Fanfic Recs by coprime

The Longest Surviving Intern at Night Vale Community Radio (Dave/John, Carlos/Cecil | PG13 | 52,165 words): Dave ends up in Night Vale somehow and becomes Night Vale Community Radio's newest intern. This is one of those things that I would not think would work well, but it so does. It is honestly super interesting, merging Homestuck's weirdness and Welcome to Night Vale's weirdness. Dave is well set to deal with Night Vale when he arrives, even if Night Vale is a different flavor of odd from what he's used to. And there's a slowly unfolding plot that works with both canons and makes so much sense.

Excerpt:
[Dave:]* ‘Sup, Night Vale.

[Cecil:] A little more vivacious, Dave.

[Dave:] Greetings, listeners!

[Cecil:] I already told you not to imitate me. You need to develop your own flare if you want to become a co-host of Night Vale Community Radio. It is our responsibility to the good people of Night Vale not only to inform, but to entertain, and one day, to provide a false sense of security when we are all irrevocably, unconditionally, doomed.

[Dave:] That day wouldn’t happen to be in April, would it? The thirteenth maybe?

[Cecil:] Which day?

[Dave:] The one where we’re all doomed.

[Cecil:] Dave, don’t say things like that! Were you listening to anything I just told you?

[Dave:] I was, but apparently my Cecil translator was switched off. Sorry, Mister C., won’t happen again.

[Cecil:] Apology accepted. Now, try something like: The winds whisper across the dry, desert sand. They are whispering your name. Welcome, to Night Vale.

[Dave:] I just got chills.

[Cecil:] Dave, you promised you would take this seriously.

[Dave:] Alright, alright, here goes nothing. A game is never just a game. A friend was never just a friend. Never trust a clown. Never leave without saying goodbye. And never, under any circumstances, turn your back on the body. Welcome to Night Vale.

[Cecil:] Bravo! Keep going.

*Note: Probably something like three-quarters of this fic is written as dialogue, with about the first half being solely dialogue, and the only indication of who's talking is the font color. (In the bit I've excerpted, Dave's dialogue is his canonical red and Cecil's is Night Vale purple.) I've added in the characters' names here, but depending on how you read AO3, this fic may be more or less readable/understandable.

Comets and Coal (Karkat/Gamzee | PG13 | 21,393 words | sequel to Diamonds and Stars): For Karkat and Gamzee, life after quitting the traditional porn industry includes obsessive stalkers. This is a really interesting fic dealing with (mostly Karkat's) stalkers and the consequences of them and how Karkat and Gamzee work together on a day-to-day basis.

Excerpt:
"Sometimes a fucker just…gets sick up in the pan," he says, and leans forward, tucks your head under his chin so you can feel his squawk-blister hum against your skin. You focus on that, try to breathe—the list of awful things they said, the things they wanted to do to him, it keeps scrolling past behind your eyes and you can't stop shaking, gasping for deep, fast breaths that make the roof of your mouth buzz and don't seem to get you any air. "A couple sick fuckers, Karkat, but not some god set to come down on us. Just trolls, love, fuck, just trolls. Shooosh. And we got bigger on our side, bigger and better. There's those as love you better, remember?" He kisses your head, the root of one horn, slips his hand under the back of your shirt to rub cool circles on your overheated skin. "We got the biggest and most baddest of bitches on our side we got me and we got you and—fuck, we got the goddamn empress, beloved, they won't just come in here and hurt not a single one of us."

"We—could fight," you say, shaky, trying to convince yourself, "—you can—you could—" You trail off, unwilling to ask from him what's running through your pan, but the words hang unsaid in the air between you. He makes a low noise, a strange, chittering, feral noise low down in his thorax.

"For you, love?" His long, thin fingers loosen and settle, kneading, like he's finding his grip on a weapon. For a second, his whole body is harsh angles. "For you. I'd kill a hundred motherfuckers and paint my sign in their blood. Fuck off, for all them as might come after, fuck off, he's mine now."

"God—" you're tearing up again, it's stupid how much your thinkpan is melting at the stupid violent awful things he's saying, and you can't stop smiling even while you nudge your forehead into his cheek. "—no—no, I don't—want you to commit fucking—hrk, no mass murder, that's a l-last resort—" you sniff, but it's too late to clean up the awful mess of your face. You must look terrible. The panic is starting to fade, and in its wake you're self-conscious, trembling and wet with tears and worse. You must look fucking awful. "—I'm—fuck, I'm okay. I'm back, I got it. Here, take these off, I'll—clean up. We need to plan for—"

GHB & Dualscar: "I Wasn't Expecting The Spanish Inquisition!" (Marquise Spinneret Mindfang, The Grand Highblood, Orphaner Dualscar | PG13 | 452 words): This is just perfect for what it is. The joke (which you will either get or not, depending on your knowledge of Monty Python) made me laugh. And it's the perfect length so it doesn't overstay its welcome.

Excerpt:
ODS: the rudders vwell fucked up with the rigging
MSM: Come again?
ODS: THE RUDDERS VWELL FUCKED UP WTH THE RIGGING
MSM: Wh8t the f8ck does that even mean????????
ODS: fuckin hell i didn't expect a fuckin church inquisition
GHB: NOBODY EXPECTS THE MOTHERFUCKING CHURCH INQUISITION

Troll Disease (Dave/Karkat | PG13 | 2,499 words): Karkat thinks he and Dave may be in a moirallegiance. This is hilarious. Everyone's responses are perfect. Like, I can't pick a favorite line because there's at least a dozen that had me chuckling aloud.

Excerpt:
CG: LOOK, YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE I CAN TALK TO ABOUT THIS, OKAY?
CG: I CAN’T TALK TO A HUMAN ABOUT IT AND YOU’RE THE ONLY TROLL I’M ON SPEAKING TERMS WITH.
GA: Your Social Failings Arent My Concern
GA: Im On Good Terms With ALmost Everyone There Arent Even That Many Of Us
CG: THIS ISN’T THE POINT.
CG: I NEED TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT STRIDER.
GA: Then I Am Particularly Ill-Qualified To Assist You
GA: Perhaps I Should Put You Through To My Matesprit If You Are Done Making Comments About Her Admittedly Charming Alien Anatomy