resting witch face

@kennedytxllis / kennedytxllis.tumblr.com

Oh, some say, in life, you're gonna get what you give. But some things only God can forgive.
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The sharp snort that morphed into some semblance of a laugh as he grabbed for a shirt notwithstanding at her brash mock of magic. “Okay Sabrina, maybe knock next time. I could have been doing god knows what.. with god knows who in here and I’m not here for a woman scorned the sequel.” He lent down, hands propping himself up either side of her as he moved close enough to almost press his lips to hers, only to snag a handful of popcorn and grin instead. “Is that your way of making this sound like some boy toy fantasy of yours? Objectification is frowned upon you know. — What bullshit movie are we watching now?” 
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“A woman scorned? I hope you don’t think I’d be mildly upset about seeing that. You’re definitely nothing I haven’t seen before. And it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen a woman naked, either.” Kennedy waved her hand, though her smile remained, “You’re such a drama queen.” Pushing his jaw lightly, she turned to try and keep the popcorn out of his reach, “We’re watching World War Z with Brad Pitt because he’s hot. So shh.”
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@kennedytxllis
“Did I give you a key and just.. forget about it?” It seemed unlikely, but Hendrix already had little doubt that Kennedy would have found her way in any which way if she really needed it. “If I ever tell you to make yourself at home and find out that you’ve given yourself your own drawer or something, I hope you know you’re completely to blame for my moving house.”
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Kennedy rose an eyebrow, bowl of popcorn on her lap that she’d made in Hendrix’s kitchen, “It’s like...magic.” The Tallis smirked a little, having gotten comfortable on the hunter’s couch. She rolled her eyes, though her smile remained, “You’re so dramatic. I forgot how it was when you surround yourself with men who have yet to grow up. You going to sit down or what?”
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“I feel like the axe throwing is a bit too extreme for my liking.” Gale said aloud, watching the other contestants doing their hardest for the prize. Thing was, he could easily do it, but he’d rather have his palm read than act like a barbarian. “Might I accompany you to do an activity, My Lady/My Lord? I feel like I’ll grow roots standing here any longer.” 
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Too extreme? And here I thought all lords were just dying to show off their strength. You can lead me towards the drinking table, Lord Davenport. I need all the help I can get around here.” Putting her arm through his, she lifted up her empty goblet, “And I need something better than whatever it is I just drank.”

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“You know the price for your future, child. Don’t tell me you came here empty handed.” Kennedy’s little cabin was filled to the brim with stuff. Mainly charms, wind chimes made from bones – it was just how she liked to live, and she liked to make sure no one mistook her for a feeble woman. Her mutt was sleeping on the bed, and she motioned to the chair on the other side of the table. “Did you come for something specific?”

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“How the hell are we going to do that, Ken? We don’t know anything about them. Nothing, substantial that could actually help us anyway. We’re fighting an enemy we can’t see.”
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Kennedy picked up her mimosa, downing the rest of it, “Then we figure it out. We do this, and we end it. I will– I’ll...” she paused only for a moment, her idea of vengeance getting stuck in her throat. “We have to end it. No one in my family is going to get hurt if I’m around to say something about it.”
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The sharp hiss between grit teeth as she pinched at flesh through his shirt only ended with quick swat of his hand at her fingertips. “— If I wasn’t right you wouldn’t be picking on me like we were in fourth grade, Ken. The only one pushing their luck around here is you, you’re lucky I’m not really pissed at you for leaving in the first place.” He might have lingered in prolonged silence a little too long, mockingly drawing out the thought process of whether he’d ever seen her shy away from something. “I guess not, but I just don’t think you know when to give in.” Not always such a terrible thing, but detrimental when the losses were so great. “A dream come true, imagine Kennedy Tallis, determined to come to my rescue.”
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Kennedy huffed out a laugh, looking up at Hendrix again as they walked. “I always pick on you. It wouldn’t be me if I didn’t.” She pulled away only a little, instead wrapping her arm through his and holding onto it as they continued to walk. It was true – she didn’t know when to give in, nor did she ever want to. “I would come to your rescue. I’d burst through the doors to make my deserved dramatic entrance, and you’d thank me by picking me up and spinning me around. It’s just what always happens in all those great movies. Then you’d seal it with a kiss.”
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“How nice of you to notice,” he mused while following behind her without a second of contemplation. She was his target for the day, after all. With a hand fitted into the pocket of his trousers, Ares held the cup of coffee that was oddly satisfying to his taste buds. He supposed the Tallis’ had a knack for good taste. A soft hum sounded in the hollow of his throat as he listened along to her words, finding it ever amusing that she had a wedding planned with no fiance. “It is good to be prepared. Elevates the stress when the day finally arrives,” he agreed with a nod of his head, as if she’d been waiting for his answer all this time. When the conversation returned to him and his career description, Ares couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped past his lips, “Like whatever my client wants, that’s what I am. If they pay enough, I get them what they want.”
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“Oh no. There’s always stress. You probably have no current plans to get married, do you? Men are basically useless during the whole process. I have mainly brothers, so guess who’s going to be doing all the work for them? And my sister is just lucky to have me.” Kennedy waved her hand, finding it amusing they were now walking towards...wherever, at this point. “That’s not shady at all. You’re not doing a really good job of convincing me you’re not a serial killer or a thief.”

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                    “I’m not sure I trust you with him just yet,” he chided, obsidian hues coming to rake over flaxen countenance as if studying her for any sense of suspicion, “Next thing I’d know, you’d have kidnapped him into the Tallis mansion.” Grin remained cemented on the mien, brows risen in mock surprise at the slew of gifts that remained balanced between manicured fingertips, “Look — hold on to them and next time you guys can open them together,” Julian mocked as a sense of compromise, despite the fact Lucas was hardly at the age to garner any sense of wonder to the slew of gifts being tossed to him on a daily basis in his infancy. 
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“No, no. I want to make sure this baby has proper clothes for this New York weather. We’re going to open them together. Now come on. Open,” she waved her hand at Julian, leaning forward to press a quick kiss against his cheek in greeting before she sat down again. Kennedy  clasped her hands together, trying to hide her smile before she scooted forward to sit on the end of the couch, “So I got him all these really cute long sleeve outfits. Also, there were these tiny, cute little converse I just had to get him. And he has a jean jacket that I know is going to make him look fabulous. And I – ugh, I can’t believe he’s not here.”

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“You can save your dodgy excuses for someone who has time for them.” It certainly didn’t bother him that she’d left; made it easier, if anything. One less person to look for in the crumbling rubble of the city they inhabited. “Just so you know, next time you piss off like that, you’re ex communicated and officially on my shit list.” As affectionately as he could put it. As he felt her lean in, his hold around her shoulder tightened a little; protective as it were. “—- Better that you would have stayed away, a lot of people would be glad to know you were at least safe, Ken.” Lips pursed tightly and he shook his head, “I would have been.”
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“My dodgy excuses?” Kennedy pinched Hendrix again, making sure she grabbed his nipple this time. “You’re really pushing your luck, Hendrix,” she laughed, shaking her head. It was nice to finally relax, and she’d missed the man, anyway. “I know. But you ever seen me run away from anything?” she pressed, turning to rest her head against Hendrix as they walked. “At least if I’m here, I can protect you and all the other dumbass friends I have.”
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The lack of care to what she said or where she said it was amusing, to say the least. He could enjoy a woman who wasn’t afraid to say exactly what she wanted. “If you wanted to see it so badly, all you have to do is ask.” He countered with a teasing tone, lips set in a smirk that seemed permanent for this conversation. “You are getting married?” The question lifted one of his brows, her statement spurring on a sense of confusion. He’d surely done his research, and hadn’t seen anything that said the woman was set to be married. Drawing back to the question directed at him in the onslaught of words, Ares chuckled softly with a shake of his head, “I’m a collector. More so, I acquire hard to find items for others. I’m in New York to meet a new client.”
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“Bold, aren’t you? I can appreciate that.” Kennedy moved to walk out of the coffee shop, shrugging her shoulders as she sipped her coffee, “No, I’m not getting married. I just have my wedding planned. I’m a wedding planner, so it’s just...me being really, really prepared for my own wedding one day.” She rose an eyebrow, slightly curious as to what that meant. Kennedy didn’t want to outright as if he was a witch, but that sounded suspiciously like a job that’d be easy for the supernatural. “Oh really. Like...it belongs in a museum collector, or one of those shady black market ones?”

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reblogged

                   Happy International Women’s Month!

“Before the moon I am, what a woman is, a woman of power, a woman’s power, deeper than the roots of trees, deeper than the roots of islands, older than the Making, older than the moon.”                                                                                                                                                                                                              —Ursula K. Le Guin

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“Yeah, clearly. And nothing, you know, city’s gone to shit but why on earth would that cause a raincloud to follow me around?” He rolled his eyes, keeping up with Kennedy’s ever brisk pace, “it’s not like hundreds of people just died or something.” Of course, while it freaked Teddy out, the witch’s feelings and demeanor were caused by far more selfish reasons–– a recent encounter with a ghost from his past for one, and the fact that he felt more lost now than he had before. How did you forgive someone when you were the problematic piece of shit in their life and they did what any sane person would when faced with world-shattering news? But he wasn’t exactly about to tell that to Kennedy, not willingly and certainly not without several fucking drinks, if even that.
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“Do you really have to state the obvious? It’s not like I don’t know what happened on New Years, Theodore. Maybe I just wish someone would actually confide in me. I’m a good friend, and you’re a terrible one. Why am I helping you again?” Pulling open the door to his apartment complex, she followed the other witch inside. “You sure you’re okay before I hijack this recipe and make your mother disown you?”

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There was still something entirely unbelievable in watching the two glasses pass through the air without Kennedy even moving; something akin to watching her best friends skin healing over after he’d just sliced it open himself. Shock and… something unsettling that she couldn’t pinpoint. “Oh.. I’m still mad.” Far be it from her to keep her feelings to herself. “I’m ropeable. Here you are.. Sabrina the teenage witching it all these years while I deal with the most basic bitch issues as if they’re the end of the world.” Among other things. “Luckily enough, a year of radio silence is probably all the petty I’m granted.”
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“Ugh. Sabrina? Jeter would kill me if I got a cat,” she looked over at her little Bedlington Terrier who was snoozing on one of the chairs by the window. Waving her hand, Kennedy set her glass of wine down, “Listen, Cinda, sometimes it’s better not to know. But anyway, yeah, you don’t really get to be mad anymore since you decided to up and run off to God knows where. Where were you?”
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“You say that, but we both know deep down that you’re absolutely swooning over this accent and it alone.” He spoke idly, as if it were simply another casual experience for him, all the while smirking widely at the direction this conversation had gone. A brow perked smoothly, eyes drifting down to the cup of coffee within his hand, “It is certainly different than what I’ve had in France. Not as strong, but also not terrible.” His eyes snapped back up to her, an amused smile carving itself into place on his lips. She wanted to be his friend, how truly endearing. “Oh, and you are not like most New Yorkers, hm? I do believe I’ve struck gold then.”
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Swooning? You sure are full of yourself, aren’t you? Do you have a big dick and want everyone to show it?” He straightforward words caused some people – mainly the two old ladies near them – to turn and give looks of shock. “No, I am like most New Yorkers. I’m a bitch. So what do you do, then? You have a large inheritance that let you move out here, or a job offer you couldn’t resist? If you must know, I’m a wedding planner. And yes, I have everything set for my wedding already. It’s not weird, it’s just called being well planned.”

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“Was that an insult, or were you attempting to be slightly nicer to me? Has the accent started to grow on you?” He teased with the curve of a soft smirk, just enough to give her an idea that it was there. Lifting the coffee cup to his lips, he took a ginger sip as he contemplated what exactly to tell her. He was certain telling her he’d come to kill her brother wasn’t exactly the right course of action. Lowering the cup, he shrugged one of his shoulders, “I suppose I’ve come for the new experiences. I’d heard such things about the city, I figured it was time to see whether they were true or not.”
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“If that accent grows on me, make sure I’m not sick in the head. It has to be the worst one out there. No, actually, that’s probably German,” she rose an eyebrow, looking at the man for a few seconds. “Well, you’re getting a taste of New York through that coffee. Did you even like it? If you need a friend, well, fine. I guess I could be your friend. Most New Yorkers don’t give a shit. You’re welcome.”

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“I want everyone to stop walking around like we’re okay. As though, our friends aren’t being maimed and fucking killed,” she snapped, completely fed up. “They killed an Original, Kennedy. No one seems to really be taking in the fact that a terrorist group accomplished something that’s been impossible for over a thousand years.”
Kennedy reached out, taking Remi’s hand and giving it a squeeze, “I agree. I think we should take this fucking fight to them, otherwise they’re just going to steamroll us and then what? We sit around as more people die around us?”
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@lccxnda

Kennedy looked over at Lucinda, “So you’re not mad at me?” she pressed, using her magic to pick up the glasses of wine and float them over to her and her friend. In hindsight, she’d done it to protect Cinda. Not telling people what she could do was just a habit, as it had been something she’d been desperate for during high school. Eventually, during college, she’d turned into the pettiest bitch there was.

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