CW: Disturbing Imagery/spoilers For Bsd

i'm so normal about gear 5 luffy (no)

Hey hey hey! I'm not sure if no one has mentioned this, but I haven't personally seen this kind of thing, so here you go just my random ideas regarding the twins.

What drives me so crazy is the fact that in chapter 81, Tsukasa says after Yashiro returns, " Nene-chan and I are the same! ". I know that Tsukasa probably said that because Nene said he liked Amane, but for some reason I want to believe that there's more to that phrase than just sympathy for Amane. For example: In chapter 15, after Tsukasa's first appearance, Hanako emotionally pins Nane to the floor, but after a couple of seconds, he gets scared and recoils, apologizing. And for some reason, it seemed to me that by pinning Nene to the floor, Hanako felt that he was in the same position that he was in when he killed Tsukasa, which is why he was so scared and depressed.

Those are two little moments that I noticed, and in fact, after that I started to think that maybe the incident and the reason for killing Tsukasa would be revealed directly through Hanako and Nene's interactions, and Idk why, but it just inspired me.

Also, before I get it out of my head. When Amane gets sick, Tsukasa turns to the monster under their house, sacrificing the beasts to get what he wants. The monster or demon, whatever, acts just like Hanako-san, and I'd venture to guess that it was the very first form of Hanako-san even before the ghosts became more human (in terms of something along the lines of the devils that were in the village in the no.6 mystery arc), but my main association was that Tsukasa also begins to adopt the trappings of the no.7 mystery. He also offers to grant Amane his wishes, just as the creature under his house offered to grant Tsukasa's wishes, and it seems to me that if Amane wasn't meant to become the no.7 mystery, then Tsukasa was originally destined to become the no.7 mystery, while Amane committing suicide inadvertently ascribed such a fate to himself? Also, Tsukasa disappeared for an indefinite period of time on Amane's birthday, so I think the fact that he's been living and raised in a circle of baddies for a while could also explain his behavior now.

That's all I wanted to say for sure now. If it was inappropriate, just ignore it, pls.

This phrase from Tsukasa is a mystery to many people. I've seen some people saying that Tsukasa compared himself to Nene because he also loved him "romantically" - when they talked a lot about the theory of the abuse that Hanako suffered from his brother. (one of the old hypotheses)

Hanako is a very emotional boy, despite not saying how he feels he shows it a lot (even against his will) and that's exactly what happened. Hanako killed Tsukasa in that position (apparently) so when Tsukasa reappeared for the first time on the roof, Amane reacted desperately, he was sweating cold, his eyes were petrified, he swallowed hard and started crying. This boy was panicking, I wanted to hear his thoughts at that moment.

He remained motionless and didn't react when Tsukasa appeared, Yashiro threw herself forward to defend Hanako, when Tsukasa left Hanako finally reacted. He didn't see Yashiro there, he saw Tsukasa. Then he pulled her hard and threw her against the ground thinking it was Tsukasa. When Yashiro talks to him, Hanako realizes that she wasn't his younger brother, so he apologizes and leaves.

Apparently, Hanako hadn't seen Tsukasa in a long time, so when he reappeared he simply panicked. He didn't expect and didn't want to meet Tsukasa again, he killed his younger brother, and what does he do when he meets him again? Attacks in the same way as the first time. The problem is that he was so shocked that he didn't react immediately, he reacted later. If he had had an instant reaction, he would have thrown Tsukasa against the ground and they probably would have spoken, although Hanako made this sudden movement, he didn't attack using the knife, he kept looking at Yashiro (imagining it to be Tsukasa) while crying.

So you're right, Hanako reacted that way thinking it was Tsukasa (this just shows us how traumatized he is, because every time he meets Tsukasa he's still in shock, even if it's not the same as the first time he finds him again) Even Kou noticed this.

So let's compare.

Interesting, isn't it? Another interesting thing about this position is that Hanako uses it frequently with Yashiro, did you notice?

If you pay attention to this scene in chapter 39, you will notice that he did the same thing

So we return to Tsukasa's phrase "we are equal" this phrase was not thrown around for nothing. I've seen some people saying that Nene would have the same ending as Tsukasa because they two are really similar. Tsukasa and Yashiro have a very similar behavior pattern in some ways, so this sentence scares me a little. What if Hanako who loved his little brother so much and killed him, did the same for the girl he loves so much? The big question is, why?

So you suspecting that interactions between Yashiro and Hanako might reveal why he killed his younger brother makes sense. The problem is that if you really follow this path, it means that Yashiro will have the same ending as Tsukasa (maybe?)

WOOOOOOOOW I LIKE THIS HYPOTHESIS SO HARD XD

What if Tsukasa was the one who was supposed to become Hanako-san? This is perfect. We don't know what the creature looks like, even if it doesn't have a human appearance, generally it should have a shape, but it seems it doesn't. That's because she was inside Tsukasa, and apparently she also lives inside Amane.

There is a bond between the three, we know that the twins were ordinary humans, and the creature beneath the house (and the abyss) is seen as a God, as it grants wishes. But let's talk about Hanako-san from the legends.

The legend of Hanako-san has several stories about how she died and how she appears when summoned. I did a little research on this, although this legend is very similar to the legend that exists here in my country (almost identical) I noticed that some things could match your theory.

Let's skip the details that you already know about Hanako-san, so they say she could have died from taking her own life, from murder, a bomb, or from being sexually abused before she died.

Taking your own life fits with Hanako-kun's story, ok, let's continue, of all the ways it can be invoked, there is one that matches your hypothesis.

"Hanako-san, after being summoned, can respond with a hoarse voice, as if she were possessed by a demon, because in fact it is not a girl, but a supernatural person who tries to deceive you with the voice of a child, and she says "I'm here" and when you open the door you are faced with a monstrous creature"

If we combine these two parts of the legend "he took his own life" and "whoever opens the door is a demon" this theory makes sense. Hanako-san is a legend that changes over the years, so I can't know for sure if this is the most popular version (because I found many, many)

And the wishes, Hanako-san doesn't grant wishes in any version. The authors are intelligent, and they wouldn't use the legend for nothing to make it easier to predict hahaha

But don't worry, JSHK is like that, you fit a piece here and realize that it doesn't fit right with other pieces of the story. Remember that we are dealing with temporal paradox so this is common.

The twins' connection with Hanako-san is mysterious. It's true that it's possible that other supernaturals could take the 7 Mysteries' place by defeating them, but no one talks about the original Hanako-san. Kou already knew that it wasn't a girl and he also doesn't say if there was another one before Amane. He is from a family of exorcists, even if he wasn't born at the time, family members would mention it, right?

So we have Hanako-san and the God under the house. Are they the same creature? It's a possibility. But if Amane took Tsukasa's place, why does the legend of Hanako-san as a girl still exist? Amane has lived with this creature since he was 4 years old, if he had become Hanako-san from the legends, it wouldn't be Hanako-san, it would be Hanako-kun. Yashiro is surprised to discover that Hanako-san is a boy, which means that the information does not match.

But calm down, don't rule out the hypothesis yet, what if God used someone else? A girl, Hanako-san, and then for some reason Amane took her place?

This is very interesting.

We don't know if Tsukasa would be Hanako-san, the only thing we know is that he was going to stay in the red house and he only came back when he found out about his tragic future, so why would he become Hanako-san? He did not intend to return.

So even if Amane stayed alive and became an adult, Tsukasa wouldn't come back. He said that, he said he knew how to go back but he didn't want to. He only came back because Kou and Nene said that Amane was going to kill him in the future.

Tsukasa was in the red house with the creature and other supernaturals for 6 months, then he returned home. (These 6 months were outside the house, we don't know how time moves inside the red house)

So Tsukasa was missing for six months after his and Amane's anniversary before deciding to return.

Hanako-san probably has a more direct connection with Amane than with Tsukasa. We don't know the relationship Amane has with the creature, your hypothesis remains valid because of this point.

What if the God is Hanako-san and Amane joined him and became Hanako-kun for some specific purpose (because he grants wishes like the creature, I mean, almost) We don't really know how Amane grants wishes, he and Tsukasa don't seem to use the same method as God. The creature magically does what you want instantly and charges a life for it.

Not the twins, they do it on their own, and there is not always the possibility of them being able to do it (even using supernatural abilities). What they ask for in return is random, meaning they don't ask for anyone's life.

You remembered Aoi, didn't you? Yashiro's wished to extend her life, that power is not in Amane's hands, but who can accomplish this? God, of course, which is why Aoi is used as a sacrifice.

It's no wonder that number 6 was doing the same ritual that he did in the village that sacrificed young girls, they sacrificed directly to God. Amane accompanied Aoi on the train, he wanted to take her to the other side since number 6 couldn't.

So Amane asked God to fulfill Yashiro's wish (it's a hypothesis)

It's very interesting to think about the possibility of the God being Hanako-san, but we still need more information to be able to better fit this theory. We know that mysteries change with rumors, so this could have happened to Hanako-san too, but don't you find it curious that the rumor about Hanako is that he is a girl and even though he has this rumor he is still a boy?

Because you know, when a rumor changes, the supernatural is forced to change, whether it's their personality or appearance. Why was it different with Hanako? Why didn't he become a girl?

It's an interesting question.

So, I think your theory is very good! I really liked it and I will remember it! For now it's difficult to fit her into the story now, but we don't know in the future! Never discard a hypothesis until it is proven to be invalid. Let's wait for more information to arrive before we can draw more conclusions.

I'm still going to evaluate your theory further, so I may develop it better in the future and talk about it again. If you find more evidence in the future, you can share it with me if you want :3

I hope you liked it, thanks for the aks!

Here’s my Ranboo art from the Valentine’s Day stream :]

Be nice to him he just got dumped :,,(((

@dire-kumori has an au where Scooped Mike gets time-travelled to before CC and Liz's deaths, and he's filled with such blind rage and self-loathing upon seeing his younger self that he kills young Mike over and over again in a time loop that young Mike barely even understands. Guess who wrote a one-shot for it? (I'm also tagging @serenefig and @cloudwhisper23 bc I feel like you'll be interested in reading)

word count: 3,715

“Have fun with your friends’, brats. Don’t even think about coming back until morning unless you want to spend the night outside, ‘cause I won’t bother unlocking the doors for you.”

Cold lines of metal pressed grooves into Mike’s back as he leaned against the front door threshold and waved his siblings goodbye. His voice resounded in sharp echoes across the tree line; he spoke a bit too loud considering that his little siblings were only a few feet away, but then again, that was the point. 

You never knew what things were lurking in the shadows, listening and lying in wait for the moment they could get you alone. Sometimes, however, you could use that to your advantage.  

Michael’s gaze roved over the tree line as his siblings turned their backs on him and walked down the driveway. The trees surrounded their entire house in a near-perfect circle; shadows crept beneath the trees’ gnarled, grasping finger-like branches. As the sun slumped further down in the sky, the shadows drew steadily closer and closer to the house like a tidal wave of darkness begging to be held back no longer.

The eldest Afton’s jaw clenched as he dug his teeth into his gum with even more ferocity. Slowly, he pulled his Foxy mask from the top of his head to cover his face. 

He didn’t have to be afraid with the wicked smile and sharp teeth covering his face. It was an assurance that Michael could be strong and brave even when– no, especially when he was all on his own, just like the pirate fox he felt so much for. 

If a monster wanted to chase him down, then so be it. But as long as Mike had his mask on, the monster wasn't the only dangerous thing around.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Electricity shot through every nerve ending in Michael’s body. The jolt of adrenaline made every hair stand on end, and heat roared through his veins like wildfire as Mike crouched behind the garage wall with his fingers white-knuckled and half-numb against the cool metal of his bright red bat.

Each breath passed his lips at a crawl. Everything around him seemed to blur and fade to gray as Mike focused his entire being on the harsh slam of rubber soles coming closer and closer. 

A million ghostly aches, sharp and dull and stabbing and pressing aches of a million undeaths, all sparked to life with increasing intensity as the monster drew closer and closer, but Mike pushed away the memories of aches and pains assaulting his limbs.

He only needed to get one good shot in. 

He smelled the bastard long before it got close. It was something like the curdled cup of milk that Mike had found in his room last week, the maggot-infested animal carcasses he and his friends would poke at when they found them on the side of the road, the stank of rotten eggs– all those putrid smells and more clinging to the bastard's skin in an eye-watering stench that made Michael’s stomach churn and his throat burn on principle. 

Mike's heart hammered in his chest, almost to the same beat as the footfalls chasing him. 

There was a flurry of movement as the sicko ran past Mike where he was crouched out of sight behind the wall. 

The reaper's footfalls quickly slowed as though somehow aware that it had been duped, but Mike was already moving. 

The decaying monster didn't even have time to turn around before Mike jumped forward and slammed his bat into the back of its head. 

His years' worth of practice hitting baseballs did nothing to prepare him for the vibrations that rocketed painfully through his arms and shoulders and all the way down his back, nor for the sickening crack of a human skull shattering under his hands. 

The monster went down, but Mike could only stand there even as a voice in the back of his mind screamed at him to run. Vomit burned his throat at the curdled blood and the dark red and purple slimy skin that clung to the metal of his bat before it fell to the ground with a wet plop beside the monster. Thick droplets of the creature’s ice-cold blood dribbled down Michael’s face and smeared against the teen’s lips as he stood there in shock.

Boney claws wrapped around Mike’s ankle. The sharp pain of bone digging underneath his skin jerked Michael’s mind back to awareness, and he brought his bat down on the thing's wrist just before it had time to yank him to the ground. 

The fingers didn't let him go even after the impact of Mike’s bat ground the compact bones along the creature’s wrist into fine dust held together only by moldy stretches of tendon and skin. 

Michael brought the bat down on the thing's arm again and again and again before its other hand finally snaked around and grabbed hold of the slippery dark red metal.

Michael yanked the bat closer, cursing himself for giving the reaper a chance to rip his weapon away. But the reaper didn’t; instead, it used the momentum of Michael’s action against him.

Mike's vision went red with pain as the handle of his bat flew back at him and slammed into his lips with enough force that Mike heard his plastic mask crack on his face. 

Except Michael realized a split second later that it wasn’t just his mask that had cracked. Something sharp and coppery exploded in Mike's mouth and the teen choked on shards of his own teeth as the fractured remnants slid down the back of his throat. 

The thing's fingers were still locked around his ankle, and the moldy strands of tendon and skin keeping its bony purple hand attached to the rest of the monster's body snapped apart as Michael stumbled backward with tears in his eyes and dark red blood dribbling down his chin. He was too stunned by pain to react even as the monster peeled itself off the ground with one arm; its other, handless appendage hung limply against its side in a mess of unnatural angles kept together only by thin layers of rotting skin. 

Its neck snapped down to look at its obliterated arm, but somehow, the creature looked almost bored as its empty eye sockets focused on the mangled stretch of flesh and shattered bone attached to it. The monster’s remaining fingers latched around its broken arm before ripping the twisted limb from its shoulder with enough force that its entire body jerked at the motion. 

The shattered lower part of the arm flopped to the ground in a pile of putrid skin, and the reaper's head snapped back up and its empty eyes focused directly on Michael with its fingers still grasping the remains of its upper arm. 

"You're going to regret that,” it whispered in the grinding croak reminiscent of a bag of gravel and forks shoved down a garbage disposal. 

"M-Make me." 

Michael had wanted to sound stubborn and strong, but the words cracked in the air and passed his lips in nothing but a whimpering stammer as he tried not to gurgle on his own blood. 

He should have ran the second he had gotten a hit in on this– this stupid son of a bitch. Things were– Everything was already going so wrong. 

The creature lurched at him. Michael didn't have time to run or stumble away; he barely had time to raise his bat. 

The reaper still had the upper part of its broken arm in hand, but Michael didn't notice the sharp end of broken bone protruding from the severed arm until the jagged point had already buried itself inside Mike’s shoulder. 

Two pinpoints of light sparked to life in the monster’s eyes, and its gaping black eyes looked directly at him as Michael screamed. 

The reaper ripped its broken arm out of Michael’s shoulder and aimed for the teen's heart. 

Michael just managed to ram the end of his bat into the reaper's neck at the last second. 

It was a weak blow. The monster’s close proximity didn’t give the teen enough room to maneuver the long bat and Mike's arms and wobbly legs trembled dangerously, worsening his ability to strike. But by some miracle, it was enough to make the monster stumble a few steps back, though it grabbed onto the teen's bat and ripped it from his hands as it stumbled.

Michael didn’t fight to get the bat back. He turned on his heel and ran. 

The teen’s hands clawed at his own shoulder as the monster’s footfalls echoed behind him once more. 

Tears stung Michael’s eyes as he remembered that bloody, grimy, disgusting bone piercing into him. God only knew what kind of germs that thing had put into his system– what if the wound got infected? 

Not that an infected wound would matter if Mike didn’t keep himself alive and out of the creature’s way.

Michael forced the pain and panicked delirium away. He had to focus; this was the important part. 

The reaper was just behind him, following at a pace closer to a walk than a run. 

Somehow, that was so, so much worse. The monster didn't have to run to keep up with him, and it knew it. It would always catch him in the end, like a hunter casually strolling after the blood trail of a wounded deer. The creature would never tire nor stop chasing him, and it was just a matter of time before Mike got too tired to go on running from it.

‘No. No, no, no– not this time.’

The monster’s slower pace did make this more difficult, though. Michael couldn't move too fast. He needed to always be just out of the creature's reach, or he would risk the monster getting distracted or frustrated and trying to cut him off by going a different route.

This would have a way better chance of success if Mike could keep the monster right where he wanted it. 

Michael dashed into the house from the garage and raced up and down hallways and from room to room. As he ran, he ducked and jumped periodically to avoid tripe wires, avoided stepping on any rugs, and danced around jagged pieces of metal and nails and blades that had been embedded into the hardwood floor. 

He really couldn’t afford to mess up this part. Any wrong moves or missteps would have to be avoided at all costs. But with any luck, the monster hunting him wouldn’t be so careful. 

As he raced up the steps, he made sure to skip the fifth step down. But as he reached the top, it slowly dawned on him that things had been unusually quiet. As far as Mike was aware, the monster never seemed to react much to pain, but there was a distinct lack of surprised grunts or infuriated yells, or whirring gears and mechanical parts snapping as traps were set off. 

Chest heaving as he panted, Michael turned and looked down.

The reaper was standing right there at the bottom of the steps. It looked exactly the same as it had when Michael had fought it in the garage, like it hadn’t set off a single trap during the chaotic chase. 

Its head was tilted back, staring at the kitchen knives and heavy hooks used to hang endoskeletons that Michael had stolen and hung from the ceiling over the steps. They were hung high enough that Mike could race up and down with no problem, but the taller monster should have gotten a nasty surprise as it came after him with that single-minded focus it always seemed to have. 

Instead, the monster looked up at the trap with an annoyed expression before meeting Michael’s eye. 

Keeping its head ducked low, the reaper placed its foot on the first step. 

Michael’s heart leaped into his throat and he stumbled down the hallway, struggling to breathe properly through all the panting and the blood still flooding his mouth and throat. 

How was that thing still walking?! Mike had set death traps up in every inch of this house; it just wasn’t possible that the reaper could have stumbled through the house without setting a single one off! 

The thing on the steps was still way, way too quiet. Had it seen him skip the fifth step down?

Mike turned for a split second to see if the reaper had gotten to the top steps yet. 

A sharp pain sliced through Michael’s throat. 

That single second of distraction had been enough time to throw several hours of analyzing the layout of every trap he'd set up in this house out the window. 

The sharp feeling wrapped around his entire throat as his own momentum forced him further into the trap. The wire tightened, and suddenly Mike’s feet left the floor entirely and he slammed against the ugly red wallpaper. 

Hurricane was a small town. One where there wasn't much to do, especially when your father worked at the most interesting place in town and you had to spend nearly every day there for hours on end.

Michael and his friends had explored every nook and cranny and forgotten place there was to find in the town. Including the abandoned railroad tracks in the surrounding woods.

Those tracks were so old that the rusty spikes meant to hold them together could often be found lying on the ground around the tracks, ripe for the taking; even the ones still riveted inside the old tracks could mostly be removed with some determination, and the sharp, rusty, six-and-a-half inch long spikes were attractive prizes to a group of rowdy teens with nothing better to do. 

Michael had stored a lot of them away in his closet over time. 

Sticking the rivets through a slab of plywood and nailing the plywood plank into the wall upstairs with the sharp ends facing outward had been a lot of effort, just like a lot of the traps he had spent the entire day building, but Michael had deemed it a worthwhile venture because he had been certain those spikes would be able to do some damage. 

And Michael had been right. 

Michael had put six or seven of those spikes through the plywood, but when Mike slammed into the wall, he only felt one big blast of pain set his back on fire. He didn't even have time to scream before a gush of blood and vomit slid through his throat, staining his shattered teeth and turning his inhuman screech into a quiet gurgle. 

The wire stayed wrapped around Mike's throat and cut deeper as his feet–- suspended by the railroad spikes and wire too high for the teen to reach the ground– thrashed wildly in the air. 

Michael’s vision went black as the thrashing jostled the spikes, widening the holes in his back and sending the sharp, rusted rivets deeper into his flesh until some of them scraped against his ribcage. 

Gasping, Michael sucked in one shaky breath after another and tried to ignore the desperate need to claw himself upward. His throat and lungs were filling with liquid, but he wasn't drowning in water. There was no surface he could rise above to make it all stop. 

What a strange sensation it was to drown in your own hallway without a drop of water in sight.

Bloody fingers clawed at the wire around his throat, but he couldn't pull it away any more than he could clear his airway. 

Salty tears leaked down Michael’s face in a futile attempt to clear away the blood still staining his chin. Between one blink and the next, the red wallpaper and family picture frames in front of the teen were replaced by two hollow black eyes and putrid purple flesh flecked with varying shades of green mold that peeked out of the crusty white bandages holding its splitting skin together

The monster cocked its head at him, and Michael finally got a good view of the damage he had dealt it earlier. The side of its head had caved in like deflated basketball or a sandcastle under an oncoming tide, and yellowish-white shards of bone jutted out from the jelly-like mixture of blood and decaying muscle dripping from the cracks in its head. 

The white pinpoints of its eyes flashed up and down him curiously, watching the blood flow down Michael’s body and drip into an ever-widening pool under his feet. The thing's lips had long ago rotted away, but Michael realized as raspy, cracked laughter spilled between the thing's dried-out, wrinkled gums and bared yellow teeth that the monster was smiling at him.

"You bastard!" More blood dribbled down Michael’s chin and gurgled inside his throat. Mike tried to spit it all out like this was nothing more than his morning mouthwash routine. "You bastard!" 

Floorboards moaned under the reaper's feet as it took another step closer. Michael flinched as it did so, and immediately bit back a cry at the white-hot pain of spikes shifting inside his back and scraping against bone and organs.

"That looks like it hurts," the reaper rasped. 

Michael’s tears stung as they leaked into cuts on his face from his earlier fight with the monster. He had felt hot and sweaty before from all the running and fighting, but now his fingers were iceblocks against his neck as he struggled with the wire digging into his flesh. A frighteningly cold, bone-deep chill cut into Michael's form, and the child trembled as he struggled to breathe through the blood and the pain. 

He couldn't run. Couldn't fight. The monster– the reaper– was going to kill him now. 

At least the pain will stop, a voice whispered in the teen's head. 

A quiet sob shook the young teen's core. He needed the pain to stop so fucking much, but he didn't want the pain to stop– he wanted to live. 

But if he was going to die, at least it would be on his own terms.

"Go ahead," Michael growled. "Jus– Just g-get it over with." 

The creature cocked its head at him again, like it had been too distracted watching the blood seeping from Michael's form to bother listening to what he had said. 

"Just d-do it!" Michael sobbed. "K-kill me, you– you wrinkly, p-puss-filled ball-sack! Come on! Just– just– get i-it over with and kill me!" 

The reaper took another step closer. "No." 

Blood-shot eyes locked onto the reaper's gaping eye sockets. "Why?!" 

Wasn't that the point?! Wasn't that what this– thing– had set out to do, over and over and over?! 

The reaper's hand settled on Michael’s chest. Mike didn't have the energy left to flinch or be wary. He only met the reaper's eye in pained exhaustion.

But then the reaper pushed. 

Michael screamed as his prized railroad spikes dug deeper into him until his bloody back was finally pressed flush against the wall. 

One of the railroad spikes went all the way through Michael’s chest and stabbed into the reaper's palm, but the monster didn't seem to notice. It ripped its hand away before latching onto one of Michael’s wrists as the teen frantically tried pulling the reaper's arm away from him. 

"You want to know why?" Its voice whipped against the air in a wild hiss.

The dull hallway light gleamed off the dark red liquid coating Michael’s skin as the reaper shoved the teen's blood-stained hand in front of his face before it snarled at him. "Because no matter how many ways you try to run or fight it, you will always bring this hell down on yourself with your own hands. You did this, Michael." 

'You're insane,' the teen wanted to say, but there was too much blood in Mike's throat for him to talk, or even to breathe. He tried shaking his head at the thing, but the wire was starting to cut frighteningly deep inside his throat. Michael could only stare at the monster in front of him with wide-eyed horror and beg for it to just end this, like the bastard was supposed to do when it caught him. 

The reaper released Michael’s wrist, and the teen's arm fell limply down to his side. 

He should do something; he should fight. But his energy had been draining away with every second he spent hanging on his own death trap, and there was so little left inside him. 

He couldn't even lean away as the reaper lifted its only hand, moved its fingers around the edge of his mask, and traced the curve of his head with an almost gentle touch. 

The reaper's broken fingers paused on a string looping behind the teen's head. It latched onto the string and pulled, ripping the Foxy mask off of Michael’s head. 

The reaper's teeth ground together as it glared down at the bloody mask before letting the plastic slip from between rotten fingers and fall to the bloody floor with a wet and heavy thunk. And without hesitation, the reaper slammed its foot down on the only thing that had ever made Michael feel strong. 

Hearing the sharp crack of plastic as the monster decimated the mask and shattered Foxy's maw into pieces wrenched a hopeless sob out of the teenager's chest. 

The reaper stayed still. It didn't move further away, nor did it move any closer.

It only watched as Michael struggled to free himself from the trap one last time before finally giving up. 

Michael struggled to gulp down another shaky breath through his sobbing but was rewarded only with more blood in his lungs and pain searing every nerve ending until even the most minuscule movements lit every cell and nerve in his body on fire. 

Through it all, the reaper stood back and watched with a smile. 

Not wanting to see the monster's smug, rotten face or the blood staining his own body anymore, Michael could do nothing but close his eyes and wait for the moment when the last drop of blood would drip from his body and all the pain would finally end.

(Michael had the sinking feeling that death wouldn’t be that easy of an escape.)

This was never made public because it wasn't necessary, not to mention it wasn't a full turn around, but yesterday we posted a design of what kid!bbros would have looked like in the pilot's artstyle.

Two funfacts, one is that Boris is slightly dirtier because it's considering the labyrithn memory of him travelling on the snow, making it so he has a red nose from the cold and the end of his pants are stained with melted snow. The second funfact is that Bendy's height is the exact same as from his adult ref.

Chapter 1073 really had this:

And I am so happy.

Since practically the very beginning the World Government has been presented with their negative side.

Captain Morgan was The Marine at the beginning but we quickly learned he was not a man of the people. He was only in it for himself, and was 100% willing to 1-lie and go back on his word and 2- step on anyone to keep a strangle hold on power. (A great foreshadowing for the whole WG throughout the series and their void history). This was also the first time we saw the WG flag and I looked at it, thought about the fact I was committing to watching a Pirate Show, then I tilted my head sideways about 45 degrees:

Look at that hidden Skull and Cross Bones design. It’s like some modern deconstruction that is supposed to be edgy and simplified.

There are some exceptions in the Marines (like Bell-mere or Garp or Koby or Tsuru-even Smoker and Tashigi) but for each of those they also have Morgan, the rat faced man from Arlong Park, Spandam, and this guy in 1073 (off the top of my head). Plus all that went down for the Buster Call. They (and the actual CD/World Government) are only around for what they can get for themselves. They do not care about the people. They do not care about who is hurt. They fit the classic idea of a pirate; liars, prying on the weak/defenseless, selfish, lawless, cruel.

And these are the characteristics the WG pushes on the pirates we know. (Kidd was known to kill people, Gold Roger hoarding treasure/wealth, Pirates send many scrambling, the legal slave trade, not to mention all the reactions people in the East Blue and early Grand Line had when they learned about Luffy being a Devil Fruit eater) But the narratives are opposite. Yes Luffy is all about personal desires and governments are all about imposing rules on society (in theory to complete a just social contract). But! Luffy has a strict moral code and rules he follows and makes sure his crew obeys (dreams, not beating people up for nothing, making sure they know HE is the Captain) These Marines actively disobey the laws they are supposed to be enforcing and don’t care about the chain of command they are under to the point where characters shouldn’t even trust their words.

Plus there is the rest of the 1073 story:

Can I just point out that Whitebeard’s island is not part of the World Government, and so, like Wano or Fishman Island, you would think that the Marines have no actual jurisdiction. These people the Marine is asulting/terrorizing are actually the ones with rights, and the Marine is invading. But he doesn’t see it like that, and his overwhelming use of force only helps him impose his own will. Besides, the WG would never tell him to not. (Especially after WB’s death, and that they would probably consider the island “hostile.”)

and thinking about WB, the fact that his (redesigned) flag is similar to the WG flag makes me think there is an argument that WB was more of a fair government to his people, actually upholding a just social contract for those under his protection.

tldr; The World Government/Navy are “Just Like Pirates” and were established to act as such from the beginning of the story. Their Flag and many Marine characters help push this point time and again in the story.

Jax’s “acting normal” especially in his conversation with Pomni has about 2 explanations I’d say:

1. First and most simply- He doesn’t have the energy to torment someone in that moment. Just the easy conclusion to come to from watching the episode normally.

2. Second- That’s the “real” Jax, not the tormentor. Probably brought out by the realistic setting, and addition of consequences or “punishment.”

After Gangle asks Caine to make “punishments” and when he’s sent to his… “training” he looks genuinely disturbed and even afraid.

…Which is definitely something we haven’t seen from him yet! And then we see him act normally for the rest of the episode! This makes me think the Jax we see in the Circus, the bully, the asshole- He only acts that way because he is, or believes he is free from the consequences it would have in the real world. Having little reaction to Ragatha’s state, asking Pomni how she’s doing, and then following an order reflects how he acted in his real life, as an average or unassuming person.

Whether the jerk we usually see is a genuine expression, some kind of “mask” to hide something, or, most likely in my opinion, both. That’s not how he acted in his real life.

This episode is focused on Gangle, focused on her masks. But I think the theme of masks expands over the episode as a whole. Especially with Jax and Ragatha- Ragatha speaking her mind thanks to the “stupid sauce” (lol) and Jax being pushed into acting normal and almost even friendly. The opposite of what we’ve seen of them but undeniably realer or hidden versions of themselves.

That's his trend

#Chuuya

Certified Zany

He has an ACME rewards punch card, and look at how nice that signature is!