#jreau

[hotmessv]

A game JJ is always winning. /// Victoria & Jennifer /// @j-reau

[fatalelity]

there was a feeling of unease that rose within the pits of her stomach. addison swallowed thickly as she took cautious steps down the faint streak of light that shined against her skin. she was still wearing her scrubs, a telltale sign of a long shift at the hospital. her heart was palpitating in her chest -- it was heavily advised against for a lone woman to walk down dangerous looking paths at night. still, that didn’t stop her -- then, her eyes widen in horror as she noticed the smudged trace of fresh blood against the wall. carefully, she followed the path. 

her eyes widen when she recognized the face. her mind blanked, her body was moving out of its own volition. addison crouched down and gingerly, she pressed her palm against the other’s face. she looked at her and her brows furrowed.  

“ what... what happened?”  her voice croaked from inutility. taking a deep breath, addison began assessing the situation at hand. 

@j-reau​ | inspo

[laebeled]

@j-reau​

❛ Absolutely not –– ❜ Her entire day was already a PR whirlwind; Clothes Over Bros D.C had been plastered all over the morning news, as she watched from the safety of her office building downtown, the events following a series of hostage situations around the city. She’d arrived to terrified employees, tens of thousands of dollars worth of property destroyed, and the FBI at her door not even ten minutes after she’d arrived at the scene –– and the agent, who had been quick at starting an interrogation she didn’t know she was emotionally prepared for, blinks rapidly at her sudden and abrupt change in demeanor. 

But she’d recognize that face anywhere and everywhere, sauntering through the broken glass door of her store with her hands in her pockets, and a shiny FBI badge to match. Brooke pushes past Agent Morgan, who hurries after her as she approaches a ten-years-older Jennifer Jareau with her finger pointed forward, her heels cracking the glass under the soles. ❛ I’ve already had a hell of a terrible day and I am not planning on letting the ghosts of my past kick me while I’m down. Nuh-uh. Go back to your... stupid, shiny SUV and put that badge away. ❜

[doctordonovan-a]

you wear the burden:   a charmed au

Send  ☁  for a moodboard of our muses!   /   selectively accepting   (  I know you didn’t send it but it was on my mind  )

feat.  @j-reau   ©

[dottirmikaelson]

@j-reau​ gets a book to read xoxo

Rebekah pulls her car up to the front of the manor and she can finally breathe. The structure is meant as a safe house for her family in the rural part outside of New Orleans, and for the weekend, she will have it all to herself, away from the murders and the feds and even her brother. Unfortunately that also includes being away from JJ, but the special agent certainly has her hands full with all three of the very things Rebekah wants a break from.

She wheels her suitcase inside once she unlocks the front door and immediately notices a slight breeze just before she closes and locks it behind her. Curious, she wanders inside until she finds an open window in the living room, then shuts it and flips the lock. It’s been a hot summer, so she chalks it up to her family wanting to air out the place while they’re not around. Though her father doesn’t visit his ‘bastard’ son’s piece of Mikaelson territory often, Kol comes through every couple of weeks and Elijah sometimes desires a break from the compound as well. As Rebekah moves through the house and brings her suitcase upstairs to her room, she entertains her thoughts with a fantasy about living in such a place permanently. Occasionally, Jennifer Jareau makes an imaginary appearance in her peaceful made-up world.

An hour passes, past when the sun has set, and she has her clothes folded and put away, save for the fresh underwear and large t-shirt that she slips into. Her intention is to get under the covers and watch TV for the remainder of the evening to shake off the feeling that something else needs her attention. She does so, and even starts drifting to sleep, but that concerning feeling never seems to go away.

She must’ve only been asleep for a few minutes when something– sounds like a vase– crashes and breaks downstairs. It’s like a bucket of ice water is spilled over her head and she leaps into action, getting to the wooden panel in the back of her closet in mere seconds. She removes a box and uncovers it to retrieve a pistol, clicks a full magazine in place, then as silently as she can, hurries back to her bedside to grab her phone and text the first person that her fear reaches for.

[ sms → jennifer jareau ] thers someone in th house

Her thumb fumbles over the words in all the adrenaline and she fights to enter the address of the manor correctly. When she’s sent the texts, she tosses her phone to her bed and leaves it up to fate. Pistol ready in hand, she ventures into the hallway.

She can’t help but get the feeling it’s a game of cat and mouse and that the crash was a way to lure her downstairs. Each corner she turns, she swears she catches a glimpse of the intruder. She rushes, gets sloppy, follows where her opponent wants her to and points her gun every which way until she focuses on the wrong one and the trap is triggered. She aims one way and the man throws an arm (attached to a gun) around her neck from behind. He rips her pistol from her grasp with his free hand and she hears it land somewhere. “What have you been telling the feds?” He growls in her ear with sticky, hot breath against her face. “I haven’t–”

He shoves her hard to the floor in front of the couch. When she lands, her blood boils for the fact that she’s only dressed in a t-shirt and underwear. No knife strapped to her thigh, no second pistol tucked in the waistband of her pants. She’s about as vulnerable as it gets. When she turns to glare at him, she suspects this must be an enforcer from a rival family, sent to quell the paranoia of his boss after Rebekah Mikaelson’s arrest. A part of her begs the universe to bring JJ to her as fast as humanly possible, and another part of her hopes that JJ never sees the text and remains safely distanced. The man points his gun at her and advances a few steps until he’s standing over her. “If you don’t start talking then I’ll force something out of you before silencing you for good. What have you been telling the feds?”

[viciousgold]

@j-reau​

It surprised her to see the blood dripping from JJ’s hand. It was her bodyguard’s day off, and somehow she had managed to injure her knuckles. Marisa showed immediate concern, stopping what she was doing to take a look at it.

“What happened?” Marisa asked worriedly, brows furrowed in a look of shock. “Here, let me get something for that.” She left without a moment to allow JJ to respond, going off to get her first aid kit. Her daemon remained behind, or as he was known in this world, her companion animal. Having a golden lion tamarin monkey was not common here, but she had to find a way for him to at least somewhat fit in here. He was fully registered and licensed as her official emotional support animal, without people realizing how truly close their bond was. A physical bond, for they were both two halves of the same person. It still was strange to her, how people of this world didn’t have themselves manifested in the form of a daemon, but from what she had seen so far, her world was the odd one out. In no other world did people have daemons, it seemed.

The golden monkey from his position on the sofa looked at JJ puzzledly, like Marisa, wondering how she could’ve damaged her knuckles so badly. An inquisitive squeak escaped him. 

His human soon returned with an ice pack, some gauze, and solution for cleaning the wounds. 

“Sit.” she told JJ, gesturing to the sofa where she sat next to her daemon. The monkey moved over to the arm of the sofa, out of her way.  “What happened?” she asked again, this time actually waiting for an answer. Her expression was gentle, kind and full of worry.

[asoulofstars]

@j-reau out here being the JJ of the rpc and bringing us together.

[murderousbitch]

SOME MEME I’M TOO LAZY TO FIND.

@j-reau​ asked: ❝ what are they ? ❞

                How many times had she been asked that question now? Far too many to count, but it was a common question. Not many people could put two and two together after being attacked by vampires, the shock of it all, confusion, and simply just not wanting to voice what they were. After all, they were supposed be a work of fiction. So when the question was asked, the slayer pocketed her stake and dusted her hands off as she looked to the blonde standing before her.

“Vampires,” she said with an even toned voice, hands moving to rest at her sides. “City is littered with them and hell...the whole world is too for that matter,” she added as she moved to take a step towards the other woman. “Just checkin’ for any wounds,” she explained, head tilting to have a better look at her neck. “Name’s Faith by the way, I’m a slayer...whole kill the big bad things like our friends,” she muttered, happy to not see any bite marks.

Taking a step back, she ran her fingers through her hair as she puffed her cheeks out. “Well,” she exhaled, “I’d get a cross, necklace or a ring works. Don’t matter if you’re the religious sorts or not...they don’t like the holy objects.”