#arthur la chimera

[diyasgarden]

could u write some Arthur (la chimera) x reader? <3

tw: mentions of blood, not proofread

“Stay still,” you murmur, slowly bringing the needle to his arm. He lets out a sharp exhale when you push it into his skin, feeling the heavy breath against your hair.

The open wound drips blood in a slow rhythm, mostly on his pants and your hands, slowly rolling onto the floor. It’s a large gash, bigger than any of the other wounds he’s had you treat. Enough so, that you even feel half tempted to ask him how it happened. Although it’s not like he’d tell you.

And regardless, you know the rumors.

Arthur’s breath remains labored, sharp inhales and exhales each time you move the needle against the cut. Huddled by the wound, your knee brushing his, you can feel the scrape of his stubble against your forehead as he looks to the side.

You sigh pulling back, holding the needle still and looking at the pained expression on his face. He turns back, and for a moment you each take the other in.

His eyes trace over the soft furrow of your brows and how the ends of your lip dip into a small frown. You jump from each mark of tiredness on his face: the slight red of his eyes, the dark circles, and lingering the air of exhaustion that circled him.

Mindlessly, he moves a bit forward, hand reaching for your knee. For stability he tells himself, trying to ignore what ever comfort the touch brings.

You tighten the hand holding his arm, and your gaze falls back to the wound. With a deep breath you push it through his skin once more, letting his breath blow against your hair.

note: his may be included in a larger fic in the future! more arthur works to come :)

[slushfaerie]

FREE THE ARTUR THIRST THOUGHTS!!!!!!

thank you for enabling me anon bby <33 i love thinking about this man

something that really makes me feel wild about Arthur as a character is how he shape shifts in different situations + with the different people he's around.

we see how grouchy he is when he's sick, the anger when he thought his artifacts were missing. his assimilation into the acts of graverobbing/general group rowdiness with the tombaroli, the way that softens with Italia, and of course, the tenderness of that ending scene that really helps paint a picture of why he's done what he's done all along.

all that to say, in my head, the word that comes to mind to describe Arthur as a lover is reverent.

he runs his hands over your body like you're something precious, forehead pressed to yours as he fucks you. he takes his time and wants you to feel all of him.

he cups your face with his hand, caressing your cheek with his thumbs with a tenderness that almost feels mismatched with the way he's taking you.

he loves it when you run a delicate hand through his hair and turns to kiss your palm when you caress his own cheek.

he pins you down under him, not even so much as a show of dominance, but as a means of keeping you as close as humanly possible. you can feel the scruff of his beard as he whispers or even groans into your ear.

he fucks as if he's afraid you'll disappear, when in reality, if someone were to be gone by morning, it would probably be him.

[atdnldson]

“ I’m sorry won’t bring anyone back “

warnings! - Gore | mentions of blood/guts! | 18+ | MDNI |

about? — the start of the apocalypse, you were alone, losing your good friends. You are saved by two men, who the hell are they? on a trip, you’re immediately met by a woman who seems almost like a damn warrior, finding your only friends during this crazy apocalypse.

challengers zombie apocalypse au!

you don’t even remember where it started, well you did but you didn’t know where to start when both men were staring at you, one brunette and one blonde, you were clearly in shock.

you meant to get words out when you opened your mouth but nothing came out, you just inhaled deeply. The blonde one raised an eyebrow before speaking softly. “Hey— hey, take your time alright? No rush here cause we’re safe.”

you nodded as you let out a shakily sigh, trying to calm yourself down from just seeing your friend eaten, “I— okay so it started when..”

flashback..

you laughed as you hit the volleyball back to your friend, just playing a quick game outside. It wasn’t your fault she was eaten, was it?—

you didn’t wanna blame yourself but maybe it was your fault..you heard a small gurgling behind you,you turned, just the bushes that were swaying in the wind, you raised an eyebrow but you quickly ignored it, hitting the volleyball back.

you noticed something walking behind her, moving fast towards your friend. You tried to tell her but why’d you freeze? why did you not say anything?— I mean it couldn’t have been a real zombie right?

you stared as it got reach of your friend, on the other side of the grass. You couldn’t look away as it pierced it’s teeth through your friends neck, she let out a scream, a scream that you just couldn’t get out of your head.

She yelled your name for help, immediately blood began to squirt out of the missing chunk on her neck, her scream just alerting more zombies. All surrounding her to feast, one even seeing you.

you quickly ran, leaving her because what could you even do? You saw them everywhere now, they stared at you as you ran, your footsteps making sound. You panicked as you ran past one who tried to grab you. Where were these things coming from? you didn’t see them this morning, why are they here now?

as you ran, you had no idea how but one got ahold of you. Immediately pulling you back, lining it’s teeth with your arm about to bite when someone shoved it off of you and began to stomp on its head, another person grabbing ahold of you.

you gasped as you watched the zombies brains get pushed out of it’s head, you closed your eyes and gagged into your own mouth, immediately you were dragged into some sort of..warehouse and that’s where you were now.

Present

“T—that’s what happened.” you murmured, the blonde nodded with understanding but the brunette. “So you didn’t save your friend because you were being pathetic?” he spoke, the blonde one immediately hit him, he winced

“what? is it that hard to tell your friend there was a fucking zombie behind her?” He continued before the blonde one came to your defense. “She didn’t know, how was she supposed to know it was an actual zombie?-“

“Right, because at least one person dresses like a zombie and roams around.” the brunette argued, the blonde one not exactly understanding, “the hell does that even mean?—“ he scoffed, the brunette just shook his head in annoyance.

“we haven’t even introduced ourselves and you already wanna start being an ass.” The blonde argued before turning back to you. “I’m art, that is Patrick.” He sighed, “I’m sorry about him.” He murmured and you nervously introduced yourself.

now you were stuck with these two guys who were complete strangers, what were you meant to do? you had no food and nothing you owned, I mean— what about your family? you needed to go see them.

After being there for hours, you tapped arts shoulder, he raised an eyebrow at you. Turning to you after speaking to patrick, you grabbed his shoulder roughly, he slightly winced. “I need to leave.” You spoke demandingly, Patrick let out a small laugh.

“Why’s that?” Patrick asked, you rolled your eyes. “My family, I need to go see if they’re okay.” He laughed once again, what was so fucking funny? you wondered in your head before he spoke, “well— we could go all the way over to where your little family lives and they could all be dead, all that work for what?” He spoke, art immediately slapped his arm.

“honestly— I doubt they’re introuble! Any shelter is good.” Art murmured with slight nervousness in his tone, you weren’t stupid, he was trying to make you feel better about the situation, your family could be dead.

“can we please— just go? actually, I’ll go alone.” you nodded as you got up, Patrick let out a tiny scoff as art immediately stood to stop you. “You can’t— you don’t remember that too almost just died? We saved you?” He huffed, Patrick nodded in agreement.

“So come with me.” You spoke, art let out a frustrated sigh as he looked at Patrick before he turned to you and nodded. “Fine— we’ll take you.” He sighed, Patrick immediately threw his hands up, he stood up and shook his head.

soon, you were walking inbetween them, all they had were shards of glass as weapons, what good could that do?

you walked quietly, you occasionally told them to shush but you didn’t even know why, they weren’t talking, turning a corner for a shortcut you knew, Patrick stepped on a branch, immediately a woman popped out of nowhere, grabbing Patrick and putting a knife to his throat, glaring at you and art.

you immediately shook your head and so did art, not knowing what to do, she continued to glare at you guys before speaking “who the fuck are you?..”, you cleared your throat..

you said your name and then introduced art, art waved awkwardly, she removed her knife and shoved Patrick away. “I’m tashi.” she murmured, you noticed how Patrick’s eyes sparkled when he saw her face, he grinned.

“well..heyy tashi, I’m Patrick.” He smiled, she ignored him and spoke to you..”what are you guys doing out here? weaponless especially.”, you spoke..”uh..well— I’m going to see if my families okay and then..we’re gonna get food.”

she nodded, “let me come with you guys, you probably have a better chance with me.”, you nodded with a smile because you needed the protection, Patrick nodded too only because..he found her out and art didn’t nod, he frowned since he wanted to be the tough one. How was a girl beating him?

as you all began to walk, you and tashi spoke, Patrick speaking to art. He murmured, “is she not hot?” He grinned, art shrugged, “I guess? I just don’t get how you find her hot, she just almost killed you.”, Patrick rolled his eyes. “That’s exactly why!”

tashi spoke to you, “so if your family is safe, what are you gonna do? I’m not sure either of those boys would let you bring ‘em all with them.”, you knew that was true and you nodded..”I guess I’d have to leave this group, I’m not sticking with total strangers over my family.” You murmured, she nodded

“I totally get that, I’d do the same thing.” She smiled at you, you nodded. You didn’t wanna ask but..”what about your family?”, she looked at you again, her smile wasn’t there this time. She spoke “uh..eaten.”

you frowned, “I’m sorry.” You sighed. She shrugged, “it’s alright, an I’m sorry isn’t bringing anyone back.” She joked and laughed though you didn’t laugh, how in the world was that funny?

you eventually arrived at your house, the windows broken..that made your heart drop. You sighed, art gently put a hand on your shoulder. He walked in with you and you were greeted with blood, everywhere. You walked to the kitchen with art

you immediately fell to the floor, you saw your little sister, torn apart on the ground. You sobbed as you saw your mother right next to her, as if trying to protect her. You were about to scream when art covered your mouth, he held it there and rubbed your back. Your sobs were muffled..

“Alright..alright, let’s get you out of here.” He murmured sweetly, you shook your head, you resisted as he tried to get you out of the house. You were trying to run to your sister and mom, you wanted one last hug from the girl you grew up with and argued with all your life and the woman who raised you both.

he called Patrick who helped grab you, you kicked and tried to get away though they successfully brought you outside. You sobbed

unfortunately you knew deep down there was nothing to do but live and keep going. You walked as art attempted to comfort you, you weren’t even listening to his sweet words.

when you guys arrived at a tiny store, you sniffled and rubbed your tired and red eyes, tashi walked to you and she muttered your name..”I’m sorry.” She nodded as if to say she meant it, you chuckled emotionlessly and spoke,

“an im sorry isn’t bringing anyone back.”

you laughed only because you were grieving still, you had no idea how to act now but she smiled at you, she wrapped her arm around you. “You’re a strong girl, truly.” She spoke. After you all collected your goods. You went back to the warehouse with a ton of feelings and someone new.

you sat in a circle, they all joked and laughed. Even in a situation like this you all still found a way to laugh and have fun.

you found your new friends.

[lvrrgirlll]

Help guys do I make the arthur from la chimera fic im working on angst or no? Can we handle that or…? Genuinely asking for advice here…

[allebasaemaia]

ℒ'𝒜𝓅𝓅ℯ𝓈ℴ

ˡ'ᵃᵖᵉˢˢᵒ ⋅ ᵒ ᵉⁿᶠᵒʳᶜᵃᵈᵒ | ᵃʳᵗʰᵘʳ ˣ ᶜʰᶦᵐᵉʳᵃ | ˡᵃ ᶜʰᶦᵐᵉʳᵃ ⁽²⁰²³ | ᵈᶦʳ. ᵃˡᶦᶜᵉ ʳᵒʰʳʷᵃᶜʰᵉʳ⁾

resumo: "[...] Se aproximou dela. Dela. Estátua decapitada, na sua frente, uma mulher com os cabelos longos tampando seu rosto, curvada para frente, pegando algo do altar onde vários vasinhos estavam. Apontou sua vela na direção dos braços da mulher, vendo que ao redor dos dedos havia aquele emaranhado da linha rubra que ele segurava, enquanto a mesma erguia a cabeça decepada da estátua em mãos, sussurrando orgulhosa? — La Dea! Uma Chimera! Deusa… Olhe, como é bonita! [...]"

notas da autora: asssiti "la chimera" após tanto ver anúncios no meu insta e até uma edit que me convenceu assistir o bendito filme, me apaixonei por todo o conceito e essa coisa meio dramática e fantástica, flertando com o surreal & o fantástico, então resolvi escrever uma fanfic meio surrealista também. deixo aqui gravado o meu amor pelas personagens do josh o'connor (arthur) e da carol prado (itália) no longa. simplesmente fantásticos! avisos: nada faz sentindo. ou faz. (!?), é bem experimental pra falar a verdade. contém sutis spoilers do filme, quem assistiu pegará as referências, por isso recomedo muito assistir o filme, vale muito a pena! algumas frases em italiano & inglês, porém as traduções foram colocadas no final (e também acho que pelo contexto da para pegar o que elas querem dizer :)

idioma: pt-br contagem de palavras: 2444 palavras playlist/música que escutei pra inspirar:

— Tu non sei fatto per gli occhi degli umani.

Ele seguiu a linha vermelha, aquele pedaço longo de lã tingido cor carmesim até onde a luz era muito ofuscante para seus olhos cansados. Segurava a cabeça da estátua molhada em um de seus braços, enquanto o outro seguia aquela linha que o puxava para fora do túnel que o enterrava. Suas roupas eram maltrapilhas; o branco de seu terno agora era sujo de terra e água lamacenta, seus cabelos e barba eram muito espessos, enquanto as unhas tinham uma camada grosseira de terra úmida por debaixo delas. Seu fedor de suor era antiquado. A linha vermelha o guiava como uma memória até o fim daquele buraco, seus olhos cansados se fechavam em piscadelas brutas para tentar aguentar a luz ofuscante. 

Piscou.

Quando abriu os olhos, estava em movimento constante. 

Estava dentro de um trem, cheio de gente esquisita olhando adormecido no seu canto contra a janela. Foi tudo um sonho. As visões esquisitas eram imaginárias, o mundo real o convidava a ser grosso com aqueles ao seu redor, carrancudo e disperso no seu italiano meia-boca que esboçava quando necessário. Pulou do trem quando o mesmo parou na estação, pô s nos lábios o cigarro longo o ascendendo com um isqueiro dourado com um relógio embutido que achou no seu bolso – não se lembrava de onde ele vinha, mas também não fez muita questão do detalhe, socando-o de volta ao lugar que o encontrou – caminhando com os ombros curvos, uma prostração lânguida do corpo magro, a passadas rápidas e olhares dispersos, para sua casa. Na mesma, entre o amontoado de poeira e coisas empilhadas, ele ficou sentado na cama, com um olhar distante em algum ponto, seguindo mentalmente a linha vermelha daquele sonho estranho. Ficou assim entre tosses secas, o cigarro que ascendia e os calafrios do corpo delgado até conseguir emergir nos sonhos que o acolheram com um abraço quente e molhado. 

— Arthur! A’qui! Arthur, ‘qui! 

— Sto già andando.

Estava com as barras da calça cinza molhadas, quando olhou para baixo percebeu estar com os pés debaixo d’água, uma água cristalina que quebrava em ondas tímidas contra seus tornozelos. Franziu o cenho. Olhou por cima do ombro – a noite era escura porém ao redor as luzes artificiais jogavam focos de luz em certos pontos, onde viu uma figurava emergir de um buraco do chão, montes de terra cavada formavam pequenos montes, enquanto seu braço erguia e balançava. Sua voz era doce como um melado de laranja, algo muito específico que lhe veio quando ela repetiu mais uma vez em um idioma esquisito à ele:

— Você não faz ideia do que há aqui embaixo! Vai te deixar de queixo caído!

— What!? Che cosa!? — Indagou se virando para ela, colocando as mãos na cintura tentando ainda assimilar quem era ela. Que coisa estranha; pensava enquanto seguia uma linha vermelha imaginária até ela, acendendo o monte de terra projetando uma sombra contra a mulher daquela voz-de-laranja, sentindo um cheiro de mármore com chocolate quente emanando dela, vendo entre a sombra seus olhos brilhando feito dois diamantes para ele. Novamente, sua voz lhe respondeu, naquela língua esquisita que ele não entendia:

— Só venha. — Estendeu uma mão. Ele respirou fundo, vendo a mão erguer sobre um facho de luz, observando que enrolado em seus dedos, um emaranhado de linhas vermelhas. Arthur sorriu, estendeu sua mão aceitando-a.

Era gelada e áspera como erupções em um mármore entalhado. Uma pedra entalhada. Uma estátua.

Abriu os olhos, acordando daquele sonho esquisito. 

— Dio, mi serve una bevanda alcolica, urgentemente.

Sussurrou contra o travesseiro, contrariado com sua má sorte. 

Se arrumou como se fosse sair para dançar naquela noite: cortou o excesso de cabelo, deixando-o mais baixo possível, aparou a barba, se lavou e pôs roupas limpas: uma blusa de algodão aberta, uma bermuda com bolsos o suficiente para enfiar o maço de cigarro, o isqueiro, algumas outras coisas se quisesse. Nos pés, o par de botas sujas, inseparáveis de suas composições de traje, estavam presentes – agora limpas da lama seca. Saiu do seu casebre, fumando, indo caminhar pelos arredores da cidade que chamava de um lar que o acolheu, era estrangeiro por aqueles fins de mundo, tentando se comunicar com um italiano arranhado. Foi visitar sua velha amiga Flora, que o recebeu com um sorriso de orelha a orelha, encolhida na sua cadeira de rodas que julgava ser “uma verdadeira invenção humana fantástica!”, com sua roupa completamente preta e cabelos brancos, ela divertidamente ficava anunciando entre um inglês e italiano melancólico para as paredes de gesso rachado do seu casarão:

— Il mio vero amico è qui! My true friend is here! 

Arthur corava, pedia para que ela parasse, olhava cabisbaixo para os pés, contornando com as unhas os traçados dos bordados do pano de mesa, pensativo. Se levantou repentinamente, se curvou para sua velha amiga, agradeceu seus gracejos e o café gelado servido por sua mais nova pupila – uma serva desajeitada que estava sob seus cuidados, ou melhor, que cuidava dela – com sorrisos nervosos, saindo daquela casa a passadas longas.

Lembrava vagamente das frases esporádicas que Flora soltou:

— Eu sinto falta dela sabe? É uma coisa que nós acabamos tendo que nos acostumarmos, porém... Quando será que ela volta? Tu sabes me dizer, Arthur? Me lo puoi dire, Arthur!? 

Arthur queria fugir. 

Saiu caminhando pela vasta floresta, os montes de terra úmida, a grama verde e as folhas secas o chamando em uma estranha voz sussurrada, o deixando letárgico a cada momento que se aproximava de algo que tinha valor. Diziam, sua gangue, que era um dom, um presente – un dono, un dono divino!, escutara isso tantas vezes enquanto projetava um graveto entre mãos para frente e sentia na sua alma um chamado subterrâneo. Uma pulsação vinda das tumbas que arrombava, surrupiava seus bens fúnebres, fazia um bom montante de dinheiro. E o ciclo se repetia. Imaginava seguir a linha vermelha, via entre feixes de suas memórias os dedos com as linhas emaranhadas, ouvia ao fundo a voz sabor laranja e sentia o cheiro úmido de pedra molhada com chocolate quente. De repente parou, ficou ali, parado, com os pés no chão e a cabeça nas nuvens, assimilando tudo aquilo que o consumia, labaredas de um calor o fazendo suar, sua visão ficar turva e sua gravidade ser puxada com tudo no chão.

Piscou os olhos.

Quando os abriu, estava diante uma vala aberta onde havia uma abertura para uma tumba subterrânea. Estava anoitecendo, estava com as canelas molhadas apesar de estar seco. Olhou para baixo, onde uma linha vermelha estava entre seus pés. Se agachou lentamente, pegou-a entre os dedos, sentindo sua maciez no tato. Riu, curioso. Olhou para frente, vendo que a mesma o conduzia para dentro da tumba. Desceu, no portal aberto acendeu uma vela que levava consigo sempre, com aquele isqueiro dourado, iluminando o que tinha pela frente, atravessando um corredor quase claustrofóbico de terra úmida e fresca, chegando em um enorme cômodo, cheio de afrescos de deuses e animais na parede. Uma água parada batia na altura de suas canelas. Havia um outro anexo, onde uma luz chamou sua atenção. 

Se aproximou dela.

Dela.

Estátua decapitada, na sua frente, uma mulher com os cabelos longos tampando seu rosto, curvada para frente, pegando algo do altar onde vários vasinhos estavam. Apontou sua vela na direção dos braços da mulher, vendo que ao redor dos dedos havia aquele emaranhado da linha rubra que ele segurava, enquanto a mesma erguia a cabeça decepada da estátua em mãos, sussurrando orgulhosa?

— La Dea! Uma Chimera! Deusa… Olhe, como é bonita!

Seus olhos finalmente puderam erguer e enxergá-la sobre a tímida luz de sua vela; tinha um belíssimo rosto, olhos brilhantes como diamantes, dentes leitosos ornamentando lábios rosados, um nariz pitoresco romano, com a ponte quebrada e a ponta fina, um ar entre leão e serpente antropomorfos como uma deusa. Arthur sentiu o coração estremecer em seu peito, uma dor aguda, uma tosse seca que apagou sua vela. Ela riu na sua língua estranha, seus olhos continuavam a brilhar. Rindo, a mulher fez uma luz surgir entre seus dedos voltando ascender o pavio da sua vela apagada. Ergueu a cabeça para ele:

— Aqui, toma. Prendilo. E' tuo. Tua. Pegue. — Erguia a cabeça que o olhava com seus olhos profundos talhados em uma avidez quase cegante. Arthur obedeceu, pegando a cabeça decepada em suas mãos molhadas. Ergueu seu olhar para a estranha, repetiu:

— Who are you? — Silêncio. Voltou a tentar: — Tu chi sei?

Ela não lhe respondia quem diabos ela era. Apenas sorria com seus dentes amendoados, os olhos ladrilhando. Sua voz o enfeitiçou:

— Veja, como é bela! Ela está à sua espera. Veja… Você não vê nossas linhas vermelhas? — De repente sua expressão mudou, uma tempestade entre suas sobrancelhas, o brilho de joias eram agora raios, enquanto a água se tornava caótica ao redor deles. Arthur tentou agarrar a cabeça, porém ela escorregou caindo na água que subia, olhou para suas mãos vendo que seus dedos agora eram um emaranhado de linhas vermelhas – assim como ela. Seu mundo girou de cabeça para baixo, a água envolvia seu tornozelo, enquanto as linhas vermelhas pareciam ter um peso em seus pulsos, como cordas que atam.

Ouviu pela primeira vez o que ela lhe dizia no seu idioma estranho:

— Ela é linda demais para os olhos humanos. Você concorda comigo. 

Fechou os olhos quando tudo era água.

E os abriu quando sentia o ar fresco acariciar seu rosto. Esfregou os olhos, olhando com languidez a janela do trem, vendo uma fitinha vermelha solta no cantinho do frame, dançando contra o ar, enquanto o trem seguia seu rumo. Respirou fundo, estava deitado no assento, suas roupas não eram uma das melhores. Lembrou do rosto da Chimera, da Deusa. Os olhos de diamante, os dentes leitosos, os cabelos compridos, sua voz sabor laranja e o cheiro da pedra molhada com chocolate quente. Sorriu nostálgico. Enfiou a mão no seu bolso, sentindo algo fino roçar seus dedos, puxou do buraco uma linha em lã rubra, que julgou ser do casaco de lã que vestia – porém ao olhar para si mesmo, percebeu estar vestido em seu terno cinzento puído. Com a outra mão, enrolou o fio em seu dedo anelar da mão esquerda, deu um nó na ponta, vendo com curiosidade seu novo anel. 

Pulou do trem, mais uma vez, colocou um cigarro nos lábios e caminhou sem rumo fumando. 

Já era noite, ele estava em uma festinha local onde as pessoas dançavam alegremente e cantavam. Sua trupe de ladrões de tumbas estava presente, os homens fazendo uma coreografia patética enquanto Fabiana e ele estavam sentados numa mesinha de plástico, bebendo um coquetel azulado com sabor de menta açucarado. Seus olhos vasculharam todos os cantos daquele lugar, até se esbarrar com um par de diamantes que o fez aquiescer-se, se levantar e caminhar com as pernas cruzadas, meio bambas, até ela. Ela. Chimera. Deusa.

Riu sentindo-se bêbado de torpor, alegria inquietante, olhando-a como se observasse a obra de arte mais magnífica do mundo todo. Falou no seu italiano enrolado:

— Voi! Voi! Ricordati di me? — Você, se recorda de mim?; Sim, é claro! Você vem me assombrando nos meus sonhos. E cadê a sua linha vermelha?; Está aqui!; ele ensaiou a frase inteira na sua mente, antes de escutá-la falar em um italiano perfeito misturado a um inglês polido:

— Come posso dimenticare la tua linea rossa che si collega a me? English man. You're one of those archaeologists, right? — Arthur abriu um sorriso sincero engolindo o suco de laranjas que seu hálito lhe cheirava, a frase entrando em sua mente suavemente; “Como me esquecer da sua linha vermelha que se conecta a mim? Homem inglês. Você é um desses arqueólogos, certo?!”. Certo. Arthur então ergueu sua mão canhota expondo o anelar com seu anel rubro enrolado e amarrado. A mulher sorriu, passou o dedo no seu anel, curiosa:

— Che bello! Belo! Era disso que estava falando para você esse tempo todo, meu Arthur! — Sorria. Muito bela. 

— Come ti chiami? Qual o seu nome? — Arthur repetiu, apressado, levando a mão destra até o rosto dela que aninhou-se na sua palma. Sua pele parecia um mármore liso, estava gelada pelo sereno daquela noite fresca e úmida de verão, seus lábios pareciam tão brilhantes:

— Me chama de Chimera. 

— Chimera. Chimera… Chimera! — Quase gritou, segurando sua face em suas mãos, quase pulando de alegria, trazendo-a contra seu peito, todo risonho e feliz demais com o mundo todo. Era como se naquele túnel em que era guiado pela linha vermelha, ele conseguisse sentir o calor confortável da luz que cega sua visão. Chimera riu também, se aproximou dele com os grandes diamantes lapidados de seus olhos, muito convicta seus lábios dançaram na frase simples:

— Baciami. Amore mio. Beija os meus lábios. 

Arthur esboçou um fraco sim, antes de sentir os lábios dela contra os seus. Eram doces e rígidos feitos lábios esculpidos em uma pedra. Chimera ria, suas mãos geladas em carne tão suave afagavam seus cabelos, sua barba, seus olhos, seu nariz. Agarrou seu pescoço, enraizou os dedos entre os cabelos da sua nuca, arrepios e tremeliques o guiaram naquele beijo de língua sabor menta com laranja. Cheiro de pedra molhada com o chocolate quente. Quando se deu conta, estava sendo guiado para dentro de um casarão com janelas altas, afrescos nas paredes com deusas e animais antropomorfos, vasos esculpidos, cerâmicas empilhadas, livros de capa dura espalhados no chão, mantas enroscadas em móveis. Seu corpo delgado estava exposto, enquanto sua pele sentia a quentura dela, esculpindo entre a ponta de seus dedos suas ondas, como se o próprio conseguisse transformar ela na estátua dos seus sonhos. A cada investida contra ela, engolido por sua maciez, prazer molhado, gemidos sussurrados, era como se o mesmo matelasse contra a pedra lisa, esculpindo uma deusa a ser adorada. A linha vermelha parecia enrolar neles. Chimera soltou um longo e arrastado gemido, fechou os olhos por cima dele, abriu-os, estavam em chamas, encarando o homem com um charme irresistível. 

— Arthur. Arthur!

Ele piscou mais uma vez, ofuscado pela sua beleza.

Quando abriu os olhos, estava diante aquela estátua sem cabeça. Olhou para suas mãos, meio zonzo, letárgico, quase melancólico. Esboçou um sorrisinho tímido, observou onde estava: era um barco que ondulava, atrás dele olhares curiosos da sua gangue e de Spartaco enquanto tentavam convencer entre o preço ou a cabeça. A bendita cabeça. Arthur viu despontar do seu anelar o fio vermelho enrolado no seu dedo. Depois olhou para a cabeça da estátua. 

Chimera. Deusa. Fio vermelho. 

Nada daquilo fazia sentido nenhum. 

— Arthur!

Gritaram. Ele sussurrou acariciando o rosto petrificado da deusa:

— Você não foi feita para os olhos humanos.

𓃭 Traduções:

— Tu non sei fatto per gli occhi degli umani. | "Você não foi feita para os olhos humanos." — Sto già andando. |"Estou chegando." — What!? Che cosa!? | "O quê!?" (x2) — Dio, mi serve una bevanda alcolica, urgentemente. | "Meu Deus, preciso de uma bebida alcoólica, urgentemente." — Il mio vero amico è qui! My true friend is here! | "Meu melhor amigo está aqui!" (x2) [...] Me lo puoi dire, Arthur!? | "Você pode me dizer, Arthur!?" [...] un dono, un dono divino [...] | 'um dom, um dom divino.' — La Dea! [...] | "A Deusa!" [...] Prendilo. E' tuo. [...] |"Pegue. É sua." — Who are you? [...] Tu chi sei? | "Quem é você?" (x2) — Voi! Voi! Ricordati di me? | "Você! Você! Lembre de mim?" — Come posso dimenticare la tua linea rossa che si collega a me? English man. You're one of those archaeologists, right? | "Como posso esquecer sua linha vermelha conectando-se a mim? Homem inglês. Você é um desses arqueólogos, certo?" — Baciami. Amore mio. | "Beija-me. Meu amor."

[arluna]

One of my favs. La Chimera has my entire heart, no crumbs left ❤️

[gabriestat]

la chimera (2023) dir. alice rohrwacher / orpheus & eurydice throughout art

[newrochellechallenger2019]

300 followers celebration!!!

omg i just hit 300 followers!!! thank you so so much, i'm in tears right now, i know i'm probably one of the smaller blogs on here but i honestly never thought i'd have so many people interested in what i have to say about a movie that came out a year ago, especially when i've only been here less than a year!!! sorry for the ramble, but i want to say thank you to all my lovely mutuals for being so sweet and supportive and i've honestly had some of my best times chatting with you guys <33 ugh i love challengersblr <33

anyway, to celebrate this momentuous occasion, i'm doing a writing game! this is inspired by @voidsuites, @leftoverghosts and so many more users who do these album inspired posts/ask games!!

'but merry? how do you play?' what a great question that i can definitely hear you all asking...

roll your dice and pick three things: a song, a character and a genre!

the album: stick season (forever) by noah kahan

northern attitude

stick season

all my love

she calls me back

come over

new perspective

everywhere, everything

orange juice

strawberry wine

growing sideways

halloween

homesick

still

the view between villages

your needs, my needs

dial drunk

paul revere

no complaints

call your mom

you're gonna go far

forever

characters i write for:

art donaldson

patrick zweig

tashi duncan

riff lorton

dodge mason

connor murphy

arthur (la chimera)

genre:

smut

fluff

angst

[diyasgarden]

my next two craft ideas:

1) turning an old altoids case into a little wallet for trinkets

2) making character/celebrity bookmarks

[capyclara]

you were not meant for human eyes.

la chimera (2024) (dir. alice rohrwacher)

[amymbona]

It's really funny to me

[slushfaerie]

“he runs his hands over your body like you're something precious, forehead pressed to yours as he fucks you. he takes his time and wants you to feel all of him.”

do you want me to die???

don't die anon i love u. arthur makes me lose my mind, forgive me

[atdnldson]

DECODE

pairings - punk!patrick x punk!reader

warnings! - none! ( I don’t think so..lol)

about? - your boyfriend Patrick, both of you being made fun of because of how you dressed + acted, you dated for a while until he hung out with the wrong group. how did you get here? You used to know him so well!

you met Patrick during your freshman year and you guys were now seniors, you met him when you were still trying to find yourself. He was confident in himself though, dressing with all black, his hair spikey in some areas, some areas flat but you took inspiration from him, you loved his confidence and style.

and now here you were, matching with the same style. He didn’t do the spikes anymore but you sure did miss them. You guys were sometimes made fun of but you had friends.

Patrick had his own share of friends and you had yours, you knew his were complete assholes.

you never noticed that Patrick had his own stash, occasionally selling and it came as a shocker that he sold to the jocks. He admitted after you confronted him about hanging out with them, the same folks who made fun of you.

he knew you were upset but he told you it was a good reason and he got good money to buy himself and you things, “look babe, this is for the money. I give them what the want and I get cash. It’s for good reason.”

you let it be because what could you even do about that? you noticed the more he hung out with them. The more he distanced himself from you, ignoring you even.

you bought tickets to a small garage bands concert, you always supported groups no matter how big they were and Patrick often went with you but when you asked him, he was sitting with those guys again.

he looked right at you and laughed, “uh..probably not.” He shrugged, you were honestly surprised, he usually got upset that you’d go without him. You raised an eyebrow..”are you sure?” He nodded and looked back at his ‘friends’

you just ended up going with another friend but it wasn’t the same.

one day, Patrick had finally approached you and took you to a small corner of the hallway. He huffed and looked down at his feet, his hands in his pockets. You thought he finally was gonna apologize.

you watched as he anxiously looked around and rubbed his face with a sigh, “hey— look, you’re a sweet girl and all but our relationship? Not working out yknow? Feels like you’re better off as a friend.” He smiled politely, you stared at him with wide eyes.

“our relationship? Not working out?” You murmured before snapping, “the only reason it’s not working is because of you, you hanging out with those weirdos that really aren’t your friends. You look pathetic and they’re just gonna embarrass you. Don’t come to me when they do.”, he just stared at you.

He rubbed his face once again and shook his head, “right and you’re not just saying that because I’m becoming what you’ve always wanted to be. You’re mad you’re stuck in the damn shadows.” He spoke before walking away, not giving you a chance to talk.

you just huffed and when you got home, you immediately sobbed in your room. How did you guys even get here? you used too know him so well.

after weeks of not speaking to him, you heard around how he’d been sleeping with a ton of girls. It made you cringe because he would never do that.

but you could now see what kind of man he was, if he was a man at all.

you went with your friends to a party being hosted by some chick you knew. Your outfit not doing you any favors with covering your skin.

immediately it got so crowded, you had to step out since it was getting too much. Outside you quickly spotted some yelling.

some guy yelling, ‘fight! fight! fight!’. attracting everyone from inside. They all ran out, you standing by the door way, were now on the floor due to everyone shoving you.

you immediately got up and shoved people to get to the front of the crowed, circling two people who were clearly about to fight. You looked at them and of course.

Patrick and a jock, a guy who you didn’t even know the name of. Patrick throwing a punch and embarrassingly missing, everyone holding phones up.

you winced before you made eye contact with him, you distracted him. He took a hard punch by the jock who was like two times bigger than him. You gasped as he fell to the floor.

you didn’t wanna be the party pooper but you cared too much about that boy, you quickly ran off..calling the cops in the process, you complained about noise.

you quickly ran back and when they arrived, everyone ran for it. You ran for Patrick, helping him up. He groaned your name.

you winced at his bloody face, you sighed as you took him into your friends car, your friend entering with speed. She looked back at him. She scoffed, “the fuck is he doing in here?”

you cleared your throat as you guys sped off quickly, “I just— he’s hurt! I’m helping!” your friend laughed right in your face, “helping? I thought he was unforgivable because of what he did to you, why are you helping him now?!”

you didn’t even know yourself, you got dropped off at your home after that crazy time. You helped Patrick out your friends car, your parents were aware of Patrick, they knew he was your boyfriend, he was truly a sweet boy— well..*was*

you guided him to your bathroom, he groaned your name once again, “fuckkk, it hurts.” He murmured, his eyes half-lidded. You shook your head, “you got your ass beat, obviously it’s gonna hurt.”

you gently tended to his wounds, he mumbled out a lazy, “why are you helping me?” You sighed, “obviously I care about you, you humiliated yourself infront of everyone.”

he shook his head and chuckled, “I’m such a dumbass..”. You couldn’t help but laugh, “you are.”

he stopped smiling and stared at you when you were finished, he was quiet as you put everything away. He murmured softly, “I’m sorry.”

you looked at him, your face softening. You smiled, “it’s okay.” It was crazy how fast you forgave him and he was even surprised. His eyes widening, he grabbed your hands. “I’m serious, I’m sorry. I treated you so bad but— I love you, you know? You’re my girl and you always will be.” He muttered sweetly.

the night ended off with you two cuddling, occasional forehead pecks from him, back rubs and just love.

well now you know, he’s truly a man!

taglist … @lovepaleandying

[lvrrgirlll]

anyways, arthur la chimera fic is underway and I’m not hating where it’s going so far (yippee!) I probably won’t be super active today because I have a gala for this charity I’m involved in and then the after party, so hopefully fic finished/posted sometime tomorrow 🫡

[anyplaceisparadise]

"Were you dreaming?"

(La Chimera, 2023. Directed by Alice Rohrwacher)

Photos from imdb and pinterest

[sunjoys]

i need to grow my collection