#minhmy art

[minhmynchi]

i'm normal about them all the time i prommy <3

[minhmynchi]

yay accept ur compliments or else

[minhmynchi]

wuh. hwuh? wha?

[minhmynchi]

hie..... i have some blushy sifs for y'all today

[minhmynchi]

does anyone else think about these lines a normal amount or is it just me

[minhmynchi]

it's now midnight my time so!! happy birthday siffrin!!! here's him and loop relaxing with each other :3 a bonus twohats spoilers pic in the readmore <3

im so normal about them i swear. waaah

[minhmynchi]

ok fine hi. i'll post some of my art here

[minhmynchi]

i had to redraw them... the eepies......

[minhmynchi]

i went shopping for art supplies and as someone who does not do traditional art outside of pen work, experimenting like this was rly fun :D

also bonus whiteboard doodle bc why not

[minhmynchi]

(You both grip each other's hands tightly. You can see it.)

(Your home.)

[minhmynchi]

lil siffrin doodle!

its still kagepro day for me so i was thinking about additional memory hehe.

[minhmynchi]

anyways ANYWAYS! sif doodles at work :3

[minhmynchi]

wym u don't believe them when he says he's fine

[minhmynchi]

hi here's another lil doodle for the bday non-biney lets goooo (and ofc one of you know who [two hats] under the cut)

[minhmynchi]

wingfrin bc i was thinking about the silly ☺️

feat. some twohats writing in the read more bc i would love to draw this but don't know how to compose it so i wrote it instead (edit: it's now on ao3 if reading on tumblr doesn't suit ur fancy)

You keep your wings hidden all the time, now. They were adequately sized, enough to glide short distances like the Housemaiden, but that's no longer the case. As you push past what you unfortunately recognize as your thousandth loop, you are painfully aware of how your wings pull and tear at your cloak every loop, ripping it only to become fixed when you loop back after dying to the King or otherwise. Every loop, your wings grow the smallest bit bigger, and you can't help but tear a feather off each time, using the pain to ground you better than the quick, useless reset your dagger was.

Wrap your wings around yourself, pull a piece off, mutter something thrice or more, let it fall unceremoniously to the dark, cold floor of the House, unbeknownst to your friends who question you all the time but you shove it off because it's not like they can care anyways. They show as much, and you don't want to worry them, but one loop you seemed to have dropped a lot more feathers than necessary. You chalk it up to the half bottle of wine you had picked up and drank. You shivered, your hand reaching around your body once more, but the Kid pushes into you, pressing against your body in what you presume is an awkward no-arms hug, and you startle so bad that they flinch back and they look distraught for a moment before frowning pensively at you and crossing their arms. Saying that you looked bad, and pushing a hard candy into you until you let your arm show itself from its clothed cage, hand shakily taking the proffered treat.Your feathers ruffled, and a few fell to the ground, and the others stared at it, their own wings spreading in alarm as they stared at you with questions in their eyes. You quickly shove the candy into your mouth, relishing the new taste. Realizing the taste was not the only thing that was new.

You want to cry, but you march on into your designated failure. Down the familiar hallways of despair, even if your friends were acting weird.

A lot of things happened then. You had a talk, your hands were held, your face was cupped. You were given snacks, and told to say something, anything. Hands held once again in a sweaty grip, and you laugh for the first time in what felt like months. Years.

You do your best not to cry, because you can't have hope. Something new doesn't mean anything good. It can't.

You don't feel that great, but you think that this loop is a little more manageable until you get to the end.

And what an end it is.

You give up, but your friends don't. You remember their names, you see them for the first time, you really, truly see them.

You stand up. You hold your hand in a Scissors sign, channeling Craft through it, and your burning wings spread beneath your cloak, and it doesn't tear. No feathers fall.

But the King does.

And you won.

Right?

You won!

You want to collapse out of relief as your friends cheer and scream, and you feel the tears you held in for years suddenly start to overflow, and then you feel it.

The familiar tug on your stomach.

Before you know it, you were dragged all the way back to Dormont, and Mirabelle is leaning over you with a blissful smile on her face.

No, no, no--

You can't breathe, and your wings burn against your back, against your cloak, against the grass.

You smile at Mirabelle and she leaves.

You sit up, and make your way to the Favor Tree one last time.

You haven't been here in years.

Your wings, originally small and graceful, are now as big as your torso and feathers glide past your waist, hugging against you under your cloak.

You chase away Isabeau, your memory somehow not failing you (you try not to laugh as he leaves).

And you climb.

You climb, climb, climb up the Favor Tree, flapping your useless wings to help with balance. You toss down your hat in the process so you could see better, and you make it to the top.

You see that accursed House in the distance. The King's Craft, keeping it shrouded in night forever.

The King, who you killed, and should have stayed dead.

Why did you loop back?

Why?

You tear at a feather, and then another, and another as you whisper into each one, voice choked and hurried.

Why?

You know why.

You wanted to stay with your friends, and so you do! But you can't escape!

You want to stay with them, but not like this!

Night falls around you as you continue plucking your feathers, because you don't want to fly anymore. Whispering into the dark, light appears from somewhere you can't identify in your haze. Your wings hurt, your head hurts, everything hurts and burns and tears at your soul as you feel frustration and rage build up within you.

You can't take it anymore, as you hold up your last feather, covered in a dark, unidentifiable liquid. You wish, you wish, you wish one last time to be helped.

Someone, anyone...

Pain blooms through your entire body as the Universe listens, sending down a star into your outstretched hands and taking the feather with it.

Finally...

You rid yourself of your feathers, of your wings, of your friends, of yourself.

Dropping off of the canopy of leaves from the shock of the pain, unlike what you've inflicted upon yourself, unlike any you've experienced. You felt like you were being torn apart and rearranged, and you couldn't help but let out a scream as you fell, fell, fell.

And you wake up.

At the Favor Tree in Dormont.

You shove your face into your hands and scream so loud, you send a few birds flying, and you realize.

Your wings have returned, but they are no longer soft. Something much more sinister had happened, and you opened your eyes. Gazing into your lightless, starry hands.

And you laugh, shrill and manic.

Is this a joke?

Giant, inhuman wings to accompany your sudden inhuman body? Is this the Universe's idea of an escape? Of help?

There are no feathers to pluck. No pain to instill upon yourself any longer.

Right?

You attempt to check, but you hear a loud guffaw that tugs at your chest, and you peek around the tree and see yourself talking to Isabeau.

And that same self, that same mirror image walks up to the Favor Tree, and makes a wish. Their wings are free and fluttering, happy to be there.

You want to tear their feathers apart. Rip their wings from their back. Cause unimaginable pain to him, because what the stars is this?

Are you even Siffrin anymore, if this pitiful, laughable shadow is starting again for you?

The Universe pokes at your head, and you have to school your expression into something level.

You're here now. There's no doubt about that. Siffrin asked for help, and Siffrin will get it.

Blindingly ironic that it's not you that will get help.

Why give you wings if you could never fly free, if you'll be stuck for eternity again?

What else is there to gain when you have been given everything to lose?

[minhmynchi]

being shown love and care shouldn't have to come as a surprise when the people you love, love you right back.

it shouldn't be this hard to learn to accept it, but you can't help but be embarrassed for being unable to care about yourself as easily as the ones you love do.

but you're working on it. you'll work on it.