning his fine robes. Gerudo craftsmanship had always stirred outsiders’ imagination, even back when cultural context hadn’t been completely lost to the waves.

Ganondorf crossed his arms. “I suppose it depends on the cause.”

The pirate chief laughed, a bit too loud to be believable as effortless contempt. His stance was ever-slightly defensive. Ganondorf was being seized up, and correctly identified as a threat.

“Our cause?! Get richer than the lost kingdom through other people’s honest work! I didn’t think it would need clarification!” Another step closer, one that felt like bravado. The man held up an open palm that missed half a finger. “So how are you willing to contribute?”

Ganondorf didn’t bother moving. He stared deep into the washed-out green eyes of the pathetically wet hylian in front of him. Small threats. Threats of no ambition. This was all the Goddesses could handle, and not a single thing worse: mediocre hylians, content with their lackluster lot, fearlessly cruel in the pettiest of ways.

He shook his head, giving the surroundings a good look instead of paying the captain undeserved attention. Crows cackled above their head, and bigger birds seems to nest in the cliffs. Hard to navigate, tall and angry, strong against the storm, unpleasant to be around.

Suitable.

“I quite enjoy this island,” Ganondorf declared at last. “As for you, terror of the sea… You can all stay here and serve my cause, or you can take your leave right away.”

Some man in the back thought it was a joke and laughed; but the humor died down soon enough. Exclamations bubbled through the assembled crew like a fit of bad coughs, growing in intensity. Beedle hid his face in his hands, terrified, and muttered a prayer.

“What did you say?!” The captain belched out. “Are you out of your mind—who the hell do you think you are?!”

A younger version of himself would have used the opportunity to brag, just to feel the kick of his own resolve; a promise muttered back to himself. But Ganondorf was far past reassurance now.

“Or you can all watch each other die if you prefer,” Ganondorf added, with the familiar coldness that preceded his worst slaughters.

That was too much for the poor merchant. Abandoning all reason, the little hylian skedaddled back to his boat with a high pitch sound of distress. Smart move. The pirates were all focused on the actual danger, and Ganondorf would have disliked letting a survivor bear witness to the worst of what he could do. Now was not the time. And, after all, he had no reason to be ungrateful and needlessly destructive. Not everything had to end up in blood, he supposed. Violence was a lesson he’d have to unlearn soon if we was to re-adapt to this new, brutal reality.

But as of now…

“We’ll knock some sense back into you, old man!” the man spat out—old man? Ganondorf wasn’t sure he appreciated being perceived as frail and weary; those feelings were supposed to be private. But the captain didn’t seem to realize his overstep and unsheathed a crude saber to his face. “Everyone with me!”

They all attacked at once, swords drawn and eager.

Ganondorf grinned. Twin blades slotted into his waiting hands.

That simple joy, of all joys dead and gone, the Goddesses had yet to take from him.

¤

The slaughter was over before it started. The pirates were even worse off than he feared. None of them would have survived the wars he had waged centuries prior. In this barren world of salt and greedy water, plunderers were weak and arrogant, and lonely travelers trusted so easily. The deluge didn’t even select the worthiest to carry on this accursed future.

Leaning from the highest balcony he could find, Ganondorf stared at a much quieter sea. Dawn brushed over the crests of wave in pinks and golds and green. Seagulls, crows and even angrier birds screamed their delight in the fierce offshore wind. Far in the distance, he could distinguish the shape of Beedle’s bark, fast escaping the trail of blood left behind. Ganondorf was taken by a vague need to acknowledge what this man had done for him, this thankless mercy drenched in unfair retribution. Do something just, perhaps. Sort the stolen goods and restore what once belonged to him. Make his effort worth something... but already, so soon, the little dot tipped over the foam and disappeared from view entirely.

The waves covered its tracks, and Ganondorf was alone.

He closed his eyes, allowing the sun to trick him into unguarded longing. But that couldn’t last. He couldn’t afford rest. He couldn’t afford peace. This was how the Goddesses had lured everyone else into accepting this; the smallness of letting oneself drift; an existence happily unmoored. That wasteland. That living wound they all called home.

Ganondorf turned away from the horizon, the sun, the wind, runaway boats with small cargo and far greater fears. The Triforce of Power scorched his blood-splattered hand. Ganondorf focused on the pain until it devoured everything else; and then, only then, could he start to think with regained dignity about the arduous path to triumph.

[maryhale1]

Banishing spell

Time for a little spell at the first of the month ☝🏻

And don’t forget to do your abundance ritual ♥️

[mfreelovely]

I love her so much 🥹💖

Seraphina in the sea space garden of the kindori

[chaaistheanswer]

Commissioned work of a DND PC for Heidi which took me 15 hrs!

If you're interested, please click this link of my commission website for more info!

[theanoninyourinbox]

Idea from an Icyswipe AU divergence I alluded to before. Ravenpaw, Fireheart, & Princess as SpottedScourge kits!

I had just finished this and remembered you had designs for your AU lol, enjoy anyway

And one midlife crisis middle aged mom, partying with tritons at the bottom of the sea

[worldsokayestmagicalgirl]

It’s wild thinking about how we’ve been playing this campaign for over 3 years but this is the first time we’re cosplaying our characters. But honestly I can’t express how happy getting to be Amoré for a night made me.

And we may not have had Diana this time but we did find Ziteng!

[sweetmariihs2]

Sofia The First confession:

Last time I went to the beach and watched The Floating Palace when traveling by car. Just like Sofia The First reminds me of my childhood and Disney nostalgia, The Floating Palace reminds me of me playing mermaid on the beach or in the pool, everything was so simple and the script for my games was always similar to the plot of TFP, I focused mainly on me and the friends I made at the beach and at the pool, but never the villain, so it makes sense that the merch around TFP would be about Sofia, Oona and playing mermaids. You know, the travel episode, except that it's a "the little mermaid under the sea" vibes

I remember the world being a lot more creative when I was younger. Going to the beach reminds me of pink swimsuits, sand castles, pool floats, collecting shells, going to town at night afterwards to eat something, and of course, playing mermaid. And I think that The Floating Palace really captures this feeling, mostly because I watched it as a child and it has that 2010s feeling.

That's the end of the first confession, now it's the second one:

When I went to the beach in Bahia (Brazil) some years ago (as I do since I was a little girl,) I was discovering Ashnikko's songs, and before that travel she just released the "Deal With It" music video, and the song was SO GOOD that I couldn't stop listening to it, to go to Bahia my family travels by car, so at every trip I put on my headphones and listen to music, and this song was replayed so many times.

This year, I went to the same place in Bahia and I decided to watch The Floating Palace again simply because I wanted to do something while traveling besides listening to music and this episode was one that I didn't watched as much as the others, so I thought "why not?". Because I was at the beach and this episode gave me that nostalgia I described to you, that's how I was feeling when traveling. *a little traumatizing part* BUT because we were going to the same place that song "Deal With It" just popped into my head and as an hyperfocused person that I am it didn't took me long to think "haha sea monster cedric + sea monster ashnikko + beach, haha so funny"

But if you think it can't get worse... it can. In the MV Ashnikko turns into a sea monster who's trying to sink a ship, but since her style is a little eccentric she wore a sexy sea monster costume. A little traumatizing even, if I may say. And now everytime I listen to that song I remember the sexy sea monster Ashnikko and sea monster Cedric and I just can't keep myself from having the ick

Everytime I see sea monster Cedric I remember sexy sea monster Ashnikko and that mf song

HER COSTUME IT'S SO TRAUMATIZING TO ME, AND I HATE THAT IT REMINDS ME OF CEDRIC GRRRGRGRTRRR IT'S SO COOL BUT I CAN'T RELATE THESE TWO THINGS TOGETHER IT SIMPLY DOESN'T WORK

IT'S DISTURBING HELP

[that110alto]

My 2nd dnd character, a plasmoid lunar sorcerer named It (it/its).

Very creature! I am very excited to play it in an upcoming spelljammer campaign with friends.

It's backstory below the cut.

The idea is that "It" comes from a clan of plasmoids that are all asexually reproduced clones. All of them are practically identical and all of them are wholesomely dumb. They don't really speak an intelligble language, rather making strange noises to each other. They all are the same; silly, goofy, and always getting into mischief. They, to some degree, no one knows exactly why - worship the giant, astral moon jellyfish that pass by in a universe-wide migration once in a millenia. These giant omnipotent moon jellyfish are like gods to the creatures, and during the most recent migration, this particular one, excited, climbed to inch itself a little closer to the moon jellyfish - no one has ever dared to get close out of respect and fear of the jellies! As it climbed, others began to noticr and become fearful. Shortly, all of those who had taken notice were babbling in a wave of commotion as they looked on. The creatures were even more shocked when the lone climber, once upon the highest rock, seemed to *mock* the gods by morphing a moon jellyfish onto its head whilst giggling. How dare it morph into the likeness of a god! The rest of it's clan shook in horror and dismay as one of the jellies took notice, waiting for their god to strike down their lives with the force of the universe in wrathful destruction.

Curious, the giant moon jellyfish leaned in close to observe the giggling creature. The jelly gently and wordlessly brought its tentacle to the creature's forehead, and with the sting, it saw a million universes in its eyes, stars, galaxies, planets, worlds, and moons. With this touch, it had been blessed with the magic of the moons granted by the moon jellyfish.

Afterward, It was percieved as blessed by it's clanmates - touched by a god that had been feared, loved, and respected for time immemorial. The individual was exactly the same - in every single way, to every other single clone. But it, for some reason, had been chosen. (It is unknown why).

Its connection with the moon jellyfish allows it to receive visions of danger - its duty is to protect those around it, those it calls friends. It's friends, who lack any idea what kind of creature it is, call their silly little ooze bunny "It". It is adored, but lack of a shared language cause it's warnings of prophecies to never be understood.