tw?: Izuku having a little bit of stalkerish behavior? Idk.. I can't tell and I wrote him...
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❀ Bf!Izuku is the type to relentlessly compliment you on everything but if you say one nice thing about him, he's a puddle
❀ Bf!Izuku who has MULTIPLE notebooks on you and about your little habits
❀ Bf!Izuku who lowkey gives stalker vibes but you just love him so much you don't really care
❀ Bf!Izuku who's out buying your shampoos and toiletries before you even move in together for whenever you sleep over
❀ Bf!Izuku who loves to rant to you about all the heros he loves
❀ Bf!Izuku who randomly goes out to buy your favorite treat and cleans up for you
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It was finally the weekend and the green haired boy was happily roaming around his house awaiting for his girlfriend arrive for their movie marathon sleepover while his mom was away. He bought all of her favorite snacks and drinks. He was prepared to even cook for her if she wanted homemade food and not order something in.
Izuku was so excited her was double checking everything and extremely impatient while waiting for you to arrive.
What was taking his beautiful girlfriend so long? Her house usually makes her take a 23 minute walk, he should know, he timed her multiple times, and it's already been almost thirty minutes since she's left her house.
Izuku was so anxious, what if something happened to his lovely girlfriend? God, he couldn't imagine. He was fully prepared to walk out of his home and go find her. Before he could do anything rash, he pulled out his phone to check your location, realizing that you stopped at the convenience store near his house.
Izuku let out a sigh of relief before putting on some shoes to go out and meet you, since he couldn't stand being away from you for one more second. Izuku jogged to the convenience store, stopping just outside as you're looking through the aisles.
He smiles softly to himself as he talks out his phone and snaps some pictures of you.
What? A guys just admiring his lovely girl.
Izuku goes inside and taps you as you finally notice his presence. "Izuku!!" You exclaim as you give him a small kiss and wrap your arms around him, in a hug. "How'd you know I was here?" You asked, not caring that you're doing excessive PDA right now. "You were taking a bit so I thought I could stop by to pick up more snacks and saw you.." He hummed as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your perfume.
He doesn't need his sweet little girlfriend know that he was itching every moment he didn't know what she was doing and tracked her. It's okay, he's happy knowing that you're oblivious to his tendencies as long as you stick by him.
And you will stick by him, you have no choice.
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A/N: this was supposed to be a little drabble but I got too invested hope thats okay... I wasn't expecting to write this much for izuku but makes sense considering I gave myself more time with this then the bakugo one
can you write something about how long you think it would take Levi to make things official with a girl who’s around his age and also joining the scouts? and the confession around that?
thank you so much! have a great day 🥰
Omg anon you are so sweet! Stop ilyyy T-T
I absolutely will lovely! It’s so CUTE, and one of my top ten fave tropes.
I wasn’t sure wether to make this a personal HC like I did with another ask, or to make it a one shot…I chose HC cause I couldn’t resist making it more analytical than storytelling. But if you’d like this redone any certain way, don’t be afraid to let me know!
I hope you enjoy!! <3
Levi is awkward, in the department or romance.
Strong, bold, no-nonsense, straight to the point—he’s observed by many to be this way on a daily basis regarding every day tasks or ‘out in the field’ so to speak (literally so, if the regiment is out on an expedition).
But when it comes to matters of the heart? He’s a different man entirely.
He relies on his instincts, his loyalty, his strength and agility; so when it comes to feelings? Emotions? Uncharted territory?
He has NO idea how to proceed.
Let’s back this up a bit, and imagine he’s caught feelings for someone—he hasn’t the faintest idea he has, not for a long while. Even if others have spotted the differences.
I’m partial to the “slowest of slow burns” trope in which, to get with Levi, you’ll be waiting a long while for signs your feelings are reciprocated.
At first, he doesn’t even recognize his treatment of you compared to others is anything different or unique—months later he might wonder to himself, as an afterthought, why he’d decided to check up on you first above the others after training. Or maybe, why he’d offered you some of the tea he’d been steeping not long ago when you’d meandered into the room. He’s be stumped, for a moment, but brush it off and push it to the back of his mind.
Perhaps a year would pass before he realized he felt more relaxed when you were around—you were just an adequate soldier, that’s why he felt at ease.
But sooner rather than later—he’s perceptive even if he doesn’t always let on—he realized he can’t use that excuse anymore. Because now? Now that state of relaxation has formed into a state of panic.
Panic, stemming from the way his heart skips in his chest and his words tangle on his tongue whenever it’s just you and him.
Cleaning, training, scouting formation beyond the walls…didn’t matter the circumstance, the situation was the same—he suddenly didn’t know how to act.
Very much unlike him.
He’d never been one to be unsure of his own words before, and now he found himself meticulously preparing each word he’d speak to you before he even opened his mouth.
Deep down, he knew what this might mean.
He’d push it away—push you away.
Another person in his life might fall victim to the fate everyone he knew had; demise. He’d get too caught up, get too distracted, be weak…He couldn't let himself be weak for even a moment.
Though I imagine, with Levi, this bout of distance wouldn’t last too long. He’d miss another’s voice filling the quiet rooms he occupied.
He’d miss the steady comfort of another’s presence, even during mundane tasks or simple down time in which he’d brew his tea to share with you.
He’d miss it so much, he’d find himself plopping down at your table without so much as a word, just wanting to be around you to some extent.
Maybe slowing his squad down on an expedition to ride closer to yours, keeping a watchful eye out for threats.
He’d known you since you’d enlisted in the Corps; around the time he’d been drug up from the Underground and joined the cause himself.
It shouldn’t be difficult to get along with you, what with your ages being close enough in range to be on somewhat of the same level of critical thinking—he told himself every time he found himself feeling secretly flustered or tongue tied around you. Far too often for his liking.
But, nevertheless, the pull to be near you was strong enough to ignore the warnings in his mind—maybe it wasn’t weak to be close to someone, if it meant his heart would quit jackhammering in his chest whenever he lost sight of you…
I imagine a handful of months would pass since he broke his distancing streak, in which he’d recount how much he’d missed you, and what that might mean for himself.
He’d already know what it meant but shhhh
Ideally, he’d opt for a peaceful time to confess his growing admiration, when the world has settled down and threats have dwindled—but since that won’t happen for the foreseeable future, (if we’re talking within the timeline before the war’s end) he might cave and awkwardly admit he values you above many morals he’s held high for years. Both to himself, and to you.
He’s a no-nonsense guy. He doesn’t cut around edges. He doesn’t twiddle his thumbs and wallow in self doubt or insecurity. He still feels it of course, we all do; but I don’t see him being the type to wait it out for some ‘answer from the universe’ or ‘the perfect moment’ either.
When he feels he can admit it, I see him being able to say it—in his own unique ‘Levi way’.
It might be crude, or maybe even a little awkward, but you can tell it’s heartfelt; he speaks with his eyes more than his tongue.
They soften, dilate, shift nervously, linger too long on your lips or shift too quickly away from your eyes.
That message is clearer than his voice.
So overall, tldr; I’d imagine it would take him a few years. From first impressions, to getting acquainted, to finding solace in one another’s presence: it would take him time to adjust to new feelings and weird sensations, but I think his heart would pull him in the right direction before it were too late.
Maybe 2-4 years, from start to finish? (Finish being ‘relationship status’.
Ack I hope this was okay, I sat down and really thought abt it for abt two hrs before writing it out >•< I hope you enjoyed anon! <3
warnings: mentions of your chest and piv, no beta reader, slight sub!sanji if you squint, mutual pining, slight exhibitionism, dirty thoughts, idk how to tag this lol it’s not smut but it’s still kinky
crossposted to ao3 @laughtalelogs
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As much as Sanji denied it, he knew he was a sick, twisted bastard.
Standing like a shadow in the doorway, despite every cell in his body screaming at him to move, his feet planted firmly in the floor. The filter of his unlit cigarette smashed between his gritting teeth as he watched silently.
The way you ate your parfait entranced him, a beautiful display of skill on his part, layers of fluffy greek yogurt he had prepared the day before with spoiled milk, leftover strawberries, and homemade granola loaded on your spoon. The metal slips between plush lips, and when you pull it back out, it sparkles in the midday sun. The demon that resides in him wonders if his skin would do the same in your mouth.
Your pink tongue darts out to lick the remnants on from the corner of your mouth. He clutches the serving tray closer to his chest and he feels his knees tremble with each carefree swipe.
He wonders if you could taste his desperation in the snack, the way he had thought over each layer, scared that it wouldn’t satisfy the hungers in both of you.
Had he subconsciously picked the snack? He asks to himself, the shame of his perversions pulled him deeper in the shadows of his mind.
No, he knew what he had done.
And he enjoyed it.
That sick part of him wanted to see the white drip down your throat, to watch the satisfaction that spread across your face. He watched your fingers trace the edges of the cup, and he had never been jealous of a meal in his life.
You moan, scrapping the remnants of the bowl, you set it down on the deck beside you, sighing in satisfaction. Sanji didn’t think he’d last, recording the sound in his catalog of fappable material for later, as he stepped forward into the light, plastering his usual plastic, dopey smile as he approached you.
You kick your feet as you turn your attention back to the magazine in your lap, a lazy finger skimming the pages. The darkness he casts over you makes you peer up from the page, watching him reach over and swipe the crystal glass you had only set down a moment before.
“Hey, Ji,” the way you sing his name makes his heart hammer in his chest.
“Hi,” He answered lamely, cringing at how how high his voice had risen. He clears his throat, dry from looking down at you, if he looked closely, he could peer down your shirt. “I was just gonna take this for you. Did you enjoy the treat, princess?”
“Like always,” You smile wickedly, ”you always know how to satisfy me.”
He swallowed nothing, his tongue was cotton.
“I always aim to please,” He admits and he feels floaty, the scent of vanilla and strawberries infiltrating his nose. He turns his head to the side. If you kept looking at him like that, he was going to pass out.
“But,” You voice was low, itching the far reaches of his mind where the beast resides, mauling at his rational thoughts. His tie dangles in front of your face, and you reach out, thumbing the silk as he avoids your gaze. You watch his adam’s apple bob nervously as he tugs at the perfect windsor knot. “I want more.”
“Of cours-“ Sanji stops himself though, cursing himself to the pits of hell.
He had given all the crewmates parfaits, and had let Luffy eat the remaining portion. He feels his brow twitch. That idiot didn’t even appreciate it in the way you had, calling it weird pudding, out of all things. Now he had you, begging for more, and he couldn’t even provide that.
“I’m sorry, mon trésor,” He says, voice full of pity, “we are all out. Would you like anything else? I’ll do- I’ll make anything for you”
With a puckered lips and creased eyebrows, you mull over the idea. He wondered if he could get the same look out of you if he was buried between your legs, fanning feathery kisses in the crux of your thighs, sliding ever closer to your center, inhaling deep breaths of your pu-
“I think I’ll just wait,” You sweet voice breaks through his dazed, glossed over eyes, watching his face contort in horror and guilt.
“If you insist.” He jerks up, stiff as board, gripping the glass in his hands so hard his knuckles were stark white, casting a careful gaze that darted over your body. “I’ll leave you to your afternoon then.”
It was cute on him, you think to yourself. The humiliation caused by his own volition.
You watch him march awkwardly to the kitchen, avoiding Usopp and Chopper’s calls from the other side of the deck. The tray he shielded his lower desires, cup tremoring between deft fingers. You sigh, slumping over as soon as the galley doors slam shut.
A sick, twisted part of yourself wondered- what face would he make caged between your thighs? Maybe it’d be that same pathetic look he gave you on more than one occasion. A look that always wound up a tight coil in your stomach, in desperate need of release.
If only he could just take a hint.
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I hope you enjoyed! I wrote this on my phone at like 4 am while listening to sza lmao. i’m still avoiding the other shit I need to write, but this was a nice break from them. back to writing for zoro!
TW: TOXIC!!!!!!!, nsfw, possessive behavior, sacrilegious/sacrilege, god kink, fingering, penetration, cheating, slapping, choking, biting, hair pulling, a little bit of blood is mentioned?, rough sex, bruises, degradation, dirty talk, brat behavior?, slight dacryphilia, Aizen might be obsessed with you, corruption, mating press, petnames used condescendingly
WC: 2.8k
notes: I haven’t written a full length fic in like several years, please be kind and excuse any mistakes in pacing 😭
He fucks his subordinates a lot.
It’s not like he tries very hard to safeguard that little secret - that he’s screwing most of the girls who follow him behind your back. In a way, you feel pity for them, because they don’t know that he still slinks back into the bed you share after each encounter with one of the little girls that he doesn’t even deem worthy of learning their names - but you’ve been the only “woman” in his life, as he puts it, since you first met him forever ago, back when you both were subordinates to Captain Hirako in squad five.
At first, you resented him for the fact that he was a serial cheater. But, to be fair, you had known fully well what you were getting into when you agreed to marry the man, back in the Soul Society. You knew him - the real him - even back then. Because once you had made the mistake of gaining his trust, there was no going back. He told you everything, never hiding a single detail of his master plan from you. By then, it was already too late for you to even consider leaving him - he’d kill you, you knew it - and nobody would believe you about your claims of his evil deeds anyways, because once he was promoted to Captain, nothing could touch him. He knew it, and so did you, so you let him corrupt you instead. It was an easier task than you’d like to admit.
So now, after growing too tired of his adultery, you decided that you’d even the playing field, but you took it further than he had. He’d sleep around with Arrancars that he considered nothing more than canon fodder, ones who weren’t impressive in the slightest, who could never really join his ranks - but who had a pretty face. But you? Well, you fucked Grimmjow. You fucked him a lot, actually. Any time Aizen pissed you off, or you caught him reeking of another girl’s perfume, you’d seek out the Espada and drag him off somewhere to take out your frustrations.
Needless to say, it infuriated your husband when you came to bed with bite marks on your shoulder and blooming bruises on your thighs and on your hips. He gripped your chin hard enough to hurt, the look in his eyes something you had seen countless times, though never directed at you before, cold and sinister. “Who?” He demanded through clenched teeth.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You had the nerve to snark back with a smirk. The hand on your chin had wrapped around your neck before you had a chance to register it, and he had you pinned to the bed, glaring at you with a fire in his beautiful golden eyes that would’ve surely put the fear of God in anybody else, but only stoked a very different kind of fire within you.
“Yes, my dear, I would in fact very much like to know who is sleeping with my wife.” He growled, low and menacing.
“Well, considering every other woman in Los Noches is sleeping with my husband, I’d consider us even. Wouldn’t you say that’s fair, my love?”
He smirks, a cruel and evil look that only serves to further excite you. “I’ve told you, darling, those aren’t women. They’re merely insects to me, little playthings. Nothing more. You, on the other hand, are quite the woman indeed..”
“If that’s the case then, sweetheart, I believe I’ll keep my little plaything as well.” Your coy smile enrages him, his grip on your neck tightens.
“Only one?”
“For now.”
“Tell me who it is.”
“One of your Espada.” The way you say it so proudly, the sweetness in your tone like a deceptively delicious venom. “I’ll let you guess which.” He doesn’t have to. He knows.
Setting his jaw, you catch the barely perceptible twitch of his right eye as he sneers. “Grimmjow..” His voice is a low growl, you know that you’re in danger, but you like it that way.
“Ohhh, look at that - we have a winner! You know, Sosuke my dear, it’s no fun if you guess right on the first—“ His hand collides with your cheek, leaving a stinging pain in its wake from the force of the slap. Turning to face him once more, you blink at him, your expression down right incredulous, as his is simmering with rage.
“You little whore..” His voice is a warning in itself, yet so very addictive. “Fucking someone like him? I had no idea my own wife was so pathetic.”
“How very rich of you to call me a whore. Do you forget your own sins so easily?” The venom in your voice is the sweetest of poisons, Aizen wishes he could drown in it. He’d give a reply about how he has every right to anything that he wants, as his God-like status demands of him, but at this point in his life, he cannot bring himself to place you below him in such a way. If he’s God, then you are the Goddess he defaults to; you rule beside him, but he would carry out your will with all of the power he possesses - he would destroy the entire world with himself in it if you wished him to. You don’t know that Aizen is truly capable of feeling love, but you once thought Sosuke was. You aren’t entirely sure if you are either at this point - but you do believe that you are as close as he could ever get. He hates it. So do you sometimes.
Instead of speaking, he crashes his lips against yours, hungry and possessive, like he’s trying to claim you all over again. He will remind you of your place - of who you belong to - the only way that he knows how, by absolutely ruining you. He’s more civilized than to rip your clothing off of you, instead he very slowly frees you from your confines, each touch as possessive as it is teasing, like he’s branding you with nothing but his bare hands. Unlike Grimmjow, Aizen knows your body like the back of his hand - knows exactly where to touch, and how to touch, to make you fall apart over, and over, and over again. First, on his fingers, the rough pads of such deft fingers curling into your core, he knows exactly where to hit to make you cry out, and he knows that he’s hit his mark when that telltale gasp leaves your lips - breathless and eager for more, like always, and he’ll give you exactly what you want. His thumb presses lightly to your clit, teasing the bundle of nerves with pinpointed circles, varying the pressure he applies so that you can’t quite get used to how he touches you, but the way that your body responds to each touch tells him that he’s doing a good job.
“Did he touch you like this? Tell me, darling, did his fingers feel better than mine?” The man above you asks, his voice low and daring. All you can do is shake your head, a soft “No, sir,” leaving your lips, and he rewards your answer with a sinister smirk and an increase in the ministrations that you’re sure will make you lose your mind before too much longer. But he won’t keep you waiting long, not tonight - no, in fact, he wants to set a new record for how many times he can make you come undone for him tonight, he will unravel you thread by thread until you’ve completely lost yourself in his silken sheets. Then, like an expert seamster, he will put you back together again, only to thoroughly destroy you once more. Once, twice, three times he sends you over the edge with his skilled hands, until the majority of his forearm is covered in the sweet nectar that he considers sacred. All the more reason he’s enraged that you would dare to give it to another, much less someone he considers to be so far below himself.
His stamina is parallel to none, and you can’t tell if that’s a blessing or a curse right now, as each girthy inch of his cock enters you so slowly that it nearly drives you mad, the smirk on his lips is sinister and smug, his eyes just a touch feral. “Tell me, my love, did he feel as good as me?”
You’d sass him if you didn’t fear for your safety if you pissed him off any further tonight. “No, sir - nobody could ever feel as good as y-you..” Your voice hitches as he bottoms out with a low growl at the way that your warm walls engulf him so nicely. He leans over you, with your legs wrapped snugly around his toned waist, his voice a low rumble in your ear. “You flatter me, dear.. Though, none of my playthings could ever hold a candle to you, either..” It makes you question why he has such an affinity for them, then. You don’t ask - can’t ask - as his hips begin to grind against yours, slowly at first, because he knows the way his trimmed hairs grinding against your already overly-sensitive clit, coupled with his cock buried deep inside of you, drives you absolutely insane. He relishes in the way you writhe beneath him, trapped under him so you cannot get away, not like you would try anyways. He doesn’t care, he won’t take the chance. He’ll keep that pace for only a little. His discipline is usually something that he takes great pride in, but right now he only cares about proving a point, and that becomes obvious as he pulls back until only the tip is left inside, and slams back in with a force that reminds you all too well that this man is, in fact, the most powerful being in this entire realm - perhaps even in all three realms. He sets a steady pace, fast and rough but easily sustainable for him, and his hand once again wraps around your throat, squeezing at the sides until your vision starts to blur, and all you can see is that evil, reverent look in his golden eyes as he sends you over the edge of bliss for a fourth time tonight. A dangerous growl reverberates in his chest from the way you try so very hard to cry out in ecstasy, but are only able to just barely squeak out his name instead.
“Such a good girl you are.. It’s easy to forget what a cheap whore you are as well,” He sneers, his pace becoming more ruthless, expression colder. “Running off and fucking one of my men? You dared to let that overgrown house cat leave such filthy marks on your perfect skin?” You’ve never heard him so angry before. It should not be this hot. His fingers find the bruises Grimmjow left behind, pressing into them harshly, glaring daggers at the bite mark left on your shoulder.
“I’m s-sorry..!” All you can do is gasp, his pace is too punishing to even consider taking a much needed deep breath of air, not with how he has your thighs pressed to your chest - he’s always had a preference for having you in a mating press.
An incredulous scoff leaves his lips, the look in his eyes growing progressively more feral as he speaks.
“You’re sorry?” He echos, laughing bitterly. “I’ll show you sorry - my precious, little, slut..” Each word is punctuated by a thrust, he slows his pace just enough for you to catch your breath, just for a minute, because he can’t have you passing out, not this time. No, you won’t learn if you pass out. Once you’ve had what he deems sufficient oxygen, he bends your thighs further back, your lower back lifting up with them, but he effortlessly holds you in place as if the weight is nothing to him (it’s not), his hips falling back into that brutal pace that’s sending you into orbit. Blunt nails dig into the flesh of your thighs, threatening to break the skin that the man above you had only just called perfect moments before - but if Grimmjow left marks on you, then it's only fitting that your husband leaves more, right?
“Sosuke, I—“ For a second time tonight, your voice is cut off by a slap across your face, this time slightly harder. He doesn’t want to actually hurt you, he’d never dare use any more strength than this on you - you’re still his most precious treasure, after all.
“You will speak only when spoken to.” He demands, one arm wrapped around your leg to keep it over his shoulder, meanwhile the hand that had just slapped you moves to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling a bit harder than he means to, glowering down at you. You’re close again, and he knows it, he knows every sign your body gives, no matter how subtle it may be. A cruel smirk once again graces his full lips. “As a matter of fact.. Apologize to me. And I expect you to do it properly this time.”
The brutal pace of his thrusts slows to allow you to speak, though these slower ones are no less intense.
“I-I’m sorry, my love, I—“ He yanks your hair once more, the smirk dropping from his face almost immediately, eyes narrowing with a warning that you dare not ignore. “Please forgive me, my lord.. I’ve sinned, I- I’ve done something terrible, and I’m so- so very sorry..!” The words tumble out of your lips, and for just a moment, you feel like a child apologizing to a priest in a confessional booth. This might be just as cramped as one of those small booths, just as suffocating - in both instances, you’re still hoping that your words might reach the contemplative ear of a God, only yours is the beautiful man above you, and he is far more vengeful. “I’m sorry, Lord Aizen, I’m sorry!” Your words rise in pitch as you approach yet another little death. The God-like man above you smirks once more, you can tell that he’s pleased.
“Pray for your forgiveness, and I may just look past your insolence.”
“Please grant me mercy, my lord.. I’m so very sorry, please— please forgive me for my sins..!” A rich groan leaves his lips as a tear runs down your cheek, his own release nearing from hearing your desperate prayers, from feeling the way that your walls threaten to squeeze the life out of him, because you love it just as much as he does. His hand leaves your hair, his touch is surprisingly gentle, almost tender, as he wipes away the tear from your cheek.
“You’re forgiven, my delightful little whore,” He practically purrs, his pace speeding up once more - although not nearly as punishing as it had been. “Now, cum for me. I want you to scream my name, make sure everyone hears you..” And you do. Oh God, you do - your hands finding purchase on his strong shoulders, nails digging in hard enough to worry the skin, but it only provokes Aizen to go even harder, only pushes him that much closer to his own release. Sounds of your desperate cries of his name echos off of the walls, and you’re certain others can hear, not that you can be bothered to care at this given moment. Aizen follows you over the edge soon after, a deep groan and a heated husk of your name leaving his lips as teeth find your neck, biting hard enough that he can taste a hint of your blood, but you don’t dare stop him, not when it feels this good.
Slowly, he stills on top of you, lets himself lean over you as he balances on his forearms, letting your legs carefully fall to your sides as his eyes take in your beautifully ruined expression. Once again, his hand comes to your cheek to brush away a few more tears that had fallen in your throes of pleasure. His eyes are softer now, his smile almost gentle, and for just the most fleeting of seconds, he looks like the man that you fell in love with again - he looks like your Sosuke. But you know that he’s not. He never really was. It doesn’t stop you from reaching up, your own trembling hand touching his cheek, thumb gingerly stroking over the peak of his cheekbone.
“You look especially beautiful like this, you know?” His voice is softer now, too. “Such a pretty little thing.. I didn’t hurt you too badly, did I?”
“No.. Not too badly..” You answer, still a good bit out of it. But that’s okay. He leans down, pressing his lips to your forehead.
“You did well, my love. Now, let me get you cleaned up.”
Martin is an unidentified fear-based creature: he has the ability to access some powers from the various fear entities, but he will need to eat a that same fear either immediately after/as he's using that power, or have it stored up.
Danny knows about the fears and was researching something when he met Martin.
Web-touched Danny: he starts up investigating about the fears because of spiders, but he's not actually 'touched' until some time later. As the story advances, Danny becomes more aligned with the web, but he never becomes an Avatar.
Martin instinctively knows things about the fears, but he does his best to stay away.
Tied to that, Martin didn't realize the head of the Magnus Institute was an avatar of the eye until he was already having the interview. By then he was too deep to say anything and was afraid to be Known if he said anything.
Martin's status as a fear creature gives him some protection: the cloudiness of the fears that covers him keeps the glance of the Eye, the bloodhounds of the Hunt, and the shadows of the Dark away so long as they don't focus too much on him. Technically it's mostly the Lonely, but the mix of it all helps.
Martin can't become an Avatar: he doesn't know what, but he's aware that something bad will happen to him if he tilts too far in one direction. Using fear powers shifts the balance, so he has to be really careful.
In reality, what will happen to Martin is mostly a transformation into a full fear creature, losing parts of himself and settling as a servant of whatever fear he gave into.
Summary: Doc accidentally shoots Marty with his Shrink Ray. (Also available on AO3)
Pairings: Doc Brown & Marty McFly
Notable tags: humor, dubious science
"Hey, Doc—whoa!" The last thing Marty expected to see walking into Doc's garage was him holding up a gun.
Doc snapped toward Marty's direction at his entrance, now pointing the gun directly at Marty. A bright red light crossed Marty's vision and he squinted as he instinctively raised his hands up.
"Marty?" Doc called, putting the gun down as fast as he had shifted targets.
"Doc?" Marty responded, raising a brow, hands still in the air. Doc rushed over to his unintentional captor and grabbed Marty by the shoulders.
"You're just in time, Marty! I was just about to test out my new Shrink Ray!"
Marty blinked, still trying to get the spots out of his vision. "Shrink Ray?"
Doc jostled Marty excitedly, forcing the boy to grab onto Doc's biceps to keep his balance. "Yes, yes! Come see!"
Doc wrapped his arm around Marty's shoulders and urged him to the center of the garage, where Marty now saw what Doc was originally aiming at: an empty soup can resting atop several miscellaneous stacked items.
"I thought it was getting a little tight in here, so what better way to make space than make everything smaller? Observe." Doc raised his "Shrink Ray" once more and aimed it at the can. This close to it, Marty could see that the gun in question was actually just some kids toy, looking more like a weapon seen on Star Trek than Miami Vice. The only stand out details being the various colored wires wrapped all around the thing.
Once the red laser settled on the can, Doc fired and Marty jumped at the red ray of light that sent the can flying from it's position, followed by the metallic sound of it bouncing around the garage. Doc rushed over to it excitedly and let out a laugh that could only come from a crazed scientist as he picked it up. Holding the can up as high as Doc could, Marty saw that it had, in fact, shrunk.
"Whoa, Doc! That's crazy!" Marty exclaimed, running over to Doc to check out the shrinkified can up close.
"Crazy genius, I know!" Doc said, some smugness in his tone. "Now go back, quickly. The test isn't over yet!"
Doc placed the can back on it's spot and they both rushed back to their position. Doc leveled the gun at the can once more and when the laser landed on it, he fired again. The can was once again sent flying and this time the both of them made it over to the can before it had finished it's bouncing. Doc picked it up yet again only to reveal that it was the same size it had been originally.
"Doc, Doc this is incredible!" Marty said, running his hands through his hair excitedly. Doc tossed the can to him and Marty just barely caught, eyeing it down like it was a brand new guitar.
"Thank you, Marty! I'm rather pleased myself." Doc started, proceeding to fiddle with the Shrink Ray in his hands. "It was an easy little contraption to make. Each wire contributes to the altering of atoms to feasibly make the item in question react appropriately to the sudden change in the density of its matter! I just flip this switch here," he gestured to tiny little lever on the side of the gun, "and everything is appropriately powered to cause the shrink! Now, to get to the real issue at hand, cleaning!"
Marty tossed the can back and forth between his hands as Doc moved to rearrage the stack of items that held up the can previously. On his way over, Doc tripped.
Everything seemed to move in slow motion as Doc fell to the floor. The Shrink Ray flying from his hands. Marty to tossing the can to the ground to rush over to Doc and make sure he's okay. The Shrink Ray hitting the ground and Marty being briefly blinded by a flash of red light before a beam fired from the Ray, shooting past Doc's head and landing straight into Marty's chest.
Doc hit the floor at the same as hit Marty was flung back, hitting the couch in the middle of the room and knocking it on it's back as he made his landing. Doc, ignoring his bruised elbows, quickly gathered himself upwards and ran in the direction his friend went flying.
"Marty!" He yelped. "Marty, are you alright?!"
Doc heard Marty groan before he reached the other side of the upturned couch. Once on the other side, Doc saw…
Marty. Normal sized.
Doc was briefly stunned at the sight before he came back to himself and reached down to help Marty up. "Are you hurt? How do you feel?"
Marty let Doc raise him to a sitting position and leaned back into the hand against his back when he was upright. "I don't think so. I'm definitely gonna be sore tomorrow but I don't think anything's broken."
Doc gently moved the hand on Marty's back to the top of his head and brought up his other head to stretch Marty's eyes wide open. Marty blinked rapidly at the intrusion when Doc was done and before he could ask, Doc stated, "Pupils look alright, so you probably didn't hit your head. You sure you're alright?"
"Yeah, Doc, I'm sure," Marty responded, teenage sass etching into his tone.
The attitude seemed to reassure Doc and he ruffled Marty's hair before bringing his hand up to cup his chin. "Interesting that the Shrink Ray seemed to have no effect on you."
"I wouldn't say no effect," Marty muttered as he slowly began to stand. Doc jumped up much quicker than him.
"It must be size! The Shrink Ray works by shrinking something of regular size and reverting it back to it's regular size if shot a second time. But if something is already too small, yes, if something is too small for it's usual size then it must not be able to shrink it! Fascinating!"
Marty dusted himself off during Doc's musings but came to a stop as he processed some of what he said. "'Too small'? Wait, Doc, what you do you mean 'too small'?"
"Hold that thought, Marty! Maybe I should run some more tests before I start using it too much…" Doc walked off to where the Shrink Ray laid on the ground, muttering to himself all the while. Marty still stood in the same spot.
"Yeah but Doc, what do you mean 'too small for it's usual size'? Doc? Doc?"
