#hawksflatass writes

Author note: This is now being expanded into a full ecosystem for minimalist bureaucratic horror. You are welcome to use For the Safety of the Public entries as a resource for your fics. I just ask that you please link back to the document and credit. This will go up on AO3 eventually. And, of course, thank you to @autumnmobile12, who sparked the process with her own brilliance.

[NPSC ARCHIVE]

FILE ID: Y23-MHRA-001

CLEARANCE: INTERNAL COUNCIL ONLY

DATE: June 15, Y.23

So, I did a thing. @autumnmobile12 asked me to look over something she wrote for her fic, and having been entrenched in PennLaw Regulatory Compliance education and literature lately, with permission, I have expanded that blurb into a Diet-style piece. Enjoy~.

I'll probably expand this to a whole thing because I actually thoroughly enjoy it (and no one is surprised by this).

Meta-Human Rights Act 2073

Banner art by @lura-valentine For @hokusu

The shadows weren’t monsters. That would’ve been too easy. They were him. One was hunched over. Another was trying to fly. A third was just perfectly still with the glowing, dissociated gaze. Fragments of a mind, scattered across an obsidian floor that went on forever.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dissociation, Body Horror, Liminal Horror, Bureaucratic Horror, Psychological Horror, Institutional Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Medical Trauma, Psychological Distress, Emotional Distress, Trauma Responses, Dissociation, Self-Erasure, Self-Neglect, Identity Crisis, Sensory Issues, Panic, Overwhelm, Existential Dread, Implied Death

“You opened your grade,” Aizawa said. “Yes,” Keigo replied, voice light and polite. “I apologize for the poor showing. I’ll increase my study hours at home.” “You won’t,” Aizawa said flatly. He dropped his pen into a container and looked up. His dark, bloodshot eyes locked onto Keigo—the same terrifying focus that made every student in 2-B want to crawl under their desks and every player on the pitch suddenly hyper-aware of their own breathing. “You just ran three kilometers of high-intensity drills looking like you were holding yourself together through sheer willpower. If you add three hours of English memorization on top of whatever wall you’re hitting, you’re going to collapse.” Keigo’s smile didn’t slip. It was too practiced. But his fingers twitched behind his back. “I can handle it, sir.” “I didn’t ask if you could handle it,” Aizawa said, pulling an index card from his drawer. “I said you won’t. Your foster family called the principal twenty minutes ago. They asked us if we had mitigation steps. If your retake score does not hit sixty-five, they want us to intervene.” A steady smile stayed plastered on Keigo’s face, even as his molars ground together. His foster parents hadn’t issued threats or ultimatums. But they didn’t need to; asking Aizawa to step in achieved the same result. The snare had pulled taut all the same. “I need to pass the retake,” Keigo said, dropping the pretense and meeting Aizawa’s eyes. “Whatever it takes. I can’t lose my spot on the team.” Aizawa studied him for a long moment. No sympathy. No lecture. He leaned back, tapping the index card against his thumb. “You know,” Aizawa said, thoughtful. “Thirty-two. You submitted every assignment—late, but submitted. Your homework average was a sixty-eight. Barely passing. Then you sit down for the diagnostic and write forty-seven words.” Keigo said nothing, but his gaze fell solemnly. “I read them,” Aizawa said. “The words you did write? They were good.” Silence. “You’re not failing because you can’t do the work,” Aizawa continued. “You struggle, but that’s not the reason. You’re failing because you’re frozen. That’s a different problem.”

Spring Training - Chapter 3: The Red Mark - {Read Here}

ℹ️Fic Metadata:  Rating: Teen & Up | Pairing: Hawks x Dabi |  Genres: slow burn, high school sports au, unreliable narrator Series placement: 1/4 | Word Count: 8,111 | Chapters: 3/?? (est 42)

The final bell rang. Keigo's shoulders had begun to ache. He needed to get to the locker rooms before the rest of the team arrived—to adjust the binder, to tug the fabric down just enough so he could take a full breath before two hours of sprints. He stepped out into the back hallway. The spring air was cooler here, blowing through an open window. He reached up, loosening his stiff collar with two fingers. Let out a long exhale he'd felt like he'd been holding since he got up. First day down. No mistakes. A faint scent began to drift through the corridor, carried by the breeze. Sharp and acrid—burning paper and tobacco—drifting up from the alley between the gym and the back of the auditorium. Keigo paused. Leaned over the windowsill, looking down into the narrow, unpaved ground below. Nestled far out of sight of faculty windows was a lean figure in a rumpled uniform with a third-year badge, leaning against the brick wall. Black hair messy. Staring down at his thumb, where a tiny flickering blue flame hovered over the pad. Lazily, he lifted the spark to the tip of a crushed cigarette, took a slow drag, let out a cloud of gray smoke that vanished into the afternoon sky. He looked completely, inconsolably bored. Totally unbothered. Like the entire school, the world, and all the rules therein didn't even exist. Keigo stared, chest tightening with a sharp spike. Must be nice, he thought. Must be real nice. Down below, as if sensing eyes on him, the third-year turned his head. Through the smoke, a pair of bright turquoise eyes looked straight up, catching Keigo leaning over the windowsill. Keigo's heart did a strange, violent flip. He snapped back instantly as his cheeks burned. He pulled his duffel strap tight, turned on his heel, and finished his hurried strut towards the field. The ghost of those eyes burned in his mind.

Spring Training - Chapter 1: The New Face - {Read Here}

@autumnmobile12 is coming in with another *breathtaking* fanart piece for Rain. Once again, I am floored. It’s gorgeous and fits the fic so well! She can capture a vibe like no other, and I am incredibly in awe and appreciative that this series is resonating with her (and so many others). 😭 It’s the last thing I expected. I’ll embed this in the chapter shortly. So, below is a little treat:

⛔ CW: Explicit Sexual Content (Masturbation), Trauma, Grief, Dissociation, Toxic Past Relationships, Body Memory, Sensory Flashback, Reference to Past Non-Con Dynamics, Maladaptive Coping, Self-Destruction, Heavy Emotional Themes, No Comfort

haunted!Hawks Keigo tries to quiet the memories Dabi left behind, but the rain brings everything back. A Rain snippet. (163 words) (read the oneshot here)

@autumnmobile12 sent me this amazing fanart piece for Vieras and I am just floored. 😭 It's so beautiful!! I'll be embedding this into AO3 shortly. But, as a little treat, the scene below: ⛔ CW: MCD, Body Horror, Psychological Horror, Eating Disorders, Suicidal Ideation, Self-Harm, Pharmaceuticals, Medication Misuse, J-Horror, Hurt No Comfort

haunted!Hawks A ritual of denial, grief, and control—he won’t look up, even as the air turns to ash. A Vieras snippet. (152 words) (read the full fic here)

“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.