I Am Struggling With Defeating The 2nd Challenge On Chapter 6 Of Love And Deepspace. I Tried Three Times

I am struggling with defeating the 2nd challenge on Chapter 6 of Love and Deepspace. I tried three times already and I lose so easily. The third wave really kicks me in the ass

Damian has a jagged scar across his stomach and when the bats see it for the first time they try to unlock his Tragic Backstory about how he got it and Damian just scowls and refuses to speak whenever they bring it up so they all assume its a really sore spot to do with some kind of childhood trauma at the league, until Red Hood shows up in Crime Alley, starts working with the bats, catches wind of this, and mercilessly informs them that when Damian was 8 he insisted on helping him carry some new LOA weapons down the stairs and he tripped and ate shit with a serrated javelin in his hands.

Damian reveals Jason's identity out of spite.

Congrats on 200. I fell in love with ur Bruce Wayne one-shot and immediately followed u. This is my first request ever so I hope I did fine

11 + 21 Dialogue Prompt and make up scenario prompt with Bruce Wayne

"You're intoxicating, you know that, right?” + "You're a forbidden fruit. And I’m tempted to take a bite.” + Make Up x Bale!Bruce Wayne

Words: 4.9k words

Warnings: Some angst, break ups, infidelity, some suggestive themes but nothing explicit, no use of Y/N not proofread (I'm dead sick), maybe OOC Bruce? If I missed anything, please let me know.

A/N: Hey everyone!!! I'm back with another one of my requests. Nothing much to say about this one, although I had a kind of hard time matching the dialogue prompts with the scenario prompts. I'm not very sure how I feel about this one. I'm extremely sick, I can't even think straight.

I hope you all enjoy it, though! I love Bruce, and loved writing this. He's such a little gremlin omg, the mc is stronger than me honestly.... <3 I hope this lived to your expectations, and I hope I did your request justice!!!!

The first time you and Bruce had fought, things had ended awkwardly.

There were no sparks, no big make-up kiss, no passionate make-up sex.

You’d gone your separate ways, too scared of what you might say to each other to even be in the same room. You’d hurried to your shared bedroom, closing the door, and crawling under your thousands of blankets. Bruce, on his hand, didn’t want to upset you any further, so he took one of the guest rooms and had to make do without the warmth of your touch.

On the morning after, he’d sheepishly knocked on your door, and allowed him to crawl back into your bed. He was shy and afraid, and so were you, but you loved him and let him cling to your body. None of you said a word, just held each other silently and tried to go about with your days later. It was weird – you walked on eggshells and barely spoke, and you wished to never fight with him ever again.

The second time, you didn’t let him crawl into your bed the following morning. But you’d allowed him to lean into you the following night while you watched a movie in the couch. You’d gone longer without speaking.

The third time, you were far too tired. Neither you spoke for a few days. In fact, you refused to even look at him. The ice was too thin to be broken.

It was getting harder and harder to do this. Staying with Bruce, that is.

So, this time, you weren't patient enough to stick around. You grabbed your car keys and drove to a friend's house to spend the night.

You were familiar with fighting with Bruce. Exasperation and exhaustion while you tried to fight for your relationship weren't foreign.

But just because they weren't foreign, it didn't mean you should be used to them.

You loved Bruce. Really did, more than anything in your life. You were sure he was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your days with. Kind, caring, with a sense of humour that matched yours perfectly. It also helped he was handsome to boot. The perfect catch, and your perfect match, in more levels than one.

UT you just couldn't help wanting to bang your head against a wall whenever you two fought. The motives were always the same. Bruce had gotten home super late, barely acknowledged you, and locked himself in his study. You'd only gotten a glimpse of him when he joined you in bed at around 4 in the morning. This was no way of living, you'd told him. He was ruining his sleep schedule, his health, his mind, his body, and his relationship with you.

But according to him, he just had to do it.

It wasn't until you were roughly one year into your relationship that he revealed his secret.

It all made sense then, clearly. The late nights, the missed dates, the exhaustion, the eyebags. It clicked instantly.

Of course, your first thought was to beg him to stop. What else were you supposed to do? Watch as he killed himself night after night, coming home with all sorts of weird bruises, tired out of his mind, pushing himself further and further until he crashed and burned? NO. You loved him far too much for that.

Still, you stayed. Through thick and thin, you'd promised. The two of you weren't married, and after he revealed to you that he was Batman, you weren't even sure if marriage was even an option (On his side, of course. You'd still have married him in a heartbeat), but you would always love him as if you were.

He, of course, did not relent. Why would he? Being Batman was his duty. It's what he had to do. Gotham needed him, and he wasn't going to simply abandon it. You got it. Kind of. He was a dutiful man, of course. But this godforsaken city had done absolutely nothing for him. Gotham did not deserve him. And Bruce was worthy of more. Much more.

You tried to make it work after his confession. For a while, you'd wait for him until he came home, patched him up once or twice, lull him back to sleep, running your hands through his hair and softly singing lullabies to him. It felt weird. It was domestic in a weird way. You felt like it was your own little secret, you, and your little vigilante boyfriend. For a while, you felt like the strong loving woman your sweet hero would come home to at the end of the day. For a while, you felt like his home, and it reminded of your superhero movies and comic books you enjoyed engaging with from time to time.

But it got boring really quick.

The lack of attention from Bruce became unbearable, the lack of his love even more so. The Mansion, instead of your once fairytale castle, was now suffocating, its pretty and adorned walls feeling too claustrophobic.

The little secret you'd loved at first, was threatening to consume you whole.

So, you did the only rational thing.

You broke him with him.

You loved Bruce, that much was true. But you were not going to silently suffer while he got closer and closer to death each morning, nor could you stay there to watch. It broke your heart, yes. But it also had to be done.

You packed your things and promptly left. You were planning to tell Bruce a few nights before, but thanks to his job and his, well, other job, he hadn't been home, which gave you even the more reason to do it. You hugged Alfred tightly,  got your things and left.

Bruce of course, was shocked. He only found out about two days later, when he finally came downstairs for breakfast at a regular time, and didn't find you curled up on the couch. Upon asking Alfred, he was given the small handwritten note you'd left for him, the one he hadn't even seen.

After that, he'd called you countless times, but you never replied. You knew that if you answered your phone and listened to Bruce's voice once, everything would go down the drain and you'd forgive him. And that just couldn't do.

So you moved on with your life – or tried to.

You got a promotion at your job, a fancy business dedicated to pharmaceuticals, got a sweet place of your own, a pretty loft with a lovely view of the river, and even got a boyfriend.

He wasn't Bruce, that's for sure. He was shorter, smaller, thinner, not as funny and to be honest, kind of annoying sometimes. He had some habits that drove you nuts, and you could swear sometimes his eyes lingered far too long on the women that walked down the street hand in hand with their boyfriends, and spoke about football players way too much. But he was sweet and brought you flowers and never disrespected you, so you chalked it up to being too nitpicky and swallowed it down, allowing Matt to spoil you and take care of you the best he could.

You'd get glimpses of Bruce's life here and there, plastered all over magazine covers. His latest affairs consisted of gorgeous actresses, a rising pop star, and a model you particularly remember disliking because she made you feel insecure. When you saw her picture with Bruce in some scandal column, you bit through your cheek and thought to yourself what a petty man he was.

No matter.

You were doing great. Your life was just beginning. You had new work opportunities, a nice boyfriend, and weren’t going to let anyone, let alone him, stop you.

It was easier said than done.

The first time you had ran into Bruce after your breakup, you nearly screamed. He'd walked into your company's building, claiming something about a partnership and a donation. Your boss thanked him profusely, a deep flush taking over her cheeks, but he couldn't care less, eyes boring into you with an intensity you were familiar with. He asked to speak to you, and you'd tried shooing him away, but your boss felt it was "incredibly rude to deny just a small request of Mr. Wayne", she practically locked you both inside your office.

"This is a nice place," he'd said, looking around at the room you'd decorated with a few personal belongings. "Nice view. Got it with the promotion?"

"Yes. Not that it's any of your business, actually." Had been your reply. You'd crossed your arms over your chest and scowled. How dare he show up just after everything he'd done to you?

"Actually, in case you didn't hear your boss over there, it'll be my business alright. We're becoming partners, and I believe we'll have to work closely together." You had not missed the smirk that accompanied it and fought hard not to let your face show just how strong his hold still was over you. While you tried to distract yourself from his presence, you hadn't realised just how close he'd gotten.

"Pft. It's not me you'll be working with," you'd said, trying to keep calm. His beautiful brown eyes were searching for yours, and you weren't going to give him the satisfaction of backing down.

"Something I consider a great pity," he had sighed, taking one step towards you. "Look, I'm really sorry – "

"We don't have to do this."

"What?"

"This. Apologies. We don't have to. You did what you had to do, or what you thought you had to do, and so did I. I've moved on, Bruce. Let's just keep it in the past." You'd said, looking away. Bruce had eyed the way you bit your bottom lip, desperately wishing it was him tugging on it.

"It doesn't change how sorry I am, how – "

"How you moved on super quick, not afraid to date literally every model in the book," you 'd chuckled sarcastically. Sorry my ass.

"You know why I did that. I have an image to maintain," Bruce had taken another step towards you, and he placed his hands on your waist, testing the waters. When you did not walk away from his grip, he pressed closer to you. "There's not a single day that goes by that I don't miss you. Desperately."

You could have let him fool you, with his pretty words and even prettier face. But you'd just realised how fantastic your life could become without him (even if, deep down, your heart still yearned for the man before you). So, you gathered all your courage and pushed him away, quickly moving towards the door and opening it.

"Have a good day, Mr. Wayne."

He did not question you and left your office promptly, allowing you to sink back in your chair and release a sigh so deep, you were sure everyone in the building had heard it.

Your other encounters with Bruce, had been more intense.

Now partners, you had to interact with him almost weekly, and every time, he managed to find some excuse to get his hands on you.

You had something in your hair, or some dust in your jacket, or he simply had to walk past and needed to gently cup your waist or place his hands on the small of your back to guide you. At first you thought it was annoying, but quickly began to eagerly await each meeting where you knew Bruce would be present. You'd started to tease him, bending over sometimes to catch whatever had slipped from your grasp – pencils, pens, books, binders – pretended to trip just to have a reason to hold tight onto his arms, gave him flirty smiles whenever he was presenting anything, causing him to stutter and fumble over his words.

He'd caught onto this little game of yours, and it became your little secret.

You didn't like what this entailed – your last secret had ended badly for the two of you. Besides, you had a boyfriend. A very nice one, who was oblivious to your little "adventures" with Bruce at work. Sure, they didn't go past him getting his hands on you or you on him. You never kissed him again; it wasn't like that. But it wasn't fair for Matt if you kept going with whatever this was between your ex.

So, one day, when Bruce arrived for a meeting, you'd pushed him aside after and spoke briefly.

"Look, I don’t' know what this is between us," you started, "But it has to end. I – I have a boyfriend. And it's wrong to do this to him."

You didn't miss the way Bruce's eyes narrowed when you uttered the word "boyfriend". Nevertheless, you continued.

"And it's not fair for either of us as well. We're not together anymore, Bruce. We're not in a relationship. I'm sorry if I led you to believe there was anything else going on here. It was wrong of me – all of this was. But I'm putting an end to this. From now on, we're to only speak to each other in a professional setting. I don't want anything to do with you outside of work. Ever again. I have a life of my own, you know. And you're not in it. Goodbye, Bruce."

You walked away, leaving him to soak your words.

That same day, you got home earlier and snuggled up with Matt on the couch. He'd brought you flowers and cooked dinner, telling you all about how he "could sense you weren't doing well". You smiled. Yeah. You'd be perfectly happy with him. He was a great catch, and you were lucky to snag a guy like him. After dinner, you helped him load the dishwasher and pulled him through the couch, where you picked a movie that was abandoned halfway, the sound of the TV being muffled by your little sighs and whimpers of pleasure under your boyfriend.

Images of Bruce's face tried to sneak into your thoughts as Matt kissed a trail down your neck (was it just you, or was it almost robotic the way he did it?), and you fought against them. He'd abandoned you. He'd chosen Batman, his mask, his other identity, over you. And you deserved better. Matt was better. You shook your head and pulled him up, crashing his lips into yours (Was he simply not into it? Not in the mood?) until you were out of breath and light-headed, and Bruce Wayne could no longer disturb your mind.

You still had no idea how anyone had convinced you to do this.

Not that you minded the get up, the pretty dress, the cute hairstyle, the heels. You looked and felt like a Princess. But such getups should be saved for date nights or other romantic activities. Never a charity ball in which you, along with other equally excited coworkers of yours represent the company.

You really did not want to be here. You could've dolled up to go somewhere with Matt and that would have been fine, but it was a Friday night and the last thing you wanted was to socialise with a bunch of Gotham snobs whose only reasoning for donating money was to appear charitable than to be charitable.

You sighed and took a sip from your drink, some sweet cocktail you'd fetched at the bar, earning a quizzical look from Matt.

"Having fun over there?" He asked. He looked rather dashing with his blonde hair all slicked back, and his stormy eyes looking at you with amusement.

"Another one, and I'll gut you open," you muttered. You were tired of the fake smiles, of the polite small talk, of having to pretend you actually sucked up to everyone in the grand ballroom.

"I don't know, you look like you might fight right in," Matt joked, which had you nearly choke on your drink.

"I need to down a few more of these to try and make myself believe I could ever fit in."

Matt chuckled and the two of you spoke for a while. He looked very handsome in his dark blue tux, and he was all yours for a few minutes, until he spotted someone "he simply had to meet". Some big shot economist he'd read about in a paper. Personally, you'd never really realised Matt was big on economy, but you let it slide. At least one of you was having fun.

Hours went by. Mark was nowhere to be seen. You were leaning against a wall, in one of the far ends of the room, completely alone and bored out of your mind, when you heard his voice.

"You look lovely," Bruce said, glancing over your figure, eyes lingering on your hips and how your dress snugly hugged them.

You stood up straight and did your best to look away and appear uninterested.

Bruce sighed

"Are you really not going to talk to me?" He asked, to which you sighed. No one could see you –you were far from the bustling crowd, from the noise. And that somehow had your knees weak.

"There's nothing to talk about, Bruce," you said.

"Yes, there is. I want to apologise – "

"I told you; we really don't have to do this – "

"Yes, we do." Bruce reached out to you, his hand carefully resting on your waist. You finally looked at him, and your gaze softened. Of course, he looked as handsome as always, hair carefully styled, doing a beautiful black suit. Then, your eyes landed on his tie. It was a lovely shade of burgundy – perfectly matching your dress. Did he know that was the colour you'd be wearing? Had he done it on purpose?

"Please. Just let me explain." He murmured, and you couldn't help but relent. You always did when he gave you that sweet look and spoke to you in that voice. You nodded.

"I'm sorry. For everything," he started, stepping back a bit to give you some space. The last thing he wanted was to make you feel trapped. "You should know that I never wanted to hurt you. It's just... I know how you feel about Gotham. I know you think it's done for, and that I shouldn't waste my time on it. But... I believe in Gotham. I truly do. I've seen what its people can do, what they're capable of. And they're good. They're trying. I have hope for this city. And I can't just stand back and watch it fall. Not when I could've done something to prevent it."

"And I couldn't just stand there and watched as you nearly killed yourself every night for a city that doesn't deserve you," you replied, looking up to meet his gaze.

"I know. I'm sorry I put you through so much pain."

He leaned in closer, and you unconsciously followed, chest pressing against his. Bruce tucked a rebel strand of hair behind your ear, and his fingers travelled down your neck and shoulders. You sighed, having missed his touch far too much. Bruce always touched you gently. Sure, he’d pulled and tugged and been rough with you sometimes, when you both needed, or you asked him nicely. But you always liked it when he was gentle with you, taking his time and treating you like a precious treasure.

“It breaks my heart to know you were suffering so much because of me. I’m sorry. I know I’m selfish to want it all. The city, you, Batman.” He spoke, hands running up and down your neck and collarbone.

“I only ever wanted you. But I guess that was too much to ask.” You replied.

“It wasn’t. I was yours. I am.”

“You’re not. I have to share you with the city, don’t I?”

“My heart was always with you.”

“But you weren’t. And that was enough for me to leave.”

You’d completely forgotten where you were. And it’s not like anyone else even minded you – old men were already going on drunk rambles, and women were flirting with men who weren’t their husbands. No one seemed to be paying attention to the two idiots nearly hidden away in the darkness. Probably some clingy couple, most of them thought.

Bruce sighed and dropped his head to your neck. You should have wanted to push him away, tell him that he couldn’t. Tell him that you had a boyfriend, and you couldn’t have your heart broken by him again. But instead, the only thing that left your lips was a soft whisper of his name, something short of a plea.

He brushed his lips across the column of your neck, and you tilted it back, granting him a better access. As he started pressing kisses against your soft skin, you heard him whisper.

“You’re intoxicating, you know that, right?”

You sucked in a breath and your hand came up to tangle itself in his neatly styled hair.

Looking over his shoulder, your eyes scanned the party. Men and women dressed in formal attires, dancing, chatting away, drinking. Suddenly, your eyes fell on Matt, who was excitedly talking with an older man. Something inside you (was it your conscience?) churned and you shook your head.

“Bruce, we shouldn’t – “ you were interrupted when he latched his lips onto that one sweet spot just below your ear, the one that made you go weak in the knees, and gasped loudly. “M-Matt – my boyfriend – we can’t – “

“Oh? And why is that?” Bruce asked, soothing over the spot with his tongue, hands expertly tugging on your hips.

“I’m – I’m taken, Bruce, I can’t do this… It’s wrong…”

You weren’t even sure if you’d believe your own voice.

“Ah. I see. You’re taken. It’s wrong.” Bruce got up and part of you wanted to pull him closer once again, mind screaming “Why did you stop?” over and over again. But your whole face heat up when he placed his thumb under your chin, tilting your head up and looking straight into your eyes.

“You’re a forbidden fruit,”he muttered, “And I’m tempted to take a bite.”

You looked up at him in surprise. You were sure he could hear just how loud and fast your heart was beating, betraying you.

“May I’?” Bruce asked politely.

Should he?

He’d hurt you. Very much.

But he’d also apologized.

Yeah, but he’d left you alone countless times.

He was saving Gotham. What a good person Bruce Wayne was.

He chose his city over you. Repeatedly.

He’s choosing you right now.

How long is that going to last?

Forever. Because you’re sure that no matter what, you’d love him forever.

“Yes,” you whispered back, and it was only a matter of seconds before his lips crashed onto yours. Bruce pressed you close against him, allowing himself the pleasure of letting his mouth explore yours. Your tongues fought for dominance, and you let out a soft moan that he deliciously drank up. His hands tugged at your waist, and you wanted him closer, closer, closer.

You cupped his jaw with your hands and kissed him fervently, doing your best to keep up. One of his hands tilted your head even higher and Bruce was able to kiss you deeper. You held onto his jaw, his hair, his head, his suit. You needed him closer, needed to breathe him until his whole existence consumed you, until you knew nothing but the feel of his lips on yours and his love in your heart.

Bruce pulled away for air, and he rested his forehead against yours, catching his breath.

“I missed you,” he mumbled.

“I missed you too.”

“I promise things will be different,” he nodded, hands still caressing your cheek. “Things have… they’ve been good. Gotham is getting better. It doesn’t need me as much. And as much as I want to do my best to keep it safe, I’ve come to realise that I should let it heal on its own sometimes.”

“You really mean that?” you asked, looking up at him. Bruce kissed your forehead and nodded once more.

“I do. Please, forgive me. I promise things will change. I will change. I was miserable after you left.”

You let out a soft snort.

“So miserable you had to date a bunch of actresses and models.”

“I had an image to upkeep. I didn’t like any of them. They weren’t you. Couldn’t come close to you, really. I didn’t even kiss them.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Thought I’d be betraying you if I did.”

You nodded and allowed yourself to melt in his embrace. It felt nice. It felt like home.

“So? Am I forgiven?”

You thought about it.

Bruce seemed to have changed. Sure, he could be lying. All of these could be empty promises, simply a scheme to get back in your pants. But you somehow didn’t believe that. That wasn’t the Bruce you knew. The Bruce you knew was kind and caring and true. He was always true when it came to you.

That’s why it was so easy to believe him.

“I… There’s Matt…” you mumbled, looking over his shoulder again, spotting your boyfriend who had suspiciously gotten closer to an older woman with a sparkly silver dress and her husband.

“Do you love him?”

“What?”

“Do you love him? Because if you do and you don’t want to be with me, I’ll walk away. Look me in my eyes and tell me you love Mark – “

“Matt.”

“Whatever. Tell me you want him, and I’ll leave you alone. Your happiness is my priority.”

You liked Matt. He was sweet. Very caring towards you, a great friend.

But he would never be Bruce.

You shook your head, and turned to face Bruce again, dropping a soft kiss on his lips.

“There is only one man in the world that I love.”

“Is there?”

“Mhm. His name is Bruce Wayne. And he’s forgiven.”

Bruce sighed a sigh of relief, and took your face in his hands, bringing you for a sweet kiss, which you returned.

You’d missed him so much.

“Hey, are we still on for dinner Thursday night?” Bruce asked you, walking into the living room of his mansion, carefully buttoning his white shirt.

“Can we switch it to Friday?” You replied, looking up from the show you’d just paused.

“Sure, I haven’t made the reservations yet anyway. Any particular reason?”

“Matt is coming to Gotham, and he’s asked me out for coffee. I’ll finally get to meet John!”

It had been a few months since that fatidic night at the charity gala.

Later that week, you’d sat down with Matt and ended things. You explained to him how you were still in love with your ex, and that you couldn’t possibly hurt him any further, that he deserved better.

On his end, Matt just sighed and hugged you, confiding in you that he was actually questioning his sexuality. He’d really liked dating you, but had felt like his feelings simply weren’t enough, and that he was actually into guys. Suddenly, it all made sense, and you kicked yourself mentally for not realising sooner.

Nevertheless, you smiled and congratulated him. You were proud of him for admitting such an important thing to himself, and you two agreed to remain friends.

Lately, he’d been telling you all about his new boyfriend, John, whom he wanted you to meet as soon as possible.

“I really think he’s the one!” he’d told you over the phone, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“If that’s the case, mind if I switch patrol to Thursday then?” Bruce sat next to you, handing you his tie, which you promptly began to tie around his neck.

“Sure. You didn’t really go last week, did you? Better check on your city this one then. Can’t leave it unsupervised for long.” You smiled, hands swiftly tugging and pulling and tying a near perfect knot.

“Can’t leave you unsupervised for long,” he mumbled, and you pulled him by the tie to kiss him. He groaned and you took it as an opportunity to run your hands over his clothed chest. Just as he was about to reach around your waist and pull you closer, you moved away from him, earning a very sad look from your puppy – I mean, from your boyfriend.

“You’re going to be late to the meeting.”

“They can start without me. I’ll be quick.”

“We both know that’s a lie.”

You offered him a smile and planted a quick kiss on his cheek, before turning to the TV.

“Good luck with those investors. I’ll see you later?”

“Absolutely.” Bruce replied, kissing your forehead, and standing up.

You smiled.

Things had been normal, good.

Bruce was right. Gotham was getting better. It didn’t need him as much. Daily patrols turned into weekly ones, which turned into monthly ones. Crime rates were going down, and people were no longer afraid to walk the streets at night, all thanks to Batman.

Bruce was home nearly every night, helping you around in the kitchen, taking you on fun dinner dates, or just spending a nice quiet evening curled up in the couch with you in his arms.

It was nice, it was domestic. It was perfect.

And most importantly, you didn’t fight anymore. You didn’t cry over his absence, didn’t lament yourself over how lonely you felt without him, over how much he was neglecting you.

Because he didn’t do it – he didn’t abandon you for Batman or patrols or whatever.

Not anymore.

And he promised to never again.

A/N: And that's it!!! Please do tell me how you feel about the ending. Was it too rushed? I didn't want it to be too long, because usually, when my fics become really long, they start feeling like a burden instead of something I like doing. I don't know if any other writers in here can relate, hahaha!

Poor Matt!!! Y'all I had no idea what I was going to do with him, because when I started writing it, he was such a good boyfriend. He was straight and deadass the best boyfriend in the world and it would've made zero sense for the mc to leave him when he was such a green flag. So I had to change things up a bit. I tried not to be stereotypical or offensive, and used my own experience with my friends who were also struggling with the same thing, so I hope I did not offend anyone. That wasn't what I intended at all.

Okay, that's all!

I'm sick off my mind, I can barely stand, I have a super high fever, and I think I'm gonna collapse on the floor. Totally worth it though. I hope you guys enjoyed this.

Have a great day!!!! <3

Bitch I was so close to finishing but the stupid timer went out. These challenges can be so hard and frustrating

@saturnsatnin HAS STOLEN MY WORK

So I wrote this fic for a collab back in early November and this person has decided to steal not only the entire thing, but my requests and drabbles too. I haven’t had a proper look but I am SHAKING with anger. The only thing they changed is the characters involved. I’m not sure if they’ve stolen anyone else’s work, but you know people like this are too lazy and in creative to write their own stuff so please make sure to see if anything of yours has been stolen.

I am FUMING I have no idea what to do in this situation.

While children in Gaza die of famine in the north and the entire Gaza Strip suffers from a humanitarian disaster due to a lack of food, the occupying army deliberately destroys food supplies so that Palestinians cannot benefit from them after the Israeli partial withdrawal from those areas. The video also shows a fire in a food warehouse where the occupying army sets fire to homes and shops, as has been shown in dozens of previous videos.

A video published by Nadav Golan @nadavgolan8, a soldier in the Israeli occupation army, on his Instagram account.

‎بينما يموت أطفال غزة من المجاعة في الشمال ويعاني كل قطاع غزة من كارثة إنسانية بسبب نقص الغذاء يقوم جيش الاحتلال بإتلاف المواد الغذائية عمداً حتى لا يستفاد منها الفلسطينيين بعد الانسحاب الإسرائيلي من تلك المناطق جزئياً، يُظهر الفيديو أيضاً حريق في المستودع الغذائي حيث يقوم جيش الاحتلال بإشعال النار في المنازل والمتاجر كما ظهرت في عشرات الفيديوهات سابقاً.

‎ڤيديو نشره ناداڤ جولان الجندي في جيش الاحتلال الاسرائيلي على حسابه على انستجرام.