moth & the flame

Sochi Banquet

I love how tentatively Viktor approached Yuuri during the Sochi banquet. Look at how many shots it took for this boy to get to Yuuri.

I find this to be especially precious given how Viktor already got rejected by Yuuri earlier that evening.

For all of his being a celebrity, Viktor does not strike me as the kind of person who can easily brush off another person’s dislike of him. Hell, he made a career out of pleasing everyone, and while I don’t think he would cry over another person’s opinion of him, neither does he seem like someone who could just easily dismiss it or not be hurt. I mean look at this face:

His reservations about approaching the fascinating Japanese boy were therefore perfectly understandable. We can even clearly see that he kept his distance for a bit at first.

But like a moth to a flame,

this precious boy

can’t seem to help himself.

And for a while it doesn’t seem like Yuuri even noticed him there?

Oh, but when he did…

It became such an unforgettable night.

Lmao, for Viktor anyway.

Poor Vitya.

I was thinking - Modern AU with throwbacks to canon. When Newt got expelled his parents sent him to Ilvermony where surprise surprise nothing was different, his awkward personality drew bullies to him like moths to a flame.

It all reached a climax when they try to steal his precious bowtruckle and Prefect Percival Graves happens on the scene. He doesn’t see who is being bullied - he just immediately steps in.

And again and again.

Until eventually he has to learn this kids name. Which would be a lot easier to learn if he would just look at him and stop stammering. And the stammering wasn’t even the worst of it, it really irked Percival when the other boy would flinch away from him.

That could of course have something to do with the fact that as soon as he had rescued him from his tormentors he’d dragged him to the headmistress to see what was to be done about the broken school rules - He’s 99% sure bowtruckles were not allowed on school grounds and was more than a little miffed when it turned out special permissions were being given to the other boy. Oh well, if it was all above board he’d done his good deed for the day.

Add in all the other characters from the movie as teens. I kind of imagined Credence as having never suppressed his magic to become an obscurus but still being deeply ashamed of it on account of his cruel adoptive mother. 

Newt slowly ends up befriending Credence, which in turn introduces him to the Goldsteins and after some serious slow burn 8D Gramander is the end game.

The invitation comes hand-delivered by a man in a suit. Bitty’s the one to open the door, and hesitantly affirms when he’s asked if he’s Eric Bittle. The card is handed to him, and the man politely leaves, heading back to the black Lincoln idling outside. Bitty catches a few LAX bros peaking out their window, drawn to fancy cars like moths to a flame. 

“It wasn’t a lawyer,” Bitty calls, and five giant men unfurl themselves from where they’ve been cowering. 

He turns the card over in his hand. It’s thick, off white, bordered with metallic gold that looks suspiciously real. The whole thing is written in twisting calligraphy, so ornate he wouldn’t have been able distinguish his own name if he didn’t know to look for it. The flip side contains an invitation to Kent Parson’s housewarming party with the time and date, and RSVPs can be made via twitter. The card smells of Chanel No. 5.

Bitty Skypes Jack about it later that night. It’s a bit frustrating, because Jack doesn’t understand the subtleties of passive-aggression and keeps insisting that Kent just likes fancy things and genuinely wants them there at his party.

“It’s a game to him, Jack!” Bitty half yells, the card pinned to his wall as a reminder of what he’s up against. “Well, he has the resources, but I have the brains. Do you think you can find out what color his bathroom is? I want to give him clashing towels.”

But can we talk about those flashbacks Oliver has? 

that first meeting

(he’s been in the dark for so long it’s all he even knows anymore… he’s been living in this dull, focused work of black and white, knowing colors from afar but never really seeing them… and suddenly, there’s color everywhere, splashes, strokes, streaks of them… there’s something that just glows and he’s like a moth, stunned by the life in that flame… it’s the first time he remembers someone knowing he’s lying and calling him out on it in a manner that genuinely moves something inside him, makes his lips curve and before he knows it, he’s surprised himself by smiling back at this glowing life of color… the reason he’ll always remember it was red…)

that first date

(where he finally picked up the courage to ask her out. he’s never had trouble asking anyone for a date but with her it’s different, he’s different. and he remembers being such a nervous wreck, because he’s taking that first step towards happiness with the woman he knows he loves… and then he sees her and everything blanks for a moment. he’s never seen her look more beautiful than she does right in that moment, waiting for him with a nervous smile and soft eyes and just… waiting for him… and he just falls more in love with her, right there…)

that first kiss

(the first time he held her face in the palm of his hands, his lips against hers, breathing her in, knowing deep into his bones that there would never be another woman for him, not as long as he lived… he memorizes this moment, so completely that he can recall it as he feels himself dying on a cold mountain, or see it in a place of everything strange. this kiss became his homing beacon, in his own mind…)

that first time

(after he knew he had to stay behind and here was no changing anything, after she’d given him the greatest gift a woman could give a man - her heart, her body, her soul, after telling him he was beautiful and she was so proud of him in so many million ways, after months and months of loving her from afar, from knowing he would die and kill for her happiness, after months of being a man committed to a woman in his heart, his body, his soul, she opened her arms to him, she accepted him. he’ll never forget that night for as long as he’ll live, not only because they made love for hours, culminating the desire that had been simmering between them for years, but also because it had been a dying wish for him, a memory of beauty in a future of dark, a memory that would give him strength in the time to come, sustain him, inspire him, and make him go back to her…. for that night, he was just Oliver and she was just Felicity and they loved each other with everything inside them)

that first proposal to the woman he loved and almost truly losing her

(he’s held so many limp bodies in his life, more than any one man should, seen blood flow out of loved ones mouths as they’d taken that last breath in his embrace… he’s held her body so many times, in so many ways, in so many moments in his arms, with love and laughter and passion and intensity… he’s held her even when she’d been limp, when her head had lolled and he’d carried her to safety, feeling her breathe in his arms… but this was different… because they’d just been kissing, just been looking at the ring he’d finally placed on her finger after harboring it for months, just asked her for the commitment of a lifetime - body, heart, and soul - and she’d smiled and cried and clung to him and said yes… she’d just made him the happiest man on the face of the earth, the happiest he’d ever been in his life, the happiest he’d never thought he’d be… and it was gone… and he could feel it in his bones… this was bad… he was losing her, in perhaps more ways than one… she wasn’t waking up and she was hit and he knew what a straight bullet to the back could do and he was panicking because no, god no, not her… not like this… not with blood coating the ring on her finger…)

that first time he married her

(he’s married her in his heart a hundred times already - with his eyes, his hands, his mouth, every part of his flesh and every part of his being… he’s married her in every way a man can marry a woman in his heart, his everything hers, he hers, for better or worse, for life… he’s been working on his vows for months now, and the moment he has her here, he knows he screwed up, and he knows she still loves him, and he knows this won’t forgive or win her back but he needs her to know, he needs to do this for himself, because baring his soul to her had always been simple, baring his heart to her, telling her she’s his always and he just wishes to be hers, sliding that ring on her finger, even for a few moments, in his heart they’re married right then - even if she’s hurt, even if he’s messed up, even if it’s all fake… for him, it’s never been more real, in the same venue he couldn’t bring himself to cancel and the same dress she was going to wear… in this moment, he’s married her… for the first time…) 


Nothing screams ENDGAME like a man who’s forgotten everything, lost in his own mind, and finds himself guided back home by the sheer memories of the woman he loves. He leaves his perfect life behind to go back, in part, to be with her, where he knows he can speak her name the way he does and her eyes would soften in the way they do.

Felicity Smoak is Oliver Queen’s always. 

And this episode proved than a million times.

3

— Yves Navarre, Friends Gone With the Wind