101 - 120 of 733 Bookmarked Items in Rustin "Rust" Cohle
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Crash is in thirteen places at once, thirteen pieces, and today is the day. Today has to be the day. The whine of static in his ears and the way the coke hones the corners of his vision sharper than Ginger’s Bowie knife. The way if this ain’t the end of it then he’ll beg for Miles’s bullet, maybe. He’ll beg for it.
— 1993. Crash and the end of days.
Series
- Part 2 of hunger and haunt
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Bookmark Notes:
If I could snap my fingers and make one fanfic official canon, some secret long lost filmed episode that resurfaces: it would be this one. HAUNTED by this Crash, this Rust, this Morales, even this Ginger, and the relationships between them. Impossible for me to think of this one without thinking of lost causes.
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Lucy is a halfway house located somewhere on the road to sanity and normalcy. He should stop lingering there.
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Through the power of somebody else recommending it to me, I have finally found a fic that accurately captures how I think Rust would be with sex workers-or at least, one sex worker he saw repeatedly, which is how he would end up doing it. Gorgeously written with MANY excellent lines packed into the word count. A nice meditation on Rust that launches off from some tasty, very real feeling ideas about North Shore.
Well, fuck that. Rust has felt awful and he’s felt nothing, and between the two he’ll take nothing every time. And this—the low buzz of neon lights over the bar, the mosquito hum of voices, the yellow-orange smell of beer in the air—it feels like nothing. So he stays.
[...]
He storms out, or tries to; since North Shore it’s kind of felt like all his joints don’t quite meet up and he can’t really storm anywhere, just sort of delicately amble.
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He’s spent the last minutes unveiling a wound he’s kept guarded under dozens of bandages for years, and peeling each one of those layers off, no matter how careful he’s trying to be, still hurts like he’s roughly tearing at them instead.
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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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Just sweet :)
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After the hospital, Marty took Rust home. He hadn’t intended for Rust to stay; in fact, he envisioned Rust disappearing to Alaska or some other part of Louisiana where Marty would never see him. But that hadn’t happen. Rust parked himself on Marty’s couch and popped pills and drank and smoked until he healed and then he didn’t leave. And Marty, who kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, let him stay.
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meanish, good
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Waking up from a nightmare doesn't mean a worse reality anymore. It means finding themselves next to someone they fully trust, and would give their lives for - someone they love. Marty and Rust are grateful for sharing this feeling and they try to show it to each other on their own, unique ways.
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Bookmark Notes:
short n sweet, they're married
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Set In Crooked Trajectory by orphan_account
Fandoms: True Detective (TV 2014), True Detective
18 Sep 2024
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Monday, March 11th 1974, 14-year-old Calliope Merrick is reported missing by family.
"What if God, desiring to show his wrath and to make known his power, has endured with much patience vessels of wrath prepared for destruction,”—
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It's January 1995 and the weather hasn’t dipped below sweltering since last year. Rustin Cohle is nearing thirty-two, vacillating between addiction and despair as the Louisiana damp slinks down his back and intertwines her sweating fingers with his. He’s obsessed; obsessed with this case, obsessed with his stored memories, obsessed with the antlers and the devil traps and the missing women and children along the bayou.
Iris Dumont is looking at him, he’s looking through her skull and to the shelves of liquor behind her. Rust Cohle is an animal; he is cold and hungry but she’s circling overhead and waiting for him to lay down. To rest before she tears into the hard flesh of his body.
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Rust tells himself they’re memories, though they come with the force of hallucinations. What it feels like is being unstuck in time.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,267
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 24
- Kudos:
- 216
- Bookmarks:
- 25
- Hits:
- 1,819
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Bookmark Notes:
Interesting Rust fried brain memory issues angle, done well, heart hurt
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“You spilled your beer on my boots,” Rust says in an oddly calm tone. His expression still hasn’t changed, the strange taut planes of his face relaxed in way that has Marty feeling even more ill at ease. “I think you should clean them up.”
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“It’s like that, huh,” Rust says, slipping a hand up under Marty’s shirt to brace around his rib cage, then exploring lower, further, until he’s tracing along the softer inner part of Marty’s thighs where his shorts have rucked up.
“Quit teasin’,” Marty says, without any honest dismay or heat to it. His body curls into Rust’s, ready and willing, though what he wants will take a little more time just yet. “You already know how it is.”
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After taking down Errol Childress and surviving the unfathomable, Rust and Marty struggle to find meaning in the aftermath, their only solace found in one another.
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Good post hospital
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河口之夜。
Series
- Part 25 of True Detective S1真探译文集
- Part 2 of [translation] hadaly's works
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真探S1奇幻AU《志怪奇谈》系列之一
古堡下的怪物
bottom Marty全文共30章，完结
Series
- Part 1 of 志怪奇谈
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很喜欢开头 但之后的发展出人意料
看题目和设定以为会是一个类原作组队探秘，而秘密本身跟拉斯特隐藏的真身有关的故事
没成想是很简单直白的锈马人外play夜夜笙歌文学！！至少有20w字在炒小马罢（你
还有mpreg
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One of the only damn reasons Marty tangled with men at all was their understanding of a few tacit rules, the first being that it was just getting off, just physical release and nothing more. The second being that it was never to be spoken of. Hell, it was rarely even asked for directly, the less said the better. Primal signals worked best: sitting a little too close in the sauna at the rec center, having a few too many whiskeys at the bar together. Men were uncomplicated and predictable, and Marty should’ve just stuck to blowjobs on dusty Parish roads instead of chasing a piece of tail like Lisa.
Figures Rust’d be like a woman, wanting to talk about what happened.
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“The crybaby routine don’t work on me” he says carefully, clearly discomforted when Sig can’t stop crying. Crash gingerly drapes his jacket on her shaking shoulders and the shocking weight of a gun in the front pocket stops her tears. It’s loaded. Her lip puckers again with how it’s comforting. Sig used to shoot ducks with her dad and before that hunter orange clay tiles thrown out over the backwater. Shotgun recoil bruised her shoulder black and blue, an ache akin to the sudden loneliness of being without him now. Just her and Crash looking at her like he’s ready to catch her before she ran out into traffic.
Series
- Part 2 of RIDERS IN THE SKY
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you dared not look. a human voice, / you thought by inkandcayenne
Fandoms: True Detective
31 Jul 2015
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At North Shore they called it repetition compulsion: the desire to throw himself into a ravine because at least he recognized the landscape. They warned him that he would do this again, and again, and again if he wasn’t careful. “It’s like you’re always bracing for a fight,” Laurie said once, “and if it doesn’t happen, you create one.” Sophia’s blood on the driveway, Marty’s blood in the parking lot, Psyche with her goddamn lamp, poking at a good thing until it’s scorched and screaming. There’s only one story, the oldest: “You climb a tree too high for you,” his pop said, as he passed Rust a bottle of whiskey and began to splint his arm, “you best be prepared to fall and get hurt.”
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15
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This is a collection of little shippy bits and pieces that range anywhere from fluffy to sexy to sad~
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It was a foregone conclusion as far as Rust is concerned.
Some post-episode 4 porn
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