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samkkshopping · 7 months ago

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Draped in Legacy: Unveiling the Timeless Paithani Saree at Samyakk

Introduction:

A Legacy of Exquisite Craftsmanship

The Paithani saree, a symbol of Maharashtrian tradition, exudes timeless elegance. Handwoven with meticulous care, these luxurious silk sarees are favored by brides for their intricate designs and rich cultural significance. Whether it’s the soft silk allure of Yeola Paithani or the elaborate motifs of designer variations, each piece reflects the heritage of Marathi weddings.

From online selections to traditional markets, Paithani sarees offer a plethora of options. With their meenakari embellishments and bold borders, they add a touch of grandeur to any bridal ensemble. Whether it’s a vibrant Paithani with intricate butta patterns or a plain silk saree, the Paithani remains a cherished choice for brides seeking to embrace tradition with sophistication.

A Symphony of Colors and Designs

Paithani saree designs are renowned for their captivating designs and dazzling colors. Geometric patterns, like stripes and checks, form the foundation for more elaborate motifs. Delicate floral designs, inspired by nature’s bounty, bloom across the silk canvas. Additionally, mythological creatures like peacocks and elephants are frequently depicted, adding a touch of symbolism and cultural significance.

The color palette of a Paithani saree is a symphony in itself. Natural dyes create a vibrancy that synthetic colors simply cannot match. Deep, rich reds symbolize prosperity and auspiciousness, while luminous greens represent new beginnings and growth. Purples exude royalty, while gold and silver threads add a touch of grandeur. The specific color combinations often hold cultural significance, with some sarees reflecting the colors of a particular region or festival.

A Symbol of Luxury and Cultural Pride

Paithani sarees transcend mere aesthetics. They are symbols of luxury and elegance, often adorning women on special occasions like weddings, festivals, and religious ceremonies. Traditional Marathi Wedding Paithani Sarees for brides are particularly exquisite, often featuring elaborate zari work and rich jewel tones. These sarees are not just an outfit; they are a family heirloom passed down through generations, carrying stories and memories within their folds.

Owning a Paithani saree is a way to connect with the rich tradition and artistry of Maharashtra. The handloom Maharashtrian Paithani Sarees are not mass-produced; each piece is a unique work of art, reflecting the skill and dedication of the artisans who create them. Yeola Paithani sarees, for example, come from the town of Yeola in Maharashtra, renowned for its concentration of skilled Paithankar families. Owning a Yeola Paithani saree is a way to support these artisans and ensure the continuation of this precious weaving tradition.

A Timeless Addition to Every Woman’s Wardrobe

There are countless reasons why a Paithani saree is a valuable addition to any woman’s wardrobe:

Timeless Elegance: Paithani sarees are classics that never go out of style. Their versatility allows them to be worn for a variety of occasions, from formal gatherings to festive celebrations. A plain Paithani saree with a simple border can be dressed up with elegant jewelry for a formal event, while a saree with a more elaborate design can be the perfect statement piece for a festive occasion.

Investment Piece: Handwoven with high-quality materials, Paithani sarees are valuable investments. With proper care, they can last for generations, becoming cherished heirlooms. As the art of Paithani weaving becomes increasingly rare, the value of these sarees is likely to appreciate over time.

Cultural Connection: Owning a Paithani saree is a way to connect with the rich tradition and artistry of Maharashtra. It’s a tangible piece of cultural heritage that allows you to celebrate the beauty and craftsmanship of this region.

Versatility and Style: Paithani sarees can be styled in countless ways, allowing you to express your unique personality. You can pair them with traditional gold jewelry for a classic look or add a modern twist with statement earrings and a sleek clutch. Designer Yeola Paithani Online sarees often incorporate contemporary design elements, making them perfect for the fashion-forward woman.

Confidence and Beauty: The exquisite craftsmanship and rich drape of a Paithani saree are sure to make any woman feel confident and radiant. The luxurious feel of the silk and the intricate designs will turn heads wherever you go.

Beyond the Basics: Exploring Different Paithani Sarees

The world of Paithani sarees is vast and offers a variety of options to suit different tastes and budgets. Here’s a deeper dive into some specific types of Paithani sarees:

Bridal Paithani Saree: These Marathi Brides Paithani sarees are the epitome of grandeur, often crafted from the finest pure silk and featuring elaborate zari work in intricate patterns. Popular motifs include paisleys, peacocks (considered auspicious symbols), and lotus flowers. Rich jewel tones like red, green, and purple are traditional choices, but modern brides may opt for softer hues like pink or beige. Traditional Marathi Wedding Paithani Sarees with intricate Meenakari work (enamel embellishments) add a touch of regal elegance.

Soft Silk Paithani Saree: Made with a lighter weight silk, these sarees are perfect for warmer climates or for those who prefer a more delicate drape. They are ideal for formal occasions or festive celebrations and come in a variety of colors and designs. Soft Silk Paithani Sarees are also a popular choice for bridesmaids or guests at a wedding.

Yeola Paithani Sarees: As mentioned earlier, these sarees hail from the town of Yeola in Maharashtra, known for its skilled Paithankar families who have honed the art of Paithani weaving for generations. Yeola Paithani Sarees are known for their use of high-quality silk and their meticulous craftsmanship. Buy Yeola Paithani Silk Sarees Online from reputable vendors to ensure authenticity.

Designer Yeola Paithani Online: The world of fashion is embracing the timeless beauty of the Paithani saree. Designer Yeola Paithani Online retailers are incorporating contemporary design elements while staying true to the traditional weaving techniques. These sarees may feature modern color palettes, geometric patterns with a twist, or even a fusion of motifs.

A Guide to Buying Paithani Sarees

The allure of a Paithani saree is undeniable, but with so many options available, navigating the buying process can be overwhelming. Here are some key points to consider:

Budget: Paithani sarees range in price depending on the quality of the silk, the intricacy of the design, the size of the saree, and the reputation of the weaver. Expect to pay anywhere from ₹5,000 to ₹1 lakh or more.

Authenticity: When buying a Paithani saree, ensure it’s authentic. Look for reputable sellers, ideally those authorized by the government or weaving cooperatives. Authentic Paithani sarees will often have a certification or KumKum mark that verifies their origin.

Where to Buy: You can find Paithani sarees in Maharashtra from authorized dealers specializing in traditional textiles. Alternatively, several Paithani saree online retailers offer a wide selection. Be cautious when buying online and ensure the seller has a good return policy and guarantees the saree’s authenticity.

Caring for Your Paithani Saree

Paithani sarees are delicate and require proper care to maintain their beauty for generations. Here are some essential tips:

Dry Clean Only: Avoid washing your Paithani saree at home. Take it to a reputable dry cleaner who specializes in handling delicate fabrics.

Storage: Store your Paithani saree in a cool, dry place away from direct sunlight. Wrap it in a soft muslin cloth to prevent creases and snags.

Avoid Harsh Chemicals: Keep your Paithani saree away from perfumes, deodorants, and other harsh chemicals that can damage the fabric or fade the colors.

A Treasure Beyond Adornment

Owning a Paithani saree is more than just adding a beautiful garment to your wardrobe. It’s a way to connect with a rich cultural heritage and support the skilled artisans who keep this tradition alive. Whether you choose a pure silk Pochampally saree (a geographically distinct cousin of the Paithani) or a Paithani Silk Saree with Meenakari Motifs, each saree tells a story and embodies the artistic legacy of Maharashtra. So, the next time you seek a piece that speaks of timeless elegance, cultural pride, and exquisite craftsmanship, consider the enchanting Paithani saree. It might just become your most treasured possession.

People Also Ask:

1. How much does a Paithani saree cost?

Answer: The price of a Paithani saree can vary depending on several factors, including:

Quality of the silk: Pure mulberry silk is the most expensive material used, while artificial silks will be cheaper.

Intricacy of the design: Simpler designs with less zari work will cost less than sarees with elaborate motifs and heavy embellishments.

Size of the saree: Larger sarees require more material and will naturally be more expensive.

Reputation of the weaver: Sarees from well-known Paithankar families may command a higher price due to their heritage and craftsmanship.

Generally, you can expect to pay anywhere from ₹5,000 to ₹1 lakh or more for a Paithani saree.

2. Where can I buy a Paithani saree?

Answer: You have two main options for purchasing a Paithani saree:

Authorized dealers in Maharashtra, India: This is the best way to ensure you are buying an authentic Paithani saree. Look for shops with a good reputation and that specialize in traditional textiles. You can also explore renowned establishments like Samyakk Clothing, known for their curated selection of authentic Paithani sarees.

Online retailers:Several reputable online retailers, including Samyakk Clothing, sell Paithani sarees. Be cautious when buying online and ensure the seller has a good return policy and guarantees the authenticity of the saree. Look for certifications or affiliations with organizations that promote genuine handloom products.

3. How do I care for a Paithani saree?

Answer: Paithani sarees are delicate and require proper care to maintain their beauty and longevity:

Dry clean only: Avoid washing your Paithani saree at home. Take it to a reputable dry cleaner who specializes in handling delicate fabrics.

Store properly: When not in use, store your Paithani saree in a cool, dry place away from direct sunlight. Wrap it in a soft muslin cloth to prevent creases and snags.

Avoid harsh chemicals: Keep your Paithani saree away from perfumes, deodorants, and other harsh chemicals that can damage the fabric or fade the colors.

4. Can I wear a Paithani saree if I am not Marathi?

Answer: Absolutely! Paithani sarees are beautiful pieces of art and cultural heritage that can be appreciated by anyone. They are not restricted to any particular culture or ethnicity.

5. Are Paithani sarees only for special occasions?

Answer: While Paithani sarees are often worn for special occasions like weddings and festivals, they can also be worn for more casual outings. The versatility of the saree allows you to dress it up or down depending on the occasion. A plain Paithani saree with a simple border can be a lovely choice for a lunch date or a puja ceremony.

6. What are some other saree options to consider besides Paithani?

Answer: If you love the luxurious feel of silk but are looking for a different style, here are some options:

Kanjivaram saree: Another exquisite silk saree from South India, known for its rich colors and temple motifs.

Pochampally saree: A geographically distinct cousin of the Paithani saree, known for its geometrical patterns and ikat weaving technique.

Bandhani saree: A vibrant silk saree from Gujarat, known for its intricate tie-and-dye patterns.

Conclusion

In conclusion, the Paithani saree epitomizes the essence of Maharashtrian tradition and culture. Whether it’s a traditional Paithani saree handwoven with intricate details or a luxurious Paithani silk saree for a bridal ensemble, each piece tells a unique story of craftsmanship and heritage. From soft silk Paithani sarees to handloom Maharashtrian Paithani sarees, the variety is vast, catering to every preference. Whether you’re a Marathi bride seeking a Traditional Marathi Wedding Paithani Saree or looking for Yeola Paithani Sarees for Wedding, the options are endless. Explore our collection of luxury Paithani sarees and discover the elegance of Authentic Paithani saree designs, each intricately crafted with Meenakari motifs or Butta patterns. With options to buy Paithani sarees online, your journey to owning a piece of Paithani saree heritage begins here.

Discover Your Perfect Saree & Drape Like a Pro with Samyakk!

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lindsaytimberlake · 8 years ago

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Fashion model Lindsay Timberlake wearing vintage silk pajamas for Black Shag Vintage - Nashville, Tennessee (2017)

PHOTO: Tommy Daley (blackshagvintage.com)

#vintage fashion #vintage #70s fashion #silk blouse #silk #blue #royal blue #bob hairstyle #short hair #brown hair #super model #top model #modeling #fashion #Nashville #tall women #fashion shoot

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p0orbaby · 2 months ago

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Born to Love You Back

summary: a very important question is on the horizon

warnings: none

a/n: some rich!reader for you all

word count: 1.7k

The jeweller’s salon is tucked into a narrow street in the 1st arrondissement, down a street so narrow you almost missed it, the kind of place that doesn’t need signage because everyone who matters already knows where it is. The building itself is unassuming but pristine, a five-storey townhouse with cream-coloured stone, wrought-iron balconies, a double door painted a deep charcoal with brass fixtures that gleam in the waning afternoon sun. Outside, a delivery van idles, spilling faint notes of Edith Piaf from its radio as a man unloads crates of flowers: cyclamen, lilies, eucalyptus branches arranged in bursts of green and white. They’ll likely find their way to the salon’s interior within the hour, arranged with almost mathematical precision to evoke a studied nonchalance.

Inside, it’s quiet—museum-like but less sterile, hushed but alive. There’s a balance between the soft hum of conversation from another room and the faint, barely perceptible scent of lilies and leather. The floors are a herringbone parquet, polished to an impossible sheen, and the walls are panelled in dove grey. Everything about the space is designed to whisper money. Even the receptionist, stationed behind a desk lacquered to such a high gloss that it might double as a mirror. She’s mid-twenties, probably just out of university—Sciences Po, perhaps, or one of the Grandes Écoles—wearing a black crepe shift dress that hits just above the knee. Chanel, you’d bet, though it’s hard to tell from here. Her hair is sleek and straight, parted sharply in the middle, her nails painted in Rouge Noir, a colour so iconic it’s practically shorthand for Parisian sophistication. She greets you in French first, then switches to English the moment she hears your accent, though her tone remains precisely the same—warm but not too warm, deferential but not subservient.

Aurélie is waiting for you on the stairs. She’s maybe late thirties, tall, with that certain froideur that women in her line of work cultivate like a second skin. Her blazer is Saint Laurent—black, sharply tailored, peak lapels—and her silk blouse is an ivory so fine it catches the light in a way cotton never could. Her trousers skim the tops of her Louboutin heels—black patent leather, red soles so subtle they barely register. Her jewellery is minimal but deliberate: a single strand of Mikimoto pearls, their lustre so perfect they almost look artificial, and a pair of matching studs. She smiles when she greets you, her lips painted a nude so neutral it could have come from any number of Tom Ford palettes, but you’d guess Casablanca.

“This way, please,” she says, gesturing towards the stairs with a hand that’s manicured in a soft ballet pink, not a chip in sight. You follow her up, noting the faint scent of her perfume—Chanel No. 19, not a popular choice but a discerning one, with its crisp notes of galbanum and iris that feel both professional and unapologetically feminine.

On the landing, there’s a painting—a still life, maybe Cézanne, maybe a very good imitation. You don’t stop to look, but it catches your eye enough to linger in your mind as Aurélie opens a door to the second-floor where Its quieter, darker. The walls are a deep navy—Farrow & Ball, maybe Hague Blue—and the rug beneath the central display case is thick enough to swallow the sound of your footsteps. The case itself is glass-topped and backlit, the kind of lighting that renders diamonds almost supernatural in their brilliance. The rings are arranged by cut and carat, each one nestled in its own velvet slot, the symmetry of the display both calming and slightly overwhelming.

Aurélie steps aside, giving you space but remaining close enough to anticipate your needs. She stands with her hands loosely clasped in front of her, her posture immaculate.

“Take your time,” she says, standing back with the same attentive grace she’s shown since you arrived.

You nod, your gaze already falling to the rings. You’ve thought about this for weeks, maybe months, but standing here, it feels more real, the weight of the decision settling in your chest. Not because you’re uncertain—you’re not—but because this is a moment you’ll remember, whether you want to or not.

The first ring is a cushion-cut diamond, two carats, set in a band of pave diamonds. Platinum, naturally. The proportions are flawless, the craftsmanship impeccable, but as you turn it in the light, you know immediately it’s wrong. Too ornate. Too eager. Alexia would hate it. You imagine her wearing it for a moment, and the thought feels so ridiculous you almost laugh. She doesn’t like excess, at least not in the obvious sense. Her taste is clean, modern, unfussy.

The second ring is pear-shaped, slightly smaller, but with a brilliance that draws your eye. The stone feels alive under the light, its facets catching every subtle movement of your hand. For a moment, you hesitate, thinking about how it would look on her hand, but then you remember something she said once, flipping through a magazine in bed: “Pear cuts are too delicate. They look like they’re trying too hard.”

You sigh, not quite aloud, but enough for Aurélie to notice. She steps closer, just enough to offer a quiet suggestion. “Does she have a preference?” she asks, her tone light, neutral. “For the setting, or the cut?”

“She likes things simple,” you say, the words coming out more clipped than you mean them to. It’s not her fault, this unease you feel. “Classic, but not boring”

Aurélie nods, her expression unchanged, and steps back again. You wonder if she can sense the weight of what you’re doing—if she’s seen enough of this to know the signs. The third ring catches your eye before you reach for it. A round brilliant diamond, 1.8 carats, set in a plain platinum band. No pave, no halo, no embellishments. It’s striking in its simplicity, the kind of ring that doesn’t need to assert itself because it knows what it is. You pick it up, holding it to the light, and as you turn it, something settles in you. This is the one. You don’t need to overthink it.

Aurélie smiles faintly, as though she already knew. “Shall I prepare it for you?” she asks.

You nod, handing it back, and she takes it with both hands, disappearing into a back room.

While she’s gone, you pull out your phone. You shouldn’t call her—she’s probably still at training, her mind on drills and tactics—but you do it anyway. She answers on the third ring, her voice steady but soft, with that familiar cadence you’ve missed more than you’d care to admit.

“Hey,” she says, her voice clear, grounded, with just the faintest lilt of distraction. In the background, there’s a low murmur of voices, the familiar thud of a ball meeting turf, maybe a coach shouting something that’s swallowed up by the wind. You imagine the sun slicing through the Catalan sky, the kind of relentless brightness that makes the whole city shimmer.

“Hey,” you reply, smoothing nonexistent creases from your blazer out of habit, though no one is watching. Your reflection in the polished glass of the display case looks composed, disinterested, but the sound of her voice pulls something taut inside you. “How’s training?”

“Same as always,” she says, and there’s a pause—just long enough for you to hear her exhale softly, almost imperceptibly. You know she’s stepped aside, moved to some quieter corner of the training complex where no one will overhear. She’s careful like that, never careless, always aware of her surroundings.

“Still exhausting?” you ask, and she laughs under her breath—a low, warm sound that lingers longer than it should.

“Mhm,” she hums, the sound of it makes you smile despite yourself. “But it’s a good kind of exhausting. You know how it is”

“Not sure I do,” you tease, leaning against the edge of the display case, its surface cool against your hand. “I can’t say I’ve run laps around a pitch lately. Unless you count running several businesses as exercise”

“Of course,” she says, dry but affectionate, “such an athlete. Truly inspiring”

The corner of your mouth twitches upward. “I aim to impress”

There’s a faint rustle of movement on her end—maybe she’s leaning against a wall, maybe adjusting the strap of her training bib. You picture her in that effortless way she carries herself: shorts sitting just right, socks perfectly rolled down, hair tied back in that half-loose, half-styled way that only someone like her can pull off.

“Where are you?” she asks, not because she doesn’t know, but because it’s the kind of question you ask when you want the conversation to last a little longer.

“Near Rue de la Paix,” you say, keeping it vague. “Finishing up a meeting”

“You’re always finishing up a meeting,” she says, and there’s a lightness to her tone, but it doesn’t quite hide the subtext.

“You’re always training,” you counter, matching her tone, and you hear her chuckle, soft but genuine.

“Buen punto”

There’s a brief pause. In the background, someone calls her name, a voice you don’t recognise, and she responds with a quick, sharp “Un momento.” The way she switches languages so fluidly—it’s seamless—and yet it reminds you, in a small but certain way, that her world is different from yours. Barcelona, with its golden afternoons and relentless sun, its terracotta rooftops and restless streets, feels a thousand miles away from the polished stillness of this Parisian jewellers.

“You should,” you encouraged knowing full well she’ll make no move to end the call herself.

“I’ll see you tonight?” she asks, and it’s a question, but not really.

“Of course,” you say, without hesitation this time.

There’s another silence after that, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s the kind of silence you could live in, one where nothing needs to be said because the words are already understood. Finally, she says, ��Te quiero,” and you hear the faint click as she ends the call.

Aurélie returns with the ring, now nestled in a velvet box so pristine it looks almost untouched by human hands. You slip it into your pocket, the weight of it grounding you, and leave the salon with a nod of thanks.

Outside, Paris feels sharper, brighter. The air smells faintly of rain and burnt sugar from a nearby crepe stand, and the light is just beginning to soften as dusk approaches. For the first time all day, you feel steady.

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #fcb femeni #fcb femeni x reader #espwnt #espwnt x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso community

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satinloover · 2 years ago

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💙💙💙

#silk blouse #satin blouse #satin #young wife #blue blouse #blue satin #gorgeous

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ai-satin-chic · 9 months ago

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"Excuse me, I'm a little lost. Are you part of the tour group?

#long hair #satin dress #satin pleated skirt #floral blouse #blouse and skirt #blue eyed girl #silk blouse #art gallery #redhead

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skelly-words · 1 year ago

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Pt 2. of Bring Your Tentacle to Work Day

Okay, here you go… same tags as before + some girl-on-girl

Part 3

NSFW, no minors 18+, no children, go away

You don't expect this, your coworker's shyness quickly melts away. Replaced by curiosity as she watches cum drip out of you, obscenely splattering on the floor and dribbling down your legs in thin blue ribbons.

"Where do I get one of those?" She points a shaky finger at your cunt, at the thin tentacle that takes forever to slide out of you.

A low whine leaves your throat as your pussy squeezes around the suckers. they are dragged along your sensitive insides until you're left completely empty. Satisfied with itself, the tentacle begins to wind comfortably around your hip and thigh.

You turn around, avoiding her sparkling eyes as they greedily take you in.

"Um, i-it's work issued. For productivity," you say softly, still looking at the floor. Her shoes shuffle towards you to make the tight stall seem even smaller.

She softly strokes your cheek, trailing a less innocent hand under your skirt to feel at the monster wrapped around your thigh.

"Can you use it on me?" You can feel her hot breath against your face as she leans closer. Her touches are so gentle, waiting for you to guide her, teach her.

You look up at her between damp lashes, her pretty blushing lips are pouting until you say, yes, and start to kiss her. It quickly turns to a messy makeout as your hands crawl up her skirt. She moans into your mouth as her black panties come down around her stilettos.

You can feel how wet her pussy is as she grinds against your thigh, leaving stickiness glossing your skin. The tentacle smells her arousal and loosens on your thigh, shifting and readjusting to bump her clit better.

She pulls away from your lips with a pop as the blue appendage skims up the curve of her ass. She looks at you, a lewd look of excitement flashing across her features as you hear the tentacle pop into her butt. She pants, heavier and quicker than before and clings to your hips for support.

"What? Is it too much?" You tease.

Her hands tighten on you as the thing starts to figure out how to make her squirm. She hides her soft noises in your neck with her drool pooling in the dips of your collar bones. You begin to undo her blouse. The black buttons come undone, one after the other.

She can't let you go, so the silk hangs around her elbows. Her cute little moans and the slick sound of the tentacle filling her up are making your pussy start to throb again.

She gets too loud as you play with her nipples. Your cool touch is torture on the brown buds, stiffening as you roll them back and forth between your fingers. Her perky tits get pinker as you pinch at them and her moans pitch higher. You can feel yourself getting warmer too, abandoning one of her breasts to roll a palm against your cunny.

She's on her knees as soon as your hand drops, pushing your arm and panties aside to nose at your clit. Now you're the one being too loud, whimpering into your clean hand as she shoves her tongue into you.

"I'll cum soon-," she gasps against you, cut off as you try to catch up, hand tangled in her hair to press her closer. She looks up at you, eyes going in and out of focus. The brown fabric of her skirt is bunched around her waist. You can't see the tentacle except for the bulge in her tummy as it fills her up. Two fingers begin to stretch you open. You're so easy to push into, so she forces them as deep as she can reach. She knows what to do when your breath comes faster, latching her perfect lips around your clit as she milks your g-spot.

"Please." It almost hurts, but you're so close to orgasm that you can't seem to care. "I can't squirt again."

Her nods tug at your clit and her fingers are insistent. The digits fuck your pussy into a creamy mess. A third slipping into you makes your thighs start to shake. You cry out as you cum, gushing down her lips and chin as she sucks you through it.

A single tear traces down her cheek, falling into the crease of your thigh. "It's not letting me cum." She leans back to show you her twitching cunt. The tentacle has stilled in her stuffed pussy, leaving her needy and begging.

"That's because it's mine, baby. You'd need to get your own for it to do that." You laugh softly and start to pull your pet out of her. A parting kiss on her puffy lips leaves your mouth wet from her juices.

You straighten your clothes and clean up before leaving the bathroom, fixing any smudged makeup as you hear her desperately trying to cum in the back stall.

Those who asked to be tagged- @mishaglass @gummie-soup + the anon ask

I saw someone comment about eggs on the last part and it kinda had me thinking... I have like no time to write anymore but drop me some inspiration anyway

#nsft tentacles #monster fucker #tentacles #skel writes tentacles #tentacle smut #tentacular

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allurilove · 7 months ago

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Yan! Prince x Siren you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: Gore, murder, death, cannibalism?, physical violence, non-consensual touching, implied sexual exploitation, fem reader, and decapitation.

*This is just a fun short story I wrote for the class I am taking, and I just decided to upload it here! Some parts are influenced by the yandere fic I already made lol! This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: All you have known is peace, all until you get captured by a group of men that unlocks a different side to you. You then meet a prince, a prince driven with a bloodlust for power, and he gives you a proposition.

Men. All they do is bother you.

Your heart beats fast.

Your vision blurs as the familiar blues turn into browns, and your eyes fixate on the woodwork and rustic charm of what is considered to be a ship. The rope burns onto your skin, and your body contorts into an unnatural state as she is hoisted onto the boat.

Your tail thrashes and you try to bite your way out of the trap—teeth gnashing and chewing—and you cry out as youre is hit with a paddle. Your head starts to ring, and your eyes widen as you see the group of men in front of you.

Their garments are quite different from yours; in fact, they are fully dressed from head to toe. Their clothes are all dark, and their blouses have ruffles at the top. They wear boots, have swords at their sides, trench coats, and carry a heavy musk of sweat and battle.

With a sharp and intimidating blade, one of the men cuts through the net. Multiple hands grab for you, and your world comes to a pause as you panic. You feel like you can't breathe and your lungs are about to collapse. You scratch and attempt to plead with your captors, your nails digging into their forearms, drawing long red streaks.

But they do not listen.

“Mighty thang we got ‘ere!” one of the men says, his hair darkened by the rain peltering their bodies. He has a rough scar running down his face– a deep incision that caused his skin to never heal.

You can see a prominent and yellow snaggletooth whenever he speaks. He has an air of authority surrounding him, and his hat has gold embellishments compared to the regular silver everyone else has. That one particular man holds a predatory gaze, his eyes set ablaze with a whirlwind of mischief. “Tie her up, we could use a beaut like her on top of the mantle.”

Laughter fills your ears as the group of men start to agree, and you feel a chill run down your spine as they touch your smooth cheek, their fingers trailing down to your jawline, and moving lower to your collarbones.

Each touch feels intrusive as they pet your silk-like hair condescendingly. “We could send her to the owner at The Pearl of the Eye; I know they are lookin’ for new girls to show off,” another says, his arms crossed as he leaned against the post.

“Aye, tha’ a popular place.” The man with the highest regard starts to pet his scruffy beard in thought. He then catches your withering glare, and a flash of amusement crosses his face. “Feisty one, aren’t ya? I know men who would pay a pretty coin for that temperament.”

“Keep it up, trollop.” he snickers, his finger moving to boop your nose. “You’ll make me thousands of gold in no time.”

Your pupils turn to slits as you bite down onto the man's finger, a metallic taste bursting into your mouth, satisfaction lingering on your tongue. His blood becomes sweet nectar, and with renewed strength and clarity, you unhinge your jaw and attempt to swallow the human whole.

Your hunger becomes endless, and a gnawing angry feeling grows into an insatiable appetite for flesh. For skin to be peeled off meat. For meat to be taken from bone, and their vocal chords to be a part of yours. Your body adjusts to the change, your throat expanding to the men’s silhouette as they traveled down your gullet. Their screams were words of encouragement, egging you to continue.

Humans, and men in particular, tasted different from the fish you were used to. They were heavier, harrier, bloodier, and infested with nasty ambition of lust and pride. You revel in the taste of their guilt, their fear, and the past memories of their wickedness.

No matter how hard the group of men tried to band up and defeat the siren, their swords were no match for your unwavering hatred. You waste zero time to snap multiple necks, your teeth digging into any area that you could rip into shreds, and your stomach becomes full off of their disgustingly filthy urine soaked bodies.

One last man is standing, his eyes wide as saucers and his tears roll down his pale cheeks. He looks young and his uniform doesn't fit him properly. Your nails help your body to crawl towards the shaking figure, he can't even defend himself, and the weapon in his hand shakes. The wind continues to whip around them, the clouds darken as a loud cry comes from the sky, and an array of purple and dark blue strikes down on the earth. The boy yelps when you have an iron grip on his ankle.

Unbeknownst to the siren, a smaller vessel has pulled up to the larger ship.

“I wouldn't touch him, if I were you.” The voice is cutthroat, a harsh demand that sends chills down the spine of the scariest and deadliest creature. You wince as you feel a sharp pain on your scalp, and your hair is now wrapped around a stranger's hand as they yank you back. You crash into a barrel filled with treasures as you are thrown across the ship, and a bunch of diamonds and pearls spill onto the floor.

A tall and proud man stands in front of you, he has pitch black hair that flows in the wind, and his blue eyes shine like bright lights. The unknown man's presence is regal-like, his back straight like an arrow, and his face is trained with unusual niceties. Then the little boy ran into his embrace, and his arms wrapped around him tightly… all before the man pulls out a dagger from his sheath.

Without a single thought, a clean cut to the throat separated the head from the body, and the man’s lips stretched into a wide eerie smile. He isn't phased by the limp body falling to his feet and the blood spilling onto his perfect shoes.

“You… you are exactly what I need.” The man’s eyes are glued to yours and he stares down at you. “My name is Prince....”

The prince that stands before you is practically last in line for the throne. That is what you could surmise from his little rant. He is sadly and disappointingly the second youngest, and he isn't close to the crown and title, at all.

He paced around, one hand on his heart, and the other continued to grip onto the hair of the decapitated head. “I need to be king. I am the only one fit to rule the land. It is like the gods have forsaken me, and they decided to punish me for no apparent reason.”

The man huffs, his eyes narrowing. The waves crash against the sides of the boat, but he stands his ground. “Six siblings ahead of me, and one measly brother behind me– does that seem fair to you? That this kingdom will fall into the hands of dumb and dumber, and eventually to the offspring of the said dumb and dumber?!” His voice is so loud it even rivals the onslaught of thunder, and you can hear a hint of distraught on his otherwise clear and steady tone.

“This is where you come in.” He stops right in front of you. “I can keep you fed, and I can give you all the riches you could ever want. Marry me, carry my children and lineage, and get rid of all of my siblings.” The prince throws the head at your tail, and with a tilt of the ship, it slowly rolls towards you.

The boy's jaw is slack, a tooth chipped from the impact of the fall, and his blue eyes are wide open in fear. He has similar tiny freckles around his nose like the prince, the same facial structure with the high cheekbones, and a tall nose.

“Eat up. You’ll need your strength.”

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