Maeve Fanart Novels & Stories

"Mauve what happened" "I can't do it, Sephie. I-I can't…" Tears flood Mauve's eyes as she falls on her knee. Sephie helps her regain balance and stand up again. "Mauve you must try again, this is our only way back home. Just focus and no matter what you see in there, fight it and don't let go of your core" Sephie says as she locks Mauve in her eager and passionate gaze. Mauve saw how important this is for Sephie and now she is willing to try once again even if she has doubts about herself.

I said with a small laugh. Sophie groaned. “It would have been better. He’s stuck with me forever and that’s so unfortunate.” “What?” I giggled, holding back my laughter. “Hi, I’m Monalisa. And you?” The boy smirked proudly. “I’m Mum’s favourite. Max.” “Pretty Max,” I said with a teasing smile. “You’re cute.” His cheeks reddened. “Thank you,” he replied shyly, grinning at me. “Nah… Joshua would have thrown a fit if I had called him cute,” I chuckled at the thought, shaking my head softly. For a moment the room felt lighter.

My hand rests on the doorknob and I turn it as slowly as I can, making sure the door doesn’t squeak as I push it open. I push the door open an inch, just enough to see. Maeve’s on her bed, eyes closed and facing the door. Slivers of moonlight cast through the curtains illuminating her like she is the prize at the end of a rainbow. Sheets are twisted around her ankles, her sleep tank top is raised to show off her flat stomach. She’s on her knees in a pair of panties, her body moving in slow, rolling waves. The bed creaks under her as her hips undulate over the giant stuffed teddy bear she keeps on her bed.

I teased her which earned me a light shove into Eddie. We made our way into our dorm & to our room to shower & change. When Maeva finally appeared from her closet in her uniform, she had on some light make up & her hair was in a high ponytail on her head. He gorgeous dark brown ringlet curls cascaded down her back & over her shoulders. Her hair was so unimaginably long, you could tell it had been years since her last cut, & her dark ringlets were their natural shade. Even as beautiful as she looked, I couldn't help but feel pity for the fact that it was obvious that she didn't have a female figure in her life.

I said, and he looked at me like he could see the stitches under my shirt. “Loud is okay,” he said. “Loud isn’t dying.” Every eighth night I went back to the storage unit. Maeve checked the sites with the tenderness of a mechanic who loves the sound an engine makes when it finally admits what’s wrong. She added new points—along the spine, the wrists, the Achilles. She tattooed small, precise sigils around each site with a needle that sang. The ink wasn’t black. It was the color of a bruise at the end of its story.

When they reached the threshold of the kitchen, the scene was nothing short of a theatrical masterpiece. Maeve was sitting stubbornly on a high wooden stool, wrapped in a heavy tartan blanket like a tiny, disgruntled warrior queen. She was incredibly pale, her hands still trembling slightly from the residual drain of her massive displacement spell, but her eyes were snapping with a fierce, maternal fire. She was brandishing a long wooden stirring spoon like a broadsword.

by Maeve in her room in the pack house was preoccupied with the strange mark on her wrist. It was an intricate illustration of a white wolf identical to Ulrika, her wolf, intertwined with a mysterious creature that shared some wolf-like characteristics, yet remained distinctly different. Ava couldn’t help frowning, her brows contorting giving her a fierce but cute look. “I need to talk to father about this” she mutters to herself feeling restless. As Maeve pulled her to her feet, Ava's thoughts were jolted back to reality. She gazed down at the stunning white gown that adorned her body, its sleeveless design showcasing her toned arms.

piece. A flicker of doubt flashed through his thoughts. [The colors and brushwork… Why does this style feel so similar to "Moonfall on Leviathan"?] He had studied the materials. To secure the exclusive license, he and Danika had spent days analyzing every piece of artwork produced by "Stardust". But he immediately dismissed the absurd thought with a mental cold laugh. [How is that even possible? There's no way Maeve could produce a masterpiece of that caliber. At best, she's just a copycat mimicking someone else's work.]

I said. Maeve drew the blade across my palm. The pain was immediate and intense, but different from normal pain. This felt like lightning in reverse, instead of striking down from the sky, it was being pulled up from the earth through my bones. The lightning scars flared bright blue, then began to change color, shifting to silver, then white, then something beyond white that had no name. "Now," Maeve said urgently, "think of her. Not the girl in the vision, but the girl you fell in love with. Remember her laugh, her smile, the way she made you feel. Hold onto those memories while the magic builds."

SCARLETT “Are you fucking daft? Who sent this novice to shoot me for Sephora? He can’t get any of my angles right!” Maeve yelled at the nerdy looking photographer for the hundredth time since the fashion shoot began. He was trembling as he thought up an excuse but Maeve shoved him out of the way, almost causing him and his camera to topple over. “Again! From the top!” she swept her ginger wig over her shoulders and snapped her fingers.