I fucking hate Oda. He made me like a fucking bum. A clown. A side character in my own fandom.
I don’t even know who I am anymore. I used to walk into threads with pride. I used to quote Shanks lines like gospel. Now I hesitate before typing. I second-guess every post. Every time I hype this man, I feel like I’m setting myself up for a public stoning. Oda made me like this. He did this to me. He made me fall in love with a character who’s basically a god in lore and a ghost in story. He made me believe I was rooting for the top dog—but I was just rooting for a poster.
A fucking poster.
You know how embarrassing it is to have arguments with Mihawk fans now? They just quote manga. I have to quote feelings. I have to say shit like “He’s moving in silence” or “Oda’s saving him for later.” Do you understand how humiliating that is? That’s not powerscaling. That’s copium poetry. That’s projection-based martial arts. I'm not debating anymore—I'm pleading. Every thread is me on my knees begging the narrative to prove my bias wasn’t a delusion.
Oda made me fall for the illusion.
He made Shanks feel like the one. Like the final answer. Like the endgame. This man had more foreshadowing than some arcs. More presence than main villains. And for what? So he could show up, act cool for two panels, and disappear like a Tinder date who ghosted after the first compliment?
This isn't a character. This is a fever dream.
He was Roger’s chosen. The Haki god. The war stopper. The one man the Gorosei themselves whispered about.
And now?
Now he's Mihawk's former coworker. That’s his title now. His whole legacy reduced to “Yeah, he used to spar with Mihawk back in the day.” You don’t understand how much that hurts. I spent YEARS telling people that Shanks was him. I dropped dissertations on the symbolism of his coat alone. I quoted volume covers like scripture. I treated film Red like it was canon. I made jokes about Green Bull getting PTSD. And now I see Mihawk fans winning with facts, feats, and canon, while I’m sitting here with vibes and trauma.
Oda wrote me into a corner. He made me invest in a ghost. He gave me Hypecoin and told me to hold.
And I held. I held like a damn fool. I told myself the stock would rise. That the payout was coming. That one day we’d get the flashback, the 1v1, the real feat that finally shut everyone up.
Instead I got a sword named Gryphon and a whole lotta nothing.
You know what it's like to be in a thread and someone says "Shanks is overrated" and you can't even fight back anymore? Not because you agree—but because deep down, you KNOW you're the one who overrated him. You're the problem. Oda didn’t betray you. He just never gave you anything to begin with. And you wrote the hype yourself.
I hate what this story turned me into. I hate the way I defend someone who won’t even swing his sword on screen. I hate the way I scroll past Shanks haters like a battered spouse pretending it’s fine. But most of all?
I hate Oda. Because he made me love a bum.
You want to know what Shanks is now? He’s cool wallpaper. That’s it. You buy the aesthetic, you enjoy the Haki particle effects, and then you log off and accept he’s never been in the conversation. He’s just a prop for Teach’s rise. A narrative smoke grenade. He’s the One Piece version of an NFT—expensive, hyped, and completely fucking useless when it matters.
I'm done. Oda, you win. You broke me. You didn’t just make me lose—you made me embarrassing. And for that? I will never forgive you.
Shanks fans: I still love you. But let’s be honest—we’re not a fandom. We’re a bunch of drug addicts addicted to a phantom
I don’t even know who I am anymore. I used to walk into threads with pride. I used to quote Shanks lines like gospel. Now I hesitate before typing. I second-guess every post. Every time I hype this man, I feel like I’m setting myself up for a public stoning. Oda made me like this. He did this to me. He made me fall in love with a character who’s basically a god in lore and a ghost in story. He made me believe I was rooting for the top dog—but I was just rooting for a poster.
A fucking poster.
You know how embarrassing it is to have arguments with Mihawk fans now? They just quote manga. I have to quote feelings. I have to say shit like “He’s moving in silence” or “Oda’s saving him for later.” Do you understand how humiliating that is? That’s not powerscaling. That’s copium poetry. That’s projection-based martial arts. I'm not debating anymore—I'm pleading. Every thread is me on my knees begging the narrative to prove my bias wasn’t a delusion.
Oda made me fall for the illusion.
He made Shanks feel like the one. Like the final answer. Like the endgame. This man had more foreshadowing than some arcs. More presence than main villains. And for what? So he could show up, act cool for two panels, and disappear like a Tinder date who ghosted after the first compliment?
This isn't a character. This is a fever dream.
He was Roger’s chosen. The Haki god. The war stopper. The one man the Gorosei themselves whispered about.
And now?
Now he's Mihawk's former coworker. That’s his title now. His whole legacy reduced to “Yeah, he used to spar with Mihawk back in the day.” You don’t understand how much that hurts. I spent YEARS telling people that Shanks was him. I dropped dissertations on the symbolism of his coat alone. I quoted volume covers like scripture. I treated film Red like it was canon. I made jokes about Green Bull getting PTSD. And now I see Mihawk fans winning with facts, feats, and canon, while I’m sitting here with vibes and trauma.
Oda wrote me into a corner. He made me invest in a ghost. He gave me Hypecoin and told me to hold.
And I held. I held like a damn fool. I told myself the stock would rise. That the payout was coming. That one day we’d get the flashback, the 1v1, the real feat that finally shut everyone up.
Instead I got a sword named Gryphon and a whole lotta nothing.
You know what it's like to be in a thread and someone says "Shanks is overrated" and you can't even fight back anymore? Not because you agree—but because deep down, you KNOW you're the one who overrated him. You're the problem. Oda didn’t betray you. He just never gave you anything to begin with. And you wrote the hype yourself.
I hate what this story turned me into. I hate the way I defend someone who won’t even swing his sword on screen. I hate the way I scroll past Shanks haters like a battered spouse pretending it’s fine. But most of all?
I hate Oda. Because he made me love a bum.
You want to know what Shanks is now? He’s cool wallpaper. That’s it. You buy the aesthetic, you enjoy the Haki particle effects, and then you log off and accept he’s never been in the conversation. He’s just a prop for Teach’s rise. A narrative smoke grenade. He’s the One Piece version of an NFT—expensive, hyped, and completely fucking useless when it matters.
I'm done. Oda, you win. You broke me. You didn’t just make me lose—you made me embarrassing. And for that? I will never forgive you.
Shanks fans: I still love you. But let’s be honest—we’re not a fandom. We’re a bunch of drug addicts addicted to a phantom
