Open RP Post

[burnyoudown]

🔥 Hit me up on plurk or via PM if you have any questions/want to run an idea by me first/what-have-you.
🔥 General squick/trigger list.
🔥 m/m for anything shippy.
🔥 General headcanon for Kavinsky. If you've got different headcanon/ideas for a psl, hit me with 'em; I'm flexible.
🔥 Kavinsky's kink list.
🔥 This is open to everyone who wants to thread with me!

Comments

[burnyoudown]

[He didn't bat an eye when Dimitri said he'd dreamt Elijah, rolling the information over and over in his head. He couldn't judge, not really. Not after he'd dreamed Prokopenko back to life, though this sounded different. It was still similar enough, close to the same thing in essence.

Glancing over his shoulder instinctively, he eyed the pool table for a moment before shrugging and returning his attention to the other boy.]

I'm decent enough.

[Sliding off the table again, he wiggled his toes in the rug, head tilted to the side. He didn't know what sort of expectations he'd had about this encounter, but- the lack of threats was refreshing, really.]

Don't I know it.

[Being a dreamer was super fucking dangerous sometimes. People either wanted you dead or wanted to exploit you. Or both, sometimes.

He hesitated for a moment, pushing his fingers through his hair in an attempt to comb it back from his face.]

He matters to me, too. If that's what you're worried about.

[smiledevilish]

[It wasn't quite so simple; but in his defense he'd been a child when he'd done it. He'd been all alone and he'd been lonely, and he hadn't known what was more terrifying- reality, or his dreams. So he'd asked for a friend. Who he'd been asking, he hadn't really considered back then. Especially not when there was this gorgeous boy about his age that walked in his dreams with him, fought his nightmares.

He hadn't thought to ask him what things were like for him when he was awake. He'd thought that he was like the trees and the strange lights, and the other fantastical things that lived in his dreams. And then he'd started high school at Kingswood, only to see the beautiful boy he'd thought only lived in his dreams laughing wickedly with an arm tossed over someone else's shoulder. And he'd been jealous, then.

Things between them were more complicated, but his feelings were simpler -- he just wanted Elijah to laugh like that again.]

I'm not worried. I just-- I want someone that makes him happy, and it seems like you do. And I know it's easy to feel like you're all alone when you're a dreamer, so... Fuck. Look, I suck at this sappy shit, but if you ever need help you have it.

[He shrugs his shoulders, fidgets with his hands, his smile slipping from devilish and charming to something more self-conscious as he moves so that he's a little closer to Kavinsky, so that he can lean against the edge of the pool table. He tilts his head back, trying to order his words, make sense of what he's trying to say.]

I loved him once- Elijah. But I'm not good... [Enough.]

Look, so everything went to shit. Someone died. And I just want him to be happy this time. I just wanted to say that if you ever think you're in over your head, you don't have to be.

[Dimitri was good at dreaming, more or less, depending on the day and his mood. He could also be a pretty good thug. And he just didn't want this to be like Aidan, too fucking stubborn to admit that he needed the help because Dimitri was the one offering it. He wanted to try.]

[burnyoudown]

[Kavinsky could count on both hands the number of times in his life someone had come to him offering to be there for him if he needed someone. It was enough to make him a little emotional, and normally he was good at hiding it--this wasn't normally. He was still raw and tired and it felt like it took too much effort to put up his usual walls.]

I appreciate it, man.

[He swallowed down the words are you sure you don't still love him? because asking at this point right now would have felt cruel. Kavinsky usually never shied away from being cruel but- he didn't want to push someone away when he was on the cusp of making friends.]

I know what that feels like. Everything's gone to shit a few times in my life.

[He'd nearly died because of a boy, been saved by another boy, had his best friend die a handful of months ago (and then dreamt him back to life). Things were quite well and good fucked. And yet- he felt like he had hope, a second chance. Ronan didn't hate him, Elijah loved him.]

I want to live for him. I want to be good for him. I'm not sure I'm who he deserves, but-

[He sucked in a breath, pressing the heel of one palm to his eye.

He didn't finish. Instead, he shrugged helplessly.]

[smiledevilish]

[When Kavinsky said that he appreciated it, seeming to mean it without being sly or cruel about it, Dimitri sighed, a little bit emotional himself. Because people didn't often take him at face value, didn't typically believe that he could offer something like this without getting something out of it, didn't see how much he ached for kinship and acceptance and something as simple as friendship. Once, he'd had Elijah, but now...

Of course he still loved Elijah.

He'd dreamt him as a child, and he'd always seemed perfect. He still was. What he really meant was that he didn't have any intention of trying to cut into what Kavinsky and Elijah had together. He could love him and be his friend, could love him and be there for the both of them. Before anything else, Elijah had been his best-friend when he was all alone. For Dimitri that felt bigger than wanting to date him.

He wanted to say something encouraging, something insightful, but all he really had to offer was understanding.]

I mean, I think that's what matters. Being willing to try. Cause- fuck- I know it can be hard. Deciding that you still want to live even after everything falls apart.

[His voice is quiet, a little bit choked up, and he looks up at the ceiling, shrugging his shoulders like it's not a big deal. Like he's not saying I know what it's like to feel like dying: but he is. And he's here; both of them chose to stay alive, one way or another. In Dimitri's case it still feels like a thing he makes his way through one day at a time.

He doesn't say that part outloud, but it's still there.]

[burnyoudown]

[He smiled and it was a little watery around the edges, a little obviously emotional. Leaning over, he bumped his shoulder against Dimitri's, friendly, understanding. He was sorry the other boy knew what it was like, how hard it could be to decide you wanted to live after everything went up in flames. He was a little grateful for it too, at the same time. That probably made him selfish or some kind of asshole, but what else was new?]

So, what're you living for? What stirs your heart?

[It was probably a deeply personal question, but he wouldn't be Kavinsky if he didn't ask those sorts of questions.]

It's alright to tell me to fuck off, too.

[smiledevilish]

[Dmitri returned the gesture, so they ended up leaning in, shoulder to shoulder, a quiet sort of intimacy, silent understanding. The Kavinsky asks him what he's living for, and he tilts his head back, looking at the ceiling of the dreamspace that they're in.]

Nah, it's alright. It's just -- it wasn't easy, obviously.

[He laughs a little, but it's wry more than anything. And if being glad that someone else knew what it was like to hate everything that staying in the world felt unbearable, well- then he was an asshole too. Of course, much like Kavinsky, he usually got the moniker anyway.]

It wasn't anything grand like that. When everything went to shit, one of my friends got me drunk and high and took me to see a movie. Which I admittedly spent most of with my head in his lap, but it was cool enough I wanted to watch it again. I wanted to- do that again. There's a painting I wanted to finish. One of my other friends wanted us all to roadtrip cross country and drive down to Cancun for his birthday, get a beachhouse for a week or until we all get sick of each other and I decided I wanted to be around for that, 'cause no one else would know how to bake the cake.

[He shrugs his shoulders, trying to find the words, stumbling as he tries to explain how he managed to keep breathing.]

At first it was just- stupid shit like that. Saying I wanted to be alive for another week or a month or until the summer or whatever. Now... well, I have my friends. And we go on dates sometimes. And I have a little sister, and I can't think of anything worse than leaving her alone with my mom. So I manage.

[It feels sad and small, and like it isn't quite enough, which it isn't, but it's honest. These days most of the time he didn't feel like he wanted to die, he just- got a little tired of being alive. But he was trying. And like he said: he thought that was what was important.]

[burnyoudown]

[He bit his tongue, held back from asking if there was an innuendo in there. He didn't really care; it wasn't any of his business. He didn't want to come across like the asshole he was and risk pushing this boy away when he had so few people in his life who were willing to be there for him.]

Those are good reasons. I don't think there's a reason to want to stay alive that's stupid or bad.

[Sometimes, Kavinsky'd wondered what it'd be like to have siblings, but he wouldn't wish his parents on anyone. Any siblings of his would've been just as fucked up as he was, probably. No one deserved that.]

You know this goes both ways, right? If you- if you need someone to talk to, any time, you can come to me. I'm a good listener, promise.

[Which might surprise some people, but- Kavinsky might not have been the best with words all of the time, but he could lend an ear and a shoulder to cry on. He could be supportive. God knew he was aware of how fucking lonely and messed up the world could be. He wanted to be able to be there for his friends, for the people who mattered in his life. Maybe because no one had ever been there for him before he'd met them. He'd spent so much of his life being lonely.]