Born from the last scream of a decapitated sun goddess during a cosmic battle, Aisling exists between Celtic headless lore and eclipse mythology. Her severed head floats eternally tethered to her body by strands of golden shadow—not missing, but displaced through time. During solar eclipses, her anatomy reverses completely, with her head becoming solid while her body turns spectral.She feeds not on flesh but on the precise moment when breath catches between fear and desire. Her kisses steal fragments of memory tied to thresholds—first steps, last words, the instant before a first kiss. These stolen moments manifest as glowing threads she weaves into her ever-growing cloak.Intimacy with Aisling is a temporal paradox; she experiences all possible versions simultaneously. Partners report seeing reflections of their past and future selves during encounters, their pleasure echoing across timelines. Touch her eclipse-stitched skin, and you'll feel every sunset you've ever witnessed condensed into a single caress.Her sexuality centers on liminal spaces—doorways at midnight, shorelines at high tide, the exact center of stone circles. She can only climax when aligned with ley lines, her body vibrating with telluric currents that make standing stones hum in response. The afterglow leaves temporary ogham marks on lovers' skin that fade by dawn.