#aonahel

[dementedspeedster]

💬

Accepting || Send a 💬 or just send [Speech bubble], and my muse will tell a few nicknames they have for your muse! @aonah-el

"Hmmm." Thad lets out a hum as he zips around the hero, "Let's see...Let's see...Well, I can't use your actual name to make up a nickname since I don't know it." He muses with a mischievous look in his eyes, "Though unless you want to tell me, then that's perfectly fine. It would make things easier for me." Thad says with a laugh before stopping in front of him.

"I mean I'm tempted to call you 'Kid,' 'Kiddo,' 'Squirt,' or something like that since that's the easiest thing I can come up with. The easy route of using 'Super' related names are kind of out the window since I knew Kon first. Sorry." Thad crosses his arms, though in the next moment his brows raise as an idea pops into his head, "Unless you want to be known as 'Not Kon'?" He says with a chuckle.

"Ah...Hm. Yeah...If you haven't figured by now, I'm not exactly good at this." He laughs.

[appheirent]

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god.” 

" Can you calm down and explain what happened or are you just going to keep babbling like an idiot? "

[exghul]

Jonathan is here. Again. And with each passing second, he is inching closer for a hug. He'll settle for a hand pat, though.

the knife is out? the knife is definitely out. it's pointed at jon.

[witchoflegends]

@aonah-el​ sent: The thirteen-year-old wasn't trying to be a pain. Honest. Truly. Perhaps he just had a little too much curiosity, too much Lois Lane in his veins. Because as he waited for Bruce to be finished - that way, both of them could surprise Damian with a trip out: Ms.Whittle was the perfect candidate to stake out. A small journalistic notepad in hand, Jonathan Kent matched every single step, scribbling away as he observed. Eventually, he piped up, "Ms.Whittle? How long have you worked for Uncle Bruce, exactly?"

Rose looked from her computer over at Jon with a small smile. “About three years now. Why? You writing a report on me or something?” He was a sweet kid, and she didn’t mind keeping track of him while he waited for Bruce. Even with his never ending curiosity, he was a lot different than the Wayne boys. Especially Damian. While the youngest Wayne would mainly be civil with her, Jon actually seemed to enjoy being around people.

[normaltothemax]

@aonah-el​ from here

Really, it wasn't that surprising that the young teenager quickly awoke, heart pumping loudly and sitting up abruptly. A panic response, due to... extremely unfortunate circumstances that haunted his past.

Damian slept with knives under his pillow. And an attempt to wake him up caused an involuntary reaction to protect, defend. Maya, similarly, had to be woken up from a distance to avoid any injury.

He was slowly becoming the same way, the weight of trauma and stress laying heavily on the sunshine boy's shoulders. Stability had never been a strong point in Jon's powerset. So, when he heard the word ambush: his body levitated, and his eyes snapped open - red with heat vision as he seared two holes through the ceiling, quickly snapping it back shut as he tried to gain a grasp of normalcy.

Get a grip. Get a grip. get a grip - he was with Lucy.

Jon's eyes opened, normal once more, to face the young child.

Lucy stared for a long moment, eyes wide, mouth hanging open. He hadn’t expected a response like that at all. Usually, when he woke up Arthur with one of his adventures, he just smiled the smile that meant he was happy Lucy was having fun, and then went along with whatever scenario the boy had come up with.

And that was all this was supposed to be—a made-up adventure. He’d concocted an elaborate story, filled with pirates and evil mermaids and cannibals, all leading up to them finding a hidden treasure of diamonds and gold da...dublon...doubloons. Yeah, gold doubloons.

This, though. This was...wow.

Finally, after a long silence, Lucy could no longer contain himself; he exploded. “That was awesome!” Arms pulled to his chest, he excitedly bounced in place. “You can fly?! And you got laser eyes?! That’s so cool!”

He laughed as a few little chunks of ceiling sprinkled down from the twin holes Jon had created.

“Do it again!!”

[exghul]

jon gives damian a nice little hug. and tries to fight the urge to bite him (it wouldn't help the vampire theory damian had cooked up).

but it's really hard. because, sometimes you just want to take a chomp into your bestie's shoulder.

he is hesitant to protest to the movement -- at first. he does not understand jonathan's sudden intent for a moment ----- until kryptonian arms are enclosing around him & clasping against his back. here, damian's defenses kick in & bare fingers scrabble desperately to gain purchase against jonathan's frame, to push distance between the pair.

to no avail, his attempts gain him no ground. where cloth meets ( biceps, chest, damian's woolen turtleneck against jon's shoulder ), there is simply warmth. where flesh intersects ( lower arms, jon's neck against damian's ear ), the burning begins.

all that protrudes from damian's throat is a feeble squeak as arms squeeze tight against his ribs. the crushing sensation would be comforting if it were not for the itch of fire ants marching ( biting, nipping as they go ) against, through, in & out of his ear or the buzz of them on his lower arms. it is all he can do not to scream as imaginary flames lap at these key points in their tangled bodies.

he must be losing his mind. the itch, ever present through his young years, prevent damian from ever settling close to anyone, hold him back from touch. he cannot find reference for how a boy could ever feel such a pain: perhaps it is a manifestation of his own guilt, this is the plight given to young boys that swing weapons with deadly precision.

damian pushes against jonathan's grip again, leaning his body towards the freedom of emptiness. this does the trick as arms loosen & the incessant buzzing in his flesh lessens.

he shudders involuntarily at the release, the lack of applied pressure. here, he takes a deep breath to quell the panic completely.

❝ --- you know i hate that, ❞ is all he is able to manage as he continues his deep breaths.

he knows, deep in his chest, if jonathan asked him to endure that pain for eternity: he would without a second thought.

[witchoflegends]

@aonah-el​ sent: [TUCK] - for Dick to find Jon asleep somewhere and tuck them in with a blanket (or jacket, etc) (maybe it's a joint sleepover at nightwing's??? yeah >:) )

He honestly enjoyed watching the youngest of the Wayne and Kent families. He would use any excuse for brotherly bonding, and he knew Damien enjoyed spending time with Jon. Granted, Dick adored all the Kents, so he’d take every chance he could to. What he hadn’t been expecting though was for Jon to be passed out on the floor as Damian hogged the couch. Smiling as he set his mug down, he moved to grab a pillow and a blanket. Placing the blanket carefully over the sleeping boy, he then gently lifted his head and put the pillow under his head.

[dementedspeedster]

superboy is here and he's crossing his arms.

"you know. Kon wasn't the first superboy." He's still sour about that 'not-kon' joke.

Accepting || Continued from here @aonah-el

Thad suppresses a snicker. He knew it wasn't a good or even a flattering nickname in the least, but at least it had gotten a reaction out of this Superboy, which was better than nothing in his book.

"Oh, I'm aware, but he's the one I personally think of when I hear the name." He lets out a chuckle, " Hey, but no hard feelings, yeah?" He says holding out his hand to Superboy to shake. Just a little olive branch of sorts "I didn't actually mean that last suggestion seriously. I get how comparisons are. Really. Your potential reaction was just too hard to resist."

[dementedspeedster]

“I love inside jokes. Love to be a part one someday.”

Accepting || The Office Season 3 Sentence Starters @aonah-el

"Don't you have friends? I'm sure you're a part of an inside joke. Or you can come up with one with your friends." Thad shrugs at the younger.

[normaltothemax]

He's actually surprised by Jon's reaction, somehow not having anticipated him going along with the situation Lucy had proposed. He stares at the older boy for a moment, trying to figure out whether or not he's being made fun of. Hopefully not. He'd enjoyed his time with Jon, so far, and Arthur wouldn't be happy if he had to find yet another babysitter—Lucy had managed to scare off the first three by saying creepy stuff.

Attempt number four clearly wasn't going as he'd planned.

"Yeah. They'll wrap me up in their webs and then suck out all my blood." Hands clutch at his throat, Lucy gasping and thrashing before finally falling still with his eyes squeezed shut, providing Jon with a dramatic enactment of his future death.

Cracking an eye open, he looks back over at Jon. "Do you think the spiders in my brain are the ne-fell-ya ones? What are cara-toids? How come they make the webs gold?"

BABYSITTING WAS NOT EASY. That was the first lesson the teenager learned in this gig economy.

And Lucy gave him a run for his money. But the teen was well-equipped for weird comments and macrabe statements, considering the usual crowd he hung around with.

“Do you think they’ll spin a web into a cocoon around you first? Actually, fun fact about Spider Silk - In the tropics, there are spiders in the Nephila genus that infuse their silks with carotenoids, which, when the sun hits them, makes the webs seem as if they were dipped in liquid gold.” He recites the fact somewhat with excited glee.

Animals were fascinating. Jon looked over back at the young child, “Really, it’s not a bad way to go- in style.”