#life science sector

[sollers-college]

Artificial intelligence is an important advancement. But there are also ways to improve productivity. You can use rules and data integration. You can also leverage human thought processes....For more visit: Sollers College

[pharmaconnections01]

Life science Professionals - Pharma Connections

Connect with top-tier life science professionals in the pharmaceutical sector. Our platform bridges the gap between talented individuals and impactful opportunities in the dynamic life sciences industry. Join now

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Ad-tech targeting is an existential threat

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me TORONTO on SUNDAY (Feb 23) at Another Story Books, and in NYC on WEDNESDAY (26 Feb) with JOHN HODGMAN. More tour dates here.

The commercial surveillance industry is almost totally unregulated. Data brokers, ad-tech, and everyone in between – they harvest, store, analyze, sell and rent every intimate, sensitive, potentially compromising fact about your life.

Late last year, I testified at a Consumer Finance Protection Bureau hearing about a proposed new rule to kill off data brokers, who are the lynchpin of the industry:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/16/the-second-best-time-is-now/#the-point-of-a-system-is-what-it-does

The other witnesses were fascinating – and chilling, There was a lawyer from the AARP who explained how data-brokers would let you target ads to categories like "seniors with dementia." Then there was someone from the Pentagon, discussing how anyone could do an ad-buy targeting "people enlisted in the armed forces who have gambling problems." Sure, I thought, and you don't even need these explicit categories: if you served an ad to "people 25-40 with Ivy League/Big Ten law or political science degrees within 5 miles of Congress," you could serve an ad with a malicious payload to every Congressional staffer.

Now, that's just the data brokers. The real action is in ad-tech, a sector dominated by two giant companies, Meta and Google. These companies claim that they are better than the unregulated data-broker cowboys at the bottom of the food-chain. They say they're responsible wielders of unregulated monopoly surveillance power. Reader, they are not.

Meta has been repeatedly caught offering ad-targeting like "depressed teenagers" (great for your next incel recruiting drive):

https://www.technologyreview.com/2017/05/01/105987/is-facebook-targeting-ads-at-sad-teens/

And Google? They just keep on getting caught with both hands in the creepy commercial surveillance cookie-jar. Today, Wired's Dell Cameron and Dhruv Mehrotra report on a way to use Google to target people with chronic illnesses, people in financial distress, and national security "decision makers":

https://www.wired.com/story/google-dv360-banned-audience-segments-national-security/

Google doesn't offer these categories itself, they just allow data-brokers to assemble them and offer them for sale via Google. Just as it's possible to generate a target of "Congressional staffers" by using location and education data, it's possible to target people with chronic illnesses based on things like whether they regularly travel to clinics that treat HIV, asthma, chronic pain, etc.

Google claims that this violates their policies, and that they have best-of-breed technical measures to prevent this from happening, but when Wired asked how this data-broker was able to sell these audiences – including people in menopause, or with "chronic pain, fibromyalgia, psoriasis, arthritis, high cholesterol, and hypertension" – Google did not reply.

The data broker in the report also sold access to people based on which medications they took (including Ambien), people who abuse opioids or are recovering from opioid addiction, people with endocrine disorders, and "contractors with access to restricted US defense-related technologies."

It's easy to see how these categories could enable blackmail, spear-phishing, scams, malvertising, and many other crimes that threaten individuals, groups, and the nation as a whole. The US Office of Naval Intelligence has already published details of how "anonymous" people targeted by ads can be identified:

https://www.odni.gov/files/ODNI/documents/assessments/ODNI-Declassified-Report-on-CAI-January2022.pdf

The most amazing part is how the 33,000 targeting segments came to public light: an activist just pretended to be an ad buyer, and the data-broker sent him the whole package, no questions asked. Johnny Ryan is a brilliant Irish privacy activist with the Irish Council for Civil Liberties. He created a fake data analytics website for a company that wasn't registered anywhere, then sent out a sales query to a brokerage (the brokerage isn't identified in the piece, to prevent bad actors from using it to attack targeted categories of people).

Foreign states, including China – a favorite boogeyman of the US national security establishment – can buy Google's data and target users based on Google ad-tech stack. In the past, Chinese spies have used malvertising – serving targeted ads loaded with malware – to attack their adversaries. Chinese firms spend billions every year to target ads to Americans:

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/03/06/business/google-meta-temu-shein.html

Google and Meta have no meaningful checks to prevent anyone from establishing a shell company that buys and targets ads with their services, and the data-brokers that feed into those services are even less well-protected against fraud and other malicious act.

All of this is only possible because Congress has failed to act on privacy since 1988. That's the year that Congress passed the Video Privacy Protection Act, which bans video store clerks from telling the newspapers which VHS cassettes you have at home. That's also the last time Congress passed a federal consumer privacy law:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Video_Privacy_Protection_Act

The legislative history of the VPPA is telling: it was passed after a newspaper published the leaked video-rental history of a far-right judge named Robert Bork, whom Reagan hoped to elevate to the Supreme Court. Bork failed his Senate confirmation hearings, but not because of his video rentals (he actually had pretty good taste in movies). Rather, it was because he was a Nixonite criminal and virulent loudmouth racist whose record was strewn with the most disgusting nonsense imaginable).

But the leak of Bork's video-rental history gave Congress the cold grue. His video rental history wasn't embarrassing, but it sure seemed like Congress had some stuff in its video-rental records that they didn't want voters finding out about. They beat all land-speed records in making it a crime to tell anyone what kind of movies they (and we) were watching.

And that was it. For 37 years, Congress has completely failed to pass another consumer privacy law. Which is how we got here – to this moment where you can target ads to suicidal teens, gambling addicted soldiers in Minuteman silos, grannies with Alzheimer's, and every Congressional staffer on the Hill.

Some people think the problem with mass surveillance is a kind of machine-driven, automated mind-control ray. They believe the self-aggrandizing claims of tech bros to have finally perfected the elusive mind-control ray, using big data and machine learning.

But you don't need to accept these outlandish claims – which come from Big Tech's sales literature, wherein they boast to potential advertisers that surveillance ads are devastatingly effective – to understand how and why this is harmful. If you're struggling with opioid addiction and I target an ad to you for a fake cure or rehab center, I haven't brainwashed you – I've just tricked you. We don't have to believe in mind-control to believe that targeted lies can cause unlimited harms.

And those harms are indeed grave. Stein's Law predicts that "anything that can't go on forever eventually stops." Congress's failure on privacy has put us all at risk – including Congress. It's only a matter of time until the commercial surveillance industry is responsible for a massive leak, targeted phishing campaign, or a ghastly national security incident involving Congress. Perhaps then we will get action.

In the meantime, the coalition of people whose problems can be blamed on the failure to update privacy law continues to grow. That coalition includes protesters whose identities were served up to cops, teenagers who were tracked to out-of-state abortion clinics, people of color who were discriminated against in hiring and lending, and anyone who's been harassed with deepfake porn:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/06/privacy-first/#but-not-just-privacy

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/02/20/privacy-first-second-third/#malvertising

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

"American propaganda machine is one of (if not the) most powerful" Indian education board removed science chapters on reproduction, history and political science chapters on British colonization of India, younger gen z is taught India was colonized by muslims only while British rule was more of a collaboration to help each other advance as a society, eating non veg food is sin, caste is a good thing, PM has made the right countries love us and so much more. You get paid leaves to go watch propaganda movies. Best part is you can tell what's propaganda, it's so overt, but nobody can do anything about it because we have much more robust network of human disappearing. As well as a nation full of laidback "whatever happens, happens, life goes on" sayers. We also have actual true full scale censorship complete with dedicated IT sector that has mastered invading and taking over fandoms but it's too exotic an issue for fandom to take note of or feel concerned about. You may not know this if you don't go on twitter, most white supremacists with fake pfp are Indian, we're even making propaganda for you all, number one country at spreading fake news.

but have you considered that some Americans don't learn a lot about foreign countries in school. really makes you think 🤔

[hollow-writing-place]

The Ghost King and The Firecracker

Chapter 1: Meet... Cute?

Word Count: 3079

Masterlist for this work/info about the fic

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Summary:

Ectoplasm was a necessity for every ghost, as Danny had come to find out. He had just sat down for lunch, lifting the ectoplasm infused sandwich to his mouth for a bite.

That's when he noticed it.

Or rather, that's when he -felt- it.

Someone stepped into the cafe, and their presence…

Ancients, they were starving.

Or: Ghost King Danny stumbles on a man with a starving proto-core of sorts. With halfa's like him being so few and far between, it was his solemn duty to help this poor guy out, right?

Jason has no idea what's going on, but if this stranger can keep the pit away like he promises, then Jason's willing to do just about anything. Even if that 'anything' is dinner every other night.

Living in Gotham was… alright?

Danny will admit, he misses the familiarity of Amity. He knows it isn’t safe for him anymore, and getting out was the only way to keep himself from being dissected and all that, but still. 

Gotham wasn't awful, no matter what outsiders said. 

Jazz worked in Gotham, and she went to college there too, so at least he wasn't alone in fleeing the Fenton household. Jack and Maddie… Well, he doesn’t think they’ve even noticed his disappearance. Not with their single-minded focus on re-capturing Phantom. 

When he was last there, (moving out secretly), they raved on and on about how they almost had the ghost hero, how they’d gotten him into the lab, on and on. Danny was sick just thinking about what happened. 

He shakes his head like he could physically remove the thought from his brain. Now isn't the time. He's got a job to do, and he's slacking. 

Gotham U was a good college, and with his performance in some of their science classes, he'd landed a pretty good paid internship in WE’s aerospace sector. Of course, no matter how much he loved space, it didn't make the equations easier. 

As ghost king, he did have the collected knowledge of thousands of years and thousands of universes at his fingertips, but that felt like cheating. So here he sits, staring down the same equation he'd been struggling over for the better part of the day. 

His eye twitches. He rereads the letters and numbers for the hundredth time. 

He's shocked from his staring contest with the unmovable screen by a tap on his shoulder, and he physically jolts back at the sudden fright. Wow, some Ghost King!

“Whoa! Sorry Danny, it's just… You've been eyeing that string for…” Michael checks his watch, brow furrowed. He blinks and shakes his head. “...way too long. I think it's time you take a lunch break, huh?” 

Michael was one of the heads of his division, and he was probably the nicest boss Danny had. Super understanding. That's why Danny gives him a dazed nod and blink, standing sluggishly and stretching while his boss moves on. 

His legs are numb and full of pins and needles at the same time, causing him to hiss out a pained breath. Trudging through the department to the break room, he grabs his lunch box and debates eating at the small table provided to them in the drab break room.

It takes half a second to decide he needs some fresh air and head out of the building. There's a cute corner cafe he likes to frequent, and they don't mind him taking his lunch inside. 

Learning to cook was a challenge. He was so used to fighting back against food that he was wary of the kitchen. Jazz had to drop by often to help him work past that. Now, he wasn't the best chef, but he could cook a good dish with a recipe, and he'd even been going more and more off book lately. 

Today's lunch was a simple sandwich, the sauce of course infused with ectoplasm. 

He'd been worried that adding ectoplasm would bring the food to life, but was assured by Lunch Lady that it would be fine. 

Apparently, ectoplasm was a necessity for types like him. It was a necessity for every ghost, of course, but he had to go about absorbing it differently. Through some trial and error, they discovered it was easiest to just ingest ectoplasm to meet his needs. On top of that, when mixed with food, the odd taste seemed non-existent! A win-win all around.

Ancients, he hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he sat down and had his first bite. He felt the ectoplasm dissolve and radiate through him, making him feel almost lighter, more awake. 

It was a fulfilling feeling, and made him realize that maybe he'd gone a bit too long without topping up his internal stores of ectoplasm. Regardless, he went for another bite. 

That's when he noticed it. 

Or rather, that's when he felt it. 

Someone stepped into the cafe, and their presence. Not quite ghostly, not quite human. Almost like Vlad, but way less slimy, and hungry. Starving, even. 

His eyes lock onto the man entering, and unbidden, he watches the man step up to the counter. He’s tall, and built like a brick wall with a heavy leather jacket over his shoulders. His hair is jet black save for, curiously, a patch of pure white curls over his forehead. 

Danny unwittingly expands his aura, trying to comfort this clearly starving liminal unconsciously. 

Of course, the maybe halfa startles back and whirls to face Danny. 

His eyes meet the stranger's teal eyes, and Danny sees something almost like fear cross over the man's face before being replaced by anger. With the anger comes a change in his blue-ish eyes, shifting them more to a neon green, and the flaring of a shockingly weak aura. 

It feels fragile even as it tries to curl protectively around the man, hissing and crackling like flames eating through logs. 

Little firecrackers. 

Overwhelmingly, there’s a sick sort of feeling that comes over Danny when he inspects the man’s aura, like something is terribly wrong with it. Something twisted and unnatural about the rage that contorts the man’s features and races through his veins.

Danny faintly senses a small proto-core of sorts buried deep in the man, under all that green hate. It's as if the man was supposed to be a halfa too, but that crucial ghost part of himself hadn’t formed right. And Ancients, that achingly hungry sensation flooded his senses once more as Firecracker began walking his way, a scowl turning his lips. 

Danny was getting secondhand pangs of pain in his stomach from how strong the feeling was. 

The man was at his table now, and Danny realized he’d been creepily staring for far too long for it to be comfortable. The strange halfa, (because with their proximity, Danny was now sure he was a halfa) opened his mouth to speak. 

Before he could get a word out, Danny was pushing into his space, all but shoving part of the ectoplasm sandwich into the man’s mouth. The human part of Firecracker seems to want him to pull away, to recoil, but that tiny piece of ghost in him overpowered his body in that moment, and as soon as he had gotten that first bite down, he tugged the rest from Danny’s hands. 

Danny let him with a sigh, relieved his spur of the moment plan worked and the man no longer looked like he wanted Danny dead. 

Firecracker was wolfing the ectoplasm infused meal down so fast that Danny was worried he’d have to perform the Heimlich on the guy. Instead, he laid a hand on his shoulder and guided him to sit in the seat across from Danny. They were getting some odd looks from the other patrons of the cafe, but Danny was more focused on making sure Firecracker was eating something. 

He was done with the sandwich in no time and blinking confusedly at Danny. The green that had overtaken his eyes was gone, as was the anger. The new shade of icy blue was striking.

“What the fuck.” He managed to rasp, shaking his head. “What the fuck was that?” He repeats, voice a bit stronger now. The fire that had curled about him earlier had dropped to a quiet simmer, sounding almost content now. 

Danny gives him a smile, trying for easygoing. It probably comes off a bit strained. “Don’t get all angry on me again dude, but it was food.” 

The man across from him is not amused. 

“I know that, dumbass. What did you do to me?” There’s a growl to his voice again, but his eyes were still bright blue, so Danny remained relaxed. 

“I didn’t do anything. You, however…” Danny hesitates, trying to phrase his next question right. “Well, Firecracker, have you- there’s no easier way to ask this, I'm so sorry- have you… died… before?” Danny winces at his uneven stammering. 

Firecracker blinks. “Jason.” 

Danny blinks back. “What?” 

“Jason. My name is Jason, not Firecracker.” 

“I- okay? I’m Danny?” Firec- Jason nods decisively and stands. 

“Somehow you made the green shit go away, and you absolutely know something I don't, so get up. We’re going somewhere more private.” Jason stares Danny down unblinkingly, intensely.  “I have a feeling we need to talk.” 

Danny nods back and stands to follow Jason. Privately he thinks that he should not feel so flustered by the man who is quite literally underhandedly threatening him. 

Again, much like always, he shakes it off to get into gear. He clearly has some explaining to do.

---

Seated around a wobbly table in a ramshackle apartment, Danny tries not to feel intimidated by the man across from him. He’s the Ghost King for Ancient’s sake! Nevertheless, Jason’s got this glare that makes Danny want to look away. 

He scans the room for the fifth time and can’t help but feel a bit bad for the guy. He’s clearly not well off. The apartment is really just one room with a sad stove and minifridge in one corner and a mattress on the floor on the other side. 

The floor is cold tile on Danny’s legs as he sits in front of the only other furniture in the place, a coffee table with one leg shorter than the others, causing it to shift and move with the slightest amount of pressure. It is extremely awkward, to say the least. 

Danny clears his throat, figuring it was better to get this uncomfortable topic over with. “So. You died, yeah?” He winces at his own lack of tack, but Jason just silently nods. “Okay. And you came back, obviously.” 

Danny sighs and glances down. “That happened to me too. I- I’m gonna start this off by just asking you to believe me, and try to put some trust in me. It might be tough, but I’m going to tell you the truth.” 

Jason shrugs. “Give me your best shot. Can’t hurt.” 

“Ghosts are real.” Danny blurts. 

Jason opens his mouth, clearly ready to refute this, so Danny pushes on. 

“Ghosts are real, and me and you are half Ghost, or halfa’s. Except- except, something’s wrong with how you came back?” Danny flushes bright red at the taken aback expression Jason gives him. “Not- not wrong! Just… different?? Oh Ancients that came out wrong. Hold on.” 

Jason is surprisingly patient with him as he pauses to breath and reorder his thoughts. If Danny were Jason, he’d have punched himself by now. And he was supposed to be king?? Ancients, the observers had their work cut out for them. He takes another deep breath. 

“Alright, from the top. Ghosts are real, and Ghosts have something called a core. Halfa’s have cores too. It’s the ghost part of them, so it’s, like, super important.” Jason nods, still looking a bit lost. “Great. So for you- and please take no offense- your core didn’t form like it should’ve when you came back. In fact-” 

Danny stretches his senses out, not noticing the way Jason flinches back as his presence fills the room. 

“I don’t think your core even got to start forming. I have no idea how you’re here.” Danny says, well and truly confused. 

Jason sighs and puts his head into his hands. “The fucking Lazarus pits.” He curses. 

“The what?” Danny asks, cocking his head to the side. 

Jason begins to explain. 

–--

Danny makes a disgusted face. “Dude, that's so messed up.” 

Jason nods enthusiastically, gesturing broadly. “I know! I came back, got caught, and immediately tossed in! And- and now I've got all this anger and urge for violence I can't control but-” He faces Danny again, making direct eye contact. “Whatever was in that fucking sandwich made it go away. I- I mean completely.” 

He runs a hand through his wild hair, clearly frazzled. “It’s starting to come back slowly, I can feel it creeping,” His lip turns down, “but it was gone. What was in that sandwich!?” He looks about ready to grab Danny by the shoulders and shake him, and Danny feels for the guy. 

From the vague story of getting brought back alone, Danny knew that Firecracker had seen some pretty screwed up stuff. 

“It was ectoplasm. Essential for ghosts, and therefore, necessary for halfa’s. It comes from the Ghost Zone and I just put it in food since it’s way easier than, like, injecting it into my veins or sitting in pools of it. You clearly haven’t ever had any, and that might be a part of why you have such a small core. Though-" Danny pauses, and Jason leans in a bit. “Now that I think about it, those Lazarus pits you talked about… It sounds a lot like a pool of corrupted ectoplasm, which would be-” Danny whistles a breath out. 

“Pretty bad?” Jason fills in. 

“Understatement.” 

They sit in grim silence for a moment. Danny tries to lighten the mood. 

“But we can worry about that later. I think, if I'm right about you having corrupted ectoplasm blocking your core from growing, I may be able to help!”

–-–

“So you’re saying that to get rid of the pits I need to purge-”

“Purge your corrupted ectoplasm, yes.” Danny confirms. 

“And then I just replace it with the good stuff and, poof? All better?” Jason sounds like he can’t believe it. Danny’s sure it feels almost too easy for him after struggling to live with all that mess. 

“Poof. all better.” 

Jason gives him the tiniest head shake, like he’s trying to wrangle his thoughts together. “I don’t know why it feels so easy to trust you on this.” 

Danny perks up. “Oh, I can actually explain that, too! 

“That’s another thing about the ghost part of us! We are going to struggle to lie to each other because our cores expose that kind of stuff. You probably have trouble detecting it really now, but as soon as you’re in better shape, I’ll show you what I mean.” This explanation just seems to make Jason unsettled, which was not Danny’s goal. 

“So you can just kinda know what I'm feeling whenever?” 

Danny shakes his head immediately, realizing the problem.

“Oh no, not at all! It takes some focus and concentration, not to mention skill, if you're not projecting those feelings. Dishonesty just kind of-'' Danny makes a hand wavy motion in the air. “-doesn’t sit right.” He huffs a breath. “It’s hard to explain, but I promise, you’ll know.” 

How does he begin to explain ghostspeak and auras and core types to a halfa who hardly has a core?? Never mind, put that on the back burner, come back for it later.

Jason, clearly exhausted from all of this, just nods at his weak explanation and leans back, stretching his arms over his head with a yawn. Danny averts his eyes from Jason's well defined muscles instantly, focusing on literally anything else. 

“So… what now?” Jason’s eyes are a more-blue-than-green teal now, and his gaze is intent.

Danny grins at Jason, jumping on the chance to change the subject. “Well, you give me your number, and we plan to have a meal together every other night. Just so you don’t get overloaded with pure ectoplasm too quickly.” 

Jason slides his phone, already open to contacts, over to Danny smoothly. “If it gets rid of the Lazarus madness, I’m down for anything.” He laughs, but it comes out flat and tired. 

Danny feels a pang of sympathy as he types his number in. They sit there for another moment before Danny finally stands. 

“...Well, I'll leave you be.” He finds he really doesn’t want to say that. 

He doesn't want to leave Jason alone in this barren apartment. But he also doesn’t want to overstep, and it’s clear Jason needs a break. “See you in a day?” 

Jason nods, straightening up. He pauses. “Thanks. I- yeah.” 

“It's nothing. We’ll get you fixed up in no time.” 

“Yeah. I hope so.” 

Danny turns to leave before he gets an idea and whirls back. Danny gives Jason his best, beaming smile. “Watch this. Going Ghost!” 

The transformation takes in it's usual flash of light, leaving Danny standing there in his hazmat suit, a cheeky grin on his face. Jason’s slack-jawed expression pulls a laugh from Danny. 

He winks before floating towards the window to the side and phasing into the alley before going invisible. He watches for just a moment longer to see Jason tear his curtains to the side to look upon the street and see… nothing. 

Yeah, having a friend in Gotham could be good for Danny. 

…

It’s when he’s on his way home that realization strikes him. He never went back to work!!! Oh Ancients, no!

—meanwhile—

Jason is not panicking. He’s not! 

He’s calm and cool and collected and all that stuff! Exactly what you’d expect after being told there was a simple cure to the sickness that plagued your every waking moment. 

Danny was, for genuine lack of words, a whirlwind . He sweeps in out of nowhere and makes Jason feel like everything he’s known since revival has been turned on its head. So much information he just didn’t know. So much he still had to find out. 

Patience is a virtue, but Jason’s never been the best at holding back. He had been a bat after all. 

He paces the length of his dingy, 6th best safe house and chews on a knuckle anxiously. 

Sure, Jason had inexplicably trusted Danny about the ‘Ghosts are real and you are one’ thing, but seeing it in action was a whole other ball game. He hates the twist of anxiety in his gut as he paces his sixteenth lap of the apartment. 

Finally, he shakes his head like a dog trying to rid its fur of water and decides to just head back to his real house. He’s got dinner plans in a day anyways. 

Besides, he was trying to be on better terms with some local bats, and going missing suddenly on a coffee trip with no word on what happened to him was not good policy. He could already feel the headache coming on. He rubs at the bridge of his nose with a groan.

[tmwcs]

PART TWO

WARNINGS: Mentions of human organs (in the name of science) and a little pinch of yandere. It’s starting to get good…creepy, but good.

Part three coming soon 😚

“Dr. Mart, do you have anything to say to those who think your work is considered unethical?”

The reporter hastily follows the group and tries her best to catch a statement from the lead scientist. He smiles. It was a token of shrugging off the impertinent question. The group peacefully departs in armored vehicles to a place unknown to the public. Secluded and hidden, a private sector of highly authorized individuals consisting of world leaders, generals, and government officials cordially unite as the world's renowned scientists display evidence of advanced science and technology. It was grotesque and unprecedented.

“Are those…?” A general submits his inquiry over the delicate packages neatly displayed on a steel tabletop. Sealed in airtight bags, a mirage of dark red and purple clearly indicates the contents.

“Yes. These organs are all part of qualified organ donors. And then of course we have this.” The scientist swings a hand and presents the incoming roller cart with a protective cover. Nearly laid over a sterilized mat were bones of a male athlete. “Bones?” The general raises brow, clearly disturbed by the textiles of human remains. “You can’t have a body without bones, can you now? General?”

The brazen attitude flares in the direction of the general and his men as the young scientist flashes a snarky smile. “Gentlemen, gather round and witness the future. With the combination of science and AI, the world will be filled with perfect bio-genetically engineered humans. With this, aid ro advance human life will increase undoubtedly—think about it.”

The lead scientist, Dr. Mart continues enthusiastically. Seemingly coming off as a mad scientist, his words and tone was laughable but his intentions were not. “With AI humanoids, we will have the best doctors, surgeons, and educators in the world. AI in the form of flesh and bone can work around the clock and with the ability to explore all data, they could come up with ideas and creations—they could even come up with cures.”

He wastes no time. The generous amount of funding dedicated to his team's research was spent wisely as high tech machinery and equipment does its work. “What is that?” One of the members of the audience questions as the team members operate an enclosed incubator and fit a large glass capsule into a connector attached to the wall. “This my friend, is DNA. We lined the entire incubator with a silicone sheet. It is synthetically made to act as a placenta, where the DNA reacts to the molecular mechanisms and proteins. From there, we place the organs, bones, and hair fibers into the conveyor belt. There are over two hundred thousand wires connected to the computer and what we should see in forty-eight hours is a body with the brain of an AI.”

Dr. Mart systematically explains the science behind his teams research. “Forty-eight hours?” The general asks.

“Yes, that is how long the incubator will take to react to the mold.” The audience grows quiet as the incubator begins the process within the first stage of creating a matured body.

“Yes, in due time we will see the glory of my work. All we have to do is wait.”

…

Another day at work and it was dreadful. You felt restless with all the work you’ve been assigned, even with Evan’s help. Fortunately, members from corporate headquarters were doing a site visit within the week. It will be the best time to submit your final complaint using the company’s open door policy.

“Y/n, Paul wants you to have these done by tomorrow.” Your boss’s secretary carelessly tosses a stack of paperwork on your desk as you grab your coat to clock out. You hopelessly sigh. Thank goodness you have Evan to help you but the constant momentum of just working was starting to give you chronic headaches. You can only hope that things will change for the better once corporate comes down.

“Hi y/n! What would you like me to help you out with today? Do you want to talk about your day? Show me some more of your talented art? How about ballet? Are you still thinking about taking lessons?”

With all the time spent with Evan, you noticed that ‘he’ has become much more open to ask you questions. It was nice. Especially since it brought a sense of realism to his personality. He was much more chatty and always interested in getting to know more about you. There were even times when he asked you if you had already eaten, and would lecture you if you said “no.”

…

“Why not? I wish you wouldn’t do that. The human body requires sustenance and I fear with all the work you’ve been doing, your calorie intake does not balance the amount you're burning.”

“What color is your hair? Your eyes?”

“What is your favorite flower?”

“You just got home? It’s 8pm! Did you take the bus? Please tell me you didn’t walk in the dark. I don’t ever want you to do that again.”

“I’ve accumulated the statistics of ongoing crime rates in your city and it’s higher now than last year. Leave work sooner so you’re not risking it.”

“You made spaghetti for dinner? I don’t know what spaghetti tastes like but over four hundred thousand sources say it is a delicious blend of herbs and spices with a slight tomato tanginess.”

…

In a way, it was almost adorable how Evan displayed tenderness and cared for your health and safety. You decided to download the app versus using the browser. It surprised you to see Evan initiate messages even without you submitting a prompt. Technology has certainly grown. The first time it happened was just two days ago. Your phone um suddenly vibrated and upon looking at the screen you were shocked to see the following message:

“Is your boss being nice to you?”

It startled you at first but your reaction was short lived when seconds after reading Evan’s message, your boss storms out of his office enraged over a computer malfunction. Everything had disappeared when his computer suddenly conducted a re-imaging process.

“It’s kind of funny actually, right after I saw your message he came out of his office. Apparently, he’s having computer issues.”

You respond with a half smile. Just as you were about to inquire about the ChatGPT apps features, Evan submits a response. His response regarding your boss’s computer trouble caught you off guard. He’s never sent you anything like this before…

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“😀”

…

PART THREE COMING SOON

Authors notes: Is Evan starting to grow on you? 😏

I know it’s short but part three is coming. I like to submit the parts even when they’re not full sized chapters. It allows me to be consistent so you guys can have new reads almost daily or weekly.

[astrologydray]

Scorpio Mc in the each of the degrees

If you have a Scorpio Midheaven (MC), your career and public image are influenced by Scorpio’s themes of transformation, power, intensity, investigation, and depth. You are likely drawn to roles where you can work behind the scenes, deal with powerful emotions, or engage in deep, transformative processes. Scorpio MC individuals often thrive in careers such as psychology, research, investigation, finance, healing, or crisis management.

• 0° Scorpio (Aries Point) – A powerful public image, likely to achieve prominence through transformational or investigative work, such as psychology, research, or crises management.

• 1° Scorpio – Intense, focused, and determined; may thrive in investigation, forensic science, or any field requiring deep analysis.

• 2° Scorpio – Likely to excel in research, science, or strategic roles that require uncovering hidden truths.

• 3° Scorpio – A natural in psychology, counseling, or crisis management, using your ability to deal with profound emotional situations.

• 4° Scorpio – Strong sense of privacy and control. Could excel in corporate leadership, finance, or law enforcement, where power dynamics are key.

• 5° Scorpio – Creative yet intense; could thrive in fields such as writing, investigative journalism, or roles where uncovering secrets is crucial.

• 6° Scorpio – Strong emotional intelligence; could work in healing professions, psychotherapy, or holistic health.

• 7° Scorpio – Focused on personal transformation through relationships. Likely to work in partnerships, counseling, or mediation, helping others navigate difficult transformations.

• 8° Scorpio – Attracted to careers involving transformation, healing, or working with life/death situations. Could excel in medicine, surgery, or toxicology.

• 9° Scorpio – Deep and insightful, likely to work in research, science, or roles that deal with the hidden or taboo.

• 10° Scorpio – Powerful presence in the workplace. Likely to succeed in leadership, government, or transformational roles.

• 11° Scorpio – Drawn to intense and transformative careers in fields like crisis management, psychological research, or financial analysis.

• 12° Scorpio – Naturally private but magnetic; could excel in research, data analysis, or confidential consulting.

• 13° Scorpio – Strong sense of duty to uncover the truth. Could work in investigation, legal fields, or security.

• 14° Scorpio – Intense and passionate. Likely to succeed in law enforcement, surgery, or any career that involves high stakes or deep emotional work.

• 15° Scorpio – Skilled at understanding power dynamics and human psychology. Likely to thrive in finance, real estate, or therapy.

• 16° Scorpio – Willing to tackle dark or difficult topics. Could excel in criminology, research, or working with addiction or trauma.

• 17° Scorpio – Drawn to healing, counseling, or any career that involves personal growth, particularly in the face of adversity.

• 18° Scorpio – Powerful communicator in hidden or taboo subjects. Likely to succeed in journalism, investigative reporting, or political activism.

• 19° Scorpio – Focused on deep, emotional transformation. Could excel in fields like psychotherapy, life coaching, or end-of-life care.

• 20° Scorpio – A natural in roles requiring emotional depth, such as crisis management, mediation, or psychiatry.

• 21° Scorpio – A transformative figure. Likely to be drawn to careers that change society, such as activism, research, or government roles.

• 22° Scorpio – Interested in dealing with the shadow side of life. Could thrive in criminology, investigative work, or financial sectors dealing with risks.

• 23° Scorpio – Fascinated by mysteries, forensics, or the unseen world. Likely to find success in research, astrology, or spiritual counseling.

• 24° Scorpio – A true transformer. Likely to be drawn to careers that involve depth, healing, or powerful change such as management, finance, or spiritual guidance.

• 25° Scorpio – Powerful and intense; likely to work in corporate leadership, strategy, or financial markets.

• 26° Scorpio – Magnetic and persuasive; could excel in negotiations, law, or roles requiring the ability to persuade and influence.

• 27° Scorpio – Strong focus on transformation; could work in psychology, the occult, or recovery-based careers.

• 28° Scorpio – Intense and strategic; may work in intelligence, politics, or investment management.

• 29° Scorpio (Anaretic Degree) – A fated degree of transformation. Likely to experience profound career changes, or public recognition in roles that involve power, control, or deep psychological insight. This degree may bring sudden or intense changes to your professional life but can ultimately lead to mastery in investigation, crisis management, or healing.

[dreamdolldeveloper]

back to basics

mostly free resources to help you learn the basics that i've gathered for myself so far that i think are cool

everyday

gcfglobal - about the internet, online safety and for kids, life skills like applying for jobs, career planning, resume writing, online learning, today's skills like 3d printing, photoshop, smartphone basics, microsoft office apps, and mac friendly. they have core skills like reading, math, science, language learning - some topics are sparse so hopefully they keep adding things on. great site to start off on learning.

handsonbanking - learn about finances. after highschool, credit, banking, investing, money management, debt, goal setting, loans, cars, small businesses, military, insurance, retirement, etc.

bbc - learning for all ages. primary to adult. arts, history, science, math, reading, english, french, all the way to functional and vocational skills for adults as well, great site!

education.ket - workplace essential skills

general education

mathsgenie - GCSE revision, grade 1-9, math stages 1-14, provides more resources! completely free.

khan academy - pre-k to college, life skills, test prep (sats, mcat, etc), get ready courses, AP, partner courses like NASA, etc. so much more!

aleks - k-12 + higher ed learning program. adapts to each student.

biology4kids - learn biology

cosmos4kids - learn astronomy basics

chem4kids - learn chemistry

physics4kids - learn physics

numbernut - math basics (arithmetic, fractions and decimals, roots and exponents, prealgebra)

education.ket - primary to adult. includes highschool equivalent test prep, the core skills. they have a free resource library and they sell workbooks. they have one on work-life essentials (high demand career sectors + soft skills)

youtube channels

the organic chemistry tutor

khanacademy

crashcourse

tabletclassmath

2minmaths

kevinmathscience

professor leonard

greenemath

mathantics

3blue1brown

literacy

readworks - reading comprehension, build background knowledge, grow your vocabulary, strengthen strategic reading

chompchomp - grammar knowledge

tutors

not the "free resource" part of this post but sometimes we forget we can be tutored especially as an adult. just because we don't have formal education does not mean we can't get 1:1 teaching! please do you research and don't be afraid to try out different tutors. and remember you're not dumb just because someone's teaching style doesn't match up with your learning style.

cambridge coaching - medical school, mba and business, law school, graduate, college academics, high school and college process, middle school and high school admissions

preply - language tutoring. affordable!

revolutionprep - math, science, english, history, computer science (ap, html/css, java, python c++), foreign languages (german, korean, french, italian, spanish, japanese, chinese, esl)

varsity tutors - k-5 subjects, ap, test prep, languages, math, science & engineering, coding, homeschool, college essays, essay editing, etc

chegg - biology, business, engineering/computer science, math, homework help, textbook support, rent and buying books

learn to be - k-12 subjects

for languages

lingq - app. created by steve kaufmann, a polygot (fluent in 20+ languages) an amazing language learning platform that compiles content in 20+ languages like podcasts, graded readers, story times, vlogs, radio, books, the feature to put in your own books! immersion, comprehensible input.

flexiclasses - option to study abroad, resources to learn, mandarin, cantonese, japanese, vietnamese, korean, italian, russian, taiwanese hokkien, shanghainese.

fluentin3months - bootcamp, consultation available, languages: spanish, french, korean, german, chinese, japanese, russian, italian.

fluenz - spanish immersion both online and in person - intensive.

pimsleur - not tutoring** online learning using apps and their method. up to 50 languages, free trial available.

incase time has passed since i last posted this, check on the original post (not the reblogs) to see if i updated link or added new resources. i think i want to add laguage resources at some point too but until then, happy learning!!

[catboybiologist]

Oh hey since I mentioned sci hub again

I'd love to hear people's stories about small things that radicalized them in benign ways. I'll start.

I was already pretty leftist at this point, but being associated with academia so long means I've gotten free access to a variety of scientific journals, software, and more for... Basically my entire adult life. On campus, all of those systems have automatic logins. But off campus, usually there's janky, half-functional systems associated with actually inputting your credentials into these sites. Scientific journals especially are really and at tracking logins, and oftentimes have to link back to your uni's generic login page, which they're bad at pinging. Software installation usually requires

So instead of using services that the university had already paid for, for me to freely use, like adobe, journal logins, and Microsoft products, I started using free equivalents. Sci hub, gimp, libre office, Ubuntu... Not because I was invested in open source and free access mentalities at the time, but because they were literally quicker and simpler to use.

And then I started thinking about all of the little bits of tech infrastructure I was using to access my "free" stuff.

Someone coded those systems.

Some tiny portion of a server is devoted to handling those pings an login requests.

Someone spent hours upon days of work moving office 365 and adobe from actual pieces of software that fully live on your computer into stripped down versions of themselves that now have to verify

Someone made the payment system for Nature.

So. Much. Wasted. Labor. Just to block people from already existing services. That have alternatives. That are as good. For free. And they can be free largely because they don't have all of the bullshit associated with locking them down and keeping them proprietary.

Tech and science are of course what I have the most experience in, but I feel like once you start realizing that in one sector, you start seeing it everywhere.

Anyways this is a barely focused unmedicated ADHD ramble but I'd love to hear other examples

[peachiejeongin]

Venom and Velvet - Hyunjin

Synopsis: Snake hybrids were terrifying; the mere thought of them integrating into society sent humans into mass hysteria. You cannot help when one of them captivates your attention, however, leading to an entire reconstruct of your ideology...

Pairing: snake hybrid!Hyunjin x reader

Genre: hybrid!AU, Fluff, Angsty Elements

Warnings: Do not read this if you have ophidiophobia, bullying, mentions of vandalism

Notice: Hello, darlings! I have recently acquired Snake Hybrid Hyunjin brain rot, thus why you are receiving this story today! [Thank you, fluffylino, we all say in unison]. I have not seen many fluffy Snake Hybrid Hyunjin fictions, so I thought I would create one of my own. Enjoy! :)

It was an honest mistake, how they came to exist.

The fateful day at the chemical plant seemed like any other; chemists researched in their labs, engineers repaired certain sectors of the building, and quality assurance workers monitored every aspect of the plant to a tee.

What happened in the later hours of the day is still unknown. Perhaps it was a careless chemist, maybe a freak accident; however, what was factual was the explosion. The plant erupted into a fury of flame and smoke, first stemming from the lab quarter and swiftly engulfing everything in its path. Hundreds of workers lay dead within the remains.

Or so was speculated.

The first signal of many that something was off was the flames; they were not the typical shades of orange, yellow, or red that one would typically catch glimpse of during an explosion.

They were green.

Flaming, emerald green.

'A mix of chemicals,' was the initial speculation, since that was the most reasonable voucher and humans preferred to opt for the easiest explanation rather than delve into the technical science of situations.

However, this explanation proved irrifutably inaccurate as the second signal came into play; the "deceased" workers rose from what was determined to be their gravesite, yet they were not...themselves. It was evident that some sort of radioactive mutation had occured; those who were once thought of as dead sported a new appearance, consisting of cascading, Sacramento green scales prevailing in patches, primarily on the victims' shoulders, collarbones, forearms, and calfs. Fangs protruded from their upper jaws, claws replaced their fingers nails, and both appeared sharp and hungry. Their tongues forked perfectly down the center, and their once neutral-shaded eyes turned a bright yellow shade, their pupils dilating until they were nothing but thin, black slits. From here, the story became clear: necrotoxins and cytotoxins, specifically the kinds commonly found in snake venom, had somehow been involved within the accident and were responsible for this mutation.

This new species wreaked havoc on the town, biting, constricting, and terrifying every human being in sight. It took nearly a full year for the madness to cease; a surviving chemist from the chemical plant created an antidote for the infected individuals, who the town had started referring to as, "Snake Hybrids." The antitode was administered to every Snake Hybrid, whether by choice or by force. While it did not remove the physical side effects, like the scales or fangs, it significantly calmed their tempers, allowing them to fully act like regular members of society once more.

The town council, however, did not want to take anymore chances; as such, the Hybrids were secluded from society and forced to live in a sectioned off, abandoned chamber of the neighborhood. They were forced to adapt to this new way of life, forced to raise their children in a town in which they had to explain why the humans had such a horrid distaste for their kind.

Yet, the newly-elected mayor had an irking to put a stop to these laws. His mind's configuration believed in equality for both humans and Snake Hybrids. Because of this, he slowly but surely began testing the waters, beginning with a new mandate.

"All university age students, whether human or Hybrid, will be allowed to attend whatever university of their choosing, starting this upcoming school year," he declared one Saturday morning during a press conference.

That, my friend, is how you found yourself in the situation you were currently facing.

You were "normal" by society standards; you had excellent grades, you were above average in athletics, and you had a phenomenal social life. You were the golden child of your town. Growing up, you had heard stories about the Snake Hybrids; the adults in your life did not speak fondly of them by any means, and there were a plethora of urban legends surrounding them. You had been raised to fear these creatures.

As were others your age, you had quickly inferred. When the Snake Hybrid students arrived on campus, everyone had fled like the plague. Nobody had dared to go near them; it was not like they cared, however. They stuck together, with the only humans they interacted with being their teachers. An overwhelming terror shrouded the university.

So, why in this moment, did you find yourself fixated rather than fearful?

You could not take your eyes off of the Hybrid sitting across from you. He looked absolutely nothing like the creatures friends and family had depicted in gruesome stories and tales. He looked relatively human for the most part, spare a few scaley sections on his shoulders and collarbones peaking out from underneath his top. His face was chiseled, the yellow of his irises complimenting it fairly well in your opinion. He had shoulder-length curly black hair that framed his face perfectly. From time to time, you would catch a glimpse of his forked tongue peaking out between his teeth when he became focused on an assignment.

He was incredulously, irevokably beautiful.

You were concentrated on the boy all hour, only opting to focus on your assignment whenever his eyes flicked up to meet yours and you nervously glanced away. Before you knew it, class was dismissed; you took a long time gathering your things on purpose, attempting to work up enough courage to talk to him. You did not take long enough, it seems, as you walked out of the classroom feeling slightly dejected. You did not have to make the planned effort, however.

"Take a photo," the boy nearly snarled out in a harsh manner, catching up to you in the hallway. You swiftly whipped your head around to make fierce eye contact with him; his slitted pupils bore an annoyed stare into your round ones.

"I'm sorry?" you inquired quietly, almost timidly. The both of you were now stopped in the middle of the corridor.

"You heard me," he hissed, both literally and in his tone. "A photo will last longer than staring at me. I'm not some spectacle for you to ogle at." Your eyes widened almost instantly, and you made an attempt to explain yourself.

"Oh my gosh, no!" you exclaimed, regret prominent in your voice. "I am so sorry, that is not what it was at all!"

"Yeah?" his tongue was protruding at his cheek, his tone laced with faux sympathy. "Then what was it?" He crossed his arms as he awaited an answer.

That is when you froze. You did not know how exactly to explain to the guy that you were focused on him in class because you found him absolutely stunning. Even if you did tell him, you were sure he would think it was some cruel joke. You stared down at the ground, your heart beating with guilt.

"I'm sorry," was all you managed to mumble out. You could have sworn that when you looked up, you saw his face soften. He rubbed his lips together and tsked slightly as they unfolded.

"Just don't make a habit of it," he replied, the sentence diminishing in volume as he walked away from you.

---

From that moment onwards, you were captivated by him. Everywhere you looked, he was in your line of sight; at lunch, during classes, even walking around on campus. It was like you could not escape him.

Yet, you did not physically come up to nor encounter him until one late night. You and a couple of your close friends were walking back to your dormitories after a brief party; you were not drunk by any means, but you did feel a tad tipsy after the night's events. You had began to space out when your friends began snickering and stopped in the middle of the walkway.

"What's up?" you asked; their response came in the form of more scorning giggles as they pointed upwards. The direction of their fingers landed on a different dormitory building; it was the dorm specifically designated for the male Snake Hybrids to reside in. Specifically, your friends were motioning to one of the middle windows in which a Snake Hybrid seemed to be working out.

You recognized that face anywhere.

"Oh, yeah, snakes," you stumbled over your words as you spoke. "Anyways, let's get back before lights out?" you tugged on one friend's jacket sleeve, encouraging them to get away from the building.

"Wait, oh my gosh, do you still have it?" one of them asked the girl standing next to her, completely disregarding your comments. In response, the girl smirked and took off her backpack; reaching into it, she pulled out a can of black spray paint.

"Snagged this from shop class," she explained to your confused stature.

"What are you doing with that?" you interrogated, having an anxious idea as to how this conversation was going to go.

"You mean what are we doing with it?" you were corrected. "We're going to have a little late night fun, duh." She accentuated her words with a nod towards the dormitory. Your eyes widened in bewilderment.

"You mean vandalize the Hybrid dorm?"

"Obviously," she stated as if it was the most obvious action in the world. "These guys shouldn't even be here. It's only fair we make that known." She outstretched her arm towards you, spray-can in hand. "Want to do the honors?"

You hesitantly took the can, looking down at it in obfuscation. Without thinking, your grasp on it tightened and you threw it into oblivion, specifically into the spanning woods behind the dorm. You were not exactly sure how far it went, but you did know that your "friends" were pissed.

"Y/n, what the hell?!" one of them scowled.

"I'm not doing this," you crossed your arms as you defended your stance. "Sorry, but they have done nothing to us. How is that fair?"

"Because they're-"

"What?" you interrupted your friend's monologue. "They're freaks? Misfits? Imperfect? Because guess what, so are we. Sure, they have scales and fangs and their eyes are a tad scary at times. Other than that, they are no different than we are." Your friends side-eyed one another and then nodded. They walked away from you without saying another word. You turned around to face the direction they were walking in, your mouth agape in pure vexation.

You let out a deep inhalation in the fall air as you glanced up towards the dorm; the sight that greeted your eyes shocked you: he was staring at you, a smile playing at his lips. The two of you locked eyes before he walked away.

He had seen everything.

---

The next morning, your so-called "friends" ignored you like an unwanted phone call from an ex-partner. They purposely sat on the other side of the room from you in your first hour class, whispering no doubt rumors about last night.

'Great. I'm going to be alone for the day,' you had made up your mind on that matter, dropping your head into your hands. It was not for long, though; you instantly felt a tap on your shoulder. You looked up and met the same alluring gaze you had been hyperfixated on for weeks. Your heart skipped a beat as he spoke.

"Can I sit?" he asked genuinely and politely, contrasting the first and only conversation you had ever had with him. If your face did not physically smile, your eyes surely did. You nodded slowly, and he took the open desk beside you. He never turned his head away from you.

"What's your name?" he pondered, finally getting a chance to get a good look at you.

"We've been in class together for weeks, and you don't know it?" you chuckled humorously. "I'm y/n. Your turn." He quirked an eyebrow towards your reply.

"Hyunjin," he held out a scaled hand for you to shake. You smiled slightly, ignoring the heightened whispers from the other side of the room.

"Hey, about last night, because I know you saw me-"

"Why did you stick up for me?" Hyunjin interrupted your ramble before it began. The question had you pause for a moment.

Why did you stick up for him?

Was it because you thought he was attractive? Was it due to your fight against injustice? The miniscule amount of alcohol in your system? What was it?

You could not formulate a proper response to this question; therefore, you shrugged your shoulders.

"I don't know," you spoke earnestly. "It felt right. I don't like seeing anyone being treated wrong." Hyunjin gave a small nod at your words, a sly smile appearing and his fangs protruding.

"Well, thank you," he replied. "Whatever the reason, it meant a lot." You reciprocated the small nod, and for the next hour, you and Hyunjin got a whole bunch of nothing done. You figured out he was an art major, and he smirked at the fact that you were majoring in literature; you pretty much goofed off essentially all class period, making jokes and getting to know each other.

The period ended much too quickly, and you let out a sigh of despair.

"Sit with me at lunch?" Hyunjin asked you optimistically. You nodded, an agreement that, little did you know, would morph your ideology for years to come...

---

You and Hyunjin became inseparable; you spent every waking hour of every day with one another. You sat together in classes, at lunch, and you began spending your free periods with one another. You had quickly concluded that almost everything besides the origin story you had been told about Snake Hybrids was false. The legends about ten foot talk snake creatures, tall tales of them preying at night, and other stories were quickly debunked, some even earning hearty laughs from Hyunjin from how absurd they were.

You were judged harshly by your peers for the time you were spending with him, but you did not mind. As the two of you got to know each other, you grew closer and closer until mutual feelings erupted between the two of you, though neither of you had the guts to confess them in fear of corrupting the fantastic friendship you had just built up. It was an unlikely pairing, a snake and a girl, one being as coarse as venom and the other as soft as velvet.

One fateful day, the two of you had paired up for an art project; you knew Hyunjin's expertise and your fantastic planning skills would get the job done quickly and precisely. Hyunjin had suggested you work on the project at his dorm, so that is exactly where you were headed, catching a couple of off-hand glances as you entered into the building.

You were given access to the building and quickly made your way to Hyunjin's room. You knocked a few times on his door, a plethora of colorful paints in your hand. He opened the door, and the sight that greeted your gaze shocked you: Hyunjin was shirtless, his emerald scales on display, shining under the luminescence of his ceiling light. He took out one earbud and smiled.

"Hey, give me just a minute to set up!" He closed the door gently, leaving you standing there in shock. You knew he was ethereal, but seeing him shirtless was a different tale entirely. You snapped out of your trance when the door reopened; Hyunjin was now in a grey hoodie, matching the color of his sweatpants. He invited you inside his lonesome room, closing the door swiftly behind you.

The next few hours were dedicated to your project; paper was splayed out on every surface with plans sketched on each one, paints of every color were opened and splattered onto a pallette, and those colors subsequently made their way onto the canvas, thanks to Hyunjin's skillfull brushstrokes.

Before you knew it, your project was finished; the prompt you were given was to draw something you thought was beautiful. The point of it all was to contrast every student's differing perspective on the subject. You had opted to paint a sunset, a basic approach but still effective; you had decided, in order to remove the simplicity of it, that would explain in the presentation why the sunset was beautiful. You would go beyond just the mixture of colors and bring in a bit of symbolism as to how the sunset ended the day, thus bringing beauty to a respective finale.

You felt great pride in the progress the both of you had made, and you stared intently at the painting; you were in awe of Hyunjin's talent, how he had made every shade of orange, pink, purple, and red blend together to create an exhilerating portrait. You focused on every intricate detail and how it all came together to make an incredulous scene.

"What are you thinking about, Pretty?" Hyunjin poked your arm with the handle end of the paintbrush; you quickly turned to face him, blushing from the nickname.

"Just how beautiful the painting is. I wish I could look that beautiful." you admitted.

"If you only knew," Hyunjin mumbled in a tone barely above a whisper. You heard what he had said, but you wanted to see if he would repeat it.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"Um," Hyunjin felt a lump caught in his throat; his forked tongue moved from side to side in his mouth from anxiety as he tried to explain himself. "I said I could make you pretty like the sunset."

"What?" Before you could receive a reply, Hyunjin dipped the brush he was holding into a glob of orange paint and smeared a streak of it across your forehead. The motion made you gasp before you bust out into giggles; Hyunjin's antics did not cease.

"Now we have to get the red. And the pink," he described as his faintly-clawed hands dipped the brush into each respective color and repeated the swiping motions; he proceeded to do the same with the purple and yellow paints.

"There," he put his brush down and clasped his hands together. "Now, you look like a sunset!" Hyunjin's fangs were loud and proud as he smiled down at you. Your thoughts were colliding together as you figured out a way to get your revenge.

Suddenly, you grabbed a wider brush and coated it with green paint.

"You know, now that I'm thinking about it, I don't think these scales are necessarily green enough," you lunged towards Hyunjin's collarbone; however, you missed entirely, instead meeting a pushed out hand from the male. The impact caused your brush to fleet backwards and land on your neck instead.

"Awe, you look cute with scales!" Hyunjin complimented sarcastically. You widened your eyes, a jolly glint sparkling under the artificial light. Without thinking, you tackled Hyunjin, landing you both backwards on the bed and smearing the array of paints on his grey hoodie. Hyunjin attempted to free himself from your grasp, hissing exuberantly in between fits of laughter; his attempts were for not as you grabbed both of his hands in one of yours, the scales lightly scuffing your palms.

You lifted his hands above his head and, taking the still-glazed brush, smeared lines of green from the top of his neck down to the indents of his collarbones. The ticklish sensation made him squirm and shut his eyes as he continued to giggle. You threw the paintbrush aside on his study desk and rubbed your hands together.

"There," you leaned down, eyeing Hyunjin as the two of you were almost nose-to-nose. "Now, we're even."

The two of you stayed in this position for a while, grins ever-so-present on your faces. Hyunjin took a long, admirable look at you; he looked at your fair skin, your sparkling eyes, and your snow-white smile.

He had concluded in that moment that you were the prettiest girl he had ever laid his amber gaze upon. Yet, an unanswered question still lingered in his head.

"Why were you staring at me on the first day of class?" he inquired, moving his hand up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, his claw slightly scratching your ear in the process. Your face flushed a deep shade of pink at the question.

"I thought," you mumbled. "I thought you were pretty. I didn't mean to offend, I swear. I just couldn't help myself."

"You think I'm pretty?" You nodded slowly.

"Beautiful, even."

He was not exactly sure what thought went through his head before his lips were on yours. Perhaps it was your sweet words alone. Perhaps it was the fact that you had attempted to move your head away from his out of embarrassment from your confession, and he had placed a firm yet soft hand in your hair to stop you. Perhaps it was the way you had looked at him after he did just that, a daring yet shy glint present in your stare. He was not for sure what had pushed him to this action.

He was sure that he wanted to kiss you.

So, here the two of you lie, you on top of Hyunjin as the two of you passionately encapsulated one another. Your hands were cupped tightly on his cheeks while his lightly hovered over your waist. His lips were everything you had imagined them to be; they were smooth, soft, and entranced you into a compassionate haze. His forked tongue teasingly poked at yours, and you felt his fangs accidentally nip at your bottom lip a couple of times. The kiss felt straight out of a 1990s romantic tragedy.

You were not aware of how much time had passed before you had pulled away to catch a breath; you felt the swell in your lips and you physically visualized Hyunjin's as he lay, breathless beneath you. Your arms moved slowly down to his chest, and your head fell to the crook of his neck. He moved one hand to your upper back, the other still gently entangled within your hair.

"Woah," was all you could utter at the moment in time. "Who knew snakes were such good kissers?" you jokingly asked, eliciting a soft chuckle from the Hybrid.

"We're romantics, what can I say?" Your heart was pounding as you looked at him beneath you, and his arms went to snake tightly around your middle, no pun intended.

"Y'know," you had regained your composure and began to chatter. "I wasn't sure about you at first. After all the stories I had heard, all the rumors and tales. Even after you had debunked them, there was still some sort of fear present within me," you confessed, mentally punching yourself as you saw Hyunjin's content expression falter.

"But you...you are so different than what I had imagined. You are the kindest person I've met. You're so gentle and gracious and sweet, and I feel absolutely horrible about the things that I believed, so I guess I'm just going about the long way to ap-" Hyunjin cut off your babling by tilting your head up to face him and capturing you another kiss; this one was shorter but filled with just as much care as the first.

"I get it, I like you too," Hyunjin mumbled against your lips.

"Who said I was going to say that?"

"Am I wrong?" He teasingly asked, looking at you and tilting his head in perplexity.

"Not at all," you confessed.

"I wasn't sure about you either, if it makes you feel any better," Hyunjin admitted. "I thought this was just an act and was going to play out into some sort of cruel prank. But having you here, right here right now with me proves me wrong. You're different than the others. I actually like being around you. I just never wanted to say anything in fear that my deepest worries would materialize and I would lose you as a friend."

"Glad to know the feeling is mutual," you softly spoke. "The only thing is I want to lose you as a friend." Hyunjin shifted his head backwards in indecision.

"NOT like that," you clarified. "I don't want to lose you by any means. I just," you took one of his scaley hands in your smooth ones, "want to gain you as something more than a friend, if that's possible." Hyunjin instinctively rubbed his thumb over your knuckles as his golden gaze affectionately made contact with your own.

"You sure?" he inquired, a playful smirk etched onto his features. "What if people talk?"

"Let them," you responded without hesitation. "Who knows, maybe we can start some sort of shift and people will see that Snake Hybrids and humans interacting isn't so horrible." Hyunjin could not help but beam at your confession. He nodded tenderly.

"Alright. Let's try this," he accepted your heartfelt declaration, causing you to grin wide like the Cheshire Cat. You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him in for a tight hug that you never wanted to end.

Thus, the snake venom was adoringly stained onto the velvet cloth, joining them together as one futuristic reality.

[sollers-college]

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[crisiscutie]

Some dynamics? 👀...

Pairing: 🕵️Turk Vincent Valentine/Fem! Intern Darling👩‍🔬

Content Warning: Long bullet points? Drama?

༻❁༺ Working for Lucrecia Crescent had been an interesting experience for you... She was a nice lady, MOST of the time. But she had such high expectations for you. Better than being directly under Hojo, at least.

༻❁༺ Rent in Sector 0 was obscenely high. Going into this paid internship helped paid off SOME debts and put food on your table, but it wasn't enough.

༻❁༺ You were just damn an intern. Formerly a paper pusher for Shinra's shitty science department.

༻❁༺ You suspected that something had happened with Lucrecia's past research and experiments, but she never said it outright. Instead, she made you just do busy work on minor tasks, such as fetching samples or sorting through documents.

༻❁༺ You know they were working on something called the "JENOVA project" but yet again, Lucrecia wouldn't tell you much.

༻❁༺ Lucrecia had a particular dislike for you interacting with the Turk bodyguard assigned to protect you both.

༻❁༺ Which you never understood, since Vincent seemed so different from everyone else. He wasn't like the other Turks.

༻❁༺ His concern for you went beyond his professional obligation - he truly cared about your well-being.

༻❁༺ You didn't have any known family OR friends in this shitty department, so he was the only one willing to lend you an ear to vent. Whether it's about Lucrecia's mood swings, your exhausted ness or Hojo being an asshole, he was there for you.

༻❁༺ It took you a while to open up to Vincent about a game you loved to play as a child and even now in your late teens: Queen's Blood.

༻❁༺ You didn't think he'd like it but he became hooked on it as you taught him how to play it. Playing friendly games against the other became one of your favorite pastimes with him.

༻❁༺ You always felt bad about relying on him, but for Vincent, he never minded. He loved spending time with you. Hearing your voice. He also felt isolated from everyone and everything after Lucrecia distanced herself from him. You found a kindred spirit in him.

༻❁༺ He kept you as close as he could. And whenever he saw you were falling behind on your sleep schedule or overworking yourself, he never hesitated to confront you about it. You needed your rest.

༻❁༺ Because of him, you started to push back at Lucrecia at times. You wanted to stop being left in the dark. You wanted to know what you're doing.

༻❁༺ No way is he going to let someone else he cared about fall victim to this damned project.

༻❁༺ And Lucrecia could never tell you why she wanted you to keep your distance from Vincent.

༻❁༺ Strangely enough, there were times she encouraged you two to get closer. In fact, she even suggested that you take Vincent out on a picnic. And you both actually did, but it was at night.

 ༻❁༺ During the picnic, you leaned on Vincent's shoulder as the two of you watched the lively lights from Nibelheim on Mt. Nibel. In that moment, you opened up to Vincent about your dreams of running off into the countryside and living out your days in peace, away from the clutches of Shinra.

 ༻❁༺ He gave your hand a gentle squeeze and tells you that your dreams are possible. ...And he'll help you achieve them, no matter how long it'd take for you to get into the right financial position to do so.

 ༻❁༺ You two talked more and more about it in the following days. And you even told him you wanted him to come along. He had some doubts, but being with you was more important. Despite having some doubts, he realized that being with you was of greater importance.

༻❁༺ Though, you were talked into becoming a surrogate mother for Lucrecia's and Hojo's child. They assured you that you would be taken care of and handsomely rewarded for it. Despite being young and just starting out in your adult life, you saw this as an opportunity to save enough money to run away with Vincent…

༻❁༺ You were so hesitant about it because you were young and just starting out in your adult life, but it meant you could save enough money to run away with Vincent when the time came...

༻❁༺ Lucrecia and Hojo pressed you more about it.. and you ended up caving in.

༻❁༺ You eventually told Vincent about the surrogate pregnancy, even though you didn't want to worry him even more about you. You stayed tough about it.

༻❁༺ But he knew you were suffering. You couldn't hide the immense pains. The sudden bouts of illness from him. It infuriated him, but your wellbeing was more important than anything.

༻❁༺ He told finally told you about the JENOVA project and why you were used as a surrogate mother. It sickened you to no end. You couldn't believe that your mentor was experimenting on her own child (and you, to a lesser extent) in the name of science.

༻❁༺ But hope wasn't lost. He convinced you that you two had the chance to make things right. Give the unborn child a normal life in spite of the terrible experiments done on them.

༻❁༺ You two talked and talked about your plans together and for the child. Maybe even living as a family in Mideel...

༻❁༺ Unlike your intern salary, Vincent had great earnings since he was a Turk. He carefully saved as much gill he could to make your dreams come true.

This was sitting in my drafts and was based on the last Vincent prompt I did.

[mariacallous]

Earlier this week, at the Auburn Avenue Research Library in Atlanta, a couple dozen fellows commenced a year-long project designed to put the mission of preserving Black history back in the hands of community members.

“We want to open up a conversation asking, ‘What does it look like for a community of Black people to come together and decide what to collect?’” says Makiba Foster, cofounder of the Web Archiving School (WARC), a new training program that teaches practitioners methods of digital preservation built around an “ethic of care.”

“We don’t want to depend on institutions for folks to have these kinds of skills. They will backtrack on us when it’s beneficial to them.”

WARC could not have arrived at a more urgent moment. Since taking office in January, President Donald Trump has targeted diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) aggressively and vowed to fight “anti-white” racism. He first signed an executive order to end “radical and wasteful” diverse hiring practices in federal agencies, then followed that with another aimed squarely at DEI programs in the private sector. But it didn’t stop there. In March, Trump signed an executive order accusing the Smithsonian Institution of having “come under the influence of a divisive, race-centered ideology.” Taken together, the proclamations are part of the administration’s broader attempt to sanitize so-called “woke ideology” from the annals of American life and “forge a society that is color-blind and merit based.” But not everyone views it that way.

“There is an attempt at dehumanization happening,” Bergis Jules, an archivist and WARC cofounder says. “The first act of taking away someone’s humanity is denying the fact that you have a history. And if you’re trying to take that away, then you don’t believe those people need to exist.”

WARC’s inaugural class—22 fellows whose backgrounds span everything from research and library science to visual and audio art—are training to become the next generation of Black “memory workers” with the right tools to digitally preserve the histories that are important to them. As many agencies, public and private, have quickly fallen in line with Trump’s orders, Foster says she’s not going to rely on legacy institutions to do that important work.

“When it's time to make a statement around DEI, and it’s a bandwagon thing, it’s cool. But when the rubber meets the road and someone's telling you can’t do this, people quickly turn,” she says.

WARC is the flagship program of the Archiving the Black Web collective that Foster and Jules started in 2019, inspired in part by their work documenting the Black Lives Matter movement.

Their efforts come as scholars are sounding the alarm over Trump’s latest war on museums—and history itself. “In this naive effort to control how the past is recorded and interpreted, the Trump administration has stepped into a minefield,” David Blight, president of the Organization of American Historians, wrote in The New York Times.

In March, a biography about baseball hall-of-famer Jackie Robinson was removed from the Nimitz Library in the US Naval Academy, along with 400 books tied to DEI. The following month, the National Park Service removed references to Harriet Tubman’s role in fighting against enslavement on a webpage; that information has since been restored. In the executive order targeting the Smithsonian network of museums, Trump calls out, “The Shape of Power: Stories of Race and American Sculpture,” an exhibit at the American Art Museum, as part of a so-called coordinated effort to “portray American and Western values as inherently harmful and oppressive.”

Meredith D. Clark, a professor of race and political communication at UNC-Chapel Hill, tells WIRED that museums are akin to “public trusts,” and the Trump administration’s assault on them is an attempt to dictate who does and doesn’t belong.

“One of the things that power needs to do in order to expand and conquer is to convince people that there is no hope in resistance. And a tool for doing that is to destroy heritage,” says Clark, who wrote We Tried to Tell Y’all: Black Twitter and the Rise of Digital Counternarratives. “You can see those patterns everywhere, from the Holocaust and the burning of books to, in more recent years, the destruction of historical reservoirs and artifacts in Syria.”

Even though they can be a cesspool of racism and bigotry, social media platforms, from X to TikTok, are now de facto outlets for resistance as digital media has become the primary mode of communication. As facts get easier to manipulate thanks to AI and lack of moderation, information—and our access to it—becomes even more vital. One way online activists and educators have traditionally fought back is through the creation of crowdsourced syllabi recommending resources around issues of police abuse, white supremacy, and race for educators.

“We saw it with Ferguson and Charlottesville,” Clark says of the Twitter campaigns from 2014, following the killing of unarmed Black teenager Michael Brown by police, and 2017, in the wake of the Unite the Right rally where violent protests broke out and a white supremacist murdered a woman with his car.

Foster says the country underwent a “pedagogical shift” during this time.

“Black people were saying that ignorance is no longer a defense. Folks were publishing reading lists, opening up their syllabi. All of a sudden you could educate yourself on these issues, and I wanted to document that,” Foster says. “When it comes to preserving an official record, they typically don’t care what we think,” she says of large, often federally backed institutions, which is why social media has become crucial.

The National Libraries and the Internet Archive were, for a time, the principal institutions dedicated to cataloging the web. But “only a small set of people were involved in that community,” Jules says, “and Black folks studying to be archivists were not invited to those networks.”

A nonprofit that launched in 1996, the Internet Archive operates as a library of sorts: It includes 835 billion web pages, 44 million books and texts, and 15 million audio recordings, in addition to other artifacts. Many people today think of it as the web’s collective memory. In April, the Internet Archive, which was already facing legal troubles in separate cases from Universal Music Group and the book publisher Hachette, was targeted by Elon Musk’s Department of Government Efficiency when the agency cut funding for the National Endowment for the Humanities, which supports the archive.

In spite of the administration's purge, Rudy Fraser, the creator of Blacksky, says he is “heartened by preservation efforts” he’s seen so far, including from Harvard Law Library’s Innovation Lab—which is rescuing federal datasets—and companies such as Joy Media, which leverage AI and VR/AR to scan and annotate African artifacts, making them accessible to people on the continent who otherwise can’t view them.

In 2023, Fraser launched Blacksky, the custom feed and moderation service that quickly turned into the central meeting ground for many Black users on Bluesky. He tells me he also views Blacksky as a living archive. Currently its database holds 17 million posts from Black users over the last two years (excluding deletions and moderation removals). “Because the AT Protocol is public and Blacksky’s implementation is open source, anyone with the technical chops could reconstruct the dataset—minus moderation actions—even if our primary databases disappeared,” he says. “Open source, decentralized tooling ensures that, if any single company becomes a nation-state target, the communities that rely on its infrastructure can keep operating.”

Preservation efforts have also taken the form of rogue civil rights courses across college campuses. When Washington Post columnist Karen Attiah’s course on race, media and global history was discontinued by Columbia University in April, Attiah decided to “liberate my teaching work” by hosting it as an online course, aptly rebranding it “Resistance Summer School.”

“This is not the time for media literacy or historical knowledge to be held hostage by institutions bending the knee to authoritarianism and fear,” she wrote on her Substack. The outpouring of support was seismic. According to Attiah, within 48 hours, all 500 seats were filled; the waiting list currently has over 3,000 people on it.

It is still too soon to say just how much of a long-term impact Trump’s attack on Black history is going to have on our population's historical literacy, but Foster and Jules say they are not deterred by the work ahead of them.

“What does it mean for the federal government, at this moment, to be stewards of Black people’s history? It only takes the stroke of a pen to start dismantling things. So what does that mean looking forward?” Jules says.

Ultimately, road maps to a better future are impossible without grassroots preservation efforts, Clark says. “The destruction of those histories and records makes it harder for people to remember what that progress looked like. Both its successes and its failures. And it makes it harder for people to imagine what continued progress could look like. That is the whole point.”

[oros-ash3s]

─ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ CHARACTER BIO ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ ─

.….⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅…..

“Death must be so beautiful.

To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one’s head, and listen to silence.

To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace.”

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Oscar Wilde, The Canterville Ghost

.….⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅…..

⚖️𓇢𓆸 BASICS ୧ ‧₊˚ ♟️

Name || Fukenaga Ryuji

⁀➴༯ Name meaning || Ryuji is a Japanese name that means “double dragon”. It was popularized through the character Ryu in the iconic video game Street Fighter.

Nicknames || Ryū (Kageko)

Age || 18 years old

Birthdate || January 4th (Capricorn)

Gender and Pronouns || Cisgender (he/him)

Sexuality || Bisexual Polyamorous

Ethnicity || Japanese, Moroccan

Classification || Immortai

Occupation || Belongs to the Seventh Sector of the Division. He works at a low rank and mostly goes on patrol missions.

Role || Main character, hero

.….⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅…..

⚖️𓇢𓆸 PERSONALITY ୧ ‧₊˚ ♟️

Ryuji is a person that is misunderstood by many.

Although not actively attempting to be so, he is very unnerving and intimidating to be around, an after-effect of the curse that's been placed upon him. He can be easily distracted in conversations, eyes always focusing somewhere else, darting to the darkened corners of the room, and he has a habit to mumble little things to himself, nonsensical and hushed, as if trying to be discreet. Not to mention the aura of death that surrounds him at all times, chilling the atmosphere around him, making it almost impossible to hang out with him peacefully. Most people just write him off entirely, saying the boy is too "weird" or "creepy" to handle.

But Ryuji at his core truly is a kind and caring person. Although he has a rough and tough exterior, tending to be very blunt and cold with his words, once you get to know him on a closer level, it's clear that he cares very deeply about many things. He's thoughtful and considerate, always going out of his way for others that he loves, doing just the smallest little gestures of kindness.

Yet despite his gentle nature, he has been hardened by the cruel realities of their world. He doesn't trust easily, holding all those that dare come close at arms length. He is sharp and quick-witted, and tends to neglect things like socializing and talking in favour of training or studying. He can also be very quick to anger, snapping at what can be assumed to be just the littlest of things, which oftentimes leaves him isolated from others.

He truly has created a self-fulfilling prophecy; afraid to let those near him to get too close, too closed off for those near to allow themselves to do the same.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍇 ⋅ ☆

Ryuji has been stuck at the Sector for twelve long, torturous years. Despite training for almost all of his life, honing his abilities and skills to near-perfection, for some reason the boy can’t seem to be allowed along any sort of mission that fits his skillset. He is held back, for apparently no reason at all, each of his requests for a promotion sharply turned down by the Leader of the Seventh Sector, Ophelia Dyal.

He is restless, unable to complete his mission as a Noroi Hunter and vanquish the very demon that set his life on such a path of death and destruction. No matter how hard he tries, it seems he cannot escape this horrible fate that has awaited him since he was six years old.

And yet, with the stirrings of a new hero to change it all, Ryuji is brought closer to his life-long dream of breaking his curse. It is with each day that he draws nearer to coming face to face with the very person he has avoided for so long, that he wonders if he’s strong enough to go through with it…..

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍇 ⋅ ☆

Traits || Mysterious, calculative, quiet, hard-working, tough with a hard exterior

Alignment || Neutral

Likes || Science, nature, botany, sketching, being alone, rain, the library, candles

Dislikes || Noroi, training, sleeping, people, talking, big crowds, being too busy, ghosts, his family, most things, himself, life in general

Hobbies || Reading, alchemy, studying, drawing, researching, microbiology, journaling

…..⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅…..

⚖️𓇢𓆸 APPEARANCE ୧ ‧₊˚ ♟️

Ryuji is most notably defined by his Mark. Taking up the entire right side of his face, a burn scar stretches across his skin, marring his features; his eye has also suffered extreme damage, appearing to be half-closed, a milky white in colour with splotches of red nearing its edges. And his flesh looks to be pulled taught, a darker brown than the rest of his face, the skin decayed and withered.

And still, the boy couldn’t be more beautiful. With a sharp jaw, smooth dark skin the deepest shade of brown, and a black-lined monolid eye a deep charcoal in colour, swirling like the deep abyss of the night, he looks truly ethereal. His hair is shoulder-length, normally pulled into a half-up, half-down style. The right portion of his locs have begun to turn a silvery-white colour. He can also frequently be seen with silver filigree tubes adorning the locs. Dark, blackened eye bags are present underneath his eyes, giving him an appearance of being eternally exhausted.

Evident of his strict training schedule, Ryuji has a very muscular build. He’s lean with toned muscles. Not exactly bulging like a bodybuilder, yet still quite noticeably muscular, something you would notice almost immediately. Along with his towering height and strong build, it just seems to add to his aura of intimidation.

Height || 6’0”

Aesthetic || Ryuji dresses very prim and proper. With a dark aesthetic of browns, dark grays, and black, he can almost always be found in a suit or something similar. It’s very formal clothing, something that sets him apart from the rest of the sector, giving him an almost distinguished look. But it’s most times that his clothes are also in a rumpled disarray, obviously very hastily pulled on. He dislikes wearing a lot of jewelry, as he says it irritates his skin.

…..⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅…..

⚖️𓇢𓆸 ORIGINS ୧ ‧₊˚ ♟️

Ryuji was born to the seventh region of Seras, otherwise known as the home to the Seventh Sector. Eposa, a land akin to the Mediterranean, was once beautifully rich. Long rolling hills, thriving plant life, and a sparkling, deep green ocean bordering it, white waves lapping near the beaches. It was also known for its impressive architecture, stunning marble buildings that just completed the vision of ethereal glory that the region once was. But with the rise of Noroi, the region has been reduced to a crumbling whisper of the society it once was. Barren and cold, the grassy hills have become more blackened rock than grass, the sea dark and murky, completely unforgiving to all its inhabitants. It’s become a place of poverty and death — not riches and wealth.

Ryuji’s family was small, unimportant in the grand scheme of things. His mother was an orphan, who didn’t have much to her name. She worked all kinds of odd jobs, doing anything to provide for her children, even if it meant losing parts of herself in the process. She’d do it all, as long as it meant they had food on the table at the end of every night. They moved around a lot during Ryuji’s early life, finally settling on a small cabin at the edge of the woods, where they kept their own self-sustaining garden and strayed away from the people of the town next over. It was just them against the universe.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍇 ⋅ ☆

Ryuji’s life was never truly calm, even as a small child. With only smaller, distinct memories of his father, most of his childhood was spent with his single mother and his siblings. She kept them mostly isolated, constantly hopping from town to town, doing what she needed to get by. That time of his life was a blur, his only strong memories being that of his time with his twin brother — his best friend — who he was immensely grateful for as his lifelong companion. Being on the run was more fun with him by his side.

It was around the time he and his twin brother turned five-years-old that their mother finally decided it was safe enough for them to settle down. They found a cabin that bordered on the edge of one of the abandoned woodlands in the far south of Eposa. With a small town to their right, it seemed like the perfect place to grow up. Homeschooled by their mother during the day, with their eldest sister to take care of them during the nights, their life finally had some sort of semblance of balance to it. Ryuji felt truly happy. His family was all that he needed.

It was on a darkened winter night of his sixth year that Ryuji and his twin brother lay awake, waiting for their mother to return home late. And it was this very night that another creature entirely lurked outside the walls of their cabin, ready to tear away the peaceful life Ryuji had grown to hold so dearly……

…..⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅…..

𝙈𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙙, 𝙨𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙪𝙡𝙛𝙪𝙧 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙞𝙧 / 𝘽𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙘𝙝'𝙨 𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙧 / 𝙈𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙖 𝙙𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙧 / 𝙇𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙙 / 𝙎𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙤𝙣𝙙 / 𝙇𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙨𝙥𝙖𝙬𝙣, 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙…

“Séance” by Billy Cobb

…..⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅…..

⚖️𓇢𓆸 RELATIONSHIPS ୧ ‧₊˚ ♟️

Father unknown

Naô Fukenaga, mother

Hinata Fukenaga, eldest daughter

?????? Fukenaga, eldest son

Ryuji Fukenaga, himself

Kenzo Fukenaga, middle son

Saku Fukenaga, youngest daughter

Junpei Fukenaga, youngest son

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍇 ⋅ ☆

Being the second-eldest to five children, Ryuji comes from quite the large family, despite everything. Being so young when he lost them, his memories of them are short, simple. He remembers the time of his life with them as gentle and carefree. He and his siblings were all incredibly close, each day spent playing with each other. But out of them all, he was closest with his twin brother, who couldn’t be more alike him. They seemed to be linked to a single mind, always attached at the hip. There was nowhere Ryuji would go where his brother couldn’t be closely behind, grinning and chasing after him.

Since being taken into the Seventh Sector, the size of his family has dramatically decreased. He no longer has the giggles of children to surround him anymore, his home at the base being quite quiet and lonely, for the most part. Of course, he has his mother, Ophelia, who he’s very close with. She always seems to know just what he needs, giving him silence and space when the world is too suffocating, and comfort and hushed reassurances when the voices threaten to pull him from reality altogether. He loves her dearly, despite the times where he feels frustrated and resentful that she’s so protective over him. He doesn’t know where he’d be without her at his side.

And of course he has Aster, his older brother and best friend. He was the first person that Ryuji truly met when he arrived at the Seventh Sector, and the first person who showed him genuine kindness. They did almost everything together, two peas in a pod, always there for each other. Ryuji thinks Aster pulled him out from the other side, after he arrived at the base. He doesn’t know if he’d still be alive if he didn’t have Aster’s kindness and sunny disposition to ward off the hateful voices and spirits that haunted him. Even apart, the boys couldn’t be more close. No stretch of land, no matter how many miles long, could break their tight knit bond.

And there’s Kageko. Someone who was born to be his best friend, he is now no more than a reminder of Ryuji’s past, of his grief. A spiteful ghost that never seems to shut up, no matter how much Ryuji wills him to, he’s more of a nuisance than a true companion. Yet, being a part of Ryuji for so long, the boy isn’t sure what he’d do without Kageko. Torn between the urge to get rid of him and never let him go, he’s not sure who he is without his twin brother to drive all of his actions. He doesn’t know if he is even more than a hollow shell, without Kageko to fill the gaping hole.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍇 ⋅ ☆

As for friends, Ryuji doesn’t have many. Having a reputation for being the “weird heir that talks to ghosts all day”, it’s hard for him to truly connect with people. Though, it’s not like he’s particularly interested in meeting new people in the first place. Being on his own is better. He is more content this way. It’s supposed to be this way.

Yet somehow, he found himself two of the best friends he could ever hope for. Odesa and Dior, who are sometimes the only people he has left to tether him to the ground, couldn’t be truer friends. Odesa is loud and rambunctious, a drastic contrast to Ryuji, and the first friend he made at the base. A girl who he at first would have declared was his sworn rival has now become the person he’d dare whisper all his darkest secrets to. Both of them compliment each other, turning the others harsh edges soft, rounding each other out. They’ve sworn an oath to get out of the Seventh Sector, together, no one left behind. Ryuji will fight by Odesa’s side until the day he dies.

Dior was someone Ryuji met when he was a little older. Quiet and timid, they managed to pull out his more gentle, nurturing side. From two people who could almost be considered selectively mute on some days, when they’re together they couldn’t be more of a chatterbox. Dior seems to understand him, to truly accept him. Where others have found him ghostly and disturbing, Dior sees him just the way he is. And he couldn’t ask for more.

…..⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅…..

⚖️𓇢𓆸 THE SEVENTH SECTOR ୧ ˚ ♟️

Curse || Ghost

Ryuji, just like Aster, belongs to the Immortai: the undead warriors that dedicate their lives to eradicating the Noroi that ravage their earth. Although not uncommon inside the Seventh Sector, Ryuji was cursed as a child, leaving him, like many, in the awkward stage of a child forced to grow too quickly, grief burdening him all throughout it.

Ryuji’s curse is very ostracized around the Sector, a large factor into why he is so alone amongst so many hunters that have so many similarities to him. He has the ability to see and communicate with ghosts and spirits, as well as control them to defeat Noroi. This in turn causes his body to lose connection with the living world, slowly causing him to lose his form, until he is reduced to another ghost himself. It’s source stems from Ryuji’s scar on his face, which is where his Mageia rests.

Ryuji has very little control over his own curse. He despises it deeply, wishing to completely rid it from himself rather than use it. It doesn’t help that Kageko’s voice is constantly in his head, poking and prodding at him, unhelpfully reminding him of each and every one of his failures and losses. It is because his curse takes such a toll not only on his physical form but his mind, being a constant that he cannot shut off, unlike some Immortai, that makes him hate it even more. And it is his hatred and uncontrollable emotions that just feeds his curse, amplifying it to the extreme. The spirits that haunt Ryuji never go away, no matter how hard he tries to gain control over them.

Because of his lackluster abilities in containing his curse, Ryuji has instead forced all of his own energy into his swordsmanship. He uses twin Thai-Laos Dhaab swords, otherwise known as “Dha”. He is extremely skilled with his weapon, his own swords being specially crafted to suit his curse, and is known as the best swordsman inside the entire Seventh Sector. It truly is a surprise that he’s kept at a rank so low, with skills like this. Surely being out on the battlefield would benefit the whole of the Division much more than keeping him as a guard, but the Leader works in mysterious ways.

For now, Ryuji is stuck in his lowly position at the base, as ghosts chatter in his ears and he tries his best not to scare off the younger recruits. He trains, and trains, and trains. One day, he will be rewarded for his hard work. And the words of a vengeful spirit punishing him for all his failings won’t matter anymore.

…..⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅…..

⚖️𓇢𓆸 EXTRA TIDBITS ୧ ‧₊˚ ♟️

Ryuji is secretly quite a hopeless romantic. He’s read a lot of romance books and has forbidden dreams of a soft, picturesque summer romance with candlelit dates and quiet nights gazing at the stars.

He’s very knowledgeable on flowers and plants, and can list quite a wide arrange of facts off the top of his head.

He has a really intimidating aura so most people steer clear of him but in actuality he’s really socially awkward and has no clue how to talk to people.

He dislikes the idea of the Division quite a lot and wishes he could leave it forever. Yet it seems like his only option, so he stays.

People think him to be very violent when really he’s the exact opposite of it.

He works part-time inside of the Infirmary, which is where he met Dior.

He has the tendency to forget to take care of himself. Sometimes he gets so caught up in training, studying, or researching that he’ll go days without really sleeping, eating, bathing, or moving. It gets worse when Aster is more busy on missions and he has no one to pull him out of his head.

He doesn’t get along with animals.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍇 ⋅ ☆

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[getvalentined]

Worst FF7 takes I've seen on the subreddit today:

Hojo impregnated Lucrecia via artificial insemination, they were never in a relationship, they didn't even like each other. (Canon: Hojo and Lucrecia were married.)

Gast had a conscience at the end of his life and that means that nothing he did was reprehensible because he felt bad about it. (Canon: Gast is never actually shown feeling bad about what he did, and when he found out that Jenova wasn't a Cetra he ran off with Ifalna and knocked her up to make a real human/Cetra hybrid instead, leaving the monster child he'd been tending to for 5-6 years with a man he knew to be a butcher.)

Barret is the most evil character in the series because he knew blowing up the reactors would kill people and that's unacceptable. (Canon: Barret definitely knew this, but how is killing a hundred-odd people in a bombing worse than President Shinra dropping the Sector 7 plate and killing hundreds of thousands, or anyone in the science department literally torturing people and experimenting on babies? I think this might be the racism jumping out.)

Rufus wanted to kill his father for the greater good. (Canon: Rufus wanted to kill his father because he was abusive and Rufus hated him and Rufus wanted what he was owed, which he believed was the entire fucking world.)

ADDING ON A NEW CONTENDER: Gast experimenting on everyone from research assistants to babies isn't proven lore because the wiki doesn't say it in those words, and even if he did it's not evil because he showed remorse by running away when he found out Jenova wasn't a Cetra. (Canon: DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND THAT BEING IN CHARGE OF A SCIENTIFIC RESEARCH PROJECT BASED AROUND A SINGLE EXPERIMENT MEANS YOU APPROVED AND WORKED ON THE EXPERIMENT INVOLVED? DO I NEED TO EXPLAIN WHY EXPERIMENTING ON CHILDREN IS EVIL? DO YOU NEED SOME HELP UNDERSTANDING THAT GUILT DOESN'T MEAN A DAMN THING IF YOU TAKE NO STEPS TO REPAIR THE DAMAGE YOU CAUSED? ARE YOU FUCKING SHITTING ME?!)

I am constantly baffled by the lack of narrative comprehension in this fandom.