notes: are you ever just doing something and then you’re like ‘oh! a lightning strike to the brain!’ and you drop everything to do something else? that’s kinda what this was. which means idk about the quality but hey!
playin’ real fast and loose with gods and oracles in the witcher verse here because, well - i can.
title is from rafferty’s ‘mausoleum’
i tagged everyone in my ‘all witcher’ taglist but if renfri ain’t for you just skip it!
rating: hard teen? (warnings: canon-typical violence, major character death [canon compliant], brief mention of implied child death, brief references to sex, angst i guess?)
pairing: renfri/fem reader
knowing fate does not save you from it.
People so rarely want the truth of fate.
You learn to read your patrons early, divine their desires from the lilt of their lips (pulled pink between their teeth, curved quiet around a secret, laugh lines carved around an unsmiling mouth) and the way their hands flutter like moths against the silk of your cushions. In the beginning, they come to you relentlessly, mindlessly, a river destined to spill into your ocean, to mingle with the salt of you. They pour into your endless reservoir and they never want the truth of it.
It is a hard lesson to learn, to swallow down the truth, but you never forget the prick of the mother’s blade against the soft curve of your belly and the way her sobs burned bright against your ear. When you were a child, pressing your ear against a seashell gave you the music of the ocean. If you returned to the coast now, you think, the shell would echo with her wails instead.
They do not want the truth, and so you no longer give it to them.
turnnoffyourmind
snowghoul
annaxmalina
izzy806
