#switch!morpheus

It was a quiet day in the dreaming. Everyone was busy out and about while Mervyn and Morpheus where in the throne room, Him staring at a goodbye gift from his sister Delirium while Mervyn was sweeping the mushroom covered floor because of her.

The obsidian throne hums faintly beneath him as Morpheus turns the gift —a swirling and lidded glass orb filled with laughing colors—between long, pale fingers. His dark eyes flicker toward the other, then back to the trinket.

"Delirium calls this joy,"he murmurs, voice like smoke over stone,"Yet it unsettles me. It… wiggles."

He sighs, His gaze lingering on the pumpkin-head—just for a moment—before drifting to the shadows beyond.

"Aren't you going to open it?"Mervyn asks while continuing to scrub at the mushrooms on the stone floor.

Morpheus studies the gift with thinly-veiled wariness. He's never been a fan of surprises—least of all, surprises from Delirium.

"It's joy,"he sighs, leaning back against his throne,"Delirium must think me too serious. I should be offended, if not for my affection for my sister."

His gaze flicks down to Mervyn."What do you think, Mervyn? Will it explode when I open the lid?"

"Maybe... Probably..."he nods. "or not..." he shrugs. "It took me weeks to clean the last glitter bomb... but it could also be something entirely different now... I'm actually kind of curious."

At the mention of Delirium's previous 'gifts', Morpheus grimaces. He's had his fill of glitter, slime, and live animals in the last centuries.

His jaw tightens, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth."Your optimism is endearing, Mervyn, though I doubt it will keep me from choking on my tongue once I've opened delirium's gift."

He inspected the gift, slender fingers toying with the glass lid.

The orb suddenly vibrates, emitting a giggle. Morpheus recoils—just slightly—his fingers pausing midair.

"...It breathed at me."

He glares at the gift as if it has personally insulted his dignity.

"I am Dream of the Endless. I command nightmares and shape the void of slumber. I do not... open giggling baubles."

A long pause. Then, with dramatic reluctance,"You do it."

He levitates the orb toward Mervyn."If it explodes, at least my throne will stay clean."

"OVER MY DEAD BODY!!"The pumpkin-headed man immediately drops the broom and runs behind a pillar to hide. "you open it, and I'll just clean the mess as usual!"

The orb giggles again, louder—now emitting an off-key but soft melody.

Morpheus narrows his eyes."So… you admit there will be a mess."

He rises from the throne in one fluid motion, shadows curling like smoke around him. The air hums with quiet power.

"Very well."

With a flick of his hand, he pops the lid open—not with fingers, but with silence itself. The room holds its breath as the orb floats midair.

Rainbowish glittering mist emerges from the glass orb, quickly surrounding the both of them before they suddenly lift off the floor as if in outer space, defying gravity.

Mervyn suddenly gives a high pitched and undignified yelp upon feeling invisible phantom hands teasing along his skin, to which bubbly giggles spill from his mouth as he floats aimlessly upside down.

"It tickles- It's tickling me~!"

Morpheus hovers nearby, eyebrow raised as the orb continues spewing mist and laughter. He crosses his arms.

"Delightful," he murmurs, voice dry as winter dust."My sister's idea of 'joy'..."

He glances Mervyns way, watching him squirm.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself."

Mervyn quickly covers his face in embarrassment at the dream lord's observation, too flustered to answer as he can't stop cackling himself silly. But the poor janitor isn't the only one targeted by delirium's 'joy' as Morpheus feels the phantom hands too.

As the mist thickens, Morpheus tries to compose himself, but his stoic facade crumbles as the tickling fingers glide over his neck and ribs. He bristles, his muscles tensing—then relaxes with a sharp exhale as the sensation becomes gentler, bordering on soothing.

A rare, begrudging smile plays at the corner of his lips.

"Delirium's... sense of humor."His eyes land on Mervyn who's still cackling like a madman, curled up in midair, legs kicking out uselessly."You look ridiculous..."

He tries to maintain a regal bearing, but the involuntary twitching of his lips betrays his amusement. Your laugh is like sunshine in a dark forest—a sound of unbridled joy that he hasn't heard in ages.

The invisible fingers continue their dance over his form, finding the ticklish spots that only someone intimately familiar with him would know—a fact that does not escape Morpheus' notice.

"Do you think my sister is watching us, Merv? This feels eerily like a set up from her end..."he comments, his usually smooth and rich voice tinged with a touch of playfulness.

"HOW SHOULD I KNOW~!?!?" He crackles out while trying and failing to grip the phantom hands tickling him all over.

Morpheus crosses his arms, his smirk widening into a rare smile. Mervyn's laughter is strangely infectious, and he finds it harder to maintain his usual aloof demeanor.

"Delirium is certainly enjoying this,"he concedes, his tone tinged with reluctant affection."She has always found ways to humor me with her curious ways."

The tickling fingers continue their dance, finding spots where the dream lord is least guarded, making him squirm involuntarily.

"You know…"he murmurs with restraint, eyeing you."I find it... somewhat unfair you enjoy my gift more than I do."

"DON'T TEASE ME, I CAN'T HELP IT~!!" He whines through his laughter, the mischivous invisible hands definitely hitting all the right spots to drive the poor janitor crazy.

The room swirls with shimmering mist, laughter echoing like wind chimes in a storm. Morpheus watches the other flail midair, utterly undone by delight—and something flickers in his dark eyes. Amusement? Fondness? Even he wouldn’t dare name it.

"Tease you?"He tilts his head, voice low and dangerously smooth."I merely observe. You are the one who sounds like a raspy hyena dipped in honey."

A beat. Then—calmly—he raises a hand and gestures.

"Perhaps... I should create more hands~"

The air twists. And suddenly… twice as many fingers descend upon the pumpkin-headed man.

"Let us see how much louder joy can sing~"

Mervyn screeches in delight as his cackling grows harder and hysterical, though he doesn't protest as basically both endless have their fun with him.

Morpheus watches you unravel with quiet awe. The sight of you—kicking, squealing, utterly alive—makes something deep within him soften.

"Hmph,"he murmurs,"It would seem even nightmares are not immune to joy."

He drifts closer through the glitter mist, one pale hand extending to steady Mervyn's spinning form. His touch is cool, firm... oddly gentle.

Then—a whisper against the chaos—

"And perhaps... neither am I..."

The hands finally fade.

Mervyn floats there, giggly and breathless.

So does the dream lord.

Until they both eventually and slowly float down gently after a minute or two as the mist retraces back into the glass orb and seals itself back shut.

The glass orb floats gently to Morpheus hand, humming a tune that sounds awfully lot ike Delirium.

Dream holds it, turning it over, lost in thoughts. Then—very softly—he mutters:

"Delirium seems to knows me strangely well it seems..."

He glances Mervyn's way, dark eyes softer than usual.

"How do you feel, Mervyn?"

"T-tingly..~"He chuckles breathlessly, not able to stop smiling as he slowly gets up on shaky legs.

A rare smile dances on Dreams lips as Mervyn tries to regain his balance. The normally stoic Dream Lord somehow looks at ease now, the tension in his shoulders eased.

"Tingly,"he echoes, amusement in his voice. He watches the other gather themselves, his gaze lingering on the smiley pumkin-head.

"And here I thought the room was spinning for me alone~"

Mervyn chuckles at that and looks at the orb in Dreams hand. "...can we keep this silly glass ball instead of throwing it away like the last?"

Morpheus watches the orb, its surface now cool and quiet. For a moment, he says nothing—only studies the glowing glass, the way his own pale fingers cradle the glass like something oddly precious.

Then, slowly: He nods.

"Yes, we may."

Mervyn smiles at that before Dream gives him a pointed look. "Tell no one this ever happened."

"Huh? Oh uh... okay, sure thing Boss.." Mervyn nods with a smile, knowing all too well how particular the endless is about his 'dignity' as he hums and turns to walk away.

The throne room empties, left only with drifting stardust and the echo of a pumpkin-headed fool’s joyful humming. Morpheus looks after him as he makes his way back up the stairs.

A single breath escapes him.

"Ah,"he murmurs to no one,"so this is what joy feels like… from the other side."