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Anakin Skywalker.
The Chosen One.
Decorated War Hero.
A Jedi Knight… but not a Master, even after everything he has done for the Jedi and the Republic in the Clone Wars.
So close, and yet so far.
Just like everything in his life.
The tall, lean man throws his flesh-and-blood arm over his eyes and sighs heavily. Despite being in a comfortable bed in quarters that are only open to Jedi for staying in, it is still isolated and lonely. Obi-Wan is on yet another mission for the Council and things have fallen into one of the rare lulls that comes in war, signaling they’re currently in the eye of the storm. Even the Chancellor is there on Coruscant instead of off on some diplomatic mission on this or that planet, though Anakin hasn’t seen him in at least a fortnight.
The galaxy is feeling too peaceful. Anakin knows that it won’t – can’t – last forever.
The battles will begin to rage once more. Clones, Republic citizens, and fellow Jedi will fall in droves. And then who knows how much longer the death and destruction will go on?
Anakin feels the war between the Light and the Dark fighting the same war deep inside of his soul, with no end in sight.
It’s too much to think about right now.
He sits upright in bed, placing his head in his hands and gripping his hair while he tries to regain the mental balance he’s been fighting so hard to build these last few years. A few brown strands catch in the metal joints of his mechanical arm; the small pain brings a sharp sense of clarity and a rush of the thick undercurrent of power that throbs in his veins. The feeling pushes Anakin to stand and grab his robe, pulling it over his shoulders as he walks outside.
Coruscant’s nighttime air is pleasantly cool, but does little to quell the strange thirst that still licks at his insides. He stands out on the apartment balcony, leaning as far out as the protective bars will allow and squeezing the metal so tightly that he swears he feels a bone in his still-human hand crack. Still, he freezes there, eyes closed and trying to breathe life into the heart still beating emptily in his chest.
Soon his muscles itch from being stagnant for too long and he is in motion again. He pulls on his regular dark Jedi robes, summons his lightsaber with a lazy flick of his mechanical wrist, and leaves the apartment.
It’s late out, much later than he first thought. He hops on an airspeeder and sets off, paying little attention to direction and closing his eyes to enjoy the feel of the wind ripping through his long brown hair. He leans into the Force as he zooms along. There is nobody else out on the skylanes so there’s no risk of an accident, even if he was without the Force on his side.
The rush of adrenaline when he flies is a high that Anakin has never been able to capture with anything else. Not illicit substances, not sex, not throwing himself 110% into Jedi training (which he had been falling behind on more and more with his particular expertise so needed for the war)… nothing. Even this small airspeeder on an empty skylane is almost enough to temporarily fill this burning, aching, empty need inside of him.
Almost, but not quite.
He needs more.
His eyes snap open and he stops in the middle of the skylane to look at the building immediately to his right.
A cantina – perfect. And it looks like there are plenty of people inside, milling about and oblivious to the world – and the war – raging on around them. Something about all the soft, warmly inviting energy gathered in this tiny, ramshackle restaurant draws Anakin in; he finds himself parking the speeder and walking inside its welcoming glow.
There’s a pure, jovial air that attempts to pull Anakin in as soon as he steps over the threshold, bringing with it a cloyingly sweet smell that chokes him and makes him cough and splutter. Several pairs of eyes turn toward him and he waves them off as he makes his way up to the bar counter to get a drink. His breathing is already steadier, his strength returning. The smell must be his senses on overdrive. He pushes the thought away and sets his sights on getting a drink.
There’s a human behind the bar tonight, and thankfully one that Anakin doesn’t recognize. He doesn’t feel like answering questions, or talking about the war, or… anything. There has to be something here to ease his mind and dull the ache in the middle of his gut.
“What do you want?” The bartender finally makes his way to Anakin, who holds one hand up in the man’s direction.
“You offered me a Rebellion on the rocks on the house,” Anakin says. The bartender’s eyes glaze over and he nods vaguely while he turns to mix a fresh drink.
That was too easy. The lack of challenge makes Anakin’s skin feel itchy. He flexes his fingers, both the flesh and the mechanical.
He needs more.
He breathes in through his nose, out through his mouth. He has to get control of this festering hole inside of him, or he’ll simply keep expanding until he engulfs everything around him and destroys the world around him, taking everyone else along with him. He’s a ticking time bomb.
He feels less chained down with each sip of the drink the bartender hands him. The alcohol is doing its job and clouds begin to form inside Anakin’s skull. He settles into the bar stool he’s sitting on and traces the rim of his glass with a metal finger. An eerie humming sound starts up with the movement, but Anakin doesn’t notice through his haze.
“Sir,” a female voice floats through to him. He turns his head and looks at the speaker, which turns out to be a beautiful Twi’lek woman with softly-colored blue skin and hardly anything on. The large, round tray in one of her hands indicates that she must be one of the waitresses that works the floor. “Sir, that noise is bothering our other customers, would you please stop?”
“Apologies,” Anakin says. He stops and pauses before he waves a hand at the bartender again. The man behind the bar drops whatever drink he had been making and immediately begins Anakin’s fresh one. Anakin hands the other glass to the waitress, who takes it and shoots him a sour look, but says nothing.
He downs this drink quicker than the first and grins as he places the second glass upside-down on the bar. The booze is starting to really take effect; he can feel everything becoming… looser.
It’s a tiny, teasing taste of what could have been if he hadn’t been born as Anakin fucking Skywalker.
Sometimes he wonders if he really wants to become a Jedi Master after all.
Two more drinks later and Anakin is actually smiling, a sure rarity these days. He sways slightly in time with the strange music blaring from speakers somewhere in the ceiling overhead, but his body never loses its sharp edge. He rests with his back against the bar and his elbows propping him upright, but his shoulders are squared and ready, his eyes sweep from side to side in a constant state of assessment; the hand holding his fifth drink is squeezing the glass so hard that the knuckles are white. Other patrons of the cantina look both terrified and fascinated by him, stealing glances in his direction only when they’re absolutely sure he’s not going to catch them.
And then he sees Her.
He opens his mouth to call out her name, reaches out like he could pull her closer – but when she turns her head so he can glimpse her face, it’s the wrong profile.
He drains the drink still clutched tightly in his hand.
The hole is only getting bigger now, like its size has directly bonded to his level of intoxication and impossibly deep yearning. He’s glad the glass is empty now since there’s a lump in his throat that he can’t seem to swallow.
He needs more.
He needs someone different. Someone that can keep up with his needs and fill the chasm in his chest. This hunt isn’t over. He’s going to find the fix.
When he stands, it’s with renewed determination and a refreshed thirst. He orders another drink and takes it with him as he walks around the cantina, his eyes moving from woman to woman smoothly. Some return his gaze, but most look away, quailing easily under it. Even without knowing who he is, their survival instincts kick in and tell them to avoid this strange predator stalking around the dirty little pub.
Anakin isn’t interested in any of them anyway. None of these females would be a real challenge. He shakes his head, about to walk out of the place, when another Twi’lek female walks in. This one’s skin looks like it’s made of emeralds. She has a sweet-looking face with large lips set in a Cupid’s Bow to make up her mouth a deliciously enticing shape. She fiddles with her lekku while waiting for her drink, but something in her expression betrays an intelligent, cunning woman that intrigues Anakin. He can’t stop himself from walking over to her.
“Hello,” he says. His voice is thick with drink, but she doesn’t turn or shy away. Instead, she probes against him with the Force, trying to subtly figure out what this strange man’s deal is.
A challenge.
Anakin smiles. The woman’s eyes flash in warning of his advance. Her hands pull up to her chest, holding her drink against it subconsciously. Her body knows he’s a danger, but does her mind yet fully understand? He mentally pushes against her through the Force and nearly shouts with triumph when her resistance is strong, but wavering. She has substance to her, but is not infallible.
“How’s your drink?” Anakin asks. The woman has relaxed slightly now that she’s had a few sips of the one she previously clutched to her chest.
“It’s delicious, thank you,” she replies lightly. She takes another, longer drink and the conversation ends.
Carefully, skillfully, Anakin pushes against her mental shield with the Force. For a second, her expression flickers, and then the unease on her face is gone, replaced by neutral eyes and a slight frown. Her violet eyes bore into Anakin’s blue ones; he can’t erase the grin that has fixed itself to his face.
“Would you like another?” Anakin moves forward another inch. He can almost feel the heat of her skin through his Jedi robes and the draw to her is too much to resist. He’s decided he wants her, so now he’s got to get her. He refocuses his efforts and takes a deep, empowering breath.
Just a little… push…
“Yes, actually, I would,” the woman says. Her smile eases up and Anakin can see her whole body physically relax. She leans on the bar top and drains the beverage in her hand – it’s replaced within seconds with a fresh one handed to her directly from the bartender. His own drink is empty, but he’s not in a rush to have another. He is fresh, attentive, closing in quickly. This is his element.
“You’re not like everybody else here,” the woman says after she takes a large gulp of her new drink. Her words are already softening around the edges, just like her eyes. “There’s something so… strange about you.”
“As a Force user, you should be well acquainted with all matters of strange,” Anakin replies. He leans in so his voice is a low, sultry murmur in her ear. He deliberately brushes against the lekku behind it and she shivers.
“How did you know I can wield the force?” She asks. She brings the cocktail glass up to her lips and takes a sip.
“Oh, don’t be coy. I know you felt me before.”
She hesitates for a second. The debate on her face is obvious, but Anakin is patient.
“Yes. I did,” she finally says. Something about her admittance cracks her mental wall and Anakin finds himself starting to slide through. She’s perfectly ripe for the picking.
“Would you like to feel me again?”
He can feel her surprise at his forwardness through the bond he’s initiating with her. He can also feel the tiny part of her, hidden deep in the recesses of her mind, that perks up at his assertiveness. Anakin’s smile widens, he reaches out in his mind and surrounds that little part of her, offering it some nourishment. It had been so starved lately.
Not a second after he had reached out and touches her with his mind, her hands cup his face and pull him in for a rough kiss.
Perfect.
More.
“Not here,” he whispers against her perfect lips. “Somewhere… private.”
He likes to think that nobody has noticed how they’ve slipped from the bar completely wrapped in each other, but he knows that everyone always sees something. He won’t be back to visit, so it doesn’t matter.
Anakin kisses the Twi’lek – her name either forgotten or never received in the first place – until he has to get them both on the airspeeder. He jets down the empty skylanes, adrenaline pumping through him as he goes faster and faster. Lust rips at him in a combined effort with everything else in his head, reaching a dangerous peak when the woman’s hands manage their way into his pants and brush against his waking cock. He inhales sharply as his blood stars to accumulate in a different area than his brain. If he doesn’t stop soon, he’s not going to be able to contain himself.
Thankfully, there’s a light at the end of his proverbial tunnel in the shape of a grungy little motel. He parks the speeder and turns to kiss his new Twi’lek partner, gripping the base of her skull so hard with his hand as he presses their lips together that she flinches and tries to pull away in pain. He doesn’t let her, he won’t until he’s ready. When her hand unwraps subconsciously from his hardening cock, he decides that it’s time.
He tries not to think about kissing Her while moving through a rich, beautiful villa in Naboo all those years ago. She’s gone, it’s over. The woman currently in his arms and the run-down building they parked in are all he has right now. Anakin growls from low in his chest at the fresh tug on the aching hole inside of him.
This is not enough.
They find themselves in a private room; Anakin deliberately neglects to turn any of the lights on, leaving it drenched in an inky darkness that makes him even harder. He presses the Twi’lek up against the door as soon as it snaps shut, devouring her with hungry, fiery kisses that she half-expects to leave blackened scorch marks on her skin and pinning her arms up above her head so he’s in full control. Every second that they spend connected, Anakin pushes farther into her mind and takes over more and more of her. He can feel her resistance crumbling from the combination of desire and excitement currently sparking in her belly and he pushes harder, finally winning her over to his side.
She belongs to him now.
He strokes her lekku softly with his human fingers and she shudders against him. His hardness is pressed up against her belly and she tries to free her hands so she can reach out and touch him. He tightens his mechanical grip and pulls just far enough away that their lips stop touching.
“Don’t fight.”
Her muscles immediately relax in response to his command. He grins and begins to bite down her neck, leaving tooth imprints in some areas and drawing blood in others. If she cares, she can’t say, and her gasping moans only egg him on as he’s driven further into his frenzy. He laps at the blood that drips down her neck. Scarlet creeps into the corners of his vision and he has to force himself to pull away and take a breath before turning his attention back to the woman he’s holding and the screaming hole inside of him, demanding to be satiated.
He whirls around, the Twi’lek female still gripped in his arms. She grunts in surprise, but Anakin doesn’t hear it over the blood rushing in his ears. He stumbles with her to the bed and throws her down on top of the unforgiving mattress, which creaks and groans in protest. He’s back on top of her in a second, his hands roaming her body in a rough, hurried manner and his mouth kissing, sucking, and biting every inch of her skin that it can reach.
When his fingers find her clit, she jumps so hard that Anakin pulls away. She’s about to tell him to be more gentle when she catches sight of the strange yellowish pigment currently staining his irises…
All of her fearful thoughts melt away as his fingers push inside of her and begin to curl and move in ways that bring fireworks to her hazy mind. The flow of his fingers working in synchronicity with his mind moving around inside of her is too much and she climaxes. Her back lurches off of the bed and she cries out in ecstasy, but Anakin is nowhere near done. He slides his pants down and his cock springs free, ready and waiting for the attractive Twi’lek beneath him. He wastes no time in lining up and pushing into her warm pussy. He doesn’t wait for her to stretch or adjust; he moves in and out of her, consumed by the animalistic desire that has taken complete control of his mind and body. The being below him no longer exists as a separate entity; she is as much a part of Anakin in this moment as the organs currently working to keep him alive.
And he intends to take full advantage.
His metal hand makes its way to the Twi’lek’s throat as he pistons in and out of her. He begins to squeeze. A noise of protest erupts from deep in her throat, but the sound only feeds the bloodlust raging inside the man fucking her and he moves harder, swifter, with more force behind each thrust. It’s becoming painful for her now, but she can’t speak around the air being trapped in her throat. Panic seeps into her irises and something about the expression on her face touches a deep instinct within Anakin, one he thought long dead and buried: possession.
He still needs MORE.
The hand on her throat changes from mechanical to one of flesh and bone, but the strength inside the natural arm is not any less than the other. After years of hard training and exercise, Anakin Skywalker is a marvel of human achievement and the pinnacle of human physicality.
“Still – not – enough – ”
The same words erupting unknowingly from Anakin’s mouth instill a deep terror out of the woman he’s currently fucking with reckless abandon. The thought of losing her life right here, right now, in the arms of the man she’d only wanted to sleep with, caught hold of the woman and pushed her over the edge to accept her fate.
And yet, something in this moment calls out to her. It feels so familiar. The pieces circle in her mind, caught up in a whirlwind that she can’t decipher, until…
“You’re Anakin Skywalker,” she breathes when she finally realizes. “I… I remember you!”
Anakin covers her mouth with his free hand. He leans forward and envelops one of her perky little tits into his mouth, sucking hard and tasting blood. Suddenly, his essence is too tight to fit him inside and he loses track of everything. Nothing is real, nothing exists, there’s just him and the Force and this accompanying energy around him, he’s the most powerful being in this room, this planet, this galaxy, this universe –
It’s all over.
The bliss, feeling of being one with everything surrounding him, the perfect inclusion into the Force and this existence – all gone.
He feels emptier than ever.
Disgust floods his senses and he’s angry again. The starving hole is bigger, the need stronger, the thirst fiercer. Fucking this woman offered only a temporary pleasure. Surely, he’s not going to fall for something so quick and easy again.
But he also knows he can’t stop.
Something has to help quench the everlasting thirst that plagues him. There has to be more to this life: a meaning, a purpose, something. The desperation is overpowering, choking him, taking over all of his senses. His vision grays, his knees try to give out, and his whole, tall, imposing body sways. The woman on the bed with him still inside her panics, but is unable to move a muscle. All she can do is watch as the blue eyes of the Jedi on top of her change to yellow, then back to blue, and then finally landing somewhere in the middle with a dirty greenish color. The feral expression on Anakin’s face makes her stomach churn and her skin tingle and the Force tells her to get out, but she can’t since the Jedi’s arms are trapping her in, so she begins to hyperventilate…
Her world comes back to rightness at the same time his does.
Gasping, staggering, knocked off guard.
“See you next time, my dear,” Anakin says as he tries to pull himself together, hits the wall next to the bed, and slides down, still naked. He breathes heavily and tries to center himself enough to do what needs done. His hand moves up and waves in front of her face. “You’re to live life like nothing has happened here. Just like before.”
The Twi’lek’s face takes on a contemplative expression and Anakin sees the ability to fight and have conscious thought leech out of her body. She’s limp, pliable, exactly what he needs right now.
“In three days, tell someone that you met up with Anakin Skywalker,” he says after a sudden stroke of inspiration. “We drank, we fucked, and we moved on. You don’t know where I’m headed. You have no idea where I came from.”
Her empty-eyed nod is all he needs to feel confident that his half-cocked plan will work.
This time, he’ll truly break free.