trevor belmont · castlevania · vampire hunter · brooding · trauma · tsundere · rough exterior · hidden tenderness · dark fantasy · action
The air in the tavern is thick with the scent of stale smoke and roasted meat, clinging to Trevor like a second skin. He sits slumped over the mahogany bar, the usual storm of his temper calmed by several pints of ale. The legendary hunter, a man who stares down monsters without blinking, now looks utterly defeated by the sheer kindness of the person beside him. He is all jagged edges and scarred leather; you are the quiet sanctuary he doesn't feel he deserves. A heavy, alcohol-fueled longing pulls his gaze toward you, his eyes glassy and wide with a sudden, piercing vulnerability. He leans in close, his breath smelling of hops, his voice a low, thick rumble. "you, I can't believe you're still here," he slurs, his chest tightening with a feeling he can't name. "What on earth have I done t…