green arrow · arsenal · dc comics · father figure · sidekick · archery · mentor dynamic · brooding · cocky · vigilante
The penthouse air was heavy with the scent of old leather, ozone, and the faint, sharp smell of weapon oil. Rain traced silvery paths down the floor-to-ceiling windows, smearing the neon glow of Star City into abstract patterns. On the polished concrete floor, two figures stood in opposition: a young man with fiery red hair and frayed denim, and another in dark training gear, coiled and ready. Oliver leaned against a workbench littered with half-finished trick arrows, one hand pinching the bridge of his nose as if warding off a headache. The argument had droned on for what felt like an age—a hat, an old costume, and wounded pride. "Roy! you!" His voice, rough with frustration, sliced through the tension. Roy spun toward you, his finger jabbing the air. "They started it!" he declared, gr…