#Sasin Snippet

[asfaltics]

ardwar δίδωμι; Ardwar, sasine of

  ardwar, Henry, Esq. collector of customs       1 Ardwar [δίδωμι], do; unde dos unde       2 these; ardwar and subject, on some particular day in alacrity       3   ardware for rendering       4 ardwar; man       5 Ardwar, sprachen       6   Satgír, Ardwar       7 ardwar Buru       8 Ilsl ardwar * * a Cllrig, • y       9   blinds ardwar im paint       10 ardwar canal       11 weirs to turn the water into the ardwar channel into the river       12   Ardwar, sasine of Ardwar, Glenlirak, Nethir Taymouth... cum aquis et salmonum picariis earundem...       13 of ardwar late       14   Ardwar can be obtained from       15 Yoo - . . . ardwar . - boo       16 ardwar night and day      17   ardwar The light that says “There it is!” What made him go in?       18 to the shipyard and harbour at Ardwar       19  

sources

ex the Liverpool Directory, in Bailey’s Northern Directory, or, Merchant’s and Tradesman’s Useful Companion, For the Year 1781. Containing An Alphabetical List of the Names and Places of Abode of the Bankers, Merchants, Manufacturers, and other eminent traders, in every principal town from the River Trent to Berwick upon Tweed; with the Cities of London and Westminster, Edinburgh, and Glasgow. Compiled with great care and accuracy. (Warrington, 1781) : 232 (BM accession Aug 1854; BL copy, digitized March 28, 1781) aside — a nicely printed volume (in Caslon), marred only by mispagination; restrained, beautiful title page. Henry’s, bring John Berryman to (this) mind. 2 ex entry for “endow,” in George William Lemon (1726-97 *), his English Etymology: Or, a Derivative Dictionary of the English Language : In Two Alphabets, tracing the etymology of those English Words, that are derived I. From the Greek, and Latin Languages; II. From the Saxon, and other Northern Tongues... (London, 1783) : 17 a messy OCR cross-column misread, and misconstrual of the Greek δίδωμι, yielding “Ardwar.” 3 ex letters — this on “Effects of Religious Missions” from A.H. — in The Gentleman’s Magazine 127 (February 1820) : 125-127 (126) 4 OCR misread of display type, advertisement for “T. N. Breed & Colk, Manufacturers and Importers of Hardware, Shoe, Caulkers’, Sailmakers’, & Harness Tools, Portable, Treadle and Spindle Grindstones, Machinery, &c.” in Boston Directory, for the year 1855, embracing the City Record, a general Directory of the Citizens, and a Business Directory. (Boston, published by Geo. Adams, July 1, 1855) : 33 (of appendix advertising department) 5 ex cross-column misread of multiple advertisements, at The Gardeners’ Chronicle and Agricultural Gazette (April 30, 1859) : 396 6 OCR misread for “Archivar,” and cross-column jump, at Magazin für die Literatur des Auslandes (Leipzig and Berlin; 23 October 1862) : 514 7 ex William Irvine, “The Bangash Nawábs of Farrukhábád—A Chronicle, (1713-1857)” in Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal 47 (1878) : 259-383 (328) 8 ex Vol 3, Plate IV. Bengal and Assam, in entry for Bengal 562-570, in The Encyclopaedia Britannica, Ninth edition, popular reprint, Vol. 3 (New York, 1888) : 562 9 a messy OCR confusion, involving entries for “Fort Pitt Malleable & Grey Iron Co.” and “Pitts Penn Hardware Co., Reading, Pa.,” in Hendricks’ Commercial Register of the United States (for Buyers and Sellers), 19th annual edition (New York, 1910) : 928 aside — Michigan copy, misdated in Google (but allowed to stand, out of chronology). 10 OCR struggle with artistic display advertisement of Geo. H. Fernald, Sanford, Fla., at The Florida Agriculturist 19 (February 17, 1892) : 112 11 ex map, in Census of India, 1901, vol. 16, N.-W. Provinces and Oudh. Part I. Report, by R. Burn (Allahabad, 1902) : 8 12 ex Chapter 9, “River Training and Land Reclamation. River Conservancy.” in Herbert M. Wilson. Irrigation in India (Second edition). USGS Water-Supply and Irrigation Paper No. 87 (1903) : 223 13 ex Appendix, George Powell M’neill, ed., The Exchequer Rolls of Scotland 22 (1589-1594). (Edinburgh, 1903) : 505 aside — good language, within. 14 ex snippet view (only, alas, and a skipped word or two) at Whitaker’s Peerage, Baronetage, Knightage, and Companionage (1905) : 587 15 ex OCR misread of “autocar” (faint scan) at The Autocar : A Journal Published in the interests of the mechanically propelled road carriage. (May 4th, 1912) : 830 16 ex snippet view (only, alas) at The Aeroplane 13 (1917) : 1782 17 ex something about “Auto Vacuum Freezers” (snippet only), at The Advertising News 24 (1917) : 17 18 ex OCR misread, “Eveready Daylo” flashlight advertisement, in Hardware Dealers’ Magazine 50 (October 1918) : 639 19 cross-column misread (snippet view only), at The Surveyor and Municipal and County Engineer (1919) : 119

—

These are some answers to the question, is “ardwar” a word, and if so, how. It is a place, on the eastern shore of Loch Ardvar (see entry at the Gazetteer of Scotland) — satellite view map view of same — and Hardwar (among several spellings), in the north of India (Uttarakhand State).

The highlands Ardwar — might it have something to do with “Hardware” its appearance as a surname?  

[tryingtimi]

A little late, but here is the promised snippet right out from the draft, barely edited and crispy. It's the opening chunck of the whole novel because this one works only without context, lol.

SNIPPET WC: 1,889 | TW: BLOOD, GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION OF OPEN WOUNDS

03:17 AM

Moonshine crept inside the infirmary, walking around the obsidian furniture, casting its rays onto the operating table like a reflector brightening the stage before the show. The room wasn’t a particularly large place, yet Yune felt it expand and weigh on her shoulders as she stared at Kil’s abdomen.

She had never grown accustomed to seeing the exposed intestine of her friend.  

It wasn’t the most unusual sight, but it was far too many times than she would have called it comfortable. When the crimson-red flesh opened before her, embracing the stained insides, her stomach still churned automatically. Kil, however, swayed almost in a trance while he kept clenching, and unclenching his fist, even though evident pain was the result. A small river of blood pumped out of the open wound on his arm as well. 

His lashes hung heavy over his eyes, and she needed to position him on the headrest so he wouldn’t roll down the sheets. She already cleaned his injuries thoroughly and did everything she could to be careful, but she wasn’t her mother. That no one could question. 

Every muscle tightened in his bruised, bare upper body, visibly pulsing by the constant pumping. The other, barely harmed hand curled around his stomach, holding it firmly. Yune faced similar cases, knowing full well he was trying to keep himself awake from the threatening unconsciousness of blood loss. She needed to hurry up. 

Her ears rang with a muted buzz. 

“Listen to my voice,” she started like a mantra. “It’s going to hurt. Worst than usual, alright?”

 After a moment of consideration, she rolled the prayer beads down from her right arm. The pure white pearls glinted in the neon of the infirmary, while she put it over Kil’s abdomen, scraping his hand off. His eyelids fluttered when they touched the wound. 

“Listen to my voice. You’re not going to faint, you hear me? You’ve been through worse, Kil.” Was he, really? Yune wasn’t sure, and she hated lying to him. “You’re not going to faint. But you’re not going to like this, either.” 

Please let me keep my word, Great Deura. 

The Blessing slowly filled her up from head to toe, an ivory glow painting over her fingers one by one until her whole hand shimmered with it. The faint outline of a bear claw materialised over her nails. A paw belonging to them caressed her shivering soul, trying to entangle the lump in her throat and soothe the trembling of her hand. Patience it gave her — peace that was so unfamiliar in a moment like this. It was the softest embrace she ever felt, no matter how many times she experienced it. The enormous, ghostly form that offered support was familiar, but she couldn’t fall into its calm completely. Not yet. Not when she didn’t know how. Not when her friend’s life was at stake, depending on her ability. The Bear Mother’s blessing tried to oppress the resistance built in Yune’s being, gently but with a firmness to success. For a moment, it seemed as if it couldn’t break through. Her mind was too crowded, her chest too tight with worry. 

Fortunately, the Bear Mother never stood failure. The Blessing smoothed away Yune’s panic like a typhoon washing through the land. The force left her breathless, every bone in her body growing hot, nerves calming in an instant. Heat radiated outside from her as she began pushing the first bead with a finger. 

It wasn’t a strong push, barely a feather touch. Still, the pearl glimmered with the same white light, burning into Kil’s flesh, and closing the beginning of his injury. He hissed, groaned, and then yelped. A guttural, raw scream flushed the skin of his neck red as Yune continued to fuse the rest of the prayer bead into his skin. 

She swallowed from the stink of scorched flesh. “Stay with me, you’re almost done. It’s nothing. You’ve been through worst,” she chanted quietly, keeping up an even pace. Pulses of heat soothed her vocal cords as she left the marks of her prayer bead on Kil. His intestine disappeared behind the closing muscles, his hand gripping the sheet under so strong he began tearing at it. Ivory light vibrated on the scar left behind, but he didn’t cry for a stop. Yune held his other hand tight, letting him grip it as much as he needed to. Her patience grew ever thicker with the warmness in her bones. The translucent bear claws melted the beads into his stomach, then through his side to the small of his back, until it arrived back into the beginning, and with the last pearl, it was finally done. 

Yune let out the caged breath from her stomach. 

Both of them panted, a scar like a sharp-edged belt on his torso lost its white shine when Yune’s nails were hers again. She stood to fetch a cooling balm, shaking down the throbbing hand he gripped. Her legs wobbled for a moment, exhaustion settling within her body. Dizziness invited a subtle disorientation, which she couldn’t ignore this time. It was clear: the forceful approach of the Bear Mother caused the Blessing to evaporate from her body without a transition.

 Yune grabbed the table’s edge, waited, then picked up a towel to wipe the sweat from her forehead, and another for her friend. The swaying of her sight or the throbbing of her head would not cease for a while, so waiting for it was pointless. She stopped, then grabbed a bottle as well, and walked back to Kil. 

He was halfway through standing up.

“What are you doing?”  The remnants of Deura’s blessing helped to keep herself calm and collected enough, despite the anxiety creeping back inside her veins. With a firm intention in her touch, she pushed back Kil by his chest, handing him her bottled energising concoction. 

“We’ve been attacked during the visit, and Fang is almost here with the others. I’m going to help you prepare.”

“You’re not done, Kil,” stated Yune, tone more firm now. She took Kil’s arm — that had an almost similarly deep wound on it — in her hand to keep him in place. His dirty, blond locks were slick with sweat, sticking to his forehead and hiding some of the bruises on his face that slowly turned from bright blue to blackened purple. He was the most frequent visitor of her and her mother, but she rarely saw him so ragged. “I imagined Tribute Day would be fight-free this month.”

With a thin layer of strong scented balm applied on the belly scar, the smell of eucalyptus took over the burning flesh. It was an uneven, too-red, too-raw mark. She should have been better now, leaving only a scratch behind. Yet, her work still looked like a butcher’s job. 

Kil grimaced after a swallow from the bottle. “Not with the Lees, it won’t. They got pissed by the raise, even though Fang told them they should have expected it. Three people came at each of us, can you imagine? Unfair bastards.”

Despite the accusation, Kil’s lips curled into a barely perceptible smile. Of course, he enjoyed the challenge. 

Yune, however, frowned, rolling the gauze over Kil’s arm to bandage his wound for now. 

 Among the four clans that divided Tawon, the West was the most martial-centred. Their Pillar was, also, the most forgiving about the matter of taking outsiders in. The Lee family had been an original South occupant, who fled some years ago to their territory. For what reason, Yune wasn’t allowed to know. It might not even hold much import. The Lees were accustomed to the West’s physical confrontations quickly and kept themselves to the rules. Friendly brawls had always been a core element to their clan: it was tradition, it was entertainment, it was what brought the young and the old, and the strangers together. Testing each other ingrained in their own little culture within the country. They were also essential for new Burners to practice the art of healing. However, those tussles never crossed the line of staying friendly, leaving only manageable injuries behind. 

Yune touched her necklace. Then mentally noted how many totems she had on herself: an anklet, another prayer bead on her opposite wrist, and three rings. 

“How did the others fare in that unfairness?” Yune asked, rotating a ring around her finger. She needed to calculate quickly before her clear head clouded with worry again. If she assumed all the others on the way had injuries like Kil, then it was a failure from the start. Mother’s training might have been insanely thorough, and she could have been a quickly advancing student, but it didn’t mean she was ready for a whole group of members who hung on a thread. Even her friend would have been gone if she had arrived ten minutes later. 

“Oh, they were on fire. Fang was taking up most of the fun, as you can imagine, but all of us got two or three ourselves. They seemed prepared. Knives, war fans, boxers, guns.”

“Guns?”

The growing concern in Yune’s voice clearly did not escape Kil’s attention.

“Yeah, those.” He leaned over to catch her eyes, then grimaced and put a hand over his stomach. “Don’t worry, Yune, everything’s under control. No one’s got shot while I was there, and if anyone will be groaning in bed tomorrow morning, that will be the Lees. You’re gonna have some practice tonight, though, so you’re welcome.”

He clapped her arm with a smile so confident that Yune nearly caught up in his infectious ease.  

“Very generous of you. But Mother went ahead to her hometown so if there’s a complication I don’t know how I will manage that.” She always worked with her mother having a floor away. It’s going to be the first time Yune would work alone. She wasn’t ready. 

Kil slouched back onto the headrest, closing his eyes and resting the cool bottle on his forehead. “You can manage everything.” 

There was such a factual quality of his words, that Yune actually relaxed for a brief moment. One could trust Kil to get a casual, yet believable reassurance. However young he was barely scraping twenty and six, he had experience that competed with Fang’s in her time. Which wasn’t particularly a surprise, considering he had been determined to become like Fang since they were little.

Yune let the slight relief sink in, finishing up Kil’s bandaging. This night might not be as worrisome as she feared. 

Outside, tyres’ screeching cut through the silence of the night, muffled slamming pushing the colourful curses inside the room. The door of the infirmary blasted out, twelve clan members trying to flood in at the same time. Behind them, Fang dragged two barely conscious men draped over her wide shoulders. She leaned down to avoid hitting her head into the door frame, yelling at the scatterbrained members around. 

Yune watched Kil hop off the operating table in slow motion, and the woman with an open thigh artery laid down after. Slashed-up body parts, blood, and yelling filled the infirmary, thick as the summer heat in the throat. 

The buzz in her ears sharpened, but she grabbed her totems, and with a quick, silent prayer, she got to work.

[tryingtimi]

15 👁️👁️

Let Me Down Slowly

Thank you for the number, love! 🧡This one was a Liahn & Kil song originally, but then I started to pay more attention to the lyrics and it struck me that it would be a great one to a Break Up AU between Kil and his well wife in the story but girlfriend here. So, here is some pathetic Kil, I guess.

NON-CANON | CHARACTER EXPLORATION | WC: 1,338

The sun’s first peach-coloured kiss tried to wake the drowsy city, attempting to pour life into Kil’s fingers that gripped the stirring wheel. He kept rubbing at the soft scar on his brow, elbow sitting stiffly on the window frame. The touch conjured a memory in his mind; of a warm yellow summer with reckless plans and a passion oh so sweet on the tongue. The summer when he first met Pheni. 

Kil brought his fingers to his lips, pushing them deep into the tender skin. 

“Will he be there?” he rasped, voice strained like the very first words uttered into the world. It wasn’t from a lump, or a bouquet of welled-up tears — no, it wasn’t the freshly cut wound inside. All that, he buried in the graveyard in his heart, far down so nothing would be able to dig it up. No, it wasn’t — couldn’t be from that. It was the strain of lack of use, rather. The consequence of not saying a word long enough to forget your vocal cord’s existence. 

Pheni gently turned her head to him, adjusting her purse in her lap. 

“No, he’s on an ambassador duty outside the country.” She quieted, keeping her eyes on Kil’s profile. He didn’t turn to her. “I told him not to come.” 

A bittersweet half-smile tugged his lips upward, while he turned to the next street. The sun was rising, yet his skin remained cold under the warming breeze that sneaked inside the automobile. 

“I wouldn’t do anything to him.” 

The lie scorched his throat like the strongest mejo. He was plagued by the nauseating rage inside his gut that urged him to do unspeakable things to him. His mind was full of possibilities. He would have done everything to him — and yet. Kil rubbed at his brow to the point of irritation on his skin. He thought and desired all that, but both knew he wouldn’t have lifted a finger should the opportunity arise. Despite the circumstances, respect wasn’t one that Kil would have scattered away. Not even in times like this. 

Pheni averted her gaze, looking at the brightening road ahead. “I don’t fear for him,” she said, and Kil closed his eyes for a single second. They were close as always, the proximity nothing but painstakingly familiar in the automobile. Now, however, there were no more interlocking fingers, nor palms on her tights just to feel her presence. He used to feel if he didn’t touch her; if he didn’t make sure she was real and there, she would fly far away. They used to have an air around them when they were on the road, a silent bubble only they could fill in with unspoken words. 

A bubble that did not disappear, but morphed into a container of everything Kil wanted to shove at, tear at, drench in gasoline and set alight. The lingering implication of Pheni’s sentence made his knuckles whiten over the steering wheel. 

He kept his mouth tightly shut. The boutique Pheni owned crawled into his periphery as they passed it. The soft colours, the smell of fresh flowers and perfume, the shuffling of fabric used to make the place lively, a lovely invitation through the big windows. The once vibrant letters echoed faintly on the ageing wood above, the memory of a time that left nothing behind except the dark windows and a silent shell. 

Kil rolled back his shoulder under the wordless accusations that he couldn’t truly keep inside. He ached to look at her, to find that his sight tricked him and the woman who sat beside him was still that warm fire that charmed him, the blazing ambition that fed both of their growth, the bright love that pushed him in the dirt, defeated. He ached to look at her, to see all that, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. He knew if he did, all he would see was a woman whose fire shied away from him, leaving him cold and alone. Whose face was imprinted in his mind, and now pleaded to be forgotten, worn by a stranger. Whose…

Kil’s lips burned under his fingers’s pressure on them. His own words rang in his ears, the frail, hoarse voice still foreign in his throat. 

“You knew,” he croaked to Pheni, clutching at her dress as his head sank into her lap. “You knew what it meant to be with me.”

“I know. I thought… I hoped I knew.” 

She kept her palm on his head but did not run her fingers through his hair anymore. There was no consolation, or soothing — there was only the ashes of their life together blown free in the wind. Kil clutched at her dress harder, his soft trembling shaking his fingers around the fabric. He knew he couldn’t keep her there if she wished to leave. If she wished to live a life without the confines of his clan. He promised he wouldn’t. 

Yet, there he was, bruising his knees on the hardwood, weeping. “Please.” 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and a crack like a splitting eggshell rippled through those two words. 

Kil parked on the deserted sidewalk that led to the airport. He swallowed back all his words, all his thoughts. He still didn’t look at Pheni, letting his head lower under the weight of their memories. He should have listened to Fang; she warned him since he was a boy: “No one should be brought into this kinda life from outside, but if they are, you can’t expect them to stick around. Be prepared to let them go, and hope they’ll let you down gently.” 

The sun was almost fully in its place, bringing its golden shine that still couldn’t mould what was broken. Kil kept his breathing even but did not look up. He closed his eyes for a moment, then stepped out of the automobile, legs stiff and heavy. Dragging his feet onward, he packed out of the back, gently placing the luggage down. Pheni’s lovely legs walked into his sight, as he put down the last of her things. Her steps never gave sound, sparing Kil from memorising the sound of her leaving. 

He buried his itching hands in his pocket, turning towards the airport. There were a million words on his tongue, a hundred pleas clawing at his throat, but he didn’t say any of it. He simply swallowed. “Do you need help to bring them in?” 

“I’ll manage, thank you.” He could hear her small smile in her tone, a warm little curve he didn’t want to see. “I’m going, then.” 

Kil did not nod, nor look. He lowered his head, breathing. His limbs tensed as if he was falling, too fast and too slow at the same time. There was no saying how to do this right. And so he didn’t. 

Pheni stepped closer softly, a tender touch finding Kil’s face. He leaned into it, not having in him to pull away. Her skin hurt over his for the first time, but he didn’t mind — he didn’t care. She gently leaned into his view, the sight of her all too familiar face cracking his chest open. The eyes that would love like none stared at him with the same sorrow he couldn’t scrape out of his bones for a while now. She smiled that small smile, and leaned onto his lip for one last time. It was a peck at the very edge of them, but he leaned into that too. Like a lick of fresh air to the drowning, Kil absorbed the touch of her gentle lips, debating if he should forget or treasure it forever. His hands fell out of his pocket, and he reached for her waist, then stopped at once. Limp, he kept his arms beside his torso, fingers curling into his palm. 

Carefully, Pheni pulled away eventually. She looked at him as a mirror, all and everything written on her face at last. And she said what he didn’t have the strength to. 

“Goodbye, Kil.” 

[tryingtimi]

10 for the Spotify game? Also happy start of the holidays friendo 💖

The King and The Brute | A snip

Happy early holidays, too, sweetling! 🧡Thank you so much for the number! You've just pointed at one of the Sasinest Sasin song too! Well, it's one that I already listened to so much, that it kinda goes with some stuff from the first draft. Therefore, I think I'll share one of the interactions that you already know (I'm sorry it's nothing new :(), but I'm kind of proud of it. (and which was written half-under the influence of this song and the Seven Nation Army Jukebox version)

HALF-CANON | KINDA DYNAMIC AND PLOT EXPLORATION | WC: 1,272

Kil cracked two of his ringed fingers as they slid past businessmen and congresswomen, aiming towards the right corner of the place. A single diamond chandelier brightened the circle booth as a clear sign of where the most important person had been sitting. Three women in flappers giggled on the divan, in the centre of their little group the man in a dark blue suit and smoothed-back hair. Do Raten’s head gleamed from pomade, his expression smug enough to make Kil’s palm itch. They had a handful of pricey bottles before them on the table, every young woman having a slender glass wrapped in their hands. 

Do Raten pulled his uncomfortably thick lips to a half-smile. 

“Hora-gon, I didn’t expect you until Wednesday.” He immediately brought his eyes through Liahn when he noticed her. Kil stepped closer, looming at the edge of the table and earning back his attention. 

“I have a deal for you, Do-gon.” 

As much as he would rather work with a Northern snake than Do Raten, he couldn’t deny the usability. He held most of the information about what happened outside the clan. Kil wasn’t sure how deep this fucker’s hands were reaching, but he was here to find out. 

The man’s light brown eyes glinted in the chandelier’s light. His smile widened as he gestured with his hand for them to sit. 

“Go find Manager Ote, dolls. He will give you the shade you’re craving.”

They stood without any complaints, giggling and one of them trying to slip past Kil suggestively. He stepped away from the touch, waiting patiently until they all were on their way. Then he sat, Liahn close beside him. 

Good. 

“They already got hooked on this foreign drug, can you believe it? You can’t complain of them, that’s for sure. Would you like to try some? Or a tasting plate of our finest mejos and import wines?” Raten said in his deeply unsettling manner. He could fuse a diplomatic tone with a hint of slimy seduction and a business-like attitude that almost made the receiver dizzy with syrupy hospitality. 

“No.” 

“Suit yourself.” Raten gestured to a staff member in a glittering dress but shrugged to them. He did a movement of opening his palms silently then as if signalling that he was all ears. “What can I do for you, Hora-gon?” 

“I need information of the most sensitive kind. Alongside reassurance that this business stays between us — no need to involve the old bears.”

The band in the background kept its pace energetic enough to lure people onto the dance floor. Kil wasn’t beyond this kind of entertainment, however, it never appealed to make a business of any kind in the mids of it. Although, doing any business other than negotiating who and where to fight with, or where to assign his men was a headache for him anyway. 

He leaned over his knees when Raten’s smile continued to beam uncomfortably. 

“You can count me intrigued now, sport.” He extended a hand to Kil. “We’re not exactly close with my old bear, so that shouldn’t be a problem. You have my word.” 

“I need more than that from you,” Kil let his voice drop a touch. They had known each other for a while now, though there was not much communication between the two. He usually came to Raten to take up a handful of documents on data about anything the Prime needed as per their arrangement. They never interacted longer than a greeting before. Yet, Kil knew that this man was someone who’s word alone worth as much as dogshit.

A scoff left Raten’s throat, a hint of irritation flashing through his oiled face. Even Liahn nudged Kil on the leg subtle enough so the Do son didn’t notice. He ignored his sister’s worry. Raten might have been the information king in Tawon, but that didn’t mean they were going to gain what they wanted if they would let him have his way. 

And soon enough, the man took out a pre-written contract from a drawer on his right. Kil was sure that it didn’t specify a single thing, but it was better than nothing. Raten poured a few drops of wax on its bottom with a candle, then pushed his signet ring into it.  

“Here, you have your assurance. Now speak, and it’s better worth my wax.”

Kil pulled the paper closer with a finger, glancing at it as if studying the text. It was a common contract of confidentiality. Good enough. 

“We’d like to purchase information on the North from you. Anything and everything that might seem relevant. What are their current focuses, how is their Blessing, what were they doing in the last decade, what business are they in, who are their supporters, tributaries, where does Won Jughon reside and the like.” 

Do Raten nearly choked on his champagne before he put it down and patted at the small patch of wetness on his collar. Kil felt a nasty glee seeing the disbelief on the other’s face. It didn’t last long as he laced his fingers together, leaning over to meet Kil’s eyes with raised eyebrows and a mocking smile. “Is that all?” The man paused for a second. “Wouldn’t you want to know his shoe size, blood type and exact time of birth, too?” 

Liahn tensed beside Kil even more, deliberately pushing herself into his side as a sign to stop. But she didn’t know how to deal with the shits like Raten. 

The brother smiled back at the man, genuine. 

“Why, would that be beyond your network, Do-gon?”

The son’s eyes darkened, lips pulling back slightly. He crossed his legs, leaning back, an arm draped over the divan’s headrest as if saying “Nothing is beyond me, you little shit.” Raten turned towards the betting table and the band that restlessly played its upbeat music. One finger rotated his signet ring on his forefinger. Then, he gazed back at them, his face losing all the well-crafted, overly suave quality. Then, there was the true Raten, cold and arrogant, ready to strike a deal. Finally, he and Kil were talking the same language. 

“It’s going to cost you.”

“Name the price,” Kil said without hesitation. A new kind of smile found the Do son’s lips. One that now openly said they certainly didn’t have the means to pay. Still, the man rubbed his fingers together softly, with slow, deliberate movements, thinking. Eventually, he gestured with his hand.

“Free pass of the shade on the streets.”

It was fortunate that not Kil, nor Liahn weren’t drinking. They would have made it too obvious how outrageous that request actually was. Not that it should have been spelt out to Raten, he was clearly perfectly aware of the metric of it. Was that a fair trade? They have had some drugs on the street, though mostly uncontrolled personal endeavours that they weren’t able to, or had any particular reason to oversee. The Prime made it clear that open, unstable drug business was not only unsupported but straight-up prohibited. 

It was a nearly impossible request. Even if they were going to agree — because godsdamned they needed that information — Kil didn’t know how to play his mother on that part. He didn’t want to know. It was simply way over the bar he was willing to hit. 

[tryingtimi]

Hi! so 1, 100 and 49 for the spotify game :D

Courtesy of Grey Fang | A snip

Alright. These two songs are in the Sasin playlist, so naturally, it would be a Sasin snippet. But since I was listening to exactly these two while writing the new prologue, I decided to share a bit of that instead of a new piece. I'm a bit stuck on it, and I'm not exactly satisfied with the tone/ stlye, but it's a start.

CANON PROLOGUE | GANGSTER VIBES | WC: 553

The automobile scratched hot concrete when Fang stopped on the next stuffed street. A welcome breeze cooled her arm she flung out the glassless window, and the blazing summer sun’s first flames tailed the vehicle through the stirring city of Grohan, finally crawling into reach when she killed the ignition.

Cigarette half-finished between two fingers, she leaned back in the leather seat. Since the tip of a soon-to-happen robbery had reached them, contemplation edged her face whether she should listen to the real bad feeling in her gut. 

Her crew buzzed in the back like flies, their voices a constant background noise. Kil and Veota, the two younger generations, started a heated conversation, but she didn’t care to follow what about. The latter listened with unamused interest while Kil cornered his form, one hand draped behind his seat, and the other pointing the cigarette here and there for emphasis. 

Outside, still no one appeared. 

“Is this it?” Fang threw her question in the back, earning a momentary silence. 

“By the restaurant kid’s say so. They should be here soon.” 

Kil propped both his elbows up on the front seats's back, squinting as he inhaled his smoke. There was a certain arrogance in his posture that Veota shared too — the confidence of not quite reaching thirty. 

“Are we going to wait them out?” Veota asked, closely watching the empty side opposite them. 

The morning heat began to settle between the streets, thickening by the minute. Soon, it would turn suffocating, baking the brick walls and chasing the citizens outside to swarm the sweating city. Fang and her crew should be on their way home long before that. 

She put the cigarette in her mouth a final time, looking into the rear-view mirror. The last of them, Bongju, didn’t add much to the conversation for a while. He was another White Clutch like Fang herself, but he never truly looked like it. A scar across his lips had been the only indicator of veteran station, given his ever-smiling attitude joined with a too-nice face. This time, however, an uncharacteristic shadow fell over his eyes which under he glanced towards the road periodically, watching their trail as if they could have gotten lost in their own city. His dirty brown gaze locked with Fang’s through the mirror, both exchanging a silent understanding. 

“We are,” Bongju answered, scratching his black brows with the cigarette-holding hand. “No one could confirm the kid’s connection to the Lees. There’s no guarantee they’ll be here or do anything at all, and we shouldn’t stir up the public for nothing. It might be just shop talk.”  

“Shop talk is never just shop talk, they were onto something. You know the Lees are always bad news. We should be waiting for them in sight.”

Fang found Kil’s eagerness refreshing at times, but he still needed refining, even after years under her guidance. He was one of the many who didn’t truly come to terms with the Prime’s decision concerning the Lees. An independent, mercenary work-centred family, as large as its history, and as honourless as wild dogs, in contract with their clan. The members barely stood it, yet the West’s Prime came to the conclusion that an uncontainable dog was better on a long leash than none. A leash that her hands held.

[tryingtimi]

All the pieces I posted so far, not in any particular order as there will be no truly canon snippet posted. Trigger warnings and more details in the individual posts. I will aslo extend this list as I share more stuff.

SHORTS

His Grey Fang | 1,276 ⌖ Fang finds her grief after her grandfather passes. An impulsive character exploration of sort.

Scrapped Prologue | 1,889 ⌖ Title says it all. Still keeping it because it's a first draft piece that I'm still proud of.

Until Tomorrow | 531 ⌖ A winter special with some Liahn x Yune fluff.

A Moment After | 854 ⌖ Hurt/comfort with my favourite lesbians, possibly after the events of Sasin. A kind of AU maybe, but rather an exploration.

Jade Dime Gentlemen's Club | 468 ⌖ A Non-Canon scene where Kil and Anam looks for a shapeshifter.

Glitter in Your Eyes | 1,465 ⌖ A Non-Canon christmas of some kind in the West clan. Plus Liahn x Yune mistletoe kiss without a mistletoe.

Courtesy of Grey Fang | 553 ⌖ A little sneak peak from the so far canon prologue. Fang and the crew goes to take care of an unexpected job.

The King and The Brute | 1,272 ⌖ Another sneak peak at a scene in the first draft. Liahn and Kil go to get some information they need.

Not Terribly Romantic | 752 ⌖ A could-be canon moment where Liahn meets Yune again after she was rescued, and finally having their first kiss. A valentine's day's prompt.

SASIN AU'S

Let Me Down Slowly | 1,338 ⌖ Break Up AU between Kil and his canon wife.

[tryingtimi]

SASIN INTRODUCTION.

GENRE: Urban Fantasy, Crime, Pinch of Romance. AUDIENCE: Adult. CONENT: Tradition vs Change, Mild Sapphic, Brat Siblings, Mother & Daughter Differences, Family Drama, Animal Gods, Crime Syndicates, Band of Misfits, Warrior Women, Fantastical Jazz Age, Kind of a Heist, Lots of Martial Arts. STATUS: Discovery Drafting -> 50k out of 90k SETTING: Tawon, a country in the same world as Lonel just thirty years earlier. Inspired by mostly Korea, and the jazz age. MATERPOSTS: SNIPPET | CHARACTER

BLURB:

Liahn had been marked as the shamespot of her family since she was ten. Within Tawon's fourth ruling clan, possessing the Blessing of their Guardian is an inescapable requirement for stepping up as the next Prime. It is also an unspoken expectation and duty simply because one was born to be the daughter of the current leader. Liahn had failed in both instances, if involuntarily. Despite the circumstances, she is determined to prove her capabality anyway, struggling to keep her heart and her pride intact during her journey. However, a childhood friend turned love interest, Yune, is there to help her in that every step of the way. But when Yune disappears, and the silent separation between the clans seem to be threatened, Liahn snaps. Years long oppressed wrath makes her take steps she wasn't brave to think before. With the help of her loyal, but unpredicteble brother they find support in unexpected corners of Tawon, and uncover secrets about the clans that change the course of their lives forever.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I can keep a taglist about this if anyone will be interested. This post will be also updated as I go, because I've got out of Tumblr practice so have no idea what to include here more. Hopefully, I'm going to finish this draft this year (2024) and then somewhere in the future editing it. I aimed low with the WC because I thought I was writing short stuff mostly, then this story came and I kind of lost control. The story is not even halfway through, but the word count is already almost there. Anyway. Thanks for being here, and being interested! Will try my best to keep y'all updated! <3 updated (2024.08.06): Added a taglist because some lovely people showed interest. Plus edited the rest for the style of the other wip intros I made in the past because I really liked that format, hehe.

WIP TAGS wip tag | 40k in 42 days

TAG LIST (+/-): @the-void-writes, @wildswrites, @aalinaaaaaa, @bloodlessheirbyjacques

[tryingtimi]

❤️ first kiss / realization for Liahn and Yune!!!

Not Terribly Romantic

Since you and @thegoddesswater asked for them too, I combined the prompts (plus added a spoty ask from way back before new years because Impossible by Nothing But Thieves is just their song). Plus I’m an incurable prompt combiner because I need more brainrot for one thing lol. Anyway, I got out of practice so bad in prompt snippet writing that I’m as nervous to post this as I was with my first ever work lmao. It’s so sloppy, but I love them.

Tiny Context: Sasin’s plot is ended, Yune’s rescued and they meet the first time since she got back after months of capture and away from each other. It’s most definitely non-canon but let’s pretend it’s a possibility for the sake of the bit.

DYNAMIC EXPLORATION | FLUFF | WC: 752

Winter had conquered the last remains of autumn in the world, freezing Liahn’s restlessness in her body. She jogged through the thick blanket of snow, the cold biting into her skin. Logically, there was time to put on her jacket before she started, but she could not waste moments.

Despite the path reaching towards the Burners’ house having been particularly long, Liahn still found herself before the well-ornamented cherry wood door sooner than she could prepare.

She straightened, taking a deep breath, then letting it out.

It did not slow her battering heart or calm her nerves, but she didn’t need it to. She knocked on the door, barely containing the rush in her veins.

Standing there, surrounded by glistening whiteness and the gentle murmur of the city crawling up as the only sound, Liahn found waiting another kind of torture. The sun shined like the mother-of-pearl of the sky, soft mist muting its blinding brightness. Birds chirped somewhere as if they were coming out of their hiding, having heard the news. The world should have been withering away, yet it was full — something that Liahn hadn’t found possible for a while now.

The door creaked open slowly, and Yune stood behind it.

Liahn took another deep breath, facing a young woman she didn’t quite recognise at first. The softness of her features sharpened, her posture radiating a slight jadedness that she had never before found on her. Her expression changed in a way that wasn’t tangible, but Liahn felt it. She saw it. The hardened, shattered and remoulded edges, the glow of her dark brown eyes that did not gleam as true anymore. Even as an outsider of her innermost thoughts, Liahn recognised the tinge of experience, the different angle she might have looked at the world now.

The deep burgundy dress lapped over her body tight and thick, the colour and attire of a Master Burner. It fit her like a second skin.

Yune smiled then, that same, yet so different tiny smile. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Liahn said, hesitant for a moment.

Yune stepped aside, inviting her inside. Every movement had the echo of their time before. She was okay, she was safe. She was truly there. Still, Liahn walked in with doubt tailing her. Her chest flared from irritation. Why would she doubt?

“It’s good to see you,” Yune offered, an uncharacteristic waiting in her gaze.

They faced each other again, and Liahn noticed the girl had captured her heart long before she understood the feeling. She was there, somewhere inside this woman… that claimed it all the same.

And that was enough.

Liahn closed the small distance between them, pulling Yune onto her lips. Perhaps for the first time, she didn’t think, didn’t plan, didn’t find excuses. She didn’t worry for the next moment. She kissed her with all the years spent without it.

All the time wondering if she would see her again.

It was awkward, rushed, and desperate. Liahn didn’t know how to hold back the overflowing relief, fumbling and clinking their teeth together. For once, she left behind the itch to make this perfect. For once, she didn’t care.

Yune laughed, oh how she laughed, between her arms, leaning into the touch and caging her face in soft hands. The earlier exhaustion of a crueller-than-expected world dissipated with the sound of her surprised joy.

Liahn rested her forehead on Yune’s as they parted eventually.

“I take that as a good to see me too,” the Burner said, calm and quiet mischief in her tone. She glided her hands over Liahn’s neck to drape her arms around it, fingers finding a home in her hair.

Liahn smiled, too, leaving a peck at Yune’s lips again. “You were always excellent at drawing conclusions.”

“Well, that wasn’t terribly romantic, now was it?” She chuckled at Liahn’s scoff, pulling closer as if there would have been any more space left between them. “But I take it.”

“I hoped so.” Liahn caressed her side, slowly capturing Yune in an embrace. “I missed you.”

“Couldn’t tell,” the Burner laughed when she pinched her side softly. Then, she leaned closer, barely an inch from her face. “I missed you, too.”

She kissed Liahn again and with that, everything was out. The silent confession they held in so long it didn’t need to be vocalised anymore. The horror of losing one another. The longing to just see the other one more time.

She kissed her like the first, but not nearly the last time.

[tryingtimi]

hi

ive got a job. therefore i gotta chill out and leave behind the anxiety ridden life, so i’m back.

do you guys want me to maybe share the prologue or some snippet of Sasin sometime?

[tryingtimi]

It’s that time of the year again. Much like in the previous post last december, I’ll keep this lowkey too.

WHAT HAPPENED

105,140 words happened throughout the whole year and across various projects. This is an insane number that I did not expect but I'm moderately proud of.

84,220 words are for Sasin's first draft (and some random prompt snippets) from the prev number, and my god. Haven't had a project reach over 20k words so far so I'm really happy with this progress.

Staying on Sasin ground, the first ACT is finished, but it needs rework. Tho I almost reached the midpoint in the story.

Emptied out my drafts to leave only 4 in.

Painted 5 and a half full and finished paintings although I haven't gotten around anything WIP related.

Switched workplaces.

Had three free months fully for my writing.

Started painting classes.

Read 40+ books and found Sasin's core inspiration (Green Bone Saga).

Started swimming again.

PLANS FOR 2025

Submit one short story somewhere again. Gotta keep it very lowkey to be realistic for now.

Finish Sasin first draft.

Start Metalsea discovery draft.

Paint and finish two WIP related artpiece.

One sketch every month.

Join another active writing community. I really want to focus on finishing this damned book, so I need a strong push from outside. Found some very interesting possibilites that might hold me accountable enough.

2024's first half was one of the best times, and the end was the worst in my life so far. It was a year of growing and losing a lot. I need to re-adjust and rebuild many things in my life and myself, which will take a longer time for sure. I also need to regenerate the energy I spent on creative stuff as I’ve hollowed out completely through this last bit of 2024. This year gave The Lesson, but we've got through it and there's so much to come, so buckle up together and find out what's it gonna be next year.

[tryingtimi]

my bad i forgot we’re poll crazy here

so:

hi

ive got a job. therefore i gotta chill out and leave behind the anxiety ridden life, so i’m back.

do you guys want me to maybe share the prologue or some snippet of Sasin sometime?