Reviewers: I FREAKIN LOVE YOU! Like, you guys have no idea. You've kept this story updating! :DD I love you all and I hope you guys don't hate me too much for this chapter... Though, if you do- I understand.

This chapter is kind of... well, choppy is saying it nicely, but I think you'll enjoy the heart-ripping agony of yet ANOTHER character death.

Can you guess who?

It might be sad, and yet I think some of you might be rooting for it... soooooo-


Summary: What if Loki's control was more absolute than a stupid punch to the face? What if he was a little smarter with his Scepter on the balcony scene with Stark? The End of the World naturally.
Warnings: Language. Spoilers for the movie (naturally). Death and destruction. Mindcontrol (should that even have a warning?). Also, I slightly bash people(But hey, it's gotta happen sometime, right?). Character death (Minor and Major). Anarchy.
Disclaimer: I wish I owned it, but I do not. I only own the idea... Gosh, could you imagine OWNING Tom Hiddleston?

My statement still stands. (The Hemsworth brothers? HOTHOTHOTHOTHOTHOTHOTHOT)

There is No Other End to it, there is Only War.

Natasha saw it happen, but could do nothing. Thor saw it happen, and was too late to intervene.

Steve fell and was taken before either of them could try to save him.

Natasha though, ironically before a knife was launched at her, and then there were two.

Clint's knife found the momentary distraction to bury itself into Natasha's right shoulder. Eliciting a sharp gasp and scream of pain. The agony forced her to her knees as she tried to keep her thoughts on the true matter at hand. Try and forget that Steve was down and just deal with Barton.

Only Barton took the seconds that Natasha was on the ground, unmoving except to scream, to take out his bow with his remaining three arrows (grabbing only one. Yes, he was a badass, but even he had his limits for a deathblow) and take aim. He was centimeters from pulling the string and burying the arrow into her head, before he remembered clearly what Loki had told him to do.


He narrowed his eyes as he tried to think of how to kill Natasha, his ex-friend-super-assassin-long-time-almost-girl-he-wanted-for-more-than-just-killing-with, in the most intimate way possible.

He wasn't a touchy feely person, by no means of the imagination. He preferred to sit up in high places, far away from any other human touch, and brood. He thought, like most anti-social people, that other's might have the mental capacity to keep up with him, but would never understand him.

He liked being touched by Loki, but that was different. Loki was unlike anybody he had ever know. More than a woman. With a woman, one could do a multitude of things-

And that's when the idea struck.

"Master," Clint began to outline his plan to Loki in his head, through the bond.


"How does it feel?" Loki asked Steve, cutting Clint off as Steve's eyes lightened fully, while Stark lent him a hand to get up with. Steve accepted it graciously, with a solemn smile.

"Better, sir." Steve answered politely, looking up at the taller man-god. "I can't believe I let those lies and half-truths rule my life… I-I feel ashamed."

It looked, to everyone watching, that Steve was actually hurt by that sentence. As if his entire life had been a lie, and Loki had seen to it that he become better. Stark smiled brightly, knowing the feeling very well.

"I feel almost ill that I allowed them to use me as such. As a plaything. I apologize for my difficultness."

"Thank you for enlightening me, sir."

Loki smirked at him, watching the proud man of America bow to him in gratitude. "It was my pleasure."

It never got old. The feeling of taking over their minds, releasing their inner-deepest recesses of their awareness, forcing their little brains to comprehend a new way of thinking. Intoxicating. Making them think and believe that he was all that was true and right in the world.

In time, it would become annoying and probably bothersome- and he might just have to give them back a little free will to make it interesting- but for now. Now.

It was just simply wondrous to have earth's mightiest hero's all bowing down to his greatness.

No snark from Stark. No freedom-loving attitude from Bruce. No Earth-this and Earth-that from Steve.

Just him. All his.

Not Thor's.


Natasha breathed through her nose as she felt the seconds drag on. Why wasn't Clint attacking her? Where was he? She was a sitting duck, couldn't he get it over with? She'd never seen him hesitate… well, the one time with her- but that was a fluke. Under Loki's control there was no way he would have gotten away with it a second time-

She felt blinded by the pain of her shoulder, and swore she might have passed out for a second.

The seconds dragged on and she refused to open her eyes to see him. See those eyes staring at her with Loki behind him.

Natasha felt her spirit cracking, then…

"Nat?" It was Clint's voice. It was his nickname for her. It felt personal. Soft, sorry, and almost loving. "Nat, come on- look at me Nat."

Natasha was so confused by the takeover of the Captain, the mental takeover of Bruce, the almost palpable despair, the wound in her shoulder, and the exhaustion creeping into her bones that; she did. She looked up through her bangs to see Clint putting his bow away and kneeling next to her. Gently trying to move her hand from clutching the knife in her shoulder.

His blue eyes were softly pulsing between his two colors. Blue and pale grey. Softly. Almost discernible.


She was weak, but could have attacked him. She wasn't an invalid. She had a knife, it would have been simple to stab through his throat. But he was looking with some sort of emotion on his face, at her shoulder. And the eyes…

What game was he playing?

She had already forgotten, slightly, about the fact that Clint was supposed to kill her. About the fact that it was supposed to be intimate. Or rather, had pushed it far into the back of her mind.

Hope could make anyone with common sense stutter.


The bright smile on Clint's face made her heart jump, and he moved closer. A soft look in his eyes. A completely foreign, but not entirely unwanted advance as he moved close enough to breath across her face.

"Nat. I think that blow you socked me loosened the control of Loki." His eyes showed relief, but were still blue. I-I can think again. I've been fighting for… I don't know how long Nat-"

Was she dreaming?

"Nat. I'm so glad you aren't dead-"

And then, without any warning nor word otherwise, he leaned in and kissed her.

She hoped she wasn't.

The pain in her shoulder was inconsequential. The brain behind her forehead was screaming N-O. The logistic part of her mind was telling her, retribution. The butterflies in her stomach were telling her, finally.

His lips were chapped, not a huge priority for a minion of Loki. Smooth lips that is. It was confusing. His tongue tried to seek entrance, consistently coming back to the right seam of her mouth. Making her shiver. Her muddled mind was telling her pain, and stop, and keep going, and don't stop, and isn't this what you've waited for? But wait, and don't do this, and is this Clint?

Is this Clint?

In Natasha's mind, she wasn't sure, but gasped as Clint did something particularly strange and wicked just below her belt with his flat palm. Something completely un-Clint like. He took the opportunity to slide his tongue in and she could only really think past the pain-



Thor saw what was going on, but was once again being held completely immobile by the Hulk.

He had faced many opponents before. Some huge. Some magical. Some smart. Some strong. Some insane. And some smart.

But never had he actually fought one that was all of the above combined.

The Hulk smiled.

The demi-god sweated.

The god was sweating. Something that had not even happened when he sparred with Loki, or his father, or his warrior-mates. The Hulk packed a wallop behind each hit, forcing him time and time again into the ground or into a wall. Hammer held up defensively more often than offensively.

And it wouldn't be so frustrating for Thor, if not for the fact that the Hulk was fast enough to dodge his hammer when he actually tried to throw it. And smart enough to not be placed underneath said hammer when he was actually hit.

And Thor was tiring. Not enough to matter. He was a demi-god after all. He could battle for hours against one normal opponent.

But The Hulk was not a normal opponent.

The Hulk was currently growling at him, eyes lighted by the strange blue glow than made him look even more otherworldly. He was smirking that smirk that meant he was about to Smash something, but his eyes were also like Bruce Banner's when he was thinking something particularly smart.

Thor felt just what Banner had been thinking a moment before he found out what it was.

He went flying as a huge steel beam, being wielded by the Hulk who was grinning like a six year old in a candystore smashed into him.

Where did that steel beam come from? Surely it hadn't always been there… Had it?

The fatigue was getting to him.

Thor shook his head as he stood from the body of yet another Chituri, dead beneath him. His body was aching, but he could last a while longer still. He was not to be king of Asgard only to be taken down by a beast.

"Puny god." Hulk said snidely, somehow making it sound more educated and cultured than ever. Thor was enraged. It was one thing to mock his hammer. It was one think to mock his father.

But one did not mock him!

"You dare!" Hammer in hand, he walked purposely towards the Hulk as he (the Hulk) puffed out his chest and smiled at him. Daring him.

He dared.

Thor snarled as the battle continued, forgetting, again, that Natasha was in danger, his mind going almost primal in his need to beat the beast in front of him.

Something more important, to him anyway, was being threatened.

His honor and pride was in danger of being shattered.


Natasha knew she had dreamt of Clint in this position, leaning over her and kissing her senseless as some kind of battle raged on around them. She'd dreamed it countless nights after being saved and recruited by Barton. She'd dreamt it after having duo missions with him. She'd dreamt it when looking at him, looking away from her.

She'd dreamed of him smiling after and before, and of him being his sexy self, and of him having the muscles he had.

She dreamed of the whole package.

The pain was new. As was the feeling of impending doom.

But she pushed it into the back of her mind, with the pain. Compartmentalizing. Wrongly, but at least she was doing it.

She knew, somewhere in her mind, that this was impossible.

Maybe she was dead already? Was this heaven? She wouldn't mind that so much….

Clint was still kissing her, wetly, as she tried to get her mind back in order.

Then he did that thing with his tongue as well as touching her, just above her navel-

And she forgot it.



Clint had never seduced anyone.

That was Natasha's department, but apparently it could have been his as well.

He smirked against Natasha's lips as he managed to get a moan from her, and tried to reason briefly why Natasha wasn't fighting back. He knew her, from both memories and feelings he had had. Natasha should not be like putty in his hands- no matter how damaged.

Had she honestly fallen for such a simple trap? Had she honestly thought the flickering of his eyes mattered? Had she thought he cared about her?

He could remember faintly, from before Loki, that he had liked her. Loved her like a sister. But nothing else. Natasha and him worked well together. Like a well-oiled machine.

Never a well-oiled sex-machine though.

"Enough playing with your food Barton." Loki whispered into the forefront of his mind. "This is as intimate as I am going to allow you to go."

And that was enough to make him draw his knife from his calf and place it just above her armpit, aimed in the direction of her heart. Not touching yet. Hovering. He didn't stop kissing as he felt her shudder and then completely still.

Oh dear, it looks like Natasha was getting over her shock.

Couldn't have that now, could he?


The Hulk had gotten ahold of Thor's ankle and was currently swinging him every which way, throwing him against the floor, into the air, against the floor, against the air- and repeat. In his Hulk-banner brain, it was a lot of fun.

Calculations as well as maniacal laughter was currently filling his head.

The part that was Bruce was enjoying the muscles he had never been able to enjoy before. The Hulk was enjoying the freedom of having real thoughts. Bruce was quite happy to have the hulk happy. He'd always been too scared. Too scared to come out and play with the Hulk side of his brain. Too timid to even try and control himself. It was true he could control himself, but he had never been able to control the chaotic mind of Hulk.

And that was what he was enjoying now.

It was like trying to run with a horse, play fight with a tiger, wrestle with an ape, and howl with a wolf on a full moon night; with the added bonus that he could control it. It was the primitive to his science. The muscle to his smarts. The brawn to his brain.

The Hulk to his Banner.

He finally allowed Thor to go flying into the cement of the floor. The satisfying crunch as he landed hard was wonderful to his scattered brain. The small groan that was heard after was music to his ears, then he heard it.

Everyone (alien, Avenger, or other) looked towards the sound.

The screaming of someone taking their last breath.


One moment pleasure, the next pain.

How had it gone so wrong, so fast? Natasha wondered faintly as the ragged breath was ripped out of her mouth unwillingly. Clint's lips were no longer on hers. In fact, he wasn't even touching her, save for the knife being twisted into her ribs. But the metal was not him, more of extension.

And that made it hurt even worse.

How had she allowed Barton to wriggle his way into her life so fully that this kind of betrayal hurt?

She tried breathing slowly, as to not jar the knife in her side, but failed horrifically. Blood had managed to find its way through her throat, and she had a good idea of how far the knife had pierced both her heart and one of her lungs.

She wouldn't last long. Not anymore.

She opened her eyes to see the dark blue once again overtake Clint's eyes. Making that smile he had smiled turn into a smirk- quirking his lips into the badass one she knew and loved. And knew and hated.

The worse part, she thought to herself as she felt her heart stutter and stop, was that she would never know who was kissing her.

Clint or Agent Barton or Loki's lapdog.

And as Clint smirked, she felt like she had an idea. But it stopped mattering as everything started repeating. Repeating.

Clint smirked. She had an idea. Smirked. Like. Agent. Lapdog. Barton. Colors. Feelings. Words. Emotions. Blood. Hope. Crushed. Barton. World. Avengers. Clint.

The kiss replaying as she went limp.


Loki walked carefully towards his brother. Hands behind his back. Fingers splayed up his wrists. Minions following a step behind. Smirk firmly in place as he grew into a full-fledged smile. His hair blowing in the wind.

This. This was the picture the remaining ex-Avengers would have in their minds, Bruce thought.

Loki. Winning.

"Oh dear, brother," Loki started, sending a shiver of pleasure up the spines of those around him. The exception being Thor. Who was currently pulling himself limply from the body-sized hole. "It looks like I've won."

Thor glared weakly and bitterly up at his brother, who was now only a foot away from him. His Hammer was only a few feet away, but after losing Natasha- had felt some of the connection, the worthiness- crack a little.

The Hammer would answer his call, but it would do it reluctantly. As would any soldier watching as his commander was torn down to nothing but a foolish child.

"Brother…" Thor started softly, rising to his feet and watching as Stark, Clint, and Steve all kept their eyes and the occasional weapon on him. Such a foreign feeling. Being weary of those he had once called brothers in arms. Or not so strange, considering he still considered Loki such.

"What have you to gain from this?" The demand was ragged and sharp.

Loki only smirked as he raised his scepter. Not to take over his brother's mind, but to intimidate and to show off and to give the silent order to detain Thor to the chituri.

The Chitari surged forward with a wordless roar.

"What had I always wanted?" Loki asked.

Thor glared up from underneath the pile of bodies.

"To be your equal."

Thor was silent.

"And what better way to do that, then to take over an existing world and rebuild it as I see fit?"

"Why this world? Why now, brother?"

"Because humans are weak and pathetic, and need to be ruled." The ex-Avengers didn't even flinch as their race was dragged through the metaphoric mud.

"But- You can't-"

"Yes. I can."

And Loki did.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_..~THE END~.._-_-_-_-_-_-_

And so the world fell.

In four hours, ten minutes, and twenty two seconds after the Tesseract was fully operational and forming the portal; the world was his.

In the hour following that, the rest of the world had gotten desperate. The S.H.E.I.L.D counsel had not heard from Fury, nor the pilot they had ordered to strike Stark Towers. It was no wonder they were getting restless and desperate.

Manhattan was still standing and yet so was Loki.

Both of those things needed to be fixed.

In the hour after that, when the Counsel had gotten a hold of an air carrier close enough to send a different pilot, with a different bomb (one that was much less potent), it was almost impossible to get any kind of signal in or out of the city. Therefore they had to assume that everything was lost.

The pilot was sent to deliver the bomb and never returned. Mostly on account of the shield Stark had built in the hour the counsel had taken to make their decision.

The bubble-shield surrounding the city was impressive in the fact that it covered two miles directly from Stark Towers and stopped all electrical output from entering that was not 'Stark approved'. It also managed to keep the citizens inside the limits. Steve and Clint both took the duty of 'human herders' seriously and did it well.

It took two more pilots for the counsel to really start sweating, and by then Stark had managed to completely take over the entire city. Not one person was even close to the edge of the shield.

Everyone inside was screwed, and everyone outside was just waiting for it.

Two hours and Manhattan was impenetrable. The Portal still open between worlds. And Loki managed to somehow find a throne to place in Stark Tower, looking out the broken windows at the first city in the many that would fall to him.

He sat in regular Loki fashion. Lounging against the throne with his knees wide open and a fist under his chin, watching the Avengers in front of him.

"-The citizens have been placed in the designated areas, sir." Steve was finishing, Clint standing next to him and nodding. They job was basically just the confinement of humans to basements and the like, and then trying to remember afterwards where they were.

"The Shield is fully operational and should stay that way for an indiscernible amount of time." Stark continued afterwards, sitting in a high back chair in front of a monitor Jarvis had supplied for him. He hadn't moved at all. "The tests Jarvis has run confirm that nobody has been able to escape, no communication has been had, and the internet has been successfully cut off, Master."

"Excellent." Loki said before shooing them off to continue their jobs.

"Should I kill the mayor, sir?" Steve asked, before following the already departing Clint. "He has been giving us a little bit of trouble. Giving freedom speeches in the basements and using an archaic means of communication."

Loki nodded thoughtfully, thinking back to how quiet his brother had been, and watching as Steve left to go kill some unimportant important human.

Thor was defeated and shackled to a wall of Loki's own making (in the basement so he didn't have to look at the naïve mug of his), with magic more ancient and powerful than anything he'd ever crafted before. His hammer refused to answer after they had been strapped on, and Loki had the distinct pleasure to be staring at it.

He had the city. He was on his way to taking over the world, but he felt a distinct lack of something.

Something that should have been there, gnawing at his heart. Something that was both tangible and intangible.

Oh well. Loki thought as he looked out the window.

What did it matter?

It could just be that he was lacking the world.

He would fix that soon enough.


Thank you loads and loads! I hope you enjoyed this story, because this is sadly the end. ^^

REVIEW please!