#historiacorta

[cosmefuianito666]

【“Expectations”】 (TheDevil)

In the widest cloud, marble pillars reach upward like thousands of arms of an awakening colossus; polished sapphire ceilings projecting the endless cosmic dance; silver obsidian floors lining below; iridescent windows to see the stars, those that were born, turned and consumed with the passing of everything.

God's castle was huge, impossible to measure.

In one of his bedrooms, in one of the most immense, in a great cotton and gold bed, one of the princes pretended to sleep. His face was wrinkled against the pillow, hoping and hoping, desperately that his own lie would deceive him. He had been lying to himself like this for years. Without dreams, entering the bed meant being trapped in the restless emptiness of the heart, and waiting to be found or find his rest in his unconscious body.

The ghost of the things he hadn't done yet, of the flaws he had to repair, tormented him in his mind. Whispering words too cruel to be said and heard by others, but with which he, unfortunately, had already gotten used to dealing.

Sleeping was difficult for him since Father entrusted him with their respective responsibilities. Fulfilling his new duties was a challenge that he knew every prince had to face coming of age, except that the new had never been so confusing and complicated as before. Those countless times when he had been first now came back to him in countless times when he was last.

The fear of failing terrified him.

His restlessness slid him out of bed and he dragged his feet to the desk in order to dispel those thoughts. He licked his thumb, smiling as a small bluish flame formed. He lit a large candle next to him and with his magic drew several scrolls which he unfolded and advanced one by one.

All night, still deprived of recess, his mind went on with work. Swimming slower meant he had to start longer even if getting up early didn't reward him. His eyes and mind would burn, but the sensation of moving forward slightly eased the ache in his soul at failure.

What Father wanted was done, and it was done.

Sooner rather than later, the clarity of dawn received him through his balcony; preventing fatigue from taking it away. With a hiss, he straightened and gazed in admiration at the trio of scrolls he had finished.

Progress is progress.

Sparks of pride crackled like wood on fire, the shadow of a faint smile joyfully crossing his face before a sleepy yawn left him.

Slowly, he walked back to the bed and dumped his boneless body there, preparing to rest at least a little until some servant called him to continue his endless duty.

In the dark silence of his mind, comfort appeared, like a bird that leaves his cage, and that close to him cooed. Promising him that in the morning of the next day freedom and happiness would knock on his door again.

How naive I was.

With a bang the huge golden door opened to admit, seconds later, whipping furiously behind to slam shut. The bedroom was again in a heavy silence, but not a calm one. Blue flames writhed on his back like snakes that were provoked, small lamb's horns growing in size until they curved with each hectic breath.

Back and forth he paced the room, strong hands holding his head, trying to concentrate on stopping his reaction. Some time later, his footsteps slowed down until he stood still. He slid through the door until he hit the ground. He looked at the contents in his hand, there rested a new and larger scroll.

The angel squeezed him, slightly digging into his silver claws in the process.

Tired, that was.

Work had always been hard for him. Long, cryptic, boring. Asking his brothers for help was impossible, since they were busy too. Each of these new problems he learned and solved to the best of his ability. Even if that didn't, that didn't fulfill more expectations.

Unpunctual, careless and incorrect.

Intentions sometimes all they earned him was bitter consolation for "trying," according to Father. But he wouldn't stop until he won her love and pride.

━━━Father! I did it!━━━ he would sing happily as he handed over his scrolls.

God, as has become the custom, would not attend to him immediately until he had finished discussing his important matters with the other divinities.

He waited and waited. He could wait. The passing of the millennia taught him that patience is paramount with Father, since since the Vision struck him he has only had eyes for his most ambitious project: The universe. In fact, that was precisely what he was talking about now with those cherubs and angels. The conversation seemed to have no end...

━━━Father.━━━Lucifer asked for attention again, leaning closer.

The voices continued as if nothing had happened.

The angel snorted under his breath and forced himself to swallow the bitter swallow of waiting. That enthusiasm and emotion that invaded him slowly faded until the creak of the monumental door showed him that he could return from his trip to the subconscious.

━━━I brought you my finished work.

With golden magic, the scrolls were drawn from him to be read. Lucifer played with the hem of his robe as his Father judged his performance to himself. A chill ran down his spine, he didn't know if it was from fear or excitement.

The scroll disappeared in a golden cloud, indicating that it was correct.

Lucifer looked up at Father's face, longing for a smile or hearing words of encouragement for his good work.

"This is your new task"

But all he got was more scrolls to complete.

Thus, the king of heaven continued with his plans for the perfect creation until the sun set again. While his eldest son, disappointed, stayed in his bedroom until the moon came out.

He tossed the scrolls away and wept.

He hated with such fervor each new task that his Father entrusted to him; he hated that feeling that pushed him like a hungry animal to break his mind trying to satisfy him.

How did he tell her no?

[barbaracgsblog]

Historias Cortas de Terror Y Cuentos - La niña de la Curva (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1304922761-historias-cortas-de-terror-y-cuentos-la-ni%C3%B1a-de-la?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=BrbaraCupeiroGamez&wp_originator=%2BRQ0Uolh5M3DB1nMVer%2FwCAD4id6lyftxVFffGkQdvM18l0CWJ4BoThioXa40NEKjNzRCcuSn6%2BzvYH7%2BcuVeEfqU%2BVO5YwwA1xcF0vbxv6ha3Y4MRze4%2BhJBAPsdEcl Aquí publicaré historias de miedo creadas por mi misma, y si os gustan dejar un like y un comentario. Todo relacionado con la realidad es mentira, es ficción. No me hago cargo de la tardanza de las actualizaciones, lo haré cuando pueda. Tampoco me hago cargo y o responsable, de los daños psicológicos, o miedo, que la persona pueda sufrir después de leer la historia corta o cuento.

[darkgravedigger08]

Je t'aime

CAPÍTULO UNO:

Fran Delier:

El sentido de muchas palabras, de muchas acciones, de la manera tan extraña en el actuar de las personas, cuando en la época de las flores el "Amor" florece más que nunca hasta por los rincones más recónditos de esta pequeña ciudad. Algunos dicen que sin eso las personas no son felices, que alguien no puede vivir sin otro punto contrapuesto que complemente su irreconocible corazón lleno de todo lo que anhela sentir, no tiene interés, no le parece que las cosas deban ser de esa forma, piensa que podría vivir tranquilamente por los años sin necesidad de que alguien le acompañase ir sus viajes. Mamá decía que si no creía en el amor podría envejer solo y que eso sería como estar en la miseria. Si alguien llega al mundo solo por qué no puede irse de la misma manera, por qué las cosas deben ser de una única forma en lugar de fueran como uno decida hacer su vida, a su modo. Por qué en el fondo tenía presente que en algún momento desearía tener a alguien que le demostrara que valía la pena compartir sus sentimientos, que le apoyara y le ayudara a decidir en situaciones malas, que le ayudara a encontrarse cuando no se reconozca ni a él mismo.

Terminé de leer la carta en voz alta, situada en un antiguo libro que le hacía comprenderse a su mismo cuando creía que lo que sentía i pensaba no tenía sentido alguno.

— ¿Entonces, no quiere amar ni ser amado por miedo a depender de ese otro ser? — Jungkook volteó recostándose de lado para mirarme, pegó su mejilla a mi pecho y me abrazó, en el invierno solíamos pasar más tiempo juntos que en tiempos de calor. No lo miré, suspiré por qué talvez si él hubiera sabiado que esas parecían ser mis propias palabras no le habría agradado escuchar la lectura.

— Talvez no quiere ser lastimado. — Respondí. Una parte de mi tenía la intención de darle a entender mis pensamientos, pero sin ser insistente para nada ni con ganas de remarcar el tema. Lo que me daba miedo era no tener claro siquiera que era lo que quería para mí.

— ¿Pero como es que el amor no duele? entonces... eso no es amor. — No me permití analizar las últimas palabras, ese debate era cosa de todos los días —Si no lástima no puede valer la pena, Jimin. — Probablemente él ya se había dado cuenta de que quien tenía cosas por decir era yo, quien siempre me negaba a hablar sobre el amor, a opinar en voz alta, quien siempre leía, pero pocas veces compartía lo propio, quien nunca se iba enamorado, quien vivía escondido sin permitirse querer a nadie. Talvez nunca se había dicho, no lo había admitido pero yo si quería a Jungkook, como no quererlo cuando me abrazaba creyendo que eso iba a curarme las penas, yo no creía que fuese posible, pero en cierto punto de mis noches de tristeza, desolación y angustia lograban calmarme y sin decir nada solía aferrarme a sus suéteres oscuros y a su olor a tela de lana y esa fragancia que nunca identifiqué, me tranquilizaba. Muchas veces quise decirle que si funcionaba, que estaba mejor, darle las gracias, pero creo que mi cobardía podría ser la causante de muchos de mis silencios, además si se lo decía me vería vulnerable y  cuando lo pensaba sentía ganas de llorar, talvez el frió influía en eso.

Bajé la mirada a sus ojos oscuros, ya no me ponían nervioso, aún siendo cerrado conseguí que en mi vida entrara una persona como él. La oscuridad de la noche nos cubría junto a una manta gruesa que mi madre había tejido para mí dos inviernos atrás.

— ¿Que tienes? — Además de que me entendía muy bien a pesar de mi falta de palabras y mi dificultad para expresarme con naturalidad. Me acarició el cabello, miré hacia el techo pero eso no impidió que continuara, no me molestaba, al contrario y como tanto me conocía solo se encargaba de hacerme sentir que jamás podría sacarlo de mi vida aunque me esforzara en lograrlo.

[milibrogatitalectora]

El chico del ascensor - 37 (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/692117220-el-chico-del-ascensor-37?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=gatitalectora00 Mismo edificio. Solo un piso arriba. ¿Cómo es que nunca se habían encontrado? Ella prefería las escaleras y él el ascensor. ●No se permiten copias y/o adaptaciones● ○ #543 Historia Corta 28/01/19 #504 Historia Corta 30/01/19 #500 Historia Corta 04/02/19 #248 Historia Corta 20/02/19 #204 Historia Corta 05/04/19 #172 Historia Corta 10/04/19 #103 Historia Corta 11/04/19 #71 Historia Corta 13/04/19 #3 Historia Corta 28/05/19💜 #5 Historia Corta 04/06/19 #2 Historia Corta 21/06/19💜 💜#1 Historia Corta 26/06/19 - 06/07/19💜 💜#1 Historia Corta 16/01/20💜 💜#1 Historia Corta 22/04/20💜

[palabras-en-la-ventana]

Diosito ya sueltame el brazo por favor

Estoy harta de ver a la gente feliz,

ya no quiero ser espectadora

Ya pagué mis penitencias porfa

[irreflexion]

Historias Irreflexivas - Comprobar que está bien sellado (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1399018864-historias-irreflexivas-comprobar-que-est%C3%A1-bien?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=sergiorozalen&wp_originator=KWIeiWtlGcaq3vV%2BfK9Lj5cDKv7zfjTVGrEbp%2F8cAd%2B3GLqd68XohPEIlaTMZCK%2FDWveIq3XwnDLe9NweWnGKQOXSUn%2FqyJV70NJJejPHIpXDP1KisAdbvaXfCTDQn%2BR Colección de relatos sobre situaciones insólitas, inesperadas o confusas.

[mirisroro]

Old, new friend ✨ VMin ✨ Próximamente en Patreon Mientras una ola de asesinatos y secuestros azotaba Corea del Sur, Park Jimin y su mejor amigo, Kim Taehyung salieron de fiesta una noche. De los dos, solamente uno regresó a casa, Taehyung desapareció y, meses más tarde, su familia también se mudó. Jimin nunca se imaginó que, 15 años después, mientras visitaba la tumba vacía de su mejor amigo, él también desaparecería. #fanfic #vmin #historiacorta #patreon #mirisroro https://www.instagram.com/p/CpoNfaNDNek/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[junosolis17]

I just published " 8 " of my story " Padres por encargo ". https://www.wattpad.com/1484622369?utm_source=android&utm_medium=com.tumblr&utm_content=share_published&wp_page=create_on_publish&wp_uname=JunoSolis

[historiasvidaycafe]

Mi luz en los tiempos oscuros

¡Nueva entrada en el blog! Prepárate para conmoverte con esta historia corta de amor que te hará llorar y reflexionar. ¡No te la pierdas! #amor #historiacorta #blog #tristeza

Photo by Dids on Pexels.com Cada noche me siento en la orilla de mi cama a recordar cómo te paseabas desnuda por mi habitación, a recordar los besos, las caricias y todas esas noches en las que hacíamos el amor. Tus ojos me miraban con tanta intensidad que podía sentir tu alma conectada con la mía. Pero ahora, esa luz se ha apagado para siempre. Ya no puedo tocarte ni oír tu risa llenando mi…

[cosmefuianito666]

【 “Both in heaven and in hell”】 (HenchDevil)

The darkness of his unconscious was invaded by sparks of pain.

When he opened his eyes, it didn't take long for them to become watery due to the unbearable light and heat.

He rubbed his eyelids until the tears stopped drawing kaleidoscopes.

It was then that he noticed that he was no longer wearing his bracelets, and not only that, his naturally rosy complexion had been seared a shadowy purple.

Desperately, sight and touch searched his entire body for his old self. Recognition boarded him. His body was no longer what he used to be. This was part of the divine punishment.

He had been corrupted.

The fear of the situation made him surround himself with his arms and wings, but when the latter flexed, excruciating pain invaded them. From the periphery of him, a vestige of his former pink self caught his eye.

They were feathers falling.

Henchman looked at the ground around him.

All those were the feathers of him...

How did he look now without them?...

Henchman forced himself to push that train of thought away and stop looking at the feathers, scrambling to his feet.

If he continued to regret himself he would lose his way, his reason.

Perhaps his mind was doomed to lose itself in the gravity of the situation, however, his body would not rest until he found that only reason he had left.

The one that had brought him here in the first place.

Not far from him, other feathers lay lifeless on the ground. Celestial, like the brightest sky...

Henchman followed the trail through the caverns and tunnels until a sound stopped him.

It was a cry.

Henchman ran towards him.

And he saw it.

A figure dark as midnight, with claws and horns of gold, his tail also ending in an arrowhead. He was kneeling on the ground.

He was the owner of those regrets.

The creature trembled violently as he became aware of his presence. An expression of sheer terror plastered his face.

─── Boss?... ─── Henchman asked hopeful and incredulous.

The creature's rubies seemed to glow in recognition.

─── Henchman?... ─── Then the soft voice of the angel he had known since it all began answered him.

─── Yes... Yes, it's me, boss! You don't know how worried he was! ──── Henchman ran and captured the taller one in a hug as gentle as it was firm. He felt that if he didn't hold it right there it might disappear like an illusion.

He had already lost it once...

He would not lose it again.

Lucifer didn't take long to cling to him.

So much pain had torn him to pieces from the inside out.

His nightmare had come true.

His father had abandoned him for not being who he wanted him to be. For not meeting his expectations and being brave enough to rip off what made him different from the other angels.

And yet, even if this was the worst moment imaginable; the worst in which it could exist..., Henchman was here...

Because like?...

─── What... what are you doing here?...─── murmured the angel, afflicted, shocked. Henchman was perfect, one of God's many truly perfect creations unlike him.

Why? Why would he banish him too? Did the mere fact of having been his servant make her an accessory to his putrefaction? Or was there more cruelty in his father's heart than he had barely witnessed?

As if the little Henchman had read his thoughts, he answered.

─── I came for you. ──── Lucifer did not believe that in so few words in an instant, such sincere and disinterested affection would fit inside. So strong, that he soaked him to the bone. Thus freeing him from his stormy trance.

─── Why did you do it?! ───Desperation ran freely in the form of tears down his cheeks.

─── Because I care about you, Lucy. ───

Henchman tried to calm the pain with soft caresses on his back.

But the angel hissed.

Even the slightest touch burned him like hot iron.

It was then that Henchman noticed Lucifer's wings... or rather, the absence of them.

Henchman's face contracted, his heart felt pierced by daggers.

─── T-t-take it easy. I-It's okay! I-I'll take care... ─── he promised him in a broken sweet whisper.

Henchman didn't know how to fix any of this.

However, the way the angel clung to him as his only lifeline in the infinity of this sea, gave him enough strength to try.

I would...for him.

A short time later, the imps found them. One of them, with greenish skin and a hiss on his tongue, welcomed them, leading them to a room where Henchman could treat the angel's wounds.

When Lucifer's wings were bound, a hint of tranquility was allowed to breathe in the air. Blood continually stained the white, but at least, covered now, they had a chance to heal.

They had to...

─── You didn't answer me. ───Lucifer spoke.

───Why are you here? Was it father's decision or... your decision?... ─── he asked again. Nervous fingers playing.

─── Boss... That doesn't matter. ─── replied the now purple demon solemnly.

─── What matters is... that we are together. ─── And, despite the gloomy situation, Henchman gave him one of his most beautiful and brilliant smiles.

It was thus that he knew that Henchman would never say a word to him about what happened after his fall and before their reunion.

And, one day today, Henchman appears the secret.

He never knew if it was his own rebellion that earned her banishment from him or... his unmatched loyalty.

The Devil admitted that there were nights when, sheltered from loneliness, he still found himself thinking about it.

Thinking about how time had passed.

How his life changed...

A soft knock on the door.

─── Boss~!

And how some things just... stayed the same.

Every smile, compliment, touch, encouragement, comfort... Everything Henchman ever gave him shot through him like a shooting star through the cold emptiness of space, lighting up the darkness around him...

───Thank you, Henchman... ─── he muttered weakly, closing the book he had been pretending to read.

─── Duh. Why, Boss? ─── the purple demon questioned smiling, thinking that this was one of the Devil's tricks.

Until he felt arms encircle him with gentle firmness; and warm tears falling on his head.

─── For everything...

[barbaracgsblog]

Historias Cortas de Terror Y Cuentos (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/story/327072345-historias-cortas-de-terror-y-cuentos?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_myworks&wp_uname=BrbaraCupeiroGamez&wp_originator=VcTieXqSJr74ovwbRgJqXpprEia2QkyDYC%2F0d%2BfPM3S9Uo1dYmxN%2B67Q92z2osxCq%2FXGtToG9eSwwOW%2BDY7UxqOWzPnFZ4v2xlu1eYGdd6Rxeg79%2FPIiHPH101uHc8Ii Aquí publicaré historias de miedo creadas por mi misma, y si os gustan dejar un like y un comentario. Todo relacionado con la realidad es mentira, es ficción. No me hago cargo de la tardanza de las actualizaciones, lo haré cuando pueda. Tampoco me hago cargo y o responsable, de los daños psicológicos, o miedo, que la persona pueda sufrir después de leer la historia corta o cuento.

[frasesdecanciones06]

El príncipe que no tuvo su final feliz © ✔️ (M #0) - Quince (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/138912452-el-pr%C3%ADncipe-que-no-tuvo-su-final-feliz-%C2%A9-%E2%9C%94%EF%B8%8F-m-0?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=177ana12&wp_originator=PfhrPAwTmR%2FA7jyr33UGAPF0VlOu%2BcjoxewrCqp3VaUq5xeFQ4%2BXHbzCVAeniD2zxRsDZFabx7eB%2BxfI6swo7lELcaZ9%2F%2F369ghKbfc8SMRq8gaktslXInzQ4pb%2FK%2BPi Los cuentos de hadas siempre tienen un final feliz. El príncipe encuentra a su princesa y la lleva en su corcel blanco a ver el amanecer por el resto de sus vidas. Pero ¿cuánto dura una vida? ¿Cien años o un día? No tuvo que luchar con dragones ni escalar la torre más alta, él encontró a su princesa en esa cama de hospital. No tenía cabello para arrojarlo por la ventana, solo una enorme sonrisa que le hacía soñar con su final feliz; pero su princesa no duró para vivir con él su «para siempre». ACLARACIÓN: Esta obra es un relato corto compuesto de frases y aforismos. No es una historia narrada por un niño. Todos los derechos reservados©

[palabras-en-la-ventana]

[irreflexion]

Historias Irreflexivas - Frente de Liberación de las Macetas (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1399017248-historias-irreflexivas-frente-de-liberaci%C3%B3n-de-las?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=sergiorozalen&wp_originator=axAYZnNukZ8PvzRoMfnajt376dRmPxslzoYf8%2FMJitIdqbU1nDtm978NEsPBE6b9AiCGydRgbKuQw8oU0HTLyXDSId%2F13%2BAm6YnSHkGgC7ToRcExHyk6Gpc3KF7ZZUOW Colección de relatos sobre situaciones insólitas, inesperadas o confusas.

[marina-rcastro]

La Luna Perdida - 🌙 Capítulo 5 (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1093108931-la-luna-perdida-%F0%9F%8C%99-cap%C3%ADtulo-5?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=Marina_RodCas&wp_originator=PGIBQCrMKVb1ht5VfK7F64%2FviEMU4KuNMIk8h7%2FVwW8fRIsFJ%2BeOQvLwbOzkCLPk%2FkQPxU2SK8Wi4IJ4JXqxt2gmdDMPpzOsd3v%2BdXP8usp5oXO7l8MFGW1RYXNGV8Go «A lo lejos las sombras los cuidan. Y es cuando el Caballero mira, que todo sucede». • Laylah es una joven prodigio del violín que es aceptada en la escuela de música de la ciudad. Aquí conoce a un pianista y baterista; dos amigos bastante apuestos que la ayudaran a atravesar un drama familiar. • Pero... ¿Y que pasa con el collar?

[azzrael99]

Después de mucho tiempo, entre @manodemithril y @lazary me inspiraron de nuevo para continuar 😁😁 mil gracias a los dos!! Y este domingo como había que elegir entre dos relatos me he inpirado en los dos, a la vez Jeje🤪 Allá vamos!🖋👑 💽💽💽💽💽💽💽💽💽💽💽💽💽 El androide volvió en sí ¿Qué hacía encima de la cocina?... La cocina, se volvía borrosa... Abrió los ojos, vió a un asno, un gallo y un perro amenazandole. A su lado un león. ¡Que empiece la batalla! - gritó El asno PWHK-27 intentó desconectar la mente, sin éxito, ¿Acaso estaba defectuosa? No te daré lo que quieres...borrico parlante, o… lo que seas… Lanzó su primera estocada. El león se cruzó en el feroz ataque de Wendy-PWHK-27, hiriendolo de muerte. Un brillo salió de la herida, lo recubrió completamente y menguó hasta adoptar la figura de un gato. Se puso en pié y se sentó. Hola PWHK-27... Instalando "GatodeChesire"  Instalado. Hackeo "Chesire" completado. Y con esto hasta el siguiente domingo,👑 🖋con más retos de #mireinoporunapluma Espero que os gusteeee!!! 👇📖 os leo Por cierto el gato me lo he basado en mi gata 😹 #relato #ilustracion #gato #aliciaenelpaisdelasmaravillas #leeresvida #retoliterario #leeressexy #reto #dibujodigital #digiralart #cyberpunk #cyber #programa #art #arte #historiacorta https://www.instagram.com/p/CdBb4_LjUkT/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=