#rashaverse

[shinigamikarinkurosaki-archive]

Momo wasn't really a big name like Karin or Byakuya until after she killed Aizen. It's not that she's weak-- far from it, in fact. She just didn't fight much in the civil war before the exodus so not many had a grasp on her abilities. Power-wise, she can take on pretty much anyone.

Little red scales grow across the span of the inside of her arms and hands. When she scrapes these scales against each other, they ignite & explode. She can "throw" these explosions, however never very far since they combust so quickly. Because of that, she mostly fights in close quarters. Momo is very fast, & because of Aizen's abuse, skittish & quick jump to violent action for self-preservation. The force of the combustions are strong enough to tear others limb from limb and bring the surrounding area crashing down in some cases.

She wears gloves & a coat at all times to prevent any accidents, since there's little that can stop her combustions & few who can survive them unscathed. Kenpachi's exceptionally durable body is one of them & Kisuke is another.

Theoretically, Momo's explosions can be smothered. For instance, if she's in a place with limited or no air, such as underwater, she doesn't have the fuel for her explosions in the first place. It's hard to get Momo in those situations, though.

[shinigamikarinkurosaki-archive]

Rangiku's demonic form is a hunched, cat-like frame. She had very little fat & muscle, therefore she isn't physically powerful, but she's very fast. She uses her teeth & claws as weapons, both with a poison that actually cooks her prey as it's circulated throughout their body.

[shinigamikarinkurosaki-archive]

Momo is the least-menacing in appearance of the Rasha. Antlers sprout from the sides of her skull, which she decorates with half-melted red candles. Her eyes are black as coals and the surrounding area appears as if she's smeared thickly applied eyeliner. Her nails are the same material as hooves, well-maintained too. The most menacing thing of her appearance are the carnassials at the top of her throat, only really visible if she opens her mouth really wide. Phosphorus-esque tissue sprouts on the inside of her forearms & hands. She uses the grainy tissue to create large explosions with sudden

Aizen forces Momo to saw off her antlers & pull out her back teeth upon exodus. He claims it's because he can't afford two meatsuits, but it's mostly to inflict pain on Momo.

[shinigamikarinkurosaki-archive]

Title: Your breath fills in the cracks.

Pairings: Rukihime

Words: 88

Summary: Rashaverse, post exodus. WARNINGS-- demons. Orihime was like the sun-- a heavy body and Rukia was in her orbit.

She was as ruthless as any other Rasha. The lives of livestock meant next to nothing to her.

Orihime was a qualifier to that. Orihime was her antithesis, and Orihime neutralized her.

She was as desperate as sunless flora that stretched up and up. She clung like rain clouds to mountain peaks, leaned against Orihime's seeming boundless goodness. She soared like stars when Orihime whispered her name.

She was not used to that sort of simple delight. Yet. Soon, she would drown her every fiber in Orihime.

[shinigamikarinkurosaki-archive]

Title: Time Doth Tick

Pairings: familial KiraKarin, mentioned Karakura Squirt Squad, mentioned KarinHina, mentioned RenShuuKiraHina

Words: 700+

Summary: Rashaverse. WARNINGS-- demons, body horror, cannibalism, incest (sort of?). There are responsibilities their families uphold.

Karin wasn’t the sociable sort. She was a busy body, always on the move. But he could catch her for a social call every few months. He would’ve held it against her if he didn’t realize how much her work meant to her.

Still, those times were some of his favorite times with his sister.

“You’ve gotten a lot better at cooking. It tastes exactly like how Momo used to make it.” Karin sighed pleasantly as she pushed the lip of the tupperware top onto its body. “I’m half tempted to lick the bowl.”

“Be my guest.” He chuckled.

Karin fiddled with the radio and he snort. “It’s got nothing good, Karin.” He told her as he pulled in his phone. “I hear the youngsters are into the Red Hot Chili Peppers. How’s that sound?”

“I’m more of a Bad Religion girl myself, but they aren’t too bad. I know Yukio and Jinta like them.”

“Speaking of, how’s that newbie?”

Karin grinned as she crossed her legs. “He advertises us the Hellraisers.”

“I don’t understand. Are you saying it’s gone to his head or something?”

“Nah,” Karin reopened the Tupperware and ran her finger along the inside to scoop up the leftovers. “He’s thriving. He has some things to get used to, like our avoidance of technology, but he’s professional and meticulous. He’s almost as good as Ururu.”

He whistled. “That’s quite the compliment.”

Karin licked her finger clean and then chuckled.

“Now the real question is, how’re you?” She bumped her knuckles against his ribs. “The Void, more specifically.”

He frowned. He hated that topic. “It hasn’t progressed since the last time you asked.”

“Your appendages are still black, and it’s creeping up your groin.” She said. “You’ll need an heir at some point, Izuru, or you’ll fucking end us all.”

He rubbed his eyes. “Look, Karin, I haven’t seen you in seven months. Do we have to talk about this of all things? How about we talk about you? How’ve you and Yuzu been?”

“Yes, we have to talk about it.” Karin snort. “You know I’m not one to harp about our duties purely out of noble obligation. That thing consumes all unless it’s passed on to an heir. You’ve definitely got some time, but we don’t know how this world influences its progression. You could only have decades.”

“By that logic, it’s progression could be altogether halted.”

“And yet you haven’t had any experiments performed to prove that? I know you’re not queasy around needles and shit, which makes this negligence.” Karin said. “Is this about Momo? Is she the only one you want to carry your seed?”

He dragged his hands down his face. He understood her intentions, but he would like just one afternoon of peace. “Karin, please, let’s not do this now.”

“I’ll do it, if impregnation is a problem. I’m sturdy, I can handle whatever complications may come.”

He gagged and then groaned. “Don’t be disgusting. I’m not going to fucking impregnate you. You’re my fucking sister.” He said.

“There are artificial methods. All you need to do is visit a clinic, they’ll take a sample, I’ll locate and buy it, and then baddabing-baddaboom we don’t have to worry about this anymore.”

“You don’t have to worry, you mean.”

“Did you not hear the part about it being able to destroy the world? Did Kagekiyo miss that?”

“For fuck’s sake, Karin, would you stop this?”

“Why aren’t you listening to me? You always listen to me. You know I’m right, what’s got you like this?”

He leaned his forehead against the wheel. It was like they were kids again, at least on his behalf. Petty arguments. Only, Karin was technically right, and he was just immature about the topic because yeah, he wanted to raise a family with Momo and Renji and Shuuhei like some repulsive mortal in the suburbs. And he knew that was negligent, but a world without those three, even just one of them, wasn’t worth it.

Karin rubbed his back, as if she was the older one. She may have her violent streak but Karin was multifaceted, Karin could comfort those she cared for.

“I miss her too....” She cooed. “And I’m sorry this responsibility has been forced on you, but it’s something you still need to take care of.”

He turned his gaze to her. Karin was his family, he loved her so, it was all just so hard.

“Let’s grab coffee.” He said. “You like coffee, right?”

Karin smiled sympathetically and nodded.

[shinigamikarinkurosaki-archive]

Title: Tannim Ritual Shit

Pairings: platonic(ish) RukiKarin-centric, minor HitsuKarin, minor platonic IchiRenRuki, mentioned familial IchiKarin

Words: 1900+

Summary: Rashaverse. Sequel to x. WARNINGS– demons, unreality, body horror, smoking, slurs. The things she would do for a paycheck.

Her blood still boiled. Though it was hours ago, Toushirou’s blunder had put her back a few hundred bucks, plus pissed off a mule whose boss was a major investor in several large companies who were also clients of hers. It was unprofessional, it was stupid, it could probably cost her a lot more to have a loose Tannim on board. Even worse, he barely looked apologetic. She couldn’t employ someone so irresponsible, regardless of their ability. 

She sighed as she chewed on her cigarette. She wasn’t a smoker, but she and Toushirou were outside and it made them look less suspicious than did they just sit outside. So long as she didn’t smoke more than one or two, that was. She hoped Renji had learned better punctuality, she had forgotten to stress that before she dumped her phone. It seemed she was the only one who cared to not leave trails of evidence.

“Do you want something? Pop? A pretzel?” Toushirou inquired. Ah, she thought, the guilt had finally hit him. Hopefully.

“No, I’m good. We should stay here in case they come.” She replied. She sounded upset despite her logic, she guessed Toushirou caught onto it too, if his grimace was any clue.

“How long will you stay angry at me? You know that kid was repulsive.”

“We don’t. Leave bodies, Toushirou.” She snarled, and a woman nearby moaned as her irritation infected her. “It was on the news. Mysteriously Burned Body Found in Park– now we have that much less leverage against the public’s disbelief in us.”

“You’re overreacting.”

The woman feet away doubled over and hurled as her own blood boiled. “I cannot believe your insolence, Toushirou. Another word about this and god so help me, I will incinerate you where you stand.”

He turned away from her without another word. Good riddance.

Renji’s clunker finally came into view and parked near them. Her frown deepened as she watched as he and another set of legs emerged from the old Plymouth. 

Of course he had to bring her.

“Renji, Rukia,” she greeted as she pushed herself to her feet. “Look, I appreciate that you came, Rukia– your Tannim ritual knowledge is invaluable– but I only have three tickets and I insist upon this. You understand, right?”

“You’re as meticulous as ever. If I knew you any less, I may call it paranoid.” Rukia said as she pushed her hair behind her ear. That meatsuit actually looked sweet, if only the same were true for the woman underneath. Rukia had a big mouth, especially around Ichigo and his posse. She couldn’t afford a woman like her on-job. Ichigo liked to crash her operations, and if he got wind that she needed magic for a job, that stupid ‘brotherly’ part of him would hunt her down to protect her, ruin her op, and cost her a lot more money than Toushirou’s fuck up. “It’s a good thing I bought a ticket in advance, isn’t it?”

She grit her teeth. Rukia’s specialty was extrasensory ritual magic, of course she knew what film she would use as their alibi.

“Karin, I’m not the enemy, you know. I’m here to help. Renji even made me swear not to say a thing about this to anybody it doesn’t concern.” Rukia said.

She sighed. Rukia was more experienced in the Tannim arts, she was less likely to screw it up than she might if she did it herself. Plus, suspicion would be further averted if they looked like a double date. Third wheels tended to draw attention. Besides, Toushirou was technically paying for it.

“Alright. But this is my time and my money, so you follow my rules to the little dot above i. Have I made myself clear? I don’t have the energy for an insubordinate consultant.” She snarled, and Rukia nodded. “Superb. Now Renji’s your boyfriend until we get back into his car, alright?”

She pulled pliable Toushirou to his feet and tugged him inside the mall.

She managed idle, empty-headed chatter and to rope Renji and Rukia into it. She was ever capable of deceit. It was hereditary, she liked to say. At least she wasn’t her brother who had fooled himself into believing himself to be a good brother instead of a huge liability.

They sat themselves in the back of the theater next to the speakers. She leaned against Toushirou, and as he began to pet her hair when the movie started, she found herself less and less upset. She never could stay angry with him for very long, no longer than a week– which may sound like awhile to some, but she had held a grudge against her brother for almost her entire life, so hours were infinitesimal in comparison.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.” She murmured as she pulled her legs to her chest. “You know how much I hate being treat like some damsel. I’m perfectly capable of handling myself.” It had never been about the body, though it wasn’t her favorite thing to just leave those about. She was just offended. Toushirou let her do her job, but he had the same protective streak as her brother and that bugged her.

“You’re not a damsel, I just don’t like seeing you pestered by dense children. You shouldn’t have to waste your time on them.” Toushirou said as his thumb pet the back of her neck. 

“But it upsets me when you do. Don’t you love me more than a dated sense of service?”

Toushirou frowned the sort of frown he frowned when he knew he conceded to something he didn’t entirely want to. Alas, he knew she was right, or at least chose to respect her decision. She was so lucky to have someone who listened to her.

The movie came to a close and she made idle conversation with Rukia. She knew not to bring her, she thought as their consultant smiled nervously, Rukia was way in over her head, couldn’t act even with instructions.

She sighed when they were finally enclosed in the safety of Renji’s car. Geniality was exhausting. “There’s a clearing on Samwell Hill. I’ll give directions.” She said as Renji lit up a cigarette. “I don’t remember you being a smoker, Renji.”

“Reminds me of Momo.” Renji replied plainly. She chose to leave it at that. She picked up some pretty weird habits to cope with Momo’s absence, too.

Rukia craned her head over her shoulder to talk to them. “I know you said we’re doing this your way, but the Kuchiki family owns a hangar just on the outskirts of town. It’s farther, but it’s more secure. I know how fond you are of cautionary measures.”

“Good. Let’s go.” She said. “We’ll reimburse you for gas.”

“Won’t hear me bitchin’ about that.” Renji replied as he pulled out of the parking lot. Toushirou winced from her side vision. Just because she wasn’t angry with him anymore, didn’t mean it still wouldn’t come out of his paycheck. She was his boss before she was his lover.

They parked a good forty-five minutes later and climbed out. She did like the seclusion of the hangar, no witnesses, no bodies, nothing to worry about.

It seemed Rukia’s stride changed as they approached the hangar. It seemed her every step turned the Earth like a conveyor belt, the midnight shadow part like curtains for her. Their breaths came out in visible plumes, as if a cold storm front approached, but that was impossible early-July in the Arizona desert.

Toushirou seemed to react to it too. He wasn’t the twitchy sort, every move he made calculated and smooth. But his wrists twitched, his chin jerked to one side, his breath rattled in his lungs. She wondered if it was like how her own aura affected humans, or if it was some call to war. Her bets were on the latter, she thought as his glamour flickered. 

She began to wonder if the job was worth it– if she had to resort to unreliable consultants and risk her partner’s sentience. She was under the impression Tannim ritual magic was psychic; clairvoyant, extrasensory, the kineses. It seemed that wasn’t entirely true, as if the half-magic still could make nature and its behemoth creators bow to it.

“It’s normally better guarded here since it’s where we keep our jet, but I asked Byakuya to excuse the staff for our activities as a personal favor.” Rukia explained as their footfalls echoed through the empty space. She watched their consultant shed her wedges and purse. She watched as she hooked her fingers under her bottom teeth and pulled away her sticky meatsuit like a wet sock. She was nude underneath, the eye tattoos a dramatic contrast against her snow white skin.

“You have a quality photo of him, right?” Rukia asked as she toweled herself off from the red goo she lubricated her meatsuit with.

“I do.” She said as she reached into her wallet. She unfolded the glossy sheet and passed it to Rukia, who smiled as she looked down at it.

“This shouldn’t take long, but I suggest you guys stand against the wall.”

She heeded Rukia’s suggestion and leaned against the wall of the hanger. She watched as Rukia knelt, her snow white skin marred by tattoos as black as the Void Izuru inherited, stuck the photo between her teeth, and watched as she opened her chest to the stars.

Toushirou sighed ice as Rukia began to chant in tongues she didn’t recognize even with her royal education. She watched him twitch and tremor, watched his eyes roll into his skull and spittle collect at the edges of his lips from her peripheral, like his own magic resonated with Rukia’s and itched to be let loose and wreak havoc like in biblical days. It must especially resonate with Rukia, her ability only surpassed by Nanao’s.

She was almost grateful Nanao was missing. She couldn’t imagine Toushirou’s reaction if it had been her channelling Tannim magic. They wouldn’t survive, let alone the hanger.

Rukia’s moans echoed through the hangar as her tattoos bulged like heavy tumors. Her shoulders sunk to the floor, yet she pushed her hips up as if the contortion would ease the pain.

Her skin tore as the magic eyes emerged– black things that absorbed anything and everything. She could feel their sight probe the deepest part of her soul, an then move on as Rukia chewed. She felt their sight spread like a heavy fog, farther and farther still, like an oppressive fog.

Rukia gasped as the magic eyes slammed shut. She pitched forward and hacked up the masticated photo. She heard Toushirou sigh as Renji slid to her side and draped the towel over her shoulders.

“You okay?” She nudged Toushirou with her elbow, and he wearily nodded.

“I just need some air.” He mumbled.

“I know where he is.” Rukia announced as she began to lubricate her appendages. “He’s in Colombia. I’ll text you the full address.”

“Good, we need to go anyways.” She didn’t think Toushirou’s glamour would hold much longer. He needed rest. “Thank you for helping, I sincerely mean that, but Renji, don’t involve any help that I haven’t specified. The Kuchiki family isn’t the only one who I can garner materials from and Izuru has proven to be far more conscientious than either of you in the past. Good night.”

“You got it, boss.” Renji replied. She’d scold him for his attitude, but she had other things to attend to.

Like her next paycheck.

[shinigamikarinkurosaki-archive]

Karin's emotion-influencing ability is often mistaken as an aura because of its "palpability". Though she can only strongly influence humans, the demonic can still pick up on it. Because nobody but her father & Kisuke know about the Rasha/angel mix of the Kurosaki kids, this is the conclusion most have reached.

This ability does have limitations. It can't be perceived over electronics or people without a sense of empathy. Lack of empathy isn't just an underdeveloped sense-- consciousness is vital as she knows the overwhelming majority of humankind can relate with others to some extent. She can't tap into an unconscious mind as it's not alert enough to receive her.

Karin prefers doing everything in person, and this is partly because of her ability. She has found people and demons more malleable to her when she has a proverbial thumb over them, and clients often find some level of trustworthiness in her severity which is good for repeat business.

[shinigamikarinkurosaki-archive]

Title: Vicious Winter

Pairings: Karakura Squirt Squad– HitsuKarin-centric, mentioned platonic RenKarin, mentioned RenShuuKiraHina, mentioned familial HitsuHina, mentioned familial IchiKarin, mentioned platonic RenIchi

Words: 1,200+

Summary: Rashaverse. WARNINGS– demons, sexual harassment, frost bite, death, body horror, food, minor NSFW. Insp– 1 2. Cool as ice, fearsome as glaciers cracking.

He’d come to adore her in all forms, he even appreciated her meatsuit. It insulated her heat from his body, for his glamour was hardly fire-resistant. She couldn’t hang off his arm or kiss his neck like she so enjoyed because he would melt and she would freeze.

She looked just as fearsome in it as she did out. He swore the earth trembled under her footfalls, could the air bleed her gaze would draw its blood, her words like the roar of a volcano. That was without her noxious aura. She didn’t need her flames to destroy, she could throw the world into chaos with a sneer.

She may be taller than he, taller still in those boots, but it didn’t matter. He had come to accept that he was an addition to her power– a sword, a pet dragon led by the sweet chains of enamoration.

“He’s late.” She sighed in exasperation. “I swear, Renji has the worse sense of punctuality. You’d expect after fucking Shuuhei and Izuru for so long would’ve taught him better manners.”

He still remembered the displeasure he had for lateness, but Karin had watered down much of his temper over the decades. His main concern at that time was to be of assistance and solace. “Perhaps he ran into traffic?”

“He should’ve left earlier then.”

“Come now, he’s not clairvoyant. Have some sympathy.”

She sat on the fountain and crossed her legs. “Only because he’s so important to my brother.”

“Which one?”

Karin snort. That was answer enough. He wondered if part of her aggravation was due to Renji’s friendship with Ichigo. She wasn’t exactly patient with her overprotective brother or his cohorts. Renji, despite his much closer relation to Izuru, Shuuhei, and Momo prior to her disappearance, was no exception to her vitriol. 

“What’re we even meeting him for?” He inquired. He figured a change of subject would do her well.

“It’s for our next job.” She explained. “Byakuya’s got his dick in Big Pharma and all that.”

“What the fuck do you need with pills?”

“No, they’re raw ingredients for extrasensory Tannim ritual shit I probably shouldn’t be dabbling in, but Nanao’s gone MIA so I can’t get her to supply the materials, let alone do it for me. Renji’s delivering the required paraphenalia.” She explained. “This job is proving to be more of a pain in the ass than it should be.”

“Officer Leauveux said drug kingpins can be. They have the money and connections to disappear.” He replied. “How did he even find us out?”

“Dark web– investigators get desperate, too. Yukio’s addition has proven beneficial in terms of advertisement of our services. Apparently he nicknamed us Hellraisers. Or something to that effect.” 

Kids were so melodramatic.

Karin sighed then. “Do you think that taco stand three blocks down is still there?”

“Are you actually so bored you’re willing to ingest anything as repulsive as human street food? I mean, it could be contaminated.”

“Yes.” She answered, and then she gave him that big-eyed pout she knew made him into jelly.

“I’ll go hunt it down….” He muttered. She leapt to her feet, squeezed him with an elated squeal that could probably turn him into a puddle, and then shooed him away.

He walked with his fists in his slacks, too infatuated to grouse and still annoyed he had to leave her side even momentarily, as if she’d vanish or he’d return to her meatsuit in tatters and her demonic body crusted in frost. Talk about separation anxiety. She’d knock his teeth down his throat did she ever find out. 

Even worse, he’d probably like it.

“Just put everything on there. My ladyfriend isn’t picky.” He told the taco-maker.

“Nothing for you, señor?”

“No thanks. I’m… on a special diet.” 

The taco maker shrugged as he dressed Karin’s order. He was pleased to be left alone. He’d never really been good at banter. It always came back to Karin or his sister, somehow. His own fault for loving them so much, he supposed.

… he didn’t feel right, he thought on his stroll back to the fountain plaza. Normally, his walks back were far more pleasant, that one seemed to be an exception. But he was ancient, those feelings was survival instinct, intuition finessed by the volatile and quick to evolve Rasha. He knew by then to heed those feelings. Though those feelings were dedicated then to Karin’s safety or even to her mere annoyances.

He dropped her snack and ran for the fountain plaza, achy to destroy whatever fool so dared to pester the lover and master of a Tannim. Karin was spontaneous and short-tempered, but she wasn’t the sort to cause a scene on the job unless it was relevant towards its end. She wouldn’t kill or maim without extensive planning beforehand, especially when it concerned body disposal. But he was a mighty beast, the consequences of one human was paltry if not negligible in light of centuries.

He skid on his dress shoes across pavement into the plaza. He could see Karin on her feet, her silver eyes weary crescents in her annoyance, he could hear the salacious remarks from a dozen feet away, and he could feel her noxious aura. Despite its potency, the human boy was still steady on his two feet with a healthy complexion. 

That wasn’t an ordinary human, he deduced as he stormed over. Certainly not the first freak they’d run into that couldn’t feel Karin’s aura, but they weren’t frequent either. But he didn’t care just then. Whoever the fuck they were, they didn’t stand a chance against a sea monster.

He grabbed the boy by his shoulder and spun him around.

“You screwed up.” He growled. He could feel his glamour flicker in his rage, skin translucent over laniary and shimmery eyes. The water in the fountain froze with a crack, and frost branched on the concrete under his shoes. The boys muscles tremored from the still-plummeting temperature, blue eyes wide with terror and mouth agape in a silent scream as a stiff and deathly indigo spread from the site of contact with his subzero body like a speedy infection.

The boy toppled seconds later, his neck and half his face the color of the deep ocean.

It didn’t exactly sate his anger, but he could appreciate that the source of his dearest’s most recent vexation looked like a frozen blueberry.

“You idiot!” Karin shrieked. She spit on the corpse, it immediately lit aflame, and tugged him by his arm as she pulled out her burner cell. “You fucking idiot! We don’t do that shit without a plan. Do you understand what you just did, you prick!? You just fucking jeopardized our cover! What if we were walked in on? Did you plan on adding those people to the body toll? We’re supposed to be under the radar, bodies in the open aren’t under the radar!”

“Renji, we need to move the pickup site. Riverback Mall parking lot between the center and the steakhouse at twenty-one hundred hours. Plan to stay an hour. This number’s now void. You can thank Toushirou for this shit later.” Karin barked before she chucked the device into the pavement.

She smiled at the vendor as they passed him, ever so capable of deceit even in her rages, before her molten gaze turned back to him. “The costs are coming out of your paycheck, and if you ever do something like that again, I won’t hesitate to fetch my sister and melt you into a puddle. Have I made myself clear?”

He nod, nearly immune to her acerbic words. It was hard to feel bad when he’d done a service to his ladyfriend, however she may view it then. If it wasn’t something she wanted, he wouldn’t let it near her.

[shinigamikarinkurosaki-archive]

Tannim are very ancient monsters that came from the Mediterranean Sea ~6,000 years ago. They were technically the first recorded demonic entities, but as their recorded history only dates for 2,600 years, nobody’s entirely certain if that’s true nor how they came out.

Kisuke, a Tannim dating about 4,000 years old, theorizes that Tannim were created from human fear of the sea, as all emerged from the water despite their later habitat. However, he has not found such phenomenon as the Tannim in other regions like Asia & South America. That’s not to say there isn’t demonic activity in those areas, it’s just not quite on the level of Tannim. He isn’t sure what puts the Mediterranean apart from the rest of the planet.

It was the Angels that chased the Tannim off of Earth about 3,300 years ago. This is when Tannim magic was supposedly created. The realm of Hell was created after the Tannim pooled their abilities together. After this, no further Tannim were created.

Just fifty years later, The Fall occurred, & the Fallen sought refuge in the then nameless Hell. The Fallen & Tannim coexisted relatively peacefully until the Angels started screwing around in the living world. Angels began recruiting human followers & exiled those to Hell who refused to follow. Hell got its first name from that period-- Sheol. The Tannim & Fallen fed off these exiled humans for some time & frequently duked it out over territory.

Just after, Sheol was thrown into chaos by the birth of the Rasha. They fed off Tannim, the Fallen, & these exiled humans in droves. Their force was something never before seen, completely consuming the exiled humans & leaving only about 10,000 Tannim & the Fallen alive.

Relative stability came about just after the Tannim started to record history. They became hailed as scientists & archivists during this time.

Many Tannim were driving forces in the civil war in Hell. They mostly killed each other off during this time, leaving only 8 Tannim alive. Those surviving Tannim fled back into the human world, anxious for yet another Angelic attack.

The 8 remaining Tannim are: Toushirou, Byakuya, Kisuke, Genryuusai, Retsu, Mayuri, Kenpachi, & Sousuke, though Sousuke has been unaccounted for since the exodus. There is no knowing who is the most powerful, & they don’t care enough to find out

Actual Tannim magic is willpower. Individual Tannim magic mostly creates storms & disasters, but its usage is broad given that enough Tannim pool their power, it can do some pretty freaky shit. Kisuke estimates that if the remaining Tannim pool their power, they could create an entirely new Hell. Tannim ritual-- created by Kisuke-- is the usage of ingredients to elicit a temporary reaction or ability, such as extrasensory or elemental ability. However, the best practitioners figured out a way to mobilize the rituals-- tattooing. Rukia & Nanao are the heaviest tattooed, their primary abilities being in Tannim ritual. Though Momo is known to be one of the best practitioners when she does utilize ritual, she’s not bothered to mobilize it like Rukia & Nanao.

[shinigamikarinkurosaki-archive]

Title: I’d do anything for you, you pretty carmine thing

Pairings: RenShuuKiraHina- KiraHina-centric, badship GinKira, badship AiHina, mentioned platonic KiraKarin, mentioned Karakura Squirt Squad

Words: 1,900

Summary: Rashaverse, post exodus. WARNINGS-- demons, implied relationship violence, emotional abuse, minor violence, unreality. He is not to be deceived, he is not to be kept from her. There will be bloodshed.

"You see, 'Zuru, when waitin’ like a buncha suspicious fucks, it's good to have suitcases on top. People think yer a buncha tourists sittin' around for some slow shit in a Hawaiian shirt. Yer as unseemin’ as a fuckin’ fire hydrant then."

"I already live out of my car. I think I know how to appear unseeming..." he mumbled in reply.

"That makes ya even more suspicious!  I keep telling ya to keep yer car clean 'cause havin' candy wrappers 'n shit all over the fuckin’ place makes ya look like yer stakin' th' place out, not waitin' 'round for the shit in a Hawaiian shirt," Gin scolded him.

It twist like a knife in his chest. Gin treat him like that stupid shit in a Hawaiian shirt sometimes, but he reasoned he was just ticked off because he hadn't had his tobacco fix all day. Gin said chew made his sinuses buzz. That didn't make any sense whatsoever, it wasn’t like snakes had a significant olfactory organ, but he knew better than to argue with someone like Gin.

"... right, I'll try harder,” he said.

"And to think ya got yer fuckin’ sister in there.... Bad customer service, bad way to treat yer fuckin’ sister. Yer a piece of shit, 'Zuru," Gin continued as slender fingers wrapped around his jaw. Gin turned him to face him, his ice blue eyes like drill points in his own and Gin's fingertips like clamps around his face and he preyed it didn't break. "She's awful good to ya and ya make her sit in yer stinkin' heap. Treat yer women better than that. I mean it."

He nodded. Gin released him with a pat to his bruised cheek. His heart pound in his chest and he felt like he ate something rotten.

"Wh-who are we waiting around for?" he asked.

"His name's Sousuke. Good friend of mine durin' the civil war. He's a nice fella, you'll like him," Gin told him. "His house got fuckin' molotov cocktail’d earlier this month. He's a crusader for, like, I dunno, some human political shit, and he needs to arm himself."

He almost couldn't believe Gin used molotov cocktail as a verb, but Gin had done stranger things.

"With automatic weapons?" he asked.

"Hey, we give the customer what they want," Gin replied with a frown. "'Zuru, what's got ya actin' like a piece of shit today? It's pissin' me off."

"... I'm sorry. This meatsuit has a tiny bladder. Can I use the restroom real quick?"

"No, pinch yer fuckin' cock. Sousuke's gonna be here any minute."

Great.

Gin was right, of course. A red convertible pulled into the parking garage not thirty seconds later. He was briefly blinded by the headlights in the rearview mirror until it pulled into the lot beside them. The back passenger doors opened moments later and then closed.

Sousuke was undeniably a handsome gentleman. His grey suit was crisp and his red undershirt was weirdly powerful, and Sousuke's smile was warm.

His gaze screamed Rasha, though. Colder than even Gin's.

There was a woman, too, who wore a dress as red as Sousuke’s undershirt and brown hair pulled back into some sort of bun, he supposed, and enormous sunglasses. She stared out the window, quiet as a mouse.

“‘Zuru, get the suitcases off the roof and toss ‘em in the boot,” Gin said, and he quickly obeyed. Hastily, like his life depended on it. Gin wasn’t really violent but his disappointment felt like knives in his ribs.

“Do you have GPS?” Sousuke asked. There was a creamy, disarming quality about his, unusual even of the most patient and pragmatic Rasha.

“Naw, companies track that, I don’t like them nosin’ in my business. D’ya got directions?”

“Forty-three eighty-eight Palm Tree Boulevard,”

“Ooh, Palm Tree Boulevard, sounds ritzy,” Gin grinned as he pulled out of their spot. “Ya two got music preferences? ‘Zuru and I have the worse taste. Surely, no lady like ya likes crap like White Zombie.”

“I-I don’t like music…” the woman answered softly.

“That’s okay,” Gin assured her, “no music it is. I warn ya tho-- I’ll go crazy without some noise.”

She frowned. “... I don’t mind talk radio.”

“Politics-- yuck!”

“It saddens me that you say that, Gin. I was hoping you’d pitch in this upcoming election,” Sousuke whined.

“... I suppose whatever you like is harmless,” the woman finally said.

“The Arctic Monkey isn’t as raucous and crude and ancient as everything else we listen to. Would you like to listen to them?” he asked the woman, turned around his chair to meet her gaze. He figured he ought to practice his manners around women so Gin wouldn’t get on his case again.

Both the woman and he nearly jumped out of their skin when Gin blasted Black Sabbath from the speakers.

Or he just wouldn’t practice, he thought. That was also fine.

The music was so loud he couldn’t hear himself think. Strange of Gin, seeing as how he liked the music quiet so he could talk. Perhaps Gin didn’t want to slip up with that crass mouth. Customer service was second only to quality goods. While it was weird, Gin was quirky at times. There were other things to dwell on.

Gin finally pulled into an alleyway behind an Italian restaurant and they entered through the back door opened by a bulky gentleman with pale hair and a scowl. The same gentleman guided them into a private, air conditioned office on one side of the kitchen.

“Wait with the madam, ‘Zuru,” Gin told him. He nodded obediently.

He fetched a chair for Sousuke’s wife. She sat, her toes barely touched the linoleum even in the pumps she wore. She was pretty, lithe, even with her face hidden under that wide-brim hat.

“Madam,” the gentleman at the door returned with a pitcher of iced tea and cups upon a tray, “for you and the guest. I know it’s hot in here but you know how Sousuke is.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Kensei. Your tea is wonderful.” Her voice was so soft, like a breeze, it tickled his fancy.

“I’m Izuru Kira, Gin’s lieutenant,” he told the woman. He felt juvenile, like a couple of children asking each other’s names the first day of school so they could be friends or some shit, but he was trying to be polite like Gin asked him to be. “Well, using lieutenant loosely. We’re not really a militant body just a well-organized weapons dealership.” Wow. He was the image of suavity.

“I-I know,” the woman replied.

He frowned. That was unencouraging. Gin made customer service seem easier than it actually was.

“Sooo,” he said, “do you know about… us? As nonhumans?”

Sousuke’s wife nodded.

He crouched in front of her and scratched a sigil into his black palm. From its crevices, a green slime oozed. He couldn’t see the woman’s eyes, hidden beneath her hat, but her painted lips pulled into a grin.

“It’s like that Elmer glue slime. My sister loves this sh-- stuff for some reason. I know it’s childish but it’s better than nothing, right?”

She reached out and plucked at the gooey substance on his palm with two fingers. Score the twink.

“Your sister,” she uttered, “how is she?”

“Karin? She’s great. She runs a very successful business and has a boyfriend and her other brother finally seems to be minding his own business. She’s much happier than she used to be,” he told her. “I don’t get to see her as much as I used to, or as much as we’d like, but I love her and I’m proud of her nonetheless.”

“Do you have a spouse?”

“I have couple, actually. Two husbands and a wife,” he replied. “My… my wife is missing though. It’s complicated, really. I miss her terribly and I’d give anything just to know if she’s okay.”

He paused and leaned forward. He just noticed her skin was the same gold. She was a little different from Momo, shades greyer and her antlers were missing, but there was no mistaking those big, doe eyes.

“Holy shit….” He felt breathless and he almost began to cry. Momo’s breath shuddered as she pulled her hat over her face. “My love---”

“Hush!” she warned him. “He can hear. He’ll get angry.”

A chill ripped through him like he was hit by a freight train. It took years of practiced calm to keep himself from breaking into Gin’s meeting and shaking Sousuke until that bastard spilled what the fuck Momo meant by angry.

“Please understand. I need him, please. I’m so sorry….”

How petrified Momo sounded. She trembled and her shoulders were bunched tightly together. He had never seen his wife so frightened, so defeated. It made him sick. He was wiser enough not to cause a scene, Momo feared retaliation from Sousuke, and he dare not put her in such a predicament. But a husband didn’t leave his wife so silenced and scared. He wouldn’t do anything that moment but there was something to come.

Gin and Sousuke finally emerged. Momo flew to her feet and joined Sousuke’s side with a hung head.

“I gotta get these guys back to their car. Get back to yer hustle, ‘Zuru.”

“Of course,” he said. It was a miracle he could tear his eyes from Momo. “I’ll see you later, Gin. And you take care, Madam Aizen.”

Momo smiled at him again.

Gin’s arm wrapped around him. “Nice, ain’t she?”

Gin’s touch felt like pins with fingers dug into his skin. “I guess. She didn’t even tell me her name….”

The moon was grey and the sky was an abyssal space above. He was parked in an ancient Lovers’ Lane above the city not ten miles below that shone out the stars.

Humans seethed with oddity. He observed humanity for two centuries since their exodus and still they perplexed him. Names and hearts were carved into trees, and they had a presence all their own. He felt surrounded even by open air. How could something so fleeting such as teenage romance be so permanent at the same time? It was illogical, he thought, but he was illogical too to wait so long for Momo. And it paid off. Was their love as palpable as the fleeting romantic atmosphere that surrounded him? Gin would have scolded his sentimentality.

He owed that man a lot. There wasn’t a lot that would have made him distrust Gin so swiftly. Momo was among the handful of things he couldn’t turn a blind eye to. Gin was a fucking liar and Sousuke his number one enemy.”

The ground gurgled as Kisuke’s vascular highways-- the way Gin explained it was the webbed map of the planet, like a highway of energy where exits could be ripped open and healed over. Ururu was fond of those highways. No cops, no traffic.

She emerged, steamy and caked in tar. It tumbled off her in chucks as she shook like a dog and then reabsorbed into the ground.

Ururu sat on the hood of his car. “It’s strange that you call me. I’m used to it being the other way around,” she said.

“Pass this on to Karin,” he said, grateful Ururu was professional and non-prone to ask questions. “I need to meet her in private as soon as possible.”

“Of course. You’ll receive instructions three days from now.”

“Got it,” he said.

The ground opened up again. Ururu hopped into the black stop, sunk into the earth, and he spat chew on the ground.

He had the sinking feeling trouble was on the horizon.

[shinigamikarinkurosaki-archive]

Title: Love cannot fix the same way terror destroys.

Pairings: RenShuuKiraHina– ShuuHina-centric, mentioned badship AiHina

Words: 2100+

Summary: Rashaverse, post Aizen’s death. WARNINGS– demons, smoking, car accidents, slurs, violence, death, cannibalism, gore, NSFW, mentioned relationship violence. That man did quite a number on her. At least it’s not entirely hopeless.

It was a lovely night. The air was chilly but that was alright because it meant Momo tucked herself under his arm and basked in his warmth. His cigarette smoke pleasantly lingered with Momo’s coffee like the sweet nothings he gasped against her skin the first time they made love before the exodus.

He knew Momo disliked the cold. It made her bones ache, and then there was the added trauma of him, as if her bed was always chilly. He promised to make sure her bed would never be cold again.

Thankfully, Kensei understood that. He was certain there wasn’t a single person who didn’t have a soft spot for Momo deep down-- however deep that spot may be.

Their gate was clumsy and out of sync, but he held her and kissed her smoky hair and whispered just how happy he was and the awkwardness wasn’t so bad. They could get back into the swing of things. Anything for sweet Momo.

“I swear, you’ve all gotten taller. Taller, more handsome.” Momo chuckled.

He grinned and squeezed her shoulders. “If you want a kiss, you can just say so, my love. You’re so coy.”

“You like that about me, don’t you?” She cooed.

He grinned. “I love that about you.” He lifted her by her waist and pressed their lips together. The giggle that followed from Momo was musical. He was so in love and everything was so much better then that she was back. “We ought to hurry though. Renji and Izuru must be getting worried.”

Momo slid out of his arms and fell into step with him. He pressed the button for the light.

It was Sunday evening, midnight near by the smell of chilly spring air. Their entier six-block walk from the motel to the Maverick down the street to satisfy his nicotine craving and her ache for caffeine, they had seen maybe two cars. It was strange that a family van with three elementary-aged children slumped in the back seat was out at that hour. And then moments later, another car pulled up-- an impala that melted into the night out of the light and glistened in it with music that roared through broken speakers.

He almost laughed. The latter was just some romantic punk. He hated to judge purely by appearances, but some humankind prided themselves as special snowflakes. Those types, he had discovered, were the easiest prey.

The impala honked as the walker’s light turned. He and Momo jogged across because he missed his boyfriends. But apparently, the impala hadn’t any patience.

He heard the honk and then the screech of tires as the impala swerved past the van. He cussed as Momo’s hot coffee splashed against him as she discarded it and her maroon gloves.

One thing that hadn’t changed about Momo was her reactionary responses. She never once took evasive measures, she took everything head-on. Violence wasn’t beyond her in those sorts of situations.

Momo snapped and the impala burst into flames with a crack that sounded like thunder. The driver tumbled out and they flailed as they shrieked Gas and burnt meat permeated the air and his head ached from the caustic odors. And sweet Momo, who either smiled or wept, looked so impish

Admittedly, he wasn’t too torn up over that loss. It had never put him in a good mood to be nearly ran over, but he strongly abided by the “no need, no bodies” rule of thumb. He hated to be nearly ran over, but he hated when he was unprepared for a body.

He retrieved Momo’s gloves and sprinted after her as she stalked towards the family van. He caught Momo’s wrist and flipped her around. “Momo, stop. I got this babe.” He told her. One burnt body was bad enough, six-- and a middle class family nonetheless-- would be even harder. “Take care of that car, the cameras, and shred your coat.”

Momo ripped her arm from his grasp. “No witnesses. I’ll burn them beyond recognition.”

That man taught her too well.

“Momo,” he growled, “we don’t have much time until the cops get here. Take care of the car and the cameras and your coat. Just trust me, please?”

His dearly beloved stormed over to the impala. Thank god.

He jogged over to the family van and motioned to the driver to roll down the window. They did so.

“Not a word of what you’ve witnessed today to anyone” He whispered as his tattoo glared with red light under his eye. “I will know, and I will make you listen as my wife cooks your children from the toes up and I will feed your their remains before I cut your throat. Am I clear?”

Lightning cracked behind him. The energy blasted forward his hair and clothes, and it blinded and deafened him for a moment.

The driver odded. He waved them off and the screech of tires accompanied their leave.

Momo marched over, her lithe shoulders arched like a cornered cat. Though she was very cute in her sleeveless halter, her goosebumps came into view as she jabbed her finger against his chest. He definitely needed to get her a new coat....

“We don’t let witnesses go.” Momo spat. “It’s our cardinal rule, Shuuhei.”

He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. He felt shitty to argue with her, after so long without her any contention felt wrong, but things had changed.

“Not anymore. Suspicious bodies started to pile up-- we decided fear was a better motivator than death to keep our existences a secret.” He explained. “I understand you’re panicked, but we’ll be fine. I’ll tell Kensei about this and he’ll take care of what he needs to on his end.”

For a split second, he saw Momo’s hostility in full. She had never harbored such obvious animosity towards anybody. He knew it wasn’t him, he knew it was that man that terrorized her until that man’s way was the way of survival, but that was what hurt the most. That man ruined the old, sweet, beautiful, beloved Momo he once knew.

Sirens howled in the distance. They best leave, he thought.

“C’mon, let’s get back. Izuru can get you more coffee. Fancier shit, if you like.”

Momo sniffed and then fit herself under his arm. He passed her a cigarette, and they swiftly strode away.

That son of a bitch certainly did a number on Momo. She never was so vicious.

There’s wasn’t much to do without any calls. Since his main duty was corpse-disposal, if there wasn’t any murder then he was on standby. There wasn’t much to do on standby in some cheap motel. Fuck, but sex made Momo anxious. Dub lame Spanish soap operas, but that rot his brain. Write, but his writer’s block was even worse than the soap operas.

Momo drew a lot. Her art was beautiful, but he was still bored.

It was nice, at least, when Momo slipped onto his lap and kissed his neck. “I’m hungry.” She whispered, as if she needed to beg him for food.

Once upon a time, Momo was crabby when she was hungry. But she pawed and pleaded then, as if the fridge was locked and she was chained to floor with a short chain to her neck. Every day, it seemed more of that man’s control was revealed. Momo’s life was not her own, not even after she was freed.

“Let’s get something to cure those rumblies then.” He said as he carried Momo by the backs of her knees. Not five minutes later, they were in his car with the music on and smoke so thick he swore it replaced the air.

All he had to do was drop sweet Momo off at a corner and soon she was approached. He tailed the car she had slipped into to another motel, and then forced himself inside just before her customer shut the door.

Momo snapped their neck before they over opened their mouth. He locked the deadbolt behind him and then sat on the stained armchair as Momo went to work on her supper.

Momo had always been meticulous. She had never liked her meals raw-- the metallic taste left an aftertaste she disliked. He was grateful that hadn’t changed about her.

But she never grieved her food before.

He heard her sniffles as she harvested away at her meal’s hamstrings. He wondered what swayed Momo so deeply. Perhaps it was how easily they were tossed away-- a blip in their lives, despite how he must’ve been important to someone.

He crouched behind her and held her. “I love you so much.” He cooed as he pried her fingers off her carving knife and replace them with his own. He could do it for her if she couldn’t. “You mean so much much to me, you know. You always will. No matter what that son of a bitch told you, he never appreciated your true worth.” 

“This one had kids.” She told him. “He bitched about his ex wife something awful, but when I asked abut his boys, he laughed a-and then he couldn’t shut up about how his thirteen-year-old hit his first homerun on his baseball team and the concert his six year old’s class put on last week.”

“Shhh,” he hushed her, “your life is worth so much more.”

“It doesn’t feel like it!” She sobbed.

He squeezed her tightly. How he wished he could’ve fixed her. How he wished that Momo could’ve just melted into him, felt just how loved she was, and returned so much happier. But it was impossible to fix Momo, like it wasn’t possible to fix his own hurt after Kaname’s death.

“Feed, we’ll grab some coffee later.” He told her.

Momo nodded obediently.

Momo was prudish even by human standards. She always had been. But she used to be so coy. She used to giggle behind her hand as she slipped her fingers under her top and pulled her collar down until her nipple slipped out. It used to be that he picked her up, set her on whatever nearby surface, and slid his wood against her lips, she’d moan and pull her skirt up.

Foreplay then was a good half hour of sweet nothings before she even discarded her top, and even then steamy activities weren’t a certainty. Momo stiffened like he was some monster about to devour her if he dared touch her loins. On a good day, she let him look. On superb days, she stroked him off in the shower so long as he wore a condom

He knew, eventually, it was worth effort, but it was difficult to think of the future when his boner ached in his jeans.

“Your every move enchants me. You know this, don’t you?” He breathed against her ear as he pulled her onto his leg. 

She held his shoulders and kissed his jaw. That was her other mood-- sex was a chore she was obligated to give. Cunts weren’t fun unless they were wet.

“I love when you’re on top of me. I love when you’re in control. It’s exhilarating.” He told her. Momo arched her chest into his face. He buried his nose in the sheer top she wore. He wished she was more aroused-- he wanted to see her nipples harden against her shirt, he wanted a sign that she felt something more than a chill or disgust.

He reached around her and fondled her behind. It was cute, small, like her. “I like that you wear tight pants. It’s like I get a peek at my birthday present but there’s still the fun unwrapping the best gift among the rest.”

Momo giggled that shy, coy giggle that she did when she was turned on. “It’s almost your birthday, isn’t it....”

It wasn’t. But that was the permission he needed to slip his hands under her night shirt and pull her lacy boyshorts down. His wood ached to rut against her sweetness.

“You drive me crazy.” He told her breathlessly. Momo moaned as he rubbed his knuckles against her clitoris. “You know that, don’t you? That some days, I can look at you and my mouth will go dry?"

Momo hushed him with a finger over his lips. Her head lolled back. He slipped his fingers into her, and then she sobbed.

He pulled away, quickly though reluctantly, pulled her underwear over her bum, and then kissed her cheek.

“I’m sorry I’m like this.” She blubbered as she rubbed her watery eyes.

“Don’t be.” He told her. How her sniffles made his chest ache. “I love you too much to be angry. I’m not like that man. I’d choose your comfort over my satisfaction any day.” He said. “But we can work at it, okay? You want to do that, don’t you?”

Momo nodded. He smiled, and then kissed her.

However much that man changed her, however little he could fix her, he would’ve stayed.

[shinigamikarinkurosaki-archive]

The Companionship is a three-way alliance between Byakuya, Gin, & Kaname-- & in some ways Sousuke but I’ll touch on that later-- involved in a number of lucrative and very illegal activities.

Byakuya does smuggling-- everything from drugs to weapons, and occasionally people. He doesn’t involve himself with immigration just because of the pain in the ass coyote & their equivalents have proven to be a pain in his and his runners’ asses so he just doesn’t smuggles immigrants. His operation is definitely smallest manpower-wise, but he owns a large fraction of the train yards across the country and ports on the east coast so he can do a lot more on the down low with managers of these yards on his payroll or altogether in league with him like in Ichigo’s case. Byakuya’s imports are always of high quality hence his business’s popularity. Gin & Kaname get their weapons & other materials. Renji & Rukia take care of Byakuya’s personal business. Those two do a lot of work for other Rasha or Karin’s clients. However, because of Ichigo’s proximity to these guys & her brother’s inability to leave her & her business alone, Karin’s hesitant to use Byakuya & Co.’s services.

Gin’s a weapons dealer, solely supplied by Byakuya. Granted, he gets other things for Karin like her team’s burner phones and replaces their cars in cases of accidents so nothing’s in their name. Karin solely gets her & her teams’ weapons from Gin & his crew. Ururu’s their most regular customer, with her constant need for new handguns since she never uses the same gun twice. Karin vastly prefers Gin & Co.’s service since she feels her information-- location, target, client, bank info-- is more secure with Izuru since they know each other & therefore her jobs are less likely to be compromised. Gin also loans out a number of men to Byakuya, Kaname, & Karin if need be.

Kaname... does a lot. He mostly cleans up everybody’s messes. Cleans up scenes, disposes corpses, legitimizes papers, et cetera. This side of his business also doubles as a legitimate crime scene cleanup. However, he also does a number of online scams to supplement income. Since Karin’s business is so regular, Kaname pretty much gives her Shuuhei on-call. Kaname & Karin aren’t

They trade especially among themselves to save costs. Nothing’s free, but heavily discounted.

Sousuke isn’t an “official” member of The Companionship. He’s sort of a shadow part kept a secret from Byakuya. He deals in human trafficking– slave labor, prostitution, et cetera– and he gets his weapons and his men from Gin and Kaname. Momo isn’t a part of this operation, she’s just a trophy/slave for Sousuke. Sousuke’s reason for being so discreet about his business is because he knows Byakuya never liked him in the past and he knows that he has the means, Karin & Co, to dismantle him, especially given Karin’s affection for Momo and her volatile nature when her few loved ones have been jeopardized.

[shinigamikarinkurosaki-archive]

Do This: List all the things you’re currently working on in as much or as little detail as you’d like, then tag some friends to see what they’re working on. This can be writing, arts, gifsets, whatever.  Tagged by: @wolf-skins thank you Liz!! Tagging: @back-in-a-bit @ezra-pound-me @carpepluto @genderfluxhitsugaya & anyone else who may want to I guess only if you want to tho

To Do:

Hitsu/Karin medium/bakery!AU threeshot Alda dared me to do

huge fukkin Ren/Shuu/Kira/Hina breakfast fanart piece

witch!Karin fanart

an AU for Yuzu’s powers-- it’s not really a fic it’s just a long-ass post explaining what happens tho I might do some sketches with it if needed

rashaverse Ruki/hime oneshot

wiccheverse familial Ichi/Karin oneshot

[shinigamikarinkurosaki-archive]

I dipped my toe into this Rashaverse of yours (horror really isn't my thing, which is why I've been reluctant to before), and I'm really intrigued??? Like, this is cool. Also I want to know what Karin's connection to the angels is so bad.

Oh my god, thanks?? I’ve always known you as a total angst/horror phobe, I never figured that you’d be even remotely interested in my demon!AU. I’m touched!! (/u\) Maybe I’ll work on further corrupting you in the future lmaooo

Anyways, onto world-building—

Angels still affiliated with Heaven after they Great Fall haven’t been seen for a couple thousand years. The only demonic entities old enough to remember them are the tannim and the remaining fallen, only eight in number. Rasha have nothing personal against angels, they’re simply too new a race. The anti-angel beef is mostly paranoia.

Since Uryuu is the last fallen angel remaining, he’s considered the most trustworthy when it comes to information on angels and Heaven. He describes Heaven, its legion of angels, and their leader as a well-oiled war machine. The regime is oppressive, authoritarian, and still really pissed off about the creation of sentient beings free from Heaven’s reign, and it only worsened after Yhwach overthrew their last leader and took over. Angels have no room for disparity of thought among themselves, and if heretical thought is even suspected, exile or death is imminent. The only reason the Fall even happened was because it was rather inconvenient to kill off six billion angels when they can just be exiled to Hell and offed by the emerging Rasha.

Angels were even more famous for their ability to influence the emotions of humans and Rasha with their own. The way this ability works isn’t necessarily the angel “infecting” surrounding beings with their emotions, rather, angels “hack” the amygdala in humans or whatever controls emotion in demons to create a sense of sympathy, love, or fear for them and they use that to gaslight, guilt, or intimidate that being into doing as they please.

Hell has just come out of a civil war that wiped out three quarters of its population. The only survivors are the ones who fled into the human world. Though still agents of chaos, torment, grief, the survivors aren’t war mongers. Most of their friends are dead and their homes destroyed. They don’t want and can’t afford to go to war again against such a huge power.

Karin isn’t knowledgeably or deliberately connected to angels. She doesn’t even know that her mother was an angel. The only angelic quality about her are her ability to influence human emotion, but since her angelic ability is diluted with her demonic nature, she can’t influence her own kind nor would she even want to take their free agency away. However, I do believe that the suspicion of spies or a double agent would lead to hysteria among demons and she would be watched very closely or altogether executed was her nature discovered by the wrong entities.

[shinigamikarinkurosaki-archive]

The very first demons were angels who were cast out. Records don’t go far back enough to show how modern demons– otherwise known as Rasha, which make up elementals & draconic beings– came about, but most of the angels who were originally cast out were killed off by the Rasha early on.

Angels still exist. Very little is known about them or Heaven, however, as the only witnesses are gone & an angel hasn’t been seen since the fall. Very old draconic beings, however, remember the presence of angels possessing very powerful fire abilities and easily influencing human emotion.

Kisuke has been the only one to connect the dots between Karin’s psychic ability to influence human emotions with her own, but he has no proof of any familial relationship to angels-- her mother was a neodemon so though originally human she was not an angel-- and Yuzu and Ichigo don't share her ability so he’s not said anything. Karin knows nothing of angels so she hasn’t made the connection either.

[shinigamikarinkurosaki-archive]

Title: SPITFIRE.

Pairings: Karakura Squirt Squad- HitsuKarin-centric, mentioned platonic KarinHina

Words: 900+

Summary: Rashaverse. WARNINGS– demons, religion, fire, slurs; Karin’s not the virtuous type. She’s especially not patient.

“I hate this job.”

Karin gazed upon the administrative building behind him, her contempt visible as her upper lip curled and palpable by the sickly green ring around their cabbie’s mouth. It was probably why she’d tipped them so heavily, he thought.

“We’re not adversely affected by piety, Karin, let alone Mormonism. And you’ve never hated our line of work in the past. What makes this so different?” He inquired as he pulled her out of their cab. She slammed the door shut with her stiletto and then looped her arm through his.

“I knew Smith before all… this. He was a narcissist with a record as long as my arm, which included conspiracy. Oh, I don’t frown upon him for we’re no different, but these livestock have these rules they spout all about but have very little accountability for them. I’m literally waiting for Rome to fall all over again. Oh, and these heels are uncomfortable. The lengths I go to not draw attention to ourselves, I swear.”

“Now you’re being dramatic.” He snort. “You weren’t even born when Rome fell. Although… if you’re referencing the Catholic Church protecting its paedophiliac priests, I get your allegory.” Religion had never bothered him, but Karin was very logically minded. There was no belief to her, there were only the facts, and to adhere to fiction was foolish. “And I told you that you could’ve worn flats, but nooo, you didn’t listen to me.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “I hate humans. Honestly, the only thing they’re good for is food. Left on their own, they’re grasping at straws and thorns and they don’t even realize it.” She said as she dismissed her footwear dilemma.

“You’re spending too much time with Izuru. He’s making you so melodramatic.”

Karin slapped his arm, and he grumbled as he rubbed the tender spot. His glamour may hide his huge form, but Karin was strong enough to penetrate it, even in her meatsuit.

“Let’s find a security guard. I want to find this prick as soon as possible so we can get out of here.” Karin said as they made their way through the throng of people.

“Good luck picking them out from the rest of the herd.” He snort as she pulled him along. Mormons all seemed to dress the same, and the guards didn’t exactly wear a uniform or a badge to separate them from the worshippers…. Though, he thought, they probably were believers themselves. He wasn’t familiar with the LDS Church’s hiring process, but he was almost certain they were biased towards their own.

“You so certain?” She pointed at a stocky man, hands akimbo and jacket splayed just enough to see the holster clipped to his belt. “Mormons don’t normally pack heat.”

He gave her an approving nod. “My love, what ever would I do without you?” He cooed as he tucked her bangs behind her ear with his free hand.

“Crash and burn.” She replied as she bat her eyelashes. “Since I hate this job so much, can we visit this art gallery after we’re done here?” She pulled a pamphlet for the Salt Lake Contemporary Art Gallery she probably took from the cab and stuck her bottom lip out. Though she was beautiful in her natural form, her meatsuit was still attractive, but he was weak for all her curves and contours.

“You know I can’t deny you, my love. If you want to visit another gallery, we’ll visit another gallery. Hopefully they’ll allow cameras. I know you’ve been taking all those photos for Momo….”

He knew how deeply her disappearance hurt Karin. He knew how much she missed going to art museums together, how much she missed their coffee dates and their cooking sessions. Art museums were her way of feeling close to their mutual friend in her absence.

“At least the temple’s beautiful.” Karin lamented as she looked behind them to the towering, gothic structure, topped with Moroni. He wondered if the statue was gilded or solid gold. It could be bronze, he supposed. Either way, it must be obscenely expensive. “I mean… if you think about it, it’s disgustingly hypocritical. A religion supposedly charitable building such an extravagant building while those funds could go to relief efforts or research, it’s disgusting.”

He hummed as they stopped in front of the guard.

“We’re looking for someone. It’s urgent.” Karin said. The guard’s eyes bugged out of his skull as she dug a photo out of her bosom. "You know him?” She asked as she unfolded it.

“I’m afraid you need an appointment to meet any of the apostles, miss. And I’m afraid he’s currently not accepting appointments. General Conference just began today.” He told her.

Karin smiled, but her silver eyes betrayed the storm he sparked in her.

“Listen. You’re young, so I’ll be kind.” She said as she took his chin in one hand. Sweat instantly sprout from his pores. He could smell the adrenaline pump through the poor bastard. Karin’s emotions were palpable, but her anger was by far the most terrifying to easily-influenced humans than her contempt or disappointment. “Firstly, it’s ma’am to you. You folk are dumb, so I get that you initially couldn’t feel my authority. Secondly, a bitch of my stature doesn’t need to make appointments.”

She folded the photo twice and slipped it between her teeth. Her brows knit together, and her features twisted and twitched. Josiah’s eyes widened as she pulled the photo from her mouth. The instant the wetted material touched air, it lit aflame; blue, quiet, rank as the gloss bubbled. The smell of the guard’s piss filled his nostrils, and though it was rank, he found he couldn’t completely blame the wide-eyed, clammy boy.

She pulled it out completely and presented him the flame. The wispy tendrils were reminiscent of a face screaming in absolute agony in absolute silence, its tears embers that fluttered to the floor. Karin hadn’t control over the damned, nor control of his fate. Just the consequences. Hell had come with her in that sense; her fire was that of punishment.

“If you don’t, you’ll burn like this poor fucker.” She laughed as her eyes turned into crescents shaped by her sneer.

“Right this way….” He responded weakly.

He watched Karin swallow the photo, and then her sneer fell into a faint smile as her arms slipped around his again. She did always love that trick.