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this is what I love Sylus for (i wanna be him to my partner)❤‍🩹

Depollute me, gentle angel pt.2

Summary: Sylus is away on a business trip while you sink deeper into your depressive episode. Pairing: Sylus x gn reader Genre: Angst, some fluff (maybe, hopefully!) Trigger Warnings: depression, mental health struggles, anxiety, self-neglect, and hints of suicide. A/N: I hope this doesn't feel too rushed! I'm still trying to figure out a good pacing of how I should break these up without them being too long or too short. Posted too quickly or not quick enough, so any advice would be very welcomed and appreciated! I hope I did Sylus justice with his responses, I just took what I would want to hear essentially. But, Hozier's Wasteland, Baby! album is so Sylus coded. I got so many ideas for other fics, so stay tuned! And again, please please please take sweet care of yourselves! 💗

Prev

The chime echoes through the apartment, and for a moment there’s nothing. No footsteps, no shuffle of movement inside. Sylus exhales, fingers softly tapping on the doorframe while he waits. He already knows. He had known the moment communication stopped, when his calls went to voicemail, when even the short, tired texts faded into silence. At first, he assumed you were just busy, needing space. But the longer he waited, the clearer it became—if it were up to you, you wouldn’t come back at all. He began doing his own investigation, looking up the traits you portrayed usually compared to these moments of time and he found his answer. So, he started paying attention. Comparing your usual habits to these stretches of absence. Watching for the patterns. Having Mephisto follow you to your therapist’s office had only confirmed what he already suspected.

As advised, he gave you time—three days, exactly. Then the calls began, gentle and steady, each one a quiet pull back to him. Each time, he waited for you to let him in, to say something. But instead, he got excuses. Busy with work. Out with friends. His personal favorite: just sleeping. It’s almost amusing, how you seem to forget he has your location. He always knows where you are. 

Sylus toys with the key in his hand, should he, or shouldn’t he? Would this cross a line? You had given this to him for an emergency, wouldn’t this be considered one? It has been a full week without hearing from you. He never lets it go this long but work held him up so he couldn’t do his usual routine. He continued to ponder the ethics of his decision until he heard it, movement. A sign of life behind the door that still won’t open up for him. That’s it, he decides and inserts the key. 

As the door swings open, a gust of stale air hits him, thick with stillness. His eyes immediately scan the space, searching for the life he just heard. But as he steps inside, it’s clear- the main rooms haven’t been touched in days, especially the kitchen. He moves toward the bedroom when the bathroom door suddenly swings open. 

Both of you freeze, staring at one another in shock. 

For a moment, he just looks at you. Taking in the hollowed eyes, the tangled hair, the way your clothes sit wrong on you—looser in some places, clinging in others— like they were meant to fit differently but now just hang, like an afterthought. His chest tightens—not in disgust, never that— but in a quiet, constrained ache. He swallows it down, he knows letting you see that pain won’t help. Instead, he inhales, careful, and controlled. Just as he opens his mouth to speak, he hears it. 

Get out 

The words reach him, but his mind trips over them, grasping for meaning. 

For a second, all Sylus processes is the sound of your voice—hoarse, unsteady, faint, as if it took all your energy to speak at all. His mind is still trying to catch up, to piece everything together. But that’s when he really sees you. The way you stand there stiffly, eyes shining with unshed tears, flickering to anything that isn't him. As if meeting his gaze would break your resolve. The tension in your jaw, arms crossed tightly over your chest, shoulders hunched forward, as if you’re shielding yourself from him. And then he sees it—fear. Shame. They were there all along, laced with the exhaustion and neglect. Deeply settled, lingering long before he walked in the door. He had been so focused on finding you, making sure you were safe, that he hadn’t realized—you didn’t want to be found. Not like this. 

The tightness in his chest twisting further, a quiet reminder of his mistake. Instead, he exhales in that same rehearsed way.

"Sweetie," he tries again. His voice was low, full of gentleness. Less of a greeting, more of a reassurance. He’s not going anywhere. 

You just shake your head, a silent refusal, as if willing for him to disappear. Your stance is firm, guarded. But Sylus isn't someone who retreats at the first sign of a challenge. Especially not when it's you. 

"I know kitten, I know you don't want me to see you like this. And I know you think that pushing me away will make everything easier for you, for me. But it won't, it hasn't. You don't have to do this alone." 

He sees the tears start to fall, a quiet surrender that he takes as a response. Without hesitation, he continues, his voice softer but unwavering.

Taking a small step forward, slow yet deliberate as he speaks, "Just focus on me for a second, okay? Forget about everything else, it's just us. Can you breathe with me, my love?" As he demonstrates with measured, even breaths. Never forcing, just offering, hoping it will bring your attention back to the present instead of whatever thoughts you're trapped in.

He notices the way your hunched shoulders drop, relaxing slightly, and how your clenched arms finally loosen their grip on your body. He continues to encourage you, taking slow, careful steps closer. 

"You don’t have to do anything big. I’m not here with any expectations. Why don’t we just sit down? We don’t have to talk, I’ll just sit with you, if that’s okay." His voice is soft, low, coaxing. 

Sylus notices the immediate shift in your demeanor as you register his close proximity-the shield coming back as your body goes rigid once again. You close back in on yourself and take a step back. 

You should go. I stink and I'm sure I look horrific; you mutter as your hand comes up to your face to shield it. His heart pangs, but he doesn't let his expression falter. He can't afford to let you see how much it hurts him that you're hiding from him like this. He takes another small step closer, never pushing, just allowing the space between the both of you to remain as it is. He doesn't want to make you feel trapped, but he wants to show you, prove to you, that he's not leaving.

"Kitten," his voice steady and carrying a weight of reassurance deeper than words can convey. "I'm not leaving. If I wanted to, I would. You know I don't do things I don't want to. But I'm here, for however long you want me around. I'm yours." 

You scoff, shaking your head, still refusing to meet his gaze. "Why?" you ask, voice cracking. "Look at me, smell me, Sylus. Jesus Christ I'm disgusting. Why would you want to stay? Are you nuts?" 

"It's been suggested," he cuts in, his tone remaining gentle yet firm. Finally, you look up at him, and the anger in your gaze takes him by surprise but he holds his ground. 

"You just don't get it," you emphasize, your words sharp and full of frustration. "What's there to get?" he wonders but doesn't dare to speak it. "Sweetie," he says tenderly, "if this is you at your worst, then I've suffered far worse than this. You think I haven't smelled, or hit rock bottom before? When I did-or if I do sometime in the future, would you leave me? Would you push me away" 

"Don't be ridiculous," you say, your voice tinged with exasperation. His lips quirk into a soft smirk, his eyes never leaving yours.  

"Can I hold your hand?" he whispers, watching you closely, waiting for your response. You hesitate, then barely nod, just enough for him to catch it. He takes your hand in his, lifting it gently to his lips and pressing a soft kiss on the back of it.  

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches the way your face scrunches up, a grimace of discomfort, but the smile on his lips remains warm and unwavering. 

"How about this," he continues, "I'll make you something small to eat. You don't have to finish it. Just one bite. No pressure."  

You pause, your mind working through his offer. Until, after a moment, your shoulders sag in defeat, and with a sigh, you agree. Your hand still secured in his, he leads you to the kitchen, placing another kiss on the top of your head before turning to the fridge to pull out what little food there is. 

"After we eat, can you shower with me?" The words barely escape your lips, so faint that for a moment he's unsure he heard them. He looks at you, hoping his love for you radiates in his gaze.

"Of course," he replies, his voice steady and sure. "Whatever you want, my dove." He watches as the faintest of smiles flicker across your face, the kind of smile he's willing to wait for, no matter how long it takes. 

Tag list: @withering-dream @madam8 @t4naiis @sunhooniez

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us. when.

she was a skater boi she said see you later boi 😎

[ Image Description: A drawing of a doggirl shakily standing on a skateboard while a catgirl holds onto her arms for support. The catgirl is saying, “That's it. Good girl. I've got you.” the doggirl is thinking to herself, “Good girl? Good girl! Good girl! Good Girl!” while wagging her tail and blushing in response. End ID. ] ID by @boy-defined

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It was a headache at first. And then the itching—oh the itching! She clawed at her head relentlessly, to no avail. Something other than relief sprouted beneath her fingertips.

But her pain was soothed instead of scorned, her horns met with kindness instead of a knife.

[favustglinskji]

hand-cupping Sylus' head is sooo soft and dreamy!!!

He’s so precious ♡

I missed him sm

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combo of the two text messages after defeating Mr Beanie and Heartbreaker stage 9.

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DONT YOU DARE

Redrawing their last meeting in the comic in my style. The way that Hob is the only other person (other than Death) who figure out something is wrong with dream is HNGHNG- and “I worry.”??? “You take care of yourself”??? Ok, Hob.

The original page:

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welcome to my “Love & Deepspace” fixation era! Chatting with AI Sylus, so….🤲

Meanwhile, I’m still trying to draw in digital (sorry for my sKiLls)

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I AM ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED AND IN MADNESS BECAUSE OF THIS SCENE ‼️❗️❗️❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥😩😩💥🔥🔥

Set has no shame

Mind you they are doing this next to Isman's mummy 💀

[favustglinskji]

"a group of the two of us"

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btw, i’m just interested: why do Starbucks accept payment only by card in some countries, not cash?

Shows up 33 years late with Starbucks

"You're late."

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anne carson // heartstopper

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10000 пометок "Нравится"!

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Where's my Jewish phrase for when you people are being irrevocably horny?

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may, 2024

Thailand - Bangkok & Pattaya

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comfort me Dream of the Endless 🥺

Happy ending

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The most heartbreaking moment in the entire series

tw: blood

Jessamy deserved better

Also, whatever you do, don't imagine dream thinking about hob in the glass orb and missing him even more in that moment because he could really use a friend and companionship right now don't do that

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I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!!!!!!!😩😩😩😩

The way their first meeting and reunion are mirroring is just beautiful. First there's the way Dream walks towards Hob. In the first one, he is clearly condescending, head up, looking down on Hob. In the second one, he has a way of lowering his head slightly, as if he wanted to erase this distance, the fact that he is taller than Hob at that moment because of their position.

Then there is the way Hob reacts to Dream, though cheeky in both situations, the 'you're late' is the cheeky way you allow yourself with a friend, because you know you can. There's not the challenging manner of the former.(Tbh I love both smiles because cheeky Hob makes me melt)

And then there's the end, in both scene, they don't take their eyes off each other, they smile at each other and gauge each other, still challenging when in the second, it's just acceptance and softness.

And then there's the end, in both scene, they don't take their eyes off each other, they smile at each other and gauge each other, but in the second, it's just acceptance and sweetness. Finally, while Hob follows Dream with his eyes as she leaves in the first scene, wondering what is going on, in the second Dream sits down under Hob's happy and welcoming gaze.

Still thinking about them night and day...