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@◆ ﹕ lilith. Kijoon wasn’t the type of hero to look for instant gratification in the form of praise whenever he saved someone, sometimes people actually disliked him for causing a bit too much damage nearby even if he saved people’s lives. Most of them were businessmen and high-ranking capitalists who were just bothered by their building being ‘hurt’ even with the safety of innocents. For those people, he did not care one bit – unless they sued him for property damage (never happened, no one really dares do that to a superhero). It was this girl – scratch that, this singer (he didn’t know her that well to address her like that in his head yet) – Eve, whose expression was unreadable. It might have been neutral or even annoyed, but she was damn good at masking it. It was … curious for someone who was just saved from three men who were about to do unspeakable things to her.

He eyed her closely through his glasses, and Kijoon even took note of her body language. She stood there calmly, like Kijoon merely dropped one of his belongings instead of almost killing a bunch of grown men in front of her. Almost, he thinks to himself, as he knew they would probably pass away from their injuries. They did not see his face, and they would only be saved if someone found them and called an ambulance. Not really Kijoon’s problem as they were about to assault this poor, innocent young woman.

Her calm expression did dig at him slightly, her silence even more, but worry bloomed in his chest as he saw the brief tremble in her hand as she typed – wait, why was she typing? ‘Ah … she’s a singer. She must be on vocal rest right now, understandable.’ One would normally think of something else like a disability, Kijoon was just mildly mistaken in his assumption and spoke. It did look like she understood him when he spoke.

Eyes squinting, he peered at her phone screen with her first message.

“Not now, but considering the amount of blood on the floor ... pretty soon. Do you want me to make sure they're dead?” he lightly joked, but he shifted his tone as he realized joking at a time when she was freshly scared and in danger would be inappropriate. “Sorry – oh. You’re welcome.”

His muscled relaxed and he took a step back, his nose wrinkling as he noticed a pool of blood getting onto his shoes. Kijoon took a glance at Eve, not really in shock that he’s meeting an artist. She was far from his favourite, she just interested him and he came with a free ticket … to a show that he basically missed. His expression was more of concern, only up close could you see it through his tinted glasses and his half smile that only barely lifted his cheeks.

“I won’t hurt you.” he reassured her almost out of reflex. It was always something he needed to say when saving people, which was strange because this was the first time he’d said it without seriously using his powers. He cocked his head to the side, to the alleyway’s exit. “I can you back inside if you want, I promise I’m safer than these losers.” he added, easing up with a teasing tone and gently kicking the men on the ground who would definitely bleed to death once he and Eve left them alone.

@◇ ﹕ geminus. Just as Lilith's lips part—to sing, to let her voice out—an unfamiliar presence makes itself known. She notices the stranger a second too late, gaze zoning in on the figure behind the men. Hands emerge from behinnd, grabbing onto their heads, and she can hear the sickening sound of bones hitting. Violence no longer disturb her, not when she has seen worse, has *done* worse. And so, she can only watch with slightly wide eyes as the men fall down to the ground. The third grasps at his throat at the punch, before falling onto the ground as well, barely even able to groan. She stands so perfectly still, as her eyes now move from the fallen men to the new stranger, an intruder, an *unwanted* presence.

(Why now? Why try to save her now, when these were not her predators? Why interrupt her now, when she's about to feast on her preys?

Why now?)

The first thing she notices is the glasses. Lightly tinted, though she still cannot see the man's expression properly from where she stands, and she purses her lips, wondering how he can see in these ungodly hours. The next thing she notices is the droplets of blood that have stained his shirt, and wonders if there should be more. Might be, if she's managed to do what she's wanted. Might have been a pool on the floor, had she managed to do what she planned. This is not the first time she's seen these men, and this is not the first time they'd attempted to follow her out.

The unwanted touches, leeching stares—it makes Lilith want to crawl out of her skin, to gouge their eyes out with her own fingers, nails digging into flesh. Her song would've been a blessing for what would have been their bleeding ears, a last touch of mercy before she claims their lives.

Oh, but this man has ruined it. He has ruined everything. She hates it when men meddle with her plans.

Her irritation does not show on her visage. It does not show in her movements. Slowly, she reaches out into the pocket of her skirt, pulling her phone out. Quickly, she types in it, and holds out the phone for the man to be able to read the screen, but not taking a step further from where she stands.

— Are you sure they are not dead? —

The words are typed in casual tone. Her visage lacks any hints of fear, but her hand does tremble slightly. Faintly. She wonders if he'll notice it, if he'll assume it is out of fear. (After all, who would not be afraid? If she weren't who she was, then those three men would have been Death's way of claiming her.)

She brings her phone back to herself again, hesitating. But when she shows it back to him, there is a new sentence.

— Thank you. —

[post deleted by owner]

@◆ ﹕ lilith. Kijoon rarely chose to actively attend live events, no plans to check out concerts or minor gigs, but the opportunity laid itself in front of him. How could he refuse when he was given a free ticket? One of his university friends had recommended him a singer, being an avid fan of this girl – Lilith, was the artist’s name. Typically he would just play the song or YouTube video mindlessly while he was working on some project or was in mid-repair.

It was the first time someone’s lyrics actually caught his attention. One particular song, he couldn’t remember the title, but the lyrics kept him hooked. Her voice was beautiful as well, the whole song felt like a hug for him. He couldn’t fully explain why, but that song and a few others of hers were on repeat for hours while he worked on his bike.

It was strange, his interest in her. Initially when the songs were playing, he had almost felt a pull but he ripped apart quickly, knowing that the last time he fully let his attention get away was in that playground years ago. He picked apart the lyrics of the first song he listened to, feeling a sharpness in his stomach because he related to the lyrics. A human forced with the responsibilities and image of a divine being, something she sang flawlessly and something he related to with ease. He didn’t bother

So him accepting the free ticket from his friend – the poor guy was forced into a dinner with his parents on the same night of Lilith’s gig – was no surprise. Kijoon wasn’t as crazed of a fan as his friend was, but her songwriting ability actually piqued his interest for once.

It was just that Kijoon was given the luck of an ant blind to its imminent squishy death as he misread the ticket and arrived a few minutes before midnight, thinking the show would start at that time. He definitely should have questioned why it was so late, but the venue was a bar so he assumed late night shows were common. Her show was at 11, and he arrived when 3 songs were left in her setlist. He couldn’t even get a proper seat in the front, the crowd had pushed him close to the doorway and all he could do was grind his teeth in mild irritation. He even tossed his lemonade into the nearby potted plant as he was no longer in the right mood. The fact that he missed the song that he liked so much was annoying, but her last 3 songs were still of quality.

Now, he would do as he normally did: loiter. Maybe buy an actual alcoholic drink, but he was more likely to buy some french fries or other cheap finger foods you get with a beer. Kijoon’s eyes settled into their normal half-lidded state, what his friends like to call his “lazy bedroom eyes” but he did it to conserve energy. His tinted glasses were lighter today, merely transition lenses, because he knew he’d be attending a night event, anyone would be weirded out by a man in darker shades indoors.

He felt a figure pass as he sat still in his barstool. Three more figures, but the first one was a much more obvious guess: it was the singer Lilith, with three very suspicious men following her a few steps behind. Kijoon saw it all in his peripheral vision and it made his skin prickle and his stomach turn in disgust. He knew danger when he saw it, it came with the hero profession he had slowly grown into after years.

The reputation he carried as Geminus among other heroes wasn’t terrible but it wasn’t great, only right in the middle because some heroes felt he was only a man of action when it was fully necessary to move. Kijoon disliked the naysayers who didn’t truly know about his MO, they were only half-right. He could never sit still when it came to the weaker people. Attempts to protect the injured and sick, the elderly, and especially women and children were more common but a few refused to see it in his line of work. Not that he cared about what some of the more arrogant heroes thought of him.

“Ah, .” he whispered into his empty glass, before setting it down and following the three suspects and the poor defenseless singer. He did not know her personally, and would never expect a reward. As long as she was safe.

His sprint was quick and soundless as he had learned to do over the years. The mechanic’s ears started ringing in anger as he heard their words.

"in' . Could've just asked us earlier." Disgusting, to the point where he almost used his offensive energy blasts. He was not in hero mode, not even in costume, but he could throw a mean punch no matter what. Far from weak even in offensive mode, he was thankful that he was athletic and had a high level of strength. He knew not to rely on his powers fully for close combat. If they tried anything, they’d just be confused at Kijoon’s durability without putting two and two together.

The three men took half a collective step forward and Kijoon grabbed two of the men’s heads, smashing them into each other. They fell to the ground, immediately disoriented while the other received a punch straight to the nose and throat from Kijoon a moment later. A few droplets of blood splattered onto Kijoon’s shirt and chin from the men impacted by his punch. It was gross, but nothing out of the ordinary for him. His knuckles wouldn’t bruise much either, a punch or two wouldn’t scathe him even on offensive mode.

He quickly turned to the singer, significantly smaller than him, his cloudy eyes returning back to their normal defensive brown and black. The change wasn’t visible much since it was too dark, and his tinted glasses were hiding them further.

“Are you okay? Let’s get you inside before they wake up.”

@◇ ﹕ geminus. ( tw: violent thoughts? men... )

One, two, three steps.

There are three men who walk the same path Lillith has taken, her own steps as silent as the streets. It is a huge contrast to the almost festive dance music from the bar, even if she can still hear it in the distance. Her shift ends a little after midnight, a mere couple of hours until the sun rises, lifting the veil of illusion the moon grants the earth. There are three men who walk steadily after her, and yet she makes no effort in hastening her pace.

One, two, three steps, and more—all these, just to walk a familiar path.

There is the urge to hum, perhaps as a useless attempt in ensuring that these men followed after her. They've lingered near her ever since she's stepped foot on stage tonight, a trio of somewhat familiar faces. She knows she has seen them before, knows that they are regulars at the bar—such regulars, that her seniors at work know of their names and their habits, the same order of liquor every night.

Of course, with those mentions of habits come a warning. One of them has had his eyes on her, or so her seniors say. A dark glint in his gaze, his intentions evident in the way he would run his gaze down her figure, even if her dresses are loose, flowy down to her knees. Lilith knows, of course—she knows when she is being stared at. She knows these intentions too well, especially those that they do not even bother to hide. Why would they bother to hide it? Men often get what they want, after all—be it conquests or their primal desires.

(She knows it too well. It's the only gaze she sees from men.)

At this hour of the night, there is almost no one else around. A perfect opportunity for a hunter, for one who has taken on the role of a predator. The streets are loud, despite the lack of obvious presence of a crowd. Its darkness whispers of danger, Death lurking in its shadows. Lilith knows these streets too well. It is her home, she supposes; it is where she is *herself.*

(Fire rages through her veins, rising from the depths of her chest. Her hands twitch by her sides, arms now moving to cross by her front—the desire to bury her nails into their necks is becoming stronger by the minute.)

She finds herself in a familiar alleyway, though she must admit that these alleyways become the same once stained by the same dirty blood. There is a bricked wall by the end of this alley, and she stops in her steps.

She looks over her shoulder, and there they are, grinning. Her eyebrows furrow as she now turns around, making a step away from them with every step they take forward to her. She raises her hands to her chest, curled into fists, as fear paints over her face.

(But it is not fear that she feels. She hasn't felt fear in a while, in *years.* Instead, there is rage—a red the same shade as the blood she's spilled, and if she lets herself feel, if she lets herself *go,* then perhaps that same crimson will take over how she views the world. Would it not be wonderful, to lose herself in the intensity of her anger?)

"Got lost, didn't ya?"

She bites onto her lower lip.

She cannot use her voice just yet.

"You led us right here, where you know no one can see." They are closing in a little more, taking their time, knowing full well that their *prey* has nowhere to run to. "in' . Could've just asked us earlier."

She bites deeper into her lower lip, not enough to draw blood, but almost enough to make her bruise. One more step, and no one will ever notice they're gone. *One more step * and they will become one with the blood that has already stained the bricked walls of this alleyway.

Just *one* more step, and her hands will rid them of their breath.

@◆ ﹕ lilith. sungjae tastes blood.

earlier that night he had chewed his bottom lip until it bled, courtesy of the men that frequented their supposedly quiet spot off in the corner. yuanbin had been hunched over at the very end of the bar, lazily swirling the remaining liquid in his glass. sungjae had lost count of how many drinks the younger's had in the past two hours, nor did he take any interest in trying the liquor his charge was currently trying to drown himself in. it's not like he could taste the alcohol anyway.

instead he'd been preoccupied with staring down the bar's drunkest patrons, watching them stumble around where they weren't supposed to. he'd watch them approach yuanbin with drinks in hand and their chins held up high, sounding too proud for their own good, thinking they could win the pretty boy over with money and empty promises. the more sungjae listened, the more he wished he could shove the arrogance back into their throat and watch them choke on it. he'd pull yuanbin's barstool closer then, wrapping an arm around his waist in an attempt to make the younger look like he was taken.

but the heavens were testing him.

for the past few days they've been here, sungjae had come to memorize the faces of a particular group of men that frequented the bar at slightly different time periods during the night. he didn't care who they were or what they did until they'd come into contact with yuanbin way too many times that night, their hands wandered where they shouldn't, squeezing at the younger's waist, caressing his neck—leaning in for a kiss, even—and sungjae saw red. those men were lucky yuanbin was so forgiving even in his state, because he'd quickly urged sungjae to sit back down once he felt the older's mood spike dangerously. "it's okay, puppy. he didn't hurt me."

sungjae didn't care. he was going to kill them.

he'd had his eye on them all night, the urge to hunt them ever present. he'd led yuanbin to a seat closer to one of the exits, and after politely asking one of the staff to keep an eye on him for a while, sungjae slipped out into the night after the group had quickly scrambled for the door in pursuit of god knows what. his steps were silent as he stalked behind them like a predator, hood pulled over his head as he followed their scents into some alleyway behind the bar.

when they were far enough from the streets, sungjae had lunged for the closest one, every muscle in his body fueled by anger and spite. they surrounded him then, and sungjae couldn't help the mildly unhinged laugh that fell from his lips as they noticed the blood dripping from his lips, having torn off the man's arm first for even daring to touch what was his. sungjae had gone delirious with anger that he'd made a bloody mess of them in that alleyway, crimson pooled beneath him, stained his entire front, poured where he had dug his claws into soft flesh. sungjae almost startles when he feels hunger claw at his gut, and he crouches over the bodies, lifting one of them onto his arm as if they weighed nothing.

but before he could take a bite, the slightest sound from somewhere else in the alley caught his attention. he had slowly craned his head to look up, swallowing hard and tasting sweet blood in his throat. much to his surprise, he makes eye contact—there was a woman who'd been standing there for god knows how long. and like a deer in headlights, sungjae simply stares at her, more confused than anything, all red-eyed and bloody and unmoving. waiting for her to move first.