MTL - Pirate’s Brood Order - v3 Chapter 388 we're here

A naive fox and a cunning tiger, tangled in a dangerous game of secrets—Sohwa and Dohwi’s thrillingly seductive cohabitation!Sohwa, a red fox half-beast born with rare white fur, was shunned by her pack and forced to live a lonely, solitary life.Her days were filled with quiet isolation until one fateful day, while wandering the mountains, she stumbled upon Dohwi, an abandoned wildcat cub on the brink of death.Moved by compassion, she decided to take him in.“We’re different species, so we won’t go into heat with each other. You’re gentle and kind, so living together should be fine. What do you think?”And so begins their life together. But the “wildcat” Sohwa rescued turns out to be anything but ordinary.Dohwi is no mere feline—he’s a tiger reborn after a thousand years, hiding a ferocious side that Sohwa never saw coming.Terrified that Sohwa might abandon him if she learns the truth, Dohwi does everything in his power to conceal his identity.Yet, as time passes, Sohwa begins to sense that Dohwi is hiding something.When she starts showing signs of fear and attempts to flee, Dohwi begins scheming to keep her by his side.“You’re all I have, Sohwa. You know that.”Who will win this battle of wills—Dohwi, determined to keep Sohwa close, or Sohwa, desperate to escape the tiger’s grasp?#Romance #Sexual #Fantasy #Comedy #Romanticcomedy #Anthropomorph #Obsessive

Chen Chao dreamt of becoming a powerful immortal cultivator, flying on his sword and vanquishing enemies with daoist magic. His hopes were dashed when he discovered that he had absolutely no talent for immortal cultivation.

Refusing to submit to his fate, Chen Chao joined the ranks of countless other talentless martial artists and embarked on the path of martial cultivation, a path scorned by the immortal cultivators.

In this era of strife where martial cultivators, immortal cultivators, and demonic cultivators wrestled for hegemony, Chen Chao will either rise to the top or fall into eternal damnation.

Luo Qiu became the boss of a ‘club’ by chance.

It was a weird club that sold strange items and with a servant girl that had 300 years of working experience. Countless people with dreams, hopes and ambitions came to the club to exchange anything precious they own for what they want. They would offer their lifespan, items, and even their soul. Every successful trade would increase Luo Qiu’s lifespan by a little.

“Tribute successful, your lifespan has increased by 99 years.”

As thus, Luo Qiu began his endless life as the club’s boss.

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.