#sandman fandom

His senses, honed over uncountable millennia of rule, were attuned to disturbances so small that even other Endless would not have marked them. A shift in the air. A tremor in the fabric of the Dreaming. A warmth where there should have been only cool starlight. You moved through his realm with the same inevitability as the tides pulling at the moon, with a certainty that did not demand attention yet commanded it all the same.

He turned toward the source, the familiar weight of his cloak brushing the dream-silk floor in soft, soundless swishes. The fabric drank in the light, or perhaps it shaped it, dark as a starless sky yet threaded with faint, distant glimmers, like constellations half-remembered by sleeping minds. His eyes, black as obsidian and just as reflective, softened immediately when they found you.

You stood there, radiant and composed, your presence a quiet disruption in a realm built of shadow and thought. You were not fragile. You had never been. There was power in the way you held yourself, in the stillness of your shoulders, in the way your aura shimmered faintly around you, neither aggressive nor restrained. It marked you as divine without spectacle, a goddess who did not need to announce herself. A goddess among mortals, yes, but also something more. Something bound here, to him, by promises spoken before stars learned how to burn.

“You have lingered too long in the waking world, my love” Dream said at last. His voice was low, even, carefully controlled. Relief threaded through it, tightly wound, as though he had not permitted himself to feel it until this moment. Beneath that relief was something sharper, something almost protective. “I feared that you would be lost to them. That their endless needs would claim more of you than you could afford to give.”

You did not bristle at his words. You never did. Instead, you met his gaze steadily, your expression soft but unyielding.

“I was needed,” you replied. Your voice carried authority without cruelty, certainty without arrogance. The words settled into the Dreaming like sunlight spilling into a darkened hall. Your eyes glowed faintly, molten gold warmed by something gentler beneath it, like dawn filtered through thin cloud. “Humans are fragile, Dream. Their fears grow teeth when left unattended. Their nightmares do not remain contained the way yours do. They leak. They bleed into waking thought, into violence, into despair.”

You took a step closer, not touching him yet, but closing the distance all the same.

“I could not leave them unchecked,” you continued. “And you could not intervene directly. Not in their hearts. Not in the choices they make while awake. That has never been your role.”

Dream’s expression did not change, but his hands tightened slightly at his sides. He felt the truth of your words settle into him, heavy and unavoidable. He had shaped dreams for centuries beyond count. He had guided, punished, comforted, and withdrawn. But waking hearts were not his domain, and never had been. That had always been where you walked alone.

He studied you carefully, as though committing the moment to memory. The way your hair caught the strange, directionless light of the Dreaming. The fine lines of your face that spoke not of age but of endurance. Of centuries spent listening to prayers no one else heard. Of standing beside humanity even when they did not know you were there.

For all his mastery over this realm, for all the dreams and nightmares that bent beneath his will, Dream had never known devotion like yours. Not from mortals. Not from gods. Not from his own siblings. Until you.

“And yet,” he said quietly, stepping closer. His shadow stretched ahead of him, reaching for you like a living thing. “Even after all that, you returned.”

His hand lifted, hovering near yours. The motion was hesitant, restrained, as though even after eternity together, he still feared overstepping some fragile boundary.

“Even after seeing what you must see,” he went on, “after carrying what you must carry, you returned to me.”

You smiled then. It was not hurried. It was not uncertain. It was the smile of someone who had made their choice long ago and never regretted it. Tender, yes, but commanding all the same.

“Always,” you said. “Even the strongest gods must find rest somewhere.” Your gaze softened as it traced his face. “Even you need a companion. You bear the world of dreams. Do you truly believe that weight leaves you untouched?”

His eyes darkened, but not with anger. It was the deepening of a storm cloud, heavy and quiet, filled with unspent rain.

“Do you believe I have not felt it?” he asked softly. “I shape the Dreaming. I contain it. I hold the fears and hopes of all who sleep beneath the sky. I have borne it for ages beyond numbering.” He hesitated, then allowed his gaze to flick briefly to the glow of your aura. “And yet… with you here, the burden eases. Not because it is gone, but because it is shared.”

You closed the final distance between you. Your fingers brushed his, just barely, but the contact sent a subtle ripple through the air, through the walls, through the fabric of the Dreaming itself. It was not a violent surge. It was quieter than that. More intimate.

You rested your head against his chest, fitting there as though the space had always been made for you. Beneath your cheek, you felt the impossible heartbeat of the Dreaming, slow and endless, echoing through him. It was steady. Familiar. It recognized you.

“Then let me share it,” you murmured. “Your watchfulness. Your silence. Your loneliness.” Your hand curled lightly against his chest. “We are not separate. Not in dreams. Not in waking. Not in the moments between, when the world sleeps and no one believes they are being watched.”

The Dreaming responded to your closeness. Corridors shifted and softened. Distant stars dimmed and brightened as if breathing. The air grew warmer, fuller, heavy with memory. Time did not move here as mortals understood it, but something unfolded all the same, slow and inevitable.

“I feared,” Dream said at last, his voice so quiet it barely disturbed the air, “that even you might one day leave me.”

You felt the truth of that confession settle into your bones.

“You are bound to all that breathes and suffers,” he continued. “How could you choose to remain with me, when the world calls you away again and again?”

You lifted your head, meeting his gaze fully. Your eyes burned softly, gold threaded with fire, eternity held steady by resolve.

“I am bound,” you said. “Bound to their fragility. Bound to their hope. Bound to the quiet moments when they believe no one is listening.”

Your hand tightened around his.

“But I am bound to you as well. You are my rest. My storm. My sanctuary. Even gods must choose where they place their hearts. I chose you long before this realm learned my name.”

Dream’s breath hitched, just slightly. He reached for you then, finally, his hand closing over yours. It was warm and cold all at once, the paradox of him, the paradox of eternity given form. The moment your fingers fully intertwined, the Dreaming exhaled. Shadows curled away. Light softened. The realm itself seemed to acknowledge the bond you shared.

“There is no one else,” he said, his voice rough with emotion he rarely allowed himself to feel, let alone voice. “No one who has remained in the spaces between dreams. You are more than my wife. You are my tether. You remind me that I am not alone.”

You pressed your forehead to his, smiling gently.

“And you remind me,” you replied, “that I am allowed to rest. To stop listening for a moment. To be held without obligation.”

The Dreaming bent around you, reverent and still. Light and shadow and scent wove together, enclosing the two of you in a moment that belonged to no one else. Eternity waited. Duty paused.

“Stay,” Dream said quietly. It was not a command. It was not an expectation. It was a plea spoken by a being who had ruled forever and yet still feared loss. “Stay with me.”

“I will,” you whispered. “I always have. I always will. When the world calls me away, I return. When the last dream fades, I will still be here. I am yours, Dream, as you are mine.”

The Dreaming sighed, corridors stretching and curling, brightening in places that had known only shadow. Two cosmic beings stood together at the heart of it, choosing one another again, not despite their duties, but alongside them.

— — —

🌙 @embervoices gets a mention because you are one of the few people who also share my love for poems. Poetry might be a tiny fandom niche, but that’s exactly why I put it at the top of my list.

🌙 @tickldpnk8 because your meta brain works like mine, my partner in crime.

🌙 @gifs-by-renegadesstuff because your gifsets always make me not just watch a scene again, but truly see it.

🌙 @karmaisacat0121 because your art is absolutely stunning and more people should give it some love.

🌙 @amones because your art hits me where it hurts, but in a good way.

🌙 @vivisectrix speaking of art: You get a shoutout because I’m still not over your wonderful art for my fic 😩 (and this is when I love fandom most: gifting and community)

🌙 @dragonnan because I love myself some wild whiplash between beautiful and completely unhinged (and I mean this in the best possible way). Those panel redraws shall never be forgotten…

There are many, many others (I wanted to post only five, and as you can tell, I failed miserably), so hopefully, this is just a start.

Lucien chuckled, pausing her steps once she realized you'd gotten sidetracked. “I was going to say an ice age, but your optimism is appreciated.”

“I'm just stating facts.” You turned away from the snowflakes coating the edges of the window to meet her gaze. “Why's he isolating himself?”

“Sometimes I feel it is a thing of the Endless, but my lord is particularly adept at falling into his work and further into himself.”

Your lips pursed at the thought of those molten eyes--the way his brow raised when he listened to you babble about the day’s events. He'd never seemed particularly distant. Maybe quiet at times but never unreachable.

In truth, you had known Morpheus barely a few months now. You hadn't expected to run into something so god-like from working at a pub under Hob, but you'd been seeing strange things your entire life. Hob liked to call it your “psychic sense,” but Morpheus had taken one look at you and waxed poetry about “seeing the veil as it was and not what it poses to be” or something similar. You'd zoned out a bit from how handsome he was but understood the gist of it.

Apparently one little joke about lucid dreaming was enough to draw an Endless to the lonely little nights in your head. Hob lost it when you mentioned it forever ago.

“Don't laugh! I feel like I pissed him off," you whined. "He shows up like every other week and judges me!”

“He is many things, including judgemental," Hob agreed over his coffee as you pulled down chairs and sliced fruit in preparation for the day ahead, “but he seems awfully interested in you. Best be careful. I can't go and lose my favorite worker, now.”

You weren't lost so much as drawn in by the beauty of the Dreaming, though perhaps that's what Hob had meant from the beginning.

Still, you desperately wanted to go out into that fluffy snow.

“So he's busy with dreams?” you asked Lucien, hands behind you as you marveled the detailed ceilings overhead. “Workaholic over the holidays?”

“My lord doesn't keep to annual holidays.”

“Oh, right, he's like...ancient." Lucien smiled and remained silent as any smart woman would. “Well, how long has he been isolating himself? Can he take a break?”

She waved hand deeper into the castle. “You may try, but don't be disheartened if he doesn't listen.”

The throne room doors didn't budge. You attempted to knock, swaying as you glanced around and pulled your gifted coat closer. You sniffed against the cold air and fixed your sliding glasses, huffing to yourself. Why you always dreamed with them on was anyone's guess.

“Morpheus?” you called out, voice echoing. “Or should I call you Boreas? The Dreaming’s been snowed in.”

Silence. You pressed your ear to the door as if it weren't made of thick, dream-induced material.

“You know, there's this thing called seasonal depression in my world—real tough stuff." You attempted to find a keyhole to stare through and found nothing. Even the the bottom of the door was tight and sealed. "You ever had hot cocoa? It's not a cure-all, but I like to think it's a good balm to the soul.”

You dragged your knuckles over the door, shivering at the chill emitting from it. Movement on your shoulder had you glancing down. The shadows of snowfall paraded over you gently from beyond the windows. Your feet itched.

“Or maybe some fun exercise?” you tried, lips close to the seam of the doors. “Ever made a snow angel?”

On the other side of those doors, a rare thing occurred: Dream of the Endless smiled.

His last meeting with Hob had been ordinary before the immortal man had raised his hand and waved you over. The Endless had seen his reflection before he had seen you—a wonder behind wire frames.

Morpheus had visited his old friend some days ago, asking after you, about your talent and how it brought you to his pub.

“She took one look at me,” he chuckled, leaning in with a smile full of youth and wit, “and immediately asked me how old I was.”

“Astute,” said the Endless.

“To the point,” Hob corrected. “And if you don't speak up, she'll see right through you, too.”

Morpheus' eyes thinned, shoulders taught as he raised his chin.

“And what is there to see?”

The old but never aging man gave him a look. All that he meant to say in this one expression, however, was not something the Endless wished to perceive.

“Christmas is her favorite time of the year. She moved here to experience more ‘winter wonderlands.’” Hob leaned back, shuffling a stack of papers onto the table that had been sitting next to him, ignored. “Now, old friend, we both have work to attend to.”

Morpheus felt laid bare. The Dreaming had gone white before he had taken the time to think the conversation over. Mervyn’s complaints about the various boxes of Christmas decor echoed in the halls. Lucien had come asking questions. Morpheus could not explain it and promptly shut himself away in his throne room, hesitant and brooding.

And now you had waltzed in, asking him to join the gift of snowy weather he had unconsciously prepared for you days ago, hoping you'd drop by and simultaneously dreading it.

He wished he could blame Desire for this.

“Well,” came your honeyed voice through the doors, “if you’re just that busy, apologies for bothering you! If you need me I'll be enjoying the snow day.”

And so you did. He found himself watching from a terrace. He's not sure how you managed to cajole so many of the tenants of the Dreaming into the castle gardens, but the trap was laid and set off as soon as your snow ball hit Cain.

“Hey!” cawed Matthew from a tree. “Watch it! That one was the size of my head!”

“If any of you break a window, I'm leaving you out here to freeze,” Mervyn yelled from the entrance. His sputter that came after as well as your laughter. You had quite the aim, it seemed.

Morpheus watched from afar as you brought life to the castle, dragging Lucien from her library more than her own lord. Matthew liked you and spent whatever time he could berating his sire to “ask her out already, come on, man!”

Lucien had warned him about falling too deeply. Too quickly. You were human. Special, yes, but mortal at your core. He had ruined everything with the last woman that had stolen his heart.

“Lucien you gonna stand there all day?”

Morpheus blinked, raising a brow as you stared back towards the castle, grin cheeky and puffing out clouds of breath. You had lost the coat he'd ordered his librarian to give you.

“Come on! You can join my team,” you called to her.

“We're on teams?” Abel shouted before Caine brought an entire snowman’s head down on him.

“You have your fun,” said Lucien somewhere out of Morpheus’s sight. “I must return to my duties soon.”

“Is it oh so dire?” you asked, hands on your hips as you panted.

“I do not think—”

“Well, if it's not, I don't see why you can't spend a few minutes letting off some steam!”

“I have a terrible aim, I’m afraid.”

“Not as bad as mine. Did you see how long it took me to hit everyone?” You scooped a handful of snow up from the ground, forming it. “Tell you what, if I hit you from here you’re obligated to hit me back.”

“Now, that's not—”

“1, 2, 3, go!” you sputtered, arm a flash of movement. The ball sailed far too high. Snow exploded over the lip of the railing, coating Morpheus.

Every single jaw dropped as they spotted him. Silence leveled the gardens. Every soul watching took a breath and looked from you to their ruler.

“My bad!” you shrieked as he wiped his face clean with a slow hand. “I didn’t know you were there! I’m sorry!”

“Boss,” came Matthew as he landed on the railing. “You good?”

“I am fine, Matthew,” sighed Morpheus. “It’s only snow.”

“Well, we best get going before Goldie starts missin’ us!” Cain chuckled nervously, dragging a suspiciously still Abel behind him. The others scattered much the same, leaving you rubbing your wrists and shuffling in place.

“Uh, am I in trouble?” you called up. You blinked when you found the ruler of the realm missing and sighed, head dipping in disappointment. “I swear it was an accident,” you whined to yourself, sneezing.

You nearly collapsed in fright as something fell over your shoulders. You relaxed when you found it was only your coat. Then fair-skinned hands attached sent your heart spiking a second time.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, face hot as you slid your arms through the sleeves.

“I take it you’re enjoying the weather?”

You hummed, nodding quickly, wishing his voice was as cold as his expression. The warmth of his words left your brain a mess.

“Have you?”

He tilted his head at you.

“Have you enjoyed the weather, I mean? You created it, so I assume you at least put up with it, uh.” You were rambling and worse, you realized you were rambling which led you into a spiral. “But I heard you’ve been super busy and all, so of course you wouldn’t have gotten much time! I hope you’ve been taking care of yourself and all…”

You had to take a breath and Morpheus was just listening, a gentle smile on his face that left your eyes skating the ground. Why were you acting like this?

“It has been some time, hasn’t it?” he asked.

“Like a week, maybe. I think I got a little too used to you popping into my dreams.”

“Is that so?”

God, you were being far too honest, but you dug your feet in and joked around the crippling embarrassment.

“Yeah, makes a girl lonely, but I get it. You’ve got a realm to run, people to look after.” You shrugged, raising a hand up as the snow began to trickle down in soft white fluffs. “I’ve been enjoying our chats, though. You’re very interesting, Dreamlord.”

A soft quiet rose between the two of you, his dark, looming presence blocking the chilly wind. You glanced up to find those silver eyes glinting like shooting stars. You made a wish and held it close to your heart as Morpheus leaned closer.

“May I confess something?”

Your eyes widened, a gasp stuck in your throat. “Are you angry about the snowball?”

“No." He smiled through the word and how unfair for the culmination of dreams and nightmare to have such a dazzling face to pair with it.

“Oh, okay,” you sighed, hand to your chest. “That’s good.”

“I’ve taken some time to myself as of late as you said,” he continued. You nodded as he paused, eyes earnest. Morpheus felt laid bare once more. “However, it was not because of my responsibilities to the Dreaming.”

Your lips parted, taking a breath. “Is it something I can help with?”

He hummed, fingers ghosting the sleeve of your coat. “Perhaps, depending on your answer.”

“Answer?” you mumbled, half listening now that he was so close to touching you. Was the coat weird? Was this just something he did when he spoke to people?

“If I might have the chance to court you.”

The old language went in one ear then out the other before backtracking. You stared at his hand, taking a choked gasp before raising your head to look him in the eye. He looked so effortlessly put together, long eyelashes catching snowflakes, lips rosy. And there you were, mouth agape and glasses fogging up.

“Uh, me?” you echoed, quickly cleaning your glasses to give yourself something to do and not simultaneously combust in the dream world.

“You,” he said.

“But I’m just…well,” you shrugged as you fixed your glasses back over your nose, “slightly less normal than the next mortal, I guess. And you’re…higher than a god.”

He tilted his head, brow raised. “Does it scare you?”

“The ghost that haunted my bathroom when I was eight scared me,” you admitted candidly. “You make me very very nervous. I feel like I’m more court jester than courting material.”

That pulled a real, two-second chuckle from him. You knew what winning the lottery felt like, suddenly.

“I don’t have much to offer besides what you’ve seen,” you breathed, “but I don’t want to say no.”

“Then don’t,” he murmured, cold hand finding yours and warming it with whatever magic he had coursing through his blood.

“What if you get bored?” you whispered, every hair on end as he pulled you closer. His own trailing coat of ink wrapped around you.

“The things your mind has created, the honesty you allow everyone,” he said, chest grazing yours, “it never ceases to surprise me. Boredom is the least of my worries. I fear you’ll find more problems with me.”

“I do worry about your isolation habits,” you admitted, smiling when he hummed and glanced away.

“I promise to not disappear for long periods, then.”

You pressed your nose into his neck as your hand moved to caress his locks. He closed his eyes, letting out a deep sigh.

“Come on, Morpheus. We’ll be late if we don’t get going.”

He stared at the paper in his hands. There was much work to be done, but he would not miss his son’s wedding day. Still, he lingered, standing before his desk.

“What’s bothering you, my King?”

Dream let out a soft smile at your question. You were always able to read him like an open book. It should frighten him, just how much you understood him—but it didn’t. If anything, it brought him a small comfort.

“It is because of Calliope?”

Dream tensed a bit at the mention of her name, and you felt it, your arms moving to wrap around his waist, pressing your chest gently against his back in a soothing manner.

“You have nothing to worry about, Morpheus. Calliope bears no ill will toward you. She hasn’t for a long time.”

“It’s not me I worry for.”

You let out a small scoff, unwinding your body from his. Stepping to the side, you walked to the other end of the desk. Dream watched as you moved, his gaze flitting from the papers on his desk to you. You poised yourself at the opposite end, crossing your arms.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Dream. I’m not some fragile creature.” You nudged a small ball that sat on the desk. “And Calliope doesn’t wish me anything but luck.”

“Luck?”

“Well, she of all people knows how difficult you can be.”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face at Morpheus’ disdainful look.

“Difficult, am I?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing in a way he rarely allowed.

“You are,” you said firmly, tilting your head. “But only to those who don’t know you. Me? I’ve seen the real you.”

Dream’s expression softened, a flicker of vulnerability passing over his usually stoic features. “And what do you see when you look at me now?”

You smiled, walking slowly around the desk so you were directly in front of him. “I see a father. A son. A brother. But most importantly…” You leaned in, brushing your lips against the corner of his mouth, a whisper of a kiss. “…I see my husband. My King.”

For a long moment, Dream said nothing, only letting the faintest hum of a sigh escape him. Then, finally, he reached out, fingers brushing the side of your face, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. 

“And I see my Queen,” he said softly, making you smile against his lips.

You gave him a soft kiss which he happily accepted. You pressed your forehead to his, smiling against his cool skin. 

“Now come, your son is to be wed and we shall not miss it.” You laced your fingers against his. “You cannot say no. Your Queen commands you.”

“Is that so?” 

You merely smiled at him. Dream straightened, his usual regal composure returning, though now tempered with a quiet warmth.

“Lead the way,” he murmured. And together, hand in hand, despairing in a mist of sand. 

You and Dream had been the first to arrive, followed moments later by Calliope. You exchanged cheerful greetings; it was meant to be a happy day, and no matter their history, Calliope and Morpheus both loved their son dearly, so they would make the effort to remain civil—for Orpheus’ sake.

Once the young man saw you, his mouth opened into a bright smile. He ran over, giving his mother an embrace before turning to you. You returned his smile, opening your arms to him. He accepted the hug; you may not have been related by blood, but you always treated him as one of your own, and Orpheus had always seen you as family. There were no grievances between you, and you were glad for it.

Orpheus did not hug his father, and although you wished Morpheus would embrace his child, you knew it was not his custom, and you could not force him to do so.

“Have the rest of the family arrived, Orpheus?”

“Oh, I’m not sure. I’ve only seen Aunt Teleute.”

You relaxed at the news. Death had always been the easiest of the Endless siblings to get along with. You were glad she was here; if anything, her presence gave you a reason to excuse yourself. You placed a kiss on Morpheus’ cheek, bidding him a silent goodbye. You wanted to give the family a moment alone. You could sense Orpheus was nervous, and you hoped Dream would help calm him.

You wandered along the marvelous stone pillars until you found the bride-to-be, accompanied by none other than Death. You approached the two women, smiling as you made your way to them.

“Why, Eurydice, how beautiful you are. I am Morpheus’ wife—it’s a pleasure to meet you, dear. Orpheus speaks highly of you.”

“Thank you, my lady. The honor is mine.”

You gave the young girl a tender smile, tugging her into a short embrace before turning to Death. You wasted no time with greetings, giving Death a strong hug.

“It’s good to see you, Teleute.”

“Always a pleasure.”

You noticed Eurydice glancing around. You gave Death a knowing look.

“Nervous, dear?”

Eurydice flushed a bit at your question, embarrassed.

“I must admit I am a bit… wary,” she confessed. “It’s not that I don’t love Orpheus—I do, very much actually. It’s just that… well…” She trailed off, suddenly self-conscious.

“It’s perfectly normal to be nervous, my dear.”

You leaned in closer, speaking low so only Eurydice could hear your words.

“The day I married Morpheus, I almost fainted.”

Eurydice’s eyes widened.

“Really?”

“It’s true. I was there. We had to keep fanning her until she was standing at the altar.”

You and Death laughed at the memory. You couldn’t help but smile, remembering the day you’d finally married the love of your life. You let out a small sigh, moving to grab Eurydice’s hands.

“Love is an odd thing. It makes you feel desperate and afraid, but it also makes you feel wonder and hope. Orpheus is a good man. He’ll make a fine husband. And I know it’s nerve-wracking finding yourself inserted into his crazy family, but something I’ve learned over the years… they’re not as bad as they seem.”

As if summoned by your words, Orpheus appeared, running to Eurydice. They shared a soft kiss, foreheads resting together for a moment.

You felt someone standing beside you and glanced up at Morpheus. You smiled at him, allowing your hand to slip into his.

“How did it go?” you whispered.

Morpheus watched Orpheus and Eurydice for a while before turning to look at you.

“He really loves her.”

You smiled. “So does she.”

You leaned against Morpheus’ shoulder, savoring his proximity.

“Ah, young love. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Morpheus placed a kiss atop your hair, which surprised you.

“What was that for?”

Morpheus gave you a rare smile. “Just for being you. For being with me, through it all.”

The ceremony was beautiful. All of Dream's siblings came and all though he did not show it you knew he was glad for their presence. As the couple shared their vows Dream’s hand tightened around yours, almost protectively, and for a moment, you were aware of the contrast between him and the human world around you—the calm certainty of Dream and the trembling anticipation of Orpheus. And yet… they were alike in one way: both hearts beating a little faster than usual because of someone they loved.

Dream’s hand in yours was warm, strong, grounding. You could feel the tension in him, the faint pull of the responsibility he always carried with him. But in that moment he was present, fully here, for his child, and it made your chest ache with love for him.

When Orpheus slipped the ring onto Eurydice’s finger, you caught a glimmer of a smile on Dream’s face. It was fleeting, subtle, but it was there—just for you to see. You squeezed his hand, letting him know silently that you noticed. 

The reception that followed was filled with laughter, music, and warmth. You noticed the Endless siblings mingling in their own peculiar ways—Death gently teasing a few mortal relatives, Delirium flitting through the crowd in her chaotic delight, Destiny observing with quiet approval—but always circling back to Dream, who sat at the edge of the ceremony. A quiet shadow hidden from sight. But you saw him.

You always did. 

Later, as the newlyweds shared their first dance, you found a quiet moment with Dream near one of the pillars. The lights shimmered like starlight across the stone floor, casting a soft glow around the two of you. You settled beside him, watching Orpheus and Eurydice dance.

“He hates it.”

You turned to face Dream.

“What does he hate?”

“Dancing.”

“Like father, like son.”

Morpheus turned to look at you, his eyes catching the longing way you glanced at the dancing couples.

“And yet he still does it anyway.”

You turned to him.

“Of course he does, Morpheus. He loves her. He wants to make her happy.”

You said the words as if they were obvious, as if thinking anything else were impossible. It was then that Dream realized just how different you were from him. You had given up your mortality when you married him, and even though years had passed since then, you still held a knowledge of mortals that Dream often forgot. You knew how they felt because you had been one. And you had given all that up—for him.

He rose from his seat, standing before you. You gazed up at him questioningly. He placed his hand out to you.

“May I have this dance, my Queen?”

Your lips parted in soft surprise. He loathed dancing. You knew just how much he despised it. And so, even though you had always adored dancing, you never asked Morpheus to join you, opting instead to observe. But here he was, offering you the one thing he knew you wanted despite his hatred for it.

It was such a simple act, yet it held so much behind it. You took his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet. Dream guided you to the floor, earning a few curious glances. But when the music started, and Dream’s hand moved to wrap around your body, the only person you could see was him.

The music swirled around you, soft and ethereal, as Dream’s hand rested gently on your waist. Your other hand found his, fingers intertwining naturally. You felt the faintest tension in him at first—the stiffness of someone unused to such vulnerability—but as he guided you across the floor, it softened.

“You’re… surprisingly graceful,” he murmured, his voice low, almost uncertain.

You smiled, tilting your head to meet his gaze. “So are you, when you want to be,” you teased lightly. “Though you might not admit it.”

Dream allowed a quiet hum of amusement to escape him. “I do not dance often,” he said, voice soft, “but I… wished to be with you. To give you this moment.”

The words made your chest tighten. His rare vulnerability, his willingness to step out of his comfort for you… it made your heart ache in the best possible way.

You leaned into him, resting your forehead against his chest. 

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Dream’s hand moved to cradle the back of your head gently, his thumb brushing a strand of hair from your face.

The two of you moved together as if the world had narrowed to just this floor, just this moment. All the formalities, all the watchers, all the Endless duties—they vanished, leaving only the warmth of his hand in yours, the slow rhythm of the music, and the quiet certainty of being together. 

“Father?”

Orpheus’ voice broke through the little bubble you and Dream had found yourselves in. You turned to look at him, still clinging to Eurydice, for a moment before glancing back at Dream.

Morpheus’ eyes moved slowly over his son’s features. He stepped away from you softly, giving you space. Eurydice released Orpheus as Dream approached him. The two of you watched as father and son met halfway, standing in silence for a moment.

And then, to your surprise, Morpheus reached out, pulling Orpheus into a loving embrace. Your hand moved to clutch at your heart, the sight before you stirring deep emotion.

Morpheus pulled back just enough to look down at his son with pride. He pressed a gentle kiss to Orpheus’ temple before speaking.

“I am very proud of you, son.”

“Thank you, Father.”

Morpheus opened his mouth, paused for a moment, and then seemed to make up his mind.

“I love you, my son.”

You could see the brief surprise on Orpheus’ face at the words, quickly replaced by pure joy. He clung to his father, giving in to a fierce hug.

“I love you too, Father.”

And when Dream’s eyes found yours in the crowd, you saw his lips move softly to form the words, “I love you.” You responded with a quiet, “Forevermore,” causing him to give you a small, rare smile.

Because there, in the crowd, hid a being with powers you could not imagine.

And their eyes? Well, they were glued to you.

Your lips curled into a smirk as you swept your feathered fans across your body, teasing, hiding, revealing. The crowd roared, but Desire only tilted their head, drinking you in with a hunger that had nothing to do with applause.

Their eyes zeroed in on you, raking over your body as you continued your performance. When you blew a kiss to the crowd—sending a rush of longing through one of the patrons—their lips curved into a Cheshire grin. You were an absolute marvel, commanding the stage with an ease that surely had taken years to master. And yet, you didn’t seem at all fazed by the control you held over the room.

Desire felt their power growing with every one of your movements, their body humming with the energy you fed them. They had never had much trouble harnessing power from their places of worship, but this—this was different. Stronger. More intoxicating than they were used to.

And then your gaze fell on them for the first time, lips parting as your tongue swept lazily across them, and Desire just knew they had to have you.

Desire sat perfectly still among the restless crowd, but they might as well have been the only one in the room. For a moment, you swore the world dimmed around them, as if the spotlight bent in their favor. A stranger, yes—but one impossible to ignore.

You tried to shake it off, tried to redirect your attention to the other faces crying out for you, but your body betrayed you. Every time your hips swayed, every flick of your feathered fans, you felt them watching, pulling, drinking you in as though the entire performance existed for their pleasure alone.

And the funny thing was—you didn’t mind the attention one bit. In fact, you found yourself craving it. Heat flushed through your body, and all of a sudden you were short of breath. You knew it had nothing to do with the warmth radiating from the stage lights or with the way you were moving. No—your body was being filled with a rush of unfiltered desire, and you welcomed it, feeding off the sensation and using it to fuel your movements.

When the lights dimmed and the music ended, the usual roar of the crowd sounded louder, more ravenous. And your heart? It was beating a mile a minute.

You smiled as you made your way to your dressing room, joyful because of the impact you had on the crowd and glad to finally have a moment to yourself. Preforming took a lot out of you and even though you loved it there was only so much a girl could take. 

The echo of music still hummed in your veins as you slipped into your dressing room, tossing your fans aside and leaning against the vanity. You barely had time to catch your breath before you noticed the flowers. A lush bouquet, scarlet and gold, already waiting on the counter where there had been nothing moments ago.

And then, a voice—smooth, velvet, intoxicating.

“Exquisite.”

You turned.

They were already there. The stranger in the crowd. Reclining in your chair as though they had always belonged in your space. 

In another circumstance, you would’ve told them this was a space reserved only for the performer. But something about them—the energy that surrounded them, the effortless way they carried themselves—told you they belonged here just as much as you did. So, you chose to stay silent.

The stranger rose, moving toward you with a predatory grace, the kind of beauty that wasn’t human at all. Their smile was sharp and indulgent, eyes raking over you in a way that made you feel both devoured and exalted.

“I came here for a performance,” they purred, lifting one of the flowers from the bouquet and twirling it lazily between elegant fingers. “But I didn’t expect to find such beauty.”

Your lips parted, some reply trembling on your tongue, but Desire closed the distance before you could speak.

“You have no idea how you stir them,” they murmured, the faintest brush of the flower’s petals grazing your cheek, your collarbone. “The way they look at you… ache for you. You bask in it, don’t you?”

Their breath was warm against your ear as they leaned closer, their voice dropping into something low, irresistible.

“Tell me, little star. Do you bask only in their worship? Or do you crave more?”

Your entire body shivered at the question and Desire's grin just grew wider. You didn;t need to answer with words they could read you like an open book. And then their mouth was on yours—hungry, commanding, tasting of something richer than you’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting.

Their kiss swallowed your breath whole, lips parting against yours in a demand rather than a request. Their hands slid into your hair, tugging just hard enough to draw a gasp from you. They smiled against your mouth, savoring the sound before pressing you back against the vanity. You panted as their lips moved to your neck, sucking at the skin there.

“Wh—uh—what do I call you?”

Their golden eyes shone at your question, pulling away from your neck just enough to whisper against your ear.

“Desire, my dear.”

They nibbled at your earlobe, and you groaned, your hand flying to grasp their shoulder. Your nails dug into their flesh as they continued to trail hungry kisses along your skin. Your body leaned into them without thought, craving more of the heat and the danger in their touch. Their hands slid along your arms, tracing invisible patterns that set your nerves alight, and you couldn’t stop the soft whimper that escaped your throat.

Your fingers tangled in their hair as they deepened the kisses along your neck, teasing, marking, claiming. Every gasp, every arch of your back, seemed to fuel them further, drawing a low, hungry sound from their throat that made your own pulse spike.

“So beautiful,” they murmured, inhaling as though savoring you like perfume. “Do you have any idea what you do to me, little star?” 

With a flick of their fingers, the delicate fabric of your costume fell open as if it had always been waiting to be undone. You barely had time to gasp before their mouth was on you again, trailing down your throat, teeth scraping lightly over your pulse.

Desire sank to their knees before you, eyes gleaming with something primal and satisfied. They pressed their lips to the inside of your thigh, slow, teasing. The sight of them between your legs, face inches from your pussy made you bite into your lip. And when they leaned forward, tongue poking out to lick at your folds your eyes rolled back into your head. 

Your knees nearly gave out, but their hands clamped around your thighs, holding you wide open for them. They licked you with unhurried precision, savoring every shiver, every moan you couldn’t bite back. Desire knew just how to get you flustered and before you knew it your thighs were shaking against their head, hand moving to grip their shoulders roughly as your hips bucked forward. You came with a gasp and Desire couldn’t help but smile into your cunt, their longue continuing to lap at your juices.

“You taste so sweet, my dear.”

Your fingers tangled in their hair, tugging them closer, desperate for more even as your body still quivered from the last wave of pleasure. They smiled against you, golden eyes glinting with triumph, savoring the taste of you, your scent, your surrender.  

“I’ve never… felt like this,” you gasped, your voice shaking, heat blazing through every nerve.

Desire’s hands tightened slightly, pulling you flush against them. “And you never will feel like this with anyone else,” they murmured, their tone possessive, almost reverent, as they continued their slow, teasing exploration, making every shiver, every moan, a testament to their hunger for you.

“I—I want more,” you breathed, desperation lacing your words.

Desire bit into your thigh, smiling at the whine that escaped you.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?”

They rose, lips glistening, and kissed you again, letting you taste yourself on their tongue. In one seamless motion, they lifted you onto the vanity, spreading you wide beneath the harsh, holy glow of the lights. 

“Now,” they purred, sliding between your thighs, their own hunger pressed hard against you. “Now you’ll see what it means to be chosen.”

The first thrust stole your breath, deep and claiming. Your nails raked across their back, pulling them closer as they drove into you again, and again, setting a rhythm that was both punishing and impossibly tender.

Desire kissed you like they owned you, like they’d been waiting for this moment since the first note you sang. Your lipstick smeared against their mouth as their hand slid under your costume, tugging sharply until it slipped from your shoulders. Their hands moved to caress your breasts, fingers gliding over the soft skin for a moment before giving a rough squeeze. You clenched around them, a squeal leaving your lips. 

“Such pretty sounds,” they said, pulling back just long enough to slap your pussy lightly, making you jolt. “Sing for me again.”

They punctuated the command with a rough thrust causing you to gasp out a moan. Their grin sharpened, leaning back just enough to admire you, golden eyes glittering as you panted for air.

“Please, I—” you gasped, voice trembling, desperate, but Desire silenced you with a sharp, possessive kiss that stole your words and left only heat in their wake. 

Every thrust was sharp, fast, devastating. You clawed at their back, begged incoherently, but Desire only laughed—a low, delighted sound.They shifted, pulling one of your legs up over their shoulder, the new angle brutal as they pounded into you. Sweat and lipstick smeared as you kissed, your voice breaking with every thrust. You came again, convulsing around them, and Desire moaned, dragging it out, fucking you through it until tears streaked your cheeks. 

When they finally finished, spilling inside you with a guttural sound, they didn’t let go. They fucked you slower, deeper, as if branding you from the inside. Then they pulled out just enough to watch their spend drip down your thighs, smirking as they caught it on their fingers and pushed it back into you.

“Messy little thing,” they murmured, bringing their slick fingers to your lips. “Taste us. Be a good girl.”

You obeyed, dazed and trembling, sucking their fingers clean while they watched with rapture.

Desire leaned in, kissing you one last time—deep, filthy, claiming.

“Remember this,” they whispered against your mouth. “You begged for me. You broke for me. And now, every time you step on that stage, you’ll know you belong to me.”

You let out a small laugh, causing Desire to pull back and stare at you, head slightly tilted. Your mouth curved into a lazy smirk.

“What are you smirking at, little star?”

You placed a hand on their cheek, gazing at them with heavy, lustful eyes.

“It’s just funny.”

“What is?”

“You thinking that I’d ever belonged to anyone other than you.”

Desire gave you a wolfish grin, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. You inched forward for one last kiss, and Desire accepted you willingly. When they pulled away, arranging their clothes and leaning over your body to glance in the mirror, you couldn’t help but watch their every move.

You remained seated on the vanity as they made their way to the door. They paused just a step away from the handle, turning their head back to look at you. You leaned against your palms, body still on full display for them, not an inch of embarrassment in sight.

“I’ll be back, my dear.”

You gave them a smile.

Your body buzzed with the noise around you, moving along with the beat of the song that was playing. Lights flashed, filling your vision with a swirl of colors. You enjoyed this party scene. It was the only thing you knew would always be here—and at the same time, the only experience that changed every night.

People never acted the same, they were unpredictable with all the alcohol in their system. Maybe that was why you kept coming back. The uncertainty was refreshing—a sharp contrast to the dull and monotonous days. 

You swayed with the bodies around you, and when someone tugged you into their arms, you let them hold you for a moment, savoring the warmth. When another pressed their lips to yours, you let them steal a kiss.

Their lives were too short, they needed to enjoy them while they could, and you were more than willing to help them have a good time. You smiled as someone latched onto your neck, tilting your head back so they could place kisses as they pleased. 

You knew about other beings like you—well, not exactly like you, but who shared your endless time on Earth. You knew Death had siblings, she had told you so in one of her many passings. You had been greeted by Desire and Delirium enough times to know what to expect.

But he still surprised you. Not him, exactly, but the presence he carried. You felt the shift in the air the moment your eyes fell on him. You could sense the power surrounding him, and you couldn’t help but be hypnotized by him—his dark hair, defined cheekbones, the way he seemed to command the space around him. He looked so out of place here, in his black coat and brooding expression. When his eyes locked onto yours, it felt as if the air had been sucked from your lungs.

Morpheus found you in the crowd, recognizing you instantly—one of his sister's experiments. But that wasn’t all you were. There was something magnetic about you, as if he were destined to find you here. He had not come by chance. He was searching for something, something important.

But the moment his eyes landed on you, the only thing that seemed to matter was reaching you. He made his way through the crowd slowly, people parting for him as if sensing his command. You had a harder time, your body being tugged at by those around you, their desire for you making them desperate. Normally, you’d let them have their fill—but not now. Not when he was here, just out of reach.

You pushed through the throng, forcefully tugging mortals’ hands from your body as you went. Morpheus had stopped at a small clearing, watching as you clawed your way to him. You stumbled at the last second, body launching into his before you could find your footing. His hands remained as his side as you clung onto his coat, using it to steady yourself. 

You raised your head to look at his face. His eyes shone as they bore into yours, revealing a galaxy of stars hidden within them. The world around you seemed to fade. The music dulled against your senses, the lights slowed to a crawl. It was only you and him. Him and you.

He tilted his head slightly, and before you could even think, you pressed your lips to his. You expected him to push you away, to scold you for your boldness. But he didn’t. His hands, which had remained still until now, latched onto your hips with a desperate intensity. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you deepened the kiss.

Your entire body buzzed with the feeling of him. His lips were sweeter than you had expected, and the desperation in his kiss caught you off guard. He seemed put together, a man who longed for nothing. But the way he kissed you revealed just how starved he truly was.

Your hands tangled in his hair, making him let out a soft groan. You broke the kiss, taking the opportunity to press your mouth to his neck, teasing the soft skin with your tongue. He didn’t let you have your fun for long, though—his hands yanked at your hair, pulling you back into a bruising, all-consuming kiss. You smiled into it, savoring his desire for you.

Then something shifted. His lips stilled against yours, his grip loosening. You moved forward to capture his mouth again, but he evaded your kiss. Opening your eyes, you looked at him with a confused expression. Morpheus’ brows were slightly furrowed.

“What is it?” you asked.

He observed you for a moment, his eyes shining with what you could only call recognition. Then his gaze hardened, and a rush of fear ran down your spine.

“A distraction.”

“What?”

He tugged your hands from his coat and stepped back.

“They wish to derail me from my search,” he grimaced. “They will not succeed.”

You reached to pull him back to you, but he was already beginning to disappear. You called out his name just as the sand enveloped him completely. You stared at the spot where he had been, feeling hollow all of a sudden. You tried to take a deep breath, but the air caught in your throat. Racing through the crowd, you pushed suitors away as you went. 

You needed to get the hell out of this club.

Morpheus couldn’t seem to get you out of his mind. Every shadow seemed to echo the curve of your lips, every flicker of light reminded him of the way your eyes had burned with recognition and curiosity. You were not meant to be part of his search, and yet, you haunted his every thought. 

Desire. Surely it had been Desire. Only one of his siblings would have the audacity to place someone like you in his path, a distraction meant to derail him. The thought infuriated him. He had no time for distractions, yet the memory of your touch, the taste of your lips, the warmth of your body against his—he could not push it away.

He pursued his search with relentless precision, cutting through illusions and traps, until at last he reached its end. The object of his quest lay before him, completed. And yet, he found his mind drifting to thoughts of you. There was only one way to know for sure—he would have to speak with his dear sibling.

He did not waste time summoning them. He strode into Desire's domain, barely containing his anger. Desire lay comfortably in a leather chair, seemingly unthreatened by Dream’s presence.

“Brother! What a wonderful surprise,” they said, a Cheshire grin spreading across their face, which only made Dream’s anger flare further.

“You brought her to me,” he said, his voice low and controlled, the shadow of his rage barely contained.

Desire disentangled themselves from the chair and approached him. The grin deepened as they spoke.

“Now why would I do such a thing, brother dear?” they purred.

“Careful, sibling,” Dream warned, his gaze narrowing.

Desire smirked, the usual teasing glint in their eyes. “I didn’t put anyone up to anything, brother,” they said, tilting their head. “If you felt something for her, it was of your own accord. No one forced you.”

Dream’s gaze hardened, the weight of his longing pressing in on him. It was difficult to discern when Desire was being truthful and when they were not. Their words were teasing, infuriating—but something told him this was the most honest his sibling had ever been.

He had chosen this.

You had chosen him.

You stood by the window, eyes following the rapid drops of rain. Normally, after a trip to the club, you would arrive home, body buzzing with exhilaration, and collapse onto your bed.

Not tonight.

Your heart raced just as much as your mind. You could still smell him. Still taste him. Still remember the rush of energy that had coursed through your body when he kissed you. You had felt alive—more alive than you had in decades.

And then it was gone, ripped away from you, leaving you feeling like a hollow shell of yourself.

You felt him before you saw him. His presence seemed to steal all the air from the room. You turned your head to the corner of the room, your pulse spiked the instant your eyes fell on him. 

“You're here.” 

It wasn't a question. You knew he was here. Even as he lingered hidden in the shadows you knew he was real. He stepped forward, allowing the light to reach him. Your eyes moved over his features, trying to memorize each one. 

“I couldn’t stay away,” he murmured, stepping closer.

His dark coat trailed behind him, but it did nothing to hide the intensity in his eyes, the hunger in his gaze. You stood still, allowing him to make his way to you this time. Once he was close enough his hand reached out. He cupped your face, tilting your chin up. You stared into his starry eyes, lips parting as you gazed at him. 

And then his lips found yours, slow at first, teasing, testing—but with that unmistakable hunger beneath it, the same desperate need that had driven him before.

Your fingers fumbled at his coat, tugging him closer, wanting every inch of him. He groaned low, a sound that vibrated through you as his hands roamed your back, pulling you flush against him. The kiss deepened, teeth grazing lips, tongues tangling, and the world outside ceased to exist. 

You bit into his lips, eager to see how he’d react. He let out a sound of pure hunger and lifted you effortlessly, setting you down on the edge of the bed. You leaned on your elbows, taking in his frame as he towered above you.

His hands moved in a fluid, almost hypnotic motion through the air, and you struggled to understand what he was doing—until you looked down and realized that both of you were no longer clothed. A smile spread across your face despite yourself.

“Neat trick,” you murmured.

Morpheus gave you a smirk that made your pulse quicken.

“Oh, I’m just staring, darling,” he replied, voice low and teasing.

Your knees bent instinctively as he hovered over you, every part of you alive, every sense consumed by him. You knew this night would be unforgettable. Dream’s hands trailed along your shoulders, down your arms, brushing over every curve with a meticulous, deliberate attention—as if he could memorize the shape of you in a single touch. His voice, low and certain, broke the taut silence.

“Do you understand what it means to be in my presence?” he asked, tilting his head. “To be seen by me?”

You shivered, words failing you. He didn’t wait for an answer. His lips found yours again, firm and demanding, yet controlled.  His hands roamed over your body, memorizing and marking, while his gaze never left yours. 

“You’re mine tonight,” he said, voice low and commanding, sending a thrill down your spine.

You gasped softly, letting the heat of his words wash over you. The way he spoke, so certain, so unyielding, sent shivers along your spine. Your hands instinctively found their way into his hair, tugging him closer, desperate to keep the contact alive.  

“Morpheus.”

His eyes snapped up at your breathy sigh of his name, eyes finding your flushed face, eyes darkened by your desire for him. He watched you,his  hands roamed with ownership, sliding along your sides, squeezing.

“Please.”

He growled low in his throat, tilting his head to capture your lips again, this time a slow, dragging kiss that left you trembling, burning, wanting. His hands teased your thighs, sliding closer. When his fingers finally made their way past you folds you gasped against him, back arching at the action. His teeth grazed your neck as he continued to curl his fingers inside you. 

“You’re mine,” he whispered again, voice heavy with desire, his eyes dark and endless.

“Mor… please,” you moaned, your body trembling, desperate for more, for all of him.

He should have been able to control himself but it seemed that when it came to you he had none. So when you asked for him he gave himself up to you. Your mouth opened in a soundless moan as he inched his dick inside. He leaned his forehead against yours. 

“Do you feel that?” he murmured against your lips, voice low and throaty. “The way I burn for you?”

“Yes,” you gasped, nails digging into the planes of his back. “I… I feel it.”

HIs hips snapped forward in a steady motion, a groan leaving his lips. You wrapped your legs around him, hands clawing into him as he continued to rock into you. The friction between you was exquisite, each movement a spark igniting every nerve in your body. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, mingling with his low, desperate groans as he set a punishing rhythm, one that left no room for anything but the two of you.

“Mor… I—oh—” Your words dissolved into moans, each one spurring him on, making him fuck into you harder, faster, with an insatiable need.

His hands gripped your hips, holding you tight as he buried himself deeper, the intensity of every thrust sending tremors through your body. You gasped, your nails raking down his back, feeling the taut muscles flex beneath your fingers. He kissed you with a hungry, almost feral intensity. Tongues tangled, teeth grazed. 

“Don’t stop,” you whispered, voice trembling. “Please… don’t stop.”

He groaned deep in his chest, voice vibrating through you.

“I could never… not with you,” he confessed, and the words were a shiver down your spine, hotter than any touch.

His pace quickened, each movement urgent and unrelenting. Every kiss, every thrust, every whispered confession drew you closer to the edge. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, mingling with his groans, the sound of skin against skin filling the space between you.

“Mor… I’m—” you gasped, pleasure coiling tight in your belly, “I’m—”

He captured your mouth, cutting off your words with a searing kiss, his thrusts relentless, building, until every nerve in your body was alight, every inch of you trembling under the force of him. And then, with a growl that shook his very soul, he tipped you over the edge with him, a shattering, all-consuming release that left both of you gasping, clinging to each other, your bodies slick in the aftermath.

He held you close, forehead against yours, breath mingling with yours, both of you panting, but neither able—or willing—to let go.

“You belong to me,” he whispered again, pressing a lingering kiss against the shell of your ear. “And I… belong to you.”

The words made your pulse race, and yet, beneath the heat and desire, there was a raw vulnerability you hadn’t expected. Morpheus, the unyielding, endless Dream, who had walked through centuries and worlds untouched, was offering himself up to you.

For a moment, the room was silent except for your mingled breaths and the faint patter of rain against the window. 

Morpheus’ lips brushed yours again, softer this time, lingering in a kiss that was full of quiet promises. 

“Stay with me,” he murmured against your mouth, each word heavy with longing.

You shivered, pressing closer, the warmth of him a balm after the intensity.

 “I want that,” you whispered, letting the vulnerability slip in, letting him see it. “I want you.”

He hummed, a soft, satisfied sound, and pressed a lingering kiss to your temple.

“Then you shall have me,” he said, voice dark and intimate, as if promising eternity. “Not just tonight… but every moment you allow me to be near.” 

You had expected Dream to call for his sister in her domain, asking for entry so that he could escort you to her, but it seemed you’d been wrong. You hadn’t quite understood why Dream could not summon her in the usual way. You had thought they’d patched things up, but you weren’t really in a position to question Lord Morpheus. So when he told you you’d have to enter Delirium’s realm in a more… chaotic manner, you had simply nodded in understanding.

You had not been prepared for just how odd the entrance to Delirium’s realm would be. Perhaps you should have been, considering the madness Delirium was in charge of, but it had surprised you all the same.

The sight of overgrown plants and multicolored mushrooms was a welcome contrast to the chaos you’d just waded through. You took a deep breath, savoring the calm for a moment.

“Hello.”

Your eyes snapped open at the sound, searching for the owner of the voice. There, at your feet, sat a dog. Your brows raised in amusement. You were used to talking animals—Dream’s ravens had always spoken—but you hadn’t stopped to think that Destruction’s companion would too. A slight error on your part, but still.

“Hello there. You must be Barnabas.”

“I am. Who are you?”

“Lord Morpheus sent me. I’m supposed to…”

Your voice trailed off as your eyes drifted past Barnabas. There was a bit of movement between the trees. A flash of neon green and orange caught your attention, and your lips curled into a small smile.

“Hello, Delirium!” you called out.

Her head poked out from behind the tree at your greeting. She seemed somewhat unsure of your presence.

“Is he angry with me?”

You could practically hear the pout in her words.

“That’s why he sent you, isn’t it?”

You couldn’t hold in the chuckle that slipped from your lips. Reaching down, you patted Barnabas on the head as you walked past him, slowly making your way to Delirium’s hiding spot. When you reached the tree, you peeked behind it and found her sitting in a cluster of radiant mushrooms.

You crouched beside her for a moment before deciding to sit cross-legged at her side. Your gaze wandered over the glowing mushrooms and the streaks of impossible color dripping through the trees as your hands picked at the grass.

“Your realm is very pretty. Different from the Dreaming, but charming in its own way.”

Delirium tilted her head, mismatched eyes finally meeting yours. Her lips curved into a small frown, brows furrowing in recognition.

“You’re changing the subject.”

You chuckled lightly. “Am I?”

“Yes,” she insisted, eyes darting between you and Barnabas, who had settled a few paces away. “I asked if he was angry with me. That’s important.”

“I didn’t mean to change the subject, Delirium.” You turned to look at her, offering a soft smile. “But to answer your question—no, Dream isn’t angry with you.”

You leaned back on your hands, careful not to disturb the glowing mushrooms beneath you.

“If anything, he thought you might want… someone to sit with for a while.”

Delirium blinked at you. For a long moment she seemed puzzled, lips parting as if she were trying to catch the right word.

“…You mean a friend?” she asked at last, tilting her head so far that a few neon strands of hair tumbled into her face.

The question was genuine, but it carried the hesitance of someone who didn’t quite understand what she was allowed to ask for.

The childlike earnestness in her voice made your chest ache. You found yourself studying her—this youngest of the Endless, all chaos and color, but folded small among glowing mushrooms like a lost child. And in that instant, you understood why Dream had asked you to be here.

“Yes,” you said softly. “If you’d like one.”

Delirium went quiet again, her eyes darting away as though she were watching something only she could see. Her fingers plucked idly at the glowing caps of the mushrooms around her before she stilled, head tilting to the side.

“Do… friends stay longer than siblings?” she asked suddenly.

Her voice was soft, but the words carried a strange weight, as if she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer.

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “What do you mean?”

She scrunched her nose, mismatched eyes narrowing in thought. “Siblings… drift. Or fight. Or forget. Sometimes they leave. But… friends? Do they… stay around? More?”

The innocence of it made your heart twist. For all her power, Delirium sounded so small. You hesitated, then gave her the gentlest smile you could muster.

“Well,” you said slowly, “you don’t really get to choose your siblings. But you can pick your friends. And the good ones… yes. They stay.”

Delirium blinked at you again, expression unreadable for a moment. Then her lips curved into a sudden, almost mischievous grin.

“I think I’d like to be a friend, then,” she declared, as though it were the simplest truth in the world. “You’re quite nice. Nicer than Dream. Or… nicer than he used to be. He’s gotten much better lately.” Her brows furrowed. “He still frightens me, though.”

You smiled softly at her. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Delirium tilted her head, curiosity flickering in her mismatched eyes.

“Sometimes… he scares me too,” you admitted quietly.

For a moment, she seemed to absorb that, her eyes widening slightly. Then a slow, bright smile spread across her face, lighting up her whole expression. She sprang up from the ground, giving a small twirl and trampling a few mushrooms as she did. Once she stopped spinning, she glanced down at you.

“Oh, I think I’ll like you very much! You’re a good friend!”

You gave her a bright smile. Then her eyes seemed to catch on the mushrooms she’d harmed in her joy, and a small frown graced her features.

“Oh…”

You got up from the ground, a hand moving to her shoulder. Delirium’s eyes snapped to yours.

“It’s okay. You didn’t mean to.”

“I do that a lot.”

“Do what?”

“Hurt things without meaning to.”

Your heart ached a bit at her words. This poor girl carrying so much on her shoulders. You knew she was much older than you, having been around for a long time, but you still felt protective of her. You felt the need to reassure her, so you gave her shoulder a soft squeeze.

“It’s alright. Everyone makes mistakes. The important thing is to learn from them.”

Delirium stared at you for a moment before giving you a shy smile.

“You’re very wise.”

You laughed. “Not always, but thank you for saying so.”

Delirium blinked at you for a moment, the idea settling slowly into her mind. Then, as though a small, fragile door had opened inside her, she let out a soft, delighted laugh.

“A friend…” she repeated. “I think… I’d like that very much.” 

Before you could answer she let out a small gasp, her hand moving to grab onto yours.

“There is so much to show you!”

With a joyful sound, she spun around and began to move in a random direction. You went to follow her, just as she paused, staring into space for a second before choosing another path. She seemed to have settled on her destination, turning to look back at you.

“Are you coming?”

“Lead the way!”

Delirium grinned at you before continuing on her path. You observed her for a moment before following. Barnabas walked beside you, and you took it as an opportunity to ask,

“Is she always like this?”

Barnabas glanced up at you as he continued to walk.

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

The rest of the day passed in a swirl of colors and laughter. You wandered through Delirium’s realm together, watching as she coaxed strange, wonderful things from the air around her—tiny glowing orbs that floated like fireflies, ribbons of light that twisted into miniature creatures, and plants that hummed when she touched them. Every new creation seemed to carry a piece of her chaotic joy, and you found yourself smiling more than you had in a long while.

Sometimes she would pause mid-step, gaze wandering off into the distance, then shake her head and laugh before pulling you along again. Barnabas padded quietly beside you, ever watchful, his dark eyes glinting with amusement.

Eventually, the energy of the day caught up with her. She slowed, her movements becoming languid, and you led her to a quiet spot by a sundial, its shadow stretching long in the shifting colors of her realm. She sank down onto the soft grass beside it with a small sigh, letting her hair tumble in a cascade of orange.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Then, as though testing the waters, she said softly, “Sometimes… I feel like my siblings don’t really… see me. Like I’m too small. Or too messy. Or too… me.”

You glanced at her, your heart tightening at the vulnerability behind her words. The playful, chaotic energy of the day had softened, leaving a fragile honesty in its wake.

“I wasn’t always like this, you know.” She let out a small grimace. “I used to be Delight, but I…”

The words seemed to escape her for a moment, something you noticed happened quite frequently. It wasn’t that she didn’t know how to express what she felt, but that the words to do so often slipped away from her mind. 

When she started to speak again, you could see you were no longer talking to her whimsical self, but to the version of her that felt fear, pain, and dread. The version consumed by random surges of anger and sadness.

“The world is cruel.”

It was an affirmation, practically spat from her red-tinged lips. Her sadness seemed to seep into you like an oil spill. You felt your lips turn into a frown, but the despair was not yours—it belonged to Delirium and was simply spilling onto you due to your proximity.

It was then that you realized just how strong Dream’s little sister truly was. Before you could think further, your hand moved to wrap around her shoulders, tugging her gently into your body. She let out a small sound of surprise, unused to such an expression of tenderness.

You held her for a long while, and slowly the weight in your chest seemed to ease, allowing you to breathe easier. The gloom that had begun to consume Delirium seemed to slip away as you embraced her.

“Thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You listened. And you cared. And you didn’t make fun of me.”

You pulled her slightly away from your body so you could look her in the eyes. You gave her a fierce look, trying to transmit in your gaze just how serious you were about your next words.

“I will never make fun of you. Never. You hear me?”

Delirium’s lips quivered at your words, a single tear slipping from her eyes. You brushed it away with your thumb before placing a soft kiss on her temple.

You held her gaze for a moment, then spoke softly, trying to shift the heaviness in the air. 

“You know what helps me when I’m angry or sad?”

Delirium blinked at you, curiosity flickering.

“I… like to scream. Really loud. Have you ever tried?”

Her mismatched eyes widened. “Scream?”

“Yeah,” you said with a small grin. “It’s silly, but it works. Want to try?”

She tilted her head, thinking for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Okay.”

And so you did.

The two of you raised your voices, letting the sound tear through the stillness of her realm. Words became nothing but bursts of air, laughter and cries tangled together, echoing off the trees and mushrooms. You yelled until your throats were raw and your bodies sagged with exhaustion.

Finally, both of you collapsed onto the soft ground, breathing heavily, hearts still pounding. You turned to look at her, and in that moment, Delirium’s entire face lit up with the brightest, most radiant smile you had ever seen.