#mitch writes

[cyberneticnightmares]

You will never guess what just dropped on AO3.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

I hope you like some classic lovecraftian horror with your stobotnik.

[jefferoni-quotes]

i love writing nonsense poetry :)

[WIP]

[arsonist-arcade]

phanfiction? in 2021? it’s more likely than you think.

this is my first fanfic in months, it’s been so long. and so it’s a little drabble-y and kinda short, but i hope yall likey:)

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[ilyism]

SOMETHING IN THE WATER - written by me

—

On the morning of 10/13/17 at 6:30 the Nevada City Police department was alerted by an anonymous source that there was a suspicious figure in the woods, appearing to be deceased.

Officers Bradford and O'Malley arrived at the scene at 8:07 to investigate. There they confirmed the body of a teenaged brunette male who was approximately 5'6" in height. No foul play was found by the officers. The body was brought back to the station and was confirmed to be 16 year old Sawyer Bonnet by Louis Bonnet.

The following characters were interviewed in relation to Sawyer Bonnet's death: Trevor Alamony, Ivy Parkinson, Sonny Reyes, Moriah Lockhart, Rhea Jin-Martyr, and Adara Brasel. All characters interviewed were absent from classes on the day that Sawyer Bonnet allegedly died on.

Sources later confirmed that Sawyer died of drowning at approximately 11:58 10/12/17 with no foul play involved. Those interviewed were let out of custody and resumed their daily activities.

—

CHAPTER ONE OUT NOW! more to come

[cyberneticnightmares]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Sister Cain once held one of the first of Robotnik’s creations to his nose, demanding answers to why he was wasting valuable time and limited resources crafting dolls. He had explained, calmly, that it was not a doll, but a robot. He explained that he had made it out of discarded scraps, that it was only a shell since circuitry was expensive and hard to come by. He had told her that one day he hoped to make it move, speak, even think. The nun had shaken her head, told him that he was neither God nor woman, therefore the creation of life was not part of his divine purpose. She had told him, while curiously inspecting the glued together aluminum, that he was merely meant for destruction. Professor Hynek at Ohio State, an eccentric man with a peculiar intersection of academic interests, had looked at Robotnik with the same curious expression Sister Cain held towards that primitive prototype. He had said, with the kindest wonder in his eyes: “We are all creators when pieces of ourselves are embedded in our craft.” For decades Robotnik has tried to sell the ruse of a detached genius, a madman in search of complete control over things lesser than him. The uncaring overseer of the masses, the deliverer of power to those desperate to pay any price for his machines. While neither of these is untrue, Robotnik is anything but detached. He feels pride in his work and honor in his ambition, he adores every project conceived by thought and birthed into physical existence. And, above all, he has not lost that brilliantly violent spark of wonder.

Chapters 10 & 11 of The Architect are now live!

[cyberneticnightmares]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

rated E for explicit sexual content / full tags on AO3.

William might need three six packs to loosen his tongue, but all Henry needs is for his brain to muster a thought. "Bonnie should have been the singer of the duo. You could record your own tracks, top the charts. Can you imagine a Christmas album with Aerosmith?" "No." "You kind of look like Mick Jagger already, if he were the kind of musician to wear suits all the time. Only," Henry grabs William's face with one hand, squeezing his cheeks until he resembles a fish, "your lips are much thinner than his." He glides a thumb along the bottom lip, eyes absently tracking the movement. William sighs but offers Henry a gracious smile. "You're confusing Mick Jagger and Steven Tyler. The latter is American." "You would know that." "Everyone who listens to the radio knows that, Henry." William leans forward and presses a kiss to Henry's temple, making him laugh. "I'm about as musically inclined as my father was to raising me. Which is to say, not one fucking bit."

Fic in which Henry and William have a day off and reminisce about a Halloween party that happened a decade prior. (The same party where Henry might have probably developed a crush on his friend because William looked really really good in those leather pants.)

read all 3.5k words on AO3!

[cyberneticnightmares]

Equipped with a flashlight, the lack of windows in the building denying entry to the early evening sunlight, Ricky makes straight for William's office and hits the breaker. He only switches three fuses: the back office, parts and service, and the security office. Conserving energy is the name of the game if his hunch is to be trusted. The copied system patches first appeared to be nonsensical, all of them pieces of a puzzle whose sides were similar but incohesive, despite some of their edges slotting seamlessly into place. It bothered him enough to get him on the line with an old classmate, offering her a watered down excerpt of the ongoing project, and requesting any sort theories she might have. She didn't ask for further clarification, simply stating that the matrices were built out of outdated code—and that it ought to be purged immediately. When pressed for a reason, she kindly asked him to never contact her again. The exchange had put Ricky off, but not as much as the screen in front of him when he booted up the half-patched program. It had changed, ever so slightly, in a direction that was nothing but a data gap. The program had broken established instructions.

Ricky comes face to face with some seriously uncanny tech, and pays for it dearly. (That is NOT what the animatronic repair bench is for, but here we are.)

Chapter 18 of Driving Through Tunnels is now up on AO3!

[cyberneticnightmares]

Love Grows (Where My Henry Goes) - a Willry fic.

Later that night— The bar has not changed in the ten years William has lived in Hurricane. It's where he met Henry back in '73, where Henry's girl ragged on him for being 'weird', where rumors are planted with the help of alcohol and nosy locals. While standing in front of the same jukebox that has never failed to play his favorite song, William reminisces on the choices and the consequences that have brought him here: scars aching, cigarette tasteless, and the blood under his fingernails oxidizing. It's only a matter of time before Henry calls, asking about his daughter.

3k words; Rated M for brief sexual content and heavily implied child death. (For the love of everything unholy, check out the full list of tags on AO3)

Have some extremely toxic old man yaoi over on AO3.