I Want To Make More Headcanons For Eskel Because Uhh Hes My Favourite Out Of The Bunch. Like, All The

I want to make more headcanons for Eskel because uhh he’s my favourite out of the bunch. Like, all the other characters are amazing, but look at Eskel, such a sweet handsome man.

Anyways, I come and bring headcanons that I’ve thought about for him, and the first I wanna discuss is that he knows piano. Do I know if pianos exist in the Witcher universe? No. Does that stop me? Of course not. Piano is difficult at first to learn but I think since he had a few years on his plate, might as well make it interesting. I’d like to think that he thinks Piano is a very nice sound, and is attracted to when it’s being played. No one thinks such a roughed up looking Witcher would plop down and become Beethoven yet here we are. I’d also like to think that after Jaskier finds this out, he writes music for Eskel, and shows him the music. Maybe with little sight reading, Eskel can play the piece within just a few hours of having the sheet music, and it totally makes Jaskier cry, and perhaps they play together as lute and piano.

As someone who doesn’t like the rain (ahem me), I think he’s one of the few that really like it, and I mean really likes it. A storm is rolling in and Geralt and Jaskier happen to be in the same village Eskel is in, they get a room all together for the night, and while sleeping, Jaskier wakes up from nothing and notices it’s raining. From one human to another, he doesn’t like it, the rain gives him a cold, but when he realizes Eskel isn’t in the room and indeed outside just sitting in the rain, he isn’t much bothered by it and wraps a blanket tight around himself. He’ll join Eskel, as long as there’s something to stand under so he doesn’t get rained on, but from what he’s gathered, when it rains Eskel sits and soaks. Long after their little nights sitting in the rain, Eskel tells Jaskier the rain washes out the bad in his head, drenching the words and thoughts permanently carved into him. He feels at peace, and Jaskier respects that.

Last, but not least, I think his favourite season is autumn. Like he gets this kind of childish joy when he knows autumn is coming. He doesn’t know why, but he loves it. He loved the leafs changing colours, the cool breezes on rather sunny days, the closer autumn is the more he gets excited and meets up with another Witcher. Maybe he says it’s because of the crunching leafs under him when he walks, or maybe he says it’s because it’s closer to winter and closer to when he can go to his home in the mountains and spend time with his not-so-family family, or maybe it’s Maybelline, that’s up for you to decide.

If anyone’s got anymore ideas, feel free to add. I love this man, he deserves nice things.

Jaskier: *texting Geralt a pic of a cute baby pig* baaaaaabe... can we get a pig? 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Geralt: We already have you babe 🥺

Geralt: You want two? 🥺

Jaskier:..... That's it, I am filing for a divorce.

Geralt: Do you want a brother?

CUZ I SAW A DUDE ON THE STREET WEARING A YELLOW STRIPPED SHIRT AND THIS CAME TO MY MIND SO. MODERN!AU CLOTHE DESIGN. (I drew this rlly fast)

The Shape of Love Pt.1/6

The first time Jaskier had shifted he’d been just a baby. He didn’t remember it but his nurse had regaled him with the story many times. It was one of his favourites. Viscount and Lady Lettenhove had never discovered where little baby Julian’s magic had come from. All his parents knew was that one morning they’d went to visit their darling little baby and found a small russet wolf pup with startling cornflower blue eyes where there should have been a human child.

Or a shifter!Jaskier Geraskier AU - Rated T, check my pinned masterlist/ao3 for other parts (once they’re posted) and my other witcher fics!

The first time Jaskier had shifted he’d been just a baby. He didn’t remember it but his nurse, Lila, had regaled him with the story many times. It was one of his favourites. Viscount and Lady Lettenhove had never discovered where little baby Julian’s magic had come from, the rumours amongst the staff was that Lady Lettenhove had had an affair but the Viscount hanged anyone who dared mention those rumours in his presence. All his parents knew was that one morning they’d went to visit their darling little baby and found a small russet wolf pup with startling cornflower blue eyes where there should have been a human child.

At first they’d thought little Julian had been cursed with Lycanthropy but when Lila, had scooped up the tiny wolf cub in her arms he had shifted from a wolf cub to a small ginger kitten. It had taken days and a plethora of different animals before Julian to shifted back into a human, throwing Lettenhove Castle into pandemonium.

Jaskier had been poked and prodded by mages, healers and druids throughout his childhood but not one of them could explain his abilities. The nearest anyone had got was a sorceress from Aretuza, with long raven hair and violet eyes, eyes that still haunted Jaskier to this day. She’d suggested that his shifting magic must have been locked away in his genetic code, passed down through generations but never manifesting until he’d been born.

His parents’ obvious disdain in regards to his abilities and delight in treating him as a scientific experiment had been the driving factor in Jaskier’s escape at the age of sixteen. Lila had helped him escape the dimeritium prison that was his bedroom and he’d shifted into a hummingbird the moment his magic had regained enough strength, flying out of an open window and into the world before his parents could realise what had happened.

He’d never looked back. Sometimes he wondered what had happened to Lila but he just couldn’t risk returning to the castle. He couldn’t go back to that prison.

He felt an itch settle into his bones as he stared up at the ceiling of his room in the tavern. He rolled over with a sigh. It had been too long since he’d shifted, it was difficult to shift whilst he was on the road, especially now he actually had a handful of possessions to his name, most importantly his lute. Humans tended to freak out if they saw a wolf walking down the road carrying a lute and a satchel on his back. If he wanted to shift then he had to find a suitable hiding spot for his belongings, especially if he wanted to fly.

He stripped off his clothes and made sure his door was locked before he opened the window just wide enough for a bee to slip through. He took a deep breath before letting his magic loose. It was a strange feeling when he shifted, to him it almost felt no different to taking off a coat and sinking into a warm bath. Lila had always left the room when he’d shifted from his human form, apparently his skin almost melted away into fur or feathers or scales and there was a sickening crack of his bones adjusting but it never hurt. The magic made sure of that, but the sight was too much for the gentle-hearted nurse.

He blinked as his vision adjusted, the red tones of the brown wooden beams shifted away and he buzzed happily as he suddenly surrounded by a whole new spectrum of light. He flitted through the gap in the window and took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the flowers that were in bloom in the surrounding fields. He shifted to a raven before his instincts drew him to the sweet nectar of the flowers. The world shifted again, becoming sharper and he could see further into the distance.

He cawed loudly and danced around in the sky, enjoying the feel of the wind through his feathers. Oh the ballads he could write about this feeling. There was nothing else like it. He’d tried a few times to write about the different colours and feelings he had experienced through the animal kingdom but no human could truly appreciate the genius.

He flew around the town for hours until the vibrant hues of red and purple began to dust the horizon as dusk fell. That was when he saw the witcher riding into town on a beautiful bay mare, with a head of a cockatrice hung to the saddle leaving a trail of blood on the path. The witcher had hair brighter than the light of the full moon and eyes like liquid gold. 

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Would the wolf Witchers have different areas they get sensory overloads? Like, does that make sense? Their senses are enhance to be more powerful so certain things would be more intense for the others, let me explain how I’m thinking this.

I want to start with Geralt, because he’s the first I can think of. Honestly? I think his sense of smell is incredibly strong. Even though he has extra mutations and stuff and it is probably different, I think his sense of smell is overpowering even for him. It could be used for hunting and tracking down missing pets or people, but I also think he just smells so much when stepping into a village or town, and it’s kind of too much? First meeting Jaskier, I think he recoiled from him because it was just so intense and made his nose burn, but after few words and many reactions, I think Jaskier settles down the fragrance and goes for something that is so settle to him it’s not even there but Geralt kinda really enjoys it? Sure he still doesn’t like to enter town most of the time because of the disgusting smells, but maybe Jaskier gives him a small cloth with the nice smell.

I don’t think much on Lambert just because I kinda don’t relate to his humour or personality but I’m learning to open up about him, and I like the headcanon people have of him cooking, and being excellent at it. I think his sensitive sense is taste. A lot of things just don’t sit with him, it tastes disgusting. Watching mothers lick a cloth to wipe dirt from their child’s face makes him feel creepy’s and crawly’s, he hates it. Maybe he doesn’t eat much of other peoples cooking because of it, but when he makes it, he knows what to do with it and it doesn’t effect him as bad. Maybe it’s more of a texture thing the longer I think of it. I’d also like to think that he’s the only one who cooks in Kaer Morhen because the other wolfs understand it, and his cooking is the best.

I thought hard and long on Eskel but I think I wanna go with hearing. I wouldn’t say it’s worse or better than the other Witchers, it’s just the first to really really get to him. Towns and villages are hard for him at times because the blacksmith working can be too much, town folk talking can be too much, farm animals and so on. Maybe around Kaer Morhen, if a loud creature is out around the property of the Keep, he’ll hunch his shoulders up and cover his ears, but outside the Keep I think maybe he has some wax plugs he puts in. If those don’t work well, which I’m thinking they don’t most of the time, he probably sits with his hands overs his ears for a while, gather himself. I think maybe Geralt, Jaskier and Vesemir give him books from time to time just to settle in silence, focus on the words and fuzz everything out.

Finally, I wanna get to Vesemir himself. Not gonna lie, touch. I don’t think this man likes any kind of touch he doesn’t allow or hasn’t done it first. As in like, if he doesn’t hold his hand out for a handshake, don’t grab his hand for him and shake it. He hates it. Don’t pat him on the shoulder, don’t touch his elbow, no hugs unless he goes for it first. I think the pups know this, but when he firsts meets Jaskier, I think he would get stressed out completely cause this man is all talk and touch. With the pups instructions not to, Jaskier wouldn’t do it anymore of course, but Vesemir was very put off with Jaskier at first. I’d also like to bring up the idea that maybe Vesemir just always wears gloves, could be his armour gauntlets or just a tight pair of leather gloves, makes him feel like he’s not touching anything, only the glove is. As a person who is sensitive to touching most times, I get the stress of it and I think the gloves would be, not only interesting, but a weight lifting. You aren’t touching it, the glove is.

alright so no one asked for his but I can’t stop thinking about it. 

Jaskier is not talented at fighting in anyway shape or from. He’s fit enough to run away pretty quickly and is taller than most people, but honestly he just doesn’t having any knowledge of how to fight. He has a dagger but it’s more for looks that anything else. 

Most people assume that after years of traveling through increasingly dangerous situations with Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier would have picked up something, sword fighting, pakour, hand to hand or even would be strong enough to throw a good punch but honestly he’s really useless at that kind of thing. 

When Geralt is around, the witcher can normally take care of any enemies they have so Jaskier doesn’t bother and when Geralt isn’t around Jaskier has enough charisma and charm to get himself out of the situation. He’s a bard by trade. He doesn’t like to resort to fighting. 

Then he begins to hear whispers from people about The White Wolf’s bard. There are rumours that he is viscious when crossed, that he can hold his own in a fight. The rumors are helpful, Jaskier is accosted quite a bit less and when people see him late in the night, they leave him alone but it begins to push at Jaskier in an unpleasant way. Because, in the end, these are just rumors, falsehoods. He can’t actually fight, he can’t actually go feral or take out a dozen bandits in the night. 

He’s not useful to Geralt and once he realizes this Jaskier begins to a feel more than a bit self-conscious. The swords in the windows of local blacksmiths begin to look more appealing and the measly dagger he carries to defend himself begins to looks more pathetic. How could be matched up to Geralt if he’s really as useless as all that?

His mood must be obvious because Geralt begins to give him odd looks that Jaskier understands to mean ‘we really should talk but I’m too much of a coward to say anything’. Jaskier is having trouble composing his music and he feels entirely uninspired. 

One night, when they have just left a town and are headed for a contract on a nekker nest Jaskier feels brave enough to ask Geralt. 

“Geralt, uh, quick question, no pressure, no commitment here. But, well, I know that you have those big scary swords of yours and well, I was wondering if you think you could teach me how to use them.”

From over the fire, Geralt gives Jaskier the strangest look.

“Why do you want to learn to use swords? There’s not much room to carry them alongside a lute.”

Jaskier tries to edge around the questions, “I just think…it could be fun.”

Geralt raises an eyebrow at Jaskier, “Fun? You once said that watching me practice swordsmanship must be a special type of torture desgined by Witchers for use against bards.”

“Yes, well, perhaps I was mistaken.”

“Jaskier you have never admitted to being wrong a day in your godforsaken life, what is this about?”

He sighed, he might as well admit it. It could be the only that convinces Geralt.

“I’ve been hearing these rumors about my apparently hidden talent at weapons, but the truth is Geralt I can hardly throw a punch and honestly I terrified that…”

He stopped he couldn’t say it. Then he looked at Geralt who was waiting patiently, no judgement in his eyes and it gave him the strength to continue. 

“I’m terrified that I am absolutely useless to you as a traveling companion.”

For a moment, Geralt was silent and Jaskier considered bolting then and there but Geralt began speaking in a measure voice. 

“Jaskier, by this point in time I truly hope you aren’t measuring your worth on physical prowess alone.”

He looked up, what was Geralt saying? The Witcher must have noticed his questioning look because he continued talking.

“You are easily one of the most talent bards on the Continent, you manage to get people in your pocket within minutes of meeting you and you have the have the terrifying talent of making people forget why they ever hated you in the first place. Jaskier, you don’t need to be vicious and ruthless to be interesting, you don’t need to be strong to be brave, and you don’t have to be useful to be my friend and the most worthy travel companion I have ever had.”

Jaskier blinked. Those weren’t tears forming in the corners of his eyes, nope, the smoke from the fire had just irritated them. He tried to open his mouth to speak but the words came out rough. 

“Than-thank you Geralt.”

He grabbed his lute from behind his back and pulled it in front of him. His desire to amass an increasingly immense stockpile of weapons was diminishing and the want to compose his next song was growing. He began to strum a simple pattern on the strings. 

Geralt was right. He didn’t have to be the most powerful person in the room. Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t need to be useful to be loved.