#Scented candle

[chipsy]

[cowboyandcricket]

Hail and well met, adventurers! Have you emerged from the bg3 hole yet? I came up for a quick breath and decided to make these candles because I'm a messy bitch (and because you are seeing this post you might be a messy bitch too). So if you want to get a sniff of canonical Astarion cologne, or take in Halsin's hard wood scent, or Shadowheart's emo phase, or the hotness of Karlach, I've got you covered. If they're currently sold out, I'm restocking as fast as I can, I promise.

Oh and if you can't choose, you can enjoy them all at once.

[moonfulthoughts]

20.01.23 - more studying

I love the look of a candle when you light it for the first time, with the flat surface and everything! Anyway, today i'm hopefully finishing my summary of the course book. And maybe writing some more in my (non-existent) novel :)

[magicalshopping]

♡ Fish Cracker Bowl Candle ♡

[ashintheairlikesnow]

I Long to Hear You

Sigh Not So | Secrets Hid Away | Shed Tears Aplenty | Fire Down Below | Rolling Down | Won’t You Go My Way? | The Seas No More | The Nightingale’s Song | Bones in the Ocean | For She Was Afraid | Time for Us to Leave Her | To Unchain Me | A Good Time Coming | I Long to Hear You |

CW: Gender dysphoria, brief magical mind manipulation, referenced mind control

-

There was a candle made with lavender oils in the room they had locked her into.

Kiraya hadn't realized there was anything more to it than wax, and had lit it just for something to do, quickly writing the symbol with her fingers to heat the air around the wick until it caught fire. The shiver of magic felt like a reassurance that she would find her way out of this, somehow, some way. 

Without her kit, she could do only these small magics - and the spell to make her body right, which was tied so firmly to her that no one else could have replicated it the same. She could warm water to wash her face, she could make the drapes shift as if in a breeze... it wasn't much, but at least it was something. 

Once the candle was lit, she had gone to lie on the cozy, comfortable bed.

Then, she had simply wept until her eyes were worn and her head pounded, until the soft quilt beneath her was damp with her tears and she could weep no more. 

She must have slept, though she had no dreams.

She opened her eyes and groaned as she realized she was in the wrong body again, the spell having faded as soon as she fell asleep as it always did. She grimaced as she shifted and her dress no longer fit right, too loose at the chest and hips, fabric wrinkling where it should have been gently curved. The other body, the one she worked so hard to leave behind whenever she could, met her with a flat chest and the wrong… everything. She felt like a snake trapped within skin that should have shed, rubbing wrongly all along her and yet unable to be left behind.

When she ran fingers along her jaw and found it sharper, more angled, she swore and grabbed a throw pillow, tossing it at the wall with a noise of sheer helpless frustration.

Then she wept again.

Was it worth using magic to fix the problem again, or would she need all she had later on, and she should save it up? Maybe best to wait, but she felt uncomfortable in this body, as if someone had switched her with her twin - a twin who didn’t exist. 

Then again, maybe if she kept the wrong body, Guilford Wentworth would not ogle her like meat in a butcher shoppe. Although who knew how a man like him would react? 

She thought of the cold smile on his face as he threatened her so casually… and she slumped, lying still and silent for a while, feeling utterly hopeless. 

At least there seemed to be no mirror in this place, so she didn’t have to stare into the red-rimmed, wrong-shaped eyes, the wrong face with all its hard angles, as if waking up in her brother’s body and not her own. At least there was that. 

She frowned and moved to rise up, weight back on her elbows and forearms. She could smell something like flowers in the air, and that was when she realized the candle she had lit was scented. The wicked man who had locked her in here was the sort of person to make sure his guests had the comfort of a soothing scent while he decided how they might die at his hand, and when.

She’d felt incredulous laughter burst from her, half-hysterical and bubbling with panic, as she stared at the dancing flame. Even when she finally managed to clap both hands over her mouth and muffle herself, it felt like it rang and echoed, bouncing around the room, a sound that was only a few steps below a scream. 

She touched her bottom lip with her fingertips, wincing at the swollen spot, tonguing at it. Those slaps had busted her lip, and she hadn’t even noticed until the lavender scent had broken her from what had felt like some strange stupor. She could see where blood had spotted on the quilt along with her tears, and she pressed at the place with one finger.

If it weren’t for the bars on the windows in this lovely, well-appointed room, she might have been able to forget she was a prisoner. Well, the barred windows, magic woven into every single wall and door, the wild and terrifying threats of the wealthiest and most powerful man she’d ever met, and… also the portraits of strange people that hung on all the walls, staring unblinking at her until she could feel their weight like a hand on her back. 

Rain spattered on the windows as the wind blew it nearly sideways, hitting the glass like it had been thrown by an angry spirit. She turned her head to watch it, bleary and blurred until she blinked away some of the last remaining tears that clung to her lashes. Some of her books on histories and mythologies had said that the moon goddess had a hand in the weather, and she wondered now if the moon hated her - or maybe Guilford Wentworth - and had sent the rain as a punishment, or maybe just a warning.

Give me back my child. Is that what it all was meant to be saying? Had the moon herself pulled the waves from the ocean to dump them on the coastal peoples until her son was sent back home?

Maybe Kira was already losing her mind. The weather had been lovely when she arrived in the city, clearly Wentworth wasn’t being divinely punished by anyone for anything. This was just a storm. 

Lightning flashed so close outside the window that Kira jumped in surprise, fingers tightening on the blanket. Thunder cracked on its heels and rattled the windows, rumbling up from the ground through Kira’s very bones. There was a sound outside, a groaning and cracking and then a crashing as - she thought - a tree must have been split in two and fallen to the ground. She swallowed, heart pounding, and stared outside into the near-total darkness, past the water drops and to the faint shadows of tree branches blowing wildly, throwing their leaves into the wind. 

Somewhere down below, nearly inaudible, she heard the captive siren begin to sing. Somehow the sound traveled out of his own beautiful prison and through the walls, finding her two floors up, and settled over her skin, found its way into the very marrow of her bones. 

His voice was a strong tenor, rising effortlessly high, and she felt her heart twist painfully in an echo of the grief the siren had layered through the notes. He had spent so long, she thought - not recognizing the dizzy spin in her mind for what it was - so long trapped here. He was scared, and lonely, and angry. He needed help. He needed her help.

She caught her breath, realizing only too late that there was a command in the music. It wasn’t strong enough to compel, not yet, but she could tease it from the notes if she concentrated on it. It was meant, she thought, only for her.

Relax, the song whispered into her mind, and she felt herself lay back on the bed, staring up at the canopy above her. Thunder rumbled again, but this time she did not jump, and her heart rate slowed to a peaceful, settled rhythm. 

It felt so nice.

It was so terribly wrong.

“Stop,” She whispered, but it had no weight to it. Fear was there, at the back of her mind, but it couldn’t get past the soft fog of the notes as they ran up her arms and around her neck. As if the siren himself were holding her.

And yet… the command, when it came, wasn't quite what she had expected. All she heard was a simple, infinitely sad, I want to go home. Please…

“Please what?” She whispered, lips barely moving. The creature couldn’t possibly hear her, and yet she had the feeling that he felt her words, through the connection his song made between them. 

Please… His voice felt like lips moving against the sensitive skin on the curve of her ear. He breathed, as if he laid next to her in the bed. Wound around his song, she very nearly felt the weight as he shifted on the mattress. Please help me. Help me…

“Stop trying to force me,” She said in return, and found herself half-smiling, mischief rising irrationally, “And I will.”

Please help me…

“I don’t like you in my head. Stop singing right now, and I swear on my magic and my name that I will do what I can to help you."

There was a pause. 

The siren’s voice wound down into a hushed hum. What is your name? Tell me your name so I may have the power of it.

Kira thought of the way names had power to the creatures of magic in the world, although much less for people, and she smiled. "I will give you the name I was born with. It isn't mine any longer, and you may do with it whatever you want."

What name did your mother speak when first you cried at her breast?

"She called me Olen because she thought I was her son," Kiraya whispered. "Olen Losna. Then she died, before she learned I was never a son at all. Her name was Kyrie, and my grandmother's name was Olenna, and my great-grandmother changed her name every five years or so…”

The tenor of his voice changed, just a little. 

What is your name?

 “Kira.” Her lips seemed to be moving all on their own, without her help at all. “Kiraya Losna…”

Help me, Kiraya Losna-... be so kind to me-

"I want to be kind to you." Her eyes began to flutter shut. Each blink took longer and longer. "But you must stop commanding me to be. I want to help you..."

Kiraya Losna-

She heard a pounding, a shout muffled through wall. "Miss Losna! Don't listen! Miss Losna!"

The song abruptly went silent, and its spell shattered within her, breaking apart. All at once, her mind cleared, and she inhaled sharply and sat up.

“Please!” Came the strange voice from the other side of the door. A woman's voice. “Please, don’t listen to it! Block your ears! Don't let it take you!"

She ran to the door and it finally, finally opened when she turned the knob. On the other side of the door was the serving-girl from earlier. She no longer wore a hazy smile, but instead had a sharp gaze full of panic, wearing her nightclothes and with her hair a loose pile of red curls falling around her shoulders. She still had one hand raised in the act of pounding on the door. 

Kira swallowed. “Thank you, are you-... are you all right? Are you-... are you still-”

“It fades,” The girl whispered, reaching out to grab onto Kira’s hands, clinging to them. The girl’s fingers were as chilled as if they were carved from ice. She squeezed Kira’s fingers until they ached, tears running from her wide blue eyes over freckled cheeks. “Lately, it fades sometimes in the night, but still we cannot leave. You must not let it take you, Miss, you must not let it sing you to madness like it has sung us all! You must not listen to the siren song! You will lose yourself, as we have lost ourselves! It will ruin you!"

Before Kira could respond, a deep voice boomed from down the hall, “Nadette! What are you doing in the residence this late?” 

The two women's heads jerked to the side at once, both of them turning to look. Then Nadette’s eyes seemed to widen even more, if it were possible, and she shook her head, her lower lip trembling. “No, no no no…” She whispered. "No, please... Please, please..."

Then she… blinked, and all her panic and fear was gone.

The serving-girl looked confused, staring down at herself and then giving a little squeak and flushing bright red, freckles disappearing into the rush of blood. Terror replaced by mortified embarrassment. “Oh, no! What am I-... what…”

“Nadette.” The deep voice went slightly softer, kinder, and one of the men who had forced Kiraya up to this room came walking up. His gaze went to Kira, and she felt herself bristle at the flat hostility in his foggy gaze and glared at him right back. Controlled by the siren or not, his grip had been tight enough on her arm to leave bruises. “You. You are to stay in your room, Miss Losna. And you, Nadette, should be asleep in the servants’ quarters by now.”

“I-I should… But I was asleep.” Nadette blinked rapidly, but then only shook her head. “I-I’m sorry, Ellwen, I must have… been walking in my sleep again…” 

“Clearly,” Ellwen murmured, with odd care and concern for Nadette that Kira hadn’t seen in him before. "You've done it so much lately, I worry for you, love."

Nadette patted him on the hand, and Kira tried not to wonder if their romance was their own, or if Wentworth had ordered the siren to make them like this. The horror of the latter option threatened to shatter her completely.

Ellwen gave Kira one more desultory glance, and then leaned over and yanked the door shut in her face as she stood there staring. It slammed before she could even move, and when she jerked forwards, the handle no longer turned.

“Wait! Wait!”

“Be quiet,” Ellwen said, bass voice booming right through the door. “Lord Wentworth will see to you in the morning.” She heard them moving away from her down the hall, Ellwen speaking in a low soft voice to Nadette, Nadette sounding confused and uncertain, but gradually reassured. 

No matter how she called out after that, no one answered her.

No one came.

The siren did not sing again.

-

Taglist:  @grizzlie70 @burtlederp @finder-of-rings  @theelvishcowgirl @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @bloodinkandashes @squishablesunbeam @mj-or-say10 @apokolyps @wildfaewhump @shrimpwritings @there-will-always-be-blood @latenightcupsofcoffee

@whumptober, day 29: scented candle

[illustrationsbychristina]

Power Rangers Fan Candles: Dino Bite

This is a fan project, not associated with Hasbro, Saban, or any storefront.

22 and 23. Dino Bite - Power Rangers Dino Charge

Take a bite out of your hunger and the bad guys!

[adorkabletwilightandfriends]

Adorkable Twilight & Friends - “Baking Biscuits”

https://www.patreon.com/adorkabletwilightandfriends

https://twitter.com/AdorkableTwili1

http://adorkabletwilightandfriends.wikia.com

http://adorkabletwixfriends.deviantart.com

[rjavenuru]

Made this little decoration/autumn altar a couple of years ago. Spring is cold and wet. I miss cold and dry autumn 😝

[urbancandlesllc]

I find immense joy and fulfillment when people express their appreciation for my candles. Each heartfelt compliment and glowing review warms my soul and reaffirms why I pour my passion into crafting each and every one. Knowing that my creations bring light, comfort, and joy to others truly melts my heart and inspires me to continue sharing my love for candle making with the world.

[dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night]

Seasons in the Sun chapter six

Whumptober No. 29: Scented Candle

TW: claustrophobia, arranged marriage, monarchy, blood, brief misgendering, referenced death of a parent, implied xenophobia, emotional whump, human whumper, vampire whumpee

The wedding party was as crowded as Slava had feared. The sea of human figures parted for his husband, but still it threatened to drown him.

At least the chairs were comfortable, and sitting next to his husband gave the effortless illusion of comfort and love. They hardly needed to look at each other, so long as they remained inseparable before hundreds of guests.

The scented candles on the table filled the air with a sweet aroma. Something like lilacs, but not precisely. Slava wondered if humans had as bad of senses as people always said, and if so, whether they could really smell the candles they lit.

Of all the people Slava could have met first, he was glad for it to be his sons-in-law. They were such cute little boys, running up to gawk at him, but hiding behind their father's chair.

"It's polite to at least say hello," Cobalt chastised them. "This is your new mother. She deserves some proper attention."

"Yes father," Harbor said.

"Yes father," Bastian copied.

They both were at a loss on what to say, barely managing to look Slava in the eye, let alone speak. So, Slava took the initiative in starting a conversation.

"You must be Harbor and Bastian. Your father speaks very fondly of you. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintances."

Harbor and Bastian stared at Slava's mouth as he spoke. Or his fangs, rather. Equally terrified and enchanted.

"I can't believe you're a real life vampire!" Harbor exclaimed. "That's so cool!"

Bastian crossed his arms. "Do you really eat people?"

Slava felt heat rise in his cheeks. Blushing was awfully uncomfortable, even more so in such warm weather Than in the cold he was used to.

"Yes, I'm a vampire," he said patiently. "A real life one, even. Almost everyone in Alkseir is. And no, I don't eat people." He smiled mischievously. "I drink them."

Bastian's jaw dropped. But he took a step forward, instead of running away as most little kids would have, morbidly interested in Slava.

"Are you gonna eat- I mean drink us?" Harbor asked, looking awfully unfazed by the notion.

"No silly," Slava said. "You're my step-children. That would be terrible parenting, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, yes," Cobalt interjected. "And you two need to stop being so rude. Slava is going to be a member of our family for a very long time. You had best get used to him. Now sit down."

Harbor and Bastian had a brief squabble over who got to sit next to Slava, ending with Harbor pulling eldest son privilege. Bastian sat down next to his brother, leaning back in his chair so he could see Slava better.

People took their seats at this table, and the others set up around it. They were all dressed in the most modern of fashions, with acid dyed colors, floral adornments, and low collars. Advisers, generals, diplomats, and many others, none of whom Slava recognized.

"Is my mother still here?" Slava asked Cobalt. "I never got to say goodbye."

"She planned to stay until the early hours of the morning," Cobalt said. "I must admit, I'm unused to having weddings at night. But rest assured, she will stay here until you say your goodbyes. And you'll see her again at some future political meeting or other."

His words did much to ease Slava's anxiety. He felt almost silly for his fears, like a little boy still clinging to his mother's legs at a party. Of course he might see her again, even if their lives would remain firmly separated for decades to come.

"Our mother died," Harbor interrupted. "We had a step-mother once, but she only lasted a couple months. I don't remember her name."

While Slava was curious about what had happened to their step-mother, he knew better than to ask. Opening old wounds was a bad practice, especially when they marred the souls of young children.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said gently. "I'm sure you miss your mother very much. Having me here must be difficult for you, but I promise that I am not trying to replace your mother. No one could do that."

"Yeah you could," Bastian said, with an over exaggerated shrug. "You're our mother now."

"And you're a vampire," Harbor emphasized. "That means you won't die."

Sympathy stabbed at Slava's heart, quite intent on tearing it to shreds. He had never suffered the death of a parent, so he had no idea how to comfort Harbor and Bastian. Especially when they seemed so nonchalant about their loss.

"That's enough talk about Fleur," Cobalt said, trying to hide his emotional pain from the advisers and generals sitting at their table. "This is a happy occasion. I'd rather not spoil it."

"Yes father," Bastian and Harbor said in unison.

Slava wasn't sure how Cobalt taught two young boys to be so well behaved, but he admired him for it. Slava and his siblings had been such trouble makers in comparison.

Servants came onto the grounds, bearing platters of food and drink. Plates and cups were made from the finest ceramics, and utensils from well polished silver. The servants provided for the royal family first, as always, then attended to their guests.

A glass of blood sat properly on the table in front of Slava. He pretended like he knew how to drink from it, watching Cobalt out of the corner of his eye to mimic how he brought the cup to his lips and slowly tilted it back to drink.

It was an odd sensation, but Slava was supremely grateful for dinner. Anxiety was always worse on an empty stomach. He supposed he would have to get used to this sort of dining, and was thankful to have caught onto the proper manners so quickly.

"Is that really blood?" Harbor asked.

Slava set his cup down on the saucer. "Yes, of course. I wouldn't drink fake blood, now would I?"

"I guess not. Do you eat food too, or just blood?"

"Just blood. Food is for humans."

"What does it taste like?" Bastian had a hard time keeping his excitement in check, twitching like a kitten in a field of catnip. "Is it good?"

"Have you ever lost a tooth?" Slava asked, figuring humans did that as well as vampires.

Bastian nodded. "So… like a coin? But wetter?"

Slava had never tasted a coin before, and it seemed a bizarre comparison.

"Everyone has different tasting blood. Like how-" Slava glanced at Harbor's plate, trying to remember what humans ate "-Kinds of meat probably taste different from each other."

"That's so cool!" Harbor exclaimed.

Cobalt shot him an exasperated look. "Keep your voice down."

"Sorry father."

"Can I see your teeth again?" Bastian asked Slava. "They're pointy."

Slava's mother had told him to smile with closed lips when humans were about, as they took such things as a sign of aggression. He had already failed multiple times this night alone.

But ignoring her advice when explicitly prompted couldn't hurt anything. Especially for the sake of satisfying inquisitive children. So, he smiled at Bastian, revealing the fangs he had tried so hard to keep hidden.

"That's awesome," Bastian breathed.

"You're so pretty," Harbor added politely. "Like a fairy."

"More like elves," Bastian argued. "Since they've got pointy ears just like Slava's. And they're tall."

"Or a goddess," Harbor said. "The ones in those old paintings our teachers make us look at."

Slava laughed softly to himself. What peculiar children he had ended up with. They were sure to end up kind, but very eccentric, adults. And, truth be told, he wouldn't have it any other way.

Taglist: @hugh-lauries-bald-spot @whumpsday @whumpshaped @heavenlyeden @thecyrulik @bloodinkandashes @whumpytine

[lady-wallace]

Whumptober Day 29 (Buddy Daddies)

Final Buddy Daddies fic for @whumptober More Rei angst today with some headcanons about his mother and why he sleeps in a bathtub.

~~~~~~~

Prompts Used: Scented Candles, Troubled Past Resurfacing, 'What happened to me?' Fandom: Buddy Baddies Character: Rei

~~~~~~~

Read on Ao3

~~~~~~~

Kazuki was an enigma to Rei. He didn't understand his insistence on keeping the apartment clean, or on making three meals a day (and forcing Rei to eat them). Making sure Rei showered, cutting his hair, and buying furniture to fill up the empty spaces. Well, maybe that made a little sense to Rei because it meant there were more things to hide behind in the event of an attack.

But perhaps it was because Kazuki was so normal. Rei had never been around people like that. He'd watched them on the outside living their lives. It was that curiosity that had led him to heading off to live on his own before he realized that he wasn't good at fitting in with normal people.

Even now, Kazuki was humming happily to himself as he came back to the apartment after shopping, calling to Rei while he sat on the couch playing games.

"Hey, I'm back! Grabbed some stuff for dinner."

Rei didn't reply. He had figured out that Kazuki would talk no matter if he did or not. He seemed to have a need to fill a space and it was, a lot of time, a welcome distraction to Rei.

He glanced over toward the kitchen where Kazuki was putting stuff away and saw him setting out a couple expensive looking candles on the counter.

"Got some candles today—thought they might make the place smell better."

"Why?" Rei had to ask.

"Dude, it reeks in here," Kazuki replied as he rummaged around for a lighter. "Trust me, you'll be able to tell the difference."

Rei turned back to his games, not wanting to bother trying to figure out another weird—or perhaps normal?—thing his roommate was doing.

That was until he caught the scent of the candles wafting through the house, sugary, warm and—

Gentle hands caring for a scraped knee.

A smile hovering over him, surrounded by long black hair.

"Stay here, don't move!"

A bathroom, inside the tub—broken glass all around. 

"I'll always love you."

"Stay here and cover your ears."

Two men carrying something under a blood-stained sheet.

A sharp sting on his cheek, falling to the floor. "Soft like your mother."

"I'll always love you."

Rei gasped aloud, staggering to his feet, his hand coming to his head, dizzy from the sudden assault of—what, memories? Definitely memories, but from where?

"Rei? Hey, you good, man?"

He had to stop this. He grabbed his pistol and shot the candle, exploding the glass and wax into a hundred pieces and leaving a bullet hole in the wall behind it as Kazuki dove away with a shriek.

"Wh-what the hell man?" Kazuki demanded. "The landlord's gonna kill us for that!"

Rei didn't reply, he couldn't. He had to get out of here, away from the scent.

He hurried out of the apartment, stopping once he was out of the street, breathing in fresh air and effectively clearing his head.

What happened to me? he wondered, looking down at his shaky hand. That kind of thing wasn't supposed to happen to him. His father had made sure he was trained better than that.

SLAP—Soft like your mother

"Mother," Rei whispered.

He didn't remember his mother…he thought. But, that must have been….

"Rei!"

He startled as Kazuki jogged up to him, slowing down as he realized Rei wasn't going to go anywhere.

"Hey, man, I hope I didn't offend you or anything," he said. "I just thought the candles would be nice. Are you allergic or something?"

Rei shook his head.

"Then why the hell did you shoot it, man—those are expensive, you know!"

"I don't know," Rei finally replied, hands clenching. "Can you shut up?!"

Kazuki looked like he had slapped him and Rei might as well have. He'd never addressed the other man like that before, barely paid him outward heed.

"Rei, are you all right?"

"Leave me alone," Rei replied as he pushed past the other man and headed back to the apartment, going directly to his room. He needed to clear his head. He sank onto the bed, trying to take deep breaths to steady himself.

The same images flashed through his mind: Soft hands, long black hair, warm sweet scent of sugar, bathtub, broken, shouting, broken glass…

Rei didn't realize he had been clenching his hands so hard until he looked down to see his nails had made red crescents in his palms. He let out a shuddering breath and loosened his hands, still finding dangerous tremors in them.

Why had this affected him so much? Why had he allowed it to? He couldn't understand why those memories he didn't even know he'd had just showed up all of a sudden, uninvited, just because he had smelled a damn candle.

He stretched out on the bed, lowering one arm over his eyes as he tried to clear his mind. But everything just felt like it was such a mess and he didn't know what he was going to do.

XXX

Rei slunk down the stairs later that evening when he heard Kazuki banging around in the kitchen. It wasn't a familiar feeling to him, but he felt somewhat awkward, almost…well, a little bad about yelling at Kazuki earlier. While it technically was his fault for buying the candle, he couldn't know what had happened in Rei's head because of it.

Rei took a seat at the counter, hunched slightly. He could see the candle that he hadn't shot sitting to one side and tried not to let it make him uncomfortable. He watched Kazuki cook for a few minutes. The man always seemed so sure of himself while he was in the kitchen, doing things Rei had never seen anyone do before. But then, he could barely make toast, so what did he know?

"You hungry?"

Kazuki's words startled him out of his strangely rambling mind. He shrugged.

Kazuki continued, moving on to crack eggs, tossing the shells over his shoulder into the sink.

One missed and spattered raw egg on the counter and Kazuki glanced back with a sheepish grin. "Aw, missed. Was sure I'd get it that time." He chuckled, then let out a sigh with a brief smile. "My wife always hated it when I would do that."

Rei watched him clean it up and toss the shells into the trash before going back to cooking.

"You know, the only reason I bought the candles is because they reminded me of my wife," Kazuki went on. "She always had a million of them around the house, I was afraid she'd light the place on fire." He smiled fondly. "

Rei furrowed his brow. Kazuki never talked about his wife. Rei knew she had died, that was all. He'd seen one picture of her before Kazuki had put it into a drawer, clearly stating that it was none of Rei's business. So it confused him that he was bringing her up now.

"That scent was her favorite," Kazuki added.

The memories flashed back through his mind again and he squeezed his eyes shut before another memory popped into his head.

"This one is my favorite, doesn't it smell good, Rei-chan?" Warm flame, lighting the dark room. A soft kiss on his forehead through a curtain of black hair. "Maybe it will help you sleep."

Something caught in his throat and before he knew it he said, "My mother's too."

It surprised him and apparently surprised Kazuki too because he paused briefly before resuming his work, pouring eggs into a pan.

Rei was still confused about why he had even spoken when Kazuki said, "Memories can hurt sometimes. I still get sad when I think of her. But, you know, I guess that's how you know someone had an impact on your life."

But what if you don't remember? Rei wondered.

XXX

Rei never usually slept well. He was too hyperaware of his surroundings to fall into more than a light sleep. Tonight was worse though, because on top of his usual trained anxiety, he could not stop the images flashing through his mind, a messy jumble that threatened to drive him mad.

Because he did vaguely remember his mother, and he knew that something bad had happened to her, so how the hell had he forgotten that? He wanted to remember, but he didn't know how…

Rei pushed himself up from the couch where he had been trying to sleep, and glanced to the corner of the kitchen counter where Kazuki had set the second candle.

Rei got up and padded over to grab it, staring at it warily. He hadn't liked the loss of control he'd felt earlier when it came to the memories, but…

He wanted to remember. Maybe if he could control the situation, it would help everything become clearer?

"Stay here, don't move"

The frantically whispered words echoed again and Rei suddenly started upstairs, slipping into the bathroom. The tub stood there like some kind of sanctuary, a promise of safety. Rei set the candle down on the side of it and pulled out his lighter.

Warm light emanated from the flame, and he eased himself down into the tub, sitting cross-legged with his hands clasped in front of him, head down. He closed his eyes as the sweet scent filtered in, setting off memories once more.

He took a deep breath and tried to stop the instant flow, plucking one out and trying to focus on it, breathing the scent in deeply:

"Can't sleep again?"

Rei lay curled under his blankets, shaking his head. He could hear the men in suits outside, slamming car doors and driving away. They scared him.

"Here, I have an idea."

His mother left the room for a moment before returning with a candle. She set it by his bedside and lit it silently. A comforting glow spread around the room, allowing Rei to breathe a little easier.

"This one is my favorite, doesn't it smell good, Rei-chan?" Her face was in shadows, but she leaned over the bed, silky black hair acting as a curtain for the world beyond as she bent to kiss his forehead. "Maybe it will help you sleep."

"But papa—"

"Your father doesn't need to know," his mother said softly, stroking his hair. "Everyone needs a little light in the dark. Now close your eyes, I'll stay with you until you fall asleep."

Rei blinked, inhaling sharply. He couldn't remember the last time he had thought of his mother with such clarity. He had completely forgotten being that young even. It seemed so long ago in more than just years.

He swallowed hard and tried to dig for the other memory, focusing on the bathtub.

A loud bang startled him awake, Rei had barely opened his eyes before his mother was scooping him out of bed, carrying him quickly out of the room, where the men in suits were rushing down the hall, guns in hand.

"Mama?"

"Shh, be quiet."

She threw open the bathroom door and placed Rei into the tub. 

"Stay here, don't move," she said quickly, cupping his cheek. "Just stay here and cover your ears."

"What's happening?"

"Don't ask questions, darling," she pleaded. "Promise me you'll stay down and not come out until I come for you. You'll be safe here, I promise." She leaned in and kissed his forehead. "I'll always love you, Rei."

Then she was gone and Rei was torn on following her, but the loud bangs sounded out and he was too scared so he curled up as small as he could in the tub and slammed his hands over his ears. 

He didn't know how long he waited. Noises crashed around him, shards of glass and plaster sprinkling down as things exploded in the room. But Rei stayed still, knowing his mother wouldn't lie. That as long as he did he would be okay.

He stayed that way a long time after the sounds stopped. Someone opened the door and Rei finally looked up, hoping it was Mama but it was just one of the men in suits.

"I found him," the man said speaking into a crackling radio. "He seems to be okay."

The man reached into the tub and picked Rei up, shoes crunching over the glass on the floor.

"Mama," Rei murmured.

The man didn't say anything, but Rei wriggled free as soon as they got out and started running as the man swore.

"Mama!" he shouted.

He ran until he hit his father, staggering back as the man made no move to help him, staring at the milling men in the entryway of the house. Two men were picking up stretchers covered in red-stained white sheets, carrying them out the front door.

Rei saw a curtain of dark hair spilling from under one of them and started forward.

"M-Mama!"

His father caught his shoulder tightly, hauling him back.

"She won't be coming back, boy. You'd best get used to that. It's time to grow up and begin learning the duties of the Suwa heir."

He left, leaving Rei standing there, alone.

Rei came out of the memory, hands shaking, breaths coming quick and sharp. He looked around, half expecting to see that destroyed bathroom from before, but it was just the same as it always was, with the addition of the candle.

He let out a long breath, slowly laying down in the tub to stare up at the ceiling, allowing the warm scent of the burning wax to lull him. When he closed his eyes he could almost feel the touch of a hand on his cheek, soft lips on his forehead.

"I'll always love you."

"Mama," he whispered. An odd feeling came over him, not necessarily sadness—it had been so long ago now. But he felt glad to have remembered. Perhaps Kazuki was right. Maybe memories were worth the hurt they caused.

He curled up in the bottom of the tub, feeling safe with the candle glow and closed his eyes. And for the first time in a long time, he was able to fall into a deep, peaceful sleep.

XXX

Kazuki got up to grab a drink of water, noticing that Rei's bedroom door was open. Not that he usually slept there anyway, but he was still feeling a little bad about the candle incident. He didn't know what the scent might have brought up, but he was sure it probably wasn't good considering Rei's reaction.

But his roommate wasn't on the couch either when Kazuki got downstairs, which was odd.

Frowning, Kazuki got his glass of water and returned upstairs.

That was when he saw a warm glow from under the bathroom door and caught the scent of brown sugar and vanilla.

"Rei?" he asked.

There was no reply, and, worried, Kazuki cautiously opened the door.

The first thing he saw was the candle sitting on the side of the tub, burning away with a warm glow.

Inside the tub was Rei, curled in the bottom, sleeping heavily, breathing even and slow. His face actually looked relaxed and Kazuki felt an almost brotherly affection toward the younger man at the sight.

He went to grab a blanket, draping it over the sleeping man, leaving the candle burning as he went to catch some sleep himself.

~~~~~~~

Check out my Whumptober Masterpost HERE for more stories!

If you want to follow me on other social media or ask about fic or art commissions, find my info on My Carrd

[meraki24601]

Scented Candle

Whumptober day 29. Prompt: Scented Candle.

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Whumpee wasn’t sure they’d ever enjoy large crowds again. They used to live for them. The bumping of shoulders as you cross the street in a big city, or being surrounded by people screaming their idol’s name at a big concert. But that was a long time ago. 

Today was Whumpee’s birthday. They had been doing good. Therapy and the support of Caretaker helped them reach the point where they could leave the apartment again. For some reason, to celebrate their progress and their birthday, Whumpee had decided to throw a small party. 

Five of Whumpee’s friends were invited to their and Caretaker’s apartment. Whumpee hadn’t wanted any gifts, but everyone brought one anyway, including Caretaker. Voice soft and hands shaking, Whumpee opened the gifts as everyone stared. Each person present was someone Whumpee trusted to keep them safe and to understand if things went south. Still, they couldn’t help but feel the pressure to respond well to the gifts and ensure no one would be upset or think Whumpee was ungrateful.

It had been going well enough. Whumpee had made it through three of the six presents with only one incident where they almost dropped the surprisingly heavy gift (Caretaker had gotten Whumpee a weighted blanket). The fourth was where things went wrong. 

One of Whumpee’s friends had started a candle-making business. Of course, their gift was a brand new candle hand-made with Whumpee’s favorite colors. It was beautiful with the wooden wick Whumpee loved. Whumpee was ready to gush over their friend’s handiwork, but then they smelled it.

The scent was very clean. Carefully crafted so it wasn’t overwhelming, with just a hint of lavender beneath. It smelled like Whumper’s laundry detergent.

Time seemed to slow as the scent flooded the room. Whumpee could feel Whumper’s hands wrap around their throat like back when they had accidentally shrunken one of Whumper’s shirts. They could taste blood as Whumper shoved a towel still warm from the dryer in their mouth to keep them from screaming for help. 

“Well?” Whumpee’s friend asked. “It’s okay if you don’t like it. I’ve got plenty more where that came from. I promise I won’t be offended. That’s a new scent I’ve been working on, so it might need a bit more work.”

“No! No, I. I love it. It’s, it’s beautiful.” Whumpee’s chest clenched as they stuttered. They couldn’t let anyone see how badly they were panicking. It was stupid for them to fight to hold back tears because they smelled a candle. It was stupid. It was weak. It was dangerous. Whumpee couldn’t lose control. For months, Whumpee had been hiding away from their friends. If they backed out now, everyone would be mad at them.

The rest of the party was a blur. Whumpee couldn’t remember what had been hidden in the last two packages. It felt like eyes were everywhere, watching, waiting for them to mess up and show how pitiful Whumpee was. They could remember flinching away when Caretaker put a hand on their back to guide them back to the living room after dinner. The sound of conversation around them. The whole time, the candle sat on the coffee table next to the other gifts.

Before Whumpee knew it, they were standing in the doorway waving goodbye to the last of their guests. “Drive safe!” Caretaker called after them. “Let us know when you get home, okay?” As the front door closed, Whumpee couldn’t hold back a shudder.

Caretaker was moving. “It’s alright, Whumpee. Can you sit on the couch for me? You’re safe. It’s just us now.”

Whumpee’s legs walked them over to the couch, but they couldn’t sit. The lid was covering the candle, and yet they could still smell it. 

With several bags in hand, Caretaker entered the living room. “It was the candle, right? Whumpee, can you nod if it was the candle that triggered you? Something about the smell?”

“It smells like Whumper.” Whumpee’s throat burns as the name drops from their lips and writhes around their feet, threatening to trip them should they try to move. “It smells like their laundry.”

“Alright. Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll put it away. We can decide what to do with it once you feel better.” Caretaker picked up the candle with a bag, then double bagged it, then triple bagged it. 

With each layer separating them, Whumpee could feel the fog lifting from their mind and the weight on their chest ease up. The feeling wasn’t gone, but the panic eased enough for their muscles to loosen and Whumpee fell onto the couch. “Thank you. Thank you.” They reached out in a daze for the weighted blanket Caretaker had gifted them, and Caretaker draped the heavy fabric over their lap before Whumpee could think of standing to reach it. 

“Just relax, Whumpee. You’re safe. You did so well today. I’m proud of you.” Caretaker said as they sat on the couch a reasonable distance from Whumpee. At least, they did until Whumpee leaned closer. Permission to touch granted, Caretaker scooped Whumpee into their arms. 

[cowboyandcricket]

One of the tenets of Millennialism is a deep and abiding love for Brendan Fraser. He was the king of the late 90s/early 2000s, making hit after hit while everyone on earth fell in love with him. His career took a hard hit when he spoke out against sexual harassment in the industry and he was blacklisted for it. But now he's back, and he's still an amazing actor and we are just SO FRICKEN PROUD OF HIM. 

But obviously, nothing is quite as iconic as his 1999 performance in the absolute cinematic masterpiece, The Mummy, in which he plays an intrepid Indiana Jones style adventurer named Rick O'Connell who manages to break an ancient curse while also wooing an equally stunningly hot bookworm played by Rachel Weisz. It's an excellent film, and I know for a FACT that it turned a LOT of people my age bisexual. Those are just facts.

You can get this scent over at cowboyandcricket.com. 

[starlightmeadowbloomthesecond]

Comment what scented candle you would like to have with it for this miracle candle that’s inspired by Encanto?

[magicalshopping]

♡ Fuck It & Oh Shit Candles ♡

[rd-eternity]

Whumptober Day 29: “I only sink deeper the deeper I think.” | Scented Candle | Troubled Past Resurfacing | “What happened to me?”

Words: 4.9k

Summary: After months of living together after the war, Liam's gotten used to Theo waking in the middle of the night in terror. When one night it gets to a point Theo accidentally hurts himself, he does what he can in order to help him heal.

The mountain air barely helps.  Theo still wakes up, sweating and terrified, at least once a night, and has gotten close to hurting himself again.  He sobs while Liam holds him, until he falls back asleep.   On the third night, he manages to claw his arm open.  It’s not nearly as bad as the last time, but bad enough that he can’t get back in bed.  Liam changes the sheets and gets him a new shirt, but he refuses to get in, stays against the opposite wall like a cornered puppy.  Even Liam talking to him makes him flinch, eyes trained on the ground and away from the other. “Theo.”  He takes his hands, stepping closer to the chimera.  “It’s been months.  I need you to talk to me, I want to help you.” “You can’t,” he says.  “I know anything you say would be a lie, you said I deserved it.” Liam’s blood chills.  “What?” He wiggles from Liam’s grasp and leaves the room, the beta scrambling after him.  He catches him before the front door, pulling him to the couch.  Theo groans, finally making eye contact with him.  “It’s okay.  I deserved it then, I still deserve it now.” “No, you absolutely fucking don’t,” he says firmly, putting a hand underneath his chin, making him look at the beta.  “You’re hurting yourself, Theo.  You don’t deserve to be in this much pain, no matter what you did.” “I hurt you,” he murmurs.  “I tried forcing you to be something you’re not.  I was going to kill you. ” He blinks a few times, realization slowly dawning on him.  At the moment he said Theo deserved this, and why.  God he was so stupid.  “Where did Kira’s sword send you?” Theo shudders.  “Hell.” “No-” he stops at the dead look in the chimera’s eyes, and pulls him closer.  “Talk to me.”