I am a god So hurry up with my damn massage In a French-ass restaurant Hurry up with my damn croissants
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@feralsephy
I am a god So hurry up with my damn massage In a French-ass restaurant Hurry up with my damn croissants
Chloe Moretz on set of ‘The 5th Wave’ [October 18th, 2014]
What the fuck are you starin' at? This isn't fuckin' Shakespeare in the Park. Screw off!
Do you even know what kissing is? Or do you think brushing my neck with your lips is a scare tactic? If so — I’m not scared, some may even be aroused by your technique.
Then play with him all you want, he had no luck with Laurie.
[ If looks could kill, the one she gave him probably would. Never had she looked at him with more loathing in her expression. ]
Pity. I don't like to share my toys.
When are you going to stop trying to make out with me? {Thomas barely flinched a muscle knowing there was one of two way’s Sephy usually reacted to him. }
Go ahead and kill him — you’d be doing my dirty work for me.
[ Her eyes narrowed to a pair of dark slits in her face, pupils staring into his, her lips pursed in malice. ] Ha! In your dreams, Sugar Daddy.
Oh, but that's no fun! You of all people know I like to play with my food.
That doesn’t sound very strategically so I call bullshit.
You can kill four people right? Don’t stress.
You want me to tear your throat out? [ Her hands press against his shoulders, shoving him towards the wall and she pushes herself onto her toes, lips grazing his neck. ] Try me, punk.
Ha! I can kill four people. Sure. Maybe all in one sitting, if I had to. But I don't like it when dogs start to act like lions. The dogs need to learn their place. The dog in question, of course, being the good-as-dead Mr Killburn.
Oh wait — I get it now. For a moment I thought someone by the name of Four had been killed, everybody loves numeracy around here.
You’re talking about how I’m four people away from taking your spot as number 4.
Or how I'm four seconds away from ripping your stomach out through your ass.
And what am I gloating about everyone’s most hated villain?
[ Persephone rolls her eyes. ] As if you don't know.
Well what have we here! If it isn't everyone's favourite hero, Mr Harrison. Come to gloat?
——Pardon?
Oh I know, all right. Those deep dark secrets that nobody knows about? I know. I always know. Nothing escapes me, Sweets. Word travels fast among the shit heap of the human race.
I’m nothing like you, Sephy. Don’t make me laugh.
But at our very core we're all the same, aren't we? Sinners, the lot of us. I just happen to enjoy sinning more than I should. And apparently you do, too. Oh, sorry? Is the whole murder-thing a soft spot? Poor baby. Shall I hush?
Jesus, all the psychos around here are starting to get repetitive. Mix it up.
I'm not a psychopath, Malia, I'm just not afraid to get what I want. I'm a go-getter! That's the one. Y'know, you and I? We aren't that different.
Looks like your reign of terror is over. At least for now.
Oh, Sweetheart! If you think a measly little thing like rankings changes anything then you're even more stupid than I thought. My reign has no end. [ Pouts sarcastically. ] Sorry to disappoint.
Draven stared down at Sephy who attempted to pin him to a wall. He gave a laugh and shook his head. “It’s not stealing when you practically hand it over. Last time I checked, you’ve been MIA,” the boy stated. Rolling his eyes, he shoved Sephy off of him, turning around and pressing her back to the wall, his arm against his throat. He stared into her eyes and have a smirk, “Learn what? I know you. I don’t need to learn anything.”
[ Rather than push her former ally away Persephone only pulled him closer, her hands gripping the collar of his shirt, pulling his frame towards hers; she always had been unpredictable. It was what made her dangerous. ] "Know me?" [ The dauntless-born let out a barking laugh, her eyes crinkling with glee. ] "Don't make me laugh! You don't know me! No one knows me. You think you do-- because we were 'friends.' But you're wrong. I made you, Draven. Before you met me no-one knew your name. You were just a sad little boy who liked to fry ants under the magnifying glass. And now look at you, Big Boy! Frankenstein's Monster strikes back! Forgive me for not being terrified, Sweet Cheeks. [ A smirk danced across her lips as she rubbed her thumbs in circles along his collarbone, her grip on his shirt like iron. ]
When the fires, when the fires have surrounded you and the whole wide world coming after you I've got blood, I've got blood on my name when the fires, when the fires are consuming you and your sacred stars wont be guiding you I've got blood, I've got blood blood on my name
[ Sephy's eyes catch sight of the boy she seeks -- he who thinks he cans steal her glory! -- and all she can see is red. Before she can restrain herself her hand is at his throat, slamming him against the wall, her eyes glaring up into his full of malicious intent. ] So y'think you can steal my crown, eh, Sweetheart? [ The smaller one pouts her lips mockingly and trails a finger down his cheek. ] Oh, baby! You've gotta' lot to learn.
Indeed it is. Although, I do have a hard time believing you don’t feel at least some jealousy towards him. He’s in your spot, you want it back, you want to be better than him.
That's not jealousy it's hubris. I don't want to be better than him I want to end him.