#minsungmp

Mouse Trap | cont from here w/ @minsungmp ft Phobetor & Minsung 

@minsungmp

Aphrodite; one of the Olympian gods Hades had little interest in. She was a goddess of love, of course, which one might think made him respect her considering his long love for his wife, but Hades thinks differently. After all; he loved before she was ever even born, and he thinks he will love long after she perishes. His love is not born from Aphrodite’s power of seduction, but rather stems from something much more ancient, much more powerful, if you ask him.

So the connection to Aphrodite is not why he approaches the young man. Rather it is something else entirely, a connection between the god of the Underworld and the dead, and the one who has sent many a person down to those depths. The connection between family, even if distantly related, even if unwilling. It is enough to set his feet in motion and to make him walk over to the young demigod, clouded in the night as they both are.

For @minsungmp

It was usual to see Aphrodite out past midnight - whoever made Cinderella’s carriages turn back to pumpkins was a fool but now was when the best parties began. And plus, she could easily get her beauty sleep back the next morning.

Even by the dim moonlight, her face was radiant and every small step of her feet against the pavement seemed like the most elegant move ever recorded by mankind - though anyone not affected by her charms might’ve seen her as just another pretty woman in stilts. She’d parked her car, taking the short walk towards one of the more popular clubs, when she overheard an argument coming from one of the alleyways. A voice - one she recognised.

“Another, please-” Phobetor nods to the barman as a long, slender finger gestures to the empty tumbler glass before him on the dark bar. With one leg folded over the other, the point of his brogues touching the tiled floor with his height, as he leans to the side against the bar. His eyes observe the young man pouring his drink, dark gaze appreciating his lines and the skill with which he puts a flair into the simple task, with a directed flirtatious gaze of interest. 

Not tonight, however, the escort thinks with an internal sigh as he turns his gaze away and lifts his now filled drink by the rim of the cool glass. Tonight was about enjoying time on his own and a good vintage spirit, not about picking up strays. Lifting the glass to his lips he wets he bottom tier with a slosh of liquid and returns his gaze to scanning the bar around him. This was one of his favourite activities, to sit and observe the world around him. Watch how people interact or how they dress, along with varied mating rituals that almost leave the god feeling as if he were watching a nature documentary.

@minsungmp​:

A dream is just a dream.

That’s what he’s been telling himself when the memory of fire ablaze in the middle of cold December flashed through his mind. There were screams and shouting but Minsung couldn’t comprehend what they were shouting at, everything seems to be deafened by the sound of crackling fire that’s burning down his home into ashes.

Then there’s ashes, the remains of what he used to call it home. Among the ashes there lay a really familiar face, a face that hold striking resemblance with him and yes, the face of his twin brother Minsung. The faint of life in his eyes stares right through his core, it scares him and in the midst of all that, he screamed, telling them to just stop.

Minsung jolted awake, beads of sweat rolling down his head as his breathing ragged, trying to inhale as much air as he could. His eyes scanned over his surrounding, sheer fabrics draped over the curtains, a faint smell of roses–he’s not in his home.

His instincts told him to run, he can feel the airways getting constricted again as he turned around to meet warm brown optics staring at him. His shoulders slouched and his breathing comes in a much slower, steadier pace, he’s safe, his brain told him, mom’s here.

The thing that he craved the most is the thing that he avoids the most, ironically. Ever since his brother and father were killed, Minsung got nothing to lose. Attachments means that he has something to lose, something to protect and something to return to, in which, he’s scared that he’ll lose it again. The nightmare that had been haunting him since that night is like a reminder of the inevitable; nothing lasts forever. Eventually, his mother will go and abandon him again.

Minsung leaned over, resting his forehead on her shoulder inhaling the faint smell of roses and oddly enough, home, a smell of familiarity. It feels weird but he’s too exhausted to think further, the image of red flames dancing in the middle of that cold winter day shook him more than he thought it would and especially the sight of his dead father and brother.

The rage and wrath manage to make him forget about them. He always justifies it as revenge but that’s half of the truth. Truth is that he doesn’t want to deal with grief and loss of his family where he belonged and right now, he feels the same familiar feeling that he’s been longing for the last two years; home.

He sniffled, shoulders trembling as tears streamed down his face. He didn’t mean to cry at all, but it just happened at a worse time and at the worst place. “I missed them…” he sobbed, voice strained by the hiccups as he tries to breathe in between. “I missed them,” he wailed, wiping his face harshly to force the tears to stop but nothing really ever goes his way does it? Only now that he realized how lonely and empty he is.

She knew that it was a big step for Minsung to sleep over at her place - the boy always seemed to tightly wound, so angry at a world that he felt had betrayed him. Aphrodite hadn’t spent an entire lifetime at his side, and in fact could hardly recall who his father even was, but he was still her child. Looking down at him, head rested on her silken pillow, she couldn’t help but think about how mortal he was.

He was just a boy and perhaps took after his father more than she (although, naturally, the beauty was all hers). He had not, and most likely would not, live for eternity like she would. Mortality was something that she had become more aware of in the past months but, rather than mourning it, Aphrodite took it as motivation to make the best of what time she could have with him.

“Sweet Minsung,” she whispered to herself, about to turn away and retreat to her own room - but then she heard him. Minsung didn’t say anything, but he sounded as though he was hurt. Brows furrowed and breaking out in sweat; Aphrodite knew that something was wrong. Perhaps it was just a bad dream, but even that was enough to spark her concern.

“Baby, baby?” she spoke softly, reaching out to pat his shoulder but was instead shocked when he bolted upright in bed, “Oh my–” He had never really told her what happened, never seeming to open up about the pain he carried inside of him, but Aphrodite could tell that it had caught up with him. As Minsung leaned his head against her shoulder, a vulnerable action that he had never done before, Aphrodite wrapped her arms around him.

Minsung had stumbled in front of her, and the demigoddess feared that he hurt himself, twisted his ankle, or did something worse. It was with a wave of nagging that she had convinced him to let her help him to the nearest doctors office, and she had helped him into the room before disappearing to the lobby.

She covered any of his expenses without a single thought, and she waited patiently outside with Siwoo sat in her lap and chatted with her. He always been such a good boy, and new places, much like this doctor's office, always sent him into a wave of questions. Angela always felt so proud of him for this.

When Minsung came out, the pair immediately stood up. "Of course I stayed." She spoke softly, moving over to affectionately ruffle his hair. "I wasn't sure whether I should call Yuqi or if you might need more help home."

Her heart stopped, because all she had ever wanted was to love Minsung and yet he never seemed to allow her to. Her eyes were downcast as she sat beside him, fighting the urge to hold him.