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@poliished-moved
Late Night with Seth Meyers | Christoph Waltz talks with host Seth Meyers backstage on December 18, 2014
NOBODY LIKES YOU OSKAR
OR KEEP HER ALIVE AND HAVE HER TALK TO LO IN ORDER TO KEEP HER FROM WORRYING but she slips up and lo’s like ‘she said they’re gonnA KILL HER OSKAR’ and shit gets fucked up bUT HE’S IN TOO DEEP
YEAH YEAH YEAH THAT'S GOOD. like why you gotta be like that oskar? kidnappin girls, holdin' their mom's hostage. like. hide yo kids, hide yo wives, and hide yo husbands CAUSE OSKAR IS FUCKING EVERYTHING UP FOR EVERYBODY WHAT THE FUCK. then he's gotta try to 'splain a thang and keep lying to her but LO CAN'T TAKE IT AND UGH MY HEART.
spankings. the word is like acid in her mouth, a funny little ringing in her ears that never ceases to have her hanging onto something; it’s just the idea of discipline, of being taken over his knee, it’s quite nerve wracking. too young to understand why this would be pleasurable, Lola toes forward slightly. ’ n’ what if I come, will you still do it? ‘
he considers her words with a tilt of his head. it would be pleasant for him, but he was having difficulty reading the same allure on her face. he liked it better when she was smiling, too. her cheeks got just as rosy, but stayed free of tears.
" no. I wouldn't have any reason to unless you gave me one. you're not going to, are you? "
verse where he DOES take lolita around the world but lies and says that charlotte knows about it but sHE DOESN’T AND SHIT GETS BAD poliished
THAT IS SOMETHING THAT WOULD TOTALLY HAPPEN. OSKAR YOU FUCKING CREEP. he'd probably kill charlotte tbh. or get her killed. or report that she's an unfit mother while he's swept Lo away and keeps her distracted with his luxurious BULLSHIT.
I hate him.
He could call her what he wanted, but she had never been a malicious sort of woman. And yet, when he pulled at the handcuff at his wrist, she wanted to laugh, because she knew a man of his stature, a man of his criminality and his ways… a man against something so thin, fragile and gentle - would know how to break out of something like that. He was so angry that he wasn’t thinking. That was how far they had grown apart. She knew then that he no longer loved her. It tore her up. it was revenge that fuelled her, however, and it was the only thing that stopped her from breaking down right then and there in front of him. She had far too much pride any more to cry in front of the man. She had learned long ago to save the crying from his smatterings and his beatings for after. His eyes were narrowed on her and his wrist was red, and his face was still so. It gave her pleasure - a pleasure she felt rarely these days, so close to her retirement. It was akin to the pleasure she felt when she was alone with a criminal in an interrogation room. It was akin to the pleasure she felt when she slammed a criminal’s head down on the table in front of them and broke their nose, just to have blood and secrets spilling out all at once, a grown man writhing in pain and fear because of a thin, frail woman that they’d thought to attack. And to go home to the one man she thought she could trust to recieve the same treatment? The anger boiled inside her. It showed on her features as he spoke and called her a coward, though he’d never witnessed her in that darkenned room saved for the criminal. She jolted forward with the tazer - the tazer she’d been trained to use, just like the gun in her bag - and pressed it to his neck much harder than one should. When she was finished, it was cast to the ground and she leaned down to grab the limp man by the jaw. She forced him to look up at her because he deserved to look up at the face of the woman that was thrashing him back. ”That pain you felt was for every time you hit me. And I would advise you to be careful with the words you choose next or I may make the decision to even the blows. We will see who is putting on cover-up to hide their spouse’s abuse.”
he expected the blow, harsh, causing his body to seize up in pain and slump pathetically against the radiator. he was too weary to fight after that, it showed in his bated breath, shaking through his chest. he would rather she use her hands. he would just love it for her to scratch manicured nails over his skin, tear at eyes and hair until he was nothing but bloody bone. he wanted to see her take it in her own hands, and rip him apart. leave humanity at the door, darling... there are only animals allowed here.
something sick dripped from his mouth, while dark hues lifted to meet her sweet face. he was laughing at her. even now--- he had much to lose but at the moment, it is the only thing he has to spite her. his free hand shakily comes to wipe at his face, and then gently adjust the metal of the cuff around his wrist.
" put your toys down, darling. it's much more fun to use your fists. "
her gaze is fixed upon his figure, playing the role of a father she’s never met, and it brings a funny little grin to her mouth, retainer poking through a bit; she’s not scared. she should be, had she ever taken threats seriously, but she doesn’t move. but god knows she wants to, toes are curling at his unknown tongue at her ears. ’ what if I don’t? ‘
she's toying with him just as much as he is with her, but he feigns a smile that's anything close to her own. he covers any trace of amusement with mock annoyance, letting out a deep breath while he takes another calm step forwards. she could very well escape him, scurry out the door and hide away in another room, or perhaps a cupboard. she was better at hide-and-seek than he was, surely.
" I don't think you'll like it. unless you're one of those silly girls who enjoy their spankings. "
“ Well, sometimes it is necessary to start things. And yes, I quite often finish what I’ve started. I believe a gentleman should always know when to put things to an end. ”
" you see, that's where I always had the most trouble. does it make me any less of a gentlemen when having such troubles not knowing where things should end? or does it make me a brute? "
ic chatzy. no ooc drama, humans only, etc.
’ that’s a bold accusation to make, buster. ‘ she can play the game just as well as he can. but it wasn’t who was smarter, nor clever, but who could run faster. who could make it to the front door before the other; Lo was already at at a disadvantage. she plays coy. ’ come where, herr oskar? ‘
the tricky thing about herr oskar was what could be believed between the solid mixture of teasing, and intimidation. he could scare her if he wished, keep her under a firm hand and watch her pupils shrink to the ends of pins. squirm, even cry out, but that would only be cruel because it would be undeserving. so he kept some of his coaxing as light and teasing as usual.
he quietly taps his toe once, giving the fatherly impression that he was impatient with her games ( he was seldom ever bothered ) and then pointed to the spot on the ground in front of him. " here, kleines mädchen. "