About “Hunter x Hunter” in a few words:

Hunter x Hunter is a popular anime and manga series created by Yoshihiro Togashi. The story follows a young boy named Gon Freecss as he sets out on a journey to become a Hunter, a skilled individual who searches for rare treasures, explores uncharted territories, and hunts down dangerous criminals. Along the way, he encounters various allies and foes, including the infamous Chimera Ants, a species of insect-like creatures with powerful abilities and a thirst for human flesh. The series explores themes of adventure, friendship, sacrifice, and morality, as well as the complex nature of power and human psychology.

Meet the Chimera Ants from Hunter x Hunter

Bihorn

Okay, Bihorn is this delightfully vain, almost theatrical Chimera Ant — thinks of himself as a warrior-poet or whatever, very into honor and aesthetics. He flexes and preens and then stomps you because of course he does, but there’s a weird sensitivity under all that bravado (like he notices flower arrangements? don’t ask). He’s loyal to the swarm in that dramatic, melodramatic way, and you kind of believe he’d write bad romance poetry between battles. Oh and for some reason I imagine him keeping a polished pebble he calls “the only truthful thing” — don’t ask me why I see that.

Welfin

Welfin is that small, unsettling one who smiles too much and has a laugh that makes the room colder, like he’s part child, part conspiracy theorist puppet. He’s petty, territorial, and loves rules — but his rules are… twisted, and he’ll get weirdly philosophical about stamp collections or stones. There’s a sneaky intelligence beneath the chaotic mask, and he can go from giggly to cruel in the time it takes you to blink. Honestly, he gives me the vibe of someone who hums nursery rhymes while planning paperwork for mischief.

Colt

Colt is the soft-spoken, tragic type who tries so hard to be decent in an indecent world; earnest, steady, protective — the “big brother” energy but not loud about it. He keeps people together by just being sensible and kind, which is its own kind of heroic, honestly. He fumbles with leadership sometimes, like he’s still figuring out where to stand, and I always picture him fiddling with a worn pebble or whistle while thinking. Somehow he’s both the calm and the ache of the whole arc, the steady anchor with a million quiet scars.

Cheetu

Cheetu is the hyperactive gremlin of speed, cocky, loud, and forever impatient — imagine a kid who discovered adrenaline and never let go. He loves showboating and making everything into a race or stunt, and will sigh theatrically if you don’t appreciate his flair (dramatic, obviously). There’s also this weirdly nerdy side where he wants recognition more than anything, like a puppy who learned how to monologue; I swear he once collected hats in eleven different colors. He’s funny and aggravating and you mostly just want to slap him and give him a cookie at the same time.

Leol

Leol is slick, charming, and simmering with opportunism, the kind who slithers into situations with a smirk and a cigarette that may or may not be real. He’s both loyal and self-serving, like a diplomat who secretly wants to run the place, and he’s neurotic about names — probably keeps a tiny notebook full of them. He has this odd musical rhythm in the way he speaks, like he hears a soundtrack that none of us can, and also he licks pencils? Not consistent, but that’s the vibe. He’s the kind of presence that makes you doubt your choices and then buy into his plan anyway.

Zazan

Zazan is all raw soldier energy — fierce, tactical, almost maternal to her underlings but with teeth; like a battle mom who would throw you into the front line and then patch you up after. She’s proud, direct, and weirdly sentimental about small things (ribbons! trophies! a single mismatched sock I’m sure she treasures). There’s a feral elegance to her: scarred, practical, and capable of sudden kindness that surprises you more than her anger. Also, big soft spot for tea? I can see her demanding a proper cuppa mid-siege.

Neferpitou

Neferpitou is the cat-like, unsettlingly childlike guardian who can switch from playful petting to soul-crushing violence with a single tilt of the head. They’re curious and eager to learn — like, disturbingly devoted to the King — and there’s this terrifying mix of innocence and absolute efficiency in how they operate. Pet them? Maybe don’t. They probably knit? No, wait, they’d probably use the yarn to tie you up. The cute-with-claws energy is real and never not terrifying.

Menthuthuyoupi

Youpi is the walking embodiment of temperamental tectonic plates — massive, emotional, and prone to sudden, catastrophic mood swings that rearrange the scenery. He’s protectively stupid-smart: not subtle, but deeply, almost childishly invested in defending what he cares about, and when he roars it feels like mountains answering back. There’s an odd creative streak — he might arrange rocks into patterns when calm, like a giant with a weird hobby — and then explode into a mono-syllabic rant five seconds later. Kind of tragic in a way, because he feels everything with the volume turned to eleven.

Meruem

Meruem is the terrifyingly brilliant King who starts off pure ruler-instinct and then slowly scrubs his edges with curiosity and unexpected tenderness — complicated, relentless, and honestly one of the best “evolving villain-to-something-better” arcs ever. He devours strategy and people’s weaknesses like a connoisseur, but there’s a space for wonder too (and yes, he plays board games obsessively and loses his mind over them). He’s absolute power dressed in a child’s hunger for meaning, and also he kind of becomes shockingly… human? That sounds cliché, but it hits hard; he’s terrifying and heartbreaking at once.