Grog Strongjaw - Tumblr Posts - Page 2

you know me, I love an angsty otp

Why did no one tell me that in C1 they "turn" into cows!?

It's the funniest shit ever, so far this is my favorite episode 😂😂😂

"You won't give me a goodnight kiss ?"

The very obvious pout on Grog's lips made you chuckle. The almost innocence in his eyes as he stared at you with his puppy-like eyes (if a puppy could break someone's jaw with one flick of a finger) that could melt your heart. But you knew that under his endearing gaze and the softness of his large calloused hands when he touched your skin hid a mischievous side that you were the only one to know.

"The hug wasn't enough ?" you chuckled.

"Of course not !" he crossed his arms.

You rolled your eyes playfully then laughed.

"I patted your head and hugged you, Grog."

"But you didn't kiss me," he huffed, his pout still.

You sighed then took his face between your hands. You took your sweet time, observing the lively spark in his eyes as he waited for your next action. You then leaned forward and smirked when Grog closed his eyes. Finally, you pressed a soft kiss on the top of his nose.

"There. Your goodnight kiss."

But Grog kept sulking. His eyebrows were deeply furrowed, his nose scrunched and his superior lip raised in a scowl.

"I wanted it on the lips."

Your laugh boomed in the room as Grog's pout creased his facial traits. After a few minutes, you calmed down and patted his shoulder.

"Okay, big guy," you smiled and he couldn't help but smile too. "But only if you ask nicely."

"Pretty pretty please could I have a kiss on my pretty pretty lips ?"

You snorted as he presented his expectant lips to you and leaned forward with hopeful eyes.

"Alright. Come here."

If anyone saw him, that person would not believe that big guy you were kissing was the same who could break anyone's jaw.

Sparring is something that you did so casually with Grog. There were no hostility between you two. It was all fun and banter. But you two respected the other, and because of that, you would never dare going easy on the other. It would be the biggest insult you'd throw at the other.

"Not bad, big guy !" you smiled as you dodged another attack.

It was a show combining strength and agility. Instinct and strategy. Grog and you. You were both doing your best for the other, showing your love and your respect through your movements and attacks.

"Thanks !" he grinned as he threw another attack that you also dodged. "Beer after that ?"

"Yep !"

Even though your sparring always ended with a draw, there were not one time when you weren't satisfied. And there were not one time you weren't getting scold by Pike because of your bruises. But you did not care. You both spent the quality time moment that you needed. Sharing blows and smiles, dodging and laughing... It was one of the many ways you had to show your affection. Of course, there were his bone crushing hugs, and you couldn't escape any. You didn't want to, anyway.

"Let's try the double axes, tomorrow," he murmured once Pike turned her back.

"Deal."

Just a lil confused Grog doodle cos I’ve been really enjoying TLOVM

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.

Being a child member of Vox Machina and… | Vox Machina x child reader Pt. 2

Summary | Vox Machina makes the brilliant decision of toting you along on a dragon hunt.

Genre | platonic, fluff, angst?

Warnings | child death, death, descriptions of blood and violence.

You stood before Sovereign Uriel Tal'Dorei II and the council in the capital palace. Well, more like, hid before them; behind Vax beneath the trail of his cloak was your favorite place to be when nervous.

There was a warmth you hadn’t felt in a long while that enveloped your heart when Scanlan included you in the song of Vox Machina. He’d described you as the adventure hand which you recognized as an ornate term for the squire. Nonetheless, the inclusion felt… nice.

The Sovereign and his advisers had a problem, one in your opinion they seemed all too hopeful to hand off. According to reports, there was something, a beast perhaps terrorizing the outer lands of Emon, wreaking havoc on the surrounding farmlands. They tasked Vox with identifying the threat and taking it down.

If you were being honest, traveling by airship was not your favorite, though this was admittedly the first time you’d traveled in such a manner. For a while, your tallest consistent form of travel had been being seated on Percy’s shoulders. (He tended to get “annoyed” when your small legs and short stamina couldn’t keep pace.)

Allura Vysoren, the famous arcanist, seemed to notice your ill-ease. Although her patience for your traveling companions seemed to be wearing increasingly thin, she approached you with a gentleness you could only compare to Vex’ahlia’s. She delicately explained the enchantment behind the flight, which made you feel somewhat better.

“You’re just as beautiful as he’d imagined you to be.” You whispered, eyes focused on the clouded horizon ahead.

When she looked down at you, she smiled. Her lips stretched with amusement in the way an adult’s do when they’ve heard something entertaining from a child. “Who?”

“My friend, back home.” You replied rather coolly.

“Tell me about them.”

And so you spent the better half of your trip telling Allura about the boy who’d been your best friend in your homeland. No one had thought to ask about you in quite some time, certainly none of the members of Vox who were rather absorbed in their own personal doings. It was lightning to talk about the fonder days, the ones you could remember.

Although many things didn’t add up and much was clouded, your faltering memory was simply credited to your young age.

When the time came to depart on the next leg of your journey, you politely excused yourself. Allura made sure to properly send you, specifically off, before swiftly parting. Scanlan, rightfully so worried about how you’d return to Emon after completing the task. You brightened a bit, offering that you could find horses. You liked horses, despite them being rather skittish around you.

Once you arrived in the town Allura had spoken of, you stayed at Percival’s side. Out of the way, but close by. It was odd to you how empty the village was. Perhaps many had already fled, choosing not to chance their deaths.

Two children spoke to Vax. You bit your tongue, watching, a splash of envy bubbling at the surface of your cool demeanor. They told him of the tree the beastly creature had knocked over while in what they assumed was flight.

Vox Machina made the long trek up the cliff side, all the while you sat on Trinket’s back. You had come to form quite the affection for the bear. What with the two of you being the most frequent benchwarmers.

If you were honest with yourself within the circle of Vox Machina, Trinket knew the most about you. (Like you) he’s an excellent listener and really good at keeping secrets.

What you find at the top of the cliff is nothing more than a baby goat. You suggested Vox keep it and murder it for food (you’d been unable to hunt down a proper meal the previous night.)

You, specifically, heard it before it landed. Vex, however, sensed it. A dragon landed, slaughtering the lamb where it stood. Caught off guard, Vox had moments to act before the giant blue beast took its first attack. Vax, who happened to be the closest to you, swiftly moved to cover behind a tree, dragging you with him.

After sternly telling you to stay out of sight, Vex followed the others into the fray. Doing as you were told was part of the deal. So you listened. Grog, the strongest of the lot, was the first to fall, physically.

You attempted to rush to his aid; your satchel carried multiple potions of healing. Attempted. You were struck by projectile debris from a shattered tree. Upon impact, it destroyed the vials in your bag, and a large chunk clashed with an arm breaking it. You could feel the bone snap out of place.

(Vex) “Y/n!”

Vex, who’d dodged the strike that’d demolished the tree, crawled to your side. You could hear her calling out to you then Keyleth but her voice was static as all your attention had been directed to keeping the tears from flowing. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. This isn’t worth crying over.

Keyleth finally came back to reality. With her Druid abilities, she summoned a mighty storm. Unfortunately, the lighting strike only seemed to make the dragon strong and furious.

It took aim at the top of the cliff triggering a rock fall over the group. Fortunately, Keyleth created a bush that cocooned you all, shielding the group from the rubble.

Once out, Pike went to work healing Grog, then approached you. You don’t know why, perhaps out of instinct, like a feral animal you hissed when she approached. Seeing her surprise, you stopped, blinking back to your right self, instantly apologizing for your behavior. (It’s been awhile since you were injured so badly).

Your arm still stung. Though Pike had managed to correct the bone, much of her energy had been spent on Grog. There was an ever growing purplish black mark on your arm where a bruise was beginning to form.

Vox decided this mission certainly was not your problem. They hadn’t known what they’d been in for. It was too big a task and the pay no longer seemed worth it. Vex pointed out it wasn’t worth risking further injuries. You didn’t notice she was looking at you as she said this.

As Vox began to head back, ignoring Pike’s pleas to continue on, Vex scooped you up. She held you at her waist, allowing you to curl against her chest. The rain felt nice on your swollen arm, but for the moment, all you wanted to do was make yourself small.

The group walked in silence until reaching the town they’d passed through mere hours ago. The poor souls. The village was in ruins burnt asunder, embers flickered, dimly illuminating what remained of the destroyed town.

Vax found the family Vox had allied themselves with earlier. Pike’s blessing hadn’t been enough. You saw the mother's arms protectively wrapped around her daughter and the father bloodied, their decaying bodies soaked through by rain.

Immediately, Vex shielded your eyes from the horrendous sight. You were no stranger to death. Nonetheless, she didn’t want you to see the burned body of a child a few years above you.

Your ears twitched. “Wait.” You whispered, moving her hand away. You slid out of Vex’s arms and approached a large portion of the collapsed roof. It wasn’t long before the noise became discernible to all.

Grog and Vax lifted the debris, then Vax removed the lone survivor from the under rubble. The boy. Pike rushed to aid, but she was still weak from assisting Grog and yourself. The boy’s body fell limp.

Tears pricked at your eyes. His lifeless body triggering something in you. There was a memory attached to your sadness, unfortunately it was clouded. You couldn’t quite recall it.

Following the sadness came an anger, a burning ferocious sort. Someone needed to pay. Vox was decided. They were going to kill a blue dragon. Your own need for revenge was pointed at some else, though once again you couldn’t recall who. Hopefully, a dragon would be enough to placate you.

When Vox returned to the palace, you arrived in time for Scanlan to interrupt Sir Gregory. Apparently, the council had already been notified of the threat. With Vox’s current failure, the sovereign decided to ready the militia.

Once outside, Vex divided Vox into teams; Pike and Vax would head Gilmore’s learning how to defeat a blue dragon; Scanlan and Grog search for Sir Gregory; Percy and Keyleth as well.

You had wanted to go with Vax, nevertheless Vex tugged you away with her and Trinket. Your arm had been properly healed in the return to Emon. You returned to a burdenless manner. Still, Vex kept you close.

You spent the midday scouring Emon, riding on the back of Trinket. Vex went around asking villagers about their thoughts on the council and Sir Gregory’s role in the community. Every now and then, she’d hand you another cookie to keep you from getting bored. Still no taste, but they remained your favorite treat.

After hours of poking around, everyone regrouped in front of a large decadent manner, at the request of Scanlan. Unluckily, the door was locked. Scanlan attempted to bardically unlock it, and Keyleth tried to melt it. Fuckin’ doors. Ultimately, it was, of course, Vax who managed to open it.

The interior of the home was gorgeous, opulent, with accents of red and gold everywhere. Of course, of course, you all had to wind up in the dark cellar. Not that you minded the lack of light. It’s just that cellars are spooky.

Gregory was discovered rifling through the shelves, raiding the general’s tomes. Confronting him proved surprising. As they plead their case, a knife was pushed through their chest, killing them dead. His body collapsed to the floor, revealing general Krieg behind him.

Crippling Vex, he revealed himself to be the betrayer in league with the blue dragon. Vax took aim, only to miss allowing Krieg to flee further into his chamber. Vox followed, keeping you at the back of the pack. The next room appeared to be nothing more than a magical office space.

Percy ordered Vox fan out and search for a fulcrum, save for you and Grog, who he told not to touch anything. He spoke with a gentler tone when looking at you. Grog was entranced by a scanty painting. Keyleth was disgusted by his behavior through the book at him, literally. Interestingly, it bounced off the giant and went through the painting.

On the other side of the painting was a mass of treasure. At first, Vox had naturally fallen into a protective circle formation with you at the center. This being said, the formation was broken as soon as they saw the crush of gold. It was a horde.

Krieg approached from a plague above, revealing himself to not just be in league with the blue dragon. But the blue dragon himself.

You did your best to dodge lightning and debris until Vax picked you up. You clung to him like a baby koala. Regrouping amongst the rubble, Vex realized that working as a proper team wouldn’t work. Everyone needed to play to their strengths and mess shit up.

You worked along Vex shooting arrows from your child sized bow. You didn’t get the chance to use it often, unfortunately multiple shots missed. Still, when you did hit, Vex was quick to congratulate you.

Despite it all, Vox Machina proved victorious, slaying the blue dragon. Dismally you were forced to flee quickly, leaving behind the bounty of treasure, as the cave top collapsed. Scanlan did try.

Vox returned to the council victorious. As reward, they were named protectors of the realm and Hobart members of the council. You weren’t sure if such a gift was extended to you. Furthermore, instead of gold, Uriel awarded them a keep. As long as they protected Emon, they would have a home here.

There was also mention of a banquet, which children were “regrettably” not allowed to attend.

Once Vox had settled in for the evening, you snuck out from the keep. You always had been more of a night owl. You passed Trinket, assuring him you’d be back soon as you always did. He’s such a good secret keeper.

Traveling by shadow, hopping rooftops you traveled until you found a pen quite a way from the keep.

You cornered a lone sheep, your canines extending until they were piercing white fangs as you approached.

(As I mentioned before, you like the essence of cookies fine, such a shame they aren’t enough to satisfy your appetite.)

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?”

Ignoring how this whole complaint ignores like basic storytelling, it seems like it should be common sense on why VM can’t just solve this. Scanlan and Pike are probably off raising their kids, Grog is probably living with them(and is not exactly suited for something like this) Keyleth is off being Voice of the Tempest, Percy is ruling Whitestone, and Vax is fucking dead.

As for Vex, just because she’s on the council and controls finance does not mean she would or even could have solved or prevented this. There are a lot of other responsibilities that would come with her position.

Some people are honestly just looking for a reason to hate on Aabria.

One criticism I've seen of how Aabria is running "Exandria Unlimited" that I want to unpack and push back against (because I think it speaks to a wider problem Critical Role is going to grapple with the more they tell different stories in a shared universe) is this one: "The way she is narrating Emon is disrespectful toward/ruining Vox Machina (or specifically Vex as part of the council) because if it was true to their characters they'd step in and solve it and/or never have allowed corruption or crime or problems like this to get this bad in the first place." And I'm not sure to what extent people realize that what they're actually saying is: "this is set in Emon, why isn't this Vox Machina's story?"

(As a quick aside, the higher level the Mighty Nein got, the more I started to see this idea hovering over that campaign as well. Any problem the M9 encountered that seemed even mildly "big" on a world-level would be met with a certain amount of "why wouldn't Vox Machina just step in and solve this? They're famous and well-known level 20 adventurers." I would be willing to bet anticipation of that kind of question was at least part of why Matt staged the final battle of the Mighty Nein campaign on another plane of existence, and it certainly played into his "minimal crossover between campaigns" rule.)

What's happening is an idea that because other characters have previously existed in the world and now hold positions of power/fame, it would be "disrespectful" of their journeys to have any future conflict or corruption in the narrative for new characters to grapple with. But that is stifling on a storytelling level. Aabria's version of Emon is cool, and layered, and interesting, and engaging with complex real-world dynamics in a fantasy setting. Why should she be prevented from telling that story just because "Vex wouldn't have let that happen"?

For one thing, the Vox Machina characters aren't saints. It's frankly weird to hold onto them as sacred cows. They're not going to solve all problems or always do everything perfectly. That to me seems more a misunderstanding of those characters than allowing the world to grow beyond them does.

But on a larger level this gets back to the point about shared universes that I wanted to get into: with shared universes like this, at a certain point part of audience buy-in has to be that, just because it's existing in the same universe, doesn't mean it's a story about all of the characters in that universe. Big comic book properties have this as a sort of understood rule. A Jessica Jones story might have a really powerful and frightening villain, and that villain is going to be defeated by her because it is a Jessica Jones story. It's possible to ask "Why wouldn't Spider-Man step in if this were happening in New York?" or "If this is so bad where are the Avengers?" - but the conceit of the medium means that's not a good question, because the simple answer is it's not their story. And it's also not a reflection on them that they somehow didn't prevent the problem in the first place, in spite of existing in the same world.

Idk how I want to end this, other than that it's something I've been wary of seeing misunderstood about a shared Exandrian universe since at least the mid-Mighty Nein campaign. References to the shared universe itself and potentially the other characters are bound to happen! But to expect it to center or be behold to the old characters is a refusal to accept the conceit of the new story. Allowing for different stories to exist and have their own themes and ideas is part of how a shared universe diversifies, on every level.

Part One of Vox Machina Playlists

I did it again and did another series of playlists for a fandom. And the fandom of my choosing was Vox Machina after I finished the Amazon series and watch a couple streams. I must add is I play DND and basically made a copy of Vax almost down to the tee.

Part Two of Vox Machina Playlists

Unfortunately I couldn't fit all of the playlists I have available in one post so here is part Two of the playlists.

Achilles Come Down

Chapter One: Journey to the Past

~Present Time~

Percy looked over the room at the darkness that covered the Ziggurat but he could spot where he stood when Orthax took over him. When he started to feel the need to enact his revenge for his family on the Briarwoods and finish his list of killing who caused his family deaths and his pain. It was just another wrong in his list of fuck ups he has done in his life starting with believing he could've grown up to be inventor and alchemist while being a noble who would've found love with someone else. But that one day of the family dinner with the Briarwoods ended that dream of growing up with his family and meeting all of his nieces and nephews.

He thought of his actions of becoming a heartless, and emotionless killer for revenge. The way he killed the carriage driver with no forgiveness or mercy as he was just another person who was tortured and controlled by the Briarwoods. He had no mercy for the people he killed just to get close to Ripley and the Briarwoods just to be captured but was found by Vox Machina. His friends weren't just friends but his family didn't give up on him when he was controlled by Orthax and was accepting of coming to Whitestone to stop the Briarwoods and bring justice to his family. He thought Vax and how he was so accepting of his faults and past to a point he loved him and married him not just once but twice after their first wedding was basically an elopement considered by nobility which explains the second wedding for publicity and to prove the marriage to the public. He feels like he failed Vax. He shouldn't be in love with him. He is a mess, a failure, a murderer, a mortal, and most of all a disappointment to Vox Machina.

He started looking at his gun in his hand loaded and ready to fire any moment. His gun that he created with help by Orthax although unknown to him until it was told to him. This weapon should’ve been never created as it is dangerous and should be erased with him. But it can’t as Ripley started spreading them all over the world and gave the blueprints to other inventors to make. These weapons are creating death, fear, and grief to everyone that is around them and being used against by the wrong people. He should’ve kept the gun hidden away from Ripley to never see it and get interested in it. He put the gun to his head ready to pull the trigger on himself to end it all but he stops as he thinks of the grief and pain he will bring to his family. Or at least the people who shouldn’t have saved him from that jail cell so long ago.

“Do it Percival you know you want to end it here away from your friends. If they really cared for you they would’ve been here by now to stop you.” The old familiar voice of Orthax in his head said. He looked up in fear to see the same smoke figure of Orthax in front of him. He shouldn’t be here, his contract is broken, he has no way of being here. So why is he here now in front of him saying to kill himself and he started feeling the possession that Orthax had on him. At the moment as Orthax appeared Vax with the rest of Vox Machina appeared running in ready to stop him from doing.

“Percy stop this isn’t you please don’t kill yourself!” Vax yelled not seeing Orthax in front of Percy. Percy turned to look at him with tears and fear in them he thought he wouldn’t be found before he did it. He didn’t want them to see him at his lowest point and as he went to put down the gun to run to them. Orthax forces him to hold it there and move a finger on the trigger. Percy knows he is unable to fight him so he turns to Vax and looks him in the eyes and then back to Orthax to give a hint that he isn’t in control at the moment. Vax used his death ward armor to run up the steps of the Ziggurat to get to Percy. Vax looks at Percy’s eyes and realizes he is afraid and that he is trying to tell him something.

“Percy put down the gun and away from the ledge please Freddy for me.” Vax said, reaching up to Percy’s location. Orthax made Percy walk nearer to the edge ready to have Percy throw himself off the edge to plummet down to his death. Vax stops and puts his hands up in surrender . At this point he could see the form of Orthax over Percy’s shoulder and that in one of Percy’s eyes is black with an orange iris.

“Freddy, you need to fight him, you won against him before you can do it again. Please come away from the edge and put down the gun.” Vax said hoping to get Percy’s hope back in him to fight Orthax but he knows Percy’s mental and physical state is not in top shape after not eating, drinking and sleeping for many days. He will need Pike to help him fight Orthax off for control.

“I can’t put it down Vax I wish I can but I won’t put you through this pain of loving me. I am just a broken, heartless, a murderer, a disappointment and worse of all a human. How can you love me when I will die first out of everyone here including you? I won't be able to see you for years and I probably won’t be in Elysium. I will probably be put down in Nine Hells for my crimes against humanity. I am not a hero or good soul. I don't deserve or earned my right to go to Elysium that is a place for you, and Vox Machina. I am just someone who slows everyone else down, who is tainted by a demon forever. I am not the right man for you to love if anyone you should’ve loved is Gilmore. He fits you more than I do. I am not your perfect soulmate or even a perfect husband. I have not shown a drop of love to you in months. How can you still love me when I have almost killed you so many times simply by my presence nearby. I could’ve killed you that day in the hallway in the jail when we were rescuing Archie. I’m sorry I am very sorry for putting you through this pain but I do not regret it.” Percy says as he pulls the trigger and falls down to the steps tumbling down them breaking many bones and his glasses on the stone. “Percy No!” Vax yells as he rushes to catch him but fails and falls on the stone watching his body fall and tumble.

So I just found out while looking at the cast list that Laura and Travis's kid Ronin voiced the little boy in Episode Two, so freaking cute oh my gods.

Uh oh Pike is on Edge.

i think a lot about what it must be like to meet Grog, who is very big and very strong and very scary, and then to find out that he has a sister, and instead of being an equally big strong scary goliath, she’s fucking two feet tall, a literal priest, almost every person she’s ever met is a at least a little in love with her, and coincidentally is the only person in existence who Grog will listen to consistently, to the point where she can shut him the fuck up with a single look