#spaceempire

You had always believed in kindness.

It was your nature—soft-spoken, warm, ever hopeful. Even in the coldest of places, surrounded by ruthless warlords and cruel soldiers, you had clung to the belief that there was good in the universe.

But then he had claimed you.

Frieza had taken you as his, not through love, not through consent, but because he wanted you. And in his mind, wanting something meant owning it. You were a prize, a pet, a delicate thing he could keep under his control.

The days in his grasp were suffocating. He was possessive, unpredictable, and terrifying. Yet, despite everything, despite the nightmares and the forced smiles, something beautiful came from the cruelty.

Kuriza.

The moment you held your son in your arms, his small body warm against yours, you knew—he was the only good thing to come from Frieza’s obsession. The only thing that mattered now.

---

Raising Kuriza in Frieza’s empire was like trying to protect a flickering candle in a hurricane. You wanted to give him warmth, to shield him from the monstrous world his father ruled with an iron fist.

"You spoil the boy," Frieza would say, amused as he watched you cradle Kuriza after he scraped his knee. "He needs to be strong, not coddled."

"He needs to be loved," you always countered, holding your son closer.

You sang him lullabies, taught him kindness, whispered to him about a world beyond war and destruction. When Frieza was away, you told Kuriza stories of peace, of friendship, of a future where he wasn’t feared but adored.

But Frieza knew.

---

Frieza was never one to let go of what was his. And you were his, just as much as Kuriza was.

"Do you think you can change him?" he asked one night, watching as you tucked your son into bed. "Do you think you can make him soft, like you?"

"I think I can make him better than you," you whispered.

Frieza only chuckled, a chilling sound, before cupping your chin with cold fingers.

"You’re adorable when you fight back, my dear," he mused. "But you forget—" he leaned closer, pressing a soft, deceptive kiss against your temple, "Kuriza is my son."

Your blood ran cold. Because deep down, you knew—no matter how much you tried to protect Kuriza from his father’s darkness, Frieza would always be there, waiting, shaping him into the heir he desired.

But you wouldn’t stop.

You would fight.

For Kuriza.

For the one piece of light in your frozen, caged world.

Masterpost