#[see: slow writer + artfight] so this’ll have 2 do for now

[chimerahyperfix]

YAAAAYYY MORE IN CRAFT AND CAGES CONTENT!!!! YIPPEE WOOHOO!!!! Ive been meaninf 2 do one of these 4 a while (shoutout 2 the handful of drafts for these lost in the vast expanse of my Drafts) Time for The Horrors smile.

(content warnings - self harm, suicide + idealation [both simply mentioned but. It’s pretty obvious what’s going on], short but relatively graphic depiction of death/injury - this one is heavy)

There are many ways for you to end a loop. You don’t like any of your options, but you have them. The House is tall enough to jump from. Messing up crafting the bomb works, but it takes longer than you'd like it too-- and Change forbid someone finds you. The tears are nice enough, better than anything else you have access to. The King; well, the less he kills you the better.

The EASIEST option you have is in your room.

Easiest. Not the kindest- just the easiest.

It’s not hard to see how many… extremely dangerous chemicals you have. They litter your desk you should have cleaned it you should have cleaned it you should have cleaned it.and fill your closet. Spilled over and swept up and hid in all the little nooks and crannies of your shared room. Mirabelle knows not to bother using them for anything - and thank Change, because you're not sure what you'd do if you hurt her because you were careless. Yeah, you two have your little squabbles; but in the end it's all fun and games to you. You don't want to hurt her.

You don't want to hurt anyone, actually. Barring the King, of course. That was never your intention. Every now and then, your mind wonders to all those cut-off loops, and you wonder if they continued without you. It's something you've started to manually block out.

They are the fastest the quietest the lonliest an avaliable option. And it sucks, because they hurt. They hurt so, so much. But it’s the fastest way out and you don’t have to make others watch.

The first few times; they were all accidents. Back when you couldn't make the craft bomb fast, back when it took you hours to craft -- it's hard work, making a bomb from scratch! -- you'd always eventually mess up trying to take a drink of your water.

The first time was the worst. You don't remember all of it, not really, not anymore -- blotted that one out as much as you possibly can. You do remember the pain. It was basically acid, so it absolutely tore your throat up.

Everything after the realization point is blurry. You remember screaming, maybe, and blood spilling everywhere. A hand smacking your back. Choking to death. Waking back up at the very same desk with the lingering feeling of gore mashed against your mouth.

Even now, you can still taste it. Like the blood and toxins have seeped into your very being, coating your teeth and your throat. If you bit something you'd probably poison it, too, like a snake, or a scorpions tail.

It's... not that bad, now. You can hold down the sounds that scream in your chest, and simply lay down and die in a puddle of lightless, and that's fine. You've gotten the whole ''look like your sleeping at your desk'' shtick down too. It still hurts, crab does it ever, but you must've burned through all the nerves in the area recently, bevause the pain just gets further and further away. Smaller. Quieter.

Eventually, there's a possibility someone will find you. It happened the first time around. It's not a thought you'd like to entertain, but every hypothesis has a line of reasoning behind it, and eventually the variable will pop up. You very well could be running on a tightrope of when the other side will drop, or a coin flip or something. Until that actually happens, you swear off thinking about it.

For now, you close the door behind you and make your way to your little glass bottle-ridden prison. You need to loop back.