(A/N Okay, if you know me, you know I hate POV changing. Yes, I hate reading stories where the Point of View changes. And yes, this is probably going to be out of character, forgive me on that one, So, yes, it is absolutely 100% hypocritical for me to be doing this, but here we go.)

Loki's POV.

I lift a droopy eyelid as golden rays of sunlight seep in through the window.

Rosie's rich copper mane smells faintly of vanilla and apricots, and possibly a hint of chlorine, but I'm not too sure. I close my eyes and take in a deep breath, inhaling her scent, letting out a long sigh. After sleeping on hard metal for months, this bed is like sleeping on a marshmallow.

I pause. What am I doing? And why do I keep getting these thoughts to do this? It just does not make sense.

I do not understand why she appeals to me so much, or what she is doing to make me so. I might just have a bad case of Stockholm Syndrome. Or maybe I could actually...

No. I don't. Even if I did, she would never feel the same way.

And even if she did, she's a pony, and I'm... well, I'm still debating on just what I am.

But even if we could work it out, I'd just end up hurting her, I know I would. Everyone I get close to can and will get hurt. Because if I am one thing, I'm a monster.

Besides, Rosie's annoying. Yes. She annoys me, and does not appeal to me. A mere distraction.

And yet, she has been the only one who actually distracts me from the misery of my punishment. But like I said, a distraction. Distraction...

Her antics are about the only things I can actually look forward to for the next millennia. She also has a huge connection to the Princesses and rulers of Equestria, so even just pretending to befriend her would get me some pleasant advantages.

These non existent feelings are just symptoms of Stockholm Syndrome. They have to be. I knew I was crazy, but not that crazy. But apparently I am that crazy.

Although, I'm assuming that I do not have to worry about it. At least, not right now.

I smile and let out another breath, enjoying the softness of the bed and the warmth of her while I still can. Compared to my cell, this is but a luxury.

I'm also relieved, because last night, for some strange reason, was the first time in a long time where I didn't have any nightmares. Nothing about being abandoned, falling, rejection... him...

No, it was quite a peaceful, dreamless slumber, despite not going to sleep for two hours after everyone else did.

I yawn quietly, opening my eyes, glancing at the sleeping Rosie. I look beyond her to see a very awake Zoe staring directly at me from her sleeping bag, propping herself up with an elbow. My eyes widen, I tense up. I had no idea she was there.

"Good morning, Loki," she grins, "Have a nice sleep?"

I abruptly pull away from Rosie, trying as best I can not to disturb her. I really hope she hasn't noticed in the first place, that was the intention. "How long have you been there?" I hiss, craning my neck over Rosie and glaring at the purple unicorn.

"Oh, about half an hour," she inspects a hoof nonchalantly. When she sees me move away from Rosie uncomfortably, her face falls, "You know... you and her? You don't make a bad couple."

"We are not a couple," I say in a hushed tone, trying not to wake up the others as I slide out of the bed. "... Besides, why would anyone think that?" I turn my back to her, glancing up at the roof with an eyebrow raised. I guess I might not be just asking her, but myself. "We are nothing alike."

"Oh contraire," Zoe stands up, "She's fun, and you're no fun at all. She completes you."

I roll my eyes, "Right."

"But seriously, hurt her and I'll fucking kill you," she says through grit teeth.

"I'm shaking in my boots," I say sarcastically, laying down on my sleeping bag.

"Ha, if you had any!" Zoe snidely remarks, crossing her arms. I stay quiet, resting my head between my hooves and debating on what I should do now.

Maybe I could try to... no. Zoe is awake, and with her being so unpredictable, I'd never make it out of here alive. Well... I am known as the Trickster God, a title I so proudly wear. But this is Zoe we're talking about, and I want to get out of here with all four limbs in tact, thank you very much.

Suddenly, an idea pops into my head. I poke my head up to see Zoe on the other side of the bed. "Pst, Zoe!" I whisper.

"What?" She asks.

A sly grin creeps across my face. "Do you want to have some fun?"

"In the words of Loki, 'ehehehehe'," she pretends to twirl an invisible moustache on her face.

"I am clean-shaven," I state, approaching her from around the bed, "No moustache." 'You twit,' I silently add in my head.

"It's a miracle, too, after not shaving for months..." She looks me up and down, standing up, "Ew. That's pretty gross, actually."

I roll my eyes, trotting in front of her. I finally take a look around the room. Romanoff and Barton are sleeping before the foot of the bed, their noses incredibly close together. Stark and Banner are asleep, too, thank heavens. I would not have liked them to see my little stunt in the bed.

Thor is cuddled up to that fat, fluffy pony that has apparently been living with Rosie for Odin knows how long. She has yet to explain to me what it is and why it is here.

And Rogers has somehow rolled under the bed, fast asleep as well, a trail of saliva running from his tongue and pooling on the floor.

"Eheh... so anyway... about that fun," I start. Zoe stares at me quizzically. "Are you up for a good prank?" I ask, whilst opening a chest of drawers on the other side of the room and searching through it.

I pause for a minute, hoping it wouldn't be weird if I went through Rosie's underwear drawer. Then I remind myself that she is a pony. And ponies don't have underwear... do they?

Abruptly, I begin searching faster than before. Not for any reasons related to the topic I mentioned above, mind you. That is my story and I am sticking to it.

Anyway, as I poke through the drawers, Zoe grins. "I am the God of Mischief ."

"Uh, actually, that title belongs to me," I defend.

"You'd better watch its' eight legged ass, then," she says. I ignore her remark as she searches around Rogers under the bed. I know first hand that the only things, apart from Steve, that she'll find under there are probably dust bunnies and a science book with a thin coating of dust.

I finally come across what I'm looking for, hesitantly holding the black marker in my mouth. It feels disgusting, having to pick things up with your mouth all the time, instead of your hands.

"So, um..." Zoe speaks up after lifting the book under the bed up and peeking under it, "What exactly are we looking for?"

"Do you have any whipped cream?" I inquire, tucking the black pen under my wing. At least that is one thing they're useful for.

Zoe gives me a look, backing out bottom-first from under the bed. "Uh... yeah, I think we have some in the kitchen," she answers. Ah, yes. A use for Zoe. "Why?"

"Good. Okay, we'll also need two feather stuffed pillows, a mirror, glue, a wine glass, earplugs and lots of string. Do you know where I can find a horn at this hour?" I inquire, going through the other drawers and finding nothing.

Zoe taps her unicorn horn on her head. "What do you need that for?"

"No, I mean a horn that makes noise," I talk to her as if she were an infant, my back turned as I search through the last drawer. "You know what? Never mind," I sigh, eyeing my wings, "Change of plans."

"Okay, I got everything you wanted," Zoe smiles.

I turn around to see her sitting down surrounded by a mirror, a tube of glue, a small wine glass, four earplugs and a ball of black wool. My eyes widen. "Wh... where did you get that?" I stammer only for a second. She only smirks, making me roll my eyes. "And you forgot the pillows."

She merely shrugs, grabbing two pillows from Rosie's bed and throwing them at me. "Now, could you please explain to me what we're doing?"

"Alright," I step closer to Zoe, my voice getting more and more low key. "Listen well, as I am only going to tell you once..."

After I explain everything, she nods a confirmation and we quietly put my master plan into action.

Zoe materialises a black permanent marker with her magic, drawing very rude, masculine things on Anthony Stark's face, while I shove the mirror in front of him, making sure not to step on Banner as I do.

Next, I carefully place the wine glass next to a button on the wall that activates the fan blades on the ceiling, as Zoe ties the string around the whipped cream can, adding a loop around the small button that releases cream from the can. She beckons for me to approach her with the bottle in her mouth.

"Gimme a boost," she whispers through a full mouth.

"Uh... boost?"

"Let me stand on you," she explains, putting her front hooves on my back in an attempt to climb on.

"Get off of me!" I hiss, squirming so she falls on her rear.

"I can't tie it to the fan if you're gonna be a jerk!" She scowls, pelting the two pillows at my face.

"How dare you attempt to harm the son of-"

"SSSH!" Zoe spits, shoving her dirty hoof in my mouth.

I spit it out, "What?" I growl. She points to Rosie, who's stirring in the bed. Zoe and I give each other a worried glance and rush back to our places, pretending to be asleep and praying that she doesn't see us.

I lay down with my hooves tucked under me, my neck outstretched. This is my best impression of a barn animal.

Rosie sits up in the bed, rubbing her eyes groggily. I open one eye slightly to spectate as she looks to the spot in the bed where I once was. She sighs, running a hoof through her tangled mane.

"Of course he wasn't there," she mumbles to herself, crawling out and trudging towards the bathroom extension, "Your imagination is freakin' wild, Rosie. Thinking up impossible shit like that."

As soon as she closes the door, I use my front hoof to lever me up, staring after her. What did she mean by that? Was she not quite asleep when I...? Oh, dear...

Well, she obviously thought it might have been a dream, and I plan to keep it that way.

Zoe jumps up from her sleeping bag, giving me a sly grin. I narrow my eyes at her. "Not a word," I grumble, trotting under the fan and bending my legs slightly so Zoe can climb on.

She smiles, jumping onto my back with her mouth wrapped around the can again, the two pillows being held in her magic. She places the can close to the edge of one of the blades and ties the string to it, then generously rips the pillows open like packets of crisps and balances them on the two other blades.

Suddenly, we both hear water running from the bathroom, splattering on the floor with a crackly sound.

"We haven't go much time," she hisses, jumping down from me, "Rosie's just got in the shower. Her noise could wake up the others."

I nod, though I really want to pull off the prank now so it can avoid Rosie. I mean, she'd've just gotten out of the shower, only to be covered in glue. I wouldn't want to undo the whole shower thing.

"Okay, help me roll Rogers out from under the bed," I instruct, nudging him a little too hard and tensing up.

Zoe merely giggles. "Don't worry," she larks, "I drugged him."

"You what?!" I hiss.

"I drugged him," she replies slowly.

"Why?!"

She shrugs, "I dunno. Seemed like fun."

I face palm- or is that face-hoof? Oh, well. I roll my eyes, "Just get him out from under that. Remember the glue."

Zoe sighs, "Fine~." With that, she rolls the unconscious blue stallion out from under the bed, taking his place and crouching down. "Ready when you are," she winks up at me.

I scoff. "Okay, I guess I'll just go and finish up here, you just hide under the bed," I say sarcastically.

"See? Now we're understanding each other!" She smiles brightly, "Unless you feel like joining Rosie in that shower."

I give her a wide eyed look with a sarcastic smile, slightly shaking my head to show her no, before turning my back to her with a swish of my tail. Why does she think that Rosie and I...

Well, she's wrong.

Oh my, have I been leading Rosie on? That was not my intention. Consciously, not.

Stockholm Syndrome, Loki, Stockholm... Syndrome.

As soon as I finish setting up, I nod to Zoe, who returns the favour and awaits the signal. I unfold my right wing, hesitantly grabbing a soft, green feather between my teeth. With a sharp, abrupt tug, I rip the long feather out, attempting to hide the stabbing pain it brings by pursing my lips together and grunting only lightly. It feels like ripping out one of your hairs. I had no idea how sensitive wings could be.

I flip the feather around in my mouth so I'm holding the seed of it, the tip pointing away from my face. I stretch my neck out towards Stark. I softly tickle his nose and try not to snicker at the rude drawings on his face. I'm sure that's permanent. Ehehehe.

Stark's nose twitches as he grunts in discomfort. Zoe buries her face in her hooves, giggling wildly. A mischievous grin creeps across my face as I wiggle the feather some more, until, finally, Tony shoots up from his sleeping bag abruptly.

"*snort* Uh... Wha...?" He mumbles as he rubs his eyes and glances around.

I shoot under the bed, squishing in next to Zoe to watch the show begin. "Fillies and gentlecolts," Zoe smirks, slipping the earplugs into her ears while I do the same, "I give you... The struggle of Anthony Stark."

Stark's eyes suddenly land on the mirror in front of him, his eyes going the size of saucers. He leans forward abruptly, to make sure he hasn't been seeing things. "Oh, no. Oh, no no no no no! My face!" He cries, "My... my beautiful FAAAACE! AAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!!!!"

He throws his head back, squeezing his eyes shut as his high-pitched scream rips through the once silent room, making the Avengers involuntarily jolt themselves awake. I shoot out from the bed, putting my hooves on Tony's shoulders and pivoting him around to the wall, facing the wine glass. I can practically see the sound waves emitting from his mouth!

His loud, feminine squeal shatters the glass completely, the sound waves pushing the shards into the button next to it, pushing it down and activating the fan, which begins to move slowly.

"YOU JUST GOT LOKIIIII'D!" Zoe screeches, jumping up from under the bed,"AND ALSO ZOEEEEE'D!" She climbs onto the bed with the glue sandwiched between her hooves, spraying the sticky mixture everywhere and waving her arms in the air like she doesn't care.

I dive under the bed for cover, so the glue gets on everybody except for Zoe and I. And... Rosie also.

The feathers on the fan blades flutter around like a blizzard, coating everyone in brown feathers. The whipped cream tied to the fan falls upside down, the string applying pressure to the can's button and spraying whipped cream everywhere in a circular motion, splattering mostly onto Thor and Bruce.

"Ehehehe," I chuckle. My plan was a success.

Well... so I thought.

The bathroom extension door swings open to show Rosie, her mane is brushed and she looks less tired. "What is going on in here?!" She cries.

Abruptly, two buckets full of kitty litter and chocolate icing are dropped onto the pegasus from the top edge of the door, the coating her in it. She squeals in shock. Wait... that wasn't part of the plan!

I dash out from under the bed, dodging a spray of whipped cream and ignoring the groans and complaints and 'Loki!'s, trotting up to Rosie. "Are you alright?" I inquire quickly.

"Haha, my doing," Zoe says proudly, "In case she felt left out."

Rosie gasps, wiping icing from her eyes and glances around the room. I glare at Zoe for a second, before turning back to her with concern.

She looks at Thor, who is now glued to a very distraught Flufflepuff. She looks to Tony, who's screaming, "DICKS! DICKS ON MY FAAACE!" And Bruce trying to calm him down. She looks to Romanoff, arguing with Barton and sending death glares to Zoe and I. Then she looks to Rogers, who's still unconscious and covered in glue, with feathers in his mouth.

Her eyes run over the discord and chaos seriously, then stares back at me. I bite my lip nervously. Oh, no, she's probably angry at me! She'll probably never give me pudding ever again and never want to talk to me ever again, either! That means I'll never see her again...

She bites her lip at me, too, the corners of her mouth turned up. She snorts, then bursts out in laughter, "HAHAHAHA!!"

I release a breath I didn't know I so tightly held. She's laughing. She's happy... isn't she? "You... you're not cross?" I ask cautiously.

"HA! Cross? Why would I be? This is hilarious!" Rosie guffaws, "He- He's glued to Fluffle!" She points to Thor, holding her sides, "You're like, the king of pranks!"

"Ehehe," I chuckle, ignoring the 'king' part, which only brings back memories.

"And that, my dear fillies," Zoe smiles to an imaginary audience, "Is how you get... Loki'd!"

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Hey there, people reading!

Ehehehe... Loki's POV!

... sucked. I'm sorry.

But I actually worked hard on this. And I suck at POV changing, so next POV from now on until the end of the season, I'll just stick to Rosie's. Loki is too hard.

Sorry if it was a bit OOC...

Anyways...

Vote.

Comment.

Stay happy.

~ilovepinkiepie