imagine the girl you’ve spent your entire life in obligate, all-encompassing rivalry with finally confesses to you the horrible secret of her conception which she’s so sure is unforgivable that instead she just begs you to kill her in a moment tantamount to a love confession but you forgive her anyways and swear your devotion to her and not only that but you HOLD her physically until she allows herself to be held in what’s possibly the first and only hug in either of your lives. and THEN she tells you straight-faced about the DEAD BODY (the blind worship of which is the uniting factor of everyone who’s ever hurt you) to whom she’s already devoted her life. and THEN she says that if she ever dies, she expects YOU to devote your whole life to that same corpse, which ends up not being difficult at all because as it turns out, that corpse is actually the entire reason you were born and when you finally reunite with the only people who have ever treated you as a person and not as fuel for the furnace of the empire, they are talking about your body like the bomb it was all along. all I’m saying is that in that situation i might be a little bit of a bitch too. and that’s not even mentioning ianthe
