#apolo

[weenwem]

Apolo

God of light

[viejospellejos]

Trayectorias de la Artemis II vs. Apolo XI y Apolo XIII:

[delicate-sketch]

i want to make a freudian joke

[poectiny]

Moodboard inspirado em Apolo ☀️

𓄼 🔥 ꧇ 𝐁✷𝐑𝐍 ‹ ᥙᥒdᥱr › 𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎’𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ♆

♪♪♪ㅤ᥉᥆ᥒg᥉ㅤ᥆fㅤthᥱㅤ𝐒𝐔𝐍ㅤ☀️

🏛ㅤ𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐒,ㅤf᥆rᥱ᥎ᥱrㅤ𖦹ㅤ@MOY

❛ ՙㅤ☀️ㅤ꧇ㅤ𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃ㅤ‹ ᥆f ›ㅤ 𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎ㅤ♆

🔥ㅤ᥉᥆ᥣᥲrㅤfιrᥱㅤ&ㅤᥲᥒᥴιᥱᥒtㅤ𝐏𝐑✷𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐘

🏛ㅤ𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐂𝐄ㅤιᥒㅤmᥡㅤbᥣ᥆᥆dㅤ⚜ㅤ@MOY

Links:

https://ㅤ✦ㅤ𝟏.𝟗𝟖ㅤ𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎ㅤ𝐒𝐎𝐍ㅤ☀️

https://ㅤ✷ㅤ𝟏.𝟗𝟖ㅤ𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑ㅤ𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑ㅤ🔥

https://ㅤ❛ㅤ𝟏.𝟗𝟖ㅤ𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐒ㅤ☀️ㅤ𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃ㅤ

https://ㅤ⬪ㅤ𝟏.𝟗𝟖ㅤ𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍ㅤ𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐒ㅤ🏛

H.names:

𝐄𝐂𖣠𝐒

𝐀𝐍𝐓⋆𝐈𝐆𝐎

𝐌𝐀‌𝐑𝐌𝑶𝐑𝐄

༡. 𝐂𖣠𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐀𝐒

◖⠀ּ⠀𝐀𝐋𝐌𝐀⠀ׅ⠀۫

𝑳𝑼𝒁

𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𖣠

𝐂𝐀𝐋﹔𝐌𝐀

𝐅𝐋𝐔 ♆ 𝐗𝐎

⚠️ Permito alterações nos emojis, altura e troca de “daughter” por “son”.

Caso use, dar créditos para @poectiny no IG.

[tetra28]

Apollo and the Raven

Apollo has many stories, and one of his myths that I find particularly interesting is the myth of Coronis. In short, it could be said that, oddly enough, Apollo has bad luck in romantic relationships. A raven, which at that time had white plumage, brought him the gossip of his partner's infidelity, and Apollo decided to make the "intelligent" decision to punish the poor raven, turning it into a symbol of bad omen.

In this drawing, I wanted to represent Apollo's connection with the raven, as a messenger of the god of prophecy, one who foretells bad news.

[msbunnat]

Young Apolo~

[capi-art]

APOLLO-🌞☁️

It's just a rough design. I'll see when I bring you the full design

It's a demo

I'm not sure yet whether to leave this base design to Apollo

[vesselloverr]

(Random self insert self indulgent thing… Ilo and Kinger have a father daughter relationship :3 sorry if it’s a bit ooc, I’m not amazing at writing in character)

Inside the pillow fort, the only place both Kinger and Ilo could think clearly, they both talked, but eventually the questions Ilo’s mind were plagued with ended up surfacing in the conversation.

Ilo: is it weird… that I miss… I miss the people that hurt me?

Kinger: I don’t think so.

Ilo: It just… there’s this… hole—? I don’t — I don’t even know, I just…

Ilo pauses, her feathery hands wrap around her body in a pseudo hug, attempting to ease the discomfort she felt, suppose the one perk of having wings is they can act like blankets.

Ilo: I feel like, after I lost them, even though what they did to me was so… so awful… I feel, I feel like I have this hole left where they were…

Kinger thinks for a moment, considering what to say — what would even help.

Kinger: It’s natural to feel that way, no matter who they were, they took a piece of you… you’re not missing them… you’re missing the piece they took.

Ilo looks down mostly to hide the tears that started to form in her eyes. She really didn’t like being vulnerable, especially here, but she just wasn’t able to not say how she felt, it felt safe here, in some strange way. The pillows were carefully stacked, but the inside felt a lot more spacious, not to mention the cracks between the pillows, where the light from the harsh outside world came through, looked almost like stars. If stars made you feel a little dizzy just by looking at them.

Kinger — despite his usual unawareness, caught onto the silence Ilo refused to break. So he continued

Kinger: Even without those pieces, you’re still a whole person. You know that? I know when we’re out there, neither of us can really remember much, but when you visit me in here. When we get to talk…

Ilo peers at him, the tears weren’t really being hidden well, but Kinger didn’t mention it.

Kinger: I can tell that you’re a whole person. You’re a sweet person at that. One that doesn’t deserve what we’re going through — not that any of us do, of course.

The silence remained, all that could be heard was the very subtle sniffles from Ilo, who was trying her best to avoid the self made shame of crying.

Kinger: If you think about it — our own self perception is like looking into one of those funhouse mirrors. All wobbly and strange… sure you can see yourself, you can understand that that’s you in the reflection… but it’s wrong. It’s not what other people see.

Kinger: You see the pieces you lost, and instead of seeing yourself, you see a broken version, but…

Kinger moves closer, carefully as to not startle her. He hesitates as he holds his hand out, but after a moment he places it on her shoulder in a comforting gesture. Ilo jumps slightly, and looks at him, startled, but upon no sign of danger, she relaxes, sniffling again.

Kinger: Nobody else sees that, we all see someone who’s strong, and who’s trying their best, just like everyone else in this circus… You are not broken beyond repair…

With the comforting presence, and his words, Ilo couldn’t hold back the sobs. She moves forward and hugs Kinger, she was shaking with all of the emotions she had been bottling up for who knows how long at this point, the constant state of dissociation, the loss, the emptiness, it all came crashing down and she clung to the only form of comfort she had. She had never exactly felt what ‘fatherly care’ would be, but when Kinger patted her on the back, letting her cry, the supportive words he gave. It was like she finally had at least a small semblance of it. She closed her eyes, for once just letting herself cry.

Kinger: When my wife abstracted, it took a big piece of me… I felt… it was my fault, in a way… I dragged her into this… stupidly…

He paused looking at Ilo for a moment

Kinger: I talk to you, and I feel like I have a piece of my family back. Not her, but…

Ilo looks up at him, her feathers on her face now wet with tears that continued to fall, he gave her a comforting look, a smile, even though he had no mouth.

Kinger: A daughter. And, in a way, I think she would feel the same way about you.

He paused, thinking of what he’d say next

Kinger: And, I know that if I had a daughter, and she turned out like you, I’d be proud of her, because I’m proud of you, Ilo…

Ilo was stunned for a moment, the concept of a father figure being proud of her was so foreign she almost assumed it was a joke, but that thought was pushed away when she saw that he meant what he said, and, of course, she cried again. Before very weakly managing to speak again, between sobs.

Ilo: M…My dad would… have… would’ve never said that… to me… he… sniffle—

Kinger lightly shook his head and patted her again, preventing her from spiraling.

Kinger: I’ve learned the hard way that some fathers will never see the wonderful people their children are. Don’t take his failings as your own, Ilo…

Ilo nodded, trying to take his words in before the seeds of self doubt corrupted the genuine nature of them. It worked halfway… but, enough to feel marginally better. Only now she was exhausted, her previously very tight grip on his cloak had lessened. Kinger continued to lightly pat her back as the sniffling died down.

Kinger: Have I ever told you about how my wife got me into Entomology?

Ilo: …No

Kinger: Would you like to?

Ilo: …Sure…

Kinger: Well — I used to not like bugs! At all! But one day…

As Kinger spoke, Ilo laid down on one of the pillows, the story acted as a sort of bedtime story. She closed her eyes and for the first time since joining the circus… finally felt safe.

After that, even in the light, Ilo referred to Kinger as ‘dad’, and Kinger referred to her as a daughter. Jax was really the only one who found it stupid, but seeing how Ilo seemed to not be as completely dissociated… he for once decided to not comment too much on it.