#starlynx

thanks for getting me stuck with the brainrot. glad I finally got to write my(? I think??) day of the dead au ❤️

//

They had managed to sneak in. The archer’s must be tired today, to not see and shoot down a large satyr demon, one who’s holding a much smaller night elf.

Illidan gently landed in a corner of Orgrimmar as to not draw attention to himself or Jarod. He and Jarod were mutually friends again, slowly building their relationship back up. And Illidan knew. He knew about Jarod’s dear little lynx.

And Jarod knew about Illidan’s little sunbird.

“Someone’s on the surface,” said Dath’remar, getting the attention of his great grandson, and his son, Anasterian and Kael’thas Sunstrider.

“Night elves,” Anasterian said.

Both Dath’remar and Kael’thas tensed. Kael looked over at his great great grandfather and sighed. His eyes were big with sadness; Kael’thas always had a heartbreaking sad face. It was how he got what he wanted with Anasterian, sometimes. He would give him those big old doe eyes that nobody could say no to. But, when they are truly sad, is when they hurt the heart.

“Grandfather,” Kael said, “What night elves could possibly be here?”

“Not sure,” said his grandfather. “But I will go up first.”

And he did.

He froze in his undead tracks. Jarod Shadowsong.

The love of his life, the man he regretted leaving every day, the man he prayed to Belore for every day, the night elf he loved, had finally come for him.

He could hardly believe his eyes; were the Shadowlands playing a cruel trick on him? Just torture? He wanted to lunge forward — wrap Jarod in his arms, have Jarod pick him up and twirl around like they used to…

Jarod stared at Dath’remar. He knew to expect Dath’remar, but nothing prepared him for the feeling that coursed through his veins when he saw his precious little lynx.

He, instead, took the lunge forward for the blood elf, and scooped the slightly taller man into his arms. Dath’remar let out a silent sob as he was picked up and he wrapped his arms around Jarod’s shoulders.

“Jarod,” he begged, although he didn’t know what he was begging for. All he had wanted for years, wandering the plains of Bastion, was just to see his starlight again. Bastion had too much sun; he missed the moon of his night, his dear Shadowsong.

When Jarod cupped his face, he felt alive again. Like he was really here.

After the sensation was swept away for a few moments, he looked at the other night elf. Was he even a night elf, anymore? His demonic features were imbalanced with kal’dorei, and the first thought he would have is that this… thing was completely demonic.

He looked closer. The way the hair was worn, and the scar over his eye.

Illidan Stormrage.

“You,” he hissed, expression turning sour. It was concerning; Sunstriders weren’t meant to frown.

“Hello, Dath’remar,” Even Illidan’s voice changed. It was low and rumbly, almost completely different. Like he had matured, but in intimidation.

“What are you doing here?” Dath’remar spat, letting go of Jarod for a moment. “I swore to Belore to never see your face aga—”

“I am not here for you,” Illidan said, curtly. “Where is your grandson?”

Jarod’s eyes widened, seeing the angry look on his love’s face. “Dath’remar—”

The blood elf pulled completely away from Jarod to approach the demon hunter, whom he was very much shorter than. “Oh, no. You think I didn’t hear all about you, you bastard?”

As Kael’thas sobbed, he felt a hand on his shoulder. His hair stuck to his face from the tears. “I’m so sorry, grandfather, I failed our bloodline—”

“You did not, child,” Dath’remar nearly sneered, “He did.”

“It’s all my fault…”

His great great grandfather frowned. “Is that what they told you, little one? That it was your fault?”

Kael nodded somberly, not daring to look the other Sunstrider in the eye. He sniffled, and only looked up when Dath cupped his face and met his gaze. “You did your best. I’m proud,”

Kael’thas’s eyes welled up with tears again.

Illidan shifted awkwardly. “I didn’t do anything,”

Dath’remar gave him a stare that would have ended anyone else. “Exactly. All he wanted was for you to help him, like you promised, and not walk all over him like everyone else. But that is exactly what you did, Stormrage.”

Illidan looked down.

Kael’thas was now beside his great great grandfather. They looked almost exactly the same.

Illidan’s eye lights widened. “Angel,” he said, quietly. “Angel eyes, you came. I—”

“Shut up, Illidan. Why are you in Kalimdor?”

Illidan’s face fell. “I was hoping to see you, sunrise,”

Dath’remar turned his glare to Kael’thas. “Go back down. With Ana. Now. Go.”

Kael glared back. “I can make my own damn decisions,”

“One of your decisions was him.”

Kael’s face fell sadly, and he looked at Illidan again. The demon hunter was hiding again. His face has fallen previously, now it was back up, like he didn’t feel anything. It seemed he hadn’t broken that habit.

He strode over to him. “Illidan,” he said, taking his large claw in his own soft hand. “I didn’t think you would come for me. Not… after Tempest Keep…”

“I wanted to, Kael, I…”

“Shh. Don’t explain. I understand,”

Dath’remar hissed. “Kael’thas. You are choosing him? Again? After what he did?”

“I love him.”

Dath’remar looked disappointed. And that was like a gut punch. He watched as he strode over to Illidan himself, and stared at him for a moment. Then, before he could react, he reeled his arm back and smacked Illidan across the face.

Illidan didn’t even move or stagger, but his head snapped sideways in a way that looked especially painful. He turned his head back to the blood elves.

“I deserved that,”

Kael’thas smiled weakly at Illidan. “I’ve missed you, moonlight. Will you come for me soon?”

“Always, my sunbird,”

Dath’remar couldn’t hide his smile. His hate for Illidan could be put aside, as he saw Kael was just so happy to see Illidan. To be with him. To touch and see and hear him.

He looked at Jarod again and hugged him close, his heart swelling more than it ever had before. He gave a smile as bright as the sun and kissed him deeply, tenderly. Like he wouldn’t again for years.

And he probably wouldn’t. The hunger for him was almost insatiable as the kiss turned devouring before one of them had the courage to pull away, Death wasn’t sure which.

“I’ll wait for you, darling. My darling starlight.”

tonight is the night, y'all!

don't miss ny based badass, ursula 1000!

w/ our very own,

Ursula 1000.

alex gimeno is brooklyn's finest producer/DJ/multi-instrumentalist.  mixing stuff all over the place from grand marnier to grey's anatomy, the faint to quincy jones... he throws down all kinds of crazy good jams: latin disco funk, electro, post punk, go go, sleaze glam rock... 

and holy shit. he's coming to beauty bar.

OCT 28.

 strange tribe productions and soul of the boot entertainment bring us

halloween edition/night fever xvlll

URSULA 1000's mondo beyondo album release

with

Starlynx + DJ Chicken George

9p-2am | 21+ | $7.00 Before 11p | $10.00 After 11p