#THE SOUNDS I JUST MADE WERE NOT HUMAN #ASDFGHJKL;
HOLY FUCK. HOLY SHIT. HOLY MOTHER OF ALL THAT IS RIGHT IN THIS WORLD.
OH CRAP..i urinated on myself
IM CRYING. HOLY FUCK THIS IS BEAUTIFUL.
now the question is.. who would win? answers anyone?
Rory dies first, obviously. Everyone expected it—except for the viewers in the capitol who bet on it being the fat hobbit. But that’s okay: Samwise dies second.
The bloodbath at the cornucopia goes like this, writ small: Merlin kills Rory and Arthur kills Samwise almost immediately. They’re the easiest, most defenceless targets. Frodo runs, thinking Sam is just behind him, and the last thing Sam does before Arthur slashes him open is yell run, mr. frodo. John drags Sherlock off after grabbing a single gun. Amy and the Doctor run, the Doctor having grabbed his screwdriver and a backpack full of supplies, because at heart that man is ruthlessly practical. Sam and Dean kill Arthur and Ron. Hermione and Harry kill Dean, and then the furious big guns get pulled out: Merlin and Hermione and Harry vs. Cas and Sam. Cas and Sam mostly win—they get the cornucopia, anyway—but Merlin, Hermione and Harry make it off with lots of supplies: wands for Hermione and Harry, a staff for Merlin, and swords for all three. (Well. Merlin takes Excalibur from Arthur’s dead hand, before the cannon fires and he is cleaned away.) They form an alliance: the magic-users versus everyone else, but most particularly against the angel. Hermione privately resolves to die for Harry if it comes to that, while Harry does the same.
Five cannons go off.
In the woods, The Doctor is desperately trying to convince Amy that she has to hang on, she has to. Sherlock and John find water. Frodo hides in a hole in the ground.
Merlin, Harry, and Hermione discuss possible ways to kill an angel, since Avada Kedavra didn’t work. Merlin thinks the angel’s power is in his sword, because of course he does.
Sam and Cas have a conversation neither of them ever wanted to: about how Sam didn’t need the feather to fly.
Sam goes on a hunt. Cas follows after, silent and powerful. Like Dean and Cas in purgatory, but better, since Sam was always the better hunter when he’d put his conscience aside.
Sam catches Amy and the Doctor. He hears the Doctor call her Amy Pond, and for a split-second he hesitates, but then he shoots her in the back of the head anyway. Dean is dead. No more mercy.
The Doctor turns to the demon-boy and the angel with his best friend’s blood on his hands, and he is the Doctor who has committed genocide twice. He figures out that Cas is using the angel sword as the main conduit for his power. He figures out that Sam isn’t quite human. Sam has no more mercy for monsters, and the Doctor points out viciously that the three of them are the only monsters in the arena. Everyone else is quite human. Sam shoots him, and the Doctor regenerates, and steps back up an entirely new man, and makes his first deed in his new life snapping Sam Winchester’s neck from behind. Cas stabs the Doctor through the heart, and the Doctor falls down, apparently dead.
Three cannons go off.
Merlin, Harry, and Hermione stumble into Sherlock and John’s camp. John shoots at them all on sight, but Hermione casts Protego in time and Harry gets him with Avada Kedavra. They make short work of Sherlock, who really had no hope without John. Merlin stabs him, looking like Sherlock’s younger brother, serious and golden-eyed.
The Doctor isn’t dead, of course. Just new. Still furious. Black-haired, damn it all. He snatches Sam’s shotgun out of his hand before it’s collected.
Merlin, Harry and Hermione find Cas by the water. Merlin and Harry confront him together, magic against grace, and they wait for Cas to materialize his sword. Accio!, Hermione shouts, and the angel sword is in her hand.
Together, they make short work of Castiel. Hermione is the one who kills him, finally.
Now their alliance is broken, and it’s Merlin with Excalibur against Harry and Hermione with the angel sword. Harry dies. Merlin and Hermione are locked in a stalemate: he’s more powerful, but she knows more spells than he does, is quicker witted. They’re both ruthless, and they’re both holding objects of great power. Eventually, Merlin slips up, and Hermione casts Obliviate!. Merlin sits, confused, docile as a child, while she walks up to him, picks up his sword, and slides Excalibur into his heart.
Three cannons go off.
The Game-makers send dementors after the three that are left, driving them together. The Doctor sees himself, as always, and runs, because he understands what he is seeing. Frodo sees Sam dying, again and again, and is paralyzed with fear. He is Kissed, and the Doctor shoots him as a kindness. Hermione’s Patronus protects her, but there are still too many dementors.
She and the Doctor meet at the cornucopia.
The Doctor gets one good look at her, beautiful teenage girl with eyes red with grief, covered in other people’s blood, her wand hand shaking, and he knows in his new beating hearts that he would have asked her to come with him, in another place and time. (He never knows why. Just who.) She’s more powerful than he is, but she’s tired. Very tired. And no matter what he says, the Doctor is a brutal survival instinct at his core, never one to die for a cause, or an ideal. Look at the Time War.
The dementors come closer, and her Patronus is tiring, and Hermione wonders dizzily if you can still be the victor if you’ve been Kissed. After all, you’re still alive, technically.
Hermione, is what he says. It is Hermione? You’re tired. I understand. Put the wand down, Hermione, and let’s talk.
I’d rather not, is what she says.
Come on, Hermione, he says cajolingly. You don’t want to kill me.
You underestimate me, she says, and casts the killing curse.
The Doctor dies, and the cannon goes off.
Her Patronus stutters and dies, and the dementors draw closer, but surely they won’t harm her—she’s the victor, she’s won. she gets to leave alive, she gets to be healed in body if not mind.
The dementors do not stop coming closer, and she tries to recast her Patronus but to no avail: there is no happiness left, there are no happy memories. She is covered in Ron and Harry’s blood. Hermione is Kissed.
The Doctor sits up, shining with golden light, and she’s new, a thirteenth Doctor, bright and cruel and finally ginger.
She rises up with her red hair, and the games are over.