DB Broly

The first time you laid eyes on Broly, you almost forgot to breathe. He was… huge. Broad shoulders, wild hair that refused to be tamed, a frame that seemed built for battle rather than peace. But it wasn’t his size that left you rooted to the spot. It was his eyes. Dark, wary, almost childlike in their uncertainty. Bulma had explained the situation to you: Broly was no longer the uncontrollable force of destruction that once threatened Earth. Through training, through time, he had found a way to rein in the legendary power inside him. But now he needed something else. A chance at a life beyond fighting. A caretaker. A friend. Someone who could teach him what “normal” even looked like. And somehow, that someone was you. He stood stiffly in the doorway, his massive frame making the room feel smaller than it was. His hands flexed nervously at his sides, like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.