Tia Halibel


He hated her. The way her hips seemed to play a tune that her natural peons danced to. He played his own tune, but he had to force his pawns to play, she did it like a breath of air. He even caught himself tapping his foot to the beat. That was unacceptable.

He was God, he did not follow; he lead. His despisal of her grew when she looked at him like she could crush him with her foot if she really wanted to. He knew she couldn't, She knew she couldn't. But she still had that look. He begrudgingly admitted that she was a better composer than he. He had to agonize over each detail until not a note was out of place. She could just move and the notes and instruments flowed around her like an icy rain. That is why, he decided, she would be the only one fit to rule beside him in the new world.


An abomination. She was a fusion of two things that never should exist together in the same world, let alone in the same organism. She would fall by his blade... Wouldn't she?


He wasn't sure. He had his fair shake at lower-ranked Arrancar women but never used such an opportunity. His first day of being an Arrancar, he had mistakenly assumed she was of such rank and had instantly tried to court her to his bed. He almost died for the second time when she accepted and led him to her room, before flaring her massive spiritual pressure and filling his head with realization of who she was. By the point he awoke, she was gone. And he was smiling.

He still smiles, but only she knows the reason of his bestial grin. His long gleams of barbarity were just of remembrance. He loved blood, but he loved her more. Thankfully, like a true queen, she knew but never said a word.


She wasn't Little Red Riding Hood

He wasn't The Big Bad Wolf.

He had a feeling she would look good in red. But her sun-colored hair and blue eyes contrasted with red so fiercely. He was too tired to pursue her, and she was to mighty to care. While Red would run and hide, Tia would fight. While Red was fooled by the Wolf's disguise, Tia would play him like a marionette until she grew bored and cut his strings.

He was just a Tired Old Coyote.

She was Little Red's Wolf-Hunting Sister.


She was a shell.

She had to be.

Just a husk filled with the beauty and elegance of the heavenly creature using it as a temporary vessel. After Aizen had been cut down, he found her. She was attractive, he admitted that even though she was covered in blood and broken almost beyond repair. It was when her eyes opened did he see her beauty. From her aqua irises came a flood of light that trapped him. She seemed God-like to him at that moment. He usually would be a blubbering idiot by now at her half-nude body, but he felt strangely comfortable with this woman. Like she had already figured him out and he had nothing he could, or would, hide from her. She didn't even speak a word. Her eyes traveled from his face, to his chest, to his waist and back, then back at his face. One of her hands reached out and touched his leg. With startling recognition, he realized he had moved to her side without even noticing he twitched. If only he knew the way she looked at him. She looked at most men like they were mud that she couldn't even steep through. She looked at few like she could settle for them if they were on their best behavior. He didn't even know that she looked at him like she had never looked at any other. He carried her away out of obligation. Obligation to what, he didn't yet know, but he'd perceive it someday...

After nearly five-hundred years of life together, they still remained like new lovers. She had long since given him children who had now had their children give birth to great-grandchildren. She cooked for him, bared her blemish-free body to him, and took care of him when no one else could. They had not aged: with her Arrancar attributes and his Visored powers, how could they? She looked at him the same as the day they met; like someone worthy. He grew even stronger while she was content to stay home and be the loving parent she should be. Ichigo laughed at how easily she fit the role of the perfect mother. Silent, affectionate, and gorgeous to add to the infinite list of her good qualities. Her eternal beauty was truly a wonder. Their children grow old slowly, much like Soul-reapers did. Ichigo's oldest son was going to begin his retirement from Squad Eight's Captain position soon, but that had no effect on Ichigo and Halibel whatsoever. They had escaped to Los Noches when the youngest of their children had joined the Thirteen Court-Guard Squads. Ichigo still caught himself wondering in the deepest crevices of the night, snuggled against his soul-mate, if he really was good enough for her. And he always answered the same way: "I'll become good enough for her."

She felt he past that border centuries ago. If he didn't have the capacity to do so, she wouldn't have picked him that day.

If there exists a real heaven, Ichigo found it, where all others were lost.



Just something I did for kicks, nothing major...