#mr wayne

[korraofthereef]

STOP—PLEASE, I CANT—I CANT BREATHE

credits to @/phantocor on tiktok

[the-fiction-witch]

Let The World The Burn Chapter One - Five

Nine years, after the brutal murder of Mayor Don Mitchell Jr at the hands of the riddler, his widow and son are supported by Bruce Wayne for the foreseeable future. But Unbenounced to Mrs Julliet Mitchell her son Luka Mitchell is taken under the wing of Bruce Wayne far more directly, funding his education and training the now nineteen-year-old Luka for yet undisclosed purposes. After all these years Luka has formed a cold detachment from the uncaring world around him. That is until he finds himself growing close to a new classmate who goes by Rose Asher, the two share all their secrets with one another as they fall hard and fast into a whirlwind romance that may have more layers than it first appeared.

Chapter One - The Gotham Rain

Luka Mitchel sat up in his room, he watched the rain as it fell against his window, illuminated only by the orange street light outside. It always rained in Gotham these days, so much so that it seemed comical. More than once Luka wondered how the whole river hadn't come up to claim them yet. He sat on his bed, legs crossed, elbow rested on his knee, and his chin sat on his knuckles. His washed-out jeans felt stiff to sit in and often caused him to shift, and his blue long-sleeve t-shirt fell loose around him to hide his many bandages. He kept it all hidden away, he felt he had to. The house didn't feel like home, it never had and he had no intention to share his secrets within it.

Every so often thunder would crack or rumble, a flash of bright white lightning across the sky, but he rather liked it, the sound brought Luka comfort compared to the endless silence without it.

He perked up a little as his bedroom door opened with a sharp whine, light flooded in from the hallway, shadowed only by the figure of his mother Julliet Mitchel. Her heels clacked on the wooden floor, her tight stockings adding a small swish to her walk as her legs rubbed together with each step, Her tight silver dress left little to the imagination, her hair done and make-up pristine.

But all of it made Luka feel sick to his stomach, unwilling to even give his mother a second glance.

"Luka darling? What are you up to?" she greeted with a cheerful and hopeful smile,

"I was just watching the rain..." he replied, as he refused to move his gaze from his window,

She smiled softly and closed the gap between them, trying to take a seat on his bed but he made no space for her to do so, so she abandoned the attempt. She brought a hand up and stroked across his face but as always he flinched away.

His flinch caused Julliet's smile to drop and she bit back a sigh, "Well, I'm going out tonight. With Steven."

Luka nodded slightly and tried to bite back his rage,

Steven was the newest in a long line of lovers his mother found comfort in. Even if Steven was closer to Luka's age then to Julliet's. But it always made him sick, to think his mother was out with these men. But he knew he couldn't say anything about it.

"I see... I assume you'll be gone all night?" He asked, but he already knew the answer,

"Yes, most likely." She nodded, "I've left some cash on the counter, why not get yourself a pizza and have some friends over?" she suggested hopeful to perhaps coax him from his room,

But Luka didn't have friends.

He almost wanted to snap at her but held his tongue and forced a small smile. "Okay... have fun."

"Alright, have a fun night, darling." She cooed, she pressed a kiss to his cheek before she headed out of his room and left the door open a crack.

He tensed as his mother kissed his cheek, but he knew he'd upset her if he fully moved away. He waited until he heard her leave, once he heard the door lock, the car left with her date. Luka sat and just listened to the rain for several more minutes as he tried to return his mind to the calmness he had before.

After a while, he forced himself out of the bed. Luka slipped on his black boots and walked down the stairwell. He pocketed the cash on the kitchen counter, grabbed his coat from the hook and tossed it on. He took his keys and locked the door behind him and made his way out into the rain.

Chapter Two - LIAR

He walked silently through the rain and took cover under trees and overhangs as much as possible though he ended up still soaked. He walked the damp sidewalk, for a while before he met the immense black gates of Gotham Cemetery. He snuck inside without much noise and headed to the usual place.

Luka was completely drenched by this point, but didn't care. He just stood in silence as another crack of thunder came through. He looked at the ground and almost tried to distract himself as the greystone stared back at him.

The stone read 'Don Mitchell Jr. Husband, Father and Honourable Mayor of Gotham City.'

But the stone also had bright green graffiti over it reading, 'LIAR'. It had appeared some weeks ago, but Luka hadn't the mind to clean it off. After all he'd learnt about his father these years since his death, it felt accurate.

Luka began as usual to talk to his father. He told his father about all that happened since his last visit. About his mother, about school, about bullies, about all the things he felt he needed to know. But, He still kept quiet about one aspect of his life. Even the dead weren't privy to such a secret.

He finished up and said his usual goodbyes before he turned on his heels and headed for the gates. But a sound caught his attention and he froze up.

The snap of a twig.

He remained still, silent and listened through the rain to hear the footsteps as they grew louder and louder.

Without even a second thought Luka slipped his hand into his coat pocket, and his fingers found a home around the blade he had stolen. His heart raced at the thought of truly using it. He flipped around prepared to attack, but he jumped.

It was a girl.

Chapter Three - Rose Or Rosie Too

She stood in the rain, she wore a black coat that hemmed around her knees, with a trail of small red buttons, her hands in her pockets, with a little red Breton hat that hid her hair.

Luka practically jumped out of his skin and quickly released his grip on the blade. "You… You almost gave me a heart attack," He gasped,

"Right place for one." She joked,

Luka couldn't help but chuckle slightly at her morbid joke as he slowly came closer to her. "Hi,"

"Hi," she greeted back,

"So… are you visiting a grave or…?" he asked a little unsure how to make conversation,

"Not visiting. It's just a shortcut home."

"Shortcut? Through a cemetery? at night?" He asked as he raised an eyebrow.

"I don't find the place that spooky." She shrugged, "far more terrifying things down a back alley in Gotham than in a graveyard."

"Fair enough…" He chuckled. He knew some of the alleys in Gotham you were guaranteed to run into some very unsavory characters and the worst you'd find in a graveyard is a raccoon. "So, I assume this is not your first time taking this shortcut?"

She shook her head, "No, I've taken it almost every day."

He smiled a bit at that. "Then how come I've never seen you before tonight?"

"We only just moved here."

"Oh, I see…" he chuckled slightly and gestured around them both, "I'm assuming this isn't the only possible way to get to where you're going, but… Maps?"

"Maps." She agreed, "and I like it here."

Luka narrowed his eyes, "What's there to like about a cemetery? It's full of dead people."

"It's peaceful. Quiet."

"Yeah… I suppose that's true,"

She nodded softly, "What about you?"

"I come here for a bit of peace and quiet as well… but I come for a specific reason too," He said as he gestured to the gravestone,

"Sorry-"

"Don't worry, it's fine," He said, "Actually… What's your name? I don't think I ever asked."

"Rose. Or well Rosie too."

He smiled as he heard her name. "I like that. I'm Luka."

"Very cute." She laughed, "The name… Not you- well… you too."

Luka couldn't help but laugh and blush a bit, "No need to correct yourself… unless of course, you don't mind me pointing out you're pretty cute too."

She laughed, "Thank you,"

He smiled and chuckled, his own laughter somewhat hid his small blush, "You're welcome,"

"Where do you go? For classes?"

"Oh, I go to Gotham Prep…" He answered,

"I'll be starting there on Monday," she smiled, "Maybe you could show me around."

"I… I think I could do that, yeah." He said with a nod.

"You don't mind the new girl hanging around and having lunch with you?"

"No, I wouldn't mind that at all." He said immediately, almost a bit too quickly. he did hope he didn't sound too desperate at the idea of someone wanting to actually hang around him,

"Great." She smiled, "uhh here." She dug around her pocket, pulled out a marker, and then offered him her hand,

Luka raised an eyebrow but slowly slid his hand into her own, he felt her soft skin brush against his own callus fingers.

She smiled and squeezed his hand before she moved closer and wrote her number across his hand with a little heart. She capped her Sharpie and smiled up at him before she gave his cheek a small peck. "Text me later, promise?" She smiled as she began to walk away,

He was left a bit in shock as she suddenly kissed his cheek. He was too stunned to really think straight, "Wait- yes, I promise!" He called out as she walked away and made sure she could hear him.

Rose soon disappeared into the rain and darkness of the night,

Luka's heart still raced a bit from the kiss left on his cheek. It was the first time he had ever had a girl kiss him, even on the cheek. He stood there for a moment as he watched where she had vanished into the night before he eventually looked at his hand, he smiled at where she had left her number. The little heart she put next to it only made his smile grow. He quickly put his hand in his pocket to keep it dry and began his walk home.

Chapter Four - You Like That Mat Today?

Luka stood resolutely in the heart of the gym, the familiar atmosphere thick with the scent of metal. He focused his mind, set aside any distractions, and allowed himself to enter a meditative state. The mat beneath him felt cool against his bare feet, as his body moved instinctively in a steady, rhythmic pattern.

With each bound, he could hear the sharp whistle of air rushing past him, the rope sliced through the space between his agile feet and the mat. His hands formed perfect, fluid circles as they expertly coordinated with the movement of the rope, gradually he picked up speed until it whipped around him like a blur. Breaths escaped from his lungs in rapid, short puffs, as beads of sweat streamed down his forehead, and traced paths down his chest and arms.

Luka was dressed in his signature workout attire. A pair of form-fitting red leggings that clung to his legs and a sleek black muscle tee with the harness of weights strapped securely around his shoulders and waist. His arms were graced with bandages and plasters to conceal his bruises from prior sessions. His hands wrapped up with red tape to keep his grip.

The gym, nestled deep within Wayne Manor, bathed in dim light, felt like his personal sanctuary on Saturdays. He had already pushed himself through a varied regimen, he had already logged hours on the treadmill, the rhythmic pull of the rowing machine, the solid crunches on the sit-up bench, and the fierce energy of the battle ropes. Each element of his routine was meticulously crafted to hone his strength and endurance, to prepare him for whatever challenges lay ahead.

"Ten more, then climb." Alfred barked from his seat on the sit-up bench as he took a sip from his water. The older man had been monitoring and supporting Luka all day, and made sure to push him a little more every week, "Yes?"

"Yes Sir," Luka spoke up,

"Count ten then climb."

"I've already done -" Luka gasped,

"Yeah well, should have answered me the first time."

"Yes sir..." he sighed, "One. Two. Three. Four.. Five.. Six... Seven... Eight... Nine... Ten."

Luka felt a rush of adrenaline surge through him as he dropped the rope, the word escaped his lips with an urgency that sent him into motion. Without a moment's hesitation, he discarded the rope onto the mat beneath him, its fibres absorbed the sudden thud. He took a deep, sharp inhale, to fill his lungs with air before he sprinted across the mat, his feet pounded against the surface. With a determined leap, he surged upward and grasped the thick, braided climbing rope that hung overhead. His fingers dug into the coarse fibres as he ascended. He pulled himself higher, and let out a few grunts as he clawed his way toward the top.

"Good, good." Alfred nodded,

The gym door creaked open with an unsettled whine and echoed slightly. Bruce strode in, his posture both determined and slightly weary, clad in his familiar black suit pants that hugged his legs and a crisp white shirt. His usual polished appearance was marred only by the stick he leaned on, an unintended souvenir from a recent skirmish related to his nightly escapades as Batman.

"Afternoon, Master Wayne," Alfred nodded to him, as he got to his feet to fetch a seat which Bruce refused.

"Luka!" Bruce called out,

"Yeah?" Luka smiled as he reached the top of the rope, he hitched his body over the metal rails and hung his body upside down to see him,

"Don't be cocky." Bruce snapped, "Down. Now. And climb, don't just jump."

Luka rolled his eyes and climbed down the rope. Once his feet hit the floor once more, Luka grabbed a towel to pull the sweat from his skin.

"How's he done today?" Bruce asked,

"Alright," Alfred shrugged, "Clocked a little lower than last week,"

"You put his weights up yet?"

"No, I figured we'd get him back up before we add more."

"Alright," Bruce nodded grimly,

"I'm right here, you know?" Luka chuckled,

"I'm aware." Bruce snapped, "You can start coming in on Sundays too then till your numbers get back up,"

Luka rolled his eyes and groaned, but knew he couldn't argue,

Bruce simply glanced at the mat,

Alfred nodded and headed to the mat,

Luka sighed and tossed the towel over the weight rack, He rolled his shoulders and stretched out.

Alfred did the same and the two settled into position.

"Don't go easy on him." Bruce chuckled,

"Hey!" Luka protested,

But Alfred took that moment to attack, almost getting Luka down, But the younger boy brought his attention back to focus. The mat soon became an intricate dance of punches and blocks, swings and ducts, steps and slashes. Many of these manoeuvres ended as always, with Luka on his ass.

"You like that mat today?" Alfred laughed after he once again knocked Luka on his ass,

He groaned with his back flat on the mat, "Yeah... well, all things considered. It's pretty cosy."

"Sure it is."

"Get up Luka," Bruce told him,

"I can't... I'm dead." Luka joked,

"And if this had been a real fight you would be, get up." Bruce ordered, "Nothing can be accomplished on the floor."

Luka smirked and used his feet to wrap around Alfred and flipped them over, "Nothing?" he raised his eyebrow,

"Enough." Bruce snapped,

Luka let Alfred go and helped pull him to his feet,

"Shower, then meet me in the study" Bruce snapped before he made his way out of the gym,

Luka sighed, gave himself another wipe-down and a gulp or two of water. "Am I in trouble?" He asked Alfred,

Alfred simply shrugged but gave Luka a look. A Look Luka knew well, he was in trouble but Alfred of course won't tell him why.

"Ffiiiinnnneee..." Luka groaned before he made his way to the shower.  

Chapter Five - The Knife

After a long and hot shower, Luka made his way slowly through Wayne Manor, his black duffle tossed over his shoulder. He held his breath as he reached the door to Bruce's study, and brought his hand up to the wood to knock.

"Come in Luka." Bruce snapped from within before Luka's hand even met the door,

Luka bit his tongue and went inside,

The walls within, tall and imposing with thick wood lined with shelves full of books and trinkets. A large arched window that looked out to the city beyond, a few red leather chairs and of course Bruce's large desk. Where Bruce sat in his chair, his elbows on the desk, and his chin rested on his hands.

Luka walked onto the rug and met Bruce's eyes, silently.

"How is school?" Bruce asked,

Luka didn't reply,

"Your studies?"

Luka didn't reply,

"Your mother?"

Luka did not answer again,

Bruce sighed and met Luka's eyes, "Have I somehow offended you, Luka?" He asked his tone sharp,

"No," Luka answered, "I simply find it pointless to answer,"

"Why?"

"You're the greatest detective in the world," Luka sighed, "You know where I go, what I do, who I see, the same for my school and my mother... I can't hide anything from you."

"Doesn't mean I do not wish to hear it from your own lips,"

"School is fine. Work is fine. Mom is fine." Luka answered dismissively,

"Good." Bruce nodded, "Your mother she-"

"Yes." Luka snapped, "The new boy is... Steven something,"

"Young?" Bruce chuckled,

"Twenty-five,"

"Have you given any more thought to your plans after you graduate?" Bruce quickly changed the subject,

"No," Luka lied,

"I have made my offer more than once,"

"I know, you have done enough for me,"

"And still I will do more... if you only would accept my help,"

"You have helped me, more than I have deserved and more than I can ever repay Mr Wayne." Luka explained, "I... I would not ask for anything more."

"Very well." Bruce nodded, "But the offer stands,"

"Thank you,"

"We will continue your training, but allow time to focus on your studies. Training can wait. I'd rather get you through the classes first." Bruce explained, "We'll go from there."

"Yes sir." Luka nodded, he turned to leave the study but before he took his third step,

"Luka," Bruce spoke up,

"Yes?" Luka didn't turn,

"Did you think you'd get away with it?"

Luka's blood ran cold and a shiver ran up his spine, "I- I don't know what you're talking about sir." But his voice gave him away,

"Luka, I'm the greatest detective in the world." Bruce threw Luka's own words back to him, "You can't hide anything from me."

"I suppose not." Luka sighed,

"Look at me, Luka."

Luka slowly turned but found himself too guilty to meet Bruce in the eye,

"Why?" Bruce simply asked,

Luka shrugged like a caught child,

"Why Luka?" Bruce's voice raised,

"It looked cool." Luka lied as his eyes trailed the corners of the rug,

"Don't lie to me,"

Luka bit his tongue a moment, he knew he was caught, he knew there was no way out of this. So there was no reason to hold back. "I feel safe with it," he muttered,

"What?"

"I feel safer with it." Luka said, "I felt strong, safe, secure when I carried it with me. More in control."

"True strength-"

"True strength, doesn't need a weapon I know." Luka snapped back, "But after nine years of telling me about the attackers, murderers and sick lunatics that walk Gotham's streets at night. Are you surprised I feel the need to walk around armed?"

Bruce's face relaxed slightly, as he pondered Luka's words. "If you don't feel safe in the house-"

"The house is fine. The school is fine... It just makes me feel better," Luka answered, "I've never used it. Doubt I ever will. But I have it, just in case."

"I see." Bruce nodded, "Alright,"

Luka nodded and turned to leave once more, he pushed open the heavy wooden door but was once again stopped.

"Luka. The Knife," Bruce ordered,

Luka let out a long sigh before he turned. He pulled his jacket from his duffle bag and ripped the knife and its holster from his inside pocket.

Bruce merely tapped his desk with his index and middle finger,

So Luka begrudgingly brought it over and set the knife down beside his fingers, but as he was about to pull his hand back Bruce grabbed his wrist.

"If you want something, you ask for it." Bruce told him, "You don't steal it."

Luka nodded,

"Yes?"

"Yes, Mr Wayne."

Bruce nodded and glanced to the door as he released Luka's hand,

Luka turned and stormed out without a word, his face screwed up with rage. He marched down the stairs and left the manor. He refused the usual ride home and tossed his jacket on and hood up, to start on the walk home in the rain. 

Chapter Six - Ten

[duckysprouts]

if you were at your worst, if you’re a villain or a screwup or whatever, there is a goth man dressed as a giant bat who keeps coming after you, bothering you. he sabotages your journey of self destruction over and over. ur ready to give up but he won’t let you. you think, today he won’t come. today he will give up on me too. he never does.

[incorrectbatfam]

[batfam-belfry]

LET HIM DRIVEEEEEE

[somnoir]

The family of rogues

The Fentons/Masters siblings move to Gotham for various reasons. Jazz gets herself an internship in Arkham and spends most of her time trying to finish med school. Danny gets himself a scholarship and attends Gotham U for his aerospace engineering. Elle doesn't want to be away from her siblings and gets herself enrolled into Gotham Academy after pestering Vlad. Dan, who had no trust in the world to keep his siblings safe, follows after them as expected.

None of them realized that they were rogue material. The entirety of Gotham knew to stay the fuck away from the Fentons.

The Bats find out very quickly why these newcomers were considered the future rogues.

Their youngest was in Damian's year, a seemingly normal girl if not for her acrobatics and agility that rivaled a Robins. Danielle Masters—Elle—was also part of the fencing club. But that didn't make her rogue material. No. She had her own penchant for violence and was known for her intelligence, actively threatening anyone who tried to hijak the academy while she was present. The last story Damian told them was filled with his admiration and a hint of swooning when he mentioned that she had taken a rapier and almost cut a man for trying to bomb the school.

Not so bad, right? Just... A really shabby teenage girl. Damian was the same! So...

Next came the second son of the family. Danny Fenton was an obvious genius. He was capable of making the most dangerous things from mere scraps. Tim had been there to witness the boy make a fully functioning flame thrower from a lighter and what seemed to be a toaster. Said flamethrower was then used to melt away Mr. Freeze's ice and the man had been very concerned when a college student with eye bags darker than Barman's was pointing a DIY flamethrower at his head. Ever since then, Tim has been hellbent on figuring out how the fuck Fenton did that. Unfortunately for him, Danny Fenton was prone to vanishing just like the rest of his siblings. In addition to that sort of intelligence and skill, the young man was adept at combat like his sister. The group of 4 were clearly trained. Very well trained if the witnesses were honest.

Okay, very concerning. Clearly someone who knew how to make weapons on the fly and was not scared of barbequing people if he was threatened.

Then we get to Dante Masters, the first son and second oldest of the bunch. He'd arrived a little after his siblings and had started of as a mechanic, tinkering with everything and anything. Jason had been to said shop to have his bike fixed and once Dante Masters got his hands on it, the bike was suddenly better and faster. Apparently there were some slight modifications here and there to upgrade the bike. But then he'd quite—Jason was devastated—and proceeded to become a guard in Arkham. No one managed to escape Arkham when it was Dante's shift. Red Hood had gone to Arkham himself to check what was wrong. All the in mates were scared of the man who'd suddenly appear at the end of the hallway as the lights flickered whenever they tried to escape. The best thing the Scarecrow did when he saw that slenderman bullshit was walk back to his cell and wait for Dante to lock it.

Concerning, horrendously concerning. This was a confirmed future rogue that has the mechanical ability of his brother, a body bigger than Jason's, and Batman's melt into the shadows shit.

But the eldest? Jasmine Fenton looked utterly harmless, positive and sweet compared to the menaces that were her younger siblings. She sought to change Arkham from the inside and even the inmates were fond of this mothering redhead. Dick had come to visit Harley once when she was caught doing crime and he'd seen her get assigned to the Joker. Everyone was scared shitless that he'd make another Harley, another good woman turned rogue by a madman. But what came out of that session was the Joker, suddenly all quiet and a face stuck in a quiet smile. It was like Jasmine had given him a lobotomy. He'd go manic and laugh all day, everyday, but once Jazz entered his cell with her clipboard and pen, the laughing immediately died and Joker was left looking utterly haunted after every session.

Not a rogue made by the Joker but a future rogue that seemed to have tamed? Traumatized? They weren't sure but something happened and the Joker was both scared and respectful when it came to Jazz Fenton.

Everyone in Gotham knew to not fuck with the nice ones.

Everyone in Gotham knew to stay the fuck away from the Fentons.

(At the end of every week, Jazz continues to respect confidentiality clauses and doesn't tell her siblings a thing. The truth of the matter? Jazz was as liminal as she was and on the verge of becoming a halfa. Her younger siblings may consist of the ghost king and halfas about to become ancients, but the ghosts listened to her words.

For every session that she has with the Joker, she invites as many ghosts as she can to join in on the session. When the Joker grows mad, she interrupts with information on his past that no one should know.

The Joker's laughter went quiet the moment his new psychologist closed the door behind her and smiled, "Good afternoon, Jack. My name is Jasmine."

No one knew the Joker's real name, not even Batman.

No one alive knew his real name. He'd killed all of them.

Good thing for Jazz that she had so many ghosts floating behind her, whispering his name and secrets into her ear.)

Masterpost

[dailydccomics]

Superman and Batman by Juni Ba

[dollishmehrayan]

# “MRS. WAYNE I THINK THIS IS FOR YOU!” ── .✦ ( bruce wayne wife headcannons )

a/n: this was request by a anon (here) so yeah but anyways I Lowkey used to be OBSESSED with like batmom stories but like I genuinely then lost all care for liking anything bruce wayne but this might just like help me (jason todd girly converts into a batmom Stan😭) tags: (bruce wayne x fem!reader)

CHAOTIC HEADCANNONS ── .✦

“No, Bruce. That’s Not a Normal Thing to Do.”

You frequently have to remind him that billionaire habits don’t translate to normal life.

Bruce: “I thought I’d buy out the café you like so you wouldn’t have to wait in line.”

You: “Bruce, we’re just getting lattes. Calm down.”

The expensive car Dilemma: He’s tried picking you up in one of his expensive cars once, and you’ve never let him live it down.

“Bruce, we’re not running a car dealership we’re going to Target.”

Tech Mishaps: Bruce likes to show off his gadgets, but they always malfunction around you. Once, the Batcomputer locked him out because you accidentally spilled coffee near it. You took a picture of his shocked face and made it your phone wallpaper for weeks.

The Disastrous Cooking Attempts: Bruce insists he can cook. The truth? Alfred banned him from the kitchen after he tried to “surprise” you with pancakes and set the stovetop on fire.

“I’m Batman, but I can’t handle pancake batter.”

OVERPROTECTIVE HUSBAND™ ── .✦

He’ll interrogate any new friends you bring around like they’re suspects in a heist.

Bruce, shaking someone’s hand firmly: “And what do you do for a living?”

You, glaring: “Bruce, they’re not applying to join the Justice League.”

GOSSIP FINAL BOSS ── .✦

He pretends not to care about gossip, but he secretly listens to you rant about gala drama. Sometimes, he’ll even chime in with hilariously accurate observations.

You: “That woman was glaring at me all night.”

Bruce: “Because she kept seeing her husband looking at you’re instagram posts. Trust me, Alfred told me.”

ROMANTIC HCS ── .✦

Constant Gentleman Mode: Bruce is always opening doors for you, carrying your bags, or pulling out your chair. You tease him about being old-fashioned, but it’s clear he loves taking care of you.

Private Dance Lessons in the Manor: When you’re stressed, Bruce will put on some music in the empty ballroom and sweep you into an impromptu dance. He’s a surprisingly good dancer, but the way he looks at you mid-spin? That’s what makes your heart race.

Personal Love Notes: Bruce doesn’t text much, but he leaves little handwritten notes around the house.

“Don’t forget, you’re the best part of my day.”

“Coffee’s ready downstairs. So is your husband, who can’t stop thinking about you.”

The ‘I’m Watching You’ Look: At galas, Bruce can’t stop staring at you. When you catch him, he gives that little smirk that says, Yeah, you caught me, but I’m not sorry.

Soft Batman Moments: Even in the Batcave, he has moments where he’s just your Bruce. When he sees you waiting up for him late at night, he’ll silently take off his cowl, walk over, and hold you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

Protective, but Not Controlling: He worries, of course, but he respects your independence. If you’re ever in trouble, though, the Bat is out faster than you can blink. “No one touches my wife.”

Gift Giving Expert: He puts serious thought into gifts. One time, he recreated your childhood bedroom in the manor when you were feeling homesick. “I just wanted you to feel at home,” he said, completely nonchalant.

The Morning Ritual: He wakes up early to watch you sleep for a few minutes (in the least creepy way possible) because it’s his quiet reminder of how lucky he is. When you stir awake, he presses a kiss to your forehead and whispers, “Good morning, love.”

Subtle Public Affection: In public, his affection is subtle—hand on the small of your back, thumb grazing your hand, or an almost imperceptible wink across the room. But behind closed doors? He’s all cuddles and kisses.

Always Puts You First: Whether it’s cutting a patrol short to spend time with you or risking everything to keep you safe, Bruce’s priority will always be you. “The city can wait. You can’t.”

MIX OF CHAOS AND ROMANCE ── .✦

When Bruce tries to be romantic but Alfred bringing him back to reality: Bruce, holding your hand: “You’re the light in my dark world.”

Alfred, walking in: “Sir, you said that to the last woman, too. Shall I fetch your script?”

You once jokingly wore a bat-symbol T-shirt to tease him. Bruce didn’t say anything, but later that week, he wore a matching shirt that said, “I <3 My Wife.”

[haveihitanerve]

The comments were usual. Frequent even. Bruce bore them all with a smile, either acting like a bored teenager forced to attend the events he had planned, or blushing, sculpting the Brucie persona before he had even reached his twenties. 

“Oh Brucie!!!” They would twitter at him, women and men alike, pawing at his arms, his shoulders, chest, some even boldly reaching for his ass, snaking an arm around him, pulling him closer. “You look delicious baby.” They’d murmur, pur, coo over him. 

Alfred would get rightfully angry over the comments, when Bruce told him, but after the anger led to nothing, Bruce stopped coming home with the stories. He just went to bed, showering off all the handprints and touches. 

And then Dick came along.

“Bruuuuuuuuuce!” The nine year old whined, hissing the ending syllable like a snake. “I wanna gooooo!!!” Bruce chuckled lightly, fixing his cuffs in the mirror. 

“I highly doubt it chum.” He murmured, glancing over at his ward, seated on the foot of his bed. Dick pouted, the full package; lip out and arms crossed, and Bruce laughed, walking over to grab his tie and ruffle the boys hair. 

“Its a boring Gala, bud. Not too exciting.” Dick huffed, watching as Bruce expertly wound the tie around his neck, swinging the sides over and through. 

“Its a pARty!” He pointed out. “And I wanna go.” Bruce hummed to show he was listening, buttoning up the bottom two buttons of his suit, before letting his hands drop to his side. 

He sighed. “Do you want to wear a suit?” Dick’s eyes sparked up with excitement before he wrinkled his nose. 

“Do I hafta?” He complained. Bruce laughed, turning to face him. 

“Yes. Its a formal event. Suit, or you’re not coming.” The threat of a suit made the words take a moment to sink in, but once they did Dick rocketeded across the room, flying into Bruce’s arms. 

“For real???” He squealed, all excitement and little kid energy. “Hell yeah!” He bolted out the door to his own room before Bruce could so much as open his mouth to chide “language.” 

The car ride over was a new level of annoyance Bruce didn't know existed, as Dick bounced around in his seat, eagerly looking out the window for the first glimpse of his first “real adult party”. Still, he couldn't help but smile at Dick's unbridled joy.  

Hank, Bruce’s chauffeur, bore all of it with a smile, regaling Dick with stories of picking up Bruce when he was a teenager, and all the college hell, while Dick cackled and Bruce rolled his eyes. But, then again, Hank had his own three kids at home, and was marginally more used to the watts of energy than Bruce was. 

“Here ya are Mr. Wayne.” Hank finally cut off all of Dick’s peppering questions about Bruce’s college stories, a relief, as Hank was really getting into the bad stuff, or in Dicks mind, the good stuff, and Bruce hopped out, opening the door for his son. “Thank you!” Dick twittered as he leapt out, waving. 

Hank chuckled, dipping his hat. “Of course Mr. Wayne, hope you have a fun night.” Dick grinned back, and it surprised Bruce that he was so okay with hank calling him “Wayne.” But, then again, his boy and the driver seemed to have an easier relationship. Bruce certainly wasn't going to call him out. 

It did something to him, flooded his body with something heavy and warm, to hear Dick be called “Wayne”. Maybe a primal thing, an old animal instinct, the need to claim and own and have Dick. Dick was his son, maybe not by blood, but by… everything and anything Dick allowed him to have. 

“B!” Dick chirped, already a few feet up the steps, a frown on his face as he looked back. Bruce realized he’d been lost in thought at the side of the road. 

“Coming chum.” He agreed quickly, hurrying to his wards side before the entered. 

“Woah.” Dick breathed, the second they breached the door, and Bruce silently agreed. Gala’s weren’t fun for a plethora of reasons, but they were always beautiful. 

Almost immediately though, camera’s swarmed him, not only flashes of light but also of sickeningly white teeth, too wide mouths, pale skin pawing for his attention. 

“Brucie, darling!!!” One man twittered, and they successfully separated them, dragging Bruce over to one gaggle of rich twats while a few others circled Dick. Dick seemed to be taking it remarkably well, nodding politely and smiling, shaking hands, but his eyes darted to Bruce every few seconds, questions in his eyes. 

“Excuse me-” Bruce brushed past his virus of people and forced his way beside Dick, kneeling so he was at eye level.

“Everything alright?” he murmured quietly, tucking Dick into his space, warding off others. He almost wanted to say “i told you so” but figured it’d only do more harm than good. Pointing it out when Dick was clearly overwhelmed would not be helpful, or nice in any capacity. 

Dick nodded, shoulders imperceptibly dropping in relief as he allowed himself to be caged by Bruce’s body. “Y-yeah. Fine. Better now.” Bruce let the unspoken words hang between them, “-that you’re here”, and nodded instead, standing. 

“Stay close.” he flicked his fingers and Dick obediently stepped closer, pushing into Bruce’s space with hardly a thought.

And, Bruce realized quietly, he didn't mind either. Having people in his space… touch had never been his thing, after his parents death. Especially not when that touch came from unsympathetic elites after his parents money. But with Dick… it was, easier. Nice. 

The rest of the night went by a little better, and Dick even stepped away a few feet, always close by, but straying enough that he wasn't hiding behind Bruce’s legs. In his shadow. It was then that it happened. 

“Oh aren’t you just beautiful.” The words came from Mrs. Braught, a well known widow with enough wealth to compete with the Drakes, if not Waynes. She was… known for her affinity to younger men, boys, really, and Bruce had only managed to not make the cut because he had known, as a boy, and avoided her, and wasn’t as “appealing” to her, due to his depression. 

Dick stiffened slightly at the words, but still offered her a smile, polite, as always. The reaction made Bruce relax marginally. He was okay, he was handling it, just like Bruce had. 

But… but Dick’s smile was strained, his shoulders inching near his ears, and there was a definite tilt to him, a lean away from Braught that was easy to miss. But not to Bruce. 

Before he knew what he was doing, Bruce was at his wards side- no, in front of him, shoving Dick behind his legs. Dick stumbled, lightly, at the sudden push, but quickly straightened, grabbing the back of Bruce’s coat. The trembling Bruce could feel through the fabric was enough to make him see red. 

The Brucie persona was gone, slipping off without a singe thought, fast enough that Bruce wondered for a fraction of a second if it had even been on when he had entered the Gala, and Bruce realized it wasn't just Dick’s hand trembling, but Bruce’s whole body. 

His fists curled, hard enough that his knuckles turned white, jaw clenched to the point where his teeth squeaked, entire body quivering with rage. 

Mrs. Braught glanced up, surprised, almost caught off guard even, as she realized Brucie Wayne wasn't there for a pleasant hello, but Bruce was there, a man- no, a father, furious at what was being said about his son. 

Bruce could hear, faintly, as though through water, people beginning to whisper, eyes wide as the elites gathered around, no one bold enough to step in, and no one truly believing Brucie would do anything. 

Bruce didn't care. Dick was his, and he would not allow the traumas of the past to repeat, though he had failed to stop him from being orphaned. No more. He vowed, hands fisting at his sides. He had failed Dick in the one, true way that mattered, keeping his family, but he would not fail him any other way. Not in the ways Bruce was failed. 

His hand began to move back on its own accord, when a tiny, stubborn hand caught it, grabbed his wrist. Bruce looked down in surprise to find Dick staring up him solemnly, shaking his head.

Before Bruce could say something, another woman, another widow Bruce recognized as Mrs. Kershaw, stepped forward, fire bright in her weathered eyes. 

“You go on and git out of here Gertrude, before I tar your hide.” She hissed, and Bruce recalled how her own daughter had been raped and murdered when she had been barely thirteen. Gertrude knew it too, and backed away, scurrying for the exit. Mrs. Kershaw made sure she left, eyes kind when she glanced at Bruce, a subtle nod of solidarity her only acknowledgement. 

Dick tugged on his hand, but Bruce ignored him, sending a viscous glare at anyone who dared step too close. 

“Dad.” Dicks voice was soft, so soft, but proud too, grateful. That finally dragged Bruce from his never ending anger, and he looked down. Down at those wide blue eyes, that head of messy black curls.

“Come on Dad.” Dick whispered quietly, eyes darting around nervously at all the people, the cameras, but always going back to Bruce. Meeting his eyes. 

Bruce bent down and scooped his son into his arms, uncaring of who saw, who cared. He blocked his son off from the world, heading for the exit, one of the waitstaff, Aisha, nodding at him to inform him Hank had been called. 

“Thanks Dad.” Dick murmured, face buried against Bruce’s neck, and Bruce’s arms tightened around him, heading out into the streets of Gotham with his son cradled to his chest. 

“I’ll always protect you chum.” He swore, and something in his heart lightened at the Justice he was doing for his son, but also for his younger self. “I will always protect you.” 

thanks to @frownyalfred and @astorianyxkings for the idea!

[skyburger]

do they celebrate pride month on teo

[indy829]

[martiniluvr]

the hand placement…the size difference….somebody sedate me

[the-fiction-witch]

Let The World The Burn Chapter Six - Ten

Chapters One - Five

Chapter Six - Gotham Prep

The relentless rain pounded against the expansive property. Majestic tall red gates, their paint slightly chipped from years of exposure to the elements, framed the numerous fields, sports setups, and neatly arranged concrete yards that sprawled across the landscape. At the heart of the property stood a grand brown building, its walls adorned with an array of windows that reflected the gloomy overcast sky. A prominent clock tower loomed above, its hands at twenty-to-nine.

Throngs of young students surged through the gates, their laughter and chatter rose above the cacophony of raindrops. The air was thick with the energy of anticipation and camaraderie, as voices mingled and made a rich tapestry of shuffling footsteps and spirited conversations.

Luka stood slightly down the street, so as to not be in the way of those who headed in. His uniform consisted of black shined shoes with red laces, red trousers, a crisp white shirt, a black tie with raised red stripes and a black blazer with the 'Gotham Prep' logo embroidered to the breast pocket. He had his leather messenger bag across his shoulder and stuck his black earphones under his shirt and around the back of his ear, his phone in his hand as he texted with Rose.

He and Rose had texted back and forth since they had met. They'd barely even spent a moment separated from their phones.

Luka had promised Rose that he'd help her out and stay by her side the first week. So he waited for her to arrive, his eyes flicked between his phone and the road.

Soon enough a small blue car pulled up and dropped Rose off,

Rose hurried onto the pavement, she wore her own black shoes with red laces, black tights and red knee-high socks, a black skirt with a single red stripe around the hem, a crisp white shirt, a black tie with raised red stripes and a black blazer with the 'Gotham Prep' logo embroidered to the breast pocket. She wore the same red breton hat she had last time Luka saw her, and a little red backpack on her back.

The moment she came into view, Luka began to smile.

"Hi," she waved,

"Hey," Luka greeted,

Rose hurried over but stopped just short of Luka's personal space.

"So? Are you ready for your first day?"

"I think so," she nodded,

"Alright, come on." he tipped his head towards the gates, so the two began to walk side by side and joined the crowd. "Oh! Where's your phone?"

"My pocket,"

"I'd put it in your backpack, at least till you're used to the uniform." he suggested, "It's purposely shallow pockets so you can't hide anything."

"Sneaky,"

"It is, and if they spot your phone they'll take it." He nodded, "Three times they'll keep it overnight."

"Understood," She nodded, pulled her backpack off and quickly hid her phone inside, "Why do we still have to wear this uniform anyway?"

"Headmaster has this thing about conformity, I swear the guy thinks he's running a military camp or a cult." Luka joked,

Rose laughed,

"Everyone has to wear it, pre-school littles all the way up to us seniors, and even post-grads."

"Oh..."

"Yeah, even the teachers kinda have a uniform."

"How strange,"

"Wasn't like this at your old place?"

"No, we all wore our own clothes. All year groups did."

"Lucky," he smiled, "You- You uhh, do look nice though,"

"Aww, thank you." She blushed,

They made their way up the steps and inside the main school building,

"Anything else I need to know?" she asked,

"Keep your head down, and you'll be fine." He told her, "Gotham Prep isn't too bad, you'll just find everyone is kinda a pric-"

"Mr Mitchell." The booming and yet still vile voice of Professor Cuvier broke through Luka's words.

Professor Cuvier emerged from the shadows of the adjoining corridor, the tall man loomed over Luka and Rose in his black suit and red tie.

"Sir." Luka sighed,

"No, no, do continue Mr Mitchell. Grace us with your opinions of our school."

Luka did not answer, he knew he was in enough trouble already,

"That's what I thought," he nodded, "Headphones, and whatever it is they are attached to." He opened his hand expectantly,

Luka rolled his eyes, handed over his music player and pulled the headphones out from his shirt before he handed them over too.

"Thank you." Professor Cuvier wickedly smiled, "And you, Miss?"

"Rose Asher, Sir." Rose nodded,

"Ahh yes, our newbie." He sighed, "Hats are against our dress code, remove it at once."

"Oh- Sorry, sir." Rose slowly pulled her hat from her head and held it sheepishly in her hands, Her long black curls fell around her shoulders,

Luka couldn't hold back a small smile, he'd only ever seen her with her hat. And he immediately rather liked her hair down.

"Do you have a hair tie, Miss Asher?" He glared,

Rose nodded, she pulled a red ribbon from her back and pulled her hair up into a ponytail,

"Ensure this doesn't happen again,"

"Yes sir,"

"Good, come with me to the office. We'll set you up with your supplies and arrange a fellow student for you to shadow."

"Oh- Actually," Rose said, "L- Mr Mitchell already offered to assist me this first week."

"Did he?" He glared at Luka,

"I did sir," Luka nodded,

"Humm-" Professor Cuvier scoffed, "I would recommend selecting a more... academically focused student to shadow Miss Asher. Good to begin as you mean to go on."

Luka bit his bottom lip and glared daggers into Professor Cuvier's eyes.

"With all due respect Professor Cuvier, I would prefer to shadow someone I trust. And that would be Mr Mitchell." Rose smiled,

"Very well." He snapped, "Come." He turned on his heels and began to walk to the office,

"Thanks," Luka whispered as they followed,

"You're welcome," she smiled, as she fixed a strand of her hair behind her ear. 

Chapter Seven - Roast Quail

Luka pushed open the front door with a slight shove, the creak of the hinges echoed in the stillness of the late afternoon. He kicked the door closed behind him with a soft thud. After he tossed his messenger bag onto the staircase, the fabric hit the steps with a gentle plop, he made his way into the busy kitchen.

As he leaned against the doorframe, the warm, savoury scents enveloped him. His mother, Julliet, was the centre of the action. Stood at the kitchen island, her hair was meticulously styled, cascaded in soft waves, and her make-up was fresh and vibrant. She wore her tall heels and her body was elegantly encased in a blue sparkly dress that shimmered subtly under the kitchen lights. A yellow apron, slightly askew from her hurried movements, was tied around her waist.

In front of her, a large, stainless steel bowl rested precariously on the countertop. Julliet gripped a wooden spoon, her brow furrowed in concentration as she attempted to mash the steaming potatoes within.

Luka watched for a moment, a smile crept onto his face at the sight of his mother. "Hey..."

"Ahh! Hello, Luka darling!" she greeted,

"What uhh... what's going on here?" Luka raised an eyebrow,

"I'm making dinner, Roast quail and trimmings."

"... Mom, I haven't seen you cook since I was twelve." Luka narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"Yes, well..." she trailed off, "It's about time I did."

"Don't you have a date with Steven tonight?"

"No, I just want to spend time at home with my darling boy,"

"Okay..."

"So, how about you go put on your nice clothes and set the table for dinner."

"I just got back from classes, why do I need to be in my nice clothes to have dinner?" Luka asked as his suspicion grew,

"It's fun to dress up, and we're using the dining room today might as well make the most of it." she smiled,

"The dining room?" He questioned,

"Yes, we're having a nice big dinner, wearing our best, and using the dining room. Won't it be lovely Darling?"

Suddenly it all clicked in his mind, "Mom?"

"Yes, Luka?"

"Who's coming to dinner?" He glared at her to ensure she couldn't avoid his question,

"Why would anyone be coming to dinner?" She laughed unconvincingly, unable to meet his eyes,

"Who is it?" He pushed the matter,

"Alright." She gave in, "Steven is coming to dinner."

"Lovely, Have fun," he told her before he headed for the door,

"No, no." She stopped him, "All of us."

"Seriously, I'll eat later. Or go out-"

"Luka." She stopped, "Steven is a part of my life now, and he wants to meet you. I want my two favourite boys to spend dinner with me." She smiled as she took his hands,

Luka rolled his eyes, "Fine." he accepted begrudgingly,

"Thank you," she smiled, "Nice clothes, Please."

"Alright," he nodded,

Luka grabbed his bag and ascended the staircase to his bedroom, the familiar creak of the floorboards beneath his feet echoed softly in the quiet house. Once inside, he tossed his backpack onto the bed, where it landed with a soft thud against the neatly made covers. He swiftly changed into a crisp grey shirt and his dark jeans. After a glance in the mirror, he gave himself a generous spray of deodorant, followed by a few spritzes of his cheaper cologne.

He made his way back down the stairs, to the dining room. As he entered, he found his mother, Julliet, meticulously positioned the dining table settings. The table was adorned beautifully, with elegant settings for each place, delicate flowers in a vase at the centre, and an array of dishes artfully displayed, all ready for the evening's meal.

"Am I acceptable?" He asked,

"Of course, you are my darling." she cooed, as she rested her hands on his shoulders, "You look very handsome." she kissed his cheek,

"Mom," he complained before he hastily wiped it away.

The doorbell then rang and Julliet rushed to the door, Luka sighed.

Before long, she reappeared, her arm elegantly linked with that of a tall and slender gentleman. He had thinning blonde hair that caught the light in a soft sheen. Dressed in a crisp light yellow shirt that contrasted with his black trousers. In his other hand, he held a bottle of wine,

"Luka Darling, This is my boyfriend." Julliet introduced,

"Well hiya sport," He greeted, "Steven Franklin, Pleasure to meet you." he offered his hand,

"Hi." Luka forced a pleasant smile and shook the man's hand a little firmer than he first intended,

"Whoa- quite the grip there!" Steven Laughed,

"Yeah, sorry." he shrugged,

"Jul- Your mother has told me so much about you."

"Yeah, great..."

"Well, let's open up our wine." Julliet smiled,

The three took their seats at the table and Julliet built them each a plate full of food,

"Thank you beautiful," Steven smiled blowing her a kiss as he took his plate,

Luka thought back the urge to roll his eyes, as he took his own plate. "Thanks, Mom."

The meal was silent but the clacks of cutlery against plates, and the gentle coo's between Steven and Julliet. Luka very much felt like a third wheel, and began to speed up his food so he could escape to his room and start texting Rose.

"So, Luka?" Steven broke the silence,

"Yeah?" He glanced up,

"What did you get up to today?"

"...class."

"Oh, did you enjoy it?"

"Ughh, it was class." he shrugged, "So no."

"No? I loved my classes, I couldn't help but leap out of bed to get there on time." Steven smiled, "I went to Gotham High you know,"

"Cool."

"Your mother tells me you're at Gotham Prep?"

"Yeah."

"Very impressive, you need to be pretty smart to keep to the curve there." He laughed, "You must be a little genius,"

"Nope."

"Ohh now don't be modest,"

"No, really I've been the lowest-grading kid for the last three years."

"Oh?" he nodded, "Well I uhh I bet you must be super involved them, couldn't afford to lose student council or top athlete right?"

"Don't do any extra" Luka replied,

"Oh..." he hummed a tad confused,

"If you're wondering how I haven't been kicked out yet," Luka sighed, "I'm on the Scholar program,"

"Ahh." He nodded in understanding, "How uhh-" he began,

But Luka immediately knew the question, "We don't pay for it."

Steven hummed and nodded,

"His godfather handles it." Julliet smiled as she sipped her wine,

"Fascinating."

"So." She changed the subject, "We have something we wanted to discuss with you."

"Right?" Luka raised an eyebrow,

"How would you feel about me hanging out here more often?" Steven suggested,

"...sure," Luka shrugged, a little confused. As his mother's boyfriends had never asked about being here before,

"How about if he hung out with us every day?" she asked,

"Like, Move in with us?"

"If that's okay with you?" Steven smiled,

Luka sat silently for a moment, he didn't really want him to move in with them, but he also saw how much his mother wanted this and he knew he'd be moving out as soon as he graduated anyway.

"Sure, I don't see why not."

"Thank you my darling," Julliet smiled,

"Thank you, I promise we'll stay out of your way." Steven smiled,

"Yeah." Luka nodded as he finished up with his food, "May I be excused?"

"Alright," she nodded,

"Thanks."

"Course I'm sure you have things to do," Steven laughed, "Lovely to meet you Luka, hopefully, we can spend some time together once I get moved in."

"Yeah, sure." Luka forced out as he got out of his chair and quickly headed to his room, 

Chapter Eight - Over Crowded

Luka stepped out of his bathroom, feeling the cool air brush against his skin as beads of water clung to his body. He had a towel securely wrapped around his waist, while a second towel draped around his neck captured the steady trickle of water sliding down his thick curls. The damp locks fell slightly over his forehead, giving him a tousled look. He glanced around his room, the evening streetlights filtering through the curtains, his room lit by only a small orange lamp on his desk. Spotting his phone lying haphazardly on his unmade bed, he reached out and picked it up, the screen lighting up in his hand. As he quickly clicked his messages, his heart raced a little at the thought of chatting with Rose, his fingers hovering over her name.

Luka - Hey, just got out of the shower 🚿. Are you ready to call now? 📞

Before he tossed his damp towel into the overflowing hamper in the corner of his room. Setting his phone down on his cluttered desk, he carefully propped it up with a stack of books, their spines faded from years of use. The familiar buzz of notifications began to vibrate against the surface, creating a rhythmic disturbance in the quiet of the room.

He opened the drawer of his wardrobe, rummaging through its chaotic contents until his fingers brushed against a pair of vibrant red boxers. He pulled them out, and swiftly slipped them on, just as the vibrating phone continued to demand his attention. He glanced over and smiled, to see Rose's call. Her little picture filled his screen so he quickly clicked to accept it.

A soft glow emanated from the screen as she appeared, her figure dressed in thigh-high white socks that hugged her legs, paired with a pair of small cotton shorts and her loose-fitting hoodie. Her hair was in a bun. She sat comfortably in her desk chair, which creaked softly under her slight weight,

Behind her, the scene was cosy and inviting. Her bed was meticulously made, showcasing crisp white sheets tucked neatly beneath a fluffy comforter. Above the headboard, a string of slightly blue fairy lights twinkled gently. A print of a majestic phoenix adorned the wall,

"Hey!" He greeted rubbing his towel over his wet hair,

"Oh! Uhh hi, Luka?" Rose gasped her eyes firmly on Luka's half-naked body being presented through her phone,

Luka was confused by her tone so glanced at his phone and saw Rose's face, in that exact moment he realized if he could see her. Then... she can see him. So...he was basically giving her a free thirst trap, As he stood in only his boxers fresh out of the shower. Without hesitation, he jumped out of the phone camera's view and immediately began apologizing, "Oh my god- Rose I am so so sorry- I didn't mean to- I didn't-"

"It's okay," she cooed, "It's my fault, I assumed we were video calling. I should have asked first. I can swap it?"

"No, no it uhh it's okay, I wanna video call with you." he blushed as he quickly grabbed a shirt and some sweatpants, he tossed them on and came back into the camera's view, "Hi, again."

"Hi." she waved,

"Sorry about that, I uhh I hope it's okay." He said as he sat on his desk chair,

"It's fine, I'm not complaining." she shrugged,

They both laughed a little,

"So? What's up with you today?"

"Nothing much, just chores. Mom's still at work."

"Ahh, you gonna be okay? Home alone?"

"She'll be home in a bit, she never works nights. Says she doesn't trust this place."

"Can't say I blame her."

"What about you?"

"Fine, fine, normal stuff." He shrugged, not really wanting to tell her he'd been running around Wayne Manor all day, "Tired."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, not getting much sleep." he rubbed his eyes,

"Oh, your mom?"

"Yeah." he sighed, "I liked it better when she was out every night at least then it was quiet, now I just have to lay with a pillow over my head listening to '-eak -eak -eak -eak -eak'"

Rose laughed,

"Yeah, I swear I have learned so much about my mother since he moved in. None of which I EVER wanted to know,"

"Aww you poor thing,"

"Thanks, I'll be fine. I'm sure they'll cut it out soon."

"You can only hope."

"I don't know, house seems so... crowded now. Like Overcrowded." He sighed, "Feel like a third wheel around this place,"

"I'm sorry,"

"It's not your fault Rose."

"I know, but still I wish I could help."

"You are a help, Rose," he told her, "You're texts, calls, getting to hang out and vent with you. It's nice, "

"Well, I'm glad I can be of help, even just a little bit."

"You help me more than you know, Rosie." he smiled,

"Awwww!" she blushed, "You're too sweet to me,"

"I try my best," He joked,

The two settled into their familiar rhythm as they chatted for a solid couple of hours, They delved into discussions about their classes, sharing frustrations over difficult assignments and the pressures of upcoming exams. Each story was laced with laughter and exasperation often interrupting each other with amusing anecdotes that filled the air with their infectious laughter. In typical fashion, they also found time to complain and rant about everything and nothing, the usual banter that characterized their calls. From the latest ridiculous trends on social media to shared grievances about the weather, they let their thoughts flow freely, relishing the opportunity to voice their opinions without judgment with one another.

"We should call off then, don't want to keep you up too long," Rose smiled,

"It's alright, I don't mind." Luka answered, "Unless you wanna head to bed,"

She nodded and yawned, "I think so,"

"Okay, I'll see you on Monday at school anyway right?"

"Course, and I know we'll text tomorrow."

"I'm sure we will."

"Oh, Luka?"

"Yeah?"

"I think your shirt's inside out,"

"Is it?" he glanced down at himself, "Damn it, must have done it in my rush." he shrugged as he gripped the hem of his shirt and pulled it off, "Wait... now it's inside out?" He asked as he looked over his shirt, he was confused given it was inside out and now he pulled it off and still inside out, so it... it must have been the right way the first time - "Rose?"

Rose blushed and giggled slightly,

"My shirt was fine wasn't it?" he smirked,

"It was," she admitted,

"Rose!"

"I was just curious to see again."

"Hey!" He playfully joked,

"Sorry," she blushed

"It's alright, I'm not complaining." He shrugged,

"I just wanted to have another look before we call off."

"Yeah?" he blushed, "You just wanted to see?" he smirked as he tossed his shirt from his hands and leant back against his chair,

"You're very cute," she blushed,

"Well you're very cute too," He smiled, "Maybe I should call you shirtless every day." he winked,

She playfully rolled her eyes, "Goodnight Luka."

"Goodnight Rose," he smiled

The two waved softly to each other before they called off and Luka's phone went black,

Luka sat in his chair for a moment the smile falling from his lips, as he already felt like he missed the sound of her voice and the sweet view of her face. He tossed his shirt back on and took his phone with him to the bed, He shut off his light and left his phone to charge. Before he wrapped his arms around his pillow,

"Goodnight, sweet Rosie," he whispered into the darkness before he began to drift off to sleep.

Chapter Nine - Work Out

Deep within Wayne Manor, Luka grunted with every exertion, his muscles straining against the challenge of the pull-up bar. His fingers curled tightly around the cool, metallic pole, trembling slightly as he fought to maintain his grip through his leather gloves and bandages. Beads of sweat traced a path down his forehead, mingling with the determination etched on his face. With each chin-up, he focused intently, counting silently to himself,

Luka was clad in the same striking outfit he always chose for his training sessions. His red leggings hugged his legs snugly, The sleek black muscle tee clung to his frame. A harness of weights was strapped securely around his shoulders and waist. His arms bore the evidence of his hard work, wrapped in bandages and plasters that barely concealed the bruises he had accumulated during countless challenging sessions.

He kept his legs straight, feeling the tension run through his body, like a taut wire, as he pulled himself upward. Each ascent was a battle, but he maintained a steady rhythm, his breath coming in measured gasps.

"You're remarkably on the ball today?" Alfred laughed from the mat,

"Yeah." Luka snapped back,

"You trying to work off a pizza, I don't know about?" He joked,

"No, it's nothing," Luka replied between gasps,

"Mhm... sure." he nodded, "Hang time. Go on."

"Can't... I... Do... A... few... more..." He gasped,

Alfred paused, "Hang time. Now."

Luka groaned and did as he was told climbing up onto the bar and hanging down from only his leg grip, "Can't I do a few more pull-ups? Or a while more on the treadmill?" he pleaded,

"Luka, have you somehow been replaced by a CrossFit robot?"

"No, I just want to do alot of cardio and weights." he shrugged,

"You need slower, cool down stuff too or you'll end up hurting yourself."

"I know..." he whined, "But I just think-"

"What?"

"That doing a more intense workout will be better for me."

"Mhm..." Alfred nodded, "Why?"

"I just want to," Luka lied,

"You know Luka if you're having any issues with your confi-"

"I'm fine Alfred." he snapped, "I just... want to work out a little more,"

"Horse. Go on."

Luka rolled his eyes but jumped down and headed over to the brown pommel horse, he climbed up and began the usual routine so drilled into his mind he didn't need to think about it, holding each stay to his limit as was always the rules.

"Any late-night snack cupboard trips you want to hide from your mother?" Alfred asked, using this excuse to pry into Luka's mind while he was focused.

"I'm not ten anymore."

"Hence why I asked." he glared,

"You planning on fighting some boys at school?" Alfred asked,

"I'm not fourteen!" He complained,

"Alright, some cute little thing at school?"

Luka was silent, almost tumbling off the horse.

"Oh?"

"No!"

"Is there?"

"No... no... course not... what a... what a foolish-"

"Luka, is there some cute little thing at school you're trying to impress? Wanting to work out more maybe get to look nice with your shirt off?"

"...Maybe." He blushed as he jumped down,

"Who are they?"

"It's nothing-" Luka answered, "I just... She's nice, cute, sweet, adorable, pretty, smart... I just... I like her. And I wanna spend more time with her. Get to know her. I don't want to rush into anything stupid."

"Well, I'm thankful for that." he nodded, "I've had quite enough running around cleaning up Bruce's messes, I am too old to be dealing with yours."

"I know," Luka blushed, "I'm not stupid, I'm not gonna do anything dumb,"

"You think she might like you too?"

"I hope so... it's too early to really tell if she likes me back."

"Do you want her to?"

"...yeah."

"Well, there's no fault in asking."

"You think so?"

"What could go wrong," Alfred shrugged,

"Thanks." Luka smiled,

"Go on, hit the shower."

Luka nodded thoughtfully, a contemplative look crossing his face as he turned to head toward the shower. He took a few steps forward, but then suddenly paused, his hand lingering on the doorframe. "Uhh Alfred?"

"Yes, Luka?"

"Maybe uhh... could you not tell Mr Wayne about this?"

"And why shouldn't I inform Mr Wayne about your new enthusiasm for exercise."

"You know what he gets like," Luka sighed, "I just... kinda want, Rose to be all mine for a while you know? Just my little secret."

"Not a word," Alfred promised,

"Thank you!" He flashed a quick smile, the kind that lit up his eyes, before he dashed off toward the bathroom, eager to jump into the refreshing cascade of water from the showerhead. 

Chapter Ten - 4.35AM

The sun had yet to rise over the sprawling metropolis of Gotham, cloaking the city in deep shadows and a blanket of tranquillity. The streets, slick from the previous night's rain, bore silent puddles that mirrored the dim light of the early morning sky, creating a serene yet haunting atmosphere. It was a strange kind of stillness as if the world were holding its breath, waiting for the day to awaken.

Luka lay nestled in his bed, the covers drawn snugly around his waist, providing warmth against the cool air that crept to him. His unruly curls fanned out across the pillow, framing a face that was peaceful in slumber. His arms hung over the edges of the pillow, relaxed and devoid of tension, while his mouth hung slightly open, allowing soft breaths to escape, punctuated by the occasional light snore. A small pool of drool formed at the corner of his mouth, as he blissfully dreamed through the quiet moments before dawn.

But his peace was soon interrupted,

The jarring clatter of bedsprings reverberated through the room, mingling with the relentless thud of the headboard as it struck the walls with an almost frantic rhythm. Broken only by his mother's screaming and Steven's grunts.

Luka slowly peeled open his heavy eyelids, He felt a frown creasing his forehead as he instinctively recognised the sound that cut through the morning silence.

With a resigned sigh that seemed to echo in the stillness of the room, he turned his head, seeking refuge in the soft, familiar embrace of his pillow.

He pressed his face against the cool fabric, trying to muffle the unwelcome noise, or perhaps trying to smother himself in it.

But alas he was wide awake.

He turned and grabbed his phone from the charger,

He bit back a groan when he saw the numbers,

'4.35 AM'

Luka reluctantly forced himself up from the warmth of his bed, the remnants of sleep still clinging to him. He rubbed his tired eyes and took a deep breath, steeling himself for the day ahead. The soft light of morning filtered through the curtains, but he knew the atmosphere in the house would be anything but peaceful. With a heavy sigh, he trudged into the small, cluttered bathroom, his feet cold against the tiled floor.

He quickly discarded his comfortable shorts, letting them fall into a heap on the floor. Turning on the faucet, he adjusted the temperature until the water ran hot and steamy, filling the air with warmth. He stepped under the cascade, feeling the heat envelop him, and began scrubbing his skin with fervour. Each scrub felt cathartic, as he focused on washing away not just the dirt but the frustration he felt towards the sounds echoing from his mother's room. He lathered up with soap, working meticulously to cleanse every inch of himself, splashing water over his body to mask the unwelcome noise that managed to break through the bathroom door.

After what felt like an eternity in the shower, Luka finally allowed the water to wash away the last remnants of his thoughts. He reluctantly stepped out, letting the cool air hit his damp skin as he reached for a fluffy towel. As he dried off, the towel felt soft against his skin, soothing him momentarily as he dressed in his go-to lazy day outfit of comfortable joggers and a loose-fitting t-shirt that hung off his frame.

Luka groaned softly, cringing at the cacophony seeping through the walls. Determined to shield himself from it, he reached for his headphones, plugging them in and cranking up the volume on his favourite playlist. He smoothed his hair, splashed cold water on his face, wrapped his bruises and broken skin, and brushed his teeth vigorously.

And even still the sound hadn't ended so he gave up and went downstairs in the hope of being further from the sounds. He made himself a large plate of French toast and poured a bowl of cereal.

He mindlessly read the back of the box as he ate his food, reading over the various fibre and sugar contents while he ate.

Luka jumped as his phone vibrated but he happily grabbed it,

Rose - Good Morning 🙂

So he quickly texted her back,

Luka - Morning 🙁

Rose - What's wrong? And why are you up so early? You don't usually reply for at least few hours?

Luka - Mom woke me up,

Rose - Her and Steven again?

Luka - Yep

Rose - Aww, you poor thing, Sorry Luka

Luka - Thanks Rose, Just annoying to deal with.

Rose - surely they'll get over it soon,

Luka jumped a little as the sudden screams and groans broke through his headphones and then silence,

Luka - Yay!

Rose - Over?

Luka - Over. Now I just pray they don't start again

[daydreamerwonderkid]

They're bonding :3c

Meme reference under cut

Draw the squad poses

Pose 1

Pose 2

[celestialstateofmind]

Bruce:*tucks Dick into bed* Dick: "I love you, Bruce." Bruce: *pauses* "I have a deep regard for you as well, Dickie." ----- Robin!Dick: *pulled an incredibly dangerous stunt on patrol and nearly gave Bruce a heart attack* Bruce/Batman: *just got done checking him for injuries and finally calmed down* "I... I love you, Robin." Robin!Dick: *smiles brightly* "I have a deep regard for you as well, Batman."

[jetslay]

DC Super-Heroes by Barry Kitson.