Audio 9 Mar
https://a.tumblr.com/tumblr_o3r20fgxdc1rucw2ko1.mp3?plead=please-dont-download-this-or-our-lawyers-wont-let-us-host-audio

snogbox1:

coloringthegreyscale:

snogbox1:

coloringthegreyscale:

snogbox1:

coloringthegreyscale:

artfulkindoforder:

beejohnlocked:

coloringthegreyscale:

@vanetti @beejohnlocked @stravaganza @snogbox1 @daringlydomestic @spazzattazz and whomever else.

Sorry for the weird pauses and occasional word trip.

Not sorry for the pain.

What the hell Bree!!!!

Tell me what kind of pain before I listen

John takes careful steps down the hallway when he hears the sound of breaking glass. As he nears the door he feels his throat tighten and his chest ache before the bedroom door flings open and Sherlock, ashen and wide eyed and completely disheveled, storms past John, absolutely livid and snarling along the way as he nearly knocks his companion off his feet as he shoulders by.

“That pompous, meddling, self-righteous…”

“Sherlock….”

“… sniveling, sentimental…”

“…Sherlock….”

“….lying, imbecilic PRICK!”

John winces when he hears the coffee table crash to the floor as it is overturned by several swift kicks. He hears the wood splinter and break and he slumps against the wall as he watches Sherlock desperately try to use it as kindling for the fireplace.

“Sherlock, stop…” he protests, but he can’t muster any kind of conviction behind the words. He drops his eyes when an orange flame begins to bathe the room in an unearthly glow. He closes them when he hears the sound of ripping and tearing, counting each half in his head as he sucks in a deep breath.

John steels himself as he closes the distance between Sherlock and himself, very carefully sliding to the floor next to the other man. He silently watches as Sherlock flings the torn bits of a photo, one by one, feeding the tiny flame. Each piece curls and warps before catching fire and disappearing into ash. Blues of sky and water paired with white sand, among the serene backdrop, two boys smiling, giggling, clinging to each other’s shoulders and looking happy

He feels Sherlock draw in a breath beside him before, in quiet, hoarse words, the other man finally speaks.

“I had it all planned out, John,” he says in a voice akin to gravel and glass andpain, “… so he would out live me. That I would die first…” A wretched sob breaks past his lips before he sucks it back and holds on tight, “I was supposed to die first. So he would always be there and live forever…”

And what exactly can John say about that?

Nothing.

So he says nothing.

And Sherlock continues to toss the remnants of a happy life with a rubbish big brother into the fire as he tries to figure out how to continue on without him.

In Other Words: Immense Pain

GO TO YOUR ROOM. NO COMPUTER. NO PHONE. 

YOU’RE NOT THE BOSS OF ME SNOGGY

Don’t make me come over there. 

WHY THE HELL DID I READ THIS?!?

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