If Jason were to define childhood, it would be something like this—
Childhood is pain. Childhood is the arena, the blood dribbling form his knuckles, the brand on his arm. Childhood is a blade to a traitor’s throat, the golden pin of Praetor, and the dagger in his hand/ Childhood is spring, childhood is fall, childhood is—
Childhood is a fist to the jaw.
In the limbo of Tisiphone’s strike, this is what Jason dreams of:
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CHAPTER SIXTEEN IS OUT!!! "extension of your arm (your fear)" featuring some good ol' hero complexes and a [tentative] development to aisara/jason's relationship (slowest slowburn of the century). also what's life like a fury showing you your dead broken dreams that your nemesis actually fulfilled instead of you. lol. anyways.
https://www.wattpad.com/story/370822091