𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣 𝙨𝙠𝙮𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨

• immoral •

some kind of weird au where the jedi are actually the mafia. don't ask just read

warning: mature themes such as murder, mentions of sex, dark!anakin, not wholesome, very dark, glamorization of mobsters and crime in general. readers beware 😊
   

       
     
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Your pen taps inaudibly against your notepad. The page is empty, save for the words, "A.S. Session 1" titled at the top. The last time you used the pen was twenty-five minutes ago, and your impatience is at an all time high. You remain calm, though. You owe it to your years of hard work and your patients to remain calm.

Deciding you've had enough, you clear your throat and sit up. "What's on your mind, Mr. Skywalker?"

His eyes flicker up from the ground to your face. Slowly, a smirk grows on his lips. "If I told you the truth, you'd ask me to leave."

"I'm sure that's not true, Mr. Skywalker," You reply calmly, tilting your head. "Try me."

Slumped down in his chair, he keeps his hooded eyes focused on yours, his pupils enlarging. "I'm trying to imagine what your skin tastes like."

Offering him a small, professional smile, you sit up. "I take it you've never had a therapist before?"

Anakin shakes his head. "You're my first."

"In that case, it's understandable that you're confused about my role," You tell him with a tone of reassurance. "We're here to talk about you, Mr. Skywalker, in a safe space."

He bites down on his lip, looking you up and down. "What's your favorite sex position?"

"Sex; good idea," You said, causing his face to light up as you leaned forward. "Let's talk about your sex life, Mr. Skywalker. Do you feel fulfilled in that department?"

Laughing dryly, he shakes his head. "Not since she died."

You note that down, before looking back up at him. "And do you feel any regret for what happened to Vienna?"

Anakin snorts, spreading his legs slightly as he rests his hands on the armrests of his chair. "Do I fuck."

"Right," You mumble. "Do you regret any of the consequences you faced for killing her?"

"Besides the lack of sex? No," He answers you. "I mean, Obi-Wan's been fucking annoying ever since, but it's nothing I can't handle."

You almost envy the man sitting before you. Here sits one of the most powerful and privileged men on Coruscant, and probably in the galaxy, facing no repercussions for murdering his wife besides his boss being annoying. 

Working for the mafia has its ups and downs. You're protected, and so are your loved ones. The pay is incredible, not to mention the bonuses when you have to deal with cases such as Anakin's. At the same time, you could be dragged into an interrogation room and pressed for all the secrets you were trusted with at any minute. And you had to deal with arrogant assholes like the one you're currently staring at.

Anakin doesn't want therapy; that much is obvious. He has been forced into attending by Kenobi after two years of reckless behavior, kicked off with the murder of his wife.

"Why did you do it?" You ask, allowing your curiosity to get the better of you.

He chuckles darkly, resting his hand on his thigh. "What are you gonna do, doc? Fix me?"