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tsaomengde · 7 months

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The Villeneuve Dune(s) can be broadly interpreted as one of the two possible futures Paul sees in the original novel

Spoilers below for Dune Part Two. (And for the original novel, but that's been out since the 60s.)

He had seen two main branchings along the way ahead--in one he confronted an evil old Baron and said: "Hello, Grandfather." The thought of that path and what lay along it sickened him.

The other path held long patches of grey obscurity except for peaks of violence. He had seen a warrior religion there, a fire spreading across the universe with the Atreides green and black banner waving at the head of fanatic legions drunk on spice liquor. Gurney Halleck and a few others of his father's men--a pitiful few--were among them, all marked by the hawk symbol from the shrine of his father's skull.

"I can't go that way," he muttered. "That's what the old witches of your schools really want."

Obviously the Doylist explanation for why there are differences in the new films is that the original book is 60+ years old and has certain elements no longer in cultural vogue that were adapted out or altered to better fit modern sensibilities, and I'm all for that. But I did find it interesting that there is an explicit moment at the end of Part 2 where Paul confronts the Baron, utters the "Hello, Grandfather," line, and kills him.

This isn't necessarily because there is any one choice that Paul makes throughout the course of the two movies that leads here instead of to the jihad. In point of fact, most of the changes that drive him here are caused by choices made in the adaptations of the films.

The causal chain that leads to Paul undertaking the spice agony is his failure to predict the attack on Sietch Tabr, rather than his failure to predict Gurney's attack on Jessica; this is, of course, necessitated by the omission of the Harkonnen scheme in part 1 to impair Thufir's Mentat efficiency and potentially drive a wedge between Leto and Jessica by framing Jessica as the traitor. The final push that causes him to make the decision is, of course, the vision he experiences of an alternate future in which he didn't have to kill Jamis, with Jamis counseling him to climb as high as possible before the hunt so he can see as far as possible. (In other words, he ignores Stilgar's advice of not listening to the djinn.)

Similarly, his killing of the Baron is necessitated by the adaptational choice to keep Alia as a fetus so the audience doesn't have to deal with a two-year-old talking like an adult and killing the Baron, which they probably did because it would have been distracting.

However, I might argue that a Watsonian explanation for the film omitting the two-year time-jump lies specifically with Paul's decision to explicitly disavow the prophecy when Jessica undergoes the spice agony, and to explain to the Fremen that her survival is because of her Bene Gesserit training. He then attempts to secure his position with the Fremen through secular deeds, rather than letting Jessica carve a place for them with the BG prophesy.

This disagreement between the two of them causes her in turn to take a more active approach in cultivating Paul's status as Lisan al-Gaib, which accelerates the timeline of the Fremen being ready to submit to him. In turn, Paul focusing more strongly on guerrilla war against the Harkonnens accelerates the timeline of Feyd-Rautha being put in charge of Arrakis and cracking down hard in the north, leading to the aforementioned crisis point of Sietch Tabr being attacked without Paul's foreknowledge.

Notably, while we do see the shrine of Leto's skull in the film, we only see it in a vision; there is no moment in the movie where Paul explicitly finds his father's remains and enshrines them. Hence, going from a strict interpretation of the film's "text," this is not the future in which the legions are marked by the shrine, because the shrine doesn't exist. It is the other future. The compression of time means that Paul and Chani's relationship is much newer and more fragile and doesn't survive the strain of his apotheosis, and that's what sickens him most.

Of course, the "Hello, Grandfather" path also leads to the jihad, because Paul's tragedy is that his very existence was always going to lead to it, regardless of what he chose to do.

And Paul saw how futile were any efforts of his to change any smallest bit of this. He had thought to oppose the jihad within himself, but the jihad would be. His legions would rage out from Arrakis even without him. They needed only the legend he already had become. He had shown them the way, given them mastery even over the Guild which must have the spice to exist.

Obviously none of this passes explicit, close scrutiny, and is more of a fun "if you squint and look at it a certain way it kind of makes sense." I expect that the line was put in as a nod to the original book, no more or less, but making up head-canons like this is fun for me and if even one other person finds it edifying then I consider sharing it time well spent!

#dune #dune part two #headcanon #analysis #paul atreides #lady jessica #chani #chani kynes #dune part two spoilers

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gojoswhitebabydolllashes · 1 month

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Rise and you should pay.

Logan howlett x reader

------

DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE SPOILERS!!!!

Warnings: fluff idk, angst stuff. Normal mcu/xmen stuff. Logan howlett is hot. Idk what else.

After years of working at the TVA, you'd have thought I was accustomed to being devastated by watching timelines fade and watching things disappear in front of my eyes. The amount of screams and cries and groans of agony, the scene of upset and destruction.

It never really becomes normal. Not for anyone. Not even for me. The noises are haunting. Horrifying. Those orange strands of death, veiny and disgustingly upsetting to stare at. I missed the x mansion. I missed staring at the stone walls. Hell, I even missed staring at Charles's wheelchair wheels roll around.

That's how I knew I was beginning to lose my mind. I wanted my powers back. I wanted my family and my life back. And above everything, I just wanted Logan back.

I had been assigned a high-profile retrieval mission to fetch the Wolverine alongside deadpool, the anti-hero mercenary that apparently everyone in the TVA despised. I still haven't found one person who even tolerates him.

But I turnt this mission down. They were using me for bait to bring Logan to them and do God knows what to him. I wasn't going to be an accomplice to that.

I didn't hate my job here. I suppose it got interesting most days. Sometimes, we got iron-Man variants stumble in. Most days, it was Loki variants, and on the rare occasion, scarlet witch.

Any other day felt like being an accountant.

And the week after, I dealt with my last Loki variant. I took the Wolverine job. Of course they were ecstatic but I wasn't doing it for their pleasure or for the sacred fuck around of the timeline. No, I just wanted my Logan back.

And God help anyone who would try to stop me.

The void.

Deserted, hot, dry, and empty beyond horizon. My suit was clinging to me. By the end of this walk, I swore my body was going to be stained yellow and blue. I'd look like a van gogh paint palette in 20 minutes.

Groaning, I began to stumble toward a billboard, or what looked like a sign of some kind. Shade. Finally some fucking shade.

I wanted to find Logan. I really did. But I wasn't going to be able to do it. Without some fucking help that was for sure. I don't even know if he's here. But the TVA tazed me with their stick things and now I'm here.

"You know if you wanted shade that badly, you should have grown out your hair. It can be an awesome umbrella or the perfect love handles"

I didn't know who the fuck was talking to me. But I saw in the distance a red suit I felt I had definitely seen before. Black patches. God be damned blurry vision.

"Who the fuck is that?" I groaned, leaning my head against a pole.

I watched as they approached closer.

"Fuck" I cursed to myself.

"God you look like shit don't you?"

Deadpool.

---

Logans arms were hard. They weren't comfortable sleeping on, but they were comfortable to hold and to be held by. He always smelt like woodfire and sweat. To be near him was to drown in the scent of the infamous wolverine.

Not a single person had ever expected him to smell of roses and sunshine. Well to me he smelt like heaven, but if you had ever asked Charles Xavier he'd say 'deodorant exists Logan. Use it'

It wasn't fair how badly I wanted him back.

"Is she gonna wake up or what? We have a bald freak to kill"

Wade's annoying voice. Fuck. I might have accidentally stumbled into hell, I fear.

"Shut the fuck up for once would you?" I mumbled.

Slowly, I sat up and instantly came face with four people. All confused and all faintly recognisable. One, obviously, was deadpool. One may have been blade, and I didn't know the other two. But I knew my back was killing me and I needed to fix that shit.

"Where the fuck am I?" I asked as I rolled my back into place.

"You're in the void. Welcome to hell" A female voice spoke.

"And who are all of you?"

One by one.

Blade

Elektra

Gambit

And for any other reason, Wade introduced himself. Even though I already fucking knew him.

"I need to get out of Here"

"Ya know ya could just stay, ya much safer ere"

Gambit. God, I could never understand him.

"Why are you all here?" I asked them. Mostly wade but I asked it as a collective.

"Well," Wade pointed to himself. "I'm here with wolvie, and we're gonna kill a bald freakazoid with all these gu-" he said in an unbearably happy tone.

"I'm sorry." I put my hand up "wolvie?"

"Yeah," Elektra spoke, "like wolverine?"

At the point I was convinced I had actually died. I was dead. The heat had finally gotten to me, and this was the price I paid for not dying honourably.

"Ya all good? Ya look pale."

I was too focused on 'wolvie' to listen to gambit. Wolverine. Wolverine. Wolverine. Gods above, I was going to throw up.

"I'm sorry, Wolverine?!" My mouth fell agape.

"Yeah, big yellow kitty, died heaps of times but never really dies. Sweaty all the time. Heroic and brave. Used to bang the phoenix lady"

I held my hand up again "Yeah Yeah I get it"

I looked around and stood up. The air was humid, and through a small window I could see trees. A forest? How in the fuck is there a forest here?

"Is he here?"

"Wolvie? Yeah, he's just there" Wade pointed behind me.

The scent, oh, that familiar scent. That intoxicating smell. It invades my sinuses.

"Who the fuck is this?"

It sounds just like him. It sounds like gaining memories back. It sounds like losing them. It sounds like campfires on the farm. It sounds like logans late night wood chopping activities.

I turnt around. Yellow. And blue. Blue. Yellow. Azure. Sapphire. Amber. Sunflower.

"Why the fuck is she dressed like me?" He grumbled

Blade hummed. "I was waiting for some to mention it"

There he was. His gruff face. Aged. Still lined in scruffy brown hair. Kitty ears still in his hair. Frown lines. Deep brown eyes and memories all over.

"Logan"

He furrowed his eyebrows and shoved my shoulder as he walked right passed me "how the fuck does she know my name? Who the fuck is this wade?!"

He doesn't remember me.

Hedoesntremmeberme he does n, he he , rmme.

My head hit the floor with a thud. It felt like taking a bullet for Logan for the first time. The first time ever felt something real.

"You know him don't you?" Wade asked.

"Better than anyone"

The camp-fire crackled Amber in the dark forest. It brought back memories I didn't know If I wanted to keep or throw away.

"He's someone very important to me" I sighed

"He doesn't remember you. Do you know why?" Elektra asked

I tried to hold back tears. I missed xaviers' wise advice. I missed hearing Jean's voice tell me to relax and drink tea. I missed storms taking me for walks to clear my head. And I missed most of all, logans endless effort to help me.

"No. No, I don't know!" I threw one of my daggers at a tree, and it hit with a splitting thud into the wood. Elektra flinched, worried the tree would split completely and fall.

"I just want him back. It wasn't supposed to be like this"

No. Not like this at all.

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #xmen #marvel #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine #wolverine x reader

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blueparadis · 2 years

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❝ BACKWARDS ❞ + BYAKUYA KUCHIKI.

( cw. )—› f!reader, angst, stranger to (fre)enemies to lovers, canon typical elements, slowburn, widower!byakuya, soul society arc spoilers, arrange marriage , mention of death,smût descriptions. word count :: 3.2k | redirect to blog navigation.

( syn. )—› after an emotional whirlwind, byakuya was given a chance to recuperate his irrevocable losses but little did y/n know that it was not what he asked for and he could never have what he wanted to ask for; hence, she had to face all kinds of retaliation from him.

( notes. )—› submission for ‘a change of pace’ collab by @mekiza . also, please accept this Sawn ( @swanphantasm ) ; it is because of you that I became aware of how handsome ( and sad ) he is. well . . .he is not my favorite but i like him a lot, so much so that i wrote that same cliche trope with him. forgive me </3

Words do not express emotions and thoughts precisely. They always become a little different when they are expressed; a little distorted, a little foolish, and a little bitter at some times yet life still goes on carrying a bevy of misunderstandings. It has to go on at least for Byakuya, who was stripped of love and time. Time to grieve, give and forgive, time to heal, and time to fall in love again.

Another bright day washes over the lush green spread of the garden despite the despondency and the agony of losing his wife, Hisana Kuchiki, to illness, to mere illness . It has been a few months since he became the head of the family even though his grandfather was still alive. His grandfather thought it would be better if Byakuya became the head of the family while he has still time, time to supervise him to keep up the family's reputation at hard times.

And so it began: the hypocrisy of rules.

Ginrei Kuchiki, the former head of the Kuchiki clan, when death was knocking at his door declared that Byakuya needs to be re-married. He knew that even if he was the head of the family he had no freedom to exercise his wishes and desires. He was just a scarecrow now , not the head of the family. He wanted to protest. He was aware that he would have to re-marry since he is the only one to carry the family line but he did not know that it would be so soon. All he wanted was time but everyone was running sort of it. His grandfather once said that decisions made in haste yield no good. What happened to that now, huh? However, there was one thing he was free to do, and that is, to choose his wife regardless of the family background and bloodline.

“You should be grateful that Byakuya has agreed to marry you even with all the rumors. He could have chosen a wife from the younger line of pure women” Y/N’s mother spoke as she kept on brushing her daughter’s hair, body shaking with excitement and tension brimming at her fingertips. She was not trying to hurt her. She only stated facts. Everyone knew about it. Y/N did too. Shihnōin Clan was one of the four noble families in the soul society. And the fate of the clan was hanging by the thread since Y/N’s previous marriage was full of woes. With no male heir she was the one to carry the bloodline. Even the distant families warded off when they had an ounce of the knowledge that Y/N was the reason for her husband’s death, for her own doom. And her father made it clear that she is too young to stay unmarried as soon as her husband was buried. No time to lament, nor to grieve. Tragic, is it not?

No. It is not. It was anything but not tragic. Sure, people talked, spun lies, and spread rumors but that is what they do, that is the only thing they know to do. Some said she poisoned her own husband; some said she was a witch of dark magic; some even go as far as saying that she had a secret lover who belonged to the low caste who killed her husband; But it did not matter what they said, it did not since if anything they helped to her to earn sympathy from the kinder souls, and Y/N’s mother made sure her daughter had no problem to have a stable life, finding her a proper husband and sealing the fate of Shihnōin clan with the Kuchiki clan. To people, it was more of an alliance, to the respective families, it was more of a marriage of convenience than a marriage. But to her it was a re-birth while to him it was just duty.

It was the fourth of January when her heart beat again hearing the sound of carriage. He is here.

Y/N could hear low voices from downstairs. Plain and prosaic but she could spot Byakuya’s voice out of them all. He specifically requested to see y/n alone and her parents did not express any objections. If she had not been married before, they would never have let her alone with a man, but as it was they thought they did not have to defend her virtue anymore. And Y/N could never tell them how wrong they were, that her previous marriage was never consummated. How shall she ever say that to him?

Byakuya was decent enough to knock and Y/N made no hurry to open the door. She bowed down, greeted him with a smile, and retreated towards the couch standing, waiting for him to follow her lead. “I hope you're aware of the circumstances of our meeting today. ” He seemed so restrained and controlled, as if his emotions were bottled up so deep inside, not even he could reach them. It is a wonder how much of it was the result of his wife’s death and how much was his natural disposition.

“Yes,” she said, hoping he could not see how nervous she was. She gestured toward the couch to the left. “Would you like to sit down for our talk?”Byakuya nodded. She sank down on the sofa, and he took the armchair across from her. She would have thought he would sit beside her, but he seemed content to keep as much space between them as was acceptable.

“I assume your father told you that our wedding is planned for February 14th” Y/N searched for a flicker of sadness or wistfulness in his voice, but there was nothing. She rested her hands in her lap, linking her fingers. There was less chance of him noticing her trembling that way. “Yes. He told me a few days ago.” Byakuya was courteous enough to give her the attention she needs. If all these were in his hands, he would not have been here. “I hope you're okay with this. With o-jii-sama’s health deteriorating and me being the head of the family, things are a little hasty. . .” Words became too heavy to reach her. She was bubbling with excitement that maybe, this marriage won't fail like the last one, maybe he won't flee with his secret lover while staging his death ( like her previous husband did ), and maybe he will see her as a woman enough. . .

“Why did you choose me?” Y/N asked out of the blue unable to keep up with his calm demeanor anymore. She had been wondering about this ever since her father had told her about his agreement with Byakuya. She knew it was a question that she was not supposed to ask, not like this. Byakuya’s expression did not alter.

“Of course. Many suggested your cousin but I didn’t want a wife who’s barely of age. Unfortunately, most women in their twenties are already married, and most widows are older than me or have children, both unacceptable for a man in my position as you will probably understand.” She nodded. There were so many rules and etiquettes when it came to finding the right spouse, especially for a man in his position, which was why so many were shocked when y/n was announced as his future wife. Byakuya had stepped on many toes with that decision. “So you were the only logical choice. You are, of course, still quite young, but that can’t be changed.”

For a moment She was stunned into silence by his emotionless reasoning. She was not as naïve as she used to be, but she would have hoped at least part of the reason why Byakuya had chosen her was that he was attracted to her, found her pretty, or at least fascinating to some extent, but this cold explanation destroyed that small flicker of hope.

“I’m twenty-five,” she exclaimed in a surprisingly calm voice. Maybe his aloofness rubbed off on her. If so, she would be known as the ice queen in no time. “That’s not young by our marriage standards.”

“Yes, still five years younger than me” He sounded as if she was forcing him to marry her, as if one of the rumors, as they say, that y/n is a witch is true. His previous wife was barely a year younger than him and they had shared good five years of married life until she died due to illness on a fine morning on a spring day.

“Then maybe you should look for another wife. I didn’t ask you to marry me.” The moment the words were out, y/n clamped a hand over her mouth, then met Byakuya’s gaze. He did not look angry, he did not look anything. His face was as it always was. Stoic and emotionless . “I’m sorry. That was very rude. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Byakuya has been sitting in the same manner as he did when he first took the armchair instead of the couch. He left the chair and walked towards her. With his hands now inside his slacks, his frame loomed over her. He took out his right hand, fisted, and kept the small velvet box on the side table. “Right. You shouldn't have.” Byakuya said as he noticed her eyes were still on the carpet. “But it's okay. I understand your concern.”

Her gaze flickered toward his right hand and her stomach plummeted. He was still wearing his old wedding ring. Another strange burst of disappointment filled her. If he wore it after all this time, he must still be in love with his dead wife, or was it a simple matter of habit? He noticed her gaze and for the first time his stoic mask slipped but it was gone so quickly that she thought she imagined it. Byakuya did not bother to explain and there was a knock on the door so he did not have the time either. With the exchange another set of pleasantries he left without a proper goodbye.

The wedding day came sooner than expected. She barely had the time to count days. And as the elders of the family discussed, it was small with no engagement ceremony but with just close family members and friends. Y/N did not object, actually, no one asked for her opinion except her husband. But it would make a great fuss if she were to bring her opinions to light. Moreover, she had more serious things to worry about. If Byakuya came to know that she still had her virtue intact, it would be just a matter of minutes for her before Byakuya puts all the puzzle pieces together to get the whole picture. He is a cold, clever man. So, mercy was the last thing y/n expected from him. Her previous husband, her not-so-dead husband fled with his lover because the rules and the customs would have kept them apart. And, if Byakuya had any clue of what happened at backstage he would turn the world upside down, at least he was expected to do so.

Y/N was finally able to catch up with her life when she was in the carriage with her new husband. There was no time to decipher him with all the people around. This night was going to be her first proper wedding night but Byakuya made sure that there was no chance of it at all. He did not seem tired, or interested in her. She could not pin any moment where she caught him looking at her, not even once. Dread and relief filled her at the same time. By now it is okay to accept that she was the problem, not her fate, or him. Perhaps, she can keep the secret of her previous marriage enjoying the little freedom she has left in her life.

The next morning was gorgeously sunny. When Y/N came downstairs she already found Byakuya on the other side of the dining table, with his breakfast and a rolled paper on a tray by his side. God knows, what news it holds? At least, not the one she was anticipating.

“I hope you slept well.” Byakuya broke the stifling silence that had made her think of all the possibilities that could end her life thinking of the contents of the letter. “I’ve already informed the staff to be here. Yesterday was an exception. Hope you did not have much problem without the staff not being around. They will be here at your beck and call, so you do not— was he mocking?

“That’s very kind of you.”

“Is something bothering you?” she nodded letting him know that there was no reason at all with a flimsy smile on her face. She could barely focus on eating the food. Byakuya noticed it too. “I thought you needed time.” his voice was coaxed with an apology. Of course. Byakuya would give her the very thing he was deprived of, for it had been his necessity too; Y/N’s glance switched to him and then to the food again. He did not look sorry though.

“As I said, That’s very kind of you.” She grabbed the tea cup and was ready to leave since there was no one to keep tabs on her etiquette and as such. If he wanted the marriage to work, then why should she keep trying all the time? all these hopes and anticipation would be the death of her if not the secret she is carrying with her.

“There will be a social gathering. On March 14th. You’re expected—She looked over her shoulder as the sound of the dragging chair made it to her ears. Byakuya hesitated before he spoke the rest, “I would like you to come with me.”

“Sure.”

Sure. Byakuya had his reasons to act the way he is acting. He was aware of the details of her marriage. Before visiting her, he made sure to do a background check and he did regret it when he recognized her previous husband. He had seen him in the land of the living. And, now he was not sure where exactly her loyalties lie: to him or to the man who left her. For now, he had no time to think about it. There were some grave matters that he had to handle.

Crest-fallen, a week prior to the gathering Ginrei Kuchiki took his last breath. There were lots of preparations and ceremonies to be done, but at the same time he could not afford to miss the meeting and so it all came down to y/n who had to shoulder most of the responsibilities while Byakuya just paid a visit to the meeting.

Time flew by as if someone were stealing it from them. Even though they spent the days under the same roof, Byakuya barely had a chance to speak to her or make things right. By the time he came to bed, she had already fallen asleep or was too tired to stay awake. Byakuya has been a light sleeper anyways. He often waited for her to be perfectly asleep so that he could slip under the same covers as hers. Y/N was too disappointed and angry to notice the small changes in him, in his gestures. Not that she tried, she did but Byakuya brushed her off every time. It was such a slow poison for her. She had made up her mind not to consummate this marriage unless they were asked for a child but fate never goes along with the human will. It opposes, always .

“You’re early,” Y/N said as Byakuya entered the room. Seeing her in a flimsy nightgown he looked away from her. She scowled when she noticed him looking away.

“Could you wait for me? I need to refresh myself. I want to talk about something.”

Ah! finally, it's happening. She gave him a simple nod and slipped under the covers. Perhaps it was about an heir, or shifting into a different house or maybe a visit to other families or so; Y/N had no idea that her secret was going to slap her in the face.

“I see. How long have you been aware?” Y/n asked still facing away from him while Byakua was seated on the bed. “Since before our marriage.” Y/n turned and sat folding her legs, covering herself so that he does not have to look away while talking. “Ah! That’s why the cold shoulder.”

“No. No. I was just—

“Just thought that I might have a secret lover too?

Byakuya closed the gap a little, “Well, do you?”

“Does it matter?”

Does it matter? Of course, it does. Byakuya did not respond not yet but Y/N could see his jaw tightening, muscles stiffing at the mere possibility of a ‘yes’.

She interjected, “Yeah! Thought so.” and left the bed, his sight heading towards the bathroom but Byakuya grabbed her hand and pulled her in his lap. She gasped loudly at such a sudden swift motion but more than so his bold voice declaring something so unexpected something so unbelievable that it turned her on more than it should. “Yes. it matters. It matters to me because I would be bothered, so much that I’m incapable of bearing the thought of losing you.”

Her breathing was heavy since not only his deep raspy voice stilled her motion but also made her thinking come to a halt. Byakuya slipped his hands under her gown earning a huge gasp as his lips touched her bare shoulders. Her body responded quickly, she arched feeling his cold and calloused fingers on her breasts, pinching her areola. “Tell me,”, his voice coated her skin with goosebumps, “do you want this, with me?” She turned her face, eyes holding the tears back, blurring her vision. She was burning with desire. How could she not?

“Yes.” Byakuya’s hands traveled down to her core, rubbing gently on her clit over the cloth. It was already damp. She could barely process all of these while his voice hinted impatience again, “then, tell me where you involved with him, in his act?”

Her grasp on his thighs tightened as she struggled to stand up on her feet. With all the dim lights around it was not of any help. Byakuya pushed aside the fabric and touched the outer lips with more pressure than before. “Do you not want me?” Y/N has torn apart between keeping her self-respect and submitting her to him. She had tried countless times to get his attention, tried every lewd way to lure Byakuya that made her feel like nothing but a cheap whore.

“Do you not want me?” she managed to utter thinking of all those nights when she had to go to bed feeling like a mistress rather than a wife.

Byakuya verbalized holding her in his embrace tightly. “Yes. I do. I really do.”His voice reeked of agony and loneliness, his touch was so desperate yet so gentle. Y/N read him wrong, he was not playing games anymore.

—

⌗ :: @sailewhoremoon @massivementalitynut @tokyometronetwork @underratedcharactercorner

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