Can I Ask You A Question?

I should...

Make a fan fiction about them 😏

Bonus:

Or maybe a whole polly fanfic 🥰

🦖 Mini Iron Doom.

It's endearing to think of a mini time twins existing along with their mech, Acronix decided to join the fun of building it together with you.

#TAGS: Fluff, Established relationship, Romantic or platonic you decide, kinda short, Potential OOC, I love acronix man 😋, Bro rates it low just because it wasn't accurate. 💀 Krux is involved in the end I think, Acronix suddenly became a husband material?? 😍

A/n: A little celebration for successfully building the iron doom in my part and shout out to my cousin for helping me out for this and the last part is almost finished. [Poor fingers]

⪼ 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 ࿐ཽ༵☆

.ᨏᨐᨓ ◆ ᨓᨐᨏ.

The knock on the door pulled you from your sleepiness. You hadn't been expecting anything—or rather, you hadn't been paying attention to your own plans. Acronix, lounging nearby, looked up from his phone with curiosity. "That for you?" he asked, gesturing lazily toward the door.

You got up sluggishly, your movements slow but laced with a flicker of curiosity. When you opened the door, you were greeted by the sight of a parcel—a large one. Instantly, a small, almost imperceptible jolt of excitement zipped through your chest. It had arrived.

Dragging the box inside, you placed it on the table, your fingers fumbling to open it. Acronix stood and wandered over, his curiosity piqued. "What’s in the box? Did you order another set of… what are they called? Funky Pops?"

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help a faint smile as you shook your head. "No. It's the Dawn of the Iron Doom set."

Acronix's eyebrows shot up, his expression shifting into one of impressed surprise. "You’re kidding. They actually shipped it? I thought you’d be sulking about that delay forever."

You chuckled softly, already pulling out the pieces and the instruction manual. The set was massive—far bigger than you remembered from the promotional images. Just looking at the number of bags and pieces was overwhelming, and your excitement faltered for a second. Where were you even supposed to start?

Acronix noticed the hesitation and smirked. "Looks like you bit off more than you can chew," he teased, leaning on the table.

You huffed but didn’t respond. The truth was, he wasn’t wrong. The sheer size of the project felt daunting now that it was in front of you.

"Alright, alright," he said, straightening up. "Scoot over. I’ll help you."

You blinked, surprised. "Really? You want to help?"

Acronix shrugged, his smirk softening into something more genuine. "Why not? I built a lot of stuff like this when I was younger. Besides, it’s our Iron Doom, isn’t it? Might as well get my hands dirty."

The mention of "our" tugged at your heart, but you didn’t dwell on it. Instead, you nodded, grateful for the company.

He grabbed the book manual while you started sorting the pieces into piles. Acronix flipped through the pages, muttering about how unnecessarily complicated some of the steps looked. "Who designs these things? Sadists, probably."

You snorted. "Says the guy who literally forced a paralyzed man to build a time-traveling mech—"

Acronix cut you off by putting a gloved finger in your lips "Shush, First of all, that was for science—and domination, obviously," he shot back, grinning. "This? This is just... unnecessarily tedious."

Despite his complaints, Acronix dove in, taking charge of the first few steps. You followed his lead, handing him pieces as he needed them and occasionally building smaller components yourself.

As the minutes turned into hours, the initial awkwardness of working together faded. Acronix's lighthearted banter kept the mood from growing too serious, and you found yourself laughing more than once.

"Okay, but seriously," he said at one point, holding up a tiny piece, "what is the point of this? It doesn’t even connect to anything."

"It’s decorative," you replied, rolling your eyes. "You wouldn’t understand."

"Decorative? It’s a waste of perfectly good plastic," he argued, though his smirk betrayed his teasing tone.

Piece by piece, the Iron Doom began to take shape. The mechanical details were intricate, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how well-designed the set was. Acronix, however, took every opportunity to critique the accuracy—or lack thereof.

"This doesn’t even look like the real thing," he said, squinting at the almost-completed cockpit. "Where’s the terrifying aura? The doom? This is more like the Mildly Inconvenient of the Iron Doom."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Maybe you should’ve been a toy designer instead of a time villain."

"Nah," he said, leaning back and inspecting his work. "Toys don’t scream in terror when you conquer them."

By the time you placed the final head piece on the set, both of you were tired but undeniably satisfied. The Iron Doom stood tall on the table, it was actually bigger than you thought.

"Not bad," Acronix said, crossing his arms and nodding in approval. "Still not as good as the original, but I’ll give it a solid seven out of ten."

You rolled your eyes but smiled. "It’s perfect."

He glanced at you, his smirk softening. "Yeah. It’s not bad. And hey, you’re not sulking anymore, so I guess my work here is done."

"Your work??" you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Yep," he said, plopping down on the couch with an exaggerated sigh. "You’re happy, the Iron Doom is built, and I didn’t even have to wash any dishes today. Total win for me."

You shook your head, but the warmth in your chest lingered. For the first time in days, you felt lighter—like maybe, just maybe, things were going to be okay.

Until remembered the other last part.

.•♫•♬•◇•♬•♫•.

The sound of clinking pots and pans echoed faintly from the kitchen as you entered the dining room, rubbing your hands together. Your fingers felt like they’d been put through a workout—aching, sore, and stiff from hours of assembling the last tiny lego pieces. You glanced at them, flexing experimentally, only to wince at the dull, throbbing pain. Building that massive set had been worth it, but now your hands felt like they’d gone on strike.

As you sat at the dining table, still flexing your fingers, Acronix was the first to notice you. He had just brought over a steaming dish and set it down when his eyes landed on your hands. "What’s with you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "You look like you’ve just survived a battle."

You gave a sheepish chuckle, holding up your hands as if showing them off. "It’s the Legos. My fingers are so sore I don’t think I’ll be able to hold anything for the next week."

Acronix squinted at your hands, then at you. "Seriously? From Legos? You’re telling me tiny blocks defeated you? Also why didn't you invite me for help?"

"It’s not funny," you protested, though your lips twitched in the beginning of a smile. "Those pieces are tiny, and there are hundreds of them! You’d be sore too if you spent hours building like I did, and I'll be fine, thanks."

"Hours, huh?" he muttered, shaking his head. "You’re lucky I’m not Krux. He’d probably give you a lecture about moderation and how this is all ‘entirely avoidable.’"

Before you could respond, Krux appeared from the kitchen, carrying a pot of soup. His hazel eyes immediately scanned the room, and he frowned when he saw you flexing your fingers. "What happened now?" he asked, his voice tinged with exasperation.

"Legos," Acronix said, smirking as he leaned against the table. "Apparently, our dear builder here overworked themselves and now can’t feel their fingers."

Krux sighed heavily, setting the pot down and crossing his arms. "And you let them do this?" he asked Acronix, who shrugged in mock innocence.

"Hey, don’t blame me. They were the one who wanted to build the Iron Doom set, remember?"

"That’s not the point," Krux said, turning his attention to you. "You should’ve taken breaks. Overworking yourself like this is irresponsible."

"I know, I know," you mumbled, looking down at your hands. "But I just wanted to finish it."

Krux sighed again, his expression softening slightly. "And now you’re paying the price for your impatience. Typical."

Before you could argue, Acronix swooped in, grabbing your hands gently and inspecting them. "Alright, alright, enough with the scolding," he said to his brother. "It’s not like they broke anything. Just some sore fingers. We’ll fix it."

Krux raised an eyebrow. "And how do you plan to do that?"

Acronix grinned. "Simple. A little TLC."

A what???

He disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, returning with a bowl of warm water and a towel. Setting them on the table, he gestured for you to sit still. "Hands, please," he said, smirking.

You hesitated, feeling a little embarrassed, but when he wiggled his fingers impatiently, you relented. He took your hands carefully, dipping them into the warm water. The heat immediately soothed the soreness, and you let out a small sigh of relief.

"See? Already better," Acronix said smugly.

Krux, meanwhile, sat down at the table, his arms crossed as he observed. "You’re coddling them," he said, though his tone lacked the usual stern type.

"Yeah, well, someone has to," Acronix shot back, carefully massaging your fingers under the water. "Besides, you’re the one who’s always going on about taking care of your tools. Consider this maintenance."

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at the bickering, the warmth of the water and Acronix’s attention making you feel cared for despite the soreness. "Thanks," you murmured, glancing between the two of them.

"Don’t mention it," Acronix said, grinning. "But next time, pace yourself, alright? Or better yet, let me build half of it. I’m pretty sure I’m faster anyway."

"Debatable," you said, smiling despite yourself.

Krux sighed, standing and heading back to the kitchen. "Dinner will be cold if we keep indulging this nonsense," he said, though you caught the faintest hint of a smile on his face.

As Acronix finished tending to your hands and you all sat down to eat, you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. Even though your fingers were still a bit sore, but the warmth they give in this situation although with a humor in it—was more than enough to make up for it.

©leftalpacavoid 2024.

GUESS WHO BOUGHT THE IRON DOOM SET, AND SUDDENLY I'M NOT ILL ANYMORE 😋😋😋

look at the pretty picture I took!!

Which ones prettier? Up for debate.

((I like the second one))

I like the first one ^w^ But I am more in love with the second one 🔥😍

❀ The Lawn Is Dead.

— He couldn't protect you, Now all he had was the record of your voice.

#TAGS: Angst, Acronix is potentially OOC, What happened to us? We die like men 🗣️, No comfort for him this time, (4.5k words I think)

A/N: I don't know if there is something is wrong with me 😔

⪼ 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 ࿐ཽ༵☆

They say grief is part of the human nature, That's why, We should always cherish our love ones before they go.

Acronix sat on the edge of the bed, gripping a small doll version of you in his hand. The doll was soft, stitched together with care, and it eerily resembled you—down to the details you’d once laughed about when you first saw it. But now, the doll was all he had left. His fingers trembled as he brushed them over its fabric, the weight of the loss settling heavily in his chest.

His thumb hovered over the little button embedded in the doll’s chest. He knew what would happen when he pressed it, yet he couldn’t help himself. With a sharp intake of breath, he pressed down, and your voice echoed softly through the tiny speaker, “I love you.”

The sound of your voice hit him like hard, sending a rush of emotion through him. He closed his eyes, as if hearing you again could bring you back, as if those three simple words could fill the void you had left. The moment felt too short, too fleeting. His chest tightened, and before he could stop himself, he pressed the button again.

“I love you,” your voice repeated, gentle and sweet, like you were right there beside him.

Acronix’s hand shook as he pressed the button again, and again, and again.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

It's not enough. Each time, the same words, the same tone, the same warmth. But it wasn’t enough. No matter how many times he heard it, it couldn’t bring you back. The doll couldn’t laugh with him, couldn’t tease him, couldn’t look at him with those eyes that used to make everything feel right in the world. It was just a recording, just a memory that he could never touch again.

His breathing grew shallow as he pressed the button harder, faster, desperate to hear your voice one more time, over and over. “I love you.” The words, which once brought him joy, now tore him apart, reminding him of the reality he couldn’t escape. You were gone. No matter how many times he pressed that button, no matter how many times he heard those words, you weren’t coming back.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you-”

The doll’s soft fabric began to crumple under the force of his grip, but he didn’t care. He was lost in it now, lost in the sound of your voice, trying to hold onto something that was already slipping away. His mind raced, memories of you flashing before his eyes—your smile, your laughter, the way you’d look at him with that knowing gaze. Every memory felt like it was slipping through his fingers, just like you had.

His breath hitched, and he pressed the button again, his thumb almost numb from the pressure. “I love you." He gritted his teeth, trying to hold back the flood of emotion that was building inside him, but it was no use. The dam broke. His face contorted, his chest heaving with sobs he had been holding back for too long. The weight of it all, the loneliness, the regret, the pain of your absence—it all came crashing down on him at once.

The doll slipped from his hands as he collapsed to the floor, his shoulders shaking violently. His sobs filled the room, raw and broken, a sound that hadn’t escaped him in years. He had lost battles, lost wars, but nothing had ever felt like this. Nothing had ever hurt this deeply, He lost you. He curled into himself, burying his face in his arms, his body trembling with each breath.

You were gone. He couldn’t protect you, couldn’t save you. And now, all he had was this haunting reminder of what he’d lost. His hands clenched into fists, pounding against the floor as if that could somehow change things, as if his pain could bring you back. But nothing would.

The doll lay next to him, its small, empty eyes staring up at him as if mocking his grief. His hand reached out to it again, almost instinctively, but he hesitated. He couldn’t press that button again. He couldn’t hear those words anymore. Not when you weren’t there to say them for real.

I'm sorry.

His chest ached as he stared at the doll, his vision blurred by tears. The reality of it all settled over him like a crushing weight. You were gone. And all he had left was this sound of your voice, a painful memory that would never be enough.

And in that moment, Acronix broke. He clutched the doll to his chest, his sobs muffled as he whispered your name, over and over, like a prayer. But no one was listening. No one would ever answer.

"𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶."

©leftalpacavoid 2024

That's so sigma

My personal headcanon is that the Vermillion Warriors aren’t entirely familiar with human concepts like “boyfriend” or “girlfriend” because those terms are specific to human culture. They wouldn’t associate relationships with social expectations like humans do (ex., romance, dating, or fitting into modern relationship norms). Instead, their focus would be entirely driven by instinct. They might view human relationships as unnecessary or overly complicated. Their behavior is more akin to animals, where a male courts a female by competing with rivals to prove himself as a worthy mate for life. The Vermillion Warriors follow similar instincts, needing to demonstrate their capability to protect, provide, and prove their superiority over others. This aligns with their drive to show strength and worthiness, and earning the title of a successful mate. That’s why they use the term “mate” for their significant other. Because it carries a deeper meaning to them than typical human relationships. When they call you their mate, it signifies that they’ve chosen you as someone to share their life with—a partner they want to protect, provide for, and remain loyal to.

And that all sums up my thoughts.

[I should start writing instead of yapping my bad—]

I DREW AGENT JAY TO DW POOKIE I GOT YOU

Finished it 5 muinets ago. Tempted to do acronix.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH THIS IS SO GOOD YOU ARE SO TALENTED ILYYY <33333

Hey everybody, I'm completely fine for spamming request whether you have any ideas for your very be loved time twins themselves. Don't be shy to reach out I love all of them as they are now in my drafts in works, I understand how it is to be feeling like an outsider because you had no idea where to reach out on when blogs only existed for the ninja only and I am here so you wouldn't carry the burden alone, I'll be the go-to option because I'm always flooded with ideas. ♡

Remember, I Exist :)

🐱 Jealous~?

— It's just a kitten he thought, Although he can't even comprehend a small as a feline would steal your attention other than him, wishing it's Him instead.

REQUESTED?: No.

Paired Character: Acronix, GN! Reader.

#TAGS: Pure fluff drabble, Kind of short, Acronix is either potentially OOC, This kitten stealing your attention is onto something 🤔 Nothing else is added more. {4.3k words.} Enjoy Reading! ^^

⪼ 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 ࿐ཽ༵☆

—ᥫ᭡—

You're sitting on the couch, gently cradling a tiny kitten that somehow crawled its way into your arms. The kitten is purring, blissfully curled up against you, and you're utterly charmed by the little fluffball. You’re so wrapped up in its warm, tiny body and soft meows that you hardly notice Acronix sitting beside you. But he’s watching—closely.

At first, he simply crosses his arms, leaning back and pretending not to care. He raises an eyebrow, tapping his fingers against his arm, watching as you whisper to the kitten, stroking its soft fur with all the gentleness he’s used to seeing from you — the kind he’d like to think is reserved just for him. But today? No, today it's directed at some random kitten who wandered into your life and nestled itself all too comfortably in what he has silently claimed as his spot.

He tries to keep his jealousy in check. After all, it’s just a kitten, right? But as the minutes pass, the little fuzzball only seems to be making itself more at home in your arms. Acronix clears his throat, hoping to catch your attention. But instead, you just coo at the kitten, rubbing your cheek against its tiny head, oblivious to Acronix's presence.

Finally, he decides to say something. "So... that’s a cute kitten," he says with feigned casualness, though his eyes are laser-focused on the little fur thief in your lap. "Pretty sure I heard you say I was your favorite, though." He shoots you a playful but pointed look, half-expecting you to laugh and put the kitten aside. But you just glance up with a teasing smile, nodding as you return your attention to the kitten, murmuring something sweet to it in a voice that Acronix realizes with a pang is usually reserved for him.

The kitten purrs louder, sinking deeper into your arms. He frowns. "Are you seriously ignoring me for… this little ball of fluff?" His voice is half-amused, half-annoyed, trying to mask the jealousy he knows is radiating from him. You glance at him, the amusement twinkling in your eyes, but you’re not letting go of the kitten just yet.

"Acronix, it's just a kitten," you say with a small chuckle, clearly entertained by his reaction.

But Acronix is determined. He moves closer, practically leaning against you as he makes it his mission to reclaim his spot. He throws an arm over your shoulders and rests his head on your shoulder, sighing dramatically. "I mean, I get it. The kitten's cute," he says, his tone almost mocking as he inches closer. "But, I mean, I’m here too, you know." He gives you a little nudge, his eyes locked on the kitten, hoping it’ll take the hint and scoot over. It does not.

Instead, the kitten purrs louder, curling up even tighter in your lap and stretching out one little paw possessively, as if to say, This human is mine. It knows what he's feeling right now, yet it decided to stay.

Acronix rolls his eyes, muttering something about “clingy cats” under his breath, but he’s visibly growing more impatient. He reaches over and gently pokes the kitten, testing if it might move on its own. But the kitten just squeaks—a shrill, startled sound that makes you laugh, and makes Acronix even more annoyed.

"Really?" he huffs, looking at the kitten like it’s his mortal enemy. "This little thing has you wrapped around its paw?"

You smile at him and try to gently put the kitten down, giving it a little nudge to encourage it to move. But the moment you try to lift it, the kitten lets out a loud (scream) meow, clinging to your arm and wriggling stubbornly to stay in place.

'This cat..—' Acronix thought in annoyance.

It’s as if the kitten knows exactly what it’s doing — making a bold claim on you that leaves Acronix rolling his eyes in irritation, muttering under his breath about dramatic cats.

Finally (but reluctantly), you manage to carefully set the kitten down on the floor, and it settles with an annoyed little meow of its own. But Acronix doesn’t waste a second. The moment you’re free, he took the opportunity and swoops in, wrapping his arms around you possessively and pulling you close to his chest, almost as if he’s trying to erase the kitten’s scent from your skin. He leans in, his face inches from yours, a smirk playing on his lips.

"There. Now that that distraction is out of the way," he says, his voice a low murmur as he nuzzles into your hair, "I can finally have you back where you belong." He holds you a little tighter, burying his face in your shoulder, breathing in the comforting scent of your warmth.

You laugh, wrapping your arms around him, finally giving him the attention he’s been vying for all this time. He lets out a deep, satisfied sigh, holding you close, his fingers tracing gentle patterns along your back as if he’s making sure you don’t slip away again.

After a few quiet moments, he glances down, shooting the kitten a smug look. "See, furball? This spot? Mine."

©leftalpacavoid 2024.