I have always been bothered by the idea that Cullen hitting on the female Warden in in the Circle Tower is cute.
Here we have a woman in a building that she cannot leave, surrounded by people who were specifically trained for years to kill and subdue people like her, and then she learns that one of them likes her.
How is she supposed to react, if she doesn’t like that idea? She can’t leave. There is no higher authority that would take her seriously. In the back of her mind, she knows that Tranquility exists and that she could be overpowered by any one of the templars in the tower in an instant. Anders tells us in DA2 that rape was a thing in Kinloch Hold, she no doubt has that in mind too. (And even if that weren’t true - what woman doesn’t have that awful possibility in mind, in most scenarios?)
It’s a spider saying sweet words to a fly, and regardless of the spider’s intentions, what is the fly supposed to think?
You know what I’ve just noticed? You know what breaks my heart?
In this scene, when Lexa tells Clarke “Ai gonplei ste odon”, and Clarke responds by “No, I won’t accept that”, you can see Lexa slightly smiling.
You’re driven to fix everything for everyone.
Even in her last moments, Lexa lovingly smiles, and stares at Clarke. She’s staring at the girl who always makes the best decision for her people, the girl who never backs away from a possibility to make peace with her ennemies, the girl who always wants to save as many people as she can.
With her last bits of strength, she smiles and stares lovingly at Clarke.
What she finds is partly comfort, because she knows the girl she loves will always be herself. She will always seek the best in life. Even in the worst situations.
But as we can see, Lexa has tears in her eyes. She unsuccessfully closes her eyes to hold back her tears, but knows some are still escaping.
Now, do you believe Lexa, Commander of thirteen clans, a long time trained fighter and leader, who is used to suffering in silence, both physically and mentally, who willingly grabbed a sword with her bare hands, freshly and quickly slicing them in the way, would cry?
Yes, taking a bullet freaking hurts, but Lexa wouldn’t cry at the physical pain.
Lexa is crying, because as much as she finds comfort in seeing that Clarke is, and will always be, herself in any kind of situation, she knows who she’s leaving behind. She knows that she’s once again abandoning Clarke, and that, once again, Clarke will be hurt because of her. Only this time, Lexa wasn’t the one to make that choice.
This time, they’re not in the cold, dark woods near Mount Weather. They’re in Polis, the place that made Clarke fall for Lexa once again, a place reflecting hope, and life. They’re in Lexa’s home, a place where they exchanged rough, and yet sweet conversations, where Clarke found peace while drawing Lexa in her sleep, where she found Lexa’s fears and hopes for the future; but mostly, where they found each other, going desperately and hungrily after each other’s lips barely a few hours ago.
Lexa was never afraid of dying, but this time, just to lay by Clarke’s side in their bed, she wishes she could just breathe a little longer.
And this time, as Clarke kisses her goodbye, Lexa falls asleep for good, only wishing she could hold those lips against her own forever.
I hold six hospitalizations in my pocket like broken bones. pulling them out for stories later, screaming, ‘look how broken I am.’ screaming, ‘I am broken open and leaking, can’t you see can’t you see.’ screaming, 'I don’t want to be like this but I do, I do. this is all I have ever known, can’t you see can’t you see.’
another patient makes fun of me when she finds out how many times I’ve been here. calls me crazy. this isn’t her first time either but maybe she can see that this is all I’m ever going to be. drowning in this. willingly taking gulps of water in. screaming, 'don’t you dare pull me out.’ screaming, 'the water holds me better than air ever could.’ screaming, 'let me drown let me drown. can’t you see that the sea is ready to take me and I am willing to drown.’ screaming, 'even if I try to tread water, it always sucks me back under. it hurts less if I just let it, can’t you see can’t you see.’
you’ve been here before, everyone says. I’ve been here before, I reply. we all ignore the way I beg them to let me die in the nighttime. we all ignore the way I won’t remember it the next day. we all ignore the way I keep pretending to get better. we all ignore the way everyone keeps pretending that that’s something I can ever be.