hi! do you have any diana x kirk recs (preferably if kirk is steve's reincarnation)?? saw your post and omg i need it
I cannot TELL you how badly I need more Diana x Kirk fics in my life
Unfortunately, the only real good one I’ve found is More Time, and while it’s real good, real entertaining, and updates regularly, Kirk is NOT Steve’s reincarnation. I asked the author herself, and they said that the fact that Steve and Jim look, sound, and act the same is complete coincidence due to Kirk being a distant relation to Steve
The rest of the Diana x Kirk fics i found are short one shots or drabbles like Identical words against different frames, which is a cute read, but ultimately very short and doesn’t satisfy my ravenous needs for Diana x Kirk
There’s another fic called On The Wings of The Wind which has promise and the potential to be really good (in the tags the authors make it obvious that Kirk IS Steve’s reincarnation) the fic hasn’t updated this week and where they left off Diana and Kirk haven’t met yet. This one I’m patiently waiting for because I’m hopeful the payoff is worth it. The chapters are kind of short and there only 5K words total at the moment, read at your own risk
I know, you think my generation doesn’t give two fucks about anyone else but themselves. but honestly why should we. everyone we loved left us for someone better, someone with longer legs or bigger bank balances. everyone we respected disappointed us by weaving us in a myriad of lies. everyone we idolised betrayed us. in a generation where everyone is letting everyone down, everyone is too stressed or too anxious, do you except us to care about other people. do you expect us to protect people from drowning when we dont even know how to swim. do you expect us to save lives when we want to end our own. do you expect us to love when our own hearts have been shattered into pieces. do you actually except us to give fucks about anyone but ourselves.
I want to tell everyone who is currently in a helpless situation- one of those situations where you want to do something for someone but you just don’t know what to do; its okay. You’re not the only one who feels like that and you’re definately not alone. Just be strong and remember it’ll be okay soon. It might be difficult tomorrow and a week from now but it will all be okay soon, just have a little faith.
for those freaking out over their parents divorce, for those crying over the loss of a loved one, for those who don’t know how to help a friend, for those who are broke, for whose who are hurt, for those who are lost.
Maybe some time you could talk about Susan and what it would be like if she didn't desert Narnia
How about we talk about what might have happened if Narnia hadn’t deserted Susan?
What if, instead of sending a stag to lead them astray, the Pevensies had been given time to end their first rule– to have finished their reports, their negotiations and treaties, that letter in the bureau Lucy was half-done penning to Mrs. Beaver to thank her for the fruitcake and to ask about her grandchildren.
They had lived there more than a decade then, grown from children to kings and queens, to brave young adults with responsibility heavy on their shoulders. They had lived through storms and wars, peace and joy, lost friends to battle and old age and distance. They had made a home. What if they had been given time to say good-bye?
What if we didn’t tell Susan she had to go grow up in her own world and then shame and punish her for doing just that? She was told to walk away and she went. She did not try to stay a child all her life, wishing for something she had been told she couldn’t have again.
There is nothing wrong with Lucy loving Narnia all her life, refusing an adulthood she didn’t want for a braver, brighter one she built herself. But there is also nothing wrong with Susan trying to find something new to fall in love with, something that might love her back.
You can build things in lipsticks and nylons, if you don’t mind getting a few runs in them. There is nothing wrong with wanting to be pretty, especially when pretty is the only power left to you.
Let’s talk about being the last one left. No, really, think about it. You get a call in the middle of the night, in the little flat you can just barely afford, and you are told there has been an accident.
Think about it, that moment– you scramble over everyone you know, everyone you love, and try to figure out where they all are that night. There are things rushing in your gut, your fingertips, your lungs, your ears– there are words in your ears as the tinny, sympathetic voice starts to tell you: it is everyone.
They were on a train. Something went wrong. They probably died instantly. A rushing sound. A bright light. (You try to imagine it, for years. You try not to think about it. You imagine it, for years–a rushing sound, a bright light.)
Your little sister, who you always felt the most responsible for, who you never understood, really– Your big brother, who disapproved of your choices but loved you with a steadiness you could never regret leaning into– Your little brother, a smug and arrogant ass except for the days when he drowned in self doubt– Ed was going to go far and you knew it, were waiting for it, were shoring up your defenses and your eye rolls for the days when he’d think he ruled the world–
Your mother is gone. Your father, with his stuffy cigar smell and big hands and the way he got distracted telling stories– he is gone. Your cousin Eustace, who suddenly lost that stick in his ass one summer. That friend of his, Jill, who you’d never actually quite met. Gone. A rushing sound. A bright light.
Go on. Walk through this with me. You can’t sleep all night long, because you still can’t understand it, still can’t quite breathe in a world where you are the last Pevensie. You finally fade sometime between midnight and dawn and when you wake up you don’t remember for half a second. You think ugh and you think sunshine why and then you remember that you are an orphan, an only child. You remember there probably isn’t anyone else to handle the funeral arrangements.
Get up. Make tea. Forget to eat breakfast and feel nauseous and empty all day. Call the people who need to be called. Your work, to ask for the time off. The mortuary, to ask about closed caskets. Distant relations. Friends. Edmund’s girlfriend and Peter’s boss. You listen to Lucy’s friends weep hysterics into the phone while you stare out the kitchen window and drink your fourth cup of tea. You call Professor Diggory, out at the old house with the wardrobe that started it all, and it rings and rings. You don’t find out for three days that he died in the train crash too. When you do, you stare at the newspaper article. You think of course.
You are twenty one years old. You have ruled a kingdom, fought and won and prevented wars, survived exile and school and your first day as a working woman. Nothing has ever felt worse than this. You have a necklace in your dresser you meant to give your mother, because she loves rubies and this glass is painted a nice ruby red and it is all you can afford on your tiny wages.
Excuse me, a correction: she loved rubies. She is dead. You never wear the necklace. You cry yourself to sleep for weeks. The first night you don’t cry, the first morning you wake up rested, you feel guilty. You wonder if that will live in the pit of your stomach all your life and you don’t know. The years reach out in front of you, miles and eons of loss. You are on the very shore of this grief and you do not know how you will survive feeling like this for the rest of your life. But you will survive it.
Get up. Make tea. Make yourself eat breakfast. Make plans with a school friend to do lunch. Go to work and try to bury yourself in the busyness of it. Remember that you’d promised to lend Peter a hand with some task or other, but you don’t even remember what it was– Collapse. Hide in the bathroom until you’re breathing again. Redo your makeup and leave work the moment your shift is over. Drop your nylons and your sweater and your heels in the apartment hallway. Fall into bed and pull the covers over your head.
Get up. Make tea. Eat. Don’t think about them for weeks. Don’t feel guilty when you remember. Feel proud. Spend an indulgent weekend in your pajamas, reading Lucy’s favorite novel and making Ed’s favorite cookies and remembering the way your mother smelled and how it always made you feel safe. Love them and miss them and mourn them. Keep breathing. Cry, but wash your face after in cool water. Wake in the morning to birdsong and spend three hours making breakfast just the way you like it.
Imagine the next birthday, the next Christmas, the next time you hit one of those days that herald the passage of time, that tell you how much you’ve grown and how much they haven’t.
Lucy, Peter, and Edmund will be at the same height for the rest of your life. Lucy will always be seventeen for the second time. You see, you think you know, when you lose them, what the dagger in you feels like. But it grows with you, that ache. You grow with it, too, learn how to live with that at your side but it grows, that ache, finds new ways to twist–
At the first friend’s wedding you go to, you cry because it’s lovely, those two smiling and promising and holding hands– but you also cry because you wonder what Lucy would have looked like in white, joyous and smiling and promising the rest of her life to a boy who deserved her.
Go on. You tell me if Susan deserted a world or if a whole life deserted her. You tell me who was left behind.
So yes, let’s talk about it– what if Narnia hadn’t deserted Susan? What if lipstick and nylons were things worn and not markers of worth?
What if we had a story that told little girls they could grow up to be anything they wanted– all of Lucy’s glory and light, Susan’s pretty face and parties, the way Jill could move so quiet and quick through the trees?
Because you know, some of those little girls? They were the little mothers, too old for their age, who worried and wondered, who couldn’t believe like Lucy or charge like Jill. Susan was reasonable, was hesitant and beautiful and gentle, was pretty and silly and growing up, and for it she was lost. She was left. And when Susan was left, so were they.
The little girls who worried louder than they loved, who were nervous about climbing trees and who would never run after the mirage of a lion, who looked at the pretty women in the grocery store and wondered if they would grow up pretty too– some of them looked at their little clever doubting hands, after they read Peter and Eustace and Jill scoffing at Susan’s vanities, and they wondered what they were worth.
Imagine a Narnia that believed in all of them. Imagine a Narnia that believed in adult women, lipsticked or not. Imagine Susan teaching Jill how to string a bow, arms straining. Imagine her brushing blush on Lucy’s cheeks, the first time Lu went out walking with a boy she was considering falling in love with. Imagine that when the last door to Narnia was shut, there was not a sister left behind.
Tbh I can’t believe I haven’t seen a supergirl avatar Kara au.
Airbending avatar!kara, her entire nation and culture wiped out but instead of 100 years in an iceberg it was 25 years, so things are both more and less screwed than if it was just a hundred years for Kara tbh .
And fire princess!Lena, who was adopted as a child, in part to help with the Luthor’s image bc bloodthirsty and ambitious doesn’t mean stupid– they know they need to soften their image, in the interest of world Trade and continued loyalty (massacres of children don’t really sit well with ANYONE.)
But Lena is a firebending prodigy just like her older brother (some rumors have her even better than lex, but they’re just whispers, said along to crackling flames because regardless of whether or not she’s better, lex is far more dangerous, far more volatile)
(And maybe there’s also talk about Lena’s eerie green eyes–not the eyes of a proper firebender but of one descended from Earth.
and for years people thought that Clark was the avatar, the baby that was spirited away to a friendly earthbending family of farmers and that maybe he’s just a late bloomer bc he’s an El and the Els are infamous for being uber powerful benders but nope it’s Kara, who would def be used as a weapon by some less than virtuous organizations wanting to harness and experiment on the avatar (and not to mention hiding from the fire benders, who killed off the airbenders.)
Except, Kara left the temple because they were going to take her away from her parents and she panicked and left and if you guessed that she was heading in the direction of the fire nation you’d be right and if she happened to be found by a fire nation family, the danvers, you’d also be right
So they train Kara as a firebender, or try to, all the while keeping her other powers a secret and hiding in plain sight. Some days are more successful than others. Or maybe they pretend she’s a non-bender, they can’t quite give her more instruction with firebending other than how to put fires out, or make it look like firebending, not until she masters the other elements but teaching a master bender an element is noticeable , and just. So Much destruction. And they’re TRYING for subtle. And so everyone sees the shining pride of the danvers clan, their brilliant prodigy but most teachers and students just kinda overlook Kara–which is kind of the point. Everyone knows her as Alex’s sister but if they didn’t say that Kara was a distant relation from the colonies there’d be a lot of people scratching their heads as to why the noble Danvers family took in such an ordinary girl
And maybe Kara spends a lot of time in the city, kinda sorta maaaaaaybe sneaking out (she’s an airbender–she’s good at blending in when she wants to, a simple breeze lost in the wind). And maybe she runs into another girl with really pretty green eyes named Lena, who’s kind and so smart and brilliant and has she mentioned pretty and Lena just Loves how to Kara she’s just her friend and she’s judged solely on her own merits (and maybe she also loves how when Kara tells her she loves Lena’s eyes Lena believes her)
But reality sets in and Lena is a fire nation princess and Kara is the avatar and both have are sent away to learn more, and the next time they see each other?