#I'm even more pumped to see the Fire Nation and see the family in action now

[justfirelordizumithings]

[neoculturetechxgot7]

Gardenia on the crown - J.J.H

1; arranged weddings

pairing: Jung Jaehyun × Reader

genre: angst

length: around 1k?

warnings: none yet

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Your hand starts to sweat uncomfortably, caged firmly in your father's grip, as the sight of large ebony gates discourages your racing heart. You don't want to continue any further, don't want to stroll across the so-called 'great ballroom' and face your bitter, black coated destiny that's awaiting on the other side. An almost unbearable weight inside your chest causes every small step to be heavier, the clanking of heels against marble tiles and the shuffling of your skirts echoing mockingly.

Biting down on your tongue to refrain from rolling back into ominous thoughts, you try to give yourself hope by holding onto the one thing keeping you from running outside, to your escort, and riding a horse back to your real home: Duty.

It is your duty to bare the name of your family with pride and righteousness, to ensure that the royal blood pumping through your veins will remain pure and the grace of your ancestors will be passed down to the next generation.

But easier said than done...

Turning to spare a single glance at your father, the man who made you what you are today with undying affection and unconditional love, it's impossible not to gain back the confidence that holds your posture straight. You have to follow his orders and trust his judgement without doubting even a single decision, just as you promised. You owe him this much...

So, inhaling the smell of lavender and rose that swirls around early morning sunrays to adorn the entire palace, you make a silent oath to yourself to fulfill your duty with courage and marry Jung Jaehyun.

The wooden barrier between you and your future husband flies open within moments, accompanied by the screeching voice of a herald announcing your noble presence, right after your father.

"Her Highness, princess..." The rest doesn't make it to catch your attention as it's all gathered to the man ahead of you, sitting on his throne with a gaze sharper than his sword and all the arrogance of a true king written across his shadowed features. Golden rings and red velvet and precious jewels establish his title of dominance and you swallow a lump suffocating your thoat upon laying eyes on him.

He scares you.

But thankfully not enough to tear down your own intimidating facade as you bow in respect after entering the spacious ballroom, golden ruffles of the dress pinched between your fingers. You manage to catch a good glimpse of your surroundings, the walls luxuriously painted with poetic scenery and the glass dome allowing a limitless amount of sun's illuminating kisses to penetrate it.

And then you're met with pure ice that cuts goosebumps under your skin and makes your legs weaken once you rise up, looking eyes with the devil deemed to wreck hell in your life.

The prince.

The paleness of his face is masked with the most stoic expression you've ever seen -and you've met a ton of cocky bastards, truth be told- as he scans your body, taking in the image without the slightest reaction. You feel coldness prickle at your limps, wanting nothing more than to turn around and never see that man again.

Let alone marry him and carry his children.

Sinking deeper in your thoughts, you fail to listen your father prodding you to walk until a wrinkly hand reaches behind your back with a steady press. You haven't taken your attention off of Jaehyun when you're pushed, losing balance and stumbling slightly, a rosy shade appearing on your cheeks at this unwanted clumsiness.

Even so, you stand back straight and chin up, as your mother taught you, and make a graceful walk towards the two royals on the marble riser, but not before noticing the ghost of a smirk momentarily tug on the prince's lips. Then again, it's probably your imagination because his face turns stern and unreadable a moment later.

On the other hand, the king has already risen up and is now exchanging formal greetings with your father, shaking hands and sharing bold smiles.

"It's delightful to finally see you, my Lady." He turns to you, bowing slightly as you mirror the action.

His voice is rougher than sandstone as he continues, so unpleasant to the ear, and you prefer not to talk but simply smile, too overwhelmed to form a single sentence in response. You know he was the one that had offered the chance of this marriage to your father, secretly of course, in hopes of forming the strongest alliance between your two neighbouring kingdoms and it makes some kind of hatred boil in your head.

Still, since your parents chose this path for you, knowing it would ensure the future of your nation, you could never dare complain or speak against their will. It is duty.

"And this is my beloved son, Jaehyun." The king exclaims with an unconcealed hint of pride, a hand patting his son's shoulder.

You stay petrified, unable to breathe or blink as the endless brown ocean of Jaehyun's eyes darkens upon you, as if your form alone twirls blue storms inside them. There is nothing separating you anymore, no distance, no pair of ebony doors and you are fully exposed in front of the man you're bound to be with, suddenly feeling so unsafe.

You search his face for any sign of kindness and find it absolutely blank.

But... truly though, he is mesmerising.

Milky skin brushed with a godly silver shimmer that molds into sunshine, plush petal lips and high cheekbones. His hair are a faded shade of auburn and strawberry blonde, a few strands falling softly to frame his forehead in the most flattering way.

As scary and emotionless as he seems, your future husband is heavenly handsome and maybe, in another universe far from this one, you might have looked at him as more than just a forced fate.

His cough pulls you out of the starstruck state, and you realise that, for the second time in time span of a couple of minutes, he has gotten you distracted. Jaehyun's gaze promptly drops to your palms folded over your stomach and suddenly your manners kick in leading you to extend one towards him.

His fingers find a nest under your own gently as he brings them up politely to leave a searing peck on your knuckles. You are expecting your skin to freeze under the contact but...surprisingly enough, a comforting warmth lingers where his lips graze, as if they leave a little fire behind, sending shivers down your spine.

"It's my pleasure, my Lady." He speaks with a voice of silk and honey, low yet so soft, a strong contrast to his image and the sweet lie dripping from his tongue. Jaehyun finds, quite obviously, no pleasure in seeing you.

"The pleasure it's all mine, your Highness." You reply with another quick dip of your knees.

He peels his eyes off of you with ease, unlike yourself who's having trouble not staring even though his presence brings you a feeling of vulnerability. Jaehyun faces his father, waiting for the next stage of this awkward acquaintance.

"Well then, I'm sure you're intrigued to explore the rest of our palace,"

'Hell, I'm not.' you're intrigued to say but nod instead, as it's nowhere near your place to talk back to a king.

"so let's head to the gardens first. I was informed our little princess has a big heart for nature." His pretentious tone annoys you to no end.

"And who may have told you that?" Those are the first sugary words escaping your mouth, even though they mean nothing since the answer is standing right by your side.

Your darling dad, of course. He and the king held a frequent trade of letters, as any two future allies would, so he probably let it slip that you like flowers.

Only that, you like -or better say adore- the flowers your mother has grown with thoughtfulness and care to decorate your own palace and their scent had seeped into your blood ever since you were a child. The pity excuse of plants you're about to visit can never compare to those beauties back home, they coan never replace them. You're sure of it.

The king gestures behind you and lead the way with a hasty pace, both you and your father simultaneously turning around to follow.

And then you feel Jaehyun's glare poke a hole through your back before wide steps bring him right next to you, his suffocating aura drowning you in a wave of dizziness.

Jung Jaehyun is your duty and he will ruin your life.

[the-lady-frost]

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13365838/1/No-Hope-Left

Chapter One: Guilty Until Proven Innocent

-March, 13th - 2009 -

The heavy panting was too close to her ear. She couldn't turn her head. She couldn't turn her mouth. She couldn't turn away.

The panting was deafening.

If she could just move a finger, just one, she could reach the knife on the table less than a foot to her right. Her eyes stared forward, at it, frozen there as the panting in her head was nearly cacophonous. Lift your hand - grab the knife - end the pain.

But her hand wasn't her own.

And then? Then it was.

She grabbed it in her fist. She swung it up. There was a shout of horror. Someone started screaming. An alarm began to blare. But she was free.

She rolled to the floor splashed with blood. She ran for the door as the sound of the panting came from her own lungs. She just had to get there. She just had to getaway. She was free. She was ready.

She was still alive.

She hit the hallway in a skid. Her feet slapped painfully loud on the bare metal floor. Her lungs sobbed with every breath. The knife in her hand was dripping. The world flashed red and white and red and white.

But the elevator pinged as she struck the button. She just had to get out...get out...GET OUT.

The doors whooshed open. The face in the bright white light wasn't wearing glasses. She lifted the knife, she screamed, "MOVE! DO YOU HEAR ME!? MOVE!"

And the light flickered as the face in its explosive depths was familiar. Familiar...family. "...Jill..." He didn't touch her. He didn't have to. She felt the knife fall to the ground with a clatter.

She collapsed to her knees on the ground. The feet were rushing toward her. She looked up at him desperately and lifted her bloody hands, "Chris...don't...don't let them take me...please..."

He looked so broken. He put a hand down to her and Jill felt the stabbing in her back. The shocks hit her system and she started to convulse as Chris roared, "NO! NO! She's not a fucking threat! LEAVE HER ALONE!"

"She killed that orderly! RESTRAIN HER!"

She went to her side on the floor. The stun gun kept sending sparks into her body. Above her, the man told Chris, "Captain...she's not in there anymore. Whatever he did to her, she's a monster now."

"...no."

"I think you need to accept that Jill Valentine died in Africa."

She didn't. She hadn't. She was right here.

"Whatever you brought back isn't your partner anymore."

She was. Don't give up on me.

The dark slid over her vision and took away Chris' desperate face.

-June, 8th 2009-

B.S.A.A. Holding Facility - Washington D.C.

She was handcuffed to a single link on a big table. They were reading her crimes back to her. Her "crimes" as if she were a terrorist being brought up on charges. Her heart shivered.

"Jill Valentine, formerly First Lieutenant Jill Valentine of the B.S.A.A. Field Operations Division, you are here today to answer for your actions against the state. You are being tried under the Patriot Act, guaranteeing that you revoke your American Citizenship and all rights held within if these charges heretofore mentioned are upheld in a court of law. On the night of Mar-"

Jill laughed, harshly, "The Patriot Act!? I'm not a fucking terrorist."

The faces around the table were silent, dark, and judging. She looked for one friendly one in the bunch. None. No one. Was she alone? She'd spent months in isolation with barely a face but her own.

What was this now? Charges? Crimes? She'd had no CONTROL.

They started listing the things she'd done that they knew of under Wesker. They rattled them at her like it was nothing - as if they hadn't been trapped in her body forced into action by a madman -like they hadn't woken in the night and tried like hell to escape him. They didn't care.

And they didn't believe.

She tried again, "You're not listening. Listen to me - I was aware, but I wasn't able to control myself. He pumped me full of that compound, that fucking P-30. Test it, you'll see what I mean. He meant for it to make me a slave."

And the voice answered, "There were no samples left. What there was, was eradicated along with the plane that went down in the volcano. A convenient end for a madman, wouldn't you say, Ms. Valentine? A curious thing to know you directed it there."

Wait.

WAIT.

What were they implying?

"Hold on...I did that because Uroboros is sensitive to FIRE. I knew Chris had no chance without limiting Wesker's conversion. I had to. He knows that. Bring him in. He knew what I was doing."

"We've discussed this all with Captain Redfield. His oral report is on file. We're aware of his version of events."

His version.

Whose version were they using here?

Captain Redfield - they wanted her to know he was no longer her partner. He was her superior.

"Agent Alomar was unclear on her side. She made references to concern over your loyalty. She seemed unconvinced of your intentions. She suggested that if you knew about the fire limiting Wesker, why you simply didn't burn him at your own behest when not under the control of the drug."

Sheva Alomar.

Apparently, she didn't trust Jill either.

Not that Jill could blame her. Honestly, if someone had crashed her plane into a volcano, she'd have been unlikely to trust them again either. Honestly, it sounded retarded to hear it in her own ears. A volcano? If they only knew what she'd gone through to discover its whereabouts to begin with.

"I wasn't in collaboration with Albert Wesker."

There. Did they need her to say it aloud?

The voice returned, "Ms. Valentine, you were his accomplice for three years. You never escaped. There was no evidence in the compound of his that we raided that you'd ever even tried. You were found through leaked information that brought the BSAA to Kijuju to hunt down Ricardo Irving. The data was buried for years. Then? One day it just pops up. Poof. Like someone had planted it."

They thought she'd come back to spy for Wesker. They thought she was a sleeper agent.

They thought she was a bad guy.

Terrified of what that meant, Jill tried once more, "I was his captive! I was his slave! I was in a tank for half the time and in his control the other! I couldn't escape! I couldn't even take a shit without his command!"

There was murmuring around her. It went on until the voice said, "We are divided on our ability to rule one way or the other in this matter, Ms. Valentine. Until a ruling can be made, Captain Redfield has petitioned us for clemency."

Clemency?

Like she was on death row here?

Their faces said she was indeed.

The doors to the chamber opened and spilled light in. The face of the man speaking was familiar. Who was it? He spoke again into the quiet, "It would appear you have a guardian angel on your side, after all. The committee was inclined to place you in confinement at Rikers Island until your arraignment, but the Director of the DSO has convinced us to allow you to be placed under house arrest with a guardian barring completion of time in service."

Time in service?

Aloud, she wondered, "What the hell does that even mean?"

"Ms. Valentine - you are no longer a lieutenant in the BSAA. You are now the property of the United States Government. From this moment on, you will operate at the behest of your guardian in completing a required amount of service to your nation to atone for your crimes against her. If you refuse, you will be placed before the Supreme Court and tried with treason."

Treason.

Treason because she'd gone out a window to take down a madman and save her partner's life. Treason - for doing her goddamn job.

"The punishable offense for treason is death by lethal injection."

Jill felt her guts turn cold with lead. "I don't understand what you're saying here. Who requested I be detained with a guardian?"

"Captain Redfield. He's the only reason you're not on death row at the moment, Ms. Valentine. I would be grateful."

Grateful. He'd made her a ward of the state. She'd been one once, as a girl, she'd grown up in foster homes at the behest of her government. It was like being a child again and knowing you had no control. She'd spent the last three years without any control of herself. It would seem she was to be that way again. Her life - always in the hands of someone else. She was never, it seemed, destined to be free.

"You will be watched, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. You will have no privacy, no leniency, and no rights. The Patriot Act reduces your wants and needs to negligible, Ms. Valentine, until further stated ...you are the property of the Department of Security Operations."

Her mouth felt like she'd been licking sand it was so dry, "What fucking idiot agreed to be my guardian?"

Out of the shadows, she got her answer.

She couldn't make out a single face of the assholes in the dark condemning her...but she could clearly see the face of Leon Kennedy.

Aloud, she cursed, "Oh, fuck you."

And all he did was laugh, "You have to buy me dinner first."

She hated him.

The car hummed like a jungle cat. Sleek, purring, and hugging turns with a predator's deadly grace. Cuffed to the dashboard, Jill watched the scenery race by as they left the city behind.

She didn't know where he was going. At this point, it didn't even matter. It could be the seventh rung of Hell and it would be the same. She said nothing as he handled the roads with a master's precision.

She'd heard somewhere he was a shitty driver. You couldn't prove it by the way he handled the Jaguar they were in.

Kennedy. She was his captive now it seemed. Like a prize that no one wanted, she was forced into his custody to be babysat until she'd proved herself. First a slave, now a prisoner. Her eyes watched the sun tickle down the horizon to head toward evening.

The collar at her throat beeped once to signal it was active. Like a fucking dog. As he'd secured it around her, Kennedy had said, "It's got a timer on it, Jill. If you go too far for too long, it will put you down."

Her brows had shot up, "Kill me?"

She saw the look on his face. The look that wanted to get smart with her about it, but he'd replied, "No. It will incapacitate you until you can be collected."

Collected.

Like a sample.

When he'd shifted the tail of her hair off her nape to snap it shut, she'd spat, "Enjoying yourself?"

Honestly, he couldn't blame her for the ire. She'd been naked. It was the way it was done in holding like that. She was stripped down, hosed off, thoroughly inspected by guards, and left naked during the placement of her containment device.

Her time with Wesker had left her in supreme physical condition. She looked like she could snap your neck without breaking a sweat. He'd arched a brow at her, "Sure. I love playing babysitter to a pissed off potential traitor."

She'd cocked her head, "No? I heard groping traitors was a favorite past time of yours."

Interesting. She knew about Ada. He'd felt his mouth twitch. "Not lately." As he'd turned away, the female guards stepped up to dress her again. She was cuffed and handed to him like a dog on a leash.

No one in their right mind would have agreed to what he was doing, but him. Of course, no one said he was in his right mind. Chris had asked. He'd said yes. The entire conversation was better left for another day...but it was done.

Karma would surely reward him for his good deed.

Surely.

The Jaguar rolled into the underground parking lot he guided it toward. He was curious about Jill's hyper-awareness. She was mapping in her head. He knew it, he did it himself, she was remembering everything.

Most likely, it was so she would know how to escape. Why? To reunite with her people?

He wasn't sure what he thought about her potentially playing to the other side. He understood the caution. She'd told a pretty tall tale so far about her captivity. First to survive the fall and not be crippled was impossible. It just was.

According to her report, she'd been in cryostasis recovering from massive internal injuries. During that time, Wesker discovered she'd had latent evidence of the T-Virus dormant in her body from her infection via the Nemesis in Raccoon City. The fall had killed her, officially, and the T-Virus wasn't wiped out by the prototype vaccine she'd received - it had just gone to sleep. It activated to save her life.

By trying to save Chris Redfield and sacrificing herself, she'd handed Albert Wesker the perfect weapon - the rare one percent of the population that was immune to the Tyrant Virus. It was the last piece he'd needed to finish his prototype for Uroboros. Jill was responsible for its final form. She was the key to its creation.

After its creation, why keep her alive?

He'd had what he wanted from her. Why spare her life?

But he had. He'd made her his handmaiden. He'd outfitted her with a device that Redfield had removed in the field and was never recovered. Without the device, they couldn't verify it had been used to control her via the alleged P-30 she spoke about.

The speculation from Redfield was that Wesker had kept her alive to torment him and revenge himself on her. It made sense, in a perverse way, but it was also vaguely narcissistic to assume the global aspirations of a megalomaniac had anything to do with a single former member of his failed S.T.A.R.S. unit.

It was more likely Jill Valentine had always been his disciple. A follower of Wesker to the point of being a sleeper agent when he knew his plan to use Uroboros might fail. He'd sent her back with Redfield to infiltrate the government and destroy it from the inside.

That was the thought here.

Leon wasn't sure what he thought. He was never inclined to agree with the majority because so often they were wrong with their assumptions.

He only knew that keeping her under constant surveillance was the only way to make sure she was just another victim of a horrible master of destruction. If she was innocent, she'd benefit from a slow reintroduction into society. Her adjustment to life outside had been traumatic. She'd responded like victim suffering from massive PTSD, but that happened with Stockholm Syndrome as well. She was possibly mourning the death of her master.

In this case, Leon was the best case. He had no family. He had no friends. He had no live in lovers or ties to the community. He was all work and no play. He was the Director of the newly formed bioterror response unit within the DSO. That meant tons of paperwork and prep work before missions, so he was often out of the field while he built the unit from the ground up.

If Jill was innocent, she'd make a helluva an addition to that unit. What was clear? She was done with the BSAA. She was no longer trusted in the organization. She'd been removed from duty, disavowed from the field, and taken out of play as an asset. Her only hope now was to find a place in the DSO with Leon's recommendation and that came with proving herself in his custody.

Sadly, it wasn't going to be a comfortable fit for either of them.

Valentine was an asshole.

There was no getting around it.

She'd taunted him, nagged at him, needled and poked at him to try to get him to snap before they'd left the facility. She'd called him names, suggested he'd slept his way to the top based on his looks, and remarked about his drinking. She'd read his file, clearly, so she knew what buttons were sharp and raw on him.

Now, she muttered, "Don't wreck, hotshot, because I promise you I won't pull you from the fire."

He laughed and steered the car into a private enclosed parking garage. A metal door lowered to seal them in as he killed the engine and stepped out. Two guards were waiting to help escort her to the elevator that would take her to his floor.

She said nothing again until he let her into his apartment. The whole top floor was his. Having a father who was a senator and a job at the right hand of the most powerful man in the world paid well. The old man was a waste of space as a parent, but he'd pulled the right strings to get Leon into a place to make a difference. It was the only thing he'd ever be grateful for.

Jill was quiet as she stood in the wide-open beauty of his massive penthouse apartment. He walked through it like a lord of the manor. He didn't even seem to stop and care about the amazing gift that was each corner. She'd never understood the kind of money and power that came with the blase acceptance of massive wealth.

His apartment was floor to ceiling windows on one side that opened to an incredible balcony. The view was the twilight magnificence of the New York skyline. The Empire State Building glistened like a Christmas tree. She watched a helicopter circle and land on a rooftop. She watched clouds filter over the ball of blazing beauty that was the sun starting to turn pink and red in the swirling sky.

Without thinking, she exhaled a heavy breath and remarked, "...fucking incredible."

Leon paused, brows arched, and glanced at the view. He couldn't remember the last time he'd bothered to notice it. He looked at it now as someone who might have been underground in a cement cell for years. He glanced at her face and the push of purplish light over her delicate features.

If she was acting awed and relieved, she was doing a damn fine job.

Softly, he returned, "Yeah. It's what they call a million-dollar view."

"Take it for granted, do ya?"

Surprised, he realized he did. He had, for quite some time. He started to say something and she added, "Nevermind. It's not like I care."

No Hope Left