Genre: AU, supernatural
Prompt: Adopted the prompt by kpopbee and written with her permission.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything apart from the story. I wish I had YunJae and if I had my way, they'd move to New Zealand so they can be civil-unionised here :P
Summary: There is a war brewing for control of Hell and the result hangs on the slim, pale shoulders of a young human. As pure and white as snow, yet the mark of the devil is on him, Jaejoong is destined to be the forsaken one. The bride of the Lucifer himself, his destiny was written from the day he was born on the 6th day of the 6th month of the 6th year of the new millennium. He may be the pawn of Destiny, his future supposedly damned, but a demonic prophecy throws chaos into the mix and nothing is certain anymore.
AN: This is for my twin. She’s been very patient waiting for this fic and I appreciate it very much. I also miss her because I’ve been busy with work and writing and gah! So yeah, Ariel this is for you ;-)
Jaejoong rushes in out of the pouring rain, thoroughly soaked to the bone even though he’d only run out for a minute to attempt to grab his cat that had taken off to parts unknown when it saw him approach. The storm is violent in its intensity, thunder crashing almost continuously, and sheet lightning illuminating the darkened sky every other minute. The wind is blowing so ferociously that the house is literally shaking on its foundations. He is alone in the house, his parents and siblings away, and trapped at the airport due to the storm that has blanketed his part of the world for the last three days. There is no news, as power lines have been down for almost two days and no sane person is venturing out into the streets. Schools and offices are closed, and various parts of the city flooded as the storm continues to rage. He doesn’t bother lighting candles, content to sit in the dark. He knows his way around the large house well enough without needing a guide, and his eyesight is acute despite the gloom, assisted by the lightning that brightens his world for a split second every now and again. As he stares out the window, a loud rattling starts, and he realises it is hailing. Hailing in June. So much for summer.
He strips quickly out of his sodden clothes, shivering in the cold, the chill sinking into his very bones as the hammering intensifies. It sounds as if bowling balls are being dropped on the roof, but he knows that surely that cannot be true. He doesn’t want to check though, as he squeezes his clothes as best he can, knowing he cannot dry them anytime soon. He drapes them over the clotheshorse that he’s never seen used, and hopes for the best as he exits the laundry, making his way to his bedroom, uncaring that he is walking around in the nude. There is no one to see him anyway, and even if there were, Jaejoong can’t actually bring himself to care.
The last year has been strange and unsettling for him. He starts to notice that it isn’t just animals who shy away from him. Plants do so too. It is extremely disconcerting to sit by a patch of flowers, only to look up and see all the blooms turned away from him. Flowers die within hours around him, not days.
He is still a very popular boy, and on Valentine’s Day four months ago, he’d received many declarations of love, from males and females alike, accompanied by an array of the biggest and brightest from the florist just outside his school. However anything he touches, shrivels up and dies, and by the end of the day, he is left with blackened bouquets, unable to explain why it happens. When he returns to school the next day, he finds it under investigation as almost a fifth of the entire student body is down with some sort of ailment. Something in his gut tells him to explore the connection, and he is horrified to find out that every single one of those stricken, were one of those that had declared their affection for him in one way or the other the previous day. Jaejoong turns into a recluse that very day, even though he is practically one already. He socialises within school hours, and during his extra curricular activities after school, but he rarely engages in anything outside those times. His personality though, endears him to all, and so they overlook the odd and uncharacteristic behaviour of the seventeen year old. His parents believe him to be a good and scholastic boy, as he stays in his room a lot, gets perfect grades and never gives them any trouble. If they only knew the reason why.
Kim Jaejoong spends almost half his day asleep, in the embrace of a faceless man he yearns to touch. When he was sixteen, he’d go to bed by 10pm. On the eve of his 18th birthday, he is walking up to the familiar comfort of his room and bed at the ridiculous hour of seven. It is not like he has anything else to do, he reasons to himself, as he crawls into bed. Thunder crashes outside his window, the house moaning and creaking in the wind as he lays down. No matter what hour he goes to bed, he never has any trouble falling asleep. And this night isn’t any different. So despite the riotous cacophony going on outside, the storm more supernatural than natural if anyone cared to take note, Jaejoong falls asleep. However this time, he has to wait awhile before he is joined by the one whose touch he craves, as unbeknownst to him, there is a battle raging at the moment for possession of him.
Outside, the earth suddenly trembles, a gentle ripple across the surface that will register on whatever working richter scale in the vicinity as a widespread earthquake, but really, it is an angry footstep. The footstep of a being that is not bothering to mask his supremely malignant presence as he normally does, as he steps onto this fragile realm. Hail the size of golf balls is still falling, but nothing is touching the black figure stalking through the street, as he finally comes to a halt in front of the large house that he visits every night. His eyes flare red, before dimming to a solid dull black.
The earth groans under him, struggling to bear his weight, as he stares balefully at the demon that has dared to defy him, that has dared start a war in the depths of Hell. However that battle is only a distraction, and when Lucifer finds out the other demon’s true reason for starting the trifling uprising that he squashes with no problem, he brings their war to earth. The earth weeps and cries as their minions continue to battle, and now he stands in the swirling mist that is gathering around him, dark wisps of smoke licking around his body as the supernatural elements try to mark him. But it is all for naught. He is the Devil, and nothing can touch him. His glare is malevolent and any other creature in all of the realms would have been obliterated by his gaze alone, but the being in front of him is no common demon. He smirks wickedly at the pitiful creature that is now standing and shaking in suppressed fear and fury in front of the home of his bride.
The demon spits out the name. He has been wounded in their battle, but despite the fear coursing through him as he stares at his brother, he feels close to victory, the Devil unable to keep him away from his bride. He can almost taste the victory. He would never have chosen a male to be his bride, but if it thwarts his brother and that fucking prophecy, so be it.
The word comes out as a hiss, even though there are no sibilant letters in the name. Yunho is furious at the audacity of the being, but he is more than secure in his bride. His fury is more at the daring of his brother, and wasting his time and energy over the futility of his paltry attack. He will never learn. Hasn’t he watched the boy enough to know that anything that tries to touch him will perish? There is one last defence in this pre-emptive war that his brother has started, and Jaejoong is it. Jiyong will pay for his lack of judgment, for daring to seek his bride out. Yunho cannot kill him, but he can certainly maim him, torture him, damn him to an eternity on this pitiful planet. A planet that can barely stand his presence. Jiyong clearly still has powerful allies, but Yunho is the Lord of the Underworld, and he needs to send a message loud and clear across all the realms that he is not to be trifled with. His brother will be made an example of.
“So you’ve taken a human bride? And to think you scoffed at my preference for mortal women for eons. Had your fill of incubi?”
“You dare speak to me?”
“Arrogant as always, dear brother. But it is I and not you that is standing on the threshold of your bride’s home.”
“And reckless as always, Azazel.”
The demon scoffs, even as he winces inwardly at the energy within himself. He knows he is in an extremely weakened state at the moment, and his damnable brother is anything but. However, he truly believes he has the upper hand. He knows of the prophecy of course. It is actually really simple in its interpretation.
For the one who finds his Destiny first, the Universe will be His.
However, Azazel has interpreted it a little too simply.
“Once I enter this house, you know you can’t step foot into it.”
“Why don’t you try?”
Yunho’s voice is mocking, infuriating the other demon who places a hand on the doorknob, only to feel a bolt of energy spring out from it, sapping his strength even further, and he lets go with a howl of vexation at being thwarted. This cannot be right. The boy is the chosen one, he knows it. He has been told of it by both human and demon prophecies alike. The child born of the 6th day of the 6th month in the 6th year of the millenium. This is the right human, so why can’t he enter the house?
“Stop calling me that.”
“It is your name, is it not?”
“A title, one I do not care for. It should have been you that was cast out, and given this name. Not I. I should have been Lucifer.”
“But you are not.”
“I will be, when I get to this mortal. For the one who finds his Destiny first, the Universe will be His.”
“The boy is not your Destiny. He is mine.”
Jiyong freezes in his act of placing his hand on the doorknob once again. Why would that matter? No, the prophecy is clear. The boy is the chosen one, and therefore he is the Destiny of whomever gets to him first. Isn’t that right? He draws his hand back and instead, summons the last of his reserves to obliterate the door instead. He can hear the seductive chuckle of his brother behind him. The sound is a weapon in itself, able to entrance whomever that hears it, and in his severely weakened state, he cannot fight it off, as he turns slowly to face Lucifer, Prince of Darkness, even as he fights the impulse. But the Devil is too strong, too potent, and the malicious glee on his brother’s face is causing Jiyong pause. That prophecy, he cannot have been wrong about it. He is so close to being victorious, but he is frozen and immobile, as that wicked laugh wraps its tendrils around him, binding him.
“What now, Azazel?” Yunho’s tone is viciously mocking, enjoying the predicament his brother is in. Never underestimate the Master of the Underworld.
But Jiyong cannot respond, his tongue is heavy in his mouth, and even if he can project his thoughts, vocalising them in that matter, he still cannot. The beautiful voice of his brother is insidious, the velvet sound slipping and sliding over his body, and even as he shivers at the intoxicating touch, remembering their shared incestuous past, he fears it even more. He has always jumped headlong into things, never sitting back and contemplating all the possibilities. Not like his brother. When will he ever learn?
“Now, brother. Watch and learn, though really, there is no point in it for you anymore. Your recklessness will be your downfall.”
Yunho’s mouth twists into a cruel smirk as he stares down his paralysed brother. He can feel the fear rolling off the demon, as it should. Everything is as it should be, this being a mere hiccup. A hiccup he could have done without, but all is not lost when he can send a message through this pathetic attempt at undermining him.
“Jaejoong, come to me.”
The voice is a soft whisper, a caress, carried by the dark mist from the supernatural lips that utter them. Everything suddenly stills, the hail frozen in mid-air, the wind dying down into nothing, forked lightning strikes the earth and stays in place, connecting the land to the skies in a drastic display of beauty and power. The world is silent, as if holding its breath and waiting.
And then Jiyong hears it. Soft footsteps padding through the house behind him. The footsteps of a human, his existence of flesh and bone is so inconesequential, yet those footsteps are resounding in his head like a gong. Getting louder and louder as it nears and he screams internally in agony as they get closer. Each step is like a nail on his proverbial coffin. How is this possible? The boy is human. He is nothing. But yet there it is, the supernatural energy carrying those footsteps towards him. He knows it is not Yunho’s doing though. The taste of the energy is different.
The air around Yunho shimmers with each step. The silence is absolute except for those footsteps, and the vibrations they cause in the energy field pulsating in silence around the Devil. His expression is predatory, the ultimate seducer as he waits for his bride to come to him.
Jiyong suddenly feels a presence behind him, and he cowers within himself at the purity that is coming from it. That purity that is hurting him by its very presence. The purity that is the absolute counter to his brother, and yet, not. He cannot understand it. He feels the boy move past him, and the brush of that pure soul against his own damned existence would have sent him to his knees had he not been bound in silence and paralysis by his brother. How can Lucifer stand to be near this human?
He watches in forced silence, even as his mind screams out from the torment of that brief brush against him. The boy is naked, his skin is almost glowing as he walks towards his brother.
Yunho stares at the nude figure of his bride as he approaches, feeling that energy coming from him, feeling as it pushes against his own energy. Pushing and pushing and pushing, until suddenly it breaks through, eliciting a growl from him as their auras merge. His black against his bride’s white. The world suddenly exhales out of its stasis at the destructive sound from the Devil, and the calamitous breath breaks the dam holding the elements back and suddenly everything is chaos. The wind roars its protest, the sky weeps its despair, the thunder shouts its horror, and the earth pulsates in fear as the Devil and his bride join hands, at the exact moment the grandfather clock in the house strikes midnight.
Jiyong knows he is lost as the boy takes the hand of his brother, and turns toward him. His countenance is angelic, if not for the pools of black that are now his eyes, identical to Lucifer. Deep, dark, glittering jewels of pure ebony stare unseeing out at him, a beatific smile splitting his face as he looks over at him. He watches in mute horror as the boy raises his other arm, pointing it at him.
The screech that rends the air as the demon disappears in a bolt of lightning echoes across the globe, and yet again, all the mystics who are sensitive to the supernatural occurrences in their world fall to their knees, clawing at their eyes in despair, clutching and squeezing their eyeballs in their fists as they scream from the pain of the joining, a far more agonizing pain than the physical agony of their maiming, as the Devil claims his bride. A bride who is fulfilling the prophecy.
He has found his Destiny, and the Universe is indeed His for the taking.
At the obliteration of his brother, whom he knows is not dead, just gone for now, Yunho blinks. In that instance, they are suddenly in a dark room, a wall of flames on one side, and endless darkness on the other three sides. Each wall represents each realm that he claims dominion over. Hell is the flames, and the endless darkness of the other three; the world of humans, the world in between earth and the underworld that is filled with many lesser beings such as ghosts and djinn, and finally, the Underworld itself. It is separate from Hell, something not many are actually aware of. It is the land of Limbo.
In the middle of this room is a giant bed, sheets of crimson, and Lucifer walks hand in hand with his bride towards it. It is time for the chosen one to know his Destiny. A coupling on earth masks him from the human, but a coupling here will finally reveal him to the boy. And it will remain so, no matter where they mate again in any of the four realms. This will be the ultimate deflowering. The cursed one.
He feels something for the human. In the eons and millennia of his existence, he has never felt for anything. But he feels something now. He writes it off as Destiny waving its arbitrary hand, unaware of exactly how powerful his bride will become. Jaejoong is the subject of the first prophecy. Yunho is his Destiny, not the other way round as the Devil presumes.
They lay out over the bed, the clothes on Yunho’s earthly form evaporating into nothing again as he claims the mouth of his bride. The boy clutches at him tightly, fingernails digging into his skin and he surprisingly feels the sting, as their mouths slant hotly over each other’s over and over and over again. Their tongues tangling in a mutual dance for pleasure. Yunho believes himself in control as he takes what the mortal gives him, but they are equals in that room. Destiny has made it so.
Jaejoong clings to the man his soul recognises, even though he will wake up the next morning thinking this is all a dream, not realising exactly how real this coupling is. But right now, nothing else matters except the man laying between his thighs, as he wraps his legs around his torso, hands raking up and down the broad back of the being pressing him down into the bed. He bites harshly at that full bottom lip that teases him each night as they stroke paths all over his body, satisfied by the guttural growl it elicits as he licks and sucks at the swollen lip in apology, but not really. Something has exploded within him, and he wants to be taken hard, and so he pushes for it, nipping roughly at the tongue invading his mouth, tasting blood. He offers his own tongue in supplication, groaning at the pin pricks of pain he feels as he is bitten back in return. Tiny drops of their blood intermingle on their tongues, as they take their fill of each other, eternal mates.
Yunho rips his mouth from the boy, sitting back between Jaejoong’s parted thighs, tasting his own blood, his hand reaching up to touch his mouth, drawing it away and seeing the crimson taint on his finger. He stares down at the boy, whose breath is coming in heaving pants as if he has been running a marathon, eyes as dark as midnight, a decidedly uncharacteristic smirk on his lips as he stares back up at him. He drags his finger down, from a sharp collarbone, over that pale skin, over a pink pert nipple, painting that white skin red as his long finger keeps going. Over the planes of his abdominal muscles, each pass over a ridge causing the boy’s belly to contract reflexively, and still he keeps going, wanting to paint the boy with their blood. He circles his belly button, watching in amusement as Jaejoong sucks in a lungful of air, his body hypersensitive, before he travels down, the last of the crimson liquid upon his finger drawing an upside down cross on the underside of the boy’s cock. Watching as the symbol flares red, and then darkens to black, imprinting itself into his stretched skin.
His mouth forms a cruel smile, seeing the mark forever branding the chosen one as his and his alone, as he flips the boy roughly onto his belly, yanking his hips up to his mouth as he bends his head and takes a heavy lick of the hanging balls. The moan Jaejoong lets out is long and low, as Yunho suckles on his balls, not shielding his teeth at all from the soft flesh, delighting in the low groans of pain the boy is making as he tries to get away from the tormenting mouth. He grips his bride’s hips tightly, keeping him still as he continues his wicked torture over that delicate part, rolling the sacs in his mouth as he licks and nips, enjoying the burst of musk that exudes from the boy as the pain turns him on even more. His nose is wet from the detailed attention he is giving the boy, and he finally pulls off with a loud smacking sound, sucking as hard as he can, while pulling his head back and then letting go. The boy is a whimpering mess, even as he tries to buck his hips backwards, wanting more.
“Who do you belong to?”
Yunho’s voice is a ferocious demand, not wanting to give Jaejoong anything more before he vocalises his submission.
Jaejoong’s reply is quick, no hesitance whatsoever as he pushes his hips back again, whining and begging with inhuman sounds from his throat for more. His need to be taken harshly is clawing within his insides, the blood within his veins exploding in a veritable tornado of want when he feels a hot mouth close over the entrance to his body and he screams into the pillow. He is shameless as he mouth demands more from the man currently laving at his twitching hole, and he groans his satisfaction when he feels himself breached forcefully by a dextrous tongue. His eyes clench shut as his fists the sheets, feeling himself being stretched as Yunho palms his ass cheeks, spreading them apart as he slips two fingertips on either side of the glistening pink hole, damp because of his tongue, black liquid seeping out of the tips of those fingers again as he works to prepare the boy for his defiling.
The boy’s opening is so tight, the ring of muscle clamping down hard around the four fingers playing about his entrance. Yunho eases his fingers in even as he licks a path up and down Jaejoong’s perineum in the meantime, baring his teeth and running it along that sensitive piece of skin, feeling the boy shudder beneath him. He spreads the black liquid around the opening, even as he plunges four fingers into the boy, two on either side, buried up to the first knuckle, chuckling wickedly as the boy screams his pain. However, clearly Jaejoong isn’t dissuaded by the rough intrusion, because even as he screams, his hips rock backwards, wanting more. And more he gets as Yunho once again places his mouth over that opening, now tainted by black liquid dripping down to his balls, delving his tongue between his fingers and licking in and around the clenching opening. The force of the boy’s muscles against his fingers is strong, but he spreads his fingers apart, slowly but surely as he tastes the musky arousal of the boy coupled with the sweet black liquid and he fucks the boy hard with his mouth and fingers, his tongue lengthening unnaturally within the boy’s hot tight passage, flicking across his prostate, stabbing at it even has he pulls the boy apart a little more.
Jaejoong is being torn apart from inside out, and still he wants more. There is so much pleasure in the pain, he doesn’t even recognise himself anymore. He doesn’t know who he is, as he screams his need to be fucked hard. Each pass of the man’s tongue sends him rocking forward, wanting to get away and yet not. The pillow he is face down on is damp with his saliva, unable to stop the glands from overworking as he pants open mouthed over the silk-like cover. His eyes are still tightly shut and he can barely hold himself up, his whole body trembling and stuttering as his prostate is abused so thoroughly. He wants to come, but he cannot. Something is holding his orgasm back, and it feels as if he is wearing a cock ring of the worst kind, one with spikes on the inner ring, digging sharply into the base of his cock, its vice-like grip preventing relief. But he even as he screams in his desperate need to come, he doesn’t want to. He wants the torment to continue. The feelings are sending delicious waves of hot lava-like streams of pain and pleasure through him, the likes of which he has never experienced before as he rubs his face back and forth over the damp cover of the pillow, smelling his arousal as his cock leaks profusely onto the bed.
Yunho finally lifts his head from the tasty opening, sitting up on his knees, his cock heavy and distended as it nudges against the boy. The answering wail as he brushes against the abused hole results in a smirk from the Devil, as he strokes his hands up the boy’s pale back almost soothingly.
The boy lifts his head at the sound of his name, turning around to look over his shoulder, eyes almost blind in lust as he stares at the supernatural being about to turn the Universe on its head with their joining. He licks at his lips as they stare at each other, his body thrumming in anticipation.
“Who am I?”
Yet again, there is no hesitance as Jaejoong’s mouth forms the word that Destiny has put into it. All four realms weep in fear at the unknown as he replies to the Devil’s question.
Yunho can feel the shift in the cosmos as he snaps his hips forward, filling the boy in one long thrust, satisfied at the scream that falls forth from that beautiful mouth. The melody is haunting, it is his song, as he fucks the boy hard, harder than he ever has, tearing him apart from within, as his hips snap cruelly, over and over into the waiting body that draws him in more and more with every thrust. He feels like he is falling within that hot tight mortal vessel and to counter it he leans forward to wrap a large hand around the boy’s throat, pulling him up harshly. Jaejoong curves backwards almost unnaturally, the Devil keeping his hand tight against his throat, till his chest meets the boy’s back. Jaejoong turns blindly towards him, mouth seeking its mate, and they lips meet.
Yunho keeps his head in place, his grip around the boy’s throat remains unrelenting as he pounds into his body, each slap of their skin jerking at the boy, almost dislodging their mouths, but it never happens. The opposite wall suddenly blurs from endless night, into a mirror, Yunho staring at himself fucking the beautiful teenager with a baleful eye, before pulling his mouth away and jerking Jaejoong’s face roughly to face his reflection. The watches as the boy’s eyes open, the inky black pools of darkness are glowing, shining as they both near their portended orgasms. The smile that teases at his lips is identical to the one on Lucifer’s face as they stare at each other.
The brutal despoiling is almost at an end, their eyes never leaving each other, as Yunho drags his gaze down to the heavy bobbing cock of the teenager. He smirks, the expression once again mimicked by his bride, as he looks into his eyes again, even as he turns his head towards an elfin ear, so delicate and beautiful, licking at it, allowing his tongue to fork as it dances around the ear, as he commands the boy.
“Come for me.”
And like a burst dam, Jaejoong explodes with a scream that shakes his world, that shakes earth, painting the crimson sheets with white hot cum, even as he himself is filled with demon seed of the blackest kind. Seed that searches within him to mate with his purity. Unbeknownst to both the Devil and his bride, the second prophecy is now fulfilled as well.
When the pure is tainted by the cloven one, so shall he split into two and balance will be restored.
AN: You can blame Yunho for all the smut I’ve written this week. I apologise if any of you are reading all three fics that contain the smut and find it repetitive…