getting scambot messages from random accounts that clearly used to be normal active blogs is sad enough. you know that there used to be a real person on that blog until they were tricked into handing their password to the digital fae.
but it's an entirely new level of tragic when somebody you've actually spoken to gets turned into a bot account. it's like peeking at a zombie apocalypse through the window and realizing one of the shambling corpses was your friend.
and then the zombie catches sight of you, lurches up to your window, and shouts through the glass that they accidentally reported your account to tumblr and you'll be deactivated unless you click this link.
RIP to the blog that used to DM me to tell me they liked my new chapters. Their last known words spoken before being turned, 17 hours ago: "Ggs!" They were praising someone's deadlift.
the message they tried to get me with is probably the same message that got them, so for anybody who hasn't already been warned about the signs of a zombie account:
if you get something like this ↑ they're gonna follow up by instructing you to contact tumblr support on discord and give you contact info; or they're gonna link a website that looks sort of like tumblr support and say you have to email them; or any variety of "you must now contact tumblr, here is how you contact tumblr."
whatever they send you, it Does Not lead to tumblr. it leads to the master zombie that bit them and inducted them into the ranks of the undead, and will bite you the second they have your email and password. i might be confusing zombies and vampires. anyway,
it's easier to fall for these messages because the blog doesn't LOOK like a bot blog, because it ISN'T a bot blog. it's a normal person's blog that got accessed by a bot, meaning the blog's content CLEARLY looks like a real active user when you click on it. and yes—it might even be a blog you already know. sometimes bots like this go down a blog's DMs or reblogs and message people they've previously interacted with.
they got one of my treasured followers, and they can get you too. don't fall for their tricks. know the signs.
#the fact that 'can prove access to an online account at least 12 years old' or even 'account to be verified is itself fully 18 years old'#AREN'T accepted methods of age verification is such a telling sign of what the real purpose of age-gating laws is:#data harvesting and deanonymization and the buildout of state-controllable ways to restrict both content and internet access itself en masse (via @shinelikethunder )
trans women and trans men and nonbinary people and everyone else being friends and holding each other close and falling in love and thinking of each other. I'm making this my future. let's all be okay together
Happy Pride Month everyone! Remember 4 months ago when the CEO of this platform harassed and chased a trans woman off this website just for posting her transition timeline, then chased her to other social media platforms to continue harassing her, and threatened to call the FBI if she continued disputing the multiple dubious terminations of her blogs that did not violate tumblr's terms of service in any way? And despite tumblr staff insisting that the CEO was acting against their interests, the broad transmisogyny evident in the site's culture and moderation policy has still not been adequately addressed?
Remember that staff is continuing to nuke the blogs of trans women even after all of this. Remember this post when they call this site the queerest place on the internet again this month
The first night in the party’s shared tent right out of Junon, Yuffie had to keep herself from giggling and kicking her feet.
A party of seven whole suckers—all of ’em just loaded with Materia and conveniently already going after Shinra. And they were hunting for something called Huge Materia! Yuffie didn’t know exactly what that was, but it had to be good. She couldn’t believe her luck. All she had to do was bide her time until she could make off with their Materia and then it would be a straight shot down to Free-Wutai-ville.
It really was a shame that they were all such miserable pills.
Tifa was the best—or, maybe, the least worst—of the bunch. She was nice enough, a spectacular fighter and close in age to Yuffie, but acted like she had decades on her, which was kinda lame. But she was the only one who ever bothered to ask Yuffie how she was doing, how she was settling in, if she needed anything. She did the same for everyone, even though Yuffie thought it was unfair that it fell on her when there were grown-ass adults in the group. Like, middle-aged grown-ass adults—not that Yuffie knew exactly how old Barret and Cid were, but it was pretty obvious.
Anyway, as lame as it was for Tifa to mother-hen everyone, she was better when she did than when she didn’t. Most days there came a moment when they all had time to relax, maybe after dinner but before going to bed, or while they waited for something, when nobody really needed anything from Tifa. And that was the exact moment Yuffie watched her shrivel up. She retreated to the side lines, looking small and unsure on her feet like she’d gone from mother hen to lost duckling—yeah, changing species with how sharp the change was. Her wine-red eyes darted around the group, apprehensively looking for something. Whatever it was, she never seemed to find it and her gaze inevitably dropped to her hands in her lap, pensive and forlorn.
Once or twice, Yuffie had tried joining her, even if just out of boredom, but she always found an impenetrable wall of strained pleasantries and polite chuckles at Yuffie’s hilarious jokes. Well, she knew where she wasn’t wanted. If Tifa wanted to brood by herself in the evening, she could go knock herself out.
Barret’s main redeeming quality was his burning hatred for Shinra. Yuffie could certainly relate to that. And, hey, at least he wasn’t quiet about it. His rants and outbursts were a welcome change of pace from the gloomy torpor of the rest of the group. He and Yuffie were the only ones who ever seemed to raise their voices at all, with all of their attempts to rile up the others falling on unenthusiastic ears. And, like, Yuffie knew they were all invested in their mission—she’d seen them all in a fight, after all—but where was the passion? The righteous anger? Barret was the only one whose blood still ran hot.
Maybe too hot. Because the man never really talked about anything else. And, yeah, Yuffie hated Shinra just as much if not more, but she had other interests too! Like Materia, or Chocobos, or Huge Materia—whatever it was. But Barret only had one setting: ‘fuck Shinra.’ And hell yeah, fuck Shinra, but did he ever turn that off? It was like his hatred for the company was a glass vase he held in both hands—if he ever let go, it’d shatter. Or maybe he would. He only ever relaxed around Tifa, when he’d help her with the cooking and both of them would let some tension leave their shoulders as they quietly worked side by side.
Other than the objectively correct Shinra hatred, Barret was kind of unbearable. Tense, short-tempered, bossy, preachy, single-minded. Once, Yuffie had tried asking Tifa how they tolerated it, only to get a frown and a don’t be mean in response. Yuffie wasn’t trying to be mean, honest, she just wanted to know what the hell was up with that guy. There was something… unspoken about him. Something he was holding back, no matter how much she asked and poked and prodded. Something that made it a coin toss to even breach the issue, where the results were either explosive anger or gloom.
It had taken three full days for Yuffie to realise that the red-furred cat-dog-lion-thing could talk. She’d honestly assumed he was a pet, probably Cloud’s or Tifa’s given how much time he spent around them. But no, Red—or Nanaki, but he didn’t seem to like it much when she called him that—could talk. He just wouldn’t, most of the time. When he did, he was formal and distant, like he was a billion years old and far above the struggles of humans. But then, Yuffie would see him wander up to Tifa in the evening and let her bury her face in his fur. Or maybe he’d nudge Cid’s leg while he worked on something and the man would stop in his tracks and take a deep breath. Or he’d join Cloud as he invariably took first watch at night.
But those were fleeting moments; most of the time, Red kept a steady pace at the group’s front, with his tail grimly swishing behind him. Sometimes, as the moon rose in the evening, he’d find some higher ground and sit for a while in silent contemplation. With Yuffie, when he finally deigned to speak to her, he was curt and formal, utilitarian at best. She would ask him about his home in Cosmo Canyon—and about all the cool Materia a bunch of Planetologists were sure to be hoarding—and get monosyllables and grunts in response. Whenever he iced her out like that, Yuffie looked at the glint cast by the Materia slotted in his collar and remembered her purpose.
The group’s resident mechanic, Cid, made Yuffie think that he’d been much livelier once. There was a trace of gruff humour in him that felt like an obligation, like a shadow of what it used to be. Whenever they weren’t marching or fighting or hiding from Shinra, Cid was tinkering with something and muttering under his breath. Never still, never quiet, never not smoking. The smell followed him everywhere, and it was starting to seep into Yuffie’s hair and clothes as well, much like the general air of gloom.
Cid wasn’t hostile or irritable with her, but that wasn’t saying much. He spoke as if he was on autopilot, like he was reading out lines written by somebody else. Every once in a while, he would shake his head and straighten up, then clap Vincent on his shoulder or ruffle Cloud’s hair or respond in kind to Barret’s pep-talks—but he would do it mechanically, like it didn’t come naturally anymore. And the icy glares he received in return were enough to make him drop the act. He seemed relieved anyway.
Yuffie resented the fact that a talking cat robot riding a giant stuffed Moogle—also a robot—wasn’t any fun at all either. Cait Sith was the first party member she’d tried to approach once the general vibes had caught up with her, only to find him already turned off for the night while everyone else was just starting to eat dinner. He was switched off most of the time, actually, only really coming around whenever they were on the move or if there was a fight on the horizon. Yuffie had no idea how he knew when to wake up, but he’d never missed. When he even bothered to stick around, he tended to keep away from the rest of the group, taking on menial tasks like setting up camp or gathering firewood. It seemed to be mutual: the others didn’t really seem to want much to do with him either. Yuffie was pretty sure she’d heard Barret mutter something about a goddamn traitor through his teeth once.
Cait Sith was the only one who hadn’t completely dodged her questions—only mostly. To Yuffie’s routine hey, what’s goin’ on with you guys? he’d simply shaken his head and said, it’s all my fault, lass. Which, okay, cool, not what she’d asked, but it was something at least. Something that Cait Sith hadn’t elaborated on; he’d bounced away immediately and had turned off by the time Yuffie had found him again.
Vincent was even quieter than Red. Yuffie thought she’d heard his voice maybe three or four times, and even then just to give short answers that deterred any attempt at further conversation. It was kinda creepy, to be honest. He was this red-n-black figure hovering at the edges of their merry band, haunting the premises like a goddamn ghost. Yuffie was a ninja, practically built for stealth and sneakiness. And yet, Vincent had managed to surprise her more than a few times, apparently by just appearing out of thin air next to her. He always wore a neutral expression on his face, barely ever reacting to anything around him. Yuffie wasn’t convinced he was human all the way down.
The only time he had appeared human to Yuffie was when that impassible mask had slipped a bit. They’d been taking a break on the edges of a pretty flower field, just outside of Gongaga. Everyone was tenser than usual, quieter, even more miserable. Vincent had stood among the flowers for a long while, a dark blotch against the vibrant colours. Then, he’d bent down and plucked a single yellow one, holding it out to his chest for a moment before letting it fly off with the breeze. Yuffie had no idea why, but something about the gesture had made Tifa tear up and Cid avert his gaze with a pained grimace. So, maybe, there was a human person in there somewhere.
And then there was Cloud.
Yuffie kinda hated being around Cloud.
He was a SOLDIER, which was already a bad start in her books, but what was even more unsettling than his Mako-infused stare was the… misery radiating from him. Yuffie couldn’t give it a better description. It was like he was filled with something painful and intense, something that was eating him alive and that would eat everyone else around him as soon as it was done with him. Maybe it was anger at that Sephiroth guy. Maybe it was some old grief or grudge. Maybe it was guilt about something. Maybe all three.
Or maybe it was venom, impure and simple, and Cloud wasn’t really human either. He was soft-spoken and practical-minded, but whenever Sephiroth’s name came up it was laced with so much pure hatred that Yuffie thought it was a miracle neither of them had dropped dead yet. That acid was corroding Cloud from the inside, she was almost sure of it. What she was completely sure of was that he was a black hole, a single point of negativity capable of dropping the temperature whenever he stepped inside a room, of silencing anyone, of bending reality around his bad moods. It was kind of impressive, kind of annoying, kind of scary.
It spread to the rest of the group as well. The atmosphere shifted on a Gil if Cloud was around, going from sorta-okay to okay, we’re at a funeral. Privately, Yuffie thought it was a little insane to let one miserable bastard dictate the emotions of an entire group. However, she felt it too.
And so they went on, grimly marching and fighting and deriving zero joy from giving Shinra the finger, which should have been impossible.
Yuffie didn’t get it at all.
Something had clearly happened to turn this party of would-be world saviours into such a depressing bunch. And she had tried to figure it out, to make it better. After all, she had to breathe that same air and she didn’t want to catch the blues herself. But nobody would speak of it. It was like they were carrying something other than weapons and tents and Materia with them; a screeching void that sapped them of colour and energy and laughter. Yuffie could see how it was hurting them, but they all seemed dead set on holding tight to that void.
Well, whatever. Yuffie was only there to steal their Materia, anyway. It sure as hell wasn’t her job to play therapist.
And then they went to Cosmo Canyon.
Yuffie lazily studied the knickknacks and baubles in Bugenhagen’s—Red’s grandfather!? Huh!?—laboratory as he droned on about the Planet and memories and wisdom.
I remember Aerith a lot.
Cloud’s voice cut through the room, so soft and tender Yuffie almost hadn’t realised it was his. It had taken a new tone: mournful, quiet, a little wistful. Everyone around them stilled, their faces twisted in pain.
Aerith.
Yuffie had never heard that name before. But she was the only one, and suddenly the void had a name. Aerith.
She learned some things about this person in the conversation that followed. A woman. A friend. An Ancient. Nobody thought to explain things to her, but she was busy studying her teammates anyway. Cloud had a strange expression on his face: he looked grief-stricken, but his eyes were brighter than Yuffie had ever seen them—and not in the creepy SOLDIER way. They looked almost relieved, as if talking about this Aerith person was healing somehow.
The others weren’t doing any better. Tifa and Cid were misty-eyed. Barret and Vincent stoically stared forward with their jaws clenched. Red and Cait Sith had their gazes fixed to the floor.
And, for the first time, Yuffie felt that void touch her as well, suddenly aware of the empty space in their group. It was cold.
After Cosmo Canyon, it was like something had unlocked in her teammates. As though Cloud using her name had given them all permission, they started talking about Aerith. In the past tense.
She loved flowers.
She was funny.
She never learned to swim.
She wanted to come back to this place.
She would have liked you.
Little things but, bit by bit, they started to fill up that yawning abyss that was a constant fixture in the party. Aerith was Tifa’s closest friend. She’d saved Barret’s daughter. She had understood Red better than anyone. Cid had taught her to drive a little. Cait Sith had betrayed her trust. Vincent had earned it slowly.
And Cloud…
Cloud had been in love with her. Still was—it was painfully clear in everything he did and said, in the picture he kept safely tucked in an inner pocket of his backpack, in how talking about her was both killing him and saving his life.
Suddenly, all the questions Yuffie had about her teammates had answers. Painful ones, but she could finally see the giant open wound that she’d been missing in all of them, the gaping hole following their every step. She snuck a peek at Cloud’s picture one night: a selfie of the two of them, taken in Cosmo Canyon maybe. Aerith’s grin was wide and warm, and her eyes sparkled with excitement—enough to get even Cloud to crack half a smile.
As if he’d been summoned by the photo, he cleared his throat behind Yuffie. What’re you doing? She spun around, ready for an explosion as she apologetically held it out to him. But Cloud just sighed as he delicately took it. He looked at it for a moment, absently thumbing at its edges before shaking his head and putting it back in its pocket. He only glanced at Yuffie once before walking off—no hostility, just a glance. Blank, tired, empty.
Yuffie was hit by a wave of second-hand grief for the girl who would never smile like that again. For the girl she would never meet and who would never reunite with her friends.
The rush of emotion surprised her; then she was surprised again when she realised she’d barely even thought about the party’s Materia since she’d heard her name.
Yuffie thought of Aerith’s eyes again. She’d loved flowers. She’d loved the sea. She’d loved her friends.
Don’t worry, she thought. I’ll take care of them.
Even though she’d never met her, Yuffie missed Aerith too.
#public libraries are good because they let people access books they might never otherwise read#private book ownership is good because it's Yours#physical books are good because they last a long time and again it's Yours#ebooks are good because you can fit a whole library into the physical space of a single book and they're cheaper to produce#audiobooks are good because they're accessible to people with eyesight or visual reading issues and leave your hands free#in conclusion: all books are good and people should enjoy them however and whenever they can#(lest it be misunderstood I agree with you completely OP I just also really like books in general and it got away from me)
repeat after me. humans are not inherently evil humans are not like a virus on this earth humans do not “deserve” to go extinct or anything like that. we are living breathing animals that deserve space just like every other creature on this planet. there’s just a tiny amount of us that have a fuck ton of money and power and they really suck
