Last Seen Blogs
vagabondageautourdesoi
LIRE VOIR VOYAGER
morethansomethingaboutstyle
More Than Something To Do
empresssound
PLAY I SOME MUSIC
skinnyhiker
Self-aware Boy
zhalsan
call me None
Text
It was always a game of cat and mouse between them, with Krit being the cat playing with its prey. Yet, even in nature, a mouse would eventually succumb to its fear once a parasite had infiltrated. Perhaps, in that analogy, Krit was not the cat at all but the very infection attempting to burrow under Juri's skin.
"You cannot escape, not when your soul belongs to me," Krit would never relent. He engraved himself into Juri's being. One death didn't stop him... would it ever? He had marked Juri. Juri was his. "But will that Juri of another lifetime learn from his mistakes? Will he learn to stop resisting? Or will I have to teach him to be a good boy, too?"
In Krit's vision, his redemption would come when Juri gave in to him, and maybe today was not that day, but he had tomorrow and the day after that. He laughed as Juri prayed because not even prayer could halt this demon once it began its hunt. He would hunt friends, family, whoever. Krit would treat people like objects, bending them to his will to obtain what he truly desired, but even they were easily disposable.
And what did Juri do other than set the demon free? Krit picked himself off the ground when released from the vines. "These violent delights have violent ends," he whispered close to Juri's ear and then walked off, but it would not be the end. No. He'd return when Juri was ready to accept him.
Juri took out his prayer beads and rolled the beads between his finger. The anger was going to boil over. That's what Krit wanted. "You will heal in time." Juri said keeping a neutral tone.
"I don't. I will learn so you can find peace." Juri said sincerely. "If I die because my heart stops beating under your influence I'll simply reincarnate as someone else. I won't be the Juri of this lifetime. But a Juri of another lifetime." There was a sadness thinking about all he could lose. Jem, Adisorn, Luna, Artemis, Carrissa, Asher, Dan, their faces going through his mind. To die again and lose them afterall his work was hard. But that's what he believed. "We all belong to the cycle." Juri said.
There was an unreadable look on his face. He wanted to get the demon out. There was a tear that streamed down his face. The demon had his mind didn't he. It was why he couldn't even consider Krit. Their relationship that couldn't exist, his energy was too demonic. A man that won't redeem himself. Juri was a free spirit and Krit didn't understand that.
A master of his own destiny, Juri went down on his knees and began to recite a shirt prayer. A prayer for Krit to find a kindred spirit to love. And Juri to find someone to love. And together peace and love will spread. Juri stood back up his eyes steely in the moonlight. He snapped his fingers and let the vines release Krit.
"You should leave." He warned. "Or I will have to resort to more violent methods."
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
krit - task 003 - photos
@ofwindydays @traegics
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
What made the pharmacy the perfect hunting ground were the very people who entered through that door. The weak. Body and soul. Their Gods had left them in pain, helpless. Allowed for the demons to feast upon them. In that scenario, Krit was their salvation, and right now? He was Kevin's salvation.
"Easy, tiger." His hands rested on Kevin's waist to steady him. "As much as we'd both love to see that guy in cuffs," Krit's imagination likely differed from Kevin's in that endeavor. "You should focus on getting better before you get back to tackling the bad guys." The irony was, Krit being one of those very bad guys, this was a viper's pit, and that viper had Kevin in his grasp.
"Don't worry, I've got you." A deadly promise. He could let go, let Kevin sink to the ground in desperation, but this, this was more fun, and he asked nicely, so while keeping his grasp on Kevin, he maneuvered in a way, his body pressing against the others as he reached for the chair.
Kevin was mostly unaware of his own attractiveness to Krit. As far as he can tell sure boys and girls are nice, but he has to mend the relationship with his legs. And get TJ's respect.
"I can arrest the fucker that did it." He said. His heart skipped a beat before clearing his throat. "You aren't at it Krit I just want to bri-" Kevin winced in pain from standing. "Bring that guy his just desserts." He accidentally leaned closer as his legs weakened, his hands on Krit's shoulders. "Do me a favor and bring my chair back." He said. "Please."
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Krit kept up a charade at the pharmacy, a side hustle of sorts, preying on the unsuspecting. Still, one did take him by surprise... Kevin. He was adorable. Oh, how Krit could just eat him up.
"That is..." When Kevin grabbed his wrist, wearing that inquisitive look, he did wonder what to call it. Lover's quarrel? "Nothing I can't handle." Playing it off inconspicuously to the cop, intending to allow Kevin to play detective for a short while. "Why? Am I raising your suspicions, officer?"
Closed for @krit-ikal
Of course he had to stop for his medication. But Kevin truthfully wanted to get away from Tae-jin, that hard ass bastard. As he wheeled inside he noticed the pharmacist. There was a smirk when he noticed the marks. Usually he tended to meek but he couldn;t help but wanted to a bit brave. And Krit just alluded temptation. Kevin rolled up to the counter and stood up near Krit, gently grab the wrist. "What shit have you been up to?" He asked unaware of Juri and the vine attack.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Oh, sweetheart, do you think I'm afraid of Gods?" he questioned. He was a destroyer of Gods. He harbored a deep-seated hatred for them, despising their righteousness and divine intervention. They were a nuisance he sought to eradicate from the earth.
"Evil lies in all our hearts. We are, by design, sinners. You are prone to corruption." What was so different but sides on a battlefield? "A little extra magic doesn't make you bigger or better; it just makes you a more obvious target. In a world like ours, being a nobody makes it easier to slip in unnoticed. You, with all that power? You reek of desperation. Not a badder bitch."
He couldn't beat her. He couldn't join her. He could and would stand his ground. "Not just a finger, but all ten digits... and more," he remarked, winking. "Put me in one grave. I'll jump out of the next. I'm always coming back for him. He doesn't call me a Hydra for nothing. He knows if he cuts off one of my heads, a thousand more will grow. I am so deeply engraved into him; he can't shake me. I am the demon latched to his soul."
Brows furrow slight, a sharp laugh falling from her lips as she offers the male a shake of her head. "Honey, you and I, we are nowhere near the same," Everleigh retorts, words sweet as honey as they dripped off her tongue. She could sense the aura that surrounded him, the darkness that ran through his veins and yet they were not the same. She used her darkness for good rather than evil not that anybody else could see it that way.
"I highly doubt it," the witch states, her gaze returning to Juri's retreating figure before returning her attention to the witch before her. "Unfortunately for you, the only people privy to any information from me are people that I care about and you are not someone that I care about. To be quite frank, you are nobody to me."
Brows rise this time, scoff easing from her lips as she once more shakes her head at the male before her. "A God," Everleigh questions. "Baby, I am the God. Ask anybody in town since that's what they all seem to think. And Juri needs no protection from me because he is protected by me so if you plan on laying even a finger on him, I would definitely think again because I will not hesitate to put you in a grave right next to my parents."
Another scoff rises, cerulean hues rolling in annoyance as she shifts, arms crossing over her chest. "I'm no demon," she assures him. "She-devil, maybe to some but there is no demon latched on to me."
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
He couldn't help but laugh when she mentioned seeing him following Juri all those years ago. "Ah - you caught me," he admitted, guilty, yet amused by the irony that she had no idea of the lengths he would go to do that.
The minimal respect he showed her had been deceiving her all these years. "Fine. Since we're not going home, let's bring Bangkok to New Orleans, pîi," he said, using the wai in unison. "Happy?" he asked, a hint of cheekiness in his tone.
Her nod of agreement set the plan in motion. Now, all Krit had to worry about was Juri behaving and Jem doing her part of the arrangements.
𓂃𓊝𓄹𓄺
"Oh, please. This is exclusive only to my cute and lovely fans. Don't even joke about it, you." Rolling her eyes with an amused smile, Jem tilted her head at the next comment before letting out an incredulous scoff. "Really? Is that how it was? From what I recalled, who was the very same person that followed Juri around all the time, like a little lost puppy?" Replying jestingly, she clapped his arm and sighed. "As good as it can be. After all, this is not really home, and New Orleans can never be Bangkok." Trailing off, she let out another sigh before her face turned serious. "And just because we're not back home doesn't mean you should stop calling me pîi (elder brother or elder sister). You and Juri should still respect me and not let these American water change your brain."
Pondering at the suggestion, Jem thought about Juri recently, how her little brother was being so down after the whole event. Just thinking about it was tugging at her chest and even if she doesn’t say it out loud, it breaks her heart to see him like that. And perhaps a little hang out might be good for him. Hesitated only briefly, she finally gave a curt nod in agreement. "I can try to do something."
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
He let out a chuckle as the vines tightened around him. "An interesting way to say you'll have me," he said, feeling the burning sensation on his skin. Those vines would surely leave a mark, one that he would cherish. "But you've marked me. Doesn't that make me yours? Just as you are mine."
A beating heart there may be, but there was nothing human about it. "Honey, you don't know a damn thing," he pouted, once again disappointed. "I'd worry more about your heart," he suggested, his voice continuing to be laced with venom. "I don't break them like your boyfriend broke yours. I wouldn't break your heart, baby, no. I'd stop it from ever beating again. When I touch your heart, no one is going to mend it. When I'm finished with you, no one will have you. What's mine is always mine."
The forehead kiss. Maybe it gave extra power to the vines, extra power to Krit's belief that Juri had divine intervention on his side, yet it didn't stop the demon from festering. "Getting colder."
There was only one thing Krit would listen to, words that Juri would never dare utter, but Krit would always do his damn hardest to make Juri say it. He'd continue for all eternity. Until he heard the words leave Juri's lips, he was never letting go.
Juri wasn't born a good person. But his years in the monastery gave him the power to try to be good. In his eyes Krit was lost and Juri wanted to help him. He kept stepping forward as if the vines was quietly keeping the demon at bay.
There was no reaction on Juri's face, his stoicism from his monkhood shining. In the moonlight reflected a strong monk, reverent but humble. There was a nod as he let the other talk.
"I have a lot to learn then." The voice neutral and aged, as if he was double his age. The older felt a glimpse of sadness before continiung. He continue to channel his magic into the vines.
"Re focus your energy or you might hurt your heart." Jui advised pressing his hand gently on Krit's chest. He felt a heart beating, there must be compassion with Krit. But there was too much he didn't know.
Without thinking he pressed a kiss on Krit's forehead. Not in a romantic way, but the way the monks would bless a person in need. There was an eyebrow raise.
"Are you willing to listen now."
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
Krit was no devil, but the devil's creation. Now, that essence of evil was ensnared by nature. He hissed against the vines that trapped him, like a snake wanting to coil around Juri. He wanted to swallow him whole, devour the righteousness.
The laugh that followed was harrowing, and he kept laughing, shaking his head. "You think you made me?" It was just as laughable as the people who tried to strike the fear of God into him. "You've got it all wrong, baby."
It was never about pity. "Nobody could reach me. I'd have reached inside of them a thousand times before they could." There was never anything to reach. Inside, he was hollow. An empty void. "You saw what I wanted you to see." That day, he lured Juri, just as he did anyone, yet he couldn't end it. He should have ended it there.
He let out a scream of frustration because it was not that. This was not it. Krit would never be satisfied with any answer; it was just some delusion, making him think that a divine being pinned him down, that they would always keep Juri from him - they wouldn't let go. They would not allow Krit to corrupt his soul. The monk was untouchable, just to him, and it drove him crazy.
Divine intervention. Bullshit.
The lip against his ear sent a shiver down his spine, but not of fear. "Maybe put your lips somewhere else, and I'll listen."
The tension was platabile as the magic faded. Is this what Krit wanted so badly. To feel the fear. The former monk was convinced this wasn't a human or a witch. But the devil himself.
Juri writhered from the pain. The tendrils of his head searing from his mind. But even through the pain he was calm. If this was what he deserved then he accepted it. He was a monk once upon a time.
The metal against his throat was nothing, he knew the meaning of torture. The man before Asher loved using knives in the bedroom. It was easy to diassociate from Krit's words and the metal. So he began to think.
Krit seemed to think there was two options the positive response or the negative response. And Juri was going negative response feeding into Krit's demonic energy. Maybe part of him was pulled by the negativity. It was damn easy to so far.
But there was a third option. To be neutral. In the case of the oea and the supernatural, theres no doubt to pick a side. But matters of the heart especially to prove to others, and Krit wasn't an exception. So he decided for the time being to be the monk.
"That day, when I gave you the flower." He managed to say. "I saw a man in pain, a man alone....I wanted to believe that you were lost and needed the reach." Juri said. "I'm sorry that my actions twisted you into the present day." Juri said.
"I can't belong to you. No more can than the air on earth is possessed to you. I don't belong to Asher either." He paused that last part killing him on the inside. "Ultimately I belong to the cosmos and forces that be." He said.
"I want to you learn to love everyone and all species. If you succeed in that love, you will able to truly love someone with. This is the real message of love.”
There was a softened look of realization, maybe the hurt and fear worth reaching this. To finally let go of Asher worth it. There was a silence before he noticed the vine.
"Crescere arbor." Juri said as the vines were heading towards Krit, his eyes steely and determined to entrap Krit.
He waited for the vines to do their thing before letting them entrap Krit. His nose was bleeding as he came close to Krit.
"Was that something you wanted to hear?" He asked leanin his lips against Krit's ears.
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Something tells me you and I. We're the same." Darkness sensed darkness after all nature's adversaries were linked in the same way as those that served it. Were they not fated to be on the same side?
He would never match up against her. Even if dark magic ran through his veins, he was weaker. He couldn't beat her. Yet it was not about being the bigger villain; he just wanted one person. One person that unsettled him with no need for power like hers.
Whenever Krit was faced with this someone who he couldn't control, someone who had no fear... they were protected…protected by the divine beings. Yet, the darkness he felt radiating from her, there was a wickedness. It almost felt friendly.
"But are we really after the same thing?" That he was yet to know. They were both watching Juri from afar. Why? She couldn't need that much power against Juri alone...and then it settled.
A loss of contact with reality. A darkness that rotted his brain. "Do you intend to fight a God? To take away whatever the divine thing it is that protects him from us? From the demons that crave his soul?"
Maybe they, Krit and Eve, were not the same because there was always that. Gods. Gods, which were Krit's sworn enemy, a thing that he believed, watched over Juri.
"The she-devil walks among us," his gaze bore into hers. "Ave Satanas," he whispered in Latin, invoking the name to see if she really was that.
She knew he could feel it, the darkness that flowed through her veins, most could in her presence alone and yet she had more control over it than most would. The power that swirled within her was stronger. Stronger than damn near any witch in current existence, she held no fear towards anyone or anything, not even death could scare her. "Wouldn't you like to know," Everleigh counters, sly smile tugging at her lips as she held his gaze with an unwavering coldness.
Ocean hues roll at his words, a scoff easing from her lips as she gives a shake of her head. "Teasing you," she questions with a laugh. "Darling, I'm just getting started." If he kept poking there was no telling what she would do, how she would react. That alone was intoxicating, knowing her own power, her own patience level. The darkness in her veins threatened to rise, begged her to react but she pushed it down. "Don't flatter yourself," the witch retorts sharply, another scoff fleeing her lips. "You've not got much to even be able to get a sneak peek and you definitely aren't my type to even want a sneak peek."
Men. They were disgusting, annoying, and altogether just an inconvenience of her time. It was no surprise that she had avoided them ever since her divorce from Dex. "Baby, I would break you," Everleigh hums softly, taunting the other witch. "You wouldn't survive even a minute with me but A for effort, I guess."
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
He sensed something within her with just a touch. Was it just her power that radiated? But which power it was he could yet decipher. "Are you a saint or a sinner?" He questioned, witch to witch, wanting to know what side she belonged. If she felt his energy in return, it was impure, black magic.
"Quit teasing, will you?" he said, a pout forming as she pushed his arm away, eagerly awaiting her to reveal that wicked side she kept promising. The temptation he had to keep poking and prodding. No. He needed it now. He needed to know. "Oh, it's not much of a secret if you've been taking a sneaky peek, is it? Naughty girl." He thrived on making others uncomfortable, living in their discomfort, especially his own kind.
"Too bad. We could have had so much fun." His idea of fun was a little distorted, and it might be lackluster, considering she was far from his type. Stil. He was not afraid of being a little... experimental. The depths of his depravity, the core to his soul, a demon lusting for more. "But I doubt you could handle me, baby cakes," he said, blowing a mocking kiss in her direction.
Lips curled upwards into a smirk, cerulean hues staring into the other's as she gave a shake of her head. "You've got about two seconds to one, get your grimy hands off me," Everleigh retorts, brows rising as a hand rises, lifting his touch off of her shoulder. "and two, back the hell up before I show you a bad bitch because I am so not in the mood for another miniscule man who seems to think his dick is bigger than me. I'll let you in on a little secret, it's not."
A roll of her eyes is given, her gaze returning to Juri before she releases a genuine laugh. "Oh, you think I want him," the witch taunts, amusement tugging at her features, unable to fight the fits of laughter at the thought alone. "Please. I'm not even remotely interested in any of that and definitely not with the likes of you."
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
He took the knee to the gut, tumbling towards the ground. "Invisique," he uttered, placing a quick-thinking cloaking spell upon himself. It was almost cute how Juri tried his hardest, yet Krit knew this. The love charm played its course, wearing down, but that had been his intention. Wear Juri down. Krit was not a fool; he was calculated, manipulative.
What Krit would respond to most, the key, what he always asked for. The good boy. The good monk. For Juri to surrender to him.
There were times Krit hated the power Juri had over him. How his kindness would make him crumble, but that tiny thing couldn't contain him; he wouldn't be beaten down by acts of pity. It made him rise again. It unleashed him.
Krit was born with evil in his eyes. His parents hadn't beaten him into becoming this thing. He was a monster of his own making. He was the predator; they were his prey.
He warned Juri. Repeatedly.
One foot on the ground as he leaped from his knees, he uncloaked and reappeared, grabbing Juri by the hair, forcefully tugging, making sure it hurt. Ensuring his harsh drag felt like the hair was peeling from his scalp. "Stop fighting," he hissed. "You always have to make it so fucking difficult!" It was infuriating, and if Krit had to suffer, then so did Juri.
Pulling a blade out from his pocket, pressing it right up against Juri's jugular. "Keep resisting," he whispered in Juri's ear, holding him in place. "You'll see what it is. How I suffer because of you. How you - how they will suffer." He was seething, his words more venomous. "But you belong to me."
If Juri denied his request, if Juri refused to accept what he was, a mere object of Krit's desire… then Krit was forever forced to retaliate until Juri swore himself over.
He ensured they were gazing into each other's eyes, another tug on his hair. "Say it." All Juri had to say were the words. The words Krit needed to hear. "You belong to me."
Juri for the brief passing seconds let himself be pushed against the wall like he deserved, or the spell told him. A single tear drop streamed down his face. "I'm sorry." He muttered bowing his head down. "I will pray for you." Juri said sincerely.
Juri winced in pain, the brief moments of heartache and as the spell wore off he felt the searing anger in him. "Who the fuck do you think you are." Juri spat back. "You will not hurt the people I love Krit." He yelled. Juri let the anger boil inside him as if it was fuel.
For Riley, for Parker, for Artemis, for Luna, for Jem, and of course Asher. He was not going to let Krit destroy everything he loved because of a mistake. It would teach him to not be kind to others but it will teach him to fight for everyone. There was a smirk when he remembered one trick he learned from a certain mall cop.
He forcefully placed both hands on the guy's shoulders at the mere mention of he cared about, as if TJ was there by his side instructing him. He aimed a knee at the guy's gut — violence, at this point, seemed like the only thing Krit would listen to. "Keep talking, motherfucker."
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
He found her response dull, predictable. He had hoped for something more. Not this. "At least own it, honey," he remarked. It didn't bother him that she waved off his threats; fearlessness was especially fun. They were a challenge, tougher to break. It garnered a smirk in response. "But if you want to play, be a bad bitch, not a pathetic one." He reached out, fingers crawling up her shoulder. "Do me a favor and try next time," he suggested, with a dismissive shrug.
He considered ignoring her altogether and returning to his own affairs. After all, there were more interesting games to be played, but she did have his attention; that was one mark to her. "You're not exactly his type, but I'm sure there is some room if you want to share?" He offered in consolation for the troubles.
The intrusion was infuriating, the threats even more so, pulling a cold laugh from the blonde's lips as their gaze's met and arms crossed over her chest. Bold? Yes. Brave? Or just incredibly stupid. Brows rise dangerously in his direction, fear nowhere to be found in her frame as she stood her ground, head tilting to the side as she pushes a feigned pout to her lips. "Oh sweetheart," Everleigh retorts. "Am I supposed to be scared? Hold on, let me just-" Hands rise tauntingly. "I'm shaking in my boots," the blonde speaks, sarcasm dripping off her tongue like honey. "Please don't hurt me." Dark laughter rolling off her lips as she shakes her head, a single hand pressing against his chest as she gives a light push, less than appreciative of the intrusion of her space as her gaze narrows and arms cross over her chest once more. "Do us both a favor and save those threats for some that might actually care," the witch snaps.
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Krit," he said, his tone sharp. Perhaps she had caught him off guard because he couldn't deny that the painting had captured his attention—a field of marigolds. The vibrant hues of the flowers seemed to mock him as they always did.
"What most people see are pure, perfect things," he acknowledged. "But I see that they await their destruction by the shadow in the field that follows them." He pointed out the delicate petals, tracing the subtle signs of decay. "In time," he continued, "the shadow that surrounds them will engulf them. It's necessary." A twisted smile curled at the corners of his lips. "They need to be embraced by the arms of the shadow because they belong to the darkness. They always have."
He imagined himself as the shadow in that field, aware that even the brightest things would eventually yield to him. "They are intertwined, just as a shadow is tied to the sun's light. The sun itself can be deadly, so they seek refuge in the shadows. It's essential. They understand that in the embrace of the shadow, they find shelter from the sun's lethal glare. The shadow will suffocate them, it will deprive them of the sun's nutrients, but death is the balance to their life."
"i'm cordelia, and it's a pleasure to meet you too-- i don't believe i caught your name, sweetie." the world of business has prepared her for men like this, that think they could speak however they wanted to others with no regards to niceties, specifically to woman. that was why it didn't bother her, she didn't shy away from it or let them make her small, she'd never give them what they wanted in that way. "i could, but first why don't you tell me what you see as you look at it. that's far more important if you're interested in buying the piece."
59 notes
·
View notes
Text
Feeling welcomed by Jem gave Krit the impression that Juri hadn't said a word. Perfect. He'd just continue to play her like he had all along.
"If I knew you were signing autographs, I'd have brought a pen and a photo for you to sign." Motioning toward the fans she had just left. How adorable. "Don't tell Juri, but you always kinda were my favorite, so tell me. How's life? How's New Orleans treating you? Good, I hope?" He continued the small talk, but he had an underlying motive, as always.
"What if we bring home here? Movie night? Just the three of us - we never really did get to hang out together, did we?" The complications of that, oh, how thrilling just the thought was, but to get Juri to even agree to it, he knew he had to play cautious, using Jem as the middle-man per se. "But I'm going to need your help. He doesn't know I'm here. I texted him that I would come, but he said not to bother, and I kinda wanted to surprise him, so how about you arrange something between the two of you? And I'll be the surprise?"
𓂃𓊝𓄹𓄺
Jem was surprised to bump into some of her fans here. Since she did all of her modeling work back in Thailand, she figured that nobody would really know her in the States, let alone in New Orleans of all places. Feeling a sense of elation, she did her best to please the little crowd of girls, nodding in agreement when they asked for photos and signatures.
She did apologize to the passersby, feeling that the little gathering might be causing a bit of a traffic jam in the walkway. Quickly finishing up with the fan service, she had just waved off the girls when she heard the male's voice.
Turning toward the sound of her name, her eyes widened as she smiled in surprise. "Oh my god, Krit?" She reached out as he got closer, touching his arm with her hand before eyeing him with a look of disbelief. "Please, you're not late at all. Quite a pleasant surprise really, it's been a while."
Hearing her explanations and reasons, she waved off with a shake of her head before smiling back wearily. "He definitely needs more people that care about him to be around, but I don't think he's up for such a long travel. As much as it sounds like a good plan, it's probably not the best one right now."
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
With each backward step Asher took, Krit advanced, a smirk playing upon his lips. "Nah ah, I wouldn't," he chided, wagging a finger in a mocking gesture as Asher reached towards the blade. "Why so afraid?" Krit mused, his movements calculated to maintain the oppressive closeness between them. "You killed me once - afraid to do it again?" How pathetic that would be.
His hands splayed out in a disarming gesture, though the magic surged beneath his veins. "I won't hurt you. I'm not back for revenge because you killed me, no, no." A shake of his head - death hadn't fazed him. "I'm here to remind you what happens when you touch my things." That thing being Juri. "I know he'll come running to you, but he's a little confused right now...but I'll make it right. I'll make sure he forgets you. He'll come running towards me, eventually. I just need to get rid of you."
But just removing Asher from the picture would not do. He had to go big. "Your sister?" He plucked someone who he figured Asher might care for. Feel responsible for. "She's pretty, isn't she? A real tough one," he continued taunting. "Will you run to her when you hear her scream? Will you abandon Juri just once for her?" Perhaps he was giving Asher a choice. Perhaps he was just offering a sample of what his next move was.
Asher’s brow furrowed as he turned towards the source of the voice, his jaw tensing as his eyes met the Krit’s hollow own. He had slaughtered hundreds in the name of the OEA, if not thousands -- but he didn't forget a single face. He couldn't, no matter how mercilessly he tried to fight it. To forget. Ever since the deceased had started returning, he’d wondered how long he would be able to escape his heinous past from catching up to him.
Inhaling a sharp breath, he began to reach for the weapon still secured against his belt, mainly through force of habit. “What do you want?”
Asher forced distance between them, his hand secure against the handle of his blade before glancing calculatedly around their surroundings and back to Krit “what the fuck are you talking about?”
39 notes
·
View notes
Text
In the distance, Juri's figure loomed, trailed by two pairs of eyes, each harboring their own motives.
Krit closed in on the other watcher. "He belongs to me," he declared with a whisper in her ear. He didn't like competition - he wouldn't tolerate competition, but she dared to step into his territory.
"If you value your pretty hands, sweetheart, you'll keep them away. I'm already about to teach one person a lesson about touching things they shouldn't: my things. I'd hate to add another." Oh, he wouldn't hate it so much. That was a lie. "But your hands are pretty, too pretty to waste. Maybe I'll just repurpose them into something more...decorative."
@traegics (closed for everleigh)
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
It was a surprise Krit didn't burn alive as he stepped into the Lord's house, but yet this sanctuary was so easy to trespass, and that made it the devil's favorite playground, where he could prey on the weakness that drove people here - faith. No divine intervention would save these fools.
"Oh, father, forgive me for I have sinned," he said with a twisted glee as his words echoed, devoid of remorse, guilt, of anything a usual patron may have.
His gaze pierced towards the priest, noticing the unbuttoned shirt, the tie hanging over his shoulders. Something was off. "But something tells me I'm not the only one."
Oh, this one would be entertaining. There was nothing Krit enjoyed more than the undoing of those who claimed themselves against all sin. "The devil's in the detail, and my, the devil is reaching over your shoulder."
Starter for @exitiumstarters
Despite it being way earlier in the afternoon that he'd intended, the preacher had been in the back of the church, drinking some of the communion wine. It had become a bit of a habit for him; finish a sermon, drink some wine, do paperwork for the church, drink the rest of the bottle of wine, go home, sleep it off, repeat the next day.
However, today was a little more different. Hannes had been drinking, as usual, when he heard the front door of the church being open. Quickly he rounded the corner, his dress shirt unbuttoned at the top and his tie hanging over his shoulders. Where was his suit jacket? No one knew, not even him. He noticed someone walking through the threshold and sitting in one of the seats.
"Is there something I can help you with, my child?" He asked softly, moving over to sit down next to them, hoping he could be helpful (for once).
11 notes
·
View notes