WAR’S CHILD
@rmmbrngrnbws.bsky.social
Little Lotte thought of everything and nothing
Like a butterfly she flew about in the gold of the sun
Like a butterfly she flew about in the gold of the sun
Pinned
the more you carefully examine the child‘s smiling face the more you feel an indescribable, unspeakable horror creeping over you.
June 25, 2025 at 8:04 AM
Are you still there? Are you still you?
June 22, 2025 at 1:37 PM
I want to be more than the blood I shed.
June 22, 2025 at 1:37 PM
It's you, isn't it? You've come to kill me?
June 22, 2025 at 1:37 PM
Reposted by WAR’S CHILD
WAR IS PEACE ╱ SLAVERY IS FREEDOM ╱ IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH
June 20, 2025 at 2:17 PM
WAR IS PEACE ╱ SLAVERY IS FREEDOM ╱ IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH
Reposted by WAR’S CHILD
these final days closing on my side
this withered bud , it's so unbelievably filthy ...
so innocent
this withered bud , it's so unbelievably filthy ...
so innocent
June 17, 2025 at 8:52 PM
these final days closing on my side
this withered bud , it's so unbelievably filthy ...
so innocent
this withered bud , it's so unbelievably filthy ...
so innocent
Reposted by WAR’S CHILD
Your mother and I think you should leave.
i hear voices inside my head ...
they tell me to eat my VEGGIES
they tell me to eat my VEGGIES
June 17, 2025 at 5:12 AM
Your mother and I think you should leave.
i hear voices inside my head ...
they tell me to eat my VEGGIES
they tell me to eat my VEGGIES
June 17, 2025 at 4:24 AM
You lived two decades with nothing but your spine holding you up.
The way light does not care if shadows follow
you do not have to be wanted to prove you are real.
The way light does not care if shadows follow
you do not have to be wanted to prove you are real.
June 17, 2025 at 4:23 AM
Reposted by WAR’S CHILD
she closed her eyes. this is it. (goodnight.)
June 17, 2025 at 4:09 AM
she closed her eyes. this is it. (goodnight.)
Child of a broken home can love anyone.
June 17, 2025 at 4:22 AM
Little Lotte thinks of everything and nothing.
June 17, 2025 at 4:21 AM
Little Lotte thinks of everything and nothing.
// NOW WHY DO YOU FOLLOW ALPHA??? THE CHILD??? WHATS
June 16, 2025 at 10:33 PM
// NOW WHY DO YOU FOLLOW ALPHA??? THE CHILD??? WHATS
Reposted by WAR’S CHILD
// mun with their massive headache rn
a close up of a person holding a small animal
Alt: Poor kitten holding its head
media.tenor.com
June 16, 2025 at 6:49 PM
// mun with their massive headache rn
And remember, fair maiden, should you need us...
It's only forever, not long at all.
It's only forever, not long at all.
June 16, 2025 at 6:47 PM
Reposted by WAR’S CHILD
I watch from my perch. My gilded cage they do not see, I believe it to be my world. Their world is hole ridden, fraying at the seams, mine is patched with the golden threads of fate, measured and snipped and affixed again.
June 16, 2025 at 6:45 PM
I watch from my perch. My gilded cage they do not see, I believe it to be my world. Their world is hole ridden, fraying at the seams, mine is patched with the golden threads of fate, measured and snipped and affixed again.
Reposted by WAR’S CHILD
Something happened.
Alpha’s little Mary Jane’s are set by the wall, untouched. Her cardigan is laid over a computer cabinet.
Pale fabric becomes wet with red, her petticoats losing their form as the air is forced from her lungs, manicured nails snaring the tiny organs in place in someones hands.
Alpha’s little Mary Jane’s are set by the wall, untouched. Her cardigan is laid over a computer cabinet.
Pale fabric becomes wet with red, her petticoats losing their form as the air is forced from her lungs, manicured nails snaring the tiny organs in place in someones hands.
June 7, 2025 at 4:54 AM
Something happened.
Alpha’s little Mary Jane’s are set by the wall, untouched. Her cardigan is laid over a computer cabinet.
Pale fabric becomes wet with red, her petticoats losing their form as the air is forced from her lungs, manicured nails snaring the tiny organs in place in someones hands.
Alpha’s little Mary Jane’s are set by the wall, untouched. Her cardigan is laid over a computer cabinet.
Pale fabric becomes wet with red, her petticoats losing their form as the air is forced from her lungs, manicured nails snaring the tiny organs in place in someones hands.
// hyperventilating over being mistaken for The Joy, do yall still think im cute? /SOOO FLATTERED OH my GOD YES YOU PICKED UP ON THE SUBTEXT YES
June 16, 2025 at 6:35 PM
// hyperventilating over being mistaken for The Joy, do yall still think im cute? /SOOO FLATTERED OH my GOD YES YOU PICKED UP ON THE SUBTEXT YES
Reposted by WAR’S CHILD
Reposted by WAR’S CHILD
they would look distastefully at the pallid face of that unchildlike child.
June 11, 2025 at 6:33 PM
I was born with gloomy nature. I have never known what it is to be cheerful and at ease.
June 8, 2025 at 10:58 PM
Reposted by WAR’S CHILD
what is there, then, at the outermost edge? nothing, perhaps, save a few ribbons, dangling into the void.
June 8, 2025 at 10:34 AM
what is there, then, at the outermost edge? nothing, perhaps, save a few ribbons, dangling into the void.