|Reviews for After Love|
| akuma-river chapter 2 . 2/28/2012
I think once the shock wears off, the reality that Sherlock is alive, the rage will come.
| the ticking clock chapter 2 . 2/27/2012
you paint such beautiful, descriptive pictures in my mind with each word...all the emotions are clear and refined, piercing and bright and totally believable. you are an excpetional writer. don't ever stop. you have a talent...wow.
| MilleniumHeart323 chapter 2 . 2/27/2012
AHHHH! Suspense! :D
Very amazing chapter
This is a wonderful story
Can't wait to read more
Keep being awesome
| Jodi2011 chapter 2 . 2/27/2012
Sherlock darts to his side, his strong, wiry arms cradling John's body as he falls into a bed of dark curls and dark wool and dark, sweet breath.
oh my, this is sad and glorious and perfect and wow, I am so so happy they are back together again. And your writing! - sorry, I have no words...
| Skyfullofstars chapter 2 . 2/27/2012
I want to review this chapter.
I really do.
But I don't know how to review Perfection.
I don't know what to say that won't mar it in some fashion; take away from it's beauty; it's haunting sweetness; it's ineffable sadness.
I don't know what words to use to tell those who read Reviews - not just the author - know that This is Necessary. This is Beauty. THIS is the way words are supposed to WORK.
So I'll just say: Thank You. It is a pleasure and a privilege.
| Mirith Griffin chapter 2 . 2/27/2012
THIS IS BRILLIANT. Not a single word here is extraneous. Everything is poetic. Like John's body in the last paragraph, everything sings.
* "Universes of grief nestled inside each other like nesting dolls." Ohhhh, that's good, and you follow it up with the unmitigated gorgeousness of the next paragraph, the one about the over-saturated seasons that leave John unmoved.
* "Time crawls over him like an army of leeches ... He learns to see in the dark..." Excellent. Just superb.
* Oh my God, the bullets the color of Sherlock's eyes, which John last saw as Sherlock lay "dead" on the pavement. *That's* an image I haven't seen before, and it's perfect.
* "'I'm fine.' Fine like the sparseness of breath in his body..." The miracle of your writing is that you show me things about the characters and the English language that I've never noticed before. There aren't a lot of people who fulfill that role for me. This passage is extremely clever, with its revelation that John, who is severely damaged by the loss of his friend, is being both honest and quietly poetic in his reply.
* I didn't notice it the first time through, but there's that moment when Sherlock stops being (him) to John and starts being him, without parentheses. Goosebumps.
* I love your physical description of Sherlock. The moment when he is reunited with John is hugely important to the story. You deepen the moment with visual imagery of great power. I especially love, "His heart-shaped mouth, lined and chapped and parted just so, as if a question were on his tongue... His body, dressed in a black, battered coat, grey hoodie, and jeans, collar half-upturned, hands fisted at his sides as if clenching back the urge to move." He's pure potential energy here, waiting for John's say-so to become kinetic.
* "The lump of a name he has not spoken in three years stuck in his throat." Oh, yes. You have references to both men's throats here. The throat houses grief, but it also houses speech and communication. The two of them are finally communicating again, after a long absence.
The last paragraph is the best I ever expect to see in a reunion scene between John and Sherlock. It's transcendent and inspired. All that beautiful, sumptuous imagery, e.g., "the tawny wings of his joy spread wide; the ship of his grief splits apart and sinks, the ocean cresting smooth and sweet above it." Then "his body overloads ... and his eyes flutter shut" and he sinks into the bed that is Sherlock's physical presence. I've seen post-Reichenbach fics where John hits Sherlock, and I've seen the ones where Sherlock kisses John, but you set the record straight. You outshine ACD's original reunion scene ("I must have fainted for the first and the last time in my life"), even while paying homage to it.
They may not be lovers in this 'verse, but nobody loves any harder than these two here.
| w84u chapter 1 . 2/22/2012
Beautifully written. Thank you.
| Jodi2011 chapter 1 . 2/21/2012
A wonderful idyllic dream of them reuniting. I wonder though, how brutal the reality will be.
Luminous writing as always. I have tissues on hand for the continuation.
| Skyfullofstars chapter 1 . 2/21/2012
"...The edges of their skin blur, their mouths, eyes, hearts nestling inside one another, locking into place, their single heart pumping out steadily and joyfully like a sweet, clear spring, warming their aching, cold skin. They glow with golden, shimmering light, rippling out into the water for miles, a perfect, shivering note of need singing between them like the tremor of a violin, their bodies melting into one another until they are a single being of pure light, rising up into the night, shattering through the clouds to the stars, their heart breaking loose on the wind..."
You entire First Chapter,much awaited First Chapter, of the third part is so beautiful and rich in imagery. But this is what I kept coming back to, again and again. John's forgiveness of Sherlock...and the way their hearts click into one another locking together as one heart with a strong steady beat...gorgeous imagery. I Squealed when I saw your update come over. And I just don't squeal for anyone, AFroGeekGoddess! Thank you Thank you! MOre MOre please
| Mirith Griffin chapter 1 . 2/20/2012
There aren't a lot of people who can teach me something about Sherlock and John after all this time. You, my dear, are one of them.
"Under this flaming sky, on a vast, black ocean, they float, naked and alone: one man pale and long, a silvery starburst on his temple; the other, golden and solid, a bronze snowflake on his shoulder." I never knew it was a bronze snowflake, and now that I see it, I can't unsee it, nor would I want to.
"One thousand ninety-four nights After." Your opening line places this squarely in Scheherazade territory, where it belongs. Your stories are that rich in imagery, in archetypes. They have a timelessness. They're like something told under a starry sky.
Your readers know they can rely on you for the most transcendent poetry, but I want to take a minute to give recognition to how great the dialogue here is. It's stripped down, yes, but this is dream world, poetry world, apology world, and there's no room for Sherlock to be snarky or overpowering or overly intellectual. This could be any couple negotiating an apology, and that's why it works so well. The reader will remember times when this was her, or him. I know I do.
It touches me that your Sherlock allows John to see him at his most stripped-down. No hocus-pocus. No clever deductions. Just a man who made a choice and regrets everything that choice did to the person he cares for most. As always, this gets me right in the throat. I'm conditioned to cry when I see your byline now.