Miraculous Games Dress Up Mga Nobela at Kwento

MIRABEL “You look gorgeous in this outfit. Damn. It reminds me of my younger days.” Miranda complimented, staring at me. I walked towards the standing mirror to take a look at myself. Dressed in a strapless sequin silver dress that fitted my body so well, accentuating my curves I hadn’t noticed had gotten bigger. From my mid-thigh, the dress had a slit until the end, revealing my not-so-very-long legs. I looked really good so I wondered if I was the one in the mirror because of the makeup and how good I looked.

HELENA’S POV The day had arrived, though part of me wished it hadn’t. I stared at myself in the mirror, my reflection striking yet unrecognizable. The red dress clung to me like a second skin, its fabric pooling at my feet in elegant defiance of the night ahead. My mask—a sleek, feline design with sharp edges framing my eyes—only added to the surrealism of it all. I felt like a stranger in my own skin, dressed for a game where the stakes were life and death.

The two spoke, not caring about the stares that were upon us. "Okay. What can I do for you? Since you're here, I bet it will be a memorable evening!" Melissa asked. We entered an oval room. It had mirrors everywhere, in the center was a small podium and near the entrance three white dresses that covered the entire body from the neck to the feet. "Lestat has invited me to a dinner party," I replied, disentangling myself from Melissa and picking up one of the dresses. "You can wear them. They are dresses with magic fabric," I said to Jenny and Lilith.

Jack pouted seeing that she didn’t give him any clothes. Mira rolled her eyes while everyone laughed and went to the room that Mira pointed. The dress fit everyone perfectly. Anne-Marie looked like a lively, pretty little butterfly. Mira did her hair into a fancy braid that her mother used to do for her when she was Anne-Marie’s age and put the head band on.

She smiled, a look of understanding and strength on her face. “You’ll do great. Just remember who you are and why you’re doing this.” Mirella handed me a black dress that hugged every curve of my body. While it had no cleavage at the front, the back was entirely bare, adding a daring, sensual touch. The sleeveless dress ended mid-thigh, and the high heels elongated my legs, making them appear even more striking. Mirella also took care of my makeup. With expert hands, she created a bold look that highlighted my dark eyes, giving my gaze an even more intense allure.

Elara's POV Mira woke me before dawn with a tray of food I had no appetite for and a dress even more elaborate than yesterday's. Deep burgundy silk with black lace and silver threading that caught the light when I moved. "Her Majesty prefers formal dress at court," Mira explained as she helped me into it. "First impressions matter greatly to the Queen Mother."

The trees that lined the courtyard were lush and green, and the leaves rustled gently in the wind. Miranda’s outfit was that of a typical witch from the Shadows Covens. Her black dress clung to her curves and was adorned with various gemstones that sparkled in the light. She had a cloak draped over her shoulders, and her long black hair cascaded down her back. Her eyes, which were a piercing green, were lined with kohl, and her lips were painted a deep red.

Taking care of it makes us feel more beautiful. Once I am done, I blow dry my hair and get dressed. I just wore a simple white T-shirt, faded jeans and flat shoes. I applied light face powder and lipgloss, then put fake freckles on my face using an eyebrow pencil and wore my fake brace. “Are you not done yet?” Miracle shouted. “We are leaving!” “Wait!” I shouted back. “I am coming!” And when I got satisfied with everything, I grabbed my bag and ran downstairs where Miracle was waiting for me.

Creed's POV Fabulous. That was the best my brain could do then. She appeared… amazing. Sweat sprinkled across her forehead, a fine sheen flashing on her skin — and that dress. My God, that dress made her a princess from some faraway, unreachable kingdom. A bright, deep red, cinched just so at the waist, flowing out in liquid silk. "You're in the ladies' restroom, Mr. Malcolm," she gasped, breathless, flustered — and outrageously adorable.