note.: i decided to get started on kinktober early since i’m a slow writer. i put the prompts together myself (i didn’t follow a specific list), but feel free to use them if you’d like—no credits needed.
also, this is my first time participating in kinktober and writing for characters i’ve never written before, so apologies in advance if there’s room for improvement.
that being said, all works are porn and written with afab! or gn! reader. please read the tags carefully before proceeding to read a fic in case there is a kink you feel uncomfortable with.
WORKS WILL BE POSTED WHEN OCTOBER BEGINS ֶָ֢ᐟ THIS IS JUST AN OVERVIEW FOR NOW. [SLOW UPDATES]
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
DAY ONE.: cockwarming / begging / cockbulge ❤︎ ꒰ ranpo x afab!reader ꒱
DAY TWO.: somnophilia / creampie / dub-con ❤︎ ꒰ yan!dazai x afab!reader ꒱
DAY THREE.: threesome / double penetration / shower sex ❤︎ ꒰ dazai x afab!reader x chuuya ꒱
DAY FOUR.: lingerie / lap dance / club sex ❤︎ ꒰ chuuya x gn!reader ꒱
DAY FIVE.: teasing / scratching / nipple play ❤︎ ꒰ ghost!dazai x afab!reader ꒱
DAY SIX.: recording & taking pictures / stockings / finger sucking ❤︎ ꒰ kunikida x gn!reader ꒱
DAY SEVEN.: mutual masturbation / cum licking / messy sex ❤︎ ꒰ verlaine x afab!reader ꒱
DAY EIGHT.: vouyeurism / adultery / outdoor sex ❤︎ ꒰ atsushi x afab!reader x akutagawa ꒱
DAY NINE.: exhibitionism / biting / blood play ❤︎ ꒰ vamp!dazai x gn!reader ꒱
DAY TEN.: sex pollen / hair pulling / rough sex ❤︎ ꒰ tachihara x gn!reader ꒱
DAY ELEVEN.: scissoring / squirting / mommy kink ❤︎ ꒰ yosano x afab!reader ꒱
DAY TWELVE.: body worship / praise kink / mirror sex ❤︎ ꒰ dazai x afab!reader ꒱
DAY 3TEEN.: face fucking / tit fucking / kneeling ❤︎ ꒰ ranpo x afab!reader ꒱
DAY 4TEEN.: overstimulation / handcuffed / ignored safeword ❤︎ ꒰ nikolai x gn!reader ꒱
DAY 5TEEN.: a/o/b verse / breeding kink / hickeys ❤︎ ꒰ atsushi x afab!reader ꒱
DAY 6TEEN.: intoxication / riding / car sex ❤︎ ꒰ chuuya x afab!reader ꒱
DAY 7TEEN.: dacryphilia / degradation / corruption ❤︎ ꒰ fyodor x afab!reader ꒱
DAY 8TEEN.: wet dream / quiet sex / aftercare ❤︎ ꒰ dazai x afab!reader ꒱ ̗̀➛ might include traces of dub-con
DAY 9TEEN.: pegging / pet play / collaring ❤︎ ꒰ kouyou x gn!reader ꒱
DAY TWENTY.: tentacles / suspension / gagging ❤︎ ꒰ monster! akutagawa x afab!reader ꒱ ̗̀➛ might include traces of non-con
DAY TWENT-YONE.: scent kink / service kink / face sitting ❤︎ ꒰ sigma x afab!reader ꒱
DAY TWENTY-TWO.: shame kink / coming untouched / dry humping ❤︎ ꒰ beast!dazai x afab!reader ꒱
DAY TWENTY-THREE.: oral sex / spit play / semi-public ❤︎ ꒰ poe x gn!reader ꒱
DAY TWENTY-FOUR.: choking / hate sex / wall sex ❤︎ ꒰ chuuya x gn!reader ꒱ ̗̀➛ might include traces of dub-con
DAY TWENTY-FIVE.: glove kink / ruined orgasm / sensory play ❤︎ ꒰ piano man x gn!reader ꒱
DAY TWENTY-SIX.: spanking / punishment / anal sex ❤︎ ꒰ chuuya x gn!reader ꒱
DAY TWENTY-SEVEN.: edging / voice kink / dirty talk ❤︎ ꒰ dazai x afab!reader ꒱
DAY TWENTY-EIGHT.: age gap / size kink / slow sex ❤︎ ꒰ oda x afab!reader ꒱
DAY TWENTY-NINE.: shibari / sensory deprivation / wax play ❤︎ ꒰ ango x gn!reader ꒱
DAY THIRTY.: gun play / non-con / forced orgasm ❤︎ ꒰ yan!albatross x afab!reader ꒱
DAY THIRTY-ONE.: cnc / knife play / power imbalance ❤︎ ꒰ mori x afab!reader ꒱
BONUS ONE.: public sex / teasing / humiliation ❤︎ ꒰ chuuya x afab!reader ꒱
BONUS TWO.: foreplay / food play / handjob ❤︎ ꒰ atsushi x afab!reader ꒱
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
note.: there is a possibility that i might change a few things (though unlikely) and that i won’t be done until october, since i’m starting college soon, but i’ll try my best! worst case scenario, a few fics will be posted in november.
also, please be aware that everything written is purely fictional and that i would never condone some of the kinks like non-con or dub-con in real life. if you know someone who’s experiencing similar (sexual) abuse, don’t be afraid to help that person.
↪thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated! MLIST
ʚଓ.˚ warnings : multi-fandom men x fem!reader. nsfw/smut, size kink/difference, overstimulation, degradation & mocking, chocking (light breath control), hair pulling, man handling, breeding kink, multiple of orgasms, multiple of rounds, dirty talk & praise & cock warming? not proof read & pretty much a quick fic.
BIG MEN WHO… don’t give a damn how much smaller you are, how your body trembles under them, barely able to handle the sheer size of their cock stretching you open. They’ll press you down, keep you in place, making you take every inch until you’re crying out, gasping, nails clawing at their back or the sheets—whatever you can grab onto as they ruin you.
“You can take it,” he mutters, voice thick with desire, watching the way your tight pussy struggles around him. “Fuck—look at that, baby. So damn tiny around me.” His big hands hold your hips, keeping you still as he sinks deeper, making sure you feel every vein, every inch of him stuffing you full.
He doesn’t wait. He doesn’t go slow. The moment he’s inside, he’s fucking into you, rough and deep, your tits bouncing with every sharp thrust. A low groan rumbles from his chest when he sees them, his hands coming up to grab at them, squeezing, his thumbs brushing over your soft nipples. “So fucking perfect,” he breathes, rolling one between his fingers, smirking when you whimper.
He loves seeing you like this—helpless under him, your clit throbbing as his cock pounds into you, stretching you in ways no one else ever could. One of his hands slides down between your legs, two fingers rubbing fast, forcing you closer and closer to the edge. “Come on, sweetheart, let me feel you,” he grunts, leaning down, his weight pressing you into the mattress. “You’re gonna come all over my cock, aren’t you? Good fucking girl.”
Your walls tighten, body arching, your moans turning to desperate cries as the pleasure builds too fast, too strong. “Too much—” you gasp, but he just laughs, his pace never faltering.
“You can handle it,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear before he bites down, making you whimper. “You were made for this. For me.”
His cock pushes even deeper, making you see stars. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, only groaning at the way your pussy clenches around him. “Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up,” he growls, snapping his hips harder, his grip on you almost bruising. “Gonna pump you so full of my cum, you’ll still be dripping with it tomorrow.”
Your mind is hazy, your body nothing but pleasure and overstimulation as his cock bullies your pussy into submission. His fingers don’t stop rubbing your clit, dragging you through another orgasm even as you cry out, thighs shaking.
“That’s it,” he breathes, voice wrecked. “Just like that, baby. You’re fucking perfect.”
And he’s not done. Not even close.
Your legs tremble as he keeps pounding into you, his cock stretching you past your limit, but he doesn’t slow down—not when you’re this wet, this tight, this perfect for him. Your nails dig into his shoulders, desperate to hold onto something, anything, but it only makes him grin, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he presses you further into the mattress.
“Y-You're too big,” you whimper, voice shaky, lips parted as you struggle to catch your breath. Your pussy clenches around him, your body betraying you, and his grin only widens.
“Too big?” he repeats, mocking, one hand gripping your thigh and pushing it up to fuck into you even deeper. “You keep saying that, but your pussy doesn’t wanna let me go.”
You let out a sob when he grinds his hips against yours, the head of his cock pressing against that sweet spot inside you over and over until you're trembling beneath him. Your tits bounce with every ruthless thrust, and he watches, mesmerized, his hands sliding up to cup them roughly, rolling your nipples between his fingers.
“So sensitive,” he murmurs, his voice thick with amusement and something darker. “Poor little thing, getting fucked too good?”
Your eyes flutter shut, overwhelmed by the way his cock stretches your walls, the way his fingers keep circling your clit, sending shockwaves through your already overstimulated body. But then his hand is on your throat, not squeezing, just pressing enough to make you open your eyes and look at him.
“Don’t you dare look away,” he orders, his grip tightening just a little, making your breath hitch. His cock pulses inside you, thick and heavy, dragging along every inch of your sensitive walls as he picks up the pace. “I wanna see that pretty face when I ruin you.”
You bite your lip, trying to hold back a moan, but he sees it—sees the way your body shakes, the way your pussy clenches around him like it never wants to let go. His smirk grows.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he groans, his voice rough, his thrusts turning almost brutal. “Give it to me. Let me feel you come all over my cock.”
Your body obeys before your mind catches up, your back arching as pleasure crashes through you, your pussy squeezing him tight. A broken moan escapes your lips, and he curses under his breath, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises as he fucks you through it, chasing his own release.
“Fuck—” his voice is strained, almost desperate, his cock throbbing inside you. He buries himself as deep as he can go, pushing past the tight clench of your walls, his pace growing erratic. “Gonna fill you up, baby. You want that?”
You nod frantically, your mind foggy with pleasure, your body still shaking. “Y-Yeah,” you whisper, voice hoarse. “Want it.”
That’s all it takes. He groans, low and guttural, his hips jerking as he spills inside you, filling you with thick ropes of his cum. He stays there for a moment, buried to the hilt, breathing heavy, before his thumb lazily circles your clit again, making you jolt.
“You thought I was done?” he chuckles, his cock still hard inside you. His grip on your thighs tightens as he pulls back, teasing you with slow, shallow thrusts. “Nah, sweetheart. I’m just getting started.”
Your whole body feels boneless, trembling under him, but he doesn’t let you rest—not when your pussy is still clenching around him, so warm, so tight, still desperate for more even if your mind hasn’t caught up yet.
“You’re shakin’, baby,” he murmurs, dragging his fingers over your stomach, pressing down just enough to make you feel the way his cock is still buried inside you, so deep it almost hurts. “But look at that—your greedy little pussy’s still suckin’ me in.”
You whimper, trying to squirm away, but his big hands grab your hips, pinning you down with ease. He tsks, amusement thick in his voice. “Where d’you think you’re going, sweetheart?” His grip tightens, fingers pressing bruises into your soft skin. “You wanted my cock so bad—now you’re gonna take it.”
Your breath catches when he pulls back, teasing, letting only the thick head of his cock stretch you open before slamming all the way back in, knocking the air from your lungs. Your legs shake, another weak whimper slipping past your lips, but he only smirks, watching the way your tits bounce with every brutal thrust.
“Fuck—so fuckin’ tight,” he groans, reaching up to grab a handful of your hair, tugging your head back so you have no choice but to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark, hungry. “You feel that, baby? Feel how deep I am? Like I was made to fuck you like this.”
You can’t speak, can’t think—just moan as he rolls his hips, grinding deep, the fat head of his cock pressing against that sweet spot inside you over and over. His free hand moves to your throat, not squeezing, just pressing, keeping you right where he wants you.
“You like it rough, don’t you?” he mutters, his voice dripping with amusement. “All fucked-out and dumb on my cock.” His grip on your throat tightens slightly, just enough to make your head spin. “Bet you can’t even talk right now.”
He’s right. You can’t. Your lips part, a broken moan escaping, and he chuckles, smug. “That’s what I thought.”
Your pussy clenches around him, your clit throbbing, and he notices—of course he notices. His other hand slides between your legs, two fingers circling your swollen clit in tight, teasing motions.
“Yeah? You like when I talk to you like that, huh?” His voice is low, teasing, his fingers moving faster. “Such a desperate little thing.”
Your body is too sensitive, too overwhelmed, but you can’t stop yourself from rolling your hips up into his touch, chasing another high. He groans, watching you, his cock twitching inside you.
“Look at you—so fuckin’ needy for me,” he mutters, leaning down until his lips brush against your ear. “Gonna come again, aren’t you? So easy. So fuckin’ easy for me.”
Your mind blanks as the pleasure slams into you, your pussy squeezing him tight, making him curse under his breath. His hips snap against yours faster, rougher, his cock bullying your tight, wet walls as he chases his own release.
“Shit—gonna fuckin’ fill you up,” he growls, his thrusts turning erratic, harder, deeper. “Gonna pump you so full of my cum, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”
You cry out, barely able to handle the overstimulation, your body trembling beneath him as he slams into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt as he spills inside you. His grip on your throat loosens as he groans, his breath ragged, “Fuckin’ hell finally I bred this pussy good.”
StumbleUpon once sent me to a supercut of Lion King, Lion King 1 1/2, and Lion King II, the main edit being that the scenes of Lion King and Lion King 1 1/2 were interspersed so that they happened in the order they actually happened.
The Bored Button - "Press the Bored Button and be bored no more."
The Useless Web
Cloudhiker - "Discover the most interesting, weird and awesome websites of the Internet" (not really a rebrand, it's a different person running it but they have the same intention in mind)
Astronaut.io - "These videos come from YouTube. They were uploaded in the last week and have titles like DSC 1234 and IMG 4321. They have almost zero previous views. They are unnamed, unedited, and unseen (by anyone but you)."
Marginalia - "This is an independent DIY search engine that focuses on non-commercial content, and attempts to show you sites you perhaps weren't aware of in favor of the sort of sites you probably already knew existed."
StumbleUpon once sent me to a supercut of Lion King, Lion King 1 1/2, and Lion King II, the main edit being that the scenes of Lion King and Lion King 1 1/2 were interspersed so that they happened in the order they actually happened.
The Bored Button - "Press the Bored Button and be bored no more."
The Useless Web
Cloudhiker - "Discover the most interesting, weird and awesome websites of the Internet" (not really a rebrand, it's a different person running it but they have the same intention in mind)
Astronaut.io - "These videos come from YouTube. They were uploaded in the last week and have titles like DSC 1234 and IMG 4321. They have almost zero previous views. They are unnamed, unedited, and unseen (by anyone but you)."
Marginalia - "This is an independent DIY search engine that focuses on non-commercial content, and attempts to show you sites you perhaps weren't aware of in favor of the sort of sites you probably already knew existed."
I’ve been typing these headcanon angst fics (based off this post!) for months, and figured that it was about time I began posting them on here.
Everytime a new chapter is posted, I will post a link to the next one/previous one at the bottom.
Trigger Warning For Eating Disorders
If You Are Sensitive To This, Do Not Read, Or Read With Caution
Enjoy!
– – – – –
Cole couldn’t stop.
It was an endless cycle of pain. Even after all these years, after all those late nights over the toilet, he still couldn’t make himself stop purging.
Whenever he felt insecure or stressed, he’d stop eating. He’d call it a ‘diet’, but in reality he wouldn’t eat anything at all. After a while, he’d start feeling better, and he’d eat again. He wouldn’t just eat, he’d binge. Until the guilt set in.
After he was finished bingeing, however long that lasted, he’d make his way to the bathroom. He would be disgusted by how much he ate. He would be disgusted with himself. In turn, he would stick his fingers into the back of his throat and empty the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl.
It was painful. It was disgusting. He hated it.
But he also couldn’t make himself stop.
Mia was a constant whisper in the back of his head. She wouldn’t let him stop, wouldn’t let him out of the cycle, no matter how much he hated his self-destructive tendencies. Mia was good at overtaking his judgement. Mia was silver-tongued.
Although, at this point, he couldn’t tell his own thoughts from Mia’s. Cole figured they might even be one-and-the-same nowadays.
It’s hard to track things like this down to one singular moment, or one singular cause. For Cole, it was probably a mixture of things. The pressure from his father, and the resulting pressure from that corner of society. The failing health of his mother. His physical fitness, and the guilt that neither of his parents were able to achieve that.
He remembered telling himself not to eat. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to achieve. Weight loss, self-punishment - for one reason or another, he felt that he held a certain power if he skipped meals. And it was hard. Really hard. Cole loved to eat.
But he was successful… For about six days. At the end of his first week, he was just too hungry. With minimal self-control, and having always been a fairly impulsive person (as teenagers tend to be), he feasted on anything and everything he could find in his father’s kitchen.
And then, full of anger and guilt and food, he felt lost. He felt hopeless. He felt awful.
He wasn’t sure what made him do it the first time. It seems like such a weird thing to come up with. Cole thinks he read it, somewhere; read something about bringing back up what he was ashamed to have put down. So, without thinking about the consequences, he made his way to the bathroom. He felt surprisingly calm.
He knelt, shoved his fingers down his throat, and his life was changed forever.
And that’s how it began, his relationship with Mia. It only got worse, more cemented in his brain, as it continued. He wasn’t sure if his parents knew what was happening - tried to only purge when they weren’t around. But they had to have noticed, right?
Noticed that he needed help?
Once his mother died, and he ran off to climb mountains and grieve, it got surprisingly better. He was still devastated by his mother’s death, and angry at his father, but his eating and mental state became stable.
Looking back, he thinks it was the environment. Being outside, as well as away from society, was good for him.
Everything was great for a while. Master Wu brought him to the monastery. There, he would become friends with Zane, Jay, Kai, and Nya - all of whom would be his friends for life. They fought to help, to save, people (with Lloyd eventually joining the team). It was an amazing (albeit stressful) experience.
Until Zane died.
When he grieved for his mother, he managed to get better. When he grieved for Zane, his disorder came back with vengeance. The same emotions - mainly anger and guilt - overcame him once again. He went off to go work in the woods, away from the city, but this time nature didn’t help.
And this time, he didn’t get better.
One would think that becoming a ghost would have made everything easier; that he couldn’t have had an eating disorder if his body didn’t require him to eat. In reality, it was the exact opposite. The desire, the yearning, was still present. But he was physically unable to act upon it. If anything, it only made him worse.
And then, as if to add insult to injury, he regained his humanity.
Which, at first, made him very happy. He was human again! But even though he was beyond excited about the return of his physical body, that didn’t mean that he ate normally. Nope. It was right back to where he left off before.
But in its return, in its growing severity since his first trip to Yang’s temple, he was less careful. He didn’t check to see who was on the Bounty. He didn’t check to see where anyone was. He might have even forgotten to lock the door. He just binged and then found himself kneeling in front of the toilet.
He vomited twice before he heard the knock on the bathroom door. “Cole? Are you alright in there?”
“I think I ate something,” he began the scripted excuse he used to give his father, on the rare occasion he had heard, “that didn’t agree with me.”
“Are you, uh, sure?” He heard Jay continue. “You need any, uh, help?”
Yes, he thought, wanting to cry it loud, I need help.
“Jay, I’m throwing up. How are you supposed to help with that?” Cole asked.
A pause, and then, “I don’t know, man. A hug? A therapist?”
Panic. “A what?”
“Therapist. You know, to talk to.” He chuckled, nervously. “Sorry I’m not any good at this. I just don’t know what to do.”
Cole wiped his mouth with a piece of toilet paper, then his nose, and then flushed everything down. He called to him, giving Jay permission to enter. Cole looked him right in the eye with as much confidence as he could muster after being bent over a toilet bowl. “What do you know?”
Jay shrugged, chuckled that nervous chuckle he does, knelt down next to Cole, and then spoke. “Uh, forgive me for making assumptions, especially if I’m wrong, but, well…”
“Maybe explain with less filler words?” Cole requested.
“Right!” Jay exclaimed. “With the way you don’t eat with us all the time, or the binges you go on, I had an inkling that something was wrong. But now that I’ve caught you, like, vomiting…”
Cake crunched his brows. His heart was pounding. Jay was so close… “What are you insinuating?”
“You’re bulimic, aren’t you, Cole?”
His heart sunk all the way down to his stomach. No. Jay knew. Jay knew. He knew the name and everything.
Cole didn’t say a word.
In the silence, Jay quickly retracted his statement. “Oh! Am I wrong? I’m wrong, aren’t I? Oh gosh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to-”
“You aren’t wrong, Jay.” He forced out. He didn’t want anyone to know, but… “You aren’t wrong.”
Jay’s expression shifted slowly, morphing into an entirely new emotion. Cole was surprised to see that it wasn’t disappointment. “How long have you, like, been…you know…”
He had words in his head, had an honest explanation. He was ready. But when he spoke, all that came out was a choked sob. Cole wasn’t surprised. Jay was.
“Dude! You alright?”
Cole looked at him incredulously. “I have an eating disorder, Jay. Do you think I’m alright?”
For a moment, the only sound was sniffling. Suddenly, Cole burst forward and pulled Jay into a tight hug. He was surprised, as evident by his tensed my muscles, but he quickly relaxed. Cole was thankful. Deep down, he knew he needed help; he knew he needed support.
And for awhile, they just sat there, on the floor. Cole cried - for himself, for those around him - and Jay sat there, silently supporting him.
With sudden urgency, Cole shot his head up. “Don’t tell Master Wu. Don’t tell the others. Please!
His best friend looked skeptical. “Cole, I can’t-”
“Please, Jay. I-I promise to get this under control.” Lie. “Just keep it a secret, between us buddies, right?”
Jay bit his lip. Cole could see the panic in the other boy’s eyes. For a ninja, Jay had a lot of trouble making decisions in high-stress situations. After a few moments of silence, Jay exhaled.
“You know, Cole, I’m in a pretty sticky situation here.” Jay told him, sounding slightly whiny. “But I won’t tell anyone.”
Cole exhaled a breath he hadn’t known he was holding in. “Oh my gosh, dude, you’re the-”
“On one condition.” Jay continued. “You have to let me help you get better.”
Cole was unsure of how to answer, at first. Too many contradicting emotions. He couldn’t sort them out. All that came out of his mouth were two, broken words:
I’ve been typing these headcanon angst fics (based off this post!) for months, and figured that it was about time I began posting them on here.
Everytime a new chapter is posted, I will post a link to the next one/previous one at the bottom.
Trigger Warning For Eating Disorders
If You Are Sensitive To This, Do Not Read, Or Read With Caution
Enjoy!
– – – – –
Cole couldn’t stop.
It was an endless cycle of pain. Even after all these years, after all those late nights over the toilet, he still couldn’t make himself stop purging.
Whenever he felt insecure or stressed, he’d stop eating. He’d call it a ‘diet’, but in reality he wouldn’t eat anything at all. After a while, he’d start feeling better, and he’d eat again. He wouldn’t just eat, he’d binge. Until the guilt set in.
After he was finished bingeing, however long that lasted, he’d make his way to the bathroom. He would be disgusted by how much he ate. He would be disgusted with himself. In turn, he would stick his fingers into the back of his throat and empty the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl.
It was painful. It was disgusting. He hated it.
But he also couldn’t make himself stop.
Mia was a constant whisper in the back of his head. She wouldn’t let him stop, wouldn’t let him out of the cycle, no matter how much he hated his self-destructive tendencies. Mia was good at overtaking his judgement. Mia was silver-tongued.
Although, at this point, he couldn’t tell his own thoughts from Mia’s. Cole figured they might even be one-and-the-same nowadays.
It’s hard to track things like this down to one singular moment, or one singular cause. For Cole, it was probably a mixture of things. The pressure from his father, and the resulting pressure from that corner of society. The failing health of his mother. His physical fitness, and the guilt that neither of his parents were able to achieve that.
He remembered telling himself not to eat. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to achieve. Weight loss, self-punishment - for one reason or another, he felt that he held a certain power if he skipped meals. And it was hard. Really hard. Cole loved to eat.
But he was successful… For about six days. At the end of his first week, he was just too hungry. With minimal self-control, and having always been a fairly impulsive person (as teenagers tend to be), he feasted on anything and everything he could find in his father’s kitchen.
And then, full of anger and guilt and food, he felt lost. He felt hopeless. He felt awful.
He wasn’t sure what made him do it the first time. It seems like such a weird thing to come up with. Cole thinks he read it, somewhere; read something about bringing back up what he was ashamed to have put down. So, without thinking about the consequences, he made his way to the bathroom. He felt surprisingly calm.
He knelt, shoved his fingers down his throat, and his life was changed forever.
And that’s how it began, his relationship with Mia. It only got worse, more cemented in his brain, as it continued. He wasn’t sure if his parents knew what was happening - tried to only purge when they weren’t around. But they had to have noticed, right?
Noticed that he needed help?
Once his mother died, and he ran off to climb mountains and grieve, it got surprisingly better. He was still devastated by his mother’s death, and angry at his father, but his eating and mental state became stable.
Looking back, he thinks it was the environment. Being outside, as well as away from society, was good for him.
Everything was great for a while. Master Wu brought him to the monastery. There, he would become friends with Zane, Jay, Kai, and Nya - all of whom would be his friends for life. They fought to help, to save, people (with Lloyd eventually joining the team). It was an amazing (albeit stressful) experience.
Until Zane died.
When he grieved for his mother, he managed to get better. When he grieved for Zane, his disorder came back with vengeance. The same emotions - mainly anger and guilt - overcame him once again. He went off to go work in the woods, away from the city, but this time nature didn’t help.
And this time, he didn’t get better.
One would think that becoming a ghost would have made everything easier; that he couldn’t have had an eating disorder if his body didn’t require him to eat. In reality, it was the exact opposite. The desire, the yearning, was still present. But he was physically unable to act upon it. If anything, it only made him worse.
And then, as if to add insult to injury, he regained his humanity.
Which, at first, made him very happy. He was human again! But even though he was beyond excited about the return of his physical body, that didn’t mean that he ate normally. Nope. It was right back to where he left off before.
But in its return, in its growing severity since his first trip to Yang’s temple, he was less careful. He didn’t check to see who was on the Bounty. He didn’t check to see where anyone was. He might have even forgotten to lock the door. He just binged and then found himself kneeling in front of the toilet.
He vomited twice before he heard the knock on the bathroom door. “Cole? Are you alright in there?”
“I think I ate something,” he began the scripted excuse he used to give his father, on the rare occasion he had heard, “that didn’t agree with me.”
“Are you, uh, sure?” He heard Jay continue. “You need any, uh, help?”
Yes, he thought, wanting to cry it loud, I need help.
“Jay, I’m throwing up. How are you supposed to help with that?” Cole asked.
A pause, and then, “I don’t know, man. A hug? A therapist?”
Panic. “A what?”
“Therapist. You know, to talk to.” He chuckled, nervously. “Sorry I’m not any good at this. I just don’t know what to do.”
Cole wiped his mouth with a piece of toilet paper, then his nose, and then flushed everything down. He called to him, giving Jay permission to enter. Cole looked him right in the eye with as much confidence as he could muster after being bent over a toilet bowl. “What do you know?”
Jay shrugged, chuckled that nervous chuckle he does, knelt down next to Cole, and then spoke. “Uh, forgive me for making assumptions, especially if I’m wrong, but, well…”
“Maybe explain with less filler words?” Cole requested.
“Right!” Jay exclaimed. “With the way you don’t eat with us all the time, or the binges you go on, I had an inkling that something was wrong. But now that I’ve caught you, like, vomiting…”
Cake crunched his brows. His heart was pounding. Jay was so close… “What are you insinuating?”
“You’re bulimic, aren’t you, Cole?”
His heart sunk all the way down to his stomach. No. Jay knew. Jay knew. He knew the name and everything.
Cole didn’t say a word.
In the silence, Jay quickly retracted his statement. “Oh! Am I wrong? I’m wrong, aren’t I? Oh gosh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to-”
“You aren’t wrong, Jay.” He forced out. He didn’t want anyone to know, but… “You aren’t wrong.”
Jay’s expression shifted slowly, morphing into an entirely new emotion. Cole was surprised to see that it wasn’t disappointment. “How long have you, like, been…you know…”
He had words in his head, had an honest explanation. He was ready. But when he spoke, all that came out was a choked sob. Cole wasn’t surprised. Jay was.
“Dude! You alright?”
Cole looked at him incredulously. “I have an eating disorder, Jay. Do you think I’m alright?”
For a moment, the only sound was sniffling. Suddenly, Cole burst forward and pulled Jay into a tight hug. He was surprised, as evident by his tensed my muscles, but he quickly relaxed. Cole was thankful. Deep down, he knew he needed help; he knew he needed support.
And for awhile, they just sat there, on the floor. Cole cried - for himself, for those around him - and Jay sat there, silently supporting him.
With sudden urgency, Cole shot his head up. “Don’t tell Master Wu. Don’t tell the others. Please!
His best friend looked skeptical. “Cole, I can’t-”
“Please, Jay. I-I promise to get this under control.” Lie. “Just keep it a secret, between us buddies, right?”
Jay bit his lip. Cole could see the panic in the other boy’s eyes. For a ninja, Jay had a lot of trouble making decisions in high-stress situations. After a few moments of silence, Jay exhaled.
“You know, Cole, I’m in a pretty sticky situation here.” Jay told him, sounding slightly whiny. “But I won’t tell anyone.”
Cole exhaled a breath he hadn’t known he was holding in. “Oh my gosh, dude, you’re the-”
“On one condition.” Jay continued. “You have to let me help you get better.”
Cole was unsure of how to answer, at first. Too many contradicting emotions. He couldn’t sort them out. All that came out of his mouth were two, broken words:
Fingers trail his jaw gently, tilting his head to the side, and Zane runs a cloth over his face in tight circles. The white towel is turning a rusty brown and fat blotches of red, like blood almost, stain the corners. He is being as soft as possible, fingertip trailing along the worst of the rust to inspect it, his mouth tightening into an unhappy line when his nails catch on patches of damage that’s grown thick with neglect. Echo has rarely been treated so delicately, each touch warm and kind, and when his brother turns away to get a new cloth he rests his palm against the mechanics in his neck in a way that leaves him aching. Touch-starved his mind supplies, now that he’s connected to the internet. No one has ever loved him enough to hold him.
“You’re angry.” He observes in the cloying silence.
“Yes.” Zane says stiffly, refusing to look him in the eye, scrutinizing a stubborn patch of rust on the curve of his jaw, “I am not angry with you.”
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