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Time is a flat circle (to consume is to love) by Devybc_whynot
Fandoms: Hannibal (TV), True Detective (TV 2014)
17 Nov 2025
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“What can you tell me about Dora Lange?”
“Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time.”
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After her stay in Baltimore state hospital, Willow Graham is called back to Louisiana to talk about her old case; Dora Kelly Lange and that means seeing two men she left behind. -
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In January '95 Detective Rustin Cohle meets Winifred Sellick, a theology student called in to give out an assisting dictum in the latest "ritual occult murder" for the Louisiana State CID. Through the years they end up colliding over and over and over again and turning each other's hunger and haunt inside out. Will they learn to accept that time is not one, but two flat circles interlacing?
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Rust sighed, big chunky ledger now in hand. He could’ve chuckled. “You stay here, analyze the scene,” he ordered, “I have residents to talk to.”
“You gon’ comb through the Yellow Pages?”
Rust gave him a blank look. “I’m takin’ the car. Don’t wander off.”“Later, Rust” Marty called out to the wind. Off the taxman went.
He skirted near the holel and stared detachedly— tried to, at least. It was hard; he hadn’t seen a crime scene like this since the bust.
————————Soon after the Dora Lange case in 1995, another case meets them, miles away. With their lives eroding at the seams and an unwilling new precint to keep track of, it’s up to them to solve it once again.
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Rust attends the Hart family’s Fourth of July barbecue, 1996.
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marty can’t remember what it felt like to be good husband and father.
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- Part 3 of TD Oneshots
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They take their respective meds, and they make dinners, and they fuck like old men, because they are. Nights, they sit out on the back porch they built together and they listen to crickets sing in the creeping darkness as the sun goes down. It’s not like they have anything better to do, not really; neither of them like to travel too far and neither of them want to move to fuckin’ Florida or something so they live a quiet, contained little life and Marty continually feels a little surprised how happy it makes him.
Or: Rust and Marty and life after almost-death.
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“So how are you and Laurie?” Marty asks, just to have something to say.
Rust is quiet for a long minute, pulling half his cigarette down his lungs in that nervous way he hasn’t done so often, like maybe he really had learned a new appreciation for the sanctity of human life, and Marty thinks maybe he’s touched on something fragile. Maybe he and Laurie are fracturing after all, his psycho-intellectual bullshit finally worn her down. The rolling paper crackles softly in the silence between them as the cherry bites lower and lower towards the filter.
“I’m fixing to ask her to marry me,” Rust finally says, and Marty chokes on his beer like he’s had the wind knocked out of him.
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Or: Rust and Laurie in vignette.
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“You know the good years when you’re in them, or you just wait for them until you get ass cancer and realize that the good years came and went?”
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Marty had always been one to reminisce. -
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She trailed off. Her palm sweated cradling the phone. She flicked her eyes back, mouth drying. He had seen her too.
“Audrey?” Maisie’s voice was pinched. “Can you hear me?”
“Yeah,” she sighed it out, no muscle left in her stomach.
In a blue collared shirt and sweating like all get out, her father was drifting toward the high desk.
“You okay? Audrey? What is it?” Her sister’s voice was distant.
Ray looked over her shoulder, “Hey room five, you mind checking the guy’s name? Keys’ under the desk.”
He was looking at her over the desk. Audrey looked back. His mouth was pursed. Her mouth was open.
Neither of them said a goddamn word.
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Audrey tries to open an exhibition. Marty dreams. A cyclone hits New Orleans.
Series
- Part 1 of Premonitions
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Rust and her dad, Rust-and-her-dad, Macie can’t stop seeing it, the little ways they glance at each other, or don’t glance at each other, know each other well enough not to need to, to be assured innately that the other’s still there.
— December 2013. A family dinner, such as it is.
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- Part 14 of hunger and haunt
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It’s a good thing Louisiana doesn’t recognize common-law marriage, Marty thinks, since Rust doesn’t seem to be going anywhere anytime soon.
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Rust leaves Louisiana after Carcosa, travels across the country, falls into a nomadic life. Marty finds him working in a bar, living in a van in the desert. O small sad ecstasy of love.
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chapter1:ちいさなラストと父トラヴィス。
chapter2: 95年、資料室のラストとマーティ。
chapter3:02年以降、マーティの回想。 -
Who will come into my kitchen and be hungry for me? by glitterslag
Fandoms: True Detective (TV 2014)
26 Mar 2024
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The last time he felt a pull this strong Rust couldn’t see any reason not to follow it. Today, though he does: it’s Marty’s mower, folded up in the back of his truck, and tied to it the promise of a cool glass of sweet tea with lemon.
One Saturday, about six months into Louisiana, he finds a relic of Sophia.
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A fic post Carcosa. The boys of course, end up together, get tangled up into a new case.
“Remember the cover I had thought of when getting old files on Dora Lange from the CID?” Marty spurts out of the blue. They are lounging on the couch, back from a lazy day at a newly minted Hart and Cohle Investigative Solutions, TV showing one or the other football game serving as a white noise as Marty is half-asleep, half reminiscing.
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If there's a beginning, it's this:
Rust plunges into self-flagellation and flaunts the subsequent nightmare at the hollow caverns of his memory. And rifling through his self-proclaimed apotheosis is The Fall, suffused with unconscionable clarity and what can only be clinically described as a conclusive, melancholic sodomisation. The Fall does not begin or end at the parameters of Rust's conscious being. The Fall reigns above everything.
Or: the flat circle, circa 1987 - 2001; the Fall, circa 2002.
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Marty knew he couldn't help but come back, just trying to catch the shadow of the past, though all was meaningless now.
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8/23: ラストとメイシーの会話に抜けていた部分がありましたので、そちらを追加しました。
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One summer day in the 1990s, Rust gets railroaded into babysitting.
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Marty told Rust he'd have a place to stay after he left the hospital, and he meant it. He hadn't necessarily been expecting a week or two of recuperation to turn into a permanent kind of roommates situation, but Rust seems to have no intention of moving out, and Marty has no intention of kicking him out, either, for reasons he can't quite manage to articulate.
Which is to say, Rust has always been kind of prescient-- but Marty might not have guessed just how on the nose his joke about getting engaged was.