#leo. | muse

[metamorphesque]

"War and Peace", Leo Tolstoy (translated by Constance Garnett)

[thiscoldheart]

emma and dexter + kisses

ONE DAY (2024)

[frida-hamato]

from @lara-cairncross 's rottmnt fairy hollow AU! when your brother offers to fly you somewhere but stops every five seconds to talk to someone The designs are really fun to draw, mixed elements from a couple of different iterations from across the au!

[turtleblogatlast]

It’s hard to escape self doubt

[reddamselette]

“Your hair is getting long. Gonna cut it?” Leo asked, tilting his head to the side as he crossed his ankles and leaned against the headboard, watching from the bed as Jason rinsed his mouth of toothpaste and shut the lights off.

Jason hummed, walking over to Leo before he crawled over him and collapsed onto the bed. He propped his head up against the palm of his hand, blue eyes roaming Leo’s face with a sweet smile. “I don’t think so. We’ll be matching.”

He gripped each side of the sink, his knuckles turning white as his head hung forward and he sniffed through sobs, choking and swallowing thickly each time he drew in a deep breath. Teardrops fell into the sink along with water from soaked hair. Jason’s hair was getting long and Leo wasn’t around to see it and match.

[hazellvsq]

hazel drawing her friends

she doesn't draw leo's face bc she's drawn that same face before and its very weird for her but she'll draw faraway shots of him steering the ship like an 18th century sea captain

she drew festus too, asleep but still frightening

piper's self conscious about being drawn but hazel loves her and loves how she looks and spends a lot of time trying to capture what makes piper so magnetic

she herself is kind of self conscious about drawing reyna or annabeth but she draws them in each other's clothes - reyna in jorts, annabeth in a toga and cape - and they both think its funny as hell

hazel draws reyna's dogs too. they pose for her and everything.

obviously arion is her top model

she draws frank all the time and it makes him blush. she'll draw frank drinking juice and caption it "frank drinking juice"

she drew frank in a world war one uniform for childhood crush reasons but felt like something was missing so she drew him in a plane that was about to crash and ended up getting super invested in the plane detail so its a very dramatic drawing. frank was like "uuhhh why am i getting shot down?" and she was like "clearly you don't understand art???"

she draws nico and gives him better hair bc she's nice

she also gives him a cool vintage car in some pictures. or a vespa.

she won't do a self-portrait

she draws percy destroying the glacier, like if the son of neptune cover was drawn by a non-professional artist.

she had one drawing of jason based on the day that she met him at camp jupiter. it was not a good day for her bc she was newly resurrected and very scared. it is a very good technical drawing of jason, and he looks powerful and strong, but he has intense eyes with no expression behind them and there is a very unnerving feeling to the drawing itself.

to piper and leo it reminds them a little of when jason had amnesia, but this is a drawing of him before that, which is not quite accurate to how hazel perceived him or to how he really was. its probably hazel's best work but it makes her and everyone a little uncomfortable.

[anthaeum]

mona lisa.

love is when you try to make it out alive.

🏹 — wherein leo valdez realizes the absolutes in his life.

leo valdez x roman apollo!reader. enemies to lovers to exes to lovers (implied), set in the future, non canon-compliant. gn!singer!reader.

(not proofread.)

wc. 906

💭 : it's 3:22 AM and i have school tmr but this legit wouldn't stop bugging me until i posted it. the title is from mona lisa by dominic fike, listen to it here! please let me know your thoughts, comments, and any reactions through my askbox! enjoy reading 🤍

Leo Valdez knows there are absolutes in his life. 

One of them is metalwork. Smelting, forging, blacksmithing — the flames and heat of the furnace were never a nuisance to Leo when his nimble fingers and tools pulled and twisted at any piece of metal, whether it be the finest bar of gold or the lowest piece of scrap. The son of Hephaestus takes pride in his craft, displaying the tiniest coin he created or the biggest metal dragon he’s fixed on a glass shelf in the confines of his heart. 

His friends are one of them. He thinks of Piper, his sister, who he still cooks tofu for because she says "it's the best she’s ever had". There’s Reyna — and he doesn't tell anyone, but he’s glad he found a friendship in Reyna, someone he doesn't have to mind the language barriers around. There’s Frank, who trusted Leo with his life, literally and figuratively. He thinks of Jason, his best friend, and Leo counts him as two absolutes. 

There’s also the little things, too. He always runs maintenance checks every week, he ties the right shoe before the left, he keeps his loose change in his pant pockets, he wasn’t good at freehand engraving. 

Another, he thinks, is you. 

You, the sweet child of the sun. 

The radio echoes across the room, filling the quiet workshop with life. 

Leo Valdez, sweat-drenched and exhausted, stares down at the sheet of gold on his anvil. Engraved on its surface is a set of symbols he knew by heart — a harp, six lines, and the letters S, P, Q, and R. 

You, you, you, you. 

He remembers the first time he laid his eyes on you. He doesn't remember the way you knocked an arrow and aimed down at him; his mind’s eye just sees gold — in the shine of your eyes, your armor, the tips of your arrows, your aura, you.

He remembers the war's aftermath — his war specifically. He remembers searching through seas of orange, purple, bronze, and gold; none of them were his golden archer. 

He doesn’t know if he’s still dreaming when he hears your voice echoing through the radio. He stays still, eyes wide and unmoving, and it’s only until the radio croons a, “that was Yn Ln’s latest single, ladies and gentlemen!” does he snap out of his reverie. 

He remembers the taste of golden victory. Nights under starlight, conversations of the future, you (finally) in his arms. The stars shone faux spotlights on you as your singing lulled Leo into peace he hadn't known for a long while. 

You told him your dreams, your love for singing, and how you wished to be able to share your voice to the world. Suddenly, the taste in his mouth is bitter. 

Because here he was, in his workshop, listening to you, when he could have been celebrating you and your dream (now, your reality) instead. 

He puts his head in his hands as if struck with agony, the unfamiliar beginning melody of “another hit from the rising popstar!” playing on the radio and echoing through his mind. 

(Yet, Leo can't find it in himself to turn the radio down.) 

A walk would clear his mind, he thinks. 

Any attempt to clear his mind is futile. You’re all he sees. 

In the billboards, posters, street signs. 

You, you, you, you.

Leo stares. He stands and stares, unmoving, at the features he fell so in love with. He's transfixed at the way your eyes shine and crinkle at the corners, the curve of your lips as you bare your teeth into a grin. You look ethereal in this light, it would make Parisian paintings look over at you in envy. 

The same tattooed lyre he memorized peeks from above your gold-etched name. He wishes he could feel them under his fingertips once more. 

Anguish akin to the heat of hot iron crushes his chest. He feels the fingerprints of yearning litter his heart, indelible and engraved. This was your doing, Leo thinks; because, no matter how many times he tries to deny it, the same aching muscle has never once left the confines of your hand. 

(And Leo can't find it in himself to turn away. he can’t think of anyone else.)

Leo knows it’s only a matter of time. Passersby’s comments fall on his eager ears, and Leo’s heart only beats faster when he hears a, “they’ll be performing tonight!”

He tries not to think of the feeling in his chest, of the painful yearning and the jittery nervousness, as he pushes the door to the jazz bar open. 

When he hears your voice, oh so melodic and beautiful, he freezes. 

You’re under real spotlights now, shining and so golden under their light. 

You look at him, and Leo swears his heart stops.

Your eyes still shine the same. 

Leo Valdez realizes another absolute — you, in all your golden glory, would forever be his weakness. His heel tingles at the sound of the arrows you draw with your song, as if they’d home in on the one vulnerable spot on his flesh and leave him for dead.  

(And yet, he thinks you’ve done it. You, the one Leo Valdez sees in Parisian paintings. You, whose voice Leo Baldez hears in TV stations. You, the sweet child of the sun, who had pierced his heart with the same arrows that stared him down all those years ago.)

aaaa my first post ever ever .... hope u all enjoy !!!! reblogs are so appreciated, please tell me how u liked my fic 😞😞

© ANTHAEUM (2024). do not republish, edit, translate, or plagiarize my works.

[jstor]

Finished The Death of Ivan Ilyich by Tolstoy last night and haven't stopped thinking about it since 😃 (😰)

Following up with this chapter about the elements of horror in the text, if anyone is interested!

[tmntmuse]

MUSA AND LEO FIRST DATE 🌷🌸💙 I don't think I've mentioned it here, but this pair is in a relationship (only in this version) and I think they're adorable together 🌻🥺

[dungbeatposse]

hey guys

whatever you do, DON’T think about how norah’s character designs include her wearing buskins and having a lyre with several masks and leaves on it, which can be attributed to the melpomene, the muse of tragedy

DON’T think about it :’)

[sugarpasteltmnt]

trying to work on this chapter when i just want to get to the REALLY FUN CHAPTER

[thiscoldheart]

"If you muck me about, Dexter.."

"I won't."

"No, I mean it. If you lead me on, or let me down, or go behind my back, I will murder you. I swear to God, I will eat your heart."

ONE DAY (1.12)

[kaylorlore]

✨The Golden Muse

End Game -

“It’s like your eyes are

liquor, it’s like your

body is *gold*”

So It Goes… -

“*Gold* cage, hostage

to my feelings”

Dancing With Our Hands Tied -

“My love had been frozen

deep blue, but you

painted me *golden*”

Dress -

“Made your mark on me,

a *golden* tattoo”

Daylight -

“I once believed love

would be burning red

but its *golden*”

Invisible String -

“One single thread of

*gold* tied me to you”

Gold Rush -

“I don’t like

a *gold* rush”

[melanthaeunomia]

Does anyone else get the urge to write the ending to their favorite unfinished fanfic no? Just me?

[tervaneula]

Guess who has yet another new WIP!!!!!! Yes it me. Anyway. Communication my beloved<3

[reddamselette]

photographer jason grace who has a habit of taking pictures of leo whenever he doesn’t expect it. leo has never seen the photos, jason pretends to have deleted them but in reality, he’s developed the photos and he has them tucked away into an album among many. he’s been taking photos of leo since he was able to handle a camera.

jason thinks that of everything he's captured, of every sunset and sunrise, every field and every snowstorm, every strike of lightning and glass covered in rain, each scene with his friends hanging out; leo valdez is the best muse anyone could ever ask for