Ever After High Fanart Novels & Stories

When Zack Davis went bankrupt, I used all my savings of 20 thousand dollars to buy him. “You’re willing to buy me even if I don’t love you?” he asked indifferently. My heart raced as I replied quietly, “Yes.” After that, we got married, paid back his debts, and founded another company. It only took Zack three years for his company to become a new star in the Asterfield. Everything seemed to have gone smoothly. He also only belonged to me. However, what I didn’t know was that he hated me. He hated me for destroying all his pride and for buying him with only 20 thousand dollars. When I decided to let go and divorce Zack, he went crazy. He knelt down in front of me with pleading eyes. “Anna, you still love me, right?”

Seven years ago, Serena was a queen in the world of filmmaking. As the best producer, the world lay at her feet. Yet, for her blind love for Dewangga, she willingly cast aside her golden crown and chose the role of a devoted housewife. But that sacrifice was repaid with a chilling coldness. Since the birth of their first daughter, Dewangga had become a stranger. To him, a daughter was a disappointment, and Serena was nothing more than a failed heir-bearing machine. Now, in the midst of her troubled second pregnancy, Serena must face a bitter truth: her husband cannot even be bothered to show up to sign the papers that could save her life.

After seven years of marriage, Marisol Speight's husband, Lucian Muller, is unpredictable and treats her with cold indifference as if she's nothing. She once believed that after marrying Lucian, she would one day win his heart and live a happy, fulfilling life. However, on a snowy anniversary that only she remembers, she finally realizes that Lucian and his family are happy enough without her. She'll never be anything more than an outsider who can't blend in. He hates her for making him break his promise to marry his childhood friend; their son mocks her for falling short in every way when compared to said childhood friend… Marisol is doubly betrayed by her husband and son. They're as intimate with another woman as they never were with her. She laughs self-deprecatingly at the mess that is her life. Then, she loses hope in them and asks for a divorce. She gives up custody of her son and leaves, later becoming a globally renowned fashion designer and genius painter—her work isn't accessible to just about anyone. Unexpectedly, her husband and son refuse to let her go despite her already giving up on them. Her son cries, "You're my mom! You can't hold other children!" Her husband, who has always been cold and indifferent, turns clingy and refuses to agree to the divorce. "You're the one who chose me, so you have to bear the responsibility for life! You want a divorce? Dream on!"

My younger sister was crazy about novels and always envied the way ordinary heroines pick up penniless heroes and climb the social ladder. So, she started picking up men wherever she could. Until one day, a man with a face covered in sores collapsed at our doorstep. I instantly recognized the signs of syphilis and warned my sister repeatedly, and only then did she give up the idea. However, fate had other plans: my sister's best friend "picked him up" instead and married into a wealthy family. My sister held a grudge. On my birthday, she locked me in my room and set it on fire. No matter how desperately I begged, she refused to open the door. Outside, she sneered: "I know you're just scared I'll live better than you, so you want to drag me down into misery with you. People like you don't even deserve to be a sister!" I burned alive, my body reduced to nothing but ashes. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day my sister insisted on "picking up that man." This time, I quietly stepped back, letting her have her way—of course, I chose to let her succeed.

At our college reunion, I let slip about the three great catches I was dating online. One ran a successful law firm, the other was a researcher at a leading institute, while another was an up-and-coming tech mogul on the Forbes list. My so-called best friend, Cassie Young, paused halfway through her plate of ribs. Giving me the side glance, she voiced her sarcasm. “I feel sorry for your future husband. Of all the women he could have, he had to marry someone with a rich history.” I took a sip of my juice and responded, “Honestly, I’m pretty stressed about the whole thing. They are all amazing. I can’t decide between them. Cassie, does anyone tickle your fancy? You can have one.” As her cutlery clattered on the table, Cassie widened her eyes. “A-Are you for real?”

After getting married, I followed my wife to the desert to help build up a remote research base. After months of severe drought, I applied for 17 ounces of water just to wash my hair. But as station chief, June Sheffield rejected me without hesitation. "The water supply has to go toward cultivating the samples first. You need to learn how to tough it out." Then the next moment, I came across a new post the intern had uploaded on social media. 'Wanted to try an outdoor bath, and Ms. Sheffield approved a whole ton of water without even blinking! She even set up the bath tent herself. I'm so happy.' Furious, I went straight to confront June Sheffield. Usually cold and distant, she softened her tone for once. "Conditions here are harsh. If Morgan can't handle it and decides to leave, the base will end up even more short-staffed. You're one of the core staff members. Once the project pays out, your share alone will be at least four million. An intern like him doesn't get that kind of treatment." In the end, I swallowed my anger. That was, until the first-quarter project wrapped up. When there was still no movement in my account, I nervously contacted headquarters. The moment I gave my identity, the person on the other end sounded stunned. "You're just an intern. What project bonus are you talking about? And the head of the research department has always been Morgan Wilder." I stared at June's signature on the personnel registration list and suddenly understood everything. Without another word, I packed my bags and booked a flight home. Life in the desert was bitterly cold and unforgiving. This time, I was not staying.

“Honey, let’s make a baby together so that you won’t leave me.” I resisted, but my husband ignored it and forced himself onto me. After that, I did it with him 520 times, each time a nightmare for me. Even when he was on business trips, he had to monitor my every move via video, terrified that I would run away. However, one day, I received an invitation to an art exhibition. The intimate gestures between my husband and me had been turned into works of art, filling the entire gallery. My husband held a young female intern by the waist, his gaze sweeping over me with indifference. “Two years ago, you insisted on going against Tiara over an art collectible and suppressed her during the auction, spending lavishly just to humiliate her.” “Now there are 520 art pieces here, an exhibition showcasing your disgrace. If you don’t want them falling into someone else’s hands, you’ll need to bid on them one by one.”

Three years ago, Emily married Aaron out of gratitude. She truly believed he respected her, cared for her, maybe even loved her. It wasn’t until later that she realized—he had never really let go of his ex. And the craziest part? She looked just like her. Time and time again, he left her behind for that woman. And finally, Emily understood something. A thousand days and nights couldn’t warm a heart that was never hers to begin with. All along, he had only been looking through her… searching for someone else in her shadow. If he didn’t love her, then so be it. She was done trying. But after the divorce, he came back—saying she was the one he truly cared about all along. His eyes full of regret, chasing after what he lost— But Emily just laughed. She wasn’t that quiet, invisible wife from three years ago anymore.

I go into business with my childhood friend, Ian Ziegler. The business is a success, earning 1.2 million dollars in profit. Ian gives me my share—a whopping 5,000 dollars. Noticing my dissatisfaction, Ian puts his arm around my girlfriend, Nina Foster, and tosses the keys to his Bentley onto the table. "What, is five grand too little for you? Fine. Since you're so broke, I'll give you a chance to turn things around for yourself. There's going to be a soccer game tonight. We're both going to place our bets. If you win, you can get all 1.2 million, plus my car. "But if you lose, your girlfriend's mine. You'll also have to get on your knees and lick my shoes right here in front of everyone." Everyone else in the room cackles gleefully, eager to watch me humiliate myself. Smirking, I nod. "Sure. I'll take that bet." These people have no idea that five years ago, I'd single-handedly taken down the Northwest Aravian illegal soccer betting circuit. I'd set a trap for a match-fixing syndicate, beating the crooks at their own game. I'd walked away from that life after that. But now, Ian has seriously decided to challenge me to a soccer bet?

We’d been together for seven years, but during that entire time, my fiancée rejected the idea of getting married ninety-nine times, all because of a male intern. The first time, she canceled our vacation at the last minute, saying the intern was stuck on a night shift and afraid of the dark. She got on a flight that very night and rushed back to the hospital. The second time, we were already halfway through the doors of the courthouse to get our marriage registered. But just then, she got word that the intern had collapsed from exhaustion. Without a second thought, she left me standing alone in the snow for the entire day. After that, it became a pattern. Every time we were together, the intern would find some excuse to pull her away. Eventually, I made up my mind to let go. I stopped dreaming about a happy marriage with her. However, just when I announced I was transferring to another city, she broke down, begging me, almost hysterically, not to leave.