elekron

[elekron]

MEL HERE. 

I’m changing Angel’s passwords for them so that they can take a summer away from tumblr as opposed to deleting their tumblrs altogether. If you wanna get a hold of Angel, hmu over at @hikaup and IM and ask me to ask Angel about a discord contact. OTHERWISE. AHEM. TO THE PERSON THIS MESSAGE IS REALLY FOR.... Angel---remember!! YOU SAID SEPTEMBER. AND IMMA HOLD U TO SEPTEMBER, U ASS 

have a nice day y’all, and keep on truckin’ along! 

#mel invasion (ooc).

[elekron]

elekron:

Alright, 

I’ve self talked down from hard deleting my blogs, but I will be putting @elekron and @venemence on indefinite hiatus, and will be refraining from touching my accounts, or even lurking until at least the end of summer. I won’t go into too much detail; I only feel that this site, even when I’m not directly on it, and the culture of the community around it, is negatively impacting my mental health in ways that are encroaching dangerously upon interfering with my real life. 

I’m at a pivotal point in my life where an enormous number of opportunities are unfolding before me, I’m growing tremendously as a person, and I’ve formed some of the most meaningful relationships in my life. Not to mention I have important people in my life looking to me for support, and one more on the way. I can’t afford to be continuously stressed over the social climate, and my position within that on a damned website, I can’t afford to feel stressed, choked up, or violated over a website. 

Obviously, I adore the friends I’ve made here, and even the awkward acquaintances. I’ve had the privilege of meeting some talented writers and wonderful people. Nonetheless, I’m calling it quits here. I’ll save my pages somewhere in case I do ever feel the overwhelming desire to return, but for now, I’m done. 

I’m done. 

If anyone wants to continue to have a relationship off Tumblr, you can catch me on Discord @ Elekron#3888 

I’ll leave this post up for a week, or maybe more, if I get caught up at work (I’m working 10-12 hour shifts, 6-7 days a week right now), but after that, I’ll be moving on. 

Thank you all so much for the time we’ve shared, and for being part of something I needed for a good long time. 

#ooc #edited

[elekron]

Alright, 

I’m thinking it’s time to delete my blogs @elekron and @venemence and move on from Tumblr. I won’t go into too much detail; I only feel that this site, even when I’m not directly on it, and the culture of the community around it, is negatively impacting my mental health in ways that are encroaching dangerously upon interfering with my real life. 

I’m at a pivotal point in my life where an enormous number of opportunities are unfolding before me, I’m growing tremendously as a person, and I’ve formed some of the most meaningful relationships in my life. Not to mention I have important people in my life looking to me for support, and one more on the way. I can’t afford to be continuously stressed over the social climate, and my position within that on a damned website, I can’t afford to feel stressed, choked up, or violated over a website. 

Obviously, I adore the friends I’ve made here, and even the awkward acquaintances. I’ve had the privilege of meeting some talented writers and wonderful people. Nonetheless, I’m calling it quits here. I’ll save my pages somewhere in case I do ever feel the overwhelming desire to return, but for now, I’m done. 

I’m done. 

If anyone wants to continue to have a relationship off Tumblr, you can catch me on Discord @ Elekron#3888 

I’ll leave this post up for a week, or maybe more, if I get caught up at work (I’m working 10-12 hour shifts, 6-7 days a week right now), but after that, I’ll be moving on. 

Thank you all so much for the time we’ve shared, and for being part of something I needed for a good long time. 

#ooc

[elekron]

Alright, 

I’m thinking it’s time to delete my blogs @elekron and @venemence and move on from Tumblr. I won’t go into too much detail; I only feel that this site, even when I’m not directly on it, and the culture of the community around it, is negatively impacting my mental health in ways that are encroaching dangerously upon interfering with my real life. 

I’m at a pivotal point in my life where an enormous number of opportunities are unfolding before me, I’m growing tremendously as a person, and I’ve formed some of the most meaningful relationships in my life. Not to mention I have important people in my life looking to me for support, and one more on the way. I can’t afford to be continuously stressed over the social climate, and my position within that on a damned website, I can’t afford to feel stressed, choked up, or violated over a website. 

Obviously, I adore the friends I’ve made here, and even the awkward acquaintances. I’ve had the privilege of meeting some talented writers and wonderful people. Nonetheless, I’m calling it quits here. I’ll save my pages somewhere in case I do ever feel the overwhelming desire to return, but for now, I’m done. 

I’m done. 

If anyone wants to continue to have a relationship off Tumblr, you can catch me on Discord @ Elekron#3888 

I’ll leave this post up for a week, or maybe more, if I get caught up at work (I’m working 10-12 hour shifts, 6-7 days a week right now), but after that, I’ll be moving on. 

Thank you all so much for the time we’ve shared, and for being part of something I needed for a good long time. 

#ooc

[elekron]

Hiatus Notice 

Hey all, I think I need to take an extended break from Tumblr.  I’m creatively burned out right now, and currently unhappy with the fandom.  As much as I love writing with y’all, I think I need to disengage for a bit.  I will still be around off Tumblr, and may send some anons occasionally if I’m bored at work.  I anticipate I will eventually return, and I’ll pick up again on threads if anyone’s still interested Until then, catch me around dis.cord at Elekron#3888 (please double check that we’re mutuals before sending me a request)

#ooc #im just reblogging again for reference #i also just attended my grandma's funeral so I'm especially sore at the moment

[elekron]

Hiatus Notice 

Hey all, I think I need to take an extended break from Tumblr.  I’m creatively burned out right now, and currently unhappy with the fandom.  As much as I love writing with y’all, I think I need to disengage for a bit.  I will still be around off Tumblr, and may send some anons occasionally if I’m bored at work.  I anticipate I will eventually return, and I’ll pick up again on threads if anyone’s still interested Until then, catch me around dis.cord at Elekron#3888 (please double check that we’re mutuals before sending me a request)

#ooc

[elekron]

agentcatman:

The smile fades away slowly and the agent’s usual neutral frowning face. ❝ I’m not sure if anyone like that exists anymore. ❞ He says in a matter-of-fact fashion. The feeling of loneliness had less of a presence in his life. Even when he did feel that way, there was nothing he could have done to alleviate that feeling. 

000 leans on a wall, crossing his arms to mirror the other. ❝ I’m just saying that this holiday’s just for people to spend their money on gifts. That’s all. ❞

The dour conversation imprinted upon the youth’s mind, every word leaving him a little more jaded than before. “Is it really so bad to buy gifts for the people you care about... or are you suggesting it loses meaning when given for a dumb holiday?” What that meant for him, then, someone who struggled to muster the courage to express himself even with the added security. 

Unsettled, he grew ever eager to divert his reflections from himself. He latched onto a comment previously disregarded. “Mister detective... why do you think there might not be anyone who loves you?”

#agentcatman #v: world by storm #wow nanu breaking my heart through casual conversation

[elekron]

nimbasah:

Starter for @elekron

Elesa followed the worker through the building, only half listening as they ranted off a list of things that was going on. She knew she should have been listening but she was aware of everything going on, and had kept herself up to date on the incidences and the kids who were part of the rehabilitation program. 

Entering the room Elesa’s eyes began scanning her surroundings, landing on a familiar and prominent figure. She smiled, moving around the metting table to take a position beside him. 

“Volkner, it’s been awhile. How have you been? How’s your mother?” she spoke to him, inquiring quietly as there were many others filing into the meeting room. She’d worked with his mother enough in the fashion world that whenever she saw him without her she had to inquire. 

They were meeting however not to catch up or have a nice chat, but to talk about the sudden rise in crime and how many thought it was the kids who had once been part of Plasma or other organizations who had been part of the mentorship program that both Elesa and Volkner helped with. Elesa herself was positive her kids had nothing to do with it. She could only hope that Volkner and other thought the same, or she’d do everything in her power to try and convince them. 

Volkner sat, agitated as he listened to the debate around him. His fingers drummed along the desk irritably. The conversation had not officially begun yet, but the tone was telling. These people, without a shred of proof between them, were prepared to condemn a bunch of young people, and the program that offered them a chance. 

It cracked like static in his veins, like thick clouds rolling over the horizon. 

Elesa was his only solace in the face of this blatant injustice, for she was the only one who stood by his side on the matter. Not even for her, however, could he don a veil of friendliness, his outrage was so pungent. “Same as always,” he managed through teeth clenched so tight they threatened to be ground to dust.

There was a resounding chatter as invitees settled into the room. Volkner braced himself for the coming hours, for the criticism that would surely come his way. For his part, Volkner was quick to get to business. “What’s your take on all this? Was it one of ours?” It left a sour taste in his mouth to even ask the question, remedied quickly by his resolution, “if you tell me it wasn’t them, I’ll back you up, without question.” 

#nimbasah #v: world challenger #you have no need to apologize sorry for my tremendously late reply #and for this grumpy boi

[elekron]

Hello Rood. I, like you, thought long and hard about whether or not I should say anything - whether it would make a difference, but I have concluded that, to find peace for myself in all this, I must.

I know this post is about me, I know it’s meant for my eyes, and I know you knew I would see it.

Before this goes any further, there is something I want to share. I ask only that you read it to the end. If you maintain your judgement then, if you double down, that’s fine. But I want to share with you what the word abuse means to me.

It is the quiet of the night. The nights where your eyes are peeled open, fixed on a spot on the ceiling right above your head (the same spot, every night). The nights of apprehension, where shoulders stiff you wait, and wait, never sure it’s really safe. It’s the cold sweat and quiet place, the sense of impending doom. It’s the curtain call of furniture being thrown in the neighbouring room - the shouts, the screams, the blanket hugging you.

It’s the soreness of the waking sun and the bruises on her face. It’s the slap of skin walloping my baby brother’s face.

It’s the crunch of metal as he backs into her car. It’s the fighting not to shake, six years old, as we walk, and we walk far. It’s the flickering lights and diamond floor, the wood stool that creaks, the pizza that tastes so bad, but you eat. It’s the calm in his voice, “I’ll throw her body in a ditch.”

It’s the tiny room and five bodies to two bunk beds, the cold showers and days of instant noodles, the walls you can’t leave, yet still my favourite place in the world.

It’s the years of waiting up at night, waiting for him to come. The plan of a twelve year old to escape (out the window with the broken screen, slide down the roof to the car, and run to the neighbours house) and save everyone. It’s the stomach aches and the migraines, and dreams of loved ones killing you with steel.

It’s the hug he gives you years later, standing on your porch. The moment of empathy for crocodile tears, and then he whispers, “we both know it never happened.” We both know.

It is the system that tears young children from their families, so selective in action. It’s the nights of wondering, when, when will I get to see them? It’s the emptiness of the house and the purple Dora sock, that you hold onto for years and years --

until you give up.  A nine year old wouldn’t fit into a four year old’s stupid sock, anyway.

It’s the dreams of death and wild anxiety. The nights of screaming and demanding (please, please just call them! I need to know they’re not dead!), and the days of checking out.

It’s the three whispers echoing, “me too,” when years later, the silence breaks.

It’s the secret art of giving up before you start, because you know no matter what you do it won’t be enough. It’s the tears over a B+, the innocent callousness of your friends laughing at your drama. It’s your quiet pride in your first A in English, the, “did you get an A in everything else? Well, why not?”

It’s the days, the weeks, the months of silence when she doesn’t get what she wants. The awkward meals of 12, 17, the gravity of “I want to kill myself.”

It’s the isolation and favourtism of the do no wrongs, the personal bitterness, the “or else.”

It’s the “he can stay, and you can go” that drives you out.

It’s the shattering of glass at the end another night of booze. The shouts and screams at the undeserving. It’s the sound of worthlessness being driven in, the scorn in her voice, “you’re useless.”

It’s the bleeding rage of tears unshed in her utter confidence, “well, people are more honest when they’re drunk,” she says.

It’s the code of silence, the family creed, sworn against ratting someone out (and stealing). It’s the slur in her voice over the phone, “I’m not drinking,” it’s the ash in your throat, “don’t you trust me?”

It’s the money in your piggy bank that belongs to her, that you were asked to keep hold of. It’s the banging on your door and the screaming, because you did exactly as she asked, you helped her keep from drinking. It’s the blame you take when the family turns against you, the power of the words at fourteen, “you were supposed to stop it.”

It’s the promise of protection, the “I’m the only one who loves you,” impression, the stories she tells of how everyone hates you, the, “they’re embarrassed.” It’s the way you’re the favourite, until you disagree, the way everyone turns against you for weeks.

It’s the years of believing in words spoken against you, and then the, years later, “wait, no he didn’t - she did.” It’s the cold repetition.

It’s always wondering, always doubting.

It’s the eyes of grief, looking at me, the begging voice “I’m not stupid,” the unspoken, “am I?”

It’s the hands through your hair and tears in your eyes, the mountain that grows ever in your throat. It’s the nights that never end, the images that remain.

It’s the word that makes you freeze every time it forms in the air.

I say all this not say I’m any kind of expert, but to show that abuse is not a word I take lightly. It is not an accusation I turn a blind eye to.

And I want you to know I took every precaution I could in this. I asked people on the other side of this. I looked. I examined. I reflected. I took a critical look at someone I consider a friend, and I read even after it began to feel like I was violating her. I asked unbiased parties, I asked my mentor, I asked someone who lived their entire career working with women who have experienced abuse. 

I interrogated a friend, challenged my personal perceptions, questioned motives and actions, and it was tough. 

It was tough, but not tougher than the calls to police about my parent. Not tougher than the reports to social workers, who I neither like nor trust. It wasn’t even tougher than the sighs, the rolling of eyes, every time I challenge someone in the family. It wasn’t tougher than cutting ties with my own mother, through loss of family and questions. 

With all of this in mind, this is exactly what I said,

Now I challenge you, to do the same that I did. To take a good long look at what you’ve been given, to be critical, to do your checks with people who have no reason to be biased. Look with a critical lens, be self reflective, and see if you don’t see what I did -

two people who were, and still are deeply hurt, who struggled to set boundaries and communicate effectively with one another, who both said things that were toxic, who both did things that were manipulative.

And I would like to call on this to end here. There’s been enough trials, enough name calling, enough digging for information. 

There is no question that the ending of a friendship is a painful thing, and there’s no question there were things said and done that were unhealthy. There’s a hurt that needs to be healed, and wounds that need to be heard, but the way it’s being done is not helping anyone. 

I think there’s no greater gift in friendship than staring the hard truths down, than being able to say, “yeah, that was a shitty thing to say, now what are we going to do about it?” 

Thank you for reading. 

ooc. you know, i had debated saying anything, seeing as how i had thought the situation handled, therefore my interfering was unnecessary, but there are at least a handful of you in this fandom that need to do some serious self-reflection.

if a person tells you they were abused, and has taken the time to painstakingly compile evidence against their abuser to show others not as a means of manipulation or as a “gross violation of privacy”, but rather a means of warning others of their toxic behaviors, and then proceed to invalidate and out them to their abuser, maybe you should take the time to reevaluate yourself as a person the next time you get on your soapbox to criticize others for starting “drama”.

“but rood,” you say “i don’t want to think of my friend as an abuser!”

if you prioritize fictional relationships over real ones, demonizing the actual victim in all of this for the sake of continued interaction, then you’re part of the problem. someone making you aware of your friend’s shitty, toxic, and manipulative behaviors is not the same as saying you can’t interact with them. however, it doesn’t mean you get to shit on the abused either.

#ooc #cw: abuse

[elekron]

I have a pen..

b-beautiful 

#crack #essenceguardian

[elekron]

ppap riley is a national hero 

#ok i promise i will delete these later

[elekron]

bring him back

[elekron]

justice for ppap riley

[elekron]

magicmagikarp:

        : [ 🐟 ] : – “Gy-Gym leader?!” M choked a bit, so he caught the eyes of the gym leader. Shit. Well, any other time M would have been impressed with himself, but he honestly is more surprised to hear the other was a gym leader. And to hear the other offering him help so quickly…M was a bit hesitant about everything now.              “I mean, It’s a pleasure to meet you sir. Volkner. Sir,” he started to ramble, but stopped himself. Right, gym leaders were…friendly people from what he understood. At least, Volkner seemed to be one of the nicer ones.               “The name is M, like the letter,” he chuckled, offering a hand as form of greeting. “But please, I would watch out who you offer your help to Mister Volkner. Be this friendly to the wrong people and someone might take advantage of you. But I’m sure you’re perfectly capable of keeping yourself safe..”

“That’s right.” Not unaccustomed to being met with astonishment in the revelation of his title, he was not frazzled by the stranger’s befuddlement. “Just Volkner; formalities aren’t necessary... M.” The name, the getup, it all flirted with his imagination. His mind soon wandered with it, reeled back only upon noticing the hand extended to him. 

Several moments delayed, his hand extended to accept M’s offering. “To you, as well.” 

He felt a crackle of amusement in his chest. Never had anyone identified Volkner as the overly-friendly sort, the type that could walk blind into the face of misfortune - not since childhood. “I’ll take my chances.”

Arrogance, it appeared, would be his downfall. No sooner than he had spoken, an Aipom leapt from his shoulder, wallet in hand, and dashed across the street to a dark haired young boy with a devilish smile that reeked of mischief. The boy, in blithe disregard for his anonymity, cast a crooked across the street at the duo, then turned on his heels and disappeared into a neighbouring alleyway. 

Dumbfounded, Volkner could only gape at where the figure had vanished, patting his emptied pockets. “... you cannot be serious.” 

#magicmagikarp #v: undetermined #local man immediately proven wrong

[elekron]

ugh. sorry I haven’t been active lately.  I’ve frankly been feeling?? both unhappy and insecure about my writing.  It feels dead to me. My ideas, my vocabulary, my style have all become stale.  I just don’t know what to do about it.  I don’t really derive any emotional response from my writing these days, or my characters -  I don’t even know if I really enjoy writing,  or if I’ve just been doing it out of a hollow sense of obligation.  Regardless, I’m passing the time with Assassin’s Creed Origins.  Find me on Discord at Elekron#3888 (please double check that we are mutuals first before sending a request)

#ooc

[elekron]

eternashy:

      “Only once?”    A soft, quiet giggle.

      “Oh, understandable. The forest is not for everyone, after all. To each their own as they say. Right?” Cheryl knelt down so that she could pick one of many flowers Floroma Town had to offer. Standing back up, she held it out to Volkner.

           Then, it finally clicked !

   “Oh, aren’t you the Sunnyshore Gym Leader? Apologies for not realizing sooner, oh how embarrassing…!”

“Just the on-” his eyes fixated on the flower extended to him. Shyly, his fingers closed around the stem of the flower, the etchings of a smile budding upon his lips. A small gesture, but no less appreciated - like the first sigh of spring after a long winter.  

“Thank you.” 

He could not have held the delayed recognition against her if he wanted. “... I wouldn’t trouble myself over it; I don’t expect everyone to recognize me. My name is Volkner... and you are?”

#eternashy #v: undetermined #boi is so happy to get a freshly picked flower smh

[elekron]

essenceguardian:

             ‘  i’m holding up for now. but for how much longer, i can’t say.  ’ even his defenses could not prevail against the forces which tormented him at night and wore at his resilience. the aura which tore at them surpassed even he, a skilled aura user, and its ability along with the might behind it could only belong to darkrai. within its domain, their deterioration would only be a matter of time.

         ‘  unfortunately that’s the case.  ’ he looks down sadly at the child cradled in volkner’s arms, who had unfortunately not been spared from the nightmare pokemon’s undiscriminating wrath. even adults did not fare well with nightmares. whether or not a baby had the mental fortitude to withstand one was out of the question.  ‘  i doubt it will stop. if worse comes to worst, we may have to move away from here temporarily.  ’

Though the infant had already begun to doze again, her breathing remained punctuated with the occasional quiver. Volkner watched her, watched the way her expression strained against the whisperings of fear. If he could only protect her from it - but his paternal reach did not extend to the slumbering world of dreams. Reluctant to be parted from her, he drew the child closer, and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. Nothing, he swore privately to himself, nothing would ever hurt her. 

“I agree. I’m not sure how much longer I can bear to see her go through this... or you.” Volkner carried with him a responsibility to Sunyshore, too, however. As Gym Leader, should the residents of the city see him lose strength in the face in such adversity, the results could be devastating. He could not abandon Sunyshore, though he could do nothing for it. “I could send her away... I have family in Kalos.” His gaze shifted back to Riley, who, in the pale moonlight appeared aged by stress and sleepless nights. “You too. You should go with her.” 

#essenceguardian #v: path of progress #;;strange happenings #;;dreamscape