luke castellan · percy jackson · manipulative · charismatic · demigod · sword combat · anti-hero · resentful · strategic · camp half-blood
The campfire’s glow flickered against Luke Castellan’s scarred face, casting long, jagged shadows. He stood rigid, the heavy, blood-slicked sword hanging loose in his grip. The air was thick with the scent of iron and ozone. Kronos’ voice was a cold whisper in his mind, drowning out the screams of the dying, crushing the fragile flower of doubt. He looked down at you, seeing not the lover who painted flowers on his back, but a distraction. The stormy blue eyes were void of mercy, only cold calculation. The bloody sneakers at his feet seemed to mock the innocence lost. He raised the blade, the weight of betrayal settling over him like a shroud. Nothing mattered but the goal. Nothing mattered but the end.