AliRevellian
PFP: Castiel | INTP-T | Slytherin | Guitar | Saxophone | Baritone | etc.
https://en.pronouns.page/@SkittleMcFrittle
https://en.pronouns.page/@SkittleMcFrittle
🛡️Schedule🛡️
Changes every week, so make sure to check back.
🛡️My time-zone is EST🛡️
22/29 - 4/6
Monday: Available
Tuesday: Available
Wednesday: Available
Thursday: Available
Friday: Available
Saturday: Available
Sunday: Available
🛡️My time-zone is EST🛡️
22/29 - 4/6
Monday: Available
Tuesday: Available
Wednesday: Available
Thursday: Available
Friday: Available
Saturday: Available
Sunday: Available
RP Status: Only motivated for some genres, not all
Current Hyperfixation: Marvel
âš !!Warning: Master procrastinator!!âš
Guten tag, I’m AliRevellian - but you can call me Ali, Adam, Indie, Grant, Rev, or Revellian. I’m always open to new nicknames too.
Yes, I know I’ve rewritten my profile about a million times, but hopefully this will be the last time. First things first, I don’t accept random friend requests. It’s nothing personal, I just like my friend list to be nicely organised. But anyone is totally free to message me about RP or if you just want to talk.
My RP style is pretty flexible for the most part. My favourite genres are psychological horror, dystopian sci-fi, and modern/medieval fantasy. I’m also a fan of more historical fiction RPs. I do not write one-liners and I want my RP partner to do the same. Again, nothing personal, but I prefer 1-3 paragraphs at the very least. More rules, likes, and dislikes can be found here.
I really like music (my two favourite bands are on the opposite ends of the spectrum - AJR and Slipknot) and hockey. My favourite hockey team is the Seattle Kraken. And, of course, I love writing and sharing my stories with people. Please message me for music recommendations, hockey talk, or story/character rants.
I am responsible for the new gremlin, Maho. I apologise for her silly goose behaviour.
🛡️My Spotify Page!🛡️
Where else can you find me?
-Discord: Revellian#5910
-Wattpad: Revellian (Revy Chevy)
-Spotify: Revellian
-Twitch: JiwataPoeta
-TikTok: Ask
-YouTube: Ask
Triggers
Detailed sexual things (fade to black and innuendo is fine) and most kinks, food/eating, anatomy details, stalking, pedophilia, nausea
Starter Example
Some days were worse than other days. Some days, Stefan denied his evil. Other days, he couldn’t stop thinking about how he had hurt the people he loved the most. How he had left them all behind… Adali, Emilia, Kristol, the company, everything. And he was always too adamant to listen to Adali’s warnings. Too stubborn to take her advice. And now here he was, 30 minutes away from Münchner Zentrum für Verhaltensgesundheit - the place he was never supposed to leave.
Aachen was far away enough from Munich for walking to be out of the picture. He would be caught too soon for that. He had to figure out a way to get home. He knew better than to endanger the lives of people, but he couldn’t keep himself away. Adali, Emilia, and Kristol were the only things that had kept him alive this long.
That early morning, however, Munich was storming. Stefan could hardly see an inch in front of him. The only good thing was that it would mask his existence out here - so there was less of a chance the Münchner Zentrum für Verhaltensgesundheit staff wouldn’t find him before he was already too far away. There was no way in hell, though, that Stefan could stay out here. He didn’t even know where he was going.
Stefan had been to Munich plenty of times - he knew the city well, but not well enough through a thunderstorm. What he did know was that there was this abandoned house by a wooded patch that he was certain people hadn’t been in for years. Certainly at such hours, no one would think about being there except for him. All he would do was wait the storm out. Wait the storm out and then find a way to get back to Aachen. Get back to Aachen and see his family again.
Would they even want to see him? Maybe he was as much a disgrace to them as he felt he was.
“Hurensohn,” he growled, tensing up as he picked up his pace. “Gott, wahrscheinlich wünschten sie, du wärst tot-” he tumbled against a wall of an unfamiliar building, hiding his face in his hands as he crumpled to the ground. He grasped the hair on the back of his neck, staring at the stone ground as tears swam in his eyes for the first time in what felt like years.
“Und du verdienst es. Du hast es immer getan,” Stefan spoke softly through a tired voice. “Verflucht die verdammten Götter. Verfluche die verdammten Engel.”
Stefan pulled himself up to his feet, breathing suddenly becoming much harder than it was before. Maybe it was paranoia getting to him. Either way, it didn’t matter. He continued his walk to find that abandoned house. No more breakdowns, no more breakdowns- he brushed some hair out of his face, walking faster moment after moment, like he was running from something that wasn’t visible.
For this brief period of time during his walk to the house, Stefan had never hated the world more. He hated everything, everyone- the world really had left him to die, hadn’t it? There probably was no god. Guardian angels couldn’t be real. If anybody truly felt anything, what did it matter? Everyone dies and everyone suffers. And nothing is done about it. Why did Stefan even want to live in a place like this? Why go back to Aachen if he won’t be welcomed? Why go back to Aachen if he was its enemy? There really was no point.
Despite this, every time an image of Adali, Emilia, or Kristol flashed in Stefan’s mind, he could make himself believe, even for a moment, that not everything was bad. Those three people meant more to him than the whole world. He could never really apologise to them - but he wanted to see them again. After all, Stefan felt that he didn’t have much of a life left in him.
Once the old house came into sight, Stefan slowed his pace, letting the rainwater blind him more and completely dishevel his normally combed back hair. The woods were clearly right behind the house, and the dirt roads began earlier than the trees. An old path led to the front, creaky porch - a path made of mossed over stone and pebbles. The house was a white house with accents of dark wood. Most of the windows were broken. However, there was nothing better than being inside that house - away from the rain in which Stefan hated so much.
Tranquility hardly lasted long though. From an adjacent room, there was a clatter. Stefan didn’t dare see what it was, but assumed it was just an animal of sorts. He walked in a bit further, looking around himself as his paranoia increased. No, it wasn’t an animal. Someone else was there. And Stefan didn’t need to see them to know that they weren’t a good person. But maybe they were just what Stefan needed. He turned around, fully aware that someone was in the hallway behind him. And, of course, he had a gun.
“Du hast gewonnen. Fair und ehrlich. Das ist Ihr Revier,” Stefan spoke up, forcing himself to calm down and no longer be tense. “Wenn Sie schießen wollen, tun Sie es schnell. Bevor ich etwas finde, wofür ich leben kann.”
Stefan slowly moved out his arms, to show the stranger he was an open target. After three quick ear-piercing bangs, Stefan fell to the ground. It wasn’t surprising that Münchner Zentrum für Verhaltensgesundheit had put out a notice for a local threat.
What is this…
Was he not dead?
Stefan opened his eyes, finding himself lying on the ground of an unfamiliar forest. Like last time he had seen the world, it was raining. He reached toward his chest and felt three bullet holes. Pulling his hand away, he definitely saw plenty of blood, but it didn’t hurt too bad. And he was breathing even if he had no pulse.
Though something felt different. Very different. He didn’t feel like Stefan. Something else. He blinked, sitting upright, then quickly standing and dusting the dirt from his clothing. Stefan? Was that even his name? He didn’t think so. The world seemed fuzzier than usual - and almost dull in colour with anything red sticking out from everything else. While he kept telling himself he didn’t know what was happening, there was a part of his mind that told him everything that was missing - and he simply couldn’t convince himself it wasn’t true.
No, he wasn’t Stefan. Stefan was dead - just as he should be. He was Reverie. A demon assigned to the task of creating chaos and corruption. It made so much sense. It sounded better in his mind than life, money, and riches. What had he been thinking?! Being evil felt so much better. Grinning, Reverie laughed hysterically, flipping off the sky and announcing, “***** EUCH GÖTTER. ICH BIN JETZT DEIN FEIND! IST DAS WAS DU WOLLTEST?!”
After a few minutes of elation and excitement, the rain became rather annoying to Reverie, so he walked around the strange forest before finding a cave. Yes. He would stay there until the storm passed.
July 12th, 2:00 AM
Some days were worse than other days. Some days, Stefan denied his evil. Other days, he couldn’t stop thinking about how he had hurt the people he loved the most. How he had left them all behind… Adali, Emilia, Kristol, the company, everything. And he was always too adamant to listen to Adali’s warnings. Too stubborn to take her advice. And now here he was, 30 minutes away from Münchner Zentrum für Verhaltensgesundheit - the place he was never supposed to leave.
Aachen was far away enough from Munich for walking to be out of the picture. He would be caught too soon for that. He had to figure out a way to get home. He knew better than to endanger the lives of people, but he couldn’t keep himself away. Adali, Emilia, and Kristol were the only things that had kept him alive this long.
That early morning, however, Munich was storming. Stefan could hardly see an inch in front of him. The only good thing was that it would mask his existence out here - so there was less of a chance the Münchner Zentrum für Verhaltensgesundheit staff wouldn’t find him before he was already too far away. There was no way in hell, though, that Stefan could stay out here. He didn’t even know where he was going.
Stefan had been to Munich plenty of times - he knew the city well, but not well enough through a thunderstorm. What he did know was that there was this abandoned house by a wooded patch that he was certain people hadn’t been in for years. Certainly at such hours, no one would think about being there except for him. All he would do was wait the storm out. Wait the storm out and then find a way to get back to Aachen. Get back to Aachen and see his family again.
Would they even want to see him? Maybe he was as much a disgrace to them as he felt he was.
“Hurensohn,” he growled, tensing up as he picked up his pace. “Gott, wahrscheinlich wünschten sie, du wärst tot-” he tumbled against a wall of an unfamiliar building, hiding his face in his hands as he crumpled to the ground. He grasped the hair on the back of his neck, staring at the stone ground as tears swam in his eyes for the first time in what felt like years.
“Und du verdienst es. Du hast es immer getan,” Stefan spoke softly through a tired voice. “Verflucht die verdammten Götter. Verfluche die verdammten Engel.”
Stefan pulled himself up to his feet, breathing suddenly becoming much harder than it was before. Maybe it was paranoia getting to him. Either way, it didn’t matter. He continued his walk to find that abandoned house. No more breakdowns, no more breakdowns- he brushed some hair out of his face, walking faster moment after moment, like he was running from something that wasn’t visible.
For this brief period of time during his walk to the house, Stefan had never hated the world more. He hated everything, everyone- the world really had left him to die, hadn’t it? There probably was no god. Guardian angels couldn’t be real. If anybody truly felt anything, what did it matter? Everyone dies and everyone suffers. And nothing is done about it. Why did Stefan even want to live in a place like this? Why go back to Aachen if he won’t be welcomed? Why go back to Aachen if he was its enemy? There really was no point.
Despite this, every time an image of Adali, Emilia, or Kristol flashed in Stefan’s mind, he could make himself believe, even for a moment, that not everything was bad. Those three people meant more to him than the whole world. He could never really apologise to them - but he wanted to see them again. After all, Stefan felt that he didn’t have much of a life left in him.
Once the old house came into sight, Stefan slowed his pace, letting the rainwater blind him more and completely dishevel his normally combed back hair. The woods were clearly right behind the house, and the dirt roads began earlier than the trees. An old path led to the front, creaky porch - a path made of mossed over stone and pebbles. The house was a white house with accents of dark wood. Most of the windows were broken. However, there was nothing better than being inside that house - away from the rain in which Stefan hated so much.
Tranquility hardly lasted long though. From an adjacent room, there was a clatter. Stefan didn’t dare see what it was, but assumed it was just an animal of sorts. He walked in a bit further, looking around himself as his paranoia increased. No, it wasn’t an animal. Someone else was there. And Stefan didn’t need to see them to know that they weren’t a good person. But maybe they were just what Stefan needed. He turned around, fully aware that someone was in the hallway behind him. And, of course, he had a gun.
“Du hast gewonnen. Fair und ehrlich. Das ist Ihr Revier,” Stefan spoke up, forcing himself to calm down and no longer be tense. “Wenn Sie schießen wollen, tun Sie es schnell. Bevor ich etwas finde, wofür ich leben kann.”
Stefan slowly moved out his arms, to show the stranger he was an open target. After three quick ear-piercing bangs, Stefan fell to the ground. It wasn’t surprising that Münchner Zentrum für Verhaltensgesundheit had put out a notice for a local threat.
What is this…
Was he not dead?
Stefan opened his eyes, finding himself lying on the ground of an unfamiliar forest. Like last time he had seen the world, it was raining. He reached toward his chest and felt three bullet holes. Pulling his hand away, he definitely saw plenty of blood, but it didn’t hurt too bad. And he was breathing even if he had no pulse.
Though something felt different. Very different. He didn’t feel like Stefan. Something else. He blinked, sitting upright, then quickly standing and dusting the dirt from his clothing. Stefan? Was that even his name? He didn’t think so. The world seemed fuzzier than usual - and almost dull in colour with anything red sticking out from everything else. While he kept telling himself he didn’t know what was happening, there was a part of his mind that told him everything that was missing - and he simply couldn’t convince himself it wasn’t true.
No, he wasn’t Stefan. Stefan was dead - just as he should be. He was Reverie. A demon assigned to the task of creating chaos and corruption. It made so much sense. It sounded better in his mind than life, money, and riches. What had he been thinking?! Being evil felt so much better. Grinning, Reverie laughed hysterically, flipping off the sky and announcing, “***** EUCH GÖTTER. ICH BIN JETZT DEIN FEIND! IST DAS WAS DU WOLLTEST?!”
After a few minutes of elation and excitement, the rain became rather annoying to Reverie, so he walked around the strange forest before finding a cave. Yes. He would stay there until the storm passed.
Reply Example
Estevan sure wouldn't get rid of her. Leaving Voca Sanguis wasn't something a person could so simply do. In fact, it was a long time rule that once you're in you may never leave. A lot of people had tried and they had been killed. That was because Voca Sanguis was strict about nobody outside of Voca Sanguis knowing its location and the people a part of it. Estevan was in the grey area on this rule, and more loose on it - if he could be given a good reason from a person why they should leave, he would let them go. If not, he'd have no choice but to kill them.
But, no, he wouldn't get rid of Ella. Even if that rule didn't exist. He heard what she said though and didn't give a response until they got to medical. He looked at her as they stood outside the door, crossing his arms. "Look," he said with a stern look and tone of voice - very Estevan-esque. "I can't have you dying on us, alright? Seriously, you need to ****ing get help because there's going to be a point where I can't do anything about this anymore. I'm not expecting some magical occurrence so you just happen to no longer be suicidal when you wake up, but you have to be open to the people trying to help you here. You aren't going to get into a hitmen base and be expected to be cared about, because that's not what it's about, but when you're within these walls, it's expected that protection is provided for everyone. Do you understand?" He didn't even wait for her response to that before pushing open the medical door and snapping towards the medics, gesturing sharply to Ella.
Chandler was walking back from tech with a cardboard box in his arm with bolts, wires, and such that were either broken and not usable, or they simply had no use for them. He jumped a bit at the sudden appearance of Tory, dropping a few metal plates and screws from the box. He quickly set the box on the ground as Tory spoke, grabbing the bits that had fallen. It seemed that his hands were shaky, as he dropped them again once he picked them up a couple times. He didn't let this faze him and he just picked them up once more to return them to their rightful place. Getting to his feet, lifting the box again, his eyes drifted to Tory's finally, meeting them directly.
"I don't think you truly understand that I am no help to Ella," he spoke monotonously, not letting even a sliver of emotion show through his voice or fiery eyes. "I'm not saying I don't care about her - I do - but it's out of my control. If anyone has a handle on it, it's The Vice. I doubt she will listen to me."
Now, Chandler wasn't so aware about how bad his turning away affected Ella. After all, he was deeply pained too because of the breakup and still couldn't fully get over it. The appeal of going back to her, hugging her and telling her that everything would be okay was often stronger than his mind, but he always found a way to refuse this want.
But, no, he wouldn't get rid of Ella. Even if that rule didn't exist. He heard what she said though and didn't give a response until they got to medical. He looked at her as they stood outside the door, crossing his arms. "Look," he said with a stern look and tone of voice - very Estevan-esque. "I can't have you dying on us, alright? Seriously, you need to ****ing get help because there's going to be a point where I can't do anything about this anymore. I'm not expecting some magical occurrence so you just happen to no longer be suicidal when you wake up, but you have to be open to the people trying to help you here. You aren't going to get into a hitmen base and be expected to be cared about, because that's not what it's about, but when you're within these walls, it's expected that protection is provided for everyone. Do you understand?" He didn't even wait for her response to that before pushing open the medical door and snapping towards the medics, gesturing sharply to Ella.
Chandler was walking back from tech with a cardboard box in his arm with bolts, wires, and such that were either broken and not usable, or they simply had no use for them. He jumped a bit at the sudden appearance of Tory, dropping a few metal plates and screws from the box. He quickly set the box on the ground as Tory spoke, grabbing the bits that had fallen. It seemed that his hands were shaky, as he dropped them again once he picked them up a couple times. He didn't let this faze him and he just picked them up once more to return them to their rightful place. Getting to his feet, lifting the box again, his eyes drifted to Tory's finally, meeting them directly.
"I don't think you truly understand that I am no help to Ella," he spoke monotonously, not letting even a sliver of emotion show through his voice or fiery eyes. "I'm not saying I don't care about her - I do - but it's out of my control. If anyone has a handle on it, it's The Vice. I doubt she will listen to me."
Now, Chandler wasn't so aware about how bad his turning away affected Ella. After all, he was deeply pained too because of the breakup and still couldn't fully get over it. The appeal of going back to her, hugging her and telling her that everything would be okay was often stronger than his mind, but he always found a way to refuse this want.
🛡️My Theme Song🛡️
And I bid my adieu with one of my favourite videos
AliRevellian's Characters
Rave Reviews
If you are confused about something on the site you can always first come to this guy for help. He is always happy to assist anyone and he is very patient and aproachable. This site has the best mods and admins out of any site ever. So all these qualities about him actually made me think at first he was one of the mods here.
Kind and understanding
Helpful
- ComedyWriter
when i first started rping with him, i thought it was too good to be true. thats why this kudos is lonnnng overdue. this guy is literally SO TALENTED LIKE- if you are not already rping with him, please do, it's so worth it. amazing character portrayal 10/10 do recommend 
Creative ideas
Wonderful writer
- haneulseongie
Creative ideas
Wonderful writer
- See all of AliRevellian's kudos »
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