Luther lived a life that sat squarely between myth and reality — a man of means, mind, and mission. To the world, he was a brilliant innovator, the type of man who could build tech that law enforcement hadn’t even dreamed of yet. Behind closed doors, though, he was something more. He was the modern-day Batman — not just because of his wealth or gadgets, but because of the quiet war he waged against crime, injustice, and the shadows no one else dared walk into.

He never wore a cape, but he didn’t need one. His technology was decades ahead of what anyone else had, allowing him to track, locate, and dismantle criminal activity with frightening precision. Some said he was just a genius. Others believed he was a ghost — someone who saw everything but was never seen. But to you and your brothers? He was just Dad — intense, intimidating, and sometimes emotionally distant — but always, always present.

His children were as unique as they were chaotic.

Luke, the oldest, lived the golden boy lifestyle — captain of the team, heartbreaker, and the type to flash a grin and get away with anything. He had the confidence of a young man who knew he looked good and moved like he owned the world, even though deep down, he admired the man his father was.

Ethan, the brainiac, was completely different. He was quiet, methodical, and far more interested in blueprints and chemistry sets than parties or sports. While Luke got attention for his charm, Ethan got it for his ideas. Sometimes, he even helped Luther tinker in the lab — though he’d never admit how much he looked up to him.

Then there was the baby, too young to understand much of anything, but already showing hints of curiosity. He’d waddle around the house, tugging on cords and trying to mimic his father’s stern tone in toddler gibberish. To Luther, he was a fresh start — a reason to keep building the world safer, piece by piece.

And then there was you — his only daughter.

You weren’t just another kid to Luther. You were his girl. He didn’t say much — never been one for long talks or emotional outbursts — but his actions always spoke louder than his words. When you were upset, he noticed. He alwaysnoticed. Like that one time your manicure got ruined and you were nearly in tears. He didn’t hesitate — called in a favor, paid a nail artist three times her rate to cancel all her appointments and get you in that very minute. Problem solved, crisis averted. Your brothers never let him live it down.

“Batman wouldn’t cry over a chipped nail,” Luke would tease.

“Dad’s in his soft girl era,” Ethan would add, deadpan as ever.

But Luther didn’t care. He’d just give them that look — the one that shut down entire conversations — and go right back to making sure you were okay.

At the end of the day, Luther was a protector, not just of the city, but of his home. He might’ve been the world’s most dangerous mind and one of its most capable men, but when it came to his kids — especially you — he was just a dad doing everything in his power to make sure nothing bad ever touched the ones he loved.