Miraculous Ladybug Marichat Novels & Stories

what if there was something more to it. “I know that they claim our boss is infertile and you might just be the key but I don’t want you to feel reluctant or think you can just give up everything to their believe,you should also try to see if you can break that curse Blair keeps pouring on them.” Mirabel said and for once I finally saw her as a wise person, so maids could be this wise. “I understand Mirabel and you don’t have to worry. I also don’t plan on rejecting Marc because he is more like a savior to me.” I said to mirabel who couldn’t understand but smiled anyways.

“Who's Xander? I heard a soft voice of a Lady saying stepping out of the big old building she was putting on a red chiffon long sexy gown and a red silhouette and red lipstick to match, her silky long soft hair was red as well. When her face came into view, I couldn't believe my eyes, Rachel gasps as soon as she saw who I saw “Mira??? Mark called in a shocked tone, he was as confused as I am. "Yes" Mira answered looking directly at me with dark green eyes. “What's all this? Are you out of your fucking mind? I yelled. “Oh dear Austin, the great mafia lord is now under my finger… Mira laughed sarcastically. “Where is Olivia, I swear to God, if you hurt a hair on her head, I'm going to kill you

Marigold was dumbfounded, but the woman didn't seem to care, she still has a smile on her face and introduced herself: "By the way, I'm Marisol Fontabella, nice to meet you." She took hand's hand and shook hands with it. "Marigold Magbanua, right? That's quite amusing, isn't it? we can both call with the nickname 'Mari'.... Okay, I'll go first, your boss might be looking for me." Until the woman left, what she said to Marigold was still loading on her brain.

She was ready to embrace her destiny, whatever it may hold. She raised a questioning brow when she found Leticia regarding her with a thoughtful expression. "So, where do we start?" Marisol asked, her voice tinged with anticipation. Leticia's expression switched immediately, a wide smile brightening her features at Marisol's eagerness. "We'll start with something simple," she said, reaching for a small, intricately carved wooden box on the table beside her. With a flick of her wrist, the lid creaked open to reveal an assortment of herbs, crystals, and other mystical objects.

She said, reassuring her friend that she would be perfectly fine in her hands. Margo leaned her head back and let Maribel work as she worked some product into her hair. Before she knew Maribel declared her hair done. Her hair was braided to the side and in a loose french braid with a few wisps of hair escaping the hold. Next Maribel told her to close her eyes and she set to work on her makeup. When Maribel was done she held up a mirror and told her to open her eyes. When she did, Margo was more than surprised at her reflection. “Pastel purple eyeshadow adorned on your lids, black mascara coated for your lashes, and chapstick on your lips.” Maribel said, smiling at her friend.

As was I. “What are you sorry for?” I asked Marly. She looked at me with emotion in her eyes. “This woman believes she is your mate. She was brainwashed into believing it. Just beneath the surface are her memories. She fought hard, to try and retain her own memories. The witch believed she had been successful, but she was not,” Marly shared.

She looked up with a warm smile when she saw Mirabella. “Señorita, you’re awake,” Maria said kindly, her accent wrapping around the words like music. “Hungry?” Mirabella’s stomach growled on cue, betraying her. She gave a small, sheepish smile. “Yes… actually, I am.” Maria chuckled softly, as if she had expected that answer. “Good. I made sopa de pollo. Chicken soup, fresh and warm. It will be good for you.” Mirabella’s lips curved into a grateful smile. “Thank you, Maria. That sounds perfect.”

She tried to touch her. Mira groaned frustrated and slapped her hand away. "Don't touch me! And if you don't know how to pronounce my name then you can call me Ma'am!" She looked at her madly. Mariana and Lovina was already celebrating the Patricia's new enemy. They loved the insults came from Mira. "Told you, she is fire!" Mariana chuckled. Patricia frowned at her. "She can talk!.. I thought Indian women are taught to be mute?"

Their eyes are busy memorizing the details. “Nevermind. Let me see our guest.” Hodor carefully examined Maridelle. She's still unconscious. He sniffed the rusty smell escaping from her. To him, without the knowledge of how she made an alliance to hunt her, she perfectly look normal. And the insurgence she inspired is not a thing that would borne from a sweet, innocent face. “We are so sorry for that too rusty smell. She fought and we got her wounded,” Viller thriftily explained. “It's fine. I've been drinking human blood lately.”

A black butterfly perches on my thumb, wings fanning the scent of rot and jasmine. “Bon (Good).” I step toward Mamá Marisol’s bubbling ajíaco (healing stew), the pot brimming with okra and crab claws. “You taught me ghosts starve without fear, non (right)?” Marisol clutches her medalla (saint medal), the silver Virgin Mary glinting. Her hands still bear burns from last summer, when Esteban’s men torched her herb garden. “Oye, niña (Listen, girl),” she whispers, “this is darker than *Papa Legba’s* tricks.”