A/N Alright, normally I find Mpreg rather repulsive and would never write a story like this, but Loki gave me no choice. His mythology makes it practically canon, and I really, really want to write him with mood swings and cravings. I was going to wait until I had most of the story written before I posted, but I wanted to see if anybody would even read this.

Warnings:

This story probably won't be much more than five chapters, if that, unless I get a lot of suggestions that I like. It is not a slash story, and will only contain a short explanation of how it is that Loki came to be in this situation. Because of the subject matter, it will contain brief discussions of Loki's anatomy as well as "The birds and the bees." It will absolutely not contain any Thorki, only Thor not respecting Loki's personal space. I hope to update fairly quickly, but I make no promises. If you have any other questions or concerns, I would direct you to either the PM button or the review box.

For those of you still holding out for my Artemis Fowl story "Unusual Circumstances," I am so, so sorry, and I don't deserve you. I promise that I have not given up on it, but am currently trying to muster up the resolve to begin rewriting it. This here is literally the only thing more than a thousand words long that I've been able to write in months, and I hope it signals the end of this accursed block.

Disclaimer: If I owned Avengers, Loki wouldn't have stabbed Thor in the ribs with a ninja star.

Loki PoV

He wasn't sure how much more of this agony he could take. He'd known that he would be made to suffer for his supposed crimes, but he never thought his punishers could be this sadistic. He wanted to scream and rage, but knew that it would only result in further chastisement at a later time. He'd just have persevere and pray that something would come along to deliver him from this agony. Perhaps a javelin to the brain or spontaneous combustion.

"Oh, thank you so much, dearie," the elderly woman gushed, not at all put off by his cold glare as she accepted the package of socks, looking for all the world as if he had just handed her the key to the city instead of a few pieces of sewn cloth. Oh yes, this was torture.

When Loki had been presented before Odin and the court to learn of his punishment, he'd been, ashamedly, terrified. Oh, you wouldn't know it from the haughty mask he hid behind, but inside, he was filled with all sorts of insecurities. While he was fairly certain that the man he used to call father would just lock him up for a few millennia, part of him wondered if, perhaps, he had grown tired of it all. Tired of pitying this unwanted orphan, this useless tool; tired of pretending to care. Maybe, instead of keeping up the act, he would use this as an opportunity to express his dissatisfaction in all of his failings, and use the full extent of the law to do so.

Part of the process of announcing the verdict was that the guilty had to stand and listen while their fate was debated, which Loki now knew first hand was an excellent way to make the process all the more excruciating. He was forced to wait and endure the disgusted looks of his old "friends", the disappointment in Frigga's eyes, and the front of cold indifference on the king's face while they decided exactly how he was to atone.

Some had called for execution while others merely leaned towards life imprisonment. A few suggested sewing his mouth closed while they were at it, and one particularly violent woman had suggested they bind him to a rock with his own entrails while a snake dripped acidic venom on him from above. Thankfully, that idea was shot down by Odin fairly quickly, but the alternative was almost worse.

He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised that Odin would choose Thor's suggested punishment, but he had to admit, he was almost in awe of his brother's cunning. He knew exactly how to target him, precisely how to make him squirm and writhe in racking torment. (Deep down, he knew that Thor truly thought that he was doing him a favor, but it was so much easier to imagine him taking pleasure from his pain. It made hating him much more comfortable, despite the genuine affection he used to feel for the man, regardless of the resentment that had accompanied it.)

Which was why, instead of ruminating in his own hatred while he slowly rotted away in a cell and planned his revenge, he was now working with the detail in charge of distributing clothing and toiletries to the newly homeless of New York City.

Odin had seen it as poetic justice; Loki made the mess, it was only fair he had to help clean it up.

Loki held nothing but contempt for the Midgardians. They may be similar in appearance to Asgardians (even after everything, he still considered himself one, if only because he refused to see himself as a Jotun), but they were weak, short-lived, and narrow-minded. They were barely worthy to lick his boots, and they should be grateful that he was willing to rule them.

"Hey! Logan, buddy, how you doing?"

He sighed rather than snarling and whimpering like the cornered animal he was currently empathizing with.

Until he had began his sentence, Loki had been thoroughly convinced that his brother (NO! Not his brother, his rival and enemy) was the single most obnoxious person in all of the worlds. That was before he met Terry Peterson, the supervisor. Somehow, this human managed to beat a near god in being oblivious, unduly cheerful, and ridiculously optimistic.

So, not only was he forced to help the beings he looked down upon on a daily basis, not to mention while working on such an inane project,

(Why couldn't he be part of the construction detail? At least then the only interaction he'd have to have with these ridiculous creatures was when he was being told what to do. It was much easier to swallow orders and cheerfully imagine dismembering the issuer than to have to endure all these smiles and thank you's, and to witness the hope that danced in these peoples' eyes and seemed to taunt him with how impotent he was, despite everything he'd done to try and crush them.)

but he also had to answer to a human that was so much like a Thor on steroids in every way but size. It was beyond humiliating.

He restrained the snarl of rage he was inclined to release when the irritating little man swung an arm around his shoulder. (Terry had to stand up on his toes to accomplish this, but accomplish it he did.)

"Did you hear me, Logan? You were just staring into space and I thought I'd come see how you were doing." Exactly like Thor. And then there was his change in name. Even with his extensive efforts to make himself known to the world with the battle, not very many people recognized his face as the one that had tried to enslave them. (S.H.I.E.L.D likely had a lot to do with that.) In all honesty, he would be dead by now if that was not the case. However, a few did know him by name, and even those who didn't understand it's significance would still find it odd. Thus, Logan.

"I am fine, Terry. Is there something you require?" he asked with forced politeness, gingerly ducking under and away from the offending extremity.

There were two reasons that he did not verbally- or even physically- eviscerate the man where he stood for such an affront.

One, the Avengers; he had to live with them. Or, under them, really. His quarters were in the basement of Stark tower in a room more sparse than most Asgardian prison cells.

The point being, if any of them caught wind that he was being anything less than the model inmate, the harassment he had to deal with from them would only increase, as well as the lecturing from Thor.

(The harassment mostly just came from Hawkeye and Stark. Stark and the Beast were the only one's that were even there consistently, while the Hawk made a point of dropping in just to make him miserable. Even so, just the two of them were nearly enough to drive him insane.)

Two, his powers were restrained, and he had no allies. He may still be stronger than most Midgardians, but he had yet to meet a race that was above ganging up on an opponent to assure victory, and even he wouldn't make it out unscathed if more than four or five came at him at once. Thor may assist him, but he wouldn't count on it until he was on Death's door. No, it didn't make any sense to be picking fights.

That did not mean that he just laid down and behaved like a well trained dog. It was really too easy to cause mischief amongst these humans, even the Avengers, and he took a small amount of satisfaction from messing with them when he could get away with it... but it was all so childish. Spreading rumors, "misplacing" something of importance; it was all things he'd accomplished as a child, and the few times he did manage to get one up on his enemies, well, they had better resources than he did and would simply retaliate with something ten times as humiliating, resulting in him just being reminded that there was nothing he could do about it and that he was completely at there mercy until he could find a way out of these confounded cuffs!

"Nah, you just keep doing what you're doing," Terry replied with that idiotic smile of his. Thankfully, some frantic volunteer started yelling for him, something about losing all of the toothpaste, and he was spared whatever senseless babble he might have been subjected to.

He turned to assist the next sock-deprived cretin, but instead of a 'How may I help you?', a scream tore from his mouth, and he collapsed to the ground, clutching his midriff.

Thor PoV

If someone were to ask Thor what it was that made him love Earth so much, he would answer with a simple "Jane Foster." If they continued to press, he would begin waxing poetic about his three biggest loves after her: Pop Tarts, coffee, and donuts. As far as he knew, these things were completely unique to Midgard, and when it was time to go home, he would be certain to stock up with enough to last him several years.

Currently, he had three boxes of the last one tucked under his arm as he made his way back to his brother. One was already empty, the second was half-way there, and the third he was saving.

"Hey, Point Break, aren't you supposed to be on babysitting duty today?" a metallic voice called down from somewhere above him.

"Greetings to you as well, Man of Iron," he called back jovially, nodding as a red and gold automaton landed next to him, the faceplate sliding up to reveal Tony Stark. "I was merely out retrieving sustenance. And you?"

"Holding up a bridge while they replaced the support columns; I'd say that deserves a box of 'job well done' donuts, wouldn't you?" A metal hand attempted to snake in and snatch the last box before Thor smacked it away.

"If you wish to eat donuts, you must go and purchase your own. These are for Son of Peter, who has been working very hard on helping those negatively affected by our battle," he said firmly, tucking the box protectively into his side.

"Uh huh. You mean Son of Peter and psychotic baby brother," he replied with clear skepticism.

Thor felt the familiar anger flare up for a moment as the insult before it quickly puttered out. Defending his brother's honor was just too exhausting when he gave him no reason to do so.

"He has not caused any major incidences since last week's bathing room fire," he justified weakly. "Surely a reward of some kind would not be amiss."

"A reward for not setting something on fire? Gee, sure wish they had those when I was a kid," Stark deadpanned.

Anything Thor might have said in response was cut off by a scream, one that he was not accustomed to hearing but recognized all the same. A split second later, the donuts had gone flying while the God of Thunder and Man of Iron sprinted towards the sound of the commotion.

Third PoV

The two rounded a corner to see a crowd gathered in front of the distribution building, pained cries rising from the center where a frantic Terry was trying to figure out what was wrong with Loki.

Thor nearly bulldozed his way through the throng, physically lifting and setting aside a man who wasn't fast enough to get out of the way, ignoring the startled protests while he shooed Peterson away. Tony stood back, yelling at the crowd to shove off while readying his plasma cannons in case this proved to be a trap.

"Loki, how are you hurt? Tell us what you need," Thor demanded, all-business. Loki weakly raised a hand to him.

"M-magic," he managed to get out, biting on his lip hard to keep from screaming. Thor's gaze abruptly hardened, and he stood back up, unsheathing Mjolnir and pointing it in his brother's face.

"Whatever trickery this is, Loki, cease at once," he intoned, his face seeming to be carved from stone.

"Th-Thor, p-please," he begged, jerking as he was hit with another round of wracking pain.

"No! I grow weary of you using my affection to manipulate me, now stand up," he roared.

"Brother, it will die if you don't!" he shrieked, not realizing how he'd just addressed his nemesis.

There was a moment where nothing but utter shock showed on Thor's face, before he quickly reached down and firmly clasped Loki's hand in his. After a few seconds, Loki's entire body relaxed, his face clearing as he let his hand flop to the ground. He still panted for breath, but the pain was gone.

Thor gathered him up and cradled him in his free arm, despite Loki's exhausted objections, and began to swing Mjolnir for momentum.

"Uh, what just happened here?" Thor glanced over, having nearly forgotten that Stark was even there.

"Loki almost suffered from a miscarriage," he responded curtly, before letting his hammer fly, heading straight for the Avengers Tower.

Tony stared after them. "Wait, what?"

A/N Reviews are love! Especially constructively critical reviews. Were the characters in character? Was my grammar up to par? Let me know how I can improve the reading experience for you. Also, feel free to leave suggestions for funny pregnancy scenes, otherwise, I'll have to use my imagination. *Le Gasp!* (And someone, please, help me come up with nicknames for Tony to call everybody. I felt so guilty for using 'Point Break' and not coming up with something original. I lack the cleverness and cultural awareness of the great Tony Stark! D: ) Love you all, see you later. ^_^