#ferroim

magda takes the retreat of his hand more personally than she should. reads too far into it’s meaning and finds fault where there is none. it reminds her of germany before the start of the war, the bitter ramifications of growing up in a society where you were forever untouchable, infected with some invisible curse that revoked your right to life and dignity.

there’s no mistaking the way her eyes widen, wounded and betrayed. he knows what he’s doing. knows how deeply those words are going to cut, carving lines into the soul he’d once pledged his heart to.. the moment passes however, the subtle tremble of a bare chapped lip steeling itself into an expression of hardened determination.

❝are you? because from where I’m standing I’m not so sure there’s a heart in there. ❞ it wasn’t what she’d meant when she’d called them both ghosts. she wasn’t against the pursuit of equality, she just wished he hadn’t sacrificed so much of who he was to do so. they were shades of their youth, hollowed out and world weary. as if all the joy had been sucked right out of them. but if he wants to politicise this, then so be it. she’d rather they fight than say nothing at all.

Man of Steel: Sentence Starters

he makes it sound so simple. a question uttered, so calm and level. it’s a far cry from the last time she’d seen him. when he’d sacrificed heart and soul to become overwhelmed with an anger so volatile it had torn steel from the ground beneath their feet. the memory makes her shudder, hairs prickling at the back of her neck as she takes a step backwards, welcoming distance, as that very same fear that had caused her to run, settles sullen and heavy in the pit of her stomach.

magda feels sick and she’s not sure it’s entirely fair to blame it on him. as collected as that question was, it carries with it an implication of guilt. a bitter truth that still haunts her dreams and claws at her heart. was she supposed to have stayed? to have walked at his side without hesitation knowing precisely what he had just done? fear had been her motivator, but hadn’t anya deserved better? shouldn’t she at least have stayed to lay her only child to rest instead of leaving it all to him?

but what would that have meant for the twins? for her? for any of them? her mind is a sea of ‘what ifs’, a smorgasbord of infinite possibilities that never fail to torment her. would one little difference have changed everything? could it ever undo the tragedy of what they’d lost? the interlude into her own introspection is long, a distraction from the answer he still seeks even after all this time.

( vampires exist in marvel dude )

( i’m so used to giving and now i get to receive )