jpgFury

Good Parent You don't need to tell me gently Or try to soften the blow I know that I'm not a good parent I know what everyone knows, but no one says aloud That a good parent loves their children Cherishes each one equally A natural balancing of their affection I love them, the two who have slept in my arms But there is one I love without fail Who is without flaw or fault Impossibly perfect in every way You know who you are, my child that never was Lost to me before you had ever lived My first who was never born For my flawed body couldn't hold you I am sorry that I never knew you, the perfection and the faults I have mou

Apostrophe I do not like the apostrophe, the harridan of our language The way it slips in unnoticed, and takes the place of another Replacing sounds and letters, like your mistress in my bed But then again, perhaps I'm simply too territorial.

Someone 'kindly', and publicly, pointed out on my dA page that GRRM does not like people using his characters or world in fanfic. I did some digging and his (not a) blog has an entry that is pretty clear about his views. (Remove the spaces to see: ht tp://grrm.livejournal.com/151914.ht ml) While I disagree with some of his arguments, after much soul searching, I have decided to not continue this story and will take it down soon. While I don't appreciate the negative and somewhat condescending comments about 'what is called fan fiction today' in GRRM's post, I feel I need to respect his request not to use his stuff. The master doesn't like o

Unexpected Healing - Chapter 3 At first Sandor drifted in the dreamless sleep he so craved – a sleep equally devoid of memory and of desire – but after some time he slowly began to surface from his reprieve. Eyes still closed, more asleep than not, he listened to the sounds of wind and rain, and tried remember where exactly he was. This wasn't his room in the Red Keep for it was little more than a windowless cell and the stonework far too thick for him to hear even the worst weather. An inn or brothel, perhaps... But no, the smell wasn't right. Instead of the familiar odour of ale, unwashed bodies, and lust all he could detect was

Unexpected Healing *** Prologue The last three days had been a blur of wine sinks and brothels as Sandor put his winnings from the Hand's tourney to good use. The twenty thousand gold awarded to the Hound when Loras Tyrell ceded the field opened the doors of the city's finest establishments, as well as the legs of the city's finest whores. The only problems with such places, as Sandor soon found, were the patrons. The young nobles and wealthy traders that frequented them had pointedly ignored his presence when he was simply Joffrey's Hound. Now, they practically fell over themselves to talk to the champion of the Hand's Tourney – the

There was no beauty in me until your name was etched on my soul, your fingerprints patterned my skin, and your taste painted my lips. Then I became exquisite