Hi! I'm Kit (she/they) 🖤🩶🤍💜
~I'm very stressed and sleep deprived~
I like to draw, write, make characters, and drink tea.
I'm NOT interested in commisions.
I love getting ideas! if you have any, dont hesitate to share.
Hi! Welcome to this blog of whimsy and sleep deprivation!
I mostly just do text posts, but I try to post art when I get the time and I occasionally will post writing too - hopefully more now that I have some semblance of motivation.
I'm working on a lot of things right now, but I'm trying to update at least weekly and am probably going to add links to a few masterposts soon.
--- Guidelines ---
Commissions:
Yes I'm an artist, no I’m not taking commissions or interested in commissioning art from others.
DMing:
I don't mind DMs, I just might be a little awkward. Also if you're disrespectful to me or my online boundaries, I'm going to block you.
Reposting:
As long as you credit me properly, I'm alright with it.
I wrote a fan entry for Demigod Diaries with my oc Archer.
TWs: none I think
Summary: a diary entry from Archer - a bit of a look into his past living in the woods after running away from camp and letting everyone think he's dead.
~2k words
Diary entry 1,101 - 3 years and 13 days in the woods
Archer Robinson
I saw Annabeth today. I think it was capture the flag that brought her out so far past the boundaries. I didn't know what she was doing there, but I couldn't let her get hurt, even if I couldn't risk being discovered. Most don't recognize me as human at a glance, but she would.
Now that I'm back at home with Asha, I really got the chance to think. And I never wrote about the night I ran, so I think I should. I would never forget, and diaries aren't typically used for memories, but I don't have any secrets to write down. I ran out of those a long time ago.
~
It was in early July that I finally made my decision. The third to be prescice. I collected only nessecary items in my bag. My foraging and herbal medicine booklet, the knife I was given on my first day at camp, charcoal sticks for writing, a small sewing kit, and of course this diary. I stowed all of it under my bed for until the fourth.
When everyone was at the fireworks show, I grabbed my bag, checking one last time to make sure I had all I needed before I left, hoping I had enough time to get far away so the future search parties wouldn't find me. As I stepped into the trees, shadows enveloping me, I broke into a sprint, getting as far away as possible from camp until I couldn't hear any of the camp's sounds - just the fireworks echoing between the trees.
I couldn't remember how far I ran, but I only stopped when the last sound echoed through the forest. Surveying my surroundings, I spotted a tall tree that looked easy enough to climb. With a little scrambling, I hoisted myself into the lowest branch, the rest of the climbing coming smoothly from then on.
I stayed up the entire night at the top of the tree, and it wasn't until the next day around noon I started to hear soft calls in the distance of my name. Voices all over, calling out for me, asking where I was.
It happened the next morning too, along with the morning after that, and the morning after that.
Before I knew it, three weeks had rushed by in a blur. Three weeks of foraging my meals, learning what parts of the forest were safest, and mornings full of search parties I had to avoid. I didn't remember much or what happened during that time, all the days blending together.
Finally, after those three weeks I woke up to the peaceful sounds of the forest, uninterrupted by the sound of other demigods. I went back to my tree and climbed up it again, looking off at camp in the distance. The Athena parthenos on the hill glimmered in the sunlight, but it looked small from where I was, like I could hold it on the tip of my finger.
Then I noticed the pillar of smoke rising from camp. My instincts immediatley jumped to conclusions, that the camp was burning, but no. It looked too controlled and small to be something big on fire. It the fire for was my funeral. I never heard search parties again after that morning
For a long time after that, I focused solely on surviving. Hunting small animals, making fires, befriending a handful of older dryads, and learning how to live in the new environment. Then after almost eight months of the constant blurred together days, I stopped surviving and started adapting.
I used the last of the thread in my sewing kit to patch together pelts of rabbits and foxes for comfortable clothes. I carved a broken branch into a staff, adorning it with carved patterns and feathers tied on with thin cord.
I found a deer skull and started using it as a headpiece of sorts with painted patterns of a blood red stain I made from berries and flowers. I even started to abandon my shoes, letting myself go barefoot. I even befriended a Luna wolf, whom I named Asha, along the rest of the pack soon after I gained her trust.
And then the whistle. That was by far my favorite part. I spent so long sculpting river clay and carving wood until I got the perfect sound - not monstrous, but not humanoid either. Purely indistinguishable and unique. Blowing it for the first time sounded like a cross between the cry of a lynx and the bark of a roe deer. It was perfect.
Then I started going closer to the camp again. Never too close, but close enough. I would leave my few items with the dryads for safekeeping and go closer to watch what I was missing. But if I had to be honest, I didn't really miss it that much. On July fourth, one year after I dissapeared, they held their usual game of capture the flag. I could hear shouting and weapons clanging from where I was darting in and out of foliage.
Then there was movement between the trees. Someone sneaked through behind a bush, looking like they were hiding from someone - they probably were - but they were too far out of bounds for it to be safe. Pulling the whistle from my belt, I held it between my teeth under the skull and slowly approached. My footsteps were silent on the ground and the other demigod didn't appear to notice me - until I blew.
The hoarse gurgling cry filled the air and his head whipped around. I recognized him immediately as Connor Stoll. He hadn't changed much since I had seen him last year, but looking right at his face plastered with terror was different. I don't want to say it was satisfying, but seeing someone look at me for what I could truly do for once was satisfying. I was sick of being underestimated.
I hoisted my staff and blew the whistle again, sound splitting the air as he scrambled up and started running. Being a son of hermes, he could run fast, but he didn't know the forest like I did. His shoes crunched against the ground while my bare feet hit it with near silence, jumping over fallen logs effortlessly while he scrambled over them in the sloppy way someone would only do while running on pure adrenaline.
With one more cry of my whistle, I stopped, watching him run back to the game. Turning around, I walked back to where I had found him, the feathers and clay beads hung from my headpiece clicking softly. I picked up some leaves along the way, folding them between my fingertips and ripping them apart into confetti.
Back at my camp, Sycamore was waiting for me as usual. She sat on the soft moss, legs crossed, green skin glowing under the sunlight with her multicolored gray and brown hair braided over her shoulder. "Archer," she said.
"Sycamore," I greeted.
She eyed me up and down with her usual look - a mix of pity and slight distain, but I knew that was just her resting face. She didn't like us young "rowdy" demigods and I originally didn't like her, but we had both grown on each other after repeated accidental encounters. She understood why I ran, I understood why she hated young demigods.
I sat down across from her, gathering nearby twigs and pulling my knife from my bag, sharpening them for no particular reason. A soft huff sound came from across the clearing and I smiled, looking up to see Asha and her few months old puppies.
I held my hand out and she came right over, taking the signal for pets. Her pups followed and I gently started petting one on the top of the head, making sure to pay attention, due to the fact she was still protective of her young around anyone other than wolves. Focusing my attention on my journal, I wrote down what had happened. The first human contact I had made in a year.
Asha nuzzled against my shoulder and I took one hand to perlt her,busing the other to write.
-
Since then, I have seen more people, usually in the same situation. Someone wandering too far out of boundaries to be safe for them. Two of the people have chased me with their weapon, but I always outran them. I wanted them to get back to camp safe with little to no confrontation - if they didn't go back to camp themselves, it was on them.
Last night I visited the campfire and from the treeline, I could hear them talking about this monster in the forest with animal hides and a painted deer skull mask. I think they called it "The Spirit Walker."
If you ask me, that name is completely ridiculous, but they're just making up names for something they can't explain. They talked about the 'spirit walker' being an unexplained monster that feeds on whatever it catches, and that 'It' had never hurt a demigod before (which the used as a lesson to tell campers not to go into the forest and become my first victim.
I believe there is some sort of game happening tomorrow, so I will patrol around the area to make sure no one gets hurt in my woods. And if they do and I find them, I'll figure out how to get them help without revealing my identity as "the boy who dissapeared three years ago"
“Show Annabeth needed to be blonde because it’s important to her character that people constantly underestimate her because she’s blonde”
And black girls DONT get underestimated for the same reasons?
“Blonde Annabeth just meant so much to me because people always thought I was a dumb blonde”
You have representation for that already. You have Elle Woods and Captain Marvel and Barbie and Cress Darnel and Sophie Foster, give someone else a turn. You don’t think there’s black girls out there who get to feel better about themselves because they finally see themselves represented on screen in a main character? Leah Jeffries is facing enough hate and doubting herself for this role, let her play the part because she’s doing a wonderful job. Rick Riordan picked her for a reason.
I'm making a Percy Jackson island on Tomodachi life and I just made Nico and Will. Will has already developed a crush on Nico and I'm one step closer to having solangelo on my island 🥰
Nico and Will had a baby. I didn't want this to happen I just wanted to be married without kids. Oh my god what do I do I want the baby to move out but I would feel bad...
I'm making a Percy Jackson island on Tomodachi life and I just made Nico and Will. Will has already developed a crush on Nico and I'm one step closer to having solangelo on my island 🥰
Nico and Will had a baby. I didn't want this to happen I just wanted to be married without kids. Oh my god what do I do I want the baby to move out but I would feel bad...
I'm making a Percy Jackson island on Tomodachi life and I just made Nico and Will. Will has already developed a crush on Nico and I'm one step closer to having solangelo on my island 🥰
Nico and Will had a baby. I didn't want this to happen I just wanted to be married without kids. Oh my god what do I do I want the baby to move out but I would feel bad...
