JoelleDHaskell
Fandoms
- World of Warcraft (5)
- Homestuck (4)
- Avatar: The Last Airbender (1)
- Warcraft (1)
Recent works
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Summary
Cries of Deathwing's glory arose. Her grin spread wider, revealing a feral smile to the gums. "Now we take this Dark Portal and redirect it to a new world, untouched by the Titans, where the elements rule unfettered! We will draw upon their raw power and take it for ourselves! FOR OUR MASTERS!"
Twilight Cultists accidentally summon the Gaang and scatter them across Azeroth.
- Words:
- 1,706
- Chapters:
- 5/?
- Comments:
- 1
- Hits:
- 65
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Summary
After his latest tear-inducing tirade on what mommies and daddies do when they love each other very much, illustrated with a puppet show, he tossed his dirty plush toys over his shoulder, drew a beer bottle from thin air, and cracked the cap off on the arm of his heirloom rocking chair OH MY GOD.
Just watching him, she felt the property values of her beautiful New York neighborhood depress like a table bowing under an elephant's behind. Do you see her contempt, Mr. Stupid Pointy Shades? You're an elephant sitting on her property values, and the real estate is cracking under the weight of all these mixed metaphors.
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Summary
Thoughts of armies scattered in piecemeal across a checkerboard battlefield tore through the Vagabond's mind. He couldn't do it again. He couldn't make a million more people just to kill them all again.
The Questant commanded nothing of them. She merely explained their situation. She gestured to the star newly looming in the sky, slowly growing larger.
The Exiles play their own session of Sburb.
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Summary
"I'm Dave and I like to make fat beats and break swords in half and purrtend I'm too cool to roleplay."
"Okay, first off, that's 'phat', I can tell you're saying it with an 'f'. Second, I don't like to break swords, they just fall apart at my touch, they can't keep it together like they're a particularly hysterical dame with a strong case of the vapors and I'm an uncouth gentleman making them unfit for marriage, and third -- "
"I love to make metafurs, I make metafurs like I'm a big metafur chef, baking up huge boxes of metafurs so I can eat them for every meal for every day!"
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Summary
You hated her, really thrillingly hated her. You had to make her pay. You had to collect her like a prize, stable her like livestock, keep her polished and dumb in a glass case like a pretty red jewel and make a mockery of her, to stoke that spitting forge of anger and strength and then to muzzle it, to fill her heart with enough of the blackest oil that she would go ablaze at the smallest flick of a match.
- Words:
- 2,453
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Kudos:
- 2
- Hits:
- 145