#jarrok

[oolathurman]

Xyraan’s favorite man, Jarrok <3 

“What do you think?” “I like it SO much more than the green hoodie.”

jarrok belongs to @deficd​

[oolathurman]

Xyraan has a hard time adjusting to life on Odessen. There weren't exactly many jobs for civilians on the military base, even fewer for individuals whose resumés consisted of modelling or sugaring. She brought up the idea of modelling for any propaganda posters or even fighter nose art with Jarrok, once. She immediately broke into a fit of laughter seeing all sorts of emotions cross his face. She didn't bring it up again.

Odessen wasn't exactly a fashion capital either, and worse of all her skin had been protesting since she arrived. She was too accustomed to the humidity of Dromund Kaas (which, to be fair, was the second most humid planet in the galaxy, right behind Manaan) and there was no where near enough lotion or moisturizer to combat where her skin began breaking out. (How humiliating, to have acne when her skin was so dry! It really couldn't make up its mind!)

But she knew how she felt when she saw him stepping off the Gravestone after a long mission. More importantly, she knew how he felt to see her.

That was more than enough reason to stay.

[oolathurman]

ref | Jarrok belongs to @deficd

tbh i doubt that jarrok's actually short it's just that xyraan is super fucking tall and wears heels 90% of the time

[oolathurman]

From: Xyraan Yaumei

Subject: [None]

One year. One year ago, you got down on one knee, asking for my hand. One year ago, you told me you were to be stationed upon Darth Marr’s flagship. One year ago, I told you no, I couldn’t, shouldn’t marry you.

You deserve someone better. Someone with a name, a title, money, something. Not a nobody from a planet who hates the Empire, with a job that’s no where near reputable.

A month later, we received confirmation of Darth Marr’s death, and the destruction of his ship. Yet one year later, I cannot believe you’re gone. Or maybe I don’t want to believe you’re gone. Maybe all the stories of Sith ghosts has made me wish you’d come to haunt me, because the dreams haven’t been enough.

I’ve never seen what a ‘good’ romantic love looks like. It’s always been shattered promises and lies and masks. Maybe that’s why I never said anything all the times you told me you loved me. I never wanted to say ‘love,’ or even your name, in fear of bringing that into our lives.

I’ve been speaking with someone, a therapist of sorts. A small, small zabrak woman, who only wears white robes. Every time I speak with her and I bring you up, bring us up, she’s dashed away those fears. That even if I’ve never seen examples of what a good love looks like, I am living one.

Was living one.

I’m sorry that this is the first time I’m saying this, after your death. And I still believe you deserved someone better.

But I do love you, Jarrok Kosokhan. My handsome darling sith.

Come haunt me sometime, please.

- X

[oolathurman]

Xyraan and Jarrok thing. Since this is the first time I’m talking about them in forever, Xyraan is an OC of mine whom I love, she’s Jarrok’s sugar baby, and Jarrok is a sith warrior who belongs to a friend who afaik is no longer active on tumblr? 

tw sexual assault implications.

--

One more gala, one more dress. One more pair of shoes with red lacquered soles, and she glowed brighter than anyone in the ballroom. “You’re the best,” she said, kissing her darling Sith on the cheek. She had to bend down to do so; she was already taller than him without heels and now she towered. Jarrok grunted before guiding her by the waist to the dance floor, though no one was currently dancing. Instead, there was socializing. So. Much. Socializing.

It wouldn’t have been so tiring if so many of them weren’t backstabbing shits. And while he could carry out the conversations of Sith interested in their own wellbeing, it was a skill that he learned. For her, it seemed natural to flirt and compliment and butter up anyone she spoke with. That was, after all, how she made her way to his bed.

He wondered at times, what would have happened if she were born Force-Sensitive. There was little doubt that she could have been a great Sith were that the case. But she was soft, and certainly not ambitious by Sith standards at least. All she cared for was comfort and happiness, not power nor strength.

Maybe she wouldn’t have made a good Sith after all.

It hardly mattered, he decided, dismissing his imagination to turn his focus to the gala. She had disappeared into the crowd, no doubt to make conversation with some of the other partygoers. Only a moment later he heard her laugh, along with the laughter of three or so other individuals, so he picked up two flutes of champagne and made his way over to her.

“My lord, there you are!” she beamed as she saw him approach. She plucked a glass from his hand and placed another kiss on his cheek. Her lips parted, but before she could speak…

“Xyraan?”

She froze for a moment before turning slowly towards the speaker. A tall human cyborg man, taller than her, with wide shoulders and a predatory smile. “I thought I recognized you. How have you been?”

“Lord Ortur, what a surprise! I didn’t know you’d be here,” she smiled. Yet this smile…

She knew how to fake being entertained, she knew how to pretend to be nice. It was what she was good at. This wasn’t one of those smiles. Their conversation continued, and she had begun to cling to his arm, newly manicured nails digging into cloth and skin.

She’s nervous, he realized. So nervous she’s almost shaking in his arms. Not even Darths made her do that. Yet some no-name Sith he had never heard of has her stumbling over her words.

“Well, perhaps I will see you again, should fortune find me,” the cyborg chuckled before offering a slight bow. “It would be good to catch up.”

“It’d be a pleasure,” Xyraan forced a polite laugh. As the other Sith turned to walk away, she turned to face Jarrok, pale and shaking, excusing herself and practically running from the three other very confused Sith standing before them. He offered a half-assed apology before following.

Jarrok was stopped three times for conversation that he immediately dismissed himself from, but some of these older Sith were too damn good at keeping a conversation they forced on to you.

He found her in the stairwell. Her shoulders were hunched, shaking between sobs, and a small figure on the holocall soothed her the best they could.

“That— that bastard was here, he— he was here, he came up to me, and— and started talking with me, and—“

“Woah woah wait, Xixi.” Jarrok only knew one person that’d call her Xixi. Davi Mingxin, the zeltron individual from Nar Shaddaa. “Is this that Sith that…” Their voice trailed off when Xyraan nodded and her crying began anew. “… Shit.”

Davi let her cry longer, continuing to sooth her or at least damn well try. “You… wanna come over and crash here for a while? I can’t get rid of that man for you, but you know I got your back.” She sniffed and nodded, mumbling something Jarrok couldn’t make out. “I’ll start cleanin’ up the place for when you wanna come over, ‘kay?” She hiccuped and nodded. “I got you. Love you, girly.” She mumbled something back before hanging up.

For a moment he stood in stunned silence. And it ached when she flinched at the sound of the ring on his hand clanging against the metal stairwell. It ached when she whipped her head around, fear in her eyes and cheeks stained with tears. It ached when she did her damndest to smile at him. “My lord! I didn’t see you there.” Even now she was getting to her feet, wiping away tears, doing what she could to put on that perfect self that now shielded her from whatever she feared.

“I… I need to leave immediately,” she said, voice hoarse and shaking. “You’re welcome to stay, of course, but I’ll be heading back to the apartment. There’s a friend who needs my help, and—“

“I heard,” he said quietly. “Go back to the apartment. Don’t worry about the party.”

She did her best to smile again before leaving.

[oolathurman]

so i've had this very specific vision in my head regarding jarrok's apartment, which i entirely blame my mom the interior designer for. when i found out there's a website that'll render whole rooms for you... well i couldn't help myself :U

there'd be more wall art but this is the general gist of it. two beds, two baths, a rich person tub that can fit two or more people, a walk in closet the size of a new york apartment, all that good stuff. if i'm calculating right the entire thing's about 1800 sq ft?

and yes i had to get the eames arm chair. (god this is such a specific thing that no one but architects know about it's so nerdy help)

misc notes under a readmore

the fur rug is supposed to be a wampa

the stove hood should be higher

forgot to add kitchen cabinets

there may or may not be a tv in jarrok's room on the wall above the small seating area

laundry is in the guest bath

in the living room, on the wall between jarrok's room and the living room, is a tv/holo and a fireplace underneath.

clawfoot tub in the guest bath

i also didn't add shelving in the walk in closet but just imagine it's there ok

[oolathurman]

24, 32, 60 for Otp meme : D

OTP ask meme questions here!\

Thanks for sending these in! I'm gonna answer it for Xyraan and Jarrok.

24. Who’s more likely to give the other a massage?

So Xyraan gets facials to keep her eternal youth, and there's a facial massage that's done while they're pampering her and drowning her face in expensive skin care products.

I imagine that one day, Jarrok asked her why the hell those facials take so damn long, and what do they even do during them?

So she pulls his head into her lap and pretends to go through the steps. The slow gentle circles over the forehead, rubbing the nose bridge and temples, etc etc.

It's so relaxing that he falls asleep during it.

32. Who’s the better story teller?

Mmm I'm not sure what Jarrok's story telling prowess is like, but I like to imagine that Xyraan isn't very good at it lmao. She'll drop details, loop back on important parts, say things like 'Oh right, and before the XYZ that I talked about ten minutes ago, would you imagine that ABC happened?'

60. Who pulls the other closer when they’re sleeping?

HMM good question, one that I'm not 100% sure the answer of. I do however, like to imagine that it might depend on the weather. On colder days, Xyraan will pull Jarrok closer. On warmer days, Jarrok will do it to Xyraan, who may or may not protest bc it's too damn hot.

[oolathurman]

Mini fic of Davi confronting Xyraan about her Feelings TM for Jarrok. Jarrok belongs to @deficd

---

“You have got to stop literally running away from your problems.”

Xyraan looked up from her tabloid at the neon pink zeltron beside her drinking from a beer that was barely cooler than the room. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she informed them, offering a prim smile before looking back down. She was met with a pillow in her face.

“Bitch you know what I’m talking about,” they retorted, dodging the flying pillow back. “You’ve done this since we were kids. Every time you had a problem you couldn’t fix immediately, you’d run away from it, dodge the question – shit, you’re doing it right now – and hope it’d solve itself. But if this problem’s about your pretty boy sith, it ain’t gonna solve itse– ow!” Davi rubbed their forearm in the spot where her holopad hit them. “Stars, when’d you get so fuckin’ violent with the throwin’ and shit anyway?”

Deep down, she knew they were right. She was, in fact, running from her feelings. Complicated emotions that she never wanted to acknowledge, even if Lord Honos was one of the handful of people in the galaxy who ever made her feel safe. Davi was one of those highly esteemed individuals too, even if they were attacking her at the moment.

“I can’t imagine I’m as violent as the Mandalorian clan you apparently became a part of.” Xyraan pulled herself out of the tattered armchair to go pick up her holopad. “You still haven’t told me the story of how you joined.”

Davi snorted. “Beefy nautolan sees me at the spacer-themed gay bar squaring up to an old pervert, helps me throw pervert out of cantina, fucks me afterwards cuz the bar fight turned her on, and then asks if I’d ever thought of becoming Mando. Stop ignoring the question.”

“After you’ve suddenly raised so many more?”

“Fuck you, Xixi. Stop ignoring the question, or start payin’ rent. You’ve already been here a week.”

Xyraan sighed and plopped herself back down in the armchair. “Maybe if I paid rent you’d be able to afford better furniture.” 

That earned her another pillow to the face.