one of my fav scenes in TPM is during the Duel of the Fates where Maul kicks Obi-Wan off the ledge and Qui goes into protective dad mode and just winds up and BACK HANDS the hell out of Maul.
like?? where did that come from lol. dude has a literal light saber and he went for the fists. its almost out of character for someone usually so pacifict to use such a direct physical form of almost retaliative aggression. but it amuses the hell out of me every time i watch it.
so i like to head canon hes way more protective than a lot of people think he is, he wouldn’t just let it slide if someone did something to someone he loved. is he one to seek vengeance? no. but in the moment i think its coming out.
and also WHO tf taught him to fight like that cause it sure as hell wasn’t Mr. Posh Dooku over there, that man would not use his hands in a fight LOL.
maybe it was Liam Neesons just past as a boxer/fighter that came out during that scene.
A/N: Thank you @rosesloveletters for the template!!! I think I will fill out your others later!!
I am relatively new to publicly self shipping on the internet so forgive me if this seems unnaturally written. I've been doing this in my own mind so much that I've never actually written it down. I found out self shipping was an actual thing this year and idk if I'm doing it correctly but I'm having fun!!
Relationship timeline—how long have you been together/how long have you known them?
So this is a complicted question I feel like.. A while?? Because growing up watching the Star Wars films he was always my fictional crush, but I wasn't heavily obsessed with the films and him until I was about 18. He was my highschool grad quote tho: your focus determines your reality. But in terms of actual romantic self shipping in my head, I place the date somewhere around 2021/22, with no specific date in mind but I do usually think of the spring.
How did your relationship start/how did you end up together?
See this is the part where I'm like.. if self shipping self insert into the canon universe? Or is it in the current universe, like Earth? If we're talking if I was in Star Wars, I have an OC who is myself (just with a different name bc I don't share my real name on here for privacy versions). But in that universe, my self insert is a princess on Naboo named Ariadne Naberrie. In this AU, I imagine myself as Padmes older sister, with the royalty on Naboo going by lineage not politics/voting. I usually imagine he was assigned to protect me following threats against me, causing us to grow close together. (Yes I completely took over the whole Attack of the Clones plot lol). He stayed in my quarters for months with me and I think we were both able to see parts in each other that others in our lives hadn't before. It was a very gentle, healing friendship based on respect and understanding before it became anything more. But I imagine it became something more one particular night after I learned how much he enjoyed stories and reading, so I sneaked out with him (very much against properity and royal protocol) to the palace library to show him the books and the observatory. Of course, he loved it. And as we spent some time in the observatory, he showed me all the stars and planets, pointing out coruscant. In that moment I started to realize how far coruscant truly was... The concept of him returning home hadn't been one on my mind for awhile as I'd grown so used to having him around. But I began to realize eventually he would leave, that he would be on that tiny dot across the universe and I think that's when I truly realized that I felt something deeper for him than friendship. He sensed it, as he's always so good at reading emotions. Which of course led to his classic, "express your feelings, allow me to help you" ramble, which led to mutual confessions and a very nice gentle first kiss under the stars.
Do you have a ship name or phrase? What is the inspiration behind it?
I don't!! I never thought of one before but now I'm like oh gosh, I think I want one.... It has to do something with stars I think, given our past.
Do you stick to canon or prefer to create AUs specific to your ship?
A mix of both? Mostly AU because of course I'm not eacknowledging his canon death at all, thank you. Plus the background of my family/profession isn't canon. The name Ariadne also comes from Greek Mythology, a princess who was helped her lover Theseus escape the labrynth and kill the minotaur only to be abandoned on an island afterwards. I think this name for my self insert kinda serves as a retelling of sorts. But in my head, he is still of course a Jedi master, with Obi-Wan as his apprentice.
Nicknames—theirs for you, yours for them.
At first, he of course only called me Princess or Your Highness. Now he still likes to call me those, but the meaning has changed. He also likes to call me my love, darling, dear one and every variation of "my (adjective) girl" there is. (Those are my favourite hehe).
At first, I only called him Master, Master Jedi, or Master Jinn. Eventually it shorted to his full name, in the quiet moments at night when it was just us away from the prying eyes of my advisors and the public... Which then shortened to Qui. A little more rarely, I like to call him my love, darling, dear. But I think his favourite is to hear me say the shortened version of his name.
What is your favorite physical and personal feature about them? Theirs about you?
My favourite feature of his is his nose and his eyes for sure. I love his nose so much. I think it is, artistically, so very beautiful. It was one of the first things I complimented about him openly, which made him a little, pleasantly surprised. I also love his eyes though, especially the crinkle he gets in the corner of his eyes when he smiles.
His favourite feature of mine is my eyes and hair. He loves my eyes because he thinks eyes have deep spiritual connection and he feels very connected to me when he looks into them. He also likes the colour. They're brown and that reminds him of dirt, of gardens, and of life. He also loves my hair though. In real culture in real life, and how I imagine Nabooian culture, hair represents the extension of ones spirit. So we braid it and keep it long, only cutting it in times of mourning. He's very interested in this belief and loves to take care of my hair because it feels like him taking care of me. He likes to braid it, put oils in it, wash it etc. And he LOVES all the royal hairstyles, but I think his favourite is at night when its natural, freshly washed and down. He's the only one who gets to see me like that so its a very intimate thing.
Sleep patterns—sleep talker, restless sleeper, bed hog, snorer?
He's a very light sleeper, but he's very touchy. He likes to be holding me, or touching me while he sleeps. He can surprisingly fall asleep in any position, but normally he meditates to fall asleep which causes him to fall asleep on his back.
Me on the other hand, in real life and in my AU, I can ONLY fall asleep in a very specific position on my stomach. I think it disapoints him sometimes I can't sleep cuddled up to him but I just can NEVER fall asleep that way. Sorry Qui lol.
Intimacy—who is dominant and who is submissive, preferences, etc.
I think our intimacy is very nice. We have a very loving, and respectful intimacy life. I'd say he's more dominant, but not in a possessive way. It's more so in a taking the lead, caring for me way. There are times when it can get more passionate, rough etc. But he's always very careful never to hurt me or over step any boundaries and he's always encouraged me to have good communication with that sort of thing.
I've talked about this before, but irl, I've had some not very good experiences surrounding intimacy before. In my AU, he's my first. So I think this is my way of coping/reclaiming that.
Associations—list some things that you associate with your F/O, i.e: colors, activities, items, etc.
Colours: Green, sky blue (like his eyes), gold (like my dress when I met him)
Activities: Meditation, reading, looking up at the stars in the observatory or on the balcony, walking through the gardens
Other niche things: Spring, lavender, redwood trees, flowers, rain
What is your favorite quote of theirs?
"Your focus determines your reality." It was my high school grad quote and I want it tattooed!!
Do you have a couple’s song/playlist? Use this space to share what it is.
I LOVE making playlists. I made a previous post on songs that remind me of him so check that out for more detailed descriptions. I should make a playlist for him and I. Once again I'm new to this form of self shipping aside from just straight daydreams but I will share a few songs:
Forwards becons rebound by Adrianne Lenker: Some of the lyrics dont match of course, but melody wise and vibe wise, I listened to it a lot during a bad time in my life when I relied on him a lot so I associate it with him now
pov by Ariana Grande: When I'm feeling harder on myself, this reminds me how he views me: with love and patience
Holocene by Bon Iver: This song is all about the humbling feeling of feeling insignificant in the face of the beauty of the Earth and thats how I felt with him looking up at the stars as I fell in love with him
Saturn by Sleeping At Last: I can't even get into this song it's just so... Yes. Perfect. There are no words to describe it.
Willow by Taylor Swift: Once again no words. Perfect
WARNINGS: Anxiety and stress symptoms, nudity mentioned.
A/N: As promised, here are my general headcanons list for Qui-Gon Jinn! I've been working on this collection for a long time, functioning as a living document for almost a year. I took a lot of liberties with this one, but since the Star Wars universe is so vast, I tend to treat it as a fantasy world where just about anything is possible. At the end, I did include a few general headcanons about what I think he'd be like in a relationship. I'll probably write more of these at some point, but enjoy these for now<3 Unedited, because it's getting late and I'm feeling lazy.
Qui-Gon Jinn Headcanons
He is fascinated by trees and has his own bonsai collection that he keeps in the Temple Gardens and maintains them during his free time.
He is completely unashamed by nudity. When he’s off world on remote planets, he’ll sometimes bathe in creeks or lakes.
He loves fog and likes to meditate in it.
The only part of his body that he’s a bit vain about is his hair because he views it as symbolic of his connection to the Force and the Jedi Order. He doesn’t let anyone touch it unless they’re gentle and respectful not to pull any knots through or snag it when it’s wet.
Speaking of his hair, he loves wearing scrunchies because they don’t damage his hair, especially when he’s sleeping.
He’s also definitely the type to be interested in using silk or satin pillowcases when he’s at the Temple. On missions, he sacrifices a lot of his usual routines and hair care out of duty to the Order (but he isn’t happy about it.)
He has very dry and sarcastic humor (Obi-Wan had to learn it from somewhere lol.)
He is the most patient man you’ll ever meet, even when he loses his temper. He doesn’t typically raise his voice except when he’s passionate about something, but if he’s truly angry he’ll deliver the most biting comments that could bring even a grown man to his knees.
Very few have ever heard him angry enough to yell.
Has a bit of a sweet tooth but prefers pastries and pies rather than sugary candy.
Bathing is a contemplative/reflective time for him.
Loves to meditate first thing in the morning.
He doesn’t like to eat as soon as he wakes up and typically won’t eat anything until he’s been awake for at least an hour.
He’s a very strong swimmer and thinks being underwater is very peaceful, however, he didn’t learn to swim until he was older.
He actually enjoys gambling, but prefers more elaborate games, occasionally with higher stakes (he enjoys the rush that comes from the risk.)
He has lingering pain in his left hip that flares up occasionally due to having dislocated it when he was a Padawan.
He loves to give piggyback rides and lets younglings sit on his shoulders.
He loves the smell of freshly fallen rain on warm soil.
He is extremely easy going and no matter what is happening, nothing ever seems to faze him. He’ll remain calm, just going along with whatever is going on; the only tell is his eyes and how they change depending on the emotion he is experiencing, or the slight shift in his inflection if he’s irritated or frustrated.
He loves to study rocks, gems and crystals.
He loves identifying new wildflowers.
He loves the physical act of writing, as opposed to dictation through his commlink or using datapads for record-keeping, but the technologically advanced galactic republic doesn’t provide much opportunity or afford him enough time to slow down and use a pen as frequently as he’d like, but when his time is his own, he likes to take physical notes or simply practice his penmanship.
As a Padawan, he went through a phase where he didn’t speak for weeks (as a form of meditation and introspective reflection), until his Master began to worry about him and he realized it was better to open his mouth and speak than let things progress to a point of no return—one where Master Dooku, of all people, became concerned.
Absolutely hates being cooped up inside, but he keeps a handle on his emotions quite well, so no one around him would ever notice his restlessness, but if he hasn’t reconnected with the outside world for too long, he’ll meditate much more frequently and might appear somewhat restless.
When his missions take him to planets with flowers, he’ll sneak petals that he can press and save as little souvenirs or to study them back at the Temple.
He is passionate about learning different healing techniques and methods, so he would be the kind of person who will watch the entire process of having blood drawn from start to finish. He’s perfected the art of doing it in a swift/stealthy manner if the situation calls for it or the person he has to draw blood from is squeamish.
He’s a sucker for a sad story. When he was younger, he’d been accused of having a savior complex, but he just genuinely cares deeply for others and wants to offer solutions to problems whenever they arise, or to be the solution, if he can be.
His most expressive feature are his eyes. They seem to change shades depending on his mood.
He’s the one everybody turns to for advice because he always seems to know what to do or how to handle any situation that arises. The part he struggles with is listening to his own advice.
He’s introspective, almost to a fault. He’ll often zone out and it might appear that he isn’t listening, but he’s only deep in thought, taking every word to heart.
When he was a youngling and had time to himself, he’d visit gardens and “rescue” little clumps of grass growing in between cracks in the concrete and plant them somewhere else, giving them water and checking on them as frequently as he could to see if they’d take root and start to grow.
Loves to eat all different types of fruit.
Went through a phase of being really annoying about having the proper daily intake of water and carried around an obnoxiously large thermos.
If a storm’s coming, he’s going outside to watch it roll in. He has a healthy respect for lightning and as soon as the strikes come close enough he will take shelter.
One of his favorite sensations is grass beneath his bare feet.
Not a lot of things shorten his patience as quickly as hair pulling. He thinks of it as being disrespectful and he doesn’t like if anyone tries to touch his hair without asking for permission.
He’s fairly sentimental for a Jedi. Most of his possessions are gifts or things he’s been given throughout his life. He doesn’t feel comfortable getting rid of anything given to him in good faith or by someone he cares for.
Likes things to be tidy and in order. If his space is cluttered, his mind feels cluttered too.
Loves honey and is fascinated by bees.
Uses peppermint to combat nausea so he’s always got mints in his pockets, just in case.
As well as eating healthy, he likes to take a daily multivitamin and other supplements.
Has tried yoga on more than one occasion and is surprisingly agile for his height.
As a Padawan, Obi-Wan would sometimes forget to eat and so Qui-Gon got used to having at least one snack on him at all times, just in case his padawan got hungry or he came across someone who needed something to eat.
Loves dark chocolate, the higher percentage of cacao the better (80% or higher, preferably.)
Never puts ice in his water.
Is a big fan of birdwatching and has bird identification guides downloaded onto his datapad for every planet he’s been to.
He uses the same devices for as long as possible and won’t upgrade to newer models until the ones he has practically no longer function or hold a proper charge.
When he was younger, he struggled with such severe anxiety that his stress began to mimic arthritis symptoms. Since that time in his life, he’s done everything he could to let go of any unnecessary stress and handle his anxiety in a healthy manner.
He prefers a colder climate as opposed to a hotter one. He cannot stand heat waves and wears his hair in a bun if it’s going to be especially hot, but not often because the sweat gets trapped in it and irritates his scalp.
He’s written some poetry in his lifetime but has never shared it because it’s never been a topic that’s come up.
Has a candle collection so vast that he’s forgotten about some of them. He likes to light one for evening meditation or while he showers.
Is a big fan of low light in the evening (think Himalayan salt lamp type of warm light.)
He loves turtles and amphibians, frogs and toads especially, and would put those little “toad homes” in the temple gardens. (I want frogs and toads to exist in Star Wars, so now they do lol.)
If he ever visited Earth, he’d love reading Grimm’s fairytales and folklore.
When he thinks what he is doing is right, he’s incredibly stubborn.
No matter how many times he travels through hyperspace, he’s never gotten used to how beautiful the stars are. He loves stargazing on clear nights, when he’s far from the ambient light on Coruscant that washes them out.
Qui-Gon in a romantic relationship headcanons…
His primary love language is physical touch, secondary to acts of service.
He loves the taste of lip balm on his partner’s lips and will kiss it off any chance he gets.
It’s the little things. Qui-Gon doesn’t like grand romantic gestures and wouldn’t want his partner to go out of their way to make a fuss over him. He prefers quiet nights together, sharing thoughts and ideas, maybe over dinner or a glass of wine.
Similarly, he is regretful when his partner wants to tend to injuries he has sustained during missions. He would prefer to let the healers keep him bedridden for days rather than see the way his lover’s eyes widen in shock when they see all the dark bruises and cuts on his body.
He’s perfectly content enjoying “boring” hobbies. Qui-Gon is the sort of person who would be happy to watch grass grow. He’ll lay in a field with you tucked under his arm, watching the clouds roll by overhead, pointing out ones which remind him of things (and of you.)
He brings you all sorts of beautiful little trinkets from all over the galaxy that he acquires from various sources like quaint markets and street vendors.
He has an impressive memory and remembers things even you’ve forgotten that you told him.
Always uses a soft voice with you, like water that erodes hardened stone—gentle, yet insistent.
He adores having you lay against his chest while he tenderly runs his hands along your sides and thighs, his heart hammering steadily against your back.
If you have arguments, he is extremely patient and wants to discuss your different points of view rather than letting it create distance between you. He will simply listen to what you have to say and expects that you offer him the same courtesy, but if you need some time to calm down before you are in a mindset that is conducive to holding respectful conversation, he will give you space to recenter yourself.
He won’t let you wallow in your sadness and anxieties. If something is bothering you, he can sense it and will tactfully ask you about it, gently prompting you, because he believes bottling up your feelings isn’t healthy.
He never wants you to feel like your worth or his love are something you must earn. You are valuable simply because you exist and his love is freely given. He cares deeply for you and your well-being, mentally, physically and emotionally.
Tags: Qui Gon Jinn x Female OC, age gap (female oc in her mid 20s, Qui in his early 40s), fluffy smut, established relationship, praise heavy, gentle dom Qui, thigh riding
A/N: Just a short little thing to ease myself back into writing. It might be bad but at least its not AI. Yep. This disastor is all me folks. I'm also not editing this. I just need to write and not think about it. Sorry!
There was a gentleness to his touch that she had never known before.
She thought she had, at times. Glimpses of tenderness from past lovers. A slower thrust, a softer look. But it was only ever that. Slower. Softer. But never slow, never soft. As if gentleness is measured only in comparasion to the harsher act that predated it.
With Qui, she began to unlearn this. Slowly at first. The way he watched her with a gaze as soft and as slow as his hands over her clothed skin as he asked for consent before even beginning to insinuate it. And she would give it, freely, nearly every time. Not because she had to, but because she had begun to desire this new found gentle love. The unlearning of the violence of her past. The idea that intimacy could be as soft as the sheets he lay her down upon, that even on the occasion their movements were faster pace, it never outpaced the respect, or the love, either of them shared.
It was this knowledge that had begun to make her feel more confident in asking for her own pleasure, rather than allowing him to take the lead.
In the dim glow of his quarters, they borrowed stolen time in bed. Propped up against the wall, Qui-Gon sat with her in his lap, her soft thighs straddling his, shielded by only the sleep shorts she wore.
The council could never know. The feel of her near bare skin warm against the restraint of his own robes and pants was almost enough to ground him when he caught himself drifting into his own anxieties, now matter how hard he had tried to unlearn the shame that came with being raised with non-attachment doctrine. But the divinity of her body against his, how could he not worship the force through her?
His large hands held her firmly in place on his lap, a gentle stength that mirrored the rest of his restraint as he devoured her lips slowly. Each movement drawn out, his tongue tracing her lips, dancing with hers as she whimpered against him.
She held onto his shoulders, fingertips feeling the rough ends of his hair where it fell against his robes as she attempted to ground herself in the moment just as thoroughly as he had.
He pulled her against him a little firmer in an attempt to bring them even closer and in doing so, caused her clothed arousal to brush against his thigh. A shaky gasp escaped her lips, breathing in his own air as he pulled back slightly to look at her.
The pleasure that accidental brush had brought her was obvious: Pupils blown, cheeks tinged pink, lips parted and swollen from kissing. Beautiful. Every part of her.
She rolled her hips against his thigh, intentionally this time. Confident this time with the learned experience that he could, would, never harm her or mistreat her. That her pleasure mattered as much as his. Shown not only in his words, but his actions, both equally as gentle.
He hummed, a soft, low sound in the back of his throat as his hands remained on her waist, allowing her to set her own pace, her own motion as she began to slowly grind down on his thigh. It was a shameless, filthy motion by any other standards. But what could be more pure than two beings, two souls, seeking pleasure through each others physical existence?
The corners of his blue eyes crinkled slightly as he gave a small smile and an encouraging nod, murmuring with the quiet intensity and reverence of old Jedi propechies forgotton by many, but shown to those deserving: "Does that feel nice, my dear?"
And she sighed, a shaky, broken exhale leaving quivering lips as he began to move a little firmer, a little more confidently. Grinding against his thigh as she sought out her own pleasure, feeling no shame, but only love in his gaze as he watched.
"Yes master..." She whimpered, adding the honorific without second thought. There was power, in acknowledging the power imbalence between them that surely existed, but was never used against her in these times. A reminder of trust.
He groaned slightly, allowing himself the authority to only slightly shift her against him. Only barely guiding her movements. "Like that, hmm? Does that pace feel alright?"
Her eyes fluttered shut as she nodded. Unable to focus on the intense, loving gaze of Qui-Gon soaking in every moment of her moving on top of him. She focused solely on the feeling now, remembering every once of his training.
"That's it," He murmured, sensing her thoughts. "Breathe, my darling. Focus on the moment. Feel me beneath you. That's it."
A whimper escaped her lips, now parted in bliss as she rolled her hips shamelessly against him. Every brush of her against his thigh, even through the restrictions of their clothes, was enough friction to send pleasure coursing through her, the heat building up in her lower abdomen.
Her breath came in quick gasps despite her attempts to slow it down, to bask in the feeling. And even in the face of tenderness, do old habits find a way to slip in sometimes. Anxieties resurfacing from the back of her mind and taking her out from the present moment: What if she looked strange, doing this against his thigh? What if he found her unappealing from this angle? Could she even come, fully clothed? Or would that be disgusting to him?
"Shhh...." He whispered, tucking a strand of her now sweaty hair behind her ear as his gaze remained soft upon her face, watching ever flicker of pleasure dance across it. "Let go of your anxieties. Just feel me... Feel me.... That's it. That's my good girl."
She whined, needily at the praise. She always did. The way he praised her so authentically, without any hint of jest or mockery in his voice. As if he was, and he was, genuinely proud of her for taking her pleasure so confidently from him.
Her breathing quickened, rutting against him harder as he chased her release. "Master," She whimpered, "Close. Please. Close. Close."
"I've got you." He whispered gently, soothingly as both hands found their way to her hips again. "You're safe, dear one. Let yourself go. I've got you."
She shattered, thighs shaking as she gasped out his name, rutting shamelessly against him as she desperately chased her climbax. Qui-Gons grip on her hips anchored her through her orgasm, pulling her against his thigh with firm, sharp movements as her pace faltered in order to prolong her pleasure as much as possible. Whispering sweet nothings into her ear, "My pretty girl, there you go. That's a good girl. My good, sweet girl."
She finally stilled against him, thighs shaking against his, head tilted against his shoulder as her forehead rested against his long, brown hair. "Qui..." She whispered. "Oh... That was... I love you."
The smile upon his face was as true as the way he felt for her. "And I love you, very much."
To some, it was a sentence forbidden more than most other things in the Jedi order. If Qui-Gon was a more maverick Jedi, he would have never been in this situation in the first place. But with his lover blissed out on his lap, still drunk on post-orgasm haze, anchoring herself through the force by clinging to his physical form... There was nothing more divine, nothing more binding between Qui-Gon and his purpose as a man, as a jedi, than this connection to the living force, through her.
picture me this, right? Qui-gon and his emo little padawan after a missions gone sideways (something probably blew up) (it’s fine) (no they’re not telling the council)
Hiii. I absolutely love your fics oh my gosh. especially Qui-Gon?! he's so in character and you write him so well and wksgkegskebs im obsessed. I wonder if you'd be okay with me requesting something but it's really specific and I'm not sure if you'll be comfortable with it so please just ignore this in that case. I have severe emetophobia, which is a fear of throwing up, both me and especially other people. Like, I will absolutely be screaming crying and even passing out from fear or risk injuring myself/other people in order to escape a situation that involves puke in any form, even on TV. Everyone around me is really dismissive of it and Qui-Gon's like my huge crush plus he's so sweet, and calm, and gentle, and caring, and I feel like he'd be great at comforting. So if you're okay with that and it doesn't make you uncomfortable I would be super grateful for either some hurt/comfort one-shot about Qui-Gon comforting Reader after she's triggered or some headcanons about how he'd be with a partner with that fear. Though I know its a pretty niche and weird request so if you dont wanna write it or wanna change something up or just make it some unspecified phobia/different phobia thats totally okay and pls dont feel pressured into anything, your writings so great 😭
The Most I Have To Give
PAIRING: Qui-Gon Jinn x Reader
WORD COUNT: 3,281
WARNINGS: Emetophobia, vomiting, anxiety, some mildly disturbing/upsetting imagery and descriptions.
A/N: Apologies I took forever to post this one...I resonated deeply with this request, because I have had crippling emetophobia for years now and have never really spoken about it with anyone other than my significant other and select few friends. It is often a debilitating fear and I think it is significantly overlooked or diminished by the general public. I wouldn't wish it on anyone. That being said, I poured a lot of myself into this fic so please treat it with care. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy :)
You couldn’t remember when it started, or for how long, only that you longed to unburden yourself from it, but you did not know how. You could see the stepping stones in your mind and as you puzzled through which steps had led you astray, trying to find where you’d gone wrong, you always plunged back into the same murky waters, tainted just as you’d always been before you were brave enough to try to breech the surface and look for answers. The Force hadn’t abandoned you, and as you opened yourself to it, you started to realize that the only thing truly encumbering you now was yourself.
You could not speak about it, to anyone, because if you did, then would that not make it become a reality? It seemed silly to even consider that a possibility, but there was something malignant within you, poisoning your mind, pushing the boundaries between what you knew and what you did not wish to know, and instead of removing it, you fed into it, and in turn, it grew stronger, like weeds that overtake a garden after a great downpour. You reasoned that, perhaps, you were something of a complex plant yourself, because after all, Master Qui-Gon treated you like it.
Even he knew there was more to proper character development than that, but you had to start somewhere and the best thing about him was that no matter where you were within your life’s never-ending journey, he found you and guided you towards the next rightful step you should take. It was not important where you had gone wrong, because life was full of choices; if you didn’t like the one you had made, you were free to make another.
Qui-Gon bred confidence within you and fostered a deeper understanding of your thought processes through utilization of the Force. He encouraged you to meditate and that was as far as you’d gotten, not just because you trusted his innate ability to understand what you needed long before you did (and let you get there on your own instead of leaping to your rescue) but because there was absolutely no remote possibility you’d be going anywhere near Obi-Wan right now.
The young Padawan had gorged himself on Coruscanti delicacies and trifles acquired throughout his galactic travels, then subsequently made himself sick to the point of having to quickly excuse himself and rush for the refresher and to purge it all into the nearest waste bin. It seemed the young man still had not learned to indulge in moderation and Qui-Gon went to tend to him, only to find that you had retreated from the room when he’d come back to apologize on behalf of his student.
It perplexed him, because you’d made no indication that there was anywhere for you to be the rest of the day, except right where you belonged, and it pinched his heart to find you missing, even if you weren’t in any sort of danger or had left on bad terms. When you were out of his sight, his eyes did not stop scanning his surroundings until you were within view—an unbecoming habit for a Jedi, because he could feel the way the attachment to you had embedded itself within him like a thorn caught deep under his skin.
You weren’t a briar he needed to cut out, no, you were far more delicate, all dewdrops and gossamer petals, but with a stem adorned with sharp spires apt to draw blood. There was more to you than met the eye and that was what held his attention solely on you, even in a crowded room.
You’d retreated to your private quarters long before you’d heard Obi-Wan begin to retch, knowing that if you had stuck around much longer, then you would have done more to embarrass yourself than Obi-Wan had. It was the height of indignities that he’d suffered and you could imagine the swell of heat rising within him, the waves of humiliation burning him through at the prospect of what he’d done. He knew better and he’d certainly fall asleep chastising himself for it, tearing himself apart for not possessing enough willpower to tell himself no to just one more bite. You knew the damage it did to the young Padawan’s psyche when he considered that this was just one more reason he was not fit to become a proper Jedi Knight, and so the last thing you wanted was to add more to the mix of emotions warring within him. He needed his Master more than you needed to explain yourself, just to have someone to listen to you would have been enough, but that could wait until the time was right.
You and Qui-Gon had never been able to get your timing right, but perhaps that was just a part of life you’d have to come to accept.
“I had thought we’d have a bit more time together before the end of the day,” Qui-Gon appeared suddenly, his gentle voice mimicked the Nabooian breeze you’d grown fond of during your last diplomatic mission, entering your inner ear and stirring up a tornado of emotions within you, “I apologize for it having been cut short.”
It took you longer to meet his gaze than you would’ve liked, but it was the tone he used with you that made it easier, like second nature, drowning yourself in rainwater hues till you broke the surface and began to tread water. It was his faith in you that kept you afloat, head above water, still daring to take one last lap around those irises even if it cost you your life. You wanted a love like a sun-dappled pond, a way to submerge your body just enough to feel something beyond yourself but still feel connected to what you knew. Qui-Gon’s presence was the shimmering surface, his gentle nature the cool depths you had settled into.
“No need for apologies,” you waved a hand in acknowledgement of the situation, as well as with deference to his wishes, “but I suppose if an apology was owed, I should be the one offering it.”
He looked momentarily perplexed, his brow furrowing in between his pinched brows and highlighting the confusion on his creased face, “What has made you feel apologetic?”
His voice was so pleasant in his delivery that you were almost swayed into telling the truth, but you managed to reign champion over your impulses, “I should have made you aware I was leaving.”
Qui-Gon breathed out a huff of air through his nose, disguising the laugh as an exhale, “My concentration was somewhat branched at the time.”
You tilted your head as you admired the grin you’d come to adore seeing on his face, the expressiveness of his face never short of fascinating to you, “That is one way of putting it.”
A break in the conversation loomed with the imposition of a mountain range between you but you were determined to bridge the gap, if only you knew how. There wasn’t much left for you to say except that you could not go on like this for much longer and that keeping it together caused you far worse pain than enduring a life with this sort of mortification out in the open. You did not like to talk about it because, in the past, it hadn’t been well-received. You were used to the dismissiveness of your peers, the judgmental attitude of others when you tried to convey to them what it felt like to live every second in fear of something you could not control. It had hindered you, confining you to a truth you did not want to pay mind to, but were beginning to equate your worth as a Jedi to the unfathomable fear you experienced every single day of your life. It was bleak—you knew fear would eventually lead you down a path where Qui-Gon could not follow, and that alone was nearly enough to paralyze you.
You were at a crossroads and you didn’t like your choices, but if Qui-Gon had taught you anything, it was that if you didn’t like where you were headed, and the path you were on was not the right one for you, then you could always forge your own way.
“I’m…conflicted,” you began and the words settled over you like a weighted blanket, heavy, yet comforting now that they were being said, “it is not the way of the Jedi to be fearful.”
“Careful…” Qui-Gon warned, taking a small step closer to you to recenter you in the moment with him, “It is not that fear itself is dangerous. It is what we choose to do with that fear. We always have a choice to either let that fear consume us and carve our decisions for us, or we can choose to observe it, understand why we feel the way that we do, and then to let it go.”
“So…our fear does not define us…?” the question in your voice led him to nod, confirming your statement and suddenly your chest felt a bit lighter.
“Fear is a thief of the present,” Qui-Gon responded as he finally came close enough to place a hand on your shoulder, the connection between your body and his made you feel less like two planets orbiting each other in the same solar system yet never crossing paths and more like inhabitants of the same world, breathing the same air with hearts beating in tandem, “it steals our ability to focus on the world around us.”
You nodded, because it was Qui-Gon’s nature to say something profound when you felt like you couldn’t breathe any more life into the conversation. He always knew what you needed to hear, even if it wasn’t always easy to listen. It brought you to the realization that to ebb the pain, you needed to be honest, not just with him but with yourself. You had to confide in him, and let him share in this moment of vulnerability, so that you could finally begin to let your hand slip, slackening the line and letting go of your white-knuckled grip on life that you purposefully held onto as you did with everything in your determination to satiate your nervous system and gain peace of mind.
“It terrified me, seeing Obi-Wan about to get sick,” you rasped, forcing the words out of your mouth and it was a wonder you didn’t cut yourself on the sharpness with which you uttered them, but the gaping wound had burned into your throat from holding back for so long and it wouldn’t let you stop yourself from gushing further, “I can’t be around it. It sends me into a panic, nearly enough that I might injure myself in extricating myself from that situation. And don’t even get me started on what it does to me, feeling like I might become ill…”
Qui-Gon could feel the pain radiating from within you, like sun off warm cement, only this was far less comforting. There was the potency of fear that gave your emotions the same metallic tang as though it were made of blood and it gathered there in the back of his throat, throbbing, pulsing, magnified by the significant pressure on his chest as you steeped in it, but unlike a strong tea, this feeling offered clarity on another plane—perhaps it was right to feel as you did, because it meant you had stopped running from it long enough to understand why you felt like you had to in the first place.
“It makes you feel powerless,” he began, sensing by the twitch of your brow that he was getting somewhere, “that something bad is happening to you, and you cannot do anything to stop it.”
Your frown deepened, “Not if I can help it,” your adamant tone made him wonder how many times you’d suffered loss of sleep, lack of proper nutrition, stomach aches and the like, all to quell the sickening twinge in the back of your throat, the tickle that burned until your limbs grew heavy and you knew that no amount of holding back was going to be enough to make it better, “I’d rather chew my own nails down to the cuticles on every finger before I would allow myself to vomit.”
In that moment, Qui-Gon was not hearing you speak on your intense phobia as much as he was hearing the terror it caused you and the unrest within your being. It wasn’t an easy thing, learning to overcome any degree of fear, especially alone and he took a private moment to feel honored that you trusted him enough to lay it all upon his shoulders. He had always been a problem-solver, someone who knew how to provide a solution whenever those around him asked for one; the trick was being patient enough to wait for you to come to him. It had never been something he struggled with until you had grown close, but ever since then, it seemed that he needed to keep himself under his own thumb more than he ever had before. He wanted, more than anything, to help you overcome this, and if that was not an option, then he would simply be there to show you that strength did not only have to come from you, but that inner strength was amplified by the company you kept.
You did not have to suffer silently anymore.
“It is not my intention to cure you,” he began and it sounded harsh, like metal scraping stone, but the reality of it was that you didn’t even want him to try, “that is a decision you must make on your own and if that is what you wish, then I will offer my support and guidance in the matter. Our bodies are wonderfully miraculous things, my dear, and they are capable of all sorts of violently beautiful and chaotic things, some of which can make us all a bit queasy if we think on it long enough. I can sense that this is something causing great anguish, and I yearn to alleviate that, even a little.”
He reached within his robes and drew a handful of small candies out of one of the inner pockets, holding them out to you as you cupped your palms together and accepted the proffered treat.
“These lozenges are specialized to treat nausea,” he explained, his silvered voice spinning starshine in your ear, “I always keep a few on me for hyperspace travels. If you need more, I can get them for you. For now, we will treat the cause and then, perhaps with a bit more reflection, we will be able to examine the reason for it, yes?”
Inside of you, relief bloomed. You seized him, without warning, and Qui-Gon expelled a soft breath in surprise at your forwardness, yet as he recovered from the initial shock, his arms came around your shoulders and drew you in securely as he let you nuzzle into his robes with an appreciative hum.
“Thank you, Qui,” you whispered, voice hoarse and encumbered as you tried to express your gratitude. Your reaction might’ve seemed overwhelming, out of place given the inconsequentiality of the situation but it was his tenderness that stirred such sensitivity in you. No one had ever given you the space to express how you felt without ridicule, nor had they taken it upon themselves to offer assistance or simply treat you as if your fear was not something to be mocked and was, in fact, just another facet of who you were. There was space for you, in all forms, and in every heartbeat; you were one more example of the complexities of humanity and all that it encompassed and, to Qui-Gon, that was inexplicably beautiful.
It was natural to be afraid—what was unacceptable was your guilt.
It was enough on your shoulders to live in fear of being put in a situation you were uncomfortable with, let alone having to concern yourself with the anxiety over whether you had the right to be who you were because of these unavoidable scenarios. It wasn’t right to make you spiral over something so trivial. The mark of a true Jedi, a child of the universe, was to admit how you felt and to find a healthy expression for such emotions; he had taught that very lesson to as many as would listen to what he had to say, and you were no exception.
“To be mindful of our fears is a small part of learning to overcome them, but it is the first step,” he explained, a heavy hand stroking the length of your back was meant to ground you within the present, “you have been honest with me, dear one, and I am grateful to have garnered such trust from you.”
He was not asking you to let go of your fear or trying to get to the root of the problem right away. He simply listened to what you needed to say and offered gentle encouragement with solutions to help alleviate the anxiety surrounding the feeling of nausea that had sent you into the same dizzying patterns one too many times.
It felt liberating to be heard.
“I feel as though I could tell you anything, Master Jinn,” you confessed and you’d have sworn his grip on you tightened, but the movement was barely perceptible, “you have no true grasp on the level of comfort that you bring to me.”
He did not ask leading questions or demand any explanations for why you felt this way, only he acknowledged and validated it, never belittling you for it. You were free to simply be, as you were and always had been, and for the first time you felt like you were being honest with yourself as much as you were with him.
“I am touched, my dear,” Qui-Gon’s heart fluttered in his chest, a reaction that still surprised him after all this time, “this is but one part of a whole. I will do what I can to ease your mind, always. You must continue to do as you are now: remain open to understanding and maintain appropriate expression.”
Your nose brushed against his shoulder as you nuzzled into him, drawn in by his arms which remained around your body, the smell of sweet rainwater and mint, the hint of vanilla and sweat filling your lungs as you inhaled his scent. It was a balm to your spirit, a salve on your heart, and you knew that now you at least had an ally if nothing else. You trusted Qui-Gon to guide you through this, or to at least provide shelter for your weary mind on its quest for better, less troubling thoughts.
You wouldn’t be plagued by this anymore, because you did not have to press it down, or hide how it made you feel. Even if this fear never left, especially if you could not overcome it, Qui-Gon would never stop affirming that you had the power to choose, nor would he abandon you if it were not possible.
It was the most he had to give to you: a state in which you could achieve more than what you were with this fear that corrupted your thoughts and turned them against you, the feeling that you were vulnerable, unequipped to deal with something so crippling, as debilitating, as this phobia felt.
Your worth was not defined by the things you were afraid of—you had value, all your own, and you were, above all, cherished for every part that made you, you.
as an astrology girlie he gives me aquarius vibes. (humanitarian, free spirited, innovative) because of his strict personal moral code and belief in the good in people and thus doing what is right regardless of societal (or jedi code) ideas. this would mean his birthday would have to be between Jan 20 - Feb 18. I always pictured him as a spring baby, but I guess there is something symbolic about him being born in the darkest time of the year.
i think his moon would be taurus. grounded, stable emotions for the most part. appreciating the physical in order to ground himself, hence why he finds nature and the jedi gardens so spiritually grounding.
his rising i think is sagittarius! meaning he would come across to others as very optimistic and philosophical.
his venus i think would be cancer! i think in love he would be deeply intuitive, nurturing and empathetic with his lover. just total sensitive, caring cancer nature.
