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Perhaps it spoke to how long he has lived, and how long he would continue to- that he does not see any particular problem with directly addressing a mortal and their concerns. There is no recoil of apology, or tightening of his gaze in the same. Morpheus simply continues to watch her, how she moves and twists within herself.

What would he know? "Much." Ever inclined to the dramatic 'less is more' line of communique after dispensing uncanny truths, he considers her... almost resignation to her own fate with curiosity. "We have met plenty of times before- though it is not in your nature to remember." As for if he would understand accumulating such animosity, he remains silent.

Brown eyes widen, glinting with something between intrigue and alarm. Her gaze, her entire body, immediately turns towards him. Her brows furrow deeply, confusion written all over her face. Questions of how he knows her name and her self-fulfilled duty collect behind her lips, but no such words utter out. So she just glares at him; she searches for any deception, but alas, comes to an indefinite conclusion.

“And what would you know about that?” Emily asks, her question vague enough so that any prying ears nearby wouldn’t catch wind of its true meaning. “Regardless of what I do, where I go, I will make enemies. I don't expect anyone to understand, least of all a stranger like you.”

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"What you've done, you cannot undo. " from Lucifer | @amalgamatedmuses

"Is this personal insight speaking, Morningstar?" There is a wariness deep within the cosmic matter that makes up the Lord Shaper- of any creature large or small, Lucifer is capable by far of the greatest damage to him and his.

"I have done what needs must- and now I am come to you. If you do not desire a future boon of me, I can leave now." He's bluffing, at least in part. There weren't many who could get him what the First Fallen could.

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Had they so little faith in me?

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it's like one of those two-faced dog quotes bouncing around the net these days. 'oh i can get you one of them- watch the back and the front door at the same time!'. skittered somethin' awful along the back of his head.

though that could be because he is POINTEDLY staring down at his whiskey glass and away from those eyes, none too keen on a revisit of that seemingly-eternal nausea that john was pretty sure had nothing to do with the endless itself, and more to do with his magic pitching a fit. or it could simply be tuesday!

the magician laughs at his own humour, canting his head to at least show he's very much paying attention.

" yanno i tend t'satisfy any o'that with the comforting an' vaguely arousing thought that you're in my mouth at all hours~. " after all, he had a talent for lying- perhaps to a level it could be considered compulsive. also, an evident deathwish, given his utter devil-may-care attitude when it came to the divine and all their ilk.

" y'feel my tonguin' your shape earlier, is that it? it wasn' even my best yarn spun-- swindlin' swindler's is fair-easy if y'know what they're after."

"Hmm... I do wonder," the Endless purrs, coquettishly pursing their lips and tilting their chin. It could have been somewhat cute, similar to a confused canine in behavior- Except said being wasn't a dog at all, more an eldritch abomination posing as a chameleon.

They did so enjoy the spectacle of it all, such theatricality woven into the living tapestry of otherworldly forces and myriad inhuman shapes that continued to actively haunt Constantine's footsteps.

They were admittedly drawn to him, compelled by some innate magnetism that kept them hinged upon every lovely word the human haphazardly strung together- An ever growing foundation that made up the Magelord's colorful running litany of filth. It positively dripped from his rapier-like tongue, intoxicating as poisoned honey and slick as spilled oil.

"Have you been fantasizing about me, John? Do you lay awake at night imagining it- How it might feel when I finally decide to give some long, attentive strokes to your... ego? Not that you'd even believe me, " Deceit points out the obvious, petulantly jutting the glossy cushion of their lower lip.

Their appearance is so similar to their parent's and yet uniquely their own, simultaneously. The same razor-like sharpness to the eyes and umbral hair mirrored in their current form. Their slender limbs seem to grow even longer as they luxuriate upon the ceiling, defying gravity as they preen and stretch in place like a contented feline.

John's prickly and contrary nature seemed to activate some primal drive in them: to watch, to stalk, to chase... They weren't even certain that capturing him was truly their end game, much more fun to covet and obsess over prey that was actively challenging and evasive.

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❛ of all the demons i've known , none could compare to you , ❜ [*wakes up your Constantine muse*] | @gcldfanged is an enabler.

either memory is failing, or he's hearing the corner of the space between two numbers talking directly TO him. could be worse, he supposes. could have the entire gaggle of his pissed off spiritual fanclub up his arse - but his recent foray into a buddhist temple managed to spook the spooks for now.

" look. comin' from you, i'm sure that's a compliment- aye? " he'd met this one ONCE before, and nearly lost his lunch staring into mirrors for three weeks after. meeting immortals wasn't all that it was cracked to be. " . . .or is this some fucked reverse psychology wank that's meant t'make me feel better? "

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// Kkeungi you lil shit!!!

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// john constantine is a creature of deceit, desire, dream, and despair. he routinely gives destiny the middle finger (he likes to think), delirium has touched him more than once, and he and death are basically at war with him booking it and screaming 'YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME (PERMANENTLY)!'

literally. he deadass walked out of the afterlife once.

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"I am everywhere here, sister." Everywhere and ever-changing, shifting to that which his Dreamers needed most at any one time in infinite splits. Is it any wonder he - when given CHOICE - prefers monochrome?

"What is it that brings you to the Dreaming?" Conjuring a goldfish within a bubble; the creature never long remaining a single shape or colour- Dream sends it to swim around the youngest of them, of who he is remarkably fond. "...hopefully nothing unfortunate."

@endlcssdreamiing | Starter Call ;;

Ah, but the home of the Dream King makes sense to Delirium. Of their many siblings, his realm fits the twists and turns within her own being, the only place more suited being Madness, her own domain. Today she is alone, following a winding path with bare feet and the oddest mix of patchwork and eccentric clothing.

When she sees him, her eyes light up, an odd pale tone today, ❝ Oh, there you are...dark as the shadows and bright as the sun~ ❞

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SEND “⚡️” AND A QUESTION AND MY MUSE WILL BE FORCED TO ANSWER HONESTLY

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He supposes such would explain the deluge of information from the Outer Reaches manifesting within her dreams. They that called themselves 'Isu'- fractals splintered off from the true gods born of the Dreaming.

Yet he is also the Prince of Stories, and so is content to allow her to continue; even as he calls over a barmaid. Mankind did frequently love to eat as they socialised. His time with Hob Gadling has taught him as much.

"Such folly is common for mortal and immortal alike. Why pursue these artifacts then? Neither side has been a fit for you, Emily Beckett. It is unwise to make enemies upon both sides of a war."

@endlcssdreamiing | starter call.

The other’s question just barely made it through her ears. A sigh, fished from the deep sea of her chest, escapes past her lips. Her fingertip trails the rim of her glass. Perhaps she’ll entertain him.

“Hm. Well, I fucked with the forces that our eyes can’t see. So, there’s that.”

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❛ your laws do not compel me. ❜ (For Dream in his fishbowl <3) | @eyeless-smiles

It is a voice more intimate than the touch of a surgeon's scalpel. Formed and fostered through ages by his own hands- his once perfect Nightmare stands before his prison without fear. Foolishly. A failure in it's reveal.

Perhaps, were it not Dream itself to be the victim, it would applaud such cruelty- such perfect machination; to ensure an Endless entrapped in a form most unnatural to them the keenest of horrors.

Nebulous gaze swirls weakly as even now the fire within him glares pointedly at what he had made- the crystal enforcing a physical frame entirely against his intended function. Dreams were not meant to remain in reality; they soured, twisted- so too did the Endless.

The Corinthian's Lord waits for it to continue; refusing to debase himself by demanding for answers in words when his gaze is just as effective.

Speak, or leave.

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"I am not INTENDING it as a competition, sister." though as ever, he supposes most will not understand. "...I have simply never before been subject to the cruelty of my own creations."

@endlcssdreamiing Liked the Starter Call

❝ You're not the only one that happened to...Are you alright though? ❞

[endlcssdreamiing]

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝—𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧

𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔩

-

Lilith sideblog: @forsakenwrxth Promo gifs by the mega-talented @niceandaccurateresources

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It's utterly magnetic when a character's rage is quiet and precise. When they don't scream and throw things but they just b r e a t h e and very very calmly aim their fury like an arrow shooting inexorably towards the target of their wrath. It captures my attention, I lean in close, I wait for the hit. It never disappoints.

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Morpheus' Many Names and Titles

Names: Dream / Dream of the Endless | Oneiros | Kai'ckul | Murphy | Lord L'Zoril

Titles: The Sandman || Oneiromancer || Prince of Stories || Master of Dreams || Lord of Dreams || Lord of the Dreaming || Lord Shaper || World Shaper || Monarch of the Sleeping Marshes || King of the Nightmare Realms || Master of the Realm of Sleep || Shaper of Forms || Lord of the Dreamworld || King of All Night's Dreaming