Black Clover Fan Art Novels & Stories

Dear Clover, I hope you can now see that I have your whole career in my hands. I will give you one more chance. You have till Friday to reveal you’re Lucky or else I will. I have hundreds of pictures from that night, Clover. By the way, I hope you liked your car, red was a bit dull, so I figured you’d like some more color. You know what they say, make sure you can taste the rainbow. Kisses, Unknown. "Well, I guess I'm going to school as Lucky tomorrow," I said with a sigh. I couldn’t stop the feeling of defeat from sitting on my chest.

and stands up straight from leaning on the bars. Himari stands up too after she makes sure the blanket covered Mizu's body completely and says in a serious manner, " Akane was right, tomorrow she will surely win her fight. Now, at the time had been already quarter to 9 we need to go back to our own room before 10 o'clock," she said looking at the wall clock. Haruto suddenly threw the rest of the cloaks towards them and they easily catch it. The black cloak sways strongly when they start wearing it. On the back, a logo of a terrifying silver dragon with an open mouth was imprinted, indicating they are from East House.

That the braver thing the powerful man could do was to finally stop being fearful. In the penthouse, above the deluge, the two men furthest in the eye of the storm sat in the hushed hum of a city wagging its tongue about them. Jonah reclined on the couch, scrolling through his phone, with a blanket over his knees, a look of constant shock across his features. "Clark," he breathed. "There's fan-art of us… as space explorers. Holding hands on the moon. The caption is 'Love is the final frontier.'" He laughed in amazement. "What's going on?

I can feel cold sensations running all through out my body, radiating like tidal waves. Is it possible that your heart is as cold as dead body? As cold as poles and icy countries? I suspended my hand in the air while holding a paintbrush then I opened my eyes again. I can see blurry images on the paper. A fuzzy elements that showcase a combination of hope and death. These could be my feelings at this moment. My stone cold heart is hoping for nothing. Black and red are the themes of my art. A black rose flower with thorns on its stem. I put some red color on the flower to look like a blood. And the background is black.

he grumbled. The arm of the boom barrier lifted, allowing the van to pass through. That squeak drew instant attention. Euphoria was turned on. Exhilarated fans immediately dashed forward and leaped over the metal barricades. Road safety was no longer applicable at the moment. All they wanted was to get in the view of somebody they admired. Brandon peered to continue driving ahead. Too many things were blocking the windshield, and it was only getting worse. He couldn't see. "Wear this." He extended his hand to the back and gave Clover a black mask. "I don't want the fans to know we have a new member on our team."

A screenshot of a trending tag: #PLANTGIRL My soul left my body and filed a complaint. “Why,” I croaked. “Why would they call her that.” Sienna looked offended on my behalf, which was almost sweet considering she was still convinced it was me. “Because she hid him behind a plant! People love a theme.” I stared at the screen. Someone had made fan art. Not good fan art, more like a doodle of a girl in a hoodie heroically standing beside a potted palm while Jace hovered in the background like a rescued prince.

They clapped at us. I promise you joy all your life Amira. Not anything else. The black canvas in you, that is covered in blood and in darkness, will be colorful from now on. I, Elexier will paint it sweetly with colors, bright ones. We have gone through so many things. And I will save and protect you every time that happens again. If I had to choose between breathing and loving you, I would use my last breath to say, I love you.

Clara’s POV The art room smelled of turpentine and old wood, a blend that usually calmed me, wrapping me in a familiar embrace. But not today. Today, it only heightened the bitterness choking me, clouding the air as I fought to push my emotions onto the canvas. My brush trembled in my grip as I dragged thick black strokes across the canvas, each one heavier than the last, blurring into a chaotic mess that mirrored the storm inside me. My chest felt tight, my throat raw, as the frustration and anger threatened to overflow.

"Is it only right when your kids are in kindergarten?" I sighed. "You know how things are.He can’t go public yet." "What if you get caught now?" Clara’s eyes sparkled. "Can I be your hype man?Can I ship you two in real life? Can I be your secret agent?" I froze, my hand still on my button. I laughed, amused. "Just don’t make trouble." "I promise! I’ll keep it under wraps!" Clara suddenly gasped, grabbing my wrist. "Wait!The artist behind 'Soft and Sweet'—the one who draws the comics—that’s you, right?"

"For everything." "Thank you for being brave enough to come back." Maya stepped forward, a canvas wrapped in brown paper in her hands. "I painted something for you. It's not much—I'm not a professional—but I wanted you to have it." Clara unwrapped the canvas. It was a painting of the twins—Emory and Colt, sitting together under the old oak tree, their heads bent close as if sharing a secret. The colors were soft and warm, and the love in the image was unmistakable.