Hypocrisy Novels & Stories

"To clean up their image, they even exploit their own mother. That depressed look Sophia always has is probably an act for the old man too." My fingernails dug hard into my palm, blood dripping down my fist onto my expensive evening gown. But I heard something even more heartbreaking. Dante's voice was very low but filled with cold disgust. "Moretti women are synonymous with hypocrisy, cruelty, and selfishness to the bone. They have no hearts, only a thirst for power and money. Do you think Sophia really loves me? She's just using me to secure her position." I couldn't listen anymore. I stood up abruptly, pushed through the crowd, and stood in front of them.

“Of course not.” “Then why do they think otherwise? There must be some truth to it. I won’t stand for it, I tell you.” He stamped his foot again. Phil turned to me and hooked a thumb towards Dorma, whose face was reddening. “You’d never guess he was the one who convinced everyone to side with the weretics during the last uprising. And we all know how well that went. It’s the hypocrisy I can’t stand.” Personally, I saw the hypocrisy coming in a poor third to the killing and eating of people, but we each have our own standards.

“Control is an illusion, Olivia. No one has true control. Especially not when they are at the mercy of situations.” She scoffed, refusing to let him pull her. “That’s just an excuse to justify the way you treat people,” “You manipulate, dominate and force others into submission. But that doesn’t make you strong, it only makes you a tyrant.” His expression changed to something dangerous, but instead of reacting in anger, he took a step closer. “You are very bold to speak to me like that,” he said, his voice was soft yet loaded with threat. “Do you think I won’t remind you of your place?”

I finally snapped, the words sharper than I intended. His eyebrows shot up in mock surprise before that smug smile returned. "Nothing. I actually just care about you. I want to know that you're doing okay," he said, his forehead creasing with what anyone else might mistake for genuine concern. But I could feel the aura, like there was something else. A sick, hot feeling churned in my stomach. This was the same guy who'd told me I was ‘boring before breaking up with me by text,' and now he was feigning concern while my humiliation trended online. The hypocrisy was literally nauseating.

He thought for a moment before continuing. "Their conceit overwhelms me. They think and act like they are the most perfect, dignified, flawless persons in the world. I can't stand such hypocrisy any longer." "One could hardly blame them for that. Your family has an impeccable reputation for hundred of years. Thus far they has never been touched by any scandal or indignity. No wonder they despise me. I was born from misdeed, I live in disgrace, and now I've been soaking in scandal." He squeezed her hand gently in his hold.

He lowered his head as he mumbled “Son, that wasn’t my intention. You misunderstood.” “Che!” Chris sneered as he looked at Grandpa Holston, his eyes devoid of any emotion other than disdain. The one thing he disdained the most was the hypocrisy of righteousness. He was not a fool to insist on everyone being righteous, but being true to oneself, whether it is righteous, sinful or somewhere between… it doesn’t matter… but whatever it, having the courage to face to it truthfully was what he appreciated most.

"Falling apart on my fingers. You love this, don't you? Love being stretched. Owned. Ruined." "Yes," I gasp. "Yes, yes, yes—" He pulls out. “You’ve always been a slut, haven’t you?” I nod as he pinches on my aching ring. Pain and pleasure in equal euphoric measure. “How dare you accuse me of hypocrisy, hmm?” The anger in his voice is magnetic. “I didn’t finger you at eighteen when you didnt want it. You thought I didn’t know you stood by door while I—” “Shut up!”

He let the silence hang for a beat, gathering the scattered fragments of his own shattered and rebuilt faith. “Reverend Holloway,” Davidson said, his voice low but clear, carrying to the far corners of the stunned cathedral. “You speak of abominations. My former wife would likely agree with you. She would tell you about the abomination of a husband who could not love her as she deserved. She would tell you about the abomination of broken vows.” He paused, his gaze sweeping over the crowd, meeting the eyes of his detractors. “She would be right. The abomination was the lie I was forced to live. The sin was the hypocrisy I practiced in this very church, kneeling

"So you're saying... what? Be a hypocrite when it's convenient?" My eyes squeezed shut. No. I wasn't doing this. Somehow, the girl had actually listened to the best lessons I had to teach, and even retained those values in spite of the meddling of goddamn Abbie Stern. It was easy to see down the road this question laid out before me. It was one where I clarified that publicly I approved of women like Tabitha, but privately I enjoyed the company of sluts like Abbie and Taylor. That Iapproved of that sort of behavior; that Idisapproved of little prisses who gave one unimpressive blowjob and then threw in the towel. The button was visible on her forehead, right in the same place Abbie had her f

“That’s rich.” I glance at the woman standing beside him before looking back at him. “You get to crawl into another woman’s bed, and I’m supposed to stand here and take it, but I can’t even ‘hypothetically’ do the same?” I yank my arm from his grip. “Tell me, Hunter... does hypocrisy come naturally to you, or did you have to work really hard at it?”