Hands Of Time - Blog Posts

I should...

Make a fan fiction about them 😏

Bonus:

Or maybe a whole polly fanfic 🥰

Guys what if I make a Dr. Saunders dating headcanons and you guys confessed and you accidentally saw his disguise 😍 Or you kissed him and his fake mustache fell off. 🥰

Oh to be loved.

A/n: Kind of a vent? Barely hanging on at the moment.

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the moon filtering in through the curtains, casting a silvery sheen on everything. You and Acronix were tangled up in the warmth of each other on the couch, the world outside forgotten. It was one of those rare, quiet moments when everything felt peaceful—or at least it should have.

You sat with him close, his body relaxed against yours. Your hands cupped his face gently, your thumbs stroking his cheekbones in a repetitive, soothing motion. Acronix closed his eyes, leaning into your touch with an almost boyish smile, clearly enjoying the attention. He looked so serene, so content, that it made your chest ache.

But something wasn’t right.

Under your hands, his face felt so solid, so real, but it was like your own skin betrayed you. The sensation was faint, dull, as if a barrier existed between you. Your fingers felt numb, your chest heavy. The thoughts crept in, unbidden and cruel.

Why am I even here? Why does he want me? He could have anyone, someone stronger, someone better.

You don't deserve him.

You blinked rapidly, trying to force the thoughts away, but they only grew louder, echoing in your mind. Your hands trembled slightly as you continued to hold him, desperate to cling to the moment even as the numbness spread through you like a poison.

Acronix, ever attuned to you, opened his eyes when he felt the subtle tremor in your touch. "Hey," he said softly, his voice laced with gentle concern. His hazel eyes searched your face, and he instantly noticed the tears slipping silently down your cheeks.

His brow furrowed as he straightened slightly, his hands moving to cover yours, holding them firmly against his face. "What’s wrong?" he asked, his tone urgent but tender. "Talk to me."

You tried to shake your head, to dismiss it, but the words spilled out before you could stop them. "I… I don’t deserve you," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Why would you choose me? I’m just—"

You felt unloved.

Why him? You don't deserve him, he deserves someone better, stronger, stronger than you, or better yet, It would've been solved if only you had just gone off of this world—

"Stop," Acronix interrupted firmly, his hands tightening around yours. He sat up fully now, his expression serious but soft, his gaze locking onto yours. "Don’t do that. Don’t talk about yourself like that."

You tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let you. "Hey," he said again, his voice gentler this time. "Look at me."

Reluctantly, you met his eyes, your vision blurred with tears. "I’m not enough," you admitted, your voice barely audible. "I’m not strong or reliable. I’m just… me."

For a moment, Acronix said nothing, his expression unreadable. Then, with deliberate care, he brought your hands down from his face and intertwined his fingers with yours. "Listen to me," he began, his voice steady. "You are more than enough. You’re not some ‘option’ I settled for. You’re the person I chose, the person I want, and I’ll keep choosing you every single time."

His words made your breath hitch, but the ache in your chest remained. He sighed softly, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. "You’re not perfect," he continued, "and guess what? Neither am I. But that’s not what this is about. This—" he gestured between the two of you, "—is about being there for each other. And right now, I’m here for you, just like you’ve always been here for me."

Tears continued to stream down your face as he pulled you into his arms, holding you close against his chest. "You don’t have to be ‘strong’ all the time," he murmured, one hand running through your hair while the other rubbed soothing circles on your back. "And you’re not unreliable, okay? You’re human. You feel things. That’s what makes you… you. And that’s who I love."

His words finally broke through the wall of numbness, and you clung to him tightly, sobbing into his shoulder. Acronix didn’t let go, didn’t rush you. He just held you, letting you pour out every ounce of pain and insecurity.

It took a long hour before your sobs eventually subsided into quiet sniffles, he pulled back just enough to cup your face in his hands, mirroring the way you had held him earlier. "You’re not going to get rid of me that easily," he teased softly, his thumb brushing away a stray tear.

Despite everything, you managed a small, attempt wobbly smile, and he grinned in response. "There’s my favorite smile," he said, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of your lips.

He kept you close for the rest of the night, refusing to let you go back into those dark thoughts. Whenever you started to doubt yourself, he was there with a gentle reminder, a soft touch, a reassuring smile. And even though the ache in your chest didn’t disappear entirely, it was easier to bear with him by your side, holding you together when you couldn’t do it on your own.

He'll hold you as long as you wanted.

You can never be alone when you have him.

©leftalpacavoid 2025.

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 :)

Mark my words everyone, If Acronix and Krux came back, I will make a juicy fanfiction about them 😋 If they had a new appearance I WILL MAKE IT JUICY 🙏 I will make it extremely longer fic and headcanons guys don't worry 😈

🦖 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 😋😋😋