The Travellers-ChopinXLisztThe Travellers (or: A Sad Sort of Melancholy Melody) A short story.
By V.K. Violette
WARNING: I dont own historical characters, and although I want to be, I am not George Sand. Everything in this story never happened. Also, this fic will contain love between individuals of the same gender. Just deal with it and move on.
A Sad Sort of Melancholy Melody
By: George Sand
Where should I start but here? I sit here alone, at Frederyks old piano which faces the window. I will not touch the keys and butcher their musicality with my non-ability to harmonize, or play music in general. Right now, there are tears running down my face, and words dying on my lips. However, these words shall live on paper. This short story is meant only for one pair of eyes: mine. But I should start with the background.
Chopin was my friend, and I did love him, more than I have ever loved a man- yet I had basically thrust him into the arms of another with my big mouth and my in
Pianistic Fingers-LisztxChopinPianistic Fingers- A short story.Pianistic Fingers-LisztxChopin5 years ago in Historical More Like This
WARNING: This story contains a relationship between two people of the same gender. If you are in anyway affected or take offense to this, do not read.
I don't own Franz Liszt or Frederic Chopin. I do however own most of their compositions on iTunes, a piano, and a copy of the game Eternal Sonata.
Pianistic Fingers- A short story
By: V.K. Violette
Frederic Chopin was sure that he couldnt love somebody.
He simply believed he didnt have the right to love. He supposed it was like the way he wrote his music, wonderful music, but he was always too afraid to play it loud.
He viewed himself as being introverted, sickly, quiet, and meek. In a way, he viewed that all humans were, in some respect. All humans had their weaknesses; alcohol, money, pleasures of the flesh addictions. Chopin thought that he was better weak and helpless in health rather than codependent on substance. But, there is always an outlier in terms that apply to
Medianoche Ch. 12Medianoche Ch. 12Medianoche Ch. 125 years ago in Historical More Like This
WARNING: Composer-slash, gosh.
Chopin had a brooding sort of façade on when Liszt clambored into the carriage with him. Honestly, the Hungarian didnt have a sense whatsoever about what he could have possibly done to the poor man to make him so terse.
Hows Marie? asked Chopin when the carriage started, in an inane attempt at small talk.
I dont know, Liszt replied, offering his companion a small smile. I havent spoken to her since the incident with Monsieur Paganini.
Chopin felt a sense of security from those words. One, he realized, came purely from the entity of envy. Marie was one less obsticle standing between him and Franz. This made him feel worse, as he was never this malicious when it came to other matters.
Franz? Asked Chopin absently, twiddling his thumbs as he gazed out of the window of the carriage at the country scenery- Are you seeing anyone now?
Liszt startled at this
Medianoche Ch. 10Medianoche Ch. 10Medianoche Ch. 105 years ago in Historical More Like This
PLEASE READ THIS: This story contains certain relationships between certain people that other certain people may certainly not be okay with. Certainly, do not read if you are certain you are offended by said certain content. (This was the best disclaimer ever, certainly)
Frederyk Chopin woke up in a fog. His head hurt, and he felt like he had been sleeping hanging upside down from a sofa. He blinked a couple of times before he realized that he was sleeping upside down on a sofa; not to mention the very uncomfortable, hard as a rock but pleasant to look at sofa of Franz Liszt. Chopin tried to remember what had happened that resulted in such a state. The only thing that came to mind was the absurd thought that a cross-dressing woman had barged into Liszts apartment late last night.
Chopin groaned, rubbing his sore head. He was still in his clothes from the day before, and he felt disgusting. It took him a second or two after that to realize
Medianoche Ch. 7Medianoche Ch. 7Medianoche Ch. 75 years ago in Historical More Like This
WARNING: This story contains love between people of the same gender. If you dont like it, dont read it, and I dont want to hear anything of it, you hear me! I will so get Paganini on your ass! And you dont want a daemon violinist on your tail if you can help it, so the threat stands! D:
BEWARE THE TYPOS. MS WORD WAS NOT WORKING FOR ME, THEREFORE I COULD NOT EDIT THIS. I SHALL EDIT IT LATER. </strong>
Franz Liszt felt very uncomfortable walking through the streets on the rough side of Paris- and even more uncomfortable asking the rather grumpy inhabitants of such places about whether theyd seen a boy with glasses and curly red hair run through there.
They all shouted No! Damn borgeois! and slammed the door in the poor pianists face. It was a warm day, pleasant and bright- with not a cloud in the sky. The dirty streets were caked in dust drawn up from galloping carriages. The children wer
Medianoche Ch. 5Medianoche Ch. 5Medianoche Ch. 55 years ago in Historical More Like This
WARNING: THIS IS FICTION. It contains, much later, a relationship between two people of the same gender. Do not like, go bother someone about sparkly vampires.
Paganini saw in front of him a drunk, flushed, and sprawled-out-on-the-couch Franz Liszt. Something stirred within him, a sort of anticipation. The violinist shook these lewd thoughts away. But seeing Liszt in such a position toyed with his mind constantly- much like a child knowing there were cookies in the cookie jar, but still debating on whether or not to take some. A chill passed through the room, a draft beneath the door blowing right into Liszts face, causing him to gasp a bit in his alcohol-induced state. He wasnt sleeping, but he wasnt really awake either.
The feverish look on Liszts face almost sent Paganini over the edge. But at the same time, he didnt want to do anything that would cause him to lose his stay at Liszts house it would ruin his plans
Medianoche Ch. 3Medianoche Ch. 3Medianoche Ch. 35 years ago in Historical More Like This
WARNING: This contains love between two people of the same gender. Deal with it.
Chapter Three: The Wolf and the Word
Honestly, Frederic- you need to help me this time! Liszt pleaded as he sat at a small table located in a small chateau with a rather small Frederic Chopin. Chopin looked slightly perturbed by Liszts frantic attitude.
Im not sure I can, Franz. Not with my illness and its one violin. In all of Paris. Chopin looked away, suddenly flushed.
Yes, yes of course. I know youre not feeling well Frederic. But Im just asking; could you ask around? The next time you play in a salle or something. Just ask. Please?
Chopin let out a petite sigh at his friends desperation but nodded, nonetheless. Franzs face lit up at this gesture, and he emphatically reached over the table to embrace Chopin in a large bear hug. Chopins face turned completely red, but he managed to shakily return Li
Medianoche Ch. 6Medianoche Ch. 6Medianoche Ch. 65 years ago in Historical More Like This
WARNING: If you do not understand this by now, this will contain relationships in which both parties are of the same gender. Go bother someone else about it, if you dont like. Try to start something, and you can kiss Edward Cullen goodbye. Ill feed him to Lestat. Mmm Tasty. (I couldnt resist!)
Paganini ran through the dark streets of Paris, his long limbs looking like a skeletons in the shadow of the moonlight. He didnt have the money to afford a coach, so he had to make it back to Liszts by foot- a feat he detested something awful. Wheezing and out of breath, he climbed the stairs to Liszts flat slowly, his pants coming from his intense exhaustion. He really needed to gain some weight
By the time he got in the door, he almost collapsed, but he couldnt no- he had to make haste. Liszt was snoring happily in his drunken slumber, curled up childishly against a red tasseled pillow. Paganini smiled in spite o
Medianoche Ch. 4Medianoche Chapter 4.Medianoche Ch. 45 years ago in Historical More Like This
[Chopin, Liszt, Paganini centric]
WARNING: Later on this will contain romance between two people of the same Gender. Don't like, don't read, don't hate.
F-franz! Marie stuttered as she saw the Hungarian and his friend in the doorway. Paganini let a small smirk grace his face, and it didnt go unnoticed. Chopin gave the violinist a scathing look in return.
I believe, Paganini began, smirk still in play, that you have a guest, Franz.
Chopin gritted his teeth. What did you do to Marie, Paganini? he asked the Italian bitterly, hatred and accusation rooted in his gaze.
Liszts face contorted into a countenance of skepticism. Yes. I heard just because Franz isnt here Is something wrong? What exactly happened?
Paganini put on a face of feigned innocence. Nothing. I was just comforting Marie, is all. She mistook my act of kindness as an attempt at seducti
Medianoche Ch. 11Medianoche Ch. 11Medianoche Ch. 115 years ago in Historical More Like This
WARNING: This is not a drill. There is not not same-gender relations within these vicinities. There is not not a chance when people whom are offended by this should turn back now. Do not read this.
Medianoche Ch. 9Medianoche Ch. 9Medianoche Ch. 95 years ago in Historical More Like This
WARNING: This is just pointless.
After Achille and Paganinis reunion and the chatting that went on between Liszt and Paganini- (the overjoyed father didnt even ask about how the boy and the pianist knew each other, nor did he really care), Achille soon got bored. He was a ten year old boy. One couldnt expect him to have a lengthy attention span. He finally noticed Chopin, who became flustered at this awareness.
Papa, Achille tugged at Paganinis sleeve, in that irritating way that children do.
What is it? Asked Paganini in a soft, parental tone that didnt sound normal on him.
Papa, who is that man in the doorway?
Paganini grinned. That, my dear boy, is Monsieur Chopin. He is a famous pianist like Monsieur Liszt.
Monsieur Liszt is a pianist?! Achille exclaimed in surprise. Liszt gawked. The boy did not know who he was?!
Paganini had the urge to slap himself in the face.
Medianoche Ch. 1MedianocheMedianoche Ch. 15 years ago in Historical More Like This
(Paganini, Liszt, Chopin centric)
WARNING: This story contains a relationship between two people of the same gender. Dont like, dont read.
I dont own Franz Liszt, Niccolo Paganini, Frederic Chopin or anyone else mentioned.
I suppose I should start this story in the same fashion most cliché horror story authors start their magnum opus, although this is, by far, not my magnum opus, and I am not, by far, a horror story author; but I am getting too far off the topic- beginning this story. So, without further ado:
It was a dark and stormy night.
The Paris streets were soaked with rain, and they gleamed a menacing white when the lightning illuminated the soot-colored sky. It was, perhaps, the worst storm of the century. The pelting rain came down in torrents strong enough to possibly maim a small child. It sounded light on the tin roof almost like the flutes or oboes in this symphony of a storm. The thunder was a timpani, striking fear and sus
Medianoche Ch. 8Medianoche Ch. 8Medianoche Ch. 85 years ago in Historical More Like This
WARNING: Ugh, if you are still reading these disclaimers by the eighth chapter and have a problem with their contents, you, my friend, have issues.
Chopin did not understand why the man tortured him. Could Liszt not see what he was doing to him? The agony of being lead on is something Chopin was not used to bearing. In fact, he wanted to cry, to hold Liszt in his arms and tell him, that for the two or so years Chopin had known the Hungarian, he had had feelings for him. Chopin accepted it as love. He wasnt scared, or angry, or confused- he fell in love, end of story. Gender? Liszt was Liszt. It wasnt men. It was Liszt.
That, he knew, would not stop the onslaught of slander he would get if his love was publicly known. Chopin sat on the edge of Franzs bed, the Hungarian still asleep, clutching onto his pillow fondly, his hair a mess, and his clothes desheveled. But he looked peaceful. Chopin groaned in frustratio
Medianoche Ch. 2Medianoche: Chapter TwoMedianoche Ch. 25 years ago in Historical More Like This
WARNING: This story contains a relationship between two people of the same gender. Don't like, Don't read.
Liszts clothes were a bit small on Paganini, whom looked at himself questioningly in the mirror after he put them on.
Im sorry I dont have the appropriate clothes, Monsieur, Liszt said smoothly, offering Paganini a chair at his dining table, which he took after giving Liszt a look that said Why are you pulling a chair out for me? I can do that myself
Liszt shrunk back from the now back to normal Paganini, and took a seat across from the violinist.
Really, Monsieur, what brought you upon my doorstep this terrible night in such a condition? Liszt asked carefully, hoping Paganini wouldnt get upset with him. To his relief, Paganini answered.
Well, I suppose I drunk a bit too much on my way back to the hotel I was staying at, and I got into a little brawl. I won the brawl, but then my opponen
Eulogy. For you, my angel.Dear Terry,Eulogy. For you, my angel.4 years ago in Letters More Like This
how could any words ever tell what you mean to me?
I don't say "meant",
because you haven't gone away,
you are right here, beside me,
you're telling me not to be sad,
telling me everything's gonna be just fine,
like you always used to tell me.
Yes, my world stopped that night I got the message.
Yes, I think I died then.
I didn't believe you would leave this planet before me,
and definitely not like that, so suddenly, so soon...
I don't know if I'll ever accept it,
I don't know how I'll go on here without your words...
But you are with me. You never left me. You never will.
You are here. You are in my heart.
You always were my angel. You always believed in me.
You always gave me hope. You were always there for me.
You will always be my angel.
No one could ever take your place. No one, ever.
I will always love you, Terry. There is no other you.
You meant the world to me, from the very beginning.
You made me believe in myself, when no one else did.
You taught me how to love my
Medianoche Ch. 15Medianoche Ch. 15Medianoche Ch. 155 years ago in Historical More Like This
Warning: I dont care if you dont. (Use your imagination)
A/N: We will return to our composers dont worry. This is a plot chapter.
Achille and his now romantically involved companions awoke after a short (or in said romantically involved companions case, long) nap to a loud slam.
Achille shot up and immediately rushed to the window to see what it was. Rosso and Vivien just looked at each other and shrugged before joining him.
Their eyes immediately locked on a figure running hurriedly down the street. One with a shock of dark curly hair that reminded them eerily of one
A look of panic took over Rossos face, as he turned to Achille who just stared at the rapidly dissappearing figure.
Um, Rosso started.
Dont say anything. Said Vivien under her breath.
Achille turned to the two, his face an eerie white, disbelief slapped on his features.
I cant believe Papa for..for..forgot me!
Heartiful servey-Quiz Thingy1 .Liscence and registration please..JK, how many fandoms do you have?Heartiful servey-Quiz Thingy5 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
2 .Do you know how to swim?
3. What do you want as a job in your future?
4. Name a song that describes you
5. Have any illnesses/diseases/disabilities?
6. A famous question...Ninjas or Pirates?
7. Another famous question...Turkey or ham?
8. We all have an inner child in us...Do you have a favorite toy?
9. Ever been hospitalized? Was it epic?
10. Who's your hero?
11. If you were stuck on an island what would you do?
12. I'll give you 6 random letters..Make a word... (A C L T R I )
13. Favorite Dessert? Not desert..But if you wanna include that, okay
15. Favorite pie flavor? If you don't like pie, then what kind of cake do you like?
16. Someone offers you 1 million dollars, there is a catch though, you must cut off your leg...Do you do it?
17. What do the words "Berries and cream" mean to you?
18. Pepsi or coke?
19. Favorite kind of pizza?
20. Got any "special talents"?
21. Can you dance? What type of dance style is i
Ode To Michigan WintersOde To Michigan WinterOde To Michigan Winters5 years ago in Ballad More Like This
'Twas the night before the night before Christmas, and all through the town,
Not a creature was stirring, not even my hound.
The roads were covered in snow and the plows were gone,
In hopes that it'll warm up later so to get their fucking job done.
My door is frozen shut, as well as my car,
But it didn't matter to me; even in 4WD I couldn't get very far.
The snow is two feet high, no chance in going anywhere soon so I fear,
While Chris Caffery keeps telling the world just how bad it is up here.
RespectWe sit in our blocks of flatsRespect5 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
making drama in our heads
searching for things to complain about
watching the time run out
while nature fights for its existence
cruel evidence of this breed
man thinks he can rule everything
but without trees he couldn't breathe
we should learn to respect the nature
and stop digging our own grave
man should learn respect from animals
no other breed destroys this planet like us
we only care for the moment
but our children, will they have their moment?
A yearA long yearA year3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
with you gone
and still strongly
never far away
I remember the day
I found a white feather
behind the snowy window
and I didn't know
how it crashed me
I fell into pieces
it just couldn't be
It's been a long year
but you haven't left
and you never will
and a thought of you
Kitty love poemLittle paws and kitty nosesKitty love poem4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
waking me up every day
I have a reason to live
those furry children
they love me as I am
and they comfort me
when I'm feeling sad
my kittycats love me
with all their kitty hearts
so I can't be that bad
Her Protective BrotherIt was to be said that quaint little villages out in the middle of the countryside and cut off from civilisation were a thing of the past. It would be considered cliché to think of a village fitting that description to have an old, homely manor belonging to a wealthy family who had been there for generations. And even worse to imagine a rickety old church, loved by the people but decayed from age.Her Protective Brother6 years ago in Scraps More Like This
The thing about these quaint little villages was that they didnt change much with time. People may consider them to be mostly fictional but this was because they only heard about them in books, they didnt see them with their own eyes. However, Amane did see this village with her own eyes. She was a young girl and had never known anything other than this village. To her the manor was a home and the church was part of the scenery.
Although not so much part of the scenery at the moment, but home to something that she considered to be ver
Little profile story 4 MySpaceLittle profile story 4 MySpace6 years ago in Historical More Like This
I am Emily Maria Magdalena de Lestrange. I live with my man and King of France Louis August at Versailles since i left my 21st century when i was 22. Back then, in my older "world" i lived back in days with Isabelle my best friend in a 2 person flat share near our university in Berlin=Germany. We both studied art history and shared the hobby about France history. My hobby are still to draw. A few pictures in Versailles are from me now.*s* I´m also the nanny of the 4 children of my darling, my little angels...alas...but one of them is not his own...its from the Count Hans Axel von Fersen...but we Louis and I love our little Bea like the others. And here in Versailles the fact that the Queen had/have a affair is nothing new. Nobody else, only my new best friend Mirelle Countess de Girodel know what Louis and i feel really for each other. But i think our children know it too and of course Marie. But it makes no difference to me. At the first time, people whisper secretly behind my
A Letter - 1776"My dear Sir." Rutledge stopped his hand trembling. Seconds passed before he put it back to the paper.A Letter - 17767 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"My dear Dickinson, my dear John. You've been gone far too long, three months and I'm dying. That's one moon cycle – walking around town at midnight isn't the same anymore. I miss you, your presence intoxicating and now that you've left it's driving me insane. True, you'll be back soon if the weather holds but still, it's painful.
Congress has been, well, congress. You haven't missed much. Adams keeps trying to push the independence issue now that you are not here but don't worry, it won't go through."
Again he paused not sure what to write – what he wanted to write. His hand slipped up his leg stroking against his crotch. His eyes fluttered close as he rubbed. He wanted Dickinson between his legs licking and sucking – his warm breath on him. A little smile as he began writing again.
"You'll probably hate me for t
The LORD'S Plea of SalvationThere was no other way for me,The LORD'S Plea of Salvation3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
To redeem my children lost.
The means of which to do this feat,
Was sending you my Son
Down I sent him to your midst,
An infant first, the Son of Man;
He walked among you with my love,
With him I was so pleased
But as he showed you who I AM,
Through miracles and wisdom deep,
Your hearts of stone sang hatred bold;
Redemption was at hand!
I gave him over to your plot,
Fulfilling all I said I would.
You beat and mocked him, laughed and spat;
My Lambyou slaughter him!
But through his blood spilled in your stead,
The path to cleanse your sin is him,
From death to life, again; he lives!
This plea I bid to all
Turn, repent and dwell with me
My Son's gift is for you.
And as new hearts each day are wed
Unto meour spirits one
With leaps and bounds my yearning grows
To take you home my bride.