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.
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
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i was so excited to see your requests were open đ
can you write something about how long you think it would take Levi to make things official with a girl whoâs around his age and also joining the scouts? and the confession around that?
thank you so much! have a great day đĽ°
Omg anon you are so sweet! Stop ilyyy T-T
I absolutely will lovely! Itâs so CUTE, and one of my top ten fave tropes.
I wasnât sure wether to make this a personal HC like I did with another ask, or to make it a one shotâŚI chose HC cause I couldnât resist making it more analytical than storytelling. But if youâd like this redone any certain way, donât 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 pointâheâs observed by many to be this way on a daily basis regarding every day tasks or âout in the fieldâ so to speak (literally so, if the regiment is out on an expedition).
But when it comes to matters of the heart? Heâs 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.
Letâs back this up a bit, and imagine heâs caught feelings for someoneâhe hasnât the faintest idea he has, not for a long while. Even if others have spotted the differences.
Iâm partial to the âslowest of slow burnsâ trope in which, to get with Levi, youâll be waiting a long while for signs your feelings are reciprocated.
At first, he doesnât even recognize his treatment of you compared to others is anything different or uniqueâmonths later he might wonder to himself, as an afterthought, why heâd decided to check up on you first above the others after training. Or maybe, why heâd offered you some of the tea heâd been steeping not long ago when youâd meandered into the room. Heâs 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 aroundâyou were just an adequate soldier, thatâs why he felt at ease.
But sooner rather than laterâheâs perceptive even if he doesnât always let onâhe realized he canât 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 itâs just you and him.
Cleaning, training, scouting formation beyond the wallsâŚdidnât matter the circumstance, the situation was the sameâhe suddenly didnât know how to act.
Very much unlike him.
Heâd never been one to be unsure of his own words before, and now he found himself meticulously preparing each word heâd speak to you before he even opened his mouth.
Deep down, he knew what this might mean.
Heâd push it awayâpush you away.
Another person in his life might fall victim to the fate everyone he knew had; demise. Heâd get too caught up, get too distracted, be weakâŚHe couldn't let himself be weak for even a moment.
Though I imagine, with Levi, this bout of distance wouldnât last too long. Heâd miss anotherâs voice filling the quiet rooms he occupied.
Heâd miss the steady comfort of anotherâs presence, even during mundane tasks or simple down time in which heâd brew his tea to share with you.
Heâd miss it so much, heâd 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.
Heâd known you since youâd enlisted in the Corps; around the time heâd been drug up from the Underground and joined the cause himself.
It shouldnât 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 thinkingâhe 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 mindâmaybe it wasnât weak to be close to someone, if it meant his heart would quit jackhammering in his chest whenever he lost sight of youâŚ
I imagine a handful of months would pass since he broke his distancing streak, in which heâd recount how much heâd missed you, and what that might mean for himself.
Heâd already know what it meant but shhhh
Ideally, heâd opt for a peaceful time to confess his growing admiration, when the world has settled down and threats have dwindledâbut since that wonât happen for the foreseeable future, (if weâre talking within the timeline before the warâs end) he might cave and awkwardly admit he values you above many morals heâs held high for years. Both to himself, and to you.
Heâs a no-nonsense guy. He doesnât cut around edges. He doesnât twiddle his thumbs and wallow in self doubt or insecurity. He still feels it of course, we all do; but I donât see him being the type to wait it out for some âanswer from the universeâ or âthe perfect momentâ either.
When he feels he can admit it, I see him being able to say itâin his own unique âLevi wayâ.
It might be crude, or maybe even a little awkward, but you can tell itâs 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; Iâd imagine it would take him a few years. From first impressions, to getting acquainted, to finding solace in one anotherâs 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 ârelationship statusâ.
Ack I hope this was okay, I sat down and really thought abt it for abt two hrs before writing it out >â˘< 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 itâs not smut but itâs 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 wouldnât 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 didnât think heâd 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.
âHey, Ji,â the way you sing his name makes his heart hammer in his chest.
âHi,â 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. âI was just gonna take this for you. Did you enjoy the treat, princess?â
âLike always,â You smile wickedly, âyou always know how to satisfy me.â
He swallowed nothing, his tongue was cotton.
âI always aim to please,â 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.
âBut,â 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 adamâs apple bob nervously as he tugs at the perfect windsor knot. âI want more.â
âOf cours-â 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 didnât 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 couldnât even provide that.
âIâm sorry, mon trĂŠsor,â He says, voice full of pity, âwe are all out. Would you like anything else? Iâll do- Iâll make anything for youâ
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-
âI think Iâll just wait,â You sweet voice breaks through his dazed, glossed over eyes, watching his face contort in horror and guilt.
âIf you insist.â 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. âIâll leave you to your afternoon then.â
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 Chopperâs 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 itâd 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.
â
I hope you enjoyed! I wrote this on my phone at like 4 am while listening to sza lmao. iâm still avoiding the other shit I need to write, but this was a nice break from them. back to writing for zoro!
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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 havenât written a full length fic in like several years, please be kind and excuse any mistakes in pacing đ
He fucks his subordinates a lot.
Itâs not like he tries very hard to safeguard that little secret - that heâs screwing most of the girls who follow him behind your back. In a way, you feel pity for them, because they donât know that he still slinks back into the bed you share after each encounter with one of the little girls that he doesnât even deem worthy of learning their names - but youâve been the only âwomanâ 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 - heâd 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 youâd like to admit.
So now, after growing too tired of his adultery, you decided that youâd even the playing field, but you took it further than he had. Heâd sleep around with Arrancars that he considered nothing more than canon fodder, ones who werenât 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 girlâs perfume, youâd 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. âWho?â He demanded through clenched teeth.
âWouldnât you like to know?â 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 wouldâve surely put the fear of God in anybody else, but only stoked a very different kind of fire within you.
âYes, my dear, I would in fact very much like to know who is sleeping with my wife.â He growled, low and menacing.
âWell, considering every other woman in Los Noches is sleeping with my husband, Iâd consider us even. Wouldnât you say thatâs fair, my love?â
He smirks, a cruel and evil look that only serves to further excite you. âIâve told you, darling, those arenât women. Theyâre merely insects to me, little playthings. Nothing more. You, on the other hand, are quite the woman indeed..â
âIf thatâs the case then, sweetheart, I believe Iâll keep my little plaything as well.â Your coy smile enrages him, his grip on your neck tightens.
âOnly one?â
âFor now.â
âTell me who it is.â
âOne of your Espada.â The way you say it so proudly, the sweetness in your tone like a deceptively delicious venom. âIâll let you guess which.â He doesnât have to. He knows.
Setting his jaw, you catch the barely perceptible twitch of his right eye as he sneers. âGrimmjow..â His voice is a low growl, you know that youâre in danger, but you like it that way.
âOhhh, look at that - we have a winner! You know, Sosuke my dear, itâs no fun if you guess right on the firstââ 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.
âYou little whore..â His voice is a warning in itself, yet so very addictive. âFucking someone like him? I had no idea my own wife was so pathetic.â
âHow very rich of you to call me a whore. Do you forget your own sins so easily?â The venom in your voice is the sweetest of poisons, Aizen wishes he could drown in it. Heâd 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 heâs 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 donât know that Aizen is truly capable of feeling love, but you once thought Sosuke was. You arenât 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 heâs 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. Heâs 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 heâs 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 heâs hit his mark when that telltale gasp leaves your lips - breathless and eager for more, like always, and heâll 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 canât quite get used to how he touches you, but the way that your body responds to each touch tells him that heâs doing a good job.
âDid he touch you like this? Tell me, darling, did his fingers feel better than mine?â The man above you asks, his voice low and daring. All you can do is shake your head, a soft âNo, sir,â leaving your lips, and he rewards your answer with a sinister smirk and an increase in the ministrations that youâre sure will make you lose your mind before too much longer. But he wonât 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 youâve 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 heâs 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 canât tell if thatâs 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. âTell me, my love, did he feel as good as me?â
Youâd sass him if you didnât fear for your safety if you pissed him off any further tonight. âNo, sir - nobody could ever feel as good as y-you..â 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. âYou flatter me, dear.. Though, none of my playthings could ever hold a candle to you, either..â It makes you question why he has such an affinity for them, then. You donât ask - canât 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 doesnât care, he wonât take the chance. Heâll 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.
âSuch a good girl you are.. Itâs easy to forget what a cheap whore you are as well,â He sneers, his pace becoming more ruthless, expression colder. âRunning off and fucking one of my men? You dared to let that overgrown house cat leave such filthy marks on your perfect skin?â Youâve 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.
âIâm s-sorry..!â 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 - heâs 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.
âYouâre sorry?â He echos, laughing bitterly. âIâll show you sorry - my precious, little, slut..â 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 canât have you passing out, not this time. No, you wonât learn if you pass out. Once youâve 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 (itâs not), his hips falling back into that brutal pace thatâs 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?
âSosuke, Iââ For a second time tonight, your voice is cut off by a slap across your face, this time slightly harder. He doesnât want to actually hurt you, heâd never dare use any more strength than this on you - youâre still his most precious treasure, after all.
âYou will speak only when spoken to.â 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. Youâre 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. âAs a matter of fact.. Apologize to me. And I expect you to do it properly this time.â
The brutal pace of his thrusts slows to allow you to speak, though these slower ones are no less intense.
âI-Iâm sorry, my love, Iââ He yanks your hair once more, the smirk dropping from his face almost immediately, eyes narrowing with a warning that you dare not ignore. âPlease forgive me, my lord.. Iâve sinned, I- Iâve done something terrible, and Iâm so- so very sorry..!â 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, youâre 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. âIâm sorry, Lord Aizen, Iâm sorry!â 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 heâs pleased.
âPray for your forgiveness, and I may just look past your insolence.â
âPlease grant me mercy, my lord.. Iâm so very sorry, pleaseâ please forgive me for my sins..!â 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.
âYouâre forgiven, my delightful little whore,â He practically purrs, his pace speeding up once more - although not nearly as punishing as it had been. âNow, cum for me. I want you to scream my name, make sure everyone hears you..â 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 youâre 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 donât 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 heâs not. He never really was. It doesnât stop you from reaching up, your own trembling hand touching his cheek, thumb gingerly stroking over the peak of his cheekbone.
âYou look especially beautiful like this, you know?â His voice is softer now, too. âSuch a pretty little thing.. I didnât hurt you too badly, did I?â
âNo.. Not too badly..â You answer, still a good bit out of it. But thatâs okay. He leans down, pressing his lips to your forehead.
âYou did well, my love. Now, let me get you cleaned up.â
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.
