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latestmarketblogupdates · 2 years

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Cleaning And Disinfection Robots Market - Forecast(2022 - 2027)

Cleaning And Disinfection Robots Market is projected to reach revenue of $2.44 billion by 2025, and is estimated to grow at a CAGR of 10.3% during the forecast period 2020-2025. Lack of hygiene and poor sanitation are the key factors leading to various diseases such as cholera, diarrhea, dysentery and hepatitis. To overcome them medical and medical and healthcare expenditure increases. Thus the focus on hygiene increases along with methods to increase disease prevention.

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Key Takeaways

Disinfectant Robot Market is estimated to grow at a CAGR of 10.3% owing to the rising demand of hygiene globally across various sectors.

North America accounts for largest share in terms of revenue owing to its industrial requirements due to stringent government regulations regarding the maintenance of hygiene.

The rise in the number of patients affected by Coronavirus has also boosted the need for disinfectant robots recently which are deployed in hospitals to disinfect them.

By Type - Segment Analysis

By type the Cleaning And Disinfection Robots Market is segmented into Hydrogen Peroxide Vapor and Ultraviolet Light. Among these Ultraviolet Light Robots held the largest share in the market in 2019 owing to the increasing number of viral diseases across the world. These Robots can efficiently disinfect hospitals and industries using UV light. These sectors have higher demand for the robots as they can invest in such devices rather than man power. Moreover, according to the IEEE spectrum these robots have been operating in China over last few weeks due the impact of coronavirus.

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By End-User - Segment Analysis

By the end-user segment, is the Healthcare industry is the fastest growing with a CAGR of 6%. This rise is said to be due to the spread of Covid-19 around the world. Furthermore, to prevent the spread of such infections and diseases, hospitals regularly need to disinfect their furniture and surfaces. The manual methods are time consuming and may not be totally germ free. But use of these robots can prove much effective in cleaning.

Geography - Segment Analysis

North America accounts for major share of the market by region and holds 33% of the Cleaning And Disinfection Robots Market share. This is owing to the technological advancements in that region. Moreover, the increasing demand of automated devices in healthcare and industrial facilities are driving the market growth. Also stringent regulation by government in this region regarding hygiene is also a major factor increasing the use of disinfectant robots. Furthermore, these robots help lower labor cost, improve cleaning efficiency and lower the chances of contagious germs which have increased their adoption in various sectors of North America.

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Drivers – Cleaning And Disinfection Robots Market Increased Incidence of Communicable Disease

The increasing number of communicable diseases along with the technological advancement in robots to detect germs and pathogens are driving their growth in healthcare industry. These robots prevent spread of infectious diseases, Healthcare Associated Infection (HAI) and other pathogens. Moreover, these robots can also detect pathogens or germs and clean it.

Rise in Covid-19

With the increasing spread of Covid-19, the need for UV robots has increased in hospitals in various countries. These robots can effectively disinfect hospitals using UV light to disinfect surfaces. With the help of these robots it generally takes two or three minutes to disinfect surfaces. Increase in the number of patients having coronavirus is driving the growth of Cleaning And Disinfection Robots Market as the need for fast and effective disinfection methods are required.

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Challenges – Cleaning And Disinfection Robots Market High Cost of Disinfectant Robot High cost of Disinfectant Robot is a major factor restraining its market growth during the forecast period 2020-2025. Robots such as Roomba and Sccoba cost a huge amount of money which can’t be afforded by common people. These robots have more preference in large scale use such as industrial applications. In addition, the cost of maintenance and repair is also high further restraining the market growth.

Disinfectants Robots Market Outlook

Technological advancements are some of the key factors adopted by players in the Cleaning And Disinfection Robots Market. Disinfectants Robots top companies are Bioquell Inc., Blue Ocean Robotics Norway As, Clorox Co and Ultraviolet devices, Ecovacs Robotics Inc, Intellibot Robotics LLC, IRobot Corporation, Lumalier Corp, Siemens, Aucma, Kuka Ag.

Acquisitions/Research & Development Launches:

In November 2019, ASME introduced UVD Robots for autonomously disinfecting hospital wards with germicidal UV rays. These robot can guarantee hospitals 99.99% disinfection rates, which reduces the infection risk of patients and staff. In February 2020 Sunay Healthcare Supply collaborated with UVD Robots to help address the coronavirus in China. With Ultraviolet light (UV) the Robot can disinfect and kill viruses and bacteria, effectively limiting the spread of coronavirus benefiting hospital staff by reducing their risk to infection.

#cleaning and disinfection robots market #cleaning and disinfection robots market size #cleaning and disinfection robots market shap

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pretzel-box · 1 month

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PROLOGUE: WELCOME TO URBANSHADE

Word count: 3,3k

Tags: GN!reader, Graphic mention of surgery and experiments on a human body

Summary: You get hired by Urbanshade, thanks to your father, but every start has its obstacles. And some obstacles might feel deeper than they should be.

The time on the wall clock showed it was just a few minutes past noon. Warm sunlight gently crept into the waiting room through the tall panoramic windows of the building. A quick glance to the side, catching a glimpse of the clock, was enough to tell you that it would still be a few moments before it was time to move from the comfort of the leather chair you were currently sitting on. Your freshly disinfected hands clung nervously to your phone as you swiftly scrolled through the list of contacts you had saved over time. You were so focused that it startled you slightly when another caller ID popped up on the bright screen, displaying the picture of your father's face.

This particular man had called you a lot lately, sticking his nose into your business after you dared to ask him for a tiny favor, hoping he would help since you are his beloved only child. But one thing you didn't expect from him at that specific moment was that he would take the opportunity to call you, considering that he was somewhere on the ocean.

He works as a high-class businessman, primarily sponsoring a company called Urbanshade. You didn't know much about them, but your dad mentioned something about how they specialize in underwater mining with some high-tech inventions. This explained his temporary stay on one of Urbanshade's ships, where they were testing and showcasing another new underwater mining robot of some sort, called Trenchbleeder. Your dad had funded the whole project over the past few months, so he was more than excited to see how his money was being put to good use.

"Did they call you yet?" Despite the slight static, the seagulls, and the waves in the background, you could make out the strict tone in his voice. Of course, he was curious. You had asked your dad if he knew someone who would hire you, his child. And naturally, the first thing he applied you for was a position at one of Urbanshade's research facilities. They weren't really looking for new employees in the first place, but your dad was very close to the higher-ups, so he bought the job for you. The fact that he paid the company to hire you made your stomach twist in discomfort, but it was too late to turn back and say no. "I risked a lot by doing that for you."

He referred to the payment he had made on your behalf, and you could feel the pressure he had placed on your shoulders.

You nodded, even though your dad couldn't see it over the phone. "I'm at their building, sitting in the waiting room. We're signing the contract today." You tried to sound confident, but you knew your dad could see right through your facade. "They should be calling me into the office soon."

Your name was called loudly through the room before your dad could reply, and he would probably have given you another warning not to mess it up for his reputation's sake. "Sorry, Dad, it's time."

You ended the call with a swift push of the red button, putting your phone on mute so nothing would distract you during the meeting with one of the higher-ups at Urbanshade. The lady at the reception told you where to go, and another employee guided you to a glass room, where a middle-aged man in an expensive-looking suit was seated. His arms were crossed, and the way he scanned your application papers made your stomach turn.

The man must have noticed your little stare from the other side of the glass wall because he looked up from the file, and it wasn't hard to miss the coy smile on his lips. The previous expression on his face was quickly replaced with a more welcoming one. "Ah, we finally meet. Your father has already told me a good deal about you."

"I am grateful for the opportunity to work for your company, Mr. Wiltshire." First impressions count, especially at a company like Urbanshade. So you took the opportunity to present yourself in the best possible light, even if it meant pretending to be something you're not—in this case, motivated and interested. Your hand almost raised itself to offer a polite and respectful handshake.

"I assure you, we are the ones who are honored to welcome you to our team. Welcome to Urbanshade."

A few months passed after Urbanshade recruited you, and it didn't take long for you to get the hang of all the small details involved in your job at the luxurious office—details like how the overpriced coffee machine worked, how to sort the endless stacks of paper files, and even how to avoid getting on your new boss's bad side. At this point, you'd even admit it feels like being a well-paid version of an intern since your higher-ups only trusted you with minor tasks so far.

Despite the simplicity and comfort of the tasks, you volunteered more than once for harder assignments, showing your most motivated side in the hope of getting a little more action in your otherwise boring life. But every single time, Mr. Wiltshire blocked you off with a polite smile and a shake of his head. "You're not ready yet."

It was frustrating; you felt there was more behind it than just a lack of skills, but you couldn't force your way into the deeper levels of the job without risking ruining it all for yourself.

A high-pitched female voice suddenly pulled you out of your regular daydreams, making you aware that you were indeed not alone at the moment. "Ah, look who's here!" Your black-haired co-worker beamed at you with the fakest smile you had ever seen, making you raise your eyebrow slightly. The action didn't go unnoticed by her, and you could feel her sharp acrylic nails digging uncomfortably into your left shoulder. "Be a sweetheart," she started again, leaning in from behind and speaking directly into your ear, "and take care of my files too, alright?" She no longer tried to hide her snarky tone and instead showed you her true nasty attitude. "We don't want Mr. Wiltshire to see how much you slack off at work, right, hon?" The pain slowly disappeared as she lifted her hand from your shoulder, wiping it off on her expensive business blazer. A glance over your shoulder to meet her gaze was enough.

Her smug smile hit a nerve deep inside you, but you swallowed your newfound anger like the smarter person and just nodded without a word. In the end, it wasn't worth the drama, and maybe you could use the opportunity to score some extra credit points with your boss if he saw you doing some well-executed extra work.

The fake woman left the moment you tried to open your mouth to give her a straightforward answer, leaving you behind like some worthless object in the middle of the office. By this point, it wasn't really offensive to you since you strongly disliked that woman for her weird attitude toward you, and every second without her was surely a good second. After watching her leave and get into the elevator at the end of the hall, you turned around too and slowly made your way to the coffee machine in the plain break room, pouring yourself a nice cup of dark liquid into your favorite mug. You would surely need it if you had to put in some extra hours to get the work done. With newfound motivation, you left the room and headed to your co-worker's personal office.

It was a neat space inside a glass room, furnished with minimalist-style furniture and a nice office chair made of quality leather. Some of the woman's personal items were scattered across the mahogany table, and your lips curled up as you felt the smooth surface of the table, thinking you could earn one of those fancy offices yourself if you worked hard enough.

Then you saw the stack of brown files on the table. It was in an unacceptable, messy state, with paper corners sticking out from all sides and some mysterious stains on the front covers. Yet, the weirdly pleasant smell of cigarettes and old paper hit your nose, filling you with a strange, comforting feeling all over again. Your eyes also didn't fail to notice the bright yellow note on the stack, with a hastily written message in black ink:

"Please sort by Thursday night. Return Z-13 file to higher-up when done."

Reading it gave you a sudden boost of excitement, seeing that there must be an interesting file usually in the hands of higher-ranked people. You didn't question it but rather saw it as an opportunity to dive deeper into the business that Urbanshade conducts, sensing a way to escape the boring intern tasks and join them on the front lines, maybe even leading a mining operation in the exciting underwater world.

Your hands took the small note from the files, discarding it without a care into the bin, assuming your co-worker was aware of it since she knew about the work the files required. It was another simple job of sorting papers and making sure everything was in its place before returning them to the basement archives below the building.

The warm, rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee replaced the smell in the small office as you took a careful sip from your favorite mug. The dark liquid was the only thing keeping you grounded amidst the tension of the day. Your fingers traced the rim of the warm cup absentmindedly as you scanned the chaotic stack of files on the mahogany desk.

Determined to make a good impression by sorting through the files with precision, you placed your mug at the edge of the desk, within easy reach. You started to carefully separate the documents, making piles according to their categories, when your mind began to wander.

You reached for another file, but just as you were about to grab it, your elbow knocked against your mug. Time seemed to slow as you watched in horror as the mug tipped over, spilling hot coffee across the desk. The dark liquid cascaded like a wave, soaking the neatly sorted papers in seconds.

"No, no, no!" you gasped, frantically grabbing at the files, trying to salvage what you could. But it was too late—the coffee had already seeped into most of the pages, leaving large brown stains that spread and blurred the ink in matter of seconds. The once crisp documents were now soggy and wrinkled, some of the text smearing into an illegible mess.

Your heart pounded as you stared at the ruined files. A wave of panic surged through you. These weren’t just any papers; they were official documents, meant to be returned to the higher-ups. And that one file—about something called Z-13—it was supposed to go directly to someone important. You remembered the note and its simple instructions, now crumpled in the waste bin, and felt a sinking dread.

Grabbing a handful of napkins from the small break room drawer, you desperately tried to blot the coffee from the papers, but the evidence of your mistake would be painfully clear, no matter how hard you tried to save the files. The edges of some files were curling up, the ink bleeding out, and some of the pages were beyond saving. The more you wiped, the worse it seemed to get.

You slumped into the leather chair, your hands trembling as you stared at the coffee-stained disaster in front of you. What would Mr. Wiltshire say? Worse, what would your father think if he found out? The pressure to prove yourself, to show that you were capable of handling the job, suddenly felt crushing.

With a deep breath, you tried to calm your racing thoughts. There had to be a way to fix this. Maybe you could reprint the damaged documents, or perhaps there were backups somewhere in the archives. You needed a plan, and fast. But first, you had to get rid of the evidence of your mistake—before anyone saw the mess you had made.

Forcing yourself to think clearly, you carefully gathered the soaked files, praying that you could come up with a solution before anyone found out about the spill. And then you saw it, the important file with big red letters on the cover, slightly drenched in warm coffee. The damage seemed to be at a visible minimum, making you slightly relax despite all the panic in your body.

Your finger traced over the paper cover before picking the file up from the messy table. It was slightly heavy, and as you felt the weight of the file in your hands, a ripple of curiosity surged through you. You hesitated for a moment, wondering what kind of secrets might be concealed within these pages. But the urge to know won out, and you carefully opened the front cover, revealing a neatly typed summary that seemed to offer a glimpse into the contents of the file.

The first thing that caught your eye was a series of police reports, meticulously detailed and organized, each one stamped with the official seal of Urbanshade. They were followed by a set of photographs, their glossy surfaces reflecting the dim light of the room. The first image you saw was a clear mugshot of a young man. His face was striking, not in the sense of beauty, but in the way it conveyed a deep weariness, as if the weight of the world had been pressing down on him for far too long. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, and they censored his eyes, leaving them to your imagination.

His expression was a frown in each of the photos, a look of quiet defiance mixed with something else—something that sent a strange sensation through your chest. It wasn’t pity, exactly, but a deep unease that you couldn’t quite place. There was a coldness in his expression, yet also a flicker of something more, something human and raw, buried beneath the layers of exhaustion and anger.

You turned the page, your fingers brushing over the edges of the police reports that followed. The papers were old, some of them yellowing with age, but the text was still clear. Your eyes skimmed the lines, taking in the grim details of a murder case that had been closed years ago. The words felt heavy, each sentence a stark reminder of the horror that had unfolded.

The reports detailed a series of brutal killings—nine victims in total. The descriptions were uncensored, each one more gruesome than the last. As you read, a chill ran down your spine. The level of violence, the cold, methodical nature of the crimes, it all painted a picture of someone deeply disturbed, someone with a darkness that ran far deeper than you could have imagined.

And there, at the center of it all, was the young man from the photos. His name was typed in bold letters at the top of the report: Sebastian Solace. The name seemed almost ironic—“Solace” suggesting peace or comfort, while the man it belonged to was associated with such unspeakable acts.

You stared at the name for a long moment, trying to reconcile the tired, defiant face in the photos with the monstrous deeds described in the reports. The file mentioned psychological evaluations, interviews, and even some speculation about his motives, but none of it seemed to add up. There was a note in the margin, scrawled in a hurried hand, suggesting that the case was far from closed, despite what the official records stated.

A photo paperclipped to the back of the file caught your attention—a grainy image of a dark, empty room. The caption underneath simply read, „Day of Execution“ The picture showed the electric chair that they used in Solace his execution, but any sign of his presence was missing in it.

Then you turned the pages and the police reports changed into a large series of lab reports, endless lists of medication and a collection of pictures that left you in a nauseous state.

You read and read for what felt like hours, your eyes moving mechanically over the pages as the horrors of Sebastian Solace's life unfolded before you. Each detail seemed more grotesque than the last, painting a picture of a man who had been systematically stripped of his humanity. It wasn’t just the surgeries—those brutal, invasive operations where limbs were removed and reattached like parts of a machine. It was the utter disregard for the person he once was, the complete and total annihilation of his identity, his very soul.

The deeper you delved into the file, the more your hands began to tremble. You could feel your stomach churning as you flipped through page after page of graphic images and cold, clinical reports. The pictures were the worst—high-resolution photographs of Sebastian’s disfigured body, his skin pale and sickly under the harsh fluorescent lights of a laboratory. There were stitches crisscrossing his limbs, metal tools embedded in his flesh like cruel mockeries of life-saving instruments. His eyes—those once defiant, tired eyes—were vacant now, lifeless, as though the man he had once been was already dead.

Your breath hitched as you turned to a page detailing an experiment labeled "Procedure 17-C." The accompanying photograph showed a close-up of Sebastian's chest, where wires and tubes had been inserted into his heart, his blood replaced with a thick, unnatural fluid. The caption beneath it coldly described the experiment’s purpose—to test the viability of synthetic blood in deep-sea environments. The thought of what he had endured, of how much pain and suffering had been inflicted upon him in the name of science, made your vision blur with tears.

You forced yourself to continue reading, even as nausea clawed at your throat. The reports became increasingly more deranged, describing how Sebastian’s body had been treated like a puzzle, dismantled and reassembled in ways that defied all logic and ethics. The word "specimen" appeared frequently, a stark reminder that to his captors, Sebastian was nothing more than a test subject, an object to be used and discarded.

It was around page 35 that you couldn’t take it anymore. You shoved the file aside and staggered to the bin next to you, emptying the contents of your stomach. The bile burned your throat, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the anguish in your heart. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, trying to steady your breathing, but the images lingered in your mind, imprinted there like a brand.

Sebastian Solace—the name now felt like a curse, a grim reminder of the horrors that could befall anyone who crossed paths with Urbanshade. And the Hadal Blackside... it was no longer just a place. It was a living nightmare, a twisted abyss where humanity was stripped away,

The weight of the file in your hands felt unbearable as you reluctantly picked it up again, your fingers trembling as you closed the cover. The secrets contained within were like a lead weight on your soul, pressing down on you with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. When you finally set the file back on the table, it was as though you were laying down a burden too great for any one person to bear.

But even as you tried to distance yourself from what you had just read, the haunted eyes of Sebastian Solace refused to leave you. They stayed with you, those hollow, lifeless eyes, staring back at you from the depths of your memory. They were a reminder that in the Hadal Blackside, there were things far more terrifying than the dark waters and the lurking creatures within. There might were men—once human, now monsters—who had been twisted by the same forces that now ensnared you.

You were tangled in their web now, caught in a nightmare from which there was no waking. And as you sat there, in the dim light of that office room, you realized that the true horror wasn’t what had been done to Sebastian. It was the knowledge that, in time, the same fate could await you, if someone found out what you saw.

#sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #sebastian solace #sebastian solace fanfiction #AsAboveSoBelow #sebastian solace fanfic #sebastian solace x gender neutral reader

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shrimp-buffet · 7 months

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LARRY AND LAWRIE HEADCANNONS #2!!

Because holy crap the first one got so much positive attention- (again, headcannons after cut cuz I’m gonna yap for a sec)

Thanks to everyone who enjoyed the first one! It’s my most popular post ever and I’m glad it was so well received. I really hope this is a good follow up! Feel free to let me know if you want more Brawl Stars headcannons going forward cuz I’d be happy to make them.

Anyway it’s finally headcannon time!

Larry focused, Lawrie focused, Both

• Larry’s favorite music genre is literally elevator music (Lawrie likes rock!)

•Both of them hate the Cops theme song, they think it’s very annoying. Doesn’t help that park guest and other brawlers (*cough* Nita and Leon *cough*) tease them with it

• At first, Lawrie didn’t let Larry have a weapon since “they’re dangerous and you don’t need one” but Larry managed to craft his ticket wheel into an explosive weapon somehow and Lawrie was just too afraid/impressed to not let him have it

•They both live in the park’s security station. Specifically, Larry took an unused storage closet and made it into an actual little bedroom, while Lawrie just sleeps in their office (if they sleep at all)

•Lawrie collects bobble heads. They make him smile

•Larry really likes baking! Not to eat the sweet treats (since he can’t even if he wanted to), but he just loves the process of making them. He often bakes cookies with Pearl

•He has no clue that Pearl is related to the Gold Arm Gang somehow. They’ve seen her with them but it just somehow has never clicked and probably never will

•Lawrie does know, but they just think Pearl is harmless enough. The second any other Gold Arm member even gets close to Larry though, they’re ready to strike

•Larry is a hypochondriac even though he can’t even get sick. Lawrie is kinda similar, but they’re just a neat-freak. Either way, everywhere the two go is getting deep cleaned and disinfected

•Lawrie gets a ton of coloring books for R-T since they see R-T as like a little kid and don’t know what else to get them.

•Larry is really good at engineering, and makes elaborate “mouse trap” like contraptions to try and catch criminals. They also make little mini robots! Those don’t have any consciousness but he treat they like his children all the same

•Lawrie pretends they don’t like the little robots, but they will protect those little guys with their life if they have to

•Lawrie’s idea of “fun” is challenging Larry to little games that test their knowledge on all the parks rules (Don’t worry cuz Larry thinks it’s fun too)

•If you bring it up to them, both Larry and Lawrie the living embodiments of anti-smoking/drinking/gambling ads

•People will often sneak up behind Larry and put stickers on them to poke fun at him. He never notices until Lawrie takes them off. He keeps them in a sticker book because they think it means people like him

•No one puts any stickers on Lawrie because he’s just impossible to sneak up on and will punch someone if they try

•They own a cat! Larry found a little Calico kitten and went annoying little brother mode until Lawrie agreed to keep it

•Lawrie hated the idea of having an animal around, but much like a middle aged dad they’re now the one who spoils the cat the most

That’s it for now! Hope you liked it and thanks for reading this!! Again, show some love if you’d like more!

#brawl stars #brawl stars larry #brawl stars lawrie #larry and lawrie #brawl stars headcanons #headcannons #sequel

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buildwithrobots · 1 year

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#uv disinfection robot

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rottenpumpkin13 · 1 month

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AGSZC who has the messier room? the cleanest?

Sephiroth and Genesis are the neat freaks of the bunch. Angeal is a compulsive cleaner, Cloud doesn't have a choice but to keep his space clean while he's in the army, and Zack is relatively clean and keeps his space organized....he just has his days. Like the time Angeal said he would inspect Zack's room as soon as he got back from his mission, but the room was no where near ready to be seen by human eyes.

*LOCATION: the land where organization goes do die, a.k.a Zack's bedroom*

Zack: Man, this is bad! Angeal comes back in three hours! How am I gonna get all this cleaned up by then??

Cloud: Relax. It's not even that bad.

Zack: Really?

Cloud: Totally. Lots of people have...a fort made out of pizza boxes, a deflated basketball used as a cereal bowl and....is that—is that a Sephiroth cardboard cutout tucked in your bed??

Zack: Shh, he's sleeping.

Cloud:

Cloud: Okay, there's no other way to do this. You need help.

Zack: I do.

Cloud: Which means we have to bring in experts to get the job done.

Zack: .....oh no....not THEM!

Cloud: Yes, them.

*Cloud opens the door*

Cloud: Oh good, you're here.

*Sephiroth and Genesis are standing there with cloths around their heads, surgical masks, yellow gloves, and all the cleaning supplies in the world*

Sephiroth: We heard there was bacterial growth.

Genesis: And uncleanliness.

Sephiroth, holding up his label maker: And objects that need to be organized, labeled and filed.

Genesis: And an opportunity to use my brand new disinfectant.

Zack: Wow, guys, I really appreciate this and all, but it's a heavy job. Are you sure you're willing to help without freaking out?

*They move inside the apartment*

Sephiroth: Nonsense, Zack. No job is too hard when it helps a friend.

Genesis: Yeah, and besides, it can't be that bad.

*Cloud opens the door to hell*

Genesis: OH MY GOD HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?

Sephiroth: THE Ḅ̂ͬ̐ͪ̑͌A͔̗͚͍͛̈̂̒͟͢͝ͅ_̵̡̰̫ͤͬͧ͟͟C̘̫͌̆ͦͧ͌̓̄̚T̴Ē̡̛͕͈͓̬̮̐ͩ̓̈ͥ͂͆ͧ̓ͫ͜R̵̡̡̳̩̻͍̠͍̫̙̥̗̻͙̼͉ͪ̏̅ͥͭ̈́͛̂̄́ͦ͗͛͂ͧͤ͊̕͡Í̶̸͕͎̮̩̤͍̹̻̬̩̂ͭͫ͌̀̏̇̇ͮ̇͋̄̀ͮͪͧ͠͞Á̸̧̢̡̘͈̝͙̻͙̖͍͍̖̉ͮ̕͞ͅ

Zack: YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T FREAK OUT!

Genesis: We're not freaking out. This is....normal.

Zack: Really?

Sephiroth, walking inside the room: Yes, it's completely fine and healthy to not be able to see your own floor—*Sephiroth trips on broken bongos and face plants into a pile of stuffed animals*

Zack: Hey! My bongos! I was wondering where those went.

Genesis: See? We're organizing things already.

Sephiroth, resurfacing with a cat plushie: I'm taking this one as payment.

*Cloud is sweeping the floor next to a pile of dirty laundry. Suddenly the pile moves*

Cloud: ...

*The pile moves more*

Cloud, panicking: ...

*The pile moves towards Cloud*

*Cloud yells and starts beating the pile with his broomstick*

*Cait Sith jumps out of the pile*

Cloud: !?

Cait Sith: Oh-ho-ho!

*Cait Sith sprints away and out of the room, never to be seen again*

Cloud: What the heck??

Zack, coming up behind him: What?

Cloud: A strange, robot cat was in your laundry just now.

*Sephiroth walks up to the pile of laundry and takes it to be washed*

Zack: Cloud! Don't be mean! Sephiroth is only trying to help!

Cloud:

*Genesis opens Zack's closet door to clean, a skeleton dressed in a red leather coat and wig falls on top of him*

Genesis: WHY DO YOU HAVE THIS!?

Zack: Leave Skelesis Bonesodos alone. He isn't hurting anybody.

*Cloud is laying down spread eagle on a clean part of Zack's floor after Sephiroth mopped it up*

Cloud: This is so nice. I didn't even know you had heated flooring.

Zack: I HAVE HEATED FLOORING?

Cloud: Yeah, why??

*Zack dives under his bed and pulls out a pile of melted marshmallows*

Cloud: What the hell is that??

Zack: It was my marshmallow Stamp statue. Now it's just a pile of mush!

Cloud: Why would even keep that under your bed? You could attract mice.

Zack: Nah, I've never seen them, so I'm probably good.

*Sephiroth crawls out from under Zack's bed*

Sephiroth: You have the most lovely, welcoming mouse family living underneath your bed.

Zack:

Sephiroth: We're almost done here. Zack, why don't you and Cloud go get some fresh air while Genesis and I finish up here?

Cloud: Are you sure?

Genesis: Positive. Besides, only I can add the finishing touches. You boys go have fun.

Cloud: Alright! Come on, Cloud, let's go get Angeal.

*They leave*

*Genesis pulls out a box of scented candles*

Sephiroth: You want to put fire in Zack's bedroom?

Genesis: These candles will set the perfect mood with their apple cinnamon scent. Do you have a lighter?

Sephiroth: No.

Genesis: Does Zack have a lighter?

Sephiroth: Angeal confiscated Zack's lighter after he accidentally set his own eyebrows on fire.

Genesis: Rats.

Genesis: I don't have my bangles with me. Why don't you use your materia to light them while I go get my camera? I want to photograph my work.

Sephiroth: Alright.

*Genesis leaves the room*

Sephiroth: Lighting candles with materia sounds unsafe.

Sephiroth:

Sephiroth: Oh well. What could possibly go wrong?

*Zack, Cloud and Genesis are walking back inside Zack's apartment, leading Angeal*

Zack: You're gonna be so proud, Angeal! The room looks spotless!

Cloud: And Zack did it all on his own.

Genesis: HUH?

Zack: Yup! All on my own!

Genesis: MOTHER FUC—*Cloud tackles Genesis to the ground before he can spill the beans*

Angeal: I'm proud of you, buddy. You applied yourself and stayed on track. I can't wait to see how your room looks.

Zack: :)

*Angeal opens the door*

*Angeal closes the door*

Angeal: Call the police.

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #zack fair #cloud strife #crisis core #ffvii crisis core #ff7 crisis core #storytime

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bamsara · 2 years

Note

Prompt Drabble: Stitched up wounds 🧵 🩹

Sun-Centric | Wordcount: 1,217 | AO3 Version

You weren't exactly the best coordinated or well organized person. Or maybe you were just super unlucky at times, it would explain all the instances of misfortune you've had, small or big injuries that shouldn't have happened but did so like the universe was just trying to spite you.

So you're not all that surprised when you stick your hand into the murky water of the kitchen sink to start doing the dishes, feel something a little weird, and pull it back out to see a steak knife hanging from the middle of your hand.

You hear Sun dropping the plates behind you on the table before the pain actaully reaches you. "Oh. Uh. Oops."

"Oops? You're 'oopsing' right now?" Sun's form is immediatly to your side, his job of collecting the remaining dishware forgotten as the animatronic grabs your wet wrist. Before he flips over your palm, the knife falls right out of your flesh, bits of blood falling with it, now a dark stain into the dirty water. "Oh, dear. Oh me oh my."

Sun's faceplate turns briefly to the car keys hanging on the hook by the front door, and you're quick to speak up. "We are not going to urgent care for something as small as this. I'm not footing that bill." The animatronic gains a sour look, but you're firm. "Not happening."

A disapproving pause, but the Sun looks back to your hand.

The pain is starting, and your mouth pressing into a line, sucking in a hiss through your teeth as the sting of the water forms a bloody ring around the wound. "Ah, fuck-"

"We told you-" He's tutting at you, flipping your palm upwards and holding it firmly with one hand, the other grabbing a paper towl and dabbing the wetness away. "I think I've told you several times that just throwing knifes into the sink for later was going to bite you!"

"Not my fault!" You flinch as he brings your hand down underneath the faucet, running clean water over the wound, "Knives just have it out for me! Remember that time-" He turns it off, and all but dragging you by the wrist to the bathroom, with your complaining all the while. "-the time with the rabbit?"

"Not a funny joke!" Sun sits you down on the closed toliet seat, a firm press on your shoulders as an unspoken 'stay put', turning on his heel and opening the medicine cabinet up. "Not funny! Very upsetting! And I'll be hearing none of it right now!"

The pain in your hand was spreading, but you're trying to laugh. "C'mon, it's-"

"Oh, would you look at that! It's our good friend, disinfectant!" He pulls the bottle out with purpose, a small first aid in his other hand, and holds it in the air with a tense smile. "Very important to use. Let's make sure that dish water doesn't make anything infected, shall we?"

You cringe in on yourself. "I think I'll be fine with a band-aid."

"Please." The Sun washes his hands, then lowers himself, setting the supplies to the side as he crouches in front of you. He holds your wrist again, turning it over, and the tutting as blood dribbles out from the small wound, sliding off your skin and dripping to the tile. Not the worst injury you've recieved, but definatly an annoyance. "I think you'll need a stitch or two. Maybe three. And wouldn't you know that robots tend to have very steady hands."

You wrinkle your nose as he pulls as he dips the bottle of disinfectant onto a gauze pad, and positions it over the wound. "Said the robot that was programmed to juggle-aUUUghhh Ow! Ow, fucking. Ow."

Sun uses his thumb to press the alcohol pad into your palm with a gentle firmness, and sends you a look when you try to jerk your arm backwards. "We have four arms! Do not make us use them."

"Unfair." You pout, watching as he pulls the gauze away now tainted with a slight color of red. A bead of wetness swells in your eye at the pain. "Mean."

"Hush." He speaks, and sounds like his other half coming in underneath his tone. Sun tosses the gauze, pulling out a small kit with one hand and thumbing away the single tear with the other. "This will hurt a little."

The pain is evident and not leaving soon, and the blood was no longer dribbling down your palm, so you look away as Sun threads the needle with careful percision, (large fingers are not, he does have steady hands) and lines it up carefully. You flinch at the first stitch.

He presses his fingers down onto your wrist, keeping it trapped against your own knee, and uses the thumb of that hand to keep your palm splayed open as the other worked. "Try not to move."

You breathe hotly through your nose. "I'm trying."

"And you're doing a very good job!" He's quick, focused. The wonders of expertise. He's not nervous because he's seen you survive worse, so the habit of speech comes naturally to him. "Good, good. There you go. Open your hand little more." A third stitch, and you groan at the realization you'll need a few more, but Sun keeps going.

"Almost done." Sun comes to the last one. "You're doing very good, sweetheart."

"Shut up." Your face is both hot in embarressment and in painful discomfort.

"Oh, you'd rather we'd be quiet?" Sun's smile is teasing, but comforting. He's probably trying to be distracting on purpose. "Cranky."

You open your mouth to retort, but the final stitch and knot is finished, and you fight to appear stoic at the sensation as Sun wipes the now-closed wound with a disinfected wipe again, pulling out another roll of gauze. "No more dishwashing for you, I'm afriad. You can leave those things to little-ole me!"

He wraps your hand gingerly, covering the cleaned and sutured wound with bandages to protect it's healing. You don't say anything, but you know he glances up every other second or so to see if you wince if the wrapping is too tight. The wrap is finished, a knot on the back of your hand, and you sigh. "I can just put a glove over it."

"How about you not do that?" The animatronic leans back, gathering the left-over supplies and storing them away back into the medical cabinet. You rise to stand, and he stops you before you can brush past him. "Hold on! We're not done here!"

You raise a brow, but you see it coming before he starts. Carefully, grabbing the wrist and not the hand, his takes a hold of the injured one, raising it slowly and gently up to his faceplate, leaning downwards until the bandage barely graces his teeth. "Mwau. It'll heal in no time."

You laugh. "That's so corny!"

"And it works! Scientifically proven!" He chuckles, turning to his side and gesturing for you to walk past him and out of the bathroom like a knight would welcome a charge into their castle. "Now! Dishes away! Not for you though. I ban you to couch duty."

"...What's couch duty?"

He winks at you. "It's the duty you do when you don't do anything."

"....Boo."

#Based off of an IRL injury I recieved! Sorry if its not super dramatic lmao #Solar Lunacy #drabbles #writings #fnaf sb #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #sun x reader #moon x reader #tw injury #tw blood

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scramblescrew · 2 months

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good morningg/afternoon/nightt 💗! , can i request a shadow the hedgehog x fem reader where basically the reader gets hurt badly during a battle with eggman and shadow patches her up and gives her cuddles <3.

((With Pleasure, 💗 Anon!))

/TW: a few descriptions of blood and injury\

Shadow the Hedgehog x Fem! Reader: First Aid and Cuddle Scenerio

(Romantic(?) Fluff)

🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

_________Getting injured________

- you had been on several missions before and only had gotten minor injuries

- neither of you had expected one of Eggman’s Badniks to actually get a good hit in

- while Shadow was taking on a majority of the bigger threats but you made sure no stray badnik took a cheap shot on him

- as the robot waves dwindled down, you made the mistake of letting your guard down and turned to see the red eyed hedgehog finishing off the robots that were rushing towards him

- As Shadow turned to look at you, his eyes widened as two Buzz Bombers flew up behind

“Y/N!”

- Shadow launched forward, trying to save you from the things shooting at you

- unfortunately, you had turned just in time to be shot in the side and shoulder/arm. Sending you flying into Shadow’s arms

-bl**d gushed down your arm and onto the ground in a steady river of crimson. Lucky, the blast slightly cauterized a few blood vessels so bleeding out would take a bit longer than normal

-but it still needed to be addressed….NOW.

—Addressing your injury—

- after rushing you back to safety (your home), Shadow quickly got a med kit, then started disinfecting and bandaging the wounds

- thankfully the wounds weren’t that deep so gauze and bandages were applied to stop the bleeding

- but unexpectedly, even with quite a few wraparounds with bandages

- blood still soaked into the bandages enough that red was appearing on the top layers of the bandages

- Shadow quickly removed the gauze and bandages then re-bandages the wounds

- the bleeding eased up but there was a bit of blood still

-But for now, it would do…..

- you were wincing in pain still so your worried partner got you some painkillers then picked you back up

- shadow then took you to your bed and laid you down in it, getting in with you shortly after

————The Cuddle Session————

“Y/N….I’m so sorry…I should’ve been there…”

“Shadow, it’s ok! We’re both alive and doing pretty ok!”

- you two comforted each other as an outpouring of memories from your pasts emerged.

- Shadow talking about Maria and his fears about losing anyone of his other loved ones again

- …he couldn’t bare to lose you too… not after everything you two have been through and done together!

“Y/N, Seeing the blood and your pain…the memories all came flooding back again…ones I wish I could heal from…I can’t let you go…I can’t lose you-“

“And you won’t lose me…Shadow..honey…some scars don’t heal, Maria was your best friend..your sister…and there was nothing you could’ve done that would’ve made the outcome any different……”

“You’re right…I love you, Y/N..”

“I love you too…remember that she and I will always be here for you in one way or another…and that you can still live for her sake…”

-Shadow smiled as you told him about your life, the ups and downs, the trauma and possible healing, everything-

-that was until you finished talking and looked down

-you saw that your partner, the usual reserved and grumpy hedgehog had nuzzled his face into your neck and had fallen asleep with a look of relief and ease plastered onto his face

-you chuckled, and using your not injured arm, smoothed out any stray quills and patches of fur

-you hummed a soft tune as you too succumbed to sleep, albeit still in a bit of pain

——————BONUS!!———————

-Shadow woke up and reached his hand out, hoping you were still in bed…you weren’t.

- Shadow shot up, his eyes open and mind fully aware, you weren’t in bed, your place in bed was still kind of warm so you had to have gotten up very recently

- The immortal hedgehog teared up as he freaked out and got up and started rushing to the bedroom door-

- you were now suddenly in the doorway, leaning against the frame in a fair bit of pain with two cups of coffee and a small pouch in your hands.

“Y/N! You’re injured, you shouldn’t be out of bed! Come on- come lay down!”

“Darling, I just went to the kitchen and made us a little something! Just a little coffee for us two!”

-Shadow had taken the cups and pouch, setting them down on the bedside table,

“Doesn’t matter, now lay down!”

-You did as he said and got back into bed and into a comfortable position

“The larger cup and the pouch are for you, take ‘em.”

-Shadow looked at you for a second before taking the cup and pouch,taking a sip from the cup and going to his side of the bed, “….thank you, Y/N…”

“You’re welcome…I know you like your coffee..!”

“Yeah, I do.”

((IDK- I heard Shadow liked coffee and went with it!!!))

UP NEXT: Black Cat! Reader x Bishops (Platonic)

#shadow the hedgehog #taking requests #sonic the hedgehog #Shadow the hedgehog x reader #x reader #fluff #reqs open #request #so adorable #tw injury #tw blood #follow this blog for more #more coming soon #up next

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sapphic-agent · 15 days

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You wanna know who the #1 beneficiary of the tech power creep is in this series? Momo. One thing this mech suit shows is that Momo totally wasted her time trying to beat people with sticks. The idea of trying to create items in a battle as a form of problem solving is stupid, or at best, should be done as a last resort. Her power was always meant for technology. That's the true power in this world. She should have been trying to be Ironman. You know how All Might spent his fortune on the suit, and that was meant to be a limiting factor as to why this tech can't be widely used? Well, guess who has the ability to generate materials with no cost. Even the idea of her inventions requiring studying to make things more complex stops holding water when you look at the torture device she tried to strap Midoriya into during Class A vs Deku. She made that in an instant and it posed an immediate threat. What could she make if she wasn't trying to do it during stressful battles with enemies right in front of her? So, her limiting factor really is her ability to study advanced concepts and have people explain them to her, and most importantly, what an author is willing to let her do. The path forward for her was always to pay people smarter and more educated than her to invent things and then she can have them explain it to her so she can recreate it. If her family had paid the cost to design that Iron Might suit, then she'd pay it. Once. And then be able to use the schematics to create as many of them as she wants. Or better yet, make killer robots except use the tech inside of the suit. Create an entire army of them so she never has to be in any sort of danger at all. Control them remotely. UA has been shown to have advanced AI robots who have personalities. Said bots have enough restraint to never kill any of the kids in the sports festival or entrance exam. This could be used for hero work. This also gets into what a valuable resource Mei Hatsume is and how if you wanted Momo to be a god, you could just have them meet in middle school. Mei just has to design a working device, once, and then Momo can study it and forever use it. What could she come up with, if the idea was that Momo would hide somewhere, perhaps in an APC, while she uses drones and robots to fight at a distance? Energy/food costs for her also aren't a concern. She's clearly able to output more energy than she takes in, given she can create cannons and things that weigh more than her. So she could use up all of her lipids creating a dead meat cube that contains as many calories as she's capable of packing into an object, then eat it. And repeat this process as needed.

This is definitely interesting.

Momo absolutely has the potential to be the most OP in the series. Horikoshi originally wanted to give her quirk to a pro but recognized that someone experienced would nerf the entire story.

I don't necessarily think that making things for problem-solving is the issue; I think it's way more that Horikoshi just didn't have the creativity for it. Like you said the entrapment device she made during 1A vs Izuku was maybe her most effective creation. Instead of disinfectant, imagine she made poison gas and simply knocked Kendo and the other 1B students out (not sure if she can create chemical reactions, but she could theoretically cause one by using components right).

I doubt she would be comfortable doing next to nothing as a hero. I do wish we knew her motivations, but relying purely on her money while doing minimal work doesn't paint a great picture for her. I like that in canon she doesn't rely on her status or wealth for hero work, she relies on her intelligence.

Momo should be an underground hero. She could be the equivalent of Batman (no this isn't my love for Batman over Iron-Man talking), strategizing and having any gadget she needs at her disposal. I would love to see more tech incorporated into her work as a hero. I also wouldn't mind the bo staff if she was allowed to actually use it like a bo staff (seriously she barely does anything with it what's the point of giving it to her. Nah give my girl a sword and let her cut people)

#mha critical #bnha critical #momo yaoyorozu deserves better #ask

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