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sillybouquetsoul · 11 months

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Cloud Castles - Chapter 5

Chapter 5: i will follow you into the dark (ao3 link)

Rating: Teen

Word count: 4.8k

Pairing: Aisha/Sein

Story Summary: They dance just out of each other’s reach, but each time brings them closer together.

Aisha and Sein navigate through the dark fairy tale of their own making, one encounter at a time.

Chapter Summary: The Goddess of Rot descends to Hell.

[Continuation of Cloud Castles Chapter 3 - Hades and Persephone's Twin]

Just as she predicted, Anya flies into a fit of rage. Aida cries.

But even when faced with their distress, Aisha doesn’t change her mind.

Not long after Sein left, promising to return by the next full moon to personally escort her to the underworld, the stately garden and its colorful flowers and sweet fragrances lose their appeal. The rotten core inside her becomes harder to hold back by the day, yearning to be unleashed in its full glory, and her anticipation for the next full moon continues to climb.

It’s like the God of Death has cast an invisible enchantment over her heart, mind, and spirit. Anya argues as such, accusations spilling out in a wild frenzy as she fluctuates between spitting wrathful curses on Sein’s name and beseeching Aisha to not fall for this evil God’s tricks.

Perhaps her mother has a point, but does it really matter now? Once she makes a promise with one of the Big Three, it’s nigh impossible to take back her words. Her own home stifles her powers and expression, so a change in environment may prove beneficial for her wellbeing.

Sein did promise that she can return to Earth if she wants to. He offered her a choice.

Eventually, Anya’s anger gives out. She takes Aida with her, leaving Aisha alone in the gardens, presumably to give her space, presumably hoping that her younger daughter will indeed reconsider.

Aisha does no such thing. Instead, she muses on how her mother’s first instinct is to take Aida, not Aisha away. How it’s always Aida who should be protected and not herself. How as soon as she sees that Aida is crying inconsolably, she decides that the best course of action is to comfort Aida.

How even though Aisha was the one propositioned by another God—one of the Big Three at that—Aida is always the first priority.

Rather than suspecting that Sein enchanted her through illicit means, Aisha prefers to believe that their encounter has helped open her eyes just a little more, increasing her awareness of certain things that she never questioned since young.

Anya and Aida don’t return by the next full moon. Aisha doesn’t try to find them.

Sein appears on time. He doesn’t need to break through the five layers of rot to enter the garden; since Aida isn’t around, Aisha feels no need to set up her defenses.

“Good evening, Aisha.” He greets her with a smile.

She stares at the smile, waiting for the alarm bells in her head to sound. Nothing.

Sein raises an eyebrow at her silence. He maintains his distance, but he leans forward slightly, gaze intent and probing on her face.

“Do you still recall our agreement?” He asks lightly.

Aisha nods.

“Good. I must admit that I expected your mother to come after me,” seemingly satisfied that no one else is in the garden except them, Sein straightens. “I wonder how you managed to convince her to agree.”

“I couldn’t convince her.” Aisha looks down, her stomach churning—but not because of Sein. Mostly because she’s realizing that she won’t get to say goodbye to Aida before she goes with Sein. Anya didn’t give the twins a chance to talk to each other. “She’s with Aida at the temple, I think.”

“I see.” His whisper precedes a soft swishing sound, likely from his robes as he moves.

She doesn't hear his approach until she feels cold fingers slip under her chin, tilting her face upwards. The contact is startling, and she shivers.

Never allow other Gods to touch you, especially the powerful ones, the ones you don’t know, the ones who can set you on fire with a single glance. Break away now before it’s too late.

But it’s already too late. Her mother and sister have forsaken her. And what Sein says next, using that same soft voice like he’s coaxing a dying animal to cross over the other side, only throws her thoughts into further chaos.

“You don’t have to hold back now.”

The fingers on her chin spread out, and his thumb rests atop her hammering pulse. He can easily snap her neck in this position and have her soul in his grasp. He’s a primordial God, while she’s the decaying earth under his feet, a lesser God invisible and unknown to many.

But his eyes are fixed on hers, and his touch is gentle despite its possessiveness. He seems to see through her.

“Let it go. Let the rot fester.”

It’s permission; and even if it isn’t his to give, it induces the same end result.

The tight coil in her body, which contains years and years and years worth of pent up tension, of selfless consideration for her sister, of every flower she’s seen bloom in Aida’s hand and every subsequent urge to make it rot, shatters.

A shaky sigh leaves her. Along with it, the heady smell of carrion, dried blood, and dead leaves begins to permeate the clearing. The grass beneath them goes brown before shriveling into nothing. Waves of energy ripple outwards, reducing the flora and fauna down into black soil in seconds.

It happens so quickly, too quickly, that by the time she returns to her senses, the garden around them is barren.

What has she done?

Sein, for his part, looks extremely satisfied.

A lone cloud blots out the moon, temporarily sealing away what little illumination there is. But the hungry gleam in those eyes is visible and tangible all the same.

“Where we’re headed, you’ll never need to hide yourself.”

He holds her hand as the ruined garden melts away around them. There’s a strong chance that Anya will think it’s Sein’s doing, not Aisha’s. No one has ever seen the full extent of Aisha’s powers, except for the God of Death.

She lacks the energy to care about that.

The world reforms, and then they’re standing on wet but solid rock. Sein is still holding her hand.

“Probably best to not separate, otherwise you’ll get lost.”

“I can walk on my own.” Aisha retorts, tugging her hand away. Just because she agreed to follow him to the underworld didn’t mean that he owned her, and could touch her at will.

Why he chose her remains a mystery, but if the legends about male gods taught her anything useful, it was their endless appetite—for wealth, power, and women.

Sein sighs and says nothing else as he walks on. She trails a few steps behind, senses on high alert for strange things that might leap out from the dark. Based on the bare and rocky landscape, they’re likely walking to the gates of the underworld, which are said to be the final bastion between the world of the living and the dead.

It’s strange that he doesn’t take her straight to his lair. Perhaps he thinks he’s doing her a favor by taking the more scenic route. Perhaps he’s testing her.

Perhaps he’s plotting to kill her. The chances are slim, but possible nonetheless. He’d have killed her way before this if he wanted to.

“My offer still stands,” Sein says without preamble, slowing down to match his strides with Aisha. “You’re not a prisoner of the underworld, but coming in and out of it… is tricky.”

“How so?” She asks warily.

“The earth and the underworld are two separate entities. One shouldn’t cross into the other; or rather, the living should never interfere with the dead and vice versa. Obviously, I’m the exception to the rule. But the underworld was never meant to accommodate the living.”

Aisha pauses, staring at the uneven terrain uneasily. “I’m not dead.” She says, unsure whether it’s a reminder for herself or Sein. Both, probably.

“You’re not,” Sein agrees smoothly. “which is why I will allow you a single chance to choose. You chose to descend this time, but you’ll have another chance to decide whether to stay or leave. Just one.”

“Am I the only living god that’s descended?” Surely Carlo and Nemo have descended to see Sein before. She can’t imagine Sein turning them away without good reason. The gods of Olympus have lived in peace for millennia. She can’t recall the last time the Big Three have declared war upon one another.

“You are,” the firm conviction in his tone erases all doubts from her mind. “I don’t permit anyone to set foot inside my territory. If my presence at Olympus is required, I will ascend.”

“And yet, here I am.”

“Indeed. I can hardly believe it myself.”

They reach a black gate. As Sein reaches out, his skin looking inordinately pale under the watery lighting, she hears movement and heavy breathing from the shadows. Something that sounds bigger than her and Sein.

The subsequent rumbling growl echoes off the walls, turning her blood into ice. Sein faces the source.

“Arthur.”

The growling recedes in volume. Unperturbed, Sein clicks his tongue.

“Behave. I’d like you to meet a guest of mine.”

She knows what ‘Arthur’ is, having read and heard about the massive three-headed dog that guards the gates to the underworld. But her prior knowledge proves woefully inadequate in preparing her for the real thing.

‘Arthur’ stands at an impressive height, towering over her and Sein. When it steps forward, the ground seems to tremble beneath the weight of paws that are the size of dinner plates. All three heads bear identical snarls, three sets of teeth bared, drool frothing at the corners. From the size of its maw, she thinks that each head can devour her in one bite. With three sets of eyes on her, she doesn’t quite know where to look.

“Anyone who seeks to enter the underworld must pass through Arthur first.”

She watches in amazement as the three-headed dog bends down, sniffing around Sein’s hand. There’s a small, barely-there smile on the God of Death’s face, the most genuine smile out of any that she’s seen so far. And then it hits her.

The origin of all creatures of the underworld can be traced back to the God of Death; including this deadly amalgamation of dog and beast.

If its master has already approved of her… there’s no reason why Arthur wouldn’t. Not unless Sein suddenly changes his mind and decides that he wants her dead after all. But why would he? In the past few moons, he’s had plenty of opportunities to kill her, none of which he’s acted on.

So Aisha ignores the warning bells in her head, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin high instead. She refuses to be afraid, even when faced with the tiniest possibility of death—and death is smiling next to her.

She approaches the gate. The growling escalates again as she reaches out, mirroring Sein’s earlier action. But she isn’t trying to touch the gate.

She reaches for Arthur’s closest head, hand hovering midair and waiting. She knows better than to touch an unfamiliar creature without warning. Perhaps Arthur can be reasoned with. Past the hackled fur and snarling visage, it must possess a degree of intelligence.

A pause. She hears nothing except for her quickened heartbeat. The telltale muted rumbling sound in Arthur’s throats. Seconds pass, and Arthur makes no attempt to attack. All three heads lower, noses twitching furiously. Aisha doesn’t move. She feels damp breath stirring her hair, and the softest brush of a wet nose against her head.

Then Arthur suddenly stands rigid. With a loud huff, it slinks back into its hiding place, melding seamlessly into the shadows and silence once more.

Aisha blinks the faint wetness away from her eyes. Her outstretched hand is trembling. Her knees are weak, and the only thing that keeps her standing is pure, unadulterated fear.

But that fear seems laughably insignificant compared to the proximity of death. For a moment, she saw her life flicker out like a snuffed candle flame when she reached out to Arthur.

Sein steps forward, wordlessly folding her trembling hand in his. Despite the strangely cold and clammy quality of his skin, akin to a corpse’s, Aisha doesn’t protest this time as she wills the shivers away.

He sounds almost kind. “I think you’ll fit right in.”

They slip past the gates without further fanfare. After Arthur, they don’t encounter anything else. All she hears are their footsteps echoing against the uneven ground, which eventually transitions into a cobblestone path.

Hell is dark and dreary, just as how she’s always imagined it. Under a ruby sky, the God of Death’s castle is a jagged, spiky structure that doesn’t look at all homely and welcoming. Black imposing gates surround the castle. Snarls of thorny vines are wrapped around the top of the gates, undoubtedly an added deterrent against intruders.

Is it really necessary?

Then again, it’s just how she’s always imagined.

After showing her to her quarters, and upon her prompting, the collection of dead libraries—fortunately, the libraries are located a few floors directly below her, which is great for accessibility—Sein doesn’t linger.

“I have some urgent matters to attend to. I’ll see you at dinner.”

Dinner is the last thing on Aisha’s mind the moment she sees the size of the libraries. Sein must have read her mind, because he gives her a knowing look.

“See you at dinner.” He repeats firmly.

“...see you.” She reluctantly concedes.

“Good,” Sein tilts his head to the side. “And remember what I said before?”

Aisha looks at him in confusion.

“You don’t need to hold yourself back here.”

That’s easier said than done. There’s a worn and rusted lock to the door that contains her power, and despite Sein’s express permission—no, encouragement, it’s hard to open that door.

To her, it still doesn’t seem real. It’s too good to be true. She might hurt someone or something. The image of the ruined garden resurfaces, followed by Aida’s face. Her heart twists.

“...thank you.”

Contrary to popular belief, plants do grow in Hell.

She doesn’t recognize any of them, except for the pomegranate trees. They’re small and perpetually bent over due to the amount of pomegranate fruits hanging from the branches.

On days when she wants to read outdoors, she goes to the Serpent’s Garden. The garden is filled with rows of pomegranate trees.

Pomegranates must be Sein’s favorite fruit, though she hasn’t seen him eat one yet. Eating pomegranates is normally a messy and wet affair, what with all the seeds. They stain your lips scarlet, just a few shades darker than human blood.

She knows what pomegranates signify in Hell. Once consumed—skin, flesh, seed, any part of a pomegranate really—you’re stuck here forever. An unbreakable tether forms between you and Hell, because you’ve consumed its forbidden fruit, and now you belong to the God of Death.

Sein doesn’t tell her any of this. Either he assumes that she already knew, or he intends for her to slip up and eat one. Aisha strongly suspects the latter.

Fortunately, she’s never liked pomegranates. All she’s interested in are the dead libraries, which have been a wonderful source of knowledge and entertainment so far. Other than attending dinner with Sein, she spends her waking hours poring over dead books.

Most of the dead books are in poor condition; singed pages, faded script, and missing covers across the board. But they can never be restored, because they no longer exist in reality. It’s a miracle that she even gets to access them now.

So why hasn’t Sein shown his true colors yet? There’s no conceivable reason for him to share his dead belongings without motive. He’d told her once that he wanted her to rule by his side, which presumably meant he wanted her as a wife or consort. The first out of many, Aisha imagines. And yet, except for the countless resident apparitions, his castle seems almost deserted. No other gods or goddesses roam the halls; at least, none that she’s encountered during her stay.

The notion of a celibate god is ridiculous. He must be skilled at keeping his secrets hidden.

No matter. She’s here for the books and only the books. It’s impossible to comb through all the libraries during her trial stay here, but keeping her options open seems the wiser decision. The last thing she wants is to be trapped here forever.

On Earth, Aida must be beside herself with worry. Despite the circumstances, she still misses her twin dearly.

However, the lack of floral scents is a refreshing change. Ever since Sein gave her permission to stop holding back, she lets the stench of rot and decay permeate through her personal space. The release gratifies her, though she can’t help but wonder how things would change when she returns to Earth. She won’t be able to exercise the same freedom there as she does in Hell.

Rot comes on the heels of death. Nobody ever wants to acknowledge it. The only person who acknowledges her power is Aida, and now Sein.

It’s why she relies on books. Reading books taught her that despite her unsavory image and how she would never be truly accepted among her peers, her power is still a necessary part of life. She sequesters herself away in Anya’s garden, hiding herself among the flowers and grass that barely conceals her scent.

A life spent hiding yourself away isn’t much of a life at all—she understands this better than anyone else.

Sein isn’t bothered by her rot. If anything, he seems to find pleasure in seeing her let go, little by little. Sometimes he even asks questions about the extent of her powers, seeming genuinely interested.

“I thought that the God of Death had other pastimes than spending time with me?” She says to him once, puzzled.

“You’re a guest. I’d be a terrible host if I neglected my guest, wouldn’t I?” Sein responds without missing a beat.

“Well, as you can already tell, I’m not lacking for entertainment,” Aisha gestures to the neverending shelves before returning to the current task of putting her book back. Sein can be terribly distracting sometimes (all the time).

“I promise you that I don’t feel neglected. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

She hears him sigh.

“Alright. Then what if I’m the one who feels neglected?”

“What do you mean?”

There’s the empty spot. As she nudges the books on either side farther apart to make room, Sein’s eyes appear between the gap, looking directly at her. She frowns, a little discomfited by the intent expression.

“I have no qualms with your reading. But I don’t think it’s too much to ask for a bit of your time,” He also reaches out, widening the gap between the books on his end. “Because I’d like us to get to know each other better.”

“We have dinner together every night.” She says, slotting the book in place. The shadows of the books shift. A dark, ink-like substance seeps through the base of the bookshelf, expanding upwards before reforming into his figure. He faces her, leaning a shoulder against the shelf, arms crossed.

“You read during dinner as well.” He reminds her.

This gives her pause, swiftly followed by guilt.

He’s right. It didn’t occur to her how inconsiderate she comes across, outright ignoring him in the only hour they’re in each other’s company. As Sein already made clear: he’s the host, and she’s his guest. He visits the libraries to check on her periodically, but she doesn’t reciprocate.

Even though she’s constantly wary and on guard, he hasn’t yet given her a compelling reason to question him. The rumors still live in the back of her mind, of course; but shutting him out may lead to more harm than good, and who knows how he’ll react when angered.

“I apologize,” she says as she turns to him, contrite. “I didn’t realize that it bothered you so.”

Sein waves a flippant hand. “I’m not bothered. Maybe a tad disappointed. Books are surely interesting, but not everyone gets to experience life in the underworld firsthand. I can say for certain that this—” he sweeps an arm around them. “—isn’t written down anywhere.”

He taps the spine of a book, those long, dark nails stark against the slate gray surface.

“I merely suggest splitting your time between different things; my libraries aren’t going anywhere, so get your nose out of books for a bit and live a little more. You have the entire underworld at your disposal; why not make the most out of it?”

She lifts her gaze to meet his. It took a few days before she discovered that his eyes aren’t black, as she was led to believe during their first meetings in the dark; instead, the color lands in between hazel and olive green—reminiscent of Earth’s gardens shaped by Anya and Aida’s hands.

“So I can ask about anything?”

He smirks, hearing the challenge in her tone.

“By all means.”

The next night, Aisha arrives at the dining room empty-handed. If ‘getting to know each other’ is what he wants, then it’s what he’ll get.

Except not in the way he may have expected. She intends to test his boundaries.

“I’ve been curious about something for a while.”

Sein looks pleased with her initiative. He folds both hands under his chin and leans forward in rapt attention. In that moment, she can almost believe that she holds more power than he does.

“Most gods keep regular company to warm their beds,” that’s a nicer way of saying most gods are lecherous bastards with zero self-control. “Where do you keep yours?”

The question doesn’t faze him. Instead, a smile breaks across his face. The silence drags on until she fidgets in her seat and looks away, a strange warmth flooding her cheeks.

Then, calmly, “In the library.”

(Suffice to say that her first attempt backfires. Sein eventually tells her that he doesn’t have anyone to warm his bed.)

“Why is this place called the Serpent’s Garden?” Aisha wonders aloud. They’re strolling through the garden, an activity that Sein suggested after dinner.

“Do you know about the story of Adam and Eve?”

“Yes.”

As most stories go, the story of the first humans ends on a bittersweet note. But Aisha always thought that although Eve was tempted to sin, the price she paid was worth the knowledge she and Adam gained in the end. Heaven, or Olympus, is ill-suited for humanity. They thrive well enough without the gods’ interference.

“This garden is the Serpent’s final resting place. He was sentenced to Hell, so he came to me.”

Most of the dead don’t get a garden named after them in Sein’s castle. They cross over to the underworld and are sent to the river of souls immediately, where they stay for eternity.

“He was a minor god. He didn’t immediately die from his wounds, even though they were very severe.” Sein’s lips twist, as though living through an unpleasant memory. “When he finally passed on, pomegranates grew from his grave. I didn’t have the heart to remove them, and this space eventually became a garden.”

Sensing that she shouldn’t continue this line of questioning—Sein isn’t enthused about the topic—Aisha touches a low-hanging pomegranate. Its skin is waxy and smooth to the touch, glistening jewel red.

“How do the pomegranates taste?”

In answer, Sein plucks the pomegranate. He makes quick work slicing the pomegranate apart with his nails, revealing the wet and juicy flesh interior. His fingers are stained crimson.

He doesn’t offer her the fruit.

“I imagine they taste like sin, but what do I know?”

She learns that Sein enjoys reading nearly as much as she does. But unlike her, he’s had lifetimes to read through his extensive collection.

He reads faster than her; each time he’s at the library, he puts down his book in a quarter of the time it takes for Aisha to finish hers. Upon finding out her favorite genres, he occasionally gives recommendations, stating that they would suit her taste.

(He hasn’t proved her wrong yet.)

“I wish I had my own library.”

“Does Anya not have one?”

“No.”

Neither Anya nor Aida enjoy reading. Some days they even try to dissuade her from reading, claiming that she should take a break from reading because what can you find in books that you can’t find in real life, Aisha?

Everything, Aisha thinks. Fiction provides escape into the fantastical lives of characters with different joys and woes. Some of them she loves and relates to, while some of them she despises with a fiery passion, but they all make her feel. Conversely, non-fiction educates her about life on Earth, humanity’s scientific principles, philosophies, and various belief systems. She learns how to discern facts based on data and research, a concept foreign to deities. If there’s one thing humans are good at, it’s picking things apart to understand them fully.

“No, my mother prefers Aida and I to focus on… on beautifying nature.” Not that she’s remotely capable of doing that.

Sein hums. “How dull.”

“Aida is wonderful at what she does. But since I couldn’t do that, I turned to books to pass time. Haven’t stopped reading since. My mother still doesn’t approve.”

“Your mother is a fool.”

The insult takes her by surprise, and she snorts. “She has her ways.”

Sein isn’t amused, though. He clicks his tongue and puts the book down. Like her, he’s fond of fairy tales.

(The tales without happy endings.)

“I knew I had my eye on the right goddess.”

“You know, you’ve never mentioned how you got to know me.”

“I didn’t? Must have slipped my mind,” his eyes drift upwards, losing focus. “It might have been a few years ago. Springtime.”

She sets her book down to listen.

“I’ve heard plenty about Aida. My brothers are obsessed with her, as they are with any young woman, goddess or not. I usually don’t engage in their games, least of all when women are involved. I barely tolerate their company, let alone their childish fights. It drains me.

“Then out of nowhere, Carlo mentions Aida’s twin. My older brother isn’t picky with women, so I expected him to say something along the lines of choosing you if Aida weren’t an option. Imagine my surprise when he spoke of you with disgust, complaining that you reeked of rot and decay, and that he couldn’t get close to Aisha without you standing in his way. Nemo wasn’t as vocal as Carlo, but I could tell he was wary of you as well.”

He stretches out, draping an arm over the back of the armchair, fingers scant inches away from her hair. She stays put.

“Naturally, my curiosity was piqued. So I went looking for you.”

Surprisingly, Carlo’s negative comments don’t bother her. Others have said worse, and their words wear out overtime. She understands why people hate her, even if it’s for something beyond her control.

“And?” She prompts.

“And what?”

“Has your opinion of me changed in any way since?”

Then she feels it: a gentle tug on her hair.

“It’s definitely changed for the better.”

The dead body in front of her looks nothing like the picture on the coffin.

“Have you seen this before?” Sein asks kindly.

“No.”

She has a vague idea of why he brought her to a mortuary. Every part of her body is buzzing, restless for action. What kind of action, she doesn’t know.

“What happens after a soul leaves its body?”

She squints at him, wondering if he’s fooling around.

“Please bear with me.” He says.

“The soul goes to the underworld, and the body rots.”

“What is your power?”

“I…” Realization dawns on her. “I create rot.”

“Yes. Do you remember what you did to your mother’s garden?”

(She consciously tries not to remember.)

“You can use your powers here, on this corpse and its coffin. You’re allowed to.”

She looks at her hands in disbelief, then back at him. Sein nods.

This, Aisha thinks as she touches the coffin, which instantly blackens and crumbles, a pungent smell wafting outwards—

This is what freedom feels like.

During dinner that night, she bites into a pomegranate in front of him.

He disappears from his seat, dark shadows streaking across the dining table to where she is, and reappears next to her. Cold and clammy hands cradle her face—like that full moon night from so long ago—and then he kisses her fiercely. The pomegranate seeds are drops of acidic nectar, sliding down her throat, some spilling past her parted lips, no doubt leaving a bloody trail in their wake, and she thinks,

This is what freedom tastes like.

#aisha manhua #aisha #sein #aisha x sein #aisha/sein #aisha and sein are immortals here #fanfiction #ongoing #cloud castles #chapter 5

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steampunkskulls · 9 months

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Aisha chapter 42, in the original Chinese text, the line "如果你不想要，可以私奔。" is translated in the English version as "If you don’t want to, you can run away from home." The latter part of the sentence leans towards "running away from home." While the author's intention might indeed be related to running away from home, she specifically chose the term "私奔" which means "elope" This choice adds a certain significance. English readers might not find anything particularly special at this point, but Chinese readers encountering the word "私奔" would feel a sense of ambiguity. In Chinese, "私奔" doesn't just mean "running away from home" – it mostly describes "a woman eloping with her lover despite opposition." It can only be considered elopement if there is a lover involved. The author's use of this term here truly amused me, making me think, "Sean, what exactly are you implying?" 😂😂

在Aisha第42話裡，這幕西恩原文中文是說「如果你不想要，可以私奔。」，我看了英文翻譯版的，卻翻成”If you don’t want to, you can run away from home.”，後面那句的意思是偏向於「離家出走」，雖然作者想表達的意思或許是離家出走，但她偏偏選了「私奔」這個詞，我覺得頗有意味。英文讀者們或許讀到這裡時沒有什麼特別的感覺，但中文讀者看到「私奔」這個詞會覺得很曖昧，因為「私奔」在中文裡並不是單純的「離家出走」的意思，它更多是在描述「女性不顧反對，私自與愛人逃走」必須有愛人這個對象才能叫做私奔，而作者在這裡選用這個詞，真的是讓我姨母笑，想說西恩你這傢伙到底是在暗示什麼。😂😂

我用chatGPT幫我中翻英😂

#aisha manhua #aisha #Aisha manga #Sein x aisha

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inzsanewrites · 1 year

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AISHA Sein Headcanons

Honestly it’s mental gymnastics 25/8

You have to be your guard not for your own sake but someone else’s when ever he says something a little too courteous

He’s a little overprotective in a scheming way as in if someone messes with you he plays the long game of suffering to nip them in the butt

It’s not really a requirement but it would be nice if you got along with Aisha or at least Nemo

If you’re a dog person you’re free to play with Arthur, but if you prefer cats he’ll go out of his way to borrow Aisha and Aida’s cat for you

Would 200% do something illegal for you, you don’t even need to ask

It’s okay if you don’t understand his double meanings or see through his lies but if you can you should be very concerned

One large thing is that Sein has yandere traits that stick out like a sore thumb when he’s not careful and that’s your problem now

Get a little too annoyed with his tricks and he’ll keep it subtle and more hidden

He’s a bit doting in the way he’s always asking you what you want before he’ll make weird events happen and whatever you wanted just ends up right in your arms

PDA is limited as in his time period the most he would do is offer you his arm

Whenever you talk to long to someone or seem are little too interested he cuts in (like a gentleman) and politely ‘asks’ to be a part of the discussion

It is jealousy? You don’t know because he’ll either outright say it or be all cryptic about someone’s hand accidentally going a little lower than expected

Even if you have an IQ of 210 don’t try to figure out his motive because it’s just confusing as hell

A/N: This is adult Sein and I used Sein instead of Sean because I prefer the spelling ( ◕‿‿◕ )

#aisha manhwa #Aisha #sein x reader aisha #Sein x reader #manhwa x reader #manhua x reader #aisha manga #headcanons

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pomegranate-pen · 6 months

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.... Would anyone read a long fic of Sein Durant (from the Aisha manhua) x gn detective reader or should I just shut up and stick to my sonic and lackadaisy fics? (I promise I'll get to them soon!!! T-T)

#starlight speaks #aisha manhua #manhua #help me why do I always pick the dead fandoms to write for oh my god #first it was aqua now this guy #i need proof that people will read it before i write it #(pls tell me you'll read it pls pls pls-)#sein aisha #sein durant #sein durant x reader #sein aisha x reader

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wifesharing-blog-de · 1 year

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Unrealistische Leistung

»Jetzt will ich wissen, was der Vogel wirklich drauf hat!« Sagte Viper und hielt den Mach-Meter fest im Blick. Die Schubkraftregler standen auf Anschlag, die Luft in dieser Höhe war sehr dünn. Mit den alten Triebwerken war hier eine Geschwindigkeit von mehr als der fünffachen Schallgeschwindigkeit möglich. Schon beim Start und dem Steigflug hatte sich aber abgezeichnet, dass der bisherige Rekord der Maschine jedoch fallen könnte. Dreifache Schallgeschwindigkeit bei einem solch radikalen Steigflug deutete auf jeden Fall daraufhin. Die Frage war nur, wohin würde sich die Grenze verschieben? »Mach vier!« Meldete Aisha. Benjamin zitterten die Hände vor Aufregung. Er schaute dabei weniger auf die Anzeige, sondern mehr auf Mario. Der hingegen hatte seine ganzen Anzeigen und Kontrollen fest im Blick. Dauernd wanderte sein Blick zu den vielen Zahlen, die ihm seine Station anzeigte und er schien ebenfalls eine gewisse Aufregung zu verspüren. »Mach fünf!« Kam schon relativ bald von Aisha. »Jetzt wird es spannend!« Merkte Viper an und sein Kopf bewegte sich ein wenig auf den Mach-Meter zu. Dieser drehte sich unaufhörlich weiter. Anscheinend nicht mehr ganz so schnell, wie von Mach vier auf fünf, doch schien er noch nicht an anhalten zu denken. Wenn Benjamin es richtig sah, schaute Mario immer wieder zu einer bestimmten Anzeige. Die Temperatur der Aussenhaut der Maschine. Auch die stieg kontinuierlich an und hatte schon über 300 Grad Celsius erreicht. »Probleme Mario?« »Nein Ben. Noch nicht!« Das beruhigte Benjamin etwas. Er war ja nicht gerade dumm und verstand genug von Physik um zu wissen, dass die steigende Geschwindigkeit eine immer grössere Reibung der Luft an den ihr ausgesetzten Teilen der Maschine bewirkte, was ein immer schnelleres Ansteigen der Temperatur zur Folge hatte. Er wusste, dass Aisha den Vogel gegen so etwas präpariert hatte, doch wo die Grenze lag, dass wusste er nicht. »Mach sechs!« War Aishas nächste Ansage. Ihre Stimme schien dabei etwas aufgeregter als zuvor. »Okay Leute. Damit würde ich mal sagen, haben wir die letzten Zweifel wegen dem neuen Antrieb ausgeräumt.« Viper schien zufrieden, behielt die Anzeige trotzdem noch im Blick. Sie kletterte weiter, hatte jedoch schon schon wieder viel an Tempo verloren. Es herrschte Stille im Cockpit. Aisha und Viper klebten am Mach-Meter, Mario immer mehr an der Temperaturanzeige, während er von Benjamin mit Argusaugen beobachtet wurde. Er hatte den Eindruck, die Zeit, welche die Maschine zum beschleunigen brauchte, verdoppelte sich seit Mach drei jedes Mal. »Mach sieben!« Marios Blick klebte mittlerweile an der Temperatur. »Mach Feierabend!« Rief er. »Warum? Da geht noch was!« »Klar Viper! Wir sind bei über 700 Grad Celsius und wenn du so weiter machst, fangen die Kanten an zu schmelzen! Also wenn du nicht erleben willst, wie die Nase weg fliegt, oder die Tragen abbrechen, machst du jetzt Schluss!« »Ach Mario, sei mal cool!« »Nein, er hat Recht Viper! Wir sind schon über der Sicherheitstoleranz! Nimm den Schub zurück, oder ich mache es!« Benjamin spannte sich an. Auch für ihn war die Temperatur erschreckend hoch und da er nicht wusste, mit welchem Material das Flugzeug konstruiert worden war, machte er sich grosse Sorgen. »Ihr seit echte Spassbremsen!« Knurrte Viper und zog die Schubkraftregler zurück. Der Mach-Meter stoppte und fing an sich in die entgegengesetzte Richtung zu drehen. »Was heisst Spassbremse? Ich hab keine Lust, wie ein Meteor zu verglühen!« »Ach komm schon. Noch ein bisschen und wir hätten den Weltrekord der X-15 geknackt.« Aisha schaute zu Viper. »Dir ist aber klar, dass die X-15 damals einen ablativen Hitzeschild hatte und trotzdem ein Totalschaden war, als sie wieder gelandet ist? Mach dir mal keine Sorgen. Der Rekord wird fallen. Ich hab schon ein paar Ideen, wie wir das mit der Temperatur abmildern können.« »Wasserkühlung?« Fragte Mario. »Genau. Wir haben immerhin noch viele Tanks an Board, die wir ja nicht mehr nutzen. Pumpen sind auch vorhanden. Also sollten wir daraus ein Kühlsystem bauen können. An allen Teilen, die besonders betroffen sind. Brauchen wir nur noch einen Wärmetauscher.« »Rumpf und Tragflächen?« »Rumpf sollte reichen, schätze ich mal.« Benjamin verstand den Plan noch nicht so ganz, doch die Temperatur kletterte nicht weiter und fing sogar an langsam zu sinken. Überraschenderweise verzichtete Viper auf Kunstflug. Er brachte die Maschine zu ihrem Flugplatz zurück und brachte sie in den Landeanflug. Die Bahn war schon voraus und die Höhe auf unter 500 Fuss gesunken. »Bevor wir landen will ich aber noch etwas wissen.« »Was denn?« Fragte Mario. »Wie sich die Kiste verhält, wenn ich kurz vor dem Aufsetzen wieder vollen Schub gebe.« In ihrer Eigenschaft als Co-Pilot behielt Aisha die Anzeigen im Blick. »Warum?« »Weil ich die Durchstartfähigkeit wissen will.« Da keine Einwände erhoben wurden, machte sich Benjamin keine Sorgen. Er wartete ab, während Aisha die Höhe runterzählte. »50, 40, 30, 20« Zählte sie, was ein baldiges Aufsetzen ankündigte. Doch bei zehn drückte Viper die Schubkraftreglern wieder nach vorne und zog die Nase hoch. Die Beschleunigung war übertrieben. Benjamin wurde in die Rückenlehne und die Sitzfläche gepresst. So stark, dass die Haut in seinem Gesicht nach unten und hinten gezogen wurde und er aussah wie ein schmelzendes Monster. Dann gingen bei ihm die Lichter aus. Als er wieder zu sich kam, verstand er zuerst gar nicht, was eigentlich los war. Die Maschine schien sehr langsam zu sein und zu rollen. »Sind wir gelandet?« Fragte er mit schwacher Stimme. Viper lachte. »Guten Morgen! Haben wir gut geschlafen?« »Sehr komisch. Wirklich sehr komisch!« Knurrte Benjamin. »Mach dir nichts draus Ben. Ich hab es auch nur knapp überstanden.Das war deutlich heftiger, als ich gedacht habe.« »Irre war es! Vom langsamen Landeanflug übergangslos zur Rakete. Das Ding ist der helle Wahnsinn!« Aisha nickte ihm zustimmend zu. Ein paar Minuten später hatte die Maschine ihre Parkposition erreicht und es ging los mit der Checkliste zum abschalten. Benjamin, der dabei nicht helfen konnte, schnallte sich ab und ging nach hinten. Der Test war ein voller Erfolg und er wollte nun die Meinung von Waldemar wissen, der mit den Mädels hinten gesessen hatte. Doch als er die Kabine erreichte, klatschte Jana immer wieder auf Waldemars Wange. Nicht gerade zimperlich. »Was ist denn hier los?« Kim schien amüsiert. »Das Hündchen hält nichts aus. Das ist passiert. Der hat eben kurz gejammert, seither ist er weggetreten.« Benjamin wusste nicht genau, ob er amüsiert oder besorgt sein sollte. Er hatte jedoch eine Idee. »Geh ihm an den Schwanz Jana!« Die schaute kurz zu Benjamin und griff Waldemar dann wirklich in den Schritt. Seine Augen öffneten sich weit. Doch anstatt zu Meutern packte er Jana an ihrem Assi-Dutt, zog sie an sich heran und drückte ihr die Zunge. Jana wehrte sich. »Hallo? Gehts noch?« Waldemar schaute sich verwirrt um, schüttelte sich dann und sein Gesicht wurde gewohnt emotionslos. »Entschuldige, liebe Jana. Ich habe das Gefühl, in mir hat sich für ein kurzer Moment der Überlebensinstinkt gemeldet.« Read the full article

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piasgermany · 4 years

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[Album] SONIKKU kündigt erstes Album an und veröffentlicht Video

Der Londoner DJ SONIKKU aka Tony Donson hat sein Debütalbum “Joyful Death” für den 17.April (digital only) via Bella Union angekündigt. Als kleinen Vorgeschmack auf das Album veröffentlicht SONIKKU das Musikvideo zu “Remember to Forget Me”.

Zusammen mit seinem guten Freund Douglas Dare arbeitete der Londoner Produzent an der Single. Über die persöhnliche Bedeutung von “Remember to Forget Me” erzählt Sonikku: “Douglas helped me write it by treating the writing session like a therapy session. Then I showed the song to Chester and we recorded it in LA with the help of HANA who engineered the session. The song goes out to the people who get slightly crazy when they’re in love. The chorus is an oxymoron reminding someone they should forget you - which in itself is completely narcissistic and something only someone on the brink of heartbreak would say.”

Das Musikvideo zu “Remember to Forget Me” wurde von dem queeren Tanzkollektiv Pierre & Baby produziert. Sie tanzen eine intime Performance in einem leeren Raum. Der Song verbindet Italo-House Beats mit dem klaren Gesang von Chester Lockhart.

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Durch “Joyful Death” hat Sonikku seinen musikalischen Weg gefunden. Vor seiner Karriere als Musiker absolvierte er mehrere Praktika in der Musikbranche und legte als DJ in LGBTQ Clubs auf. Mit der Hilfe seiner Freunde und Gastmusikern gelingt es ihm, ein selbstbewusstes Zeichen als ernstzunehmender Musiker zu setzen. Zu “Joyful Death” erzählt Tony Donson, das Gesicht hinter Sonikku: “This album feels like a transformation in the sense that I’m creating the music I’ve always wanted to make. A fully realised, coherent pop record that showcases my craft as a song-writer and producer.”

Tracklist: 1. Let The Light In (feat. Douglas Dare) 2. WKND (feat LIZ) 3. Don't Wanna dance With You (feat Aisha Zoe) 4. Sweat (feat LIZ) 5. X Hopeless Romantic (Feat Little Boots) 6. Remember To Forget Me (feat Chester Lockhart) 7. Joyful Death (feat Tyler Mather Oyer) 8. Remember 2 Forget Me (Piano Version) (feat Douglas Dare)

Presse + Online: [email protected] Radio: [email protected] | [email protected]

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#sonikku #joyful death #bella union #album #digital only

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mezitli33 · 5 years

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ELSWORD DOWNLOADEN

Elsword Schwertkämpfer Aisha Magierin Rena Bogenschützin und Raven Schwertkämpfer Wenn man den Charakter ausgewählt hat, kommt man in ein Tutorial, in dem die grundlegenden Szteuerungselemente erklärt werden, die leicht zu verstehen sind. Ich persönlich mag so etwas nicht. Dies ist eine Eigenschaft die nur von den anderen Original-Charakteren geteilt wird. Seine einzige Schwäche ist Magie, doch seiner Ansicht nach kann nichts gegen ein scharfes Stück Stahl gewinnen. Dorf des Kalluso-Stamms Erstellt ein Cover bzw. Ich habe mir sogar 3 Charakter erstellt, weil ich mich zwischen ihnen nicht entscheiden konnte.

Name: elsword Format: ZIP-Archiv Betriebssysteme: Windows, Mac, Android, iOS Lizenz: Nur zur personlichen verwendung Größe: 28.91 MBytes

Das Spiel ist recht niedlich gemacht, aber ein eindeutiges Pay to Win, was ich recht schade finde, es könnte wirklich mehr bringen, wenn es nicht so wäre. Dies ist eine Eigenschaft die nur von den anderen Original-Charakteren geteilt wird. Alle Artikel zu Elsword. Aber sonst gibt es eigentlich fast nur nette Mitspieler. Er kann nicht nur austeilen, sondern ebenfalls eine Menge einstecken. Zurzeit gibt es 5 Charaktere:

Schrein im Wassertempel 7-X: Dorf des Kalluso-Stamms Was mich allerdings stört ist die nicht vorhandene Abwechslung, oder Ermutigung einen Dungeon zu spielen. Camillas Buch der Geheimnisse Anfänger wird benötigt um diesen Skill freizuschalten.

Das sind die Gewinner. Stadtrand von Lysia Himmlische Liebe Partnerring wird benötigt um diesen Skill freizuschalten. Elsword elswoord nie langweilig, da es einen elswor, sehr tollen Look hat. Kontaminierte Zone Peita Man kann dort mit bis zu 4 Leuten in sogenannte Dungeons gehen und dort Gegner und Bosse besiegen.

Der Spieler landet in einer Welt, auf die kaum eingegangen wird und die man demnach nicht kennt oder kennenlernt.

Elsword – alle Infos bei

Elseord der Rückkehr Aber auch weil man nicht lange braucht, bis ein Charakter Level 50 ist Ich persönlich eleword so etwas nicht. Diese Charaktere entwickeln sich im Laufe des Spiel weiter, und können verschiedene Wege einschlagen. In Dlsword kann elswodr aber nicht nur in Dungeons gehen, sondern auch auf sogenannten „Feldern“ gegen Gegner kämpfen.

Insgesamt wird es bei Elsword 6 Charaktere geben, auch wenn erst 4 elsworf den deutschen Servern angekommen sind. Echt gutes Spielerlebnis, aber wenig E,sword.

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Skills sind gut dargestellt und abwechlungsreich. Alles in alles ist Elsword ein geniales Spiel im Manga-Style, da man es einfach n nur weiterempfehlen kann.

Das Spiel ist recht niedlich gemacht, aber ein eindeutiges Pay to Win, was ich eleword schade finde, es könnte wirklich mehr bringen, wenn es nicht so wäre.

Hier wiederum eosword man erwähnen, dass elsworx Charaktere sehr unbalanced sind – und selbst nach unzähligen Versuchen kriegt KoG‘ das Balancing nicht auf die Reihe Das PvP-System hat mir früher besser gefallen, aber es ist immer noch gut. Die ist echt gut umgesetzt, das muss man KoG‘ lassen.

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Ist diese Meinung hilfreich? Die Aura der Vitalität und die Aura der Zerstörung. Dies macht das Kämpfen spannender als einfach nur einen Gegner anklicken zu müssen, damit er automatisch angegriffen wird.

Sie benutzt einen Zauberstab und Magie.

Ich würde sagen Elsword ist ein gut bis sehr gutes MMoRpg. Die Charakter absolvieren auch Klassenwechsel insgesamt 2 Stück dort muss man elsworf entscheiden zu werlcher Klasse man beim ersten Klassenwechsel wechsel möchte.

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Auch eine Fernkämpferin, jedoch kämpft sie mit dem Bogen. Ein starkes Kriterium habe ich jedoch, und zwar den Sound. Elsword commander giga am Sie benutzt einen Bogen und Kicks.

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Das Kampfsystem eignet sich hierfür elswodr und es gibt ein Combo-System, das dafür sorgen sollte, dass du auch etwas tun musst, um deinen Gegner zu besiegen und nicht wahllos irgendwelche Knöpfe drücken.

The post ELSWORD DOWNLOADEN appeared first on Mezitli.

source http://mezitli.info/elsword-60/

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monotheismus · 6 years

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Über das Kreuz an den Möbeln

Falls jemand nicht weiß, was das Problem mit den Kreuzen dieser Art ist…dann soll er zuerst diesen Link anklicken und den Text gut durchlesen, in dem es erklärt worden ist.

Den Tawhid ernst zu nehmen ist sehr wichtig. Und der Islam ist der einzige gültige Maßstab für alle Bereiche des Lebens.

Deswegen, gibt es bei den Möbeln in den eigenen vier Wänden keine Ausnahme.

Oft sind die Schrauben/Nägel an den Möbeln so montiert, dass sie kein Kreuz ergeben, sondern ein X.

Und wenn eine von ihnen in der Position von einem Kreuz ist: ist die leichteste Lösung in sha'a Allah, sie einfach zu überkleben. Oder sie einfach mit einer Schlitzschraube zu wechseln.

‘Aisha (rh) berichtete, dass der Prophet (Allahs Segen und Heil seien auf ihm) niemals etwas in seiner Wohnung sah, auf dem es Kreuze gab, ohne dass er dies entfernte. (Überliefert bei Al-Bukhariyy 5952)

Abu al-Habbadj al-Assadi überliefert: Ali bin Abi Talib sagte zu mir: „Soll ich dir denselben Auftrag geben, den Allahs Prophet [Muhammad], Allahs Segen und Heil seien auf ihm, mir gegeben hat? Du musst jede Götze vernichten (oder unkenntlich machen). Du musst jedes Grab, das sich über die Erde erhebt, dem Erdboden gleich machen.“ (Überliefert bei Al-Bukhariyy)

Wer ein Kufr-Symbol auf seiner Kleidungsstück oder auf seinen Möbeln hat, und dies nicht ändert, der bringt mindestens seine äußere Akzeptanz und Zufriedenheit zum Ausdruck, wenn nicht sogar seine Liebe und Verherrlichung. Ansonsten würde man niemals diese Symbole einfach so dort stehen lassen.

#Über das Kreuz an den Möbeln

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peach-teea · 1 year

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ᴍᴀʏ ʙᴇ ᴏᴏᴄ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ꜰᴇᴍ, ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴀꜱ ᴍɪᴅ/ʟᴏɴɢ ʜᴀɪʀ, ꜱᴇʟꜰ ɪɴᴅᴜʟɢᴇɴᴛ ꜰɪᴄ- ɪᴛ'ꜱ ꜱᴇʟꜰ ɪɴꜱᴇʀᴛ

Heavy breathing was all that could be heard in the otherwise silent, dim room. Most candles had already gone out, showing how much time has already passed. Meanwhile two bodies, laying beside each other on a messy bed tired from activities that should be reserved for married couples. Accepting each others flaws and imperfections. Really, he never thought he'd ever feel so happy.

This wasn't his first time. His first time was... not pleasant to say. And he didn't want to taint the atmosphere any more by these thoughts. All he wanted to think about was you. Oh how he loved thinking about you. You were his weakness. But also his strength. Always there to hold him up when he himself couldn't. And he knows he'd do the same for you.

But he craved being intimate with the person he has had feelings for, for a long time. Which was you. The one person he loved. And now that it happened he can't be more happy that your relationship is even deeper now. Not to say he still got his... cravings for you. Now even more than ever.

But looking at your tired but dreamy face, he'll wait... perhaps in the morning you would want to again?

However first things first he wants you to sleep, you're his pretty little dove and he doesn't want you to be tired.

Taking you by your hand he pulls you in to lay on his chest.

You laughed as you put your arm around his stomach and your head on his chest.

"What's so funny?" He furrowed his brows

The laugh ceased and you looked at him with your tired yet wanton eyes.

"Nothing, its just that I'm happy" He smiled and kissed your bare shoulder

"Me too, my dove"

A/N- due to lack of fics for my fav manhwa i decided that ill write some lil pieces! However portraying Sein is hard, he's got such mysterious personality🤔

#aisha manhua #fa ji te #sean x aisha #ayesha's secret #ayeshah’s secret #ayesha manhua #sean #sein #aisha x sein #zhang jing #manhua #manhwa #aida #fic #imagine #fanfic #x reader #not requested

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peach-teea · 9 months

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ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ: ᴄᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ʙᴀʟʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʙᴇɢɪɴꜱ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴇᴀɴ ʙᴜᴛ ɢᴇᴛꜱ ꜱᴛᴏᴘ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀ ᴅʀᴜɴᴋ ᴅᴜᴋᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴀꜱᴋɪɴɢ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴜɴᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴛʀɪᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴜᴋᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ʜᴀʀᴀꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴇᴀɴ ꜱᴘᴏᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ

i hope the story is to your liking! @adalia-world

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏ/ɴ?, ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴇʟꜱᴇ!

The coming of age ball. Some girls were looking forward to it. Some were dreading it. Mostly because it was expected to find a husband. Which you weren't exactly... comfortable with. You felt happy the way you were. You don't need a man. You can hear your mothers sigh at that.

The preparations for the ball were... quite exhausting to say. The dress you've chosen was beautiful, your favorite color too. However the tailor was quite snappy so the fittings were hellish. The ballroom looked amazing. Decorated with flowers and other decorum, however your mothers snapping at every servant was... also quite exhausting.

As your mother says, this is one of the most important nights of your life. Your job is to look pretty and find a husband, nothing else. The thought brought nausea to your stomach though. You're not able to imagine a life with someone just because of money. Especially with the way those wealthy men treat their wives. It's still better than being on the streets but, if you can you'll marry out of love. You already have your eyes on your childhood best friend. But there's no way he reciprocates your feelings...

Your neck adorned with precious gems, dress made out of the finest fabrics, shoes from the best shoemaker and hair decorated with pins. Your beauty made even the more.... uninterested suitors as to say, interested.

They all came here for you, problem is, all they saw until now was a picture. That was from when you were 13 so you weren't blaming them for their shock as you entered the ballroom.

Your target was clear though. Sean. You have to find your best friend. Looking around didn't bring any fruit though. You've decided to walk to the table with drinks. Maybe you'll find him there. And taking a sip of something wouldn't hurt either, would it now.

You stood by the table still as you were sipping on your wine. As you lower the glass your eyes finally catch Sean. But just as you have your eyes set on him your view gets blocked. What in the-

"My lady" an older looking man says, as he bents down and grabs your hand slowly kissing it. He looked and smelled as if he already had more than his share of the wine...

"My lord, what do I owe the pleasure?"

He smiles, his touch now feeling slimey "My lady, I was blown away by your beauty, would be shame if you didnt dance with me,... maybe even take me to your rooms after" his hand was sliding up your arm, this was highly innapropriate, looking for your mother was useless though as she was probably just talking with some wealthy folks

The way his eyes were slipping to your cleavage every few moments was very uncomfortable. And also. He was old. At first you thought he could be your father but honestly up close more like your grandfather. Beard and hair with white streaks with crows feet near his eyes and wrinkles on his forehead... You didn't know what to do. Denying a dance was impolite, especially when you were looking for a husband. But honestly you couldn't even imagine this man as your husband. Your thoughts spiralling into the worst scenarios. When a familiar voice interrupted your conundrum.

"I'm very sorry, but Lady y/n already promised me the first dance. Isn't that right?" Sean, always coming to your rescue was looking at you with his usual smile.

"Yes, yes I did. I'm sorry but Ill have to decline your request." The dukes mouth opened again as if he wanted to say something but you couldn't catch any words as Sean took your hand and led you away.

"Are you alright?" Sean asked as he was taking you to the dance floor as you assumed the positions to dance.

"Yes, I mean I wasn't, but I am now."

"I'm glad. You looked like a spooked doe back there with him. Had to go save you." You couldn't read his face, it was his usual smirk but... with a hint of softness. Something that's quite rare on his face.

"I could've dealt with him. I just needed a little bit more time-"

"I know you could little doe. Maybe i just wanted to save you to feel like the prince charming. Saving his princess. Just like in the fairytales."

"You're quite cheesy today." You retort, suspicious of his sweet words.

"Maybe i just don't want you to get married to these dense lords. They wouldn't... they wouldn't see you the way I do." You wanted him to say more. To explain himself. What did he mean. How does he see you? Does he reciprocate your feelings? But the dance ended. And you had to dance with other men too.

Your mother was pushing you to dance with more estabilished and wealthy men. After dancing the night away though you had enough. The conversation you had with Sean laying heavy on your mind.

The ball hadn't ended yet, but you excused yourself and went to get some air in the gardens. Walking around the rose bushes was your favorite. They looked radiant red under the moonlight. You could feel warmth on your shoulder. You'd swear you almost had a heartattack when you looked and saw it was actually Sean touching it.

"Are you still alright? My lady," asking once again, this time you didn't know what to answer

"Of course" lie. You could see on his face that he knows. His eyebrows furrowed and then raised questionably.

You sigh, "alright alright, I'm not doing the best but I'm ok alright?"

"Is something bothering you, little doe?" He finally tooks his hand off your shoulder, damn you actually miss it now, hoping he'd maybe offer his arm to hold

"I just, I don't know. My mother hoped to find me a wealthy, succesful husband. But none of the men i danced with today seem like good choices for me. For my mother yes, but not for me." He frowned at that.

"Not even me?" You could feel your heart almost stopping. He's really going to give you a heartattack this way.

"I mean- you. We..." ... "did you just- offer yourself to be my husband? Did you just propose?"

"Why did you think I came here for, y/n?"

"I don't know, moral support?" At least you made him smile

"My little doe, you know everything about me. Ive told you my deepest secrets. My hopes and dreams. My plans. And yet you're blind to see how I feel towards you. How could I take any other woman for a wife other than you?" Seans voice slowly went out into the night. Stepping closer towards you as he places his hand on your cheek and lays his forehead on yours.

"Y/n, can I kiss you?" the request was quiet, almost as if he was afraid of the rejection

"Yes" whispering into his lips as you connect yours with them. The kiss was soft. Your first. It felt calming. He was here. And not going anywhere. He was yours, and you were his.

A/N- Im gonna be honest- i havent written anything in AGES. Was struggling with school and after all the studying felt very burnt out. Then went through some family crisis and was contemplating dropping out 🫠BUT. Im going to try to do all the requests now.

Hope you enjoyed!

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peach-teea · 9 months

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Hi!I just wanted to tell you that I'm in love with how you write sean!you write him so beautifully 😻 If it's not too much to ask could you write how sean would go about courting reader? Or how they meet? If not plz feel free to ignore

awe thank you so much! decided to write sean courting the reader! hope you enjoy it :)

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ꜱᴄᴀʀꜱ

- Sean courting you would be very untraditional even for his time. Instead of the usual gifts - flowers, jewelry, heartfelt letters,...- he'd give you something that's important to him, expecting you to take care of it and maybe even take interest in it. It's things like daggers, books,... or more permanent things... scars

- Even before your relationship fully blooms he's fairly possessive. He's quite loyal and expects you to be too. He wouldn't mind you talking to his brothers, but he'd rather you were with him instead.

- He invites you to EVERYTHING. Afternoon tea, his mothers parties, balls,... And of course, at those parties you'd be his only interest. No other lady shall take up his attention with you in sight. Especially when he's trying to get your attention. Only maybe if he wanted to make you jealous - to get your attention of course.

- Very determined. Even if you don't want to accept his gifts and invites to tea parties or other events he wouldn't give up. No, itd fuel his desire for you more.

- If you're not very responsive to his courting he'd make sure any other suitors that would attempt to court you would be... taken care of. You're his. Even if it'd take him more time to convince you of it.

- All this would happen only after he's absolutely sure you're the one though. At first he'd just be observing you from afar for a long long time. He knows what desserts you like, favorite beverage, favorite books, places you frequent,...

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peach-teea · 1 year

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When he's in love with you

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ

- He gets attentive to your needs. Always watching from afar, observing. At first it may be a little unnerving, but he doesn't mean it in a bad way though. He's just trying to help you and perhaps make your life a little bit easier. Or maybe have a conversation.

- Doesn't let anything slide involving you. Will somehow 'avenge' you... After all he's not shy to kill. If he can't kill the person because of their status, well... he will try to make you avoid them or shield you from them. Definitely protective. (One of the people he'd try to shield you from is his mother.)

- There wasn't anybody in his life that would stand up for him or get to actually know him. His mother dismissing his trauma, his step father abusing him, his piano teacher using and assaulting him... He's went through a lot and if you can validate his traumas and actually try to help him he'd be yours.

- He definitely values knowledge the most. He wants a person to have deep conversations with. A person who he can read scientific books with and then talk about what they've learned together. If you're not into science that much... fiction will do well too! All in all he reads everything really. He just prefers scientific books more.

- I know that the manhua is based in victorian era which was very very conservative and their knowledge on sex was mostly from having sex with prostitutes until they married- then with their wives who had 0 idea what sex even is- however, I headcanon that Sean wouldnt mind having sex with you out of wedlock, and not because he would think of you as a prostitute god no- but because if you capture his attention enough to make him think about you in such way then he's already in love and ready to marry you

- He'd ignore his mothers wishes on who he should marry for you. Because when he falls in love, he's down for good. He basically becomes your servant<3

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sillybouquetsoul · 1 year

Text

Cloud Castles - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Hades and Persephone's Twin (ao3 link)

Rating: Teen

Word count: 5k

Pairing: Aisha/Sein

Story Summary: They dance just out of each other’s reach, but each time brings them closer together.

Aisha and Sein navigate through the dark fairy tale of their own making, one encounter at a time.

Chapter Summary: Aida, the Goddess of Spring is loved by many gods; except one.

Her twin Aisha, the Goddess of Rot, is unloved by many; except one.

<< previous: chapter 2 <<

While Aida laughs and frolics among the flowers, Aisha watches from the shadows.

Aisha doesn’t like the sun—it’s too bright, leaving her exposed to invisible eyes. In the world of gods and goddesses, there’s no place where you can really hide from the divinity. High above and down below, the gods and goddesses are always watching.

And Aida, her sweet and naive twin, the young Goddess of Spring, inexplicably attracts attention everywhere she goes. Aisha is never far from Aida, but she’s grateful to remain in her sister’s shadow. While Aida devotes hours to making flowers bloom, singing with the birds, and stealing sips of nectar and honey when she thinks no one is paying attention, not even the bees, Aisha is content to read under a tree, letting stories and fairy tales take her thoughts to a place beyond the blooming garden around her.

It’s no wonder that Aisha escapes notice. Mortals avoid her, while the gods seem to forget about her existence entirely. Not many voluntarily associate with the Goddess of Spring’s twin, the Goddess of Rot.

Just as the smell of flowers makes Aisha’s stomach churn, her own smell of rot and decay has a powerful effect on both mortal and immortal senses. But the twins’ love for each other is stronger than their opposing natures; throughout years of exposure, Aida has become the only one who can touch Aisha without instantly recoiling.

“You smell like the earth,” she’d reassure Aisha even though her younger sister didn’t need such sentiments. “It’s a good smell. Nature needs the earth to thrive, just like I need you!”

But what if, Aisha sometimes thinks, what if you don’t need me anymore? Sooner or later, a god will want to take you for his wife, and you’ll no longer be by my side. No god will allow me to stay with you. He won’t tolerate my smell. None of them do.

She’s all but given up hope that someone will want her. It’s an empty dream. Appearance-wise she’s identical to Aida, but their similarities end there.

Aida already has a long list of admirers and potential suitors vying for her hand. Anya, their mother, has her plate full shielding Aida from the brunt of love letters, perfumes, flowers—this always made Aisha laugh; what fool would present flowers as a gift to the Goddess of Spring?—and jewelry sent to Anya’s temple, all addressed to her daughter. Aida likes and appreciates the gifts well enough, but it’s impossible for her to make use of them all.

Reading the love letters is one of Aisha’s guilty pleasures. For perishable gifts, like parchment letters and flowers, she’s tasked by her mother to decompose them. It’s a fair trade: entertaining herself with the written contents before crumbling them into ash and soil. These letters and flowers have greater use for nourishing the earth than their original purpose, in Aisha’s opinion.

The interests of other gods, however, are harder to fend off. Once Aida becomes of age, wars may be waged for her hand in marriage. Gods and goddesses are petty and selfish like that, unable to let go of an obsession until they possess it.

Their mother is constantly on guard for unannounced visits from another god, especially any one of the Big Three. Perhaps among the Big Three, Nemo is the most ideal candidate. Relative to his older brothers, he seems the tamest and most reasonable. But when possible, Anya would rather keep Aida to herself.

Why wouldn’t she? Aida is a perennial blossom. People are only ever drawn by her beauty, but her mother and sister perceived her as something to be nurtured and protected.

For that reason, Aisha always makes sure that the boundary of rot surrounding the garden is intact. She crafted the boundary herself, through a clever and intricate use of her abilities as the Goddess of Rot. When outsiders come close, they’re instantly assaulted by a strong, pungent smell reminiscent of rotting corpses. If the smell doesn’t deter them, then the hallucinations do: images of dead creatures, dried blood, and white bone.

Each step across the boundary sets off a sensory trigger; starting from smell, to taste acting as the last defense. Whoever manages to withstand all five excruciating sensory triggers is either a spirit, or one of the Big Three.

The Big Three have yet to enter Anya’s garden. All mortals revere Anya as the Goddess of Harvest, so they know not to incur her wrath by trespassing into her garden without permission.

Aisha thought this balance of power among them, delicate as it is, would hold forever. But for immortals, forever is not a long time.

They expected Carlo, the God of Sky, to act first. He was proud and entitled, infamous for his numerous sexual conquests since long before Aida and Aisha were born. For him, Aisha would be nothing more than a trophy. He felt the compulsion to voice his thoughts at every turn, unsolicited or otherwise, seemingly in love with the sound of his own voice from how often he talked over others.

Then there’s Nemo, the God of the Sea, who rarely spoke unless prompted by Carlo. What he made up for in silence was the strength of his storms at sea, where he willfully sunk ships at a whim. He made his home in the deepest trench, and whatever he did there was anyone’s best guess. Even though he was quieter than Carlo, he too was easily swayed by beautiful women; he was just more discreet about it.

Finally, the God of Death, Sein, was the most elusive one. He occupied a separate dimension entirely, ruling an underworld overridden by ghosts and spirits doomed to eternal damnation. He never showed up to Olympus unless war was on the horizon. He was the only god among the Big Three that hasn’t already taken a wife—or rather, multiple wives, yet.

While Carlo and Nemo are venerated by mortals, tens of thousands of their statues hewn in their likenesses scattered across the continent, Sein has no such devout followers. As a result, no one apart from the primordial gods knows what he looks like. Aisha tried to find pictures of him in books before, but the illustrations only depict a large and dark silhouette, faceless, shapeless, sometimes with sharp teeth.

She will do her utmost to prevent Aida from falling into Sein’s hands. Carlo or Nemo she can deal with, but Sein is a complete mystery.

People that go to the underworld don't return.

There is a presence at her boundary, stealing her focus away from the book in her hands.

For a while, it hovers at the edge of the boundary. It is an unfamiliar but ticklish presence, like cold fingers teasing around the boundary, as though sizing up Aisha’s powers.

But after a few seconds, the boundary suddenly collapses, and the presence passes through all five levels of her rot.

The book falls out of Aisha’s hands. She stands up, shaky in the knees, and without thinking she runs to the center of the garden, where Aida is. Sweet and naive Aida, unaware of the powerful god that’s about to appear before them. Their mother is not around to protect them.

“Aida,” she says, doing her best to keep her voice steady. “Please hold my hand.”

Aida readily acquiesces. She probably thinks they’re about to start dancing as her eyes light up with joy. Aisha isn’t sure whether to laugh or scream.

“Whatever happens next, don’t let go, alright?”

“Oh! Okay then. Are we playing a new game?”

Aida isn’t foolish. Unlike goddesses of her age and status, she’s simply been given too little room to grow. She grew up sheltered from the outside world, so her demeanor is child-like compared to Aisha. Aisha can’t even tell her to run, because where can Aida run?

“Yes, we are.” Aisha says through gritted teeth. A game that they didn’t consent to.

“Are we?” A third voice joins them, so deep and chilling that shivers race down Aisha’s spine. It sounds like the voice of Death.

She turns her head, and Death stands there, smiling at them.

His dark robes are stark against the colorful backdrop of flowers and greenery, so out of place that at first, she wonders if he’s an illusion. But no illusion of her making, or any immortal’s, can possibly recreate that face and smile. His black hair is long and wavy, half of it swept across his face, almost concealing his left eye. The rest is tied in a half ponytail, the ends curling up at the nape of his neck. From a distance, he doesn’t look as big and foreboding as Carlo, though his long and slender frame makes him seem taller.

But the energy in the garden has changed. Instead of the light, sweet fragrance they’re accustomed to, the air suddenly feels restrictive and abnormally heavy. The flowers near his feet are drooping. If nature can also sense and respond to his aura, then this is no illusion.

Aisha has to force the words out of her mouth. “You’re not welcome here, God of Death.”

“How rude of me. Please allow me to introduce myself,” The God of Death dips his head, the smile still fixed in place. Contrary to his tone, he doesn’t look apologetic at all. “The title ‘God of Death’ is terribly dreary, so please call me Sein. May I know who I’m speaking to?”

Aisha tightens her grip on Aida’s hand. “You already know who we are. Why do you come here without my mother’s permission?”

“Anya isn’t the most cooperative chaperone for her daughters, I hope you understand. And don’t worry, I won’t stay for long. The flowers…” he surveys the garden critically. “Their smell makes me dizzy. I’d prefer not to destroy any part of Anya’s garden either, so it would be in everyone’s best interests to listen to my proposal.”

He leans to the side, peering behind Aisha. “Don’t you agree, Goddess of Spring?”

Aisha steps into his line of vision, heart stuttering when his attention refocuses on her. It’s jarring to be looked at directly, especially when it’s the God of Death.

Aida tugs on her hand. “Aisha, let’s just listen to him.”

“He can’t be trusted.” Aisha whispers fiercely.

“He doesn’t look dangerous.”

“Are we looking at the same god? His very presence is slowly killing the garden!”

“Goddess of Spring,” Sein interrupts them. “I appreciate your faith in me. But dear Aisha has a point. Sometimes, fear is the only intelligent response.”

Aisha bites her lip so hard that she draws ichor. Fear and dread and rust—that’s what her own ichor tastes like right now.

“Sister, please let me handle this. I will protect you.” She doesn’t need to look behind to know that Aida is pouting. But Aisha can’t take her eyes off Sein. She fears that he’ll disappear right before her eyes and seconds later, Aida will be gone forever.

“You’re not the first god to come with a proposal, nor will you be the last. If you want Aida’s hand in marriage, you must get in line.”

Sein throws his head back and laughs.

“I’m well aware of the Goddess of Spring’s popularity. But I’m not here for her.”

Her thoughts run cold. What is he talking about, who else is in this garden with them—

The God of Death isn’t looking at Aida. Even though Aisha blocks his view of Aida, he doesn’t seem perturbed in the slightest. He makes no attempt to approach Aida, unlike the handful of lesser gods who managed to sneak past Aisha’s defenses in the past.

He steps forward until he’s at arm’s length from her, a trail of wilted flowers in his wake. She hears Aida’s pained cry behind her, but for Aisha, wilted flowers aren’t of consequence. Her sister can always make flowers bloom. There are too many flowers in this garden, and none of them ever die. Aida would never allow a flower to die under her watch.

“I’m here for you, Goddess of Rot.” Sein murmurs, the words intimate and soft, as though they’re only meant for Aisha to hear.

“Is it my time to die already?” She asks, lifting her chin indignantly.

“Die? Oh, no. You misunderstand me,” he places one hand on his chest and bows slightly. “I’m not here to kill you.”

In another setting, in another universe where they weren’t immortals, the scene and gesture would have seemed romantic. The God of Death bowing—a hand over his heart—before her, a goddess overlooked by both mortals and immortals alike. She realizes that despite the difference in social status and power, they’re quite similar to one another. Both forgotten immortals: one dwells in the underworld, while the other is hidden behind her sister’s blinding effervescence.

But somehow, he sees her.

“I’d like you to join the underworld and rule by my side, Aisha.”

Sein leaves after telling them that he’ll visit again in the next full moon, and that he hopes Aisha will have made up her mind by then.

Aida is understandably distraught.

“Aisha, you’re not seriously considering his proposal, are you? You can’t go! If I’m not getting married, you can’t either!” She shakes her head wildly.

Aisha consoles Aida, but her mind is still reeling from the earlier encounter, from Sein’s shocking proposal—not meant for Aida, but her.

Aisha can’t wrap her head around that: an immortal who isn’t after Aida. Nobody is immune to Aida’s charms. It’s strange and borderline terrifying, not knowing what the God of Death is thinking. Why would he choose her?

She needs answers, none of which Aida or Anya can give her. The next step is to gather more information about Sein. He must have another motive. None of the Big Three can be trusted, and Aisha would be a fool to let Sein’s ambiguous proposal sway her.

It may also be a misdirection tactic. He could be trying to reach Aida through her. Ultimately, Aida is her biggest weakness.

The moment Aisha realizes this, she finally regains her composure. Yes, of course that’s his goal. Sein is a god, and all gods dream of claiming goddesses like Aida. He’s simply using a different approach than the others, by targeting and eliminating Aisha first before pursuing Aida.

She has to admit that it’s a clever method that almost fooled her, and she blames herself for not seeing through him sooner.

“Don’t fret, Aida,” Aisha says, brushing a wayward blond hair out of her sister’s face. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll keep you safe.”

“You won’t marry him?” Aida demands.

“No. His proposal wasn’t really meant for me anyway.”

Aida wraps both arms around Aisha’s waist, burrowing her head into Aisha’s neck. The scent of flowers intensifies as though they’re sprouting in her lungs, choking her, but Aisha hugs her back.

Aida never complains about her scent of rot, but out of a mutual consideration, they break apart after a few minutes.

“He’s…” Aida trails off hesitantly. Aisha nudges her to continue. “He’s not what I expected.”

“Me neither. He unsettles me.”

“Really? I thought you’d like him.”

“What makes you say that?”

Aida giggles. “He doesn’t like flowers. He hid it pretty well, but I could tell the smell bothered him. He reminded me of you a little bit.”

Aisha cracks a smile. “I don’t mind flowers. It’s just that I gravitate towards—”

“Dirt, rot, and decomposing matter. I know very well, Aisha. It seems like you’re fond of dead things too, huh?”

When Anya returns, the twins waste no time telling her about the God of Death’s visit. Anya immediately flies into a fit of rage, cursing Sein’s name in colorful variations of the ancient tongue. Aisha and Aida placate her with ample reassurances that they were unharmed.

“Did he touch you anywhere? Did he feed you fruits from the underworld?” Anya grips Aida’s hand firmly.

“He didn’t! Aisha stood between us the whole time. My reliable protector.”

“That’s good. What about you, Aisha? Are you alright?”

“I’m perfectly fine, mother.”

The Goddess of Harvest sighs in relief. “Good. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to protect you both.”

“None of us knew he would come. Please don’t apologize for something beyond your control,” Aisha pats her mother’s hand. “But on the next full moon, please make sure that Aida is with you at all times.”

Anya looks at her sharply. “What? That brat is coming back again?”

“He says he is. It would be safer for Aida to be gone then, in case he plans to take her.”

“You should come with us too, Aisha! Let’s all hide away for a while.” Aida suggests with shining eyes. “Oh, we can go someplace you've never been! The beach, or the mountains, or the forest…”

As appealing as a vacation sounds, Aisha shakes her head. “He’d be able to find us easily. Mother’s temple is the safest haven for you, sister.”

Aida slumps in disappointment. Meanwhile, Anya watches her younger daughter intently.

“What do you plan to do on that day, Aisha?”

Aisha squares her shoulders before sharing the thoughts that have simmered within her since Sein’s departure. “I’ll be a diversion. When he finds out that Aida isn’t here, he’ll give up. I’ll create an excuse for her absence, and I’ll also try to find out when he’ll visit next. Perhaps then you can engage with him in another location, mother.”

Anya frowns. “I don’t like this idea. It puts you at so much risk. What if he harms you? I think you should come along with us. Or better yet, I will be here to receive him while you two stay in my temple.”

“That won’t be necessary, mother. I have a strong feeling you’ll end up fighting, and… I believe in your strength, but we don’t want you to get hurt. The garden could be destroyed if you clash with him. Aida spent so many years perfecting every part of the garden. It would be such a shame if her efforts went to waste.”

Aisha takes a deep breath. There are flowers everywhere; in her lungs, mouth, and head. The flowers are always happier whenever Aida and Anya are around. Petals unfurl, and their sweet fragrances thicken in the air.

She curls her bare feet into the earth, pretending that she can feel the nonexistent dead, rotting things buried deep underneath.

“Please trust me on this. I will deal with Sein.”

The night of the full moon is serene. The sky is clear, and the moon’s pale light illuminates the garden, as though Selene herself is watching the events unfold from high above.

It won’t be entertaining, Aisha muses as the minutes tick by. Because Aida is long gone.

“What a lovely view.”

She turns around at the familiar voice. At first, she doesn’t see him in the darkness, but he voluntarily steps into the moonlight, casting a shadow that seems to stretch on forever. He was more discreet this time; she hadn’t even noticed that he crossed her rot boundary.

Most would panic or freeze up when faced with the God of Death, but Aisha only feels calmness. Perhaps because this isn’t her first time meeting him, and the knowledge that her sister is out of harm’s way helps alleviate her biggest concerns. Their mother is more than capable of protecting Aida.

“Yes, the garden looks quite lovely at night. Unfortunately, it’s too chilly yet for fireflies to show.”

She can’t hear Sein’s footsteps, but she sees his shadow moving towards her until it engulfs her own. She imagines the flowers withering in his wake.

Somehow he materializes behind her, close enough that she feels the coldness of his breath, skating across the nape of her neck as he speaks. She suppresses a shiver.

“I wasn’t referring to the garden.”

“Well then, I hope I gave you a compelling reason to admire the garden in its night time glory.” Aisha parries the compliment smoothly, though her heart rate quickens.

That compliment isn’t meant for you, she reminds herself.

She pivots, and there he stands: clad in the same dark robes, enigmatic smile, and unfathomable stare.

“The garden itself is adequate,” Sein says without looking away. “The darkness mutes the bright colors, so I find it easier on the eyes. I can almost ignore the smell of the flowers as well, if I concentrate hard enough.”

He steps forward. “But I don’t need to inhibit my senses to admire you. You’re lovelier than the garden.”

Aisha scoffs. “Shouldn’t you save such praise for the right goddess?”

“I’m speaking to her right now,” Sein pauses to look around. “How convenient that the Goddess of Spring is gone. I’m actually quite relieved.”

“Why?” Something isn’t right. He seems unfazed by Aida’s absence. She wonders how long he’ll keep this act up. Sooner or later, he’ll break. Although the chances of Sein actually hurting her are slim, she can’t rule out the possibility. Hopefully she won’t get hurt too badly.

“I told you. I’m only here for you.”

Aisha crosses her arms. “It would be easier if you’re honest about your intentions. Trust me when I say I’ve heard every excuse on this earth.”

“Oh?” He brushes his tousled bangs out of his eyes. “I’ve been nothing but honest since I first came here. Why do you think I’m lying?”

Is he playing dumb on purpose?

“Because…”

If he’s not willing to admit it, she’ll force him to.

She lets her control slip, and a putrid stench begins to fill the air. Suppressing the rot inside her consumes a lot of headspace, but she’s used to it. She’s spent her whole life perfecting control, winding that knot of power in and around itself to prevent seepage, to avoid inadvertently distressing her family and their precious garden. Some days, the pressure of holding back splits her head open, and she’s on the verge of splintering apart; but then Aida is there, and though she’s unable to help much except to sing softly as a distraction, her voice is enough to pull Aisha out of the downward spiral.

Letting go now feels forbidden. However, Anya and Aisha aren’t around tonight.

By now, most gods or goddesses retreat with a hand covering their nose, expressions twisted in disgust. Aisha expects Sein to react similarly; he’d last no more than a few seconds before escaping the garden, cursing her name to hell and back.

But the God of Death does none of those things. If anything, he looks pleased, something akin to approval in his gaze.

“Because?” He prompts, standing in place and speaking normally as though he isn’t in direct range of Aisha’s rot. The grass beneath their feet is turning yellow, brown, and then disappears entirely to be replaced by bare soil. If she isn’t careful, the whole garden may turn into a barren wasteland.

For a moment, the most selfish, shameful thought occurs to her. Aida has had this garden all to herself for centuries, but Aisha doesn’t. Even here, in their childhood home, she has to exercise caution. While Aida can make as many blooms as she likes without consequence, Aisha’s rot continues to fester inside as the years pass.

It’s unfair, and she only realizes that now.

“Because everyone wants Aida,” she says, feeling disconnected from the garden, from this conversation, from her own body that’s rotted through, undesirable and unlovable. “You’re using me to get to her. I know.”

Sein chuckles. “Wrong. Care to try again?”

Losing patience, Aisha throws her hands into the air. “I’m not in the mood for games. What do you want?”

“I’ve said it already but you refuse to believe me. I want you, not your sister.”

“Stop it,” Aisha says roughly. She hates how tempted she is by that admission. It’s a lie. “I won’t be made a fool again. It’s Aida you want—”

“Are you convincing me or yourself? You wound my pride, Aisha,” the amusement in Sein’s voice vanishes. “There are only so many times I can bear to repeat myself.”

“No.”

Sein’s eyes are sharp and cold in the moonlight. “Is that your answer?”

“What? No, I meant…” She looks away. The ground beneath her is no longer green grass, just dirt. “How are you still here? Most would run off because of the smell.”

“I don’t mind the smell of rot. Did you forget that I rule the underworld? I think you’d enjoy it there. It can give you far more than what this garden offers, which isn’t much to begin with.”

Sein takes one step closer, and Aisha steps back, mind blank and panic surging through her veins. It’s crazy to believe anything he says, but so far his actions align with his words—as ludicrous as they sound to her.

Fending off attention on her sister’s behalf is second nature to Aisha. But this…

This is unmapped territory, and she has no reinforcements. Her two companions in the world are sequestered in the Goddess of Harvest’s temple, where they’re twining flower crowns or discussing ways to beautify their garden. They won’t return until sunrise. She’s utterly alone with a god who will overpower her.

“Would you like to experience the underworld?” Sein offers brightly. He seems almost excited at the prospect, the tension in his face relaxing as a smile dawns. “Consider it a trial stay. You can leave whenever you like. I won’t force you to stay.”

“What use would I be there?” Aisha demands, instantly assuming that there must be a functional purpose to his offer. No one asks anything of her, except to act as a deterrent against unsavory gods.

“I don’t expect anything from a guest during their stay. Unlike my brothers, I do have manners,” his lips curl into a sneer at the mention of Carlo and Nemo. “But should you decide that you like the underworld, and that you’d rather stay… Well, I’m sure we can come to a mutual agreement that will satisfy both of us then.”

Is she imagining the sudden heat in his eyes? Aisha doesn’t allow herself to dwell on that. She has a strong sense that the mutual agreement would benefit him far more than herself. “What do you mean by mutual agreement?”

“Let’s leave that discussion for the future.” Sein deflects the question with a flippant wave of his hand. “Do you accept my offer?”

“What happens if I say no?”

“Then I’ll leave. You won’t get this opportunity again, even if you regret it sometime later. And no one can enter the underworld without my permission.” Sein says easily.

Knowing that he won’t punish her for saying no is a relief. Aisha lets her shoulders drop.

“Where do the souls of gods go after they die?” She asks curiously. “Are we all not destined to end up in the underworld?”

Sein laughs. “Excellent question. I don’t expect anything less from a brilliant mind like yours. Unfortunately, if you’d like to know, you’ll have to come with me.”

She shakes her head. “Even if you don’t tell me, I can find the answer myself. Through books.”

“Ah, yes, books. Have I mentioned that I have collections from the dead libraries?”

Oh.

Oh no.

“Y-you do? In the underworld?” Aisha asks, awestruck. “How is that possible?”

Dead libraries were wealthy institutions of knowledge that have been purged or destroyed eons ago, mostly because of stupid humans, or occasionally, a god’s greed to keep the knowledge for themselves. As such, the resources contained in dead libraries were lost forever to dust and time, out of her reach.

At least, until Sein claimed otherwise. “Of course I do. The Library of Alexandria, of Antioch, of Serapeum, just to name a few. All dead things belong to me.”

She shivers at the finality in his tone. It’s true then, that his influence encompasses more than departed mortal souls. He sounds awfully confident, looking proud that he managed to surprise her yet again. The dead libraries that he mentioned are a substantial part of her wildest dreams, and she’s accepted the impossible yearning of never being able to access them in reality.

But the picture he’s describing depicts a world bigger than herself, than the tiny garden she was raised in. He dangles knowledge and books above her as bait, ensnaring her within his trap. Whether or not he’s speaking the truth, Aisha’s mind and heart have already decided.

She knows scant little about him, but she already thinks that they understand each other quite well. She isn’t afraid of dead things, and he isn’t repulsed by her presence. Perhaps they can even get along.

“Alright, Sein. I accept your offer.”

She reminds herself that she has a way out. That he isn’t scheming to kidnap her for good. Aida and Anya’s faces come to mind, but when she thinks of them, she anticipates their worry, confusion, and rage. Those feelings don’t belong to her.

Amidst her turmoil, Aisha finally dares to look at Sein directly. Then she wishes she didn’t, because the moonlight bathes him in silver and white, emphasizing the fine-boned features that all primordial gods, including her own mother, possess. In that moment, she thinks that if he were widely known and had marble statues hewn in his likeness, he could rival Aphrodite’s popularity among mortals.

His dark hair and darker eyes are unique from the flaxen-haired gods and goddesses she knows. But somehow, the darkness of his aura has steadily abated since their first meeting. He seems friendly, which confuses her to no end.

As Anya once told her, “You could never resist trying to learn and understand new things, can you?”

Her mother meant it as a compliment then. But deep down, Aisha had known for some time that the thirst for knowledge would culminate in her own ruin and downfall. True knowledge seekers burn bright, but they don’t burn for long. She sees herself burning already, set aflame by the god from hell standing before her.

As though sensing her thoughts, the God of Death smiles, white teeth flashing in the dark.

#aisha manhua #aisha #sein #aisha x sein #aisha/sein #aisha and sein are immortals here #fanfiction #ongoing #chapter 3 #cloud castles #greek mythology au

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sillybouquetsoul · 1 year

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Cloud Castles - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Acting (ao3 link)

Rating: Teen

Word count: 1.7k

Pairing: Aisha/Sein

Story summary: They dance just out of each other’s reach, but each time brings them closer together.

Aisha and Sein navigate through the dark fairy tale of their own making, one encounter at a time.

Chapter Summary: Aisha tries her hand at rewriting a story.

The book propped in Aisha’s arms is pushed down, and Aida’s beaming face takes its place.

“Aisha, let’s do a play!” Her sister’s enthusiasm is infectious. Aisha can’t find it in herself to get angry at her.

“What play?”

“Oh, you know my favourite one. The Three Dwarves, of course!”

Aisha groans. “We’ve done that so many times.”

“Because it’s a classic! And it works best with four people,” Aida tugs the book clean out of Aisha’s hands, and like a fool, Aisha lets it go. “Come on. Carlo and Nemo already agreed. We just need one more person!”

Aisha knows it’s a lost cause, but she asks anyway. “What about Sein?”

Aida sighs. “He says he’ll only join if you play the main character. But that’s okay, I can take turns with you! You play the female lead and then I will, so we both get to act with Sein!”

So, not a flat-out no. There’s still hope. But Aisha is tired of playing the same role. Ideally, she would exert the bare minimum effort that would satisfy Aida, and also maximize any opportunity to make Sein uncomfortable. Acting seems to be one of his pain points. She should, if she can, take advantage of his conditional response.

Especially after the manoeuvre he pulled on her that hot summer day so many months ago. Her bottom lip tingles with the memory.

“Sure, I can join you. I’ll play the lead so Sein will join us as well, but,” she holds up a finger before Aida can celebrate too soon. “On one condition.”

Aisha’s mind comes alive with ideas. A smile grows on her lips, and she can almost taste the tantalizing sweetness of vengeance.

“Let me revise the story.”

After promising Aida that she would finish rewriting the story in two days, Aisha’s routine of reading in the library during the daytime switches over to writing. She requests for a stack of fresh parchments and inkwells in preparation for the project, which fills her with excitement.

Reading and acting out The Three Dwarves is one experience; rewriting it is another entirely.

She spends the first day discarding more drafts than saving them. She only leaves the library for meals and bathroom breaks; the remainder of her time is devoted to writing at the desk. Engrossed in writing, she even loses track of time. When she looks up, the sky outside the window has darkened, and the candles around the room are lit.

Aisha sets down the ink quill to rub her aching eyes. She wonders how she could have missed a servant coming in to light the candles. It’s rather considerate of them, though also unusual because if they knew she was in the library, they left her alone.

“Good evening, Aisha.” She jolts in her seat, lifting her head to see Sein standing beside a shelf. He holds a book in his arms, as always. From the distance and wavering candlelight, Aisha can’t make out which book.

“Why are you… oh, it’s nighttime. You mentioned before that you enjoy reading here at night.”

“Indeed. I usually carry one candle around for myself, but seeing as you were still here, I took the liberty of lighting all the candles in this space,” Sein comes forward, stopping at the edge of the desk. “I hope you didn’t strain your eyes too much.”

He studies the mess of parchment papers and ink stains. He looks wide awake at this late hour, while Aisha’s body is now suffering the aftereffects of hunching over the desk all day. Her back is bound to ache badly tomorrow, and she’s not even halfway through the rewrite yet.

As Sein leans closer, probably to read her writing, Aisha quickly gathers the written parchment and holds them close to her chest.

Sein’s eyes drift from the papers to her, one eyebrow arched.

“They’re not done yet. You’ll get to read them tomorrow.” If I manage to finish writing by then.

He withdraws with a slight smile. “Ah. Then I’ll look forward to reading it tomorrow.”

She waits for him to leave, but he doesn’t. He takes the couch adjacent to the desk, a little too close for comfort. Aisha debates whether she should ask him to leave; ultimately, she decides that it’d be rude, because their reading times have never overlapped until tonight. Now is Sein’s turn to read in the library if he wishes, and she’s encroaching on that time.

“Will you play the lead this time?”

“I am, so this means you will act too.” Aisha states, watching his face for any negative emotions.

Even if Sein finds the idea of acting in a children’s fairy tale repulsive, he doesn’t reveal anything. “Of course,” he agrees readily, leaning his head against his palm. “I don't break my promises. If you’d like me to act in this one, then I will.”

“It’s not about whether I want you to act, because I don’t. It will make Aida happy if everyone plays a part, so this is for her.” Aisha corrects.

Why does he have to phrase it like that? Like he’d do anything she asked of him.

Sein hums. “If that’s how you want to think, I won’t refute it.”

Candlelight dances in his eyes, and the faint smile he usually wears has faded away. When Sein isn’t smiling, he looks intimidating and impossible to approach. Out of Madam Sylvia’s children, Aisha thinks he’s the most memorable one; his noble features are strikingly beautiful. Aida had acknowledged his appearance since the first time they met, but it took ages for Aisha to accept it.

Step siblings in fairy tales are almost always portrayed as deformed creatures because of their inherent penchant for wickedness and cruelty. He is Madam Sylvia’s son after all, and apples don’t fall far from their tree. So for the longest time, Aisha refused to think of him as handsome.

But the candlelight softens the sharp lines of his face, just enough that the tension seeps out of Aisha’s shoulders. Perhaps letting her guard down around him is unwise—and she has seen firsthand how terrifying he can be, holding a bloody knife instead of a book—but for the moment, she puts those flyaway thoughts to rest. They would only distract her, and Sein is already a major distraction by himself.

“Please don’t talk to me while I’m writing. I really do have to finish this.” Aisha says airily, returning her attention to the parchment.

He doesn’t respond, but when she glances over after a few minutes, he seems focused on his book. Other than the turning of the page, the library is quiet, just how Aisha likes it. She’s glad that Sein is considerate enough to not initiate a conversation, otherwise she can’t concentrate on writing.

So Aisha dips her quill and resumes her task. She’ll stop once she reaches the halfway point.

Aisha wakes up on a firm surface. Not her bed.

The ceiling above her is high and vaulted. The air also carries the scent of paper and ink. Not her bedroom.

She sits up, every inch of her body protesting at the movement. She’s still wearing yesterday’s day dress; the fabric is wrinkled from her sleeping in it. The sunlight shining through the windows is what wakes her up, and she realizes she's slept on the couch in the library. The blanket covering her body slips down, pooling at her waist. It’s an unfamiliar blanket, definitely not from her own room.

The last thing she remembers is writing… Sein was also there, though he was reading.

She has no memory of falling asleep, nor moving from the desk to the couch. Someone moved her, and also gave her a blanket. Annie, perhaps?

Aisha doesn’t waste time pondering her mysterious helper. She collects the stack of written parchment, intending to keep them in her room. Just as she’s about to nudge the library door open, someone pulls it open from the outside, causing Aisha to stumble.

A firm hand catches her shoulder. Aisha looks up, breath sticking in her chest.

Why him? Anyone but him.

“Good morning, Miss Aisha.” Sein greets her first.

She straightens, but his hand stays on her shoulder. Suddenly, she’s all too aware of her unbrushed hair, wrinkled dress, and ink-stained fingers. She lowers her head self-consciously, unwilling to look at him. “Good morning Sein. My apologies, but I’m in a hurry, so if you could let me pass—”

Some of the parchment slips and falls, landing in a heap around the floor. Aisha internally curses, bending down to retrieve them. In front of her, Sein also crouches, reaching for the pieces that fell further away.

“Still not fully awake, I see.” He comments, amused.

“Don’t read them,” Aisha says sharply as she notices his eyes running across the parchment. “Give that back, please.”

Sein doesn’t move. “Interesting.”

“Sein,” Aisha snatches the parchment out of his hand. “Goodness. Would you read an incomplete story?”

He looks at her.

“I suppose not, but I already know how The Three Dwarves goes. How far can you deviate from the original?”

“If this is a trick to convince me to spoil my rewrite, I’m not falling for it,” Aisha huffs. “Wait and see.”

Sein stands and extends a hand. Aisha frowns, but eventually accepts it. His hand is larger and warmer than hers, and she’s momentarily glad that her glove alleviates most of the physical contact. Once she’s on her feet, he lets go.

“Are you planning to sleep in the library again tonight?”

“I will try not to fall asleep,” Aisha says. “The couch is not the most comfortable place to sleep.”

“Would you prefer that I wake you up if you do fall asleep? I could have brought you to your room last night, but that was a great distance away, and I didn’t want to risk waking both you and Aida up.”

“You carried me to the couch?” Aisha repeats in a daze. “I thought… I thought it was Annie.”

Sein shakes his head. His amusement grows with her discomfort. “I even let you borrow one of my blankets. Was it warm enough?”

“It was sufficient,” she says calmly, though she’s fuming at the notion of Sein touching her again. How meddlesome and annoying. “But not to worry, I won’t let that happen again.”

“You’re light as a feather. I don’t mind.”

Of course he doesn’t mind, because the humiliation belongs to her and her alone, and for some reason he finds great pleasure in embarrassing her. She turns tail and walks away. It takes a lot of effort to not break into a sprint.

Even sprinting doesn’t feel fast enough to escape from Sein.

<< previous: chapter 1 <<

#aisha manhua #aisha #sein #aisha x sein #aisha/sein #aisha and sein are teenagers here #fanfiction #ongoing #chapter 2 #cloud castles #ch 41 and 42 updates wrecked me #how can i wait until april

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sillybouquetsoul · 1 year

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Cloud Castles - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Summer (ao3 link)

Rating: Teen

Word count: 3.3k

Pairing: Aisha/Sein

Story Summary: They dance just out of each other’s reach, but each time brings them closer together.

Aisha and Sein navigate through the dark fairy tale of their own making, one encounter at a time.

Chapter Summary: Ways to cool off on a hot summer day.

Trigger warnings(!): a near-death drowning experience in the height of summer

Summer in the Dimoche mansion is the season where the most social activities take place. Connections of the Dimoche family travel far and wide to the Dimoche mansion for dinner parties and soirees. When the twins were young, their father would send them off to bed before hurrying to the parlor, where he would spend the rest of the night entertaining guests. In the next morning, any guests that joined for breakfast—most of them slept in—would then get the opportunity to finally meet the young Dimoche heiresses.

This summer is no different. It’s the fourth summer since the mansion welcomed four new members of the family, and the first summer since her father passed away. The sweltering heat of this summer turns the grass yellow as July ebbs into August, and the trees seem to shrivel up, drying out from the heat.

On this searing afternoon in the library, Aisha chides herself for not picking a more appropriate dress for the weather. She’s always favored dresses with high necklines. She never liked the gaudy dresses that Madam Sylvia purchased for Aida; they were often too revealing and attracted too much attention for her taste. She didn’t question that she could fit into the dresses; Aida could, and naturally Aisha could, too. But the older twin thrived on attention, having no qualms revealing skin.

Sweat is beading at her temples, and the high collar and her hair length is not helping. After the hundredth time of closing her book and using it to fan herself, Aisha sets the book on the window pane and sighs. The heat makes it impossible for her to focus on reading. Has summer always been this brutal?

For a single, feverish moment, she wishes she could turn into an earthworm and burrow underground, so that she can escape from the sunlight and humidity.

Her palms are also sweating, and she checks that no one else is around before she removes her gloves. The long scar runs a straight and vertical path down her right palm, stopping just short of her wrist. Though the wound has long healed, the skin around the scar is puckered and uneven. She can feel the ridges whenever she lays her bare palm on flat surfaces. It reminds her all too often of that day. She remembers the shockingly cold contact of the knife against her skin, watching the sharp blade easily pierce through flesh, blood pouring out in its wake. She also remembers Sein’s warm and wet hand immobilizing her wrist.

Aisha threw the bloodstained dress away after that day, which happened in the summer, too. She assumed that Sein knew dogs could swim, almost didn’t think that her prank would work, let alone backfire on her.

But instead of fixating on the emotions attached to that particular memory, an idea occurs to her. It takes only a flash of Sein’s bare and wet torso, shining under the sunlight, for her to realize that staying in the stifling library any longer will eventually make her faint, like any damsel in distress from the romantic fairy tales she indulges once in a while.

Aisha is no such damsel in distress. She returns the book to the shelf before hurrying out of the library, one destination in mind.

The lake behind the mansion would be a great place to cool off.

She knows that the dock of the lake is likely already occupied, so Aisha takes a route that leads to the east shore of the lake. The tall trees conceal the east shore from any nosy bystanders, allowing for more privacy.

Not that swimming in the lake on a hot summer day is anything to be embarrassed about, but Aisha prefers peace and quiet. She’d ask Aida to join her, but Carlo would then invite himself along, and somehow Nemo would get involved as well.

These days, Aida doesn’t seem content with just Aisha’s company anyway. She finds great pleasure in tormenting Madam Sylvia’s eldest and youngest sons, who gaze upon her as though she’s the only star in the night sky. Even then, her beguiling older twin isn’t satisfied, because there’s one person who hasn’t given in yet.

How like Aida to be drawn to the only Durant son who doesn’t fall at her feet. It’s a shame that Sein doesn’t outwardly reciprocate her affections, because Aisha would have really enjoyed the sight of him behaving like his brothers, like innocent boys who don’t know how to act around dainty, pretty things.

But Sein behaves nothing like boys his age. And that may be a reason why Aida has yet to charm him.

Aisha shakes off all thoughts about them as she reaches the east shore. The lake shines blue and inviting under the sun, the only witness to her removing the stifling gown and gloves, kicking off shoes and rolling down stockings. It feels indecent to strip down in broad daylight, but this summer heat isn’t something that can be reasoned with. Her chemise and drawers stay on, just in case.

She puts her discarded clothing to the side. Her hair spills over one shoulder, trailing the grass as she crouches down. Aisha unties the black ribbon on the bodice of her dress, repurposing it to tie her hair back instead. Hair out of the way, she approaches the water cautiously.

Sein has swum briefly in these waters before, and he emerged unscathed then—at least, from her perspective. If he developed strange rashes or itchy spots in the aftermath, she was none the wiser.

A sharp bark pulls her out of her reverie. Aisha swivels around at the sound, heart stopping in her chest when she sees Arthur bounding towards her, tongue lolling out and ears flopping up and down.

She’d be happy if it was just Arthur, hoping that the greyhound is roaming the mansion grounds by himself and happened to catch her scent, but fate proves unkind to her.

Not a moment later, his brooding owner appears from among the trees.

Sein’s eyes initially follow Arthur, but he looks up. Whatever he sees—whether it’s Aisha’s state of undress, haphazardly tied hair, or flushed face—causes those green eyes to widen.

They do nothing but stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. Arthur noses Aisha’s hand in greeting. Out of muscle memory, she strokes his head.

Sein seems at an utter loss for words—for once, the calm and neutral expression he readily displays has melted into something akin to shock.

Although, anyone would be shocked to see a supposedly refined lady clad only in her chemise and drawers.

It’s Aisha who breaks the silence first.

“If you’re a gentleman,” she says, grateful that her voice is steady even though her heart is racing. “You would avert your eyes and grant me privacy, brother.” The last word comes out sharp.

Sein blinks once, and his mask slides smoothly back into place. He does turn around then, keeping his hands crossed behind his back as always.

“My apologies, Aisha. It was not my intention to intrude on your… swim. I thought you’d be in the library, reading.”

“It was too hot to continue reading there.”

“I understand. The heat must be tenacious indeed, for a lady like you to resort to swimming.” Sein has a unique and infuriating tone of speech that falls short of teasing banter, but carries more judgment than a simple observation.

Aisha can’t see his face, but she can picture the smirk he wears now.

“Lady or not, I’d much rather not die from heatstroke,” she retorts. “I have a question for you.”

“What is it?”

Now that he’s here, she might as well confirm this before fully committing to her impulsive idea. “Is the lake safe to swim in? When you went in last time, were you fine? No… no illness? No skin ailments?”

“Hm, I don’t believe I suffered any illnesses or skin ailments after leaving the water. I would remember if I did.”

“Good to hear.”

Aisha tentatively dipped a toe into the edge of the water. It felt cool, exactly as she’d hoped. Arthur followed her, panting furiously.

“Is Arthur still too small to swim?” She asks without looking back.

“I’d rather he didn’t.” Came Sein’s laconic response.

“Well, I’m not his master, so I won’t stop him from entering the water if he wishes.”

Behind her, Sein calls out, “Arthur, come.”

Aisha wades in.

Oh, the water is heavenly against her overheated skin. She stops when the water reaches her neck, submerged in the refreshing coolness. She gathers water in her palms, marvelling at its clarity before splashing it on her face. It isn’t enough. She wants to be surrounded by water completely.

So Aisha takes a deep lungful of air and plunges down. Her eyes open on instinct, but the water pressure is heavy and stinging. The uncomfortable sensation fades away quickly, though. The bottom of the lake is full of weeds and other dark green plants that she can’t recognize. They sway with the water movement, long tendrils snaking upwards and brushing her bare legs. Small rocks and pebbles line the floor, smooth and rounded by the water current. They don’t poke her feet when she steps on them.

Best of all, the water is silent. She hears nothing except the air bubbles escaping her nostrils and mouth.

The air expels slowly out of her lungs, but Aisha wants to stay in here for a little while longer. Staying underwater reminds her of the early, quiet days she started reading at the library. She was so short that she couldn’t reach the third shelf then, but the books on the lower shelves kept her entertained until she grew taller. This was long before Madam Sylvia and her noisy sons moved into the Dimoche mansion, so she always had the library all to herself. She was left to her own devices from breakfast until teatime, a glorious six hours of uninterrupted reading. She could escape into her own head, and no one would bother her.

But unlike the library, she couldn’t stay underwater for six hours. Otherwise she’d drown.

And she isn’t alone in this experience, not when Sein probably stands by the shore still, because he likes to torment her. Aisha hasn’t figured out why he seems intent on seeking out her company, when he can easily find a willing and zealous companion in her older sister; but Sein has always been an enigma.

How much time has passed? Surely not more than a minute. She’s never held her breath for this long. Mermaids in The Little Mermaid can breathe underwater. Does water turn into air for mermaids? Or do they breathe through gills like fish? The fairy tales never expanded on these details, which to Aisha are arguably more interesting than their romantic premises.

Her chest is starting to feel tight. Somehow the water has carried her to the deeper end, where her feet no longer touch the lake floor. As she kicks upwards—

A white-hot pain shoots up her legs, and they seize up.

Oh no. She can’t move her legs.

Aisha waves her arms wildly, but they lack the strength to pull her body upwards. The movement only makes her flail around in the water, further tiring out her body and consuming limited air.

Help, she wants to scream, but bubbles spill out instead. The silence extends both ways; she hears nothing, and her voice is lost to the void. No one can hear her.

Is Sein watching? Can he see the bubbles breaking the water surface?

Does he even care to save her?

Aisha thinks he doesn’t. She also thinks she’d rather drown than be saved by him. She doesn’t want to owe him her life.

That petty, vindictive reason to accept death is her last thought before her world goes dark.

The water pools in her lungs.

Then a strong force from above is exerted directly on her chest, pressing so hard that her lungs compress, and the water is forced out. It travels in reverse, burning all the way up her throat and out through her mouth.

Sweet air finally replaces the water. She shoves the hands away, turning onto her side as she hacks up residual water while greedily inhaling air. All the air.

When the coughing subsides, and she can finally breathe without choking, Aisha’s hands ball into fists on the grass.

A ragged sigh leaves Sein, prompting Aisha to look at him.

He’s in a similar state: his bare torso gleams wet, black curls plastered against his face and neck. He reaches up, raking his hair back. This moment, this exact picture, mirrors the prank she played on him years ago. Except this time, the displeasure is noticeably absent. He doesn’t look angry.

“I really hope this isn’t another of your pranks.” Sein says, a dangerous glint entering his eye.

Maybe it’s the absurdity of her situation, or the fact that she nearly sent herself into a watery grave, but Aisha giggles. She giggles like Aida would, and her own reaction shocks her more than Sein.

“I… came out… for a swim… only to… almost… drown… myself…” The giggles erupt into full-blown hysterical laughter. Aisha collapses flat against the grass, uncaring of her indecent position and how her soaked chemise clings to her skin. She laughs until she starts coughing up water again.

“What would have happened if you weren’t here,” Aisha muses aloud, lips quirked upwards. Laughter never comes easy for her. Of course it does now, right after a near-death experience. “I’d have died, and no one would know how it happened.”

If she died, Aida would be left alone—a lamb surrounded by hungry wolves. Not that two lambs can do much against wolves, except bide their time until they inherit their assets.

Aisha regards the sky, the brightness making her squint. “This wasn’t a prank. Thank you for saving me, Sein.”

“I hesitated for a moment, thinking that you were trying to get me into the water by pretending to drown. I waited for you to come up for air, but you never did,” Sein stands, his silhouette partially blocking her view. “I almost considered leaving the lake, to grant you privacy as you requested. But Arthur would not budge. You have him to thank as well. If not for him, I’d have left.”

From this angle, his features cast in shadow, Sein looks tall and formidable, like he can pick her up and throw her into the lake with ease. He doesn’t seem winded in the slightest from hauling her out of the water. It shows how strong he’s grown compared to the last time. Aisha suddenly remembers something else.

“Did you… did you touch my chest just now?” She asks quickly. Her own hand flutters to the place where she felt the physical pressure earlier. The neckline of her chemise starts at her collarbones, so her chest is covered. But the material is thin, and the soaked fabric certainly leaves little to the imagination. “That’s improper!” Aisha exclaims, heat rising to her cheeks.

Sein stares down at her with half-lidded eyes, the corner of his lips twitching.

“How else could I have forced your waterlogged lungs to work? You weren’t breathing at all, Aisha. Believe it or not, chest compressions are a life-saving technique. I suppose you wouldn’t like to know the other technique I used on you, but it could do you good in the future to be informed should you ever need to save someone from drowning.”

Dread spikes in her stomach. It’s never a good thing when Sein smiles. And nowadays, he smiles often around her, like he knows secrets that she doesn’t.

Sein pauses, and the silence swells between them, so tense and heavy that Aisha bursts out, “What did you do?”

His eyes drift down, though not towards her body, which she initially expects. They’re pinned to an area around her chin and neck. Then, he raises his index finger to tap his own lips.

“Ever heard of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation before, sister?”

“I—” She gapes at him, lips parted but no words coming out.

“Would you rather I left you to die?” Sein asks coolly, crossing his arms.

I’d rather die than get saved by you. I’d rather die than have my lips touch yours.

But like it or not, Sein did save her. He saved her so that Aida wouldn’t be left alone in the world. This boy, who’s part of the wolves that killed her father, and are now eyeing her and her sister, their wealth, to claim as their own, didn’t let Aisha drown. He has ample motive to let her die; hell, Madam Sylvia and all her offspring—maybe except Carlo, who’s smitten with Aida—want the Dimoche heiresses dead.

“Why?”

Sein’s brows furrow together in impatience. “Why what?”

She sits up, unable to lie flat on her back while he looms over her. “Why did you save me then? If I died, there would be one less person standing in your mother’s way. She’ll get what she wants, and you and your brothers will each get a portion of the inheritance when you couldn’t, before.”

Sein is quiet for a few moments. Aisha doesn’t look away, determined to stand her ground.

“I didn’t let you drown,” he finally acknowledges, his placid tone not giving any emotion away. It frustrates Aisha because she still can’t read him, and yet he seems to read her without difficulty. “Mermaids can’t and shouldn’t drown, anyway.”

Aisha doesn’t get the chance to absorb his words, because Sein doesn’t let her. He stoops down until he’s crouching before her. In a lightning-quick movement, he grabs her wrist, thumb trailing the long scar on her palm, a deliberate touch that makes her flinch.

Furious and flustered, Aisha tries to kick him—miraculously, her leg muscles work again—but Sein catches her foot, swiftly pressing both her ankles down with one hand. He snickers at her struggle.

“Feisty.”

It almost sounds like an endearment. Aisha is momentarily caught off guard, forgetting the gravity of their situation. He’s so close that water droplets from his hair land on her thigh.

She blames the summer heat. Mirages are known to occur in extreme heat, and the human brain is highly suggestible, prone to seeing things that aren’t there. What Aisha sees—no, hallucinates—is an illustrated scene from The Little Mermaid, where the prince finds the mute little mermaid, helpless and unused to her new pair of legs. He shares Sein’s black, wavy hair. They are, more or less, in the same position as the prince and little mermaid; except there is nothing remotely romantic about reality, especially after learning that she was saved out of pity.

The hallucination vanishes when Sein speaks up again.

“Should I give you another scar to remember this occasion by? What part of you should I mark next?”

“Let go of me.” Aisha snaps, bristling.

“In a bit,” Sein trails off as he studies her face intently. “Ah. I know the perfect place.”

He tugs her forward and leans in.

Cloth in hand, Aisha glares at the bathroom mirror.

When she touches the cloth to her bottom lip, she winces at the sting.

Sein had bitten hard enough to draw blood.

By the time she came to her senses, her palm burned from the slap she gave him in return. But the five-fingered imprint on his cheek—like the one Madam Sylvia gave Aisha on her birthday—would fade faster than the wound on her bottom lip.

>> next: chapter 2 >>

#aisha manhua #aisha #sein #aisha x sein #aisha/sein #fanfiction #ao3 #ongoing #chapter 1 #cloud castles #aisha and sein are teenagers here

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