woaahh I just had like an idea, you don't have to do it but
Yk how in some comics Damian has like a twin/clone(?) that's a mix of Slade and Talia? Respawn I think his name was? I'm sorry if my info is wrong, I don't read as much of their comics cause they expensive here by me.
What if he met Damian's gf? How do you think he'd react? What if he caught feelings for her?
You don't have to do this but it's just a fun little idea I thought of <3
Family dinner VIII✧₊⁺
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
pairing|damian wayne x reader (feat. Respawn)
summary|damian and his clone unsurprisingly have the same type.
word count|2187
warnings|underage drinking, love triangle?, teenage romance.
notes|tysm for this idea!!I loved doing it, I hope I executed it well😭 and yes, Respawn is Damian’s clone made from his dna mixed a little with Slade’s dna and raised by the league, I’m not sure if I did his character justice though.
Family dinner masterlist
You and Damian were out for dinner. It was calm, simple—an evening that felt almost normal, until it wasn’t.
Across the street, a robbery broke out at a bank. Damian shot you an apologetic look, handed you enough money to pay the bill, and slipped away to handle it—just like that, dinner forgotten.
You ended up standing outside the restaurant, phone in hand, humming softly as you waited for him to finish and come back for you.
That’s when you felt it.
The prickling sensation of someone’s eyes on you. Watching.
Then—thud.
A soft sound you knew too well, the same sound one of the Bats made when they landed from a rooftop. You turned quickly, eyes widening.
There, in the shadows of a nearby alley, was a boy. White hair stark against the darkness, green eyes glowing faintly.
He stepped forward, and your heart stuttered.
He was a little taller than you, lean but muscular, his sharp features cutting into the dim light. Straight nose, faintly upturned at the tip. Heart-shaped lips. Those eyes—green, bright, and much too familiar. His face was Damian’s face. His stance was Damian’s stance. Everything about him screamed Damian.
It was unnerving. Almost like staring at a slightly distorted mirror of your boyfriend.
Damian had never mentioned having a twin. Then again… he wasn’t exactly the most forthcoming about his family.
“Hello?” you called cautiously, frowning.
He stepped closer, arms folded over his armored chest.
Without a word, he suddenly moved—shoving you to the side. You stumbled back, startled, just in time to see him strike a man who had been creeping toward you, ready to snatch your purse.
The attacker stiffened instantly—paralyzed—and collapsed to the pavement like a ragdoll.
The white-haired boy turned back to you, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips when he caught the stunned look on your face.
“You’re welcome,” he said smoothly.
“Uh… thank you,” you muttered, still frowning, trying to piece together who—or what—this guy was. “I’m sorry, but… who are you? And why do you look exactly like—”
“Your boyfriend?” he interrupted with a raised brow. It wasn’t even a question, more like an observation.
You hesitated, nodding slowly.
“Well, I’m his clone. Of sorts,” he said casually, as if that wasn’t the most insane sentence you’d ever heard. “I take it he didn’t mention me.”
“No,” you said flatly. “He did not mention a clone.”
You looked him over, taking in every too-familiar detail. He did the same to you, his eyes scanning with a focus that felt almost confrontational.
“(Name),” he said suddenly. “Pretty name.”
You raised a brow. It was impossible to tell if he was being sincere or mocking.
“Blonde Damian,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes.
“Funny,” he deadpanned.
You tilted your head, pretending to study him. “Guess that’s two out of three on the mom’s side, huh?”
That got his attention. His brows shot up. “You met Ra’s?”
You shook your head. “Talia. It was… nice.” You chose your words carefully, unsure if anything could come across as offensive.
“Yeah, I’m sure it was a blast,” he quipped sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
You smirked. “Oh, just the best of times.”
The corner of his mouth twitched like he wanted to smile, but he caught himself. Then his gaze snapped past you, sharp and alert.
“Don’t tell him about this,” he said abruptly.
“What—”
But he was already gone, disappearing into the shadows.
You were still gaping when you heard Damian’s voice.
“Beloved? Are you alright?”
You nearly jumped, spinning around. There he was, now dressed in his civilian clothes, his expression curious and faintly suspicious.
“Yea—yes, everything’s fine,” you said quickly. For some reason, you didn’t mention the clone.
He gave you a look but let it go, slipping an arm around your shoulders and pressing a kiss to your forehead. You smiled instinctively… but that sensation of being watched lingered.
Damian’s gaze dropped to the unconscious man on the ground. “What the hell happened here?”
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
The next time you met him, you were in the Batcave with Damian.
The manor was quiet—only Alfred and the pets were home. The others were either on patrol or off doing their own things. Damian, stuck with a not-so-minor leg injury, had been relegated to file duty.
You sat in front of the Bat-chair, gently massaging his leg as he worked. The calm atmosphere didn’t last long.
A soft thud.
Both of you froze. Damian’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing as his hand instinctively hovered near his sword. You followed his gaze as a figure stepped into the light.
“Rikard,” Damian drawled, his tone sharp with irritation.
The boy with white hair smirked faintly. “Damian.”
You blinked between them, stunned. “Your name’s Rikard?”
He tilted his head, studying you like he couldn’t decide if you were teasing him or not. “You think that’s cool? Wait until you hear my moniker.”
You rolled your eyes. “Who said I thought it was cool?”
For a moment, you forgot Damian was even in the room. You and Rikard shared the same dry, faint smile—two people who understood each other’s sarcasm.
Damian blinked. Once. Twice. His frown deepened. He pushed against the chair arm as if to stand, then winced—remembering his leg would make that attempt… less than graceful.
“You two have met,” he said sharply, his tone dripping with accusation.
You froze. “Uh…”
“Like a week ago,” you admitted sheepishly, wincing.
“A week?!” Damian’s voice rose, incredulous. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”
“He told me not to!” you said defensively, pointing at Rikard.
Rikard made a face.
“And you listened?”
Damian’s glare shifted between the two of you like he was trying to decide who was more at fault. Finally, he locked eyes with Rikard. “Why would you tell her not to tell me?”
Rikard didn’t answer. The two of them stared at each other—same green eyes, same unspoken fire.
Finally, Rikard shrugged lazily. “I just wanted to meet the love of my brother’s life.”
Your face heated instantly.
“So… you’re stalking us?” you teased.
Rikard grinned faintly.
Damian scoffed. “Of course he is. It’s in his DNA.”
“I was made from your DNA,” Rikard replied, as if confused by the insult.
“Exactly.” Damian shot back.
Both of them rolled their eyes at the same time. It was almost comical.
“Wait—” you started, trying to cut the tension. “That day I first saw you… were you in your alter ego…?”
“Respawn,” he said simply.
Your jaw dropped. “Respawn? You’re kidding!”
“I told you you’d be impressed,” Rikard said smugly.
You giggled, that soft laugh that Damian adored—and this time, it wasn’t aimed at him. His jaw clenched.
Before you could say anything else, Damian pushed up from his chair, misjudging his injured leg. Pain shot through him, and he almost doubled over with a hiss.
“Baby, are you okay?!” you rushed to him, sliding under one arm.
“I’m fine,” he gritted out, his pride stinging more than his leg.
“You’re not,” Rikard interjected, moving to support Damian’s other side. “We’re taking you to bed.”
Damian groaned. “This is humiliating.”
You helped Damian onto his bed, grabbing ice packs and gel while Rikard sat nearby in a chair, arms crossed but watching with surprising concern which you thought was sweet.
You and Rikard exchanged jokes as you fussed over Damian, your laughter soft and warm. Damian’s eyes tracked you both, a frown etched into his features. Even with your hands tending to his injury, he could feel your attention drifting toward Rikard.
“All done, baby,” you said sweetly, leaning down to press a kiss to Damian’s forehead.
Rikard whistled teasingly, earning a playful giggle from you. Damian wanted to groan.
Rikard stood after a moment. “Well, it was nice meeting the Mrs. I’m out.”
You hurried after him as he opened the window. “Stay safe!” you called, smiling when he returned it with a genuine grin.
“For you,” he said with a wink, before vanishing into the night.
Your smile faltered the second you turned back around and saw Damian’s expression. His glare was sharp enough to cut steel.
“What the hell was that?”
“What’s wrong?” you asked, brows furrowing.
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t act stupid. You were fangirling over my brother—my clone—and he’s our age. He’s not Dick or Jason. And you were making me feel like the third wheel. And you’re my girlfriend!”
You paused, trying to take it all in. “Baby, I was just getting to know him. Isn’t that what you want? For your family to like me? Or for me to like them? Or would you rather they knock me out for interrogation?”
Damian stared at you, eyes sharp. “I suppose I prefer you being friendly… but don’t let it even inch near flirtation. I know the line’s blurry since he looks exactly like me. But don’t even think about it.”
You sighed, leaning over him, your forehead resting gently on his. “I’m sorry if that felt flirty. I promise, I didn’t mean it. I love you. Only you.”
Eventually, the three of you settled into a rhythm. The giggling faded, replaced by comfortable teasing and easy camaraderie. It was nice—fun, chaste, just teenagers hanging out.
But then, something shifted.
Rikard didn’t know when it happened, but he started falling for you. Hard.
Every time he saw Damian pull you close—kiss you, hug you—it tore at him.
He hated being near you and knowing it could never be anything. Knowing you were fully, completely in love with his brother—the same brother he was supposed to protect.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
One night, he’d been defeated, thinking about you, griefing Slade, and had gone drinking for the first time, to dull the ache, now he was here; stumbling into your balcony.
He rapped on the glass, heart pounding, mind clouded by alcohol and confusion.
You woke to the noise and gasped, sliding the door open to help him inside.
“Jesus, Rikard, what happened?” you asked with concern, guiding him to sit on the edge of your bed.
“Nothing… just—stay with me,” he slurred, clutching your hand.
You nodded, voice soft with sympathy. “Of course.”
He stared into your eyes. “You know—Damian’s lucky…”
You frowned, confused.
“Lucky to have a girl who loves him. Who cares for him even with his—bitchy ass,” Rikard muttered, a sad smile tugging at his lips. “Who’s pretty. Funny. Just so normal.”
Your cheeks flushed.
He continued, voice low and broken. “Like—you can give him babies…” hiccup “…that are normal, who don’t have to grow up with shit.”
You sighed, running a comforting hand down his back. “You’ll find a girl like that too, Rikard.”
He looked at you with unblinking eyes. “Yeah, I will.”
Then, suddenly, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours.
Shock froze you.
The shape, the softness—it was just like Damian’s—but it lacked the warmth you knew.
You pulled away immediately, pushing him gently but firmly.
He looked like he might cry. “Look… I’m sorry. I know this is wrong.”
You stood, heart pounding. “Rikard, you’re a great friend. I care about you—but this can’t happen.”
He stumbled to his feet. “I know.”
Before you could say more, he was gone—leaping off your balcony into the night.
Days later, Rikard was in his safe house, sharpening swords.
Suddenly, movement—too fast to react.
He was pinned to the ground.
Damian stood over him, katana pressed to Rikard’s throat.
“Brother,” Rikard said coolly.
“Was this all a plan to steal my girlfriend?” Damian asked, voice cold, eyes piercing.
“No,” Rikard replied, breathing steady despite the blade.
“Why?” Damian pressed.
“I fell in love with her,” Rikard admitted after a pause.
Damian scoffed. “I’m being honest. I stalked her to make sure she was right for you—not using you. But when I met her…”
“You saw a future,” Damian finished, pulling away to let him get up, arms crossing, expression unreadable.
Rikard nodded. “But it was delusion. She loves you. You love her. I’m a clone. A fake. An outlier.”
“You’re my brother,” Damian said quietly. “Not an outlier.”
Rikard shook his head. “Brothers don’t fall for their brother’s girlfriends or kiss them. I’m sorry. If I were sober…”
Damian raised a hand to stop him.
“I understand why you did it. It’s why your head’s still on your shoulders. But you need to make (name) understand it too. She deserves an explanation. And you better make it up to her.”
That was what led him to the Batcave, you sat with Rikard, alone.
“I just wanted you to know I was out of line. But I love you,” he said quietly.
Your breath caught.
“That’s why you’ll never see me again after this.”
Panic surged through you, heart racing.
He pulled a wilted flower from his pocket—your favorite one.
“Goodbye, (name).”
And with that, he left.
Leaving you to stare in the darkness, “Goodbye, Rikard.”
