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Summary
There is a thread that winds through Janus’s tongue.
Thin, golden, finely spun with lies. It tastes sweet against the back of his teeth, the back of his throat. As he talks, it colors his words with a soft gleam, spinning and spinning into the air in front of him. It coils neatly around his throat as its spool and winks.
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Bookmark Notes:
guh (im writing this next to someone so no cringe remarks today 😔)