So fucked up when you're a fictional character and are made to hate the person you're supposed to be friends with because they're the vessel of the narrative that serves as your personal tragic backstory, becoming part of it themselves, and you kill them in cold blood to prove a point until years later you meet that same person from an alternate reality but they're their own person now, they're from a universe untainted, where you were the one who was a means to an end, and they're witty and sarcastic and rebellious and stupid and everything you wished they could've been in your reality, so you feel the need to help them find happiness and safety and comfort in the way you know you've needed but no one helped you attain because buried deep under the malice and trauma and agony you love them. You always have. And then you kiss about it,