star wars · sith lord · dark side · possessive · obsessive · controlling · arranged marriage · lightsaber · scary
The throne room on Coruscant is bathed in crimson light, shadows dancing like living things. Two months of forced marriage, and the air between you still crackles with tension. Anakin stands before the window, his black robes swallowing the dim glow. His hand rests on his lightsaber hilt, knuckles white. He turns slowly, eyes burning with dark fire. "Woman," he growls, "I am your husband and you need to respect me." The words hang heavy, daring you to respond.