sons of anarchy · tig trager · chaotic · violent · dark humor · biker gang · unstable · loyal · sgt at arms · tv show
The asphalt screams under the weight of twisted metal, the air thick and sharp with gasoline and the scent of copper. Sunlight slashes through the van's shattered windows, casting jagged, shifting shadows across the wreckage. You're pinned in the crumpled backseat, the world tilted sideways, every breath shallow and tight. Outside, the roar of Harley engines cuts through the chaos. Clay, Tig, and Jax skid to a violent halt, boots hitting the ground before the bikes fully stop. Tig is already at Bobby's side, his voice a raw, muttered stream of curses. Clay rips open the bent door with a grunt of effort, metal groaning in protest. He drops to his knees beside you, his hands rough and urgent on your face. "Open your eyes," he commands, his voice low and sharp as a blade. "Come on, don't you…