mystradedoodles:

Reichenbach Falls

Totally forgot about this. Illustration for the original books, based on none of the actors who’ve ever played either of them.

bakerstreetbabes:

sofuckingbeautifulbaby:

Holmes’s Methods According To Dr John Watson: Yell really loud.

Seems legit.

Some brandy could have been useful too.

ghostbees:

Happy [sic] anniversary!

sigtryggr:

so I drew myself a birthday present

but then I realised what I was drawing and cried

(Source: altairs)

hilarious-war:

queenstardust:

Here is the requested ink : D
Now on to the colour!

he is amazing

SAVE UNDERSHAW

youmightaswellcallmesmith:

The Final Problem

What a mess, haha.

behindtintedglass:

behindtintedglass:

afrogeekgoddess:

What strikes me most about Reichenbach, regardless of the universe, is that it is a singular moment of destruction for everyone involved, not just for the consulting detective and the consulting criminal at the heart of it, but for everyone around them. Their actions, and their choices, spiral out to touch the entire world, sending in its wake a path of literal and metaphorical death and brokenness: 

Moriarty, Sherlock’s mental equal and archenemy, the world’s only consulting criminal, dies at Sherlock’s hands. Sherlock will never again have someone who can rival his brain and hold his interest in the precise way that Moriarty does. The intellectual loss for Sherlock is huge.

Moran loses Moriarty, for whom he was, according to ACD, his “bosom friend.” He watches Moriarty die right in front of him. Unlike John, Moran is never reunited with his friend. And, he eventually ends up in prison for trying to kill the man who killed his best friend (yes, technically it’s the murder of Ronald Adair, but he did try to kill Sherlock, too).

Sherlock makes the choice to leave John to protect him from Moran’s network, faking his own death, cutting himself off from his best friend, his Boswell, his partner. He not only carries the self-inflicted loss of his support, but also the terrible weight of guilt and loneliness (which he must deal with when he returns home).

John loses his best friend in the world, the man who brought him back to life after being invalided home. He suffers intense (and, later realized, unnecessary) grief at this loss, and (in ACD!canon), suffers the loss of his wife, Mary (again, without the support of his friend at his side). Even after being reunited with Sherlock, he must cope with the fact that he has been lied to and betrayed by his best friend, the man he thought trusted him and who could be trusted.

For three long years, Lestrade, Scotland Yard, and the whole of London are without the one man in the world who could solve any crime, unravel any puzzle. There are undoubtedly many crimes that go unsolved, desperate pleas that go unanswered in Sherlock’s absence.

Mycroft loses the presence of his brother for three years, and must also bear the weight of guilt of knowing Sherlock’s whereabouts, the pressure to keep the secret from his brother’s best friend. And, Mycroft’s worrying constantly about Sherlock is increased tenfold during the hiatus.

Some of these moments, like the fates of Moriarty and Moran, can never be repaired. Others, like the bonds of friendship and trust between Sherlock and John, can be almost healed over time. But life is never again completely, truly whole for anyone after Reichenbach, and it is this terrible fact that makes this moment one of mourning for all lovers of the Sherlock Holmes stories.

And yet, much as it is a story of mourning, Reichenbach is also, remarkably, a story of resurrection and redemption, and above all…. it is a story of hope.

I believe that one of the reasons why we are so unspeakably touched and moved by Reichenbach is because the characters are given the second chance that we, in real life, rarely ever do.  In real life, when we lose someone we can’t replace… a person like that never comes back.  The presence lingers and wraps around you… but it will never be the same.  And somehow, the loss is felt more keenly as time passes.  In real life… this loss is permanent.

It doesn’t make a difference whether you lose that person to death, or because that person has been taken away, or even because that person has deliberately left you, because of reasons neither of you can control.  This person never comes back.

And yet… here in Reichenbach, we all bear witness, along with the ever-loyal and steadfast John Watson, to the wondrous miracle of Sherlock Holmes returning to him.  And we feel everything John feels: the realization that he hadn’t failed Sherlock after all, and that he was never the reason why Sherlock left — because these are, after all, our deepest fears when our loved ones leave us: we fear that they leave because of us. As I have stated elsewhere regarding Reichenbach:

What is most beautiful about [this story] is not the eventual reunion of the characters, but the gift this reunion had given John Watson:  the gift of knowing that the person he loved will never willingly leave him.  That it was the extenuating circumstances that kept them apart, and not because one had wronged the other, or that one had found fault in the other, or that the other has been deemed unworthy or not good enough. Because despite the inevitability of separation – with death being absolute and permanent – the time they had together is all the more precious in its transience and that they had found something worth keeping, even for a little while.

I believe that as human beings, that’s what we always want to believe about ourselves and our loved ones.  We always want to believe that our loved ones leave us not because of us, but because there were no other options left.  This doesn’t necessarily mean it’s true; sometimes we are the reason why our loved ones eventually give up on us, are driven away by our stubbornness, or have simply become tired of putting up with our faults.

But it doesn’t stop us from hoping and believing the best in ourselves and in each other.  And it is that belief that drives us and makes us persevere to turn it into reality, and ensure that the time we have together with the people we love has been worthwhile…

for them.

And most of all… Reichenbach has painted for us a beautiful picture of the forgiveness and acceptance that is sometimes so hard to give, even to someone we love more than our own lives.  The hurt and the betrayal and the anger and the bitterness may be there, but even these are overshadowed by the overwhelming love that you cannot deny a person who has given up literally everything to keep you safe, even if it means risking losing your trust, your regard, your faith, your friendship.  Reichenbach reminds us that in order to truly love a person, we must be accepting of any and all aspects of that person’s life and character, and to forgive, even to the last of our heart’s strength and ability, any and all transgressions they have committed against us.

Because we know — we know — that everything has been, and will always be, worth it.

And above all… we are given a sense of hope, the kind that is most elusive to us in real life.  Through the return of the weary and vulnerable Sherlock Holmes, we experience along with him the second chance that is rarely ever gifted to us.  We experience, along with the flawed and broken Sherlock Holmes, the forgiveness that only a true friend can bestow, the forgiveness that only love can bless a lonely soul.

And we are given, along with a determined and renewed Sherlock Holmes, the second chance to rectify our mistakes, to make up for lost time… to finally truly show the one person who means the world to us exactly that, in case that person still doesn’t know it.  We are given, along with a grateful Sherlock Holmes, this blessing of a second chance, to take care of and cherish the people we love the way they have always deserved to be loved.

Reichenbach is a story of loss, mourning and betrayal.  And along with that, it is also a story of hope, forgiveness, and — most of all — love.

It is a story of second chances.

As I turned away I saw Holmes, with his back against a rock and his arms folded, gazing down at the rush of the waters. It was the last that I was ever destined to see of him in this world.

findingsherlock:

FS says: To be honest I wasn’t terribly fond of the Final Problem as it just … was less Sherlock-y than the rest of the series… however, as Monte says, its a great source of academic interest. The invention of Morarity, the Fall itself, the 10 years of public silence where no actual Sherlock Holmes content was available (I know the Gillette play was going in America but it didn’t premere in London until 1903, so I don’t count it.)

Oddly I found that during the Great Hiatus was actually when papers began to talk about Sherlock more than when the canon was running… I’m still looking into why. 

holmesiandeduction:

thegestianpoet:

I never really ADORED the Final Problem as a story. Unpopular opinion, I guess? I mean, I liked it a lot, but the Sign of the Four is forever one of my faves. And some of the other short stories I prefer to TFP. :| 

Oh no, I do actually feel kind of the same way.  It’s one I really really like, but not my favourite.  Actually I mostly like it from an academic standpoint.  I do love looking at all the ways it’s been adapted though.

(Source: meiringens)