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Synopsis; Growing up seeing the world in only greyscale hadn't been exactly easy and now your art professor is requesting you incorporate a new palette of colours into your work. How will you find a way to determine what each hue means to you and how to appropriately represent each when you can't see them in the first place?
Pairing: Heeseung x reader
Genre: College au, soulmate au, fluff, some angst
Characters: Enhypen members
Warnings: Mentions of past death & wounds, connotations to self-harm, hatred towards soulmate bonds (to be added as more emerge)
Start: 06/03/23
Status: Ongoing
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Written
₊ ⊹☼ Prologue - #808080 Grey ₊ ⊹☼ #FAD6A5 Orange
When you just wake up with anxiety and spend all day just trying not to break down... I caffeinated myself as well... not a good choice
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。☀︎⋆ #bee's worldbuilding - Posts with random lore or backgrounds into a world-building project that is developing in my brain ⋆☀︎。
。☀︎⋆ #bee's navigation - Posts that make it easier to navigate my blog so introductions, masterlists, etc. ⋆☀︎。
。☀︎⋆ #bee's rambles - Posts with me talking about whatever comes to mind at the time, often just weird little anecdotes or facts ⋆☀︎。
。☀︎⋆ #bee's masterlist - Post with any writings I post linked ⋆☀︎。
。☀︎⋆ #bee's writing - Posts I've written as fanfiction ⋆☀︎。
。☀︎⋆ #about me - Posts where I've shared something about me ⋆☀︎。
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It's the sudden realisation that attraction is actually a thing that people experience and isn't just 'oh they look cool...' Also like the experience of faking crushes to try and fit in cause I didn't understand why I didn't actually feel anything for anyone.
When you start bawling your eyes out at 3am cause wtf not, like y'all writers on here need to stop. You're all too talented, I don't feel this much emotion in general life, how dare you do this to me??!
*actually I am kinda wondering how does one know if they’re asexual or aromatic?
I mean sexuality is a huge spectrum and everyone experiences it differently meaning people will all have unique experiences. I personally went through multiple labels before I even figured out I was aro/ace.
In my own experience, I figured out I was asexual first, and then aromantic followed a little bit later. A friend at the time was talking about their experience as a lesbian and mentioned feeling gross around like shirtless men and how attracted they were to women and that was when I realised that sexual attraction was an actual physical thing. Like people have a physical response or something, I don't fully understand and probably won't ever. Aromantic for me was more of a I have never experienced crushes and at this point struggle heavily imagining myself in a romantic relationship. Maybe consider how you feel about potential relationships and what is important to you in relation to them. I'm personally incredibly happy with just platonic relationships cause I get everything I could want from them.
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KEY ☾☼ (f) - fluff ☾☼ (a) - angst ☾☼ (c) - comfort ☾☼ (so) - soulmate au ☾☼ (fm) - first meeting
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Enhypen
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Oneshots Jay ☼ The Gig (f) (fm) - 1.02k
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Series Masterlists Heeseung ☼ To Build a Palette (f) (a) (so)
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Seventeen
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Oneshots Jun ☼ Bringing the sun and stars (f) (fm) - 1.27k The8/Minghao ☼ Forget-me-not (f) (a) - 1.67k
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Classification: Sub-Magic Wielder Ranking: S+ Powers: Rapid healing, Clairvoyance Power Explanation: The power they are most well known for is clairvoyance, essentially being able to predict the future. However, what makes this species especially unique is the fact that there is no set way in how they predict it. Some known methods are through dreams, visions, emotions, however, not a lot of information is known about them or the specifics...
Background Info: They are born from stardust, which is what grants them their abilities, due to star dust being magical residue. With it thriving within their very beings, they tend to be incredibly powerful beings. As a result, they are an extremely rare species, very few exist at the same time.
₊ ⊹☼ Prologue - #808080 Grey ☼⊹ ₊ ──────────────────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─────────────────── ₊ ₊ ⊹☼ Pairing: Heeseung x reader ₊ ⊹☼ Synopsis: An introduction to reader's life growing up in grey-scale and how they found their love for art ₊ ⊹☼ Genre: College au, soulmate au, artist reader, colourblind reader ₊ ⊹☼ Word count: 506 ₊ ⊹☼ Warnings: Mentions of death, connotations to self-harm and slight bullying. (Take care to put yourself first) ₊ ⊹☼ A/N: I'll probably post a little explanation of how the soulmate system works in this au, but it does take a backseat for a while to focus on other aspects. ₊ ⊹☼ Masterlist ☼⊹ ₊ ₊ ⊹☼ Next ☼⊹ ₊ ──────────────────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───────────────────
A greyscale world was all you had ever known, there was no vivid pops of colour, just the dulcet hues of light and dark. A sort of smoky look that made the whole world blend into one another and seem to go on for miles and miles. It wasn’t something you minded at first, not knowing any better as a young child, it was like living in an old-fashioned movie and you loved to take pleasure in the soft hues of some of the classics. It was comforting to know everyone could see them the same as you. The pictures moving across the screen and painting stories of romance and life. The slow dance of the decade done in the late foggy night.
However, things change and as you grew up the simple greys changed from clouds to storms and the fog that once encompassed your very being started to suffocate you. Breath didn’t come easily during those years. Things were different and you were different.
It became obvious in the ways whispers followed you around the corridors of school, with fingers pointing at your back and commenting on how unlucky you must be. How maybe you’ll even be so unlucky that you wouldn’t even be able to spot your soulmate link due to your condition.
Because that’s what it was to them, a condition. Achromatopsia. The diagnosis didn’t come as a shock to you but the aftermath scared you more than some word. It was something that left you isolated and alone as others finally had a reason for their hatred. They were so afraid that your unluckiness might somehow rub off on them too.
The greys no longer were slow dancing and fog, but instead were the storm clouds that accompanied your evening walks. The times where the blood dripping down your arms mixed with the pouring rain, leaving in your wake puddles of dismay. The grey of the silver blades that were your closest friend, accompanying your journey and the smoke that left you with one less parent, and sleepless nights.
The smoke that slipped through your fingertips and left behind ashes.
The months afterwards left you confused and more alone than ever, feeling for once like your vision almost reflected how you felt. Numb. You hadn’t been living freely for a while, but those days surviving felt almost impossible.
Solace ended up being found in a place you weren’t expecting at first. An empty sketchbook given by your therapist, where you inked out your monotone dreams and nightmares. It contained it all: the films, the slow dances, the whispers, the stares, the nights, the smoke, the fear, the smoke, the rage, the smoke…
But art allowed you to let go of it all, you could almost pick out these scenes in your brain and place them down to forget about for a while. You weren’t forgetting it all, you never would, but instead letting go became an easier process than before. The once ash covered fingertips made way for charcoal dusted hands.
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₊ ⊹☼ Pairing: The8/Xu Minghao x reader ₊ ⊹☼ Synopsis: Multiple chance encounters across lives, with a soul somehow fated to yours throughout ₊ ⊹☼ Genre: Reincarnation au, slight fantasy/historic au ₊ ⊹☼ Word count: 1.67k ₊ ⊹☼ Warnings: Mentions of death, loss and grief. Minor character death mentions ₊ ⊹☼ A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for a while as I didn't feel that the story was done yet. However, it's at a good point right now to post. Maybe I'll return to add to it further at one point though.
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Loss is an emptiness that eats away at the soul, a metaphorical knife carving it’s design on the surface but leaving behind wounds deep enough to bleed. And the strange thing about loss is you let it. In a sense it’s a sickly beautiful thing to experience as the blood pours out staining over the pure memories and taints them to be forever red. A crimson red that’s the same as the heart that somehow still beats inside your chest, because while it feels like everything should be still, time moves on. Time still encourages hearts to beat and wounds to bleed.
And bleed they do…
Your first loss shouldn’t be considered that actually. There are so many factors that completely contradict it as “the first loss you experienced”. For a start, you had lost people before. A woman who never had the chance to be a mother, your mother, passing away before she got even a second with her child. A young boy, who once you considered a brother, starved under the night sky with his eyes locked onto the moon. After all, Grief was no stranger to your soul. He visited often and settled in your bones like a heavy sick reminder of life.
No, none of these was your first loss. A kind of deep grief, yes, but they felt inevitable somehow.
Your first loss came in a form you never expected. A loss of opportunity and the questions of what could have been. Leaving the first scar of many dotted over your skin.
You didn’t know his name the first time, you barely got to know him at all actually. It was a fleeting moment that stopped the world if just for a second. Even if it was just for you.
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The makeshift grave you created when Chan died was positioned out in a forest glade on the edge of town, giving him the privacy and peace he deserved. An ideal place for him to continue watching the night sky like he did when he was tangible, and now as a star, a place for him to look down on from above. It seems childish now thinking that was how the world worked, that he would stick around for you.
You know better now.
You had been spending the afternoon visiting him, after collecting flowers for your little stall, coming to rest up in the willow tree sheltering the glade from the outside view. The branches allowing you a raised position to look down below, which is how you spotted him initially. This dark haired beauty dressed in clothes that didn’t seem typical for that of normal adventurers. You assumed that’s what he must be, no one else tends to come out that far. Somehow, he had stumbled onto Chan’s clearing though, only the fates may know how, and came to a pause in front of the poorly carved headstone you placed on the first death anniversary. It didn’t matter that there was no body to bury, his memory would live on.
Something about that resonated in this figure’s mind. It wasn’t obvious at first but moments later when you got the first glimpse at his soul-bearing eyes and the way they scanned the words told you all you needed. He was memorising the words, breathing out his very essence into the world and immortalising this time. The phrase you had heard many times before bringing tears to your eyes as it was spoken out loud after a year again.
“The moon sure is lonely tonight”. He was just reading out loud that time, but maybe that’s why it left such an impact. There were no deeper connotations or commitments that suffocated the moment. It was raw and real.
If given the chance of every lifetime, you would chose to return to this moment eternally.
He left not long after that with a new print on his soul in the name of Lee Chan and the fleeting thoughts of a phrase once whispered. It wasn’t until afterwards that you saw the carefully placed bundle of forget-me-nots. Flowers that symbolise memorises and the concept of thinking of loved one ones while one is away. You don’t remember ever have crying as hard as you did that night as you allowed yourself to break down after having repressed everything for a long time. The hope that someone else would continue to think of the young boy and maybe one day return providing a sort of comfort you never realised you needed.
You continued with your routines and visits but never once saw the stranger again. Your first loss came unexpectedly and you couldn’t help but think of what could have happened if things were different. Had Chan been alive to greet him? Had you spoken out to him? Had you got to know him? But you didn’t and so the opportunity passed by and life continued until death came to claim you too.
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What you didn’t expect was the life that came after and the memories that flickered back to you slowly. You could remember it all clearly at first but the more time progressed and lives were lived, the hazier things became. So you wrote to remember. Diary entries inked across pages depicting and detailing each moment and connection you continued to share.
It took you a total of three lives to realise you and your stranger were somehow connected. You seemed destined to spot him under the moonlight over and over again, each time bringing something new for you to note.
However, it was your fourth life that something truly changed, with an opportunity for the two of you to introduce yourselves. A night-time balcony overlooking the palace gardens providing a shared relief from the noise of the party inside. You had yet to see your stranger that lifetime and you certainly weren’t expecting to find him approaching you from behind on his own escape from the ballroom.
Your eyes had found comfort in the solitude of the starlit sky, with a faint recollection of a young voice discussing constellations in great enthusiasm. Your body curled up onto the stone edge with the coldness contrasting to the heat radiating from the party inside. There had been no mention of the balcony being off limits but it seemed abandoned in that moment similar to how you felt. Maybe that is why when you heard the small thuds of footsteps approaching you assumed it was a guard coming to bring you inside. However, as you turned around to face them, your breath stalled inside your throat.
There he was…
Face to face, the moments that followed allowed you both to subtly scan each other’s figures, sharing a second of joint solitude. His clothes reflecting his obviously high social status, yet you naturally found yourself focusing on his deep, knowledgeable eyes. The ones that both equally haunted and comforted your thoughts. Then he spoke and his light voice rung out in a whisper like he was afraid to break the silence.
“I’m sorry for interrupting you, but I needed some time away from the chaos and couldn’t help but notice you out here alone with only the moon for company. You both seemed rather lonely tonight. Would you mind me joining you?”
The paraphrasing of the familiar line rang in your ears as you couldn’t help but tear up and turn back to the full moon in an attempt for comfort.
“Not at all, feel free to join us.”
His figure stepping closer as he approached the balcony edge himself and admired the view before the two of you. It was a comfortable silence that followed, neither of you feeling the need to fill it with meaningless chatter at first. However, as you turned to gain another glance at him, wanting to capture every detail for your writing later on, your gaze fell onto the baby blue flowers that lay in his pocket.
“Forget-me-nots?”
As he turned to meet your eyes, he saw the way they lingered onto his flowers and then noticed the similar ones decorated into your own outfit.
“Hmm, there is something special about the resilience of these little blossoms which bloom in clusters throughout marshy harsh terrain. In a sense I admire the way they manage to preserve and grow with those tough conditions. It’s something I often see reflected in humanity, although, unlike the flowers, not often do people manage to make it full bloom I find.”
The philosophical answer was not one you had expected from him, but certainly wasn’t unwelcome. You had your own greater meanings to the flowers that you shared back with careful consideration, still unsure of if your stranger retained his memories like you. It was something you noted in a previous life where you tried to speak to a different Chan and was left alone once more, that not everyone had the privilege, or was it a curse, to remember like you do.
“For me, they symbolise remembering those who once were but no longer are. A promise to keep the memories of them alive for as long as you live. The stories you experienced and the thoughts you shared allowing a part of them to stay.”
Silence settled back down between the two of you, which is why you could hear the song that started to play out by the band. A slow dance of sorts. In some twist of destiny, he reached his hand out and asked for your hand before the two of you spent time twirling across the balcony. This moment shared only by you two and the sky.
As you came to a close and the clocks chimed to signal an hour passing, with you settled in your stranger’s arms, two names were breathed out into the universe before you parted ways and he disappeared back into the ball.
“Xu Minghao.”
A name meaning brightness and vastness, one that seemed to fit the person you came to spend time with perfectly.
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