⁜ lover's oath, collector's edition ⁜

☆{signora-- "it's nothing personal, just my job."}☆

hi! 

this one is gonna be quite sad and intense, but hopefully you like it! i might try writing with more female characters bc men (˘･_･˘)

warnings: graphic language, violence, mentions of d3ath, blo0d/injuries

after finding your sister dead, all signs pointing to your girlfriend being the murderer, you go on a rampage to find her - but how much of it do you remember?

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all you remember from that night was your blinding rage and the feeling of your dead sister's blade in your hand. walking down a stony path with a clear motive, eyes set to one specific location. the cold air hitting your face, almost as if the world was trying to stop you.

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"y/n, it's not worth it! do you really think killing her will make you feel better?" you scoffed at thoma's question, nearly laughing at the shallowness of it. "honestly? yeah, it will. you might argue, but were you the one to come home to your favorite person in all of teyvat gasping for air? did you hold them in your arms until their body went cold?" thoma just stared at you, trying to figure out what was going on in your mind. he was like a brother to you, and he knew you like the back of his hand, but he was having trouble placing this anger. he'd never seen you like this. 

"you'll see. i'll come back with her head. or maybe, i can bring her back alive, let the traveler do what they please to her." you suggested, pacing back and forth, your clothes still drenched in blood. 

thoma only spoke up once he was sure you were finished rambling on about all the gruesome ways you could seek revenge, his voice cautious. "okay, but...are you sure about this? i mean, she is- was, your girlfriend. maybe she was forced to!" you found yourself laughing, even though nothing was remotely funny. "yeah, maybe a sadistic murderer who works for the people that want to take over teyvat was forced to kill someone she doesn't know...yeah." you continued laughing, and thoma shook his head, placing his hands over his face.

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revenge. you wanted revenge. that's what that unmatched anger was. someone close to you had murdered your sister. looking down at your shaky hands, you noticed dried blood under your fingertips. what did you do? 

"y/n? y/n! are you with us? okay, someone get them some water, please, and maybe a cold washcloth," someone mumbled next to you. you felt like you were in a cloud, memories slowly floating back to you and seeping into your mind. you started to remember that pain and anger, but it came in the form of an unbearable grief. 

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shaking, realization started to hit. first, it was only anger, because you knew who had killed your sister. but after a while, the anger had mixed with grief. the strongest thing you had ever felt, apart from love. 

"this needs to stop," you muttered, looking around. your eyes landed on your sister's pocket, and you remembered that she always kept her favorite knife on her, the one with flower petals caved into the handle. 

walking over, you searched your sister's pockets. frantic, your heartbeat in your throat, your hands jutted into each pocket, feeling for anything resembling a knife. 

reaching into the last pocket in her clothes, your fingers wrapped around something long, and you nearly cried from relief. pulling the engraved blade out, you examined it. besides the blood from your palms, the knife was clean. in fact, it seemed to have been recently sharpened. smiling to yourself, you shoved the blade in your jacket.