Random headcannon but I like to think the rogues are more street fighters (duh) while McCulloch can actually fight. He was a hit man/ assassin for a while plus was taken in by the government I feel like he would definitely have training and be really skilled in it.
Before I write this, I paused for a long time… I didn't know where to begin.
My name is Nasr. This is my first Ramadan without my mom and my sister. The emptiness they left behind isn't just in our home — it's in every moment, every suhoor, every iftar.
I am the oldest among my younger siblings, and a responsibility I never imagined now rests on my shoulders. I try to stay strong in front of them, I try to smile and make them feel like everything is okay… but deep inside? I'm scared.
Eid is coming… and I don't know how to bring them joy. These kids deserve happiness. They deserve Eid gifts. They deserve a smile.
At the same time, my dream of continuing my university education has been delayed — not because I don't want to, but because the circumstances are bigger than me.
I'm not asking for pity. I'm asking for a helping hand.
Any support, no matter how small, will make a huge difference for me and my little siblings this Ramadan and Eid.
🔗 Donation Link:
My name is Naser AbuThaher. I’m 18 years old, and I live in Gaza.
Please help us Here you will find a link to donate to families in Gaza 😔❤️🙏
What you’re about to read isn’t a story it’s what remains after a home, a street, and a future are taken away !!
Sorry for the mentions @ ,this isn’t spam, sharing this so it can reach more people🥺💔💔💔
Hello everyone 🙏
We are Anas’s family, and this is our story from Gaza.
I never imagined I would be writing something like this, or sharing pieces of our life this way, but here we are. As you can see in the photos and videos I’m sharing, everything around us has changed. The place we once called home no longer exists. We lost our house, our land, and the life we spent years building, piece by piece, with memories that can never be replaced.
Today, we live in a tent. This thin fabric is all that separates us from the cold nights, the heat during the day, and the constant fear that never really leaves. Privacy is gone, comfort is gone, and safety feels like a distant memory. Every morning starts with the same question: how will we get through today?
Simple things that once felt normal are now daily struggles. Cooking means lighting firewood, breathing in smoke, and hoping we can find enough food to last. There is no electricity, no gas, no certainty. Just survival, one meal at a time.
Inside the tent, everything is cramped. This is where we sleep, rest, and try to feel human again. There is no silence here, only the sounds of drones, explosions, and the weight of uncertainty. Nights are the hardest. Fear gets louder when the world goes quiet.
The war did not stop. It is still happening, every single day. The sky fills with smoke, the ground shakes, and we are reminded again and again that nothing here is stable. Each explosion feels closer than the last, and every moment carries the possibility of losing even more.
This video shows our street. Every house you see destroyed once held families, stories, laughter, and dreams. This is where we grew up, where we knew every corner and every neighbor. Now it’s all rubble. Walking through it feels unreal, like moving through a memory that’s been violently erased.
If you’re able to help, you can donate through this link 👇👇
Campaign Update
Asking for help is not easy. It’s humbling and painful. But the truth is, we cannot do this alone. We are trying to survive with dignity in conditions no one should ever have to endure.
If you are able, please consider donating through the link at the end of this post. We are close to reaching our second goal, and every contribution truly makes a difference.
If donating isn’t possible, sharing this post is just as important. It helps our voices reach beyond Gaza, beyond the silence.
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