Hawks' Flat Ass

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Resonant Writer Info - compilation of science meant to give language to an entire creative system and a lived experience

When she finished, she swept the floor clean of every feather he’d shed in the process. Kaskel watched her gather them into a small paper bag. She tied it shut and then placed it in the bin outside. As if softness itself were refuse. That night, he practiced holding still. He lay on his futon, wings pressed flat behind him, ignoring the ache. Breathing shallow, he practiced keeping his diaphragm as steady as possible. He imagined cutting out every never, sealing every instinct and flicker of sensation behind a wall he would never let anyone breach. It took practice, but he learned the lesson perfectly. Softness was dangerous. Sensation was shame. Instinct was sin. And he resolved to starve everything that was his quirk into oblivion.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Childhood emotional abuse, Conditional affection, Identity Suppression, Perfectionism, Racial Undertones, Societal Pressure, Toxic Family Dynamics

“Kas,” Hawks said gently. "Show me your wings.” Kaskel’s breath hitched. Show me your wings. Four simple words that set the alarms off again in his body. It was better not to let anyone touch them. “I…” Kaskel’s voice cracked. “I don’t… I can’t…” “You can,” Hawks said, thumb stroking a slow circle against Kaskel’s temple. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to see.” The tiny, jerky nod he had given wasn’t a calculated decision. His body was betraying him, and it was the inevitable collapse of a dam that had been holding back his starvation for almost a decade. He was so incredibly tired of hiding. He was exhausted from treating his own biology like an original sin.   Kaskel squared against the bar, gripping the edge of the counter with white knuckles. The glossy varnish reflected vague distortions of his own, terrified gaze. Behind him, he could hear Hawks' steady breathing. He could feel the warmth radiating off of him and smell the cologne that would certainly become a triggering olfactory memory of this impossible night. Slowly, Kaskel’s wings unfurled. First, in small, hesitant arcs with trembling feathers. He couldn’t bring himself to spread them fully, but he opened them enough. The white axillae were exposed, and beneath, the soft, downy underwing that no one had touched. He heard Hawks inhale sharply. It was quiet and sharp. As if he had seen something sacred, or utterly horrifying. “Goddamn,” Hawks breathed. Kaskel’s wings flinched. They tried to fold back in. But Hawk’s voice caught him. “Don’t,” Hawks said, low and gentle “Don’t close up on me. Let me look.”

CONTENT WARNINGS: Anxiety, Body Shame, Casual Cruelty, Casual Homophobia, Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (CPTSD), Dissociation, Emotional Invalidation, Emotional Manipulation, Implied Past Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, Internalized Shame, Microaggressions, Mildly Dubious Consent, Moral Conditioning, Panic, Power Imbalance, Predatory Dynamics, Racial Coding/Microaggressions, Sensory Overload, Self-Worth Issues, Social Anxiety, Social Isolation, Toxic Family Dynamics, Toxic Friendships.

He had worked all day. Tried hard to do everything right, only got “supervised” once for dropping a spoon. He had been as useful as he could possibly be at his age. Yet, despite his efforts, he still didn’t feel safe, and he still didn’t know what to do with that. But Reiko seemed the least venomous when he worked hard and did things right. So he did what he always did: he worked harder the next day.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Childhood emotional abuse, Conditional affection, Identity Suppression, Perfectionism, Racial Undertones, Societal Pressure, Toxic Family Dynamics