Lord_Damocles

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!!!!!"

Shadow of the Abyss

Silently traversing the Halls, Ren, who'd polymorphed, sat on top of Altair's head without a sound, brooding. Things between the two had gotten awkward with recent events. And neither of them dared to bring it up. Going so far as to promise the other not to speak of their darkest moments.

Raina was not ignorant of the biology of the chromosomes between man and woman. And changes that they experienced as they aged. Within her books, there were many diagrams of men and women, but as Ren recalled that thing Altair carried, she shivered.

'How does he walk right?' she thought.

Similarly, the Prince's mind was drowned by the skin-tight image of Ren soaked in sweat. To her round, perky breasts and curvy hips that trailed down to her—

Commissary