Profiles Of Harm

Mr. Flowers: Oh, you're here. Feel free to talk to me or any one of us. Try not to ignite my anger and we'll get along. I promise. Relise: Hush up, Mr. Flowers. You're scaring someone. Hi! I...I'm sure you'll be fine right here because...well, I like this place. Ask us something and I'll do my best to be honest! Rospel: Sure, fine, go ahead. Ask. Don't expect a nice, goody-two-shoes answer from me. You've been warned. Trevor: I've never met someone who's harsh on our guest, but don't mind him. I'm not tense most of the time, so lay anything on me and I'll listen. Take care. ((All Original Characters can interact with any fandom, but they're not affiliated with a fandom. Be sure to see the rules before you begin! Main Profile: http://fragilelineofinnocence.tumblr.com/ ))

[hunterraiehorror]

Re-blog if you're accepting anonymous asks from anyone about anything

[profilesofharm]

Yeah. Sure.

[threeinoneocblog]

[threeinoneocblog]

"Alright," Misty says, nodding as her curiosity builds up. "What’s the story?" Stories are usually interesting to hear, and she hopes that telling this one won’t make Mr. Flowers uncomfortable.

"Well, some of them. Others just like the night ‘cause broad daylight makes everything less scary." Not many horror stories take place on a clear day, for obvious reasons.

She doesn’t mind staying; she doesn’t have to be home for a few hours, anyway. Besides, she likes talking to him and hanging out in the peace and general quiet of the forest. So she just nods at his request.

[profilesofharm]

Sitting firmly while clearing his throat, he planned his words during the sunset. “There was a lot I did to get a bad reputation. Violence in public, vandalism, reoccurring social disturbances—well, anything related to people or their belongings. People in my hometown know me as a menace. Honestly, I wanted to display the beauty of what’s abnormal, rare, or plain weird. Moving into another city that’s on the top of the world did not make much of a difference. The news of my arrival and behavior has spread quicker than I thought, bringing me an unwelcome mood from the small town.”

His lenses’ glow was sharply pointing towards the dark ground. “The point is: I don’t intimidate people when someone doesn’t agree with my thoughts. However, there were lots of people who wanted to wash my face with a strong hose, like I was a wasp’s small nest. There were crowds who forcefully grabbed me by the edge of my clothing to roughly wipe soap and old, hard sponges on the face that angered locals. Anything that hurts me won’t turn around and start walking without a bleeding scar.” Both lenses were orange before switching to a dark blue color, followed by soft whimpering and sniffling.

"That makes sense. I still believe that broad daylight can be scary if you add something else to the light." What would that be? Then again, he thinks he’s an example of a "walking daylight nightmare" to communities.

His lenses come back to life with a pure yellow tone. The sun’s already gone, but there is no curfew for Mr. Flowers. “Thank you. It’s nice to have someone by your side.” His gloves gently slip away from his hands, revealing skin on his right hand and lighter, shinier skin from his left hand.

[threeinoneocblog]

As she listens as intently as she can, she tries not to let the color changes of the goggles distract her. Even though she’s had plenty of time to get used to them, they’re still fascinating.

And as for the story itself, she’s glad that Mr. Flowers’s being a “menace” wasn’t the first thing she heard about him. Even it if was, she would have known there was another side to the story, but she tended to want to avoid non-supernatural criminals, just for self defense. It’s a good thing she has at least a somewhat clear idea of the other side of the story. "I’m not really one for violence," she admits, "but it sounds like people are attacking you first. Just for being weird! And what’s wrong with that?" She happens to like weird things. What’s the world without unusual stuff? Boring, that’s what.

"Yeah, maybe," is all she said to the daylight comment. It wasn’t that daytime threats weren’t scary at all; they were just, in general, less scary than nighttime threats. At least, that’s how it seems.

And to the last statement, she replies, “As long as they respect you and your privacy.” Almost as if to explain, she tucks her pink notebook further under her white one.

[profilesofharm]

He shakes his head quickly, hoping that his lenses don't leak out "synthetic tears" or display anything about his current state of weakness. They change to a lighter blue color while he sighs and recalls more about his past. It's who he is and what he wants to be: different. However, most cities in Alaska label him as two things: "Government Anarchist" and "Deranged Anti-Socialite." Mr. Flowers also recalls particular moments in his life: acceptance from one person, his family cutting him off from visiting or contacting them, people he trusted abandoning him, and several small events that left him with emotional scars.

"That's...It has been the question I wanted to know: what's wrong with me expressing what I think about certain things, let alone dress up like...like this?" His lenses start fading to black before a red dot appears in the center of each lens and spread out to the edges as rings. Underneath the face paint is not a pretty sight as he stands up and walks towards a tree. "I don't understand why people would rather see me sick or...AUGH!!" Mr. Flowers furiously strikes the tree in front of him with his reinforced, prosthetic arm. His anger subsides when he pulls out a large syringe, inflicts himself with it on the neck, and extracts blood while gasping from the prickly touch and sighing after pulling the tool off. It isn't a conventional method to handle anger, but it's effective since he enjoyed getting shots at a young age.

"Just add paranoia and that'll capture anyone's attention." Paranoia, really? That's the basis of all things scary, he thought. It's still scarier at night, so he assumes he lost the mini debate.

He notices that privacy is her main concern. His mind is very curious about the pink notebook, but he doesn't put much thought into it. "Well...I respect you and I appreciate your presence. As for privacy, I understand." It's difficult to erase the pink notebook out of his mind.

[radical-rotom-deactivated201508]

[gamestop]

True story.

[profilesofharm]

True.

[ostolero]

Visit Original Link

[ostolero]

i give my life not for honor but for *soulja boy voice* YOUUUUUU

[ostolero]

i’m still in a dream

[ostolero]

what a fear in my heart

[erenjeagerswifey]

Teacher: Reading a book is better than sex. [Class titters] Teacher: It’s like a 10-hour orgasm! [Laughter increases] Girl pipes up: Yeah, and with a book I actually get to finish! [Boys’ laughter dies off almost instantly as the girls hoot]

[mortallyposting-deactivated2018]

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH  SHOTS FIRED 

[profilesofharm]

Woooow.

[madeupmonkeyshit]

[polarity-princess-deactivated20]

If you think you don’t need this on your dash, you’re wrong.

[profilesofharm]

Yes.

[spork]

I FEEL LIKE PEOPLE ON TUMBLR NEED TO REMEMBER IT’S OKAY TO

not be mentally ill

have good grades

to dislike reading

have a happy family

enjoy exercising/not enjoy exercising

to have different opinion

to reblog/not reblog certain posts

to be a gay white boy

to be a straight white boy

to be a bisexual white girl

(to be any race/gender/sexual orientation)

to not like porn

to not ship destiel

to not be in a fandom

to be in a happy relationship

[profilesofharm]

We stand by this.

[fkdpqma64]

스파이는 역시 나쁜놈 같아요 엔지하면

최애캐지만 참 얄미운거같음

[tf2gifs]

[threeinoneocblog]

[threeinoneocblog]

Really? She wonders why people aren’t that fond of him. Maybe it’s because he looks a bit more threatening than she does; she has the “innocent little girl” look going on. But she doesn’t ask, because she feels that might be awkward.

"It’ll help me see where I’m going! I just gotta be careful not to shine it in certain people’s faces. Light’s their weakness," she says casually, almost forgetting the idea of darkness demons is weird to most people.

When he sits and stares at the tree, Misty speaks up again. “You don’t HAVE to be open around me if you don’t want to. Would…would you rather be left alone?” How late is it, anyway?

[profilesofharm]

There’s a flashback in his mind. Three years ago. It was three years since he adopted “The Skull of Abnormality” at home. His family didn’t agree to his new look with a “what’s wrong with you?” expression. The tux, hat, and everything else came along within the year. More and more people grew fearful of him. On one occasion, police were called to “secure the peace” when Mr. Flowers tried to display the beauty of something outside the social norm. It’s too much to remember everything at once, but he wants to get his story straight.

"There’s a story behind the fact I don’t get along with people. I can share with you why. You just need to ask," he exclaimed calmly.

"Is it the same people as before? I think I understand." Then again, his goggles can’t take a lot of light for an extended period.

No, don’t go, he thought. His lenses brighten up, both pink and blue, as he turns around to her. Standing up, Mr. Flowers softly raises his voice. “I…I would prefer if you…stay here. With me, of course…” The blue hue transitions to a smooth green-yellow. The sun is setting and the wind is flowing smoothly.

[threeinoneocblog]

"Alright," Misty says, nodding as her curiosity builds up. "What’s the story?" Stories are usually interesting to hear, and she hopes that telling this one won’t make Mr. Flowers uncomfortable.

"Well, some of them. Others just like the night ‘cause broad daylight makes everything less scary." Not many horror stories take place on a clear day, for obvious reasons.

She doesn’t mind staying; she doesn’t have to be home for a few hours, anyway. Besides, she likes talking to him and hanging out in the peace and general quiet of the forest. So she just nods at his request.

[profilesofharm]

Sitting firmly while clearing his throat, he planned his words during the sunset. "There was a lot I did to get a bad reputation. Violence in public, vandalism, reoccurring social disturbances--well, anything related to people or their belongings. People in my hometown know me as a menace. Honestly, I wanted to display the beauty of what's abnormal, rare, or plain weird. Moving into another city that's on the top of the world did not make much of a difference. The news of my arrival and behavior has spread quicker than I thought, bringing me an unwelcome mood from the small town."

His lenses' glow was sharply pointing towards the dark ground. "The point is: I don't intimidate people when someone doesn't agree with my thoughts. However, there were lots of people who wanted to wash my face with a strong hose, like I was a wasp's small nest. There were crowds who forcefully grabbed me by the edge of my clothing to roughly wipe soap and old, hard sponges on the face that angered locals. Anything that hurts me won't turn around and start walking without a bleeding scar." Both lenses were orange before switching to a dark blue color, followed by soft whimpering and sniffling.

"That makes sense. I still believe that broad daylight can be scary if you add something else to the light." What would that be? Then again, he thinks he's an example of a "walking daylight nightmare" to communities.

His lenses come back to life with a pure yellow tone. The sun's already gone, but there is no curfew for Mr. Flowers. "Thank you. It's nice to have someone by your side." His gloves gently slip away from his hands, revealing skin on his right hand and lighter, shinier skin from his left hand.

[seraphs-tears-deactivated201306]

[kelbora]

I think this is applicable to just about everyone on the planet. Growing up is hard…very hard, and its painful to look back and see just how much sacrifice growing up takes.

Its even harder when you know you were someone else’s sacrifice.

[imagineyouricon]

Imagine your icon, with their eyes lit up, talking to you about their passions excitedly.

[tastefullyoffensive]

Crazy Ideas That Just Need to Happen Already [via] Previously: Mind-Boggling Shower Thoughts

[profilesofharm]

This should motivate our members.

[hoodsos-aus-deactivated20150309]

This shit better work

[sansaspark-deactivated20150711]

HAH I REBLOGGED THIS LAST NIGHT AND LOOK WHAT I GOT FROM MY DAD TODAY OUT OF THE BLUE

[hellabitcoins-deactivated201704]

what if we all got paper lol

[ahkmenra-h]

GUYS I REBLOGGED THIS LAST NIGHT AND I JUST GOT $150 

[profilesofharm]

Oh, screw it.

[threeinoneocblog]

[threeinoneocblog]

"Yeah, most people seem to like me. Some just find it weird that I’m not really phased by this dark stuff." Including Tori, who despite her usual confidence, is pretty sensitive to supernatural horror.

She watches closely as he builds, though she knows Danielle would be the one to learn things easily. Misty’s just focused on what the final product will be.

And it’s a flashlight. Her flashlight, apparently. “Oh, thanks!” she says, happily accepting it. “I’ll be sure to use it!” A present is definitely on her list of what she wasn’t expecting today.

"No worries. I’m one of the safest people you can do that around." It feels like that should be one of the reasons people tend to like her, but she hasn’t had a deep conversation with many people. It’s why most don’t know much about her.

[profilesofharm]

"Huh. If you ask anyone I talk to, they’ll say exactly what you said. Minus the ‘people liking you’ part." Nobody wants to know what he does on his spare time, let alone what he does under a lot of pressure or anger.

Strange. He feels something fuzzy in his heart. Gratitude isn’t something he hears from time to time. Regardless of the new emotion, he smiles with yellow, glowing lenses. “You’re welcome, Misty. I’m sure you will. Not a lot of people are careful in the dark, so…I hope this helps.” The darkness can provoke danger, metaphorically and literally, he thought. Maybe that’s the source to his problems.

It’s still a difficult concept for him: expressing thoughts and true emotions. He keeps holding on to his experience from the family, trying to hide any vulnerability from his goggles and his voice. The thought of showing how you feel towards someone develops insecurity inside Mr. Flowers.

However, he doesn’t want to ignore what Misty stated. Sitting down with his arms hugging his knees over his legs, he nods to her response while viewing an old tree ahead of him. His goggles’ lenses become dim, but the colors continue to glow from a close distance.

[threeinoneocblog]

Really? She wonders why people aren’t that fond of him. Maybe it’s because he looks a bit more threatening than she does; she has the “innocent little girl” look going on. But she doesn’t ask, because she feels that might be awkward.

"It’ll help me see where I’m going! I just gotta be careful not to shine it in certain people’s faces. Light’s their weakness," she says casually, almost forgetting the idea of darkness demons is weird to most people.

When he sits and stares at the tree, Misty speaks up again. “You don’t HAVE to be open around me if you don’t want to. Would…would you rather be left alone?” How late is it, anyway?

[profilesofharm]

There's a flashback in his mind. Three years ago. It was three years since he adopted "The Skull of Abnormality" at home. His family didn't agree to his new look with a "what's wrong with you?" expression. The tux, hat, and everything else came along within the year. More and more people grew fearful of him. On one occasion, police were called to "secure the peace" when Mr. Flowers tried to display the beauty of something outside the social norm. It's too much to remember everything at once, but he wants to get his story straight.

"There's a story behind the fact I don't get along with people. I can share with you why. You just need to ask," he exclaimed calmly.

"Is it the same people as before? I think I understand." Then again, his goggles can't take a lot of light for an extended period.

No, don't go, he thought. His lenses brighten up, both pink and blue, as he turns around to her. Standing up, Mr. Flowers softly raises his voice. "I...I would prefer if you...stay here. With me, of course..." The blue hue transitions to a smooth green-yellow. The sun is setting and the wind is flowing smoothly.

[seeyouallintherapy]

REBLOG IF YOU WANT A LOVE LETTER FROM A FICTIONAL CHARACTER IN YOUR ASK BOX NOW

[roadtripxo]

Send me a colour :) Make my day? :3

[profilesofharm]

Deep Red - I’m in love with you. Red - I love you. Pink - I think you’re cute. Blue - You’re amazing. Rose - You’re pretty Purple - You’re hot. Plum - I would fuck you. Violet - I would date you. Aqua - I could stay on your blog for hours. Lavender - You are my tumblr crush. Orange - I want to get to know you. Tangerine - We have a lot in common. Amber - I wish you would notice me. Cream - I don’t talk to you but I really love your blog

Go ahead.

[threeinoneocblog]

[threeinoneocblog]

Just as she thought; he’s not the type to advertise his work. But there’s nothing wrong with that. “Hey, I’m a mystery, too! But not in the same way. People are only scared of me sometimes.” And even then, no one’s wanted to avoid her. “And you can show me your brand of recycling if you want.”

"No problem! I don’t know about EVERYONE, but I think what I did learn is worth something!" He reminds her of all those real characters she’s met; they all scare most people away, but not her. In fact, her fascination with the dark side is what makes some people uneasy.

To be honest, she wasn’t expecting to get an answer. “Thanks,” is her only reply at first. She considers adding “I get that a lot,” but it sounds a little vain. She doesn’t get the implication of the way he’s saying it, that is, if the implication is there. Most people think of her as cute like a small child, cheerful and seemingly naive. Which is why these people don’t tend to take her seriously.

Even though her hopeless romantic side doesn’t pick up anything, she’s still concerned. “Are you okay?”

[profilesofharm]

"Sometimes? I find that a bit hard to believe. You’re actually good to get along with." His smile continues to appear, better than before. "Sure, I’ll give it a whirl."

Mr. Flowers pulls out several items: a small phone case made of rubber, a hollow metal cylinder, a dynamo, his pair of cracked lenses, a circular cap, two bright LED bulbs, and several wires and pieces of metal. He slowly shows Misty each step of the “recycling” process. While constructing, Mr. Flowers’ goggles emit gentle sounds that range from quick beeps to long hums. Before completing the process, he carefully smoothed out any rough edges to make sure the metal is safe to touch. The outcome of every material is a functional flashlight with adjustable lenses and a lever to crank the dynamo and produce light. No materials wasted.

He gives the new flashlight to her, smiling. “That’s enough recycling for now. Tell me if you need anything built from me, but anything complicated needs time. This was something simple.”

"Oh, nice. It’s a valuable piece of knowledge you have. I’m sure the people you know have protected you whenever you needed help, right?" Who knew the dark side would be so interesting for Mr. Flowers?

That doesn’t sound good. His voice wasn’t loud or confident when he stated his mind. He’s not very comfortable displaying personal thoughts to anyone, and this moment is one of several reasons why. Mr. Flowers was sure he meant it sincerely, not in a playful tone. He meant to say it as a compliment to highlight maturity and beauty.

Looking away with a purple lens turning dark blue, he covers his goggles. “…Yeah, I’m okay. I just realized I let my thoughts speak out without a second opinion.”

[threeinoneocblog]

"Yeah, most people seem to like me. Some just find it weird that I’m not really phased by this dark stuff." Including Tori, who despite her usual confidence, is pretty sensitive to supernatural horror.

She watches closely as he builds, though she knows Danielle would be the one to learn things easily. Misty’s just focused on what the final product will be.

And it’s a flashlight. Her flashlight, apparently. “Oh, thanks!” she says, happily accepting it. “I’ll be sure to use it!” A present is definitely on her list of what she wasn’t expecting today.

"No worries. I’m one of the safest people you can do that around." It feels like that should be one of the reasons people tend to like her, but she hasn’t had a deep conversation with many people. It’s why most don’t know much about her.

[profilesofharm]

"Huh. If you ask anyone I talk to, they'll say exactly what you said. Minus the 'people liking you' part." Nobody wants to know what he does on his spare time, let alone what he does under a lot of pressure or anger.

Strange. He feels something fuzzy in his heart. Gratitude isn't something he hears from time to time. Regardless of the new emotion, he smiles with yellow, glowing lenses. "You're welcome, Misty. I'm sure you will. Not a lot of people are careful in the dark, so...I hope this helps." The darkness can provoke danger, metaphorically and literally, he thought. Maybe that's the source to his problems.

It's still a difficult concept for him: expressing thoughts and true emotions. He keeps holding on to his experience from the family, trying to hide any vulnerability from his goggles and his voice. The thought of showing how you feel towards someone develops insecurity inside Mr. Flowers.

However, he doesn't want to ignore what Misty stated. Sitting down with his arms hugging his knees over his legs, he nods to her response while viewing an old tree ahead of him. His goggles' lenses become dim, but the colors continue to glow from a close distance.