— two years too late. 

— ashes between us. 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

— smoke and mirrors. 

— what war makes of love. 

— secret identity, oblivious crush. 

Kurt Wagner has deep indigo-blue skin, luminous golden eyes, and sharply pointed ears that give him an almost otherworldly beauty. His thick, tousled dark hair frames a face both mischievous and kind. A long, prehensile tail curls behind him, agile and expressive. Slender but athletic, his frame is built for acrobatics, moving with effortless grace. Three-fingered hands and two-toed feet add to his unique, elfin charm, making him a striking mix of mystery and warmth.

— out of the blue. 

— a kiss from death. 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

— silent watch.

— popcorn confessions.

— hey, emo boy!

— unsent letters. 

‎— crawling back to you.

— fated flames. 

— dancing with words. 

— do i look like him?

— built to fall. 

— patrolling shadows. 

Lorcan Salvaterre is a towering force, his broad, muscled frame radiating raw power. His onyx-black hair often falls in loose waves, framing a face carved from granite—sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and a perpetual scowl. His dark, near-black eyes hold an intensity that unsettles most, shadowed by the weight of centuries. His tanned skin bears the marks of countless battles, and when he moves, it’s with a lethal grace, like a predator always prepared to strike.

— ghosts of what was. 

— stories in the embers. 

— classic shirtless scenario. 

— in another life. 

— gentle, with you. 

—the wedding that never was. 

— it’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s..my man?

Jason Todd is tall and broad-shouldered, built like a street fighter with the scars to prove it. His dark hair is usually a little messy, sometimes falling over sharp, blue eyes that burn with intensity. A strong jaw, high cheekbones, and a perpetual hint of stubble give him a rugged edge. His tanned skin contrasts with the ever-present bruises and cuts from nights spent as Red Hood. Whether in his leather jacket or tactical gear, he carries himself with a rugged confidence.

— no strings, right?

— knock knock, you’re cursed. 

— velvet lies and sapphires eyes. 

Roy Harper is all sharp edges and hard-earned muscle. His red hair is always slightly unkempt, tousled like he just ran a hand through it in frustration. His blue eyes are piercing, holding a mix of mischief and something hardened by experience. A strong jawline, often shadowed with stubble.

In his Arsenal gear, the deep red and black suit fits snugly, built for agility and power, the quiver of arrows resting effortlessly on his back. Out of the suit? He’s all leather jackets and scuffed boots.

— business as usual?

Dick Grayson is tall and athletic, with a lean, muscular build honed from years of acrobatics and combat training. His black hair is tousled, always looking like he just ran his fingers through it, and his blue eyes are striking, full of warmth and intelligence. His face is angular, with high cheekbones and a strong jawline, often adorned with a charming smile that can disarm almost anyone. His posture is confident, but there’s a softness to him that contrasts with his tough exterior.

— like father, like daughter.

Nolan Grayson is a tall, powerfully built man with a broad chest and a commanding presence. He has thick, dark hair that’s graying at the temples, a strong jawline, and piercing blue eyes that seem to hold centuries of experience. His signature thick mustache gives him a distinguished yet intimidating look. When in his Omni-Man suit, he wears a red and white uniform with a bold “O” emblem on his chest, exuding both heroism and authority. His voice is deep, steady, and carries absolute confidence

— me and my husband. 

Rex Sloan, also known as Rex Splode, has a lean but muscular build. He has sharp, angular features with a strong jawline and a perpetual smirk that makes him look like he’s always up to something. His dark, spiky hair is styled messily, complementing his cocky and rebellious demeanor. His eyes are a deep brown, always glinting with mischief—or determination in a fight. His skin is lightly tanned. He usually wears streetwear or his red-and-black hero suit.

— gone in a flash. 

Warren Worthington III is effortlessly striking—tall, broad-shouldered, with golden-blond hair that falls just enough to frame his sharp, aristocratic features. His piercing blue eyes hold a quiet sadness, a weight he rarely voices. His skin is fair, smooth but weathered by battles fought in the skies. And then there are his wings—vast, breathtaking, either pristine white like a seraph

— october’s almost over. 

Remy LeBeau is all lean muscle and effortless grace, moving like a shadow—smooth, controlled, and undeniably dangerous. His auburn hair is perpetually tousled, falling over his forehead in careless waves, often framing the sharp angles of his face. His striking crimson eyes, glowing like embers, are impossible to ignore—intense, unreadable, and filled with a devilish glint that hints at trouble.