#about the scene altered my brain chem. this.

[wigglybunfish]

Handoff initiated.

[gaewaren]

I am very interested in disturbing/deranged rovinsky recs if u want to share 👀

yea ok i'll be insane on main why not however god did not put me on this earth to rec u porn with no good prose attached so

forgery of a forgery by @madmarsh if it feels like i've mentioned this one a dozen times already it's cause i have and i'll do it again

love, like a religion siken-esque

you can't keep wings a secret ronan dreams himself a pair of wings and it's all sorts of fucked up (...)

four weeks of halloween it's july so it's basically halloween innit by @robindrake93

where the shadow falls k character study

college au chem major extraordinaire joseph kavinsky my most beloved

so be it, i'm your crowbar by @selkielore ronan character study

backseat driving sex in the pig post crash gansey baby i'm soo so sorry

between the keeping and the kept it's second of july

i bet i stole you short and sweet

magnetic this masterpiece also i've talked about before that declan scene permanently altered my brain chemistry

all of these are m/e rated. mind the tags

if any authors i didn't tag are on here let me know x

[veryspecificporn]

The Future of Happiness -- Chapter 16

The past few days were a new flavor of insanity for Harry. After a few years of "joyful boredom," witnessing his best friend's suicide was the worst moment of Harry's life. He had pinged his Pharma Advisor who recommended he start drinking Numb Water, and in the past Harry would've been excited to take any and all mind-altering chems. But something had changed in him.

He needed to know why. Robin seemed almost like Fergus' death was "just some thing that happened." She didn't cry, and she hardly even brought him up in their pings. Harry, less of a cold-unfeeling robot, would never forget what he saw.

Harry let himself into Fergus' apartment. Fergus never told Harry his doorcode per se, but Fergus was predictable. 1-2-3-4. His code for everything. What Harry saw shocked him.

Fergus's living room was covered in papers, wall to wall. He had been one of the only people Harry had ever met that still used paper. For so long, his best friend had dug in his heels and refused to change. When technology changed, when society changed, Fergus mostly stood firm, resolute. Like a rock, enduring an emotionless and never-ending beating from the waves.

Each paper had names. Dates. Random words written in sharpie, underlined and circled again and again.

He saw Robin's name. And a line connecting it to a "Cyle." To Francis Moseman. And his name connected to Marlene Baxter. And the Secretary of Defense, alongside dozens of other names Harry had heard on the news at one time or another. The interwoven matrix of connections looked like the work of a top TV crime scene investigator. In a way, feeling Fergus' mind at work on the walls felt like he was still alive. His brain was a ceaseless wonder and it never stopped working, even after his suicide.

"I told you to stop working, you miserable bastard," Harry teased Fergus as if he was there. "But I guess I'm finishing this one. Not like I have anything better to do now that you're gone."

Harry pinged Robin.

"Hey Robin. I'm at Fergus' place."

He didn't expect her immediate response to be, "He's gone Harry, maybe it's time to let it go." But it was.

He felt anger take over.

"Well maybe you didn't give two fucks about him, but he was my best friend. Maybe fucks are the only thing you gave him, actually."

Robin's face looked pained and surprisingly, Harry felt instant regret. He recognized that look as one of guarded anguish. It was the same last look Fergus had given him.

"I'm sorry...that was too far. I--I'm struggling with the grief. I can't believe he didn't talk to me. To you. His death felt abrupt."

The look on her face devolved into tears.

She hadn't shown a speck of emotion in the short time they had known each other, so this felt worth pressing onwards. "What is it? Is there something you're not telling me?"

"There's a lot I'm not telling you. There are things I haven't told anyone except--"

"Except Fergus."

"Yes. I did like him, Harry. I liked him a lot. I have never met someone so genuine in my life. People aren't genuine. They all have an agenda, something they want. It's why we're in the situation we're in. Already powerful people want even more power over others. It's why the government has Francis Moseman and a team of hundreds working around the clock to create the perfect AI. One that can autonomously govern every part of our society flawlessly."

"The perfect AI?! Why would that make Fergus kill himself? I would love an AI to do all the things I don't want to do. That sounds like a dream. You're not making sense."

She stopped to cry again. Harry tried to put his hand on her shoulder. It felt weird touching her, but he was awkward in these situations.

"F-Fergus k-killed himself...because I drew him a roadmap, to where this was all going. Moseman only came to us because he found out the truth."

Harry walked over to a sheet of paper that had the following written down, crossed out, and replaced with new text:

"My first fears about this AI project were that we would atrophy as a species. And we will. Francis Moseman showed us all data showing that a certain percentage of the population, with nothing driving them forwards, will become complacent, depressed, and eventually disassociate -- which sounds bad enough. The fact that 8% of the test ants had died was concerning, until Francis told us how they would reset the test environments."

The note continued, "The programmer would override the AI and commit an environment refresh. The AI would purge the environment of the entire ant population, so we could start fresh. In a matter of seconds, a colony of 1,000 ants was reduced to dust by the AI. The system had the ability to analyze the test subjects, and instantly decide on the most efficacious way to get rid of the now-unwanted-ants before implementing the environmental changes. In this case, a simple nucleotide was introduced to the air and would get absorbed by the ants through their breathing spiracles before evaporating into dust."

Robin interrupted his reading, "We were against this project when it was just a threat to our progress as a species. But the more we've pulled on the string, the more this sweater has unraveled. The threat, is total. In the wrong hands, this power is absolute, world-ending power. It's in the wrongest hands imaginable."

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