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myssterioustranger.bsky.social
Myst
@myssterioustranger.bsky.social
110 followers 120 following 85 posts
🔞 | fic writer | conclave bellesco brainrot | smut, angst, horror
Ao3: mysterioustranger
Banner: @fourtwonine429
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myssterioustranger.bsky.social
gaudete et exultate (rejoice and be glad)
(post-) Conclave
unrequited Bellini/Lawrence angstfest
Title: gaudete et exultate Fandom: Conclave Summary: “Tell them to rejoice and be glad,” Emminencia Bellini says, his voice lukewarm. “Tell them that I call it, ah…a victory for progress over regression. I will celebrate this new chapter of history with prayers, and I suggest you do the same.” Thin smile, curt nod. Vestments as red as the Passion. Today, and for all the days to come, chronicles, journals, and memoirs will remember Cardinal Bellini as a faithful supporter of Pope Innocent XIV. Temperance, patience, wisdom, humility. What is reputation if not a vestment weaved with words? One that was weaved for him so keenly, without having to ask. Written and recited for him so easily, you’d mistake it for the truth. Today, a new Pontifice takes the throne. Aldo Bellini’s inner monologue—fretting and cynical at times—assures him that, across the world, the results have sparked as much outrage as celebration; both spreading as quick as scandal. Already now, assistants of the Curia’s Press Office swarm him in the halls of the Papal Palace, requesting for comment. A line for the Philosophical Quarterly? For the Global View? “Tell them to rejoice and be glad,” Emminencia Bellini says, his voice lukewarm. “Tell them that I call it, ah…a victory for progress over regression. I will celebrate this new chapter of history with prayers, and I suggest you do the same.”
February 23, 2025 at 6:10 PM
myssterioustranger.bsky.social
Let's have a conclave and cry over Aldo Bellini #wipwednesday
February 19, 2025 at 7:54 PM
myssterioustranger.bsky.social
Something tells me he'd take one for the team
February 18, 2025 at 12:02 PM
myssterioustranger.bsky.social
Blood & Stars
The Sakazuki backstory angstfest
archiveofourown.org/works/487958...
Title: Blood and Stars Fandom: One Piece Summary: Sakazuki was led to believe that he was destined to do one thing. But someone else stole his calling. Or, how Sakazuki and Borsalino joined the Marines. The news boils through the crowd. Echoes back at him, over and over. Voices that whisper, voices that stutter, voices surprised and elated. They swarm in the space around him. Chasing him. Talking. He needs to get away. A slam. Another. Stomp after stomp of his boots on dirt. The sticky summer atmosphere clings the pelt lining to his skin. This pressure is turning into a headache, the tension spreading down his nape, taut on his spine. A plateau at the edge of town. Grasping the railing, fists trembling around the damp iron, Sakazuki bends over and vomits into the shore. His sweat cools down. In the chilly wind, the next wave rolls in. Washing his sickness away. Whispering.  Sakazuki’s eyes roll up, up and towards the stars, a bright spill in the incoming evening.
February 7, 2025 at 10:57 PM
myssterioustranger.bsky.social
Malachite
My love letter to Borsalino x Lucci
archiveofourown.org/works/484929...
Title: Malachite Fandom: One Piece Summary: Preparing him for his future as a CP-0 agent, Stussy sends Lucci on a mission that closely concerns the Marine Admirals. In its course, he finds something unexpected. Have a nice time with your family, that was what Iceburg had told him. And Paulie, he’d palmed Lucci’s shoulder…then hesitated and hugged him instead, all of that sweaty bulk enveloping Lucci, sticking to him. It was a development, this familiarity. A shame that it took place just before Lucci’s absence, perhaps due to his absence. There was no question that Kaku would make good note of it, using Lucci’s time away to try surpassing him in their friendly competition for Mr. Iceburg’s secrets. The key concept being try. After pacing the length of the deck back and forth, Lucci settled for a spot inside the cabin, where he fed Hattori a few sunflower seeds. The world surrounding Water 7 was one of tourism, of masses looking into gigantic maps and refrigerated drinks for outrageous prices. But soon, Lucci’s route would branch out of that noisy mainline. From the windows, he watched the empty horizons ahead. As his mask adapted to its new state of vacation, whatever lay underneath was…strangely vacant. There were more ferries and boats, and soon the crowds around him started to recede; becoming lone travelers, then becoming nobody. Nobody—quite literally at the last commercial port he visited, where he slid inside a cargo ship and stowed away for hours, turning himself into another object in a box, unmoving and unbreathing. The lolling of the ship around him calmed his restlessness some.
January 6, 2025 at 8:24 PM
myssterioustranger.bsky.social
Where the Fig Tree Grows
Maybe yet the best of my Sakazuki x Aramaki exploits
archiveofourown.org/works/40622037
Title: Where the Fig Tree Grows Fandom: One Piece Summary: Aramaki has always struggled to control his strength, among other things he'd rather not think about. Right on cue, a loud discussion broke out among the flocks of officers behind them.  "Have you thought about the advantage of magma on land?!"  "Are you serious? You're talking about Akainu, who took on Whitebeard at Marineford alone, while Aokiji couldn't even beat a commander…" Aramaki grimaced. "Will you shut the fuck up?!" He could swear he'd heard the same damn conversation a million times. "See, I think this is a battle on even footing," Issho continued, low enough that Aramaki had to lean in to listen. "And that makes it…perhaps all the more unpredictable. It is the strength of conviction, and not physical strength, what will decide the winner." Aramaki knew without looking that Smoker and Hina were looking at them. Knew they were sweating cold.  "A fight between change in two opposed directions…a good ruler in times of peace might not be a good ruler in times of war. But do the times choose the leader, or is it the other way around?" Issho paused, took a sip of his tea. "What's your bet, Aramaki?"  "Rahaha! Tellin' you might jinx me." But he, despite what many others thought, was smart enough to follow what Issho meant. Nah, fate didn't have a war in store. It was the Navy who had to make war. Whatever interests the Government had, they had to be enforced through violence, because that was the only language spoken on the high seas. Yeah…the rumble of those fountains was like an open-armed greeting. Warmer than he remembered, though. Warm like Hell. And the ground was on fire.  The fucking ground was on fire! He snatched his glasses away from his face. The thick river of fire had swallowed the sand and boulders and even the plants! And it was swirling in circles around the little fig tree he'd left there. "Hey! You're burnin' my tree?!" He shouted, his cigarette dangling off, rage straining his voice. But one second later, the glow and the heat were gone. The garden grounds cooled back to sand, which looked white-green after so much red burning into his eyes. Then Aramaki noticed him. There, his fist buried in the sand. His broad shoulders glowing with sweat. His body absorbing the magma back in rivulets, which condensed into the tattooed flames. His black eyes pierced into Aramaki under his cap. And that was the first time Aramaki saw them up close, the scars. Half of his face had been bitten away by ice, and his ear was almost gone too. A war-mangled body.  Still, Aramaki laughed.  "Tis me, Fleet Admiral," and he invited himself to move closer, his fist tightening around the letter he still held, "and congrats on that, by the way."
January 6, 2025 at 8:24 PM
myssterioustranger.bsky.social
et in arcadia ego
my current ongoing project and baby (because Silas the unhinged monk deserves to be in a better book)
archiveofourown.org/works/580508...
Fic title: et in arcadia ego Fandom: The DaVinci Code Summary: In 1980s Spain, a broken, kind fugitive befriends a principled but purposeless young priest. Slow-burn rewrite of Silas & Father Aringarosa's story, featuring an ensemble cast of very amoral OCs. With illustrations by the wonderful Chiaki! The ghost has sunk into a restless sleep. In and out of this long dream, winter winds whistle through the mountains; an unforgiving pilgrimage on aching feet, on broken soles. Images light up and disappear like oils in a labyrinth. Faces, twisted and ugly, crushed under splitting stones; screams of confusion and anger mingling with alarm bells; distant city lights watching, then fading; the bark of guard dogs crazed in his pursuit. In this long night, the ghost has shed his body, his skin and muscle and bones. There’s only a hollow projection left. A grieving shadow, a scream turned whisper. Spasming back to consciousness…the ghost’s eyes open to a blurry room in the shade. The cold, the cold was cutting him from the inside out. But now… …blankets cling to his shape, soothing all of his tired, bony angles. Fending to their side, his hands find a bowl of water, which he drinks through cracked lips. And, again, the ghost relents to his dream. 
January 6, 2025 at 8:24 PM
myssterioustranger.bsky.social
Nobody has quite put my feelings about this instrument and the weird sexy little guy that makes noise with it so eloquently into words
Youtube comment reading: OK, so organs are ancient, unreasonably large, maddeningly complex Eldritch horror instruments and organists are their creepy plotting followers. Got it.
December 10, 2024 at 11:40 PM
myssterioustranger.bsky.social
Hey my #SakaAra fiends, I wrote a little something-something for @ophuezine.bsky.social featuring the colour GREEN and two emotionally stunted war criminals! Grab your copy at
pigmentofimagination.bigcartel.com #opzine
Leaves perk under the sun, budding and unfurling, crisp with life. They spill down the back of Aramaki's coat; they rise and fall with each breath, a controlled struggle. Sweat trickles on his forehead, green curls damp against dark skin, muscles quivering and hell-bent on retaining his position. Discipline and concentration have never been his forte, Sakazuki knows.
December 5, 2024 at 7:48 PM