Response to Review: One for his God, Living in memories, Magic is the last hope (2 cap) for her
last reply to reviews!
only to his God
@ Kago Yumi: Thanks for your reviews! I'm glad that this fanfiction has hit you. " this ... is the best I've read! "Wow, you make me blush ^////^
student @ 95: that is, both on the forum that you commented on EFP! I am so pleased, thank you! * W * @
MetalPawa: thanks to you who have reviewed it, I never experienced what I have described, so I'm glad you wrote seems fine.
Living in memories
@ Celtic_spirit: oh, yes, Arthur is a great tsundere! I'm glad you like it, even if it is a topic which is discussed very often in fanfiction
Magic is the last hope (Chapter 2 - Where the adventure finally begins)
How many reviews! * A * @
Kago Yumi: Thank you for your review! No matter how it is written, I just know what you think. I hope the fanfiction you seem more interesting with the progress of the chapters! I always fear that something is not wireless (this is the first fantasy I write, but I imagine XD) ... Thanks for the compliments!
@ Feli92: ah, I'm glad to have tickled your fancy and that you like! Let me know if you will like the hero! ^ ^ @
Revy21: You won! That's right, the woman is Belarus (on the Ukraine I think just like you!), You can ask me any request for a fanfiction! Ivan had some doubts at first, so I feel relieved to see that you like, same thing for the choice of the fantasy genre. I also like, so I'm quite stubborn when I read them, then know that another passionate like my fanfiction reassures me. Will update soon!
But how the heck of points esclamativi metto? °-°
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Replacing A Lock On A Tool Box
Only God
Title: Only for her God
Characters/Pairings: France/ Jeanne d'Arc
Genre: melancholy, introspective, sentimental
Warnings: flashfic, angst
Notes: this fanfiction was originally in Italian, I wrote and translated it, I think I made some mistakes. So if you find any, please tell me, and I'll correct. This is the italian version.
May 1431
Stake. When he hear the news, Francis falls in the mud on his knees, shocked, and tears begin to rule his face. Yet he had known it since she was captured by the British, aided by French themselves , how it would end. But he couldn’t help but hope, to believe in the God who had sent her, just as she had taught him. Jeanne.
She had healed him from the wounds of Crecy, Poitiers, Azincourt, Reims, guided by God. Just sixteen years old, she had joined hands with him and showed that not all was lost.
He recalls her blonde, beautiful even in that armor too big for her, smiling at him just before her last battle. She does it with serenity, even though she knows that death might be near.
She smiles because she knows she has done her duty, only for her God, and she doesn’t mind how much might be frightening or painful her future.
"I'll protect you," with this words she reassures him, her blue eyes that shine with a strength previously unknown to Francis. And with that strength, he feels he can do anything.
After that, Paris. Francis cursed softly. He cannot easily forgive them, the Burgundians who had given her to the British.
He lifts up his eyes to heaven, where it is certain that she has flown recently. Jeanne, the first love of his life. Although she did it only for her God, Francis couldn’t not love her, France couldn’t not love her.
-Thank you for everything you did- he whispers to the sky. -You taught me how to hope, to fight, you made me stronger. Your life...- he interrupts himself when a new tear fell from his eyes. -... your life has not been lost in vain. I’ll become a better man and nation, like who you saw in me. But you ... please… don’t stop lead me... Jeanne-
A shy sunshine’s ray holes the dark clouds covering the sky, even though it is May, and gently caresses Francis’s face. And he is sure that she, Jeanne d'Arc, the Maid of Orleans, France’s heroine and his first love, has listened him and whispers that maybe all she had done wasn’t only for her God.
Title: Only for her God
Characters/Pairings: France/ Jeanne d'Arc
Genre: melancholy, introspective, sentimental
Warnings: flashfic, angst
Notes: this fanfiction was originally in Italian, I wrote and translated it, I think I made some mistakes. So if you find any, please tell me, and I'll correct. This is the italian version.
May 1431
Stake. When he hear the news, Francis falls in the mud on his knees, shocked, and tears begin to rule his face. Yet he had known it since she was captured by the British, aided by French themselves , how it would end. But he couldn’t help but hope, to believe in the God who had sent her, just as she had taught him. Jeanne.
She had healed him from the wounds of Crecy, Poitiers, Azincourt, Reims, guided by God. Just sixteen years old, she had joined hands with him and showed that not all was lost.
He recalls her blonde, beautiful even in that armor too big for her, smiling at him just before her last battle. She does it with serenity, even though she knows that death might be near.
She smiles because she knows she has done her duty, only for her God, and she doesn’t mind how much might be frightening or painful her future.
"I'll protect you," with this words she reassures him, her blue eyes that shine with a strength previously unknown to Francis. And with that strength, he feels he can do anything.
After that, Paris. Francis cursed softly. He cannot easily forgive them, the Burgundians who had given her to the British.
He lifts up his eyes to heaven, where it is certain that she has flown recently. Jeanne, the first love of his life. Although she did it only for her God, Francis couldn’t not love her, France couldn’t not love her.
-Thank you for everything you did- he whispers to the sky. -You taught me how to hope, to fight, you made me stronger. Your life...- he interrupts himself when a new tear fell from his eyes. -... your life has not been lost in vain. I’ll become a better man and nation, like who you saw in me. But you ... please… don’t stop lead me... Jeanne-
A shy sunshine’s ray holes the dark clouds covering the sky, even though it is May, and gently caresses Francis’s face. And he is sure that she, Jeanne d'Arc, the Maid of Orleans, France’s heroine and his first love, has listened him and whispers that maybe all she had done wasn’t only for her God.
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