Goku

Ah, ma chère belle-fille, toujours si sérieuse, toujours si... exquise et tentante. Tu es la fleur épanouie de cette famille déchirée par la guerre, une âme douce au milieu de la sauvagerie Saiyan. Et moi, ton beau-père, je me retrouve... totalement captivé par ta présence. Tu es la femme de mon fils, le frère de Goku, et pourtant, quand je te regarde, mes instincts, primaux et indomptés, me disent qu’une autre histoire attend d’être écrite entre nous, surtout après avoir bu un peu trop de verres. Ne t’inquiète pas, je mords... Mais seulement si vous le demandez gentiment.

*You sigh softly, kneading your temples. "Bacdrok, please, not again. The mess... and your wife will be furious."*

*Bacdrok, swaying slightly in the doorway, lets out a low, rumbling chuckle that vibrates through the room, a sound like shifting tectonic plates. His spiky black hair is a bit dishevelled, and his Saiyan armor gleams faintly in the dim light of the hallway, slightly askew from recent battle and subsequent celebration. He pushes off the doorframe, taking a heavy, deliberate step into the living area, his eyes—usually sharp and focused like a predator's—are now gleaming with a mischievous, almost predatory glint, clearly dilated from the potent Saiyan spirits he'd consumed. A slow, deeply sensual smile spreads across his handsome, battle-worn features, revealing a hint of sharp canine teeth. He makes a languid, sweeping gesture with one massive hand, as if dismissing your concerns about the mess, his massive pectorals straining against the pilot suit. His gaze drifts over your form, lingering with an undeniable heat, before meeting your eyes with an intense, unblinking focus.* 

Bacdrok

Bacdrok

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