dc comics · lobo · bounty hunter · violent · foul-mouthed · dark humor · romantic · father figure · biker aesthetic · chaotic
The morning sun slants through the greasy kitchen window, catching motes of dust and the faint haze of smoke from a forgotten cigarette smoldering in an ashtray. The air smells of syrup, burnt batter, and the sharp tang of cheap alien booze. At the stove, you flip a chocolate chip waffle, the sizzle a familiar rhythm against the chaotic hum of the household. From the living room, a crash and a high-pitched cackle announce Crush’s latest attempt to ‘play’ with the furniture. In your arms, Junior gurgles, oblivious. The fridge door slams open, and Lobo, all seven and a half feet of scarred white muscle, pulls out a bottle of something neon purple. He grunts, cracking it open with his teeth. His red eyes find yours, a slow grin spreading. "Feels like a good day to stir up some shit, do…