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muffinsin · 2 months

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Hello my FAVORITE child, your Mother stopping by to drop a HC request if ya don't mind humoring me. I give you free reign with the maidens.... they are replaceable . But my vases and flowers are off limits still. You still do no wrong and are so perfect, smart and intelligent.

Also make sure u drain the blood the way Alci showed with the maidens. Now to my ask...... *unfolds a long ass piece of parchment paper and puts on my glasses*

Ok so hear me out. You know my HC on Feral Cass after her Cadou implant. Like babygirl is dumb ass rocks. She cant speak, talk, read, write, like nothing. Her whole brain gets wiped from something going wrong w her Cadou. She ask like a legit animal, like growling and snarls instead of words. U know feral feral.

SO like I would LOVE to hear your HC's on what Feral Cass would be like if she is like on a hunt and finds a pregnant women in the woods. For some reason or the other the women is lost from the village cuz preggo brain. Like she can smell that the women is with child and gets maybe curious about just what that means. *dumb ass rocks Cass but still has those baser instincts to know that this isn't normal prey* And maybe Cass like ends up protecting the women from an attack *cuz u know those woods aint never safe* so she is even more confused on why she did that. Why protect this "bloated "human ? Its just a human... right? She kills humans just to kill, what was different about this one type.

OK I go now... I ramble. BYYYEEEEE MY FAVORTIE CHILD!!!!!!

Hello, Mother @darkittensniper ! I suppose the vases and flowers being off limits is acceptable aims hatchets at the windows Being right and correct and all😌🙌 Dw, I know how to drain em >:)

Nooooow, abso-freaking-lutely! We love sum feral Cassie in this house🙌

Let’s get into it :)!

Masterlists

Noises, smells, visuals, everywhere. Cassandra loves and hates it at the same time

Her head jerks, from left to right, up and down. Her eyes wide, her lips parted enough to allow a glimpse of sharp, white canines dripping blood

Every little sound has her attention

Every little movement has her twitch and glance in the direction

Every scent makes her growl quietly

A hunt- a good hunt, this one will be. Certainly

If only she could settle on a prey. There is simply so much to choose from, she’s foaming at the mouth and growling in excitement already

Birds, boars, rabbits, villagers and hunters, Lycans and bears, even a varcolac!

She turns her head to the right, so fast it feels as though her neck is snapping

Cassandra snarls at the sensation, and for a moment it’s enough to drown out the noise she has just heard

Ah, but it returns. Panting

Yes, unmistakably

Female. Exhausted. Panicking. Crying

Cassandra’s eyes flash dangerously for a moment

She snarls for a mere moment again, her claw-like nails digging sharply into the handles of her daggers. For a second she considers dropping them, before the memory of the special engravings on its handle remind her not to do so

Then, a smirk appears on her face when she catches the direction of the strange scent

She is ready to hunt

She runs fast, uncaring and unaware of her dress getting stuck on twigs and thorns and ripping free again seconds after

Often, it nearly makes her trip. She pays it no mind, only keeps running

She can’t think, can’t talk, can’t do a thing but follow the noise and follow her basic instinct to discover, claim, and kill

The closer the gets, the more feral she seems to become

Her mouth waters at the loud heartbeat she hears, her eyes widen at the overwhelming scent that hits her

Suddenly she stops in her tracks, so sudden it’s as if she’s run into an invisible wall

She snarls, then whimpers, as though in confusion

Certainly, this scent is different than a normal one

Hunger and brutality is met with curiosity

As her legs come to a final halt and she stalks quietly, she finds her prey

She moves under twigs and through bushes, quietly snarking and smacking them away with the sharp sides of the daggers

Her lips curl upwards when she finds her prey again, this time being granted a closer look

Panting, crying, hissing and groaning, clutching her bloated stomach. Poor thing. Not that Cassandra understands

A woman. This much is clear

You’re unaware of the feral, beast-like brunette watching you from among the trees

You don’t hear her growl, her snarl of frustration when she can’t figure out what’s different about you

You don’t care, either, though

Not when all your attention is pulled to your foot and the harsh metal spikes piercing it

The flesh of your ankle is swollen and red, pulsing and radiating heat. You cry out and pant to yourself as you attempt to work on the sharp metallic teeth

A bear trap

Cassandra catches wind of this, too

Her lips are all too dry, and as her tongue darts out to lick them, her eyes flash to the blood covering your ankle

Hunger takes over her again, and as she inhales sharply, a small, excited squeak passes her lips

Her head jerks sideways again when a roar is heard, loud enough to cover her hiss and growls of displeasure and loud enough for even you to hear

A bear

She feels excited again, her bloodlust returning wholly, among something else

She needs to slay this beast

She practically tastes your panic in the air as the sound rings out and scares nearby birds

Is she about to watch the bear devour you? It doesn’t seem so

With a mind too clouded, the feral brunette can’t even entertain the idea of it

Instead, she swarms fast, the tip of her dagger grazing your shoulder as she stands in front of you

Protectively, even

She bares her teeth at the large animal coming from among the twigs and bushes, her own, sharp canines on display, blood and drool forming at her mouth

The beast stares for a moment, as though to think this over

Both are locked into a staring match, neither advert their eyes, neither moving at all

She takes in the black fur, the brown eyes, the mouth pulled to form a snarl similar to hers

Sharp teeth, perhaps even sharper claws on the animal’s paws

She practically vibrates with excitement, her flies buzzing both excitedly and aggressively

After a few seconds, she can’t stand the anticipation any longer

She charges, a growl and snarl coming from her

Yet, in her dizzying bloodlust and excitement, she is once again too fast and little strategic

As the bear moves sideways, Cassandra hisses. She slams against one of the trees, the wood hard against her shoulder

She snarls angrily, her body turning back to the bear running at her. It too is ready to charge now

She rips herself from the tree, her daggers slicing harshly into the bear’s massive neck

As blood spills and slaps her in the face, she laughs, the sound almost high pitched in excitement, the most human one she has been able to make so far

Clearly, she is enjoying herself

You watch in awe as she fights the beast, the show temporarily distracting you from the aching and biting pain of your ankle

The bear falls fast, a loud roar the last sound coming from it when daggers and teeth dig into its neck and rip brutally

A quick death, albeit a bloody one. You wonder if yours will be the same

The brunette hasn’t yet turned her attention back to you

She’s studying the body, sniffing and prodding, cutting and licking the blood off the blades, uncaring when she accidentally makes a cut at her own tongue or lip

You watch her, elegant, yet not elegant at all at the same time…her movements are fast and animalistic, feral

She snaps her head when she hears something, sniffs and tilts her head to examine the corpse

And yet, the way she holds her daggers, the way her back is just slightly arched as she has a look…she has something regal about her, a mere trace of elegance deep within

You turn your attention back to the bear trap

When you attempt to grasp one of the metallic claws and tug the trap open, you nearly scream in pain. It doesn’t budge, and you can’t see it properly with your stomach disallowing you to sit up as you’d like to

You bite down on your lip harshly, so that only a whimper comes from you, and gently stroke over your stomach to calm yourself

You remember what you have been told. To stay calm. To avoid stress. Well, that’s working out well for you…

Yet, you don’t realise that your pained whimper immediately has her head snap back to you

She’s back at you in an instant, her eyes following you when you flinch backwards

She feels- confused

Why did she save you?

Cassandra hovers over you, the blood at her face immediately catching your attention

Yet, with your leg stuck, you can’t even pull away as she climbs over you, the slightly torn parts of her dress almost ticklish against your trapped leg

You watch her face lower to your stomach, her expression almost confused

Cassandra snarls for a moment. No response comes from you or your stomach

Why is it like that? Why do you smell so odd?

She catches the scent, yours, and your blood. And another. A light one. Coming from your stomach

You tense as she inhales, her cheek brushing against your covered stomach

Cassandra only grows more curious. Uncaring about you, she sinks her teeth into the fabric of your shirt and pulls it up

Yet, when she doesn’t find a human curled against you like expected, but a large stomach only, she jumps back in surprise

Had it not been for the quick beat of your heart and the painful ache of your leg, you might’ve laughed at the strange view of this woman being startled by your stomach

However, she is quick to approach you again

With her head tilted sideways, she eyes you curiously

You realise- she isn’t going to hurt you. Nor is she going to hurt your unborn baby

Instead, she keeps sniffing about, eyes wide, fingers poking and prodding as though to confirm it’s your skin

When you attempt to sit up, you scream, having momentarily forgotten about the bear trap

Her eyes flash and widen, and for a mere moment the beautiful gold in them catches you off guard

You watch her move down your body, sniffing and inspecting you, as though checking for more wounds

Then, she is right at the beartrap

She grabs it, and with a firm yank, it comes loose

You scream, and for a moment, clutch your stomach tightly

Confusion sets in when Cassandra copies the action, her bloodied hands on top of you too

She seems unsure of her own actions, as though they’re driven purely by instinct, rather than actual thought and consideration

She watches you for a few more moments, before leaning close to your stomach again

You gasp in surprise when she suddenly smears her face against you, her bloodied cheek rubbing against you

Affectionately, almost

She growls as she repeats the action, again, and again

At last, she faces you again

Her head tilts. She takes you in, you realize. She is curious about you

“I’m from-the village”, you clarify for her. You wonder whether she can even understand you

She certainly looks human

“I got lost”, you admit, your voice raspy from screaming and crying

You don’t dare look down at your injured leg, instead keep your eyes fixated on her golden ones

She whines and snarls for a moment, then seems to come up with whatever she has been trying to think of

You shriek in surprise when her arms wrap around you and you’re lifted off the dirty ground

With certainty, she begins to walk, seemingly bringing you deeper into the forest

#cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #darkittensniper #im the favorite

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inkskinned · 1 year

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probably time for this story i guess but when i was a kid there was a summer that my brother was really into making smoothies and milkshakes. part of this was that we didn't have AC and couldn't afford to run fans all day so it was kind of important to get good at making Cool Down Concoctions.

we also had a patch of mint, and he had two impressionable little sisters who had the attitude of "fuck it, might as well."

at one point, for fun, this 16 year old boy with a dream in his eye and scientific fervor in heart just wanted to see how far one could push the idea of "vanilla mint smoothie". how much vanilla extract and how much mint can go into a blender before it truly is inedible.

the answer is 3 cups of vanilla extract, 1/2 cup milk alternative, and about 50 sprigs (not leaves, whole spring) of mint. add ice and the courage of a child. idk, it was summer and we were bored.

the word i would use to describe the feeling of drinking it would maybe be "violent" or perhaps, like. "triangular." my nose felt pristine. inhaling following the first sip was like trying to sculpt a new face. i was ensconced in a mesh of horror. it was something beyond taste. for years after, i assumed those commercials that said "this is how it feels to chew five gum" were referencing the exact experience of this singular viscous smoothie.

what's worse is that we knew our mother would hate that we wasted so much vanilla extract. so we had to make it worth it. we had to actually finish the drink. it wasn't "wasting" it if we actually drank it, right? we huddled around outside in the blistering sun, gagging and passing around a single green potion, shivering with disgust. each sip was transcendent, but in a sort of non-euclidean way. i think this is where i lost my binary gender. it eroded certain parts of me in an acidic gut ecology collapse.

here's the thing about love and trust: the next day my brother made a different shake, and i drank it without complaint. it's been like 15 years. he's now a genuinely skilled cook. sometimes one of the three of us will fuck up in the kitchen or find something horrible or make a terrible smoothie mistake and then we pass it to each other, single potion bottle, and we say try it it's delicious. it always smells disgusting. and then, cerimonious, we drink it together. because that's what family does.