Conflicting Morals Novels & Stories

Just like psychopathy is a spectrum, morality is also a spectrum. Ahn Hana has never been moral. Her father had always taught her to see all sides of the facts. The definition of morality changed with the era. What might be a crime in the 16th century isn’t a crime in the 21st century. Humans always change the meaning of morals according to what is beneficial to them. It’s not that she can’t embrace Hong Dae Yi’s darkness. However, there are some things that shouldn’t be touched. Her parents. Bo Ji Won. Jung Kwang Soo. Her daughter.

I defend further knowing I’m trying to convince myself more than Max. “Stalker much?” Max jokes. “You would stalk the woman you love from afar just to torture yourself with having her just within your reach yet refusing to take what you want. We are men of the underworld, Shane. Morally grey is a code we live by. You’re a hitman. Do you ever hesitate to pull the trigger on your target?” “Of course not.” I answer, almost offended but also knowing Max is making a point. “Then why hesitate to pull the trigger on what you really want?”

The air still smelled faintly of old books and the cedar sachets their mother used to tuck into drawers. Nathan closed the door. Cole turned the lock. Isabel stood between the two beds and let the cardigan fall. This time they undressed each other first. She watched as identical bodies were revealed—same broad shoulders, same lean muscle, same dark trail of hair leading down. When they were both naked the resemblance became almost unbearable. Only the scar and the ring remained as proof that the universe had not simply doubled one man.

"First and foremost, we're both men. Second, your family would not permit it. Third, it would be us against the world." Still, William is being stubborn. "But I only want you by my side." Vincent, "It's not about what we want. What matters here is our morality." "What's wrong with us getting into the next step if we truly lo---" William stopped halfway. Now that he gave it a thought, isn't he being too pushy here? Of course, it takes two to tango. "Say, do you even feel the same way? More than friends? More than sworn brothers?"

He let out a breath in my neck, and my core responded. Shit. Why? Even after all that I’ve heard today? “Doesn’t it make you a bad person if you want something so bad that it’s tagged wrong?” He sucked my neck, “Wanting something that is considered wrong doesn’t automatically make you a bad person… It makes you human,” He sucked again, and I but my lower lip. “Everyone has desires, impulses, or thoughts that might conflict with societal norms, personal morals, or ethical standards…” He pulled away, then looked at me.

"I spent months learning not to be controlling, learning to trust Sophia's strength, learning to be a partner instead of a protector. And the moment real crisis hit—the moment my family was actually threatened—all that growth evaporated. I became Richard's weapon. Became exactly what I'd sworn I'd never become. And the worst part? It worked. The violence saved them. Which means some part of me will always know that being the weapon is effective even when it's morally wrong." "Is it morally wrong?" Dr. Morrison challenged. "You killed people who were actively participating in your family's kidnapping. People who were armed and dangerous. Under extreme duress and immediate threat. The legal sy

I pulled out my phone and opened my banking app. "I'll pay you," I stated. "Handsomely. Enough to make the risk worth it. And once Dorian wakes up and the conspiracy is exposed, everyone will understand why you did it. You'll be a hero, not a criminal." "Money isn't the issue," Dr. Morrison insisted. "Then what is?" I pressed. "Your conscience? Because I'm telling you right now, if Dorian dies because you refused to help, that will weigh on your conscience far more than bending some rules to save an innocent man's life."

When Jin tried to open his mouth to speak, to answer, she simply tightened her grip on him and he gasped, wheezing as he tried to claw and pry her hands off of him, her nails digging on his skin that it hurt, it hurts and he couldn't breathe–like this, is she really going to crush his throat? “My sweet Sanscroft, how can you be so certain of what is wrong and what is right in this world? Who did? Your precious gods?” she taunted, a vicious sneer worming its way on her face, “The concept of morality is subjective at best. It is nothing more but a bunch of principles made to suit the whims of the ones on top; that is the way it has always been. Right and wrong are nothing more but labels of su

This shift in his moral compass wasn't a betrayal of his beliefs but rather a testament to his capacity for adaptation and resilience. He learned to weigh the consequences of his actions, to assess the risks involved in each decision. He learned that morality in this ravaged world wasn't a binary code, a simple equation of right and wrong. It was a complex, ever-shifting landscape, demanding a nuanced approach, a willingness to make difficult choices, often with unforeseen consequences. One particular encounter tested Jay's moral resolve to its limits. They discovered a group of survivors trapped in a collapsing tunnel, their desperate cries echoing

“That’s why power is dangerous to begin with. The moment shit happens, it’s really tempting to use it.” “Would it be wrong?” I asked. “In the end we are nothing but men. It’s not up to us to decide what is wrong and what is right. We can only guess,” he said. “Sometimes we get it right, sometimes we get it wrong. I’m not even sure we’ll ever know. Every time period seems to have a different definition. Different cultures, different places, it’s always different. That’s the thing with morals, we can only clumsily attempt to get it, but it’s only when we truly fail that we realise the fuckup.”