A.N.- So my LOVELY friend, RomeoBlack123 challenged me to do a songfic/ oneshot thing. (And I swore to myself I'd NEVER do songfics OR oneshots. So here is a short compilation of completely Sherlock challenge results. I'd recommend having YouTube open so you can listen to the songs while you read these.
Rules:
Pick a character, pairing, or fandom
Put your playlist on shuffle
Write one-shots or whatever based on the first ten songs that play (One for every song)
You only have until the song is over to write, if it ends and you're not done- tough luck. Move on with the shuffle.
Post it for the world to see!
Enjoy, guys. I should have the newest chapter for DBS up soon. Thanks for the support!
Sherlock Music Challenge:
Maps, Maroon 5- "Sherlock, where did you go…" John mused, wandering around London aimlessly. His flatmate had disappeared again, leaving the doctor alone to follow his footsteps again. "Good Lord, Sherlock. He's got to quit doing this." He muttered to himself, stopping by a map of the tube system and trying to think of where the detective could have gone. "He's just gone." John mumbled irately, turning to go back to Baker Street. A flash of purple and black caught his eye as they swished in synchronization around a corner. John began to sprint after the colors quickly, and he barreled around the corner without thinking and bumped into Sherlock Holmes.
"What are you doing?"
Happy, C2C (From Ride Along)- Moriarty swung the gun around his finger joyfully, surveying all of London laid out before him.
"All mine," He sang giddily to himself. "But what to do…" He sighed and pulled out his phone, scrolling through all the programs he had saved over the years. This one could shut down Parliament's power for a couple hours, and this one could make Big Ben's hands spin counterclockwise. Moriarty grinned, those were all well and good; but what would be really fun… he typed the number into his phone and held it to his ear.
"Hello?" Someone said coldly from the other end. The criminal couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. "OH Sherlock! We haven't played a game in a while; I think you might be just as bored as I am." He chortled, there was a little silence on the other line before Sherlock answered with a simple. "The game is on." And hung up. Moriarty smiled, so it was.
Wop, J-Dash- Mycroft checked to make sure his drapes were closed and locked his door securely. Then he carefully leaned his umbrella against the wall and turned on the radio. The music had a nice, lively beat; one that someone could dance to. Sherlock's housekeeper had been bumbling on about something called Zumba lately, dancing to music and losing weight. The elder Holmes frowned and began to move jerkily to the beat, after a few minutes he began to really get into it. Drop it to the floor, now lean in. Mycroft was about to turn around when his assistant opened the door that was supposed to be locked.
"Sir?" She said, Mycroft spun around and in synchronization with the music passed his hand in front of his face and shouted, "Damn, she fine!" Before resuming his dance. His assistant quietly shut the door and retreated, he had been under a lot of stress lately. Quite a lot.
Bad Day (Alvin and the Chipmunks Version)- John stared out of the window aimlessly. Sherlock had left him. Permanently. No coming back. There was nothing left. Rain began to knock on the glass before it decided to come down in sheets of driving water. It was depressing, but he couldn't take it seriously. He kept imagining Sherlock would burst through his door ranting about the newest case or his boredom. John almost missed the random gunshots his roommate would fire at their wall to vent. "I miss you, you git." He muttered, staring out the window blankly. His eyes might have been wrong, but someone was in the backyard.
Disturbia, (Cover sung by the Cab)- Sherlock was reeling. The pain was shooting through his mind and body simultaneously with more force than lightning. Mind palace, mind palace. He thought. The room around him began to dissolve, but it did nothing to stop the pain radiating from the bullet wound. Sherlock jolted awake in his mind palace and tried to stumble his way down the winding hallways.I made this place too big. He thought bitterly as he tried to pull himself up the many flights of stairs lining his mind palace. He crawled to the one room where he knew he'd be safe and slammed the door, bolting it shut behind him.
"Hi!" Someone said brightly, he turned and saw Moriarty smiling vacantly at him with a dreamy look pasted across his eyes. "Fancy seeing you here." The criminal mused. Sherlock couldn't find the strength to answer, all he could do was pant breathlessly on the floor as Moriarty leaned closer to him. "What are you gonna do, Sherlock?" He cooed, "Looks to me like you're out of options."
You Belong to Me, Cobra Starship- "Sherlock, what do you want in your tea?" Madeline called to him, "I'm about to leave, so I'll leave a pot of that or coffee on the stove for you, okay?" She said. Sherlock didn't answer her, so she stepped into the living room and frowned at him curled up on his chair with his violin cradled in his arms.
"I know you can hear me." Madeline said sternly, the least you could do is acknowledge me." Sherlock looked at her suddenly with his pale blue eyes. "I don't see why you have to go." He said childishly, Madeline did her best to keep the smile from her lips and tried to remain firm. "Because I have work, and I belong at work right now." She turned back t the kitchen to finish making the tea when she heard a ruffle of cloth behind her and strong arms wrapped around her from behind. "No, you don't." Sherlock said. "You belong to me." Madeline smiled and turned her head slightly to the left to look at him, but she was met by a soft cool pair of lips. She was surprised for a moment, then kissed him back. "Like I said," Sherlock purred, "You belong to me."
Stop Me When You've Had Enough, Nural- "Had enough?" Moriarty cooed, striding in big circles around the chair, Sherlock raised his head with a groan and did his best to give Jim a cold glare. "You can't break me." He muttered. Moriarty smiled, "No, probably not in this way. You're an addict, so naturally you've got your addiction. How about this?" He stepped out of the room and pulled John into the harsh light. He was pale and seemed to have a black eye, although it could have just been the bad lighting. Sherlock's pulse began to hammer, and a small flicker of fear began to creep across his features. "Let him go." He said dangerously. Moriarty shrugged and smiled, rolling his eyes at the same time. "Do what I say, Sherlock, then maybe I will." Sherlock hung his head defeatedly. "Fine."
S.O.S, The Jonas Brothers- Mary smiled, John looked absolutely grand. His moustache was a little unnerving, but it was something she had learned to live with. "Ere is your 'vine, sir." The waiter said with a heavy French accent. He seemed to be paying a lot of attention to John, and Mary noticed him blinking "S.O.S." at her with his eyes, something they had worked out to do to each other in a tense social situation. "I don't think we'll want any." Mary said politely, the waiter coughed and nudged John's shoulder. The doctor looked up a little irately, still blinking S.O.S., then froze.
Defying Gravity, Idina Menzel and Christen Chenowith- "I hope you're happy." John said, "I hope you're happy, too." Sherlock growled back. "I hope you're happy right now." They both shouted at each other. "You can have all you ever wanted, Sherlock." John coaxed, the detective took a deep breath and sighed. "I know, but I don't want it anymore. Something has changed within me, something isn't the same. I'm no longer playing by Moriarty's games. It's too late to guess again, too late go back to sleep. John just trust me; I have to leave." He put one foot on the ledge, and John stepped forward. "Can't I make you understand, you're having delusions of grandeur…" "It comes at much too high a cost!" Sherlock shouted, "I'm defying gravity, and you can't pull me down." John shook his head hopelessly, "Unlimited," Sherlock whispered, "Together we're unlimited." "If we work in tandem." John supplied. "There's no fight we can't win." They chorused. "They'll never bring us down," Sherlock said. "I hope you're happy, not that you're choosing this. I hope you get it and you don't live to regret it." John said quietly. "I hope you're happy, my friend." Sherlock stepped onto the ledge. "So if you care to find me, look to the Eastern sky. Someone told me lately that everyone deserves a chance to die. And nobody in all of London, no one that is or was will ever bring me down!" He leaned forward, his feet leaving the building ledge. "Down!" Moriarty sang.
OAH, Alexander Rybak- "Go away, Sherlock." John snapped, "Oh John; come on!" The detective pleaded. "No, quit following me." The doctor rebutted. "John," Sherlock said, kneeling down on one knee awkwardly. "I love you, you're way too young for me, but I don't mind. You're fine- no, you will be fine. Damnit." He filed through his pockets for a second before pulling out a rumpled paper. "So tell me what I want to hear. Ah, no wait- leave that there. Um, John-" Sherlock started again. "You know I'm no good for you, but uh- God, I don't know what to do." John turned around dismissively, but Sherlock jumped to his feet. "Don't run away, you're what's left of me. I once believed you could save my soul, John." He said. "No need to hesitate, because you'll be fine." John turned around and gave his flatmate a warm and welcoming smile. Sherlock felt accomplishment run through his bones, and let a rare smile climb across his face as John opened his mouth to respond. "No, I'm not gay. Jesus."
