black dahlia

[dahliaghoul-a]

are you interested in a HORROR survivor, with split lips and traumatic backgrounds? how about a girl who wants to become a chef in her verses where she SURVIVED? a lesbian whose life was snuffed out before it truly began, Elisabet Moor has ribbons in her cheeks and a chink in her heart, follow Dahliaghoul for more. 

[myaskboxmemes]

Tell me what you like about my portrayal

[rpaskboxmemes-deactivated202004]

Send me a HELLO and I'll answer...

If we kissed:

[] This wouldn’t happen.

[] Oh disgusting.

[] Again, again.

[] Kiss you back.

[] Let’s take this to the bedroom.

[] Slap/Push you away.

[] Be confused

If you asked me out I’d say:

[] Um no.

[] I’m taken-

[] Sure.

[] HOLY ASDFGHJK YESSSSS.

Can we cuddle?:

[] No.

[] Ew.

[] Sure.

[] YES.

Sex?:

[] Let’s do it.

[] No. You can’t handle my d.

[] FUCK YES.

[] No.

Should you reblog this?:

[] Yes. I want to send you one.

[] Yes.

[] No.

[dahliaghoul-a]

caucusrxce·:

Without so much as a reply, Vincent looked down at the drawing before him. He rudely paid little mind to the woman behind the paper and began to grip the bottom of the sheet tightly with a singular, gloved hand. He tsked to himself inside of his head.

Sadly, for the woman, the drawing was far too vague for Vincent to tell if it was anyone that he interacted with or even saw on a regular basis. Still, he studied the features on the drawing for a good time; much longer than he’d ever need to, but long enough to make it seem as if he knew something. Perhaps he had seen the man and perhaps he hadn’t — he couldn’t be sure unless the man was described to him further. But more information came at a price, both on his end and for the woman who had approached him. Vincent released the paper from his tight grip, leaving it mildly warped from the pressure and warmth of his hands.

“Hmm.. doesn’t ring a bell quite yet,” he nonchalantly shrugged, “If help finding him is what you want, maybe you should start by asking nicely and speaking up about what’s in it for me.” It seemed as though there was nary a moment that there wasn’t a devilish grin on the nobleman’s face. He was never up to any good, and he knew that better than anyone else.

THE RIPPED-MOUTH girl watches him with steady eyes, ruby hues fixated upon his features. her mask hid away her tears, the ghoul hopeful and blind in the delusion that someone - anyone - would be able to help her find her killer with such a dismal display. 

OPENING HER MOUTH, the answer came simply. “I’ll do whatever you want me to,” she promised without thinking, her voice calm. she’s been through hell and back, she’s died and come back; what more could this man do to her that that monster hadn’t done? 

EXHALING THROUGH HER nose, the girl pulls her mask off, exposing her sewn-up injuries. the thread - or rather ribbon - she used was coming slightly undone, fingertips moving fast to retie the bow at the corner of her mouth. 

“HE’S AROUND 5′11, roughly... I’d say 200 lbs,” she remembered how he felt and shudders at the memory. she remembered his strength, his gross, clammy hands on her skin... red hues flash with anger, and she crumples up the paper. “I want him dead.” 

NO, SHE WANTED him to suffer like she had. she wanted him to feel loss like she had, still mourning her family and her stolen youth. “I’ll do anything you want, as long as you help me catch the motherfucker who did this to me.”

[dahliaghoul-a]

WEARING HER MASK, Dahlia approaches the male. she’s heard of him before -- a poisoner of sorts -- and a nobleman. her memory of her killer was still crystal clear in her mind. she knew him by the scent, sight, and sound. however, that was also twenty years ago and she’s been gone for that long. but, with courage in her heart, crimson eyes fixate upon the blond in front of her now. 

“DO YOU KNOW this man?” it was a rather crude drawing, but the general features were horrifyingly simplistic - and worse, could be anyone (monsters don’t hide in plain sight, they wear human skins). | @caucusrxce

[fightasone]

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