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.

Witcher Eskel of the Wolf School 

getting primed up to talk shit about Yen to Geralt again.

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.

May I request a prompt from the All genres in one post? Like number 7 and number 18?

7. “Can we get a dog?”

18. “How strangely nonchalant for someone who almost just died a minute ago.” 

NONNIE IM EXHILARATED THAT YOU CHOSE TO PAIR THESE TWO TOGETHER I HAD FUN.

tags: fluff !!!!, family fluff

——

“Can we get a dog?” Geralt hums from where he’s working on the sofa, Ciri looking up at him with Roach in her hands.

“Why? Is Roach not cutting it anymore?” She gasps, holding the stuffed horse protectively to her chest.

“Don’t listen to him Roach, I could never get bored of you.” Jaskier nods solemnly from the other side of the couch, hiding his smile behind his notebook with the pretense of adding the final touches to his song. In reality, he’s waiting for The Cue.

“Good advice, Geralt has no idea what he’s talking about, Roach, pay him no mind,” he says and Jaskier grins as Ciri leans into her stuffie, ear pressed against its mouth.

“Roach says you’re right, daddy Jas, she also says that daddy Ger is a meanie!” Geralt frowns before looking down at her.

“We can’t get a dog.”

Ciri sets her little fists on her hips and Jaskier watches on in great interest as their daughter parts her lips.

“Actually daddy, we can. Daddy Jas told me you needed some con— coninc—”

“Convincing,” Jaskier whispers, ignoring the way Geralt glances at him as if he’d stolen the last bit of chocolate ice cream.

“Convincing!” Ciri yells, her tone victorious. “So we’re going to convince you,” she finishes with a solid nod. And there it is, The Cue.

Jaskier quickly jogs to their room, hiding snickers as he grabs two pillows; he hears Geralt ask Ciri just how they’re going to do that— oh and is his husband in for a surprise.

“Weapons at the ready, Ciri?” She carefully sets Roach on the Tv stand before grabbing one of the pillows, Geralt looking on in mild amusement.

“Ready, Jas!” Their daughter looks utterly ridiculous, one foot forward and the another behind her, her face so focused as he takes up the same position.

“Pillows raised!! And... chaaaarrrggggeeee!” Geralt’s eyes widen as they run the short distance to him, bringing pillows down on him as he curls smaller, laughing as Ciri grunts and trash-talks— you’re going down! Down like Valdo Marx in a singing competition against Daddy Jas!

Fuck, does Jaskier love them both so much. 

“Fine,” Geralt grumbles, a properly put on frown gracing his face though he has tears from hiding his laughs. “Fine!”

“Yield!” Ciri screeches, smacking him again, and Jaskier is so proud of her.

“I yield! I yield, leave me be—” Ciri and Jaskier back away, panting and sweaty as they look on at Geralt’s form still curled up, shaking with quiet laughter.

“You’re a bad influence on her,” he grumbles, and Jaskier raises his pillow in a threat.

“How strangely nonchalant for someone who almost just died a minute ago, Geralt.” Geralt bursts out laughing, shaking and teeth bared as he closes his eyes. He’s so beautiful that it makes Jaskier’s throat dry.

“So?” Ciri asks, her pillow raised to smack her dad again, eyebrow raised in challenge. “Can we get a dog?” 

Geralt groans. “Fine, we can get a dog.” 

Jaskier’s quite sure the neighbors hear Ciri’s squeal before she hides her face in his stomach. Geralt grins and rolls his eyes in retaliation to his wink.

They spend the rest of the evening looking for names.

——

rb if you liked it so other people can read it too!! 

Send me a prompt x

I’m kind of obsessed with the idea that Jaskier makes his own paper and makes his own books from scratch. You know the really aesthetic looking tiktoks or how to tutorials on making a book? Yeah, that’s Jaskier.

Like I can see him having a small bucket that’s long enough filled with river water and paper he’s cut up and let soak, and running a screen through and letting the pages dry over night by their camp fire.

Or him sewing the pages together and creating the spine and covers. I’m not too educated on the process, so I’m sorry if I get everything wrong or if I don’t add to much detail onto the idea, but I’d like to hear everyone else’s ideas to this.

Another is, I think Geralt would absolutely love watching Jaskier do all this. Very relaxing.

Jaskier shows Lambert it’s okay to be passionate about something…

An easel sat on the shores of the lake near Kaer Morhen. Jaskier spotted it for the first time while on a romantic boat cruise with Geralt; the Witcher did all the rowing and Jaskier lounged back opposite with his lute across his lap, but that was beside the point. The easel sat at the very bottom of a steep path, with a small chest at its side, which probably contained the mystery artist’s equipment.

Jaskier made a mental note to investigate further.

When the snows cleared towards the end of the season, the beautiful, mist-wreathed views of the Blue Mountains from Geralt’s bedroom window reminded Jaskier of a painting, which in turn reminded him of his mystery artist. One afternoon, he set off on foot. When he reached the top of the path, he looked down the slope and saw someone he really didn’t expect to.

It was Lambert.

The youngest wolf of Kaer Morhen stood with a palette in one hand and brush in the other. A leather case sat unfolded on top of the chest containing more tools of his trade; scalpels, brushes and other miscellaneous items. He was currently measuring up a perspective of something in the distance.

“Lambert!” Jaskier stood downwind, so called out to let the Witcher know of his presence. He really didn’t expect Lambert to swirl ‘round, wide-eyed, and then immediately throw his tools in the lake. Not only that, but his left hand twisted into the Sign for Igni and he set his entire piece of art on fire. The bard sprinted down the path—no mean feat, he wasn’t exactly a spiritely youth anymore—and kicked the easel into the lake.

Too late. The painting was ruined. Jaskier pulled the canvas out of the wet mud, and looked at it forlornly. “Lambert, why—?”

Lambert shook. His fists clenched. “If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you.” The Witcher looked genuinely distressed; his teeth gritted, eyes wild. Rather than engage with Jaskier any further, he snatched up his bags and stormed away. Geralt warned Jaskier of the potential for drowners, foglets and water hags in the area, so the bard didn’t tarry.

After a little bit of prodding, some moonshine and a game of Gwent, Lambert finally opened up. He was… embarrassed. Worried. He thought that if the others found out they’d take the piss and if there was one thing he couldn’t deal with—there were quite a few, but Jaskier wasn’t brave enough to point that out—then it was someone ripping into him about a private passion. It was his. No one else’s. Something he could enjoy outside the bullshit of the Path. But it was very un-Lambert. It was gentle, and peaceful, and everything the Path wasn’t, and—he just didn’t want anyone to find out, alright?

Despite giving assurances that Eskel and Geralt really wouldn’t tease him about something he was passionate about—and deep down, the prickly wolf knew this to be true—Jaskier didn’t push Lambert to reveal his secret. Instead, he decided to support his Witcher quietly. For the following solstice Jaskier bought Lambert a present. A set of watercolours. The winter after that, he bought him a new drawing pad and some charcoal. They never talked about it and Jaskier never saw the products of his gifts. It didn’t matter. He was showing Lambert that it was good and healthy to have something just for yourself.

Until the fourth winter.

Lambert approached quietly, tentatively, and placed a small square wrapped in brown paper beside Jaskier while he was basking in the fading winter sun. He left without a word. The bard set his lute aside and picked up his gift. The paper and twine fell away to reveal a beautiful watercolour; a small, full-bodied portrait of himself sat within a buttercup that took up the rest of the background. His miniature self was singing, happy and bright, with the gorgeous yellow shades reflecting the joy of a bard’s heart in full flight.

Lambert had signed it at the bottom, with a very small ‘thank you’ scrawled beneath.

The small watercolour became one of Jaskier’s most beloved possessions.