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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 · Fantasi
Peringkat tidak cukup
322 Chs

Recapitulate the Timeline

"Your Grace, this preparation was made, indeed, for your glamorous return." Iris took a step back and gestured a bow.

Nathalie stood from her seat. "Very well, to the dining hall, we shall go."

Keith was quick on his feet as he opened the door for her. But she was quick to catch how he was somehow uncomfortable to her.

So much she wanted to know, her stomach began to grumble, and food was the priority.

Afterwhich, Nathalie took a strut down the hallway with both of them behind her. While at it, she peered sideways and the large arrays of structured glass now enameled with frost. None could be seen beyond the harsh blizzard that obscured the view.

'I'm in this mansion, no, a castle, packed with snow. Surprisingly, this seemed like the same interior design as mine.'

She would spend her winter back at her mansion no different from this. It was a cozy time to spend and lurked within the library to write aside from the duties she had to take as a student and author.

'I need to realign my objectives first…' Despite her motivation and persistence, she couldn't help but take a grip on her stomach as it weaved a rumble, a low sound only she could hear.

'I'm not sure what to feel about Mystique. This was the kind of character I built her: an avaricious lady,' she pondered while heaving a sigh. A steeple made on her fingertips as she clutched her chest. 'I'm a different person; why does it still affect me? Is this some sort of remnant memory?'

It was almost to the point she had an identity crisis, but somewhere deep within her lurk the ways of Mystique Blackwell. However, this served many questions to arise from it as well.

Listing all of Mystique's likes and dislikes, just as she drafted character profiles, dreaded her.

'No way; if that's the case…' She gaped at the jewelry box. 'I could never eat shrimp from now on?! This can't be! I would trade all of these jewels for such food!'

She kept up a straight face, but inside her wailed in agony. For the first time, she cursed herself for creating such a character profile.

Even with the daily routines—her muscle memory was quite helpful, to say the least—was never a problem as well. But the main issue lay on the subconscious feelings of Mystique Blackwell.

'This is quite a challenge… No, it's still early to conclude such. Let me think, let me think. What about Iris?'

Upon taking a glance at Iris, it was only filled with sinister plans done in the past. She was just fulfilling her duties as one of the "ladies-in-waiting" of the sole grand duchess.

However, Nathalie knew she was a double agent, and it was rather too late when Mystique found out. This made her determined to nip in the bud first and foremost.

The first thing she had to do is recall and scribble the first book's whole events as her references.

From the given timeline and the status quo, they were also bound to have disadvantages and advantages right from the start. But she would know the ins and outs of them as long as she recapitulated from the first book's aftermath, The Prince's Retribution.

She cupped her cheeks as she pondered, 'I need to start with the background of Mystique Blackwell…'

Mystique Blackwell, as a little girl, believed in a symbol of power and wealth. The only path towards it was scheming for Prince Athan Vladimir's love and affection. But as she grew older, her ambitions led her to insatiable dreams and fantasy.

Even helping the crown prince and ended up marrying him wasn't enough. She planned to usurp the imperial throne, through him and eventually hers that she ever desired.

A rueful sigh escaped her lips, 'Because of that, the Crown Prince lived and met a tragic ending…'

But as Prince Athan Vladimir was given a second chance throughout his lifetime, he was able to cut of his sworn enemies and potential threats: one of them was Mystique Blackwell.

For every chance she got—of those that are main objectives and golden opportunities—were either obstructed or stolen beforehand. But she was naturally cunning that she would wiggle her way out of death's doors.

'Even so, a natural-born talent of the villain—even with cheat benefits of a reincarnation— she slithered it to the near end.' Nathalie sighed, breaking free from cupping her cheeks when she thought of it.

'But then, as usual, as the protagonist of the novel, he was able to declare a checkmate.'

A lot of events happened when things started to roll down and out of Mystique's favor. She could only do so much from her natural talent against him.

It went intense, and the Prince decided to make a move: ruining her chastity, love, and eventually made her welcome a permanent slumber.

Those weren't done overnight; it was thorough planning, as though he was the villain. He became the monster in Mystique's life.

One of which was the avows of Prince and the Heroine, incurring the wrath of the Grand Ducal Household of Blackwell, mainly because of the daughter, who started scheming behind the scenes.

Seeing the reaction and demise of her beloved daughter, he decided to make a move.

Arnold Heinrich Blackwell never thought that the impartial and cold Emperor of the Dysnomia Empire, even to his royal kins, would dare make a move and protect them from danger.

It was a massive outroar among the lands.

This utter defeat shattered Mystique Blackwell, which explained her current predicament.

It was one of the glimpses on the ending chapter of the first book.

Nathalie knew about this; as the author, she was keen on the details.

'Right now, for the epilogue…'

Ever since it happened, Arnold did whatever he could for her until he swallowed his pride and went to the Imperial Capital.

But then, the Emperor was impartial from this matter; as such, he gave a dismissive wave off hand. Arnold continued to cry and plead for help—until it reached for his title and properties as collaterals.

Moreover, he summoned imperial guards to throw Arnold off the royal grounds.

Nathalie's indigo eyes gleamed when it became a crucial point for the inciting incident of the sequel, Grand Duke's turning point.

For all hope wasn't lost, at least for her.

'I won't fall short this time; I still have the advantage.'

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