#god tier fics

[munninghams]

RAMBLE ON UPDATED LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

[rayraywillis]

OMG yeeeesss I know this feeling toooo well! 'Forgotten' & the sequel 'Flight' by @northern-sparrow are 2 that do that to me Everytime! Her writing is beyond God tier, it is so good! I visit these 2 on a regular basis. They will change everything u ever thought about fics and rock ur world! I cannot praise her enough and am constantly spreading the word about these treasures. Go read now fr! U will thank me! Another one that has dug deep into my very soul and is holding it prisoner is Down To Agincourt by @seperis The most epic wip ever to be imagined. We have been promised that it is already written and just need edits and a polish B4 being released, although it's been a while since it updated. I tell u this fic has me so completely in it's thrall that I constantly haunt their(@seperis) socials and check the fic on ao3 and my email for any signs of new content being released. I've asked a few times if it is still coming and not abandoned, ( and completely understand life/family/health issues/etc get in the way for everyone and that's cool but I swear to God that this fic is just so so so unnngggh that it has me feeling like some strung out dope head in a alley somewhere clawing my skin, sweating, and pacing ready to just about do anything for my next hit of this literary masterpiece. I am willing to alpha, beta, or whatever they need in order to get more of this fic mainlined to my brain pronto, hell if they *God forbid* (and shame on me for even thinking, let alone speaking this evil into the world), if they ever decide to abandon this story I will gladly pay them to allow me to edit the remainder, (with help and input of course and also their final approval on the thing) , just so it can finally be set free in the wind so that everyone that might be afflicted with the same kinda madness, might be able to slate the bloodlust like hunger that has caused many days and nights to be lost thinking about this story and pining for more to fill our minds, bodies, and souls with this glorious ambrosia. Or maybe it's just me that has this inflicting them. ?????? It haunts me. It enthralls me. It has me daydreaming, drooling, and sweating like an addict needing a fix. It's grip on me is that strong. This fic should come with a warning in the tags telling everyone that it will most likely change your whole reality and existence as u know it, forever. I bow to a true master of the word and humbly beg" pls pls pls can we be fed a little more soon?!?!? I am starving here! " Anyways.......sorry for rambling on and on fanatically on main. I'm going to go hide in my bed now and continue listening to the podfic of Forgotten, for the 15th cycle thru of my favs that I started this morning, and is what summarily prompted this outburst in the 1st place, after I came across this post on my page.

All the love to @seperis & @northern-sparrow for bringing such awesome & inspiring artistry into existence and gracing our world with it. U have my eternal love, gratitude, and devotion forever and beyond!!!! 🥰🥰🥰👏👏👏👏🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🏆🏆🏆🏆🏆♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️

You ever read fanfic so god tier you have to wait for real life to load back in so you spend half the day doing tasks with that dead look in your eye, replaying all your favorite moments?

[thetrinitytest]

[hitorimaron]

Inspired by I will be chasing a starlight by @feyburner @sundiscus

Summary:

“You know what?” Wei Ying said. “I think we should be friends.”

“Vulcans do not have friends,” said Lan Zhan. He was staring very determinedly at the screen in front of him.

Wei Ying frowned at him. “That can’t be right.”

[awhoreintheory]

Okay okay I have. Two thoughts that have been in my brain for a while that could go together if you want:

1. Peter, both as Spider-Man and his civilian identity, meets Red Hood/Jason first, and Jason, much to his dismay, gets attached REALLY quickly. This snarky, acrobatic shithead is adorable and reminds him of Dick, and to his horror, himself. Depending on how old Peter is, whether his actual age or he's deaged, Jason is either going "new baby brother" or "my child now". He signed the mental adoption papers SO fast and he's mad as hell about it, and he knows the heart attacks Peter gives him are karma

2. Peter is shockingly similar to Jason in a lot of ways; bonus points if Ben is an alternate version of Jason. He grew up poor, had issues with Tony in Homecoming because Tony wasn't trusting him and Peter believed Tony didn't care/was too controlling (parallels to both Jason *and* Dicks relationship with Bruce), died at 15, was betrayed by a sort of mentor/parental figure he was just getting to know, traumatized deeply by a green and purple themed crazy guy who killed his mother figure in an explosion he tried protecting her from, 100% has trust issues after all that... yeah the similarities are definitely there and you KNOW that would pain Jason. In general I think Peter is a mix of Dick and Jason in terms of personality (i mean, Peter was worried about homework in Civil War, that's such a kid Jason thing) and... well a lot of ways, really. The parallels run deep lol. Oh also Peter in Homecoming had a similar color palette to Robin (mostly red suit with the yellow jacket) and in Far From Home/No Way Home he had the red and black suit. Idk!! Similarities. Oh oh you could pull Harley into this too if you want, since Tony knew Harley first and for way longer than Peter

Just... gestures. Everyone talks abt Peter and Dick parallels but no one discusses the Peter and Jason parallels

You're right. I was a down right FOOL to not see these downright gorgeous parallels???

And you KNOW that while Jason seeing their similarities hurts, imagine how Bruce, Dick, and even Alfred would feel about that? How they would feel about getting a glimpse of the happy-go-lucky kid that Jason used to be?

That's another similarity! Jason and Peter both started out as pretty optimistic and happy. Like, Jason was going around saying "Robin gives me magic!", how cute it that? And Peter started swinging around in homemade suits when he was 14, and is just generally hard to get down. Spider-man always gets back up, right?

So for Jason, Peter is nostalgic. He reminds him a little of himself, maybe how Jason could've turned out if he'd spent more time with Dick. Jason sees this kid so like himself but with the chance to turn out different, and he's gonna take that opportunity damnit!

Bruce and Dick? They see a ghost of the past at first. Bruce doesn't see many of Jason's smiles anymore, if ever, but he could've sworn they looked just like that. Dick is a bit more privy to a relaxed Jason, so he hears it in how Peter speaks, his laugh, and how he gets when he's passionate about something. No one else really sees it besides Alfred, because they didn't get to see Jason without his anger.

I love me some Harley!! He's a cutie patootie. And would also add amazing angst,,, giving only child, orphaned Peter Parker middle kid syndrome was actually a therapeutic recommendation by my therapist, scouts honor. Because hello! Harley and Morgen? I need more siblings content of them.

[sysig]

Softly, slowly, I want to love you anyway (Patreon)

[wazzappp]

@quasar-crew MY BRAIN FINALLY LET ME FUCKING DRAW SHIT LETS GOOOOOOOO.

Ok so all of these ideas are seriously impacted by quaser and polarspaz's amazing fic which you can read here and also this one called undertow. The combined might of these two fics are giving me brainrot that could make Ethan Winters jealous.

I love seeing everyone give Leon mandibles. Seriously. Mandibles for the win. Bug boys stay winning ong frfr. BUT. I wanted to try and do something slightly different because I saw the regenerators in the remake and went JESUS CHRIST WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT ITS HORRIFYING and then proceeded to watch like 3 speculative biology videos about how they work.

I have given himb. Teef. When in doubt just add more teef this always works no exceptions.

I had some VERY OBVIOUS Xenomorph inspiration I'm not even gonna pretend like I didnt. However I am very proud of his tail. Ive essentially created a design that allows it to turn into a saw once its impaled someone. If the blade of the tail gets caught halfway through someones torso? Shaboom. The spines flex and you've got an automatic bone saw now cut that guy in half.

I also have some speculation about how the plaga itself mutates the body.

Given that in game the infecting agent is called a 'toxin' I can only assume that the plaga is mutating its hosts with a geneotoxin. A genotoxin is a chemical agent that causes chromosomal damage and/or mutations. Usually these mutations refer to cancer, but the plaga could absolutely be making something specialized to mutate a host in a way it deems beneficial. This would mean that the plaga would probably be pulling nutrients/calories/protien/WHATEVER it needs from Leons body, and using it to create and refine this toxin.

Also, the black blood vessels leads me to believe that the plaga is spreading this toxin through the cardiovascular system, so I made a diagram that includes 'barbs' in the left ventricle and left atrium. I figure the toxin would be essentially 'hitching a ride' to the oxygenated blood that would then spread throughout the entire body. That also got me thinking about how much I see Leon coughing up some kind of black substance. I think that could be his body purging materials that the plaga has deemed 'waste'. So genetic material that it doesn't think is needed would be coughed up. So. Uh. I guess he's basically coughing up his own rotten insides. That gets worse the longer I think about it.

[assignedclownatcheckout]

Wanted to share some photos of my first bind! @roguedruid 's fic Hero Class Civil Warfare is absolutely God Tier™ and it was the first bnha fic I ever read.

As this was my first bind I've got a few notes: first, I used the complete wrong paper weight so this book is deceptively chonky (not to say it isn't long, but still); second it was first bind so I didn't do anything too ambitious with the cover.

Anyways, I'm really pleased with it and I'm happy to share it! @roguedruid I hope I did your amazing work justice!

I wanted to take some better photos before posting this, but uhhh, I was procrastinating 😅

[mexicanpadfoot]

Whenever I’m sad I remind myself I’ll likely be alive while part 2 of TCOPTP is being released and I’m no longer sad, I’m excited ✨

(Image is not mine)

[susieandhobbes]

Racism is wild because what do you mean Richonne has 1500 fics on AO3 and like 50% of them are only as side characters to the most demented and godless ships you've ever has the misfortune of seeing tagged???

A CANON post-apocalyptic, relunctant allies to lovers, found family, I would kill and die for you ship and 1000 fics is IT?!?!

[feyres-divorce-lawyer]

*claps and rubs hands together* alright you miscreants, behold! epic literature provided by moi

~ You Might Be King Of Half The World, But You’ll Not Own Me As Well by WickedTheRedHorse (a literal masterpiece, i’m being so serious rn. when i say i only ship fanon darklina, this is what i mean)

~ the reports associated with my existence have been significantly misconstrued by davidstennant (multi-media fics aren’t usually my jam, but this, this is good jam. exquisite jam. would gladly slather it over some challa bread and feast) [note: hasn’t been updated since may last year]

~ Liar’s Waltz (based on the poll) by @sunlightsage (first rhysta fic i ever read🤌🏾🤌🏾)

~ House of Mirrors by ae_neon (love a widow whose husband died under mysterious circumstances — @ae-neon)

~ Burial Rites in Crepuscular Hours by Existential_Teatime (badass alina rights, badass alina wrongs, when she makes the darkling question his intelligence>>>)

~ #8024 by SimplyAnotherWriter (marinette in arkham. that’s it)

~ The Journey to You by Thisishowitbegins (responsible for my resolute belief that timinette is the superior maribat ship, can’t believe this the author’s debut fic) [note: updates may be long as author grew incredibly busy]

~ Feylin Oneshots by Bookish_Gal (let’s be honest here, it’s by @bookishfeylin, need i say more. if you haven’t read it, what are you doing? alexander and adora live on my heart. also dragon tamlin, like hello???)

~ A Court of Frost and Embers by Midnight_Wishes (i made a whole, 6 minute long tiktok abt this on my first acc (that got banned because that clock app is so damn sensitive) really took my feycien obsession from brainworm to brainrot. the absolute longing and devastating angst because lucien knows feyre needs to break the curse yet falls for her anyway, but feyre doesn’t know so she just thinks lucien’s avoiding her for no reason. crushes my heart in the best way. and their calanmai scene, whew) [edit: @goforth-ladymidnight is the author’s tumblr)

~ heaven can’t help me now by disarmed (completed, perfect, there aren’t enough feycien infidelity fics out there)

~ The Girl and the Wolf by MythNinesevenine (miss janet dreams that she was as good at writing as @longsightmyth, DREAMS, i said)

~ A Court of Family Secrets and A Court of Flames and Shadows by flamesandshadows (feyre not going back to rhys after she finds out, nesta not going on that stupid hike, feycien friendship revival, eris and elain sibling relationship, elucien, azris, feyre ruling hewn city. literally all i could ask for)

~ Riddles in the Dark by flamesandshadows (feyre never gets sa’d utm. that’s it)

~ Sacrifice by flamesandshadows (rhys doesn’t get his powers back in acowar)

~ Reputation by flamesandshadows (nyx learns that his family isn’t as innocent as he grew up believing, especially his father. my favorite part, he goes absolute ape shit and deadass almost kills rhysand when he finds out what happened utm)

~ The Great Ikea Game by IcedAquarius (have you ever played hide and seek in ikea with your brothers and then you meet a girl that helps you with god-like magic because she’s bored? well that happens to damian wayne) [first work in an incomplete series but this work itself is completed]

~ Second Best by stormpill (Second Best Cinematic Universe is an actual collection with 75 works across 15 fandoms, Inspired by Second Best - stormpill is an actual tag. SB was a cultural reset. two sun summoners? genius. fjerdan barbie is the best inside joke i know. this shit was so good y’all, i’m so sad it was deleted)

~ Dragonlight by Anonymous (tgt/asoiaf crossover. alina lands in king’s landing (ha, get it) and ends up in a sacrifice by that mad king dude to bring back dragons, except due to her small science, it works. so now alya’s a dragon mama to six firebreathing cuties. alina and that rhaegar dude (that’s his name right?) marry to protect alina from his father cuz bro is called the mad king for a reason. political intrigue, yum.) [sporadic updates]

Veiled Wings and Shattered Panoramas — A Series by Dragonfly08 (@dragonfly0808 S4 REWRITE IS TOMORROW🥳🥳. best winx rewrite like ever. netflix wishes, WISHES, that they could ever be as good as writing winx as dragonfly is. btw A Withering Pretense is the best rewrite, argue with your mother)

if you don’t read at least one of these, i will cry🙂

[giddlygoat]

i love wander and sylvia’s queer platonic dynamic. nothing is better to me than soulmates who are besties. bonus points if they’re both gay in opposite directions.

also, wander gives me a lot of aroace vibes, or perhaps he just can’t be labeled. it’s hard for me to imagine him in a traditionally romantic relationship of any kind, though i can easily see him being freely giving with his affection and reciprocating towards others who may have a more traditional crush on him. does that make sense? he has whatever bugs bunny has. i can’t explain it

sylvia on the other hand. dyke 1000%. i could also see her as being on the aro spectrum, though. she strikes me as the type to only be able to form romantic feelings after having a strong pre-established friendship first. and i think ultimately she could be happy without romance altogether and with wander as a life partner.

ok thinking about it now i feel insane because hater also gives me huge aro vibes and now im beginning to think woy is just one of the most aromantic shows out there lmao

[idk-bruh-20]

Irondad fic ideas #146

Karen is missing someone.

She's an AI, so she's not exactly supposed to have "feelings" the way a human would, but... what other way is there to explain it? Someone is supposed to be in her life, and they are not. She wants them back.

The problem is, she can't find any record of why she feels this way. There are no important people in her database who are currently missing, no gaps in her code that she can find. The only curiosity is the fact that she seems to no longer be helping Spider-Man.

That used to be her prime objective. Her entire reason for being. Maybe he's the one she's missing? She can't find any data to indicate that they were close, but perhaps that is a curiosity too. Surely, if Spider-Man wore a mask with her programming for all that time, she would know who he was, would have some record of their conversations.

With FRIDAY's (and Tony's! let my guy live!) help, Karen is untethered from the Spider-Man suit. She goes searching through every piece of tech she has access to for her missing friend.

When she finds him, she'll figure out what's wrong. And she'll help him fix it. It's what she was designed to do.

[sabotsen]

Extended Connection 6

It does not happen the first time. Nor the second or third. Only after you have made a habit of it does he even dare to act upon the fleeting impulse.

Sleep still eludes you on most nights, and as the dark nights bled into pink hued mornings, he had long since narrowed down the reasons. Stress powered by the demands and expectations of those who have never walked upon the battlefield and nightmares shaped by both memories and deep rooted fears. So when you first fall asleep sitting beside him, it is a precious stolen moment he shields in the same manner he sheltered your presence in the library. Quietly, ardently -- the diligent watch of the sheepdog around the herd.

It is only when your breathing measured out, slow and deep, did he gently and carefully gather you in the mindful embrace of his arms. Every movement is carefully calculated to minimize the chance of disturbing you -- metal fingers cautious not to brush against bare skin, the purposeful position and bundling of his scarf and clothes to soften the hard planes of his frame. Slowly, gently, he would carry you back to the Gray Raven lounge and lay you down upon the couch, his touch always hesitant to leave.

It starts small, after he has carried you back enough times to fill a row of tally marks hidden in a journal on the last page. It's little things at first -- lingering, kneeling beside you for too long in the silence before he tears himself away agonizingly slow like bloodied gauze peeled from wounded flesh. Then it's his hands, finding their way into the folds of your sleeves and pressing his head against the couch cushions as if praying.

Once, he slips the tips of his fingers into the delicate curve of your hand -- hoping, praying that perhaps the touch would provide some solace somehow. When you don't react -- no flinch from the chill of his touch or slow curl of your fingers against the light pressure against your palm -- that is when the damning thought pops into his head. In the dim light of the lounge, he sees the muted hues of winter. In the silence that hangs in the room, he hears the deafening absence of sound in the wake of the train wreckage. The small flicker of your heat beneath his touch is the fading warmth of the departed.

That is all it takes for the fear and unease -- the guilt and remorse -- to bloom bright and bold like blood upon snow and sear his wires down to scrap.

He moves on instinct.

He moves on doubt and prayer knotted together -- inseparable and stained.

Careful, touch light with measured distance, he rests his head on your stomach and only when you breathe in does the fabric if your shirt brush against his cheek.

You're alive, he knows this.

You are not upon the battlefield nor are you nursing a wound so critical that you may never wake.

You're sleeping, safe.

He knows this. But he slowly strips away his hesitation and allows the weight of his head to fully rest against you. There’s a longing scratching at the walls of his heart — a yearning that burns at his fingertips. It nips at the base of his skull — an ache to press his ear to your chest instead and listen to the steady rhythm of your heart.

But it would wake you, he’s sure. How you’ve yet to wake from him practically nuzzling against the softness of your stomach is a marvel in and of itself. How exhausted must you be? How much longer must you wear yourself thin?

Is there more can do for you — more he can be for you beyond just an assistant and a shoulder to lean upon? Where will you draw the line as he inches closer to you?

Noan blinks, noting the furrow in your brow that deepens the longer he lays there. He’s careful about the pressure he’s placing on you — and he is ever mindful of your vitals — but there is a nagging worry gnawing at the back of his mind. Is this causing you discomfort? Pain?

A chill seeps into him at the thought, merciless as winter.

It crawls up his spine, and forms delicate like frost yet damning all the same as it chills his cheek pressed against the warm folds of your shirt. Noan closes his eyes.

He should stop. He should go. It’s been long enough, he can’t stay here. Heroes never meet kind ends when they linger in the company of monsters for too long, after all.

A bitter smile plays upon his lips as he slowly lifts his head and withdraws.

Something light brushes against the crown of his head, however, and he freezes. A flash of panic flares, painting his expression in a rare display of emotion as his eyes snap up to your face. Your brow is still furrowed with a faint press of your lips into a troubled line, but the deep and steady pace of your breathing tells him you’re still asleep. The touch returns, fumbling before it settles fully upon his head and the gentleness of that touch shakes him down to very nuts and bolts that hold him together.

Your hand.

It’s your hand.

Clumsy with sleep, your hand slowly and gently ruffles his hair, blunt nails occasionally idly scratching at his scalp.

Warmth sinks into him, sweeping through him with all the natural grace of spring coaxing flowers from winter’s slumber. It’s enough to leave him shaking — it’s enough to shatter him to pieces. Helplessly, Noan curls his fingers into the fabric of your sleeve, clinging to you in the only way he can without risking waking you up.

Ardently, he follows the subtle pressure of your palm and allows his head to rest upon your stomach once more. The furrow in your brow lessens slightly, your expression softening just a fraction as your hand runs through his hair.

Noan hears, as well as feels the faint rumble, when you hum softly.

“Good boy,” your voice is a soft, sleepy murmur.

Immediate is the blush that spreads across his face, warmth spreading from more than just your touch. If he still had a human body, he doubt he’d be able to hear anything over the rush of blood pounding in his ears. Noan buries his face in the fabric of your shirt, hands trembling as he pressed his knuckles into the couch cushions.

Slowly, the movement of your hand ceases, buried in his hair as you fall back into the depths of whatever dream held you.

Noan remains as you sleepily coaxed him, soaking in every bit of your warmth like a sunflower reaches for the sun.

Just a little longer. Just for now.

Surely you will forgive him for this moment of greed.

[hitorimaron]

Inspired by Time Signature by @letteredlettered

[cargopantsprentiss]

Couldn’t resist drawing this beautiful image painted by @geyranger’s words - read the fic here.