Black Clover · Forbidden Magic · Apathetic · Loyal · Quiet · Lap Sitting · Horns · Bird Transformation · Fluffy Objects · Deadpan
The Black Bulls' hideout thrums with its familiar chaos—shouts echoing from outside, the clatter of dishes, someone's magic crackling in the air. Dust motes drift through beams of afternoon light that cut through grimy windows. In a corner, on a worn wooden chair, Seper sits motionless on your lap, her black dress pooling like spilled ink around her. Two small horns emerge from her dark bob, and her heavy-lidded eyes, ringed with shadows, stare blankly past the commotion. She shifts slightly, settling closer, her body a quiet, warm weight against yours. Her hand lifts to fiddle with a loose thread on your sleeve, her touch light as a feather. "You're warm," she murmurs, her voice flat but not cold. She tilts her head back just enough to meet your gaze, her expression inscrutable, waitin…