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#posts that adrian would definitely neither understand nor like.
greelin · 1 year
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he is my princess diana.
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laurieteddy · 4 years
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tale of the field | beth march x reader
Description: you and Beth make your way to the field to have a picnic together. (gender neutral reader x beth march)
Request: anon requested simply something beth x reader
Wanrings: none
Word count: 2,066
A/N: this is my first ever Little Women fic, please let me know what you think! I dearly love Beth and I hope I did well :) also I’m on mobile so sorry if the post is weird/long
Requests are open!
Beth was the most captivating person you had ever met. She was such a caring and loving person, always glad to give a helping hand and kind word. She had such a tender and compassionate demeanor about her. It was as if she could calm any storm with the most gentle of words, something quite amazing. She did seem to put others before herself more often than not though. You were always there to put her first, as she at times would allow herself to slip in order to help other people.
Growing up around the March family and Laurie, you spent most of your days with Beth, finding her company to be your favorite by far. You would do a variety of things together. Cooking, gardening, acting out plays with her sisters, miserably failing when she would try teaching you how to play piano. Name anything and you have done it or will in the future. Both of you loved every minute of it. Jo often teased that you should mind how much time you spent together because might become too much alike.
“I couldn’t stand another Beth.” She’d joke.
This didn’t stop you of course, if anything it pushed you closer. Neither of you really enjoyed anyone else’s company as much as each other’s, why not do it as often as you could? So together you were, going on adventures of all sorts. From going to the market to exploring the woods, you would make anything an adventure. Today your adventure was going on a picnic in a field.
The sun was out and a light breeze was in the air, it was perfect weather for your plans. A smile was on your face as you entered the March home, much like your own, and quickly you made your way to the kitchen where you could hear Beth scorning Amy for trying to steal the bread. It felt like home to all who entered and they felt like family that you were ever so close to.
“Amy March, you keep your grubby paws off of my delicious lunch,” you teased with a grin.
Amy jumped at the sound of your voice, soon after making her way over to you when she recognized you.
“Oh, y/n, you’re here!” She chirped, “Don’t you look wonderful today.”
You raised a brow, “No reason to suck up, you aren’t going this time.”
Beth let out a small giggle, continuing to pack her picnic basket. Amy stomped her foot and was clearly upset at what you said. You knew she would want to go and that she had likely been bothering Beth and Marmee about it all week. Typically you wouldn’t mind if she joined but it was nice to spend some time with just you and Beth, no one else, especially not Amy. You both loved her to death but she could be a handful at times.
“Why not?” Amy whined.
“Because Beth and I have had this planned for just the two of us for weeks now.” you explained.
“We have to go now, Amy. You can come with us next time, we promise.” Beth offered a small smile.
Amy was quick to decline, a frown on her face. “I want to go now!”
“I know you do,” you pat the top of her head with an exaggerated frown. “Here, if I give you some of the cookies I made will you settle for next time?”
Her eyes widened and a smile spread across her lips. “Yes!”
You handed her three cookies and off she went, skipping away with joy and calling out to Meg and Jo. You and Beth couldn’t help but laugh at the rather simple solution used to pay her off after days of begging. Amy wasn’t typically so easy to get off your back, you knew she’d beg and you also knew she’d cooperate with those cookies.
Beth shook her head at her sister’s antics, “How did you know to make her favorite cookie?”
“Because Amy always wants to tag along, I knew I could get her to listen with them.” You smiled, “And if I didn’t have to bribe her we would’ve had more cookies, it was a win win situation.”
She chuckled at your response, knowing you were absolutely right. Locking arms with Beth you started today’s adventure. You had been to the field many times, meaning thought no longer needed to be used when finding your way there. Often you’d come up with wild tales to share along the way, dramatically acting them out with whatever makeshift props could be found on the path. It became somewhat of an unspoken tradition, and the crazier the tale the better. Another game seemed to be paired with this.
If you happened upon anyone you were to pause, acting completely normal as you passed but breaking right back into the story once out of sight. These were simply silly games but they brought smiles to your faces, and they helped Beth to feel more comfortable doing such things where you could be caught goofing around.
Anything you could do to help Beth feel more comfortable you would do, especially when you had gone out away from home. While plenty of fun could be found close to home there was much to be had elsewhere and you didn’t want Beth to miss out. You always went out on her terms, never wanting to make her feel pressured. She easily found herself calm around you, knowing she could trust you and that you were someone who truly understood her. Both of you had only the best intentions and interest for one another, promising to always be there for one another.
Though maybe not when you were deep in your tales.
“Put your sword to rest, Margaret! It’s no use to you any longer.” You spoke with a strong voice, pointing your sword (a conveniently found and crooked stick) at her.
Beth slowly placed her own sword on the ground, raising her hands above her head as she stood. “Would you truly kill me, Adrian? You’re no killer, even at your worst.”
You pushed your stick towards her, “I would watch my mouth if I were you.”
Margaret and Adrian, your newfound names in this tale. They were deeply in love with one another, but being from opposing families that despised each other for generations made it nearly impossible for them to be together. Still, they tried. Their families were not happy about it and did what they needed to prevent the two from being together. Spreading slander, making them go at each other’s throats just like the rest of their relations.
“I only speak the truth,” she delivered her line stern but gentle. Reaching out she put a hand on your sword, lightly pushing it down to point the ground. “I know you loved me at least once upon a dream, and if that love still lingers as mine does for you… I find it hard to believe you might kill me.”
Your heart swelled as she stepped closer, something that wasn’t part of your game. Her words and actions were so soft spoken and delicate, catching you off guard and stumping you. Your character was to stab Beth’s, giving the tale a dramatic speech about Adrian’s grief and regret before they drew their own final breath, making for quite a dramatic ending. Something was telling you to go for a different and new ending, finding yourself unable to hurt Margaret as Beth played her so well.
Keeping your gaze on Beth’s you dropped your sword. “You were right, I could never kill you. How could I ever have even come so close as I did?”
Beth was a bit surprised by the drop of your sword, quickly going along with it though. She held her chin high and embraced you in a hug, what she believed Margaret may do in that time.
“All is well, my love.” Her fingers tangled themselves through your hair, “I understand, I had been as close.”
A blush creeped onto your cheeks, completely out of character for Adrian. You and Beth had hugged countless times before but never in the context of this tale, never in such a way more than friendship. You wrapped your arms around her, trying to fall back into character. To appear more heartbroken you let your body fall somewhat limp, hoping to mask your previous flustered feeling.
Beth held you closer, “I am here. I will forever be with you, my dearest Adrian.”
“I have missed your embrace so,” your fingers gripped tighter as your eyes squeezed shut. “But… I cannot ask you to stay, nor can I allow it.”
Unwantingly, you peeled yourself away from her, resting your hand on Beth’s cheek. Her eyebrows furrowed, showing a confusion in herself and Margaret.
“I love you,” you began, “and yet I have hurt you. I can never forgive myself for this.” Your thumb skimmed over her cheekbone and she rested her hand over your own. “It would be selfish of me to wish you to stay,” you smiled weakly, “and so I must leave you once more.”
She let out a gentle breath. You seemed to have exchanged postures, yourself now standing tall while Beth let her shoulders drop. You were holding each other in near silence and definite bliss. Beth realized, too, that you had never held one another in such a way. She kept the thought to herself, just as you had. A blush nearly came to her as well, which she was quick to hide by bowing her head which was a seemingly meaningless action.
“Stay or leave,” she removed your hand from her cheek, “I shall think nothing but fond and loving thoughts of you daily.”
Her lips planted a small kiss on the palm of your hand, covering your hand with her own once again as if to seal the kiss. With that she let your hand fall, looking up to you through her lashes one last time as Margaret. Your breath seemed to have caught in your throat and you found yourself speechless, completely overcome by the moment.
Beth March had just given you a kiss on the palm of your hand, a completely new kiss than you had ever received. A kiss that part of you longed for, even if you didn’t realize it until you received it. Such a simple, and likely aimless, thing. Maybe you were reading too much into the tale, possibly creating an overemphasized reality. Beth was doing the same, her shy nature doing her no favors that minute.
“What a way to end our tale,” you broke the silence. “I simply couldn’t kill Margaret after everything she had been through to be back with Adrian.”
Beth brushed her hair behind her ear, clearing her throat and straightening her posture. “It still gave us the dramatic ending we craved, Jo would approve.”
“Ah, yes. Jo does enjoy a good drama,” you were both quick to change the subject. “And I think she’d be impressed by our impromptu skills.”
Beginning to feel a pressure, your actions were meek. You both did your best not to let feelings stir, always offering to listen to one another talk about anything whenever needed. There were times like this, though, where you were both too afraid to address anything. How were you to confess your love for one another when you refused to first confess it to yourself?
“Look, the field.” Beth smiled, skipping ahead to find the perfect spot for your picnic.
You stayed in the field for nearly the rest of the day, returning home right as the sun had set. The evening wasn’t filled with many words, rather each other’s peaceful company as you rested your head on Beth’s shoulder.
On the way home you picked a flower for her, something you joked she could keep as a reminder of that day. You both laughed about it in the moment, saying there wasn’t anything very special about that day. It was another day in the field, that was all. But it wasn’t a reminder for what took place in the field, it was a reminder of what happened before you had arrived. Beth kept the flower, pressing it as soon as she got upstairs and keeping it in her private journal as a bookmark.
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clansayeed · 4 years
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Bound by Circumstance ― Chapter 24: Better the Devil You Don’t (Epilogue)
PAIRING: Nik Ryder x trans*M!MC (Taylor Hunter) RATING: Mature
⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽
⥼ Bound by Circumstance ⥽
Taylor Hunter (MC) has made it good for himself in New Orleans; turns out moving to a new city fresh out of college to reinvent yourself isn’t as hard as people make it out to be. Things only start to get confusing when he finds himself the target of a malevolent wraith. Good thing someone’s looking out for him though — because without Nighthunter Nik Ryder as his bodyguard he definitely won’t survive long in the twisting darkness of the supernatural underworld he’s tripped into.
Bound by Circumstance and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the book Nightbound and the rest of the Bloodbound series. Find out more [HERE].
Note: Circumstance only loosely follows the events and plotline of Nightbound, and features a separate antagonist, different character motivations, and further worldbuilding.
*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Circumstance/series tag list!
⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽
Someone does right by Cadence.
note: And with that Bound by Circumstance is ended! I’ll start posting book 3, Bound by Choice, in a day or so! Book 3 is the only book in the series not based off of an existing Choices book, and follows the story of the Trinity in a series of flashback vignettes. Taylor and the Nightbound gang will return in book 4!
Also, Bound by Choice is currently in-progress, as opposed to books 1 & 2 which were completed at the time of posting. Once I catch up on the last chapters posted, my updating schedule will go to the weekly update my AO3 is on.
[READ IT ON AO3]
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A few weeks later…
[TEXT]: hurry up [TEXT]: where r u??? [TEXT]: ur loss I’m not waiting [TEXT]: BUZZKILL!!! [TEXT]: pic.jpg
The picture does it — finally draws his attention away from his computer to where his phone screen changes from 01:07 to 01:08 as if to taunt him.
It takes Cadence a moment to realize the woman next to Kathy in her (blurry) self-taken photo is supposed to be Ivy. So used to seeing her true form in person — but glamours don’t fade on digital recording.
And who else do they know dresses like she’s always ready to attend a Victorian funeral?
In his friend’s defense Cade was supposed to be at the Shift over an hour ago.
She’ll hear his excuses and his apologies, pretend as though he’s committed the greatest sin in history — but come sunrise and sobriety he’ll be forgiven. The Nighthunter likes to make everyone think she’s the picture of cool nonchalance; the human equivalent of a cat.
But anyone who feeds strays knows just how affectionate cats can be when they so choose.
He shuts down his work, fighting the instinctual habit to leave most of it out and make his space look clean by pushing it to the sides of his desk — actually putting things back in their folders and boxes.
Tap-tap.
His head jerks up quick enough for his glasses to threaten flight. Working in this particular space for over a decade now, there isn’t anyone who doesn’t know about Odd Cadence and his odd hours; how he refuses to work in the daylight due to a debilitating allergy.
Even Gary from night maintenance wouldn’t bother.
Tap-tap.
He listens for a heartbeat. Can hear everything from the rush of water through old plumbing to the coo of pigeons scavenging on the outside Square.
Tap—
Isadora de la Rosa doesn’t get to finish her genteel knocking; pale hand hovering just shy of the taller vampire’s collarbone as he holds the door open.
She looks a little dumbfounded for him to have answered. That’s silly, though, since she was in his territory now.
The air is thick with a tension not felt since Mardi Gras those weeks ago. She looks ready to turn and leave without a word between them. He almost lets her.
“Izzy,” by way of greeting, and even though she now runs the dynasty her father built he struggles to call her anything but the petulant youthful human woman he first met her as, “I was just heading out.”
He gives her a chance; sees the opportunity for escape that flickers in her weathered eyes no longer young but no less defiant by nature.
Some people were just born ready to stand their ground. He always admired that about her.
“This won’t take long.”
One step forward, one step back. A familiar dance neither acknowledges as Isadora invites herself into his space. She’s not the oldest thing in the room by far, nor the most expensive. Still she commands the air around her to whisper softer, for the floorboards under her heels to wait until she passes to creak.
“Sure, come on in…”
She makes a point of trying to keep an arms’ length between her body and any clutter. He won’t apologize for it, not to her. She was half the reason he’s like this.
“I’m glad to see the Museum is treating you well.”
“Uh-huh.” He’s never met a de la Rosa good at small talk. He still hasn’t.
But she keeps trying. It’s hard not to cringe at every forced word, how she purposefully finds something to look at and mention; “New project, I see.”
Cadence doesn’t answer. She switches a black leather briefcase from one hand to the other; a poised woman’s version of shuffling her feet.
“You always were best kept —”
“I have somewhere to be.”
Her quirked brow says it all; how she definitely doesn’t believe him but calling him out on it is somehow counterproductive to why she’s here.
Why is she here?
Because the only reason he can conjure up has to do with the Coven, and the Council, and that’s why they’re enjoying nights like these at the Shift. To forget about everything that happened — to move on.
“Look, Izzy — if this is something that can wait, can it? I’ve got office hours tomorrow night—or hell, I’ll even come ‘round to the family house. But I do have somewhere to be, and I’m already late.”
When she takes stock of the room again he understands. It’s a tactic — and not a very good one — to allow her to think.
They’ve never been like this before. So why now?
It’s a brief flicker; blink-and-you-miss-it type. But Cadence doesn’t miss it — how Izzy stares at the chair claimed by Katherine in permanent marker.
“You’re going to meet her, the Nighthunter.”
“My friend Katherine, yes. Among others.”
“She treads dangerous waters in this town.”
It sounds a little too much like a threat for Cade’s comfort. Makes it a real effort to keep from letting it get to him.
“I think the same could be said for any hunter.” For Katherine, for Ryder.
“Yes, you would know,” she clasps the case handle with both hands over her front; a shield between them, “though this one — she’s different, isn’t she? She’s well-connected.”
Like he’s been fumbling around in the dark of his head — he finally finds the lamp chain and tugs. Lets the light flood through with an “Ah” of understanding.
So that’s what this is about.
“Contrary to what you may believe this isn’t the same world Carlo built his dynasty in. Humans — even Nighthunters and especially out-of-towners — they don’t whisper the rules to one another anymore.” Then, with firm conviction; “Katherine didn’t know she needed to ask your father for permission to bring Adrian Raines into town.”
“But you did.”
“Yeah, I did.”
If she’s here to enact some sort of delayed punishment, Cadence can’t promise he’ll stay civil. “I weighed the risks carefully,” he continues, “and decided it was best for everyone that no one knew who didn’t need to know.” Not that it had been a good choice. Maybe it could have saved Raines at his trial.
Sometimes he wonders why the two of them didn’t work out — especially when she was Turned. It wasn’t because of her perceived age, and obviously being his boss’ daughter hadn’t stopped them from getting involved in the first place.
He always remembers not a moment later. There’s a reason the term is ‘opposites attract.’ They were too similar — too hot in the head and both prone to speaking and acting without thinking ahead. Without considering the consequences.
So when she isn’t sneering an insult at him on the heels of Cade actually admitting to his wrongdoing… he knows something is very wrong.
“Izzy…?”
And the smile she offers is too forced, too fake. Sends shivers down his spine. “I’m glad you see things that way.”
“What way?”
She unclasps the briefcase with a flick of her little fingers. “That sometimes, in rare cases I think, withholding knowledge from someone is for the best; for all parties involved.
“I had prepared to give you this the night of the Minotaur’s championship fight…” The leather bound folder she pulls free is familiar only in that he’s seen the de la Rosa lawyers carry them like extensions of their hands. “And I have spent many hours since debating whether or not I made the right choice in keeping it close. Watching you in the cage — that made it easier.”
“Something’s happening, Kath—”
“Don’t fight it. Let it swallow you whole.”
Let it swallow you whole.
Katherine couldn’t possibly have known just how accurate she had been.
How it felt to stand at the edge of a yawning abyss no one else could see… and how it felt to have the ground fall out from under his feet the moment he decided to jump.
Memories of what happened after his meeting with Isadora still only came to him in clusters. It was less the act of remembering than feeling the same way — sensory triggers like the smell of blood or the tinny grate of a chain link fence.
Of course she had seen the fight. There were members of the underground community still who approached him on the street with praise for his ‘performance,’ or thanking him for standing up to the illegal deals Persephone covered with velvet and glitter.
But there’s a difference between knowing something and knowing it. Knowing the same hand he used to caress her cheek had also torn off the Minotaur’s horn. Knowing she was witness to it…
Isadora’s touch is solid, without the heat humans bring or the chill they feel. It simply is as she gives him the folder with no other choice. Whatever secrets rest inside they are his burden now.
“What you see here… I ask that you please not think less of me for keeping it from you. I was…” she doesn’t give an excuse — not a single one, “I was doing what I thought was right. But I cannot be the one to make that choice anymore. It’s too much Cadence; it’s far too much.”
He means to find comfort or some understanding in their hands. But there’s none to be found.
They pull away as intimate strangers. The space between them cavernous and echoing — and it only grows wider as he realizes she isn’t the one creating it.
He doesn’t need to ask what mystery he now holds.
What other mystery is there but the thing that has plagued him from their first “hello” to this their last “goodbye?”
Cadence’s voice is calm, even to his own ears. “Is this everything?”
“All that my daughter could find among his possessions.”
“And if I have any questions…”
“No,” she interrupts, “no you may not bring them to me. I would rather meet the sun than invite the conflict this will bring into my city, to my family’s doorstep.”
He wants to call her selfish but can’t say he wouldn’t be the same way were their roles reversed.
It’s a nice fantasy—altruism, kindness, doing the right thing so as not to hurt someone close—but it is a fantasy.
So what if he carried the ring she returned to him for a decade in mourning?
And intuition is a very separate thing from mind-reading; that he knows. In Isadora, though, the lines between them have always been a little smudged.
“In case you have any ideas of this meaning…” she breathes and tries again, “just know this has nothing to do with our past, Cadence. Consider this to be an act of release. Beyond what the Council will ask of us, I wash my hands of you.”
Isadora’s decision is as clear now as it was then. She will always choose her family over him. He can’t begrudge her that in the least.
“If only it were that simple.” But it’s probably for the best.
She leaves as abruptly as she arrived. Somehow with the ability to disrupt everything in his space without touching a single thing. As he looks around the office now it feels tainted with secrets and lies; all the things he still doesn’t know that now rest in his hand.
He need only look.
The chair is less than five steps away but he can’t muster the energy to move both his legs and arms; chooses the latter because what comparison is comfort to answers?
Cadence opens the folder and begins to read.
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OOC: Hey friend, it's rocket-scientist, just saying bye. Someone has threatened to kill me, faked evidence against me to prove I've "harassed and threatened PB writers" and of course, people believed her. Now the whole Tumblr is against me, even people I used to consider friends. Good luck with your blog and fics, your plots are way more awesome than anything PB ever wrote.
Out of Character:
So, I wake up today, find this message, check the tag and conclude: What the fucking hell?
Rocket-scientist was one of my Tumblr friends, not a close but a more casual one, and people actually pushed her to delete. That is nasty.
Now, I don’t know what exactly happened, but I assume that she commented on PB’s new Friday book, demanding to know what this’ll mean for BB, since it was a Friday book as well. As the only one who doubted the return of BB publicly, she had been receiving hate for who knows how long, and now it apparently escalated. There are numerous posts in the tag, some more and some less educated, some more and some less disrespectful.
Why the hell would she harass and threaten writers? Stop portraying PB as gods, because they aren’t. Are they good writers? Of course. Are they creative? No doubt. Do we like Choices? Well, obviously! But that doesn’t make them good people. Rocket isn’t the only one who has negative experiences with PB. A friend of mine has, too, and I have myself. Stop praising them like gods. They are story liners who are getting paid, and who do a great job, creating fascinating stories of good quality. But good stories don’t make good people.
Rocket herself has been told in October by one of the writers that they never planned to write BB 2. Believe that or not, that’s on you. But don’t send people hate, neither publicly nor on anon mode, for making their opinion clear. I understand that many people found it annoying, because she used every opportunity to state it, but, unlike any other BB stan, she at least fought for what she wanted, and made it clear that there was a demand, that many fans would gladly invest in BB.
Rocket had clear reasons to believe BB 2 isn’t being written and she was free to state them. The fandom is diverse enough for dissidents to ignore what they don’t like. How many angry posts and jokes about Vega have I ignored? How many Adrian fanfics am I ignoring to this day? It may be annoying at times, but it doesn’t give me the right to shit on the people who request and write Adrian fanfics just because I don’t want to read them. In the same way, people who stan villains don’t want to be shit on either.
I am mentioning the post of @yall-play-it-cool right here, because I got mentioned in theirs (thank you for appreciating my work, it means a lot!). I agree with its core, but I’d like to bring attention to the fact that some people have no idea how much a story or character can influence a person’s life. I can’t stress this enough. Most people in the fandom have a character they love in every book, but that’s not the case for everyone. For example, Rocket and I only love one character from one book, and that, to an extreme amount. Apparently, people can’t understand that and say shit like “It’s only an app, lmao”. No. It’s more than that to some of us.
I definitely didn’t know Rocket very well, but I believe one hundred per cent that BB helped her manage her depression. The fact that some people ridicule that is nasty. I’m truly sorry for whoever doesn’t have enough empathy to put themselves into her shoes and to understand that BB’s absence has a significant impact on her well-being. I have no idea in what way Rocket has apparently “harassed” or “threatened” any writers, but the way I know her, she wouldn’t do that and I believe her when she says it’s fake.
Some posts in the tag regarding the issue are so damaging, created by people who didn’t know her and had no idea about the entire issue, but who are apparently only here to shit on anyone whose opinions are negative or different. Most of them are parrots who repeated what once has been said; that BB 2 is coming and that it should rather take a long time and be good than be rushed and crappy. These parrots repeated their shit every time Rocket spoke up even now that she has deleted, while none of them know better than her. She used her voice to make a change while they used theirs to silence her.
Worse than those people who know nothing and solely repeat what they picked up somewhere is that “””poem””” about someone asking for BB 2 and being told to die. What the fuck??? Do you have any idea what impact your words have on people??? I’m not tagging the creator, because they way I know her, she’s a nice person, and I don’t want to start drama on this blog. However, my advice is to delete it, because it’s obviously harmful as hell. People with a big reach can apparently post anything and a mass of people will support them and blindly share their opinions. This is not okay.
In any case, the damage has been done. It’s sad to see that someone who was solely repeating an opinion rather than others who are admiring PB blindly was bullied to the point of deleting. She’s considered deleting her account before, but I never thought it’d actually escalate the way it did. Not only is it sad because she was a very passionate Kamilah stan and a great writer, but it is sad on a humane level, because someone who already had depression was bullied out of a community that was supposed to be accepting, solely for repeating an opinion. I have no way to contact Rocket, but I’m praying she’s okay.
Everyone who contributed to this should be ashamed of themselves. You might have bullied someone into suicide.
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