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Shadow of the Abyss

The Old Gods are gone. Lost and Forgotten, their honor shattered and their kingdoms broken by treachery. The Peace of the Myriad Heavens has been severed. And from the ashes of war and chaos, the Twin Towers of Babel have been created as a beacon of hope. Can Altair, a child born of the Old Gods whose name has long since been forgotten, survive, or will he be cast into the Nine Hells? *** "So..." Arsene continued, enjoying his child's flush expression. "I've got a few things to teach you. What I'm about to give you is some peak wisdom. Think of it as my Ten Commandments: One, never trust a bitch with red hair. Trust me on this. Two, the pull-out game is not a real thing. She will get pregnant. Three—" "F-Father…" " —Never get yourself more than one wife. It sounds fun. It is fun. But it's truly a nightmare. You better be writing this stuff down. This is some grade-A wisdom right here. Four. "...Please stop talking…" The Prince pleaded. "Shhhhh. Just let this happen. Four…Bro's before hoes isn't a thing. The hoes come first. Remember, Booty is more important than Wa— " "STOP!!!!!"

Lord_Damocles · Fantaisie
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454 Chs

First Feeding*

The next day, when Altair woke with his morning wood to greet him, pressed up against Ren's back. He sighed, unsure what to do about this thing that carried a mind of his own. For weeks, it had been acting up, scratching against his clothing, irritating him to no end. 

"Seven More Years," He told himself, counting the years until this phase of his life was over. 

He could feel Ren resting on his arms like a pillow, and he leaned over her, brushing her hair back to reveal her collar. She rustled, turning to him as her silvery eyes cloaked in a mist of red opened. 

He smiled, baring two razor-sharp fangs. "Morning." 

Not immediately answering him, Ren lifted a finger to his lips, to the fangs Altair sprouted a week ago. She had thought about them every night since she offered him her neck. And he hadn't refused.