#damn i wish i knew how to make clips from twitch streams

[majora-is-lurking]

Do people know that everytime it’s etoiles’s turn to tell a bednight story to Pomme-

He talks about his favorite Smash Bros players/champions and put his whole heart into it?

Do people know that he speaks like a sports commentator on the verge of euphoria and tells their exploits like they are mythology heroes?

Do people know that Pomme is slowly becoming a MKLeo fan?

Do people know that this man is precious???

Now you know non-french speakers… now you know…

[sadlysober]

like to watch you suffer

Dream Team roomates x gn!reader Summary: Youre playing a scary game and your roommates come in to laugh at you support you. Warnings: swearing, shitty description of bloody/creepy things. lmk when you find any! A/N: just watched Tommy’s fnaf stream and i died. If you have any tips, requests or ideas, feel free to send them in :)

Starting up Twitch with hesitation as you check your subscriber count one last time to be sure. You reached your subgoal on your last stream and promised the chat to play a spooky game. Playing mostly family friendly games and usually with a group of friends, you weren’t exactly excited to be playing 2017′s Resident Evil 7. Clips from Jack and Felix only made you dread this moment even more. Appearantly your chat loves seeing you scared shitless.

You start your stream as you normally would: greating the chat, answering some dono’s. “I actually hate you guys for making me do this. But we’re gonna try it anyways. I have a slight idea what’s coming and am mentally not prepared, so let’s see how long I will last before crapping my pants.” You force a smile at your camera and start the game.

The first hour was doable, a couple of jumpscares and some bloody stuff. A few of the jumpscares made you squeal, while the disgusting cutscenes made you want to throw up. Losing your focus on the game as you read some of the dono’s. A lot of them were about the game and people wishing you a good stream. A couple of questions about the Dream Team popped up. “What is George up to? I think he might be streaming as well I’m not -” The loud noise in your headphones, accompanied by a bloody faces canabal with a chainsaw made you shriek, followed by a ton of swear words and you taking of your headphones, rolling your chair away from your desk.

As you sit a couple of feet away from your desk you hear a door closing and footsteps in the hallway. You open your door and call out. “Gogy?” Your chat can’t hear the boy answering you. “You busy? No? Want to join my suffering? Yeah ofcourse you do, bring a chair!” The dark haired boy walks into your room rolling his chair in, a tad too excited. Your chat went insane, seeing him come through the door.

“You already died? Damn, N/N.” He teased, sitting down next to you. His legs propped up on his chair, face popping in and out of the frame.

“Would you like to try, Gogy?” You mimicked his accent, causing George to lean back into his chair. “Alright, goodluck not dying.” He said in the saltiest voice he could. You put your headphones back on, plugging in a second pair for George and handing him the headphones. You continue playing the game, almost getting used to the disgustingness of the house.

“N/N, I have to agree with chat, seeing you being a scaredy cat is hilarious.” In the meantime you’re turning into Y/N “I am going to shit myself” Y/L/N. George just laughs at you while hanging out with the chat. Yet he too flinches at the jumpscares. “Guys, the reason you can’t see George right now is because he is a big pussy.” You laugh, recieving a soft punch to your arm in return.

Another half hour of you and George sitting on the edges of your chairs until Nick decides to have some fun. After hearing you yell a couple of times he’d tune into your stream. He waited for the right moment; you had just finished a cut scene and was wandering though the dark house that felt like a maze. The squeaky sound of the door opening made you lean back in your chair a bit more, as if something or someone would jump out of the room behind it.

The door behind you flew open with a loud bang, causing you and George to yielp. Followed by another jumpscare in the game. “Fuck you Sapnap, you little shit cunt fuck you-” You utter under your breath as you try your best not to die in game.

“Sapnap!” George whined. “What? I heard there was a party.” The boy stood in your doorframe, a cheeky grin covering his face. “Can I join?” He somewhat asked, already pulling out a chair to sit down besides you.

“Fine, but no more messing around or I’ll end the fucking stream guys.” Your chat excitedly greated him. Spamming you there will be a savepoint in a bit. “Alright guys I’m just gonna go for one more savepoint, if i don’t die from adrenaline overdose by then.”

The boys on your sides bickered while you were trying to find the way out. “Go left.” Nick hinted. “Don’t listen to him, N/N.” George told you. They were like some twisted kind of devil/angel pair on your shoulders. “Have you played this before Gogy?” Nick spat, looking over to the boy on the other side of you. “No, but they came from-” He tried to defend himself, before getting cut off. “That’s what I thought, leave it to the pro then.” 

Trusting Nick’s gut you followed his instruction and went left. The sound of your footsteps are accompanied by heavy breathing, you look around with the little light you have. When you don’t immediatly die and thank Nick for the advice. A loud noice makes you turn around as you watch some creepy dolls fall down. “The sounds are honestly the creepiest thing about this game.” You say, continuing to walk around the room, looking for clues. Nick watches you, unbothered by the scary sounds as he doesn’t have any headphones on. “Chat why do you keep spamming ‘DEATH’? I’m not dying, I am clearly a pro.” You say proudly, not being as scared and jumpy as you had been. Yet the grin appearing on Nick’s face is telling you you should be. Moments later it became clear why. A loud screech, followed by one of the residents running towards you holding an axe and piercing the weapon through your chest.

The boy next to you dies of laughter, panting as he tries to catch his breath. “Your face- oh my god you face.” You shake your head at the boy. “Why did I even trust you in the first place. I thought you knew where the exit was.” You say, a tiny bit dissapointed in yourself for falling for it, but also laughing as George almost falls out of his chair from laughter. “Oh, but I do know where the exit is.” Nick teases. You look the boy dead in the eye and start debating whether or not to continue the game.

“100 subs and they’ll continue.” George tells your chat. “Guys, no-” It only took a couple of seconds until the counter was halfway there.

dreamwastaken has gifted 50 subs: go until the next savepoint

"Let’s go, N/N, you heard the big man.” You look straight into your camera and sigh. Alt-tabbing to swearword at Clay on Discord before going back to the game. “I hate every single one of those 50 subs and Dream. One more savepoint and that’s it!” 

George nudges your arm, asking if Clay can join your little scary party. “Do I really need more critisism? What do we think chat? Spam 1 if you want Dream here, 2 if you don’t.” The chats start pouring in. “No, you’re supposed to spam 2 guys! Why aren’t you on my side. Argh, fine.” You shut your camera off and wait for Clay to come in. “No face reveal today guys.” George comments on your chat going crazy.

“You can sit on my lap Dream.” Nick said jokingly, tapping his lap. “I’d rather sit on George’s.” “No way.” The boys bicker back and forth. 

“Dream, get out of the frame I’m turning my camera back on.” The tall guy settles on your bed, being able to see your monitor and the two guys next to you.

“Why do you keep dying, N/N?” He teases as you respawn in game.

“Think you can do better?” You ask, taking a right this time.

“I know I can.” You hear him mutter from the bed behind you.

You press pause, taking your hand of the controller. “Alright guys, you're all talk, why don’t you give it a try huh.”

“Cause we like watching you suffer.” Clay answers. You look over to your roommates, each and every one of them grinning at you.

With a loud sigh you continue playing the game, causing a lot of giggles and teasing as you almost have a heart attack. Nick and Clay keep their commentary coming as George mainly focusses on your chat. You get to the savepoint and finally end the stream.

Turning around in your chair so you face Clay. “I really hate you guys, that was the scariest shit I’ve ever played.”

George rests his arm on your shoulder. “No you don’t.”

“You love us.” Nick adds.

[untitledtheunknown]

Not my best work, but ya know trying. Umbra torture porn, just him solo jacking it to Execution Time and some of his own archives.

Words - 2267

Not super graphic, but normal blood and suffering would expect him to be into. I am full of regret, so enjoy.

For most the screams would have been ear splitting, the sight too much to take in, but for some this was their fantasy. For Umbra, it was welcoming company now, the normal names popping up in chat, clipping moments, discussing the details. The screams continued as the electric volts shot through the victim, their head snapping back as their spine arched. Straining against the restraints on the chair holding them in place.

Umbra is sat propped up in some dark corner of a run down motel, blood smears on the wall and used needles shoved under the mattress. Some place you stay to hide for the night or die, a place where nobody recognizes names and has never seen faces. The internet is solid though and that's all he really needed.

Laptop screen illuminating the darkness, image of the fried body reflected in his black eyes. Chat continued to scroll, eddies being passed around on bets, messages on how the eyes popped, begging the cameras to be moved closer. Umbra shifted on the filthy mattress taking in the smoking form of the dead man before him. Part of the thrill, knowing that could be him, could be any one of the pervs in chat. He loved it, watching the filth who got caught be killed, survival of the fittest, and the fit sat laughing at it.

The screen goes black as the next execution is queued up. A quick section on the criminal, what state they're out of, and method of execution. Lethal injection. Chat sparks up immediately with links to place bets on the time, money being thrown around to switch out the vials. Arguments starting that they should just use bleach, an internal cleaning for the damned. Umbra can't help but smirk at some of the messages flying through, people so deep into the BD addictions they were no different than him. Wanting to witness torture, suffering, felt morally right because these were criminals. He knew they couldn't separate reality from their fiction though, that this was all content and nothing more. A few may be just as twisted as him, enjoying it for what it was. As he began to learn though it was all just an addiction now, another chase for a different type of high, the line between morals skewed and erased. Was all just content, entertainment, nobody was in the wrong here.

He sits in silence, metal fingers tapping across the keyboard on the laptop. Sending messages back to a small group engaged in more graphic types of execution. The screen eventually comes back and a woman is standing in front of the camera. Final rites are being performed, whatever follows for the legal course. Everything is muted, but he can tell by the look the woman doesn't care. No remorse, no fear, she's accepted her fate and just wants to get it over with. She moved back to sit in the execution seat, leaned back and arms bound to the armrests. Umbra watches intently, head tilted to the side playing with a ring weaved into his dreadlocks. He can see the furrowed brow, the annoyance on the woman's face. The doctor comes up and injects the needle and she spits in his face. Chat lights up with people laughing, emotes and money flying bye, both cheering her on as one of them and chanting for her death.

She looks dead into the camera after that, waiting for her death to come. Something washes over him at that glare. It mimics his own, a reflection he's seen in the mirror so many times. He smirked back at the screen, pushing the laptop to the side, adjusting himself on the bed. Watching as the injection is given, his hand moving to grope himself through his pants.

Free hand running up his side to the exposed vent, metallic fingers dancing across where synthetic flesh meets metal. Fingers slipping in and his system lights up, hud display flashing a warning that he quickly dismisses. He knew his limits, how far he could push his system before it went critical. The first jolt has him rolling his head back, squeezing his cock through his pants. Had been too long since he found pleasure, the sensation feeling almost foreign.

He watched with interest, intent, imagining what the prisoner was feeling. He could see the rage in her eyes, not about her death but that she had been caught to begin with. She was a fighter, and this was a pathetic way out. Only riled him up more. Could tell the moment the poison hit her system, the veins jolting out, the sudden attack to her body. He sunk further into the filthy mattress, groping at his stiffening cock. Free hand running along his body, under the torn tank-top and along his torso. Metal fingers catching at the splits of skin where the metal peaks through, metal bones shifting just beneath the flesh, body responding to the touch.

Doesn’t take long for the woman to succumb to the poison in her system, final moments of struggle leaving her body, fading out as she goes slack in the seat against her restraints. It's all too quick he thinks, there’s nothing involved in this method, it's just a glimpse and then everything is over. Finds himself siding with the chat, should have used bleach or some acid, given a real show for the money they’re throwing around.

Doesn’t take long and the next stream is up, another hanging, but the scene has him perked up. Prisoner has blood on his forehead and the guard has a busted nose, another bastard with some type of fight to the very end. Everything is harsh with how they move him, the positioning, they tighten the noose too tight around the convict’s neck and he knows where this is going. They’re going to make his last moments hell, make the poor gonk suffer to his death.

Anticipating he can feel his cock twitch under his grip, straining up against his pants. Final rites are given and Umbra is pulling himself out, kicking his pants off to the side of the bed and letting his legs fall open. Stroking slowly as he watches for the drop. When it does he’s not disappointed, the eager twitch in his palm as he squeezes his own grip. His free hand finding the ends of his dreads wrapped around his neck, tightening them to the scene. Neck only cracked, convict very much alive swinging as dead weight as its up to suffocation to take him. Body jolting in a natural display for survival as everyone simply watches and counts down the seconds.

His pace picks up on the strokes, chin lifted as a display of his own throat, dreads pulled tight to the resistance of metal. It's enough though, barely, he can feel the edge somewhere deep down and a faded high he’s chasing. Stroking himself to the dying heartbeat, to every twitch, to the look of pain and horror. Everyone is a tough bitch until death is consuming them, then the begging starts, the tears, the pleads. Oh how he loves it, how he wishes he could hear their thoughts, the bastards pleading to be spared.

Doesn’t take long for him to get into the motions, hips jerking up to meet his strokes. He’s seen enough people hung he knows how it all goes, but when the vendetta is met where it becomes personal- makes it all the much better. Hips jerking up as his hand squeezes down around the base, straining for friction, wanting so much more. What he wouldn’t give to have a warm body beneath him. Have his toy taking the brunt of his frustration, pent up rage and lust. The snapping of a neck has never sounded so good.

His cock twitched in his hand, a bead of precum dripping down from the head. Robotic fingers stretching to smear it down his shaft. Slow stroke up and teasing the head. Shifting as he watched the body twitch, the final moments of life dying out. His cock pulsing in his hand as he pulled tighter on the dreads around his neck. Felt teased at this point, executions were too quick. Nothing drawn out and truly painful. Feel the frustration boiling over in him. Pulling up a separate tab and plugging himself in, split screen of his own archives. Decades of interrogations, torture sessions, and murders. Attention flickering back to the execution page for what's to come.

Spitting into his hand he leaned back, laptop screen illuminating his face with footage and pictures of his own doing. The second screen comes back with another 3 women to be hung. Stroked himself slowly to the tears, the pleads, the bruises and blood. His grip tightened around himself as the nooses were secured around the women's necks.

A glimmer of a moment, where oddity would set in. That this was wrong, but the fixation of death is what always did him in. Those seconds where people would stand in the in-between. That's what he loved the most out of it, all he could get from these sites. Watching those like him, lessers to him, be met with such a fate, riled him. Watching others be tortured and murdered at his hand was only the next substitute to get him over.

Feelings were rare, he just needed to get off and be done. Transfixed though, dragging it out, choking himself, fingers slipping into his side vent and his hips bucked up into his fist. Jaw clenched tight as he steadied himself. Twisting his fist down his shaft, squeezing at the base and twisting at the swelling head. Warm metal against hot flesh, watching intently at every move on screen. The words meant nothing, but the silence he knew what was about to happen. The floor falling out and the last seconds of misery wiped away.

All dead within seconds, necks snapped and twisted around the ropes. Feet twitching as the body processes its over. Umbra lets out a long slow breath, grabbing his cock at the base and slapping it against his abdomen. Attention shifting to his own videos, the blood spurting out of open gashes, gurgling up from the throat. Desperate hands trying to fight him off, watching the last of their strength fade away, the life in their eyes go dull snuffing out, and their hands falling back to the ground.

Flicking to the next capture, the next memory, biting hard enough on his lip to draw blood. He remembers the man, a corpo in the wrong place at the wrong time. Trying to find his dealer and stumbling upon a monster feasting. A low moan escapes between parted lips and he doesn’t recognize it as his own. The sheer look of horror, the panicked scream and tumble as he tried to turn on heel and run. Blade sinking into the man’s ankle dragging him back into the mess. Then it's just blow after blow, blood spraying up with each pull of his fist. The point of submission came too quickly and he had backed off.

Umbra groaned as he watched the scene, the man spitting up blood from busted teeth and broken nose. The perfect façade broke as he laid there suffering on the floor. Long slow strokes speeding up, fisting at his cock as he watched, fingers again playing with the vents at his side. The electric racing through his body, making him arch back into it, hips stuttering up into his fist. Tongue flicking out smearing the blood from his lip, only making it all feel so much more real.

See himself climb on top of the corpo blood coated hands running along his beaten face. The soft hush and broken whimper, grasping him with such care, thumbs stroking over bloody cheeks before pushing them into his eyes. Screams engulfing the room, and Umbra can’t stifle the moan that wracks through him. Watching himself pull back to admire the scene, blood running from the eye sockets, mumbled pleas to be let go. Was no fight to begin with, but the man made such a pretty image. Watching him slowly bleed, removing the knife from his ankle and slicing a clean line across his chest. Only drawing a whimper but soon the front of the shirt stains red, and another gash joins it.

He’s close then, such a simple action, a simple kill and it's got him spiraling over. He watches as the knife comes up, the pathetic cry for it to end, and then it's over. Knife plunged deep into his chest, twisted and ripped back out. Throwing his head back as his cock strains and pulses, stroking himself over the edge. Moan leads to a choked off scream as he cums, body shaking with the climax. Ropes of cum spilling onto his abdomen and up to his chest. Stroking the last of it out up to a squeeze on the swollen head. Wiping what ends up on his hand onto the mattress and just falling back onto the bed. Slapping the laptop closed, over the whole thing.

Lays there in silence for several minutes, staring up at the ceiling. Part of him really hates himself, not so much for getting off but only being able to at his own work. Yet only able to think of that corpo, if it wasn't for the heat of the moment, would have dragged it out. Such a waste of a pretty face. Then the smile cracks, that dangerous laugh, and he’s floating. He’s got another.

[black-streak]

Waiting for the Worms - Run like Hell

Part 21

Turns out, I was so put off by my lack of writing over the last week or so and annoyed at my sickness that I decided to shove through this chapter as well. Took me so much less time to write than usual.

I only have... Two more chapters planned out for this fic and I'm pretty sure that'll be the end of this. Maybe snippets that didn't fit the story line or the likes will come after, but the official end is almost upon us.

CLOSED LIST of the following dedicated readers: @northernbluetongue @thethirdwheelfriend @shizukiryuu @theatreandcomicfreak @michellemagic @karategirl119 @moonlightstar64 @my-name-is-michell @mystery-5-5 @zalladane @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @miraculousdisapointment @dorkus-minimus @jardimazul @allthebooksandcrannies @g-arya @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @persephonescat @mycupisbroken @luciferge @18-fandoms-unite-08 @dawnwave16 @alwaysreblogneverpost @kris-pines04 @emjrabbitwolf @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @weird-pale-blonde-person @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @kokotaru @naclychilli @slytherinhquinn @clumsy-owl-4178 @ladybug-182 @darkthunder1589 @evil-elf16 @dast218 @lysslovsanime @emilytopaz @naoryllis @iloontjeboontje @thepeacetea @danielslilangel @finallyaniguana @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @vixen-uchiha @yuulxd @bleeding-heart-romantic @magic-inthe-stars @st0rmy-w1th1n

~---~

Old habits die hard when you try for cold turkey. Jason and the team knew that for a fact. It's why they ended up switching up miraculouses and patrolling random cities on intervals. It also helped in that it made their existence more world surfacing. Random sightings across a global scale of humanesque animal figures prowling the nights, taking out petty crooks and villains alike. Lurking in shadows and watching the nightlife unfold below them. Guardians to all. One miraculous never appeared with the same figure in one city for more than a few nights, not since Paris. 

No one needed to know it was just their group becoming restless from inactivity. 

For that same reason, it came second nature to switch hands and even travel to collect different kwamis that night for a patrol around the Gotham rooftops. Not a one of them commented on the assassin or little bird that followed them from a mile off. Marinette and Tim had the right to their own restlessness and surely Tim wished to study their team further. To determine how they worked together, their dynamic, their morals. 

Damian had pitched a fit until Mari made him promise to stay home so as to keep his existence unknown to the Bat, allowing him to stay watch over the remaining kwamis for the night. The boy had settled down right away and curled up on the couch with his pocket sized pets.

Occasionally the two behind them would stop a little ways off, the assassin pointing out their figures as they made specific choices or movements and explaining how it worked, how they made the decision, and how to replicate it. The sheer trust she instilled in her bird companion threw them all for a loop, but they refused to question her in this, especially in front of him.

Other times, he stopped her to point out different aspects of the city that had changed or ask an opinion of her. They couldn't help but wonder if the boy knew they all had enhanced senses in this form and knew every word that came from their lips. If he did, he made the choice to allow them to hear, obviously trained enough to keep out of even animal hearing ranges if need be. Otherwise, he thought them far away enough or simply didn't care if they could. Jason hoped he knew, hoped Mari informed the bird and allowed him the choice. It was always a toss up on if she felt the need to be open and honest or to deceive those around her. Normally, Jason could tell, but not quite from this distance.

The comm unit Marinette picked up from Babs picked up halfway through their night, "B's in your route," Oracle informed.

"Any chance you can derail him?" Mari asked, as Jason turned to stare back at the twitching form of Robin. Nothing else gave him away, the face emotionless and stance as relaxed as a vigilantes could afford, except the slight twitch at the words being spoke into the two's ears.

"Not a chance. He's caught sight of a curly tailed figure in pink ahead."

Chloe.

"He's likely to run in to the bunch then. We'll split from here and make our way around," Mari responded as the bird took a step closer to her, hand reaching for his own ear.

"He's livid, isn't he?"

"Beyond so."

"Presumptuous over my disappearance?"

"Barely took note until a few nights ago. Now under the impression they stole you to get back at him."

Jason watched as the kid suppressed a flinch and ground his jaw instead, "He thought I went to the titans, didn't he?"

"Yup. Only made his second theory after a check in with them revealed you never came by. You know, for the world's supposed greatest detective, he refuses to use even a quarter of his brain towards people he claims to care about."

"When has he ever claimed to care about me?"

"Touche," the comm went quiet again as the two started in another direction and Jason began to turn towards where he knew Chloe would run into the man soon enough.

"Shit!" He whipped back around at Oracle's curse.

"He's caught sight of you, Robin. Sorry Tim, you've got to make your choice now, he's headed your way," she let off a stream of curses as everyone froze for a moment before everything went into motion once more.

Jason directed his team to intercept as the assassin gestured the bird forward, allowing him to run ahead of her away from Batman as the others took on the Bat, attempting to distract the man from his goal. 

He hated the idea of forcing Tim into facing off with Bruce at this point. He deserved the time to make his mind up first. That however seemed to be off the table as the bat evaded them all as best he could, taking advantage of their using miraculous they were less familiar with to escape and continue his pursuit of the red, green, and yellow suit running away from the scene.  At his juncture, all he could do was keep on the man's cape, following him leap for leap towards the two getaways.

The two were lithe and agile, keeping pace together as they bounded from rooftop to rooftop, slipping around corners and scurrying up walls with not a moment to spare as the Bat's size prevented him from making the same moves.

Robin would yank her down side alleys and up hidden ramps he left about the city as she guided him through the less savory parts of town that she grew up with Jason in, knowing hidden pathways and spaces too small and unknown for the bulk of the larger pursuants to follow, losing distance while trying to relocate the two without slowing down. Sure, Jason knew those paths as well as she did, but there was no way he would give that away, forcing the man to continue moving to evade him, even without a clear direction of which way they went.

At one point, Batman landed a hair too close, hand snagging into the cape of Robin's uniform. It was sheer luck on all of their parts that his companion noticed a second earlier and unclasped the damned thing a moment before, the cape coming loose in the man's hand right above a hundred foot drop, fueling the anger in Jason's blood at the blatant disregard for the boy's safety. He felt his eyes tilt green, but fought off the urge, forcing his focus on keeping up with the three to ensure the man never caught up with the two.

They swerved off path and Jason wished he could say he realized what was happening, but unfortunately couldn't as they landed directly in the path of the two, cutting them off from their escape.

Robin lurched back into the Assassin's chest, where she steadied him before offering for him to hide behind her despite the similarity in stature not offering much in the way of coverage. Jason gave props for the way Robin shook his head and stood firmly in place, once more emotionless. Not guilty as the first Robin might've been, nor defiant as he would've. Simply closed off in a glacier ice in contrast to Batman's thunderous storm.

"Robin. You look well," the bats eyes narrowed.

"Well thank you, I appreciate your noticing," he responded in the clipped tone of the backhanded socialites he was raised around, knowing how it irritated Bruce when the sarcasm was laced with sincerity.

"With such health, I must wonder why you've yet to return," Batman hedged, starting to put together the pieces.

"Simply observing all my options as I was advised. Would hate to miss out on a better opportunity due to negligence."

The man growled, hearing the accusation for what it was. Jason moved closer behind him, ready to intervene if needed. The figure behind Tim closed in as well, resting a careful hand on the boy's back. The man before them only seemed to tense up at this, lurching forward, only for the way to be blocked.

"Oh hey, Birdy. Looks like you have some interesting company here, mind introducing me?" Nightwing casually strolled over to Robin, draping his arm across smaller shoulders and leading him away, smiling at the assassin, eyes cutting to Batman in a challenge, "I'm sure the Bat won't mind seeing himself out so I can catch up with my baby brothers."

The man tensed up, taking in their figures, three of which he trained himself, another that received the same, if not more training than him. Then glancing up to the four dark figures watching from further up, ready to descend at a moment's notice. Looking back to his eldest, his scowl deepened, but he nodded and took off from the group.

Jason couldn't help but wonder if it were due to the likelihood of his loss or just not thinking Tim worth the effort. As much as the latter pissed him off, he couldn't help but be glad for the lack of a fight. He's not sure how long he could hold off the pit madness had it come to blows.

As soon as the Bat fell out of range, Robin looked up towards Nightwing, "You're here as well?"

"Oracle sent me in. I think we have some catching up to do," he smiled at the boy, then looked up towards Jason as though to include him in his words.

Marinette chose this moment to speak up from under her guise, "Oh hey, Richard. Fancy seeing you here."

[staandreamteam]

“YO, SOMEONE CLIP THAT!” (1)

Excitement

a feeling of great enthusiasm and eagerness.

"YES! I WENT TO THE SECOND STRONGHOLD, HA HA!"

(In this Minecraft fanfiction, you actually spawn INTO the game of Minecraft, and feel pain and damage, adding to the tension.)

"Hey, you lovely degenerates! Star here, and today we're going to be playing Minecraft Manhunt, based on the ever-popular YouTuber Dream, along with his friends! No, I don't have anyone to play with, so today, it's Minecraft Youtuber vs. Terminator! Woo-Hoo!" The chat erupted into claps, or well, saying claps as you adjusted the (favorite color) headset on your head. It wasn't normal for them to get this much attention, more or less 700 viewers on their stream. You gave a small chuckle at it, as you loaded up the famous Minecraft screen, the soft glowing of the screen illuminating your (skin color) face as you gave your most signature grin. Loading a random world and updating some of your other platforming games, you found yourself in a mushroom biome, one of the rarest biomes in the games. No trees, which meant that you had to make a literal break for it after you spawned the terminator in. 

Pulling up the chat, everyone was spamming "RUN" "GO" or something along those lines. Giving a small chuckle, and flirting your (eye color) eyes around the surroundings, you found that there was a shipwreck, maybe 100 blocks off from the spawn.

"You guys ready?"

Spawning the terminator in, you found yourself quickly running off towards the shipwreck, while you heard heavy footsteps behind yourself. Moving towards the mushroom biomes, you took the time to actually get some of the mushrooms from the ground and giant ones above, making sure that the terminator was always one step behind you as you took off towards the water. Dirt sounds were being built as you dove into the water, the small bubble of airs popping in front of you as you swam your way towards the shipwreck. Thankfully, it was on land, so you didn't have to worry about swimming all the way down towards the bottom of the ocean in hopes of trying not to drown.

Seeing that it was capsized, you quickly got onto the ship, searching around for the chest. Enchanted leather boots and helmet, iron and gold ingots, and some emeralds. Not a good find, but at least it offered some protection in the ways that you could protect yourself from the terminator. 

"Oh boy.. I need wood."

Mumbling to yourself, you didn't realize that you were way behind on your normal schedule and that the terminator was getting closer than you had expected. Collecting only two pieces of wood from the shipwreck, you dove back off, but nothing was around. Seaweed and everything else yes, but nothing was really around for you to get past this guy without having to go and try to fight him off. You knew he did about 5 hearts of damage, so a combo on yourself would definitely kill you right here and there. You couldn't fight him off with a stick, no less than you had enough iron nuggets to only make two ingots.

Thinking about it, you started to realize you heard dolphins. Dolphins, by the shore? Well, that was a bit surprising. Seeing the dolphin to the side, you swam quickly up to the shore, seeing that the dolphin had already given you the effect of fast swimming. Letting out a chuckle, and flipping the terminator off, you swam off quickly, and in a little of given time, you were very far away from them, the dolphin finally leaving you as you made your way to shore. Grabbing some of the sand and throwing it into the water after you hauled yourself from it, you made your way through the birch forest, grabbing whatever you could to make a crafting table and an iron sword for protection. Making some gold ingots as well and cutting down some more leaves for apples, you decided to check in on your chat, and boy were they going wild.

THEY DID A DREAM SFKDLSAJFKDAS DREAM IS LITERALLY QUAKING ARE YOU SURE YOU'RE NOT DREAM'S ALTER EGO, BECAUSE-

Literally, all you could do was laugh, trying to convince them that no, they weren't Dream's alter ego, and two, it was just pure luck, not a Dream move. If they hadn't noticed the shipwreck earlier, you wouldn't have even made it this far in the game. Now knowing that you had at least a crazy lead on him, and you can respond to some of the donations (which you literally told them not to, but thanks anyway for the crazy donations) and pulled them up, starting to get to work on how they should get to the nether while mining in a cave.

"Since we're so far ahead, let's go ahead and read some donations from our lovely degenerates! Fluffy123 says 'That was such a dream move, poggers', with 5 dollars! What have I told you guys about donations up to 5 dollars?! I don't need it! But thanks anyways Fluffy, I didn't know I can pull off such a Dream move!"

"DreamTeamSimp says 'When are you going to collab with Pixel again?' Well, after a bit! She's currently moving into her own house, so maybe in a week or so, you're going to see some more Minecraft and Fall Guys collabs with us! And 3 dollars! Thank you so much!"

"TommyPoggers says 'If you could have any wish, what would it be?' for 4 dollars! Thank you, and to answer your question Tommy, for us to stop having COVID-19. I don't REALLY want everything to go back to the way it was, but if I had to choose, it would be that, even though the earth does well without us, and it's beautiful anyway!"

"DreamWasTakenToMars says 'Would you actually do a collab with Sapnap if you could?' for 99 cents! Awww, thank you! And yeah, I would! Y'all, he even said 'Baka' on a stream, causing all of us weebs and geeks to go wild, so heck if I could, I definitely would if I could!"

After reading the donations, you continued to talk with your chat, making sure that everyone was doing okay before you started to go back to concentrating on the game at hand, yelling a small yes in triumph as you found diamonds, RIGHT above the diamond level.

"well, at least I'll die happily!"

"POGGERS! LET'S FREAKING GO!"

You had knocked the terminator in the void, and right before you could fall in too, you placed a water bucket on the end stone above you, climbing up the water before quickly grabbing it back into the bucket. Running back to where you had the beds ready, you dodged the nearby endermen as you placed down the water in the small end hole, blocking yourself with stone as you placed the final bed. Watching everything unfold, your viewers had grown from 700 to at least 1,000 in the span of the 3 hours you were playing. 

The bed blew up, the dragon unleashing a growl of pain before exploding in a nearby light, causing you to look down as the portal below you showed the purple glowing of the end, as you fell through. The end of Minecraft, as you found yourself back in the real world, watching your chat say so much loving stuff you couldn't help but laugh. Donations were flooding, hearts were booming, people were actually subscribing as you gave another laugh, adjusting the microphone in front of your mouth, giving your favorite viewers a salute.

"Pog. We did it, we beat Minecraft, with a literal robot on our tail. Poggers! And thanks to everyone that donated during the stream, I hope I read all of yours! Now, let's get to naming some of the last donations that actually happened during the final moments!"

"Jason says 'that was absolutely incredible! Dream has competition.' Jason, no. I will never be as good as the Minecraft speedrunner himself, but thanks for saying that! Oh! And thank you for the 2 dollar donation, it really means a lot!"

"SappyNappy says 'don't you just love it when you get to the end' with a TEN DOLLAR DONATION?! HOLY MAN, YOU'RE LIKE THE TOP DONATOR! THANK YOU! And yeah! It's the feeling of you ending out of that relation that makes it feel so good!"

Everyone was still celebrating in the chat as you read the chat to them out loud, laughing, smiling, fussing, whatever came your way, you would try and answer it as quickly as possible to get to the next person with a question. You had gone by Star for at least a month now, gaining some sizable attention for playing Minecraft colorblind like George, half the world was missing plus blocks had gravity like Sapnap and Minecraft Manhunts but with some special twist on them like Dream. You didn't mean to accidentally copy what they were doing, you were just doing it for fun, for your viewers, and for your enjoyment!

"Alright alright, you lovely degenerates! That is it for this stream of "Minecraft Youtuber vs. Terminator! As always, poggers, simps, and everyone else in between have a lovely day, and I'll see you, IN THE NIGHT-TIME SKY!"

You gave a small wave, with a closed eye smile before going offline, many people saying bye before you closed down your twitch stream. Now, to any of you wondering, yes you do have a twitch account, with at least 1k people who are really much the best people you could ever ask for. You found your phone buzzing on your bed, as you pulled up the shut down button for your computer, seeing that your phone was going absolutely bonkers.

Giving a small groan, you got up, and just flopped on your bed as you looked at your twitter, and boy oh boy, it was going INSANE with clips of you outsmarting a computer once again, and again, and you had to chuckle at everyone, throwing your phone to a nearby charging station, and flopping into your bed, you silently started to doze off, the fan above you slightly moving your (hair color) (hair length) hair as you snored slightly. You never did really check all of your messages though.

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WiblurSoot: Damn, Dream has competition now, do we?

DreamWasTaken: Stfu @WiblurSoot, you bully your Minecraft fans in your bird videos.

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