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Summary
He wouldn’t believe it if he hadn’t seen it himself. The way Taehyung’s face contorts in a way Jimin’s never seen before. The way he goes rigid, defensive, his lip curling into something disgusting and cruel, the way his eyes narrow and burn and sear into Jin’s blue skin and black eyes and perfectly flat expression in the single moment it takes his tail blade to reach the skin of Taehyung’s throat.
Yeerk, Seokjin says, and Jimin’s world falls apart.
