I took my little brother (autistic, mostly non verbal) out and he was using his voice keyboard to tell me something, and this little boy (maybe 4 or 5?) heard him and asked me "Is he a robot??" I tried to explain to him that no, he isn't a robot, he just communicates differently, but my darling brother was in the background max volume "I am robot I am robot I am robot I am robot"
My little brother insisted if I was going to post about him, he wanted a cut of the "profits". When I explained to him that Tumblr isn't monetized, and is pretty pointless, he and my older brother pointed out that he'd still be bringing me "fame and notoriety" if the post got "big". So we agreed, if the post hit 10k notes, which seemed extremely farfetched and silly at the time, I'd take my little brother out for sushi (his favorite food) and let him eat as much as he wants.
I guess God wanted the little robot to enjoy some sushi 🍣 🥲
Small blab before the story, saw a video where someone talked about pushing their self for a year trying to see if this thing is for them, and I guess it inspired??? me to try the same thing for writing. I haven't been as consistent as I should but I did make this after a couple inspo videos lol. Basically about a soldier willing to meet with death after watching all his friends die 🫠. Friendly critique is welcome!
Beyond Death's Call
I feel the blow before I see it. An archer straying from his pack, knocking an arrow and aiming straight for my heart. I only notice him when I feel my blood trickling down my chest. I had hoped my armor would hold out till the end of this gruesome battle, but clearly not. I sink to my knees, staring him down, waiting for him to load another and finally finish me. But I'm not granted that courtesy, some king's guard comes barreling at him, and before the archer can redirect his attention the guard has his head rolling and is running to slay another, not even casting me a glance. I look around, catching glimpses of similar gore. It looks like we’re losing, with how many allies lie on the ground, blood leaking around them, eyes staring blankly- seemingly staring at me. I’m the last of our heroes’ group. I think of all my friends who have fallen before me here.
Erin- our tank- was already blown to smithereens by a sneaky bomb goblin before the battle began. I remember her excitement when the king summoned us, saying this would be the battle of ages and we all will go down in history. She was still smiling when half of her face was destroyed by the shrapnel. Willem- our artificer, a real whiz with technology- missed the warning call of harpies descending from the heavens. He said his drones would defend him from any danger while he worked on his metal giant. He didn't plan on this grueling rainstorm, causing the drones to lose their senses and take each other down. Now his metal giant lies on the ground, crushing his corpse and causing others to join him in the nine hells. I wish I had spoken to him more than the few times I had, just to know if there was anyone waiting for him to come home victorious. Fae and Lynn were already too far ahead of me and the other two for us to see what had happened. The battle and thunderstorm was raging too loudly for us to even hear their cries. I only know they fell because I stumbled over their broken bodies. Some kobolds were trying to surround me so while fleeing I tripped over Fae. I looked back just long enough to see them, nearly holding each other but just barely too far from the other's grasp- either by foe or friend they were pushed apart. They were lovers, joining our troop as a means to guarantee a safe world- not just for the people, but for their future children. I almost strayed for too long looking into their empty eyes, not able to grasp the other one more time, before I had to move on. And now here I am. A dying soldier just waiting to bleed out.
I finally fall back, unable to stay on my knees and continue looking into the bloodshed I could have stopped. Instead I grit my teeth and stare into the dark clouded sky, rain pelting my face, waiting for death to welcome me, to finally see all my lost friends again. And my wife. My beautiful, brilliant, loving wife. She was lost to an attack on our little cottage many years ago. I came back home late from a fishing trip and our home was up in flames. I could still hear her screaming, begging for help, for it to end. I could do nothing but stand there and listen to her cry out my name. It was only when it was all burnt to ashes that I finally walked into the rubble. I found her in what was our bedroom, curled up with her necklace clutched in her hands. I later found out that a group of bandits were traversing the woods for a good burglary and vowed to seek them out. I joined the army the same day, gained the skills in combat I thought would be good enough, and sought out my party to join.
I grab her necklace that’s still safely around my neck and feel my eyes become heavy with exhaustion. I feel my heart finally come to a stop. My head lifts upward and take what is most likely my last breath, preparing for what comes next.
“You shall not join me yet, my love.” I hear a wispy voice say.
My eyes shoot open and see my wife holding my head, staring into my eyes, my soul. She’s as beautiful as the day I last saw her. My brow knits together in confusion.
“This is not your time. There is still too much for you to finish. Get up and end this grueling battle.” She says, eyes filling with tears. I feel my vision blur as well, my voice frozen with all I have wanted to say for the past 6 years. That I’m sorry I was not there. That I was too cowardly to avenge her, that I couldn’t slay those bandits and ruin the families they created.
“I know it hurts my love,” She caresses my cheek, where a bruise has developed from a recent spat. “But take what strength I can lend and fight, if not for yourself then for your fellow men-in-arms.” She slowly leans down and I feel her velvet lips meet mine, and try to hold onto this moment for the next millennia. But she pulls away before I can relax into it. And I feel my body lift upright and become ablaze. Thunder seems to strike around me, causing a few others to look my way. My fatal wound fades away as my armor seemingly repairs itself, every dent and scrape merging together forming a stronger protection. I feel the weight of it pull me down but I manage to stay upright. I look down at my chest, no longer an arrow piercing my now beating heart. My armor has become this dark metal and nearly doubled in size from my last set. My sword this beautiful creation- a long brown handle with a blue gem in the middle of the hilt and a huge silver blade with a gold line running down the middle to the tip.
“Swear to me.” My wife whispers in my ear. “Swear to me you will wait until the time is right to join me. And I swear I will be the one to walk you past the veil.” I look towards her- she seems to be floating to stay at my height- and see her wicked smile. I smile back, determined to finish this battle, and swear my oath. She takes my arm holding my sword and raises it towards the black entity in the distance. “Then you damn well make sure of it.” And vanishes with the storm, almost instantly bringing the light of day back.
fanart for the only streamer i ever watch now, daiazal the goat 🙏
i still feel horrid so i wanted to draw something a bit more low-stakes but i could still make somewhat pretty. hope you like the improvised "basic dweller" here LMAO
