DOLLFACE

"Heart eater, babe."

[dollface-rot]

𐙚ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤMASTERLIST. 𐙚 ARTFIGHT.

Call me Doll or Dolly :) nicknames are welcome and appreciated! 17yr old artist/writer, alt dresser and chud. ♡ Bigender, They/Them 🏳️‍⚧️ I’m here to eat your heart, babe!!!

ㅤ This is a SIDE BLOG, meaning I cannot LIKE or FOLLOW BACK, however send an inbox if you'd like to be put on my list of mutuals.

Mutuals: i'm so lonely guys :')

[dollface-rot]

First year participant of ARTFIGHT! Feel free to drop by and give my characters a little peek, stay tuned for the lore about them I’ll happily be squealing about! ;>

𐙚ㅤ CURRENT GOAL: REVENGE ANYONE WHO ATTACKS ME!

Feel free to drop your usernames below!

[dollface-rot]

Ship of Theseus: babe ive changed

[dollface-rot]

The thoughts of a People Pleaser.

[randomgreekfandomspals]

I am BEGGING people to learn the difference between Greek mythology and Roman mythology. No, Poseidon didn't rape Medusa. It was Neptune. No, Athena didn't curse Medusa. It was Minerva. In Greek, Medusa was born a gorgon. And I'm certain the relationship she had with Poseidon was consensual.

[dollface-rot]

𐙚ㅤ Historical accuracy is important I agree, but I also think it needs to be acknowledged the cultural impact of the story.

This isn’t to argue any points of what the ‘correct’ story of Medusa is, I just find this particular subject very fascinating and I’m using this as an excuse to talk about it.

Medusa is an absolute figure in modern day, a symbol for women who’ve survived SA, that part is undeniable.

And before anyone comes at me with the ‘but it’s not historically accurate!’, I’m here to suggest that the fact is that… that isn’t the point.

Mythology and myths and stories were used to define lessons in those eras, the myths of Hera punishing Zeus’s lovers whether consensual or not isn’t about preserving a completely accurate representation of the stories or even painting someone as a ‘hero’.

It was about warning others of infidelity, stay loyal to your partner, treat your guests well, or face the wrath of Hera.

By telling the story of Medusa as a victim of Poseidon is just the modern world following in the footsteps of the Greeks and Romans, which is technically the most accurate thing we could be doing.

Following that logic makes every version correct.

Medusa’s story as we know it today represents the struggles of everyday modern women and the violence from men.

This version of the story simply represents modern society, just as the older versions of the myth were shifted to fit the customs of their time.

That’s the point, that is what art is for, it’s for emotional depth and humanity.

I’m not saying the old and ‘accurate’ versions of Medusa’s myth shouldn’t be recognised, but focusing solely on the accuracy of the words and details misses the entire point all together.

You could spent forever upset and cross about how accurate it is, but at that point the meaning of the argument to begin with just ceases.

[dollface-rot]

𐙚ㅤ Percy getting absolutely smited during a battle and the only way to save him is to bring him back as a child.

Not to be mistaken for de-aging spell, Percy still remembers everything.

But so does his body, his young body who’d already grown so rigid and stressed under the ‘care’ of Smelly Gabe.

His life would quickly fall into shambles, NRU college was definitely thrown for a loop when a tiny seven year old rushed into the lecture hall; and he’d rather not talk about Annabeth right now.

But he couldn’t go to his father, not like this.

Going to Hermes, then Apollo, grappling for any kind of cure only made the stone sink deeper into his stomach with day that passed with more and more evidence this was permanent.

It’s as if two voices are constantly fighting in his mind, the one of adult Perseus who’d faced down both Gaia and Kronos himself.

And the other being a scared, lonely child who’d fallen asleep to drunken hollers from the living room each night.

Of course this isn’t exactly easy to break to his father, he didn’t even want to imagine his reaction.

Perhaps deep down he feared that Poseidon would lose interest the moment he wasn’t the glorious soldier who could fight any battle on his behalf.

The other voice whispered that daddy was still lost at sea, and Gabe was right when he said it was because Percy was bad.

But Poseidon couldn’t stay in the dark for long, just as much as Percy couldn’t stay away from the ocean for long.

Of course the god was concerned, but there was a tiny shell inside of him that was elated.

[dollface-rot]

𐙚ㅤ

⟢ [TW: mentions of SA and CHEATING.]

Odysseus who believed he cheated during his stay with Circe and Calypso.

The king who does not understand that his heart not consenting was enough to absolve him of any guilt, believing himself to be just as bad as the men who kept multiple women hanging off their cloaks like medals.

Weak knees planted on the floor at the bottom of Penelope’s feet, crumpled on the floor like Atlas himself only felt a fraction of the weight on his soul.

Despite the atrocities he’d committed in the form of bloodshed, this still felt like most monstrous sin.

Odysseus would never doubt the intelligence of his wife; the one smarter than him, yet he cannot fathom why she still smiles at him so sweetly and assured him that it was not his doing, that he’s still respected the ties of their marriage.

His body, could not help the physical reaction he felt growing at a mere whiff of his wife’s scent.

His body that felt more traitorous in that moment than the very men who’d opened the windbag.

Not that he’d ever participate physically with his wife once more, not when his body was dirtied by the touch of another woman.

Odysseus believed he needed to prove his love with his heart, and ignore any signs from the body who’d betrayed his only love.

Only in his eyes, of course.

Penelope wishes to skin the goddess alive in a manner more horrid than anything her husband had done.

[dollface-rot]

Odysseus couldn't sleep without both Penelope and Telemachus in bed with him for the first few months of being home.

His wife was to be expected, with how many nights had he spent alone in the ships bed; scarred arms wrapped around himself pathetically.

The memories haunted him, laying in bed with his wife tucked underneath his arm, their newborn nestled safety between them.

They did not make love to each other upon his first night home.

No, not when he couldn’t do anything but hold Penelope as close to his chest as possible, gripping needily like he wished to merge their skin together.

But it wasn’t enough, he needed his boy.

His son whose face had barely changed since he was just an infant, at least to Odysseus; he needed to cradle his baby just as he did before boarding the ship to war.

He’d press him right between himself and Penelope, arms wrapped around them both like nothing had changed over the last twenty years.

Odysseus could not care less that his son was fully grown, so much was ripped away from him, how could you take this from him too?

He broke down the first night Telemachus asked to return to his own chambers.

[nerdygirl2023]

LET MY MAN SNUGGLE HIS FAMILY DAMN IT

[dollface-rot]

𐙚ㅤ Telemachus loved his father so, the man who'd embraced him covered in the blood of the men who'd tormented both him and his mother for years.

But it was hard to part from; the mocking sneers, the ones that still echoed over the now empty halls, he'd failed in becoming enough of a man to save his mother himself.

Telemachus wanted to be legendary, enough to live up the crown his father had already stained with greatness.

It was comforting to be curled in his mother and father's arms, soothing that strange inner voice that still mumbled like the small child listening to the queen's stories about the man who'd slayed a boar while just a child.

His own father was able to survive twenty years at sea by himself, Telemachus should be able to do something as measly as sleeping in his own bed.

Despite how much it clawed at his heart, that inner voice screaming that he'd wake up in pieces at the bottom of the ocean the moment he went to sleep in his own chambers.

"My boy," his father's weak, old knees would sink onto the flooring of the palace, scarred hands wrapped up in the blue fabric as if he could swaddle his son into his arms like those twenty years hadn't passed at all, "My boy."

Tears streaked down the scarred face of his father, face scrunched in pain like the very notion hurt him more than whatever he'd seen out at sea.

"Please." he gasped out with a choked voice, "Just one more week, a day, a single second more, my son."

The man who he'd idolized for the last twenty years was shaking like a leaf only because Telemachus had suggested the idea he slept in his own bed after months of sleeping like a small child.

The king who'd only stopped whimpering and trembling once Telemachus curled back into bed with him, arms wrapped around him until the boy was curled against his chest like an infant.

Perhaps he didn't have to be legendary today.

He felt safe again, the warmth leaking onto him to chase away the painful knowledge he could've ended up at the bottom of the ocean.

Because his dad chased the waves themself away.

[dollface-rot]

𐙚ㅤ Odysseus couldn't sleep without both Penelope and Telemachus in bed with him for the first few months of being home.

His wife was to be expected, with how many nights had he spent alone in the ships bed; scarred arms wrapped around himself pathetically.

The memories haunted him, laying in bed with his wife tucked underneath his arm, their newborn nestled safety between them.

They did not make love to each other upon his first night home.

No, not when he couldn’t do anything but hold Penelope as close to his chest as possible, gripping needily like he wished to merge their skin together.

But it wasn’t enough, he needed his boy.

His son whose face had barely changed since he was just an infant, at least to Odysseus; he needed to cradle his baby just as he did before boarding the ship to war.

He’d press him right between himself and Penelope, arms wrapped around them both like nothing had changed over the last twenty years.

Odysseus could not care less that his son was fully grown, so much was ripped away from him, how could you take this from him too?

He broke down the first night Telemachus asked to return to his own chambers.