#divinethief

[conduitandconjurer]

[meta topic] Klaus and reading

Send a topic for a meta about my muse (always accepting)!

Klaus loves reading but it requires a very specific set of circumstances to get him to stay with the text he starts on. Cause ADHD without proper therapy or meds + the constant overstimulation of GHOSTS! GHOSTS! GHOSTS! screaming “kLAUUUUS KLAUUUUS KLAUUUUUUS KLAUUUUS!!!!” 24/7 is....nooooot fun, nor is it conducive to good focus even in a neurotypical person.

Usually Klaus needs white noise, pink noise, or background music (usually electronica, soundscapes/new age, meditation music, blues, or classic rock) in order to relax and therefore concentrate. Silence is murderous to his C-PTSD and the repetitive trauma-memory sounds he “hears” (his own name uttered by a particularly strident ghost, helicopter propellers, gunfire, splattering liquid, etc) and that thwarts any activity, much less the concentration required to read.

Klaus enjoys all kinds of reading, everything from Cosmo to William Faulkner.  Once his ADHD swings into hyperfocus mode, he can devour a book of 300-500 pages in one, two days.  He read Vanya’s book in a 24-hour period, taking it to group therapy sessions in rehab.  He really enjoys books on experimental spirituality, which are stream-of-consciousness and heavy on metaphysical analysis.  He is much, MUCH more intelligent than his siblings give him credit for, and exceptionally well-read (in multiple languages) even though it requires associative triggers of some sort (a place, a word, a sound) to unlock his unreliable and piecemeal memory. It’s all up there in that beautiful noggin, just hard to access. 

[strangcrdoctor]

[fluster your muse] “You know,” the angel considers, lounging lazily against a wall and studying the former surgeon, “I think I’d like to paint a nude study of you. You’re compelling in all the right ways.”

He was just trying to have a beer for heaven’s sake. Granted he did know better than to think inviting Balthazaar to join him, even for tea, wouldn’t involve some grand manner of nonsense - the disembodied hand at his infamous feast proof to the positive of his reputation in that regard. And he was at least a more pleasant houseguest than many others he had... the last time Daimon Hellstrom had stopped for margaritas by he’d nearly incinerated the couch.

Apparently the mad deity just wanted to paint him like one of his French Girls. Which was a compliment he had never anticipated getting in his lifetime.

Which was precisely why he didn’t know what to do with that information. Other than nearly snort his beer, which was probably not his most suave comeback ever. Especially given he blushed, because much as it was an odd statement, he knew better than to think it wasn’t fully and frighteningly meant. “Uh. I can say quite honestly that I’ve never sat for a portrait before,” he said, the sounds rough in his throat. “But somehow, I get the feeling you’d do me justices.”

[illusivexemissary]

“Gabe,” Balthazar calls absently, wandering into the kitchen where he can smell cookies baking. The children are playing at the fairy court today, guests of Titania and Oberon’s daughter, Lily and son, Ash. “What if we put a tree bed in Thea’s room? Like a loft bed, but we make it look like a treehouse? She’s getting too big for her flower bed,” it’s low to the ground, a lotus blossom of pillows and soft padding from toddler days, “and I think she’d love it. Thoughts?”

Gabriel’s sitting on the kitchen counter, idly levitating a mixing bowl to prepare some particularly unearthly-delicious blondies.  The whisk stirs the batter by itself, like some comically whimsical scene from a Disney animated feature sporting the very type of fairies with whom Balthazar’s kids play.  

    “IIIII think that c’n be managed with a little snap-snapping,” he ventures, “unless you wanna go native an’ do it manually....?” 

Playfully, his Grace flickers alight behind hazel eyes, promising heavenly might to fuel this extremely crucial activity. 

    “Eh, eh?” 

[icyxmischief]

“Mama!” The scream is jubilant, ferocious, a victory cry from a puppy who has made herself in the image of the wolf-mother she adores. In the living room, with her hair neatly braided back in the warrior’s braids she favors these days, Thea stands tall in the middle of a drift of snow, beaming with every tooth bared like the fangs of the wolf pup she is inside. “I DID IT! I made snow!” Joyful, triumphant, she cackles out a laugh and dances in the icy slush that covers the hardwood. “I did it!”

     “That you did, my love...!” 

Loki hastens outside and sieves Thea’s magic into a continuous upward spiral, rejuvenating the slush on which she stomps as fresh snowflakes. 

    “Well done, well done.”

A memory comes to him unbidden yet welcome: a memory of the scent of apples and lemons, a strawberry blond mane of curls and gentle eyes: well done, my little trickster. 

Mama . . . .

    “Thea, I’m so proud of you,” Loki presses, cupping the child’s little face in cool palms as gentle as his own mother’s eyes. 

[sclfmastery]

“I need help,” Davie begins, holding up a package of fresh oil pastels that are shrink wrapped in plastic. “I can’t— they’re too— I tried with my teeth and everything, can you help?”

The Master is subdued today--large brown eyes aren’t capable of focusing on Davie’s face, and stray somewhere into his golden curls.  But he quietly nods.  And he takes the child’s precious little bundle of creative resources and, with the fingernail of an index finger, slices right through the cellophane.

He hands it back to Davie, with a detached expression on his face, rolling his head along his neck. A bird lands on Balthazar’s feeder outside the cottage: a radiant finch of some kind, with bright yellow feathers. 

The Master, who has done so much that is evil, smiles at this beautiful yet insignificant little life form, with eyes that mist. 

    “Remarkable,” the painter breathes. 

[xmenwickedgame]

@divinethief

It was a good day that brought Charles to the front door this afternoon. A good day, although he couldn’t particularly explain why. Truthfully, he didn’t particularly care, as long as they outnumbered the bad he’d welcome them with open arms. 

He pulled the door back and that good feeling blossomed into a surprised (but no less sincere) grin. “Balthazar? I-I’ve not seen you in ages.”

[the-boy-king-rp-multi]

I Just Wanted To Be Normal | Stanford AU

Out of the last few years he'd been at Stanford- To say he was nervous about this was quite an understatement. He hadn't even been THIS nerve-wracked when John had taken him on his first werewolf hunt when he was sixteen. He'd agreed to volunteer to be the art students next model to draw, after some convincing from Jess and Brady how it'd be fun! But now he was very nervous, because well- Not anyone aside from family and those he'd slept with had seen him COMPLETELY nude.

He was wearing a pair of loose sweatpants and no boxers with some sneakers, along with a hoodie when he stumbled into the classroom so it would be that much easier to disrobe, shyly asking the teachers assistant in a hushed whisper if he was in the right place. He was guided to the middle of the room where to sit, slowly tugging off his shoes, shirt, and the rest of his clothes before sitting down, cheeks beautifully flushed. Though he was THANKFUL the room wasn't cold. @divinethief

[motherednature]

divinethief replied to your post:

HAVE YOU CONSIDERED INSTEAD THAT SERA WILL GET TO INTRODUCE HER BABIES TO SHARKS

that would be the best kush yes ;___;