Hey there, Baby Rebel/Viola here (Either name works.) to help you with your roleplay needs! Hover over to the What I Do before requesting anything, dearies!
ღ is superglued to Keir-reviews
ღ is in the goat tribe with Goat-inspires
ღ Is glued to Aliyahofrp
Tracking: babyrebelhelps & babyrebel helps
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So I just heard that vanishrp copied a roleplay Rhea and I made a few months ago called birthdayrpg.

I’m still investigating things and I’m trying not to let my emotions overtake everything right now, but I just read the plot and it seems exactly the same.

For now, I want to ask that you guys hold off from applying until we can get into contact with their admins. Please reblog and signal boost this!

Thank you for your cooperation.

-Zoey. x

"Just know that I love you. I love you with all of my fucked up, piece of shit heart."


now all your love is wasted / and then who the hell was i? — {}

001. the civil wars + the one that got away | 002. ryan adams + come pick me up | 003. the kooks + you don’t love me | 004. sufjan stevens + i walked | 005. the early november + tell me why | 006. foals + bad habit | 007. the neighbourhood + w.d.y.w.f.m? | 008. james blake + life round here | 009. fiona apple + regret | 010. haim + my song 5 | 011. now now + separate rooms | 012. little joy + keep me in mind | 013. surfer blood + i was wrong | 014. bastille + things we lost in the fire | 015. the maine + these four words | 016. elliott smith + oh well, okay | 017. right away, great captain! + i’m not ready to forgive you | 018. ray lamontagne + lesson learned | 019. daughter + youth | 020. washed out + a dedication


Don’t call me unfeeling. Don’t.

Call me bitch, call me whore, call me slut - I can deal with that. I can take those words, I can take bitch and wear it like armor. I can take bitch and cloak myself in it, throw it round my shoulders and thread it through my hair. Bitch is music to my ears, a reason for me to bare my teeth, a symphony that sharpens my tongue and will cut you down.

Whore is red lips and black leather boots and every reason you can’t have me. Whore is a reflection upon yourself; it’s your lust and your shortcomings and the poison that builds up inside you when you realise that I’m not going to lay down and let you skewer me. It’s the bullshit that you tell yourself, the acid you feel in the base of your throat that spews out in the form of this word because I am not yours.

Slut is nothing. Slut is your last resort, the stuttering shreds of insults you - and every one like you - fall back on because you think it will hurt. You think I’ll cower at a four letter word that’s stolen from slave drivers, from pedophiles, the scum of the fucking earth. You think that it can tear me down? You think that the gross double standard can strip the steel from my back and make me close my lips and be silent?

Bitch, whore, slut. It makes no difference. They’re words you spit in my face, hot and hateful, when I’m too big for you. When I tower above your sniveling form, these are the pathetic insults that you vomit from your slimy little lips in the hope that they will chip away at my walls.

I will walk away. I will laugh, and it will be a thousand times sharper than anything you could muster. I’ll leave you, embittered by your own tongue, cowering in the shadows. I’ll leave you to your muttered fury, the kind that cannot even hope to challenge mine - I’ll leave you to your supposed niceties. I’ll smirk at the dichotomy, the bitch and nice guy in the same space, the same breath.

But don’t call me unfeeling. Don’t mistake my strength for callousness. I feel more than you could imagine. I am black fury before a storm, I am pink sunset, I am the glory of burnt orange sunrise meeting unsullied blue - I feel, and it exists under my skin. It’s fire and ice, mixing and roiling and spitting and erupting in steam that blows the hair back from your face. I am passionate, I am human.

Don’t reduce me to paper and ink. Don’t tell me I’m there for you to lust after. I am anger, and sadness, and love, and happiness. I am every colour of the rainbow splashed across canvas, across skin, and I will not be simplified by the likes of you.

w.b.s writing (via whatbethsays)


Baby V, I’ve been following you the entire time you’ve had this account and I miss you lots and wish you would come back from hiatus dangit and you’re just v. sweet and helpful and yes.

omg I nearly teared up reading this <3 ;A; I miss you so much too and ily and you are so sweet I just fhsofdsjckdjzas -glomps- 

Night Island's Main || Full Plot || Rules || Characters || Inquiries

Your pain is my pleasure..

   I want to make it last, I want to watch you suffer..

First rule on the Island: You don’t belong to yourself anymore.. and you won’t be leaving..

Off the coast of Florida, near the Keys, is a remote Caribbean isle whose name is only spoken of in whispers and urban legends: Night Island

Supernatural clans of vampires and werewolves have made it their home, with the intent of ruling a land without the risk of human society discovering them. Undisturbed, their archaic beliefs and savagery led them to start kidnapping hapless humans from the world outside of the Island’s borders, trafficking them onto Night Island and putting the humans in what the vampires and werewolves believe is their rightful place— beneath them— as slaves.

Will the outsiders of supernatural creatures and hunters alike lurking on the fringes of this unwholesome society destroy it? Or will they manage to remain in the shadows, hidden in the secrecy they built Night Island to achieve? Only time will tell.

Call me your Master..

    I call you my whore..

Get down on your knees.

   Can you handle the violence, shoulder the pain?

Now close your eyes..

An original BDSM supernatural slave/Master rpg, and we do accept OCs
"It was a love story between the boy who was drowning and the girl who helped him breathe again."
Unknown (via clamatix)



[LP] - [PB]

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