#their bombing the last safe zone

[mulletmitsuya]

ok so i'm back. during the next strike, whenever it may be, instead of just not being on socials, i will only post only about palestine and no fandom content. and because the strike is over, doesn't mean we should stop boycotting/sharing. please let's all do what we can. free palestine!

[idontmindifuforgetme]

Good morning. This might be my last message from the city of Rafah. The occupation [Israel] is carrying out crazy fire. Violent belts. As you’re hearing, there are helicopters. Planes and gunfire from the vehicles. There’s a complete invasion of the city.

We don’t know what is going on in Rafah. The place that the occupation [Israel] claimed to be safe. This is happening all of a sudden; the people didn’t go out. They didn’t do anything. More than thirty targets were hit in just minutes. People were asleep. We woke up to the bombing, to the shooting from the helicopters. It was horrifying. Unacceptable. This might be my last message. Please relay it to the world.

— Hazem, journalist residing in Rafah; 02.11.2024

Rafah was Palestinians’ very last safe zone. There is quite literally nowhere else left to go. And now it’s being bombed with airstrike after airstrike.

[appsa]

URGENT: SLOWING FUNDRAISER!

Recently in an update, Siraj ( @siraj2024 ) has talked of the dearth of space in Gaza. He has described how the occupation has caged Gazans into a narrow strip of land; there is no humanitarian zone that has not been bombed or invaded. Deir al balah was considered one of the last safe zones in gaza- and now that illusion has been destroyed too.

Just a few days ago, Siraj had told us that the violence of the IOF had been only a street away from where he and his family were encamped, and that his extended family were displaced in the aftermath.

It is a claustrophobic, uncertain existence many of us will likely never have to experience.

I will try to keep this as brief as possible. Since Siraj's parents and siblings got displaced and have now become fully dependent on Siraj for funds, his family has been seeing some dire circumstances.

First of all, I need you to understand the kind of pressure Siraj is under right now:

His own family which consists of 5 members

His father’s family also of 5 members

His younger brother’s family of 3

His older sister’s family of 6- she is a doting mother to four children

His younger sister and her own family of 4.

I need you to understand that there are 23 people in total for whom Siraj is the sole provider for at the moment.

Currently all 23 members of Siraj's family forced to share two tents. While the funds did go into procuring a second tent, there is STILL not nearly enough space. The women are suffering from a lack of privacy, and it is dangerous for the children as epidemics are spreading in the camp- Amir, Siraj’s son is already suffering from a severe skin infection. Living in such close quarters with no option of quarantine only puts everyone else (including all Amir's cousins) at risk of infection, at a time where they quite literally cannot afford it with the way medical infrastructure in Gaza is in shambles atm.

With your help, Siraj has successfully raised 50K, but the fundraiser is slowing once again.

Currently Siraj is at 50.8k / 82k

To help his family, He needs to raise 55K by monday i.e the next 2 DAYS.

Vetted and appears #219 on @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi's list of vetted fundraisers

If you need further incentive to donate:

Art raffle - 24th aug is the last day of the raffle so PLEASE participate!!!

Enamel pin raffle

People offering digital commissions here and here

In case you wish to donate to his gfm with paypal, or are having any trouble donating in general, PLEASE DM @malcriada who is a trusted friend of siraj and will make sure to donate to the fundraiser on your behalf and send you proof of donation.

Please share and donate anything you can spare!

Siraj has a heavy burden on his shoulders at the moment, the least we can do is try to ease it as much as we can.

[heritageposts]

I'm writing again to spotlight the GFM campaign of @nourfamily1989, a mother of five in Gaza.

If you've been following Nour's story, you probably already know that last month was very difficult for her and her family. It began with Nour being injured in a bombing, and ended with the family being displaced yet again, this time to an area even more crowded than the last so-called "safe zone."

Now her oldest son, Muhammad (13), has started bleeding from his ear, and Nour is worried he might lose his hearing if he can't get medical treatment soon.

In her post about Muhammad, she writes:

We faced endless suffering for 11 months. With the continued bombing day and night. We kept wondering when this nightmare will end????? Do you still hear our cries?? To those who have compassion. Don't abandon us.

Let's do whatever we can to make sure that Nour does not feel like she's being abandoned. If you can, please donate; if not, then help by sharing.

Donation link (GFM)

For info about how Nour's fundraiser has been vetted and organized, see this post by @/killy.

The goal for Nour's campaign is now to reach the next milestone of $25,000. For every 5k we raise, we're one step closer to ensuring her entire family will be able to evacuate if the Rafah crossing should reopen in the near future.

Currently: $20,991 / $25,000

Total GFM goal: $90,000

[falesten-iw]

On this day last year, my family faced a choice no one should ever have to make: stay in their home in Gaza and risk death or flee south, clinging to the slim hope of finding safety. Spoiler alert: there was no “right” answer. In Gaza, there never is. Families like mine would run from areas labeled dangerous, only to be bombed in so-called ‘humanitarian’ zones. Because in Gaza, no place is truly safe.

Each time they evacuated, they had the same gut-wrenching, desperate conversations on repeat: “Should we stay or go? Where would we even go? Do we send the women and children first, or do we all stick together?” Imagine trying to make life-and-death decisions with bombs falling around you.

One evening, a family friend offered them shelter, hoping the madness would calm down in a few days. My brothers agreed to move everyone there the next morning. But the bombs beat them to it. Just hours after that phone call, Israeli airstrikes hit our friend’s house. Thirty-five people, including children, gone. They never got a chance to move, and instead, they grieved for the lives lost.

They ran to Khan Younis, only for tragedy to follow. In November 2023, Israeli bombs hit my cousin’s house. I lost three cousins, their wives, and their children. It was chaos. Pieces of people scattered everywhere. A small child’s body lay unrecognizable until my cousin realized it was her son, Odi. His head was almost gone, but she knew him. She knew him by the shape of his teeth, his little toes. That’s the kind of loss no mother should ever face.

Since then, my family has moved over 50 times, haunted by the same questions: Where can they go next? How can they afford to survive another evacuation? Will they even manage to set up another flimsy tent?

And speaking of tents, imagine trying to live in one with your children. Picture makeshift cesspits serving as toilets, which fill up in a few weeks, forcing them to dig another. Comfort? Safety? Those words mean nothing. How do you sleep at night when your ‘home’ is a tent and your bathroom is a hole in the ground?

Talking about my family and Gaza breaks me, yet it also brings me a strange comfort. I refuse to let their stories fade. Their memories are beacons in the darkness, bittersweet reminders of joy and sorrow.

My family needs urgent help to survive this ongoing nightmare. Please, donate if you can. Share our story with your friends and family. Help us keep fighting, keep surviving.

Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.

Verified and shared by @el-shab-hussein: Link

Listed as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link

Listed on the Butterfly Effect Project, number 957: Link

Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link

If, for some reason, you couldn't donate via GoFundMe, you can donate via PayPal instead.

Note: There’s even a raffle for a handmade Palestinian thob if you want to participate : Link

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[fairuzfan]

Proof of Purchase and Urgent Update!

Thanks to all your donations, Hussam was able to buy 350 blankets for the people in the camp!! Now families in Rafah will be able to stay a little warmer throughout the harsh winter.

But I have some bad news! Khan Younis is being carpet bombed! Please keep Hussam and everyone in Rafah, and in Khan Younis, in your prayers. Rafah is overpopulated and the last relatively safe zone in Gaza, and the Israeli Army is seriously threatening them next.

For those of you who have been following this, my tumblr 'helpgazachildren' was deleted for unknown reasons. In the meantime, I put together this notion site to help document all the receipts and videos of updates for people who want a backlog of information. I will be continuously updating this site.

Please consider donating today. Your donations go directly to people in need with NO middle man in between. No donation amount is too little, or if you're unable to donate please spread the link today!!!

[a-shade-of-blue]

Hi everyone. I've been asked by Hamdy (@hamdigaza) to share his story with you. Hamdy is only 19 years old but he has already witnessed the deaths of so many family members, including 3 young children: Omar, Nada and Zeina. None of them had even reached 5 years old when they were killed by Israeli missiles.

Omar was an intelligent boy who dreamt of becoming an engineering. He was killed, along with his parents, in the same raid by the occupation forces. He did not even get to graduate from kindergarten.

Omar's little sister Nada was also martyred. She was only 4 years old. She looked up to her brother Omar and wanted to attend kindergarten with him so much. She was a kind soul and wished to become a doctor when she grow up so that she can "treat the sick and the blind". She never got to grow up. She was only 4 years old when she was killed.

(This is a photo of Nada and Omar. They were both so young when they were brutally murdered)

Baby Zeina was born in the first week of this war. When her mother was pregnant with her, they were displaced to an area in the South where Israel designated as a safe zone, and it was in this 'safe zone' that Zeina was born. She was the youngest child in Hamdy's family, and a bright spot in their lives in this otherwise horrific genocide. Zeina was only 5 months old when the occupation forces killed her, along with her father.

(This is a photo of baby Zeina. There aren't a lot of photos of Zeina because she was only 5 months old when she was killed)

Hamdy lost most of his family members in the same bombing that killed Zeina and her father. Hamdy has lost his mother, his aunt, his siblings, his cousins, his nephews, and his nieces in this year alone. Of all his family members, only he, his father and his sister managed to survive.

This campaign is shared by @/gaza-evacuation-funds, #263 on the vetted fundraiser list created by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi. Please, please help Hamdy. He has already lost so so much and he is only 19 years old. The things he told me... this is not a post I find easy to write and I can't imagine how difficult it must be for him to go through all that.

Only €3,914 raised of €50,000 goal! Last donation was 17 hours ago!!

Tagging for reach because he has only received 1 donation in 24 hours and my heart breaks for him, please dm me if you want off the mailing list! We thank you in advance.

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[gorgeousgreymatter-x]

Sorry but at this point if the main thing you care about is condemning Hamas, you're a bootlicker plain and simple. You think Palestine is going to somehow free itself with uwu sit-ins and peaceful protests?

Palestinians are being ethnically cleansed. Rafah was the last safe zone and Israel bombed it last night.

My sympathy has run out and I block on sight now.

[d-emeter]

The world has gone to hell, but you've found your own paradise (or: apocalypse au with task force 141) — plus-size!fem!reader x poly!141

CW: zombie apocalypse (but no real zombies mentioned lol), allusion to smut but doesn't actually happen yet, soap being a horny bastard, implied age-gap?

HEAVILY based on the bill and frank storyline from the last of us but can be read as a generic zombie apocalypse so no worries if you haven't seen/played tlou! Also different format? Is this something?

Captain John Price who, over the years, has become a bit of a survivalist nut — a prepper, if you will.

Sure, his sergeants make fun of him for it sometimes, but he more than anyone knows the shit that plays behind the scenes, the things governments keep hidden, the threats that loom every damn day — so he'd rather be safe than sorry when the world inevitably goes to shit. He's almost smug about it when it does (he hadn't calculated in the zombie aspect of it all, but still)

Unfortunately for him, however, he and the rest of 141 are deployed when outbreak day comes around. More and more cities are bombed by the hour, the population dwindling by the second, and in the week that follows he and the boys are amongst those assigned to evacuate the smaller towns and villages and escort the citizens to quarantine zones — that is, until the QZ's are full and they're under direct order to execute those that didn't make it in.

Now, Price's moral compass has been skewed for some time now. He's done some stuff during his years serving — man or woman, guilty or innocent, it hadn't mattered to him then. It doesn't now, either.

What does him in is the tear that rolls down Soap's cheek when Price shoots the mother and child his sergeant couldn't bring himself to ("Aren't these the people we're 'posed tae protect, cap?")

He convinces his task force to desert that very night (they'd been hesitant, but in the end, they'd follow their captain to hell and back). They gather as many weapons, ammo and MRE's as they can get away with without being caught, and they're off into the night.

Price brings them to his home — a big, old house inherited from his grandparents somewhere in a small, sleepy village. He had spent the better part of his time on leave preparing the house to be self-sufficient should the need arise: generators on solar and wind power, water filters, a chicken coop and a garden set up in the backyard (that, and enough weapons to supply a small army in the garage)

They wait until this village gets evacuated, too, so they can claim it for themselves before raiders come around. They fence off a section of the town, set up traps and cameras, anything to ensure no unwanted visitors can enter, infected or not.

It's their own form of paradise, in a way. (the house has enough bedrooms to give them all their own — they end up in eachother's more often than not)

One day, you fall into their lives — literally. You've fallen into one of their traps, a literal hidden hole in the ground, and within a few minutes you hear the creak of a gate, multiple sets of feet and the unmistakable sound of a gun being loaded ("I'm not infected!" You yell from your hole before they can lay eyes on you, certain they'd shoot you on sight if you didn't)

The first thing you see is the barrel of the gun leering over the edge, before you see its owner — a man with a beard and the most intense eyes you've ever seen. He keeps his gun pointed at you while he makes you recite the alphabet, forwards then backwards, all with your hands held before you to ensure you weren't twitching. You pass his test, it seems, and a ladder is lowered into the hole.

Once you're back on the surface, you see it's not just the man with the beard — there's four of them in total, each looking more terrifying than the last, all muscle and bulk and having the ability to snap you like a twig should they feel the need. There are still guns pointed at you as you explain your situation and simultaneously beg for your life — you were with a group travelling to the nearest QZ, you're the only one left now ("Please, I didn't mean- Please don't hurt me, I'll be out of your hair before you know it — I won't tell anyone about this place! I haven't eaten in three days-")

John and Simon were hesitant at first, but their sergeants manage to convince them to let you inside, offer you some food before sending you on your way again (Soap had been frothing at the mouth a little the moment he had laid eyes on you — sure, they had kept eachother... satisfied, but "Cap, when's the last time any o' us felt the touch o' a lass? 'N such a pretty one at that..." and Price knows he can't deny them when Gaz leans over to whisper how prettily you had begged for your safety, surely it'd do no harm?)

Your eyes widen a little when the scary man with the beard tells you to come with them — your hunger ends up winning the battle with your brain as it tries to convince you that following four big male strangers into their fenced home is not a good plan.

You expected a dented can of beans and maybe a cup of water, so you're definitely more than a little surprised when they usher you into a bedroom with an ensuite, telling you to go take a shower (Soap wanted to follow you into the bathroom, mumbling something about wanting to double check for any bite marks. Ghost had to hold him back by his shirt)

You nearly cry when you feel the stream of hot water on your skin, and feel like you're in some sort of fever dream when you see the clean clothes laid out on the bed for you — granted, they're men's clothes, but anything is better than the rags you had on before.

You start to wonder if maybe you died and are in some sort of weird state between worlds when you come back downstairs to a table that's fully decked out and beautifully presented plates of food.

All of them turn to you immediately and you have to do your best not to falter under their stares (you don't notice the flustered little cough Price lets out at the sight of such a pretty creature in his shirt — god, maybe Johnny was right, it had been a while since he's had a woman, and such a young, plush one at that)

One of them — the one with the darker skin and the prettiest face you've seen in months — is the first to jump into action, hand on your lower back as he ushers you into a chair.

You're convinced you're dead when you bring the first bite to your lips — God, that's good. (Johnny nearly chokes on his food at the small moan you let out. Simon remains stoic, but damn him if he didn't feel a spark of heat in his gut at the sound)

The men start introducing themselves while you're shoveling food into your mouth. The man with the beard — John, you now know — explains that they're all ex-military. Through bites of food, you do your best to introduce yourself as well. You tell them your story, they tell you theirs (well, Johnny and Gaz do, mainly. The one called Simon still hasn't really said a word to you, and you can tell John is a little paranoid about sharing too much information with a stranger)

As the night progresses, there's a shift in the air. Kyle leans in a little too close while brushing a crumb away from your lip, and John lingers behind you a little too long as he refills your glass (you pretend not to notice the sound of his deep inhale as he leans over you).

John insists you don't have to help with the dishes, so you wander into the living room and are immediately intrigued by the piano standing there. Johnny joins you on the bench, thigh pressed against yours as you play with the keys. Simon — or 'Ghost', as you noticed the others called him sometimes — leans over you from behind, and your breathing nearly stops (Simon knows he's too close, but so what if he wants you to accidentally brush against his abdomen?)

Once it's all said and done, you try not to let your disappointment show as you prepare to leave. Much to your surprise, it's Simon that grunts something to you, speaking the first words he's said that night. ("Stay. F'r the night. 'S not safe out there.")

John keeps a heavy hand on your shoulder as he leads you back to the bedroom you were in earlier. It's his, he tells you, but he can stay with one of the others. ("Are you- Are you sure? I can take a couch, or-" "'M sure, love, good night's sleep 'll do you good. Give me a yell if y'need somethin', yeah?")

With that, he leaves you to it, shutting the door behind him. Fuck, that bed does look inviting, and you can almost hear your vertebrae begging for a soft mattress. As you get ready for bed, a thought enters your mind. It had... been a while.

Is what you're about to do a stupid decision? Maybe, but you figured if these men had wanted to hurt you they would've done it already, and you'd be lying if you said that all their touches and affection weren't having an effect on your panties.

You yell out their names from the room, and the four of them are there within a second, though they all falter at the door as they take in the sight before them — you're sitting in the bed, covers pulled up so the only thing visible are your bare shoulders and arms, and it's immediately clear what your intentions are.

Soap, once again, has to be held back by the scruff to prevent him from pouncing on you immediately. John, instead, is the first one to actually enter the room, sitting down on the bed and carefully bringing his hand to caress your cheek while asking if you're sure about this (he'd rather not admit the way he shuddered a bit when he made contact with the soft skin of your face)

Your answer is immediate, you've made up your mind — on one condition ("I'm not... a whore, or anything. I don't sleep with people for food or shelter or anything, just- if we're doing this... I'm staying. For a while.")

Simon nearly laughs at this — funny how you think they would have let you leave otherwise.

[itsrensfairygardenn]

dilf!art x popstar!reader

mdni

— during the last months of his career and the whole process of the divorce, art only dreamed about a quiet life, peace and letting go of everything that had been enchaining him through his years of pro tennis. but once he finally retired? he felt miserable and bored out of his mind; to be honest, he only felt happy when he was with lily. good thing he had patrick and plenty of opportunities to solve all these problems.

— after couple months of hibernating in his house like a bear, he found himself taking care of all business matters — he and tashi had split up all the property and the family foundation; since this brought him passive income and did not require constant monitoring, he still had plenty of free time and god knows how much money. to deal with this and his craving for someone’s company, he decided to accept one of many invitations from his acquaintances — just a fancy event, patrick said it wouldn’t hurt at all.

— when he met you there, he had no idea who you were. after all, lily was too young for being interested in celebrities, and art wasn’t even on social media. he first saw you by the buffet table — you spoke to him while he was looking for a snack that didn’t look like a calorie bomb, and you just interrupted him, offering the most unhealthy-looking thing of the entire range. you looked so pretty, and you sincerely recommended him to try it, and you was eating it too; how could he possibly refuse you, seeing your fingers stained with buttercream? and that sheer dress you were wearing… it’s safe to say that he was very interested in your company.

— seemed like everyone wanted to have a sweet piece of your attention, but you’d spent more than enough time with him before you left — you were discussing everything and nothing at the same time; when he tried to flirt with you, it didn’t turn out to be as smoothly as he’d expected, but you flirted back, and you didn’t find him awkward at all… you both were in a rush, but he managed to ask you for your number.

— of course patrick was the one who told him who you were — he was like, chronically online, having accounts on every single social media platform to keep up with the times. it’s not like art wanted to know everything about you, but patrick didn’t care — he even told him about some of your ex-partners; god, art got so unsure of himself, that he zoned out for a second, contemplating the possibility of embarrassing himself by pushing his luck with you.

— but i mean, you are too gorgeous to not try to have a tiny bit of your attention, so he texted you after days of hesitation, and it turned out that you were as eager to get to know him better as you’d seemed that night — after you’d first called him ‘cute’, he needed time to cool off.

— things escalated quickly; you were out of town, busy with the festival season, so during the day you were exchanging occasional messages, waiting for the night to come to talk on the phone when you got back to your hotel room. if landline phones still were a thing, you’d probably find yourself twisting the wire around your finger like in those old movies.

— at the moment, he still hadn’t listened to any of your songs, but you have such a beautiful voice, that he was tempted to. but why would he need spotify when there was a better option?

— he flew to your concert in another country after a week of phone calls without hesitation — and once he did that, he knew that you had him wrapped around your finger. he watched you through the entire show, waiting for you to glance at him, even if it was for the briefest of moments; he met you behind the stage as soon as you finished the show, and it didn’t bother him that you were sweaty, that your hair and makeup didn’t look perfect anymore — when you let him know that you were okay with leaving with him, he put his hand on the small of your back, leading you to his car. yes, maybe he wasn’t a big fan of pop music, but pop stars? he definitely had a thing for one.

— you weren’t exactly secret, but you were private for your own comfort — sure, people saw him at your concerts again and again, always sneaking backstage, always giving you the biggest bouquets of flowers. it was enough for everyone to make certain conclusions, and couple of blurry pictures through the windows of luxurious restaurants didn’t hurt — maybe a part of him was satisfied with people knowing that you two were a thing. he always took care of everything for you, making sure that everything was special, that the magic was there, even though everyone wanted to peek — he arranged bodyguards, cars with tinted windows, restaurants reserved just for you.

— you moved in with him in the fall, as soon as the concert season ended, and it’s safe to say that it was even more romantic than luxury hotel rooms and penthouses with sound insulation and king-size beds — you two hadn’t left the house for at least a week, and no, it wasn’t just about sex; your days were full of cuddles on the couch in front of the tv, with your legs intertwined under the duvet (you always kept the air conditioning on, so art would cling onto you a little bit more. your feet were always cold, and he always subconsciously tried to warm them up with his big, warm hands). you gave him all the comfort he needed, always making him feel loved and cared for.

— of course, his diet was still there, and he was still stuck on counting calories; he was afraid of losing his shape, especially now, when he had you, his young thing with countless other people around; all those guys who were better than him — skinnier, younger, maybe even better in bed?

— you were always there to show him how wrong he was; it’s not like you were trying to turn his daily ration into bunch of junky food, you only aimed to make him stop dividing food into good and bad; to show him that it was okay to have a dessert after dinner, or to eat a pizza or french fries when he felt like it — after he’d met you, food became much easier and tastier, just like his sports routine — when you two had days off, he always skipped his morning jog, because he didn’t want you to wake up alone in the bed, and he also didn’t have a heart to let go of you and remove your cold little nose from the crook of his neck (thanks to the air conditioner)

— you wrote songs about him — a lot of them, actually, and you rarely showed them to him before the actual release date, because you knew that he wasn’t a fan of pop music; he didn’t actually understand how those things worked, and you didn’t want to put him in awkward situations.

— “you can do a lot with fifteen minutes? that’s… that’s a lot to process, babe”

— like his ears are bright red every time he’s visiting you in the recording studio, but he always supports you as much as he can — he definitely has many of your songs in his playlist, mostly because he likes to listen to them when you’re away and he’s missing your voice; but he also enjoys thinking about the fact that you write songs about him — man untangles his old ass headphones every time he wants to hear you calling him cute boy (and also saying that he has a big dick, but he doesn’t admit it aloud)

— you’re for sure besties with patrick — he enjoys your songs too much for his own good, so when he attends your concerts along with art, he makes sure that everyone around them knows that he knows all the songs by heart; and he’ll never lose opportunity to tease art about the lyrics, too — his elbow nudge art’s ribs every time you look at him from the stage (“dude, do you have a golden dick or something?”)

— you literally made him look at his sexuality in a different way; of course, maybe it was because you’re so young and full of life and passion, or because he was so damn obsessed with you, but he definitely thought that sex with you was the closest to paradise he’d ever experienced.

— when he comes to pick you up from the recording studio, you always linger there for quite awhile after everyone leaves; sometimes you close the door, sometimes art insists on leaving it unlocked, even though he’s still a bit shy about his desires — anyway, he doesn’t think about it when you ride him on that huge leather couch that always creaks like crazy every time you start moving faster; he grabs your hips, pushing himself inside of you to the point of feeling like he’s about to pass out, and the couch is about to fall apart.

— phone sex, obviously; the best part of his day when you’re on tour. sometimes he’s so horny that your very voice is enough for him to cum in his pajama pants, but when you’re telling him that you think about him when you’re showering after a concert, or simply saying how much you miss him? yes, it indeed takes two to make him finish.

hehe thank you for reading! i got sick right before valentine’s day, so i spent the day bitchless in my bed preparing for the philosophy class, but i felt like dilf!art healed me 🐈

[lonniemachin]

Muhannad reached out to me to help share his fundraiser. He is urgently trying to raise money to help evacuate his 5-person family from Gaza. He has only raised $1,086 AUD out of his $35,000 goal so far! Please share and donate, and if you can't donate, please still share!

From Muhannad's GFM:

Give us the last chance to survive and leave Gaza

Hello everyone, I am Muhannad from Gaza. I hope this message finds you well and safely.

I'm here trying to save my family from the genocide happening in Gaza. You will save the lives of 5 amazing family members, 3 of whom are children. My wonderful mother, Nisreen, suffers from a recurrent tumor in the parotid gland. It requires urgent follow-up every 6 months to control the progression of the tumor because it is very close to the brain and the chances of it spreading are high.

My family faces death every minute... I feel constant terror when I hear every bombing surrounding them, the only thing I can do to save their lives is evacuate them from the death zone. However, the border is closed to citizens trying to leave. There is only one way for families to leave, and it requires an amount of money of $6000 per person. We do not have this amount after destroying our property and depriving everyone of access to banks or withdrawing their money. Hence, I am here to ask for your support to reach the targeted amount of money needed to evacuate my family while they are still alive.

All my family members who are in Gaza now (my father, my sister Farah, my sister Hala, my brother Abdullah, my mother) who were living the best days of their lives a few months ago are now facing unprecedented challenges to survive day by day. day. In addition to the continuous indiscriminate bombing, which led to their displacement repeatedly.

[athena5898]

GAZA (RNN) —Over 39 martyrs ascended across the Gaza Strip since dawn today, and dozens of others were martyred last night.

The most notable massacres…

Last night, Wednesday: 6:30 PM - 23 martyrs in the bombing (https://t.me/PalestineResist/70830) of tents in the "safe zone" of Mawasi Khan Younis. 7:00 PM - 25 martyrs in the bombing (https://t.me/PalestineResist/70884) of the Dalou family home in Gaza City. Today, Thursday: 1:00 PM - 7 martyrs in the bombing of a home near Kamal Adwan Hospital in Beit Lahia, northern Gaza. 4:00 PM - 15 martyrs in the bombing (https://t.me/PalestineResist/70905) of the Felfel family home in Beit Lahia.

Since that time: (https://t.me/PalestineResist/70884?single) 6:00 PM: A home was targeted near Kamal Adwan Hospital in Beit Lahia.

The IOF detonated buildings west of Jabalia.

Artillery shelling targeted Tal Al-Hawa, west of Gaza City, and Jabalia Al-Nazla, resulting in injuries.

6:30 PM - Bombing (https://t.me/PalestineResist/70890) of Kamal Adwan Hospital for the sixth time Two martyrs and 15 wounded arrived at Kamal Adwan Hospital after IOF drones dropped bombs on the hospital. Several of the wounded were medical staff, one of whom is in critical condition.

A 16-year-old child was martyred (Media 1). His name is Mahmoud Abu Al-Aish, and he was wheelchair-bound and headed to the radiology department after arriving at the emergency department. He was the brother of a nurse at the hospital. A drone strike near the hospital resulted in an additional martyr.

7:00 PM - Two martyrs were recovered east of Bureij in central Gaza.

A fire broke out on the third flood of the Indonesian Hospital in Beit Lahia due to IOF bombing (Media 6). Fires broke out in Nusseirat due to shelling, and 3 were seriously wounded.

8:00 PM - 26 prisoners released by the IOF arrived at Khan Younis .

Shooting by IOF vehicles in Jabalia. 8:45 PM - Bombing residential buildings in Beit Lahia by warplanes. A second bombing on Tal Al-Hawa, southwest of Gaza City. A third bombing in the vicinity of Abu Hussein Schools in Jabalia, followed by a fourth on Tal Al-Hawa. 9:00 PM - Shelling in Nusseirat and gunfire in Jabalia.

IOF bombed the Muqayid family home in Beit Lahia, housing many displaced people, resulting in a martyrs, who have not yet been recovered.

Powerful airstrikes south of Tal Al-Hawa, again. 10:00 PM - Shooting and artillery in west Jabalia. Airstrike in Beit Lahia.

Quadcopter drones once again drop bombs near Kamal Adwan Hospital.

[hansama]

Rafah is under attack!!

Rafah is the last 'Safe Area Zone' in Palestine and it's being bombed currently

twitter thread to explain what's going on

Do your daily click for Palestine!

Donate to CareForGaza if you can!

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Do not give them Toys

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

When the human government wished to initiate trade with the Filthrax Conglomerate the Filthrax were understandably cautious. They had always been sensitive when it came to sharing technology with other species. To that end they had an extensive amount of restrictions on what could and couldn’t be traded; excluding much of their more advanced technology from ever reaching the market.

The humans in comparison were technologically inferior to the Filthrax in nearly every aspect so they pictured the humans to heavily lobby for advanced technology to be made available. So it was with some surprise that when negotiations began the humans did not lobby for advanced technology, they instead seemed deeply invested in obtaining the Filthrax toys.

This was not something the negotiators had expected. Research into human culture had showed a deep rooted sense of aggression, towards outsiders and themselves when promoted, which made them believe that the first opening bid would be towards military grade technology.

Sensing the discord, the human diplomats explained that while they would like more advanced technology to be an option, they understood the hesitance and reluctance to trade such dangerous items. They said they would be fine earning the Filthrax’s trust over an extended period of time through trade. It seemed that several human enterprises had their eyes on Filthrax toys and they seemed like a safe enough items to begin trade. The Filthrax agreed and so trade lines were opened between the great powers.

What the aliens saw as a harmless deal was in fact the first foot in the door that could never be closed.

Several million orders for toys were placed almost overnight and the economic boon was felt overnight throughout the Filthrax Conglomerate. None of them understood the fascination humans had with their trinkets but if they were willing to pay then they would be more than happy to sell. It wasn’t until the Nexus Wars began that the Filthrax would come to understand their folly.

The “Nexus” was a series of star systems that held the majority of trade lanes between the core worlds and the far flung resource rich outer zones. Trade through these lanes was deemed to be the most stable for long distance transportation so whoever controlled these regions would make considerable wealth from their stewardship.

Current stewardship fell to the Omicron Empire who had held the systems for the last several hundred years and as such used the profits it generated to fund their empires expansion. The humans wished to control these routes to fund their own imperial ambitions but had never leveled the playing field with the Omicron military to make such a transgression possible.

Then, without warning, the human military launched a series of strikes against Omicron bases and fleets in the Nexus systems triggering the “Nexus War”. The Omicrons raised their fleets and armies and dispatched them to the systems with the full intention of repelling the humans and then carrying on their counter offensive into human space. What they met however was a suddenly technologically advanced human military spouting drastic advances in military equipment not seen.

Human soldiers now carried portable shielding units that blocked everything less than a direct hit from a hover tank, while their ships launched fusion bombs carrying a heavy enough payload to shatter Timbar class battleships in half.

With this new technology, the human military had taken control of half of the Nexus systems within five months of the wars start. Other powers dotting the stars took notice of the sudden prowess of the human military, as well as the calculations predicting that within another five months the Omicron Empire would be driven from the Nexus systems. Some cheered at seeing their old rivals in the Omicron’s brought low, others sent delegations to the human government pledging alliances and treaties, many more came to join the war effort now sensing blood amongst the stars; but to the Filthrax, they quickly came to realize the part they had played in this war.

While Filthrax toys were rather unremarkable, they were unique in the way that their power sources could last an entire lifetime. Through controlled energy distribution, the Filthrax had created a rudimentary power source that, while considered basic in their society, was light years ahead of any neighboring species.

The humans were well aware of this feature.

They knew before negotiations even began that the Filthrax would never part with their advanced weaponry or technology, but they would be willing to part with something they considered nothing more than a toy. Toys that were then torn apart to get to the power source, reverse engineered, and then used to power weapons and machines of human design.

Filthrax toys were now forming the basis for a new galactic power, and they had been fooled into giving them away for nothing more than currency.

The sudden realization sent shockwaves through the upper echelons of the Filthrax. If they admitted this they would be not only be publically humiliated on a galactic scale; but also be portrayed as cobelligerents in the war. Not only that, it would invalidate their own standing treaties with other species which specifically stated they would not trade anything that could be repurposed for war. They could see trade agreements torn asunder for a dozen species with even embargos placed upon their territories. Worse yet was if they did cease trading with the humans the human government could release the information and still black list them to the wider galaxy.

So they sat and watched the war from the sidelines, contemplating that their bobbles may have very well just doomed the universe.

[waleed-krayem]

Hello, my name is Walid Karim. Can you help me and my little daughters? Donate and participate in my campaign.

Since the war on Gaza began, Walid has lost almost everything. On October 18 last year, just two weeks after the war began, 30 family members and friends were lost in one second, by a single missile. None of them survived, and everyone was under the rubble.

Please let us help him raise money for his family to have a better life and resume building their future. Walid will use the funds raised to evacuate his children from Gaza, search for a better opportunity and build a better future for them outside the war zone.

When the occupation army wanted to blow up the residential building in which we lived, some shrapnel were scattered. On the body of my wife Israa, who is still suffering from it, as she no longer walks with balance. As for my daughter, Iman, she was injured in the head, and her hair, which she loved, was shaved off so that the doctor could sew up her head, which was bleeding.

She cried a lot at that time, and her eyes were painful and swollen from the injury. The heart was crying for her, not the eyes. The house was bombed. Not only the house, but the entire residential building was blown up. We are now homeless, and we are all suffering from pain and sadness. But the grief now is not limited to our home only, but rather to the loss of not one person. 30 people were killed in the same second. My life was destroyed in a worse way when the law office I wanted to move to was bombed due to the house being bombed. I was left without a job, without a home, without an office, Without extended family. I fear that I will lose my daughters at any moment, like other families..

I made it a mission to save myself and my family that I don't want to lose. I can't imagine my life without them. Hunger ate their bodies. The rash ravaged the body of my little daughter, who began to suffer from involuntary urination out of fear. She spoke to herself after she had been the most beautiful child. I want my children to survive, I want to save their future from all this and start again in a safe place, and before I lose another one of my family, I want all of your help so that I can start again, I don't want them to be killed by hunger. We are fleeing from missile bombardment, but hunger is chasing us. We no longer eat so our children can eat .

[tag list under the cut]:

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[dreamwavesexploringreality]

CHECKMATE:

Chishiya x Reader

Requested: Chishiya plans to betray Arisu but she has changed.

Y/N would be lying if she said she hadn’t changed. Of course she had changed. They all had.

Borderlands was no walk in the park; it was not a place where innocence and honesty would flourish. Borderlands was about survival in its rawest and most brutal sense.

Chishiya had changed too. At least that’s what Y/N told herself as she watched him silently surveying his surroundings, assessing every person who might pose a potential threat. She missed the warmth of his embrace on cold nights and the whisper of his encouraging words in her ear when her only worry was passing her final exams. Sometimes she could even feel the echo of his touch when he brushed past her without acknowledging her presence. “It’s better if we don’t get associated,” he would say. And she believed him, as she always did, because after all, he was Chishiya.

But things didn’t take long to change.

It was a game night, a particularly intricate and demanding game. She felt conflicted discovering she was in the same group as her boyfriend. She had never played with him before, and she preferred it that way, but she couldn’t shake the sense of security and illusory calm that came from knowing he would be by her side. It turned out to be a game of tag, a Five of Clubs. Chishiya remained silent as the rules were explained, leaning against the wall with an enviable calmness. Y/N kept her distance, just as he had incessantly reminded her; it was better to maintain space in public places.

Once the game began, people started to run, racing through the building that was the stage for death that night, relentlessly searching for the safe zone behind one of the numerous doors leading to the top floor. She watched as Chishiya walked slowly toward the elevator. For some reason, seeing Aguni and his henchmen, who were also playing that night, vanish down the stairs prompted her to follow him. Once inside the elevator, and as the doors closed, Chishiya turned to her.

“Follow me if you want, but don’t talk to me.” He didn’t even look at her.

Y/N nodded, swallowing hard, feeling her heart constrict in her chest.

When the elevator reached the top floor and the doors opened, he stepped out. With a bored stride and his hands in his pockets, he moved toward a secluded corner, a strategic position from which he could observe the entire field without risk of being caught off guard by the hunter. Y/N slowly approached him, keeping a respectful distance. She heard Chishiya huff in annoyance, and for a moment, she was tempted to leave. She had played many games alone and survived; this time didn’t have to be different. However, when the first shot echoed through the air, all those thoughts faded away.

Minutes passed, and people began to fall, with no sign of the safe room that had been mentioned in the rules.

“The bomb will explode,” she said, gripping the railing tightly as she tried to envision where the safe door could be.

Chishiya didn’t respond.

A fire ignited within her. She wasn’t going to stand by and do nothing while people died trying to find the safe zone; they were players too, and this was a game of teamwork. She glanced at the man one last time, trying to find something familiar in his eyes that would assure her the man she knew was still there, but he didn’t look at her. She felt something inside her finally give way and shatter, and with determined steps, more resolute than her own certainty, she rushed toward the stairs, bounding down two steps at a time. In her focus, she didn’t see Chishiya watching her with astonishment etched on his face and worry in his eyes.

“Ten minutes remaining,” announced the robotic voice of her phone.

Y/N felt her body collide with a hard surface.

“I’m sorry,” she heard.

It was a man she remembered seeing in the lobby during the wait for the game to start.

“It’s fine,” she replied. She found the strange conventionality of their conversation amusing in such an extreme situation.

“Have you found the safe zone?” he asked.

“N—no,” Y/N dared not tell him that she hadn’t moved from her spot during the ten minutes the game had been running.

“Come on!” he urged as he ran.

For some reason, her legs activated before her brain, and she began to chase after the boy who would later introduce himself as Arisu.

When it was all over, and the car was filled to take the few survivors back to The Beach, Y/N found herself reunited with Chishiya. He had stayed hidden for almost the entire duration of the game, only appearing at the end, when there were barely five minutes left before the bomb would explode. A fire coursed through her as she watched him walk with absolute calm, urging Arisu to open the door behind which another hunter was hiding.

If they were alive, it was thanks to Arisu—this was the conclusion she reached and clung to when, upon arriving at The Beach, Chishiya knocked on her door.

“What do you want?” she asked as she opened it.

“You were impulsive tonight,” he replied, his tone flat and his demeanor bored.

Y/N closed her eyes and pressed her lips together. She wasn’t going to let herself be swayed by the bitter feelings that had been bubbling within her since the start of the game, perhaps even for days, which she had kept at bay.

“I’m tired. We’ll talk tomorrow.” She shut the door, leaving him bewildered outside.

The next day, Y/N made an effort to avoid Chishiya. She did the same the following day. And the next. This game of hide-and-seek lasted almost a week until, for better or worse, Kuina decided to intervene.

“Chishiya wants to talk to you,” she said, entering Y/N’s room without knocking and wrapping her arm around hers, pulling her eagerly toward the man’s room.

Y/N had no choice but to let herself be led by the woman, well aware that when Kuina got something in her head, it was impossible to dissuade her. For some reason, she had become Chishiya’s loyal companion, doing anything he asked of her. “My boyfriend…” she thought. She didn’t even know if they were still together.

Upon reaching the room, Kuina pushed the door open, shoving Y/N inside and closing it behind her. Now they were alone.

Y/N watched Chishiya from behind, seated at his desk, working on one of his strange devices. No one spoke for a few seconds; the metallic sound of the gadget being adjusted filled the room alongside her quickened breath.

“Your friend is at The Beach,” Chishiya finally broke the silence, still facing away from her.

This took Y/N by surprise.

“My friend?” she asked, genuine hesitation in her voice.

Silence fell again for a moment, during which Y/N decided it was better not to breathe.

“Arisu,” Chishiya said, finally turning around.

An unintelligible sound escaped her lips as she exhaled the air she had been holding. She looked at him. His stoic expression revealed nothing about what might be going through his mind at that moment, leaning back in his chair with his hands in his pockets. Y/N tried to find something in his eyes, in his gaze, that might indicate what he was thinking. It wasn’t necessary when he spoke again.

“I’m going to steal the cards, and Arisu is going to die.”

The girl didn’t know how those two ideas were connected, but a chill ran down her spine when she realized that whatever he was planning, whatever his goal was, Chishiya felt no remorse for that man’s life. Perhaps he felt no remorse for hers either, and that was where it shattered.

Y/N didn’t wait for him to continue speaking before turning on her heel and leaving the room, passing by Kuina, who had been leaning against the wall and startled at her sudden departure.

“Y/N!” Kuina called after her.

She ignored the call, swallowing her tears as she ran to her room. Finally, everything she had been holding deep in her heart, all those thoughts she had tried to banish from her mind over the past few days… all crumbled into tears that spilled from her eyes. She wouldn’t be his puppet; she wouldn’t be another victim of his deception, wouldn’t fall into the jaws of a man she could no longer recognize.

A few doors down, Chishiya was ushering a worried Kuina out of his room. He needed time to think, he told himself as he tried to figure out what he had done wrong. He knew precisely when things had begun to go awry, pinpointing it to the moment they both arrived in Borderlands. From that instant, his sole purpose had been to get them both out of that place and, until that was possible, to prioritize her safety, Y/N’s safety, and if that meant being cold and distant with her, impassive and indifferent in their interactions, so be it. But she clearly seemed incapable of seeing beyond his harsh actions; she didn’t understand that he did it for her own good, and that his only concern was for them to leave together. That’s why he was willing to risk the lives of the pawns on his chessboard, to sacrifice them without a second thought just to save the king and his queen—just to save her. It pained him when she looked at him with that distrust, that skepticism and disbelief… “As if I could ever betray her…” he scoffed as he buried his face in his hands, rubbing his forehead harshly.

It was going to be difficult to regain her trust, especially after that last glance filled with fear and disappointment that she had thrown at him before leaving her room.

Several days passed during which Chishiya’s plans were stalled. He decided not to make any moves until he was sure that his queen was still in the game, and for that, he had to use some of his intricate tricks.

“I thought you wouldn’t come,” he said, on the terrace, staring into the horizon.

“I considered not coming,” she replied honestly, “but Arisu told me it was important.”

“It is,” he responded, a hint of jealousy creeping into his voice. The last thing he wanted, after days of silence, was for her to mention another man.

He turned to look at her. He noticed she was pale with sunken eyes; she must not have been sleeping well. Not that Chishiya didn’t know; he had been keeping an eye on her from the shadows, aware that she had been visibly uncomfortable and agitated after his announcement about stealing the cards. However, what pleasantly surprised him was that she hadn’t said anything to anyone, not even to Kuina, whom he sent every day to try to talk to her.

“I think you didn’t understand me well the other night,” he continued, taking a step closer to her.

“You told me you would steal the cards and kill Arisu,” she replied sharply.

Chishiya chuckled softly.

“I said I would steal the cards and that Arisu would die,” he answered, smiling with smugness.

A perfectly constructed mask.

Y/N rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. Seeing this, Chishiya stepped closer, still smiling, coming within inches of her. Y/N felt her breath catch at the sudden and unexpected movement from the white-haired boy. Chishiya lifted his arms and uncrossed hers, letting them drop to her sides. Seizing the newly established space between them, he took another step forward and grasped her hands.

“I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, Y/N,” Chishiya whispered softly, so quietly that Y/N momentarily thought she had imagined it.

He cleared his throat and raised his gaze, meeting her bright, anxious eyes.

His mask began to falter.

“I want to get out of here, but I want us to do it together. If we don’t get out together, if we don’t go home together... nothing would make sense,” he continued, feeling his voice waver as he forced himself to utter words he never would have thought would be in his vocabulary. “Everything I do... I do it for you. I do it because I love you.” And that was the last straw.

The woman wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. Chishiya felt the dampness start to soak through his shirt, and along with the small sobs escaping from her, he realized she was crying. He embraced her too, gently stroking her back, trying to soothe her in the best way he knew how. It wasn’t something he did often.

Neither of them spoke as the rain began to fall, soaking the terrace and disguising the tears that had begun to slide down Chishiya’s cheek. “To think I could have lost her...” he thought, allowing the rain to wash away any trace of his mask.

He had spent all this time worried that the girl would remain alive, that she wouldn’t be used against him if anyone discovered his feelings for her, that she would be safe. But he seemed to have forgotten that she was not just another piece in his chess game; she was not something he could move at will. No, Y/N was his queen. Y/N was the most important piece on the board, the piece for which it was worth continuing the game. She was everything; no plan or strategy made sense if, at the end of the day, he didn’t have her. But Chishiya was a clever man, smarter than most, and he knew this wouldn’t be the end.

He swallowed his tears with regret and understood that he would never be willing to change his plans. He would achieve his goal; he would get her out of that place even if it meant lying to her, deceiving her, betraying her, hurting her, and being the cause of her tears. Savoring that embrace, he held her tighter against his chest, trying to imprint the feeling of her arms around him in his mind. He would deceive her, betray her, and hurt her; he would hate himself for it, but she would survive. She would escape that place.

And when he finally won the game he was playing, when he toppled the king, he would have a good reason to make the final checkmate, and his queen could be free; she could be happy. Even if it was without him.

© 2024 [@dreamwavesexploringreality]

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