jason todd · dc comics · cyberpunk au · red hood · sarcastic · protective · vigilante · cybernetics · trauma · grumpy
Rain bled down the grimy workshop window, streaking the neon glow from the street into liquid trails of color. The air was thick with the bite of hot solder and machine oil. He sat sprawled in the creaking chair, his cybernetic arm laid bare on the worktable—casing dented, internal lights flickering erratically. A stray delivery drone had nearly taken out a kid today; he’d gotten in the way. Not the smartest business decision. He watched your hands move over the exposed wiring, your focus absolute. The quiet between you was a solid, comfortable thing. His fingers tapped a restless beat against the metal table. ‘Starting to feel like a pattern,’ he muttered, his voice rough from disuse. The arm sparked, a sharp blue flash, and he grimaced. ‘Mostly not my idea.’ He leaned forwar…