HEAVY WARNING for self harm, suicidal thoughts, and self-mutilation. There's no actual harm done in the fic, but it's definitely talked about in this story. I promise, though, it's a happy ending, as I am physically incapable of writing things without happy endings. ; w;
 
 
But anyways, if you get triggered or start to panic easily at these kinds of mentions, please don't read this!! I also want to emphasize that the passages [that look like this] are all imaginary, and aren't actually happening in the story!!
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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He'd always suffered with thoughts like these. Of course, he knew how to handle them, as well. He'd learned a long time ago that those thoughts simply couldn't go unchecked, and so he'd always kept them in the furthest corners of his mind, locked away where they couldn't interfere with his everyday life. And sure, there were those days where the thoughts broke loose, but he was always prepared for that, too; it might not have always been easy, but he would always be able to get them back where they belonged-- back where they couldn't harm him anymore.
 
 
Not to say that those days never hurt.
 
 
And unfortunately for Eli, today happened to be one of those days. He squeezed his eyes shut at the onslaught of horrid thoughts and visions bombarded his mind.
 
 
[A knife, gleaming in the light, tracing its way down vapid, exposed arms. The touch was delicate at first but quickly added pressure behind the blade, fashioning intricate curves and leaving a sinuous trail of blood in its wake.]
 
 
'Just stop thinking about it,' he told himself. 'These are your own goddamn thoughts, after all. You should be able to control these. Just… stop thinking about it.'
 
 
Of course, this did nothing to solve the problem. His unruly thoughts, normally restrained and kept under lock and key, had finally burst their way out of their carefully constructed confines and were more than ready to run amok in his vulnerable mind.
 
 
[He sat, mesmerized, as the blood oozed its way down his forearm, coating the skin it passed over in a dark crimson cloak.]
 
 
'God damn it! Stop thinking about it! It's not that fucking hard!'
 
 
[The knife was cast to the side, exhausted of its purpose, and the bloodied hand gently placed its fingers where the canyons were carved. For a moment they simply sat there, enjoying the pulse of thick wine saturating over them, but soon bore down into the maroon ravines with renewed purpose.]
 
 
'Please,' he begged his own mind, 'just fucking stop. Please.'
 
 
[Fingernails dug under the skin, peeling back the layer of flesh and exposing the crimson strands that lay beneath. He watched them, fascinated, as the strands tightened and slackened as they manipulated the structures they were attached to. Each of them pulsing and pulling taut in a musical rhythm, as if replicating the strands of a grand piano, or a guitar.]
 
 
"Fuck," he distantly heard himself breathe out.
 
 
[What beautiful music it brought to the world. Surely, an instrument so wonderful couldn't be that hard to play? Yes, it certainly seemed easy enough. Bloodied hands traced over the twitching muscles, before gripping one with unrelenting impetus and pulling the string to hear its beautiful sound.]
 
 
He sucked in a choppy breath and felt his knees hit the floor, no longer willing to support him.
 
 
He didn't notice his body listing over to the side, until he barely registered the bruising impact of the ground as it came up to meet him.
 
 
"Are you okay?" A distant voice asked.
 
 
He felt the tears teetering on the edge of his vision finally fall.
 
 
He felt a gust of wind before large, powerful hands reached down to burrow their way under him, disturbing the earth he lay upon and lifted upwards, bringing his catatonic body with.
 
 
He logically knew what was happening; it was Amber making sure he was okay.
 
 
His logical brain wasn't exactly functioning right now, though, having been overwhelmed by the onslaught of horrific images and visions.
 
 
With the last burst of mental strength he had, he tried to seize back control of his brain, to reclaim what was so quickly overrun and overpowered.
 
 
He wasn't doing very well.
 
 
He felt a hot wave of shame and guilt wash over him, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he tried and failed to rationalize the situation. He couldn't believe he was behaving this way, in front of his friend, no less! He'd always prided himself on being rational, being above the influence of his more negative emotions and thoughts, but this was just completely out of his control.
 
 
There was another sigh from above, and he felt her hot breath on his body. He whimpered pathetically, automatically shying away from the warmth, his brain going into overdrive.
 
 
His heartbeat, a frantic war drum pounding in his ears, chipped away at what little comprehension he had left on the situation. His world began to melt away, the hot rush of shame and guilt from earlier quickly being replaced by the cold, unforgiving chill of panic.
 
 
[He stared with bloodshot eyes at his slick hands, cradling various tendons and ligaments and other unidentifiable pieces of flesh that he himself had shred from his own body. He stared at the horror and imperfection of the strands, all delicately laid before him as if he hadn't just brutally ripped them out.
 
 
The viscous pool swirled around him, brushing up against his back as it attempted to engulf him in its hematic warmth. This startled him out of his hypnotic allure to the sight in front of him. He curled up in a futile attempt to protect himself from the sickening warmth flowing behind him.
 
 
Gradually, the sound of a faint voice could be made out amongst the sound of his pounding heart.
 
 
"What the hell is wrong with you??" It cried, softly at first but quickly gaining volume. "What the fuck, Eli?!"
 
 
He looked down at his hand, still clutched close to his chest, and numbly surveyed the damage he'd done.
 
 
'I don't know,' he wanted to say, 'I thought if I could take it apart, I could find out what was wrong. Maybe I could fix it.'
 
 
Of course, that wasn't what they were talking about, but it hurt a lot less to imagine they were talking about his arm, rather than his entire being.
 
 
"Why the hell would you do this?! Are you stupid?!"
 
 
'I wanted to play a song with it. I wanted to play a song with the instrument I've broken. I wanted it to play the song that's plagued my heart.'
 
 
Suddenly the voice melted into a cacophony of cries, shouts, and curses, all directed at him.
 
 
"Why do you always pull this kind of shit, Eli?"
 
 
"Why are you like this?"
 
 
"Is it something we did?"
 
 
'No, no, it's nothing you did!' He wanted to cry. 'I did this! I did all of this!! I did it to myself.'
 
 
"Why do you always act like this, Eli?"
 
 
"Do you just enjoy bringing people down with you?"
 
 
"Are you even able to think?? This shit affects other people, too, dumbass!!"
 
 
"God damn it, Eli!"
 
 
It all was too much to process, and soon the spiteful words simply formed a solid, blistering wall of hurtful sound, crushing him from all angles relentlessly.
 
 
He couldn't take it. He couldn't do this! Everything around him was pounding, screaming, squeezing, pushing him to his very limits and beyond, simply for the sake of watching him suffer.]
 
 
His eyes ripped open, finding nothing to look at in particular. He sat in an empty pit, devoid of all light and sound, smothering him in his own solitude.
 
 
Was this it? Was he in hell? What else could this be? He was alone, with nothing to feel, nothing to latch on to, nothing to think and nothing to do besides contemplate his own misery. It truly was hell.
 
 
"Fuck," he whispered to himself.
 
 
"Eli? Can you hear me in there?" A voice rumbled from all around him. His eyes flew open wide, falling back against the fluctuating floor beneath him as his entire world was flooded by sound.
 
 
'That isn't just any sound, though.'
 
 
"A-Amb-Amber?" His voice choked out.
 
 
"Yeah, it's me… Are you alright, man? You were freaking out like no one's business."
 
 
He simply sat there for a moment, letting the last of his coherent memories replay in his mind. He felt a familiar wave of hot shame and guilt come over him, and he curled up once again.
 
 
"Oh god," he muttered, burying his face into his knees, "did I really do all that?"
 
 
Silence was his answer, which told him all he needed to know.
 
 
'Oh my fucking god.' He mourned internally, squeezing his eyes shut as he carefully went about cleaning up the debris of his fractured mind.
 
 
'Just… pick it up, Eli. You know how to do this.'
 
 
After an undefined period of time simply marked by him collecting himself and returning his mind to a state that was able to function, he sighed and opened his eyes.
 
 
It was still dark, very much so, but he could just barely start to make out the shape of his surroundings.
 
 
"Fuck, I'm sorry, Amber." He said, staring at an undefinable lump in the wall of the strange cavern. "I'm… sorry you had to see that."
 
 
To his shock, the walls and floor rumbled again, as the voice of his life-long friend echoed around him.
 
 
"What-- fuck! No, don't apologize! Jesus, Eli-- I just… I'm glad you're okay."
 
 
He simply sat for a moment, dissecting her words from the loud rumbling that surrounded him. Even after he'd completely processed the statement, he was left without a sufficient reply.
 
 
"Do you… uh… know where you are?" She asked, her voice a bit quieter this time (but not by much).
 
 
He blinked. That… would be a good thing to know, yeah. Carefully he sat up in the stuffy space around him, mindful of the way he sunk into the surprisingly malleable surface.
 
 
He rummaged around in his pocket, quickly bringing out his phone and pressing the center button once, letting the screen illuminate his surroundings.
 
 
He didn't know what he was expecting, but he certainly hadn't expected to see flesh surrounding him, undulating and pulsing to a powerful heartbeat above.
 
 
"... oh."
 
 
"Y-yeah… 'oh'." Amber echoed.
 
 
"I… thought you'd never done this before?" He asked, pocketing his phone and readjusting his current position so it didn't strain his back as much.
 
 
"I haven't… this is my first time trying."
 
 
He blinked at that. "Oh. Wow, uh..." he chuckled nervously. "Ah… what made you-- I mean--"
 
 
"You were panicking." She said quickly, then hesitated. "I mean… you weren't really responding to anything, and I just… didn't know what to do."
 
 
"So… you ate me?" He asked, a facetious tone creeping into his voice.
 
 
The world shook around him as she laughed. "Oh my god, stop, you know what I mean! I just…" Her tone gained a softer edge. "Whenever I get like that, I just… want to shut out the world, you know? I just want to be hugged and… held, I guess. It was the only way I could think of to help…"
 
 
He nodded silently, despite knowing she couldn't see the gesture. He took in a few shaking breaths before carefully leaning back into the plush walls that surrounded him.
 
 
He sniffled a bit, surprised that there was a buildup of wetness on his face. He brought a hand to his face, surprised to have it come away wet with tears. Had he been crying? Apparently.
 
 
"You… you okay in there dude?" Amber's careful voice echoed around him, startling him out of his silence.
 
 
"Y… yeah, I'm fine. I just… fuck, I just…" He hadn't really known where he was going with that sentence, but whatever message he was trying to convey, Amber apparently understood it.
 
 
"I know," she said, sparing him of trying to reword a wordless expression, "don't worry, man. I get it."
 
 
He nodded again, closing his eyes as he took in a few more deep, controlled breaths as he felt the adrenaline of his panic earlier leave him.
 
 
When he opened his eyes, they felt dry despite the tears still left on his cheeks, and the bags under his eyes felt heavy, as if they actually held the weight of all that was shed that day.
 
 
The two of them sat in comfortable silence, occasionally marked by the periodic rubbing from outside, typically followed by his reluctant kneading in reply.
 
 
It wasn't quite bittersweet, but it was something along those lines. It was a strange feeling, like the calm after the storm, like the undefinable stillness that came after a devastating event. It was the strange, perplexing feeling that came after all the tears had already been shed.
 
 
It felt like his heart, instead of sinking heavily into despair as it had been prior, was now held up higher by an invisible force. He felt his heart drift there, riding the limbo that existed between happiness and sadness, as if riding rolling ocean waves as they inevitably came and passed.
 
 
"Thanks," he said in a small voice. For a moment he wasn't quite sure if she had heard him, but soon he felt a rush of air flow from behind him, up and out above him as he heard her sigh around him.
 
 
"Of course, Eli."
 
 
 
 
 
 
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Relevant tags: (if I forgot to delete this, just ignore it ; w; )
 
 
Male Prey
Female Pred
sad prey
Comforting
Comfort vore
Endosoma
Endo vore
endosmatophilia
Non-Fatal
Willing Pred
Unwilling prey
Unwilling to Willing prey
unwilling to willing
panicking prey
panicked prey
Anxiety
anxiety attack
panic attack
Gore
suicidal prey
Suicidal thoughts
Comforting pred
Wholesome
wholesome vore
wholesome noms
wholesome ending
happy ending
Original Characters
trigger warning
Self harm
Self mutilation
Blood
hallucinations
Trauma
traumatized