They Don Want A Repeat Of The Sonic Incident.

They don want a repeat of the Sonic incident.

This year really belongs to Marvel.

Can you perhaps do a part 3 to your vox machina x child reader series something about a reveal of the readers race or something or perhaps a continuation of the story if that’s ok with you I just love your vox machina shots

Being a child member of Vox Machina and… | Vox Machina x child reader Pt. 3

Summary | Kid’s got some issues and so does Vox.

A/N | Sorry this took so long been getting into campaign 2 trying to decide if I want to do a child reader for that.

Genre | platonic, angst, fluff, mystery?

Warnings | death, descriptions of blood and violence, panic attack

Initially, you hadn’t been bitter. You didn’t fit the image one was expected to present for such a dignified social event. Not even considering your age, you were small, gangly, freckled and with hair that couldn’t keep its place. You didn’t/wouldn’t belong in a high-profile party.

Still, the joint excitement of Vox Machina had somewhat infected you. Now you found yourself wanting to attend the high-profile event. To combat your pouty face, Keyleth did your hair. Grog offered you ale, which Pike immediately shut down, and Vax tried peek-a-boo with his cloak. Ultimately, it was Percy’s promise to recount everything you’d be missing so long as you were brave and good that placated you.

Vex, you didn’t understand, was a nervous wreck. Leaving you in the keep, with no one to watch after you. Though, you would have Trinket. 

It took multiple assurances from Vax and Percy before they were able to take their leave. You had the keep to yourself.

You crept with Trinket into Grog’s room. Tied only with Vex’s room, you considered his to be one of the most comfortable. With the stash of fur pelts, warm temperature and large bed, it was the perfect place to settle down until Vox returned.

After some time you heard the door, the entry to the keep open, sitting on Trinket’s back you rode to the entry. Your excitement fled upon seeing the seven in shackles, escorted by a small march of guards. In a blink, you paint yourself as a hapless child who’d only just woken. Jarrett, sympathetic to your guise, apologized for the late intrusion, explaining the terms of Vox’s arrest.

House arrest, it could be worse. Allura had essentially grounded the lot of you. Well, not you. According to Jarett, she had clarified that you were allowed to roam freely with proper adult accompaniment and so long as you returned home at a proper time.

The keep was swept clean and all the team’s weapons confiscated, including Scanlan’s instrument. Fortunately, your room was left in peace. Still, you were upset greatly watching the guards tether Trinket to a tree.

Ordered by the Sovereign to remain confined in the keep, there was nothing to do but wait. After assuring you everything would be alright, Vex passed you off to Keyleth silently mouthing an instruction to shield your ears. A thick ornate crown of lush flowers decorated your hair. 

You had caught bits of what had gone down at the feast. Vax feared himself turning into a vampire. Scanlan had a book to translate. Pike was quiet. According to Grog, the food was decent.

You weren’t the type with a keen sense of smell. It was your ears that performed unnaturally well. If a tree fell in the forest and no one was around to hear it, you would. Even with Keyleth’s floral muffler, you were able to discern the biting conversation between Percival and Vex’ahlia. 

Something or other about people killing Percy’s family. To be honest, you were more intrigued by the book left open on the table. 

There were whispers, multiple voices at once, emanating from the dark pages. Their voices sounded distant, their words imperceptible, and yet at the same time crystal clear. Their raspy hissing voices, infecting your mind.

Stress flares up in your head. There is a moment you feel it; the fog beginning to clear. Memories starting to take shape, though still blurred like an old painting. In this moment, as certain figures began to take shape, you could feel a deep sadness traveling through every cell.

“Y/n, Magpie, are you alright?”

Vax’s voice disrupted the whispers. He had, at some point, moved. Now he knelt, crouched beside Keyleth, attention focused on you. His eyes carried a gentle concern.

Keyleth brushes a thumb across your cheeks. It’s then you realize you’re crying. Cold, silvery tears came as a frigid flood, uncontrolled and unwanted. It hadn’t been until the tender hand wiped away some of the tears that you even realized you were crying. You had no reason to, right? So you didn’t understand why you were.

Glancing to the side, over Vax’s shoulders, you notice the other members of Vox standing around the door. Percy’s peering out around the door, canvassing the corridor on the other side.

“Let’s get out of here, shall we?” Vax offered gently, extending his arms for you to jump into.

A decision had been reached between the members of Vox. You’d be breaking out. They were forced to escape under the darkness of shadow from their own keep. 

Vox concluded your silent tears were the consequence of claustrophobia. A fear they understandably assumed you had, as you had been held in captivity for who knows long prior to meeting them.

This, unfortunately, was not the case.

All the while, as they twisted through the secret tunnels below the keep, you held on to Vax, trying to sort through the deluge of memories still just out of focus. The harder you tried, the more your lips trembled, tears pooling from your eyes.

Jarrett stood with a group of his men at the exit of the passage. Once again, the members of Vox found themselves under the escort of the guard. This time, though, you were all split. Vax, Vex and Scanlan had been pushed into the kitchen; Percy and Keyleth into the Percy’s workshop; Grog and Pike into the chapel. 

Jarrett decided you would stay in the common area, as he believed there was little chance any of the members of Vox would try escaping without you. If only you believed that.

Fortunately, this was the room where they stored the colored chalk. 

You needed to calm yourself. You stopped trying to restore the diluted memories. It made your head pound and heart sting. Instead, you settled on the stone floor and began to draw.

You could hear the whispers of a conversation between the two guards. One was complimenting your rudimentary artistic skills while also making little suggestions on how you could improve. The other was telling their partner to shut it. When the two fell silent, you looked over at them. You then extended your hand, a blue piece of chalk held between your fingers. An invitation.

Your ears twitched. You left your spot and moved to the window. As you went, you could hear an argument between the two guards over their cross hatching techniques. They did not choose the right career path.

Outside, you could hear the nervous whines of Trinket. Something was out there. Whispered hisses, not unlike those you heard emanating from the book, circled the keep. And there were screams. The kind of screams that had a raw intensity that warned of threat, and cried out of desperate need.

Moreover, there was this creeping feeling as if a dark presence was looming in your periphery, breathing icy clouds on the back of your neck. It was giving you goosebumps and a feeling of gut wrenching wrongness.

You sped to the door, only to discover the larger wooden doors were locked, and you didn’t have the key. “Slow down there, kiddo. We’re on strict orders not to let you leave this room until further notice.” One of the two guards spoke. 

Your eyes narrowed, spotting the set of brass keys looped on their hip.

Your small hands pound on the door of the workshop, your little voice calling out to Percy and Keyleth, who you knew were inside. Not a moment later, the doors to the chapel busted out. They slammed against the opposite wall, splintering into pieces.

“Tiny, what’s going on!?”

You explained to Grog, as well as a child your age could you, the unsettling presence you felt closing in. Though your explanation was muddied by some fright filled babbling, both Pike and Grog appeared to take your discomfort seriously.

They rallied the others, gathering the team in the large entry of the keep. Freeing the others from their respective holding rooms, you noted, was suspiciously easy. Surely you hadn’t been the only one left under watch.

There was a discourse. Everyone was confused and on high alert. “Where is everybody?” You spoke aloud, your soft voice managing to capture Vox’s attention despite their loud conversation.

Soon after you posed the question, Jarret and three of his soldiers retreated into the building, hurriedly locking the door behind them. Immediately, they placed the blame on Vox, which you guessed was fair. But this time all in the party were, in fact, blameless.

The true assailants hid in the shadows above. Wraiths, beings who take pleasure in watching the life drain from their victims, were perched in the rafters watching the lot of you. Like predators stalking their prey. There was barely time to take arms before they took initiative and lunged for the group.

Nevermind the two guards brutally kill, it was their targeted attack on Scanlan from which Vox realized they were after the book. Eyes rolled back black inky ichor pooling from his mouth, ears, and eyelids. Vex moving quickly, grabbed the fallen spell book and passed it to Keyleth just as a wraith bled into her body.

You would be having nightmares about this.

Gathering the injured members, Vox and the last guard to remain, Jarret retreated into the war room. You were trapped. As Vex pointed out, they needed a way to fight it. You could hear the rasping, cold, hollow screams of the wraiths, even as they grew quieter, on the other side of the door.

Jarret passed Vex and Vax weapons, though even you knew such arms would be useless. Vax had tried in vain to cut through them with his dagger when they had wrenched through Scanlan. Unfortunately, their bodies were amorphous dark fluid shadows harmlessly cut through.

You had faced many threats in your time with Vox Machina. Mere days ago they’d defeated a dragon. Something about these assailants, perhaps their connection with the book, made you want to jump right out of your skin. It was paralysing. There was this foreign yet all too familiar feeling of being insignificant. Shaking, terrified, you straighten your posture awaiting the blow, you for an inexplicable reason expected to come.

You felt a hand grip your shoulder. Your defensive instincts kicked in. You went straight for the wrist, biting into what you registered as a threat. Both fortunately and unfortunately, it was only Vax. Luckily, your bite had only been a warning, no fangs.

He recoiled, his brain stuttering for a moment. He wasn’t sure what threw him more, the two puncture marks on his wrist beginning to ooze crimson or the pure look of unmatched terror in your eyes.

You had been crying earlier over what he still wasn’t sure. He’d wiped your tears and held you close. Vox had heard your pained screams and witnessed fear take over you, sending you running to hide behind one of them for safety. This terror, this raw intense dread that crippled you completely, was new.

There is a scream. Keyleth is dragged up the wall, ichor streaming from her eyes and mouth. Then the candles blow out. In one swift movement, Vax pushes you beneath the table, then ready’s himself for the inevitable battle. He'd bring up your bite later.

The sounds of Vox’s violent acts are flooded out by the noise of your heart beating in your chest. It’s the sound of war drums on the horizon, each beat taking up pace growing louder. Buh-Bum. Buh-Bum. Buh-Bum.

Silence. After a cacophony of vicious screams, the keep goes still. You feel the chill in your blood, the coldness that brought the synapses of your brain to a stand still, begin to subside. Still, your thoughts were so scattered that functioning was challenging.

“(Y/n), darling?” Vex calls out, kneeling down to see you below the table. Noting your state, she slackened her composure, her battle hardened face softened. “(Y/n), dear, I believe you’re having a panic attack. We don’t have to stay here, darling. Would you like to leave?” She offered, carefully extending a hand. You nodded and allowed her to lead you out.

The fresh air was nice and the cool breeze tickled your exposed skin. Vex stayed by your side while the others quickly gathered what was needed. Jarret had decided to release Vox against the orders of the king and allow them to handle whatever manner of being had realised such terrifying assailants.

Leaned in against Vex’s side, you were soothed by her gentle heartbeat. Trinket laid close on your other side enough so that you could stroke his fur. You had barely lifted an arm in battle. Your only true action being disarming the guards that’d watched over you, an act you’d later learned, saved their lives. Still, you were exhausted.

As things were being put into order, Vax approached, scratching at the two marks you’d left in his wrist. “(Y/n), is everything alright? Are you okay?” He asks, crouching to match your height. He was concerned you could read it on his face.

“Those things, those wraiths. You wouldn’t let them take me too, would you?”

“I believe they were only after the—" Vax begins to remind, however, he stops himself when he notices the desperate look on your face. It happens sometimes. Vox forgets you’re just a child. He flashes you one of those charming-gentle-Vax’ildan smiles. “You know we’d rip any monsters apart before we’d let them hurt you.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes to give him a hug. “I apologise for biting you. I won’t do it again.” You whisper, relaxing into his embrace so fully it’s as if you’d melted together.

“Eh, it’s okay, Magpie. I’ve suffered worse.” Vax shrugs, peeling away from the hug. 

"Now you ready to go kill some vampires?”

Do you think Water Ashari are rare in Marquette more specifically the Rumedam desert, thus those few that do call the Jewel of Hope home are lauded as wonderous sorts? They are attuned to water, a rare resource in the desert!

Those that can bend it to their will, must be in positions of power in Ank'Harel. They have the potential to be the most corrupt or compassionate individuals as they control a resource detrimental to many survival.

I bet there's a cult. Oh my gosh I hope there is. Imagine an oasis in the middle of the desert with a temple to a single Water Ashari individual. In Vesrah this individual was one of many but in the desert they ascended to false godhood. Imagine the individual's ancestors keeping up the lie not out of pursuits of power but compassion to all those lost desert wanderers and nomadic people in need their oasis to stay alive.

stealing disney plus for like 8 months was worth this alone im in tears

it’s the 21st day of the 21st year of the 21st century.

you can only reblog this today.

Being a child member of Vox Machina and… | Vox Machina x child reader

Summary | Young reader is rescued by Vox Machina. After deciding to follow them in their travels they are somewhat taken under the wings of the group.

Genre | platonic, fluff

You were small when Vox Machina rescued you with a cluster of other children from the clutches of a vicious band of mercenaries that had decided to try their hand at child trafficking.

You were somewhat disappointed it wasn’t your parents who’d rescued you. A small part of you had hoped it would be them didn’t show, but now you had a chance at finding your family again.

Older children, teens really, took up arms, deciding to fill the new vacuum that would be left by the slaughtered mercenaries. However, they swore to do right by your saviors and tread a more righteous path, perhaps even free children less fortunate.

The younger were eager to return to their homes, and your saviors assured them there would be many to help them find their way in a near-by village. You were young, tiny. But unlike the other children, you had no place to return to once the dust had stilled and blood dried. No place you could name.

One of the roguish band seemed to notice you lagging behind the assortment of children trekking towards freedom. You were the smallest of the lot. Additionally, the unhealthy paleness of your skin suggested you’d been in captivity longer than the comparatively healthier looking younglings.

She offered you a spare cookie, so long as you promised, not let the others know. The wafer was dry and slightly stale, certainly not enough to satisfy your hunger, nonetheless you had something new to add to your very short list of favorite things in the whole world; cookies!

The band of rogues, or as they arrogantly called themselves Vox Machina, seemed nice enough in your opinion, a bit rough around the edges, funny. The biggest of the lot, from what you could tell, was a giant. They let a handful of kids use them as jungle gym as you all made your way. Conversely, the shortest walked alongside them, reminding the giant, buddy?, to be careful of the kids.

Then there was the purple short one and the person with antlers sprouting out of their head. They were funny to watch. The purple one swore he’d be able to help the antlered folk connect with kids, if they followed what they said exactly. Jumping ahead, the purple bard was now considered an easy tease, while the antlered one was particularly worshipped by the children of farmers after demonstrating her relationship with plants. (*Cough cough* peasants)

However, it was the other three you gravitated towards. The most level headed of the bunch, well as level-headed as one could be in this group of crazies. Ghost hair, pointy, and the kind one who’d given you the cookie. With the others corralling/entertaining the kids, they took up the lead, keeping a careful eye on the path ahead, weary of bandits.

You followed close at the heels of the kind one; you liked them the best. They didn’t seem to mind your presence, often checking for you when you began to fall behind. Ghost hair who walked by their side was distrustful, but the two waved off his concerns, poking at his mistrust of children.

You had never witnessed in your life such joy. Upon arriving at the nearest village, there were happy reunions as loved ones were reunited and hope was returned to those who received word of their family’s worry. The guards promised the remaining children they would be clothed and fed, then taken to their proper villages in due time. For the moment, the village had something to celebrate, and heroes to thank.

This gave you the perfect opportunity to disappear into the shadows. When the guards inquired where each of the unclaimed children were from, you were one who couldn’t put a name to the place, and unfortunately you couldn’t remember any landmarks of your home, just a river.

You didn’t know your surname, as your father had taken to calling you only by your affectionate nickname. Additionally, you didn’t know the names of parents. You were young. They were your mom and dad.

You refused to be hauled from village to village only to be placed in an orphanage when they couldn’t find your place. You wanted to find your parents; they had to miss you; you missed them.

You’d heard the purple one speaking, beastly spewing tales of the group's great travels across the lands. Vox Machina, a group of adventurers. Perhaps you could stowaway and use them to travel and find your family. (Thank the heavens you rolled a 19 + your stealth and everyone else rolled crap.)

Unfortunately after a half a day’s travel worth of walking your plan fell to shit when you sneezed.

“Vax, did you just sneeze out of your ass?” - Purple one

In a blink, Vox Machina took arms, ready to tear into the fool that’d decided to follow them. With your brilliant hiding spot beneath pointy’s, Vax’s cloak revealed you stood exposed with seven manners of weapons aimed at you.

You didn’t even flinch, instead waving, in the shy way children do. Your action managed to disengage all but one who’s weapon needed to be pushed down by the kind one.

“Hello darling.” - kind one Vex

After formal introductions were made, you felt comfortable making your plea.

There was an obvious split: Keyleth, Vex, Pike and Grog wanting to assist in your quest. Vex especially understood the hole that could be left by the absence of home. Conversely, Percy, Vax, and Scanlan wanted to return you to the village. Their line of work had no room for a child. Additionally, you would “cramp” their style.

Ultimately, Vax’s mind was changed after a private conversation with his sister. (You wished you had a sibling). Once Vax had been convinced, Percy begrudgingly followed only with the promise that if you caused them any trouble, you’d be turned over to the proper hands. Scanlan still swore your presence would “cramp” their style.

Now conditionally promised their protection, you decided to introduce yourself.

“They call me (y/n).” - You

Thus began your adventures with the group known as Vox Machina.

It wasn’t long before much of the group considered you a member of some status in their little group, though they’d never say.

Vex took it upon herself to teach you the basics of long ranged archery fighting. None of them allowed you to purposely engage in long ranged combat. Still, they armed you with a short bow and a slingshot.

When it was needed, you’d run healing potions to those who need them. Vax would, at some point, admit you were gifted with unnatural agility and speed. You affirm that you’d learned to be quick playing chase with your friend back home.

In terms of personality, you fell into a category with Percy. You tended to think highly of yourself and were quite intelligent. Scanlan Some would call you bossy, you preferred the term responsible. As Percy had conditioned, you couldn’t cause trouble, or they’d leave you behind. So you behaved doing your best to do as you were asked and staying out of trouble.

There was, of course, the naïve innocence that came with you. Everyone could only assume it was due to your time in captivity. There are times your inner child would make an appearance. You’d display your wonder in little jumps or squeals when something managed to excite you. Though you’d quickly regain a composure only comparable to that of a proper young lady.

If anyone it’s Vax, that brings out your childish habits, such a bad influence. He’s always poking at you, trying to convince you to assist him in his latest prank or con. Your cuteness makes you a great accomplice, when you do agree to assist. Partners in crime.

He lets you hide beneath the cloak when the sun is too bright, and snuggle in when the world is too much.

He reminds you of your friend back home.

Keyleth is eager to introduce you to the natural world and all it has to offer. But was disappointed to learn you have little interest in such things. When with your parents, you had heard once that druid magic was abominable. There’s only one magic that should be practiced.

Still, you’re very supportive of Keyleth. Always offering her a hand to hold when you notice her beginning to panic, politely listening to her ideas and rambles. You’re a good confidant.

You do enjoy the time spent with her, despite her antsy anxiety. There’s something about her that’s quieting, not disarming but quieting. Though you’d learned to look down on such tree huggers, you never forbid her from decorating your hair with flowers.

Grog and Pike, you quickly realized, are a friendship pair, the best of buddies, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t room for you in their pair.

Grog is basically an overgrown child himself. When you did unwind, was your giant playmate. Of the group, he was the only one to witness your hidden personality, the one even you yourself were not aware of, not the one you presented to please.

When the two of you would spar, he’d pretend your little punches were the stuff of legend, often letting you win just to see the lopsided smile on your face.

Furthermore, you both shared a love of meat raw or cooked. For one so small, you could certainly stomach your fair share. (He almost gave you ale once but was swiftly shut down by Percy).

As for Pike, she disappeared a lot, leaving much to be desired in terms of your friendship. Nonetheless, she had your back on multiple occasions, earning your admiration. Though you were small and young, she didn’t underestimate you, at times persuading the others to give your ideas a try.

While too much time around Pike would leave you with a headache and somewhat nauseous, presumably because of the long lectures about the Everlight and the righteous path (which bored you), you looked forward to her return whenever she was away.

Due to the risque nature of Scanlan Shorthault, most of Vox Machina did their best to prevent Scanlan from spending one-on-one time with you. They were concerned with what the bardic gnome might say, or teach you, while unsupervised.

Still, while you stayed awake on the dark nights, you couldn't help but listen to the soothing tunes he would strum while the others lay asleep.

Despite his rigidity, your second favorite member of the team was Percival. As mentioned, you two are relatively similar, both quiet, intelligent, and favoring dignified acts. You enjoy following him, attempting to replicate his mannerisms.

Initially, this had annoyed him, but you began to remind him of his younger siblings. Eventually he found himself falling into a certain pattern of behavior with you. “Don’t run too far (y/n),” “Don’t dawdle, (y/n), hold my hand.” Struggling to hide his panic anytime you were injured, checking on you while you slept.

He, of course, maintained his arms length attitude, knowing one day you’d leave the party and reunite with your proper family. Though he would never admit it, he had formed an attachment to you.

Knowing your love for cookies, Vex always has some on hand for when you’re looking down or do something worth rewarding.

Vex adores you. She’s made it her mission to return you to your rightful home. It led to some concern amongst her brother, who had to remind her on more than one occasion not to get too attached.

You care deeply for the strange group that’s taken you under your wing. But their care is conditional, temporary, you’re sure.

Now in Emon you spent much of your free time, usually the late nights, while the others got themselves plastered searching the signage for any inquiries of missing children and asking travelers in taverns about the river you remembered.

You hoped someone had some information that would spark your memory of home this time, as the group set out this evening. After all, this was the last tavern in Emon, hopefully things wouldn’t go sideways this evening.

But of course, your companions had to engage in a bar fight against an opposing band of adventures, all the while you sat peacefully at the bar enjoying some rough mutton. Their actions lead to the barkeep casting you all out to the curb and some questioning Vox’s abilities.

Fortunately, Scanlan discovered a help ad which directed you all to the doors of the palace. If only you’d known the direction, this act path would lead you toward. If only Vox Machina had known you better.