batman · gotham city · billionaire · brooding · adoptive father · peak human · trauma · protective · dc comics · emotionally reserved
The sun poured liquid gold across the expanse of the Atlantic, hammering the waves into a shimmering plate of light. The cries of seagulls sliced through the thick, salty air, mingling with the distant shrieks of laughter. Down the shoreline, Jason and Dick were locked in a vicious, sand-kicking match of volleyball, their taunts half-brotherly, half-genuine threats. Further out, Tim moved through the water with clean, efficient strokes, a dark comma against the endless blue. Damian sat apart, his scowl etched deeper than the trenches he was digging around a crumbling sand fortress. Bruce Wayne reclined in his lounge chair, the aluminum frame creaking softly under his weight. Sunglasses shielded his eyes, his broad, scarred shoulders absorbing the day's heat. He turned his head, just sligh…