Guys, I wrote a Henry V oneshot with smut (for the first time in ages!), but it WILL be darker this time around
Hiii, as you can tell, I wrote something for Henry V! I haven't done that in a while now!
But I have to warn y'all it will be of dubious consent at best.
It will take place at the infamous Harefleur scene, and Henry will say that he will make his army pass through the city safely...if he has a night with Reader.
So yeah, let me know if you want to be tagged in it when it goes up. I already have a rough draft (!!!!)
Pairing: Thor-era Loki + Gender Fluid original character
Warnings: None needed for this chapter. Mostly introductions and, of course, thirst when Loki arrives.
Length: 1.3k
Summary: In which we meet Venn and Venn meets Loki and things don't go entirely to plan.
Chapter List
Full Master List of all works
“One drop of your blood will take you to Asgard. One drop of his will return you both to me. Complete the mission and the girl goes free. Fail me and it is her blood that will be spilled.”
That threat still echoing through my head, I blink my eyes open and take careful stock before I try anything as risky as moving. Cocooned in a warm blanket of gentle sunlight with a pillow of soft grass supporting my head I’m loath to move at all for fear that I might disturb the unfamiliar sense of peace. The only discordant note of tension in my entire body is the fierce grip I’ve managed to maintain on the ice cold marble in my left palm. Despite my attempts to ignore it, cramp soon starts to set in and I wince as I force my frozen fingers to release the priceless trinket from their grip. Rolling onto my back I hold the orb to the light, the faintest smear of my blood already drying to a muddy brown.
There is no need to confirm my current location. This charm is Amelie’s creation and even if she was forced to create it under duress, she’s far too skilled to fail at such a simple task. My legs are a little wobbly as I haul myself to my feet and send her silent prayer of thanks for her forethought in calibrating the orb to transport me to a deserted stretch of coast line, well outside the main city of Asgard, allowing me the precious time needed to gather myself and prepare for what lies ahead.
Shading my eyes with my hand I gaze out over the sea towards the shining city in the distance. Asgard looks beautiful from this vantage point, the angle of sun burnishing the golden walls and pillars until they gleam. Given different circumstances I’d love more time to explore its cobbled streets and leafy thoroughfairs but time is a luxury in short supply.
How long will his patience last?
A little to my left, an irregular opening in the cliff face catches my eye and further exploration swiftly reveals a small cave. Clearly at some point it has been used as a hideaway or bolt hole; there is a makeshift bed, musty from lack of use and no sign of recent visitors. Unconcerned by its dusty state, I take ownership, crossing my legs in front of me on the lumpy mattress.
Closing my eyes I breathe out slowly through my mouth and make a feeble attempt to gather my thoughts, but now that I’m upright, there is too much nervous tension flowing through my limbs to stay still for long. I need information more than I need rest and I’m not going to find it sitting here. Decision made, I shift my focus to the image of the shining walls of Asgard and teleport myself to the outskirts of the city. Slipping quietly and unseen through the gates, I make my way towards the centre.
My original intention is simply to mingle with the townsfolk and glean as much information as I can. A useful extension of my siren abilities is the ability to invert my glamour, reversing its effects and rendering me so insignificant that I’m almost invisible to everyone around me. Hidden by this illusion of mundane normality I allow myself to be drawn into the excited crowd.
There is to be a party, I learn: excited whispers swirling through the crowd speak of a grand ball to celebrate some victory or battle. Some of the details escape me, but the why is far less important than the when. By pure good fortune the event is planned for this very evening. I send up a silent prayer of thanks. If this good luck continues I can be in and out of Asgard and on my way within a few hours.
I’m about to leave to start my preparations when the crowd suddenly eddies around me and a fanfare sounds in the distance. A frisson runs through the assembled throng and the whispers intensify.
The Princes are riding out with their entourage!
Despite myself, I find the excitement infectious and suddenly I’m as keen as everyone else to catch a glimpse of the young princelings. My blood-soaked career has brought me giants, monsters and dark elves, but I’ve never seen an actual god and I have to admit, I’m curious.
The riders draw level and sweep past, the sun gleaming from Thor’s burnished armour and bronzed muscles. But I have little interest in Asgard’s shining son, my attention is firmly fixed on the younger sibling riding a pace or two behind, his expression thrown into dull relief by his brother’s brilliance.
Tall and lean, there is a stillness to his frame that is out of place within the jostling crowd. His pale features look starved of sunshine, as if the rays are playing favourites and choosing to illuminate the elder brother, while leaving the younger to the shadows. However, the belligerent set to his jawline makes me reconsider - maybe this one generates his own darkness.
Without warning, he reins in his horse, head tilted as if listening for something. Quite how he can hear anything over the cacophony of the crowd I have no idea, but that isn’t the only contradiction nor even the most compelling. My attention is snared by his broad shoulders which radiate a warrior’s strength, and the comparison to his hands which are almost gentle as they caress the reins, controlling his horse through will, not brute force.
Long, lean thighs taper around his mount, muscles clearly defined through the expensive leather. There is a lot of power in that rangy frame, but it isn’t fear that makes me wet my lips.
I’m staring at him…
I’m still staring at him…
What the hell?!?!?
More flustered than I like to admit, I jerk my eyes away. Get a grip, I tell myself, now is not the time for daydreaming. But against my own wishes and my better judgement [which appears to have deserted me for the moment] my eyes are drawn back to his lean frame and those deeply corded muscles. As I glance up at his face I freeze in shock. His gaze is now burning directly into mine - curious, challenging and disconcertingly direct.
An arrogant smile kicks up the corner of his mouth, as if daring me to be the first to look away. I have no idea how he is able to see me, but as the crowd streams past, leaving us alone, I’m not about to waste an opportunity. I return his grin at the exact moment I release the tight leash on my Siren side and turn up the volume. Now all I have to do is wait for the inevitable reaction. At this range he should be babbling oaths of love and adoration within seconds. However, Loki’s expression merely tightens and his gaze traces an insolent path down my body to my feet before returning slowly to my face. To my horror it’s my cheeks that flush! Then the arrogant smirk becomes a sneer and he wheels his horse around, setting off after the other riders without a backward glance.
What the hell just happened? That was… well… rude! Am I losing my touch?
A lone guard marches past, detached from his platoon. Taking the full force of my unleashed Siren, he stumbles, drops his spear, trips over the pointy end and winds up on his knees wearing a vacant, goofy smile. I shake my head. Nope, I’m just fine, clearly the issue lies with Loki.
It doesn’t matter. I saw Loki’s expression as he watched his older brother, and fortunately lust isn’t the only deadly sin I can manipulate.
Introduction to my 'For Science' AU (aka the 'Lex and Loki' series).
Here we find a Universe where Loki is part of the Avengers - how this came about is up to you, but suffice to say, he is a valued member of the team but he's bored. Then he meets Lex and suddenly... less bored.
This story was written for Kinkfest, so there is a lot of gratuitous kink involved. Sorry / not sorry. Over 18's only. NSFW
Chapter List below the cut:
Chapter One: The Test
Chapter Two: The Club
Chapter Three: The Mission
Chapter Four: The Party
Chapter Five: The Deal
Chapter Six: The Bargain
Chapter Seven: The Morning After
Chapter Eight: The Negotiation
Chapter Nine: The Anticipation
Chapter Ten: The Gift
Chapter Eleven: The Evening (part one)
Chapter Twelve: The Evening (part two)
Chapter Thirteen: The War
Chapter Fourteen: The Escalation
Chapter Fifteen: The Apology
Chapter Sixteen: Reparations (aka The Smut!)
The christofascists are openly admitting they are doing everything they can to bring on the literal end of the world. They are being given their commands by a demented pedophile who is so far gone he forgot who his father was and has to send his whore wife to sit for him at the UN. The army, thus far, as indicated every intention of obeying these commands.
Meanwhile in the first four days, we have had TWO friendly fire instances resulting in 6 confirmed American fatalities. Drunk Skunk Pete has admitted there was no indication Iran was going to strike but they went ahead with the orders because Trump "had a feeling." The one who cant even feel when he shits his diaper. The same diaper-shitting sack who falls asleep in his own circle jerk Cabinet meetings. This entire operation was an instant, blind yes from a wad of hardly-organic matter who thinks the pinnacle of intelligence is being able to point out which one the doggie is on an Alzheimers test.
Oh lest we forgot THIS IS THE CLOWN WITH THE NUCLEAR FOOTBALL.
Also, they went ahead and did this so fast very few Americans had the chance to evacuate, least of all our civil servants working in the consulates and embassies overseas. We will almost certainly see American civilians die for this.
In a nutshell: Trump commanded the army to start the end of the world because he got an itch on his ass, and we now know he has enough yes men in his arsenal that if he ever got a bigger itch and wanted to push the big red button, no one would stand up in defiance or even question him.
The worst part of all of this is the DNC hasn't said a word, the handful of (bipartisan!) Congress folk actually trying to stop him are being steamrolled by cowards and pro-IDF Zionists who think because Israel is the one shooting off the missiles with us that Armaggedon is suddenly completely okay.
Is there any reason for me not to kill myself? I dont want to live anymore. I dont want to see the end of the world. Yet here we are, and there is no hope left to be had. At all.
Exactly. I'm exhausted from what the admin is throwing us into, but for the time being I rest to recharge the spite that keeps me from ending it. I can't emphasize how much I and probably many others are waiting for that headline.
Us being exhausted and depressed and near the edge of giving up is what this bitch of an admin and it's tyrant leader wants. It's how it's gets its leverage and weakens the American people into submitting.
Spite, anger, and the decision to continue to fight for what's left of the Constitution pisses them off to no end, and you damn well know when trump takes his final breath, there's going to be a plethora of celebrations around the world.
And I damn well will be a part of that, as will my roommates.
The christofascists are openly admitting they are doing everything they can to bring on the literal end of the world. They are being given their commands by a demented pedophile who is so far gone he forgot who his father was and has to send his whore wife to sit for him at the UN. The army, thus far, as indicated every intention of obeying these commands.
Meanwhile in the first four days, we have had TWO friendly fire instances resulting in 6 confirmed American fatalities. Drunk Skunk Pete has admitted there was no indication Iran was going to strike but they went ahead with the orders because Trump "had a feeling." The one who cant even feel when he shits his diaper. The same diaper-shitting sack who falls asleep in his own circle jerk Cabinet meetings. This entire operation was an instant, blind yes from a wad of hardly-organic matter who thinks the pinnacle of intelligence is being able to point out which one the doggie is on an Alzheimers test.
Oh lest we forgot THIS IS THE CLOWN WITH THE NUCLEAR FOOTBALL.
Also, they went ahead and did this so fast very few Americans had the chance to evacuate, least of all our civil servants working in the consulates and embassies overseas. We will almost certainly see American civilians die for this.
In a nutshell: Trump commanded the army to start the end of the world because he got an itch on his ass, and we now know he has enough yes men in his arsenal that if he ever got a bigger itch and wanted to push the big red button, no one would stand up in defiance or even question him.
The worst part of all of this is the DNC hasn't said a word, the handful of (bipartisan!) Congress folk actually trying to stop him are being steamrolled by cowards and pro-IDF Zionists who think because Israel is the one shooting off the missiles with us that Armaggedon is suddenly completely okay.
Is there any reason for me not to kill myself? I dont want to live anymore. I dont want to see the end of the world. Yet here we are, and there is no hope left to be had. At all.
All of this is true. It’s just unreal that this is the world right now. It’s hard to do much these days beyond shaking with rage or dissociating.
My take on self-removal, as one who spent much of 2025 on the brink of oblivion: a great reason to NOT take yourself out right now is literal spite. Don’t let that MF outlive you. Stay on the planet long enough to dance in the streets with the rest of us when we finally see that Big Beautiful Obituary. I will personally accompany you, and cover any admission fee for you to take a massive dump on his grave. And then we’ll hit a taco joint and get smashed till our livers give out. Whaddya say?
so…my last 7 days have been crafted straight from the deepest pit of Hell, and it was so bad that my usual whoring brain retreated into her own little corner and it's taking time to get her to pspspspsps out into society again
ngl tho this kinda helped a bit
besties & fellow whores pls help bring my old whoring brain back into regular scheduled programming, i wanna have thots again. and write smut. 🫠
I have literally seen this man’s face daily for at least 5 years and he still takes my breath away
Muddy, my dear, if my prodigal libido can return after actual decades in hiding, yours can absolutely reappear to set your pants on fire. Let’s hope it happens sooner than later 🕯️
