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Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

[ENRICHED WITH MATURE CONTENT. PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION. ] AUTHOR TRANSMIGRATION "I want to write Villain perspective! Enough of this Hero and Heroine gig!" Nathalie Jean Quinn, life was so ordinary until she wrote the first book of her sequel, The Prince's Retribution, swept all over the literature world and garnered massive fan base and fortune. Now, she wanted to leave out of her comfort zone and challenge herself-- To seek the memoirs of a villainess in the story; for its sequel, The Prince's Ascension, Mystique is revealed. But even the management and the audiences begged to differ, so she made her way. Although, in the middle of completing the Sequel, the main villain, Mystique Blackwell, comes for her in that magical encounter and cursed her. Will Nathalie now transform to a monster that she created in her own story? *** Excerpt*** "You're mine. Am I clear? You're my property." Mystique was pressing her thighs against his, which he could never break free from her beguiling clutches. She was on top of him; the surge of confidence came with her and took charge for the whole ride. Her eyes were obscured with gleaming lust, and her hands worked their wonders and slinked to his chiseled abs up to his brawn sweaty chest. Every time she landed a smooth caress, he let out a stuttering moan as he was in spasms. His toes would dig deep into the mattress, no different from his nails that clawed, not trying to touch her sacred body. It wasn't all as she reached for his nipples, rubbing them ever-so-softly. The man would throw his bobbed back to the woolly pillows and arched his back from pleasure. Even though the bed creaked—fast and subtle that played their ears—she loved it. Just as she adored every point in him... Not a second delayed as he would shiver every time she would stroke the same parts of him. On the other hand, she has kept up the pace ever since. She crashed her well-endowed chest against his. Their lips parted by a hair's breadth, and he gritted his teeth as he saw her angelic feature up-close, driven by ecstasy. His gestures and countenance fueled her within, hastening the pace. There, he couldn't control his voice and let out pleasurable groans and grunts. Within those seconds, more thoughts began to blur her. She grabbed a handful of his hair, bringing him closer to her while whispering his ear. "You're mine. Am I clear? You're my property." *** P,S, The book has come to an end in a good note! Thank you so much for reading!

Aethereal · Fantasie
Zu wenig Bewertungen
322 Chs

A Nostalgic Reunion

The moonlight shone ever-so-brightly as the clouds dispersed for quite some time. Within the outskirts of the Imperial Capital found a large plot of land with sprawling greens like quilts, bellowing the curved terrain one after another. Yet its natural hues, ranging from trees to the neverending grasslands, reflected off silver glints no different from the starry sky.

'Damn it, why couldn't I get in touch with Iris, just what happened?' His mind got into a boggle, but he had to focus or he might be led astray from the ferocious wind currents that haunted the night.

As much as he wanted to make haste, since the main problem posed at hand, he needed to make ample preparation.

To his destination would be the first thing he ought to do.

With its beautiful landscape interwoven with several houses, that seemed to blend without a hitch. Athan, veiled in a cloud of pitch-black smoke, descended from such heights and only until he was a few inches above the ground his feet coalesced, stepping on the ground.

From his high-quality boots, the dark clouds dispersed as it went higher and revealed his long robe up to the hood. He grabbed the hem of it, revealing his youthful face with a gaze that bore deep nostalgia that sunk deep in his heart.

'I can't believe I'm back in here once again...' he dropped his jaws for a while and had cold winds attack his throat. He had to shake his head and focus on the objectives he had to accomplish.

He then strode towards the frontage of a humble abode, despite being a two-storey building were rather plain and simple—neither its porch nor its ceiling spires were remarkable as its stonewalls and wood frames seen.

But to him, it was special, especially that one creature beyond the door. His body tensed, cold sweat starting to break out the moment his hand reached for the metal door knob.

With a slight creek, the moon graced the fraction of the hallway; however, there was a pair of green orbs that glinted beyond the dark.

"I never knew you were an early bird." It's deep, yet somehow monotonous reverberated along with the loud thumps on the wooden floor. Its crystalline mouth let out a ghastly green breath everytime it talked.

He was the only familiar he ever had; however mean and audacious this creature was, in the end, he became one of his strongest companions until the very end of the war, sacrificing his life so the future emperor like him could live on.

"... Nero, can't I just return to see you?" he croaked.

Nero's face creaked into a disgusted face, but his tail, like a jaded mace, swung to and fro languidly. "Tell me if it's the month of the fools, then I would hop on the ride."

His four furry legs stood the ground like a prideful lion, except that from his head—along with its forked horns—up to his mid-torso and huge wings were jagged and craggy, one could say he bathed in lava and cooled down. In his crevices and lattices gleamed with color as bright as his eyes, like it had a life on its own.

Athan kept a straight-face, but from the inside, he knew that his heart was about to explode along with his gut churning in no way he could describe.

Temperature rose and attacked his cold cheeks, searing his vision.

"A God damned fool that you are, not you crying seeing me—just ignore or argue like the usual—"

The Crown Prince ignored his qualms and crashed his face, burying between its chest and neck.

"I missed you."

"Get off me, you reek of drugs and ladybugs. I want no diseases. I prefer getting stoned." Nero pulled his neck away and glared at him.

"Fine, I'll let you off the hook."

"Look at you now—scarface, it seems like it's not the only one tearing up."

Athan peered at one of his reflections from a piece of obsidian jagged around Nero's chest. However, several cuts began to heal and revealed his fair skin. "Oh…" He then rubbed his face off from the bloody smears, along with his tears.

He wiped off his tears weirdly, one eye then another afterwards.

"The fuck with 'Oh' be grateful you recover that fast." Nero turned around, walking further deep into the house with such passion, if that meant sticking his butt out with sass.

It made him chuckle.

'He still is the usual, I need to make things right and according to my favor.'

Right off the bat, Athan went to the storage room.

Contrary to Nero's belief of him upon crashing towards his bed, his green eyes gleamed in astonishment, clearly had his body frozen in place.

With a creak and reaching for the magical switch—in which it didn't turn on as well—made him frown a lot.

"Nero, come here." Athan beckoned him with his finger. "Now, light it up!"

His jagged mouth rumbled in protest, but with his owner's deadly gaze, there was no way he could refute.

With a green light, the storage room was nothing but piles of dust that covered every nook and cranny of the floor.

The jewels were gone.

The magic stones disappeared.

Even the piles of gold were nowhere to be seen.

Athan's head turned sharply at him.

"I never knew you had an unsolicited banquet for your convenience," he retorted back, mocking him out of his monotonous tone.

Nero had no choice but to come clean.

"... I was hungry, where were you these days? Quite an owner who doesn't check their familiars every now and then, even feeding must've been hard for you."

"Why not go out then?!" Enraged, he pointed at the empty storage.

"Just say a word, I have no problem razing the capital to cinders either way." Nero raised his head, loud and proud, and didn't want to contest his contempt gaze.

Athan covered his face with both hands, groaning, before grabbing his hair out of frustration.

His current position and in the timeline, he just started to reverse his social standing from being a useless, bastard son of the emperor, and whatever derogatory people conferred on him into a strong candidate for the succession of the throne with people cowering in fear.

He thought of special treasure troves and easy money locations, but the conditions at the moment weren't a viable choice.

Yet this only hope he had gobbled up by some familiar.

"You better give me compensation." Athan threatened.

"Fine..."

"Get ready your reins."

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