lady lazarus.

can you understand? someone, somewhere, can you understand me a little, love me a little? for all my despair, for all my ideals, for all that - i love life. but it is hard, and i have so much - so very much to learn.

[herrlazarus]

this blog is for SYLVIA PLATH, a BUNGOU STRAY DOGS OC. this blog welcomes crossovers, alternate universes, original characters (obviously), multimuses, and canon-divergent muses! mun is 22, blog is 18+, semi-selective, and will feature triggering content and spoilers.

RULES / BIOGRAPHY / PERMENANT STARTER CALL

OTHER ACCOUNTS: @doubledollar​ ; vash the stampede ; medium activity @eigenfrequencies ; genshin impact oc ; medium activity

[herrlazarus]

i’m still around, just suffering from jkk brainrot fakjsdfa

[abilitypossessed-m]

@herrlazarus​ liked this post for a starter

“O-oh, I’m sorry!” Nervously, the girl put her hands up in an attempt to not cause any more trouble than she currently has. Apparently she had been once again clumsy enough to cause herself to bump into someone. And by the looks of it, it seems to have been someone of a much higher standing than herself. Suit, tie, briefcase.

She got herself into trouble again, didn’t she?

She was more than aware of the fact that in general, the high class proved to be unable to understand that an accident is an accident, and that not every little thing is meant to be a personal attack on them.

And it seems that this was once again the case.

“Who the hell do you think you are? You got my coffee all over me and I have a meeting in a half an hour!”

“I’m sorry, I really am, I didn’t see you there-”

“That doesn’t excuse what you did!”

Help her help her help her- Minty, Dia, anyone, she wasn’t looking to die today!

[herrlazarus]

she’s not one to involve herself in others affairs, preferring to sit back and observe. in fact, that was exactly what sylvia had been doing for the past month, slipping into the background of this poor woman’s life like a fly on the wall. gathering information was, after all, one of her specialties, and while she would normally worm her way into her target’s life sooner, she’d been waiting for the perfect moment - and here it was. she walks up, back straight, a confident woman dressed smartly, someone who can both be the center of attention and a faceless figure at the edge of the crowd. a soothing hand, which is more like a snake in the grass, reaches out to the angry man - and takes that anger from him, feels the way it ignites her veins like fire. if she weren’t so controlled, she might take that anger and turn it on him, forgotten to the new emotion, but luckily, she’s experienced.  ❝oh, what a horrible accident! but the poor dear is sorry, isn’t she? such a thing could happen to anyone.❞ she’s all sympathetic smiles to both parties, free hand reaching in her pocket to pull out a sum of money - far too much than this guy deserves really, but money has never been an issue.

❝here, why don’t you take this and go get a new suit? there’s this great tailor just down the road, i’m sure they’ll be able to find a nice premade one to fit you before your big meeting. call it my good deed of the day.❞

[herrlazarus]

agravaki·:

            stale petrichor does nothing to deplete the aroma of ichor that greets him.   distinctly tied with the moringstar’s obituary.   a fragile sermon cauterized by waxen hellfire   ;   as if icarus knew not what it was like to burn within the ashes of sorrow.   it’s a sad fucking sight   ,   one that should bring a counter of spiraling ridicule from lips   —————   they had never been friends   ,   had they ?   when the looking glass presented a refraction of the pain he’d understood far too often   ;   admist atrophy in the callous deceit of the world   .   .   .   they both stood as equals   ;   bitterly alone   &   succumbed to rot within the entropy of cascaded stars.   left only till the remains of acrylics that paint cobblestone   &   allow for silent kerosene tears to fall.

in any scenario   ;   the tables could be flipped so easily.   maybe that’s why there’s an absence of mirth till his guise.   demeanor indifferent with how steps are taken only for him to kneel before the other   ,   an unspoken empathy conveyed within mismatched hues of grief.   though he still has the decency to rid tension from air.   scoff passing lips as gaze strays to surrounding area as sardony eclipses words.   “   hah   ,   I’ve heard better jokes than this excuse for one   —————   y’ really gotta work on y’ delivery.   ”

suspire trails syllables   ,   “   how ‘bout we cut the bullshit of runnin’ around in this game to save y’ pride cause from what I can see   ———   shits already in shambles   &   I ain’t really got the fuckin’ patience to see y’ die tonight.   so just be fuckin’ honest with me for a change.   ”   tone softens   ,   eyes narrowing.   “   how bad is it   ?   ”

there’s part of her wants to bite back - call it habit, a wolf that growls at the smell of pity (and that must be what it is, she can’t imagine real concern towards her), but she’s too overwhelmed to actually do so. if she could manage, she’d at least reach out and flick his nose - a thought completely out of character, but she can’t help but think it’d be fitting in this situation - but even that would take too much energy. sylvia stares evenly at him, almost as if she’s weighing her options; being honest is something she views as a trap, and she’s not quite sure she can place his intentions, but she’s also not stupid enough to misunderstand her situation. ❝well, it depends. the knife wounds only need to be stitched up, but this...❞ her hand moves away from her side, where most of the blood seems to be coming from, ❝luckily the bullet passed right through, but blood loss is a hell of a threat; i’ve already lost quite a lot.❞ in fact, it’s starting to get harder to catch her breath, and the numbness in her legs is worrisome sign. 

❝if i do end up surviving, all of this is going to leave such an ugly scar. who likes a woman with such marks? i’ll have to avoid bikinis during the summer now...❞ her tone is tired, but there is a bit of humor to it - looks like she’s already working on her jokes.  though the mention of scars makes her mind turn to hughes; she wonders what he would say right now (would he be concerned, picking her up in his arms to carry her to safety? or would he just stand there silently and watch her soul leave?). is it true that your mind wanders to those you love when you’re dying? if so, this confirmation is a bitter pill to swallow - she doesn’t want to still love him.

[herrlazarus]

@agravaki​ ♥’d for a starter!

a mission gone wrong, a rarity but something that manages to always do the most damage. the woman sits, curled up, in the darkened alleyways, her hand pressing harshly against a deep wound on her side - but it is not enough, for she bleeds elsewhere. a miscalculation and clumsy fingers. silently listening to the echoing of the city, breathing slowly, welcoming the pain (makes things real, feel less like a ghost despite the irony, more alive when she’s close to death than anytime else). she’s content to sit here in silence for hours until she can manage to stand up, and yet footsteps ring in her ears. she tenses, tries to get to her feet and yet finds that her legs have become numb and useless beneath her.  she doesn’t expect to see red hair and that stupid hat. almost laughs. did the noise draw him in or the familiar smell of blood? it hurts to look at him. her fire is a burning ember, glowing coal of broken heart pieces laying shattered against the floor - they glow for a moment, but fade out into nothing but ash blown away with a breeze. but his; oh, how it climbs higher and higher, engulfing oxygen with an eager tongue, bursting with crackles and although it may wane, grow small, it never extinguishes. her flame can’t compare. did she too used to be like that? eager and ready to fight against whatever threw its weight against her? it’s hard to remember (because of the blood or because such memories do not exist?), and so she doesn’t try for much longer, smiles at the executive enemy? friend? walking mirror? though it is more grimace than anything.

❝come to laugh? go ahead, get it out of your system.❞ venomous tone is absent; she can’t muster up the strength, ❝there’s better ways to spend your time than watching a dying woman.❞ 

[herrlazarus]

wow okay i’m back on, i’ve missed sylvia soooo much!!! SO like for a starter? 

[herrlazarus]

@voidveined​ ♡ for a one-liner | accepting

❝i think my heart is ready to die.❞

[herrlazarus]

@somegremlin​ ♡ for a starter | accepting

❝and if dreams can become true, what does that say about nightmares?❞

[herrlazarus]

@quintascension​ ♡ for a one-liner | accepting

❝clearly we enable our addictions.❞

[yesbpdbabe-deactivated20210115]

light filters in poem show//caroline kaufman

[herrlazarus]

tw: spousal abuse, self harm, cheating

A little bit about Sylvia and Hughes in canon.

Sylvia and Hughes met in the Guild after Fitzgerald brings her in. There’s an instant attraction, something that could be mistaken for love at first sight, but very quickly one will see that this is no fairytale match. The two are almost constantly bickering, with Hughes having a large dislike for Sylvia’s headstrong and confident personality though unable to part from her completely, and Sylvia’s own refusal to break or water herself down. The two do end up together (though not by marriage, and they certainly don’t have any children together), and while at times the relationship appears to show two healthy, loving adults, it often becomes quite violent behind closed doors. Shouting matches, bruises, and silent treatments are common. It ultimately ends much like the one in reality - the discovery of Hughes’ adultery. She has, for the most part, cut off all ties with the man, who would leave the Guild shortly after. However, occasional meetings do happen, though often they end rather poorly and leave Sylvia in a horrid mood. Some little facts about their relationship:

  • Hughes’ was one of the few people that Sylvia would refer to using his first name, Ted.    • Sylvia became most destructive towards herself after they split, using her ability to take away the pain of others in order to inflict it on herself as a form of self harm. While this form of coping was not new, it was far more severe during this point of her life, and she still has not completely recovered.   • If you were to ask her if she regrets anything in the relationship, she would simply answer that she regrets ever trusting another person with herself. In reality, she regrets that she was not good enough for Hughes, and that she could not be the perfect partner.                       • Adding to this, Hughes’ rejection of her has severely impacted how she views her relationships with others. It’s a major reason she holds people at bay, refusing to accept anyone as a friend or even close acquaintance.    

[herrlazarus]

                                                PERMANENT STARTER CALL

by liking this post (💓), you give me permission to:

bother you ooc! especially in discord!

send you random starters or tag you in posts i think relate to our muses

spam you with asks! randomly or relating to a meme

ramble about our muses with you! especially plotting out their relationship and potential threads

basically be your friend ooc asdfasdf

[herrlazarus]

tag drop.