â§Â selective multi-muse // multi-fandom ⧠⧠writer - wren ⧠⧠pronouns - they/them ⧠⧠age - 26 ⧠(( previously @/menageriie - in process of reorganizing ))
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@wrenwritings
â§Â selective multi-muse // multi-fandom ⧠⧠writer - wren ⧠⧠pronouns - they/them ⧠⧠age - 26 ⧠(( previously @/menageriie - in process of reorganizing ))
âŁÂ muses // rules // ask // psd credit

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Dream + his rare, tiny, precious smile
the sandman - 1.06Â
TOM STURRIDGE as Dream of the Endless The Sandman 1.02: âImperfect Hostsâ
|| Parallels between Magneto/Erik Lehnsherr and Dream of the Endless/Morpheus
(( currently i am snuggled up on my couch watching the sandman episode 6 watchparty with some of the cast and neil, and per usual i am so emotional about dream. magneto is another character i am extremely passionate about, and i have realized just how much he and dream have in common, at their core. so i might sound delusional, but i will try and explain and list my reasons here. read if you like, but i HAD to get these ideas written out, and out of my head. ))

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literally no one asked about this and i probably sound delusional but there are parallels between dream/morpheus and magneto/erik lehnsherr that are making me absolutely bonkers and making me realize why i fell so hard for dream SO fast. like when i say dream is 1000% my type of character, i mean it. maybe later today iâll make a post about the parallels i see between themâŚ
this is gonna be written and hopefully posted today so on the off chance that literally anyone is interested in this.. keep a look out lol
withinkâ:
it was a, for lack of better terms, unique experience â being unmade.
and while he didnât have much to say in favor of non-existence, being remade was arguably the better way to go. the last memory he had was of dreamâs face, swirling sand, and the all too familiar feeling of being dismantled â ripped apart atom by atom.
then nothingness.
and nothingness, bled into feeling.
sensation.
as particles shifted and gathered, solidified into human(ish) form - he could feel the ground beneath his feet once more. a cool breeze ruffled blonde locks. there was a presence nearby, he could sense. morpheus.
the corinthian finally opened his eyes - and immediately noticed something was off. this wasnât like last time, he felt different.
the dreaming looked different.
one hand moved to examine his face, pausing in utter bewilderment at the absence of two additional sets of teeth within his countenance.
letting out a slight chuckle, the corinthian shook his head in disbelief.
he took a few hesitant breaths before opening his mouth to speak as well. ( though unneeded, it was nice to know everything appeared to be functioning like normal. )
â â youâve taken some creative liberties, i see. â
he turned to face dream now, taking in the other manâs oddly pleasant demeanor with a puzzled tilt of the head. their last interaction had been nothing short of a disaster, and now, here he was, rebuilding the corinthian, welcoming him like an old friend.
a sudden rush of anger and suspicion immediately squashed any last feelings of bewilderment.
â what did you do⌠what exactlyâ â he paused, pointing a finger at the dream lord. â wh- whatâs your angle hereâ ? â he finally stuttered out a response, his normally articulate self finding it hard to choose the right words in this moment.
creative liberties. that almost drew a chuckle from him. dream kept his composure as the newly formed dream took everything in, only acting again once the corinthian jutted an accusatory finger in his direction.
âi do not have an angle. i promise you that. please, take a moment to center yourself. we have time to talk, for me to answer any questions you may have.â he kept his hands at his sides but took a tentative step forwardâ testing the waters, expression calm and curious.
âyou are different. it is no surprise that you feel it, and i am sure it must be strange.â dream continued, slow and steady. ânot only have you changed physically, but you have been granted a new purposeâ new meaning. one that i sincerely hope you find fulfilling. you are, for lack of better words, the first of your kind.â
so far, morpheus was pleased with how this was going. he was learning to listen, to let the moment develop, to let the ones around him be what they are. to feel something, instead of holding the world around him in a chokehold so that he could escape with his vulnerability still hidden away.Â
the dream lord then motioned to the water a few feet away. âthe stream here is calm, slow enough for you to see yourself in itâs reflection. if your curiosity speaks to you, you are welcome to view your new form.â
ooookay i kinda updated my rules page and my muses page so theyâre a bit more up to date lol might do more with them later but theyâre better now at least
literally no one asked about this and i probably sound delusional but there are parallels between dream/morpheus and magneto/erik lehnsherr that are making me absolutely bonkers and making me realize why i fell so hard for dream SO fast. like when i say dream is 1000% my type of character, i mean it. maybe later today iâll make a post about the parallels i see between them...
what am i currently listening to, you ask? this. on repeat. for the next 80 or so years, at least. filed under: music that rips my heart out and heals it at the same time.

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@withink
in a small corner of the dreaming, soft shadows from the slow moving leaves danced across the plains of fiddlerâs green. just as they did everyday, day after day. endlessly. peacefully. this was a realm where anything was possible, and one of its many wonders was an always trustworthy friend. there for you when you needed it. comforting and welcoming, warm and serene. gilbert, as he called himself in the waking worldâ revealed by the former dream vortex rose walker. even beautiful views and clear waters can contain multitudes in the world of dreams. like has been saidâ anything was possible.
gentle footsteps entered the field at the edge of the dream, muffled slightly by the sweeping tail of a black coat moving in the breeze. the dream lord took care when moving about his kingdom, but especially here. dreams like this were as close to sacred as he would ever be able to make. morpheus dared not disturb or scar that which he created, for it was just as much his job to watch and protect them as it was to keep the order. he would be much more careful now, after lessons learned over the past century. he would watch, he would protect, and he would keep the orderâ but no longer would he do it to the detriment of those he was meant to look after, mortal or not. he needed to do better, to be better. this was his new beginning, one that he wasnât quite sure he deserved.
once he reached the tree line the shadows flittered across his features, turning his pale skin to ashy whiteâ like porcelain not touched in lost years, dust gathering as it remained there forgotten and unneeded. in the fleeting moments away from the light, his blue eyes turned black and glittered with the cosmos as they stayed glued to the ground with each step. in his hand, enclosed by a fist, dream of the endless held the entire potential of a new entityâ a nightmare that once escaped his grasp, and a mistake he was eager to correct. though alone when he entered, dream was determined to leave fiddlerâs green with a new creation by his side. something he had done more times than any could fathomâ and yet today he found himself uneasy. nervous. for this was not just any nightmare. this was the corinthian. and there was no room for failure this time around.
dream stopped once he reached the water and the silence surrounded him. slowly he adjusted to the sounds of the forestâ the wind rustling through the trees, the water finding its way around the rocks it traveled over, songbirds calling to one another. it was a kind of silence and peace that dream heard too little of. what was the human expression? it was important to stop and smell the roses? he noted that there were no roses here in fiddlerâs green, but perhaps that wasnât the point. dream thought he understood humans but he had been shown that he had much to learn. and much to learn about himself, as well.
after a few moments of reflection he held out his closed fist in front of him, then unclasped his fingers. revealed beneath them was a small skull, balanced on the center of his palm, looking back at him with eyes permanently frozen in a scowl. it was the only thing left after taking apart the corinthianâ an unexpected souvenir, curious and strange and unique. morpheus had set it aside, kept safe by lucienne until he was ready to face his failure again.Â
âi am sorry for keeping you waiting.â dream spoke in almost a whisper, head tilting slightly as he spoke to the relic in his hand. âbut i did not want to bring you back until my intentions were clear. you were a failure, but the fault was my own. and you.. you deserve better than that. we have all changed.â the words briefly caught in his throat, but he continued. âi regret that i did not change sooner. for your sake. and for humanityâs.â
there was a moment of pause, and then dream set the corinthianâs reincarnation into motion. the skull lifted from his palm and a cloud of gold began to form and swirl around it, glittering in the sun like sand and metal, cut through with smoke. the new dream formed from the ground up, and morpheus took a step back as the new corinthian appeared before him.
the entity remained motionless, eyes closed and body still, as dream looked him over. so familiar, yet so new. the beginning of a smile pulled at one corner of dreamâs lips, happy with his work.
ânowâ w a k e.â with that gentle command, the corinthianâs eyes openedâ glittering gold irises awake to the light for the first time.Â
// me: iâll just finish this one shot fic and then be back to do replies
me 13 pages of fic later: âŚ..hm
// holy shit i finished it. 6300 words. wow.
// me: iâll just finish this one shot fic and then be back to do replies
me 13 pages of fic later: .....hm
coteriieâ:
eddieâs answer is perplexing, if not totally expected.
the other boy was never an open book when it came to sharing his emotions, a process stan was all too familiar with. but he doesnât pry. what kind of a friend would he be if he did? â eddie will tell him in due time. and if he doesnât? so be it.
the most stanley can do for him in this moment is be here. another calming presence, dedicated to reducing the stressors in eddieâs life, not contributing to them.
he sits up finally, after a few short moments of introspection regarding his friendâs dilemma. the blanket theyâve been laying on is wrinkled, and stan absentmindedly straightens out the fabric, still unsure of what to say in response. the clouds continue to drift ahead, the richie-cloud slowly moving out of view. he turns to eddie, but not before plucking a clover from the grass beside him and offering it to his friend in apology.
â okay. thatâs fine, â is all he eventually manages to spit out, and stan hopes that his tone is nonchalant enough to come across as understanding and not cold and aloof.
eddieâs eyes glance to the small flower being offered to him, even though he doesnât turn his head at first. he takes half a second to think about it, and then one of his hands moves to take it. as he does, he sits up.
thereâs a hint of a smile as he slowly turns the little clover over in his fingers, choosing to focus on it instead of looking at stan. he also notices how the blanket is almost wrinkle-free over next to stan after his friend straightened it out, and how it was completely bunched together next to him. eddie hastily takes his free hand and squashes the wrinkles, trying to get it to match. he doesnât do a very good job.
âyou everâ you ever think about what itâs going to be like when we grow up?â eddie goes back to staring at the round flower in his hand. he has his arm resting atop one of his knees, while the other helps him stay propped upright. âlike, will we all still be friends? or uhm, i donât know. do you think weâll still like each other after high school? do our parents still have friends from when they were our age? i canât remember if my mom has ever said anything about old friends before.â
this is how it always went with eddie: from not enough words, to too many of them. and stan, being one of the calmer members of the friend group ( especially compared to richie, which is who eddieâs used to ), has a habit of being saddled with eddieâs stream of consciousness rants.Â
⌠KLAUS HARGREEVES : A LIST ⌠(( here you will find ramblings and headcanons about klaus aka number four/the seance ))
â§ my version of klaus is show based, with mild references to the comics at times ( especially in terms of his powers ). show!klaus and comic!klaus are very different, which is why i wanted to make that point right off the bat. â§ klaus is pansexual. from what iâve seen, most people in the fandom consider this to be canon but since it isnât explicitly stated in the show and has only been stated by robert sheehan once-- iâd like to make a mention of it. â§ klaus is also non-binary. another thing that most consider canon, but i also wanted to reiterate it here. he uses he/they pronouns-- which means that in replies you can use either set of pronouns. interchanging them between replies also works! iâd say klaus usually prefers he/him but loves they/them from time to time. â§ klaus has undiagnosed adhd. considering his upbringing and his shitty father, are we surprised? he also has an anxiety disorder and depression, also undiagnosed. â§ theyâre claustrophobic. â§ klaus does love pink, but itâs not their favorite color. in fact, klaus doesnât really have one but does love muted/dusty colors-- blues like periwinkle, greys, pastels. that sort of thing. â§ his powers extend past humans-- he can see animal ghosts as well. for him, itâs very hard to tell the difference between an alive animal and a ghost animal. animals in general are drawn to him/feel comfortable around him, and since he can interact with ghosts ( meaning he can touch them ) he often isnât aware if theyâre a ghost or not until someone gives his a strange look or asks him what heâs doing. â§ on that same note-- when klaus was younger he was able to interact/make animal ghosts tangible to him. this is WAY before he discovered he could do the same with human ghosts. itâs also an ability that he lost/forgot about as he got older and became more troubled. it came back to him once he worked at his powers along with ben. â§ once klaus unlocks more of his potential in terms of his abilities his eyes, hands, and tattoos glow a bright blue while heâs using them. â§ his hair is curly ( and i mean curly like robâs ). reggie hated any attempt that klaus made to be âout of orderâ aka anything he did to be his more authentic self, which made him stick out. reggie didnât allow for that, and klaus would get punished every time he tried to wear a skirt or do his makeup, and eventually reggie even controlled how his hair looked. â§ klausâ powers give him an odd sort of âconnectionâ to the world around him. his senses are dialed up a few notches above most people. he notices the little things before most do. he has a small amount of empathic ability, but itâs not something he can control and itâs not something heâs really aware of. like his main powers, they are stifled when heâs high or drunk. â§ growing up, klaus doodled when he was anxious. his walls are covered in words and drawings, but he actually preferred drawing on himself. his arms would often be covered in repetitive designs or words he got stuck in his head. when his siblings allowed him to, he would inflict his doodles on their skin as well. it calmed him down. this is also where he got the inspiration for his hand tattoos-- he kept drawing them over and over and over, and eventually he decided to make them permanent. â§ the briefcase exploding in season one after klaus tosses it away? that was his telekinesis. â§ when klaus conjured ben at his funeral, that was the first and only time he was ever proud of his powers. he was also proud of himself when he conjured dave and when he fought in the fight scene at the beginning of season 2, but since those moments got erased from the timeline they unfortunately donât count. â§ klaus is, genuinely, an extremely caring person, he loves to help people, and he loves to be there for them. the abuse he suffered during his childhood causes him to act cold, distant, or uncaring-- but deep down, thatâs not his true self.

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// mayhaps itâs time for my list of klaus headcanons
     the night was warm and quiet, or as quiet as a night in the city could be. ben kicked his feet idly as he sat at the edge of the dock ( soles of black boots just barely touching the surface of the water, the occasional ripple disrupting the otherwise peace ). he maybe could have suggested a better place, one that didnât smell of wet stone and algae, but he trusted the process: things rarely remained as bored as they seemed when klaus had anything to say about it.
      â  we still haveâŚwhat, twenty dollars left?  â   ben piped around a mouthful of pizza, swallowing hard. moving his slice to one hand, he pretended to check a watch that he most definitely did not have on his wrist.   â  itâs still technically  â five dollar tuesday at the movie theater. if we walk fast, might be able to catch something halfway decent.  â
@menageriie.
âhmm..â klaus hummed a soft note as he thought over benâs idea. his eyes were glued to the water where his bare feet were submerged below the dark surface, and his head tilted just slightly to the side. amazingly enough, klaus did wear shoes tonightâ but they were kicked aside the second they reached the end of the dock.
âyouâre not thinking smart enough, benny boy.â he replied before taking a bite of his own slice. he continued even though his mouth was full, gesturing grandly even with the pizza flopping around in his grip. âif youâre dying to see a movie so much, we can just sneak in. and then weâll find something even more fun to use the rest of the cash on.â at that point he turned to his brother, wiggling his eyebrows and smiling stupidly.
âcâmon benster. donât you have even one thing you wanna do tonight that you never get to do? dream big!â