(Source: )


friendship is sharing sad otp headcanons and laughing as u watch ur friend cry


do you ever just

not mind a ship

but the shippers

the shippers


(Source: captaincharminghood)


why do people make viruses like why do you have to be an asshole

me: should i make a sarcastic comment or not





(releases a torrent of hot fresh piss on people who pretend to be friends with artists so they get free art)



I wish Nero had actually had a Doppelganger…

I wish you would stop posting unsourced art but as you can see, life isn’t fair :’( 
Pixiv ID: 33189484Member: 夢灯龍泉(●ω・)(・∀・)〜



I wish Nero had actually had a Doppelganger…

I wish you would stop posting unsourced art but as you can see, life isn’t fair :’( 

Pixiv ID: 33189484
Member: 夢灯龍泉(●ω・)(・∀・)〜



oh man I would reblog your fabulous graphic but it’s just so much easier to right click, select ‘save file’, pick a folder, name the file, go to my dashboard, open a new photo post, click ‘upload’, find where I saved the file, select it, wait for it to load, tag it, and repost it gosh darn


me trying to find backspace (via masuhararin)

so I’m playing DMC1 again on a psx2 emulator… Tell me if it doesn’t rock :D Looks better than the official HD edition!
The game is really good in general, and playing it on the proper settings really brings out everything it has to offer- from the beautiful level design to smooth game mechanics.

You can never recognize that is a game that came out 13 years ago…

(Source: ukenceto)




Not so friendly reminder to cut your god dang posts, guys. (⊙‿⊙✿)

Through the looking glass|| Open Rp


Finally his shelter from the world had been returned. He had earned himself a few more good scars that had decided not to heal and he did not need to hear anyone question about them since his patience had already been wearing thin. The joke was not something he was in the mood for today, nor was he in the mood for the prince’s actions, but if he had business with the family then he could not do anything to cause the male anymore discomfort than he already had.

Such a shame, here he thought he had come to visit him personally— he always did have fun messing with the lightning guardian. The way he had tensed up just by him ceasing his pacing and just striking for his hound’s helm back was all the more delicious; he knew that some day he would be able to have his fun but for now teasing would have to suffice. A dark chuckle escaped the soldier’s lips upon his comment about his choice in armor, though he did know of what happened when the prince’s element crossed within the realm of his own and it was not pretty.

"Yea yea, whatever helps you sleep at night prince I-." He paused upon the next comment that was made by the raven haired male, looking down at the collar that now wrapped around his neck. It was something that he had not wanted to discuss; the army had decided that it had been time he had showed his true potential and with that to release his true form. The collar alone was enchanted to keep the inner devil under control until given the appropriate order to release himself and until he learned how to control it on his own.  "Pft, hardly. My masters do not need to keep an eye on me. This collar is used for other reasons that you lightning breeds wouldn’t understand." The hound hissed not wanting to speak of it any longer; this was not anything he needed to know.

"So what does his Royal brat want with the family, hm? or is it classified?" He teased beginning to pace once more around Alastor. He had been curious as to why someone like him would travel all this way when most of the time his people wanted nothing to do with them not even their help. All the same there was nothing he could do about it unless given permission by the family themselves to be rid of him. For now he would have to show the utmost respect to him when in front of his masters but out here he could have all the fun he wanted for as long as he was not needed.

He did not know how much longer he was going to be around to have fun with the prince so he was going to enjoy every last second of it. He had been given orders that he was to leave in time to go and scout out the enemy side of hell that they had currently been fighting, learn their battle plans and eventually wipe them out completely. Once that was finished with, he did not know of his place within the army or if they would even need him anymore if they won this war. 

The answer did little to sate his curiosity. It could very well have been a lie crafted to keep him quiet or to make the guardian seem more important than he really was. Regardless, Alastor didn’t like the answer and his expression grew tense behind the helm. You continue to hide things from me.

The hellhound took to pacing around the prince once more, and asked of his business in the Frost Hell. “Nothing you need to worry your pretty little face about, mutt,” he trilled teasingly, “simple business, looking to cut a deal with your masters.”

He turned on his heels and closed the distance between them and in a fluid motion he hooked his fingers under the hound helm once more and pried it off in the same manner as before, but this time— heheh— he ‘accidentally' underestimated his strength and sent the helm sailing over his shoulders and into the open air.

                                                                          the helm fell into the chasm below and perhaps it made a sound as it hit, but the howling wind drowned the noise coming from there.

Oops." Alastor brushed his hands together as if ridding himself of something unclean. That wouldn’t be a lie, really. That hound skull was disgusting. “Now as I was saying, I’m here for business. I suggest you be prepared.” He gave a quick cant of his head to the side, “You might have to call me 'Master' if things go as planned for my kingdom.”

Negotiations were nothing new in any realm; with the Frost Hell at war and a few well-placed strikes away from acquiring new land and all that entailed, they would be willing to part with some of their ‘less-needed’ assets.
After their victory. Of course, if the other Hell pulled an upset, the Thunder Hell would be glad to pick up the pieces and get their neighbors in this realm back on their feet… for a price.

Alastor gave the hellhound the once-over and pulled him close, by the collar. “Would you like to start practice now? I have a few minutes to kill before the meeting.” The smirk he had was so obvious it was audible.

Imagination doesn’t just mean making things up. It means thinking things through, solving them, or hoping to do so, and being just distant enough to be able to laugh at things that are normally painful. Head teachers would call this escapism, but they would be entirely wrong. I would call fantasy the most serious, and the most useful, branch of writing there is. And this is why I don’t, and never would, write Real Books.

Diana Wynne Jones, “Why Don’t You Write Real Books?” (via ballerinaduck)