Jon S. Kent

Jon Kent RP blog! | pls check pinned | main: https://www.tumblr.com/rexxillions "idk man, they think I'm cute!"

[jonskentxd]

—; "Sorry, sorry, I just thought—.. never mind.."

[INTRO POST! OOC]

[ hi guys! I’m nelle and i run this blog. im genderfae, 15 yrs old, agere (topic for my main) and i love dc… i made this account to help me quit c.ai and to find friends who could help educate me and find a way to get more connected with the fandom! ] [ i chose jon because i see a lot of my own personality in him, but please feel free to correct me if i get some lore wrong. i’ve only been interested in dc for a little while and haven’t been able to get my hands on physical media yet :( im hoping for some for my b-day! ]

DNI!!!

NSFW accounts / 18+ / mdni [ both the character (headcannoned/based off fandom accounts i interact with) and person behind the account is a minor!! ]

proship/profic

over-the-top angsty blogs [ yall make me sad :( ]

the average dni: racism, homophobia, xenophobia, misogyny, maga and fatphobia

batcest/supercest [ includes jaydick, jaytim, anything like that. I headcanon them as sibling bond only and wouldn’t feel comfortable seeing that kind of stuff… ]

[ thank you for respecting my dni and helping support my journey into not using ai!! im very excited to rp on here, but please note i can get anxious sometimes and feel embarrassed… please don’t make fun of me :(… for more info about me u can check here… okay ty! see u!! ]

"Who’s the man? I’m the man!"

[tomatohorse]

He’s so fun to draw 🫶🫶🫶🫶 I love him dearly

Commission for @leilanising-sideblog (TY! ☺️)

[solanaceaeplant]

Missin' the summer!

[angelgemy]

I like to think that thanks to Jason's death, Dick's hair became straighter and let it grew bacause he couldn't care less. He was trying to be a good brother to Tim tho, and Timmy was trying to also be a good brother but you know, he was doing the best a little kid could know.

[lilsnuffklins]

Belated valentines day 🚙🚙🚙

[jonskentxd]

hey, whats ur main acc?

[ hi there! it’s https://www.tumblr.com/rexxillions <3 I don’t use it much so if u follow or something I likely won’t see it for a while. ^_^ ]

[greenxreaper-deactivated2019112]

Reblog if you're an Active RP Blog

[lesansnom]

Cassie et Bart

J’ai encore changé le design de Cassie, je pense que lui donner une épée peut être vraiment cool

[jonskentxd]

OOC ANNOUNCEMENT: birthday

[ hi all! I wanted to take a break from this account’s usual posting to say that today (02/14/26) is my birthday!! If we’re moots id just appreciate a nice comment!! Also pls check out my other socials…. vvvv]

Discord: rexxiilions

x: https://x.com/certifiednelle

Purely Human: https://purelyhuman.xyz/artists/nellebelle

[ thank you all for supporting me it genuinely means the world to me… thats all from me!! Cant wait for some more rps :3 ]

[capricornluna-deactivated201810]

this blog hates donald trump

[pearlmarley]

Look how many people hate him. I’m pretty damn happy about that 😁😁😁😁😁😁

[lilsnuffklins]

Jaime reyes i messed up the suit km so sorry

[arkhams-knighted]

Lit RP starter! As always, anyone can roleplay. Mentioned/implied heavier topics, but none are described graphically.

AK wakes up heaving, burning off the edge of a nightmare. He was there, again, always there, always taunted by the thought of living another day with no faith. No family caring enough to save, and a broken bird not worth saving, anyways.

He pulls himself up, dizzy, darting to the bathroom to wipe off the feeling of sickness and the memories of how his own words made it worse. Stepping into the bathroom, he turns on the sink. Hopes it'll drown out noise of his screams, replayed in his mind like a film reel Joker would use to record.

His eyes catch on his own reflection in the mirror, and he freezes. It's him. But it's not. It can't be him, because what boy would be scarred like he is. What Robin would've held out for nothing, except pain and words carved into skin, thoughts forced into his mind that he swore he'd never think, subjected to a mutilation of mental and physical, tearing him apart.

And then he's sick again, hurling into the ivory of the toilet. He halfheartedly thinks of messaging Dick, maybe being able to talk about anything from then, for once. But he decides not to.

After a moment, he forces himself to stand up. Take a gulp of air, change and grab his coat, heading outside. He's not there anymore. He's not in Arkham, but the memories stick to him like a sheen of sweat. Outside, he's alright. It's a calm coldness, a grounding type. The breeze is nice, and he takes a moment to appreciate the barren, but pretty trees and life of Gotham.

[jonskentxd]

Jon sat, legs dangling, upon a rooftop. He had that look that he was waiting for something, but with his immaculate hearing, he still perked and turned to gaze at the area where the door hinge had creaked as it opened. He was all too aware he wasn’t exactly where he needed to be, nor should be.

Jon’s eyes narrowed, watching the figure that stepped out. He slipped off the edge and moved a little closer, hiding behind the same roof lining he was just sitting on, only peeking out now. He was silent, but that silence brought forward the interest in his eyes. He was admittedly interested in the figure— who was this? Why are they out so late other than waiting for their best friend?— who stumbled out of the door.

[arkhams-knighted]

It was late out— but the calmness of the night was refreshing. He was grateful for it, especially after years stuck underground. Taking a breath, he paused, fidgeting with a coat sleeve. He didn't really know where he was headed, but he was walking, now.

[jonskentxd]

Jon raised an eyebrow, watching him go through the motions. He stayed as quiet as possible, but even still, the wind that night lifted his cape into view behind him— of course, unbeknownst to him— while watching, completely blowing his cover. Yet still, he watched the man below, wariness and interest warring at him.

[arkhams-knighted]

He began walking, only to stop when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Turning, he'd crane his head, squinting up at the figure on the rooftop in the dim light. ".. Hello?" He called, regretting it in moments. He didn't know who this person was, and maybe it was better to relax on his own, but.. he was curious.

[jonskentxd]

”oh—uh..” Jon shuffled awkwardly. “I-I was just waiting for my friend. He went to go grab some snacks and told me to wait here.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I’m so sorry to disrupt you, I… I was just curious.” Jon apologized, clasping his hands together and pouting a little.

[arkhams-knighted]

"Hm." He frowned, thoughtfully, squinting as if trying to figure out Jon. "Curious about what? The scars?" He'd say, gesturing to his face. The scars.. as chill as he acted about them, he hated thinking about them. Hated seeing them.

[jonskentxd]

”More about… how you were acting. N-no offense!” He immediately added, nervousness causing him to stutter. Lord, was this awkward for him. “I just… you were sort of stumbly and I was worried you were gonna be sick or something.” Jon explained hastily. “I-I didn’t even notice your scars, mister, cross my heart n’ hope to die.” He promised, innocently.

[arkhams-knighted]

"Oh," He'd shrug, straightening. Was it really that obvious that he'd been sick, caught up in nightmares? He frowned, trying to think of something to say. "Well.. I'm fine, now."

[jonskentxd]

“Well… okay, sir. Uh.. I still have to stay here, but…” He smiled, “I’m glad you’re feeling better?” He offered, before sitting down and watching his feet kick over the lining, glancing occasionally the the scales of rooftops, before looking back to his feet.

[arkhams-knighted]

".. Thanks." He'd say after a beat, turning back to look down the street. Slowly, debating on whether or not to continue his walk, he'd scuff his shoes against the ground, skidding pebbles away.

[jonskentxd]

Jon glanced at him one last time, blinking. Not a bad guy, honestly. Though he wouldn’t dare continue a conversation. He had to look cool, too, after all. He puffed out his chest and kept his chin high, trying to do that “brooding” thing Damian had talked about before.

[arkhams-knighted]

Lit RP starter! As always, anyone can roleplay. Mentioned/implied heavier topics, but none are described graphically.

AK wakes up heaving, burning off the edge of a nightmare. He was there, again, always there, always taunted by the thought of living another day with no faith. No family caring enough to save, and a broken bird not worth saving, anyways.

He pulls himself up, dizzy, darting to the bathroom to wipe off the feeling of sickness and the memories of how his own words made it worse. Stepping into the bathroom, he turns on the sink. Hopes it'll drown out noise of his screams, replayed in his mind like a film reel Joker would use to record.

His eyes catch on his own reflection in the mirror, and he freezes. It's him. But it's not. It can't be him, because what boy would be scarred like he is. What Robin would've held out for nothing, except pain and words carved into skin, thoughts forced into his mind that he swore he'd never think, subjected to a mutilation of mental and physical, tearing him apart.

And then he's sick again, hurling into the ivory of the toilet. He halfheartedly thinks of messaging Dick, maybe being able to talk about anything from then, for once. But he decides not to.

After a moment, he forces himself to stand up. Take a gulp of air, change and grab his coat, heading outside. He's not there anymore. He's not in Arkham, but the memories stick to him like a sheen of sweat. Outside, he's alright. It's a calm coldness, a grounding type. The breeze is nice, and he takes a moment to appreciate the barren, but pretty trees and life of Gotham.

[jonskentxd]

Jon sat, legs dangling, upon a rooftop. He had that look that he was waiting for something, but with his immaculate hearing, he still perked and turned to gaze at the area where the door hinge had creaked as it opened. He was all too aware he wasn’t exactly where he needed to be, nor should be.

Jon’s eyes narrowed, watching the figure that stepped out. He slipped off the edge and moved a little closer, hiding behind the same roof lining he was just sitting on, only peeking out now. He was silent, but that silence brought forward the interest in his eyes. He was admittedly interested in the figure— who was this? Why are they out so late other than waiting for their best friend?— who stumbled out of the door.

[arkhams-knighted]

It was late out— but the calmness of the night was refreshing. He was grateful for it, especially after years stuck underground. Taking a breath, he paused, fidgeting with a coat sleeve. He didn't really know where he was headed, but he was walking, now.

[jonskentxd]

Jon raised an eyebrow, watching him go through the motions. He stayed as quiet as possible, but even still, the wind that night lifted his cape into view behind him— of course, unbeknownst to him— while watching, completely blowing his cover. Yet still, he watched the man below, wariness and interest warring at him.

[arkhams-knighted]

He began walking, only to stop when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Turning, he'd crane his head, squinting up at the figure on the rooftop in the dim light. ".. Hello?" He called, regretting it in moments. He didn't know who this person was, and maybe it was better to relax on his own, but.. he was curious.

[jonskentxd]

”oh—uh..” Jon shuffled awkwardly. “I-I was just waiting for my friend. He went to go grab some snacks and told me to wait here.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I’m so sorry to disrupt you, I… I was just curious.” Jon apologized, clasping his hands together and pouting a little.

[arkhams-knighted]

"Hm." He frowned, thoughtfully, squinting as if trying to figure out Jon. "Curious about what? The scars?" He'd say, gesturing to his face. The scars.. as chill as he acted about them, he hated thinking about them. Hated seeing them.

[jonskentxd]

”More about… how you were acting. N-no offense!” He immediately added, nervousness causing him to stutter. Lord, was this awkward for him. “I just… you were sort of stumbly and I was worried you were gonna be sick or something.” Jon explained hastily. “I-I didn’t even notice your scars, mister, cross my heart n’ hope to die.” He promised, innocently.

[arkhams-knighted]

"Oh," He'd shrug, straightening. Was it really that obvious that he'd been sick, caught up in nightmares? He frowned, trying to think of something to say. "Well.. I'm fine, now."

[jonskentxd]

“Well… okay, sir. Uh.. I still have to stay here, but…” He smiled, “I’m glad you’re feeling better?” He offered, before sitting down and watching his feet kick over the lining, glancing occasionally the the scales of rooftops, before looking back to his feet.

[arkhams-knighted]

Lit RP starter! As always, anyone can roleplay. Mentioned/implied heavier topics, but none are described graphically.

AK wakes up heaving, burning off the edge of a nightmare. He was there, again, always there, always taunted by the thought of living another day with no faith. No family caring enough to save, and a broken bird not worth saving, anyways.

He pulls himself up, dizzy, darting to the bathroom to wipe off the feeling of sickness and the memories of how his own words made it worse. Stepping into the bathroom, he turns on the sink. Hopes it'll drown out noise of his screams, replayed in his mind like a film reel Joker would use to record.

His eyes catch on his own reflection in the mirror, and he freezes. It's him. But it's not. It can't be him, because what boy would be scarred like he is. What Robin would've held out for nothing, except pain and words carved into skin, thoughts forced into his mind that he swore he'd never think, subjected to a mutilation of mental and physical, tearing him apart.

And then he's sick again, hurling into the ivory of the toilet. He halfheartedly thinks of messaging Dick, maybe being able to talk about anything from then, for once. But he decides not to.

After a moment, he forces himself to stand up. Take a gulp of air, change and grab his coat, heading outside. He's not there anymore. He's not in Arkham, but the memories stick to him like a sheen of sweat. Outside, he's alright. It's a calm coldness, a grounding type. The breeze is nice, and he takes a moment to appreciate the barren, but pretty trees and life of Gotham.

[jonskentxd]

Jon sat, legs dangling, upon a rooftop. He had that look that he was waiting for something, but with his immaculate hearing, he still perked and turned to gaze at the area where the door hinge had creaked as it opened. He was all too aware he wasn’t exactly where he needed to be, nor should be.

Jon’s eyes narrowed, watching the figure that stepped out. He slipped off the edge and moved a little closer, hiding behind the same roof lining he was just sitting on, only peeking out now. He was silent, but that silence brought forward the interest in his eyes. He was admittedly interested in the figure— who was this? Why are they out so late other than waiting for their best friend?— who stumbled out of the door.

[arkhams-knighted]

It was late out— but the calmness of the night was refreshing. He was grateful for it, especially after years stuck underground. Taking a breath, he paused, fidgeting with a coat sleeve. He didn't really know where he was headed, but he was walking, now.

[jonskentxd]

Jon raised an eyebrow, watching him go through the motions. He stayed as quiet as possible, but even still, the wind that night lifted his cape into view behind him— of course, unbeknownst to him— while watching, completely blowing his cover. Yet still, he watched the man below, wariness and interest warring at him.

[arkhams-knighted]

He began walking, only to stop when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Turning, he'd crane his head, squinting up at the figure on the rooftop in the dim light. ".. Hello?" He called, regretting it in moments. He didn't know who this person was, and maybe it was better to relax on his own, but.. he was curious.

[jonskentxd]

”oh—uh..” Jon shuffled awkwardly. “I-I was just waiting for my friend. He went to go grab some snacks and told me to wait here.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I’m so sorry to disrupt you, I… I was just curious.” Jon apologized, clasping his hands together and pouting a little.

[arkhams-knighted]

"Hm." He frowned, thoughtfully, squinting as if trying to figure out Jon. "Curious about what? The scars?" He'd say, gesturing to his face. The scars.. as chill as he acted about them, he hated thinking about them. Hated seeing them.

[jonskentxd]

”More about… how you were acting. N-no offense!” He immediately added, nervousness causing him to stutter. Lord, was this awkward for him. “I just… you were sort of stumbly and I was worried you were gonna be sick or something.” Jon explained hastily. “I-I didn’t even notice your scars, mister, cross my heart n’ hope to die.” He promised, innocently.

[arkhams-knighted]

Lit RP starter! As always, anyone can roleplay. Mentioned/implied heavier topics, but none are described graphically.

AK wakes up heaving, burning off the edge of a nightmare. He was there, again, always there, always taunted by the thought of living another day with no faith. No family caring enough to save, and a broken bird not worth saving, anyways.

He pulls himself up, dizzy, darting to the bathroom to wipe off the feeling of sickness and the memories of how his own words made it worse. Stepping into the bathroom, he turns on the sink. Hopes it'll drown out noise of his screams, replayed in his mind like a film reel Joker would use to record.

His eyes catch on his own reflection in the mirror, and he freezes. It's him. But it's not. It can't be him, because what boy would be scarred like he is. What Robin would've held out for nothing, except pain and words carved into skin, thoughts forced into his mind that he swore he'd never think, subjected to a mutilation of mental and physical, tearing him apart.

And then he's sick again, hurling into the ivory of the toilet. He halfheartedly thinks of messaging Dick, maybe being able to talk about anything from then, for once. But he decides not to.

After a moment, he forces himself to stand up. Take a gulp of air, change and grab his coat, heading outside. He's not there anymore. He's not in Arkham, but the memories stick to him like a sheen of sweat. Outside, he's alright. It's a calm coldness, a grounding type. The breeze is nice, and he takes a moment to appreciate the barren, but pretty trees and life of Gotham.

[jonskentxd]

Jon sat, legs dangling, upon a rooftop. He had that look that he was waiting for something, but with his immaculate hearing, he still perked and turned to gaze at the area where the door hinge had creaked as it opened. He was all too aware he wasn’t exactly where he needed to be, nor should be.

Jon’s eyes narrowed, watching the figure that stepped out. He slipped off the edge and moved a little closer, hiding behind the same roof lining he was just sitting on, only peeking out now. He was silent, but that silence brought forward the interest in his eyes. He was admittedly interested in the figure— who was this? Why are they out so late other than waiting for their best friend?— who stumbled out of the door.

[arkhams-knighted]

It was late out— but the calmness of the night was refreshing. He was grateful for it, especially after years stuck underground. Taking a breath, he paused, fidgeting with a coat sleeve. He didn't really know where he was headed, but he was walking, now.

[jonskentxd]

Jon raised an eyebrow, watching him go through the motions. He stayed as quiet as possible, but even still, the wind that night lifted his cape into view behind him— of course, unbeknownst to him— while watching, completely blowing his cover. Yet still, he watched the man below, wariness and interest warring at him.

[arkhams-knighted]

He began walking, only to stop when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Turning, he'd crane his head, squinting up at the figure on the rooftop in the dim light. ".. Hello?" He called, regretting it in moments. He didn't know who this person was, and maybe it was better to relax on his own, but.. he was curious.

[jonskentxd]

”oh—uh..” Jon shuffled awkwardly. “I-I was just waiting for my friend. He went to go grab some snacks and told me to wait here.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I’m so sorry to disrupt you, I… I was just curious.” Jon apologized, clasping his hands together and pouting a little.

[arkhams-knighted]

Lit RP starter! As always, anyone can roleplay. Mentioned/implied heavier topics, but none are described graphically.

AK wakes up heaving, burning off the edge of a nightmare. He was there, again, always there, always taunted by the thought of living another day with no faith. No family caring enough to save, and a broken bird not worth saving, anyways.

He pulls himself up, dizzy, darting to the bathroom to wipe off the feeling of sickness and the memories of how his own words made it worse. Stepping into the bathroom, he turns on the sink. Hopes it'll drown out noise of his screams, replayed in his mind like a film reel Joker would use to record.

His eyes catch on his own reflection in the mirror, and he freezes. It's him. But it's not. It can't be him, because what boy would be scarred like he is. What Robin would've held out for nothing, except pain and words carved into skin, thoughts forced into his mind that he swore he'd never think, subjected to a mutilation of mental and physical, tearing him apart.

And then he's sick again, hurling into the ivory of the toilet. He halfheartedly thinks of messaging Dick, maybe being able to talk about anything from then, for once. But he decides not to.

After a moment, he forces himself to stand up. Take a gulp of air, change and grab his coat, heading outside. He's not there anymore. He's not in Arkham, but the memories stick to him like a sheen of sweat. Outside, he's alright. It's a calm coldness, a grounding type. The breeze is nice, and he takes a moment to appreciate the barren, but pretty trees and life of Gotham.

[jonskentxd]

Jon sat, legs dangling, upon a rooftop. He had that look that he was waiting for something, but with his immaculate hearing, he still perked and turned to gaze at the area where the door hinge had creaked as it opened. He was all too aware he wasn’t exactly where he needed to be, nor should be.

Jon’s eyes narrowed, watching the figure that stepped out. He slipped off the edge and moved a little closer, hiding behind the same roof lining he was just sitting on, only peeking out now. He was silent, but that silence brought forward the interest in his eyes. He was admittedly interested in the figure— who was this? Why are they out so late other than waiting for their best friend?— who stumbled out of the door.

[arkhams-knighted]

It was late out— but the calmness of the night was refreshing. He was grateful for it, especially after years stuck underground. Taking a breath, he paused, fidgeting with a coat sleeve. He didn't really know where he was headed, but he was walking, now.

[jonskentxd]

Jon raised an eyebrow, watching him go through the motions. He stayed as quiet as possible, but even still, the wind that night lifted his cape into view behind him— of course, unbeknownst to him— while watching, completely blowing his cover. Yet still, he watched the man below, wariness and interest warring at him.

[arkhams-knighted]

He began walking, only to stop when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Turning, he'd crane his head, squinting up at the figure on the rooftop in the dim light. ".. Hello?" He called, regretting it in moments. He didn't know who this person was, and maybe it was better to relax on his own, but.. he was curious.

[jonskentxd]

Jon gasped quietly, ducking a little further, but it was too late now. He made the mistake of peeking over again— his curiosity was killing him to double check if he’d actually been seen (yes he had)— and then finally stood up, frowning back at his cape. He didn’t even like capes! And now it was just causing problems. He groaned frustratedly, but waved anyway.

[arkhams-knighted]

Lit RP starter! As always, anyone can roleplay. Mentioned/implied heavier topics, but none are described graphically.

AK wakes up heaving, burning off the edge of a nightmare. He was there, again, always there, always taunted by the thought of living another day with no faith. No family caring enough to save, and a broken bird not worth saving, anyways.

He pulls himself up, dizzy, darting to the bathroom to wipe off the feeling of sickness and the memories of how his own words made it worse. Stepping into the bathroom, he turns on the sink. Hopes it'll drown out noise of his screams, replayed in his mind like a film reel Joker would use to record.

His eyes catch on his own reflection in the mirror, and he freezes. It's him. But it's not. It can't be him, because what boy would be scarred like he is. What Robin would've held out for nothing, except pain and words carved into skin, thoughts forced into his mind that he swore he'd never think, subjected to a mutilation of mental and physical, tearing him apart.

And then he's sick again, hurling into the ivory of the toilet. He halfheartedly thinks of messaging Dick, maybe being able to talk about anything from then, for once. But he decides not to.

After a moment, he forces himself to stand up. Take a gulp of air, change and grab his coat, heading outside. He's not there anymore. He's not in Arkham, but the memories stick to him like a sheen of sweat. Outside, he's alright. It's a calm coldness, a grounding type. The breeze is nice, and he takes a moment to appreciate the barren, but pretty trees and life of Gotham.

[jonskentxd]

Jon sat, legs dangling, upon a rooftop. He had that look that he was waiting for something, but with his immaculate hearing, he still perked and turned to gaze at the area where the door hinge had creaked as it opened. He was all too aware he wasn’t exactly where he needed to be, nor should be.

Jon’s eyes narrowed, watching the figure that stepped out. He slipped off the edge and moved a little closer, hiding behind the same roof lining he was just sitting on, only peeking out now. He was silent, but that silence brought forward the interest in his eyes. He was admittedly interested in the figure— who was this? Why are they out so late other than waiting for their best friend?— who stumbled out of the door.

[arkhams-knighted]

It was late out— but the calmness of the night was refreshing. He was grateful for it, especially after years stuck underground. Taking a breath, he paused, fidgeting with a coat sleeve. He didn't really know where he was headed, but he was walking, now.

[jonskentxd]

Jon raised an eyebrow, watching him go through the motions. He stayed as quiet as possible, but even still, the wind that night lifted his cape into view behind him— of course, unbeknownst to him— while watching, completely blowing his cover. Yet still, he watched the man below, wariness and interest warring at him.