#APOLLO HEAR MY PRAYERS!!

[meowdyjac]

I HAVE A PREDICTION ON THE

Mario & Luigi Series

Come 2026 when the next Mario movie comes out, there will be a NEW GAME for either the switch or the new console!

[yourwitchybrother]

Gods give me the strength I need to get through the week 🙏 Praise be and all that jazz

[thechthonicherbalist]

A Prayer

My Lord Apollo, Lord of the Sun, of Dance and Music, of Poetry and Art, of Herbs and Flowers and Healing, Protector of Seers and Bringer of the Light that illuminates the Future, Greatest Player of the Lyre, Greatest of Archers, Upholder of Justice and Averter of Evil. Please hear my call. Illuminate this night and ward of the darkness that seeks to invade my thoughts and emotions. Lend me your light and bring joy and warmth back to my life. Let the spring of my creativity well up once again, so it may bring to flourish art and writing as it once used to. Heal what has been wounded in me, cure what has been infested by the sickness brought into my life. Heal my body, this pain, this fatigue, that plagues me. These fevers and inflammations. Hold me in your protective and healing embrace and guide my path towards a brighter future. Let your song fill my life, let it ring from my lips in passion, in joy, in beautiful emotions. And please, keep safe my heart and my soul; these most vulnerable parts of me, that endured so much and need a gentle healer's touch, to wake up and mend. Don't let go of me, be with me every step of the way. I do not know where I'm heading, so I want to trust you, to guide me to safety, light and warmth and joy, to a place of healing. 🌄

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: The Sun

Aleister Crowley: and now as we approach the winter solstice Crowley: great god apollo, great master brain thinker guy thoth Crowley: all the little thelematic sprites and boggles Crowley: now is the time that the great beast says Crowley: DO AS THOU WILT!! Crowley: I'M THE GREAT BEAST!!!

Crowley: now that its the winter solstice Crowley: its time to pay tribute to the spirits of the season Victor Neuburg: how're we gonna do that boss? Crowley: we're gonna eat this big block of hashish and fuck Crowley: love to keep the holiday traditions alive

Crowley: great sun god ra, hear our prayers and Lauren M Davis: [appearing in a flash] who dares call upon my fiery majesty? Davis: whom the egyptians named ra, the greeks named apollo, the aztecs named Huitzilopochtli? Davis: as the duly noted owner of the sun, that is infringing on my intellectual property Crowley: your...? Crowley: oh man i am too high for this right now

Lauren M Davis: since the dawn of time, mankind has yearned to destroy the sun Davis: i do the next best thing Davis: i own it! Davis: as surely as disney owns day of the dead Davis: as surely as family guy owns double dribble Davis: as surely as snapesnogger owns nagas Davis: i will copyright the sun!

Davis: Gaze upon the fiery majesty of the sun ©!!! Davis: NO on second thought, don't! Davis: no one look at me! Davis: you! plants! Davis: you dare to photosynesize with my holy rays?? Davis: I hope you got a good lawyer

Crowley: you can't own the sun Crowley: the sun is Crowley: Crowley: its Crowley: its you know Crowley: it's Victor Neuburg: its a star isn't it? Crowley: SHUT UP NERDBURG I KNOW WHAT THE SUN IS Crowley: I WAS JUST Crowley: I WAS JUST PAUSING FOR EFFECT OR SOMETHING Crowley: I DON'T EVEN LIKE YOU AT ALL, JUST SHUT UP!

[childofapollo888]

oh, healer apollo,

god of sunlight, god of music,

hear this prayer .

let me feel the warmth of your sun's rays,

let me be healed from the sickness that burdens my mortal body .

lord apollo, keep away ill,

banish it & let me heal .

i honor & praise you,

so mote it be ☀️

[pain-is-too-tired]

We were robbed of any mentions of Michael or Lee in Toa.

I know Apollo was struggling with memory issues, but I refuse to believe he didn't at least once think about all the kids he lost in the Titan War

He gave Michael the arrows!!! He interacted at least once to do so!!! We could've gotten so much cool angst from it.

But of course most of the focus was on his failed love lifes.

Which sucks, because one the biggest other times he was turned mortal was because he snapped after the death of his son. One son!!!

I think his grief over his other kids should've been bigger part of his character. Especially with not only human emotions, but teenage human emotions.

Like, iirc he says something about feeling sorry about helping kill Achilles? Which??? No! He killed your son!! Maybe even two of your sons!!(i believe at least Tenes is canonically his son in pjo, I'm not sure if pjoverse counts Troilus being son of Apollo or just Priam-) you should not feel bad!! Especially if him killing Troilus in your temple is the version that actually occurred in pjo. I'd stick to my choices on that one. If Achilles didn't want to die maybe don't assault and behead a god's son IN HIS TEMPLE. Not just that, but the god that you seen absolutely wreck an whole army over the daughter of one of his priests. How you think he'd react over his son(s)???

Anyway. Apollo being absolutely protective over his kids and Meg even more so cause of his emotions. Him struggling with grief over his kids. Maybe him remembering hearing their last prayers and hymns. Maybe those haunting him at night just-

Apollo grieving all over again over his lost children. Thinking about them, their mortal parents, what ever he could recall of them.

[mediumgayitalian]

The slam of his car door is loud enough to make him jump, echoing across the dipping valleys and proud hills. He curses to himself, standing frozen, one, two, three, four, but no one comes running. A light dusting of snow falls in a perfect circle around an invisible border, and Lee shivers as he jogs over to it, worn sneakers squelching over the wet, half-thawed grass.

As soon as he steps onto the bottom of Half-Blood Hill, he feels the difference, the balmy breath of warm summer under the clear December sky. The power of Thalia’s tree sends its usual shiver down his back, and he touches it, briefly, as he speeds past, sending his usual prayer of thanks. He pauses at the crest of the hill, using the bright gibbous moon to survey the camp, marking his path.

“Two, four….twelve,” he mutters to himself, craning his neck to map every one of the patrol harpies. He crouches for a while, watching them, tracking their patrol: paired, hexagonal, staggered circuits around the cabins. Four minute window of opportunity.

He can do four minutes.

As the two harpies walking the Apollo-Artemis circuit begin to cross the common, Lee bolts. He keeps low and close to the shadows, sprinting fast and on the balls of his feet to stay quiet, and ducks behind whatever shadow is closest whenever something looks his way. By the time the harpies turn back towards Cabin Seven, he’s already on the rickety porch, tossing his backpack inside the window Michael left open for him and throwing himself in after it.

He lands palms-first, tucking into a roll to absorb the momentum. He freezes, panting, by the leg of what is usually Amir’s bed, straining to hear past the crickets and cicadas.

One, two, three, four.

Nothing.

He’s good.

“Took your damn sweet time, didn’t you.”

“Hello to you too,” Lee grumbles, pushing himself upright. From across the cabin, lounging on his bed like a goddamn French monarch, is his dick of a brother, grinning like the little shit he is. “Haven’t seen you in weeks, most people say hello, et cetera, et cetera.”

Michael shrugs. “You’re late. I watched you on the hill; you coulda made that run twenty minutes ago.”

“Nobody asked you.”

“I’m always asking me.”

“Get over her, boogerbrain.”

“Real mature,” Michael mocks, but ambles over anyway. He retches like a twelve year old when Lee hugs him, but twists his hands in the back of Lee’s shirt when he lets go too fast. Lee hides his smile in his over-gelled hair.

“You might miss me less if you actually write me letters, you know.”

“I didn’t miss you,” he responds automatically. “And I wouldn’t have to write you letters if you stayed home, already.”

Lee sighs. “…I have school, Michael.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m sure your dumbass bio teachers have loads to teach the guy who can do open heart surgery with his eyes closed.”

“Yeah, yeah. If anyone could do with a good, old-fashioned, public school humbling, it would be you, hothead. You ready to go?”

Michael pulls away with a roll of his eyes. “Only since yesterday. Been waiting for your sorry ass.”

“My sorry — your sorry ass doesn’t have a car!”

Michael snickers, jogging back to his bunk and grabbing the black duffel bag resting under it. Lee makes quick work of packing his own bag, stuffing in a couple squares of ambrosia and and giant roll of bandages, just in case, before creeping over to the only bed left with someone still in it.

“Hey, kiddo.” He folds over the sheet pulled all the way over messy blonde curls, immediately plaguing the cabin with loud snoring. He rests his palm over a sleep-creased cheek, mapping his thumb over the freckles dotting pudgy cheekbones, and brushes back the hair plastered to his baby brother’s forehead. “Will, sweetheart, get up.”

It takes him a couple minutes of gentle prodding — when Will is out he is out — to wake up, squinting blearily in the dim fairy lights strewn across his bunk. He blinks, one, two, three, four, then gasps.

“Lee!”

“Oof,” Lee grunts, shifting his weight as he is abruptly accosted with an armful of child. He smiles, curling around Will’s flailing, chattering form, tightening his hold on his waist and resting his forehead on his shoulder. “Hi, buddy.”

“—missed you so much! Is this why your letter was late? Are you staying? Is this why Diana left yesterday? Is she here now? Is Cass coming? Is everybody coming? Can I —”

“C’mon, Motormouth,” Michael interrupts, cuffing Will’s ear as he walks by. “Go get your sneakers on. We’re going for a drive.”

“‘Kay,” Will days happily, dashing off to find the light-up Star Wars shoes he refuses to throw out, even though there are literal holes in the soles.

“You got his bag?”

“Yep,” Michael affirms, holding up a straining backpack. “Toothbrush. Hairbrush that he won’t use. Three comic books. Change of clothes. And two more changes of clothes for when he inevitably destroys the first one,” he adds when Lee opens his mouth. He shoots him an exasperated look. “Me and Diana have been chasing after the little brat for four months, dude. I got him.”

“Alright, alright,” Lee grumbles. “Heaven forbid I double-check.” He turns over to the door, where Will is tying his shoelaces, tongue peeking out of his mouth. “You ready, Will?”

He tugs on the two loops. The entire knot unravels. Quick as a flash, he stuffs the laces inside his shoes, scrambling to his feet.

“Yes,” he lies. He scratches at his throat.

Lee and Michel sigh in unison.

Luckily, the reaction is hardly more than itchy eyes and a cough. Lee herds him towards the door, sliding the backpack over his shoulders and holding out his arm and —

“Hold on a sec.”

“Why?” Will whispers.

“Shh,” Lee says.

Window cracked open, Michael exhales. The release of his bow hardly makes more than a soft hiss.

The angle is odd, limited space as there is, but Michael never misses — the clunky arrow whistles through the open window, sailing past the sloped roofs of the west wing cabins, and thunks somewhere behind the first layer of trees in the forest. Immediately, it lets loose a burst of sound identical to a dropped bottle and a group of teenagers cursing. In seconds, the curfew harpies are screeching, descending upon the source of the noise with the fury of a thousand sun chariots.

“Go go go go go,” Michael orders, wrenching open the door.

Will, immediately, takes off, gleeful at the opportunity to run away with permission (usually, he’s running from one of them, screeching at him to get back here). (Or Chiron, although Chiron has a much easier time catching up, what with the six limbs and all). (…Is Chiron an insect? Technically?)

“How long do we have?” Lee whispers, once Michael has caught up.

He shrugs. “Seven minutes, give or take? More than enough time.”

Lee worries his bottom lip. “More than…” He glances at the forest. Vaguely, in the low firelight, he can see the odd wing, hear the odd screech. Nothing looks very close. He glances at the rapidly approaching Athena cabin, just a few yards out of their way. Hm.

“Detour!” he decides. “Will, c’mon!”

Ignoring Michael’s hissed complaints, he veers towards to neatly maintained cabin. He slips in the space between Cabins Six and Four, holding tight to Will’s hand. He counts the windows as he passes — one, two, three, four — and stumbles to a stop, crouching down in the dirt.

“Oh, are you — for the love of Zeus.”

Lee ignores his eye-rolling, scanning the ground for pebbles. He selects a handful of them, careful not to choose anything too big, and jogs a few steps back.

“What’re you doing?” Will asks, too loud, but at least he tries to whisper.

Instead of answering, Lee launches the first pebble at the window.

It pings off harmlessly.

Waiting a breath for the harpies to come running, he continues, firing off pebble after pebble with increasing strength. Finally, after pebble #7, a face appears behind the clear glass, bleary eyes widening when they take in the sight in front of them. Quickly, the latches are undone, and the window is yanked open.

“Lee?!”

Lee grins. “Hey, Carter.”

“What’re you — you’re — it’s December! What’s going —”

“I need a favour,” Lee whispers. “Can you — cover for us?”

For the first time, Carter looks away, brows raising as he notices Micheal, who taps his (watchless) wrist obnoxiously, and Will, who waves brightly. Carter waves back, small smile tugging at his lips.

“Cover for you?”

“Just, like, infirmary stuff. I don’t think anything will happen, and if it does we’re an IM away, but —”

“Lee,” Carter says exasperatedly, “cover you guys for what?”

“Oh.” Lee clears his throat. “I, um. I need to do something for my family.”

Smiling, Carter rests his elbows on the windowsill, chin in his hands. “Mysterious.”

“We’ll be back by tomorrow evening,” Lee assures.

“And then you’ll stay for a bit?”

Lee’s mouth goes dry. “You want me to stay?”

Carter ducks his head, fingers tracing a mindless path on the windowsill. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you for a while.”

A thousand gods of prophecy could not predict the sound that comes out of Lee’s throat.

Something between a whimper and an awkward laugh, his voice cracks four seperate times. Carter giggles. Lee prays, genuinely, that a crater opens up beneath him and drops him right at Lord Hades’ feet.

“Everything okay, Lee?”

“Peachy,” he croaks.

Carter giggles again. Lee flushes. Michael gags exaggeratedly behind him, pausing mid-heave to whisper something to Will, and then there’s a giggle, and then two people fake-retching. Carter peeks through his dark eyelashes, pleased expression softening his heart-shaped face, and Lee counts twelve of his own capillaries straight-up explode.

“Well,” he says, too loudly. “I’m — well.”

“I think you have harpies to run from,” Carter suggests gently.

“Indeed.” Lee clears his throat, nodding. “As you have so astutely observed, we do —”

Michael, recognising the strained tone to his voice, groans. “Fucksake, Lee —”

“— and so I bid you adieu —”

“Dude, oh my gods, snap out of it —”

Lee can’t. He barely has control over his own mouth.

“— and vow to see you again in the eve.”

Feeling his soul exit his body, settle in front of him, and then crumple up and die, Lee fucking bows. There is the very distinctive sound of a hand slapping over a mouth, muffling an eruption of giggles, and then the hand of mercy, also known as Michael Yew, clamping on the back of his lava-hot neck.

“Please excuse him,” he says grandly. “He was dropped on his head as a child. He’s normal, usually.”

“Except when you wear your glasses,” Will pipes up. Lee makes a mental note to find Clarisse’s spear and shove it through his own eye. “He gets real weird when you wear your glasses. Once he walked into a wall and broke his nose.”

“…Did he.”

“Yep. And last time he —”

“God, this hurts me to say,” whispers Michael, “but I have to put a stop to this conversation. We’re on a time limit. C’mon, Will. Bye, Carter. Sorry for — well, you know. Apollonian dramatics, not always easy to control.”

He turns, dragging Lee, still hunched over, out of the Cabin Six shadow.

Lee does not un-hunch until they are well over the crest of Half-Blood Hill, harpy screeches beginning to echo behind them.

“I have never been more embarrassed to be related to you in my life,” Michael informs him, the second he’s upright. “Like, genuinely, I’m considering disowning you. That was atrocious, Fletcher. You need to get ahold of yourself. Where is your game? Your dignity?”

“I think he lost it when he was born,” Will says thoughtfully. “Or maybe when Carter smiled at him the first time.”

“I hate both of you,” Lee croaks.

Neither of them seem too incredibly bothered, snickering to each other as they duck into the car.

Willing his flush to go down, Lee herds them into his car. He takes a moment in the cool air to chill the hell out, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, then slips behind the wheel. He checks that Will is belted in properly, slips the car into neutral, and coasts down the road, waiting until Thalia’s tree slips out of sight before turning it on and hitting the gas.

“Where’re we goin’?

“You,” Michael says, flipping down the vanity mirror to glare sternly at Will, “are going to dreamland. It’s three in the morning. Time for bratty children to sleep.”

“What? No! I’m not tired!”

“Fine, fine,” Lee says, exchanging a grin with Michael. “Stay awake, then. As long as you like.”

Will narrows his eyes. “Really?”

“Yep.”

“No trick?”

Lee crosses his fingers. “‘Course not.”

“Fine,” he relents. He settles into the booster seat Lee dragged out of the trunk for him (which he hates), arms crossed over his chest, and stares out the window.

Counting off on his fingers — one, two, three, four — Lee and Michael begin to hum.

At first, nothing happens. Will taps absentmindedly on his knees, humming along to the parts he knows, but soon his fingers slow. Lee and Michael keep it low and quiet, cycling through quiet folk songs Michael’s dad taught him, matching with the rumbling of the car, the slight breeze of Lee’s cracked open window. Michael kicks softly at the base of his seat, one, two, three, four; and matches the rhythm of the radio static, the click of the blinkers on every turn.

Will’s out in twenty minutes.

———

The drive is long.

Michael curls up sometime around four, fogging up the windows with every snore. Lee keeps the radio on a low hum, letting the background noise keep him focused as he navigates. The Atlantic Ocean is ink-black in the early morning, and the waves crash loud enough that he can hear them over the sounds of the engine, and for a while they’re still far enough from the city that the air smells fresh. Even when it starts to sour, and the noise gets a lot more urban, it’s early enough and he’s east enough that the traffic is minimal. Never non-existent — he actually cannot imagine what a traffic-less New York would look like; he doubts he’ll ever live to see it — but enough that he keeps at a steady 35.

The drive through Jersey is uneventful. Farmland and suburbs, nothing he hasn’t seen every day of his life, nothing he didn’t see the last time he made the drive. He entertains himself by counting every brown car he sees, randomly wagering the number by the time he gets there. He’s relieved when he finally crosses the memorial bridge, driving down the exit ramp and pulling into the first big parking lot he sees. Michael wakes up as he puts the car in gear, killing the engine.

“We here?” he asks, popping the joints along his spine.

Lee yawns. “Pretty much, yeah. Pulled off the highway.”

“‘Kay.” He glances in the backseat, where Will is starting to stir. “You nap. I’m gonna find a place for him to change and brush his teeth, maybe get breakfast for all of us.”

“Sounds good”

He crawls in the backseat as Michael guides Will out of it, accepting the blanket tossed his way. He slides his hoodie over his face, lies back, and conks out in minutes.

———

“Yo, Lee. Get up. I got food.”

“Timizzit?” he asks, shaking the grogginess from his limbs.

“Eleven. You slept for four hours. We gotta be at the theatre in an hour.”

“When’s she on?”

“Fuck if I know, man. Diana said noon, I’m gonna be there at noon. You wanna piss off Diana?”

“No.” He rubs the heel of his palm into his eyes, reaching blindly in the direction of Michael’s voice. “Food, please.”

A bag of grease is deposited into his waiting hand. He is pleased to find three cheeseburgers within it, and immediately tears into them with a fervour that can only be described as ‘ravenous’, or perhaps ‘revolting’. Esurient, perhaps, if one was feeling poetic.

Finally awake enough to function, Lee looks critically at the scene in front of him. Michael is dressed in the same button-up and slacks he wears to his dad’s performances, on the years he’s in the U.S., and Will is in jeans without grass stains, real shoes, hair mostly brushed. Michael has even managed to find a shirt that’s not half-unraveled from Will picking at the seams.

“Nice,” he says, nodding in approval.

Michael picks at his nails, visibly preening. “Oh, it was no big deal.”

“Yeah, yeah. Dweeb.”

He polishes off his last burger, then ducks inside the nearest store to find somewhere to get changed. Diana told them it didn’t matter, really, what they wore, but Lee knows better. He knows what this means for Cass, and while yeah, sure, it wouldn’t really matter if he showed up in sweatpants, he wants to show her that he put in the effort. That even if her mother couldn’t, or wouldn’t, they will. All of them. He wants her to see them and know that they did this for her. He wants her to see them and know that they tried, that they care.

Hair perfectly placed and clothes as unwrinkled as he can get them, he hurries back to the car. The theatre isn’t far, and they have a little under an hour, but he doesn’t want to push it. Finding parking will be hard enough.

“Are we on a quest?” Will asks, five minutes out on the road.

“Eight year olds don’t go on quests.”

“Diomedes was ten when he fought the Trojan war.”

“Are you Diomedes?”

“No.”

“Are you ten?”

“No.”

“Then no quests for you.”

“Aw.”

“Your quest can be being quiet for twenty minutes,” Michael grumbles, making a face when Will sticks his tongue out at him.

———

part two

[apiswitchcraft]

orphic hymns to apollo and diana

i should mention that i did NOT write these!! they are from like the 1st century AD lol

APOLLO:

Blest Pæan, come, propitious to my prayer, illustrious power, whom Memphian tribes revere,

Slayer of Tityus, and the God of health, Lycorian Phœbus, fruitful source of wealth.

Spermatic, golden-lyred, the field from thee receives it's constant, rich fertility.

Titanic, Grunian, Smynthian, thee I sing, Python-destroying, hallowed, Delphian king:

Rural, light-bearer, and the Muse's head, noble and lovely, armed with arrows dread:

Far-darting, Bacchian, two-fold, and divine, power far diffused, and course oblique is thine.

O, Delian king, whose light-producing eye views all within, and all beneath the sky:

Whose locks are gold, whose oracles are sure, who, omens good reveals, and precepts pure:

Hear me entreating for the human kind, hear, and be present with benignant mind;

For thou surveys this boundless æther all, and every part of this terrestrial ball

Abundant, blessed; and thy piercing sight, extends beneath the gloomy, silent night;

Beyond the darkness, starry-eyed, profound, the stable roots, deep fixed by thee are found.

The world's wide bounds, all-flourishing are thine, thyself all the source and end divine:

'Tis thine all Nature's music to inspire, with various-sounding, harmonizing lyre;

Now the last string thou tuned to sweet accord, divinely warbling now the highest chord;

The immortal golden lyre, now touched by thee, responsive yields a Dorian melody.

All Nature's tribes to thee their difference owe, and changing seasons from thy music flow

Hence, mixed by thee in equal parts, advance Summer and Winter in alternate dance;

This claims the highest, that the lowest string, the Dorian measure tunes the lovely spring.

Hence by mankind, Pan-royal, two-horned named, emitting whistling winds through Syrinx famed;

Since to thy care, the figured seal is consigned, which stamps the world with forms of every kind.

Hear me, blessed power, and in these rites rejoice, and save thy mystics with a suppliant voice.

DIANA:

Hear me, Jove's daughter, celebrated queen, Bacchian and Titan, of a noble mien:

In darts rejoicing and on all to shine, torch-bearing Goddess, Dictynna divine;

Over births presiding, and thyself a maid, to labor-pangs imparting ready aid:

Dissolver of the zone and wrinkled care, fierce huntress, glorying in the Sylvan war:

Swift in the course, in dreadful arrows skilled, wandering by night, rejoicing in the field:

Of manly form, erect, of bounteous mind, illustrious dæmon, nurse of human kind:

Immortal, earthly, bane of monsters fell, 'tis thine; blest maid, on woody hills to dwell:

Foe of the stag, whom woods and dogs delight, in endless youth who flourish fair and bright.

O, universal queen, august, divine, a various form, Cydonian power, is thine:

Dread guardian Goddess, with benignant mind auspicious, come to mystic rites inclined

Give earth a store of beauteous fruits to bear, send gentle Peace, and Health with lovely hair,

And to the mountains drive Disease and Care.

Dividers by @vibeswithrenai

[undeadmagick]

Khaire, Apollo Musagetes! Patron of the arts, son of the heavenly Zeus and the gentle-natured Leto, with the works of art I have dedicated to you, grant me the inspiration to create more in your name. Guide my hand across the canvas and allow your golden beauty to be reflected in the sight. I pray to you for the gift of the arts to be enjoyed and celebrated, to have my work spoken with reverence. Warm-hearted and gifted Phoebus, hear my prayer and look kindly upon me and know how I praise and honor you so.

[lesforhalloween]

𖤓 Devotional Prayer to Apollo

Oh great Apollo,

Bringer of light,

How your rays shine and warm my home.

Let your warm presence fill the air,

My ever perfect god,

Son of Zeus, son of Leto,

brother of Artemis,

and lover of many.

From the tale of Hyacinthus,

to the story of Daphne,

to your involvement in Troy,

your stories shine splendid,

inspiring all those who hear them.

Inspire me. Guide me. Awe me.

~Tales of a golden god

[allarica]

"To Apollo, come, propitious to my prayer, illustrious power, and the god of healing, golden-lyred, the field from thee receives its constant rich fertility. To thee I sing, Python-Slayer, hallowed, light-bearing Leader of the Muses, noble and lovely, armed with arrows dread: far-darting, twofold and divine, power far diffused, and course oblique is thine. O king, whose light-producing eye views all within, and all beneath the sky; whose locks are gold, whose oracles are sure, who omens good revealest, and precepts pure; Hear me, blest power, and in these rites rejoice"

Part 8/? of Allarica’s Greek Gods

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[lenaslittleworld]

Laurel sonnet #1

Oh, you of the silver bow!

Hear my prayer, hear my call.

Your gentle love is all I know.

Shine your light into my soul.

Oh you, who plays the divine lyre!

Keep me healthy, make me strong.

I’ll be honest, never liar,

I’ll worship you with every song.

I hope you fond of sonnets are,

my sweetest lord, my burning star.

I give you this one filled with love,

may it reach you far above.

I praise you today and tomorrow,

my dear lord, my sweet Apollo.

[bardsources]

𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 : 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕠𝕕𝕪𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕪 [ 𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟟 ]

from the robert fagles translation.

❝ I’m off to town to present myself to mother. ❞ ❝ My mind’s weighed down with troubles. ❞ ❝ I like to tell the truth and tell it straight. ❞ ❝ I’ve no desire, myself, to linger here. ❞ ❝ I’m hardly fit, at my age. ❞ ❝ Don’t move me to tears, don’t stir the heart inside me. ❞ ❝ I’ve just escaped from death. ❞ ❝ Promise the gods a generous sacrifice to bring success. ❞ ❝ All bark and no bite from the vicious mutt! ❞ ❝ Just let Apollo shoot [Name] down with his silver bow. ❞ ❝ Don’t linger long. ❞ ❝ I’ve had my share of pain in the waves and wars. ❞ ❝ Ah, but he’s run out of luck now, poor fellow… ❞ ❝ How kind you are to me, kind as a father to his son! ❞ ❝ I’d even urge you on. ❞ ❝ You look like a king to me! ❞ ❝ No sense in your head to match your handsome looks. ❞ ❝ I must say what the heart inside me urges. ❞ ❝ Sit there and eat in peace — or go get lost! ❞ ❝ Your fate is sealed if he’s some god from the blue. ❞ ❝ And the gods do take on the look of strangers dropping in from abroad— ❞ ❝ All our foul play, all our fair play too! ❞ ❝ May Apollo the Archer strike you just as hard! ❞ ❝ If only our prayers were granted — then not one of the lot would live to see dawn climb her throne tomorrow! ❞ ❝ I’d like to give him a warm welcome. ❞ ❝ Such stories he tells — he’d charm you to your depths. ❞ ❝ Bring me this stranger now, face-to-face! ❞ ❝ You hear how my son sealed all I said with a sneeze? ❞ ❝ Mark my words, I tell you. ❞ ❝ I know all about that man … ❞ ❝ He tells you to wait here till the sun goes down. ❞ ❝ I’ll tend to all things here. ❞ ❝ Up with you, man, or before you know it, we’ll be trading blows! ❞ ❝ What damage have I done you? ❞ ❝ You’re another vagrant, just like me, I’d say. ❞ ❝ Here’s to your luck, great days from this day on! ❞ ❝ You seem like a man of good sense to me. ❞ ❝ You’re his son, they say, you seem well-spoken, too. ❞ ❝ I too seemed destined to be a man of fortune once. ❞ ❝ Just take in peace what gifts the gods will send. ❞ ❝ Well said, my child. ❞ ❝ But first you should bathe yourself. ❞ ❝ Whatever glow I had died long ago. ❞ ❝ I cannot fault your anger at all this. ❞ ❝ My heart takes note of everything, feels it, too. ❞

[relovaaa]

Sing, o' Muse (of When the Horizon Blooms)

I recently wrote a song about Percy and Apollo using the titles of my favourite Perpollo fics, and I wanted to share it with the people! I'll reblog this in a bit with links to the ones I used.

The Lovers of Apollo Club They say it must be so inclusive But true members are quite elusive Instead of a thousand, there's only, what, three of them? Once I'm done tallying tragedies on my fingers Let's focus on a boy

Too popular for his own good Too powerful for the king's peace of mind Every step he takes, he's asking for disaster But he's his favourite anyway

I never though I'd see the day

Moment by moment, I'm watching the latest Olympian romance bloom Their future is so... bright And as I'm walking through my gardens, I look into the distance and say

Sing, o' Muse Of when the horizon blooms Of when the sun meets the sea Look at this god forsaken fool you made me Singing of a love that isn't even mine

I'm constantly re-reading their chronicled fate They'll love each other more than the ocean and the sky But do you know? That it's not all sappy Tumblr poetry

I'm using the power of a prayer Day in, day out, at an altar for the best god To make sure that their life is like music, vast and magical And there won't be a single day without their light

Moment by moment, I'm watching two broken hearts heal I always pinch myself to make sure it's real For the first time in centuries, I can hear him calling

Sing, o' Muse Of when the horizon blooms Of when the sun meets the sea Look at this god forsaken fool you made me Singing for a boy who'll never be mine

'Tis the season for love I'm by the salt water springs And doing nothing but waiting It's about time for new summer romances, and I'm hoping to fulfill my latest mission...

The boy flows with the currents He's afraid to love like he had once before The god paces back and forth, trying to gather the words But somehow he's become a stuttering mess despite his normal eloquence

Every time they pass each other, there's hope But it's for only sixty seconds They always get too nervous But, one fateful day, I overhear something...

"No more hypotheticals, my love. We only have our future to look forward to." It's nothing more than a whisper, but it rings loud and true

And so the muses sing Of when the horizon bloomed Of when the sun met the sea They've made us into god forsaken fools Singing of a love we could never have

[cherrywine-sunnydiety]

Allow me to tell you a story about a big help I had from the gods a couple months ago.

I was quite tight with money during that time, the holidays had just blown over and I was still recovering, and the bills were stacking to the point I was losing sleep and having anxiety attacks.

Keep in mind I have only started this journey with them not too long before this, so I was a little skeptical that they would help but I was at a point where I was crying and praying with everything in me.

One morning I decided to go to the beach since it isn’t a long drive and before I started driving a sent a quick prayer to Hermes (which I had never done, it was always Apollo) because I remembered he is the god of travel and I wanted to return safely.

Everything was fine that day until I was returning home and I got into a very light car accident (I got rear ended). You can imagine how upset I was. I thought I would have to spend even more money to fix my car and pay the insurance.

Thankfully it was just a scratch and a small dent and when I was figuring it out with the insurance (having severe anxiety because I had never done it before) they told me that I didn’t have to worry, I was going to be paid a generous amount for the crash and that was that.

When I tell you I was so shocked to hear that. I went back home and cried and thanked them for their help. I’ve been worshiping since then.

Now I think Hermes is completely responsible for this but at first I thought it was some twisted joke from Apollo for not praying to him instead of Hermes but it turns out Hermes was just really eager to help me when he heard my first call for him.

[theoccultmoon]

The Basics of Setting up an Altar

Setting up an altar can feel overwhelming, but it doesn't have to be, creating an altar is a deeply personal and spiritual process. It serves as a sacred space for connection, devotion, and intention. Whether you're building your first altar or refining one you've had for a while, the process should feel meaningful and aligned with your unique spiritual path. Every altar is unique because every entity is different! These are general tips to help you if you’re feeling a bit lost, but always remember to adapt them to what feels right for you and the entity you're working with. ♡

‧₊ .ᐟ Cleansing the Space ♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Before setting up your altar, consider cleansing the space and the items you'll include. This can be done in various ways, such as with smoke, sound, or intention. 

 (I will make a more in-depth post about cleansing in the future) If cleansing isn't possible for you right now, don’t stress! Setting your intentions while arranging your altar is more than enough. 

୨ৎBudget-Friendly Approach୨ৎ

As I always say, you do NOT need to spend a fortune to set up an altar. Use what you have at home and work within your means. There’s no need to buy fancy tools or decorations unless you truly want to. 

༺♡༻Symbols, Colors, and Personal Touches༺♡༻

Study the entity you’re dedicating the altar to! research their symbols, colors, animals, objects, and anything else that resonates with them. This will help you brainstorm ideas for what to include. 

For example: 

Hecate: 

Candle colors: Black, purple, or silver to reflect her connection to the underworld, intuition, and magic. 

Objects: Keys, torches, representations of dogs, serpents, or moon symbols. I personally added some unused keys from around my home to her altar. 

Crystals: Obsidian, moonstone, or labradorite to enhance intuition and spiritual protection.

Apollo (Sun God): 

Candle colors: Yellow, gold, or orange to represent his solar energy, creativity, and healing. 

Objects: Lyres, sun symbols, laurel leaves, golden objects (like coins), or representations of swans and crows. 

Crystals: Citrine, sunstone, or amber to amplify his connection to light and vitality.

Poseidon (Sea God): 

Candle colors: Blue or teal to symbolize his domain over water and emotions. 

Objects: Shells, a small jar of ocean water or sand, images of horses, or tridents. 

Crystals: Aquamarine or blue calcite to reflect his oceanic energy. 

Gaia (Earth Goddess): 

Candle colors: Green or brown to connect to her nurturing and grounding energy. 

Objects: Stones, potted plants, herbs, moss, or natural items like twigs. 

Crystals: Moss agate or green aventurine to embody her nurturing and grounding essence. 

ಇ Finally, remember that this is your altar, so include items that resonate with you personally. For example, a cherished photo, a handwritten prayer, or an object that connects you to the entity makes the space even more special and meaningful. 

Take your time, trust your intuition, and enjoy the process. Your altar will grow and evolve as you do, and that’s part of the beauty of this practice. 

You can find more posts like this on my Patreon!

https://www.patreon.com/posts/basics-of-up-116454223?utm_medium=clipboard_copy&utm_source=copyLink&utm_campaign=postshare_creator&utm_content=join_link

✮ Thank you so much for taking the time to read my conten! I truly appreciate your support. I would love to hear about your experiences with setting up your altars. Feel free to share your stories, ideas, or questions; it’s always inspiring to learn from one another! ✮