Tag: sheriarty

captainqueeg:

andrewscottfangirl:

♛ sherlock meme |  nine scenes [6/9] 

This is such a hard moment for me, because what this is – what we’re seeing – is Jim Moriarty mourning Sherlock’s death in advance. As far as he knows, this is the end for Sherlock, he’ll jump, he’ll die, and Jim will go on without him; back to trying to ‘play’ with the ordinary people. And the prospect of this is visibly depressing him. For Christ’s sake, look at him. Completely miserable. He knows he’s about to lose the one thing, the one person, that has been the most adept at giving him joy, entertainment, distraction, excitement, for the past… I don’t know, twenty years? Sherlock is one of the few people who could match Jim’s mind, help Jim feel less alone in the world, challenge his intellect – on top of that, Sherlock is probably the only person who would ever have the desire to do so. Sherlock plays along. Sherlock takes the bait. Sherlock likes the adventure. Sherlock loves the game, too, and he’s actually willing to play it with Jim. He plays it eagerly. He doesn’t just dismiss Jim, like Mycroft more or less does, and he isn’t just terrified of him, like everyone else is. The amount of satisfaction, relief, Jim must’ve gotten when he first saw that Sherlock would play with him, would try to solve his puzzles… after all this time, hesitating, waiting, thinking of reaching out to him but not, looking for the right moment…

Jim found other things, meanwhile, to distract him – but Sherlock was the best distraction. Sherlock was the best at occupying him, at capturing and focusing his mind on something, anything. Let alone that it’s heart-breaking, to me, that he’s had to spend his entire life distracted just to survive. He’s had to search for things to distract himself from… from what? From misery? From anxiety? From boredom? From his memories? From his anger? From life? From having to exist in a world that he doesn’t fit into, because he was born with this destructive genius he never asked for, his own mind, which is “an engine, racing out of control; a rocket, tearing itself to pieces trapped on the launch pad”? 

And now, Jim’s saying good-bye to Sherlock. He’s sitting there alone, knowing that he’s about to destroy his own favorite toy, because he can’t stop himself. He can’t help himself. Look at him, he’s an absolute child. A frustrated genius of a child. Angry, unable to properly communicate what goes on his mind to anyone who could begin to understand, unable to find peers or friends, or anyone who is smart enough to even teach him anything, and in his rage he is smashing his own favorite plaything, and he’s crying before he does it because he’s brilliant enough to understand that it’s going to be ruined, forever, afterwards.

Jim is mourning Sherlock’s death. 

This is why OTP.

…I don’t know what to say to that, but for the first time in my life I’m shipping these two.