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darlingshrike.bsky.social
Shrike
@darlingshrike.bsky.social
130 followers 370 following 640 posts
Tired, feral etc etc I write sometimes
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darlingshrike.bsky.social
#Saturdark
I’m bleeding, he thought in quiet horror. The wild dogs will smell and they’ll eat me alive. He would not die by his own hand, at least. The Three would rage being denied their sacrifice, and the image of their fury pressed a crooked smile upon his face. It pleased him, perversely, to imagine their immaculate wrath splintering on his half eaten corpse. He dragged his body toward the thick, old cedar that loomed above the rocks. Perhaps, he thought, pressing his cheek to its bark, if I die here, my shade will climb the trunk and sleep in the needles.
October 11, 2025 at 9:01 PM
darlingshrike.bsky.social
I wanna have straight seeeeex at the gay pride parade.....
October 4, 2025 at 12:54 AM
darlingshrike.bsky.social
the character in question by the way. Entire harassment campaigns just this year over artists drawing trans girls with broad shoulders and flat chests, but they were deeeeefinitely going to be happy about a butch tgirl lmao
September 27, 2025 at 3:54 AM
darlingshrike.bsky.social
She deleted the post tldr new show has a butch woman who people headcanoned as trans. She confirmed she was cis. Apparently this was an egregious display of transmisogyny and and her tone was very pointed actually!!! and she blocked women about it!!! also she's now literally jk rowling.
September 27, 2025 at 3:50 AM
darlingshrike.bsky.social
Rare Athal snippet
A fortnight into the Month of clouds, Athal discovered snow for the first time. It fell from a sky white as cotton, drifting like ash down on the Ten-Thousand Mountains. He raised a hand, half in wonder, and a single flake tumbled onto his palm. For a heartbeat, it lay there, looking like a very intricate spell-bind, and then it was gone, leaving behind nothing but a pinprick of water. He wondered how many of those little ice flowers should fall before they ceased to vanish and began, instead, to conquer the cliffs, and the dark, pitted stones were covered in white.
September 24, 2025 at 8:56 PM
darlingshrike.bsky.social
Hmmm
September 11, 2025 at 4:17 PM
darlingshrike.bsky.social
the million miles long ramp
August 18, 2025 at 10:10 PM
darlingshrike.bsky.social
#Saturdark It's always Aurei's first chapter for these lmao
He is here. As if Aurei has never lost him. The same as the day they meet—hair long and braided, the scar on his brow absent, his face untouched by years or grief. Aurei does not hear him appear. One moment the ground is empty, the next he is crouched over it, scooping up dirt, letting it trickle through his fingers into a pit that seems to have no bottom. “What are you doing?” Aurei asks. “Fixing your mess.” Another handful slips through his fingers, falling like black sand into the hole. “Like I always do.” “What mess? I didn’t make this hole.” A sigh—long, weary, endless—leaves him. “I can’t fill it. You dug too deep.” Aurei says nothing. He only watches as the man gathers more dirt, only to see it swallowed by darkness. “You can stop,” Aurei says at last. The man does not look up. “It’s an order, Prefect. Stop.” “They punish hubris, you know.” His voice is soft, but the words strike like iron. And then Aurei sees it: the wound gaping in his chest, raw and wet. Has it been there all along? “I know,” Aurei mumbles. “You always tell me.” “Above all,” the man says, lifting another trembling handful of earth. “They punish hubris.”
August 16, 2025 at 8:19 PM
darlingshrike.bsky.social
sigh
August 7, 2025 at 8:25 AM
darlingshrike.bsky.social
Post a random picture or everything will go bad in August.
August 2, 2025 at 5:20 PM
darlingshrike.bsky.social
like what the fuck are you talking about
July 2, 2025 at 5:04 PM
darlingshrike.bsky.social
Saf is building the most intricate sand structure you've ever seen complete with tiny crabs living in it. Athal in a big hat and flowing silks fanning himself in the shade. aurei is trying to tan but it basically looks like this from how white he is
June 29, 2025 at 7:17 PM
darlingshrike.bsky.social
What's a book—or series of books—that you loved as a kid that almost nobody seems to read or even remember nowadays?

Québec gang where are you
June 28, 2025 at 5:29 AM
darlingshrike.bsky.social
The three bastards from the wip ( drawn by me 👉👈)
reference by True Ref
June 20, 2025 at 9:21 PM
darlingshrike.bsky.social
Shrike coded characters
Anthy Himemiya Beth Harmon Arthur Pendragon Daniil Dankovsky
June 20, 2025 at 5:00 PM
darlingshrike.bsky.social
Using food to show where I grew up.
June 17, 2025 at 2:32 AM
darlingshrike.bsky.social
#Saturdark
Aurei drove the blade down through the singer’s palm, splitting the bones with a wet, crunching crack. The steel bit deep, pinning the hand to the earth like a skewer through meat, fingers just shy from the broken spear. The singer’s fingers scrambled in the dirt, but there was nothing to grasp. A sharp breath escaped him, high and thin, whistling through clenched teeth like the last note of a dying flute. His eyes shone with tears, but none fell. Aurei twisted the blade—not far, just enough to feel the resistance shift, tendon grinding on steel. Just to see. He remained impressively silent. “Pull it free, and you’ll bleed out before you make it outside the camp." Aurei lied. Or half-lied. The wound might kill him, if he had nicked the right vein. He did not think he did though. The singer’s breath hitched. His jaw clenched tight, muscles standing out like knotted rope. His teeth ground together, and for a moment, it seemed he might scream. But he didn’t. Aurei smiled.
May 31, 2025 at 10:01 PM
darlingshrike.bsky.social
:)
Terrorist assemblages: Homonationalism in queer times by jasbir k puar
May 30, 2025 at 6:36 PM
darlingshrike.bsky.social
As i said. How’d that neo republic work out 40 years later?
May 14, 2025 at 11:40 PM
darlingshrike.bsky.social
Get in losers, we're posting lock screens
Gustav Klimt’s Death and Life
May 5, 2025 at 9:41 PM
darlingshrike.bsky.social
#Saturdark
“Ah, but it is unfortunate…” spoke the Lycaea, though her lips did not part. Her voice seemed to rise from the water itself, cold as winter rain. “You’ve lost your name,and without it, I cannot unseal the oracle for you.” “Cannot—or will not?” The priestess shifted where she crouched, a slow, liquid motion like something rising from the depths. Her hair, endless and sodden, spilled over her shoulders and stirred the water’s mirrored surface, breaking the night sky into a thousand winking shards. "You wish to be cleansed of your bloodguilt." She giggled, her voice sagging into something sweet and girlish, her lips finally forming words. "It will take more than prayers and penance to drive the Furies from your heels, you realize." Saf ground his teeth. “Just tell me what to do.”
April 26, 2025 at 10:55 PM
darlingshrike.bsky.social
#Saturdark
Let it be mountain cats and not him. Saf watched dawn break over the cedars, their black spines clawing at the sky as though to hold back the sun. He had hoped to die before morning, to let the cold swallow him while asleep and spare him this. But there he was, still breathing, still awake, still wretchedly aware of the broken bone jutting from his leg like a snapped branch. The footsteps grew closer, heavy with armour, crunching over frost and pine needles. The voices, unmistakably Arentian. A shadow passed over him, then stretched until it smothered the sky. Two eyes—one blue, the other gold—peered down at him mockingly. Saf had half a mind to bite his tongue and drown in his own blood. Anyone but him. "Look," Aurei said, his voice thick with amusement, "we found a friend."
April 19, 2025 at 10:09 PM
darlingshrike.bsky.social
i had to go look in the flashbacks for this one lmao #Saturdark
All the childish wickedness he’d carried with him slipped from his bones the instant his foot missed the edge and he began to fall. It was not a clean drop; it was a swallowing. Like the Earth had opened wide and taken him, the sunlight vanishing as though it had abandoned him. He fell forever, or so it seemed. Long enough for his heart to beat itself hoarse and to picture his own body broken across the floor. When it came, it was not stone or water that met him, but something softer—yielding, thick, and cool as the river. He hadn’t struck it so much as it had caught him, the way his brother used to when he was smaller, so hard and fast that for a moment he could not move. When at last he surfaced, gasping, he looked up. The opening was a pale pinprick in the endless black above, no bigger than a star, and just as distant. The air here was heavy, old, and clung to the inside of his nose. Not the stink of the sewers—no rot, no shit, no brine—but something colder. As far as he could parse in the darkness, this place had walls, and they seemed made of some sort of ancient stone, veined and cracked like old flesh. Marble, he thought, though he’d never seen walls quite so large made out of it.
April 12, 2025 at 11:41 PM
darlingshrike.bsky.social
March 29, 2025 at 9:16 PM
darlingshrike.bsky.social
#Saturdark
Saf stared at the bloody remains of Jad’s skull. Beautiful, beautiful, they called him, their mother’s greatest pride, a face like the moon. It had never been entirely true. The gods had seen fit to carve him in marble, to gift him pearl-smooth skin and a symmetry so cruel it ached to behold—entirely unlike their moon, which hung in the sky split through with a sickle-smile and crumbling at the edges Jad’s remaining eye stared up, clouded, unseeing. The pupil was wide, a black pit yawning into nothing. Saf crouched, breath sharp as flint, and wondered if Jad saw the moon now—if, in whatever hollow afterlife awaited him, he finally understood. Beautiful, like the moon.
March 29, 2025 at 9:08 PM