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aliensupastar · 1 year ago

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shouldn’t feel like a crime

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Carmy Berzatto/GN!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: You finally try Carmy’s cooking. Follow-up to “not wrong, but not right”

Part I Part III

Warnings: minor angst, comfort, fluff, depiction of an eating disorder, food and eating, healing?

A/N: first off, thank you all so much for the love on the first part! i wrote it as a comfort during a difficult time and it was so nice to see people enjoy it. i didn’t intend on writing more for it, but a few people asked for it and i finally got an idea for a follow-up! as a disclaimer, i wrote most of this before season 2 came out and edited it afterwards, but there are no spoilers. gif by emziess <3

Carmy is a good boss. You know this, you’ve known it for months. His sometimes-abrasive idiolect aside, he runs the restaurant like he cares about every brick that built it, every burner the crew uses to make each dish, every ticket that comes through that god-forsaken machine on the expo station. It makes any screaming match easily forgivable, and any nightmare lunch rush endurable.

What you didn’t know was that Carmy could also be a good friend. Since your stint in the emergency room he’s made good on his agreement with you, without ever being overwhelming. He’s instead mercifully subtle. There’s a few bottles of lemonade kept in the office’s mini-fridge now, for when you get dizzy. He’s lent you that coat of his a few times, when the night air ends up chillier than you predicted that morning, and you’ve left your own jacket at home. And he never fails to give you a look, during the busiest hours at the restaurant, communicating quickly, and quietly: Are you good? And you know if the answer is no, he’ll let you take a breather without a single complaint, but you always respond with a quick nod and push through the rest of the shift.

In turn, you do your best not to worry him. You take vitamins and get better sleep and try to stop pushing yourself to the brink of passing out. You even eat one of your safe foods in front of him, at family while everyone else enjoyed the samosas Ebrahaim had cooked up that day, and for once it felt good to eat; the constant playful bickering and banter a welcome distraction from the usual stress that follows your meals.

It’s nice. Maybe you don’t necessarily feel like you’re getting better, just more… stable. Less like you’re in a free-fall and more like you’ve got both feet on solid ground.

When you go to leave after closing up one night and find that it’s raining, impeding you from making your usual trek to the train station, you turn back and head to the office. And a few months ago, you might’ve been too nervous around Carmy to even ask to stay in the restaurant an extra hour, preferring to brave the cold rain and let your clothes get soaked and heavy rather than hang around. You’re relieved, now, to find Carmy right where you left him when you said goodnight just a minute ago, ready to save you from a miserable trip home.

“What’s up?” He asks when he spots you.

“It’s raining.” You tell him, nodding your head in the direction of the back door. “Didn’t bring an umbrella. Do you mind if I stick around for a bit, just ‘till it stops?”

“Yeah, it’s no problem, I’ll be here finishing up for a while, anyway,” He says, then continues after a brief pause. “Y’know you really gotta stop relying on that iPhone weather app.”

You scoff, shaking your head at his teasing.

“You know I’m too lazy to start using another one.”

“I’m just sayin’.” He pushes out of his chair and walks past you, into the kitchen, grabbing a sponge and the container of soap water he uses to clean the countertops.

“You want help?” You offer, already taking off your coat and tossing it onto the office chair.

“Nah, you already clocked out. Don’t worry about it.” He replies, not even looking up as he begins to scrub, but you pick up a sponge anyway and get to work on the counter behind him.

You fall into a comfortable silence for a while after that, only broken by the sound of rough sponges scraping away at the grime and the faint patter of rain on the roof of the building, and part of you wishes you had more opportunities for this. More time spent with him, outside of the hustle and bustle of the restaurant, even if it’s spent cleaning. His presence has become something you’d rather not avoid, even if it makes your heart race; the unique scent of him on the coat you’ve borrowed is becoming familiar, comforting.

“Glad it wasn’t busy today.” Your train of thought is interrupted by his sudden comment, but you quickly nod.

“Practically a miracle, for a Friday.” You agree, hearing him chuckle behind you.

“Didn’t need that shit today, anyways, not while I’m on,” He says. He was working the stovetop today, alongside Sydney, making an efficient team as they churned out dishes quicker than the customers could file in. It made your day a little easier, the delicious aroma wafting from the kitchen while you savored the downtime granted by the slow day.

“I’ve never tried your cooking,” You say offhandedly, but your words make him pause and look back at you, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Really?” He asks, and you nod. “You’ve worked here for months, though.”

“I know.” You shrug.

“How come?”

That makes you stop scrubbing, turning slightly to look at him.

“Think you know the answer to that one, chef.” You tease, before continuing to work. He huffs out a laugh, but keeps staring at your back while you scrub.

“I could make you something.” He finally says, and it makes you truly stop, turning to face him fully.

“Y’all just cleaned this whole kitchen.” Now it’s his turn to shrug.

“I don’t mind.” You give him an incredulous look.

“I- If you think I’m gonna help you clean the stove and the plates again, you’re wrong.” Carmy just shakes his head, tossing his sponge back into the container of water and grabbing a few clean pans.

“C’mon, I can’t have you walking around saying you’ve never tried the food at the restaurant you work at,” He says. “You like spaghetti?”

He’s casual in the way he asks, but you’re still standing by the counter, eyebrows raised in shock. Your mind is starting to race, the way it does every time you’re faced with food, but Carmy’s already pouring olive oil into a saucepan and brandishing his chef knife to chop an onion.

You approach the stove he’s standing at carefully, like it might just burst into flames, and you can already smell the familiar scent of garlic and olive oil and god, he’s only been at it for a minute and it already smells like heaven in this kitchen.

“Smell good?”

“Yeah,” You practically breathe out. “Shit, smells amazing.”

He smiles at that, a rare thing to see on his face. He’s thoughtful for a moment, before saying:

“This is, uh, Mikey’s recipe, actually.”

Your eyes widen, a bit taken aback by his mention of his late brother. At least, his mention of Mikey to you.

You’d learned about what happened to Michael just a few weeks after being hired, after having witnessed the heavy silence that overtook the room when he’d been mentioned, and asking Marcus after work what all that had been about. Since you received your explanation, you’ve tried to mind your own business when the melancholy that came with Michael’s memory returned, giving those who seemed to know him best room to process before getting back to work.

Carmy’s never talked about Mikey to you directly; no one has. You’re not sure what to say.

“Mikey, that’s… your brother, right?” You ask hesitantly, even if you already know the answer before Carmy nods.

“Yeah. He used to run this place, before it was The Bear.” He tells you.

“Before?” Your confusion and surprise seeps into your tone. “What was it before?”

“Still a restaurant, but, quick service. Italian sandwiches. We weren’t called The Bear, we were-“ He chuckles, caught up in reminiscing. “We were called The Original Beef of Chicagoland.”

“No shit! This used to be The Beef?” He nods his confirmation and you’re instantly brought back, the memory faded like an old photo that’s been shoved into storage and forgotten. The only thing that wasn’t hard to recall was the sandwich you’d ordered, practically dripping with flavor, the exact kind of comfort food you’d needed that day.

“Been here before?” He asks.

“Yeah, I just- I didn’t recognise it.” You’d sat at a table across from the friend that dragged you to the slightly shabby establishment, silently relishing in the deliciousness of your food before the panic could set in, so enraptured by it you didn’t even care about the booming voice coming from behind a door that presumably led to the kitchen. Not even when the person it belonged to came out to the front and-

“Mikey, was he like, tall? Black hair?” You suddenly ask, gesturing how tall you’d remembered the man being, and now Carmy’s the one that’s confused.

“Uh, yeah. You- you knew Mikey?” He sounds a little breathless when he asks, but you shake your head.

“No, but when I came here before, he was still running the place, I guess. And just… loud as shit. Hard to ignore,” You look up and meet Carmy’s eyes. “Hard to forget.”

You both share a laugh at that, at the memory of his brother that he loved, and that you barely even knew.

“Yeah, that definitely sounds like him.” The sweet smile stays on his face as he chops and sautées, refusing to let you do more than start boiling the spaghetti for him. All you can do is watch the pasta and watch him as he navigates his brother’s recipe like it’s pure muscle memory.

As much as you like to steal glances at him during opening prep, you don’t get to see as much of him during service hours. You’re just as busy working front-of-house, keeping people happy and keeping Richie off your ass, as he is while he’s trying to keep up on dishes. You don’t get a ton of chances to see him like this, in his element. He plates the finished spaghetti perfectly, in two bowls, so you know he won’t let you eat alone.

Still, the anxiety in your stomach rises when you accept the fork Carmy hands you, and you can’t help but pause. He does, too, and you know he easily recognises the cause of your trepidation.

“What’s up?” He asks, his voice gentle. You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of the conflict in your mind, but you can’t stop yourself from saying it.

“Do you… just, maybe have an idea of-“

“I have no clue how many calories are in this.” He answers your question before you can even ask it, and you can’t help but let out a breath of amusement — at yourself, at him for somehow knowing.

It’s his gentle smile, one that lacks judgment or pity, that pushes you to finally swirl the spaghetti around your fork and take a bite and-

Oh my god.

You can’t help the moan that escapes you during that first bite, ignoring Carmy’s chuckle at your slight dramatics. You can see why he’s hot shit in the restaurant world; the dish barely looked fancy or complicated when he’d made it, certainly not as complicated as anything on the menu, but somehow it tastes better than any pasta you’ve ever had. You would say you’re in disbelief, but you don’t pause long enough to think about anything but this, how amazing every flavor bursting on your tongue is.

Carmy finishes his pasta before you do, but he stands next to you till your bowl is empty, before taking it over to the dish pit and beginning to scrub down all the dishware he’d used. And you stand there for a second, staring at his back, unable to process all the emotion filling you as he washes your bowl. The bowl he let you get dirty, because he wanted you to be able to try his food.

The utter warmth flooding your senses is almost overwhelming.

Then, despite your earlier protests, you pick up the sponge he abandoned earlier and get to scrubbing the stovetop down again. You ignore the few warm tears that escape your waterline in the process.

You mindlessly follow Carmy around as he walks through each room, shutting off lights and locking the front entrance and office doors. When you inevitably make your way to the back exit, you push open the door only to find that it’s still raining, worse than it was hours ago. You can only sigh and lean your head against the doorway in defeat.

“Need a ride?” Carmy offers easily.

You think back to the frame that sits on the countertop out front, holding a slightly crumpled index card: “I love you, dude. Let it rip.” Words you’ve seen nearly every day since your first on the job; you just now realize they’re probably Michael’s.

It feels like too much. The letting you stick around, the pasta, the… everything.

You nod anyways, accepting Carmy’s offer, letting him lead you to his car, and he lets you lead the way home.

#carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto fluff #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the shrimp that fried that rice #my writing

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da-shrimping-station · 3 days ago

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Feast

Beelzebub x Reader

minors DNI or im busting your kneecaps 💚

suggestive content | bondage | a bit of food play | inspired by that Beel art from the Komiket interactive display | honestly idk what else to add

bare minimum editing/proofreading | english is not my first language

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You felt like the luckiest bastard in Hell right now.

There was an entire buffet laid out in the room. Plates upon plates of mouth watering dishes that would make anyone stuff themselves full. Drinks of every kind in pretty bottles and glasses. Fine cutlery and dining ware laid out on white sheets, waiting for you to sit down and glut yourself until you burst. Despite the smells wafting into your nose and the generous portions catching your eye, you head straight to the main course.

It was a sight that made you drool the second you saw it. It wasn't just the bare torso or the ribbons or the bottle of expensive champagne tucked into his pants. It was the fact that the King of Gluttony was propped up on a pedestal, eyes blazing and teeth gnawing at the bit and squirming to be let free. Suddenly, the buffet might as well be bland gruel in comparison.

Bright green eyes zeroed in on you as you stepped closer. He struggled even more, muffled noises growing more insistent, but the ribbons held.

Your hand reached out to cup his cheek. You squished it a little then scratched at the strips of cloth that served as his gag.

"You look very delectable, your Highness."

"Mmhff-!"

He sounded mad. Or maybe excited. Either way, it didn't stop you from feeling him up.

You pinched and groped, tan skin soft and muscles firm. One hand scratched red lines into his side while the other thumbed at his pierced nipple. The bright pink strips of cloth was a nice contrast to his rich oche skin. Your nails dug deeper, your grip turned bruising.

Groaning, Beelzebub writhed, tugging at the restraints even more. His flushed cheeks gave away how he really felt. More muffled noises came from his throat and you think he was telling you something. You had stepped back to admire your work with a pleased smile.

You've only had your hands on him and he already looked winded. Your eyes landed on the bottle at his crotch.

You deliberately ignored the bulge in his pants as you gently pried the liquor from his waistband. Your hunch was right. It was a bottle of champagne from Tartaros. The foil on the label shone nicely under the lights.

Beelzebub glared at you as you popped the cork off. The flush on his face was dying down now that you've stopped your ministrations but his erection persisted still. You took a whiff of the drink. It smelled sweet and citrusy. You know this bottle costs more than your own soul given its origin and you wanted to enjoy it to the fullest.

Your eyes shifted from the bottle to the bound King beside you. An idea pops up and you smirk.

The king of gluttony watches you like a hawk as you step into his space again.

Without hesitation, you poured champagne on his lips. You watched, mesmerized as the golden liquid dribbled from his chin and down his neck. Smaller rivulets trailed down his pecs and abs, eventually soaking the waistband of his underwear. You had to stop yourself before wasting the entire bottle.

The pink ribbons over his mouth were soaked and you think he's trying to get a taste with how his throat bobbed. He glared at you. You can't pinpoint why he's upset so you laughed it off.

Your hands grabbed him by the jaw, tilting his head and kissing him. It was awkward with the gag and the angle but the taste of the champagne and the feel of his lips on yours egged you on. He groaned, trying to better reciprocate the act.

Breaking the kiss, you poured champagne over him again, this time onto his torso.

Beelzebub growled. The sound sent shivers down your spine and you licked and bit at his collarbone to appease him. He growled again, less aggravated this time. You took it as a sign.

You continued to appease him with your mouth and tongue, cleaning up the trail of liquor on his torso. From his chest, down towards his stomach. You even went so far as to kneel to nip at the V of his hips, toying with the pink bow right next to his bulging arousal.

You made sure to leave marks as you went, adding to the ones you made earlier. You left hickeys and bruises over his tattoos and bite marks over the bare patches of skin. All the while he bucked and groaned, hips jerking whenever you touched a sensitive spot.

During all of this, the delicate pink ribbons did their job of keeping him in place. A part of you was concerned that the binds would snap. Whatever magic they were imbued with was pretty damn strong.

His highness was looking down at you, eyes glowing with lust and frustration. You shuddered, enjoying the way he looked at you while you were on your knees.

You could suck him off. His cock was right there in front of you, just about ready to burst from the looks of it. The tempting thought made you lick your lips. With him tied up, you had free reign to do as you please without so much as a peep from him.

He must've sensed your lewd intention, swaying his hips towards you as some sort of invitation. An urgent moan rumbled from his throat.

You bit your lip, weighing your options for a moment.

"Thank you for the treat, your highness," you said with a smirk. Then you got up and walked away, half empty champagne bottle in hand.

Incensed noises followed after your footsteps as you left. You knew for a fact that you can't handle the king of Abyssos on your own. He was a force to be reckoned with, whether he's fighting or fucking. And you were someone simple who lived by the rule of not biting off more than you can chew.

The bottle of liquor was more than enough of a prize. There was still enough for a glass or two to indulge in.

You were close to the exit, oozing with satisfaction as you walked past the buffet tables. The door was just a few meters away when–

Snap!

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A/N 🦐

eeyyyyy dont come after me i wrote this all in one sitting cuz that one Beel card wont get out of my head

i was gonna have the reader give him head but my skills aren't up to par so he gets blueballed instead lmaoooo i bet he would've wanted the reader to be a glutton and choke on his cock but where's the fun in that amirite

him bending the reader over one of the tables while he rails them and finishes the rest of the champagne is a nice image imo

thanks for reading!

#what in hell is bad #whb #prettybusy what in “hell” is bad?#what in “hell” is bad?#whb beelzebub #🦐:ramblings #🦐:drabble #local shrimp attempts writing smut once again #now i can sleep peacefully #how thte story ends is up to y'all

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leatherbookmark · 11 months ago

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random assortment of very dangerous 231231 seonghwas

bonus:

#seonghwa #ateez #kpop #shrimp gifs #yes in the 3rd gif he's hip thrusting along to hj's rap :') cute... <- an insane sentence that i'd never thought i'd write #but i just love how they do those little adlibs even when they're offstage (? off-center stage?) to hype the other guys up... cute cute

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softshrimpy · 1 year ago

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Guys. I don’t want to work a 9-5. I want to be a slutty housewife for a woman. Pls. Help.

#shrimp speaks #I just want to clean our house and draw my silly lil drawings and write my silly lil fics #I will do literally anything she wants #pls

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shrimpwritings · 1 year ago

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TADC: Keys

Jax had keys everywhere, and everyone had been fine.

There were so many keys in his room and blueprints of the circus that he tried to make sense of, and yet none belonged to him. Well, that was a lie. They were his, but…not originally.

Read Here

#tadc jax #tadc #the amazing digital circus #drabble #angst #i wrote this a month ago and I forgot I had this saved in my drafts #sorry y'all #shrimp’s writing

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beelsbignaturals · 1 year ago

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Somehow a Hellcat got into the HoL and walked right up to MC, plopping itself down in their lap and starting to purr. How would the brothers react? (I am beating Lucifer with a broom as we speak, the cat is NOT leaving)

AN: Back the fuck up Lucifer if you can have Cerberus I can have a kitty!

🐈‍⬛Soft Kitty, Warm Kitty, Little Unholy Being💕

Lucifer is… not enthusiastic about this development. He spent centuries telling Satan that he can't have a cat, and suddenly, you have befriended a wild animal? What's worse, the cat hisses and spits when anyone gets close to you! Wait… perhaps this can be beneficial… A loyal guard cat would be good for keeping a human out of trouble, right? It's totally not because Luci can't say no to your wide, pleading eyes.

Mammon initially is… freaking out. How did a wild animal break into the House? Oh shit! It's gonna EAT MC! Wait… they are… snuggling? Fuck… that's cute. And no, Mammon is not jealous of a damn cat, so don't go starting rumors! In fact, he's so unbothered that he is encouraging you to buy a collar with a little gold bell on it. This is totally not because he wants to get more brownie points. I mean, we all know Mammon is your favorite hell-spawn! Right? Don't worry. He warms up to "the fluffy menace" pretty quick. You may catch them cuddling when they both miss you.

Leviathan is the most chill with a random animal just… making itself a home. I mean his closest companions are a sea monster, a giant snake, and a goldfish. Of course you need a loyal animal friend. All the heroes have one! You should name it after the protagonist from this magical girl anime who can turn into a cat through the power of friendship-

Satan is in heaven. You and a cat? Who cares that it's the size of a small puma and has three eyes? It's still a cat! And with you as it's new best friend, Lucifer can't just ban the cutie! Satan is quick to join you in the "we gotta keep it!" spiel. He already has a list of names and so many cat toys. Congrats! You are co-parenting a wild animal with Satan! There is no escape.

Asmodeus is honestly not huge on animals. I mean.. they shed, drool, and are so much work. But hey, if it makes you happy to be mauled affectionately by a giant beast… At least let him get some cute pics to commemorate the occasion! Just promise not to your new pal run wild around the house. His room is a fur-free zone unless it's vintage. He will, however, be all over buying cute cat toys and collars. Fashion show time!

When Beelzebub realizes the cat isn't going to attack you, he goes from Protect Mode to "AWWWH LOOK AT THE HUMAN PLAYING WITH THE BABY!" You do know that this is a juvenile, right MC? Hellcats grow to the size of a well-fed grizzly bear. Oh well, Beel will help you feed it. He's honestly stoked to have a new fluffy family member. Your new bestie is much more friendly than Cerb.

Belphegor is pissed. That's HIS spot the little upstart stole! Honestly, Belphie is enraged that this feline had the gall to walk in and place itself on your lap, purring up a storm. He grumbles about it but can't help but appreciate the smile it brings to your face when you scratch behind the wild cat's ear. Just… make some room and play with his hair too, got it?

#om! shall we date #obey me #obey me mc #obey me x reader #shrimp writes #obey me fanfic #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me belphie x reader

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needle-noggins · 10 months ago

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Where do your roots start

And where do your roots end?

Something about seeing only the worst of yourself in the mirror. Something violent and terrifying, but knowing you only grew that violence in response to violence against you. Knowing your power comes from a place of trauma, something you don’t remember but wish had never happened. But it did, and here you are. There’s something new in you that isn’t the you that you understand and you wish it wasn’t but it is. Violence begets violence and you are unable to control what grows from the seeds that were planted. So you have to live with it and try not to let that violence spread.

You’ve already failed once.

And you see it every time you look in the damn mirror.

—

For Body Horror Week’s final day, prompt: Roots by In This Moment

#I was going to write a longer Drabble but holy shit Judas’s fic got me Shrimped good and instead I will refer everyone to that #Sav art #trigunbodyhorrorweek #vash the stampede #trigun stampede #tristamp #I’m REALLY proud of this I worked SUPER HARD ON IT #the roots and the flowers were so fucking annoying #but my favorite part is vash’s neck I wanna smooch it and tell him everything’s okay yaknow #also like same recognize same mirrors are evil and I hate them #I also love to give Eriks a lil ponytail as a treat

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shrimshrim4fun · 5 months ago

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A relationship with Jinhsi is the definition of:

If I betray you, I betray myself

If I betray them, I betray my country

My country is very dear to me

Dearer than I?

No,no,not dearer than you.

#gotta feed the shrimps #jinhsi x reader #jinhsi #random drabbles #angsty #wuwa #wuthering waves #might write a fic for this one

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pankekesito · 4 months ago

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Rust Cohle's tattoos - A mini-essay on their possible meaning

Hi, this is probably my longest post, I may have to split it into two parts due to the length but I will try to see that everything can be compacted into one post.

DISCLAIMER!

This mini essay is done purely as a hobby by a die-hard True Detective fan, none of this is actually 100% confirmed (other than the interview part of ‘The Last Magazine’). While this is as logical and accurate a research as possible, it's just a hypothesis of what Rust Cohle's tattoos seen in the series could mean; if you don't think it's reasonable, that's fine. All opinions are valid as long as they are made on the basis of respect!

Without more to say, I hope you find this Mini Essay interesting and fun, I made it with all my love for you (and obviously because of my love for Rust); I would like to know your opinions about it, even if they are not the same as me! (I will leave a section in my profile to give you the sources used in the research in case you want to know more about the arguments to support my opinion).

An apology if something is not fully understood, English is not my first language ⸜❤︎⸝

And remember, ⥁‘Time is a flat circle’⥀

Rust Cohle has two tattoos which are a bird of unknown species on his right forearm and an unidentified symbol on his chest; right where the heart is located.

Focusing on the forearm tattoo, thanks to a short interview in “The Last Magazine” published on May 10, 2016; Josh Lord who is a renowned tattoo artist who has worked to perform various tattoos in the entertainment world along with Joji Fukunaga who directed the first season of the series mentioned that they wanted the tattoos presented in this one to have the same detailed realism that is reflected in the audiovisual product. For the case of Rust Cohle initially in Pizzolatto's original script his tattoo would consist of a pair of flaming dice. Personally I'm glad to know that this didn't happen because while they tried to give him that wild and dangerous meaning, Rust doesn't believe in the randomness of fate and every action he takes he does it consciously, carrying in him the responsibility for his actions and not granting it to fate. Josh and Fukunaga had something clear and that is that the tattoos would go from being a decorative element to a characterization, a symbolic element of the souls and the truth of the guts of the characters.

For this very reason they chose to draw on Cohle's undercover past as a member of a criminal motorcycle gang, whose emblem was originally intended to be a raven. Subsequent revisions turned the gang into the “Iron Crusaders” where very aptly the tattoos of its members refer to anvils, bones, engine parts, demons, weapons, etc. Something important to note is that the vision of the Iron Crusaders is dark, mysterious, funereal and gloomy (as all its operation within the series), the initial idea where the raven would be its emblem makes sense because in general the raven is associated with death because they are scavengers, predators and for some civilizations they embody death and the underworld.

But while the terrain where the Iron Crusaders unfold has a close relationship with the first and best known negative view (symbolically speaking) of ravens, its positive meaning has more to do with Rust Cohle's behavior and reason. The raven can also be a powerful animal totem, a protector and spiritual guide, a shape-shifter, a messenger and the symbol of transformation. In its benevolent symbolism, it represents giving up on the human world in search of wisdom, as well as being a cunning and intelligent animal capable of adapting and embracing change. In the Scandinavian tradition, the raven is a sacred and wise figure that brings virtues of “reflection” and “memory” while in Native American tribes, ravens are revered for their intelligence and spiritual importance. They are considered messengers of the spiritual world, possessors of universal wisdom and protectors against evil forces. It is also said that in Norse mythology there were two ravens that always accompanied the god Odin, whose names were Hugin and Munin. Hugin represented the power of thought and Munin represented memory and intuition; every time the sun rose both were sent to earth in search of information and every night at sunset they returned to Odin's palace and whispered all the news and events of which they had learned on their visit to planet earth.

A fact that may not be so relevant (and most probably I am just adding it to be interesting) is that there is a constellation called Corvus having four points in its constellation that make it to be, which is related to the raven (it is all due to a Greek myth). I like to think that this has a lot to do with Rust's tattoo because of the position of his tattoo (more properly speaking the wings) with the resemblance to the graphic references usually used for the raven of the constellation Corvus and the close relationship it has with the universe and the cosmic. Also the four points of the constellation remind me of the four stages of Rust Cohle seen during the series (1995, Crash Comeback, 2002, 2012).

Now we can't overlook the fact that the Celts held ravens in high esteem, associating them with battles and the Celtic Goddess of war and destruction (Morrigan). Ravens were seen as protectors and warriors, embodying the qualities of intelligence and strategic thinking. The raven's ability to shape-shift, attributed to Morrigan, further emphasizes its transformative nature. All of the above meanings attributed to ravens provided by various cultures, whether with a positive or negative focus curiously fit perfectly well with the ideology of our armored detective Rust Cohle. Rust is surrounded by silent anxiety, tragedy, death, chaos and pain. He himself struggles even with internal battles, his demons from the past. Yet he has a strong mentality, he uses his reason to adapt to even the most unsafe territories even if it means changing shape (like Crash). The fact that he more than likely made the decision to get the tattoo during his infiltration as Crash when he was in the narcotics department is reasonable as he was like a predator within the gang, a shape-shifting scavenger trying to get answers as he shrewdly roamed the rubble of human evil. The raven was his way of remembering his purpose and no wonder, Rust is very skilled with manual tasks. His hands allow him to do his work properly; watching them constantly do the dirty work and hide or reveal the ashes when necessary makes him evoke his intention in this world and how ephemeral it is on the earthly plane. It is not for nothing that the raven is on his forearm, showing his bones as a sign that death will always be with him until his last breath.

To focus on his last tattoo (and the most intriguing in my opinion) we must go back to Celtic culture. As we have seen throughout the series, symbols and religions (beliefs of something beyond comprehension) are always present because they touch the most sensitive parts of human beings. Their constant search for belonging and the meaning of life. In Celtic culture runes are used as signs, talismans, symbols and runic alphabets. Basically runes are a writing system that was used in Scandinavia and parts of Northern Europe from the Iron Age to the Middle Ages. Although it is not known exactly who invented runes, it is believed that they emerged sometime around the 1st century AD. Specifically “Rune” means secret. Runes are magical instruments of power, carriers of secrets and wisdom. There are several types of runes with vast meanings however in my research I found four runes which I will use to support my hypothesis about the possible meaning of Cohle's chest tattoo. First we must be certain that the tattoo on the chest of Rust does NOT exist as such in the Futhark Runes, or in any other compilation of symbolism so we can say that this symbol is a composite symbol; referring to the fact that although it is based on the Celtic runes, it has NO direct relationship, nor systematically objective. We can notice it even more thanks to the inverted cross of the tattoo (soon we will return to this point).

Talking about the possible runes used for the composition of the tattoo we have:

•Rune Thurisaz ᚦ

Meaning: Door. Reflection. New options. Magical use: Regeneration. Concentration. Override negativity. Meditation. New beginnings. When you need luck and control of any circumstance. Protection and defense. Neutralize enemies or opposition.

•Rune Raidho ᚱ

Meaning: Wheel. Travel. Communication. Help in taking risks. Self-healing. Magical use: Changes. Protection. Transformation. Justice according to good. Safe and comfortable travel.

•Rune Wunjo ᚹ

Meaning: Joy. Comfort. Harmony. Security. Tranquility. Magical use: Triumph. Motivation. Recognition. Achievement of goal. Success in travel. Luck in love or work.

•Rune Berkana ᛒ

Meaning: Growth. Awakening. Rebirth. Development of creativity. Magical use: Healing. Wholeness. Clarity. Motherhood. Self-realization. Fertility. When seeing the runes presented we can relate them with Rust Cohle because they present several descriptive concepts that define him; but to my point of view, of those presented the rune more linked (and similar to his tattoo) is the rune Raidho.

Throughout the series we can see the entire journey Cohle goes through both through the Lange case that is presented to him, as well as his growth individually. His journey in general has been dangerous, putting him in a vulnerable state but never fully achieving it, having Rust in a cathartic state of progression where although the road was arduous, it always ends with him having a safe process of introspection. This path was just like a wheel where he repeated over and over again aspects of his life that he had already lived (Time is a flat circle) but thanks to communication these repetitive aspects had a significant change. The clearest example of this is his relationship with Marty Hart; in the series they had a partnership that while solid was undeniably chaotic. Marty did not want to listen to Rust and Cohle could not stop spouting his pessimistic ideology until the issue related to Maggie happened which made them separate. It wasn't until 2012 that Rust swallowed his depressing verbiage in order to talk to Marty and he, took his time to listen to Cohle and support him in his plan. Changing their relationship and the situation through communication. Precisely to this, both were able to give the due justice that the case deserved and finally Rust was able to be a little warmer with himself, finally accepting the past that haunted him and taking the first step to self-healing.

Of course, the Raidho rune and the symbol on Rust's chest are not the same because as I mentioned earlier, Cohle's tattoo is (probably) a composite symbol but the resemblance both physically of the rune and allegorically to the detective's ideology is something worth mentioning. Rustin Cohle's first step in understanding his pain and being able to allow himself to open up honestly and vulnerably with someone as he did with Marty was to be humble about his feelings. Humility was an important factor in this, as well as dealing humanely with his penance given by the past. These two issues are ideological characteristics given in the Christian symbol of the inverted cross of St. Peter. According to tradition, Peter asked to be crucified upside down because he did not consider himself worthy of dying in the same way as his master, Jesus of Nazareth. However, in other contexts the inverted cross is often used as a symbol of atheism, humanism and occultism. This is also notoriously seen in Rust's philosophy as we know that the belief in something greater than the human being which governs the commandments of humanity seems ridiculous to him. A simple stoic belief to alleviate the rottenness of reality. That is why perhaps that rune was transformed according to Rust's philosophy (which makes sense, Josh Lord does not do work without tying up loose ends; much less from the hand of Joji Fukunaga).

While we don't have an exact answer about the meaning of the tattoos of our endearing and cold-hearted detective, I like the idea of trying to unravel the hidden meanings among the symbols that physically characterize his personality, trying to investigate as logically and clearly as possible the probable exact representations of Rust's philosophy embodied in his skin. I believe that the series is so well designed that even the smallest details count and that's why I took the time to try to dig into the secrets of what Rust's tattoos want to tell us.

If you made it this far, thank you so much for taking the time to read this mini-essay! It was really fun to do, I think that while I'm not sure what his tattoos really mean; I was able to better understand Rust in different and meaningful ways. I hope someday we can know for sure what they mean (although part of me doesn't want to, because that would take the fun out of it). I'd really appreciate it if you could leave a like if you found it informative or entertaining, comment on what you thought, if you have any other theories of its possible meaning or reblog this mini-essay so more people interested in True Detective could see it! A kiss to whoever reads this and I hope the Yellow King never finds you! 💛

#true detective #true detective s1 #true detective season 1 #rust cohle #rustin cohle #marty hart #cohlehart #tattoos #inked #I feel like a shrimp writing this #imagine me as the shrimp from smiling friends lol #I LOVE YOU SO MUCH RUST COHLE #Every time I see his tattoos I become feral.

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