I write to you with a broken heart: I will not forget those who see my plea and ignore it. My child is withering away before my eyes, and my strength as a mother is no longer enough to save him alone. Pleaseâhelp me, share, and donate now. Don't let your silence cause me to lose my child.
My child lives in a tent lacking the most basic necessities, in harsh conditions unsuitable for his health. With each passing day, his suffering increases and his health is put at greater risk. Every moment that passes means more pain for him. Please, your donation could be the reason his life is saved.
I am a mother appealing to your compassionate hearts not to leave my child alone in this battle. If you are unable to donate, your contribution may reach someone who can help. Compassion works miracles, and one donation today could give my child a chance to live tomorrow.
Under the war you waged against us, we lost everything: our home, our money, our businesses, and even our clothes. I paid for everything I had in my home and my businesses because of the bombing we witnessed every day. To this day, we have been displaced several times, and the first night was extremely difficult. As a result, my children became exhausted due to malnutrition and lack of food and medicine.
Help Ayaâs Family in Gaza
Hello. I am Halina, a friend of Aya in the United Sta⊠Halina Kraft needs your support for Shelter and Hop
I never imagined I would have to write something like this. My life changed suddenly after a serious health problem that left me unable to work. Since then, every day has been a struggle just to provide the basic needs for my family.
The hardest part is watching my child suffer while I canât always afford the medicine or the things he needs. As a parent, feeling helpless in front of your childâs pain is something that breaks the heart.
Iâm doing everything I can to get back on my feet, but right now I truly need help. Even a small donation or sharing this message could make a real difference for us.
Thank you to anyone who chooses to stand with us during this difficult time. đ
"The Alaa family lived a peaceful and stable life in their beautiful home. Alaa and her⊠Ola Moh needs your support for Help Olaâs Family Fi
â Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is (#514)â
And while this is happening while people are buried under rubble, while children freeze in tents, while entire families vanish overnight powerful men sit comfortably and present plans for a âNew Gaza.â
Clean slides. Perfect buildings. Investment numbers. A future imagined without the people who are currently being erased.
They talk about peace while bombs are still falling. They talk about rebuilding while destruction is ongoing. They draw maps over land that is soaked with blood and call it hope.
The ceasefire is a lie.
Whatâs happening is ethnic cleansing, repackaged with the language of development and diplomacy. You cannot build a ânewâ city by destroying the people who belong to it. You cannot promise a future while actively killing the present.
This isnât peace. Itâs violence with better branding.
Today, three journalists were killed in a single airstrike.
Not soldiers. Not fighters. Journalists. People who believed that if they kept documenting, if they kept filming, if they kept writing, the world would eventually care.
In Gaza, telling the truth has become one of the most dangerous things you can do. Holding a camera is treated like holding a weapon. Every photo risks your life. Every report could be your last.
They had names. Families. People waiting for them to come home. They were not numbers, and they were not mistakes. They were silenced because truth is inconvenient, because images expose what statements try to hide.
When journalists are killed, itâs not just lives that are lost itâs evidence. Itâs memory. Itâs the last barrier between reality and denial.
âŠ
Donations for GAZA
This donation campaign is for ANAS family. Not for strangers, not for a cause Iâm distant from but for the people who raised me, the people I love, the people Iâm terrified of losing.
They are in Gaza, trying to survive something no human being should ever have to endure. Constant bombardment, displacement, hunger, fear, and the feeling that tomorrow is never guaranteed. Every day is about staying alive one more night.
If you choose to help, you are not donating to an abstract crisis. You are helping real people with names, memories, and lives that matter to me more than anything.
đ This is a verified Chuffed campaign to support family:
Campaign UpdateÂ
If you canât donate, please reblog. Visibility is sometimes the only protection we have left.â€ïž
Some accounts are tagged to help people see this campaign. Itâs not spam. If you donât want to participate, simply scroll.
A lot of elaboration for him and his AU in text below:
The Lamb ( or Eve, as he was once known ) lived in Anchordeep prior to execution. He was a petty thief who oftentimes got sick due to having to raid dead old faith followers for food and money. Survived all of it. Had an ill defined situationship with Kallamar who found the little freak who resisted all illnesses fascinating .
Kallamar . Doesnât know that Eve, the person he knew, was a lamb. He just knows they disappeared shortly after the Lamb died.
that sacrificial beast gives him a familiar ache in his chest. He presumes its fear. But their voice is familiar, despite the crown echoing all their sentiments.
they resisted sacrifice at the last second, causing a mis - swing from the executioner and splitting them in half đ The crown effectively keeps their body together, the eye embedded into their skull post - ascension.
When they go crusading it pops out like Narinderâs eyes during his bossfight. Curses cause the skin on their arms to burst open and split at the seams. They can usually just. Reseal it after battle . But it leaves them exposed . The bigger the curse the more their body splits . If itâs big enough it can expose what organs they still have .
Due to. All of that. Theyâre incredibly fragile. And have an affinity for diseased or blue hearts. And Ratoo. Thatâs their dad . They have a habit of coming off as stoic and usually being dismissive and abrasive but once they favour you they become awkward and deadpan . They silently sit with Ratoo and sing along with him ( off key )
They bury no bodies, itâs a waste of food. They take their followers money and hoard all their wealth. They very clearly spoil their favoured followers with gifts and refuse to let them permanently die. They go drinking on the weekends with their disciples, theyâd indulge in menticide if they could, and they Hate That Fucking Cat ( Narinder ) .
they assumed that once their job was done, heâd let them roam free and find a more natural death. What trust Was there was broken when he told them to lay down their head and accept their presumably permanent death.
so if youâre new here hi,, Ballad of Jane Lamb is TL;DR, about the Lamb losing their head when being sacrificed and having it replaced with the Red Crown. Thereâs more, but I canât summarize it all rn
So part of the timeline!! Weâre starting with the Lambâs death since I havenât fleshed out backstory yet :)
Lamb dies at the hands of the gods. Loses their head. âWakes upâ with no senses. Just the clouds under their wool and the vague feeling of their very soul being tugged. With enough force and time, they feel a giant, cold, almost boney surface gently touch where their head? Neck? should be.
Just as sudden as the loss of sense, it all returns all at once. They can hear chains rattling, see colours in a slightly red hue, feel the âwindâ on their âface,â and see a giant figure before them. The guards at his side stare at you as he speaks without moving his head. Explaining the deal. Your return to life for his help. Simple enough.
Reincarnates for the first time. Red Crown shifts to a sword. Ratau has to guide them out as they stumble across the battlefield. They keep almost hitting the poor guy when trying to get a look at him.
Rescuing of first follower and arrival at camp grounds. They gesture for the lost soul to follow them. Takes their hands, guides âem. The poor guy offhandedly goes âhah, glad I didnât die!â and the Lamb almost instinctually goes to turn and Look. New follower quiets down and helps them clean up. After some unsuccessful motioning, they start to get it together. Playing kinda - charades
Lamb quickly finds out the Red Crown accentuates their senses- finds loud noises disturbing. So they start politely encouraging people to quiet down. Kind of works. Not fully.
More followers come, and the season changes for the first time! The cult celebrates what they have done so far. They toast and laugh and the Lamb is sat at the head of the table. Faced with all this food, and unable to eat any of it. They force the Crown to smile, imitate laughing. Cultists find it vaguely disturbing, but join in when the Crown starts to glare at them.
More later ( Iâll either edit or reply to this )
very fond of the song Ballad of Jane Doe,, haunting notes and scales and the intrinsic sadness of her story,, made me think awhile back,, about if the Lamb lost their head,, body horror warning for whatâs coming probably + rambling
^ thoughts from BamSaraâs post about Lamb interpretations
the crown being a thing able to change shape has always fascinated me,,. I do think the Lamb treats it like its own person? But theyâre very codependent for. Obvious reasons. Theyâre partners in crime ( much to Narinderâs chagrin )
I love exploring this theme but a lot of the cult is,, repressed via silence. The lamb, despite their cheerfulness, enjoys silence and quiet introspection. They used to let their followers just,, talk,, but talking leads to DIFFERENT IDEAS!! A bad thing. A lot of speaking is of necessity, whispers passed between people getting married,, ( speaking of marriage I do think thereâs a lotta arranged marriages. The Lamb prides themself on being a matchmaker. The Crown does a lotta it. )
Also theyâve probably got the perk that lets you just sacrifice followers. Very normal ritual. You dissent? You die. Albeit thatâs usually by murder. And then youâre brought back because âdeath was kind enough to return you to us, despite your denial of Him!â
Thereâs more I might add later if anyoneâs interested shrug
There are moments when it feels like the world has moved on, like everything weâve lost is just another story that people scroll past. But every now and then, kindness reminds us that we are not forgotten.
Today, weâve reached $1,580 out of $90,000, and while itâs still a long way from what we need, itâs proof that people still care. That hope still exists.
I never thought I would be in a position where I had to ask for help just to survive. 25 members of my family are gone. Our home has been reduced to rubble. Every day is a fightânot just for survival, but to hold onto the smallest piece of dignity.
đ No stability, no safety, no certainty.
đ Evacuations, grief, and endless struggles.
đ Dreams on hold, because survival comes first.
But through all of this, your kindness gives me strength.
Even if you canât donate, just sharing this post helps us reach more people who might be able to. Your supportâno matter how smallâmakes all the difference.
My name is Mosab Elderawi, and I am a survivor of the war in Gaza. Life as I knew it has been completely destroyed. I have lost my home, my
đ If this post has reached you unexpectedly, I truly apologize. I promise I wouldnât be asking if we werenât in desperate need. If this isnât for you, please feel free to ignore it. No hard feelings at all.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you. Your kindness is the only reason we still have hope. â€ïž
Hey everyone, my name is Abdelmajed, and I want to share a little bit of my journey with you.
I was born and raised in Gaza, a place I once called home. Life was simple but beautiful. I remember sitting with my family in the evenings, drinking tea and telling stories. I remember walking through the streets, greeting neighbors, feeling like I belonged. I remember celebrating birthdays, laughing over silly jokes, and dreaming about the future.
But in the blink of an eye, everything changed. My home is gone. My family is not whole anymore. My city is unrecognizable. đ The streets that once felt so safe are now filled with emptiness. The laughter has been replaced with silence.
And yet, I hold onto my memories. Because memories remind me of who I am, where I come from, and what truly matters. They remind me that love, family, and connection are stronger than destruction.
If youâre reading this, take a moment to appreciate the little things. Hug your family, tell someone you love them, appreciate the warmth of home. These small moments are what truly make life beautiful. đ
And I'm now waiting to be Vetted by @gazavetters đ
My name is Abdelmajed, and I am a survivor of the war in Gaza. Everything I once knew has been taken awayâmy home, my safety, and the people
Hell ain't big enough for the both of us @cherfirefly - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
