hiraeth, stylized as hiræth, is a female trio under caraluna. known as the angels of asia and one of the highest-selling groups of their generation, they've captured hearts with a concept both charming and unnerving about three seasonal angels, each representing the primal principles within you, stuck in an endless cycle of time they may or may not wish to escape. many suggests that the very essence of their lore reflects the private lives of the members themselves, leaving traces of who they truly are and the skeletons they keep locked away— if you’re paying close attention, that is.
group. members. discography. ælook. ætalk. click daily to help palestine. purchase an e-sim for gaza. by dulce.
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hi dulce! i’m not sure if you’re on twitter or not but there’s this trend going around about “character and their variants,” like characters that have a similar vibe to them. it made me think of the girls and i thought it might be something you’d have fun with too :) i was just wondering if you’ve ever thought about variants for them before? 🫶
I did something similar a while ago in an older post that you could check out since i went a bit more in depth there when describing them. But yeah you know me... I can't say no to doing the actual grid post with new characters/celebrities now that ur asking me about it... :p
I won't be giving these any yapping-depth aside of a quick phrase that sums them up because I think that was the whole appeal of the variants thingy anyway like that's just them guys trust me #TRUSTME
#KAIAvariants: There are Snoopy pictures in her phone! Likes to pretend she has her anger issues under control. Will not fix you because she thinks you're funnier that way. Who would she be if not a sister?
#POPPYvariants: Most likely to be either a Playboy Bunny or the first female president. Everyone's convinced she is insane, a witch or both. Hopeless romantic and blind. A grade A loser but no one has to know that! One day she will grow wings.
#YAOYAOvariants: Miserably failing at being a girl boss to those with #eyes. Will "I'm just a little guy" her way out of this and succeed. Uses KYS twice a day. God bless the shot girls, that go-get-what-they-want girls! Convinced she was born for greatness and to eat pasta.
timestamp, pt. i. april 29, 2018 @ caraluna’s restroom.
timestamp, pt. ii. march 2, 2025 @ before the oscars.
word count. 3065 words.
trigger warnings. subtle mention of physical, mental abuse, blood (non-graphic, nosebleed), emotional trauma, guilt and self blame, emotional dependency.
[...] silk and praise cannot soften what was carried forward.
pt. i.
The restroom is quiet. In the wrong way.
Yaoyao sits on the edge of the closed toilet lid, hands folded uselessly on her lap and shoulders sloped inward as if her body was trying to apologize for existing. Blood keeps coming from her bruised nose— not fast, nor dramatic anymore, but it was enough to stain everything.
It slips over trembling lips, dots the porcelain beneath, and darkens the towel Poppy is pressing gently to her face.
And Poppy doesn’t speak.
She is moving like someone underwater— careful and slow, with hands automatic rather than intentional. She rinses the bloodied cloth, folds it, then presses it again.
Her fingers are warm, reverent even, but there is a distance to her. A hollow quiet that wasn’t there before. It isn't cruelty. It isn't even anger.
It is something worse: the fragile numbness of shock.
She doesn’t look at Yaoyao for a very long time, and when she does, usually just to instruct her to move, it feels like being seen through glass.
From the other room, voices bleed through the walls in fractured syllables. Raised and muffled. There’s a crash, then nothing.
It’s the sound of a world rearranging itself.
Yaoyao flinches at every noise. Poppy doesn’t react at all.
Suddenly, the blonde feels devastatingly young. Seventeen and small and pathetic and terrified and cornered by her own consequences.
Guilt settles in her chest like a second heart: heavy, unrelenting, and overwhelming. She thinks of Kaia's troubled eyes, of Nari’s demanding presence, of the way everything spiraled because she chose— dared to choose herself.
Only because she hadn’t thought of them.
The weight of it presses down on her chest— ribcage, heart, and all, until breathing feels optional.
Poppy finally lifts her gaze.
Her eyes are sharp, holding something unreadable within them. Fear, maybe, or calculation, or the quiet horror of realization.
When she speaks, it is barely a sound at all.
“Did you?”
Two words. No accusation. No comfort. Just the question, naked and trembling between them.
Yaoyao’s breath stutters.
The truth rushes forward, sharp and unwieldy.
Yes, I did. Yes, I broke our promise. Yes, I lit the match.
But truth is never a single thing.
It splinters. It bends. And Yaoyao has learned, too early and too well, how to live in the spaces between its shapes.
Liar is too simple of a word, and liar implies intent. Survivor fits closer, though even that feels borrowed.
Being a child is the truest thing she knows how to be.
“Poppy, I didn't think this would happen,” she whispers, and it is honest in the way that matters. Tears stream down bruised cheeks before she can stop them. “I just… I couldn't keep pretending anymore. You— you get me, right?” Her voice folds in on itself. “I thought if someone knew— other than us, Vivi, him— it would stop. That she would stop. I thought I was being helpful, I–I swear...”
Poppy listens.
Her face remains unreadable, and that scares Yaoyao more than anything else.
It isn’t because she thinks Poppy doesn’t believe her.
It’s worse than that.
Poppy has always been the one who understands without asking, who feels without needing things spelled out.
Poppy thinks. Poppy connects dots quietly until they form a shape you can’t unsee. That stillness on her face isn’t anger… it’s comprehension slowly settling in.
And Yaoyao realizes, with a hollow drop in her chest, that Poppy is seeing all of it.
Not just the fear. Not just the bruises.
But the choice.
“I didn't name her,” Yaoyao adds, desperate now, words and tears spilling faster. “I swear. I didn't say who. They, the people who found the pictures— they came to that conclusion themselves. I— I was protecting me—”
The slip makes her flinch.
“—us,” she corrects, quickly, too quickly, like patching a crack before anyone notices the fault line.
There is a pause. A fragile, terrifying pause.
Poppy’s brows knit, just slightly.
Not in accusation. In thought.
“…Us?” she echoes, quietly.
The word lands wrong.
Yaoyao’s breath stutters. Shame curls hot and sharp and ugly beneath her ribs, because she knows what Poppy heard in that pause— the way us arrived like an afterthought, like a shelter thrown up at the last second.
Not a lie, exactly. Just… a softer version of the truth.
She had been protecting Poppy. She had been protecting Kaia. Of course she had! And she would do it again. She would burn for them if she had to!
But she had been protecting herself the most.
And that, somehow, feels worse to admit.
“I didn't mean it like that,” Yaoyao whispers, voice cracking open. “I wasn't trying to hide behind you or Kaoru, I swear.” she swallows, eyes burning and throat aching. “I just… I couldn't. Not anymore… I needed someone to hear us. To see it before it was too late. I thought if it was out there, even a little, it would finally stop! That it would force things to change. That Vivi would finally hear us.”
Her hands curl in her lap, small and shaking.
“I didn’t pull you in to save myself,” she adds, quieter now, almost pleading. “I— I just didn’t know how… to keep standing by myself…”
Because Yaoyao isn’t cruel.
She isn’t evil. She isn’t heartless.
She’s just a kid who learned early that survival sometimes means letting the truth wear someone else’s shape. Not because you want to hurt them, not to sacrifice them, but because you can’t bear to be crushed alone.
Poppy doesn’t interrupt.
And somehow, that might be the kindest thing of all.
The noise outside spikes once more— a sharp edge of a sound— and then collapses into a silence so complete it rings loudly within the restroom.
Something inside Yaoyao trembles.
Her shoulders immediately fold inward, and her hands clutch at fabric like a child bracing for an impact she knows is coming.
Poppy moves.
She steps forward and pulls the younger girl into her arms, sudden and sure, as if hesitation might mean losing her altogether.
And the moment contact is made, Yaoyao breaks. The sound that leaves her is raw, stripped of pride and restraint, and she buries her face into Poppy’s shoulder as sobs tear free.
Poppy holds her, and her body is trembling, too. Pressed close— not away from the truth, but with it— and still, her grip never loosens.
Yaoyao cries until the guilt inside her twists into something without a name. She doesn’t know if she did the right thing. She doesn’t know if this makes her brave or selfish, unforgivable or foolish. She doesn’t know if Kaia hates her now, or if disappointment might hurt even more than hatred ever could.
She only knows this: the hands holding her now are real.
They are steady, unbroken, and untouched by the violence itself— and that makes it worse.
Poppy didn’t cross the line. She didn’t push. She didn’t choose. She only understood.
Understanding has always been the way Poppy hurts without meaning to.
Maybe this is love— holy and romantic and painfully mundane all at once.
Or maybe it is the cage she helped build without meaning to.
But Yaoyao clings to it, because in this moment, it is the only thing keeping her from disappearing entirely.
pt. ii.
The stylist room is too quiet for how much it has already taken from her.
It’s quiet in that curated way, really. Mirrors too clean, the air faintly sweet with citrus and heat, and Yaoyao sits alone beneath a halo of warm lights, skin still humming faintly from hours of careful hands and whispered adjustments.
The stylist had stepped out— “five minutes,” she’d said, like five minutes isn’t a lifetime when your pulse is already humming. Yaoyao lifts her hands to her collarbone, her jawline, her cheeks—- fingers hovering uselessly as she adjusts nothing at all, just grounding herself in the fact that she is here. That this is happening.
She smooths the fabric at her waist for the third time, even though nothing is wrong. The rose gold dress moves like it knows her, and it feels exquisite in a way that makes her hyperaware of her own pulse.
There’s a pause as she lingers in front of the mirror, fingertips tracing the fabric.
She hesitates.
Then, she looks up.
She doesn’t quite recognize the person looking back.
Alone, she feels exposed. Too soft and too real.
Selfish and foolish. All the seams visible.
Then she smiles at herself.
It settles onto her face like something practiced, something learned. The girl in the mirror sharpens, lifts, and becomes luminous. Beautiful. Elegant.
So Yvan— so Yvanna Liu that it almost feels inevitable that she would be loved, chosen, recognized, and perhaps, awarded.
It's strange how easily she could step into that version of herself— adored and untouchable— and how quickly the room believes it.
There’s a knock at the door.
It wasn’t sharp. Not efficient. Hesitant, almost.
Yaoyao turns. “Yeah?”
The door opens slowly and Poppy steps inside, and for a moment, the room seems to recalibrate around her.
Yaoyao even forgets to breathe.
It isn’t because Poppy looks different. It's because she looks… here.
Beautiful, undeniably so, but grounded. Solid, composed, and unmistakably real. Dark fabric falling clean against her frame, hair smoothed back, makeup kept simple but beautiful.
Nothing about her asks to be stared at, and yet she’s impossible to miss; the kind of beauty that doesn’t reach for attention because it already knows it has it.
She looks like someone who knows exactly where she’s standing, even if she hasn’t moved much at all.
Yaoyao’s face lights up instantly.
“Oh my god—” it bursts out of her before she could stop it, a laugh catching in her throat. “You made it!”
She doesn’t wait for an answer.
Instead, she crosses the room in a rush of silk and bare feet and excitement, arms already lifting. Poppy barely has time to brace before she collides against her, wrapping herself around her with a soft, breathless sound, like she’s been holding this joy in for too long.
Poppy exhales— a quiet and surprised sound, and then her arms come up, firm and familiar, folding around Yaoyao’s back.
She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to.
Her smile pressed warm and real against Yaoyao’s temple.
“I didn't think you’d actually make it!” Yaoyao blurts, pulling back just enough to look at her, eyes bright and a little too shiny. “You’ve been impossible to reach, it’s not even funny! Our tiktok streak ended, Hwayoung. It ended!” she says, voice tipping dramatically. “And for a good minute, too! I thought you actually killed yourself like you kept telling Kaia you will—”
“Oh, shut up,” Poppy says, amused, soft. Then, inevitably, “Hi to you too.”
Yaoyao laughs, breathless, and then suddenly stills, like she’s remembered something vital, something she’s been holding in since the door opened.
“Wait. Wait— look!”
She steps back, already lifting the skirt of her dress, excitement bubbling over before she can contain it. She spins once, then again, the rose gold fabric catching the light and blooming outward, alive and fluid and unmistakably hers.
“She made this for me,” Yaoyao says, already reaching for the skirt again, breathless, laughter threaded through every word. “Selene Chow— remember her? China trip? The hotel lobby where Kaia got lost for like forty minutes?” She laughs, not waiting for an answer. “She made this just for me!”
She turns a little, angling herself toward the brunette, fingers skimming the fabric as if inviting her to see it properly. “Do you see the cut? Here— and the way it moves when I do this—”
She lifts the skirt just enough for the fabric to catch the light, then lets it fall, watching it settle with something like awe.
“It feels like it knows me,” she adds, softer now, almost incredulous. Then her grin snaps back into place, bright and daring. “Like I could float! I look like the real-life Glinda, if I may dare— just without the puff!”
She stops in front of the other, arms spread just a little, waiting like a child presenting something precious and asking to be seen.
For the first time since she walked in, Poppy laughs. It's quiet, soft, and real.
But her laughter settles.
Not abruptly. Not awkwardly. It was just… enough to leave space behind it.
Yaoyao’s arms lower on their own because the room feels different now— fuller, heavier, like the air has learned something… new? old?
Rotten?
She looks at Poppy. She really looks at her… standing there so close, and something inside her tightens.
It isn’t stage fright. It isn't doubt.
It’s recognition.
Alone, Yaoyao is at her most exposed. All the pretending stripped away, no one to perform for but herself. With others, she knows how to become something brighter and louder. Someone easier to love and adore.
With Poppy, however… it’s not the same.
Poppy knows the girl behind the bright smile. The one who learned how to shine because it was safer than being seen, and that knowledge presses close, gentle and unrelenting, and Yaoyao feels small in a way that isn’t painful, just terrifyingly honest.
The silence stretches.
Then Poppy moves.
And the blonde thinks of it now.
Standing here in silk and light, beautiful and steady and ready to be adored, because Poppy reaches for her the same way she always has.
Poppy steps closer and lifts a hand, fingers brushing a loose strand near her temple. She smooths it back with careful precision, like it matters. Like she matters.
“You’ve got a curl escaping,” she murmurs, soft.
She tucks it back with the same easy familiarity she’s always had, like this moment exists outside of time and consequence.
Then, her attention drifts to the dress, to a barely-there crease near the waist, and she fixes that too, slow and methodical, as if this moment is no different from any other.
As if they have not been standing on the edge of something enormous for years.
Yaoyao feels it hit her then. Sharply and quietly.
The blood. Narissa’s screams. Kaia’s empty gaze.
The restroom. The way Poppy’s hands had moved back then… rinsing cloth, pressing gently, never rushing, never recoiling. The way she had taken care of the mess without asking or demanding for more. How she’d stayed when staying meant knowing too much.
It's the same hands now.
Clean, steady, and familiar.
Back then, Poppy had fixed her face while the world broke apart on the other side of a door because of her. Now, she fixes her hair before the world opens up and applauds for her. The distance between those two moments feels impossible, and yet— here they are.
Yaoyao swallows.
She realizes, suddenly, that this is when she feels the smallest. Not when she’s alone. Not when she’s onstage. Not under the lights.
Right here.
Because Poppy saw her before the wings, before the applause, before the way everyone decided she was easy to love. Poppy remembers the blood and the shaking hands and the way Yaoyao learned how to lie without ever feeling like one.
Poppy steps back just enough to look at her work, her hands lingering for half a second too long at the other’s shoulders.
“There,” she murmurs, quiet and sure. “Perfect.”
Yaoyao almost laughs at that. Almost cries.
Perfect, she thinks. After everything.
But Poppy is smiling at her now, like this is the most natural thing in the world. Like she isn’t carrying the weight for all of them.
Like she hasn’t stayed behind so the rest could move forward.
And something in Yaoyao settles.
Because this— this small, careful tending is how Poppy has always loved them. Not loudly, not visibly, but completely.
This settles in too deep, too fast.
Yaoyao doesn’t say anything. She just steps forward and folds herself into Poppy again, slower this time— more careful, like she’s asking for permission.
This hug isn't a celebration. It's refuge.
Poppy stiffens for half a second— not in refusal, but in recognition, and then her arms come up, holding the blonde the way she always has. Like she knows exactly what this costs her. Like she’s choosing it anyway.
Yaoyao feels it then, sharp and aching, the weight Poppy carries so she—they can keep moving. The way she stayed when everything turned ugly. The way loving them seems to have anchored her in place while the rest of them were allowed to rise.
Guilt curls low in Yaoyao's chest. It was ugly and tender all at once.
Poppy exhales, and then gently pulls back, just enough to look at her.
Both hands come up to cup Yaoyao’s face, thumbs warm against her cheeks, grounding her whether she needed it or not. Poppy's expression is soft, but there’s something painful in it too— knowledge, maybe. The kind that never really leaves.
“Hey,” she says, low and careful, like she’s speaking to the part of Yaoyao that still shakes. Then, quieter, unwavering, "I'm proud of you.”
It lands wrong.
It lands heavy.
Yaoyao’s throat tightens, because pride is the one thing she doesn’t know how to accept from her.
Because Poppy should be angry. She should be distant. She should be somewhere else, choosing herself for once.
And maybe she is angry.
Not in the way anger looks when it’s loud or sharp, but in the way it settles into the body after years of holding things together— in the quiet recalculations, the softened edges, the way she carries herself like someone who has learned exactly how much she can afford to feel, and no more.
But she’s still here.
Still loving her—them with hands that know too much and ask for nothing in return.
Because if there is anger in her, it lives alongside love, braided so tightly with responsibility and care that it can no longer exist without it.
Yaoyao nods, a small and broken motion. Happiness and guilt tangle together until she can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.
She presses her hands over Poppy's wrists, holding them there, as if afraid she might disappear.
And for a moment… Yaoyao lets herself be held as she is, wings and blood and hope and all, knowing full well that this love is both her salvation and the quiet weight she may never stop carrying.
could you give us a list of every song hiraeth have released so far ?
i'll give you a spotify link instead since you reminded me that i have one i stopped updating some long time ago :) these are the songs i see in their discography (no collaborations, no solos, no drama songs), and i might actually start updating the playlist because there’s so many songs that should be included here (and some that need to go but 🤷 )
well this is awkward i can’t embed the playlist so just click anywhere this sentence
and you didn’t ask for this, but i’ll also include some playlists i’ve done for the sillies. all of them need some updates tho bc i stopped caring abt making them perfect and just did whatever with them lmaoo
This is Hiraeth (main track playlist)
Avenue 777 (playlist based on this post)
Prod. by Poppy (self explanatory)
OCT. 2025 (playlist based on this post)
Lucky Me (playlist for kaia’s solo)
The A(e)ngel Project (playlist based on their first project that i can’t link because tumbler flagged it as mature content for some reason man who bought this website for 5 dollars smh)
why did you started to call yvan yaoyao randomly??
well. i was writing the kny au and i found it crazy calling her yvan because kny is set during the taisho era, and who tf was going to call her yvan?! so i switched it to yaoyao just for the au! just this once! but i ended up getting used to it and i just can’t fully commit to yvan anymore because, that’s yaoyao! 😸
also idk i think it’s fun that she’s known by three names based on her “persona”... yaoyao is her full name and the one she’s really connected to and the one kaia uses when she needs some scolding. yvan is her song writing and idol stage name, and yvanna is her english name, which she’s had forever but now it’s this silly little name in big hollywood ^____^ also it just falls so nicely in the tongue… yaoyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoyao
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WAITWAITWAIT HOLD UP— KAIA KILLED NARI???? LIKE SHE REALLY ACTUALLY 🔪🔪 i mean go off queen we stan but you can’t just lore dump that in the tags 😱 please expand 🙇♀️🙇♀️🙇♀️ and my life will be yours
help, i laughed when i first read this 😭 i was going to do my usual info dump for u, but truth be told, i’ve been working on a piece about this very topic ever since i decided to give the group a little revamp, so i took this ask as an opportunity to not only dust this piece but also to let u actually read what happened between kaia and nari. just be mindful of the trigger warnings, friend!
trigger warnings. physical violence. emotional and physical abuse. swearing. gaslighting/manipulation. mentions of blood and bullying. subtle mention of sexual harassment.
“Who was it?”
For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air.
This only annoyed Nari more.
“I said,” Nari repeated, her voice slower and deliberate, each syllable slicing through the silence. “Who was it?”
No one answered.
The studio was filled in a silence so thick it felt… suffocating.
Tension so sharp it was enough to cut through anyone’s everything, forcing Kaia and Yaoyao to consume her presence, because she was the kind of person whose words commanded gravity— pulling and forcing all focus to be on her, leaving no space for distraction or to overthink.
Nari raised an eyebrow as their backs straightened, patience thinning— either from their silence, or the pressure gnawing at her composure.
She was about to say something, but Yaoyao broke the silence first.
“...W-What are you talking about?” They stammered, slowly standing from their seat. They didn’t notice the way Kaia visibly tensed at her words— body rigid, eyes widening ever so slightly as she glanced at them from the corner of her eye. Yaoyao, however, was too preoccupied holding Nari’s cold gaze, unable to look away.
A small, awkward smile tugged at their lips then, an expression that only deepened the unease in the room. Nari didn’t say anything. Instead, she reached into her pocket to pull out her phone.
“Shocking claims surface!” Nari read out loud, her voice rising in a way that caused the youngest to flinch. Kaia, still standing by the music workstation, shifted awkwardly, her posture stiffening as if the words themselves had struck her.
Oh… no.
Slowly, she turned her head, her gaze finding Yaoyao, an unspoken question lingering in the brown of her eyes.
Yaoyao didn’t meet her eyes. They couldn’t, because how could they? They’d done the one thing she had asked them not to do.
I will handle this, she had said, gently applying pressure where the pain was the worst on Yaoyao’s leg. They only sobbed. Don’t do anything you will regret. I will do something.
Nari continued, “Allegations and photos accuse the fourth member of The Angel Project, Nari Kwon—” She paused, jaw tightening as if the words had lodged themselves in her throat. Her grip on the phone visibly hardened, knuckles pale against the sleek device. Slowly, her eyes lifted from the screen to meet her members. She enunciated the rest of the title slowly, “Of abusive behavior.”
Pure silence.
Kaia’s heart sank into her stomach as Nari angrily tossed the phone in Yaoyao’s direction. The sharp, metalling clatter of the device hitting the floor, paired with Yaoyao’s startled yelp, sliced through Kaia like a knife.
“You don’t know what I’m talking about?” Nari repeated, her tone teetering between a dare and feigned innocence. It carried something akin to a sing-song quality, almost mocking in its sweetness, like she was the kindest leader imaginable, someone who would never ever hurt her members in any way, someone they could trust.
Kaia takes a quick look back at Yaoyao, and this time they meet her eyes.
But they couldn’t say a word, couldn’t even convey anything with their shared look, as Nari’s sharp yell sliced through the room, demanding their attention once again.
“I’m done—” She yelled, making them both flinch and look back at her. Her voice was loud, then it went a bit quieter but still firm. “—repeating myself. Who was it?!”
“Narissa, calm down,” Kaia said, voice steady but cautious, breaking her silence for the first time since the leader’s arrival. Her heart pounded in her throat as she watched her start walking into the room, allowing the door to close shut behind her. “We can talk when—”
“Oh, shut the fuck up.” Nari spat, cutting off Kaia’s calm tone without hesitation. She closed the distance between them in a heartbeat, voice dropping to an almost conspiratorial whisper— sharp, intimate, and inescapable.
“I want one of you to open your mouth and tell me the truth.”
Kaia blinked, startled, but Nari didn’t falter.
“Do you want to sit down and read the article with me?” Nari pressed, her voice almost razor-sharp, biting into the silence. “Look at the stupid pictures proving nothing?” She gritted her teeth, frustration etched into every syllable. “See how one of you is destroying our reputation already? Before debuting? With fabricated lies?”
Kaia’s breath hitched, and her focus zeroed on a single phrase: Fabricated lies.
She didn’t need to read the article to know its contents. She was certain, beyond a shadow of doubt, that absolutely nothing about it was fabricated. Every word, every damning accusation she knew was there— there was no doubt that they were all rooted in truth.
Because ever since Kaia had moved to South Korea to train alongside Nari, she’d seen the truth beneath her polished facade. Nari’s demeanor, oh-so sweet and charming to the eyes of those who watched her grow up under the spotlight, was anything but kind behind closed doors. Under the saccharine smile lay a streak of cruelty reserved for those closest to her— for those she deemed weak, useless, and pathetic.
Kaia, however, had long since stopped being fooled by that smile, by her selective respect. She was the one person Nari could never deceive.
She had some nerve lying to her face like that.
“W-why do you think it was one of us?” Kaia’s breath hitched when Yaoyao’s voice broke the silence, drawing Nari’s hardened gaze past her to where Yaoyao stood slightly behind.
Nari’s glare made them visibly tense, and they stuttered, “The choreographer? The producers? Hwayoung? Did you ask H-Hwa—Poppy already?”
Guilt bites at Yaoyao. Nari scoffed.
“That lapdog?” She sneered, her laugh cutting through the silence like a razor, sending Yaoyao into a panicked silence while Kaia’s jaw tightened.
“She can’t even think on her own without those meds of hers. Hell, she can’t even defend herself without acting like a bruised dog.” Nari taunted, her voice lilting with a mockery, almost melodic in its cruelty.
She started moving toward Yaoyao with deliberate steps, her hands clasped behind her back in a feigned innocence. Yaoyao tried to hold their ground, but their unease was unmistakable— their body shrinking under the weight of Nari’s gaze and presence.
“But she’s not stupid,” Nari added, stopping inches from Yaoyao, who refused to meet her gaze. “And neither is Kaia.”
Yaoyao said nothing.
“Want to know who is stupid?”
Yaoyao said nothing.
Nari shoved them— hard.
“Let’s try it again. Who is stupid?”
“Nari, I don’t know—”
“It was you, wasn’t it?” Nari laughed, pushing them again, hard enough for them to stumble.
Kaia’s instinct screamed at her to intervene, but panic, dread, and worry rooted her in place.
“Wait, wait!” Yaoyao cried out loud, desperation evident in their voice. Tears welled in their eyes as they struggled with their words, “Please, Nari! It wasn’t—”
Nari’s hand lashed out before Yaoyao could even finish, and the slap landed with a crack so sickening, so fierce, they stumbled and crumbled to the floor in shock.
Fear and shame rooted them there.
Yaoyao didn’t dare speak again after that. Not with their body trembling as if the sound of the blow was still echoing inside them, not as they pressed themselves smaller against the ground, as if bracing for the blow they knew was coming. As if they were wishing to vanish.
Nari’s expression shifted, her fury cooling into something sharper, colder. She straightened her shoulders, and when she spoke again, her tone had shifted to something measured, something deliberate, the voice of a calm and rational leader.
“Oh, Yaoyao… Making excuses, bringing up someone who isn’t even here, lying right to my face. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”
The room fell silent for a moment, broken only by the youngest one’s trembling breaths.
Nari scrunched her nose, then let out a little, mocking laugh, tilting her head as if this was all some tired game. She leaned in suddenly and seized a fistful of Yaoyao’s hair, yanking their head up until they were on their knees and crying out.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you.”
Yaoyao whimpered, twisting, their hands weakly batting at her wrist, trying everything to get away from their leader, but Nari’s grip was both iron and cruel.
And then— quick, practiced, and merciless, she drove her knee hard into the bridge of Yaoyao’s nose.
The crack was so sharp and revolting, Kaia flinched violently.
Yaoyao let out a broken, strangled noise, somewhere between a gasp and a sob as blood burst hot down their face, streaking their lips, chin and their shirt. Their trembling hands flew up, clutching desperately at their nose as tears poured harder.
Nari didn’t even blink. Instead, she wiped the smear of blood off her knee with her hand and hissed, disgust dripping from every hissed word. “God damn. I am so fucking tired of cleaning up your mess.”
Yaoyao muffled a sob into their bloodied palms, their body shaking like a leaf caught in the wind as she tried— really tried to get her body to move. But Nari only leaned closer, looming so close her shadow seemed to swallow them whole.
“We are in the middle of debuting, you imbecile!” She yelled, voice spiking into venom.
Yaoyao shrieked as Nari’s hand cracked across their face. Once. Twice. Thrice. Each blow precise, cruel, and unhesitating, the force leaving them gasping for air, for sympathy, to be able to breath with blood in their throat.
“We haven’t even debuted— Fuck! Are you really this stupid?!”
“I–I’m sorry!” Yaoyao cried, their voice raw, muffled behind their shaking arms and the pouring blood.
“I don’t give a fuck!” Nari roared, rearing her leg back because how dare she try to defend herself? How dare they cry when they’d done something so unforgivable?
Her knee angled, poised, ravenous for another strike, desperate to see them bleeding and begging for forgiveness.
But Kaia shoved her.
Of course, that was something Nari didn’t see coming.
The impact sent her stumbling back into the music panel, a loud crash echoing through the studio as some equipment tumbled to the floor. She caught herself against the table, her gaze, confused yet seething, snapping to Kaia’s direction, whose hands were still trembling from the push.
Kaia’s ears rang— panic, worry, anger, fear… all jumbled together. She couldn’t pinpoint which emotion had driven her to act, only that she had.
But Kaia was good. Kaia was nice. Kaia was calm.
Kaia was the one who never fought back.
How dare she act?
The air was suffocating as Nari straightened from her spot near the panel, her gaze piercing through their silence. Her voice dripped with disdain, disbelief. “Maybe you are stupid,” she spat, her eyes narrowing. “What the fuck is your problem?”
Kaia blinked, stunned. Her lips twitched as if on the verge of laughing at the absurdity of the question. “What’s my problem?” Her voice cracked, disbelief laced in every word.
The door clicked open, and from the corner of her eyes, she registered movement.
Poppy slipping into the room, startled by the noise.
Yaoyao’s strangled whimpers, the wet sound of blood choking their breath.
Nari’s fingers twitching, but so calm in her cruelty.
Kaia felt, rather than saw, the gentleness of Poppy’s hands and presence, the fragile weight of Yaoyao’s sobs.
But she didn’t look.
Even when every single muscle in her body screamed to turn, to rush to Yaoyao’s side, to let Poppy anchor her in the gentleness she brought into the room— she couldn’t.
Her eyes stayed fixed on Nari.
Nari, standing there. Like a storm contained, silent but seething, casting a heavy, oppressive silence that loomed over everything and everyone in the room.
Kaia’s breath came shallow, controlled, her chest tight as though even blinking might give her another chance.
“You’ve been doing this for years,” Kaia said, voice steady, but lacking the sweetness she usually carries with her. “And not just to us.”
Nari blinked, caught off guard.
“And now you’re surprised someone finally had enough of your bullshit?” Her voice wavered, sharp with an anger that burned in her chest.
Her hands trembled, tears pooling in her eyes. Not from sadness, but rage.
Pure, unfiltered rage.
“Bullshit?” Nari’s lips curled into a bitter smile, scoffing once she’d gotten past the shock of Kaia’s actions. “You think acting like a leader is bullshit? You think caring about the crap you three mess up is bullshit?” She motioned to her members with a wave of her hand. “You’d all be nothing without me. Nothing. If I hadn't been fixing your mistakes—”
“You haven’t done anything,” Kaia snapped, voice rising as tears started to spill over. “You’ve never done anything but be—”
Before Kaia could react, Nari pushed her forcefully.
Kaia stumbled, her balance faltering as the room seemed to spin and tilt around her.
“I have,” Nari said, voice louder to bear her in volume, “And for nothing, it seems. Skin hardens over time, my ass,” she laughs bitterly, “Because all of you,” she looks back at the other two, making them flinch.
Her tone shifted, sweet yet venomous, dripping with mockery, loud enough for her words to echo in their minds. “You are still as useless as the day Vivi brought you here. You are nothing.”
Her gaze snapped back to Kaia, locking on with unrelenting intensity. This time, her voice softened to a near whisper, but her words carried an icy weight that sliced deep.
“And you, Kaoru?” Her lips curled into a cruel, mocking smirk. “You’re just a fool playing house everywhere you go. And it’s funny, because… for what? Nothing, because everything you do never happens or lasts. A joke, that’s what you are.”
Nari gave Kaia a quick look over, a flicker of disdain that taunted her to speak, to retaliate. That glance burned through Kaia, igniting something deep within— a sharp pang of disbelief slicing through the anger already churning in her chest.
For a moment, she couldn’t speak— couldn’t even think.
And then it hit.
Anger surged through her veins, hotter and sharper than she thought possible. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms as she trembled with the effort of holding herself back. She blinked hard, her vision blurring as more tears threatened to escape.
Not from sadness, but from the sheer intensity of her rage.
Because how dare she?
Everything Kaia had done— personally and professionally— every sleepless night, every sacrifice, every time she had put herself second to make sure this dream stayed alive. She endured ridicule, bruises, and endless doubts, yet she pushed forward because she believed in herself and her members. She believed in their potential, in the spark each of them carried that could ignite something extraordinary if only they worked together.
Kaia had faith— unshakable, relentless faith— that this group could be more than just another fleeting attempt at success. She wasn’t the leader, just a mere sub rapper and lead dancer, but she still tried to hold them together, even when they doubted, even when they wanted to give up. She smiled through her own pain, lifting Yaoyao when they crumbled under pressure and reassuring Poppy when her insecurity clouded her resolve.
Even Nari, with her biting words and abusive control, had received Kaia’s support. Not because she deserved it, but because Kaia knew that for their dream to happen, she had to keep the peace, and at the end of the day, Nari had a dream just like she did. She endured Nari’s cutting remarks, the moments that left her crying in private, because she thought if they could just get through it, they could debut as the group she believed they were meant to be.
But now? Now, it was clear. No matter how much Kaia gave, no matter how much she sacrificed, no matter how much they endured her abuse, Nari didn’t care. She would keep holding them back, sabotaging any chance they had to shine, all for her own selfish gain.
There was no place for Yaoyao, Poppy or Kaia to shine. Not under nari’s rule— only shadow and silence.
Nari turned away, smile lingering as Kaia stood motionless, trapped in the suffocating silence. “Well, it doesn’t matter anymore. Vivi said she will handle the article,” she said lazily, her tone as casual as if she was discussing the weather. She strolled over to the sound panel, gripping the mouse and clicking idly through the screen with disinterest.
The repetitive click echoed through the studio, each sound amplifying their emptiness.
Kaia’s eyes remained fixed on Nari’s back, her face unreadable.
“She asked me to take all of you to the meeting room to, you know, talk about this,” Nari said, her voice light and casual but carrying an edge of unease.
“So, let’s go and—”
Kaia didn’t let her finish.
In a blur of movement, her hand shot out, grabbing the back of Nari’s head and slamming her face into the music panel with a sickening crack.
Yaoyao and Poppy’s gasp was nothing compared to Nari’s scream, raw and piercing— at least, until it was muffled by the panel as Kaia slammed her down again.
And again. And again.
The panel screeched beneath each impact, metal groaning like it might split.
Blood pattered in quick, wet taps onto the floor, steady and unforgiving. Beneath it all, Yaoyao’s muffled sobs bled into the silence, thin and desperate, a sound Kaia felt in her bones more than she heard over the roar of her own pulse and Nari’s screams.
Nari’s hands flailed, desperate, clawing for anything to grab onto— anything to stop the assault or defend herself. She managed a weak, choked cry for help, but Kaia was relentless, her movements sharp, calculated, and quick.
The panel rattled with each impact, a brutal rhythm of anger that left no room for mercy.
By the time Nari’s screams faded into weak, incoherent sounds, her world started to blur and fade to white. Her vision started swimming, and every taken breath felt heavier, each heartbeat distant and sluggish, until all that remained was a faint, fading echo of her reality.
That’s when Kaia paused her actions, yanking Nari’s head back with a tight grip on her hair. She glanced at the blood smeared across the panel, messy and vivid, before tossing Nari to the ground like a discarded ragdoll. A weak, pitiful whine escaped the woman Kaia had just brutalized, barely audible over the heavy silence that followed.
Yaoyao cried out when Nari’s body crumpled limply in front of them, retreating further into Poppy’s chest, who instinctively wrapped their arms around them.
Her eyes were wide, her expression a mix of both shock and horror, yet it wasn’t the blood or Nari’s broken form that rendered her speechless.
It was Kaia. The blank stare in her eyes, devoid of any warmth or hesitation… That was what froze her in place.
Because Kaia was good. Kaia was nice. Kaia was calm.
Kaia had faith.
But Kaia didn’t even glance at them. Her gaze remained locked on the crumpled figure before her, a fragile and broken thing now barely clinging to any lasting strength. Nari struggled, her body betraying her attempts to rise, only to collapse back onto the cold ground. Her face— swollen and grotesque, a canvas smeared with blood and bruises— was unrecognizable. She wasn’t Narissa Kwon anymore.
She was nothing.
And in that nothingness, Kaia saw a reflection of everything Nari had become: a hollow, festering voice that thrived on greed, abuse and ridicule. It wasn’t just emptiness; it was a consuming force that had sabotaged their efforts, stifled their dreams, and mocked every sacrifice made along the way. It was the same nothingness that threatened to poison their potential, to strip away everything they had worked for until it all meant nothing.
The sight sent a cold shiver through Kaia. Not from guilt, but from the quiet, unshakable certainty that she could no longer allow Nari to hold them back.
Once, Nari had towered over them all. She was untouchable, a storm no one dared defy. Now she sagged in Kaia’s grip, reduced to a trembling body and shallow gasps, her eyes dim but wide with the same disbelief she had once instilled in others.
The great leader. Now a pitiful prey.
“H-help…” Nari’s voice came weak and trembling, a glimpse of fear cracking through her voice. This time, she managed to push herself off the ground just the slightest, her movements slow and faltering as she tried to sit upright.
Kaia answered by sending her back down with a shove. Then, without a second thought, she dropped to her knees, fists slamming into Nari’s bloodied face in a frenzied, relentless surge of fury.
Each punch landed with a visceral satisfaction, fire coursing through Kaia’s veins with every strike. Each blow was a reckoning, a release of years spent enduring Nari’s cruel control. For all those times Kaia had been mocked and humiliated, her dreams weaponized against her because Nari saw her as nothing more than a toy to play with.
For all those countless nights Kaia had held Yaoyao as they cried, Nari’s cutting words and manipulations tearing away at their confidence, leaving them dimmed when their light had once shone the brightest.
For all those times Kaia had seen Nari’s hands linger a little bit too long on Poppy’s skin, her words dripping with twisted intent, turning a strong-willed woman into someone trapped in fear, reduced to a fragile doll— played with and discarded without care, waiting for the day Nari would repeat the cycle.
And as Kaia’s fists continued to fall, the anger deepened. Not just for herself, but for the potential Nari had trampled underfoot, the possibilities she had stifled with her poison. Nari had taken so much, stolen so much, dragging them all into a shadow where they would be kept away. Kaia’s chest heaved with every strike, the weight of years of frustration and helplessness lifting, punch by punch.
She wanted her gone— they needed her gone. Everything would be better once Nari was out of their lives, once the weight of her abuse and manipulation no longer held them down.
This was the first step toward breaking free. Toward a future where they could finally find peace.
She had faith that this was the only way.
Poppy cried out her name, but Kaia didn’t hear it. Not the first time. Not the second. Not the third.
But the fourth time, Poppy’s cry broke the trance, making her gasp.
Slim arms successfully pulled her away from the broken, bloodied figure beneath her.
Poppy’s pounding heart against her back felt like home, grounding Kaia back to reality.
And for a moment, she had been lost— lost in the chaos of her own rage, consumed by the weight of everything she had endured and fought against.
But now, clarity starts to seep through her senses, piece by piece.
She stared at Nari, lifeless and unrecognizable, her body crumpled on the bloodied ground.
This wasn’t someone Kaia could recognize anymore.
This was a hollow, broken thing.
The person who had once towered over them, wielding cruelty, mockery and control, was now a hollow, broken figure. The image of Nari had become something foreign, a reflection of the void Kaia had tried to hold together for far too long.
Because Kaia was good. Kaia was nice. Kaia was calm.
Kaia had faith in them.
Poppy’s jagged breaths pressed against her ears as she held onto Kaia tightly, but Kaia didn’t respond, didn’t move. Her bloodied and bruised knuckles, once delicate and soft, now felt foreign— scarred by the weight of her own rage. Yaoyao’s cries echoed through the silence, but Kaia remained still, staring down at the nothingness before her.
Kaia takes a slow, steady breath.
Her voice was quiet. Flat. Heavy with the weight of everything that was about to change.
hi dulce!!! this question will sound crazy but is any of the sillies a dozen lmao im just curious
this ask is so funnnnnn 😝 not to put on the “my gg is perfect and can do no wrong” glasses bc that’s not really the case, but vivi stole these girls from their childhood bc she saw something akin to perfection in them. then, she hid them for years to “perfect” them so they could debut in the “perfect” group so like... the sillies are not dozens at all… each one of them is great at their own thing. like… yeah! the girls might be great at x but lack in y, but because they balance each other out it’s not that noticeable. and even when it is, they have other strengths that cover it up anyway so they don’t really fall under the dozen allegations
HOWEVER people call literally anyone a dozen these days soooo... read more time!
i think the one ppl kinda get away with hating and calling a dozen is kaia, and i think it all comes from the idea that her vocals are “weak”. and they’re really not that weak! her voice is soft and fairy-like (imagine sabrina carpenter meets joy), she carries a tune nicely and her breathing is actually pretty impressive! the thing is, she’s in a group with two great vocalists, so next to yaoyao and poppy her voice can sound weaker. but miss kaoru is not a dozen: she’s a good performer and super entertaining to watch, her rapping is pretty good, she writes well, and she dances nicely despite not having a dancer position. i think the whole “kaia is a dozen” thing started around mid-hiraeth because she had voice cracks here and there while her members did them nicely, but her solo made everyone realize she’s definitely not the dozen ppl made her out to be. to me, kaia is that one idol everyone thinks of when someone mentions the perfect idol, actually. :) aside of the murder ofc.
the second one ppl sometimes call a dozen is poppy. she was supposed to be the ace! the perfect one! so she was untouchable at the beginning— she could dance, sing, produce, act, model, everything! but over time she just stopped putting energy bc she’s exhausted and depressed and like… she’s not gonna pour the tiny bit of energy she has into something she doesn’t enjoy unless she’s being threatened backstage or literally just took a bunch of meds or is getting paid lmaooo 🤷 what poppy lacks is energy, and everyone constantly compares her to her younger “hungry” self. and even when she performs well to the point of being complimented left and right, ppl will always find something to complain about. like, think jennie! but unlike jennie, poppy doesn’t get away with it and actually gets scolded bad for not being as “perfect” as vivi wants her to be. still, she is a strong vocalist and a great dancer and a producer who genuinely loves creating music for and with her friends. just give her meds, let her take her naps, and she will be back to work i promise
now if someone calls yaoyao a dozen they’re either trolling or asking to be pointed and laughed at because yaoyao is a star!!! they’re a very strong vocalist and their performances are insane both as an idol and as an actress: like this is an oscar winner, helloooooooooo did yall like yaoyao in wicked part 2?! 😋 but they do lack in dancing and get critiqued a lot for being kind of stiff… and since they’re taller than the other two they can look a bit off. but they get away with it bc that’s THE vocalist babey! and they’ve even admitted that if the choreo is too much they’ll literally stop and hit an unnecessary but pretty high note just to survive lmaooo
tldr; none of them are actual dozens because vivi shaped them into the “perfect idol” with flaws that could be hidden or balanced out within the group. but like i said… ppl call literally anyone a dozen these days, no?
is there an au where you view hiraeth!heejintsukiningning as like... i guess the main fc/look for the girls? oh gosh i hope that makes sense lol i just love seeing your info dumps and was curious about them and wanted to ask 🫣 please feel free to ignore this if you want! again love the sillies and your blog and your big brain 🧠
putting this under read more. not because i info dumpled or said something crazy or anything, i just don't like clogging my blog lmaoooo
ahhh yes! i actually do have a few aus where i kind of see TsukiHeejinNingning!hiraeth. the first au that come to me was the fullmetal alchemist au: they’re very young there, like in their early twenties i believe?, so my brain immediately went to them instead of imagining them as the younger versions of their og fcs because, like i said in that one post on main, sometimes i think a lot about those three! there’s also the “what if” au, where hiraeth are much younger, they have just debuted and although very similar to the original plotline, i think they don’t have that much respect for ~the cycle~ they are in.
and then there’s the kimetsu no yaiba au, but hear me out… i know this is an anime but the anime-like versions of poppy and yaoyao have that heejin and ningning air for some reason so my mind went down that route and it’s been impossible to imagine them as anyone else but them. also, heejin having that cute wavy short hair made me even more delusional because poppy canonically has that hairstyle… like no matter the au she will always end up with short wavy hair ☝️
i think kaia’s the one i don’t really imagine as anyone other than sana… just because i really like the idea of her being the oldest out of the three and i think sana is the perfect kaoru fc choice ever! but when it comes to her younger self or the aus where she is a shrine maiden, i do picture tsuki, like her akb48 era version specifically. same thing with my witch au that i’ve been playing around for funsies, where they’re just starting their journey into magic and kaia is the cutie patootie hexing people for fun and 10 dollars ^_____^
but honestly, i still see little peeks of TsukiHeejinNingning even in aus where hiraeth are older or, yknow, hiraeth, because to me SanaJisooYuqi are more like vessels for the girls rather than what they literally look like. it’s hard to explain, but they don’t even look like them in my head… they’ve got their own distinct features that set them apart from their og faces. like, i’ve literally pictured Tsuki!Kaia killing nari instead of Sana!Kaia before, even though tsuki isn’t even her main fc. like, i genuinely don’t care about their fcs because the sillies are a little bit of everything and everyone that makes me think of them! like u have no idea the many fcs i see and go gasps! poppy!😭 SanaJisooYuqi are just the perfect vessels to me but it’s fun letting your mind wander (:
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ANGELS OF THE SEASON (stylized as ængels of the season in uppercase, and known internally as the ængel project) is a pre-debut project created in 2018 to introduce the concept and members of caraluna’s female trio, hiræth. this ambitious and unconventional project consisted of three cinematic, lore-driven short films, two unique solo tracks from each member, curated photo exhibitions, and limited edition merchandise leading up to the group’s official debut. despite the growing interest, the members themselves remained unseen throughout their individual debuts, heightening the mystery and speculation about them and the project, especially given their recognizable backgrounds.
this project not only introduced the members’ styles and visuals to the public, but also emphasized their unique identities and sound through their individual films that gained attention due to their distinct and eerie plotlines. each member was revealed under a seasonal full moon before debuting as a full group of three under the full moon of the autumn season. this approach started on jan. 3 and continued until the group's official debut on oct. 28 of the same year, gaining significant attention domestically, charting on digital platforms despite being mere debuts, and earning a solid and loyal fanbase of angels who became fascinated by the lore behind their concept, as it seemed the members were luring the listeners to join their world of self-acceptance, love and anger through the feeling of hiraeth.
while all eyes were on hiraeth, another equally puzzling mystery arose: caraluna, the label behind the group. no concrete information was ever shared about the label’s origins, leadership, or even its structure. despite the heavily polished and high-budget nature of the project, caraluna remained almost entirely anonymous aside from vivenne yoo’s name tied to the trio. in fact, it was almost as though the label materialized out of thin air, appearing at the same time the trio debuted, yet offering no public explanations. the sudden, lavish rollout of hiraeth had fans speculating things such as, was this a brand-new company with seemingly unlimited resources, or something else entirely? its obscurity only fueled rumors that caraluna was either an underground label with deep pockets or perhaps a shadowy entity behind their one and only group, carefully crafting its own myth.
initially planned as a group of four, former member and leader nari was removed near the end of summer when her true nature as a bully was revealed to the public. her removal led to her complete disappearance from the industry, and neither the members nor their label have mentioned her since.
despite not participating in any music shows for undisclosed reasons during the period of their debuts, promotions included only photo exhibitions and limited edition merchandise. remarkably, it was the fans’ growing obsession and viral speculation that carried the project’s presence, as they were never seen in person or traditional media during this time.
hiræth made their official, and very awaited debut with their successful and critically acclaimed promotional single new world on oct. 28, earning them their first win as a group, the title of monster rookies, accolades and victories from prestigious award shows and critics.
ANGEL OF THE SEASON: WINTER is the debut single album released on jan. 2, 2018, as part of caraluna’s project, angels of the season. it dropped under the first full moon of winter, marking the reveal of liu yaoyao under the stage name yvan. known as a musical theatre star in the making, yvan had disappeared from the spotlight at just fourteen years old— reportedly unseen by close friends and family. when she suddenly re-emerged with an ear catching and mysterious debut, the public’s response was immediate and overwhelming, setting the tone for the enigmatic rollout of hiraeth.
winter's film was both an energetic and fun video to re-watch, but it wasn’t until spring’s film was released that fans and netizens began to notice connections between the two. this sparked a surge of theories, and winter’s film saw its views skyrocket as a result. as the angels of the season era approached, caraluna released the pre-order link for the limited physical albums of their debut. yvan’s single album became the third best-selling in the series. since the albums were a limited release, copies are now considered rare and highly sought after, making them expensive collector’s items.
the photo exhibition, though steeped in the chill of winter, also carried an unexpected warmth. the vibe of the exhibition was childlike and playful, with candid shots of the angel of winter smiling warmly at the camera, often caught mid-laugh or lost in thought. the concept presented yvan as ethereal, inviting, and full of light, her presence comforting enough even in the cold, harshness of the season. yet, there was something unsettling lurking beneath the surface only a few caught. certain shots, where her smile lingered just a little too long or her gaze shifted slightly off-camera, left fans feeling as though they were being drawn into something more than just a charming debut. the photos, while undeniably fun and innocent on the surface, held a quiet, eerie tension. it was as if yvan’s warm exterior was a mask, and behind those candid eyes lay something darker— a mystery that angels couldn’t quite shake.
★ . THE TRACKLIST
OH MY!
COME OVER
★ . THE PLOTLINE
WHO AM I? the angel of winter, born from a snowflake under a moonless sky. you are new and inexperienced, perhaps a little hesitant while at the palace, and that’s what makes everything more fun, even if it means you doing things over and over. after all, you will never experience repercussions if something ever goes wrong.
LOOP? you think you are no longer inexperienced and innocent, so you strangle your old self and lay them to rest in a pretty casket, dressed in a white and pristine gown. you hold a personal funeral for your old self every single day, repeatedly closing the casket whenever they awaken to your smiling self. one day, you gaze down at your smiling and innocent self surrounded by beautiful flowers and daisies, and you were devastated. why won’t you just leave yourself alone?
FORBIDDEN FRUIT? your forbidden fruit is the strawberry, something you didn’t realize until you took the first bite in the comfort of your bedroom, away from anyone's eyes. you were upset when you liked it, but also confused. why did you eat it? would it be silly to say that the seashell told you to do it?
AM I PERFECT? someone who calls themselves as the palace’s headmaster wants to see you perform. you are not perfect, but you’re enough. now do it, again.
PRINCIPLE? you are enjoying your time here, but you can only hope this is not everything that is. you want more.
MY COLOR? your color is green, only displayed in the skirt of your uniform, but you find comfort in the color blue as you learn more about yourself.
ANGELS? none that you remember. you didn’t see the face of the angel that was being scolded by the headmaster... and there’s something telling you to meet one on the rooftop of the palace.
WHAT DO I CONVEY? you are happy and excited. you are warm despite being being born in winter. you mean well. but you are also scared. you are cold, you are cruel, but you are trying your best.
END CREDIT? you are wearing white when opening the entrance door of what you call home to walk into the dark. you are opening up to darkness despite your pristine persona, because there’s more to celestia, it seems.
ANGEL OF THE SEASON: SPRING is the debut single album released on mar. 31, 2018, as part of caraluna’s project, angels of the season. it dropped under the first full moon of spring, marking the reveal of penelope kim under the stage name poppy. known as a rising and beloved ballerina, poppy had disappeared from the public eye at the age of sixteen, leaving many to speculate about her fate— with some even believing she had taken her own life due to the overwhelming pressure of her career. when she resurfaced with an eerie debut after the debut of yvan, the public’s reaction was immediate.
spring's film was a beautiful, eerie experience, filled with tranquil visuals that masked a deeper, unsettling tone. as the angels of the season era progressed, caraluna released the pre-order link for the limited physical albums of their debut. poppy's single album became the second best-selling in the series, and due to its limited release, copies are now rare and considered valuable collector’s items.
the photo exhibition had an unsettling, almost melancholic quality despite the softness and beauty of spring. the exhibition featured lush floral and nature-inspired backdrops, with the angel of spring positioned amidst the blooming flowers, as though she were the very embodiment of spring. however, there was something inherently quiet and withdrawn about her presence which was a stark contrast to the season of growth and renewal. her stillness amid the vibrant flowers led many to interpret her concept as one of not blooming, despite her environment urging her to. her subtle expressions, often quiet and introspective, gaze drifting just past the camera, added to this eerie tension. her angelic presence was at odds with the surroundings, as though she weren’t meant to be there at all, and angels couldn’t help but wonder: was she waiting to bloom, or was she lost in the weight of something deeper?
despite the beauty of her surroundings, there was a quiet sadness, a lingering sense of longing in the photos, making her exhibition feel like a glimpse into an angel who could never fully be part of the world around her.
★ . THE TRACKLIST
ROLLERCOASTER
SAY SOMETHING
★ . THE PLOTLINE
WHO AM I? the angel of spring, born from a daisy under a sky with three moons in different phases. you are the personification of a perfect angel: disciplined, grounded, a believer in celestia’s doctrine, and bitter. does anyone know that “mother” personally stopped you from indefinitely cutting out of your perfect and beautiful loop to fall into temptation?
LOOP? you've been repeating the same actions over and over, and now that you're aware of it, it troubles you deeply. but what else could you do at this point? perhaps your life has always mirrored the ballerina trapped in the toy box by your window—an enigmatic presence that speaks to you when you're alone, much like listening to the cassette tape that evokes memories of a better time, one that may never have truly existed, so you keep rewinding and rewinding instead of moving forward.
FORBIDDEN FRUIT? your forbidden fruit is the apple, which you ate with delight when someone placed a shiny one on your plate during a fancy banquet dinner you attended. why did you eat it without feeling guilty? is it because a voice through your headphones reminded you of how good sin tasted? does that mean you've sinned before?
AM I PERFECT? the headmaster applauds every time you perform for her. you are perfect, yet you aren’t content. perhaps you never will be, so keep at it until you're much better.
PRINCIPLE? you are angry and bitter, but after all this time, you still believe in love.
MY COLOR? your color is blue, visible only in the skirt of your uniform and the ribbons in your hair. yet, it's the purple of the crocuses you tend in the garden that truly makes you feel at home.
ANGELS? you don’t remember; you barely pay attention to anyone, instead reminiscing over things that may have never happened.
WHAT DO I CONVEY? you are grounded, tranquil and eerily quiet. you are also exhausted and bitter. you’ve accepted it, everything, but that doesn’t mean you’re content with your doctrine.
END CREDIT? you are on the palace rooftop, gazing up at the dark and moonless sky, reminiscing about the days when you could witness different moon phases back home. you aren’t even surprised when another angel, dressed in a dark green skirt, joins you up there.
ANGEL OF THE SEASON: KAIA is the debut single album released on jun. 28, 2018, as part of caraluna’s project, angels of the season. it dropped under the first full moon of summer, marking the reveal of hiiragi kaoru under the stage name kaia. known as a beloved, happy-go-lucky member in a famous japanese girl group, kaia had disappeared from the public eye at just fifteen years old, leading to widespread speculation that she had been kidnapped. her sudden disappearance fueled a frenzy among her fans, who became as obsessed with finding her as they had been with her idol persona. some even went as far as to believe that she had been preserved in secret, revered as a shrine-like figure by her most devoted followers. her return was nothing short of electrifying, setting the stage for the final act of the individual debuts and confirming her status as one of the most captivating and enigmatic figures within the group.
summer’s film gained widespread attention as fans began theorizing its cryptic narrative, particularly after realizing that the angel of summer was portrayed as the instigator— the one who had led both winter and spring into rebellion through seashells and headphones. this revelation fueled a wave of discussions and speculation, causing a sharp increase in views and renewed interest in the interconnected storylines of the angel project. kaia’s single album became the fourth best-selling in the angels of the season. as a limited release, the album copies are now rare and highly coveted, often fetching high prices on the resale market.
her photo exhibition reflected the warmth and energy of summer, showcasing her with sun-kissed skin, laughing under golden skies, and surrounded by blooming flowers. the images were romantic and rather magical, filled with warmth and light, and yet there was an undeniable edge to them. her eyes, often sparkling with mischief, hinted at something more. the angel of summer’s smiles were infectious, but her gaze was always knowing, as if she were sharing a secret with the viewers that they could never quite understand. the exhibition, while filled with the joys of summer, also carried an undercurrent of danger— a playful yet potent feeling that summer was a force to be reckoned with, someone who could lure you in with charm, but leave you questioning their true intentions, where not everything was as innocent as it seemed.
★ . THE TRACKLIST
WEEKEND
LA VIE EN BLEU
★ . THE PLOTLINE
WHO AM I? the angel of summer, born from a seashell under a sky with a crescent moon. you are what they call a rebel, always longing to go past the rules and see more outside the wall they've built around you. you have lost focus in celestia and are mostly interested in what lies beyond. is it because you believe and know you and others can do more than do the same thing over and over?
LOOP? you've embraced the loop for so long that you've grown bored of it, which has made you rebel and change aspects of yourself because, in the end, everything will go back to zero. but you don’t want to continue living that life, no?
FORBIDDEN FRUIT? your forbidden fruit is the watermelon, which you happily ate when it was presented to you. this is something you wanted and needed to do, just as you needed them to sin, too.
AM I PERFECT? the headmaster labels you as a lost cause. no matter how many times you perform for her, it’s never enough, and she makes you do it again until your body gives out. she has no idea you do everything perfectly when you're doing it on your own and for yourself, not for others.
PRINCIPLE? you have faith in escaping from celestia. you believe in creating a new world where you can define yourself without someone dictating how you should behave and live. but you couldn’t do it alone.
MY COLOR? your color is red, seen only in the skirt of your uniform and the faint crimson tint lingering in your hair. but why settle for red when you can be pink?
ANGELS? many, but only two catch your interest: one who peeks through the door when the headmaster scolds you, and another who pricks her finger with a thorn while both of you tend to the garden of celestia together. eventually, you find your way to talk to them.
WHAT DO I CONVEY? you're energetic and eager for more, which is both thrilling and daunting.
END CREDIT? your angels have listened to you, and now the three of you discuss your future, despite how scary it may seem.
ANGELS OF THE SEASON: HIRÆTH is the debut single album released on oct. 28, 2018, as part of caraluna’s project, angels of the season, showcasing and debuting the highly anticipated female trio hiraeth, consisting of the revealed members kaia, poppy, and yvan as the angels of autumn. released under the first full moon of autumn, the album includes four tracks: the title track, a promoted b-side, an intro, and an outro. their debut is considered one of the most impactful by a rookie girl group, with their dark, mysterious concept resonating deeply with fans and critics alike. the trio's autumn-themed debut perfectly embodied the essence of the season: a time of change, transformation, and beauty as they flee from what they used to call home.
the reveal of hiraeth was met with immense excitement, though not without controversy. near the end of summer, a statement was released announcing the removal of a member from the group due to allegations of bullying. this revelation led to the sudden disappearance of narissa kwon, a beloved child actress known as nari who had disappeared at sixteen years old. nari was originally set to debut as the angel of autumn, and to this day, no one knows what happened to her. the label issued a statement requesting that no one discuss the matter further, as they wished to continue hiraeth as it was. both angels and k-netizens respected the label's request, especially as evidence of nari’s actions began to surface through an anonymous twitter user, confirming the decision to remove her from the group.
hiraeth’s name was officially revealed during a press conference just before the release of their debut album. after the members finally introduced themselves, they discussed their excitement about their debut, their involvement in the album’s creation, their intricate concept, and the announcement of their fandom name. the press conference was filled with anticipation and excitement, as fans were eager to hear from the group after months of mystery surrounding their identity.
their debut didn’t just capture attention of many; it also earned them the title of rookie monsters. the album received numerous accolades and critical acclaim, with the trio securing multiple wins and topping charts. some angels even feared that nothing could ever top the project’s impact, a sentiment shared by many who were blown away by the album’s depth and complexity.
promotions for the debut included five weeks of performances on various music shows, where hiraeth’s angelic, yet intimidating presence earned them their first win for new world, along with ten more wins, two triple crowns, and multiple year-end awards, including three daesangs. their promoted b-side, billyeoon goyangi, even won against their title track three times.
angels of the season’s single album became the best-selling in the series. despite being a limited release, copies remain highly sought after, though still relatively affordable compared to the rarer albums in the collection.
★ . THE TRACKLIST
NEW WORLD
WHO AM I
SPARKLE
BILLYEOON GOYANGI
★ . THE PLOTLINE
you three were born representing different principles that the primal woman has: faith, love, and hope, but you didn’t know this until the angel in red told you. you three had to become one and create a new life once you’ve accepted said characteristics, both good and bad. but it was hard to accept that you weren’t as innocent as you thought you were, no?
you believe in yourself and in your dream, but faith without action is simply wishful thinking, and faith without hope is simply daydreaming. you needed poppy and kaia.
love is harsh and requires faith and hope to thrive. while love can endure cruelty, it can also be manipulated into evil. to flourish, love must be bolstered by faith and hope. you needed kaia and yvan.
there is nothing to hope for when one cannot find faith or determination– and love, both for others and for oneself. you needed kaia and poppy as much as they needed you.
anger, however, is what prevents them from fully trusting each other. they trust you, then they don’t, and the cycle repeats. this frustration intensifies within yourselves, reflecting on your "past" and the pressure to be flawless despite past mistakes. but beneath it all, this anger, opposing love, also complements it. anger is love unfulfilled; it is love misguided. it is passion.
and the truth is, they needed anger—they needed anger to yearn for them, for its fervor to guide them to the core of their entire existence: the oppression of celestia.
because you don’t need celestia. you don’t need heaven. you don’t need anyone trying to define you as someone you’re not. what you need is self-thought and self-love, and the only way to nurture that self-love is to reconcile with yourself, integrating every aspect of your being into one, even if that means giving into anger.
under the moonless sky of celestia, the three of you conjure a full moon by uniting your principles as one, discovering safety, comfort, and mystery in its glow as you flee the palace. venturing through dense woods, you set forth to explore a world beyond heaven and can only hope some will follow your lead to start all over, but on your own terms.
ANGELINE’s ægenda is a task-driven agenda designed to support and check out the projects of the angels of asia, hiraeth. originally a fan-made initiative by fans for fans, it has since become official and globally trusted by angels all around the world. each month, loyal and dedicated fans are appointed to create tasks and articles to keep everyone informed about all things hiraeth, tailored to the events and projects of that month.
Hiraeth might not have released a new, actual group record in 2025, but their influence has been impossible to ignore. The trio has spent much of the year moving alone, quietly, and almost strategically, yet every step, whether in fashion, film, or unexpected brand tie-ins, has kept their name in rotation along active groups and soloists. What could have been a quiet year has instead become a masterclass in staying relevant without oversaturation.
However, despite their absence within the caraluna label, music still found its way into the picture. Early this year, Hiraeth surprised fans with the theme song, "Q&A", for Netflix’s My Melody & Kuromi, an adorable and pastel themed project that reminded everyone of not only their past ties with the Sanrio franchise, but their knack of blending themselves into things all sweet and playful. And while technically a 2024 release, their cover of “Escape from the City” during the initial running sequence and the main theme song, "Somethin' Ain't Right", for Sonic the Hedgehog 3 refuses to fade, especially among angels, the Sonic fandom and those who find the collide of these two worlds amusing (reminder, whatever Yaoyao asks for, she will get it!). The aforementioned tracks are still being talked about, streamed, and covered, cementing itself as one of the group’s most enduring moments despite its spontaneity.
Collaborations filled the gaps where a group comeback might have been. The Jellycat × Hiraeth project, a whimsical project built around Bartholomew the Bear (Kaia’s longtime favorite plush for those who remember debut days) is coming this October with a limited collection of plush toys with a brand new track, “Up & Down”. It's a playful and surprisingly clever move, one that is sending both fans and casual collectors scrambling to get their hands in this new collection. In July came the Better in Denim campaign for Gap, which dropped without warning and marked Hiraeth’s first major joint appearance in a hot minute. A fresh dance challenge, new styling, great denim, and a flash of group synergy? The internet ate it up.
It is also known that the members wrote their own storylines this year, of course.
Yaoyao, who’s slowly easing away from her stage names Yvan and Yvanna, has been unstoppable worldwide. Once a longtime darling in South Korea and China’s entertainment scene, she’s now a global force with her face and name everywhere. She fronted campaigns for Kiehl’s, Shuhu/Tong, Acne Studios, POP MART, Chow Tai Fook, and Versace, all while balancing a history-making film career. Her role as Glinda in Wicked not only made her the first K-pop idol to win an Oscar, but it also turned her into a Hollywood fixture ahead of Wicked: Part Two. Add in her co-created TBH mascot line, Cooogi, inspired by cookies and her puppy alter-ego, Yovi, and Yaoyao is proving that her artistry stretches well beyond the musical theatres, Inkigayo stages and her powerhouse vocals.
Poppy, on the other hand, took a very different route. Despite being the face of brands such as Miu Miu, Cartier, Jimmy Choo, Alo Yoga, and others, she was almost entirely absent from the public this year. Her only appearances were tightly curated— the showcase of her Gentle Monster prescribed eyewear line inspired by celestial imagery (and for "the hot blind bitches who can't see"), the yearly Avenue 777 episode, her brief but viral appearance at the 97th Academy Awards, a single magazine cover that is releasing this month, and the Gap campaign. And yeah. That’s it. But during the time she was tanning under the sunlight of Lake Como, it is known that she was working in music while also taking care of her health and cutting her hair short. Poppy produced most of Lucky Me, Kaia’s debut solo album, which went on to become a million-seller shortly after its release. With the record still charting well into 2025, her pockets are full, even if her calendar isn’t!
And then there’s Kaia, whose solo breakout has been nothing short of explosive and sun-kissed. Lucky Me delivered three global hits and pushed her into full it girl status despite the initial hesitation of her going solo. Fashion tapped in immediately, of course. She was the face of Dior, Tamburins, and Tommy Jeans already, but brands such as Shiseido, Graff, Innisfree, Dyson, and others, have all aligned with her this year, and she’s now as much of a fashion staple as she is a chart presence. For Hiraeth, the achievement is historic as she officially became the first member, and the first in the group’s history, to reach million-seller status with a solo project.
What’s next is the question on everyone’s mind. Kaia has dropped more than a few hints about new group music, fueling speculation that Hiraeth might be gearing up for something around their debut anniversary on October 28. Traditionally, their anniversaries have meant fan events, surprise drops, live shows, or exclusive merch, and this year, with the subtle build-up and clear momentum, the expectation is bigger: a proper comeback.
Hiraeth’s 2025 might look quiet compared to their earlier years, but quiet doesn’t really mean absence. They’ve played the long game, leaning into solo wins, cultural tie-ins, and carefully timed group moments. If this is the lull, fans know what comes next: the exciting storm! When will this happen, though? Who knows!
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hi hi hiii i’m so happy to see you back and posting again, i’ve missed you on the dash 🥺 i know you’re having fun with your aus (which is great!) but it feels like you’re drifting a bit from why most of us follow you… it’d be nice to see more hiraeth content again, or even just a little new info dump about them instead
Hi friend :D I get what you’re saying but mmmmmm i quiet literally just posted something that is more in line with "what most of my followers follow me for", which is my kaia piece.
And i wasn't going to explain myself but 1) i've mentioned before that i'm not only on hiatus but that i just haven't been in the mood to post 🤷♀️ Again, not because i am no longer interested in hiraeth, i just have a life. However, i think i've made it super clear from day one that i love rambling about them, and i've even encouraged anons in the past to send me asks if anyone was curious about something. So if you want an info dump about them, i encourage you to just ask! ^____^ Who knows! Maybe that would help my muse because i love thinking harder when it comes to replying questions!
2) The only reason i am having fun sharing my aus is because anons come to my inbox asking me to info dump, and well, i do love talking nonsense when i'm given the green light 🤷♀️ and 3) This is still my blog at the end of the day and i think i'm free to post whatever i want. Also i can’t really control to which blog they send those asks to or what they ask about, yknow?
i beg you for any info dump about hiraeth in this specific universe aka my all time favorite manga ugggh. if i get it, kaia and poppy would be alchemists... what if yaoyao is a homonculus???
and lil angst for an au in your au: if it follows the homonculus lore of the first anime with yao being the result of a failed human transmutation done by kaia & poppy who are mourning their best friend while taking care of their double!!
id seriously give you my first born in exchange for any headcanons of yours in amestris / fma universe!!!
u loving fma makes me love u anon. we are best friends now because fma is my all time favorite manga and anime ever and forever and i loooooove anyone who brings it up 😽
fma!hiraeth is a rough draft because it was just me imagining them joining the elrics plans / seeing them as actual canon characters (for example what if ling yao was yaoyao instead?!), so it wasn't perfect or all that well developed / well thought (like if i showed u my docs it’s nothing but just bullet points and me just talking just to talk) HOWEVERRRRRRRR that idea u just gave me? it made me get up and not only polish it, but make ur idea fit into what i already had written and it actually fitted perfectly and even helped me smooth down many plot holes i straight up ignored!
i hope u enjoy this as much as i loved adding this new idea. i actually see myself writing this in the future so that's fun! ^____^
this is an alternate fullmetal world where the elrics do exist, it’s just that they never committed the taboo and are probably having a very nice life with trisha! instead, the title of “the kids who broke the law of equivalent exchange and live with the fallout” belongs to the sillies :) the canon world still stands as there’s the military, roy mustang (mymanmymanmyman), father, and the homunculi, but the main characters of the canon story change.
basically, poppy and kaia, young alchemists driven by grief and love, attempt to bring back their best friend yaoyao through human transmutation. in the process, poppy loses her voice, kaia her heartbeat, and yaoyao returns not as herself but as an homunculus: half-familiar, half-wrong, an anomaly who desperately clings to the love they have for her, but not for her. marked as taboo alchemists, the girls immediately become fugitives, hence them always running and covering their tracks, haunted by their sin and hunted both by the state and by the homunculi who see yaoyao as an anomaly.
basically a story of a messy, tragic, unholy family bound by love, guilt, and the consequences of defying nature. the living proof of how grief can twist into sin and how that sin demands to be carried.h
act i.
the plot. the sillies grew up together on the edges of central, daughters of modest families. kaia was calm, methodical, and had a gift for finding symbolic patterns in everything. poppy was rather loud, bright, and endlessly curious about alchemy theory. yaoyao wasn’t an alchemist. she just couldn’t sit through equations without getting bored or bothering the girls to entertain her! but she was the one who usually kept them grounded, the one who always cheered their successes, and the one scolding them every time they mentioned the state alchemist program. she’d laugh and shake her head, “you’ll never be dogs of the military. as long as i’m alive, i will not let you!” she was their moral compass and their heart.
the death. it wasn’t fair. yaoyao had no part in the military’s endless wars, but the chaos spilled into their town like wildfire. one moment she was there, laughing, tugging on their wrists, and the next, she was down. a stray bullet tore through the street, a fragment of metal tore through stone, smoke curling into the air. she wasn’t a soldier nor a target. she was just… there. they remember the way yaoyao tried to smile, her final attempt to make it okay, even as her eyes dimmed, and then she was gone. no long farewell, no words, no chance to hold her warmth close. just a sudden, brutal tearing from the world. the world didn’t stop ofc it never did, and that was the moment they broke. the moment they swore the world would not have her. and so, they tried to bring their anchor back.
the taboo. poppy and kaia decide to bring her back. and in their grief, their brilliance and intelligence turns into arrogance, and so they attempt human transmutation. the cost is that poppy loses her voice, the very thing that gave her alchemy rhythm, and kaia loses her heartbeat, the way to live and of her studies in living anatomy. the result is that yaoyao is reborn, but not as she was. she was reborn as an homunculus that looks and sounds like her, and remembers just enough to twist the knife in their hearts.
military discovery. roy mustang confronts them. they’re young adults nearing their mid twenties, broken, clutching their creation like guilty children with blood on their hands. roy is furious but… sensible. he lets them escape, knowing their existence may be useful in the future. they become fugitives overnight.
act ii.
their life. they are always moving and hiding their tracks. kaia never sleeps deeply anymore because her body doesn’t follow human rhythms anymore. poppy aches to speak, to laugh again, to scream, but writes everything down instead. they both parent yaoyao and fight her at the same time.
yaoyao’s duality. although more innocent compared to the other homunculus, she is rather cruel. she taunts them for their failure, and for how badly they want her back. but the way she leans her head on poppy’s shoulder, the way she teases kaia, and her laugh? in these moments she almost feels real, like their yaoyao. and she may start of as proud, but she ends up desperately wanting their love, but they can’t really give it because she is not her.
reputation: rumors spread ofc. there are two taboo alchemists and the monster they created. the military hunts them as criminals, and father’s homunculi want to capture yaoyao, because she is not of his design. she is dangerous precisely because she exists outside the system.
internal fractures: kaia wants detachment, to treat yaoyao as what she is: a mistake, but poppy can’t help but protect her (she already lost her once, she refuses to lose her again).
act iii.
father’s plan: he needs perfect homunculi tied to philosopher’s stones. yaoyao, born from grief and love rather than his hand, is a flaw in his plans. a variable/anomaly that shouldn’t exist. she is both a threat and an opportunity.
roy’s return: he crosses their path again. he knows they are criminals, but he needs them now. he forces a tense alliance, treating them less like allies and more like weapons to be aimed, but he keeps them protected for now.
doubts: kaia begins to think the only way forward is to destroy yaoyao and to end her suffering, to sever her connection to father. poppy refuses. her whole body rebels at the thought to the point of throwing objects to express her anger.
yaoyao’s break: torn between her homunculus instincts (violence, mockery, and manipulation) and her desperate yearning for the love both kaia and poppy have for her, but not her, she becomes unstable. she lashes out at enemies, at them, at herself. sometimes she is their ally, sometimes their executioner.
act iv.
final act? father’s plan is almost complete and yaoyao is lured toward him, tempted with the promise of power and of belonging, but she resists this. not for humanity’s sake, but because she wants poppy and kaia’s love, and she wants to love them, too.
the confrontation? poppy and kaia face yaoyao at her most unstable, her most dangerous. they need to choose between destroying her, ending their sin once and for all, or keep her, and damn themselves to forever carry this ghost of a friend who will never truly be theirs.
the cost? either choice is unbearable because if she dies, they lose yaoyao all over again. if she lives, they condemn themselves to carry the weight of their taboo forever and this time they won’t be able to flee.
the end? ██████████████████████████████████
theme.
grief makes monsters of us all.
poppy lost her voice (her flame and expression), kaia her heartbeat (her rhythm and grounding), and yaoyao her humanity. together they form a broken trinity.
they are not villains or heroes. they are just three girls bound by love, guilt, and the consequences of sin, running from a world that has no place for them.
kaia. the “al” figure, the hollow alchemist.
kaoru grew up in a small, quiet town with a sickly mother and a father who left when she was barely old enough to remember. the one thing he left behind was a shelf of old alchemy texts, yellowed and dust-heavy. kaia found them young, tracing the glyphs with her little fingers, wondering if any answers could be hidden in the lines. she carried that fascination with her into girlhood, clutching at the promises those books whispered, that if you just studied enough, understood enough, you could rewrite the world itself!
poppy became her closest partner in that pursuit. together, they studied obsessively, not under a master, but through trial, error, curiosity, and fascination. no one was there to hammer in the taboo, to burn into them that human transmutation is incredibly forbidden. they were passionate, curious, mischievous, and reckless. where poppy burned with voice and flame, kaia was quiet precision, connecting symbols and anatomy into strange patterns.
when yaoyao died, grief hollowed her out, and the books that once looked like a game became a weapon when she and poppy broke the ultimate law, and kaia lost her heartbeat.
kaia’s alchemy became tied to her loss. her strength has always been in living transmutation (things such as anatomy, body structure, etc). she dismantles and rebuilds with uncanny precision, reading people like blueprints. she also works with an eerie calm, as though nothing in her chest could quicken or shake. her touch is surgical, her creations efficient and elegant, but they lack warmth.
her stillness unnerves those who have crossed paths with her. in battle, she doesn’t flinch or falter. her precision comes from the fact that adrenaline never clouds her since her body is beyond it. literally.
how is she alive because she has no heartbeath. literally. her blood no longer circulates with a natural pump. instead, an alchemic tether keeps it moving sluggishly. her body is pale and cold to the touch. her lips often look faintly blue, the reason why she loves to carry pink colored lipsticks. when she sits still for too long, she looks like a corpse in meditation.
physical. she can’t regulate temperature well, meaning that heat and cold overwhelm her quickly. she bruises easily and also faints if she pushes too hard. alcohol also sits heavy in her body.
appearance. her veins stand faintly visible under her skin. her hands are always cool and her chest is unnervingly still. pressing an ear to her would reveal silence (something that yaoyao does a lot).
emotional/existential weight. kaia’s emotions feel muted. no racing pulse when she’s scared, no flutter of a heart when she laughs, no ache in her chest when she cries. it’s like a wall sits between her and the world. she sometimes wonders if she’s truly alive or just an alchemic puppet that never finished dying.
people often ask if she’s okay, unsettled by her presence enough. those strangers who have had a long conversation with her get creeped out when they realize she has no pulse.
poppy, already silenced by her own loss, scribbles constant notes to kaia (sit down, you look pale, don’t faint on me) as though keeping kaia upright is a sacred duty. they guard each other fiercely, their losses mirrored but different.
yaoyao, the homunculus, teases her a lot. “you can’t even feel your chest ache when you cry anymore, can you? what kind of human are you now?” kaia endures it with her eerie serenity, but the words sting when she did it for her, but not really her.
her heartbeat was the symbol of everything in her life (fear, love, grief, life itself). losing it means she can’t “feel alive” in the same way. her calm is no longer chosen but forced, and her serenity is a prison. she walks the world like a ghost in her own skin, half-spirit, half-woman, still moving forward because poppy needs her, and because yaoyao haunts them both.
she hates her hollowness but wears serenity like a crown.
poppy. the “ed” figure, the mute alchemist.
poppy grew up with her parents only briefly, at least just long enough to remember warmth, music, and the safety of being loved. when they died young, she was welcomed into the hiiragis’ home with open arms. when kaia became more present in her life, it was like the world cracked open. kaia’s fascination with alchemy was soulful and philosophical, something poppy latched onto. suddenly her own curiosity had a mirror and a companion, someone who treated her mind like a fire instead of a nuisance. yaoyao followed soon after into their friendship. the three of them became inseparable, feeding each other’s lives with joy and possibility.
poppy also used to sing. very softly, like she was afraid someone would take it away from her. lullabies at sleepovers, teasing verses she’d invent to make them laugh when things were getting too serious. yaoyao loved her voice most of all, always egging her on to sing more. kaia, secretly, loved it too, but said less. that voice was poppy’s proof that she was alive and that she could reach others.
the backlash of their sin burned her throat raw, like fire lived in it. she survived, but the price was absolute silence. now she can’t sing anymore, can’t shout, can barely whisper without pain.
voice = selfhood. poppy may have been the most reserved out of the three, but she had always been sharp-tongued, quick to laugh, and quick to snarl. her voice was her sword and shield. now she can’t wield it.
voice = intimacy. all the moments she used to share with her friends (humming lullabies, whispering jokes, saying “i love you” or "i will kill you" in silly whispers) have been stolen from her. she can’t reach them the same way anymore.
voice = grief. when you are mourning you want to scream. poppy can’t. all her rage, guilt, pain has to stay bottled or get thrown into physical gestures. so her silence becomes its own cage.
secondary loss, trembling hands. alchemy requires precision and control and her hands usually betray her with that. sometimes they’re steady, but sometimes they tremble like strings pulled too tight. a perfectionist trapped inside a flawed body.
it adds insult to injury because not only can she not speak, but sometimes she can’t even write cleanly enough to express herself.
communication. with notebooks, chalkboards, sharp hand gestures, and facial expressions. when she’s angry, she’ll slam chalk against a board or throw a cup instead of shouting. her silence becomes violent.
intimacy. kaia notices it most, how poppy wants to whisper reassurance but can’t, how her laughter cracks into broken sounds. kaia reads her touch now instead of her words.
isolation. people underestimate her constantly. they just aassume she’s passive, lesser, and forgettable. she hates it. inside she’s still fire, but trapped under quiet ash. sometimes she believes what's said about her.
symbolism. poppy is the girl who cannot cry out. silenced by her sin. the one whose grief is so heavy it stole her scream.
dynamic with kaia. kaia has no heartbeat, poppy has no voice. they become mirrors of absence. their friendship (and love) is now stitched together with silence, scribbled notes, and glances that last too long. they learn to read what others can’t, aka the flick of a hand, the shift of breath, the quirk of an eyebrow, and more. it’s intimate in its own broken way.
dynamic with yaoyao. the cruelest part is that yaoyao adored her voice, loved her songs and the way she talked. now yaoyao-the-homunculus mocks her silence kinda, but also clings harder in the quiet moments when she leans against her shoulder. yaoyao’s love for her voice, gone forever, because of what they tried to do to bring her back.
poppy is fire with no sound. she moves through the world violently, with gestures instead of words, with chalkboard threats instead of speeches. she burns but can’t roar and because she was once so alive, sooo loud, the silence feels like a grave.
yaoyao. the “winry” figure, the homunculus.
before the sin, yaoyao was warmth and motion, the kind of girl who filled space without even trying. as a florist’s daughter, she spent her childhood surrounded by petals and sunlight, her hands usually dusty with soil and pollen. she loved to dance barefoot in courtyards, humming silly songs that even made kaia and poppy pause in their obsessive alchemy studies.
she wasn’t an alchemist because equations bored her and it was too difficult for her, but she was their anchor and their heartbeat outside the dusty books. she laughed endlessly, teased mercilessly, hugged fiercely, and dragged kaia and poppy into every game and festival in town. poppy adored her shameless joy and kaia loved her reckless light. basically, she was their moral compass, their cheerleader, their number one fan, and their heart.
when they tried to bring her back after her sudden and unfair death, she returned, but wrong. she was way too perfect, too sharp, and too hollow. her smile quiet didn’t reach her eyes and her laughter echoed like metal on glass. she knew their names before they spoke, but when kaia called her yaoyao, she tilted her head and asked, “is that who i am?”
she didn’t have an official homunculus name, but she became something akin to desire. the craving to be and do more, but also to be whole and loved, to be what she once was.
fragments of her former self lingered (a laugh here, a half-remembered song there, movements that recalled her dancing in the courtyard, her warm smiles) but those shards were fractured and painful. she couldn’t fully remember, couldn’t fully feel, couldn’t fully belong to what they yearned for.
sometimes, glimpses of the old her break through, like a gesture, a phrase, or a fleeting softness, but those moments devastate poppy and haunt kaia.
she doesn’t see herself as a villain or as a bad guy because, well, she didn’t ask to be born like this. she’s rather innocent, but also messy, unpredictable, blunt, and very morally grey coded. sometimes, she lashes out, mocks, and even hurts them, but beneath it all is a desperate need to be loved as she is.
she is unstable unlike the other homunculi tied to father’s plan, born from grief and human love. she is not a perfect design, so she is both dangerous and vital.
every moment with her is a test: love, guilt, fear, and grief tangled together, because kaia and poppy can’t let go of the fragments of the friend they lost when she's right there. and beneath her sublte mockery, yaoyao desperately clings to the thought that they will love her the way they loved the old her. she wants that love, like she literally aches for it, and she longs (somewhere deep inside) to share it with them fully.
yaoyao is the sun that no longer warms fully and the light fractured by human grief and forbidden ambition. she embodies grief, heartbreak and danger, she’s the living proof of poppy and kaia’s sin. she is their impossible responsibility, their ghost, their child of grief, and above all, their reminder that love and guilt can create something both beautiful and monstrous.
timestamp. july 29, 2025 @ caraluna’s building, elevator.
word count. 1219 words.
trigger warnings. implied violence, body horror, dissociation, implied death and blood, psychological abuse, exploration of guilt.
The elevator doors whispered shut behind her.
Inside, it was quiet, but not the kind of quiet that soothes you.
No, it was the kind of silence that listened, as if something had been sealed in with you.
Mirrors lined every surface around her. The walls, the ceiling, even the floor, each one catching her reflection in fractured glimpses, as if it was trying to piece together something that was already whole. She looked like a ghost trapped in a jewel box: too poised, too beautiful, too still, wearing black velvet like a shadow and gloves the color of a prayer said too late.
She looked divine.
Kaia always did.
Her face was relaxed— calm, but it was the kind of calm that didn’t come naturally. The kind you earn, slowly, through silence and obedience. Soft-lashed, high-boned,and a rosy mouth resting in a gentle curve of nothing. She looked like the kind of woman who never bled, who had never sinned, who had never broken. Someone who was born already sacred.
FLOOR 3.
FLOOR 4.
The elevator began to move, and something in her shifted.
Just slightly, not visibly. Not to the many reflections of herself, at least.
Inside her body, something pulled tight, like a thread catching on bone. Her ankle ached in the same place it always did after difficult performances and long days, a low pulse of pain that had never fully healed. She shifted her weight by a fraction. Just an adjustment. Not because it hurt, but because it reminded her.
Her shoulder rolled back, and there was a soft pop.
And just like that, she heard it again. That sharp, sick sound. Not hers. Hers. Cartilage collapsing, bone striking panel, wet breath and screaming metal and tears. That awful, brittle crack that kept echoing in her skull, no matter how long it had been since the first time she heard it and made it happen.
It didn't haunt her. At least, not exactly… but it stayed, like the taste of iron on the back of her tongue.
The sound of bone breaking had been delicate. Almost musical.
She thought about that more often than she should… how it didn’t even sound like violence. It sounded like an ending. Like the final snap of something old, rotten, and overdue.
Something that needed to be destroyed.
And it had been, by her dainty, calm hands.
And wasn’t it strange, how she could still stand here while that sound followed her like a lullaby?
There was no remorse. Not guilt.
Just the memory of music.
FLOOR 5.
She didn’t blink. She didn’t even breathe differently, but her jaw locked, ever so slightly. Inside her gloves, her fingers curled once and then stilled.
Her gaze lifted to the mirror.
A thousand versions of herself stared back at her. Each one identical, each one flawless. Not a hair out of place. Not a smear, not a tremble, not a single mistake. It was just her: divine, composed, and untouched. She was beautiful in the way glass is beautiful before it shatters.
She stared at them, and for a moment she couldn’t tell which one was real. They all looked… perfect. Human. Her.
Except the one she felt twisting through her veins.
The one pulsing behind her ribs.
The one no mirror could show, but she knew was there. Watching, grinning, and taunting her. Every single day.
She looked away.
FLOOR 6.
FLOOR 7.
The air felt too thick now. It wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t cold, either. It was just there, like a weight pressing gently against her skin and throat, urging her to feel whole.
She breathed through it. Shallow and controlled, just like she was taught and instructed every time the screams, the cries, the beggings were too loud, but that wasn’t enough to stop her stomach from turning. Not sharply, at least not enough to disturb the surface. Just a slow, sinking churn that settled beneath her sternum like a secret. It was acid-sweet and impossible to name.
She could still feel the blood. Not on her hands— those were currently gloved in red, covered, pristine clean, and stiff, but beneath the skin. Threaded through her muscles and veins. Nested in her spine, savoring it in her taste buds.
The universe had jokes, she thought. Red gloves. A clean elevator. Soft music playing through the speakers, something orchestral, slow, and beautiful.
A stage, always. Even in moments like this.
Especially in moments like this.
The corner of her lips barely lifted.
“Funny.”
FLOOR 8.
Her fingers twitched again. Once. The satin sighed under the strain. Twice.
She didn’t look down.
Instead, she kept watching herself because the mirrors didn’t lie. At least not technically. They showed her what everyone else saw. The number one girl in the world, Hiiragi Kaia— a vision, a muse, the girl on the radio, the woman in the billboards, the angel of summer, untouchable.
But the truth was quieter.
The truth sat deep in her chest, behind the calm musings and the kind smiles. It spoke only when she was alone like this, inside places that moved too slow to ignore. It said: You did it. You made it.
But it also said: You killed her. You made it.
FLOOR 9.
But nothing showed. Nothing ever did.
Her lips remained soft, and her expression remained unbothered. There was no grief in her eyes. There was no rage, no fear. Not even regret. Not anymore.
Just distance.
Just the long, cold calm of someone who had done what needed to be done, then buried the rest beneath silk and smiles.
FLOOR 10.
The elevator started slowing down, and her gaze shifted to the center of the mirrored doors and held her own stare.
And then the bell rang.
FLOOR 11.
With that single sound, her face changed.
Not dramatically. Not like a mask falling.
But precisely.
Her lashes lifted. Her mouth softened, just barely, enough to suggest warmth, but not enough to prove it. The tension in her fingers melted, and her spine straightened. She became grace incarnate. Glowing, serene, soft in all the right places. Human, just barely.
The doors opened.
She stepped out like she was gliding, like there was nothing behind her but silence and floral perfume. Like her heart had never screamed, like her hands had never broken anything human, like the mirrors hadn’t seen it all.
heyyyy 🥰 i'm the anon who sent the ask about kny!hiraeth and just wanted to say that your response was AWESOME!! thank you for the great info dump about the sillies and honestly valid on you changing the canon and doing whatever you want because that's the fun of doing aus 🤭 literally done that with my naruto au during my naruto days lol. but also again wanted to show my love and support to you and hiraeth (and whatever au they are in) bc you are awesome 👏👏 i was also curious if you've ever thought about hiraeth in any other aus other than pokemon and kny? i know you said those were your current hyperfixes (valid) but i still just wanted to ask 😆 cause i'm the same way in wanting to put my own little oc into different worlds (mainly video games and anime 😔✊ and even though they will prbs never see the light of day lol) so thanks for not making me feel weird about that 🫶🫶🫶 i'm sorry this is so long but keep up the great work and i hope you'll share more info dumps whenever you feel like it cause i support it!
hi friend i’m so glad u liked the kny!hiraeth dump 😭😭 i think the one who needs to do the thanking is me because both asks made my whole day as someone who loves to share little things about my girls even if we are talking about them in another world ^___^
to answer ur question YES! i have so many other aus u don’t even want to know… because as much as i love hiraeth, and this is not me saying that i’ve lost interest, thinking of them as idols only made me zzzzzz when the girls are way too developed to stay in one life! sometimes i get really bored! unless i am talking to my friends about them and their lore, that is 😭 it doesn’t help the fact that i’m not into kpop anymore and yeah that’s why i like to have fun and throw them into another exciting things 🤷 besides kny and pokemon (which are the ones i am currently crazy about), i’ve tossed them on genshin impact, persona 5, soul eater, and fullmetal alchemist (though fma is less like “they’re in the canon world” and more like “what if they were the characters themselves” because yes ed!poppy and al!kaia exists) and… well! now that nod-krai dropped in genshin maybe it’s time to pick that one up again while hiraeth is on hiatus…
anyways thank u again for the love and support, seriously 💖 never feel weird about inserting your ocs into other worlds because that’s LITERALLY the fun part of having ocs!!! pls keep doing it and i hope they get to see the light of day one way or another because i would love to read about them :D
i’m so obsessed with hiraeth x pokemon already… can you give a rundown on the girlies n their backstories n itzara if its not too much trouble
of course i can because the region i created is one of my little pride and joys 🙈 there are many things that probably don’t correlate smoothly (like i even made my own legendaries and sometimes i just got hmmmm) because this is a brand new story that i am still toying with, but i will share the real history of itzara before the league’s propaganda touched it + a little rundown about the girls :)
"The History of Itzara"
DRAFT: Written by Hiiragi Kaoru
The Itzara Region is a land of contradictions. It is breathtaking in beauty but ruthless in survival. Often called the heart of legends, it's a place where the myths of ancient civilizations and the presence of Pokémon are inseparably interlaced together. Here, volcanic mountains pierce the sky, rivers run through sacred valleys, and jungle ruins whisper the stories of gods and heroes. In Itzara, battles are not merely sport: they are survival, tradition, and ritual all at once.
Long ago, Itzara was home to advanced civilizations whose astronomers looked up to the heavens and whose warriors honored divine Pokémon in rites of sun, moon, and storm. They built temples aligned with the stars, where trainers and Pokémon stood side by side as guardians of balance. Legends speak of a Feathered Serpent who descended in times of harmony, a Solar Eagle who carried the sun on its wings, and a Moon Jaguar who prowled the night sky. These deities, it was said, kept the world in motion, ensuring that destruction and renewal remained in balance.
But history in Itzara was never without blood. Ancient records etched into stone tablets and cave murals tell of rival sects who summoned destructive serpents of fire and rain, demanding sacrifices to keep famine or flood at bay. Wars were waged over which Pokémon’s power should rule the land. This cycle of devotion, conflict, and renewal became part of Itzara’s very identity.
When these civilizations declined, the region entered a long period of quiet. It became known as a tranquil refuge, a place where meteor showers painted the skies, where forests regrew over abandoned temples, and where retired scientists and travelers from other regions found peace. Over generations, Itzara opened its arms to all outsiders. Settlers from every corner of the world were drawn to its valleys, warm coasts, and the promise of coexistence. For many families, including those of foreign origin, Itzara was a land where one could start anew, and so communities became diverse, blending traditions into something uniquely Itzaran.
This peace lasted centuries. In time, as Itzara’s population grew, its people started looking to formalize their traditions of battle. A League was established atop the highest peak of the region, a place once sacred to the old Lorekeeper, where the Feathered Serpent was said to descend. Like Alola’s trials, Itzara’s first League was not meant as spectacle, but as a celebration of culture, strength, and unity. Gym leaders rose to prominence, trainers journeyed the region to prove themselves, and at the summit a Champion, twenty two years old Xavier Solari, was crowned.
But for the past decade, there has only been one Champion. Under his "reign" and the death of the oldest Lorekeeper, the world of Itzara began to shift slowly. Wild Pokémon turned violent, lashing out at trainers and travelers without warning. Strange distortions kept toring up open the sky, spilling Ultra Beasts into forests and mountains. More and more trainers went to the authorities with desperate claims— that their partners had been stolen, or that they were suddenly… different. Hard-eyed. Wrathful. Some even turned on their own trainers with fatal results.
The League hardened in response. Gyms grew harsher, trials more brutal, as if to prepare every challenger for the nightmare lurking beyond the safe zones. And yet, to outsiders, Itzara gleams like a jewel. Festivals continue to flourish, temples are still standing, traditions are still celebrated, and the League is admired across the world as the pinnacle of strength. Foreign scholars and travelers speak of Itzara’s beauty and culture in awe, never glimpsing the shadow beneath. Its people, too, live under the glittering story they are told— that all is well, everything is being investigated, and that the Champion is leading them into greatness.
The illusion holds because it is carefully crafted. State-controlled media glorifies the Champion as a savior, while tragedies are rewritten as accidents or buried in silence. Law enforcement are well-paid to conceal what truly happens beyond city walls, and above all, cultural pride blinds the people themselves: to question the League is to question Itzara’s honor, its beauty, its very soul.
But the murals of the ancients tell another story. The deities, it was said, kept the world in motion, ensuring that destruction and renewal remained in balance. Their silence now is a warning. The balance has been broken, and in that silence, something darker has taken root.
Behind the admiration, behind the spectacle, lies a truth almost no one dares to whisper: that Itzara’s glory is built on fear, violence, and the silenced voices of those who tried to resist.
heavily based and inspired on the mesoamerican era and its mythology (temples, sun/moon/serpent deities, cycles of conflict and renewal) and méxico (geography, biomes, the culture and traditions, syncretism, the history of refuge and cultural blending, corruption and organized crimes and the fact people outside méxico and even my own people can't see it or they just pretend they can't see lmao, and quetzalcoatl) ^__^
i was also inspired by canon plots such as the shadow pokemon project and regions such as hoenn, sinnoh/hisui, alola, and orre. i really wanted to explore the idea of a champion who’s not some big evil final boss because basically it’s the whole elite league, but someone driven by pride and obsession because he has this kind of mentality that is like: “if i became the champion here, then my people must be just like me. they must be strong enough. or i'll make them strong enough.” so the league and the region itself becomes this machine of pressure, trials, and survival to shape them into what he believes they should be. :)
but yeah. basically the “plot” of my au is that yaoyao starts finding the truths of shadow pokémon mostly by herself after stumbling across a shadow togepi, and through casual, innocent questions, she slowly uncovers more. eventually that leads her to kaia and poppy, and then a bunch of other ppl who get drawn into the bigger picture ^___^ the story is basically all of them quietly researching, chasing threads, dealing with shady shit, protecting pokémon, exposing corruption, and sometimes actually kicking ass but ofc they are not doing it alone because there are a lot of npc characters involved too: other gym leaders, the last lorekeeper, my made up legendaries, even vivi and communitybestie are part of it lmaooooooo
"The History of Itzara: The Pokémon League"
DRAFT: Written by Hiiragi Kaoru
The Itzara League is unlike any other in the Pokémon world. Where most regions present their Leagues as symbols of unity, sport, and tradition, Itzara’s is more like a government— a shadow state ruled by its Champion and his chosen Elite Four.
On paper, the Gym Leaders and the Elite Four form one organization. But in truth, they are two halves at odds. Gym Leaders serve their communities directly: they are protectors, mentors, and trial-givers. They follow the Champion’s laws outwardly, but many whisper of their doubts behind doors and to those who seek to battle the Champion. Too many unexplained deaths, too many missing Pokémon, too many laws passed to benefit the Champion’s circle. They cannot prove anything, but they fight harder than any other region’s leaders, because they know that to defy the League openly is to sign their death warrant.
The Elite Four, by contrast, are the Champion’s inner council, his weapons and his hands. They hold power over Itzara’s politics, economy, and even culture. Each is feared in their own right, not just for their strength in battle, but for the influence they hold beyond it. Together, they make the League a machine— one that looks beautiful from afar, but is built on blood, manipulation, and shadows.
pokémon professor/specialist, shrine maiden, shadow pokémon researcher. twenty eight years old. sinnoh native, itzara resident. specializes in ghost type pokémon and in nosing into things best left alone. known for her gentle, calm and charismatic presence; for her affinity with ghost pokémon and the paranormal. her team consists of gengar, decidueye, chandelure, lopunny, milotic, and alolan vulpix.
although a sinnoh native, kaia grew up in the older, rural parts of itzara where nature and tradition was and continues to breathe.
when she was a child, she was a curious, respectful but very mischievous shrine maiden tasked with tending to ruins and spiritual spaces because paranormal activity wasn’t as active when she was in charge. it was here where she met her first pokémon, a playful gastly who tried to make her and her friends laugh when they ventured too deep into one of the ruins. obviously, it scared the fuck out of everyone and they fled crying and screaming. everyone except kaia, of course, who laughed, played and entertained it until her parents came looking for her. that gastly later became her lifelong companion, the gengar that usually lurks behind her with the sinister smile kaia wishes she could own.
a year or two ago, she became a trainer when she found a rowlet near one of the temples she was tending. she didn’t try to capture or control it, instead she just sat quietly beneath the tree and ate her snacks as it silently observed her, and after a while the rowlet calmly flied down to perch on her shoulder and nuzzle her cheek with its beak, basically accepting her. that rowlet is now a decidueye, and if gengar is her shadow, decidueye is her guardian.
once gathering the regions’ medals, she rose quickly through the ranks and became a respected gym leader specializing in ghost-types. she wasn’t just strong in battle, she also taught tactics, reading opponents, and creative strategy. she was a mentor figure to many up-and-coming trainers, and it didn’t help the fact that kaia was both very nice and very very pretty, so…
however, she’s no longer part of the league. she’s currently an educator, but not an actual professor. she focuses on teaching battle theory, pokémon-human psychology, and understanding how culture and history shape strategy. she’s also known as someone who is always researching something.
she started poking into league politics, shadow pokémon rumors, and found traces of organized crime activity because she wanted to gather information for her latest research. itzara wasn’t like this before, why is everything so brutal now? in her research, she wrote harmless-looking papers on folklore, ruin history, and ghost psychology, but in her analysis there were patterns that, to the right eyes, hinted at corruption in itzara. she didn’t even realize what she was piecing together until the accusations came— that she had been spotted in ruins at odd hours! visiting shadow activity sites! even speaking with people who later came under investigation!
to law enforcement and on paper, her whereabouts were very suspicious. in reality, she was just gathering material for her writing! chasing old myths! and asking questions that, by chance, brushed too close to truths she wasn’t meant to touch, but how was she supposed to know that! once, she asked something in a seminar, a casual and innocent question about unusual trainer networks, that made at least one official stiffen in his seat.
her removal from the league was never official, just a quiet exit. there was no public scandal nor a courtroom scene nor a you’re fired! moment, just a pushing-out that left everyone else creating their own version of the truth. to itzarans, she just “took a step back” and to her, it felt like being edged out of a conversation she wasn’t even aware she’d joined! she couldn’t deny the evidence against her, aka the records placing her in the wrong places, even if she knew the reasons behind them were harmless. so she accepted it and retreated to her shrine, taking her post at the training school instead.
she’s one of the few people actively connecting the dots when it comes to itzara but sadly, the league is aware of this, hence her being quietly monitored by law enforcements and the league itself. however, her calm life and steady routines convince most that she’s no longer a threat, but the eyes never vanish entirely. sometimes they drift, leaving just enough space for her to slip back into asking, connecting, gathering and writing.
personality-wise, kaia is the same (kind, calm, sly) just add the fact that she carries some kind of supernatural awareness that makes her sense when something is wrong before anyone speaks and that she is kinda creepy tbh 🤷
psychic gym leader, medic/scientist, shadow pokémon researcher. twenty nine years old. itzara native and resident. specializes in fairy and psychic type pokémon and in the medical and engineering field. known for her fatigued yet morally grounded presence; commanding her team through psychic bonds. her team consists of gardevoir, primarina, vileplume, espeon, absol, and volcarona.
poppy grew up in the shadow of her father’s legacy. he was once a renowned psychic-type gym leader, respected for his intelligence, sharp mind, and powerful team through itzara, but when he spoke out against certain league decisions (basically, he started questioning the rise of aggression in pokémon and the methods used to “cure” them), his health declined almost overnight and to this day, no one knows how such a healthy man had such an ending. whether coincidence or consequence, he was forced into retirement, leaving the gym to his then seventeen years old daughter, who hesitantly stepped up with her just evolved gardevoir at her side.
her bond with gardevoir is an unshakable thing since poppy was a child. she basically grew up with it, first as a ralts who echoed her thoughts before she could even speak them out loud. gardevoir has been her anchor ever since: protecting her in battle, reminding her through telepathy when she forgets to rest or take her medicine, and always present like a second conscience. alongside it are espeon, once an eevee gifted by her father, and primarina, given to her as a popplio by the local professor who thought “poppy and popplio” was too funny to resist. those three form the heart of her personal team, with vileplume, absol, and volcarona completing the circle of empathy and judgment she commands through psychic bonds.
her mother, meanwhile, runs the solari sanctuary: a public home for pokémon care and rehabilitation, a place marketed as a safe haven for those harmed by the many threats of itzara. but beneath its wholesome and glittery image, the sanctuary has ties to organized crime poppy hasn’t fully uncovered, even though she is the president’s daughter and even worked there once #nepobaby however, instead of being allowed a central role there, she was quietly placed in her own clinic near the main city. officially to lead as head medic, unofficially to keep her separate from the sanctuary’s inner workings. it kinda leaves her in a strange place tbh, close enough to seem complicit, but too far to know the truth.
in her clinic, poppy does whatever she wants. she accepts the league’s medicines when they’re delivered, then sets them aside and brews her own formulas instead with alterations that heal pokémon faster, restore their strength more gently, and sometimes mend wounds the official meds couldn’t handle. when asked why her patients recover quicker, she only shrugs and offers a dry, “i guess i just have a good hand.” everyone accepts it, though the truth is that she doesn’t trust the league’s medicine at all. her constant partner in this is a porygon-z the engineers at the solari sanctuary dismissed outright, but poppy thought differently. basically a case of “porygon2 may be theirs but you are mine!”
as a gym leader, poppy isn’t beloved the way her father and some of her peers are. she radiates fatigue and disinterest, looking challengers dead in the eye with the expression of someone who doesn’t like them and doesn’t care if they know it. her battles are precise, elegant, and unrelenting, but her presence is unnerving. she doesn’t hide her boredom, doesn’t fake kindness, and yet, trainers leave with the uneasy sense that she saw more than what she said, that she judged them in ways they’ll never understand.
though she rarely speaks against the league, she watches everything and notices things. she remembers kaia’s quiet removal from the league, her father’s sudden health decline, the way injured pokémon sometimes arrive at her clinic in states that no ordinary accident could explain. she suspects the league is behind it all but knows how quickly they silence anybody who speaks up. so she waits and observes and keeps her theories close, her research quiet, her purifying chamber a secret, her notes disguised as harmless studies from what she gathered from kaia’s research and conversations with her, and even the little her father told her before his death. she works not only to heal pokémon but to soften their hearts, a goal she knows the league would never approve of.
at twenty-nine, poppy carries the exhaustion of someone who has lived too many lives at once: daughter of a fallen gym leader, medic for a region drowning in corruption, heir to a sanctuary she doesn’t trust, and reluctant figurehead of a gym she never asked to inherit. she is calm, morally grounded, but unsettling in her quiet refusal to play the part expected of her.
influencer, kind of a celebrity, pokémon trainer, shadow pokémon researcher. twenty seven years old. hoenn native, itzara resident. specializes in fairy and fighting type pokémon. known for their bright personality, social media presence, stylish battles, and strong bonds with pokémon. pokémon team consists of altaria, lucario, arcanine, rockruff, bewear, tinkaton, and although she doesn’t send her to battle, a shadow togepi.
yaoyao is a hoenn native that made a name for herself not in the league, but in contests. before being a trainer, she was an idol— famous, flashy, radiant, the kind of idol whose altaria stole every spotlight. altaria wasn’t just her contest partner, she was her first true rival in battle as a kid, too. yaoyao still remembers spilling a bag of berries as a child and having to fight the then wild swablu over them 😭 somehow, they became inseparable after none of them won because the then stufful ate all of the berries when they were distracted. that bond, both playful and stubborn, carried through every contest and every performance, until altaria became not just her partner but her signature.
her lucario, on the other hand, has always been her constant companion. he was the first pokémon she ever hatched herself from an egg she was taking care of, and from the start, he followed her everywhere, let it be training, performing, or traveling around the world. if altaria is her showstopper, lucario is her anchor.
yaoyao eventually retired from contests and that kind of public life, but not because she lost interest, but because she wanted to see the world! she wandered through regions, posting her travels and photography, sharing stories, and her social media only grew bigger with every post. everywhere she went, people knew her. when the media mogul of itzara, someone who is part of the elite four, realized how much influence she had within social media, he invited her to visit and stay as long as she wanted. she arrived ready to be the shining face of the region, to inspire trainers, to spread joy, to show the world how amazing and perfect itzara was. she sold that image effortlessly with her styled battles, her streams, fan interactions, and mentoring the next generation of trainers. everyone loved her, and she loved seeing the light in their eyes.
but then she found the togepi.
it was small, trembling, heart closed tight, and every time she held it, her own chest ached. at first, she assumed it had been injured by wild pokémon, nothing more, but as she started asking questions (quietly, carefully) she realized the truth: that this wasn’t an accident. the pokémon had been hurt by humans, by shadow activity, by manipulation, by things no one wanted/refused to talk about. every question she asked, every careful conversation she had, made her understand how much she had unknowingly been selling— a perfect, rose colored, idealized image of a region that was quietly rotting in the shadows.
it was that shadow togepi that made her start seeing through the performance. she didn’t stop working completely (streams, battles, appearances still happened, and they were still perfect) but behind the smile, she was noticing and connecting dots the wrong people didn’t want her to. quietly, she pulled at threads, investigated without drawing attention, watched without raising suspicion. everyone still saw the radiant former idol, the perfect face of itzara, but no one suspected how much she was piecing together.
and in the process, she basically told kaia and poppy to get the fuck up too!! she wanted to heal her togepi, yes, that’s her baby i can not stress this enough, but she also wanted to make sure nothing like this could happen again. the injustice lit a fire in her because there was a lot going on in itzara, but she learned to hide it behind her usual charm and warmth. she wasn’t just a pretty and happy face, she was a force and a catalyst, too, someone quietly shaking the system without anyone realizing it.
personality-wise, yaoyao is still radiant, still warm, still effortlessly charming and humorous, but now there’s curiosity, grief, anger and pure hope in her essence. she can still make people smile, still rally fans and trainers, but she also notices the fear, the hesitation, and the shadow lurking just out of sight. the public thinks she’s still just an idol with a big following, but those who look closer know that yaoyao is someone who sees the truth and yeah, she won’t stop until her togepi and those other poor pokémon are safe.
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ever since you mentioned it i've been curious about kny!hiraeth 👀 would you ever want to info dump about that?? if so then 🤲 i'm waiting with open arms to embrace the info dump! loved the pokemon one – don't be afraid to share more on that too if you ever want to! hope you and the sillies are doing well <333
kny!hiraeth au mentioned let’s fawking goooooo 😭😭 i am so so soo happy u asked me this because i’ve been craaaaaazy about this one after watching the first part of infinity castle and finishing my yearly manga re-read a few days ago :D
i will be honest, my kny au is kind of all over the place because i really like to play with different routes instead of sticking to my "original plan" because who is going to check me?! hence me struggling with knowing what’s canon or not sometimes, so if this little info dump is all over the place… yeah… however i don’t think too much of my indecisiveness because i’m doing the au for myself anyway ^___^ these are MY aus, i can bring kyojuro back to life in one or keep him 6 feet underground in another!!
of reason, of spirit, of desire is a kimetsu no yaiba au where i shamelessly throw my sillies into the world of one of my many hyperfixations, while also taking the space for me to deepen the development of my favorite canon characters, such as the shinazugawa brothers, tanjiro, and many more!! this au explores grief, self-acceptance, duty, found family, trauma, the hurting, the healing, the loving, and the quiet but aching beauty of choosing to live anyway. while set within the canon timeline up through the hashira training arc and stopping before everyone is sent to hell to defeat muzan because i really wanted to do some more development, a few changes have been made here and there such as the characters' ages being aged up!
the name/au is inspired by plato’s theory of the soul! basically, his belief that the soul is divided into three parts (reason (poppy), spirit (yaoyao), and desire (kaia)) which is very hiraeth coded even in another universe, don’t you think? ^___^ he saw harmony between them as the mark of a just human being and imbalance as the root of chaos. this theory has always been in hiraeth’s moodboard and since i’m also exploring themes such as healing, identity, grief, and self-acceptance, it felt only natural to add one of their many inspos into this au.
also, yes… yes!!!!!!! i wanted my girls to kiss my favorite characters obviously but that’s just a plus 😂 #KaiaSanemiAreRealToMe!!!!!!!! most of what i’m going to dump here is going to be copy pasted from the og docs so enjoy! :)
kaia’s visual inspiration: holo, nicole, navia
name. hiiragi kaoru
alias. kaia, the soul of the corps, the mourning flower, ghost girl, fox
her birth name was kaoru, meaning fragrance, purity, and tradition. it was the name of a shrine maiden, a daughter of the small hiiragi bloodline. her parents chose it with care, and her sister used to sing it. it belonged to someone gentle, sacred, and whole. but after the demon destroyed her village at the age of thirteen, kaoru felt like a name she no longer deserved.
when the kakushi asked her name, she said kaia. not to forget, but to survive. kaia was who learned to fight. who bore the grief. who found her way through blood and ash. she didn’t reject her past or what had happened to her village, her shrine, and her family, she just couldn’t carry it by name anymore.
kaoru still lives in her heart, though. she loves it, even if it hurts to hear it. only those she truly trusts get to say it, those who don’t mourn her.
affiliation. the hiiragi clan, demon slayers corp.
occupation. hashira, shrine maiden.
breathing style. soul breathing, created by her, derived by water breathing.
gyomei knew she wouldn’t stay on the stone breathing path.
he accepted her as a tsuguko not to pass on his technique, but to mentor her spirit and help her find her own breath.
soul breathing isn’t a derivative of stone but her time with gyomei gave her the emotional discipline and inner strength to forge her own style with his teachings anchoring it.
once a sacred exorcism swordplay meant to guide spirits to peace, it is now wielded to drag demons into the afterlife by force. she moves silently, almost like a ghost. her swordplay is calm and ceremonial but heavy with grief and rage. her presence feels like a funeral rite: beautiful, quiet, and haunting.
she's an offensive, speed-based fighter whose soul literally carries the dead with her.
once named kaoru, hiiragi kaia was born to be the final shrine maiden of her bloodline. raised deep in the mountains, she tended to the sacred sanctuary of her village, guiding spirits and performing rites meant to keep the world in balance. she was never meant to wield a blade, only prayer, dance, flowers, and silk.
but when a demon with rainbow eyes razed her home, kaia survived. not because she fought, but because she ran, as her older sister commanded. afterward, she wrapped everybody she could find in silk, fingers torn and bleeding by the end. when the sun rose, she began walking, aimless and half-dead, until she was found by a demon slayer and begged to be recruited and trained.
gyomei himejima took her in. not to pass on his breathing style, but to steady her. he saw something fragile but unyielding in her. she changed her name to kaia, a quieter form of “kaoru,” choosing to carry her past not as a name but as a shadow. her soul breathing (once an elegant, sacred sword dance meant to guide spirits to peace) became something else entirely: a weapon to drag demons into the afterlife by force.
she moves like a ghost. she’s silent, fast, and unreadable. her swordplay is calm and ceremonial, but laced with unbearable grief and fury. her presence feels like a funeral rite: beautiful, but quiet, and she fights fast since her soul quite literally carries the weight of the dead with her.
though she is known for her gentle, rather maternal and calm presence, there’s something very strange in her stillness! something unknowable that unsettles the reckless. and yet, when she chooses to be playful, there’s a glint in her eyes that makes people think of a fox, or an orange cat in the sun, all warmth and cleverness and hidden claws.
kaia became a hashira after killing fifty demons as a kinoe, not out of vengeance but out of duty. she still searches for the rainbow-eyed demon that destroyed her home. but quietly, always quietly because she fights not for herself, but for the ones who no longer can.
one.
he heard the footsteps before he saw her.
soft. slow. unfittingly light.
he turned with a sharp scowl, ready to snap at whatever fool thought it was a good idea to stroll into an active demon zone like it was a festival path.
and there she stood.
a girl— short, wide-eyed beneath the fog, white sleeves soaked at the hem and hands clasped behind her back. she smiled at him like he hadn’t just glared knives into her, and the first thing she said was,
“you must be shinazugawa sanemi?”
he blinked.
“are you lost?” he barked, voice sharp like flint.
she tilted her head. then, she shook her head.
“no.”
“then what are you doing here?”
her lips quirked. “i was assigned to support you tonight.”
support. her?
he looked her up and down, eyes trailing over the slight build, the soft edges, the way she stood like she didn’t know what danger meant. her voice was too gentle. her smile was wrong. she didn’t reek of steel or fire or anger— just lilacs and rain and whatever damned patience she had for smiling at a man like him.
“they sent you?” he scoffed, stepping forward, tone low and cutting. “you’re softer than rice paper. you’ll be dead before nightfall.”
she didn’t flinch. didn’t lose the smile, either, as she tilted her head.
“then i’ll just have to prove you wrong.”
he clenched his jaw.
the audacity.
two.
“they’re not vermin. they’re holy foxes! and they remember people, you know.”
he crossed his arms. “they remember who feeds them. not the same thing.”
“no,” she said lightly, “but they also remember who scared them off with a sword once.”
he stiffened.
kaia only turned, lashes low, and smiled at him.
“you’re lucky they’re forgiving.”
he grunted and glanced toward the trees, where a few of the braver foxes had started creeping forward, their white paws silent against the moss. one paused to sniff the edge of her robe before darting closer to the bowl she’d set beside her.
kaia looked up at him again.
“come feed them with me.”
sanemi made a face like she’d asked him to chew glass.
“not happening.”
“just a little,” she coaxed. “it’s tradition. shrine visitors who feed the foxes are said to receive a lot of blessings.”
“i don't need shit.”
she tilted her head. “you’re not scared, are you?”
“of what? tiny gods in tiny fur coats?”
“mm,” she said, lashes fluttering as she smiled. “you didn’t say that when you met me.”
he froze.
she knew exactly what she was doing. that slow, deliberate blink of hers. the way her lips curled, just a little smug. the way her voice went gentle and low, like she was telling a secret to someone she trusted not to run with it.
“i wasn’t scared of you,” he muttered.
“no,” she said, softly, “you were just mad at me for being a thorn at your side.”
he rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitched.
quick note: kaia is the reason why i even threw them into the kny world. why? because i thought she would be amazing at ragebaiting sanemi into liking her back LMAOOOO 😂 i’ve gone down different routes when it comes to her, such as an au where she’s just a shrine maiden who was saved by him and another one where she is still gyomei’s tsuguko, but yeah it all goes back to her and sanemi smacking lips and him being ragebaited by her because they are meant to be and well i did create this au to make them kiss #RealLove
traveled to japan as a child under the guise of becoming a dance apprentice, a cultural performer program backed by upper-class sponsors. during the taisho era, japan was opening more trade and cultural channels with korea (then under japanese rule), so it wouldn’t be uncommon for a young, gifted korean dancer to be “brought over” as part of cultural showcases or entertainment for the nobility, so…
breathing style. bloom breathing, created by her, inspired by flame and flower breathing.
her breathing style is a deadly, graceful sword style inspired by flowers' life cycles blooming on fire: basically growth, beauty, and decay. every form is like a garden in motion, beautiful and sharp, almost like a dance. she’s an offensive/agility/stamina-heavy fighter and rarely defends herself, which leads to frequent injuries and suicidal gossips. her swordplay has flower breathing roots but includes custom flame-based forms as tribute to what the rengokus taught her.
born as kim hwayoung, poppy grew up in japan after relocating from korea as a child through a cultural exchange. under the guise of becoming a dance apprentice in a performer program backed by upper-class sponsors, she and her parents settled in a district known for entertainment and arts. her family had little, but they had each other, at least until the night her father went into the woods to find herbs for her fever and never came back.
no one could explain his disappearance. only later did they learn what killed him: a demon.
the grief shattered her mother. rage, sorrow, and desperation twisted into cruelty, and soon hwayoung’s home became a quiet hell. her mother’s hands, once gentle, turned violent. her dancing was still demanded, but now it was for older, leering guests. hwayoung shrank inside herself, small and unreadable, but became used to it.
then came the night her mother returned twitching, glassy-eyed and snarling, freshly attacked by a demon. hwayoung didn't scream. she just grabbed the nearest hairpin and started killing something that wasn’t her mother. again and again. no hesitation. no regret. not even when her mother cried out her name.
she was still at it when the then flame hashira, shinjuro rengoku, found her.
instead of abandoning her, he brought her to kagaya ubuyashiki. he renamed her poppy, after the red flowers that bloom in blood-disturbed earth, and the oldest rengoku raised her as his ward. she trained alongside his oldest son, the sun to her moon, and eventually became his tsuguko when the former flame hashira gave up on his position as hashira. they shared a bond that ran deep, and when he died, part of her died too.
her breathing style is a haunting blend of flower and flame, each form mimicking a flower’s life cycle. her movements are fast, agile, and relentless, often compared to a blooming garden devouring itself. she rarely defends herself, choosing to push forward even through injury. her self-endangering style led to rumors of suicidal tendencies, but she never responds to them.
personality-wise, poppy is quiet and unreadable. kind hearted but distant, emotionally absent unless she trusts you. her expressions are faint, her humor dry and strange, and her loyalty, once earned, is unshakable. she’s closest to kaia, and has a quiet understanding with shinobu, giyuu, and gyomei.
under her beauty and grace lies something wounded and watchful. people think her softness is fragility, but really, it’s what’s left after surviving things no one should. kyojuro brought her back to life once, with warmth and purpose. now, even in grief, she keeps going. slowly, steadily. blooming still.
one.
training became routine. the clang of wooden swords, the bark of shinjuro’s commands, the rhythm of breath and motion. cicadas wailed through the trees, the air thick with summer heat. poppy moved like a ghost still, but there was something different now in the young girl.
something beginning to stir beneath her silence.
she started watching him.
not all at once. not obviously. but during their sparring drills, or when shinjuro had them practicing strikes on separate ends of the courtyard, her eyes would drift. her footwork would falter. her stance would pause for half a second too long.
kyojuro noticed.
not because he was trying to, but because her gaze felt like sunlight on his skin. quiet. questioning. a little shy.
and he liked it.
his swordplay grew bolder. not to show off, never that, but to lift her eyes, to make her wonder. he started offering more smiles when they passed each other. short greetings. little waves. when she didn’t respond, he didn’t take it to heart.
but he saw the way her fingers loosened at her sleeves when he got close.
he noticed when she stopped flinching at his laughter.
one morning, mid-swing, he caught her watching again: mouth parted just slightly, eyes wide, like he’d done something impossible.
he nearly missed his target.
and then, later that afternoon, when they were fetching water from the well, her voice cracked the silence for the very first time.
soft. almost like she wasn’t sure it was allowed.
“… you are good, kyojuro.”
he turned.
froze.
he didn’t say anything at first, just stared at her like the sky had opened above them, like she’d pulled sunlight from her throat and handed it to him with both hands.
his whole face lit up.
“you said my name!” he practically shouted, voice bright with glee.
she startled.
her shoulders tensed, her eyes flicking downward again.
but when he beamed, wide and warm and so, so proud, something about her posture shifted.
not entirely relaxed. not yet.
but her hands weren’t curled so tightly anymore.
“thank you,” he said, suddenly gentle, his voice like crackling firewood. “what you said. it made me really happy.”
she didn’t answer.
but she nodded.
two.
it happens at dawn.
the sky is still pink with sleep, dew still clinging to every leaf, and the morning air stings her skin in the softest way. her lungs still burn sometimes. her legs ache just standing. but today, she doesn’t care.
today, she wants to try.
the courtyard of the butterfly mansion is quiet, save for the rustling of wind-chimes and birdsong. most of the estate is still asleep, but poppy, wrapped in layers to brace against the cool, pale morning, walks barefoot onto the stone with nothing but her breath, her scars, and the sword she hasn’t touched in over three months.
it’s not her newest blade. it’s the one she used during the fight. the one they pulled from her near-lifeless body, but no longer stained with blood. someone had cleaned it, polished it, and placed it at the foot of her bed like a promise: when you’re ready.
her fingers tremble as she bends to pick it up.
steel meets skin.
cold and familiar.
weighty. comforting. terrifying.
her grip falters.
her arms shake.
she’s not sure if her body remembers how to do this anymore.
but she lifts it anyway.
the breath she takes in is steady, but the breath she exhales is cracked, but full of something old. something hers.
slowly, she steps into the first motion.
the sword cuts air with a faint whisper. not as clean as it once was, not as quick, but real.
the second movement is tighter. painful. her ribs scream at the twist of her torso, but she doesn’t stop.
she closes her eyes and lets muscle memory take over. her breathing is uneven, her footwork is off, and tears bite at her eyes. not from emotion, but from the cruel, ugly truth that her body is not what it once was.
she hates it.
she hates how weak she feels.
you should’ve died, her body whispers. you should’ve died back there.
quick note: originally, kyojuro was supposed to stay dead in my au (hence the crossed out phrase and the last piece) and, yeah! i did write about her dealing with her grief and her eventually finding comfort in friendships she didn’t think she needed and in herself, but there was just sooooo much potential with her and kyojuro that i had to push my og plan to the side and give them a different route where he actually lives after the mugen train arc 😩 everything above this was written when i already was set on my og idea, where everything stays canon and kyojuro did die, but just know i’m actively stuck in a route where she is still his tsuguko and another one that is her dealing with grief and blooming :p also know that she’s somewhere out there making giyuu stutter………..
yaoyao’s visual inspiration: jahoda, tsukino usagi, himiko toga
name. liu yaoyao
alias. double yao, ribbon rat (from inosuke), little star (from uzui), flying nuisance (from uzui. lovingly.), spider-man (hell yeah), yvan (stage name)
ethnicity. chinese
she came to japan as a child performer with her family's traveling chinese circus, the cirque yaoguang. during the taisho era, cultural exchange between east asian countries was quietly flourishing, especially in port cities and noble circles eager for foreign entertainment. the cirque yaoguang, known for their breathtaking acrobatics, fire dances, and silk aerials, was invited to tour parts of japan as part of a sponsored showcase.
yaoyao was their youngest performer, a tightrope prodigy who danced through the air like she was born to it.
they weren’t wealthy, but they loved what they did. theirs was a life of color, music, and movement.
she saw japan not as a destination but as another stop. another sky to dance under.
affiliation. the cirque yaoguang, demon slayers corp.
occupation. demon slayer, hinoe rank
breathing style. frost breathing. it’s a self-developed style yaoyao’s still perfecting. it carries echoes of sound breathing, the first style she ever witnessed, but where sound disrupts, frost stills. elegant, relentless, and deceptively quiet, it suits her aerial form: every spin, flip, and slash is timed like a falling snowflake. it’s hers alone, shaped by instinct and the need to keep moving even when everything burns.
due to the fact that she's still perfecting her style breathing, using it scorches from the inside out, freezing her core until it aches like burning ice. her finger tips often betray her struggle despite her smiles, usually paling to near-white, and tingling as if the frost is claiming them first. she rarely uses her breathing because of this, though she does when it's necessary.
she fights like an acrobat, all flips, swings, and midair twists, using rooftops and trees like a stage.
her style blends speed, stamina, and flexibility, with fast offense and unpredictable movement that keeps demons off-balance. but she gets hurt often because yaoyao is both reckless and bold.
she does stupid brave shit constantly, dives into danger headfirst, and laughs through the pain. she’s been impaled, concussed, stabbed, and still finds a way to get up. the butterfly mansion has a special futon just for her, and kocho shinobu knew her by name way before the boy with the earrings was known.
born yaoyao to a nomadic chinese circus family, she grew up on silk ropes, tightropes, fire dances, and laughter. her family performed across coastal asia and parts of japan, known for their daring aerial stunts and theatrical pageantry. it was during one of these tours that a demon attack tore through their troupe, leaving yaoyao the sole survivor. she lived because she ran, climbed, and leapt between burning tents, armed with nothing but a knife and a rope. tengen uzui found her collapsed under a ruined rig. after being found by him, she was given a choice, to keep running or to fight. she chose to fight. what else could she do, anyway?
now a hinoe-ranked demon slayer, yaoyao is a whirlwind of motion and light, known as much for her dazzling acrobatics and frost breathing as for her easy, warm smile that somehow cuts through the cold of her breathing style. she uses her theatrics (the loud talk, the dramatic flips, the unpredictable moves, her friendly personality) not just as a fighting technique but as a shield, a way to hide the fear underneath. deep down, yaoyao struggles with what it really means to stay somewhere, to hold on, and that uncertainty fuels her restless energy and reckless bravery. she’s fiercely loyal and bold, often getting hurt because she throws herself headfirst into danger, laughing through the pain to keep the fear at bay.
everyone in the corps knows her, or at least remembers her— the girl with the strawberry blonde hair braided into wild buns and decorated with mismatched ribbons and trinkets, the one whose frost breathing flows like frozen silk but whose heart is warm enough to light up a room.
yaoyao’s bravado is a mask, but it’s also her strength. it's a bright thread woven from loss, courage, and the hope that maybe, someday, she’ll figure out what it means to truly stay.
one.
they don’t call her a tsuguko. not really.
not when she hasn’t passed final selection, not when she’s still in borrowed clothes and patched slippers, not when she keeps getting handed off like she’s a problem to be solved, like a troublesome cat, not a student to be trained.
“too dramatic,” someone mutters.
“too small,” says another.
“too stubborn,” adds a third, as if that seals it.
she hears it all. she always does. but she never leaves.
no matter how many times she’s dismissed, she shows up the next morning with her hair pulled back too tight, cheeks flushed from effort, fists clenched like she can will her body into strength. she eats too little and moves too fast and tries too hard. but she tries. gods, she tries.
sometimes, when she thinks no one’s looking, she scales the training pines barefoot and hangs upside down from a high branch, breath held, arms spread. just to remind herself what it felt like to fly.
one morning, after yet another sparring session where her opponent refused to take her seriously (mocking her stance, her height, the way she moved like she was dancing not fighting), she scales the nearest tree mid-match, pushes off the top branch, and lands in a perfect aerial twist… directly on the boy’s head.
the crack of him collapsing echoes through the courtyard. everyone freezes.
tengen uzui bursts out laughing.
“she’s not impossible,” he says as she scrambles up to perch on the dojo’s roof, squatting like a feral cat with a bloodied lip, a triumphant grin, and a booming laugh. “she’s just loud.”
the others stare like she’s feral.
but tengen sees something else.
he sees a girl with soot in her hair and fire in her bones. a girl who never cries when she’s told to leave, only when no one’s looking. a girl with rope scars around her wrists and a starburst scar beneath her eye, who sleeps with a blade tucked under her pillow, who still sometimes wakes screaming in mandarin no one else understands.
he sees her now—perched in the morning sun, sweat glistening on her brow, defiant and proud and still so small.
“yaoyao,” he calls, stepping into the ring. “you wanna train or fly today?”
she peers down, nose scrunched, eyes gleaming.
“why not both?”
two.
he heard the shift of the demon’s weight.
he did not hear the girl.
fwip—THWUMP.
something dropped from the trees. fast. a blur of motion, silk and muscle twisting midair. she landed hard on the demon’s back, blade flashing silver. one clean slice.
a shriek ripped the silence. the demon’s head hit the moss with a soft thud.
tanjiro didn’t move.
he blinked.
the girl stood there in a crouch, cream colored haori half-loose around her shoulders, blade still humming in her hand. she looked over her shoulder with a crooked little smile.
“hi,” she said, light and unbothered.
tanjiro stared.
she rose in one fluid motion, flipped her sword onto her back. “wasn’t trying to steal it,” she added, nodding to the corpse. “it just… got in my way.”
only then did he place her.
those eyes. light-blue and starlit. full of stars.
she was there. at the start of all this. three days ago. the girl by the wisteria trees, too small for her blade, but grinning anyway.
“…it's fine,” he murmured.
she grinned, like they were old friends meeting on the street. “i'm yaoyao.”
he straightened, surprised by how solid that name felt now. “kamado tanjiro.”
her grin widened just a touch. “nice to meet you again, tanjiro.”
then she turned—already slipping into motion again, steps light and quick. but just before vanishing into the trees, she tossed something over her shoulder:
“when we get out of here, we should make a shirt. ‘i survived the final selection and all i got was this bloody haori.’ you in?”
tanjiro opened his mouth, but she was already gone, disappearing like smoke through the branches.
he stood there for a moment, sword still in hand.
“…what just happened,” he said softly.
three.
he finished cleaning the wound in silence.
his knuckles grazed her waist once, and he pulled back like he’d touched fire.
she didn’t move.
just blinked slow, then leaned back on her hands, breath soft in her throat.
the fire outside the window crackled. somewhere down the hall, someone laughed too loud.
“they’re talking about you,” she murmured, almost absently. “the rookies. said you snapped on that guy. said you got protective.”
“stupid.”
“i think it’s cute.”
his head snapped up.
she smiled. not teasing, just tired and honest. “you care, genya.”
“yeah, well,” he said, looking away. “you’re annoying.”
“so you’ve told me,” she said, stretching out on the mat with a slow, pained exhale. “like, six hundred times.”
“seven hundred.”
“oh noooooo.”
he didn’t move. just watched her for a moment longer.
the firelight danced across her cheeks. her hair was loose again, a few strands sticking to her forehead. her little bell-tipped drawstrings swayed faintly with each breath.
“get some sleep,” he said gruffly. “shadow.”
she was already drifting when she answered, voice slurred by exhaustion. “you too, watchdog.”
and maybe it meant nothing.
and maybe it meant everything.
quick note: not going to lie friends… this au made me realize how shippable she is when i actually try LAWL i really wanted her to be part of the kamaboko squad and for her to have some flirty girl kissing moments with either aoi and kanao, especially kanao tbh… and well, i ended up loving the idea of both genya / tanjiro with her too 😭 Yes, somewhere out there Bisexual Yaoyao exists… i love her story because she’s part of multiple canon events and it’s very very fun to include her in shit!!!! plus yaoyao is just very fun to play with!! but because i ended up shipping her with like. everyone. idk what’s real or not but my heart says that her and genya? Endgame… hell there’s even routes of her with shinobu and zenitsu now that i'm thinking about it LMAOOO
THE MEMBERS OF HIRÆTH @ the angels and their vessels.
" good and evil people are not clearly distinguished. good and evil coexist within one person. even if one seems good, greed and temptation always exist together inside. we simply try to resist being captivated by evil. "
ACT I ⸺ you carried your family’s name with pride and honor, but they neither cared nor appreciated it. you spent years trying to earn their approval: excelling in extracurriculars, providing for them after long hours of work, devoting yourself to your family’s shrine, and becoming a standout in a japanese idol group where you were loved by many, crowned the princess of japan at just eleven. you were admired and adored, but that adoration came with whispers behind your back, cold shoulders when the cameras turned off, and the kind of hostility that festers in the cracks of spotlight and success. and yet, you stayed, hoping that it would be enough for… your family? your group? maybe both. maybe neither, because their indifference never changed. every night, you cried yourself to sleep because you were empty and exhausted, but you kept telling yourself that it didn’t matter, that you were fine with this reality. but if none of it mattered, why does your blood still run hot every time you remember?
ACT II ⸺ you disappeared at fifteen years old, when she told you she could make your dream come true: to be loved for your talent, and for being entirely, unapologetically yourself, but only if you joined her exclusive angel project. and, ironically, that’s when your family suddenly started to care. the most popular theory was that a fan had kidnapped you, and that your body was being worshipped in some shrine somewhere. you still cringe the same way now as you did the first time you heard it.
ACT III ⸺ you are the main rapper, the lead dancer, and the leader of hiraeth. you’re the glue that holds the group together: nurturing, bright, always the one to bring the fun into the group’s concept, and the one trusted with every word you all sing. you’re still known as the princess of japan, and widely regarded as one of the generation’s best leaders, not just for your talent, but for the way your group thrives under your care. hiraeth moves the way it does because of you: your patience, your instinct, your ability to speak for them when the rest of the world is listening. and while fans might beg for you to take center stage, you’re content letting your members shine first, preferring to work quietly in the background and pursue your passions on your own and at your own pace. but is it really about humility, or is it just easier to keep a low profile, hiding behind a smile too polished to provoke doubt, when the truth is... you crossed a line no one else dared to, and you’d do it again if it meant keeping the group exactly where they belong: out of harm’s way, because they’re the only family you’ve ever had.
ACT Æ ⸺ you are the angel of summer, born as a seashell drifting along the coast of a not-so-tranquil beach. you are the angel aching to break free from celestia, chasing what others call the impossible. you believe in yourself and your dreams, but faith without action is only wishful thinking, and faith without hope is nothing more than a daydream.
STAGE NAME. kaia (카이아 , カイア)
FULL NAME. hiiragi kaoru (柊かおる)
IDENTITY. cis-woman, she/her, bisexual
BIRTHDAY. 12/10/96
ZODIAC. libra
BIRTHPLACE. kagoshima, japan
LANGUAGES. fluent in japanese and korean. conversational in english and chinese.
HEIGHT. 1.68 / 5’5
MBTI. enfp
OCCUPATION. idol, songwriter, producer, composer
POSITION. leader, main rapper, lead dancer
INDIVIDUAL ACCOLADES. winner of the grand prize in the composer category at the 2018 korea best brand award. best songwriter winner at the 2020 melon music awards. best songwriter winner at the 2022 asian artist awards. and more!
OTHER ACTIVITIES.
former member of japanese girl group akb48. ‘05-‘12
league of legend’s akali in virtual groups k/da and true damage.
producer and rap mentor in the second season of fantasy boy. ‘23
japanese voice actress for navia in the video game genshin impact. ‘23
ANIMAL REPRESENTATION. cat
COLOR REPRESENTATION. sweet pink (#ea9999)
FRUIT REPRESENTATION. watermelon
“BIRTH” REPRESENTATION. mermaid seashell
ANGEL'S PRINCIPLE. faith
FACECLAIM: sana minatozaki
trigger warnings: subtle mentions of mental and physical abuse, childhood trauma, sexual harassment, mental health struggles, suicidal thoughts.
ACT I ⸺ you were born into a family of artists and performers where perfection wasn’t a choice, it was etched into your skin before you even knew what it meant. you were a delicate doll on a pedestal, polished and admired by many, all shine and no voice, never truly seen. your mother’s expectations were cold, the hands that molded you spoke with words sharp enough to cut your innocence, and the stage you once loved became a cage. every step, every turn, was a silent plea for approval, a quiet scream to feel something real. it wasn’t just the pressure, it was the kind of cruelty that seeps in slowly, leaving marks that, to this day, you still can’t explain. the silence when you asked for softness, the bruises no one cared to see, the way older eyes followed you, hungry and cruel. and still, there was music. a secret place you escaped to when no one was watching, where sound became your language, your lifeline. your perfect pitch was more than a talent, it was a breath of air in a world that never let you breathe. sadly, you weren’t made for that life, your mother once said. you made it to the top as a dancer, graceful and untouchable, a rising prima ballerina with hollow eyes. the joy had long since slipped away, and though the world called you flawless, you were just a shadow moving through the motions, smiling like you meant it, even when you didn’t.
ACT II ⸺ you disappeared at sixteen, the night you accepted a cigarette from her while hiding behind the overgrown ivy of square edouard vii, just steps from the back of the opera. it didn’t take long to convince you to join the project, honestly… your head was clouded, your eyes were tired, and your body ached from routines you no longer loved. you had no passion left for the stage, only the aching urge to disappear, to start a new chapter. the world whispered theories in your absence, of course: there was too much pressure on your shoulders! you were too young and there were too many rules! you were just a perfect little ballerina crumbling under a heavy weight! they said you’d jumped and ended it all. sometimes you wish they had been right.
ACT III ⸺ you are the visual, the main dancer, and the lead vocalist of hiraeth. you are the face everyone remembers: miss korea, the black swan, the woman who turns silence into awe with just one glance. elegance follows you like a shadow, every movement precise, and every word perfectly measured with a dash of unseriousness, because how could anyone ignore such a candid personality? your image lives on billboards, in endorsements, in headlines that never stop calling you flawless. but the life so many admire and others envy, feels distant, like something happening to someone else. most days, you drift through it with grace, yet strangely untouched, carrying an ache that never quite fades. you crave something quieter, something slower—something that feels like peace, away from the eyes that never stop watching your every move. but you stay, because somewhere along the way, your group became your refuge. your relationship with your members, performing with them, making music with them, for them, is the only thing that feels real to you. being near them helps, and you try to enjoy it— you really, really do! you let their laughter pull you back and their enthusiasm seep into you, even if only for a little while. but some nights, when the world is quiet and your thoughts won’t stop, you wonder, what would really change if you disappeared again?
ACT Æ ⸺ you are the angel of spring, born from a daisy among decayed roses. you are the angel who is stuck in the "what could have been’s" and the "what if’s" of a loop you're pretty much aware of. you were made to believe in love, but your love had turned dull when it broke. your love has been lacking faith and hope to flourish, and for love to thrive, it must be nurtured with faith and hope to make it stronger, but how can you see it if you feel nothing?
STAGE NAME. poppy (양귀비)
FULL NAME. kim hwa-young (김화영)
ENGLISH NAME. penelope kim
IDENTITY. cis-woman, she/her, bisexual
BIRTHDAY. 01/07/96
ZODIAC. cancer
BIRTHPLACE. changwon, south korea
LANGUAGES. fluent in korean, french and japanese. conversational in english and chinese. can understand some spanish.
HEIGHT. 1.57 / 5’2
MBTI. infj
OCCUPATION. idol, actress, producer, dancer, composer
POSITION. center, visual, main dancer, lead vocalist
INDIVIDUAL ACCOLADES. best new actress winner at the 2022 baeksang arts awards, korea drama awards, asian academy creative awards, and others. best producer winner at the 2022 asian artist awards, becoming the first woman recipient of the accolade in the show's history. and more!
OTHER ACTIVITIES.
student at paris opera ballet. ‘07-‘12
league of legend’s ahri in virtual group k/da.
portrayed jang-man wol in hotel del luna. ‘22
mentor in the second season of queendom. ‘22
korean voice actress for navia in the video game genshin impact. ‘23
ANIMAL REPRESENTATION. bunny
COLOR REPRESENTATION. lilac blush (#b88bd9)
FRUIT REPRESENTATION. apple
“BIRTH” REPRESENTATION. daisy
ANGEL'S PRINCIPLE. love
FACECLAIM: kim jisoo
trigger warnings: child exploitation, emotional neglect and abuse, subtle mentions of bullying, physical abuse and sexual harassment.
ACT I ⸺ you were born with a voice your father couldn’t bear to waste. by the time most kids were learning to ride bikes, you were holding notes that stopped strangers in their tracks. talent shows in china, in chicago— literally everywhere you went, you won. it wasn’t long before your name found its way onto playbills, your face into dimly lit dressing rooms where stagehands whispered they are the one to watch. young roles in local broadway productions turned you into a darling of the scene. small in stature, but larger than life. theater enthusiasts adored you, critics called you a prodigy, and your father called it business. you were mentored by people who lived and breathed the craft, molded by scripts and songs that taught you how to disappear inside other people’s stories. you learned to cry on cue, to smile through it, to take a bow with trembling hands no one ever noticed. your voice filled theaters and your name filled his pockets. and his gaze? it only ever landed on you when the applause did too. outside the stage lights, you were harder to place. too polished. too praised. way too strange, maybe. the kids at school didn’t quite know what to do with you. there were whispers, jabs, quiet isolation masked as jealousy. but none of that mattered when the curtains rose and you started singing. onstage, you were safe. you were seen. onstage, you were someone who was loved. and for a while, that was enough. or so you told yourself.
ACT II ⸺ you disappeared at fourteen, the night your father raised his hand to land a hit on you, the night you finally spoke for yourself. you weren’t his to own, to control, to force into doing things that would continue staining you and your innocence. and when you ran, you never looked back. they probably blamed him for your disappearance, but little did they know that that’s when she found you at your lowest. she promised a world of opportunities, love, and the chance to use your potential to the fullest, if only you joined her. and you were just a kid, with nowhere to belong, no family to turn to. how could you say no?
ACT III ⸺ you are the main vocalist and the face of hiraeth. you’re regarded as a golden maknae, the generation’s ithey, a name people started using after you came out as non-binary, and you’ve made history as the first idol to ever be recognized by the major associations as an actress. your voice is unmistakable and your energy is pure electric. you’re loud, talented, enthusiastic, and always saying a little bit too much, but somehow it only ever works in your favor. you’re the one brands and collaborators fight over, the one who sells out everything without even trying. it seems that everyone loves you, or at least, they love the version of you that they see every time you’re on camera. and you don’t mind. not really, because it’s fun being everywhere, being wanted and seen. you’re good at it, and you know it. but sometimes, when the noise dies down and it’s just you and your thoughts, you think about how fast everything’s moving. how high you’re climbing and how easy it might be to fall… but you want more and that hunger keeps you going, even when it scares you a little. still, there’s something kind of thrilling about chasing it anyway.
ACT Æ ⸺ you are the angel of winter, born as a drifting snowflake that fell in the snowy garden of celestia. you are the angel that doesn’t mind celestia nor the loop at all. if it means having fun over and over with the promise of always going back to zero to repeat, why would you try to escape? and you are hopeful for all the outcomes of your lives, but there is nothing to hope for without faith, determination, and love, both for others and yourself…
STAGE NAME. yvan (이반 , 伊万)
FULL NAME. yaoyao liu (姚刘)
ENGLISH NAME. yvanna liu
IDENTITY. non-binary, they/she, lesbian
BIRTHDAY. 15/06/97
ZODIAC. gemini
BIRTHPLACE. xi’an, china
LANGUAGES. fluent in chinese, korean and english. currently learning japanese.
HEIGHT. 1.70 / 5’7
MBTI. entp
OCCUPATION. idol, model, songwriter, critically acclaimed actress, producer
POSITION. maknae, main vocalist, face of the group
INDIVIDUAL ACCOLADES. best female artist winner at the 2019 mama awards, melon music awards, and global chinese music awards. best supporting actress at the 2024 academy awards, bafta awards, saga awards, golden globes, etc., making history as the first every k-pop idol to ever win an oscar. and more!
OTHER ACTIVITIES.
contestant at multiple chinese televised shows. ‘05-09
part of the chorus in various local shows. ‘05-10
portrayed the annie in chicago’s production of annie. ‘07
portrayed young cosette in chicago’s production of les misérables. ‘09-10
portrayed jane banks in new york’s production of mary poppins. ‘10-11
portrayed matilda wormwood in pre-broadway production of matilda the musical. ‘12
vocal mentor in girls planet 999. ‘22
portrayed zhang wei in web series celebrity. ‘23
voiced velvet in trolls band together. ‘23
chinese voice actress for navia in the video game genshin impact. ‘23
portrayed in the musical adaptation of rebecca as “i”. ‘24
portrayed glinda in the film adaptation of the musical wicked. ‘24
ANIMAL REPRESENTATION. puppy
COLOR REPRESENTATION. cloudy blue (#6fa8dc)
FRUIT REPRESENTATION. strawberry
“BIRTH” REPRESENTATION. snowflake
ANGEL'S PRINCIPLE. hope
FACECLAIM: yuqi song