#troupe backstory

[pannacottababy]

HXH CHAP 397 SPOILERS!!!

This is inspired by @masakuterarr's drawing of Uvogin and Sarasa for Christmas. I heard this audio and thought of the two.

I even wrote it in a sticky note and hoped I won't forget. While I usually would do this digitally, I think the raw strokes of a pencil really gives it personality, vulnerability and all that.

I would like to properly draw Sarasa one day, she's such a lovely character.

[turtledotjpeg]

fanart for a collab challenge, of an adorable fic by @ladycrescentvenus ft. Uvo and Machi hair time!!! 💕💕💕

come join me in weeping over big bro Uvo and the origin of Machi's hair scrunchie..........🥺

plus bonus scribble of young Uvo learning how to scrunchie for the first time :)

[ddarker-dreams]

i'll never not find it hilarious that kurapika could only endure like five minutes of chrollo speaking before doing this to shut him up JFGKSJFSL

[evilqueen05]

chro is like: “nooo, it’s my precious, i won’t give you this tape”

[timeskip]

Gon, an actual 12 year old: How can the Phantom Troupe love each other but kill other people??? How can they be human beings who grieve over deaths close to them instead of heartless killers, when they're doing massacres and not thinking anything of it???

What some adult shounen watchers will get from this: The Phantom Troupe must not have genocided the Kurtas for their eyes after all 😔 They're too nice and caring to have done that for anything less than revenge against the Kurtas 🙄

[abybweisse]

Ch206 (p4), My family would never

After Theo asks what the teachers think of their honed aptitudes, Doll finds it funny...

...and says they are imitations that can never surpass the real thing/originals. She's aiming for Mabel, and we see reactions from Finny, Oliver, Susan -- I officially hate her now -- and Snake. Snake looks like he might rush to Mabel's aide.

As he moves to help Mabel, Snake is thinking about his circus family, and how he can't believe they would really kidnap kids and harm them (or put them in harm's way).

I've rearranged these next two panels, just so you can see them in the original layout. Doll strikes out with the broken glass, but instead of hitting Mabel, the blow lands on the left side of Snake's neck.

This gash must be very deep, because it's spurting blood out, not just oozing. Also, blood quickly starts to spill out of his mouth, suggesting not only has the carotid probably been cut, but so has his windpipe and/or esophagus. He still seems to be in disbelief that she would lash out against a child like that, but he can barely get the words out.

When Doll realizes what she's done, she freaks out in a panic, because he's the one person there she would never wish to harm.

But would she do anything necessary to try to save him? Is there anyone there who has the skills to help him at all? If the top students and Finny could band together and combine their knowledge and skills to help him, would Doll agree to a truce to let them? Would she force Susan and other staff to stand down and stay out of the way... or even help? Too many questions here... and I think it'll be too late for Snake by the time anyone can figure out what to do.

We haven't seen a reaper in this assignment, that we know of. But this doesn't mean Snake will live. There could have been one there the whole time, but they stayed in hiding, unlike Ronald at the sanatorium, etc. Sometimes the reaper organization gets alerts of unexpected deaths, too... when they happen, right? It would be nice to get a shinigami pass, but I can't expect it to happen for him.

Since I'm now expecting Snake to die from this wound, we might get some backstory for him, either as memories before he dies, or as cinematic records when a reaper shows up. Since we know how he joined the Phantomhive household, we might just get earlier memories, like more details from before/when he joined the circus.

Take note that not once this chapter has Snake spoken for his snakes; it's all been for himself. I should think that his flashbacks or memories would be speaking for himself, or perhaps for himself and the snakes.

Poor Snake. 😞 😢

[ciceroprofacto]

Well-Played Instruments

Fable, Castling, Counseling, Exercises, Moving out of Mulligans, Ring of Gyges, Built the Fire //  The Offer (next)

Whitehall Slip, October 1775

“Do you have any idea where you are?”

Hamilton’s head was a flashpan of pain. Too abruptly conscious for comfort.

It was Troup’s voice, coming from somewhere behind him like the proverbial angel on his shoulder. Though, when Alex turned his head to look at him, the daylight brought on a wave of inescapable nausea that had him flopping back over the edge of the retaining wall to vomit into the murky harbor. So, perhaps he was the devil instead.

Contact with the planks under his shredded palms and Troup’s steadying hands over tender bruises brought on the memory of Dawson’s fists. The night returned in the physical feeling- the fight, the flight, the beating on both ends.

That had been the point, he supposed.

“It’s nearly noon," Rob said. "We have drill today, and you’re a fucking mess.” He was dragging Alex up by the elbows as soon as the retching ceased. “What the hell were you thinking?”

There was no thinking beyond the fleeting anticipations of blows. Blocking a punch over his forearm, dipping beneath the next swing, side-stepping a kick- straight into the next fist. Dawson’s knuckles cracked through Alex’s cheek, rattling his teeth and sending him sprawling into the containment wall and the arms of the crowd. 

Laughing and jeering over jaunty fiddle music and the stomping of the crowd upstairs, they were raucous. Sailors, smiths, guilders, merchants, the occasional gentlemen looking only somewhat out of place. Fighting Cocks wasn’t precisely respectable, even in its front-facing cockfighting business. 

But betting on birds was far more-respectable than the show that took place below ground, so it was a general understanding between the men that came to watch the daily fights that no one should speak of this ring. Newcomers were rare which meant the audience was familiar with him, was rooting for him- at least at first.

Alex had been doing quite well in the dailies’ bracket. Now, he was paying dearly for an early slip in this match, and from the fall in the crowd’s tone, they knew it. He was losing. Half his remaining earnings off ‘The Farmer Refuted’ riding on a single pot and he couldn’t imagine anyone worse to lose to…

“I squared you from the first step you took in here,” Dawson was bobbing on his toes and disparaging while Alex regained his footing. “Snooty schoolboy blowing his allowance on the punishment he needs cause his papa doesn’t give it to’em. Don’t worry, I’ve got’chu.”

Alex raised his fists back up to his face. His vision was swimming, the crowd roiling like a sea of fabric and faces and limbs. He was getting distracted with unfocused eyes. They locked on a mop of curly blond hair- hair that was familiar, but out of place here. The figment was hunched over the fiddle as the tune he was hearing took on a complicated trill, it couldn’t be, so- Alex dismissed it as his imagination, focused on Dawson, narrowly dodged another swing, then-

“Quit dancing with me!”

He had no desire to do that. These were probably the only dancing lessons he’d ever afford. Another dodge, another miss.

“Face me like a man!”

“Then hit me like one!” The taunting was unnecessary in a fight that was practically decided, but it got the crowd riled on Alex’s behalf. There was nothing men loved more than watching brutality, particularly when it was well-earned, begged-for, something they could comfortably laugh at.

Dawson took another swing and missed again, but this time, Alex took the chance to land some taunting little slaps to the back of his neck as he twisted around his guard. “Fucking fairy!” A growl of frustration, “Fighting cocks- more like taking them,” he spat.

Alex’s step stumbled at that. It was enough for an elbow to crack into his cheek and Dawson was spinning on him while he was stunned. A fist like a brick landed against his ribs and his feet buckled. A leg swept them out from under him.

He rolled to his knees, but before he could get up, fingers were tearing his head up by the hair.

“Y’should’a gone to St. Paul’s- I hear they’ll fuck you when you lose.”

Alex didn’t know he could tackle a man to the ground without a conscious thought.

He didn’t feel himself do it.

But, he found himself there, knees digging into Dawson’s ribcage, scalp stinging from tearing his head away, throwing punch after punch, crunching the brute’s nose in, boxing his ears viciously, the temple, the eyes, striking again with knuckles that came away wet and bloody, numb to pain- inflicting as much as possible. Dawson bucked wildly and tried to elbow his thighs or roll him off. Alex’s fists squished in the eyes, cracked on temples, sliced on teeth and jagged edges of a broken nose. He was aiming to mangle and break and hurt-

Arms were grabbing him from above, tearing him away, kicking and flailing to the tune of the violin’s crescendo in third position, notes high and flying in a solo that no wharf-working fiddler would know. Just as urgent and wild as it was a distinguished display of technical prowess. Something that belonged in the gilded halls of Liberty Hall. Something Kitty or Brockholst might spend a few hours on each day with their tutors and never truly learn like this.

He should’ve been more concerned about being dragged from the tavern than about the identity of the fiddler for the night, but for a moment there, he had thought- and the song- he was sure…

Rob’s arms really were unfairly strong. Like a plank of lumber or a stone column, solid and stable as they hauled him down Broad Street. All their drills and training had only enhanced them. Given his response to their previous flirtations, Alex was pretty sure squeezing and admiring would not be well-received.

Rob was angry.

Alex could feel it, like a scab he couldn’t help but scratch. “Mulligan could’ve come got me himself if he was worried,” he said.

“You think Mulligan sent me?”

A listless shrug, “He knew about the match- makes sense he’d send someone.”

“I sent myself,” Rob hiked him higher over his arm to fix Alex’s position and earn a hiss of pain. “Nick, Sam, Henry, and I have all been out looking for you since dawn after you didn’t come home last night. Nick’s been beside himself.”

It suddenly felt terrible, leaning on Rob, so Alex put his feet under himself and picked up his weight as well as he could. Something in his hip felt wrong, maybe broken. “I was fine.”

“You were drowning in a puddle of your own vomit.”

There was nothing to say to that.

“I know you’ve been under a great deal of pressure. I know that my actions did nothing to alleviate that,” Rob said. “But, there’s no excuse for this. You want to be an officer- to assume control of men- make their orders and have their lives depend on you. You want to lead them into battle, yet right now, you’re failing to control even yourself.”

At a bar, two blocks south, Alexander nursed a glass of whiskey and pressed the most over-charged block of ice he’d ever held, wrapped up in a cloth against his cheek.

“Between us, there really are men at St. Paul’s that would fuck you.”

Hamilton knew the voice that came from his left, but he didn’t move the ice to look. He could feel eyes appraising him. Perhaps a mockery of flirtation. Perhaps not. The point was to make him question whether he was being seen too clearly. To intimidate. He hadn’t been able to look for Cleary before being dragged from the Fighting Cocks, so he hadn’t been able to confirm that it had actually been him that he’d seen during the fight- much less heard playing violin.

But, he knew this was a cat-and-mouse game they were engaged in, so the visit only mildly-surprised him. He didn’t want any surprise to show, so he waved down the barmaid for another cup of whiskey. She brought one over and glanced between the two of them. Alex paid for it and slid it to his side, still without looking. Cleary made sure to brush their fingers together as he took it.

“I knew that was you playing Vivaldi,” Alex said. "Winter, right? Little early for that."

“It's my favorite of his seasons. You showed me your passion tonight, I thought I’d show you one of mine.”

“How genteel.” There were questions that Alexander needed to ask, but he knew better than to take this friendly exchange as it was offered. Such things were never actually on offer with people like them.

“A good fight, though you had me worried in the middle.”

It was not a good fight.

A display of poor sportsmanship that left Dawson’s face swollen, black and purple, one of his eyes half-blind, Alex would be barred from the ring and remanded. Back to balancing bets at best- if he could manage to stay on at all.

But, there was a more-important issue at hand.“You’re a regular to Fighting Cocks, but the dailies are invite only,” Alex said. “Should I be flattered that you worked so hard to get in or worried that you already had a connection?”

“I think you’ll worry whether I tell you to or not,” Cleary said knowingly. “But, I hope you’ll believe it’s my intention to flatter you.”

An unsurprising answer, given the agent’s modus operandi thus far.

It was only two nights ago that Cleary had caught Alexander trailing him and Alex had given the flimsiest possible alias. It had earned a laugh and two slender fingertips dragging under his jaw to tilt his face up in a move that was both irritating and oddly-arousing- then even more irritating because of it. Cleary had smiled at him with brilliant long teeth and said, ‘good luck then, Cope,’ before disappearing.

So the game began, and Alexander was usually a contender at this game, but in this case- with this agent, he had been unable to dig up anything of use- where he was from, how he got to New York, why the Sons of Liberty still tended to trust his information when every lead he had provided ended up wasting time and resources. Weapons caches that were ruined upon capture, spoilt powder, emptied coffers, absconded traitors. Regardless of his obviously-intentional futility, every source Alexander had interviewed about Cleary were positively charmed with the boy, half of them were more than charmed- obviously itching to fuck him given the chance.

So, it was easy to see that this flirtation was not special to him, and that made it less concerning. What was concerning was his greeting. Half-drunk and sore-headed, Alex forgave himself for the slow realization: if he’d been the fiddler, there was no way Cleary could have heard what Dawson said to him in the ring.

Either he had gotten the story off someone else who had been at Fighting Cocks tonight or- “You told Dawson to say that?”

The question earned an impressed chuckle, and Alexander almost wished he hadn’t said it. Cleary’s fingers were touching the back of his hand over the cloth, gentling the ice away from his cheek. Rivulets of cool water trickled down his neck until he dabbed them away gently, trailing the ice to his exposed collar then up to the back of his flushed neck. Alexander hadn’t felt particularly underdressed for the purposes of visiting the docks. Between the dailies and the warmth inside the public houses here, there was little need for the overcoat and hat of a gentleman. But, he felt abruptly naked and intimately informal.

“I figured I’d show you what I can do with an instrument,” Cleary said loudly enough to hear over the din of the bar, but no louder. “Considering how intent you are to fashion yourself into one.”

“An instrument.”

One edge of his clever-bowed lips curled, “Violin specifically is my specialty,” he said. “Requires excellent dexterity in the fingers, don’t you agree?”

Those same fingers were massaging a bruise in Alex’s jaw. Too soon to be soothing, and instead causing a pleasant ache. Alex grabbed his wrist tightly, “We’re not talking about your violin.”

“Aren’t we?” Cleary said, leaning much closer now. “I assure you, Cope, I could play you just as well.”

“I’m not a violin.”

“No, I know. You’re a Pen. Maybe someday a Sword…”

Somehow, that was worse than if he’d called Alexander by his real name. The idea that this stranger might know so much about him. Between this and his flirtations, it was too much to take. “We were talking about Dawson- you told him to insult me in the ring- to accuse me of being a sodomite. For what- my attention? You already had it and you knew that. So, what purpose did he serve you?”

“Serve me?” Cleary’s brows were pinched in the first genuine reaction he’d worn.

Alexander quickly cataloged the expression and released his grip on his wrist.

“I’d hardly think of a person that way. Call him my instrument if you must, at least I can make music with an instrument. But, people are not tools. Unless, like you, they think it of themselves first.”

“Like me.”

“Oh, dear boy, I mean no offense by it,” Cleary dabbed the wet cloth to his temples and then brushed the loose hairs behind his ears in a motion that was far too familiar.

Alex gave in to the impulse to jerk his head away- finally.

Cleary kept his face steadily neutral. “It’s a virtue to be useful, if that’s what you choose.”

It was. Years ago- perhaps decades. Alexander had decided on this path for himself, to give himself over to his causes and make himself useful to the people of his country. He had to believe that he had chosen this because the alternative was intolerable. “So, showing me what you can do with a violin was meant to do what?”

“Demonstrate my fingering mostly.” Cleary grinned and let his eyes trail down Alexander’s exposed collar like a lascivious touch. “Show my appreciation for a beautiful instrument...make it sing for you.”

Alex knew that acknowledging this tactic was exactly what Cleary wanted, but he couldn’t just take this quietly. “You think you can seduce me into being useful to you?”

“No, you’re quite spoken for, I suppose.” The agent rose from his seat and set the ice cloth on the bar top in front of him. He picked up his glass, poured the remainder of the whiskey in Alex’s cup, patted him between the shoulders and said, “A shame though. Good night, Cope.”

Alex didn’t know when he’d stopped drinking, but he doubted that he had. He didn’t know when or how he’d made his way to the waterfront to pass out in the street, but it was a miracle he hadn’t fallen into the harbor or been carried onto a ship and taken out to sea for his labor.

His pockets were empty and he was definitely still drunk. It was the only thing that kept him from arguing against Troup’s earnest assessment.

“I can’t take you to drill like this.”

If Alex tried to respond, he’d probably vomit again, so he leaned his forehead against the side of Troup’s head gratefully and let his most loyal friend carry him home.

[lavampira]

it’s a massive potential curveball to d’alia’s canon (again)

but I’ve been thinking of changing her aiming job to mch instead of dnc 🫣

[anticanonhearts]

Please don't take any more from me.

[okami-iris]

♠️🌸💖Queen of the Circus💖🌸♠️ Hisomachi Fanfiction🌹🌙💮

~| This is a Hisomachi oneshot (This is NOT cannon but this DOES include some cannon things if you wanna know what's cannon and not go look it up or ask me 🥰🌸💖🎐🍡✨💮 PS I know this story's really cheesy dumb and wholesome it's only cuz their kids when their older it's a completely different story lol🌹💘🌙🦋) [PG-13 ✨Backstory AU✨ again not really cannon ok enjoy💖🌹🎐🌸]

______________________________________________________________Machi POV: I was out on my nightly walk when I heard there was a circus in town (city it's meteor city) so me being the interested, little, 9 year old, girl I was. I decided to go take a SMALL look so no one would see me.

(She then hid behind a old car and watched the show. as much as she wanted to go home and sleep because she's a LITTLE kid she didn't she was hooked it was so Interesting to her🌹 the show was almost over the last act was on! it was a...... red haired little boy!?)

Machi POV: oh a little boy what can he do?

(The boy then performed a lot of AMAZING magic tricks)

[Ok I actually don't know what kinda stuff he could do back then so let's just say magic for fun ok?😅💖🌸] {PS it looks like this art NOT mine ⬇️⬇️💖🌸🌹}

(After the show little Machi was tired because it was 11:00pm that was late for her and her friends might get suspicious so she decided to take the short cut home)

[BTW her "Friends" is the phantom troupe they just did call themselves that yet]

(The short cut led her behind the tent/caravan or whatever the circus was performing/traveling in. she was doing good on her way till she saw something...)

Machi POV: huh oh it's that boy.... I'll just sneak past him..oh a apple yum I'm hungry....==.... maybe I'll steal his another apple....

(She saw the boy with red hair sitting in the back looking at the stars eating a apple there was one more apple beside him and she was gonna steal it because she was hungry. she sneaked up and hid behind some trash she was about to grab it when she heard a voice)

Boy: hey do you want this apple?

Machi: ahhhh!!!! w...w...who are you!?!

Boy: my name is Hisoka^^ what's yours?

Machi: m...m..Machi...

Hisoka: so do you want this apple?

Machi: uhhh......I...I..(she never took things that were offered to her she felt it was a sign of weakness but this time was different)

Machi: oh ok sure (*grabs and sits down next to him*)

Hisoka: Machi was it? nice to meet you^^ (*she just looks at him*)

Hisoka: so how old are you?

Machi: I'm 9 you?

Hisoka: ohh nice I'm 12^^.... so did you like my show? I saw you in the back behind the car^^

Machi: oh uhh.. (she thought she was hiding good and no one saw her)

Machi: yeah you're impressive...

Hisoka: your not to friendly are you? it's not your fault though you don't know how to be~

Machi: Hey don't jump to conclusions!! (he was right though)

Hisoka: oh sorry...I just don't get the chance to meet people...

Machi: I... it's ok...I really liked your tricks..///(*she was embarrassed*)

Hisoka: really thanks!!^^✨

Machi: no prob..///

Hisoka: Hey wanna be friends?^^

Machi: uhh...ok sure==////...

Hisoka: ohhh thank you!!^^~

Machi: but wait don't you live in this traveling circus you'll just have to move again besides I never really had a friend before....///

(the troupe is like family not friends)

Hisoka: well true but we'll be in town for two more days and we'll come back!^^ don't worry meteor city is one of our top places to visit~

Machi: I wasn't worried!!/// and ok we'll be friends.... I guess...

(*they ended up talking for awhile about all kinds of stuff*)

Machi: oh heck it's 1:00am!!! I gotta go!!

Hisoka: oh uhh ok..hey can you come back here tomorrow at 10:00?Machi: ok I will...bye... Hisoka..///

Hisoka POV: she said my name!^^~///

(and just like that Machi ran home as fast as she could. but little did she know he was forming a crush on the beautiful pink haired girl he just met and even she Machi Komacine was forming a small crush on the clown boy she just met although she'd never say it)

{Art NOT mine ☁️}

{|♠️🌸🌹TIME SKIP🌹🌸♠️|} ××× Tomorrow Morning ×××

Feitan: hey Machi wake up..

(*Sleepy Machi raisins her tired hard of her ripped up pillow*)

Machi: huh...Oh Fei hi what's up...==..

Feitan: Where were you? you were gone all night...what were you up to?

Phinks: yeah what were you doing?

Machi: uhh I....uhh......///..

(*she didn't want to say she spent the night with a clown boy she met From the circus it was embarrassing*)

Chrollo: come on guys don't push her she'll tell us when she's ready^^

Machi: thanks Chrollo///

Chrollo: no problem^^

[×× Later that night ××]

Machi: ok I'm off on my walk bye.

Pakunoda: bye Machi^^💖

(*Little Machi ran to the Circus and watched the show till the end*)

Hisoka: Oh Machi!!~^^//

Machi: hi clown boy

Hisoka: clown boy....////Cute I like it~^^ oh I got you something!

Machi: huh what is it?/// (*Hisoka hands her a caramel apple*)

{🎐Just a cute drawing NOT mine 🎐}

Hisoka: it's a caramel apple^^ I've been saving it since I was in the last town but I wanna give it to you^^~

(*Her eyes lit up like they never have before as she held the apple she said Something she DID NOT say often in the happiest tone*)

Machi: Thank You it's so beautiful I've heard about them but I've never actually seen one thank you!!^^💖 (*but honestly she's still a child*)

(*They spent the rest of the night talking eating and having fun*)

Machi: oh it's getting late a gotta go!

Hisoka: ok take care dear Machi^^~

Machi: ok I will (*then she stopped walking and froze*) tomorrow is your last day here isn't it?///....

Hisoka: uhhh yeah it is....but we'll come back!💖

Machi: ok see you tomorrow I wanna show you my favorite spot's!^^

Hisoka: ok I'm excited to see them^^~

{|♠️🌸🌹TIME SKIP🌹🌸♠️|} ××× Tomorrow Afternoon ×××

(*Machi was heading out on her walk early because she wanted to show Hisoka her favorite spot's to play hang out and look at she doesn't have belongs so showing him her favorite places is her way of thanking him for the yummy caramel apple*)

Shalnark: Machi where are you going?^^

Machi: uhhh no where.......///...///

Chrollo: uhh Machi I need you to help me do some stuff sorry^^

Machi: oh uhh ok no prob^^

(*Btw by "STUFF" he means VHS stuff you know. read the manga^^*)

(She helped Chrollo but it took longer then she expected it was now 11:00 she was LATE even though she knew she couldn't show him her spots she could at least see him one last time. after a lot of running she got there and saw him standing in the back where she first met him it made her sad to think this was.....the end)

Hisoka: huh? oh Machi!!!💖 I thought you weren't coming!?^^~

Machi: yeah I was busy....///.....sorry..

Hisoka: it's ok I just appreciate you coming at all everyone always thinks I'm just a freak like a toy or something...

Machi: well....I don't think you're a freak infact I think you're really cool!

(*These words made Hisoka smile a small but beautiful smile*)

Machi: so tonight is it you'll be gone tomorrow...

Hisoka: yeah but and even if it takes YEAR'S I'll come back to you!^^

(*Machi blushed and sat beside him*)

Machi: t.. thank you...///...sorry I couldn't show you my spot's..///

Hisoka: aww it's ok maybe next time^^~

Machi: yeah...so what time do you leave?

Hisoka: uhhh 8:00am

Machi: ok wait for me I'll come tell you goodbye!

Hisoka: aww it's ok you don't have to do th-

Machi: No I'm gonna do it!

(Machi had never been wanted before everyone left her she was alone)

[Not the troupe they're family]

Hisoka: well ok then^^~

{|♠️🌸🌹TIME SKIP🌹🌸♠️|} ××× Tomorrow Early Morning ×××

(*Machi was woken up by Pakunoda*)

Machi: huh... what's wrong Paku?==

Pakunoda: well you were crying in your sleep are you ok?

(*Machi just realized she was crying she wasn't sad but tears fell from her eyes then she remembered her dream it was about her Mother she didn't wanna remember anymore besides she had to go say goodbye)

Machi: oh yeah I'm fine thanks Paku^^

Pakunoda: well if you're sure...

(*then Machi looked at the time 7:30am*)

Machi POV: oh no I'm gonna be late!! all I want is to say goodbye!(*Machi got up and ran as fast as she could she ran faster and faster and finally she saw the caravan leaving she looked around but didn't see him then she looked to her left and saw him sitting looking at the rising sun and for the first time in her life she felt this feeling like her heart was being squeezed*)

Hisoka: oh Mac-(*he was cut off by her hugging him*)

Machi: Bye clown boy^^

Hisoka: bye little Machi I can't wait to see you again^^

______________________________________________________________

[And as they parted ways they both found something they never felt Love and it was a beautiful and sad thing but they had hope even if they had NO idea that they and feelings for one another. but the question is would they meet again?🌹♠️🌸]

{If y'all like this I'll continue the story!💖☺️ actually I'm gonna anyway because I have plans!!✨🎐 anyway if you have any questions let me know no hate please!🥰💮 ok bye bye I hope you continue reading my cheesing story's 😅🌙🌹till we meet again!🌸}

Thank you💖💜♠️

[bowling-with-ham]

me approximately 3 days ago, deep in my goes wrong era, listening to the mischief makers pod and getting to ep 5: who the FUCK is harry kershaw

me today one full season of MMNI later: alright mischief makers pod tell me everything about my new best friend harry kershaw

[taniushka12]

screaming crying throwing up i wanna draw an oc comic but i gotta go out like Right Now Q_Q

[timeskip]

God of COURSE Morena wouldn't work with the normal Heil-ly mafia after she became their boss. They're the ones who have helped perpetuate her abuse. Also, in addition to taking the place of the real Morena and losing her own identity for her own goals, she also took on the role of the Heil-ly leader, turning it into her own. But via contagion she's constructing a different violent system, going after everyone other than her own people in the name of destroying the whole world.

This is of course exactly how the Phantom Troupe were initially, but the troupe bonded together later and were a very harmonious group even if they enacted violence (including genocide) against people weaker than them. They hated the world, and they saw Meteor City as the only people they had to protect, so they turned their backs against everyone else. Morena, on the other hand, completely let go of humanity as a whole. There is no mafia "balance" with Morena, she's playing outside the system by taking over the Heil-ly and changing its relationship with the royal family in order to destroy it; meanwhile, the troupe are doing extreme violence while keeping the system already in place (the troupe aren't fixing Meteor City, they're still letting Meteor City children go into the mafia/families like the Zoldycks/etc in order to keep those relationships strong) because it seems their main goal is keeping the most depraved dehumanization (ex: hunting Meteor City children) away from their people via fear and control of the narrative around Meteor City.

Both of these ways of doing things are flawed, harming the people of the out-group (the in-group being Morena's "children" and Meteor City/the troupe itself, respectively) but I'm interested to see where the two groups diverge--as we see from Nobunaga's conversations with the mafia, it seems like part of it is that the troupe doesn't want the same massive amount of destruction Morena wants anymore, their goal changed from actively wanting to kill the out-group for the sake of violence against those who wronged them, but they still don't care if people unrelated to them die while the troupe steal and murder for their own gain/pleasure.

Morena and Chrollo both have these identity issues and roles that they gave themselves. Chrollo is clinging to this identity as the head of the Spider even as he spirals deeper and deeper into misery, losing his friends and trying to sacrifice himself for an ideal Spider that may never exist again. And Morena... I can't even begin to guess where her arc is heading right now. She's discarded her old self to dive fully into being Morena Prudo and owner of contagion. Both the troupe and Morena are shaped by their dark circumstances but have come out the other end with a desire for destruction, one that forces their leader to discard their "self" in order to become the parent/head.

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

some Chrollo things i found/realized on my rewatch + reread of hxh

- he has REALLY bad posture. in the PT base during yorknew, when Chrollo is reading a book, he is literally hunched over and his back is at like a 45 degree angle🥺

- he’s very smug and cocky. after his fight against Zeno and Silva, he asks with a smirk to Zeno “if we were in a fight, who would win, you or me?” and chuckles knowingly when Zeno replies. during Chrollo vs Hisoka, Chrollo says that he is “100% sure that i am going to win”

- his personality switches depending on who he’s with. with the troupe, he’s logical and stoic—never losing his temper. when he’s with Hisoka, he’s much more relaxed and friendly + smiles much more often. when he’s with someone older, he’s respectful.

- he doesn’t seem to mind celebrations/parties. he’s seen drinking with the troupe in a manga panel after the auction.

- he seems very self aware of his handsome appearance, as he lured Neon in + most of the abilities in his book are from women.

- in terms of physical strength, Chrollo is 7th in the Troupe —above Bonolenov, Nobunaga, Shalnark, Pakunoda, Shizuku, and Kortopi, making him MUCH MUCH MUCH stronger than even superhumans such as Gon and Killua. (I love this fact for some reason)

- he had many similarities to Gon and Kurapika as a kid. (read Ch. 395-397, which is the Troupe backstory. it has a lot of cute baby Troupe member scenes🥺)

- he has a habit of covering his mouth with his hand whenever he is thinking deeply about something or connecting the lines.

- he knows a shocking amount about the Kakin Empire (in the manga), even more so than some of the Princes of the Kakin Empire.

- he seems to have a habit of smirking whenever something is going according to plan or when something went according to plan. he also just seems to enjoy smirking in general.

- his favorite color seems to be purple due to much of his outfits being some sort of variation of purple.

- in official arts + mobage cards, he seems to have dark circles under his eyes. in the yorknew city arc, he is also the only troupe member who didn’t sleep during the entire arc, meaning that he seems to have some sort of insomnia.

- in mobage cards, Chrollo seems to have a habit of fidgeting with his clothes. (pulling off his tie during the Christmas mobage card, playing with his hat, etc,.)

- he is very athletic, considering how at the end of yorknew city when he was left nen-less on those plateaus, he managed to climb down and find shelter all by himself.

- he is also very rich, since on average, every Zoldyck assassination costs around 1 billion—Chrollo managed to afford to assassinate the 10 Dons, meaning 10 billion Jenny.

- Chrollo doesn’t seem to care whenever someone is being disrespectful towards him or the troupe.

- Chrollo seems to have a particular fondness for suits, as he is often seen wearing a suit in official arts

- Chrollo often wears clothing that covers much of his body

- Chrollo seems to have the traditional values of a chivalrous man, meaning that he respects women quite a lot and makes sures to keep them safe. Chrollo made sure to catch Neon in the most respectful way when she “fell” (he literally could have just grabbed her by the arm and it would have been fine), he made sure to keep Pakunoda + Machi + Shizuku in the same team during yorknew (there were no men in their team), and during the Chrollo vs Hisoka battle, none of the female spectators (or even the commentator) were harmed.

———

AUGHHHHHH CHROLLO ILYSM PLEASE LIVE UNTIL THE END OF THE SERIES😭🥺😫❤️CHROLLOOOO UR MY BBY AND ILYSMMMMM😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺🥹🥹🥹❤️❤️❤️😫😫😫💕💕💕

[uniformbravo]

i love tsurune i love tsurune i love tsurune i love tsurune i

[yinyuedijun]

THESE RESULTS R CRAZY? I voted for the accountant option which means they technically both tied at exactly 44.9% LOOOOOL