#pls i am begging on my hands and knees do not fall into despair you will doom us all

[gordonfreemanreal]

you get nowhere being politically pessimistic. it's now important more than ever to vote blue. i'm so serious idgaf if you hate biden or if ur anxious abt the election if you fuckers don't vote out trump the blood of not just our country, but literally the Entire fucking world is on your hands. go and vote you fucking idiots

[ilikeyoshi]

i woke up suddenly this morning knowing EXACTLY what i wanted to write for yesterday's prompt. l'aiha and louisoux's student/teacher super friendship mean EVERYTHING TO ME. I MISS HIM.

post-ARR/coils of bahamut raid spoilers, 1,530 words

------------------------------

sil·ver lin·ing

/ˈsilvər līning/

noun

1. a sign of hope in an unfortunate or gloomy situation; a bright prospect.

From the very crest of the cavern, Phoenix fell. Yet nary a feather touched the ground before his form began to disperse, a dissolving mist of red, then blue, then finally whiter than light.

L'aiha watched in awe as Phoenix, at last, departed from the world. A harrowing journey it had been, when she'd agreed to help Alisaie Leveilleur uncover the truth about the Seventh Umbral Calamity. They'd learned more than they ever could have expected—they learned of the regenerating Elder Primal, and the hundreds of tortured dragons woven into the very walls of Dalamud to facilitate his reawakening.

And they'd learned of a phantom, whose mask all too closely resembled Alisaie's dead grandfather.

This was supposed to be the end. Bitter and gruesome, with Alisaie and her brother left devastated by the ordeal. L'aiha could only imagine what it must have felt like, but her heart bled for them.

Yet it seemed so did another's. The twinkling, drifting aether around them began to coalesce, and soon it resembled a familiar silhouette. L'aiha braced herself for another fight, expecting the phantom whom Bahamut puppeteered about his Coils.

But one look at the soft, joyous smile Louisoix gave the three of them dispelled any fear of an imposter.

"Grandfather!" Alisaie cried out, running at once to throw her arms around the prophet's waist.

Alphinaud was right behind her, and the man stooped to embrace them.

"Alisaie," he softly croaked. "Alphinaud. Oh, my sweet, beloved grandchildren..."

L'aiha stood back, stunned by the sight.

Louisoix Leveilleur. The beloved leader of the Circle of Knowing; the dearest friend of so many people L'aiha had come to cherish.

She didn't know what to say, and certainly didn't try to say it. Though she felt drawn to the scene, she withheld herself—it was not her place, she knew, but the twins' who had strived and struggled for this moment.

When Louisoix looked at her for the first time, though, he looked surprised. "You are..."

L'aiha saw the mark tattooed upon his face. The one like so many of her Scion friends', the one that forever painted her own skin, the one she'd had without any memory of a time before whence she might have earned them.

She heard it at once in his voice. He knew her.

A jolt shot through her head, sharp as a dagger—a familiar feeling by now. L'aiha whined as the Echo consumed her, and felt her feet come out from under her before the Third Coil disappeared entirely from her awareness.

When she opened her eyes to the vision, she was still laying on the ground. But instead of a cavernous roof, she saw the abyss of a red, burning sky. She saw streaks of flame descend from the Red Moon and the creature it once caged, a monster so grotesque and wrathful.

She recognized him at once. Bahamut.

A voice cried out, despaired, and L'aiha sensed it was directed at—at her. At her! This Echo vision—she was in it!

She couldn't move from the ground though. The fire rained and razed all around her. She felt so small, so helpless—yet all she could think about was... raising her arm to that hellfire sky. Why? Why? Why?

The voice called for her again, closer. Someone was approaching her prone form, yet they felt even farther away as the thought to reach up consumed her. Words danced at the edge of her mind.

"Hear... Feel... Think..."

And then L'aiha saw her arm, raised skyward, fingers splayed and palm flat to the smoke and fire. She had to stop it. She had to summon the Twelve. She had to—

At last, the source of the voice arrived. L'aiha saw none other than Louisoix's devastated face, as the prophet fell to his knees at her side. He called her something, but it wasn't L'aiha.

She felt her lips move, and heard her voice—hoarse and wet. She realized she was dying. "M-Master," she croaked. "I-I can s-still... I c-can..."

Louisoix bundled her broken body up into his arms. He was so much bigger than her; somehow, it was enough to feel safe. She dropped her hand, as she felt tears streak down her face, as hot as the falling fire.

"M-Master Lou-uisoix..."

"Hush," he whispered. She could hear the grief in his voice. "Hush, my dear."

"I-I can... I h-have to..."

"You have done enough," he said. He smiled, and she caught the glint of teary eyes. "You have done so, so much. I will finish it."

She felt nearly suffocated with a sense of failure. She felt, even as he smiled down at her with an adoration so powerful and so impossible, like she had ruined something so very important.

"Pl-please—"

"Rest yourself," Louisoix said. "You must hold on. You must—"

He stopped himself. L'aiha didn't know why, at first, until she realized she couldn't speak. She couldn't breathe. Slowly, the smile fell from Louisoix's face. He called to her, that name that wasn't L'aiha. What was it? If she could just remember it... But she couldn't answer him.

Though he knew at once she was gone, he called again, and once more after that. She saw him shake, saw his tears fall.

Who was she to him? Why did she know she was someone to him?

He shut his eyes, raking in a harsh breath. Then he smiled down at her once more.

"Rest," he said, so small and so sad. "I will finish it."

His hand came to lay over her eyes, and then the Echo's vision faded away.

"L'aiha!"

She blinked, shocked by a voice so close to her. She blinked again, and again still, until she felt droplets land on her face and at last her vision cleared.

Alisaie was at her side, her eyes dripping with tears. The moment L'aiha focused on her, the poor girl whimpered in relief.

"Thank the Twelve!" she cried, dropping to hug L'aiha tight. "Don't EVER scare me like that again!"

L'aiha heard a second weeping voice, and looked to her other side, where Alphinaud fought with all his might not to disintegrate right in front of her. But it didn't stop his tears.

"Wh-when you just collapsed, we—we feared—" A hiccup slipped, and the boy stubbornly rubbed his face in his sleeve.

"Do not despair, my grandchildren. She is well."

Memory came rushing back to L'aiha. The Coils, the Echo's fainting spell—

And Louisoix.

She wrapped an arm around Alisaie, trying to pull herself into a sit. Alphinaud realized it and took her other arm in both his hands, hoisting her until she was upright. Her eyes found the prophet at once, and all of the guilt and desperation came flooding back.

"M-Master Louisoix," she croaked so miserably. "I-I—I'm so—"

Louisoix raised a hand, gentle, and L'aiha's teeth shut with a snap. "Alphinaud, Alisaie. Let me see her."

The twins reluctantly backed away, and Louisoix approached. L'aiha hurried to her feet to meet him, whimpering and shedding tears as hot as the ones in her vision.

"I failed you," she gasped out, nearly buckling right back to the floor. "I-I failed—please, p-please forgive me—"

"My dearest student," Louisoix said, the kindness in his voice like sunlight welcoming her out of the frigid darkness. "You did everything I asked of you, and more still. You survived, just as I had prayed; just as I had tried and failed to ensure. And now you have wrested me free from Bahamut's dying grip.

"It is I who should be begging your forgiveness."

It threatened to break her. She burst into ragged sobs, throwing her arms around Louisoix, whose returning embrace felt as all-encompassing as it had in that vision.

"T-tell me," she begged. "T-tell me who I was—"

"Alas, it is not my place," Louisoix said, the sorrow in his voice potent. "But know that this love in your heart is true. Know that you were my Archon, and you have always belonged."

It was enough. In that moment, it meant everything in all the world to her.

Louisoix drew back, and scrubbed the tears from her cheeks. At first, it made her cry harder, but then she felt as if she could burst with sudden, radiant joy.

"You did it, Master Louisoix," she said. "You saved us all. I—" As quick as it came, her smile vanished again. "P-please, don't go—the Scions, Minfilia, th-they have to—"

But Louisoix shook his head, and touched a finger to the red jewel on her brow. "I am not long for this world. But I have been with you, since that dark day in Carteneau. Your aether holds a fragment of me, the spark that brought light back to your eyes—and through you, I will ever be.

"Take care of them," he said, and smiled at his grandchildren. "And know that your bond is as ours. I can think of no better a soul to entrust my Alphinaud and Alisaie to."

It was over too fast. The twins rejoined their grandfather for their final goodbyes, and the Coil glowed with Louisoux's pride and happiness. Somehow, it was still enough.

Like Phoenix, he dispersed, glistening aether like a cloud of stars around them. L'aiha closed her eyes, embracing its soft, cool touch. She remembered now, this one memory—she remembered Phoenix taking wing, and striking down Bahamut. She remembered the downpour of aether that breathed life anew into her.

"Master Louisoix," she said, opening her eyes to the twinkling embrace of the prophet's last goodbye.

Her eyes that shone with life—one gold, and suddenly, one white as light.

"Thank you."

[accidentally-a-writer]

you’re running out of time

Hello yes, remember when Stand Back was fluffy? Yeah that time is over now. As always, this is for @stegekay who has been working her ass off lately and running the Non-Stop Marathon, and juggling writing and talking to me in the meantime. Show her all the appreciation guys. 💖

... 

Laurens knocks before entering, seeing that Alex is indeed awake by now. “General Washington will join us soon, he assures, he’s been caught in his endless cycle of work and replies.”  

“As he’s too want to do,” Alex mumbles sleepily, shifting on the chaise, still looking a little uneasy. “Should we two just take supper now?” 

“I’m sure he won’t be long Alexander.” Laurens plops next to him and grins, exhausted. “It’s been a Hell of a day.”  

“Yeah I can see that,” Alex lets his head tilt back. “Maybe we should eat anyways, you don’t feel so good.” 

“Hey, stay out of my emotions, brat,” Laurens chuckles. “Let’s wait for your guardian to join us, he really did seem contrite he couldn’t come sooner.” 

“I’ve no doubt that he’s sorry to miss supper, I just wish he wouldn’t miss it at all- I know he’s working John, but tonight he promised- do not call me a child, I know how I sound.” 

“See? What use am I in our conversations when you can tell so easily what I’m about to say?” 

“Most frown on speaking to oneself.” 

“Conceded.” Alex grins at him, and Laurens grins back. “Come, perhaps we can convince Washington to retire sooner if we bring you to be a constant irritant as you are.” 

“Oh ha ha,” Alexander says sarcastically. “He told us to stay in here.” 

“I made it just fine,” Laurens stands and pulls Alexander up with him. “Besides, I’m a lieutenant colonel, I can protect you for the five minute walk it takes to get to His Excellency’s office..” 

“Oh I most assuredly do not trust you to do so,” he teases. “But should my guardian choose to reprimand us we shall indeed use your excuse to the maximum, a distinguished soldier as you are.” 

“Quite. Allons y, petit lion.” Laurens opens the door and bows dramatically, ushering Alex from his room, the wards. 

Alexander huffs at the nickname and shakes his head, crossing the threshold unassumingly. As soon as John follows he collapses. 

“John?!” Alexander’s eyes widen and he tries to catch him but it happens so quickly, he’s already on the ground. Alexander sinks next to him. He was fine, they were just talking- “John? What’s- John what’s wrong?” 

A hand settles on his shoulder, too close to his neck, and Hamilton feels the cool metal of a dagger placed at his neck. “He’s outgrown his usefulness.” 

The voice sends a violent shiver down Alexander’s spine, and absolute dread fills his core. He feels… he feels wrong. It feels wrong again. So wrong, he feels weak and he can’t breathe and he can’t access his magic- where’s Washington? 

Alexander heaves a breath to scream and- 

The dagger is between his lips before he can utter a sound. “None of that now, I’d hate to mark up a pretty thing like you, but I will. I’ll cut your tongue out if I have to, understand?”

God he can’t stand having the man so close to him it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts- 

“I won’t ask again, pet, understand?” 

“Y-yes,” Alexander says, jerking his head in the affirmative. “John- what’ve you- what’ve you done to him?” 

Where’s Washington? Alexander knows the man should be feeling his absolute terror right now, shouldn’t he be coming? 

“Oh, he’s fine. Mostly. I might’ve slipped him a bit of a poison but it’s an easy spell to undo the effects.”  

The man hauls Alexander up, finally (thankfully) removing the dagger from his lips. He casts a mere glance at Laurens and sends him through Alexander’s door, suddenly bound and gagged. 

“Can’t be too careful; the boy could wake up and ruin the surprise prematurely.” 

“Sur-surprise?” What does he want? Where’s Washington?!

“Yes, for your father-” 

“The general is not my-” 

“Shh, I didn’t tell you to speak.” Alexander’s head spins with the Dark magic and confusion both. Why hasn’t Washington come to help him? 

“He’s blocking your bond, obviously.” Davies chuckles, startling the boy in his grip. “He doesn’t want you to feel his fear; ironic, hm?” 

He feels himself being pulled and it hits him then; this man means to take him. 

“Oh, do not fight me now pet, I so am not in the mood.” Any ability to scream or thrash in the mage’s grip dies with the order, and Alexander is left to scream at the wall of a bond. Surely, surely Washington will come soon anyhow. 

Davies drags Alexander through the maze that is their home, and Alexander cannot help but to let his eyes linger on every detail; what if this is the last time he sees it? 

When he’s out of the house, and therefore out of the last of Washington’s protective wards, Davies stops them. 

“Right, now you may scream for your father.” Oh, there's no way Alexander is doing that, that is so clearly meant to be a trap- 

Agony rips through his veins, all encompassing and everywhere. It feels like it’s eating him inside out, like his blood’s been replaced by fire and he can’t stop the screams of pain from exploding from his throat. 

“You either scream when I tell you, or I make you.”  

Alexander barely hears the mage over his own throat ripping as he spasms in the dirt. The wall in the bond comes crashing down and Washington’s own terror and panic crashes over him. 

/Alex?! Alexander what’s wrong?! Where are you?!/ 

He can’t answer, the pain is so mind-numbing all he can do is scream and scream and scream and scream. 

He feels Washington though, he feels him spatially and emotionally. Frantic. 

The pain fades but its aftershocks are still excruciating. Alexander feels that grip on his arm again, hauling him up and against the man’s chest. His hand snakes around his neck and Alexander doesn’t need the dagger there to feel just as threatened. 

He’s dragged away from the door just as Washington burst through it, fear shining clear as day in his eyes. 

“Let him go,” he gasps, chest heaving. His arms jerk forward, desperate to hold his ward. “Whatever you want, you can have, just let me-” 

“I have what I want.” 

Washington chokes on his breath - not a sob, it isn’t a sob, he needs to keep it together - at the mage’s words. He has his son, he’s going to take his son, Washington is going to lose his son. 

“I- There must be something else, anything else that you want.” 

“Do not try and dissuade me from my prize, Washington. You know as well as I that there is nothing in the world worth more than this little angel full of untapped power.”

Washington releases a shuddering breath, Davies’ proximity unnerves him too but it is nothing compared to the growing nausea at his words. He’s going to take him. 

The air stirred around Washington, cracked with power he dare not release with his ward so close to his intended target. 

“Control yourself, General. I’d hate to have this one meet a painful end so young.” Alex feels himself jerked closer to Davies’ chest, his head forced up so his throat is bared to Washington and he is rendered disconcertingly sightless. 

“Release my ward and you may go,” Washington rumbles, splaying his hands non-threateningly. “We won’t follow.” 

“You won’t follow my initial transportation regardless,” Davies smirks. 

“And why is that?” 

“Because Lieutenant Colonel Laurens is upstairs dying from Ryeinstere poison.” Washington blanches, and the stab of fear Alexander feels from him makes him squirm in the mage’s grip. “Now, there’s no one allowed in little Alex’s room without his express permission hm? Only you and the Colonel. So if you do not tend to him soon, he’ll almost certainly choke on his own vomit and be no more than a corpse by the time you return.”

Washington couldn’t breathe. He either lets this man take his son or- or he’ll take another one. 

/Save John./ The voice slams into his head, reminding him just how enormous the loss will be if Alexander is taken. He’s his Bonded, his child. To lose him will be agony- /Please, please don’t let him die because of me./ 

/Alexander-/ 

“Make your choice now, Washington. You don’t want me to lose my patience; this is going to be the last time you see the whelp after all.” 

“Please,” the plea bursts from Washington’s mouth unbidden. What good will begging a man like this do? “Please don’t take him, please, anything else, I’ll- I’ll surrender.” 

Alexander makes a strained protest, silenced immediately by a sharp ‘Hush!’ from the mage. He’s enjoying this, the most powerful man in the colonies, apparently, begging him. 

“I like you begging… do it again.” 

Washington falls to his knees, without hesitation. Davies jerks Alexander’s hair to see; it sends a jolt of despair through Alexander’s core to see his guardian reduced to kneeling at the feet of this madman. 

“I beg of you, please don’t take him,” Washington was above no form of degradation if it meant Alexander might be safe at the end of it. “Please… please, I beg you.” 

Davies hums, grinning down at Washington. “Moving, truly, General.” Alexander feels the hand in his hair begin stroking. With his other Davies tosses a vial in front of Washington. The antidote, Alexander guesses. “But no.” 

Dark engulfs both the mage and Alexander, wrapping them up and pulling at his very soul and oh God it hurts. What hurts more is hearing Washington scream for him and then… nothing. 

They land in the front garden of a huge estate, warm and beautiful and so wrong. 

Washington’s side of the bond screams in agony, in loss. Alexander sobs as he struggles with his and his father’s grief. 

Rough hands snatch at his jaw, strangling his cries. “Shut up.” 

“Let me go, pl-please, please let me go.” 

“I said shut up!” Alexander is thrown to the ground by the blow to his face, his cheek splitting on Davies’ ring. Davies tears at his hair, forcing him up onto his knees with a cry, hands scratching at the vice ripping at this scalp, trying to relieve the pressure. “No more tears for Daddy,” Davies hisses, “from now on I am the only thing that matters to you.”

[vixthefantheorist]

Time’s Up~!

Part 4 of Tick Tock~ A/N: I wrote this while having The Last Day Remix by Desert Lynx 87 playing on loop. It actually fits since it has to do with Time and the fact we're coming down to the wire of what will happen on March 5th~ Enjoy! *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  March 4th, 2018... The last week flew by quickly. Henrik despite his growing anxiety and dread, did everything in his power to slow the attacks made on the poor youtuber. To buy the Community time… time for them to come to their senses and help them fend off the dark entity and save Jack’s life.

But the Community did not come through... Chase, Marvin and Jackie had given word that it was the start of Puppet Week. A week dedicated to praising Anti more. They could all feel his power surge higher at the thoughts, feelings and praising he received, feeding on the Community’s feverish obsession with the persona. As well as feed on the dashed hopes of the other Egos. They could hear him cackle and crow in victory as they worked on keeping Jack’s appearance online. Henrik heard it the loudest along with Jack. A syringe clattered to the floor as the doctor dropped to his knees in grief, staring wide at his friend. The Irishman was writhing in torment once more, the straps did little in keeping him restrained as he thrashed on the bed. He screamed and cried for it to stop, practically begging for it. Anti only cackled in response. Health Remaining: …. 2%…. “N-nothing…” Henrik whispered as he watched it happen, quivering from where he was on the floor, “Nothing, I’m doing is saving him...” “Poor little doctor, who thought he was wise~” The entity singsonged through the room, “I hope you’re happy, seeing Jack’s demise~” Jack screamed louder as Anti upped the intensity, laughing at the suffering he created. “You should’ve listened, Jack~ Your faith was a wasted effort and the Community left you to me to do with as I please~!” Anti hissed in the youtuber’s ear, delighting in the amount of negativity that radiated in the hospital room. ‘Yes...’ he thought to himself, ‘Just a bit more and all will fall into place~ This would be so much better if there had been some kind of resistance… but watching him suffer is just as good~’ He had been so wrapped up in torturing his victim he nearly failed to see the resistance he wanted. Just not in the way he expected. Henrik snatched up the syringe and shot to his feet. “I’m sorry Jack! I’m sorry we couldn’t save you but I’ll end it! I’ll make it end!” It went against everything he wanted and intended to do from the start; which was to save his friend’s life. But without the Community… there was no other way. He couldn’t save him as he wanted, but he couldn’t stand to hear him scream and beg. To see someone so bright and pure be reduced to wild, thrashing being that craved for relief from constant agony. So… the doctor will save his good friend in one other way… He will take Jack’s life and bar Anti from having that pleasure. Henrik charged at the bed, with a singled minded intention. Just a jab and press and Jack would be free… dead… but free. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t save you like I wanted, my friend. I am so sorry I wasn’t strong enough.. That all of us Egos weren’t strong enough to take Anti on alone and save you.’ He drew closer to the bed, raising his arm to stab. ‘I’m especially sorry that no one else came to save you...’ Dr. Schneeplestein brought his arm downward, aiming for the heart to inject the substance within the syringe…. But another hand snatched at his forearm, stopping the attack cold and gripped it tightly like a vice. Henrik froze and shook as he stared right into the black and green eyes of Anti, who had materialized in the room upon discovery of what the doctor had intended to do. “Well, well… look who finally grew a spine~” He chuckled coldly, his hand slid up to the other man’s wrist and snapped it to the side in a swift and fluid motion. The doctor screamed in pain, the syringe falling from his grip. “But it’s a little too late for heroics, good doctor.” Anti slammed his hand against Henrik’s chest in a brutal palm strike in punishment for his actions. The amount of force sent the Ego hurtling backwards across the room and crashed against a cabinet of supplies. He cried out and slid down the cabinet and onto the floor, dazed and trembling in pain. He struggled to get up but after a month of no rest and little energy, combined with the pain and force from the attack, the doctor’s body just could not obey. Henrik was completely helpless. Anti loomed over him, flexing his fingers to marvel at the increased amount of strength and, due to Jack’s increased amount of screaming, kept up the attack on the Irishman. He grinned down at the Ego that glared back in return. “You had your chance, Henrik. I gave that to you earlier but you refused and decided to let the Community take a crack at me.” He grinned sharply, though there was an underlying amount of disgust on his face, “And that didn’t turn out so well for you, did it? For you both. Hell for any of you weak fucks.” He flicked a hand and chains materialized, wrapping and binding Henrik, rooting him to his spot. “I told you, you’d lose, good doctor… now watch and enjoy the show~” Anti stalked back toward the bed, stopping his influence’s attack on the youtuber, giving him a moment of respite from the overwhelming torment. Jack breathed raggedly, panting and gasping as he shook from the trauma. The entity smiled as he watched the other’s eyes, seeing what was bright, be tainted and cracked with despair and heartbreak. There was still a gleam of hope… but it was very weak and wavering. “Poor Irish soul with no hope of a rescue~ / Watch as I take the hopes and dreams right from you~!” Anti cackled and crowed as his eyes flashed with power, his influence of dark green and black appearing on him before holding out his hand and struck with it. Jack screamed as the entity's energy surge through his body, burning and twisting. He thrashed wildly to escape it and then pulled against the restraints, crying for it to end. Both locked eyes as Anti continued to his attack, pushing and shoving the Irishman closer and closer to death. To shatter a soul that, without meaning to, was connected to millions of lives the world over. "I told you~ No one will ever know what happened~ because they're too focused on their precious little Egos and me~ No one will miss you, Jack~!" Anti hissed with victory, the green of his eyes flashing in wild light. "Give it up and DIE! The Community will never notice that they FAILED AT THE ONE THING THEY PROMISED YOU! That they would always have your back and come in your time of need when you called. And look at them now... dancing FOR ME!" 'Was this what they wanted? After everything? They... they didn't care about me... did they?' Jack wondered brokenly as he wavered under the onslaught of pain as it dug its claws deeper into him. He wouldn’t hold out for very long. Already, he felt his life slipping little by little through his fingers. But Anti had to admit that Jack was a persistent pain in the ass. The doctor yelled, struggling further. "That's NOT TRUE! It CAN'T be true!" "YOU KNOW IT IS, DOC!" Anti snarled, still focusing on whipping at Jack's life, whittling it away into nothing. "Proof after fucking proof! They're not coming for you and they don't want to stop me! So~ Let's GIVE THEM EXACTLY WHAT THEY WANT! A World with NO JACKSEPTICEYE!" Another surge of burning agony. Jack shrieked as he nearly launched himself out bed. Dr. Schneeplestein screamed in horror, struggling even more as tears came down his face. The Irish youtuber trembled in pain and exhaustion, sending another call for help from his community. “Pl-plea-plea-se… h-he-hel-help… m-me-e...” Henrik added his own voice as he struggled fiercely against the chains that held him. “PLEASE! WE NEED YOUR HELP! SAVE JACK! PLEASE!” Anti crowed at both as he drained the influence further from his victim. "Even if they came now to help your worthless asses... its too late!" The ECG beeped its warning. Health Remaining: ....1%.... “Tick Tock~ Time’s up~!”