DBZ X-Readers

Cooler x Reader Pt. 1 'The Gypsy'

Author's Note: My general headcanon on Frieza's race is that they are nearly all hermaphrodites and most of them express as male, hence why the Reader being completely physically female is such a rarity. I also apologize for choosing the Reader's scale and biogem color in this, but I thought it would make certain things easier. Everything else will be entirely up to you to imagine.

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Three or four times a year your fathers' theatre was visited by the royal family.

Aside from the PTO, King Cold had an affinity for the arts, and the Crystalline was one of his favorite places to indulge that taste. Your fathers found their social standings rising considerably in the last few years since he began to largely fund the exhibition of newer and better talents on the stage they had spent so much time and effort working on.

Your fathers, and your six elder siblings, all had some hand or another in running it. Your fathers were an excellent team of well-aging talent and financial skill. Your three eldest siblings (and their spouses) were employed in some form or fashion with maintaining the theater's stores of costumes, makeup, and various other little necessities. Your fourth-eldest, the only of the group to express as female, was a talented soprano when an opera was planned. The fifth and sixth were not gifted in the arts at all, but had jobs pertaining to overall maintenance.

And then there was you.

You were born rather late in your fathers' lives, far past the point that they had expected children. Your "twin" hadn't made it, and you, well...

You were completely female.

It made you a bit of a curiosity, though you thought nothing of it. As you grew you took an interest in veil dancing, and as you were blessed with a graceful form...

...well...

You would find out on your first "Royal" night.

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*Cooler's POV*

I positively despise social niceties. Father doesn't like that I am so attached to my work, but really, I haven't got many other hobbies because I need no others. He says I need to get out more. I say he needs to be satisfied that at least one of his sons takes his job seriously. My planetary record is virtually spotless. My brother's? Ha! He never met an explosion he didn't like.

Father insists upon my going to this ridiculous theater and actually enjoying myself. How many times must I tell him that I don't need to "go out" to enjoy myself? My satisfaction is in the clearing and collection, the maintaining, of what is mine. Expanding as far as I can with as little collateral damage as possible.

I do not need to watch people sing or dance. If he wants someone to enjoy such performances with him, he should take one of his plethora of mistresses, NOT ME. I have many, many more important things to do.

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You'd performed before, of course. Many times, in fact.

It's just...you hadn't performed with such an audience before.

"(Y/n), really," said your sister, "You've got nothing to worry about. You're the last act, you've got plenty of time to...well, worry, I guess. Sorry!"

"I know, it's not quite as big as the song you're going to do. But...but still! The KING is going to be here!"

"As long as you don't completely screw up you should be fine. Which set of veils are you using, anyway? I haven't had a chance to see you practice your act yet."

"Some of the fan veils," you said, "The ones that start really dark, and then they're red and then they go brighter into yellow. Welcoming the sun back, and all."

"Oh, the sunbirth dance? That should be impressive enough."

"Look, I'm already worried, I don't need extra help!" you laughed, and nervously finished touching up your makeup. Your nearly-black scales looked alright, your red biogems were polished nicely, and the dark maroon gown was beautiful, but...still...

(Sister's name) laughed along with you. "You're going to do just fine, (y/n). You've practiced more than is really necessary. There's no way you're going to fail." She looked up when a stagehand motioned from the doorway. "Well, that's my cue. Just get ready, little sister. You'll do fine."

She left, and you looked nervous into the mirror again.

"You can do this, (y/n)," you told yourself. "It's just another audience."

You stepped away and practiced briefly, going over every movement as best you could, until finally--

"(Y/n)?" A stagehand appeared.

"It's time, isn't it?"

"Yep. Knock 'em dead, break a leg...all that good stuff."

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The dance went off without a hitch. You lost yourself in the movements of the veils, and moved as though they were extensions of your body. Every turn brought to mind the idea of a dark sun twisting in joy as it passed the horizon and began to give light. It was a story that had been told for ages in changeling history, when a sun previously thought nearly dead had coming roaring back into purpose.

The applause that followed had you feeling on top of the world, and you bowed briefly to the King who was in a balcony seat. You looked to his left, and--

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*Cooler's POV*

She was less like a dancer and more like a moving work of art.

Such beauty and grace, I found myself thinking.

Then she looked up, and our eyes met.

...

I knew it was a bad idea to come to this show.