#his name is Richard dick

[martiniluvr]

how it feels to write for jason todd vs dick grayson

[nerokchi]

The first of the blue eyed black hair boys

The shock i felt when i read nightwing's stuff for the first time/read wayne fam adventures to find the same dick grayson from the og teen titans

we love therapy and kind of healthily leaving the nest

[skidkiid]

[doctorsiren]

Hear me out on this. In the silly monster Au, Gumshoe has a confetti canon.

GO GO GUMSHOE CONFETTI CANNON

He was originally built to be a detective for the defense, so when the defense wins, he still has the programming to celebrate

[gloomurii]

Simmons strikes me as the guy to really like self-inserts and tell everyone he hates them. He'd proclaim to everyone that they 'ruin the media' and then turn around to write 18,000 word self insert fanfiction about him on the Stargate team or something.

[queen-of-torches]

Shout out to Mr. and Mrs. Gansey for giving their son such an completely terrible name that no version of his first or middle name was even remotely usable.

[erebosblue]

wait I just put something together.

y’know how a ton of sites have a profanity filter?

…how many times do you think Dick has to put Richard instead of Dick because a site tells him his name is profanity?

[feralnightwing]

hey guys did you know that nightwing.

that dick grayson is. he is.

did you know nightwing is. he is so.

he is so pretty.

hmmngh

[mossfrg]

Now if there’s one thing I love more than angst, it’s Dick Grayson angst feat Batfam. So, instead of studying for finals, I present this:

Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian are captured somehow. Who what how idgaf just roll with it. They’re expecting the normal torture identity reveal bullshit, but instead this villain changes things up.

They are going to be watching Dick’s memories.

Instant freak outs from everyone no one (Jason, Tim) wants to see Nightwing’s infamous hooktips, nor do they (Bruce) want to see how their actions have truly affected Dick. Dick, who is freaking the fuck out because holy shit does mans have trauma and baggage that no one knows about and oh god his dad and his brothers and son are going to watch— But before any of them can do anything, magic wavey hands, the first memory starts.

Definitely don’t think about Dick bursting into tears at the sight of a young 20-something Mary Grayson holding a black-haired toddler, rocking him gently as she sits on a platform above a net while a young 20-something john Grayson practices, taking frequent breaks to check in his wife and their few-month old baby.

Definitely don’t think about how identical Dick looks to John, from the hair color to the jawline to the build, but with Mary’s curls and blue eyes and smile. Definitely don’t think about baby Grayson being left with Zitka while Mary starts training again, the elephant doting on him like he’s her own kid. Definitely don’t think about his first words being “fly” and “up.” Definitely don’t think about all of his aunties and uncles and cousins spoiling him rotten, showing him all their tricks; pickpocketing and knife throwing and contortion and flying-

Or how the first important memory Dick has is of being in the air with his parents. Or how Dick’s “cradle” is a chest they use to store clothing and baby supplies during the day, and at night line with soft pieces of scrap fabric from the tent and costumes to lay baby Dick down in.

Or how in every memory, Dick is called Robin— my Robin, little Robin Grayson, this is my son Robin— unless he’s performing, only then called by a stage name of “Richard” and “Dick” by fans; how Dick’s real name is Robin; not a nickname, not a petname, his name.

[gorillaxyz]

theres another reason why kennedy won the 1960 election that always gets overlooked </3

[slyvester101]

Ok, is Simmons first name Richard and he has the nickname ‘Dick’ or is his name just Dick? Because on Ao3, his tag is just Dick Simmons, but I’ve seen people (mainly on tumblr) tag him as ‘Richard’.

I think it would be way more funny if his name was just Dick. That’s his birth name, that’s what’s on his birth certificate. Dick Simmons.

[tokenducks]

FTM Dick Grayson will always be real to me because it makes it canon that Dick is the funniest character of all time for picking his name.

[echo-goes-mmm]

Evening Entertainment (Oneshot)

My Writing Masterpost

Warnings: non-con, violence, forced to watch, slavery, past dubcon (oral), strangulation

Aster watched uncomfortably as Prince Richard tormented Sparrow. He’d come unannounced, and Aster was left scrambling to host the prince. Richard had unfortunately seen Sparrow, a small-framed slip of a young man, and there was no saving the poor slave. 

Aster regretted dressing Sparrow up in only a black leather collar and cute black boxers. It had been entertaining to see his staff embarrassed while Sparrow walked around unbothered, but it had only drawn Richard’s eye.

Now Sparrow writhed and screamed as Richard violated him bloody. Aster wanted to look away, but that would only encourage him. The prince struck Sparrow across the face again, splitting his lip.

Aster met Sparrow’s eyes, and the hint of betrayal in his expression made his insides squirm. He took a sip of his whiskey. Aster would have lit up a cigarette, but Richard had decided to put out his cigar on the inside of Sparrow’s sensitive thigh just to hear him scream, and it put him off from smoking. 

Sure, he’d put cigarettes out on Sparrow's shoulder once or twice before, but that was different. Sparrow was a present from a cousin, and Aster enjoyed him as an indulgence. But not like this. 

He never shoved Sparrow down on his dick when the slave sucked him off. He never strangled him, he never raped him, he never beat him black and blue and bloody. 

Sparrow was an amusement, a dutiful slave that fetched him whiskey and cocktails, kissed his boots and licked them clean. He wasn’t a doll for Richard’s sick games.

And Sparrow kept looking to him, to interfere on his behalf. Sparrow was so loyal and obedient, and he knew from the look on his face that he wanted to beg Aster to help him. Thank god Sparrow wasn’t so dazed from the blows he would actually do it. It would only make things worse for him, for the both of them.

But he knew the thought running through Sparrow’s head: Why are you letting this happen to me?

___________________

Master kept watching stoically. Impassive. Stone-faced. Did he even care?

He screamed as this- this stranger forced himself into him. It hurt so much. 

What had he done wrong? 

He’d been so good. He just wanted to go back to the way things were.

The stranger- the prince- bent him in strange positions and he ached all over. The stranger hit him across the face again, and stars burst in his vision. Blood dripped from between his legs and his ass burned. 

Please, he wanted to scream, What did I do? Sparrow looked up towards Master through his tears.

But Master didn’t seem interested in saving him.

Sparrow just wanted to kiss Master’s boots again, and be his astray and pour drinks and please him with his mouth like before. Anything but this. It was going so well; why was this happening to him?

___________________

In another life, Richard would be a bully on a playground, stealing little girls’ baby dolls just to tear the arms off in front of them.

Sparrow yelped as Richard flipped him over and grabbed his soft brown hair. 

“More wine, your highness?” Richard grinned up at him.

“Sure, why not?” He let go of Sparrow’s hair to take the glass of merlot. Sparrow hung his head, sobbing, while Richard sipped at his drink and thrust into him. Richard smacked his ass, hard enough to make Sparrow cry out and jolt forward. Aster could see the red handprint begin to form. 

Aster poured himself another measure of whiskey. He drank it slowly. He couldn’t afford to lose himself in the alcohol. 

He plied Richard with more and more wine, until he was too tipsy and lazy for another round of torture. 

Richard declined to spend the night, thank god. After hours of watching Sparrow scream, Aster was incredibly relieved to see him go.

Sparrow curled up on the floor, trembling from shock. Aster finally lit up a cigarette and sighed into it. He rang for a servant, and his favorite appeared at the door. She looked pale and nauseous. The whole house had probably heard everything. 

“Marcie, could you get Sparrow a change of clothes?”

“Of course, my lord.” She disappeared into the corridor.

“Sparrow,” he called, “come here.”

Sparrow looked up, tears streaming down his face and an angry purple handprint around his throat. He dutifully uncurled, and crawled to him. He had a limp. Sparrow gingerly sat in front of him, his ass probably still on fire from Richard’s roughness.

God, he was such a good boy.

He poured a measure of whiskey into a second glass. “Drink. It will help numb the pain.”

Shaking, Sparrow took the glass. He took a sip of it. Aster could see a flash of disgust on Sparrow’s face but he smoothed his expression quickly. Aster snorted. Of course he didn’t have a taste for whiskey. 

Marcie returned with a pair of clean underwear for Sparrow and a button up shirt. Aster hadn’t specified, but Marcie’s quick thinking was why he liked her. 

“Marcie, make Sparrow a drink that doesn’t taste like alcohol. Something strong.”

“Yes, my lord.”

He took the whiskey from Sparrow. He got dressed, wincing at every movement. Marcie handed him a glass of something colorful, and Sparrow took a taste and then a long drink of the cocktail.

“That will be all, Marcie.” She bowed, and left.

Aster took out his handkerchief. “Here, wipe your face.”

“Yes, Master.”

“You did well,” said Aster. 

“Why- why did you..” Sparrow broke down in sobs again, clutching the handkerchief. 

Aster slapped him. Sparrow quieted, looking down at the floor. He couldn’t let Sparrow think he could talk out of turn, even if Aster had made a mistake.

“Don’t ask stupid questions. No one is exempt from the crown’s desires. Even if his highness has three siblings and five nieces and nephews between him and the throne. Understand?”

“Yes, Master.” 

He sighed. “I doubt you’ll have to see Prince Richard again. He rarely visits the minor nobility.” He swirled the remaining whiskey in the glass. “This is the first time he’s come here.”

He downed the rest of the drink.

“Take tomorrow off. I don’t want to see you working. You’ve done enough tonight.” Sparrow looked up at him, his honey eyes grateful.

“Get something to eat before you go to bed.”

“Yes, Master.”

___________________

Aster went to his bedroom after some quality time with his cigarette. Sparrow was in the kitchen, as ordered.

He truly felt bad about the evening. It was the most awful thing he’d ever seen. The tales of Richard’s sadism hadn’t prepared him at all. 

He passed by the spot where Sparrow slept- on the floor, at the foot of his bed. Aster hadn’t given him much in the way of comfort. But Sparrow had more than proved himself with how well he tolerated Richard. 

Aster rang for a butler. 

“My lord?”

“Order something for Sparrow to sleep on. Something unobtrusive. He’s spent enough time on the bare floor. And get me a spare quilt.”

“Yes, my lord.”

The butler fetched the blanket quickly, and Aster placed the folded fabric right where Sparrow would see it. He was a clever boy; he’d know it was for him.

Aster went to bed. He hoped the echo of Sparrow’s screams would leave him soon.

taglist: @paintedpigeon1

[nostalgia-tblr]

gotta admit i'm a little disappointed to discover there's no richard iii/reader porn on ao3.

[8jazzie8]

I was looking at twitter and saw someone’s nightwing design and said “wow your dick looks really good” and paused and sat in silence for about 10 minutes

[msfcatlover]

Y’know, in the town I grew up in there was like… a silent war over what we called the town. It had a few different nicknames (and, of course, a full name) and everyone chose one which sounded right to them and stuck to it. If two people who chose different sides ended up talking about it, they would passive aggressively use their own preferred nickname more & more pointedly as the conversation went on.

Anyway, DC’s version of this is Bludhaven. There are people who call it Blud (pronounced “blood,”) people who call it Blud (pronounced “blue’d”), people who call it BHC (like NYC), people who call it BC (“You can’t just take an initial from the middle of a word!”), people who call it Haven, and people who call it by its full name (with either of the previous 2 pronunciations.)

And if you question any of them, they’ll tell you theirs is the only right way to say it. Everyone else is wrong.