sharp purple

Bury Bad Habits Spell

Among the most famous hexing spells are those involving miniature-sized personalized coffins left on the spell target’s doorsteps. This coffin spell is traditionally as much an act of sheer intimidation as it is a magical spell, however it can be put to less malevolent uses. Use the little coffin spell below to lay issues to rest and, in particular, to bury addictions.

  1. Create a small coffin. You will need a little box. You can find one or make one, however the imagery should be very clear: there should be no ambiguity regarding the type of box. Inspiration, or a box itself, may be taken from Mexican Day of the Dead (Dia de los Muertos) handicrafts.
  2. Paint the outside of the box black. Decorate with purple glitter glue if desired.
  3. Traditionally the box contains a small doll, which may or may not be personalized so that the identity of the target is clear. Consider how to personify your addiction.
  4. Accompany and reinforce this spell with intensive candle burning.
  5. The doll may be pierced with pins. Add candle stubs, leftover spell wax, graveyard dirt, asafetida, and banishing powder, especially Lost and Away Powder.
  6. Dress everything with Banishing Oil.

Traditionally the coffin is left on your target’s doorstep. Consider appropriate places to leave it, or bury the little coffin within a cemetery.

You may find just making the box therapeutic in itself. In which case, reserve the box for ritual use or destroy it.

(from The Element Encyclopedia of 5,000 Spells by Judika Illes) 



Rest Stop Part 3

The nest always felt so empty without Lance. 

Keith knew his wings flickered with the thought. The soft nest of blankets hidden in the corner of the common room was well rounded with seven out of eight of the team cuddled up inside, but without Lance, it felt like there was a desolate spot, a blank filled with grey longing and melancholy. Keith frowned. He wanted Lance to fill that space.  

The others did too. Pidge sat in Shiro’s lap, and Allura leaned against Coran like always, but this time everyone stared at the empty spot next to Keith. The spot Lance would fill.  It was normal, expected even, the cuddle a teammate or family member before they went off to do something dangerous by themselves, like Pidge was going to, but Lance still hadn’t come. Did he still feel unsafe with the team, distrustful and unsure, lacking trust in them to show his wings? He never let them out either. It wasn’t healthy, for Lance or for their relationships. Keith was so surprised when it hadn’t hindered them forming Voltron. Was it like the first time on repeat for Lance, all about survival and having to or die?  

Lance hadn’t come, even after Keith had caught him in the nest after he skipped a preening session. He always skipped, or was pulled away, or was sleeping. Keith was hoping he had reassured the other, at least enough for him to come and have his wings cleaned and cuddle a little. Apparently, he hadn’t. There was no way they weren’t filthy. Was Lance, who loved skincare and being clean, deliberately leaving his wings dirty so he wouldn’t have to show the team, show Keith? Was he really that suspicious and uncomfortable, did he have so little faith in them, even Hunk?  Keith wasn’t sure to be hurt or concerned. 

Deep down, he knew. He was both. 

“Lance, c'mon! we’re going to fly with Pidge before she leaves!" 

He sighs at Hunk’s call. Just how long until they know? 

He pokes his head in the doorway.  

"I want to, but Blue needs some re-wiring. I promised her I’d do it this morning.”

“You could ask Hunk to do it afterwards.” Shiro kept deliberate eye contact. “Blue probably wouldn’t mind an engineer like Hunk fixing her up so you could fly.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind either. Space ships were going to be my career anyway. It’s no trouble, Lance.” Hunk appealed. His arms were crossed reassuringly, and there was a cocktail of emotions on his face. Lance didn’t miss the fleeting glances out the open hangar doors.

“I would, but…” Lance trailed off, eyes sliding away.

Blue’s commanding roar echoed from her hanger.

Thank you.

“The lion has spoken.” He finished, slipping into the hallway, away from the team, away from Shiro’s disappointed-dad frown, Hunk’s sigh and sad eyes, Pidge’s frustrated huff and scuffling feet, from Keith’s melancholy stare and lonely apathy.

I’m sorry.

Holy hell.

Slicing through a sentry, Keith kicked it down to finish it, letting the others coming at him trample it. The rescue mission hadn’t gone as smoothly as hoped - they had had to clear the hallways and send the prisoners into escape pods through the PA system, instead of straight to the castle when the work camp surprised them with a small fleet of jets crowding around the castle. The prisoners had been ejected around the planet, some floating in the water and others on islands. It had been Lance’s idea, and it made something warm like pride tickle Keith’s chest. It was safe, it was sturdy, it was clever. Better than anything else they had come up with.

Now, they had to finish off the connected hangers filled with Galra robots and soliders.

A bright blue laser, a streak through the mundane purple ones, cut past Keith, knocking a solider to the ground. He kept hacking and slashing, sword pulling through cold metal bodies, but a small smile was hidden in his helmet at Lance covering him. The fluidity of them working together always brought Keith home from the battle, from the war he was fighting, from the war he wasn’t fighting alone. From the sharp knives and purple fur and screaming aliens.

Lance never left him alone.

Keith sends three hunks of metal crashing to the floor, wings arched high. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see a sentry lining a shot at his wings. He can see the hand pulling the trigger squeeze. He can see Lance jump over him.

He can see Lance get hit and fall to the floor hard enough to bounce, clutching his arm.

He can see the blood spilling on the floor, not purple blood, not purple, red, red, crimson, scarlet, red, paladin-

The half dozen robots in front of him are done away with a few swift movements, he’s screaming at Shiro and Coran through the coms, and he doesn’t recognize what they’re saying other than “bring him to medical”. Lance is staring in shock at his arm, and then Keith is picking him up. The others materialized from thin air and create an opening that Keith dashes through, and if there’s anything following him, he’s lost it in seconds. Lance is still in shock, but his good arm is gripping Keith. His wings knock the shit out of a sentry when they turn the corner, then the castle is in front of them, and he’s running up the ramp, giving Lance to Coran. He spares a moment to stare at Coran rushing Lance down the hallway, the bright red trail behind them worrying him.

Don’t leave me, Lance.

He spins on his heel, and heads back into battle.

Coran doesn’t waste time inputting the code for the pod to put Lance in the medical suit when he walks in. The pod rises from the floors, cool steam escaping into the room, and he sets the half-conscious paladin inside. Blood loss out in space without human donors is dangerous, Coran had figured that much day one, so he sets the pod to do a full scan and heal as fast as he can.

“Sleep well, Lance.” He nods, locking the pod closed on the boy he sees as a son. Wistfully, he stares at Lance’s sleeping face, before placing a hand on the glass. With a sigh, he pushes off and strides out into the corridor, heading back to help the princess destroy the Galra who hurt his grandchild.

what was the turning point in Emily’s aesthetics, when exactly did she raise her hand to stop the royal tailor and said “we’re done with the white frills and bows, Bartholomew, give me the sharp-edged purple longcoat and high boots”

anonymous asked:

bleu!!!! imagine this!!!! keith comes back one day and he sees matt and lance being all flirty with each other and he's like really jealous so he stops talking to lance to give them space and he's pouting even more than normal if thats possible, so lance goes check on him and they confess to each other and its kinda angsty but its very soft

imagined it. fun to write! enjoy!

Keith’s eyes follows every move and the unsettling feeling inside him only grows when the pair in the middle for the training room share a laugh as Matt pulls Lance off the mat after he successfully flipped the brunet over in their match.

Okay, was that extra tick of holding hands necessary?

There’s a swoosh sound near him and Keith blinks in surprise when Pidge shouts terrified next to him.

“What, what¡?” he asks, looking around for a possible danger, tightening his hold on his Marmora’s blade in the process but Pidge only flinches away from him, hand over her chest as she takes deep breaths.

“Keith, for fucks sake, control your damn blade!” Pidge shouts, her eyes losing their fear as she glares at her teammate, “That thing almost poked my eye out!”

Keith blinks at the accusation before his eyes look down to his hand, fully expecting a small knife but instead meeting his full formed Marmora’s blade, the curve at the tip close to his tigh.

“Oh, shit! Pidge, I’m so sorry!” Keith winces, shaking the blade for a tick, trying to turning back to its small size and sighing in relief when it finally does, “I am so so sorry, Pidge! I didn’t even realized -“

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’re sorry.” Pidge waves him off, a small sigh leaving her lips as she sits back on their bench slowly and wipes the sweat running down her forehead with her towel, “I thought you said that you had this thing under control? Didn’t Kolivan’s training work?”

Keith shakes his head, eyes inspecting his knife slowly. “No, no, it did, but it activates whenever I’m having strong feelings over something? So, it’s hard to control that sometimes.”

Pidge arches an eyebrow at the statement. “Strong feelings? What the heck does that -”

“Guys! Are you okay?”

Both teens turn their head towards the new voice. Lance and Matt make their way towards them, a concern look on both of their faces.

“Pidge, are you okay?” Matt asks, looking her over quickly before sighing in relief at no signs of injury.

“I’m fine, Keith just surprised me with a knife move, I guess.” Pidge shrugs nonchalantly.

Keith still winces guiltily. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, dude.”

“Well,” Lance starts, cocking his hip to the side, “I think Matt and I also deserve an apology because you two messed with our groove just now.”

Matt nods, arm resting against Lance’s shoulder casually. “Heck yeah, man! I was kicking his ass.”

“Uh, no, excuse you, Mister, but I was sweeping the floor with your butt!”

“Well, I don’t know about ‘sweeping’ but there was definitely staring,” Matt jokes, wiggling his eyebrows in an over dramatic way to be seductive and it makes Lance to snort.

“Says the one who whistled at this masterpiece!” Lance laughs, point at his butt and Matt actually leans back to look at it before he nods in approval.

“A very nice butt, yes.”

Pidge rolls her eyes, teasing at the edge of her tongue until there’s a familiar sound and this time it’s Lance’s shriek that echoes around the training room.

“Keith! Quiznak, control your damn blade!” Lance shouts, jumping on his spot and taking cover behind Matt when Keith’s knife turns into a full sharp blade, the soft purple on it glowing like a pulse.

“Heh, cool.” Matt whistles, leaning closer to have a better look of the blade, “That was awesome! How does it work? Does it activate at will or does it work like with a button or?”

“Uh, no, no, it activates on….um, emotions I guess.” Keith answers awkwardly, frowning when his blade takes a second longer to go back to its original form.

“Cool.” Matt nods, eyes still inspecting the small knife.

Pidge frowns, eyes staring right at Keith before falling on his knife and then looking at Lance and Matt together.

It clicks.

“Oh,” Pidge breaths out, “Ooooh!”

The three men look back at her surprised, Lance being the only one to arch an eyebrow at her in confusion. “Pidge -?”

“Matt, I need your help as in right now, with something techny whatnot back in Green’s hangar,” Pidge cuts him off hurriedly, grabbing her brother by the wrist and pulling him along, “Come on now.”

“Uh, Pidge, what -?” Keith starts but blinks in surprise when Pidge spins back at him.

“Keith, you are jelly, as in jealous -”

Lance chokes. “He’s what ¡?”

“ - so I’m just protecting everyone’s eyes by doing this. So, uh, yeah, fix it and control your blade.”

“You are what¡?” Lance shouts, eyes falling on Keith while the teen’s eye twitches in annoyance, his free hand raising as if to choke from afar Pidge’s neck.

“That little sh -”

“Keith! Focus!” Lance slaps his arm, ignoring the surprised yelp from his teammate, “What does she means?”

“Nothing!” Keith squeaks, looking bewildered at his own voice.

Lance just blinks at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion before he hums, leaning back to stare at Keith in deep thought. He rubs his chin casually before he claps his hands and slowly takes Keith’s knife from him.

“Yeah, okay, excuse me, I’m just gonna grab this,” Lance nods in approval when Keith finally lets go of the blade, frowning confused but not making an effort to stop Lance’s action, “And I’m going to leave it right here on the bench because I don’t want to get stabbed by it.”

Keith looks alarmed. “Why would you get stabbed by -!”

“Because of this.”

Keith gasps but the sound is quickly tuned out when Lance’s lips are pressed against his own. It takes him a tick, maybe two, for Keith to finally relax at Lance’s slow and soothing moves.

He reaches out, one hand on the back of Lance’s neck and the other one holding Lance’s waist tightly, bringing him closer and almost groaning with pleasure when Lance hums contently at the action.

A heavy but pleasant warmth starts pooling inside Keith’s chest before Lance’s lips leave and Keith tries to chase them, a small whine leaving his own when Lance only laughs softly.

Keith blinks his eyes open, looking dazzled but happy. Lance smiles back at him, a playful eyebrow raised in question.

“Yeah,” Keith breaths out, “Yeah, it was a good idea leaving the blade on the bench.”

Lance’s laugh is cut off when Keith launches himself forward to reconnect their lips.