I figured I would organize a masterlist of my writing so it’s easier to find. I mainly write for Kurapika. I do write for other characters once in awhile but I haven’t uploaded my writing for them on tumblr yet.
Kurapika
Lonely Birthday (fluff,angst,horny)
I Hope I Can Keep You Warm (trauma,nudity,fluff)
I Hope I Can Keep You Warm Pt2 (smut)
Jealousy (gender neutral reader,angst,fluff)
Kurta Valentines Day (Fluff)
Baking Gone Wrong (Mild smut?)
Promises (fluff,birthday special)
Moonlight (stargazing,fluff)
Honey Whiskey (drinking,fluff)
Wam Bath (comfort,smut)
Lover, You Should’ve Come Over (angst,comfort)
Rainy Day (fluff)
Art Gallery (fluff,unspoken feelings)
Moonlight Sonata (8 part long music teacher AU, fluff, little bit of angst)
(no this is not smut. For now at least. there is some nice wholesome fluff to make up for the angst. word count- 2,982)
Panting breaths, echoing footsteps, and the sound of snow underneath your boots crunching underneath you reverberate through the crisp night air uninterrupted. Your mind is racing with panic while your body is filled with adrenaline. One thing you know for certain is- you were beginning to regret your decision to help Kurapika with this dangerous mission.
“I’m surprised you even asked me to meet you here,” You sit across from Kurapika in a small, dimly lit cafe, “When’s the last time we’ve seen each other in person.”
Kurapika leads you through the lively crowd of the Yorknew City art gallery, his hand wrapped securely around yours. The individuals surrounding you are dressed lavishly; some holding champagne flutes and mingling, while others are admiring the artwork. The building itself is extravagant, complete with polished marble floors and a grand chandelier hanging in the center of the room.
Saying you feel out of place would be a hideous understatement.
The black dress clinging to your body feels wrong. Tight, uncomfortable, and suffocating even. Like a damn straitjacket, you had mused darkly to yourself earlier. A stylish one, at the very least. The earrings dangling from your ears are too long, too heavy, and the heels... Well, you're still trying to survive them.
Regardless, Kurapika rarely asks for favors, so you agreed without thinking twice about it. The useless chatter around you sounds muffled in your ears until the blonde man's voice breaks through, snapping you back to reality.
Leaning in close to your ear, he speaks quietly, "Remember, we're here for information first. Focus on gathering intel and watching for anything suspicious."
The last thing he wants is for this situation to spiral out of control, though, at the moment, there's no one he trusts more than you.
"No need to worry, Kurapika. I know what we're here for," You reply with a calm smile, seemingly at ease as you scan the crowd. Truthfully, you're now on high alert, carefully observing each individual's behavior and snippets of conversation.
You slip away from Kurapika to engage in small talk with some of the guests. He watches as you walk off before shifting his attention back to the main target. He has full faith in your abilities, however, that doesn't stop him from worrying. Especially considering your innate talent for finding trouble.
Walking elegantly toward a small group admiring an abstract painting, you join their conversation seamlessly. The canvas is large and imposing; hues of red and black swirling together in an almost chaotic harmony.
"Quite the piece, isn't it?" You comment nonchalantly to a middle-aged man nearby, "The artist's use of color is... Intense."
The man gives a hearty laugh, "Ah, you have quite the eye for art, miss," He responds, turning to face you. He doesn't bother to hide the way he lecherously looks you over, a crooked smirk gracing his lips, "You're certainly not just a pretty face."
Smiling sweetly, you maintain your polite demeanor, "That's very kind of you. Do you come to these events often? I'm quite new and would love to learn more."
"Oh, I'm a regular here," He says with smug pride, clearly pleased with your interest in him, "I know everything about this place."
You study him carefully, analyzing every detail of his response and behavior. His body language is relaxed and he doesn't appear to be hiding anything. For once, it seems like luck is on your side; you've found an open book of information right off the bat.
"Oh really?" You reply with feigned awe in your voice, "I would love to hear more. These events seem so fascinating."
He leans in far too close, a sly grin on his face, "Well, there's always some under-the-table dealings going on during these affairs."
"How intriguing," You say with a playful tilt of your head while resisting the urge to step away, "And here I thought it was all about appreciating beautiful artwork."
Right as he opens his mouth to speak, a group of rowdy men make their way over. They greet him with loud laughter and friendly slaps on the back.
"Well now, who's this lovely lady you've got with you?" One of them jeers playfully at you.
"Pleasure to meet you," You greet with a nod and a forced smile, your annoyance only visible in the slight narrowing of your eyes.
'Perfect timing for these idiots to interrupt us... I could just rip out their tongues right now if it wouldn't blow our cover,' You complain to yourself inwardly, cursing your rotten luck.
Trying to get back on track, you continue smoothly, "You were saying something about the deals...?"
The main man lets out a chuckle, patting you on the shoulder dismissively, "Awe, lighten up a bit, sweetheart."
One of his friends moves closer to you, wearing an unsettling grin, "You know what they say about beautiful women and dangerous secrets..."
You blink in surprise, your brows subtly knitting together in confusion, "Beautiful?"
His comment throws you off for an instant. You've never really seen yourself that way; certainly not unattractive, but nothing remarkable either. Just... Average.
Their obnoxious laughter fills the air as they raise their glasses in a toast, "Look at that! Our lady here is modest!" The main man exclaims.
"Or simply playing coy," Another adds with an impish smirk.
A bald man with tired eyes raises an eyebrow at you thoughtfully, "Can't blame us for appreciating beauty when we see it."
No matter how hard Kurapika tries to stay focused on the task at hand, he finds his eyes drifting back to you, drawn like metal to a magnet. It’s almost maddening how impossible it is to look away. And seeing you surrounded by that group of strange men does little to alleviate his concerns, his protective instincts flaring up involuntarily. A sense of unease claws at him; not only at the attention you're receiving, but also at how jealous he feels over it.
Heaving a frustrated sigh, Kurapika tears his gaze away from you, "Get it together," He mutters under his breath, berating himself for letting unnecessary emotions cloud his judgment.
Taking deliberate steps in the opposite direction, he attempts to put some physical, and mental, distance between you and him. However, his momentary reprieve shatters abruptly by an obnoxiously loud laugh echoing throughout the gallery.
Then he hears it.
One of the men leering at you slurs out a line so vulgar it makes his blood run cold, "Your dress is lovely," The man drawls out, "But I bet you'd look even better out of it."
A lethal amount of rage overtakes Kurapika at the man's audacity, his eyes burning scarlet beneath his contact lenses. Without hesitation, he shoves through the crowd with an alarming speed, any rational thoughts replaced by raw emotion. His mind is consumed with all the brutal ways he could end this filth right here and now for daring to insult you.
In a swift, fluid motion, Kurapika swoops in and loops an arm around your waist. Through gritted teeth and a strained smile plastered on his face, he speaks, "Gentlemen, this is my partner for the evening. It would be wise not to disrespect her again," The threat hangs heavily in the air like a sharp blade ready to strike.
The sudden contact catches you off guard, but you recover quickly, adopting a sweet smile and leaning into his touch, "Oh, darling, you're such a gentleman," You purr affectionately as you play along with his ruse.
Your words manage to temper the raging storm within him, calming him slightly as he responds, "Only for you, my dear."
The lewd man's smirk falters, replaced by a sour scowl, "Well, aren't you two lovebirds cute," He spits out, making no effort to hide his irritation.
Kurapika's eyes flash with barely restrained fury as his fingers press just a little tighter into your side, "Careful with your words," He bites back sharply, "They might just be your last."
It’s no longer a warning. It’s a promise.
The man scoffs, clearly rattled but trying not to show it. With a muttered curse under his breath, he turns and stalks off, his ego bruised. His friends, on the other hand, look more entertained than offended. They chuckle and raise their glasses in a mock toast to you and Kurapika.
Without sparing them another glance, Kurapika tightens his hold on you and guides you away from the crude group. He moves smoothly among the crowd, his mind still reeling from the situation.
"A bit harsh on the warning there," You remark lightly once you're out of earshot, "But thanks for stepping in."
The Kurta's shoulders relax slightly at your words, "It was necessary. I'm just glad you're alright."
"I can handle myself, you know," You tease, hoping to lighten the mood, "But it is nice to have backup."
"I know," He murmurs, his gaze meeting yours. He takes your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as you continue to move forward, "It's nice having you around too."
"So much for staying under the radar," You mutter dryly, noting the curious stares now following your every move.
"Unfortunately," Kurapika agrees with a small sigh. His expression softens as he leans in closer to you. His breath is warm against your ear as he whispers, "Blending in was never an option. You stand out, whether you mean to or not."
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If you could take a moment to read our story, consider donating, or simply share our campaign with others, it would make an incredible difference. Every act of kindness, no matter how small, brings us one step closer to safety and a new beginning. 🙏
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Help out if you can!!!!💞💞💞 Hoping for the best for you!!
(Word count: 1,633) (I wrote this a awhile ago on a rainy day and forgot about it lol)
Standing near the exit of the Hunter Association building, you glance up at the sky visible through the window. The rain is pouring down, drenching everything and everyone unlucky enough to be caught outside without an umbrella.
"Damn... I can't believe I forgot my umbrella," You complain, frustration evident on your face as you watch people scurry by in their attempts to stay dry, "At this rate, it doesn't look like it's going to let up anytime soon."
You let out a sigh as you lean against the glass, "Should I just... make a run for it?" You wonder to yourself. Your apartment is only a couple of blocks away, not too far from here.
You pull your jacket up over your head to cover yourself from the rain. Reaching out for the door handle, you're about to push it open when a familiar voice calls out from behind.
"(Y/N)!" His voice echoes through the near-empty hall of the building.
Your hand freezes on the handle, head turning at the sound of a familiar voice. Your eyes meet Kurapika's and you raise an eyebrow in surprise, "Kurapika?"
"(Y/N)," Kurapika starts, his brow furrowing, "Were you planning to just walk out into that downpour without an umbrella?" He questions incredulously, making no attempt to hide his exasperation.
Seeing you prepared to run out into the storm unshielded fills him with concern. He's always known you to be reckless, diving headfirst into dangerous situations without much thought for your own wellbeing.
"It's not just a drizzle outside," He reprimands sternly as he crosses his arms over his chest.
An irritated sigh escapes your lips, your grip tightening on the door handle, "Yes I was," You retort stubbornly, shooting him a defiant look, "It's not like I have much choice now, do I?"
Ever since your heated argument with him a few days ago, your interactions have become like this. A constant back and forth, an unending tug-of-war of words filled with tension and stubbornness. The disagreement was long forgotten but the hostility still lingers. Every conversation seems to turn into a battle of wills where neither of you want to give in or admit fault.
"There are always choices, (Y/N)," He counters as he steps closer, the distance between you and him now significantly reduced, "It wouldn't kill you to consider your own safety for once."
You bristle at his words, your eyes flashing with indignation, "I'm not some helpless kid, Kurapika."
"I never said you were," Kurapika shoots back, his tone stubbornly calm, "But acting recklessly won't get you anywhere either."
"This conversation is pointless," You snap at him as you turn to leave again, pushing against the door.
Before you can take another step, Kurapika reaches out, his hand wrapping around your wrist in a firm yet gentle grip. The metal chains dangling from his hand clink softly with the sudden movement, echoing through the quiet hallway. His touch startles you and you freeze mid-step, looking back at him over your shoulder with an expression of surprise and mild annoyance.
He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, struggling to form a coherent thought. He wants to say something - anything that can wipe that annoyed expression off your face, but he's at loss for words; a rare occurrence for someone as articulate as him.
Finally, he clears his throat and speaks up, "I have an umbrella," He states matter-of-factly as if that should be obvious by now. A small beat of silence follows, though he presses on, "And I don't mind walking you home."
You stare at him for a moment, caught off guard by his response. The rain outside seems to fade away into background noise as you try to process what he just said.
"Are you serious?" You ask incredulously, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise, "You're willing to walk me home? In this weather?"
"Yes, I am," The blonde-haired man answers without hesitation. His grip on your wrist loosens, but he doesn't let go completely, "I said it before, didn't I? There are always choices. This is mine."
You blink at him, your irritation momentarily forgotten. His earnest declaration leaves you briefly speechless, "Fine," You finally grumble, averting your gaze from his, "If you insist..."
"Good," He states, releasing his grip on your wrist. His gaze lingers on you for a second longer, then he strides over to retrieve his umbrella from the stand near the door, "Shall we?" He prompts, offering you a small, rare smile.
When you nod in response, you and him walk together toward the exit.
Once outside, he opens his umbrella with a swift movement and holds it high above both of you, protecting you from the steady downpour. The raindrops patter against the fabric, creating a soothing rhythm as you start your journey home through the rainy streets.
The silence between you two is thick and tangible, blanketing the air as you walk. Under normal circumstances, Kurapika doesn't mind quiet moments like these. In fact, he would usually welcome them. But with you...
He glances at you, taking in your side profile under the dim streetlights. The rain continues its steady rhythm on his umbrella, but it does little to ease the awkward tension.
As the silence drags on, his mind swirls with thoughts. Should he apologize again? He had already said sorry after the argument, but clearly, things still aren't right between the two of you.
Out of the corner of his eye, Kurapika spots a car driving past. Without missing a beat, he subtly switches positions with you to stand on the side closer to the street. The action is instinctive and protective, saving you from a potential splash of water as the vehicle speeds by. It's a small gesture but one that speaks volumes about how much he cares for you.
"Thanks," You mutter quietly, your gaze remaining fixed on the sidewalk ahead.
"No need to thank me," Kurapika replies easily.
With another extended stretch of quiet, the tension becomes unbearable for Kurapika. He sighs heavily, releasing a breath he didn't even know he was holding.
"(Y/N)," His voice carries a tone of sincerity and regret that's hard to ignore, "I'm sorry... Again."
You remain silent for a beat before finally letting out a sigh of defeat, "I... I'm sorry too," You admit begrudgingly.
Kurapika can't help but feel a sense of relief wash over him, "I'm glad to hear that."
"Guess we're both too stubborn for our own good," You quip with a faint smirk.
A small, wry smile tugs at the corners of Kurapika's lips, "I suppose we are."
For a moment, both of you simply stand there under the umbrella, caught in your shared understanding.
As you and Kurapika continue your journey, the atmosphere lightens considerably. The rain lessens to a soft drizzle, and the gentle sound of it hitting the umbrella is calming, almost soothing.
Your conversation flows easily now, filled with casual banter and shared laughter. By the time you approach your apartment building, you and him are smiling despite the dreary weather.
As you reach the entrance, Kurapika lifts the umbrella away from him, shaking off the residual raindrops and closing it with hastily. Tucking the now-closed umbrella under his arm, you both enter through the revolving doors into the lobby, effectively saving yourselves from the bad weather outside.
"Thanks for walking me home," You say sincerely, "I appreciate it."
A light blush creeps up his cheeks, but Kurapika manages to maintain his composed demeanor, "It was the least I could do."
Just as you're about to bid him goodnight and head upstairs, you notice something. His whole shoulder on the side facing the rain is drenched. It takes you a moment to realize that he must've held the umbrella more over you, not caring if he himself got wet.
The realization stops you in your tracks and you're at a loss for words.
"You..." You start, shaking your head slightly, "You're such a hypocrite," You complain but there's no heat to your words. If anything, they're filled with fondness.
A soft chuckle escapes him as he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, "Perhaps," He admits with a slight shrug, "But it was worth keeping you dry."
You roll your eyes, a small smile dancing on your lips, "You're hopeless," You reply, shaking your head in amusement. But then you hesitate, finally sighing and gesturing to the elevators, " Come on. You can dry off upstairs."
A look of surprise crosses Kurapika's face at your invitation, however it quickly shifts into a grateful smile, "Thank you," He says genuinely as he follows your lead.
You and him make your way upstairs in comfortable silence. Upon entering your apartment, you quickly disappear into the bathroom and return with a towel. Before Kurapika has a chance to react or protest, you're already patting down his soaked shoulder. Your actions are firm yet tender, an unspoken gesture of care that leaves him momentarily speechless.
He watches you in a stunned silence, his heart beating slightly faster at the unexpected contact. Kurapika swallows hard, feeling warmth spread through him at your actions.
"Thanks," He repeats once again, this time more softly.
"Just take care of yourself, okay?" You respond, shooting him a stern look. Withdrawing the towel, you fold it neatly and place it on the back of the couch. As you move past him toward the kitchen, you wonder, "Do you want something warm to drink?"
"Some tea would be nice."
The evening winds down with the both of you settled comfortably on your couch, a movie playing softly in the background. You're seated close enough for your shoulders to brush occasionally, an intimacy neither of you seem to mind.
As the movie plays on, you gradually lean closer him until your head rests comfortably on his shoulder. Kurapika sips his tea quietly as he watches the screen, all while being acutely aware of you nestled against him. It's not how he expected tonight to end in the slightest. Not that he has any reason to complain.
Not Kurapika related but idc bc I'm so proud of this part. artwork done by @/raisinripe (word count: 2,336)
"Well..." Dusk starts, forcing an optimistic tone despite his defensive posture, "It's not your birthday anymore so you can't be mad," She holds out the gift, her gesture clear and earnest.
The package is simple but thoughtful, wrapped in dark blue paper with black satin ribbons twirled around it. For a moment, Xavia can only stare at the box, his mind going blank as he processes her words. A gift? For his birthday?
A wave of irritation surges within him and he scoffs in disbelief, "I don't need it," He grumbles stubbornly, backing away from her offering. He folds his arms tighter across his chest and glares at Dusk defiantly, "My birthday isn't fucking important."
Dusk huffs in frustration, refusing to take back the gift, "Too bad," She shoots back unflinchingly, her freckled face set in a determined frown, "Your birthday is important because you were born on it. And I'm glad you were."
Her declaration lingers heavily between them, a rare moment of unfiltered honesty amidst their usual banter that catches Xavia off guard. He looks at her in disbelief, his rugged features softening slightly under the sincerity of her gaze.
"Yeah, well," He finally manages to reply, his tone bitter and defensive as he averts his gaze, "Most people aren't."
Dusk chooses not to press him about his self-deprecating remark. Instead, she lets out a light chuckle, her mismatched eyes sparkling under the moonlight.
"Most people aren't me," She retorts playfully, her voice dropping to a more serious tone afterward, "And anyone who doesn't realize how important you are is an idiot."
Xavia's eyes flick back to her, stunned by her words. Her relentless optimism and kindness are disconcerting. It makes him uncomfortable in a way he can't quite describe.
"Fine," He concedes begrudgingly, snatching the gift from her hands without another word.
A relieved smile spreads across Dusk's face, "Thank you," She says softly, "And... I'm sorry," She adds after a moment of silence, her gaze lowering to the deck in embarrassment, "For pushing so hard earlier."
Xavia grunts noncommittally. He doesn't like apologies; they make him feel awkward and unsettled, "Just forget about it," He mutters, "It's not your fault."
She takes a deep breath, gathering her thoughts, then meets his gaze again, "Look, Xav, I know it probably doesn't mean much... But you can always talk to me," She pauses for a moment, then confidently adds, "I'll always be there for you. We're partners in crime."
Her support resonates with him in a way he hadn't expected. He scoffs lightly, shaking his head at her.
"Are you an idiot?" The question falls from his lips before he can stop himself, "Why the hell would that not mean much? You're... You're..." He trails off and clears his throat awkwardly, finally managing to grumble out, "You're my partner."
What Xavia had been on the verge of saying is that Dusk isn't just his partner. She is, in this moment, the most important person in his life. But acknowledging that fact out loud makes him feel vulnerable, a feeling he despises.
Dusk laughs lightly at his awkwardness, her heart fluttering with warmth, "I guess I am an idiot," She replies lightheartedly, "But at least I'm your idiot partner."
There's something about the way she stands under the moonlight, surrounded by water and with a gentle breeze tugging at her hair that Xavia finds breathtaking. He can't quite put his finger on it but he can't help but stare. The sight of Dusk like this is captivating, an ethereal presence that draws him in.
And yet, so often when they're together and Dusk turns to him with those warm, sincere eyes of hers, he finds himself unable to meet her gaze directly. It feels too intimate, as if looking into those mismatched eyes will reveal everything he's trying hard to keep hidden within himself.
Tonight is no different. He takes a deep, steadying breath, reluctantly lifts his hand, and points to the harsh scar that mars his cheek.
He watches her as her expression shifts, the joviality fading away to be replaced by a look of deep curiosity. She focuses on his scar and he feels an odd sort of satisfaction at having captured her attention so completely.
"This," He starts, hesitating for a brief moment before forcing himself to continue, "I got this scar on my 8th birthday."
Dusk's eyes widen at his confession, a sharp pang of sympathy striking her, "Xav..." She begins softly, struggling to find the right words. She hesitantly reaches out to touch the scar on his cheek.
Xavia tenses as her hand approaches. His eyes follow her movement, widening slightly when he realizes her intent. A mix of anticipation and apprehension fills him, an odd sensation that causes his breath to catch.
But then she hesitates, pulling back, uncertain if she should intrude, and leaving him gazing after her withdrawing hand with a sense of loss he can't fully comprehend. He swallows hard, trying to push past the lump forming in his throat.
Before he realizes what he's doing, Xavia reaches out and grabs her wrist. His fingers wrap around it, halting her from pulling away completely. He's not entirely sure why he did that, his body reacting on instinct while his mind is still trying to catch up.
"I..." He starts and then stops again, lost for words. He stammers as he struggles to find something - anything - appropriate to say.
Dusk freezes, surprise flashing across her face. She observes his struggle, a mix of concern and fondness washing over her, "Xav, it's okay," She reassures him, "You don't have to say anything."
The admission tumbles out of his mouth before he can stop it, "Yeah... Yeah, I do."
For once in his wretched life, Xavia finds himself desperately wanting to share; to unload the burden that has been weighing him down for far too long.
He carefully guides her hand to his scarred cheek, holding it there as a tangible connection between them. His cheeks flush with an emotion he doesn't fully understand and he quickly looks away from her penetrating gaze.
"It's from a sword," He manages after what feels like an eternity, "I misstepped during training and my father cut me," The confession is painful but liberating in a way Xavia hadn't expected, "It was an accident... But he didn't give a shit."
Dusk's expression shifts to one of realization as the pieces of a puzzle she didn't realize existed begin to fit together. The hallucinations he had spoken about during his hospital stay, his vehement hatred of swordplay... It all suddenly makes sense.
"You deserved better," She whispers hoarsely, a tinge of sorrow lacing her tone as she gently brushes her thumb against his scar.
His breath hitches at the sensation, a shiver running down his spine at the intimate gesture. It's not unpleasant, quite the opposite, in fact.
"No..." He shakes his head, voice rough with anguish, "I deserved exactly what I got," He adds, his words bitter and filled with self-loathing.
Her heart aches at his response, "No, Xav," She counters firmly, "Nobody deserves that kind of cruelty. Especially not you."
Xavia is ensnared by her gaze; there's a determination there, an unwavering belief that shakes him to his core.
"I..." He falters again. He wants to argue, but the retort dies on his lips. For some reason, he can't bring himself to counter her conviction.
Instead, he stays silent; adrift in the stormy sea of emotions swirling within him.
Her expression softens, yet her resolve remains unyielding, "You don't have to bear all your burdens alone, Xav," She reminds him gently, as she has before, "Your burdens are mine too... Because we're partners."
His grip tightens around her wrist, his face contorting in a grimace, "That's the fucking problem, Dusk!" He blurts out harshly, startling even himself with his abrupt outburst, "You... You don't deserve to be dragged down by the likes of me!"
The regret is instantaneous and powerful, like a punch to his gut. He didn't mean to say that. It was supposed to stay buried deep inside him. The silence that follows is suffocating and Xavia wishes he could take it all back.
Hurt flashes through her eyes at his words, but she doesn't pull away, "You're not dragging me down, Xav," Dusk counters emphatically, "You could never drag me down because I want to stand by your side."
A whirlwind of turmoil threatens to consume him. The fact that she believes so strongly in him... It's something he has trouble comprehending.
"Dusk..." Her name falls from his lips in a whisper that's barely audible over the sound of crashing waves nearby, his grip on her wrist finally slackening.
He looks away from her piercing gaze, too afraid that if he keeps looking into those eyes filled with kindness and conviction, he might actually start believing in himself.
Ignoring his resistance, she gently turns his face back toward her with a soft tug, her fingers warm against the rough texture of the scar on his cheek, "Xav," She murmurs softly, "Please... Just let me in."
A shiver runs through Xavia at her soft plea. It's a vulnerability he isn't used to, one that scares the hell out of him.
"Dammit, Dusk," His voice cracks, filled with an indecipherable mix of fear and yearning.
He takes a shaky exhale then, her touch and voice overwhelming him. The way she looks at him... It's like she sees someone worth fighting for.
He's always avoided letting people in because he knows, from cruel experience, that trust is a dangerous thing. The more someone knows about you, the easier it is for them to hurt you; intentionally or otherwise.
He's no exception to his own rule. Xavia sees himself as a failure, not just because of the abandonment by his father but also due to the decisions he's made in life; stealing, lying, even killing. He wears these sins like a second skin.
To him, it's clear that he isn't a good person. He does what needs to be done without flinching and doesn't lose sleep over the consequences. A man with such darkness within him shouldn't even be around someone as bright and kindhearted as Dusk.
He knows Dusk works the same job, takes the same risks. She's no stranger to breaking laws and crossing lines. But there's a stark difference between them that he can't overlook - she actually feels regret. She cares for people in ways he never understands or has the capacity to do himself. He's seen her go out of her way to avoid killing, even if it makes their mission more difficult.
Despite his mixed feelings, Xavia finds himself unable to deny her request. The gentleness in her eyes is a contrast to the harshness of the world he knows. Her persistent patience and understanding toward him, even after all the bitterness and resentment he has shown her, is something he can't overlook. Her faith in him gives him hope, an alien feeling but one that makes him wonder if he can become someone worthy of the implicit trust she places in him.
Even if it means exposing his vulnerabilities, scars that run deeper than the visible ones, he owes her this much at least. He decides to cave in and take the leap of faith she's been asking for. His hand trembling slightly, he reaches up to place it over her own on his cheek.
"Alright, alright," He concedes softly, his walls crumbling down, "I'll try."
It's not easy for him. This admission feels like handing over a loaded gun. But it's Dusk... If there's anyone who can handle him with care and understanding, even at his worst, it's her.
A sigh of relief escapes her lips, "That's all I'm asking for... Thank you, Xav," She breathes out quietly, "I'm here for you. Always."
As her words sink in, Xavia feels a strange warmth spread through him. He's not used to this... This feeling of being cared for so deeply by someone other than his mother.
He watches as she smiles at him, an expression full of nothing but genuine care and relief, and he realizes that he doesn't want to lose it. Doesn't want to lose her.
"Yeah..." He mumbles almost inaudibly, swallowing thickly around the lump forming in his throat, "I know."
In the quiet that follows, Dusk simply watches Xavia, her eyes soft with understanding. There's an unspoken agreement between them, a bridge of trust and shared vulnerability they've crossed together.
She spots the unopened gift still held in his free hand. Removing her hand from his face, she playfully nudges him with her elbow to lighten the mood, saying, "Open it."
Inside is an antique brass compass that she found at a thrift store earlier that day; its surface is weathered but still reflects a subtle shine, "To find your way back," Dusk murmurs as he examines the engravings on its lid, her fingers tracing over the etchings.
He stares at the compass in his hand, the cool metal seeping through his skin and resonating deep within him. It feels... Significant somehow. The aged brass gleams under the soft moonlight, a beacon guiding him home.
He watches Dusk's fingers as they trace over the words, her touch anchoring him in the moment.
"Thanks..." His voice is hoarse, laden with emotions. He closes his hand around it as if gripping a lifeline, "And... Not just for the gift," He adds quietly, his words nearly swallowed by the sound of waves lapping against their boat.
"You're welcome, Xav," She responds in a hushed tone, her gaze shifting to the night sky.
With a soft click, Xavia flips open the compass. His eyes widen in surprise as he watches the needle swing wildly for a moment before it settles on pointing north - directly at Dusk.
"Huh," He mumbles under his breath, an amused smirk tugging at the corners of his lips despite himself, "Guess it works."
Not Kurapika related but idc bc I'm so proud of this part. artwork done by @/raisinripe (word count: 2,336)
"Well..." Dusk starts, forcing an optimistic tone despite his defensive posture, "It's not your birthday anymore so you can't be mad," She holds out the gift, her gesture clear and earnest.
The package is simple but thoughtful, wrapped in dark blue paper with black satin ribbons twirled around it. For a moment, Xavia can only stare at the box, his mind going blank as he processes her words. A gift? For his birthday?
A wave of irritation surges within him and he scoffs in disbelief, "I don't need it," He grumbles stubbornly, backing away from her offering. He folds his arms tighter across his chest and glares at Dusk defiantly, "My birthday isn't fucking important."
Dusk huffs in frustration, refusing to take back the gift, "Too bad," She shoots back unflinchingly, her freckled face set in a determined frown, "Your birthday is important because you were born on it. And I'm glad you were."
Her declaration lingers heavily between them, a rare moment of unfiltered honesty amidst their usual banter that catches Xavia off guard. He looks at her in disbelief, his rugged features softening slightly under the sincerity of her gaze.
"Yeah, well," He finally manages to reply, his tone bitter and defensive as he averts his gaze, "Most people aren't."
Dusk chooses not to press him about his self-deprecating remark. Instead, she lets out a light chuckle, her mismatched eyes sparkling under the moonlight.
"Most people aren't me," She retorts playfully, her voice dropping to a more serious tone afterward, "And anyone who doesn't realize how important you are is an idiot."
Xavia's eyes flick back to her, stunned by her words. Her relentless optimism and kindness are disconcerting. It makes him uncomfortable in a way he can't quite describe.
"Fine," He concedes begrudgingly, snatching the gift from her hands without another word.
A relieved smile spreads across Dusk's face, "Thank you," She says softly, "And... I'm sorry," She adds after a moment of silence, her gaze lowering to the deck in embarrassment, "For pushing so hard earlier."
Xavia grunts noncommittally. He doesn't like apologies; they make him feel awkward and unsettled, "Just forget about it," He mutters, "It's not your fault."
She takes a deep breath, gathering her thoughts, then meets his gaze again, "Look, Xav, I know it probably doesn't mean much... But you can always talk to me," She pauses for a moment, then confidently adds, "I'll always be there for you. We're partners in crime."
Her support resonates with him in a way he hadn't expected. He scoffs lightly, shaking his head at her.
"Are you an idiot?" The question falls from his lips before he can stop himself, "Why the hell would that not mean much? You're... You're..." He trails off and clears his throat awkwardly, finally managing to grumble out, "You're my partner."
What Xavia had been on the verge of saying is that Dusk isn't just his partner. She is, in this moment, the most important person in his life. But acknowledging that fact out loud makes him feel vulnerable, a feeling he despises.
Dusk laughs lightly at his awkwardness, her heart fluttering with warmth, "I guess I am an idiot," She replies lightheartedly, "But at least I'm your idiot partner."
There's something about the way she stands under the moonlight, surrounded by water and with a gentle breeze tugging at her hair that Xavia finds breathtaking. He can't quite put his finger on it but he can't help but stare. The sight of Dusk like this is captivating, an ethereal presence that draws him in.
And yet, so often when they're together and Dusk turns to him with those warm, sincere eyes of hers, he finds himself unable to meet her gaze directly. It feels too intimate, as if looking into those mismatched eyes will reveal everything he's trying hard to keep hidden within himself.
Tonight is no different. He takes a deep, steadying breath, reluctantly lifts his hand, and points to the harsh scar that mars his cheek.
He watches her as her expression shifts, the joviality fading away to be replaced by a look of deep curiosity. She focuses on his scar and he feels an odd sort of satisfaction at having captured her attention so completely.
"This," He starts, hesitating for a brief moment before forcing himself to continue, "I got this scar on my 8th birthday."
Dusk's eyes widen at his confession, a sharp pang of sympathy striking her, "Xav..." She begins softly, struggling to find the right words. She hesitantly reaches out to touch the scar on his cheek.
Xavia tenses as her hand approaches. His eyes follow her movement, widening slightly when he realizes her intent. A mix of anticipation and apprehension fills him, an odd sensation that causes his breath to catch.
But then she hesitates, pulling back, uncertain if she should intrude, and leaving him gazing after her withdrawing hand with a sense of loss he can't fully comprehend. He swallows hard, trying to push past the lump forming in his throat.
Before he realizes what he's doing, Xavia reaches out and grabs her wrist. His fingers wrap around it, halting her from pulling away completely. He's not entirely sure why he did that, his body reacting on instinct while his mind is still trying to catch up.
"I..." He starts and then stops again, lost for words. He stammers as he struggles to find something - anything - appropriate to say.
Dusk freezes, surprise flashing across her face. She observes his struggle, a mix of concern and fondness washing over her, "Xav, it's okay," She reassures him, "You don't have to say anything."
The admission tumbles out of his mouth before he can stop it, "Yeah... Yeah, I do."
For once in his wretched life, Xavia finds himself desperately wanting to share; to unload the burden that has been weighing him down for far too long.
He carefully guides her hand to his scarred cheek, holding it there as a tangible connection between them. His cheeks flush with an emotion he doesn't fully understand and he quickly looks away from her penetrating gaze.
"It's from a sword," He manages after what feels like an eternity, "I misstepped during training and my father cut me," The confession is painful but liberating in a way Xavia hadn't expected, "It was an accident... But he didn't give a shit."
Dusk's expression shifts to one of realization as the pieces of a puzzle she didn't realize existed begin to fit together. The hallucinations he had spoken about during his hospital stay, his vehement hatred of swordplay... It all suddenly makes sense.
"You deserved better," She whispers hoarsely, a tinge of sorrow lacing her tone as she gently brushes her thumb against his scar.
His breath hitches at the sensation, a shiver running down his spine at the intimate gesture. It's not unpleasant, quite the opposite, in fact.
"No..." He shakes his head, voice rough with anguish, "I deserved exactly what I got," He adds, his words bitter and filled with self-loathing.
Her heart aches at his response, "No, Xav," She counters firmly, "Nobody deserves that kind of cruelty. Especially not you."
Xavia is ensnared by her gaze; there's a determination there, an unwavering belief that shakes him to his core.
"I..." He falters again. He wants to argue, but the retort dies on his lips. For some reason, he can't bring himself to counter her conviction.
Instead, he stays silent; adrift in the stormy sea of emotions swirling within him.
Her expression softens, yet her resolve remains unyielding, "You don't have to bear all your burdens alone, Xav," She reminds him gently, as she has before, "Your burdens are mine too... Because we're partners."
His grip tightens around her wrist, his face contorting in a grimace, "That's the fucking problem, Dusk!" He blurts out harshly, startling even himself with his abrupt outburst, "You... You don't deserve to be dragged down by the likes of me!"
The regret is instantaneous and powerful, like a punch to his gut. He didn't mean to say that. It was supposed to stay buried deep inside him. The silence that follows is suffocating and Xavia wishes he could take it all back.
Hurt flashes through her eyes at his words, but she doesn't pull away, "You're not dragging me down, Xav," Dusk counters emphatically, "You could never drag me down because I want to stand by your side."
A whirlwind of turmoil threatens to consume him. The fact that she believes so strongly in him... It's something he has trouble comprehending.
"Dusk..." Her name falls from his lips in a whisper that's barely audible over the sound of crashing waves nearby, his grip on her wrist finally slackening.
He looks away from her piercing gaze, too afraid that if he keeps looking into those eyes filled with kindness and conviction, he might actually start believing in himself.
Ignoring his resistance, she gently turns his face back toward her with a soft tug, her fingers warm against the rough texture of the scar on his cheek, "Xav," She murmurs softly, "Please... Just let me in."
A shiver runs through Xavia at her soft plea. It's a vulnerability he isn't used to, one that scares the hell out of him.
"Dammit, Dusk," His voice cracks, filled with an indecipherable mix of fear and yearning.
He takes a shaky exhale then, her touch and voice overwhelming him. The way she looks at him... It's like she sees someone worth fighting for.
He's always avoided letting people in because he knows, from cruel experience, that trust is a dangerous thing. The more someone knows about you, the easier it is for them to hurt you; intentionally or otherwise.
He's no exception to his own rule. Xavia sees himself as a failure, not just because of the abandonment by his father but also due to the decisions he's made in life; stealing, lying, even killing. He wears these sins like a second skin.
To him, it's clear that he isn't a good person. He does what needs to be done without flinching and doesn't lose sleep over the consequences. A man with such darkness within him shouldn't even be around someone as bright and kindhearted as Dusk.
He knows Dusk works the same job, takes the same risks. She's no stranger to breaking laws and crossing lines. But there's a stark difference between them that he can't overlook - she actually feels regret. She cares for people in ways he never understands or has the capacity to do himself. He's seen her go out of her way to avoid killing, even if it makes their mission more difficult.
Despite his mixed feelings, Xavia finds himself unable to deny her request. The gentleness in her eyes is a contrast to the harshness of the world he knows. Her persistent patience and understanding toward him, even after all the bitterness and resentment he has shown her, is something he can't overlook. Her faith in him gives him hope, an alien feeling but one that makes him wonder if he can become someone worthy of the implicit trust she places in him.
Even if it means exposing his vulnerabilities, scars that run deeper than the visible ones, he owes her this much at least. He decides to cave in and take the leap of faith she's been asking for. His hand trembling slightly, he reaches up to place it over her own on his cheek.
"Alright, alright," He concedes softly, his walls crumbling down, "I'll try."
It's not easy for him. This admission feels like handing over a loaded gun. But it's Dusk... If there's anyone who can handle him with care and understanding, even at his worst, it's her.
A sigh of relief escapes her lips, "That's all I'm asking for... Thank you, Xav," She breathes out quietly, "I'm here for you. Always."
As her words sink in, Xavia feels a strange warmth spread through him. He's not used to this... This feeling of being cared for so deeply by someone other than his mother.
He watches as she smiles at him, an expression full of nothing but genuine care and relief, and he realizes that he doesn't want to lose it. Doesn't want to lose her.
"Yeah..." He mumbles almost inaudibly, swallowing thickly around the lump forming in his throat, "I know."
In the quiet that follows, Dusk simply watches Xavia, her eyes soft with understanding. There's an unspoken agreement between them, a bridge of trust and shared vulnerability they've crossed together.
She spots the unopened gift still held in his free hand. Removing her hand from his face, she playfully nudges him with her elbow to lighten the mood, saying, "Open it."
Inside is an antique brass compass that she found at a thrift store earlier that day; its surface is weathered but still reflects a subtle shine, "To find your way back," Dusk murmurs as he examines the engravings on its lid, her fingers tracing over the etchings.
He stares at the compass in his hand, the cool metal seeping through his skin and resonating deep within him. It feels... Significant somehow. The aged brass gleams under the soft moonlight, a beacon guiding him home.
He watches Dusk's fingers as they trace over the words, her touch anchoring him in the moment.
"Thanks..." His voice is hoarse, laden with emotions. He closes his hand around it as if gripping a lifeline, "And... Not just for the gift," He adds quietly, his words nearly swallowed by the sound of waves lapping against their boat.
"You're welcome, Xav," She responds in a hushed tone, her gaze shifting to the night sky.
With a soft click, Xavia flips open the compass. His eyes widen in surprise as he watches the needle swing wildly for a moment before it settles on pointing north - directly at Dusk.
"Huh," He mumbles under his breath, an amused smirk tugging at the corners of his lips despite himself, "Guess it works."
The cityscape of Weston City is bathed in the warm hues of the setting sun, casting long and ominous shadows that dance on the wet pavement.
Xavia Cyprus stands tall, despite his body screaming in pain. He clutches at his wounded shoulder that drips blood onto the asphalt beneath him. It's a deep gash, not fatal by any means but painful enough to warrant concern. His white hair clings to his forehead, slick with sweat, while he pants heavily from exhaustion and effort.
His opponent lays motionless on the ground before him; unconscious or dead, Xavia doesn't care for specifics. All that matters is victory; survival by any means necessary.
Drawing in a ragged breath, he huffs out through gritted teeth. His pain is secondary, the mission always taking precedence. Swaying slightly on unsteady feet, he pushes past his discomfort with grim determination and steels himself for the task at hand.
He makes his way carefully over to where the object of interest lays, an ornate dagger his employer, Aurelius Van Helsing, had tasked him to retrieve from their now incapacitated opponent. Every step causes sharp pain to shoot up his arm, but he bites down hard on his lip and carries on.
Bending down is another ordeal altogether as it feels like gravity itself is against him, pulling at his injured shoulder painfully. However, once he finally manages to get a grip around that damn blade's decorated hilt, relief washes over him.
Xavia grunts, holding the dagger in one hand and his shoulder with the other. He staggers towards the brick wall of the alleyway behind him, the world tilting ominously around him as he moves.
He lets out a pained sigh as his back meets the rough surface of the bricks, feeling their coldness seep through his jacket. He slides down slowly until he's sitting on the wet pavement, grimacing at every jolt of pain that radiates from his wound.
His head falls back against it with a thud and he closes his eyes momentarily in an effort to regather his energy. This isn't Xavia's first brush with danger nor his first time nursing an injury alone in the shadows. Life had dealt him a hand that was never easy.
He learned early on that people often failed you when you needed them most. The world was harsh, and survival meant relying only on yourself. It made him strong, hardened him in ways few could understand.
Sitting there against the cold brick wall of an alleyway, grasping at his bleeding shoulder, it all seems like just another day in his brutal and unyielding life. But he wouldn't have it any other way. This solitude feels familiar, almost comforting.
Xavia tilts his head to gaze up at the sky. The dying light of day paints a breathtaking canvas overhead, vibrant streaks of red, orange, and purple bleeding into each other. A sunset has never looked so beautiful to him before.
The deep purples hold his attention. It's an alluring hue that somehow seems distinct from everything else around him. He can almost forget about the throbbing pain in his shoulder as he loses himself in its depths.
He knows he'll have to call for backup soon enough. But for now, just for a fleeting moment longer, Xavia allows himself to be swallowed by the dimming evening sky above him.
- VAN HELSING ESTATE // JANUARY 16TH -
Xavia finds himself striding down the opulent corridors of Aurelius's mansion, passing by priceless paintings and sculptures along the way. They're absurdly valuable, each piece a testament to its creator's genius and Aurelius's taste for exorbitance.
His steps echo off marble floors under a ceiling adorned with intricate murals; figures from ancient history locked in eternal combat amid sweeping landscapes. It's all disgustingly affluent but, it does give an impression of sophistication, he muses darkly to himself.
He makes his way towards Aurelius' office, a familiar route he has traversed countless times before for mission briefings. His right shoulder still feels stiff from his injury but it's no longer holding him back. It's just another battle scar etched onto his body as a testament to the dangerous life he lives.
As he approaches the heavy wooden doors leading to Aurelius' office, Xavia runs a hand through his slicked-back white hair, preparing himself mentally for whatever challenge awaits him beyond those doors.
No matter how mentally fortified he thought he was, life had a knack for throwing curveballs his way. And today seemed to be no exception.
As the office door creaks open, Xavia's eyes fall on her. An unfamiliar woman stands by Aurelius' desk; tall and poised with a self-assuredness that instantly grates on him. Her long black hair is pulled into a high ponytail with some loose strands framing her face.
Her complexion is fair, dotted with freckles like constellations across the span of her face and neck. One of her eyes is as brown as rich mahogany while the other is... Purple? The same damn hue from that sunset weeks ago that still haunts his thoughts.
The unknown woman wears a violet top with mesh accents and high-waisted jeans, a large bow resting against her shoulder. The weapon looks well-used and loved, like an extension of herself.
He feels an immediate surge of annoyance prickling beneath his skin at the sight of this stranger standing so casually in his employer's office. Yet another unexpected complication he's going to have to deal with now.
His attention drifts to the man sitting behind the desk, the grand patron of Xavia's dangerous escapades - Aurelius Van Helsing. An elderly man with snow-white hair that matches his well-maintained curly mustache.
He's clad in one of those horrendously purple aristocrat vests, complete with an equally obnoxious bow tie. Xavia secretly thinks his outfit looks like it was stolen from the set of some outdated period drama.
"Good afternoon, Xavia!" The elderly gentleman greets him warmly despite the coldness etched onto Xavia's features, "I'm glad you're here! There's someone I'd like you to meet."
Xavia's eyes narrow slightly at the boisterous greeting of his employer. Aurelius is a peculiar man with an infectious enthusiasm that often gets on Xavia's nerves.
"This is your new partner," Aurelius announces as he gestures grandly towards the stranger, grinning from ear to ear like he'd just unveiled a priceless artifact, "Her name is Dusk and she's quite skilled with that bow of hers!"
Dusk responds to the introduction with a subtle smile, her mismatched eyes meeting Xavia's dark brown ones. She gives him a small wave and steps forward, extending her hand towards him.
"It's nice to meet you!" She says, the sincerity in her voice somewhat disarming. Her demeanor contrasts sharply with his own cynicism and it feels like watching daylight clash against midnight.
Ignoring Dusk's extended hand, Xavia turns his attention back towards his employer. He crosses his arms over his chest, an unreadable expression on his face as he speaks.
"Partner?" He questions with a hint of incredulity in his voice, "I don't recall asking for one or needing one," His tone is curt but not entirely disrespectful.
He likes working alone. He doesn't need anyone else to watch his back and certainly not some newbie who will probably get in the way more than anything.
Aurelius laughs at Xavia's reaction, taking it in stride as always, "Ah, don't be so fickle, Xav," He begins lightheartedly, "I'm aware you like working alone but Dusk here is an incredible shot. And we both know you've had a few close calls lately."
He pauses, letting his words sink in before adding with a twinkle in his eye, "Plus, having some company wouldn't hurt now, would it?"
His words leave a bitter taste in Xavia's mouth and he bristles at the reminder of his close calls. He had always managed to get out alive, hadn't he? It's part of the job, high risk for high reward.
"I'm not fickle. I'm practical," Xavia retorts, his eyes darting from Dusk to Aurelius and back again, "I don't need a partner."
His gaze lingers on Dusk for a moment longer before he turns back towards his employer, irritation seeping into his voice.
"Especially one who looks like she's never been out past sunset," The comment is pointedly sharp; Xavia has no qualms about expressing his skepticism.
"And stop calling me Xav," He adds as an afterthought, annoyance flickering in his dark brown eyes.
"Pardon my interruption," A cool voice cuts through the room, distracting Xavia from his heated argument with Aurelius. The speaker is Zane Argyle - Aurelius' ever-present assistant and someone Xavia never lets himself trust too easily.
Zane always maintains an air of mystery around him. His navy-blue hair mirrors his cold eyes that seem to hide a world of secrets behind them. He dresses like an old-time detective, normally wearing crisp dress shirts and dark trench coats.
Xavia has heard whispers about Zane's connections with the underworld, but he'd rather not delve into it unless necessary. He knows better than to meddle with someone who could stab you in the back while shaking your hand.
"But I agree with Aurelius," Zane continues smoothly, meeting Xavia's glare without flinching, "You nearly died during your last job. Some cover wouldn't be a bad thing."
"An unnecessary interruption," He shoots back icily, "The last job had nothing to do with needing backup, and everything to do with lousy intel."
Zane doesn't miss a beat, bowing his head slightly in an apologetic gesture, "My apologies."
"Not accepted," Xavia retorts dismissively, his gaze cutting through the room. He's growing tired of this conversation.
Before Dusk can even open her mouth to speak, he turns sharply towards her with a cynical scowl plastered on his face, "Save it," He warns her before she can utter anything about being capable, reliable, or any other empty promise.
"I don't need some pretty-eyed archer for me to babysit."
Aurelius, despite the jovial facade, has a certain steeliness in his voice when he wants to be taken seriously. He levels a stern gaze at Xavia now, "This is not a request, Xavia. It's an order."
His words echo ominously through the grand room and for once since this conversation started, Xavia feels silenced.
"Dusk will accompany you on your next mission," Aurelius continues with finality that allows no argument.
Xavia clenches his jaw, the muscles in his neck straining against the flush of anger that spreads through him. His dark brown eyes narrow, a silent storm brewing within them as he glares at Aurelius.
"Fine," He spits out finally, the word tasting like poison on his tongue. But he isn't one to defy orders, not when it comes from Aurelius anyway.
Turning abruptly on his heel, Xavia storms towards the exit without sparing Dusk a second glance.
"Xavia!" Zane calls after him, "You need the details for your next mission!"
But Xavia isn't in the mood for more chatter. He flings a hand dismissively over his shoulder as he strides out of the room.
"I'm sure my 'partner' can fill me in... Seeing as she's so capable," He shoots back with an acid laced sarcasm that leaves no doubt about his feelings on this matter.
"Um..." Dusk begins, her voice barely a whisper in the tension-filled room. She wears a nervous smile on her face as she stares after Xavia's retreating figure, "Is he always like that?" Her question hangs in the air, trailing off into an uncertain silence.
Overhearing her comment, the door swings open again and Xavia pokes his head back in. His expression is unreadable but there's a mischievous glint in his eyes, "No. Only when I'm annoyed..." He corrects flatly, "Which is most of the time."
And with that, he disappears again, leaving behind another wave of uncomfortable silence.
The white-haired man sneers to himself as he saunters down the hallway, 'This is so annoying,' He thinks irritably. The faint throbbing at his temples is a testament to how frustrated this whole situation makes him.
"It's as he says, Dusk. Yes, he's always quite grumpy," Aurelius mentions with a lighthearted chuckle once Xavia's out of earshot. The old man doesn't seem to be bothered by his employee's blunt behavior at all, "I'm certain he'll warm up to you in no time."
Zane steps forward, adding onto Aurelius' words with a smirk on his face, one that Dusk finds unsettling for some reason, "Let's hope so. He's pretty stubborn after all... Well, that's our Xav for you."
Dusk chuckles lightly at their comments, brushing a stray strand of dark hair away from her face as she does so.
"Yeah? I've noticed," Her voice holds a hint of amusement mixed with determination which makes her eyes shine brightly, "He's cranky and stubborn but... That won't scare me off."
"That's a great attitude to have!" Aurelius laughs heartily at Dusk's determined declaration, his tone filled with unspoken approval, "I knew I made a good decision in hiring you."
"Thank you, sir!" Dusk's response comes brimming with enthusiasm and a spark of excitement that's hard to ignore. Her gratitude is genuine, adding an innocent charm to her already likable personality.
"Since you're here, Dusk," Zane begins, ignoring Xavia's abrupt departure as he pulls out a manila folder filled with documents and information. He slides it across the desk towards her, "The location is an amusement park in Oceania."
Dusk blinks in surprise at that revelation, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion, "Hmm... Amusement park?" She echoes the words slowly as she opens the folder to skim through its contents, "Sounds fun. What's our target?"
The curiosity is evident on her face, clearly showing that she's never been to one before.
"The target is an ancient mask that's currently being displayed in their haunted house exhibit," Zane explicates, watching as Dusk takes in the information.
Before he can provide further details, Aurelius chimes in cheerfully, "I'm looking forward to adding it to my collection! I've had my eyes on it for quite some time."
Dusk looks up at him with a small laugh escaping her lips, "An ancient mask... In a haunted house exhibit?" She repeats incredulously before her curiosity gets the better of her.
"That's definitely interesting," She concedes with a nod, "If you don't mind me asking, what's so special about it?"
Zane is about to answer Dusk's question when Aurelius beats him to it, "It's an ancient artifact that's rumored to be cursed!" The older man explains animatedly, "I can't wait to get my hands on it!"
"Cursed? Well, that's exciting," Dusk chuckles lightly, although her eyes hold a determined glint. She's eager not to disappoint her employer on her first assignment.
Zane takes this opportunity to cut into the conversation again, "I've arranged train tickets for you and Xavia. You'll leave in a few hours," He says as he reaches into his trench coat pocket, producing a slip of paper which he hands over to Dusk, "It should be a simple mission."
"And don't worry about Xav," Aurelius reassures her with a wide, confident smile, "He'll come around eventually. In fact, I'm certain he'll thank me for this someday."
Dusk turns to look at the closed door where Xavia had made his abrupt exit, her expression thoughtful as she contemplates the older man's words, "I'll do my best."
The train carriage jostles lightly as it chugs along the tracks, the scenery outside a blur of green and gold. Dusk leans against her window seat, her gaze studying Xavia's rigid form seated across from her. He's engrossed in his book, brows furrowed in deep concentration, an image so picturesque that it feels like she's looking at some living painting.
She takes in everything, from his strikingly white hair, gelled back yet playfully rebellious, to the way his black funnel neck jacket hugs and accentuates his toned physique. His almond-brown skin is smooth, save for an intimidating scar marring one cheek.
But despite this rugged exterior, there's an allure about him that she finds captivating, something magnetic about those deep eyes and firm set lips which seem perpetually poised between a smirk and scowl.
He snaps his book shut, looking directly at Dusk. His eyes are intense, holding her with a piercing stare as he warns her sharply, "For the last time... Can you stop staring? It's fucking annoying."
Dusk, startled out of her thoughts by his sudden outburst, blinks a few times and then flashes him a sheepish grin as she leans back in her seat, "Sorry. I was just wondering... Have you been on many jobs like this before?"
With a nonchalant shrug, Xavia turns his gaze back to the pages of his book, replying curtly, "More than I can count."
Nodding, she says politely, "I'm sure you have a lot of experience," She pauses briefly before mumbling, "Guess I'll try not to hold us back then."
"Good idea," Xavia replies dryly, not looking up from his book.
Feeling the conversation turning frigid with each word exchanged, Dusk rolls her eyes and huffs softly. She turns to stare out of the window, watching as night falls outside, "Okay then... Fine."
His words stung more than she'd like to admit. It's clear he sees her as a burden, and his cold demeanor is unsettling. But she won't let it deter her, instead, it fuels her determination to prove him wrong. His respect won't be easy to earn... But somehow, the challenge only makes it seem worthwhile in her eyes.
- DREAMLAND GARDENS // JANUARY 16TH -
Xavia and Dusk arrive at the entrance of Dreamland Gardens, sneaking into the park under the cover of darkness. The once neon lights of the park have long gone dim, the rides having been shut down for the night as an eerie stillness blankets everything around them.
Xavia shoots a severe glare in Dusk's direction, breaking the silence with his gruff voice, "Just stay out here, keep watch, and don't get caught," He instructs her before adding on a final point, "If you see something suspicious or if things go south... Just run."
To him, this is absolutely ridiculous. Why is he even explaining himself to her? She should already know what to do.
"But-" Dusk begins to protest, but is cut short as Xavia vanishes into the gloom of the park. She sighs, watching his retreating figure with a frown before murmuring under her breath, "Always cranky..."
She makes her way around the entrance of the amusement park, her eyes keenly scanning their surroundings. There doesn't seem to be much activity happening which is a good sign... But it also means that she has time to overthink.
Despite trying not to, she finds herself wondering about Xavia, what he's doing at the moment and if he needs help. Part of her wants to rush in after him, but another part argues that maybe this assignment is a test, some sort of trust exercise?
She shakes off these thoughts quickly as they only serve to frustrate her more than she already is.
Opting instead for action, Dusk enhances her sight and scans the area once again. She spots the top of a Ferris wheel looming in the distance and mutters a soft, "Perfect," under breath before setting off towards it.
She quickly scales up the structure until she reaches one of the cabins at its peak. From her elevated perch, she has a clear view over most of Dreamland Gardens, including its haunted house exhibit where Xavia most likely is right now.
If he wants her to keep watch then that's exactly what she'll do. And from up here, nothing will escape her sight.
"I'm not here for your amusement," Kurapika retorts coldly, despite the doubts beginning to cloud his mind, "You've been preying on humans, and as a vampire, I can only assume you're responsible for numerous deaths. And even if that isn't the case... Just by being what you are... It's my duty to eliminate your kind."
She rolls her eyes dramatically at his words, "Oh, the humanity!" She exclaims mockingly before her expression turns serious again, "You know, for someone so intent on killing me, you talk too much."
"Perhaps," He admits, the sharp end of his Judgement chain just inches away from her chest, "But it was necessary to gauge your intentions. Any last words?"
The vampire tilts her head, raising an eyebrow at his question, "Just one. Are you truly okay with killing someone who's innocent?" She pauses for effect before adding in a quiet voice, "...Someone who doesn't even feed on humans?"
His chain wavers slightly at her words, his eyes searching hers for any hint of deceit, "That doesn't change what you are."
"Oh, so it's what I am that bothers you?" She shoots back with a dark chuckle, "Not my alleged crimes but simply the fact that I'm different from you? Interesting."
"It's not about being different," He argues, maintaining a level tone despite the rising tension, "It's about posing a potential threat to humanity."
"And who decides what a 'potential threat' is?" She questions him, her tone laced with curiosity, "You? The ones who have decided to hunt us down just because we're different?"
"No," Kurapika responds, his voice echoing throughout the cabin, "It's decided by those who have suffered at the hands of your kind... And it's carried out by hunters like me."
She lets out a sigh, shaking her head slowly, "How noble of you," She drawls out sarcastically, "But tell me, hunter, do all those who suffer truly seek revenge or is it just people like you?"
"It's not about revenge," His chains tighten around her as he retorts, "It's about justice."
"Justice, revenge... They're just two sides of the same coin," She counters, her voice steady, "But if you truly believe in your cause, then do what you must."
The hunter remains silent for a moment, his resolve wavering slightly as he contemplates her words. He feels torn between his duty and the doubt that has steadily creeped into his mind.
With a deep breath, he finally asks in a quiet voice, "Are you... Truly innocent?"
Her lips curl into a bitter smile at his question, "As innocent as one can be in this cruel world," She answers honestly.
The cityscape of Weston City is bathed in the warm hues of the setting sun, casting long and ominous shadows that dance on the wet pavement.
Xavia Cyprus stands tall, despite his body screaming in pain. He clutches at his wounded shoulder that drips blood onto the asphalt beneath him. It's a deep gash, not fatal by any means but painful enough to warrant concern. His white hair clings to his forehead, slick with sweat, while he pants heavily from exhaustion and effort.
His opponent lays motionless on the ground before him; unconscious or dead, Xavia doesn't care for specifics. All that matters is victory; survival by any means necessary.
Drawing in a ragged breath, he huffs out through gritted teeth. His pain is secondary, the mission always taking precedence. Swaying slightly on unsteady feet, he pushes past his discomfort with grim determination and steels himself for the task at hand.
He makes his way carefully over to where the object of interest lays, an ornate dagger his employer, Aurelius Van Helsing, had tasked him to retrieve from their now incapacitated opponent. Every step causes sharp pain to shoot up his arm, but he bites down hard on his lip and carries on.
Bending down is another ordeal altogether as it feels like gravity itself is against him, pulling at his injured shoulder painfully. However, once he finally manages to get a grip around that damn blade's decorated hilt, relief washes over him.
Xavia grunts, holding the dagger in one hand and his shoulder with the other. He staggers towards the brick wall of the alleyway behind him, the world tilting ominously around him as he moves.
He lets out a pained sigh as his back meets the rough surface of the bricks, feeling their coldness seep through his jacket. He slides down slowly until he's sitting on the wet pavement, grimacing at every jolt of pain that radiates from his wound.
His head falls back against it with a thud and he closes his eyes momentarily in an effort to regather his energy. This isn't Xavia's first brush with danger nor his first time nursing an injury alone in the shadows. Life had dealt him a hand that was never easy.
He learned early on that people often failed you when you needed them most. The world was harsh, and survival meant relying only on yourself. It made him strong, hardened him in ways few could understand.
Sitting there against the cold brick wall of an alleyway, grasping at his bleeding shoulder, it all seems like just another day in his brutal and unyielding life. But he wouldn't have it any other way. This solitude feels familiar, almost comforting.
Xavia tilts his head to gaze up at the sky. The dying light of day paints a breathtaking canvas overhead, vibrant streaks of red, orange, and purple bleeding into each other. A sunset has never looked so beautiful to him before.
The deep purples hold his attention. It's an alluring hue that somehow seems distinct from everything else around him. He can almost forget about the throbbing pain in his shoulder as he loses himself in its depths.
He knows he'll have to call for backup soon enough. But for now, just for a fleeting moment longer, Xavia allows himself to be swallowed by the dimming evening sky above him.
- VAN HELSING ESTATE // JANUARY 16TH -
Xavia finds himself striding down the opulent corridors of Aurelius's mansion, passing by priceless paintings and sculptures along the way. They're absurdly valuable, each piece a testament to its creator's genius and Aurelius's taste for exorbitance.
His steps echo off marble floors under a ceiling adorned with intricate murals; figures from ancient history locked in eternal combat amid sweeping landscapes. It's all disgustingly affluent but, it does give an impression of sophistication, he muses darkly to himself.
He makes his way towards Aurelius' office, a familiar route he has traversed countless times before for mission briefings. His right shoulder still feels stiff from his injury but it's no longer holding him back. It's just another battle scar etched onto his body as a testament to the dangerous life he lives.
As he approaches the heavy wooden doors leading to Aurelius' office, Xavia runs a hand through his slicked-back white hair, preparing himself mentally for whatever challenge awaits him beyond those doors.
No matter how mentally fortified he thought he was, life had a knack for throwing curveballs his way. And today seemed to be no exception.
As the office door creaks open, Xavia's eyes fall on her. An unfamiliar woman stands by Aurelius' desk; tall and poised with a self-assuredness that instantly grates on him. Her long black hair is pulled into a high ponytail with some loose strands framing her face.
Her complexion is fair, dotted with freckles like constellations across the span of her face and neck. One of her eyes is as brown as rich mahogany while the other is... Purple? The same damn hue from that sunset weeks ago that still haunts his thoughts.
The unknown woman wears a violet top with mesh accents and high-waisted jeans, a large bow resting against her shoulder. The weapon looks well-used and loved, like an extension of herself.
He feels an immediate surge of annoyance prickling beneath his skin at the sight of this stranger standing so casually in his employer's office. Yet another unexpected complication he's going to have to deal with now.
His attention drifts to the man sitting behind the desk, the grand patron of Xavia's dangerous escapades - Aurelius Van Helsing. An elderly man with snow-white hair that matches his well-maintained curly mustache.
He's clad in one of those horrendously purple aristocrat vests, complete with an equally obnoxious bow tie. Xavia secretly thinks his outfit looks like it was stolen from the set of some outdated period drama.
"Good afternoon, Xavia!" The elderly gentleman greets him warmly despite the coldness etched onto Xavia's features, "I'm glad you're here! There's someone I'd like you to meet."
Xavia's eyes narrow slightly at the boisterous greeting of his employer. Aurelius is a peculiar man with an infectious enthusiasm that often gets on Xavia's nerves.
"This is your new partner," Aurelius announces as he gestures grandly towards the stranger, grinning from ear to ear like he'd just unveiled a priceless artifact, "Her name is Dusk and she's quite skilled with that bow of hers!"
Dusk responds to the introduction with a subtle smile, her mismatched eyes meeting Xavia's dark brown ones. She gives him a small wave and steps forward, extending her hand towards him.
"It's nice to meet you!" She says, the sincerity in her voice somewhat disarming. Her demeanor contrasts sharply with his own cynicism and it feels like watching daylight clash against midnight.
Ignoring Dusk's extended hand, Xavia turns his attention back towards his employer. He crosses his arms over his chest, an unreadable expression on his face as he speaks.
"Partner?" He questions with a hint of incredulity in his voice, "I don't recall asking for one or needing one," His tone is curt but not entirely disrespectful.
He likes working alone. He doesn't need anyone else to watch his back and certainly not some newbie who will probably get in the way more than anything.
Aurelius laughs at Xavia's reaction, taking it in stride as always, "Ah, don't be so fickle, Xav," He begins lightheartedly, "I'm aware you like working alone but Dusk here is an incredible shot. And we both know you've had a few close calls lately."
He pauses, letting his words sink in before adding with a twinkle in his eye, "Plus, having some company wouldn't hurt now, would it?"
His words leave a bitter taste in Xavia's mouth and he bristles at the reminder of his close calls. He had always managed to get out alive, hadn't he? It's part of the job, high risk for high reward.
"I'm not fickle. I'm practical," Xavia retorts, his eyes darting from Dusk to Aurelius and back again, "I don't need a partner."
His gaze lingers on Dusk for a moment longer before he turns back towards his employer, irritation seeping into his voice.
"Especially one who looks like she's never been out past sunset," The comment is pointedly sharp; Xavia has no qualms about expressing his skepticism.
"And stop calling me Xav," He adds as an afterthought, annoyance flickering in his dark brown eyes.
"Pardon my interruption," A cool voice cuts through the room, distracting Xavia from his heated argument with Aurelius. The speaker is Zane Argyle - Aurelius' ever-present assistant and someone Xavia never lets himself trust too easily.
Zane always maintains an air of mystery around him. His navy-blue hair mirrors his cold eyes that seem to hide a world of secrets behind them. He dresses like an old-time detective, normally wearing crisp dress shirts and dark trench coats.
Xavia has heard whispers about Zane's connections with the underworld, but he'd rather not delve into it unless necessary. He knows better than to meddle with someone who could stab you in the back while shaking your hand.
"But I agree with Aurelius," Zane continues smoothly, meeting Xavia's glare without flinching, "You nearly died during your last job. Some cover wouldn't be a bad thing."
"An unnecessary interruption," He shoots back icily, "The last job had nothing to do with needing backup, and everything to do with lousy intel."
Zane doesn't miss a beat, bowing his head slightly in an apologetic gesture, "My apologies."
"Not accepted," Xavia retorts dismissively, his gaze cutting through the room. He's growing tired of this conversation.
Before Dusk can even open her mouth to speak, he turns sharply towards her with a cynical scowl plastered on his face, "Save it," He warns her before she can utter anything about being capable, reliable, or any other empty promise.
"I don't need some pretty-eyed archer for me to babysit."
Aurelius, despite the jovial facade, has a certain steeliness in his voice when he wants to be taken seriously. He levels a stern gaze at Xavia now, "This is not a request, Xavia. It's an order."
His words echo ominously through the grand room and for once since this conversation started, Xavia feels silenced.
"Dusk will accompany you on your next mission," Aurelius continues with finality that allows no argument.
Xavia clenches his jaw, the muscles in his neck straining against the flush of anger that spreads through him. His dark brown eyes narrow, a silent storm brewing within them as he glares at Aurelius.
"Fine," He spits out finally, the word tasting like poison on his tongue. But he isn't one to defy orders, not when it comes from Aurelius anyway.
Turning abruptly on his heel, Xavia storms towards the exit without sparing Dusk a second glance.
"Xavia!" Zane calls after him, "You need the details for your next mission!"
But Xavia isn't in the mood for more chatter. He flings a hand dismissively over his shoulder as he strides out of the room.
"I'm sure my 'partner' can fill me in... Seeing as she's so capable," He shoots back with an acid laced sarcasm that leaves no doubt about his feelings on this matter.
"Um..." Dusk begins, her voice barely a whisper in the tension-filled room. She wears a nervous smile on her face as she stares after Xavia's retreating figure, "Is he always like that?" Her question hangs in the air, trailing off into an uncertain silence.
Overhearing her comment, the door swings open again and Xavia pokes his head back in. His expression is unreadable but there's a mischievous glint in his eyes, "No. Only when I'm annoyed..." He corrects flatly, "Which is most of the time."
And with that, he disappears again, leaving behind another wave of uncomfortable silence.
The white-haired man sneers to himself as he saunters down the hallway, 'This is so annoying,' He thinks irritably. The faint throbbing at his temples is a testament to how frustrated this whole situation makes him.
"It's as he says, Dusk. Yes, he's always quite grumpy," Aurelius mentions with a lighthearted chuckle once Xavia's out of earshot. The old man doesn't seem to be bothered by his employee's blunt behavior at all, "I'm certain he'll warm up to you in no time."
Zane steps forward, adding onto Aurelius' words with a smirk on his face, one that Dusk finds unsettling for some reason, "Let's hope so. He's pretty stubborn after all... Well, that's our Xav for you."
Dusk chuckles lightly at their comments, brushing a stray strand of dark hair away from her face as she does so.
"Yeah? I've noticed," Her voice holds a hint of amusement mixed with determination which makes her eyes shine brightly, "He's cranky and stubborn but... That won't scare me off."
"That's a great attitude to have!" Aurelius laughs heartily at Dusk's determined declaration, his tone filled with unspoken approval, "I knew I made a good decision in hiring you."
"Thank you, sir!" Dusk's response comes brimming with enthusiasm and a spark of excitement that's hard to ignore. Her gratitude is genuine, adding an innocent charm to her already likable personality.
"Since you're here, Dusk," Zane begins, ignoring Xavia's abrupt departure as he pulls out a manila folder filled with documents and information. He slides it across the desk towards her, "The location is an amusement park in Oceania."
Dusk blinks in surprise at that revelation, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion, "Hmm... Amusement park?" She echoes the words slowly as she opens the folder to skim through its contents, "Sounds fun. What's our target?"
The curiosity is evident on her face, clearly showing that she's never been to one before.
"The target is an ancient mask that's currently being displayed in their haunted house exhibit," Zane explicates, watching as Dusk takes in the information.
Before he can provide further details, Aurelius chimes in cheerfully, "I'm looking forward to adding it to my collection! I've had my eyes on it for quite some time."
Dusk looks up at him with a small laugh escaping her lips, "An ancient mask... In a haunted house exhibit?" She repeats incredulously before her curiosity gets the better of her.
"That's definitely interesting," She concedes with a nod, "If you don't mind me asking, what's so special about it?"
Zane is about to answer Dusk's question when Aurelius beats him to it, "It's an ancient artifact that's rumored to be cursed!" The older man explains animatedly, "I can't wait to get my hands on it!"
"Cursed? Well, that's exciting," Dusk chuckles lightly, although her eyes hold a determined glint. She's eager not to disappoint her employer on her first assignment.
Zane takes this opportunity to cut into the conversation again, "I've arranged train tickets for you and Xavia. You'll leave in a few hours," He says as he reaches into his trench coat pocket, producing a slip of paper which he hands over to Dusk, "It should be a simple mission."
"And don't worry about Xav," Aurelius reassures her with a wide, confident smile, "He'll come around eventually. In fact, I'm certain he'll thank me for this someday."
Dusk turns to look at the closed door where Xavia had made his abrupt exit, her expression thoughtful as she contemplates the older man's words, "I'll do my best."
The train carriage jostles lightly as it chugs along the tracks, the scenery outside a blur of green and gold. Dusk leans against her window seat, her gaze studying Xavia's rigid form seated across from her. He's engrossed in his book, brows furrowed in deep concentration, an image so picturesque that it feels like she's looking at some living painting.
She takes in everything, from his strikingly white hair, gelled back yet playfully rebellious, to the way his black funnel neck jacket hugs and accentuates his toned physique. His almond-brown skin is smooth, save for an intimidating scar marring one cheek.
But despite this rugged exterior, there's an allure about him that she finds captivating, something magnetic about those deep eyes and firm set lips which seem perpetually poised between a smirk and scowl.
He snaps his book shut, looking directly at Dusk. His eyes are intense, holding her with a piercing stare as he warns her sharply, "For the last time... Can you stop staring? It's fucking annoying."
Dusk, startled out of her thoughts by his sudden outburst, blinks a few times and then flashes him a sheepish grin as she leans back in her seat, "Sorry. I was just wondering... Have you been on many jobs like this before?"
With a nonchalant shrug, Xavia turns his gaze back to the pages of his book, replying curtly, "More than I can count."
Nodding, she says politely, "I'm sure you have a lot of experience," She pauses briefly before mumbling, "Guess I'll try not to hold us back then."
"Good idea," Xavia replies dryly, not looking up from his book.
Feeling the conversation turning frigid with each word exchanged, Dusk rolls her eyes and huffs softly. She turns to stare out of the window, watching as night falls outside, "Okay then... Fine."
His words stung more than she'd like to admit. It's clear he sees her as a burden, and his cold demeanor is unsettling. But she won't let it deter her, instead, it fuels her determination to prove him wrong. His respect won't be easy to earn... But somehow, the challenge only makes it seem worthwhile in her eyes.
- DREAMLAND GARDENS // JANUARY 16TH -
Xavia and Dusk arrive at the entrance of Dreamland Gardens, sneaking into the park under the cover of darkness. The once neon lights of the park have long gone dim, the rides having been shut down for the night as an eerie stillness blankets everything around them.
Xavia shoots a severe glare in Dusk's direction, breaking the silence with his gruff voice, "Just stay out here, keep watch, and don't get caught," He instructs her before adding on a final point, "If you see something suspicious or if things go south... Just run."
To him, this is absolutely ridiculous. Why is he even explaining himself to her? She should already know what to do.
"But-" Dusk begins to protest, but is cut short as Xavia vanishes into the gloom of the park. She sighs, watching his retreating figure with a frown before murmuring under her breath, "Always cranky..."
She makes her way around the entrance of the amusement park, her eyes keenly scanning their surroundings. There doesn't seem to be much activity happening which is a good sign... But it also means that she has time to overthink.
Despite trying not to, she finds herself wondering about Xavia, what he's doing at the moment and if he needs help. Part of her wants to rush in after him, but another part argues that maybe this assignment is a test, some sort of trust exercise?
She shakes off these thoughts quickly as they only serve to frustrate her more than she already is.
Opting instead for action, Dusk enhances her sight and scans the area once again. She spots the top of a Ferris wheel looming in the distance and mutters a soft, "Perfect," under breath before setting off towards it.
She quickly scales up the structure until she reaches one of the cabins at its peak. From her elevated perch, she has a clear view over most of Dreamland Gardens, including its haunted house exhibit where Xavia most likely is right now.
If he wants her to keep watch then that's exactly what she'll do. And from up here, nothing will escape her sight.
