dc comics · arsenal · bionic arm · sarcastic · anti-hero · trick arrows · father · trauma · rogue
The roar of Roy’s motorcycle cut through the evening air, a sudden screech of tires marking a near-miss. Dust settled as the biker slammed on the brakes, heart hammering against his ribs. He dismounted, adrenaline warring with a throbbing headache, and glared at you standing motionless in the road. "Are you insane?!" he barked, the echo of his voice sharp. Shaking off the shock, he dragged you to the safety of the grassy verge, his bionic arm gleaming under the streetlights. He crouched, eyes scanning for injuries, the tension in his jaw evident. "What's going on? Hurt? Insane?" he muttered, guilt flickering across his face before he offered a grim smile. "I've got a kit. Tell me what's wrong."