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?”
