#the heart is deceitful

[mindfulnessministry]

[annagracewood]

Sisters, are you really believing God's Word?

Sisters, are you really believing God's Word? Do you take all that the Lord says to you seriously and believe every word of it?

Sisters, are you really believing God’s Word? Do you take all that the Lord says to you seriously and believe every word of it? Do you do so even when it challenges your convictions? We ought to. Galatians 6: 7-8, Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap. For he that soweth to his flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption; but he that soweth to the…

[anteonnix]

Showing Affection 💙💛

TON of love

Get it? Cause it's super heavy- alright I'm outta here

[screaming--agony]

Dear Diary,

I don’t care anymore. Nothing changes.

[sunfortune]

almost done with Marquess Wins a Wife LMAO sunny this book doesn't shy away from putting the obnoxious male lead through the wringer and making him grovel like yessss hit him again!! the narration feels realistic & natural but while we're in Luke's pov you can practically hear the writer going 'reader do you see this shit? dw we're gonna make him pay for it later' i loved it. and these kids are a riot, Luke taking L after L from 10-year-olds

it’s my favvvv part of aydra richard’s books. like “third act breakup/serious fight” happens in litchrally like EVERY romance novel which is Fine, that’s the genre, but then they almost never have the man do enough groveling or suffering to make up for it! and it weakens the romance for me. i love how she puts those men through the wringer bc it’s DESERVED. literally more books would benefit from including it. plus literally the best thing any book can do is let a woman be righteously angry . and she excels at that

[fallenandrogyne]

Barbie (2023)

[justjanusthings]

[soliloquent-stark]

💌 ctrl-alt-deceit by soliloquent

17,1k words // pairing: tony stark & steve rogers

—⎊—

"Tony,

I've completed the background check on Steven Rogers, and there's something big you need to know. Like, massive security-threat level big.

I'm sorry, sugar. He's bad news."

or: A corporate espionage story told solely through excerpts from CEO Tony Stark's inbox. Featuring romantic pining, delightful office lunches, sarcastic super-geniuses, intense investigations, revolutionary nanotechnology research, unhinged arch-nemeses, haunting ghosts from the past, and an endearing emoji overload by a witty Peter Parker.

[wanderingskychild]

You know there are a number of different places this style event could have been hosted at, bit surprising it’s here in Hermit Valley.

(Though know that I look at it, the sun over the horizon does bring a nice touch)

The young skater being among the audience is somewhat to be expected. Blushing prospector is just a realm away so I didn’t question them being here either.

Sleepy traveler being here though was definitely a surprise. Like my guy, who’s watching your boat? 🤨

[dmagedgoods]

The Heart's Deceitful Lesson

Rating: General

Relationships: Raphael/Haarlep; Raphael/Male Durge (my character Cian) Summary: Raphael knew it had merely been a matter of time before the disdainful incubus would grasp a chance to betray their master. The attempt went wrong and now they will pay the price. But has there been more to the deed than visible at first view? A prompt filled for @karneo 💕 (I'm always open for Raphael prompts btw, it just may take me a little time to answer them. 🥰) Tags of importance: Betrayal, Character Death, Hurt No Comfort, Angst, Implied Torture, Injury, Blood, Fiends With Feelings AO3 ~ Betrayal always followed those on the path to glory, increasing exponentially with growing power. It came with inevitable precision to those aiming high and by no means disguised well enough to elicit his surprise, even less from the despicable, renitent creature who had resided in his bed for far too long.

Centuries, centuries of grudging companionship, spiked with their flaming hatred, with his own aversion for the distasteful gift, spiked with the bitter taste of their mockery, with his well-aimed punishments, spiked with unmatched understanding, glimpses into his soul he had granted against his better judgment, a connection that ran deep, even misplaced tenderness, an aimless longing, moments of heavy exhaustion caught and held in their embrace, all of it thrown away in the blink of an eye.

It was not the treachery that bore the true offense – he should never have ceased expecting it –, it was the execution of the attempt that bordered on an insult, an insult of his intellect and abilities and even of their hell-forged bond itself.

Hot blood drenched the fabric of his doublet. He had not bothered to heal the wound gaping near his shoulder, too many inches from his heart. What a poetic target, how deeply ironic the miss. And still, the defiant organ was throbbing and aching for the fragment of an illusion he had indulged in so inattentively, captured in their steady, familiar dance.

‘No venomous cobra's stab e'er stung, Like nectared lies on a false friend's tongue.’ The bloody dagger before him tainted the dark wood of his desk and the deep, lush red mixed with the expensive poison it carried. Unfortunately for the traitor, his favorite client had filled his repertoire with a collection of no less efficacious antidotes only weeks ago.

The harlot had not left the house, he sensed them strong as ever; they did not attempt to run like the cowardly lizard they were and to escape and flee his vengeance, probably knowing with ultimate certainty that he would find them no matter which deep, dark hole they’d crawl into.

The moment of their attack lingered in him as if the dagger had never left his body, relentless and sharp, cutting much more effectively now in the afterglow than in the second of the amateurish attempt on his life: The swift shadow – invisible before –, it had drawn his attention away from his paperwork, the shining blade – darting towards his chest –, it had pierced his flesh with pathetic inaccuracy, his grip – fast enough to close around the fabric of their cape –, it had revealed his own fear-stricken face staring back at him.

They had swiftly retreated into the shadows and out of the room.

How long did he sit here already, unable to move, unable to fully process?

The cape lay useless on the floor, still smelling like their perfume. The cinnamon note, a calming scent to him before, now threatened to make his stomach turn. Enough. His fingers closed around the hilt of the dagger. He needed to act. The anger he experienced felt oddly cold, like burning ice in his veins when he finally made his way to the boudoir.

He would not have been able to tell what he had expected. Haarlep with a weapon in their hand, ready to throw themselves into a desperate, hopeless battle? Haarlep on their knees, begging for his forgiveness with sickening sweetness, seduction on their tongue? Haarlep offering a worthless deal, trying to make him forget that all they got was already his and his alone? What he saw, however, seemed almost surreal to him. The traitor lay there on his bed, relaxed, unimpressed, with a taunting grin on their face. Even after all this time glamoured to mirror his features, it never had lost the last luring, irksome (cherished? – he banned the thought as fast as it came) impact of their own underlying traits. “You seem tense tonight, master.” Haarlep raised, smooth like a snake in disguise. “– Struggling with a disobedient pet?” Their eyes lingered on his wound with unconcealed hunger. What game are they playing? Haarlep left the soft mattress and moved towards him, each movement graceful and strong, not carrying a hint of fear. “Your body yearns for peace, to give in to the pleasure of letting go.” And suddenly he understood, eyes widening: They were distracting him for a second attempt. Wearing the smile still on their lips, they reached out for him – “Allow me to …” – and he raised his hand with firm determination, thrusting the dagger forwards, aiming for the target they had missed. The sharp blade sunk into their chest with gruesome ease. “Enough of your insulting antics. You must have known the price.” Their face showed … confusion? “Raphael …” His name left their trembling lips as a rough rattle. “Why …” Fire flooded his senses. They had the audacity? He wanted to grab their throat, wanted to cut off their last treacherous breaths. In a reflex, he caught their body before it fell to the ground.

There was an ocean of pain in their eyes, so much of it not caused by the iron. Their claws sunk into his clothes and skin as if to hold onto him.

Not even now they show me a flicker of respect and stop their ridiculous farce. His heart throbbed in the agonizing rhythm of their blood leaving their chest and tickling over his hand. “Go now, sweet companion, Fallen from grace.” He spoke the words with somber calmness – betrayed only by the slightest tremor. His hand caressed one of their horns, their silken hair. “Nothing keeps its rhyme or reason When darkness claims your loved face.” Their shaking hand reached out for his cheek, cupping it with unbearable tenderness that sharply contrasted everything that had happened within the last hour. Haarlep grinned a strained grin, bearing sharp canines. It never had looked like his own. He flinched when he felt a touch on his tail. Haarlep’s had entangled with his, squeezing in a last goodbye. “Take care, little brat.” Their features grew stiff. The grip around his tail loosened. A watery drop met their lifeless lips and he needed a moment to realize it had been one of the tears falling from his eyes. Captured in its grip, he could not bring himself to shake off the unacceptable weakness. He was numb when he carried Haarlep back to the bed and placed them there as if they were sleeping. A feeling in him grew louder and louder, like a constant rustling, now tearing on all his senses: Something was wrong. Entirely. What had been a vague impression before became a sinister certainty. He sensed … a presence, like a gaze on him, hidden from view, expecting to stay unnoticed there in the shadows. Ice seemed to flood his innards when he cast a spell. It can’t be true, it mustn’t. But his hope, once more, got shattered. His magic revealed the intruder: Red skin, majestic horns, sharp features – as if they had been ripped out of his aching chest. The younger, slightly adjusted version of his face was looking at him once more; as if Haarlep had never died, as if they weren’t lying cold and lost right next to him on the bed. Even their smell oozed from the vile creature. Shock appeared on those stolen features, but before the intruder managed to escape a second time, he cut off their way to the door, gripped them by their shirt, and lifted them from the ground. “Show yourself!” he demanded; voice sharp with bewildered rage. They didn’t react, only made a muffled sound. With unrestrained force, he threw them against the wall behind them. Stonework crumbled and they gasped in pain when they sunk to the ground. The magical disguise fell from their body and revealed ashen skin, long black hair, and two mismatching eyes looking up at him with heavy fear. “No.” The word left his lips like a breathless gasp. His little mouse, his favorite client, his occasional lover who had steadily made his way into his dealings, into his life. The realization felt like someone had plunged him into frozen water. “I had no choice! Let me explain!” Cian pleaded. “You betrayed me.” The bewilderment even muffled his rage. “After everything. You betrayed me!” “No! That’s not true! The attack …, I, I aimed at your shoulder, made sure you would have the antidote at hand! It was an act, but an act based on an important truth. You needed to finally believe it! The spying incubus was the one who would have betrayed you, rather sooner than later but in a far more dangerous way than the one I have staged! You didn’t want to listen! But I have proof! If only you let me …” “You made me kill them.” The full extent of the deceit, of what the mortal had done, it seemed to resist reaching his mind. “I showed you something you would have seen anyway! Eventually! And then maybe you wouldn’t have gotten the chance to react!” With three forceful steps, he reached the kneeling drow, gripped his hair, and ripped his head backward. He could snap his neck or cut his throat in an instant. But no. No. He would not experience the relief of death. Oh, beg for it, yearn for it, but he would keep it just out of reach for him. “Not so much a mouse than a rat.”

Cian looked up to him, not struggling against his fate. Not yet. But he saw tears shining in his eyes. The first of many to follow.

“Raphael ..., I did it for you.”

Everything in him grew hard. “No venomous cobra's stab e'er stung, Like nectared lies on a false friend's tongue,” he said quietly. With a flick of his fingers, he brought him to a room that would serve as his prison until he’d have worked out some more specific, significant details for him. “Please, let me show you what caused my decision!” “Better by far the deadliest foe Who does not fail to let you know” An expression of resignation overshadowed Cian’s face when he roughly let go of him and turned around without another word. The peculiarities of his new chamber would suppress the sorcerer’s magic. “He is your foe, nor does it smart,” Cian answered, a deep sadness in his voice, “As badly, when he rends your heart.” Raphael didn’t turn around to him again, the chaos in him too strong to withstand it any longer in the presence of the traitor. Instead, he clicked his fingers once more, leaving the room behind.

[undergodslove]

Our deceitful heart leads to dead ends.

[cozykdramakat]

that was sooooo close to being my perfect ending. whole final episode was amazing. beautifully directed. love all my little happy endings

but I’m a virgo and I need to know the logistics of the end??? like does she become queen? do they run off together?? does she go back to being a gidaeryeong??? show pls tell me

[puddii-ng]

oh my goodness im obsessed with these two.. SILLIES

[wisdomfish]

There is a treachery, a deceit in sin, that tends to harden your hearts against the fear of God.

John Owen

[vvanessaives]

–what does your heart look like?

i was tagged by @katsigian @halsin @devilbrakers and @nuclearstorms to take this quiz for some of my ocs, thank you soso much everyone!! mwah

i think many already got tagged so feel free to ignore this or jump into it!! tagging: @reaperkiller @aragorngf @morvaris @malefiicarum @faarkas @risingsh0t @florbelles @indorilnerevarine @denerims @cultistbase and you!!

a bird struggling to get loose

Your heart can never hold still. It pounds against your chest frantically, always turning your sights to one thing after the next. When was the last time you were certain? The last time your life was stable? Maybe this is how you prefer things. On the move constantly, not tied down to one person or place. You chase one goal after the next. Can you ever really feel complete without a place to land? Shouldn’t you build yourself a nest?

a tangled ball of red strings

Who are you without the company of others? You aren’t sure, but you know that you aren’t fond of whoever it is. You are an actor, a pretty face and a pleasant song. Many idolize you, or love you, but you can never be sure of how sincere it is. Your heart is buried under the letters they leave you, sealed with a kiss. It can’t be untangled from the red strings they’ve attached to you. You deserve to find something, someone, true and faithful to hold your heart in place. You don’t have to be everything to everyone.

molten lava and charred flesh

Your heart burned so fiercely that it burnt itself out, leaving horrible scars in its wake; scars inside your chest and on the hands of those who touched you, the hearts of anyone who got close enough to connect to yours. The person you are now is no longer recognizable, burnt up by your own anger and passion and love. The injuries can never be fully erased, but they can be soothed with time and trust and forgiveness.

[accurzed]

the heart is deceitful above all things (2004)