⤷ W KOREA 2016 July Issue “EXOCLUSIVE” - Each of the nine members of EXO were paired with nine different, well-respected photographers, and each pair worked with a different concept.
fic authors self rec! when you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. let's spread the self-love 💗
🦉@owlsfeatherpen: Oh! Thank you for this! It's so hard sometimes to be positive about my writing, so this will be good for me.
I really have to thank about it though.
Especially because some of my favorites aren't even online yet.
Actually...I only have 5 online right now...hmm
I guess I can just say what I love about each one.
In no particular order:
Scribbles of Courage has been so fun to write. I love consuming sweet fluffy romances, but it can be so hard for me to write sometimes. I can't write from experience in this area, only from consuming similar content. So, that often makes me self-conscious when I write it. But, I think this one has really helped me realize that I'm not bad at that style of writing, and actually really enjoy it. There are a lot of aspects that I've pulled from some of my favorite dramas, like Romance is a Bonus Book. I'm working on the final two chapters and I will be sad to finish this one.
In a similar vein, Our Memories Carved into the Seasons has some of those fluffy elements. While there are aspects I sometimes wish I could change when I reread, I am happy with it overall. I want to write more cute date scenes throughout The Sky that Doesn't End, but I fear they will be few and far between. I fear most of the romances in this series will have tragic storylines.
As I'm sure you can see from Starlit Destiny, and the rest of The Sky that Doesn't End, I do enjoy writing angst quite a bit. But that's for it to be followed by healing. Gotta love that hurt/comfort trope.
Writing Overdose was so hard, but I thoroughly enjoyed writing the final chapter, as Power was one of the mvs that got me into kpop. Taking the mvs/vcrs/other content and trying to make sense of them in written format. I had fun working out why Sehun what shooting randomly. I promise he has good aim. He just needs the right weapon.
Pathcode was hard as well. But I think it turned out so well. Maybe the most satisfied with it overall since there was so little to go off of.
Starlit Destiny is currently my favorite. I love pirates and pirate themed things. The first writing I ever took seriously was an original pirate story. One day I hope you go back to it and actually get it published. But for now, fanfics are helping me grow as a writing.
Thank you for listening to me yap!
And thank you @onwardintolight for sending in this ask! I've always appreciated your support in this writing adventure. Don't know where I'd be without it.
I can't wait to start publishing some of the other projects I've worked on. I look forward to traumatizing I mean sharing.
pairing : jedi knight! seonghwa x padawan! fem! reader
synopsis : Two Jedi form a forbidden bond that grows into something real and impossible to ignore. Forced apart by duty, they choose not to let go—only to find each other again, somewhere in the stars.
genre : slice of life, romance, fluff, star wars au, angst, slow-burn, forbidden love, sci-fi, emotional drama
warnings : none
author’s note : HAPPY HWA DAY ‼️🩷 im literally so late omg 😭 idrk much star wars lore but i tried my best for this so if it feels weird please understand 🙏 hope yall enjoy 🫶
word count : 5.9k
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The Jedi Temple is never truly quiet.
Even in stillness, there is sound—robes brushing polished stone, distant footsteps echoing through endless halls, the low hum of lightsabers being trained within far-off chambers.
Life pulses here, disciplined and restrained, guided by the Force like a current beneath everything.
You have lived in it for as long as you can remember.
And yet—
Tonight feels different.
You sit cross-legged in the meditation room, eyes closed, palms resting on your knees. The Force flows around you, steady and familiar, something you’ve learned to trust more than your own thoughts.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Let go.
That’s what your master always says.
Let go of distraction. Let go of desire. Let go of anything that pulls you away from balance.
You try. You really do.
But something tugs.
Faint at first—like a ripple across still water.
Then stronger. Warmer.
Your brows knit slightly.
This… isn’t part of your meditation.
It’s not the quiet, all-encompassing peace of the Force you’ve been taught to recognize.
It’s something else. Something specific.
Your eyes open.
The moment you do, the feeling sharpens—like a thread being pulled taut between you and something just beyond your reach.
Or someone. A presence.
Bright. Steady. Unfamiliar.
And yet, somehow, it doesn’t feel like a stranger.
Your heart stutters. That’s not supposed to happen.
The Force is not meant to feel like this—not personal, not warm in a way that settles in your chest and refuses to leave.
You push yourself to your feet.
You should ignore it. You will ignore it.
You take one step toward the door.
And then another.
And then—
You’re walking faster than you mean to.
The Council Chamber doors are already open when you arrive.
That’s unusual. More unusual still—
You were not summoned.
Yet the moment you step inside, your master’s gaze snaps to you immediately, sharp and knowing.
“Padawan.”
You freeze mid-step.
“…Master.”
There’s no point pretending you just happened to wander here.
Not when the Force is still pulling at you, stronger now, guiding your attention—
To him.
Standing near the center of the chamber.
Still and composed. Radiating that same warmth you felt during meditation.
A Jedi Knight.
You don’t know his name yet. But somehow, the Force does.
Your breath catches, just slightly.
He’s… not what you expected.
There’s a quietness to him—not the distant, untouchable kind many Knights carry, but something softer. Grounded. Like he’s fully present in every moment he exists in.
And when his eyes meet yours—
The pull snaps into place.
Clear. Undeniable.
Like something in the galaxy just decided.
There you are.
You forget how to breathe.
“Padawan,” your master repeats, more firmly this time. “Step forward.”
Your body obeys before your thoughts can catch up.
Each step echoes louder than it should.
You stop beside your master, bowing your head in respect—but your awareness is elsewhere.
It’s on him.
“Jedi Knight Seonghwa has recently returned from the Mid Rim,” one of the Council members begins. “His experience will be valuable for the assignment ahead.”
Assignment. Right.
You should be focusing.
You force yourself to listen, to stay grounded.
“The Outer Rim territories are growing increasingly unstable. Negotiations have failed. We suspect separatist influence.”
War. Conflict. Danger. Normal. Familiar.
You’ve trained for this.
“And so,” your master continues, “you will accompany Knight Seonghwa as part of this mission.”
Your head lifts slightly before you can stop yourself.
Accompany him.
The Force flickers—almost like it’s pleased.
You swallow.
“An honor,” you manage, voice steady despite the chaos in your chest.
Your gaze shifts, just for a second—
And he’s already looking at you.
There’s no surprise in his expression. No confusion.
Only something quiet. Soft.
Like he felt it too.
“Please,” he says, inclining his head slightly. “Just Seonghwa.”
Your name sits unspoken between you.
But somehow—
It feels like he already knows it.
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The ship leaves at dawn.
You tell yourself it’s just another mission.
You’ve done this before—packed your belongings, prepared your gear, reviewed strategies until they become instinct. There’s comfort in routine.
Predictability. Control.
So why does everything feel slightly off?
You tighten the straps of your bag, double-checking its contents even though you already know everything is in place.
Focus.
That’s what you need. Not whatever this is.
You step into the hangar.
Ships line the platform, mechanics moving efficiently between them. The air smells faintly of fuel and metal.
“There you are.”
You don’t even have to turn around.
Your body reacts before your mind does—heartbeat quickening, breath catching just slightly.
You do turn, eventually.
And there he is.
Seonghwa.
Closer now than before.
No Council chamber distance to soften his presence. No formal setting to dull the way the Force hums around him.
Up close, he’s even warmer.
Not physically. Something deeper.
Something that makes your chest feel… full.
“You weren’t at the morning briefing,” he says, tilting his head slightly.
There’s no accusation in it. Just observation.
“I reviewed the reports last night,” you reply. “There was no need.”
His lips curve, just barely.
A smile.
You weren’t prepared for that.
“I see,” he says. “Efficient.”
You don’t know why that makes your cheeks warm.
“I try to be.”
Silence settles between you. But it’s not uncomfortable.
It’s… easy. Which is worse.
Because it shouldn’t be.
You clear your throat. “We should board soon.”
“We should,” he agrees.
Neither of you moves.
The Force lingers.
Gentle. Curious. Like it’s waiting.
“For what?” you almost want to ask.
Instead, you turn first.
Because you know better.
The ship is quiet once you’re in hyperspace.
Too quiet. Or maybe you’re just more aware now.
Every shift in the Force feels amplified. Every small movement echoes louder.
You try to meditate again.
It’s what you’re supposed to do. What you’ve always done.
But the moment you close your eyes—
He’s there. Not physically.
But in the Force. A steady presence just beyond your reach.
You exhale slowly.
This is a problem.
You can’t focus like this. You open your eyes again.
And of course—
Of course he’s standing in the doorway.
Watching you.
You freeze.
He doesn’t move.
“Am I interrupting?” he asks quietly.
Yes. No.
You don’t know.
“…No,” you say finally.
He steps inside, slow and deliberate, like he’s giving you time to ask him to leave. You don’t.
He sits across from you, mirroring your posture.
For a moment, neither of you speaks.
You’re both just… there. Existing in the same space. Feeling the same current.
“This is new for you too, isn’t it?” he says eventually.
You hesitate.
Then—honesty, for once.
“Yes.”
His shoulders relax, just slightly.
“Good.”
You blink. “Good?”
A faint smile tugs at his lips again.
“I was beginning to think I had lost my sense of control.”
You stare at him.
“You feel it that strongly?”
He meets your gaze. There’s no hesitation.
“No.”
A pause.
“Stronger.”
Your breath catches. That shouldn’t make your chest feel warm. It definitely shouldn’t make you smile.
But it does. Just a little.
And when he sees it, his expression softens in a way that makes something inside you ache.
“This is a bad idea,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him.
“Probably,” he agrees easily.
You huff out a quiet breath. That wasn’t the response you expected.
“You’re not going to argue?”
“I could,” he says, tilting his head. “But I don’t think either of us would listen.”
He’s not wrong.
Silence again.
You study him for a moment before you can stop yourself.
“Why did you become a Jedi?” you ask suddenly.
The question slips out without warning. He doesn’t seem surprised.
“I was taken in young,” he says. “Like most of us.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
His gaze flickers, curious.
“You had a choice,” you continue. “At some point.”
Everyone does.
Stay. Leave. Commit.
Or don’t.
“…I stayed,” he says simply.
“That’s not an answer.”
A pause.
“Because I believed in it,” he says quietly. “In balance. In helping people. In something bigger than myself.”
You watch him carefully.
“And now?”
His gaze shifts slightly—back to you.
“Now,” he says, softer, “I’m trying to understand what the Force is telling me.”
Your chest tightens. Because you already know what he means.
And that… that’s dangerous.
You look away first.
“We should rest,” you say.
A deflection.
He notices. But he doesn’t push.
“Alright.”
He stands, pausing for just a moment—
Like he wants to say something else.
He doesn’t.
“Goodnight,” he says instead.
“…Goodnight.”
He leaves.
And somehow, the room feels emptier than it did before.
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The next day, something changes.
It starts small.
A shared glance. A quiet understanding during mission prep.
A brush of fingers when you both reach for the same datapad.
You pull back immediately. But the contact lingers.
Electric.
You expect him to step away.
To create distance. To remind you of what this is. What it isn’t allowed to be.
He doesn’t.
Instead, he just looks at you.
Soft. Warm.
Like the galaxy isn’t burning just beyond this moment.
“You can have it,” he says, nodding toward the datapad.
“I don’t need it,” you reply quickly.
“You reached for it first.”
“So did you.”
He smiles again.
And this time, it’s brighter. You feel it like sunlight.
“Then we’ll share.”
You blink.
“That’s not standard protocol.”
“No,” he agrees. “It isn’t.”
And yet—
He doesn’t let go. Neither do you.
And for a moment—
It feels like something simple.
Something normal.
Something you were never meant to have.
Later, when you’re alone again, you sit with that feeling.
Turning it over in your mind.
Careful. Cautious. Afraid to name it.
Because once you do—
You won’t be able to pretend anymore.
And the truth is already there.
Quiet. Unavoidable.
Growing stronger with every shared glance, every soft word, every moment that feels too easy.
Too right.
You’re starting to like him.
And that might be the most dangerous thing of all.
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The planet greets you with dust and heat.
It clings to everything—the air, your robes, your skin—like the world itself is tired of being fought over.
Outer Rim planets are always like this.
Worn down. Forgotten.
Left to survive whatever the galaxy throws at them.
You step off the ship beside Seonghwa, boots sinking slightly into the uneven ground. The horizon stretches endlessly, broken only by crumbling structures and the distant hum of machinery struggling to keep up with a failing system.
“This place…” you murmur.
“Has been holding its breath for a long time,” Seonghwa finishes quietly.
You glance at him.
He’s already observing everything—guards stationed too tightly, civilians moving too carefully, tension woven into every corner like a wire pulled too taut.
“You can feel it,” you say.
It’s not a question. He nods.
“The Force is… strained here.”
That’s one way to put it.
To you, it feels like standing in the middle of a storm that hasn’t decided when to break.
And somehow—
Standing next to him makes it easier to breathe.
You hate that. You really do.
Because it means you’re already relying on him more than you should.
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The negotiations don’t go well.
They never do.
Voices rise quickly, anger simmering just beneath the surface. The local leaders argue over resources, over control, over survival—each word sharper than the last.
You stand behind your master, posture straight, expression neutral.
A Jedi does not interfere unless necessary. A Jedi observes.
Listens. Waits.
But your attention—
Your attention drifts.
Not away from the situation. Never that.
But… sideways. To him.
Seonghwa stands a few steps away, calm despite the chaos, hands folded neatly in front of him. His gaze moves between the speakers, attentive, calculating.
But every so often—
It flickers to you.
Quick. Subtle.
Like he’s checking that you’re still there. That you’re okay.
It shouldn’t matter to you. It really shouldn’t.
And yet, when one of the delegates slams their hand against the table, voice rising in frustration—
Your shoulders tense. And Seonghwa’s gaze snaps to you instantly.
Not to the conflict.
You.
Your eyes meet for half a second. And something passes between you.
Not words. Not even a thought.
I’ve got you.
You exhale slowly, tension easing before you even realize it.
This is really dangerous. You know it is.
But the Force hums softly, like it approves.
It’s late by the time you return to your temporary quarters.
The building assigned to the Jedi is barely holding together—cracked walls, dim lighting, the faint buzz of unstable electricity. It’s not comfortable, but you’ve stayed in worse.
You sit on the edge of your cot, pulling off your gloves slowly.
Your mind should be on the mission.
On strategy. On the next steps.
Instead—
It replays small things.
The way he stood slightly closer when tensions rose. The way his presence seemed to steady yours without effort.
The way your thoughts keep drifting back to him like they’ve already learned the path.
You press your palms against your eyes.
“This is a problem,” you whisper.
The Force offers no argument.
If anything, it feels amused.
A soft knock breaks the silence.
Your heart stumbles. You already know who it is.
“Come in,” you say, before you can second-guess it.
The door slides open, and Seonghwa steps inside.
He looks… softer like this.
Without the formal setting. Without the constant watch of others.
Just him.
“I wanted to check on you,” he says.
Your chest tightens.
“I’m fine.”
He tilts his head slightly.
“You say that a lot.”
“…Because it’s true.”
“Is it?”
You hesitate. And that’s answer enough.
He steps closer, slow and careful, like approaching something fragile.
“You were tense earlier,” he says. “During negotiations.”
“That’s normal.”
“Yes,” he agrees. “But you didn’t relax until…”
He trails off. You don’t need him to finish.
“Until you looked at me,” he says softly.
Your breath catches. You look away.
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Doesn’t it?”
You swallow.
“It means I was refocusing.”
“On me.”
“That’s not—”
“You can be honest,” he interrupts gently. “At least with me.”
That’s the problem. You don’t know how to lie to him. Not properly.
Not when he looks at you like that—like he’s not judging, not expecting, just… listening.
“I felt… steadier,” you admit finally.
The words are quiet. Barely there.
But they hang between you like something fragile.
He doesn’t smile this time. Doesn’t tease.
He just nods.
“I felt it too.”
Your gaze flickers back to his.
“You did?”
He takes another step closer. Now there’s barely any space between you.
“Yes,” he says. “Like everything else faded for a moment.”
Your heart is beating too fast.
“That’s not how the Force is supposed to work.”
“Maybe not,” he says. “But it’s how it works with you.”
You don’t know what to do with that.
So you do nothing. You just… stand there.
Feeling it.
The pull. The warmth.
The quiet understanding that seems to exist only when you’re near each other.
“You should rest,” you say eventually, even though you don’t want him to leave.
He nods.
But he doesn’t move right away.
“Goodnight,” he says softly.
“…Goodnight.”
He turns. Pauses.
Then glances back.
And for a split second—
You think he might say something more.
He doesn’t. He leaves.
And you’re left standing there, staring at the door long after it closes.
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The next day is worse.
Because now, you’re aware of everything.
You train together in the courtyard, away from prying eyes.
At least—that’s the excuse.
“Your footing is off,” he says, circling you slowly.
You narrow your eyes. “It is not.”
“It is,” he replies calmly. “You’re leaning too much on your back leg.”
“I’m adjusting for the terrain.”
“You’re compensating.”
You huff.
“Show me, then.”
A mistake.
The moment the words leave your mouth, you realize what you’ve done.
Because now—
He steps closer. Much closer.
“Alright,” he says softly.
His hand rests lightly on your waist.
Everything stops.
Your breath. Your thoughts. The world.
It’s such a simple touch. Barely anything.
Guiding. Innocent.
But the moment it happens—
The Force surges.
Warm. Bright. Overwhelming.
“Here,” he murmurs, gently shifting your stance. “You need to center yourself.”
You can’t focus.
Not when his hand is still there. Not when his voice is that close. Not when your entire body is suddenly aware of him in a way it has no right to be.
“Like this?” you manage, voice quieter than intended.
“Mm,” he hums softly.
Too soft.
You risk a glance at him. He’s already looking at you.
Of course he is.
Your faces are too close. You didn’t even realize when that happened.
“Better,” he says.
But he doesn’t move away.
Neither do you.
The moment stretches.
Fragile. Dangerous.
The Force hums between you, almost… content. Like this is how it’s supposed to be.
“Seonghwa—”
Your voice barely comes out. He exhales slowly.
“I know.”
But he still doesn’t let go.
And for a moment—
You let yourself lean into it.
Just a little. Just enough to feel what it’s like to not pull away.
To not resist. To just to be.
It doesn’t last. Of course it doesn’t.
A distant explosion breaks the moment. Reality crashes back in.
You step apart immediately. So does he.
The connection snaps—but not completely.
You both turn toward the sound.
Duty comes first.
“Stay close,” he says.
You nod.
The attack comes fast.
Blaster fire cuts through the air, chaos erupting across the settlement. Civilians scatter, guards shouting over each other as everything dissolves into panic.
You move on instinct.
Deflect. Push. Protect.
But this time, you’re not alone. You feel him beside you before you see him.
Your movements sync without thought.
You turn—he covers. He advances—you follow.
The Force flows between you like it recognizes the pattern. Like it’s been waiting for this.
“Left!” you call.
He’s already there.
“Behind you.”
You spin, blocking just in time.
It’s seamless. Effortless. Terrifyingly natural.
And in the middle of all that chaos, you find yourself smiling.
Because this.
This feels right.
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At some point, you get separated.
It happens quickly. Too quickly.
One moment he’s there.
And the next. He’s not.
Your chest tightens immediately.
“Seonghwa?” you call, deflecting another bolt.
No response.
The Force flickers. Distant. Muffled.
Your heart starts racing.
No.
No, no—
You push forward, cutting through the chaos, searching.
And then—
You feel him.
Strong. Steady.
You turn—
And there he is. Across the rubble. Looking at you like he’s been searching too.
For a second—
Neither of you moves.
You both exhale at the same time. Relief floods the connection.
Warm. Overwhelming.
You make your way back to each other quickly.
“Are you alright?” he asks immediately.
“I should be asking you that.”
“I’m fine.”
“You say that a lot.”
He blinks. Then laughs.
Soft. Breathless.
You didn’t know Jedi Knights could sound like that. You didn’t know he could sound like that. It does something strange to your chest.
“You remembered,” he says.
“Of course I did.”
The words come out too easily. Too naturally.
His expression softens.
And for a moment—
The battle fades again. Just a little.
Later, when everything settles—
When the fires die down and the night grows quiet again, you sit beside each other on the edge of a broken structure, watching the stars.
No words. Just… presence.
Your shoulders brush. Neither of you move away.
“You were worried,” he says eventually.
You glance at him.
“So were you.”
He doesn’t deny it. A pause.
“I don’t think this is something we can ignore anymore,” he admits.
Your chest tightens.
“I know.”
“But I also don’t think…” he hesitates, searching for the right words, “that it’s something we need to fear.”
You let that settle.
The Force hums softly around you, like it agrees.
“Maybe not fear,” you say slowly. “But… caution.”
“That too.”
Another quiet moment passes.
Then, without thinking, your hand brushes against his.
But this time, you don’t pull away. Neither does he.
Your fingers rest there.
Light. Careful.
But real. So, so real.
And for the first time, you let yourself have it.
Just this. Just now. Just him.
Because tomorrow—
You might not be able to.
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The nights become your favorite part.
That, in itself, is dangerous.
Because nights are when things slip. When rules soften at the edges. When silence stretches long enough for feelings to grow where they shouldn’t.
And lately, every night seems to end the same way.
With him.
It starts without intention.
At least, that’s what you tell yourself.
You just happen to stay out a little longer after patrol. He just happens to finish his duties at the same time.
You both just happen to end up in the same place. That broken structure overlooking the settlement, where the stars feel closer than they should.
At first, you sit apart. A respectful distance.
Careful. Measured.
But slowly, over time, that distance disappears.
Tonight is no different.
You arrive first.
The sky is clearer than usual, scattered with stars that shimmer faintly through the lingering dust in the atmosphere. The air is cooler, quieter—the kind of stillness that only comes after chaos.
You sit on the edge, knees drawn slightly inward, watching the horizon.
You don’t have to wait long. You feel him before you hear him.
That steady warmth in the Force. That familiar pull.
“You always get here before me.”
His voice is soft as he approaches. You don’t turn right away.
“I like the quiet.”
A pause.
Then—
“So do I.”
He sits beside you.
Close. Closer than before.
Your shoulders brush lightly.
Neither of you acknowledges it. But neither of you moves away.
For a while, you just sit there.
No words. Just breathing. Existing next to each other.
“This feels wrong,” you murmur eventually.
You don’t know why you say it.
Maybe because if you don’t, you’llforget.
“Does it?” he asks.
There’s no judgment in his tone. Just quiet curiosity.
“Yes,” you say. “We shouldn’t be… like this.”
“Like what?”
You hesitate. You could pretend you don’t know what he means. But that would be a lie.
“…Close.”
The word feels too small for what this is.
He hums softly.
“But we are.”
You exhale, almost a laugh.
“That’s not helping.”
“Wasn’t meant to.”
You glance at him.
There’s something gentle in his expression tonight. Softer than usual.
“Then what is meant to help?” you ask.
He considers that for a moment.
“This.”
Before you can react—
His hand shifts slightly, brushing against yours again.
Not accidental this time. Intentional.
Your breath catches.
The contact is light. Barely there.
But the Force—
The Force flares.
Warmth spreads through your chest, down your arms, settling somewhere deep and quiet inside you.
It doesn’t feel overwhelming anymore.
It feels…right.
“You’re not pulling away,” he notes softly.
“I know.”
“…Why?”
You swallow.
Because that’s the question, isn’t it?
The one you’ve been avoiding. The one you don’t want to answer out loud. Because once you do, there’s no going back.
“I’m tired,” you say instead.
He tilts his head slightly.
“Tired?”
“Of pretending I don’t feel this,” you admit quietly.
The words hang between you.
Fragile. Honest.
He doesn’t speak immediately.
But his fingers shift. Just slightly.
Hooking with yours.
You inhale sharply.
It’s such a small thing. Holding hands.
Something simple. Something normal. Something you’ve never had.
Your grip tightens before you can stop yourself.
You expect him to let go.
But he doesn’t. Instead, his thumb brushes lightly against the back of your hand.
Soft. Careful. Like he’s learning you.
Your chest aches.
“Seonghwa…” you whisper.
“I know,” he says again.
But this time—
His voice sounds a little less certain.
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The days start to blur together after that.
Because once you cross that line—evenjust a little—it’s harder to go back.
It’s in the small things.
The quiet ones. The ones no one else notices.
But you do.
He stands a little closer during briefings.
Not enough to draw attention. But enough that your shoulders almost touch. Enough that you can feel his presence without even looking.
He hands you things instead of setting them down.
A datapad. A tool.
Your lightsaber once.
Your fingers brushed every time. Lingering just a second longer than necessary.
He looks for you. Constantly.
In every room. In every crowd.
And when he finds you—
There’s always that small, almost imperceptible shift in the Force.
Like something settling into place.
And there are the quiet moments.
“You’re overthinking again.”
You glance up from where you’re sitting, frowning slightly.
“I am not.”
Seonghwa raises an eyebrow.
“You’ve been staring at the same line for five minutes.”
You look back at the datapad. He isn’t wrong.
“I’m analyzing,” you correct.
“You’re spiraling.”
“I am not spiraling.”
He hums, unconvinced, and moves closer—
Close enough that you can feel the warmth of him at your side.
“Here,” he says, reaching over.
His hand covers yours briefly as he scrolls the datapad.
You freeze.
He doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he does, and he’s pretending not to.
“This section,” he continues, voice soft and focused, “you’re reading it too literally.”
You try to concentrate. You really do.
But it’s difficult when his hand is still resting over yours. When his shoulder is brushing against yours.
When your entire awareness is split between the mission and the way your heart won’t stop racing.
“You’re not listening,” he murmurs.
“I am.”
“You’re not.”
You sigh, closing your eyes briefly.
“Okay, maybe I’m not.”
A soft laugh escapes him.
It makes something in your chest ache in a completely different way.
“You’re impossible,” he says.
“You’re distracting.”
“That’s not my fault.”
“It absolutely is.”
He smiles. And it lingers.
It happens again that night.
You don’t mean for it to. You don’t plan it.
But somehow—
You end up back there.
Together. Under the stars.
“Do you ever think about leaving?”
The question slips out before you can stop it. Seonghwa turns slightly, surprised.
“Leaving the Order?”
You nod.
He’s quiet for a moment.
“No.”
You look at him.
“Not even once?”
He shakes his head.
“I’ve thought about… change,” he says carefully. “About whether the Order always understands the Force the way it should.”
That doesn’t surprise you.
“But leaving?” he continues. “No.”
Your chest tightens.
“Why?”
He looks at you.
And something shifts. Something deeper.
“Because everything I’ve ever known is tied to it,” he says. “My purpose. My identity.”
A pause.
“And now?”
You don’t know why you ask. Maybe you do.
His gaze doesn’t waver.
“Now,” he says softly, “it’s more complicated.”
Your breath catches.
“Because of this?” you whisper.
He nods.
“Because of you.”
The world goes very, very quiet. You stare at him.
Your heart is pounding so loudly you’re sure he can hear it.
“You shouldn’t say things like that,” you murmur.
“But it’s true.”
“That doesn’t make it safe.”
“I don’t want to be safe.”
The words hit harder than anything else he’s said. You shake your head slightly.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do.”
His voice is steady. Certain.
“I want it to be real.”
Your chest aches.
Because this. This is real.
And that’s exactly why it’s going to hurt.
“Seonghwa…” you start, but the words won’t come.
He shifts closer. Slowly.
Giving you time to stop him. You don’t.
He lifts his hand. Then gently tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
Your breath stutters. The touch lingers.
Just for a second. But it feels like forever.
“You feel it too,” he says quietly.
It’s not a question.
You nod.
“Yes.”
The word is fragile. But it’s enough.
It’s everything.
For a moment—
Everything aligns.
The war. The rules. The expectations.
They all fade into the background.
And there’s just this.
Just you. Just him.
Just the space between you that’s slowly, inevitably disappearing.
His hand doesn’t drop. It stays near your face. Like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he moves too quickly.
Your heart is racing.
You should stop this. You should step back.
You should remember who you are. What you are. What this will cost.
But instead—
You lean in. Just slightly. Just enough that your forehead almost brushes his.
His breath catches. So does yours.
“Is this a mistake?” you whisper.
He doesn’t answer right away.
Instead, he closes the distance.
Barely. Just enough that your foreheads touch.
“No,” he breathes.
And for the first time.
You believe it.
You stay like that for a while.
Foreheads pressed together. Breathing the same air. Sharing the same space.
The same moment.
Until reality creeps back in.
You pull away first. You have to.
Because if you don’t, you won’t stop.
“We can’t keep doing this,” you whisper.
His expression softens.
“I know.”
“But we will,” you add, almost helplessly.
A faint smile tugs at his lips.
“Probably.”
You huff out a quiet breath.
This is a disaster. A beautiful, soft, inevitable disaster.
And deep down, you both know—
It’s only a matter of time before something breaks.
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
─────────
You don’t mean to stay in his arms that long.
At least—
That’s what you tell yourself.
But the moment you relax against him, something in your chest finally settles in a way it hasn’t in days—maybe longer.
Maybe since before you even realized what this was.
Seonghwa doesn’t rush you.
He doesn’t tighten his hold or pull you closer like he could.
He just… stays.
Like he’s giving you space even while holding you.
And somehow—
That makes it harder to let go.
“You’re going to make this impossible,” you murmur into his shoulder.
His hand shifts slightly at your back, thumb brushing once—absentminded, gentle.
“I think it already is.”
You huff a quiet breath.
“That’s not comforting.”
“It’s honest.”
You pull back just enough to look at him.
Your hands are still lightly gripping the fabric of his robes. You don’t remember when you grabbed onto him.
You don’t let go.
“You’re too calm about this,” you say.
“I’m not calm,” he replies softly.
You blink.
“You’re not?”
A small, almost disbelieving smile touches his lips.
“I just don’t panic in the same way you do.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“It shouldn’t be.”
You both fall quiet again.
But it’s not awkward. Not anymore. Not like before.
Now—
Everything feels… known.
Your gaze lingers on him longer than it should.
Tracing familiar things you’ve started to memorize without realizing.
The curve of his lips. The softness in his eyes when he looks at you.
Like you’re something precious. Something important. Something he doesn’t want to lose.
Your chest tightens.
“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” you whisper.
“Like what?”
“Like I matter more than I should.”
He doesn’t even hesitate.
“You do.”
The words land softly.
But they echo.
Loud. Heavy. Unavoidable.
“Seonghwa…”
His name feels different now.
Warmer. Closer.
Yours.
“I mean it,” he says, quieter this time. “This isn’t something small to me. It’s not just—” he exhales, searching, “—a distraction. Or a moment.”
You swallow.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
You nod. Because you do.
You feel it every time the Force shifts when he’s near. Every time your thoughts drift back to him without permission.
Every time you try to let go. And fail miserably.
“That’s why this is so dangerous,” you say.
“Or maybe that’s why it’s worth it.”
You shake your head slightly.
“You’re supposed to be the rational one.”
“I am,” he says.
A pause.
“This is me being rational.”
That makes you laugh softly.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Silence settles again.
But this time—
It feels different. Heavier.
Like something is building.
Something inevitable.
“We’re running out of time.”
The words slip out before you can stop them.
Seonghwa stills.
“I know.”
“They’re going to separate us.”
“I know.”
“And if they don’t—”
“They will.”
Your chest tightens.
Because there’s no fighting that truth.
“So this is it?” you ask quietly.
His gaze sharpens.
“No.”
“Seonghwa—”
“No,” he repeats, firmer this time. “This doesn’t have to be where it ends.”
“Then where does it end?” you ask, voice trembling slightly. “Because I don’t see a version of this where we don’t lose something.”
“We already knew that,” he says softly.
“That doesn’t make it easier.”
“No,” he agrees. “But it makes it real.”
You look at him.
At the certainty in his eyes. At the way he’s choosing this.
Choosing you.
Even after knowing the cost. And something in you shifts.
Because you’ve been afraid this whole time.
Afraid of what this means. Afraid of what you might lose.
Afraid of falling for him.
But you’re already falling. You have been. For a while now.
“I don’t want to regret this,” you whisper.
“You won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“How?”
He lifts his hand slowly. His fingers brush your cheek.
Warm. Gentle. Reassuring.
“Because I already don’t regret you.”
Your breath catches.
And suddenly, everything becomes very clear.
There is no safe version of this. No version where you walk away untouched. No version where this doesn’t matter.
So maybe—just maybe—
The choice isn’t about avoiding the fall. Maybe it’s about choosing who you fall with.
“Okay,” you breathe.
The word is small. But it changes everything.
His expression softens immediately.
“Okay?” he echoes.
You nod. Your heart is racing.
“But just this moment,” you add, almost helplessly. “Just… now.”
A faint smile touches his lips.
“Just now.”
It’s a lie. You both know it.
But neither of you call it out.
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
─────────
The call comes the next morning.
You stand in the hangar again. Just like before.
Except this time—
Everything feels heavier.
Your reassignment is final. The ship is ready.
Your master is waiting.
You don’t look at Seonghwa right away.
Because if you do—
You might not leave.
“Padawan.”
Your master’s voice is firm.
You step forward.
But you stop. Just for a second.
And you turn.
He’s there.
Standing a few steps away. Watching you.
Not trying to hide it anymore. Not pretending.
You walk toward him.
Ignoring everything else. Everyone else.
“You’re leaving,” he says quietly.
“Yes.”
A pause.
“For now.”
His gaze flickers.
“Not forever?”
You shake your head.
“No.”
Because something has changed.
Not the rules. Not the galaxy. Not the war.
But you.
“This doesn’t end here,” you say softly.
It’s not a promise.
Not fully. But it’s close.
His expression softens.
“Good.”
You hesitate.
Then—
You reach for his hand.
Quick. Subtle.
Hidden from everyone else.
But the Force—
The Force feels it.
Bright. Warm. Unbreakable.
“I’ll find you again,” he says.
Your chest tightens.
“I know.”
You let go.
Before anyone can see. Before it becomes too obvious.
You board the ship.
And this time—when it leaves with you in it—
It doesn’t feel like an ending.
It feels like something unfinished. Like something still waiting out there.
Between stars. Between time.
Between everything you’re supposed to be, and everything you’ve chosen to be instead.
Rated: PG (I think) for violence and mentions of sensitive topics.
Summery: A lonely siren loses the only person he has ever cared for. While hunting down those that took her, he comes across a pirate seeking revenge. As they follow their goals, they build a crew. A family. Now this misfit band of not quite pirates are working to uncover the darkness that is trying to take over.
Next
Chapter 1: Lonely Moon
✧Seonghwa✧
The darkness was usually comforting, but tonight, as he gazed at the moon, it felt empty.
The moon shone brightly in its full state, alone in the sky.
Alone, like him.
Like many sirens.
Sometimes, after walking through the busy village, he wished he was more like a star. Stars were in groups and clusters. So much so that the humans could make designs and pictures out of the groups of stars to help guide them. Beautiful constellations.
He didn’t have that though.
Leaning back against the rocks, he closed his eyes as the water lapped around his arms, occasionally reaching his shoulders. The sound of the ocean made the night less empty and he allowed it to lull him into a resting state.
Then, quietly at first, another sound joined in from somewhere above him. It was quiet and gentle at first but it quickly grew. Emotions quickly followed. The wish to die and will to live clashing harshly with each other.
He wondered who it was. The old fisherman whose wife had passed away recently while he was at sea. The young scholar who was studying to take the state exam for the 4th time.
Or…
He climbed out of the water, grabbing the clothes he’d left nearby and started up his secret path. When he made it to the top of the cliff, mostly dry, the emotions had dimmed. It seemed the will to live had won out in the end. Though he could still feel a slight quiver in the resolution.
There, at the edge of the cliff right above his home was the young woman he had often seen being picked on and cursed at in the village. Her tears glistened in the moonlight though her cries had become silent. But she was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t hear his approach.
“Are you planning on giving yourself to the siren?” he asked.
She gasped and nearly fell to the ground as she spun to face him.
“Wha-what?” She was breathless and he could hear sudden fear in her voice.
“You are standing above his home. If you were to jump, most sirens would see that as an offering.”
“I’m not going to jump,” she said, then her hands clenched into fists at her side. “And I’m certainly not planning on giving myself to a siren.”
“Trust me, I doubt he wants to take care of a human. What use would you be to him?”
The small amount of anger that had appeared flickered away again and she dropped her gaze. “None at all. No one has any use for me. I suppose I’m worthless.”
“Why do you say that?” he grew closer to her, head tilted.
She looked at him again, studying his features, searching for something. “If you were from around here for any significant amount of time you would know that I am the lowest in this village.”
“All humans are the same,” he said, bristling. He never understood the humans’ need to categorize everyone as higher or lower. “Who told you that you’re less than anyone else in this village?”
“I’m an orphan to a family without a name. My mother died when she gave birth to me and a few years ago my father went crazy,” she stated without emotion. “Everyone says my birth cursed my family and that my life will bring a curse on the village. They say I am better off dead.”
“So that is why you are here tonight? To let fools dictate your life.” He was an arms length away from her now and he stopped.
“No,” she said, meeting his eyes. He could make her features out clearly now that he was closer. The full moonlight glowing in her light brown eyes. The unique feature for this area was startling and he caught himself unable to look away as a fierceness entered them. “Not anymore.”
“You’re braver than I thought,” he said, his lips lifting into a smile.
“I would have to be brave to be talking to a siren right above his home.”
His smile dropped as her lips lifted into a small smirk. He tilted his head at her again. She was a puzzle. “How did you know?”
A small laugh escaped her, leaving behind a genuine smile. “You explore the village every now and then and trade pearls for money to buy things in the market. I’m sure most everyone knows.”
He smiled back. “I thought I was doing well at blending in.”
“No one knows where you live or what you do. You just show up with pearls and explore, and…” she looked him over with timid amusement.
“And?”
“You don’t really dress properly.”
His smile dropped once more and he looked down at his clothing that he had gathered. The colors went well together and he thought he had imitated the humans’ dress perfectly. Everything was tied and covered. “How?” he asked, meeting her gaze again. “Don’t I have all the proper clothing articles?”
“Most of them,” she said, looking him over again. “They just need to be tied properly. The biggest thing is your hair and lack of hat or shoes.”
“Why would I go through the trouble of putting my hair up only to cover it with a hat?” his lower lip jutted out just slightly. “And shoes are uncomfortable.”
“If you want to blend in, those are things you’ll have to do.”
He thought about it for a second then shook his head. “If everyone already knows then there’s no reason for me to change things now.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
There was a sudden sound in the bushes and they both jumped. He gently grabbed her arm and then moved to stand in front of her, searching the tree line just a few feet away from them. When nothing emerged and their beating hearts slowed to a normal pace, they looked at each other and shared a small laugh.
“I should…get going,” she said after a moment of silence. “Thank you for talking to me.”
“I’ll walk you home.”
It was a short walk that skirted between the town and the woods and led to a small old house that was worse for wear and set away from the others.
She stopped at the gate and turned to him. “Thank you again,” she said, then gave a small bow.
“My pleasure,” he said, mirroring her. She smiled then turned to leave. “I’m Seonghwa, by the way. You can call for me over the cliff if you ever want to talk again.”
Stopping, she turned back to him in surprise. “Would that be okay?” she asked. He nodded. “I’m Nari. I…I’ll see you around then.”
He smiled then gave a small wave as she turned back toward the small house and disappeared inside.
✧
Chatter. Light, airy, friendly chatter. He didn’t know how he had ever really lived without it. The young woman talked about some of the things that had happened since he had last come up to land only two days prior. The distance between visits was growing shorter as he found himself more curious and craving the interaction.
This is what friendship felt like. It was warm and comforting.
The sun was setting, dusting them in its red and pink glow and he couldn’t help but gaze at her as she talked frustratedly about something that her boss’s wife had done earlier that day. The story took a turn though as she explained that the woman had gotten what she deserved and fallen into a garbage pile because of her ranting. He laughed along with her, doubling over as she acted out the mishap.
His eyes moistened and then a tear fell and he caught it in surprise, staring at his hand as two more tears joined the first and they became soft pink pearls.
“What is it?” Nari asked, leaning over him to look.
“Nothing,” he said quickly with a smile. He tucked them into his sleeve as she reached for his hand then grabbed hers in interception. “It’s really nothing. I’ll show you later.”
She narrowed her eyes at him with a small smile, curiosity sparked.
“I’ll hold you to that,” she said, then plopped down on the grass next to him, arm around her knees, chin resting on top. “So, tell me more about yourself. What did you do yesterday?”
He shrugged. “Just swam around. Rested on some empty islands. Nothing special.”
“What’s in there? I’ve heard some pretty unbelievable stories.”
“There are others like me,” he said. “Few are as friendly though. Best to stay clear.”
“You’re friendly?”
He bumped her shoulder, smiling at her teasing remark. “There’s plenty of animals that you might find strange. But I would probably find some of your land animals strange as well,” he said. “It can be dangerous at times, but it’s beautiful too.”
“I wish I could see it then,” she said, laying her head on his shoulder as she looked out at the stretch of ocean that was visible over the cliff’s edge. “It would be nice to be able to see new things.”
“I could show you sometime.”
She shook her head. “I can’t swim and it would be difficult for me to see anything underwater.”
He turned, making her sit up with his movement. “I can teach you how to swim,” he said, taking her hand. “And some humans practice opening their eyes under the water. If you really want to see, then we can do it.”
“You really think so?”
He met her gaze firmly, leaning in closer. “Yes, I’m positive.”
“Okay.” She leaned in closer too. “Let’s do it then. I want to learn about your world, just like you learn about mine.”
They held each other’s gazes, then he looked down at her lips then back at her. Her eyes did the same. He leaned in closer, his eyes dropping down again as she closed hers. His heart was pounding in his ears as he grew closer. Then, he stopped and opened his eyes again. Her eyes opened too and their gazes met again.
He opened his mouth to speak, trying to form words. “I–”
Sudden sound came from the brush and he jumped to his feet, pulling her with him as he moved to hide them behind a nearby boulder. He helped her into the brush, then pulled her close as he pressed closer to the rock to hide her from view.
Voices were passing by on the cliff side path, likely some hunters or fisherman coming back to town from a long day out. They were taking their time, voices growing louder.
She moved and he looked down to check on her and their eyes met for a brief moment before they looked away again. He shifted, realizing how hot his neck was and wishing the group would pass quickly. He needed air and space, a way to clear his mind and think things through. He’d never been in this kind of situation before. His heart continued to pound in his ears as he tried to make sense of the feeling and impulses that were pushing to be explored.
“Um…” her voice was just above a whisper and cracked at the end, startling him out of his thoughts. “I think…I think they’re gone now.”
He tuned back into the sounds around them, then cleared his throat and stepped back. “You’re right.” His own voice caught and he cleared it, offering her a hand to help her out of the brush. Once they were back on the path, he let go of her hand then rubbed his neck, looking out at the setting sun. “I should walk you home,” he said. “It’s getting late.”
“Okay,” was all she said.
He turned back to look at her. She was fidgeting, her eyes searching the ground before finding his. He smiled at her then held out his hand again, and slowly, she took it.
She smiled as well, a blush alighting on her cheeks.
“Let’s go,” he said quietly.
Next
✧Author's Notes✧
Hello! Pirate Ateez AU as promised. Even though they have fooled us once more lol
If you're new here, I have this post about this side project of mine.
I hope you enjoy it!
If you want to see my other work, here is this link.
And here is a playlist that is currently a work in progress.
germansingergirl
dailybridgerton
2087
vaporwave
discoholicmusic
