Scrybeswap
I have a lot of scatterbrained design notes for each of them but generally I wanted them to look similar to their original designs but with different themes. I also imagine that they have the same inscribing tools as their original counterparts but just use them differently (i.e. Magnificus paints animals, Leshy takes pictures of people as they're dying/about to die, I'm not sure what the magic equivalent for P03 would be besides maybe a spellbook that copies the essence of things, and Grimora's quill would either "write" code or write directly onto the hardware of robots).
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Okay so let me get this straight:
Henry Cavil leaves the Witcher. After a DISASTROUS season 2, and an…. Okay season 3, Fans are calling for the end of the show. It gets renewed anyway.
Shadow and Bone gets an Emmy nomination. Fans are DESPERATELY clawing for season 3. Netflix cancels it.
… nope I don’t get it.
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Prompt 38
Jaskier has kept a secret for years.
The ring with dandelions carved into it that he wears every second of every day is the only thing keeping him from turning into ash.
He sleeps with a lovely woman one night, desperately trying to move on from Geralt (it doesn't work, he is still very much in love with his best friend) only to awake in the morning and find-
FUCK
She stole his ring!
That conniving little-! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! What does he do!? He races to the mirror and it confirms his worst fear. The glamour the ring gives him is gone. He can't see his reflection. He reaches a hand up to his mouth and feels his fangs. No- Nonono!
Then his worst fucking nightmare ON TOP of his worst nightmare happens. He hears the stomping footsteps of a witcher approaching their room.
Godsdamn it all.
He hears the doorknob jiggle and.. Alright, he'll be the first to admit it, he panics.
"DON'T COME IN, GERALT"
The doorknob jiggling pauses.
"Jaskier? Are you alright?"
"Y- YES! Perfectly peachy! Don't come in!"
Jaskier rushes around the room, pacing in panicked circles like a caged beast. He was a caged beast. He reaches to close the curtains of the only window in the room and like an idiot, he fumbles in place and ends up with his hand in the direct sunlight. He shrieks in pain and holds his hand to his chest.
Geralt, scenting agony and hearing Jaskier yell, barges in without another moment of thought. Only to see Jaskier scrambling away from him in fear. In all his years of knowing Jaskier, he has NEVER been afraid of him. It physically pains Geralt to see it now. He doesn't understand why he wasn't allowed in. There's no lover of Jaskier's hiding in a corner embarrassed at being caught, Jaskier isn't indecent or anything, so why-?
Then he looks at Jaskier, truly looks at him, and sees his blue eyes are glowing, and his mouth - Parted open as he pants - reveals fangs. Geralt's eyes dart to Jaskier's neck and it's confirmed. The worst part of it all, is the way Jaskier's eyes keep glancing between the door out of the room, and Geralt's silver sword.
Geralt is infuriated. Not only did the woman Jaskier take to bed last night turn Jaskier into a vampire, but she also made Jaskier fear Geralt because of it.
When Geralt says he isn't going to harm (let alone KILL like Jaskier had feared) Jaskier for the twentieth time, Jaskier finally believes him, and begs him to help him track the woman down.
Geralt is intent on killing the vampire that ruined poor young human Jaskier's life.
Jaskier is intent on getting his human-glamour, sunlight-immunity-enchantment ring back from this human he slept with, so he can go back to pretending he's human, like he has been doing for the past hundred or so years.
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Never fails to tickle me that Geralt is just. The most jealous man ever in the books. He's jealous of Dandelion's dalliances in Little Sacrifice, he's petty and jealous and mopey when Dandelion is staying with Anarietta, he's even worse about Dandelion's quickly formed friendship with Zoltan and the dwarves, he's like one jealousy away from outright snarling and dragging Dandy off to aggressively cuddle him or something
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[MASTERPOST] I managed to do at least a little something! Milek learned to write when he was still a little wee.
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When I say "my lil dude", I always mean a grown-ass fictional man who can most certainly break every bone in my body without breaking a sweat
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