lxtrrs
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Only candles flicker around the cavernous hall. They are enough, albeit, to alight the dais and the debouched display taking place on the throne itself. There on sits the Lord of the Shadow Keep with his newly minted consort draped completely bare on his lap, two of his long, elegant fingers buried deep in her sex.
“Now, little consort, I believe tis time,” Messmer crones. “Thou art ripe and ready to receive my seed. Let us bring forth an heir to mark our dynasty.”
Or
My excuse to drag you all into my brainrot of Messmer fucking his Tarnished on his throne.
Bookmarked by lxtrrs
13 Jun 2026
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Summary
“You assuredly will not remember it, but you showed me kindness an eon ago. I’ve come to appeal to that kindness once more.”
These words, spoken in a land of death and regret, would change everything.
In the darkest room of a tall tower beneath the Scadutree, a pact is made between the fearsome Impaler and Oriane, a would-be Lord with tantalizing potential. A life taken and a life saved is all she wants in exchange for his freedom.
It feels impossible, but she feels impossible. For Oriane knows him, and something stirs within Messmer that he cannot place when he looks at her.
What kindness could a demigod have paid this lovely Tarnished? And will the answer to that question shatter them both?
Bookmarked by lxtrrs
12 Jun 2026