Author vines
3 stories
The Space Between Seven | ENHYPEN⁷ by noireve23
noireve23
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌, 𝒘𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒌𝒚. ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ Seven names stood together. Then one was suddenly gone. Heeseung was the oldest. The one who had been there from the beginning. The familiar voice, the steady presence, a part of ENHYPEN that seemed impossible to separate from the group itself. Until everything changed. What follows is not a story about one goodbye. It is about the six who were left behind, the questions that never received answers, the things left unsaid, and the memories that refuse to become memories. Because sometimes, losing someone doesn't mean their story ends. Sometimes, their absence becomes the loudest thing in the room. "Six members. One missing piece. And an echo that refuses to fade." --- **DISCLAIMER** This story is a work of imagination. The only real-life event referenced in this story is Heeseung's departure from ENHYPEN. Everything else - including the events, circumstances, beliefs, interpretations, relationships, conversations, and storyline surrounding his departure and what follows after it - is entirely fictional and should not be taken as a representation of reality. This story is written with no intention of disrespecting Heeseung, ENHYPEN, their members, BELIFT LABS, HYBE Labels, or anyone involved. (BELIFT LABS and HYBE Labels, however, are respectfully excluded from the "no disrespect" part. The disrespect is, in fact, intentional.) It is dedicated to all the ENGENEs who are devastated by Heeseung leaving ENHYPEN. For everyone who is still trying to process the goodbye.
𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑬𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒔: 𝑲𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝑺𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒔 | 𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝑷𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 by noireve23
noireve23
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༺═───────────═༻ "ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ʜᴀꜱ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʏɪᴇʟᴅᴇᴅ. ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ɪᴛ ᴍᴇᴛ ɪᴛꜱ ᴋᴇᴇᴘᴇʀ." ༺═───────────═༻ 𝘖𝘯𝘤𝘦, in a year better forgotten, the world lost three people it loved and gained one it didn't know to look for. 𝘖𝘯𝘤𝘦, a man who broke nothing was punished for everything. 𝘖𝘯𝘤𝘦, a mother spent her last heartbeat making sure her daughter would have a first one of her own. And once - only once - a voice that didn't belong to anyone living spoke four words into the dark and was never heard again. 𝘌𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴. It means something. No one alive remembers what. She was born to the wrong night and the right blood. She grew up half-loved by the right people and wholly haunted by the wrong story. She thought she knew how it ended. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵. Now the soulless pause when she walks past - as if some buried scrap of them still remembers what it felt like to want something. The Veil has begun saying her name in a voice that isn't quite its own. And somewhere far beneath everything already buried, something ancient is starting, slowly, to wake - because of her. There is a boy beside her who already knows what it costs to survive the unsurvivable. There is a family built instead of given. There is a question so old it forgot it was ever asked. Some gifts save you and ruin you in equal measure. Death has never lost. 𝘜𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘸. Disclaimer: All images used in this fanfiction are sourced from Pinterest. Full credit and rights belong to their respective original creators & Pinterest accounts. All rights to the Harry Potter universe and characters belong to J.K. Rowling & Warner Bros. All original characters (OCs), plotlines, and story developments introduced in this work are my own creative ideas.
The Art of Growing Up Too Soon by noireve23
noireve23
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"Nobody tells you that growing up means losing people. Losing parts of yourself. Losing the certainty you once had." These are little notes and poems about love, loss, fear, and becoming someone new. I have made mistakes. I have been immature. I have been wrong more times than I can count. But in those mistakes, I learned something important that is we are not alone in our failures. There are people out there who understand what it feels like to regret, to overthink, to wish you had done better. And being understood like that feels like comfort. This is for those who have been there, and for those who may be there someday. Not as judgment, but as understanding. Not as perfection, but as growth.