apophenic dreams.

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JIM: You know when he was on his death bed, Bach, he heard his son at the piano playing one of his pieces. The boy stopped before he got to the end ...
SHERLOCK: ... and the dying man jumped out of his bed, ran straight to the piano and finished it.
JIM: Couldn’t cope with an unfinished melody.
SHERLOCK: Neither can you. That’s why you’ve come.
JIM: But be honest: you’re just a tiny bit pleased.

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Sherlock: It’s always been about love.

Always. This entire season has always been about love.

The myriad ways in which two people can love one another.

The myriad people a person can love.

The ways in which love plays with one’s mind, heart, and soul.

The lengths to which someone would go to protect that love.

The fear one has of losing love entirely.

The fear of hurting the people one loves, intentionally or unintentionally.

The way that love transcends all boundaries known to existence.

The realization a person would never truly willing separate oneself from one’s love unless under dire circumstances.

The knowledge that a person would do something once unthinkable to protect that love.

That love awakens a person’s soul.

That love heals.

That love transforms.

That love can make a person fly and run and light up like the sun.

That love makes a person better and stronger and healthier and utterly whole.

That love hurts.

That love heals in the middle of the breaking.

That the things one loves can never truly be lost.

That love is beautiful and terrifying and vicious and precious and sacred and worth dying for and worth living for.

No matter whether we’ve seen it through the lens of love or fear or death, it’s always been about love.

(via behindtintedglass)

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Why The Fall is Beautiful: The Love Light

afrogeekgoddess:

I have watched FALL again…and I am strangely happy. There is deep sadness in my soul at the separation that happened, but I am happy…because something happened on that rooftop, in that moment between Sherlock and John.

If it wasn’t clear before, it’s utterly clear now for the both of them: they love each other. Simple as that. In this terrible, horrible moment, something breaks like a light in each of them, cracking right down the middle, crystal clear and shimmering and razor-fine, that the person on the other end of the phone line is The Most Important Person in the World. The Only Person in the World Who Matters. This is the moment when it finally, completely hits them both, down to the bottom of their souls.

And even in the wreckage that is left, amongst all the blood and screaming and silence and distance, that gloriously beautiful moment still remains, unsullied and untouched, split into two halves and carefully, preciously cradled in the hearts of these two men.

It will be three long years before it is safe to bring that sparkling love-light into the open again, to bring both of them out of the terrible dark and join those two pieces as one. But when it happens…there will be such light as was never seen in the whole of the universe. And that light of love and commitment and friendship will never, ever, ever be hidden away again.

(via behindtintedglass)

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behindtintedglass:

nightowl81:

Those small nods they give each other during the final scene of The Great Game - this is what Holmes and Watson are all about ♥ One heart and one mind.

More than their touching non-verbal communication, what moves me about this scene is the what it means for them to be seeking each other’s gazes even in such a terrifying moment.
For Sherlock, it’s a silent apology of “I’ve never meant for this to happen, I’m sorry you had to be dragged into this”, a gentle reprimand of “why couldn’t you have just saved yourself instead of looking after me all the time—you’re a soldier after all, you know how these things work” and a wordless vow of “never again—never again, I’ll stop Moriarty so he’ll never do this to you or anyone ever again.”
For John, it’s a reassurance of “It’s alright, I’m not angry, don’t blame yourself, we both got ourselves into this—I chose to not bring my revolver after all, because I know you might need it more,” his way to calm Sherlock’s nerves, his way of putting on a brave face despite the fact that it’s his life that’s primarily on the line, his way of saying “if ever I get blown up along with Moriarty, don’t ever regret that I did that, that I chose that, because whether you believe it or not you are a good man and this world deserves to have you.”
And at the end, when again they looked at each other before facing Moriarty, it’s their way of saying—”no, not you, I can’t possibly lose you—but if we’re going to go through this, we’ll do it together.”

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behindtintedglass:

behindtintedglass:

I will play you, Sherlock Holmes. I will play you, and you will cry out for me, you will sing for me, and together we will make the sweetest, most decadent music together, the notes and scales and arpeggios of your dark, disturbed heart, until I have wrung out all the pieces and measures and your heart is no more, no more, no more, and there is nothing left but you and me in the silence. And I am all that you will know. And I am all you will ever need.
Surrender to me, Sherlock Holmes. And I will play you.

There is a part of me that is fighting, struggling, clawing to get out, a part of me that’s flashing all the warning signs that this is all wrong, wrong, wrong.
I want to scream. I feel so open, exposed, violated… and he hasn’t even touched me yet.
A part of me is repulsed. Disgusted. Ashamed.
Afraid.
And yet…
A part of me… wants to know the answer. It is the unknown that seduces me the most after all.
And I don’t know what I will sound like… if he will play me.
Will the sounds that will burst out of my throat as he will slowly stroke me and tenderly saw through my skin be dissonant chords that pierce through the unified music of the orchestra of this mad, mundane world…
Or will the sounds, in fact, form an operatic masterpiece this ignorant world has yet to hear? Will there be, in fact, a standing ovation at the end, the applause and the spotlight we both crave so desperately?
I wait as he positions the bow. I want to scream. Everything is so quiet. So still. So lifeless.
Even inside my own mind.
For once… the monsters inside my mind are… silent.
It feels so very dangerous to be this vulnerable.
I have… never felt more alive.

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barely-breathe:

And everything I lovedand fearedhad all at oncedisappeared.

lyrics by city&colour (x)

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