RURUMI

stranger than heaven ໒꒱

[ruruumin]

i found a place; where i’m not alone ₊˚ෆ

⤷ "rurumi" ruruumin || twenty one. she/her. - sfw multi fandom blog. - selfships || tags || about me.

⤷ series: - siraph; phainon smau.

⤷ recent works: - new masterlist.

⤷ information: - old masterlist.

[nixscriptum]

[ruruumin]

siraph.

₊˚ෆ college au!phainon x vocalist!reader.

synopsis; on a dreary night, a nameless band and singer relieves phainon of his homesickness. determined to find her once more, their worlds collide when phainon realizes: his favorite vocalist is his classmate (name).

genres/warnings; smau, college au, classmates to lovers, profanity, timestamps don’t matter, photographs are non-representative of reader, fem!reader.

⤷ [03.15.2026] status; ongoing - updated every wed/sat.

₊˚ ୨ৎ cast of characters

the nameless || the heirs

໒꒱‧₊˚ arc 1: siraph

00 - prologue ♡ || 01 - 時間は告ぐ 02 - thor ♡ || 03 - カーテンフォール 04 - linotype || 05 - 想像の雨 ♡

໒꒱‧₊˚ arc 2: quiet squall

06 - dilatant || 07 - leap || 08 - interlude ♡

໒꒱‧₊˚ arc 3: utopia

09 - utopia || 10 - nigetai ♡ || 11 - reverse 12 - almost over || 13 - sabot

໒꒱‧₊˚ arc 4: past & current

14 - calling || 15 - damp damp  16 - fukin to asa ♡ || 17 - hyos 18 - words ♡ || 19 - new smoker 20 - so far ♡ || 21 - lens 22 - silence in the dark ♡ || 23 - immaterial ♡ 24 - finale ♡ || 25 - epilogue ♡

⋆˚࿔ 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 supplementary chapters

x1 - snippets of life || x2 - trash pickings x3 - dress code || x4 - fanfiction.net || x5 - be my tank

₊˚ ୨ৎ taglist [30/30]

@sunphais @t0r4s @sinbehavior @chxnnieee @m0reighn4 @aloudice @morichhaa @yourfavoritefreakyhan @violetisreadinghush @celesteelysia @phainons-goonbrick @kazeniya @luphyllum @potabletable @zanksa @mizuiaiiii @junoms @nicosworldoffun @veinpi @pookiei-bookie @a1-ic3 @skylions-den @kumiluvvsu @phainonsleftthigh @kaz-unidentified @fo-love @maggiforlifesstuff @tamashithe2nd @arluene7688 @2000-very-small-ants

[ruruumin]

lowk feelin a bit of burnout or disinterest in genshin ngl

[milkberyl]

‧̥˚̩̩̥͙·✧ skip, step, turn — finding yourself in someone else’s arms unexpectedly?!

‧₊˚ ┊ featuring various (albedo, lohen & illuga)/gn!reader. completed & edited an old draft. text in italics is meant to be dialogue. hope u enjoy ♥︎ !!

❤︎ᩙ albedo:

dragonspine may seem like a picturesque winter wonderland from afar but it’s actually quite cold once you get within a few meters of its vicinity. if you don’t sacrifice fashion for comfort, let klee use your coat to wrap up dodoco or simply don’t have particularly thick garments; the icy winds may tease you to the point that you embarrassingly fall over. yes, making an impromptu snow angel hadn’t been on your itinerary for the day but it might have been on albedo’s with the way his eyes are studying you.

you lie in the snow for maybe a minute or so before he scoops you up in a gesture that would have been romantic if you weren’t aware of his wholly unromantic temperament. he carries you like you’re an easel or a box of paints. trembling mouth brushing against his neck, you notice how he’s even colder as if he was the one rolling around in the snow. why is that? perhaps you’ll get an answer if you ask his auntie alice!

ah, don’t worry. i won’t inform the rest of the knights about this accident of yours. you do get quite flustered when i talk about your escapades to a crowd. but it’s only natural to speak fondly of those with whom you spend so much of your time. also, i’d prefer if you refrained from biting my neck just because you “feel like it…”

❤︎ᩙ lohen:

sulking, you sit hidden within a clump of hedges near the favonius headquarters. you can hear some dull knights shuffling about their posts. quickly scribbling down some notes, you resolve to report their laziness to jean (not to the actual grandmaster though, he’d only start laughing at you and say that you notice the most amusing of things) and prove that noelle was so much better than all of them put together! your quill only stills when you feel a familiar gloved hand wrap around your ankle. it tugs so hard that the ligament stretches, you nearly scream.

before you can react any further, you’re pulled straight out of your hiding spot like you’re nothing more than a child’s silly ragdoll. of course, it’s lohen. who else keeps such an eager eye on you? his arms lift you up while you futilely try to reach for your notebook. you let out a sniffle when his boot pushes it back into the hedges. you’ll have to come back for it later. childishly, he presses his cheek against your own. you ram your fist into his chest but it does little to hurt him the way you would like it to.

aww, don’t be like that. if the wind blows a certain way while you’re making such a scary face, it’ll be stuck like that forever! i’d still keep you around though. you’re far too cute to abandon… hey, how about you try directing your energy elsewhere? like where? why, hitting me as hard as you possibly can! if that sounds too hard, we can practice on a bag of flour first.

❤︎ᩙ illuga:

there’s this sparkling golden bird that you’re fond of playing a little game with from time to time. he’ll tug on your sleeve and lead you to some scenic little spot in Nod-Krai that you pretend you’ve never seen before and admire it until he seems satisfied with your reaction. oftentimes, this will happen when you’re quite busy and if this was a person instead of a bird who was bothering you; you’d be rather annoyed with them. you think this friend of yours belongs to someone in Piramida but you’re not exactly sure. giggling, you ask him as a joke. the bird flies off the windowsill as if to lead you towards the answer. naturally, you follow.

stumbling, twisting and turning — you’re out of breath and entirely thirsty by the time you bump into someone. half surprised, you notice that it’s a friend of that strange fae gentleman that you’ve met on occasion. the friend’s name was… illuga? once the realization that you’ve been saying whatever to this young man’s feathered companion hits, you topple over foolishly. illuga quickly catches hold of you but once you show no signs of stirring, he lets out a sigh. one arm underneath your legs and the other splayed across your back, you wish you could melt away indefinitely.

you really shouldn’t be wandering about the more dangerous parts of nod-krai unsupervised. it may seem safer these days but the terrain is still unforgiving… i’ll have to give aedon a stern talking to as well. it’s not his fault? alright, i won’t be too stern. yes, yes, i promise. i suppose he did mean well in his own way. ah, please don’t speak any more. i don’t want to hear another word from you until i’ve poured a bowl of soup down your throat.

[ruruumin]

all i dreamed of was you ໒꒱‧₊˚

she slowly reach out to touch his wrist, padding her fingers against his pulse. phainon swallows nervously. today, the doctors took off the bandages on his arm. now, she could see every scar that covered his body. unlike those battle hardened warriors in ancient picture books, he was a man—suffering too much for him to speak, waiting for the day he could never wake up from his sleep. he was no hero. he stopped being anything. he has lost faith in himself long ago.

but the look in her eyes—a feeling of warmth washes over him. unlike some nurses and doctors, she held nothing but adoration for him. while others saw these marks as a sign of weakness, that he was just crazy and stupid, she saw strength and resilience. there was hope hidden within these cracks.

no matter how hard things may be, the fact that he was still here was a miracle in itself. and all things should be celebrated and loved, no matter how small they are. 

⤷ i am incredibly thankful to work with meiko on this project. it is genuinely one of the most stunning pieces of art i've seen.

meikkochi_ socials: vgen || instagram || tiktok

[miusei]

i like lovers who beg you to be greedy

[ruruumin]

24 - finale [♡]

fidgeting with the straps of your bass, you stand before the closed curtain. although the show hasn’t started yet, there was a thin line of sweat trailing against the nape of your neck, seeping into the fabric of your clothes and reminding you of the grossness of showrunning and pride of performing. your fingers are jittery and restless. nervously grazing the fretboard, you suck in a deep breath, expanding your lungs against the tightness of your ribcage. your had turns upwards, a smile writing itself across your face. 

the last show of the year. the one most people have been waiting on the edges of their seats for. it was both an exciting yet daunting revelation. the owner of ghost town mentioned recently that as the months go by, the small crowd your band has gathered became bigger. they’ve even gotten bolder at times, holding up signs above their heads, cheering names. stelle brought up seeing familiar faces from her time at stellaron. a young, grey-haired woman and her timid companion, clutching onto her arm as they waited in the darkness, looking out for their former keyboardist. 

when the velvet curtain pulls away, you’re met with more than just blinding stage lights. while you walk towards the microphone, your eyes quickly scan the audience. under the blanket of anxious feelings and stage-fright, you’ve forgotten about phainon’s previous message. you hoped that in the far distance, you would see his blue-eyes and striking white-hair. for a second, you almost feel a little dejected, being unable to see him so easily. 

but a shout quickly breaks through your looking glass. at the very front of the crowd, phainon was there, holding a large bouquet of flowers. your friends giggle and roll their eyes. whether or not phainon bribed the owner to enter the venue with ordain arrangements, it didn’t matter as much as the thought of seeing him. you swallow a nervous gulp, pressing down the butterflies that were threatening to explode from the confines of your chest. phainon was surrounded by a few other people. one held onto his shoulder while the rest grinned with childish glee. 

phainon’s face was slightly red, most likely from the venue’s heat and adrenaline. though, for him, it must have been because he was standing beneath your light. the sight of him jumping up and down, shaking the flowers in his arms with upmost joy has you laughing. 

you bring the microphone to your lips, grinning as the crowd pulls forward: “hello everyone. welcome to ghost town, we are siraph!” adjusting your grip, your eyes look forward, staring off into the distance with a proud smile. “it has been an incredible journey performing for you. i hope our time together was well spent.”

“for us, the band, it has been everything we’ve ever wanted and more.” 

it takes everything within your body to keep the tears from flowing. you were awfully emotional today. while you were still going to perform your usual songs, there was the obvious new addition. however, it won’t be the end. if anything, it was just the beginning. after finishing your recent song, your friends decided it would be best to release a digital album. you’ve kept this fact hidden from phainon, knowing how excited he would be—not having to recite your songs in his head, but play your voice on the stereo. 

your fingers tighten themselves on your strings. the audience is looking up at you with anticipation. some lick their lips, others turn to their friends, whispering amongst themselves. silverwolf and firefly kept to themselves in the corner, the former leaning against the wall with a cool expression. phainon’s shoulder is constantly getting shook by the woman with pink hair. her excitement is palpable. a reflection of the crowd’s excitement. 

“to show our appreciation, we’re performing our newest song for our next album: risk.” the stage light dims slightly. not as blaring as it was at the beginning of your entrance. it has a warmer tone. something soft. tender and comforting. a perfect kind of mood. although your group rarely makes changes to your lighting, stelle wanted the atmosphere to be just right. 

your cupids bow makes brief contact with the cool metal of your microphone: “this is forefront.” 

march 7th takes the lead, bouncing her drumsticks against the tom and cymbal. your hands quickly adjust themselves, nails grazing alongside the thick strings of your bass. your feet instinctively tap themselves on the ground, following the rhythm march 7th had set out for you. even though you’ve spent most of your time on stage unmoving, the beat of your newest song has you swaying back and forth. 

the song is broken up into different sections, each being sung by your friends. you chose to focus on the intro and chorus, stelle and march 7th created the verse and pre-chorus, and dan heng took the refrain and bridges. you thought it was sweet that stelle and march 7th suggested doing a short duet together. you suppose it shouldn’t be so much of a surprise that after all these years, they would basically be the second pair in your band. 

everything was slowly falling into place. the crowd was on their toes, leaning forward to hear your voice. dan heng was shifting, eyes narrowing with careful precision as he lands a difficult set of chords. march 7th was smiling despite the sweat pouring down the back of her neck. her feet were constantly bouncing with energy, hands busying themselves with the rhythm of everyone’s instruments. stelle was occasionally glancing at silverwolf and firefly, watching as they gave her a simple thumbs up of encouragement. though you couldn’t help but feel as if there was something missing.

as you’re strumming, your eyes lower themselves, meeting with phainon’s ocean-blue eyes. his lips were curved upwards into a brilliant smile. the flowers in his hand reflect their own kind of light onto his skin. yellow sunflowers create warmth reminiscent of your galaxy’s star. white lilies tickle the underside of his chin, its sweet aroma cutting through the stuffy air. 

phainon, as smart as he is, sought the help from his close friend cyrene. as the perfect gift giver and a native speaker in flower-language, she crafted him the perfect bouquet for your show. she was over the moon at the prospect of phainon confessing. she ended up at the local floral shop at six in the morning, picking out all kinds of flowers that could possibly reflect phainon’s yearning. 

at first, he worried that you might not understand it. sure, the bouquet was pretty at first glance. the white lilies were in full bloom, and the sunflowers were perfectly standing with poised elegance. it didn’t matter if you only saw them as beautiful decorations. hidden between the leaves was an envelope, sealed with golden wax—a more bold representation of his feelings.

lucky for him, you were not blind. the softened look in your eyes and rosy-tinted appearance told him all he needed to know. for a second, he wanted to bury his face into the petals of your bouquet, however, he couldn’t resist keeping his eyes on you. he wanted to see you—more than ever, from now and forever. 

the times spent lingering on your finger tips, having wondered if they were smooth to the touch, or calloused and aged, his fondness for you blooms brighter than any flower. the hope that one day, you would lay with him, on a blanket he had perfectly kept in the truck of his car, gazing out to the stars, it all stays written in his dreams. he wants to whisper in your ear the things that bother him most, to confess that despite his goody-two-shoes nature and easy-going attitude, he wasn’t a perfect soul. 

phainon adores you with his entire heart. he craves your voice, the melody that you’ve created that reassures the worry in his heart. he craves your warmth, the one you feared had diminished over the years, threatened by the icy cold trenches of your nightmares. he craves the belief that with effort, he could do anything: he could be the man he always wanted to be. the person who would straighten his back in confidence, declaring to the world his wish and ambition—but more so the terrifying dread that eats him alive, exposing that he is just a man. 

it would be a lie for you not to confess the same. although the last couple of months have been filled to the brim with rigorous studying and practice, the joy of seeing phainon’s smile never fails to lighten your day. the idea of failing didn’t seem so bad with him by your side. 

you were always going to hit the ground. the events of high school will continue to linger at the back of your mind, clawing its way to the front. however, you needed the right kind of push to keep on running forward. you have to keep moving: to a new tomorrow. to the person you’ve always wanted to be, sitting at the end of your decorated table, laughing with a glass of wine in your hand as your friends giggle at your newfound success. to the light at the end of the tunnel, showing you that despite all of life’s beating, you could still find happiness. you needed to believe that as long as you kept trying, one day, you’ll find peace in yourself.

though, most important of all: the reassurance that you could trust the people around you.

before you realized it was over, the lights were brought back to its usual color. sweat sticks to the surface of your skin. shaky breaths escape your lips, adding to the heavy pressure in the room. the rest of your friends huff and wipe away at their chins, grinning as they look to each other. march 7th lowers her drumsticks slightly, looking up at you as you grip the microphone tightly.

you allow everyone on stage to catch their breaths one more time.

“tonight might have been the best time of my life,” you say, lungs trembling at the sudden gust of air rushing through your body, “thank you for coming to our last show. our band wants to thank the owner for giving us the opportunity to share our music with you.” 

your eyes flicker throughout the room, dancing from one corner to the other. “while we aren’t sure whether or not we will continue our in-person shows, we decided on creating digital albums for everyone to enjoy.” 

at first, you think it might be best to end it here. you couldn’t soften your band’s departure from the city anymore than this. as you look down, phainon raises his arms higher, offering you his bouquet. you feel a sudden push forward. briefly glancing over your shoulder, stelle winks at you, giving you a cheeky thumbs up.

taking the flowers by its ribbon handle, your gaze lingers on him a little longer, basking in his slightly disheveled appearance. today he wasn’t wearing his glasses. not the kind that made him look a little more nerdy than usual. you think he took them off because he knew he would be jumping up and down in the crowd, singing every lyric with his heart and soul. the music-lover inside of him was ecstatic and explosive. it is fitting for someone who proclaimed himself as siraph’s number one fan. 

you hold the flowers close to your chest, using your other hand to adjust your grip on the microphone. the sight of sunflowers has your lips curving into a gentle, reassuring smile. 

“and…” 

you straighten your posture, staring forward once more. to some extent, the old you would have swallowed these next few words with contempt and bitterness. you imagine for a fraction of a second, the pitiful you that was lying in bed, twirling your hair through your fingers, trying to uproot the strings tethering you to the past. memories of crying in your hands, closing your eyes and trembling will be no more.

instead, you remember the warmth of your friends. the tenderness in their touch, the laughter and tears they’ve elicited from you, the chance to see that you’re worth something. 

“... to always believe in yourself and others.”

with that, the show comes to its proper closure. before the curtains could fall on the stage, you make a subtle gesture towards phainon, pulling him off to the side. your friends, more specifically stelle and march 7th, snicker and huddle together, murmuring about a possible confession. in the midst of your excitement and adrenaline, dan heng stopped to take your instrument, rolling his eyes at your sudden forgetfulness. faint clapping could be heard behind the velvet fabric, cheers of your band’s name echoing, still, you hurry off the platform.

at the bottom, you see phainon nervously scratching the back of his neck—a nervous tick you’ve grown all too familiar with. clutching the flowers, you make your way toward his direction. your heart was beating faster than you could have ever expected. it was hammering at the forefront of your chest, and you quickly raise your hand to touch your ear, feeling heat radiating off of your skin.

it has been four years since you’ve been in love. 

four long years agonizing over the prospect of never being enough—never being good for your friends, never being a good person, never being anything that wasn’t what you envisioned. but that has long faded. it dwindles the moment phainon reaches out to touch the skin on your cheek. you didn’t realize you were crying until his thumb wiped away the wetness from the corners of you eyes.

you bring one hand to to his wrist, wrapping your fingers around him. as fast as your heart was beating, his was even faster. it pulsated against his skin, enveloping you with warmth.

“did you like the song?” you ask, eyelashes fluttering as you stare up at him. this gesture has him muffling a chuckle, not wanting to interrupt what felt like the most intimate part of his life.

“i loved it. dare i say, it might be my favorite of them all.” his words came out breathy but full of heart. dilatant has been his longtime favorite of his since the day he saw siraph perform, however, this new song took the words out of his mouth. there was so much he wanted to say about it. from the opening line, to the perfect rhythm of the drums, endless praises were threatening to fall from his lips. “i couldn’t imagine anything else better to end the year with.”

this causes the front of your nose to twitch, as your lips part to allow for a humorous exhale. “we still have another week or so to walk down the graduation aisle. so i guess the year isn’t over just yet.”

“it definitely feels like the end though.”

phainon glances from your waist to your face, moving his other hand to press lightly against the curvature of your hip. he doesn’t pull you in quite yet. if anything, he continues to stare at you, pleading with just his eyes the desire to keep you in his arms. when you are the first to wrap your arms around his neck, he breaths in a loud sigh of relief, as if he had just conquered the seven seas and heaven. 

“are you ready for that roadtrip?” his voice tickles the edge of your ear, making the heat that was radiating off of it earlier turn into a furnace, or worst: the sun. 

“where to first?”

“obviously planarcadia. it might take us a couple of days to explore everything though. there are too many things not to see—like the bookstores, the karaoke rooms, i even heard they have a festival coming up. i wouldn’t want us to miss out on it!”

you bury your face into the crook of his neck, giggling as you rock back and forth on your heel, taking him along with you. “karaoke? it sounds like you just want to hear me sing for free.” 

“what? nooo!” 

phainon sheepishly scratches the side of his cheek with his pointer finger, unable to contain the truth behind your words. “you wouldn’t be wrong… but if i wanted to hear you sing, we can do it in the car! you said you’re releasing a new digital album, right? we should listen to that on the way there!”

the man releases a whine, “i can’t believe you didn’t tell me this sooner. you better send the link to your spotify profile. i’ll be the first follower, and i’ll make to add you to every playlist of mine. after that, you have to upload it to instagram so i can use it for my story music.”

“slow down there.” your body vibrates with laughter, “i just thought it would be a nice surprise until the show. besides, its a nice present for all you’ve done.” 

it seems only right that you would start uploading music digitally. the first time you exchanged numbers with phainon was because he wanted a recording of your songs. everything circled back to the day at the classroom, when it was just the two of you in the early morning, awkwardly fidgeting in each others seat with the vague knowledge he knew you.

“still!”

as he pouts, you feel phainon pull you closer to his chest, letting you feel the full brunt of his beating heart. it wasn’t at all subtle. his feelings for you were pouring out of his body, emitting a feverish heat that has you finally laughing with your whole lungs.

you move back, eliciting another whine from his lips. however, it was quickly replaced with stunned silence as you held onto his cheeks, gaze easing with what he could only describe as affection and adoration. the bitterness he felt when he visited your apartment, seeing littered photographs of old smiles, disappeared in the blink of an eye. the thought of a new tomorrow guides him to press his fingers against the back of your hand, keeping you stilled in this moment.

“thank you, phainon.”

when your lips finally touch his, that was when everything truly fell into place.

₊˚ෆ college au!phainon x vocalist!reader.

synopsis; on a dreary night, a nameless band and singer relieves phainon of his homesickness. determined to find her once more, their worlds collide when phainon realizes: his favorite vocalist is his classmate (name).

genres/warnings; smau, college au, classmates to lovers, profanity, timestamps don’t matter, photographs are non-representative of reader, fem!reader.

⤷ masterlist || backward + forward.

₊˚ ୨ৎ taglist [30/30]

@sunphais @t0r4s @sinbehavior @chxnnieee @m0reighn4 @aloudice @morichhaa @yourfavoritefreakyhan @violetisreadinghush @celesteelysia @phainons-goonbrick @kazeniya @luphyllum @potabletable @zanksa @mizuiaiiii @junoms @nicosworldoffun @veinpi @pookiei-bookie @a1-ic3 @skylions-den @kumiluvvsu @phainonsleftthigh @kaz-unidentified @fo-love @maggiforlifesstuff @tamashithe2nd @arluene7688 @2000-very-small-ants

[totheonewhotiesredstrings]

♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡

" 众里寻他千百度

众里寻他千百度

蓦然回首 那人却在

灯火阑珊处。" - pursuit of jade OST

♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡

or otherwise known as how they yearn for you.

feat. phainon and lohen.

a/n: i believe the song is called 众里寻他千百度/"among thousands i seek him."

PHAINON:

phainon's yearning is quite literally a yearning that would last across all his cycles. it is that powerful.

from the first moment he met you in aedes elysiae's golden fields, under a tree dappled in sunlight, phainon just knew.

it's not the kind of yearning that's loud, but instead it's quiet yet bold. you can see it in his actions and hear it in his voice, that yes, phainon loves you deeply and truly.

it's also a kind of yearning that's present even when he's not around. ironically, it's akin to the sun. sometimes you can't see it, but you know it's always there.

it encompasses phainon wholly and makes him devote all that he is, every piece and scrap that he is able to offer.

it causes him to look for you in every crowd, in every street he passes through, in every battlefield he enters. no matter where phainon goes, he will always look for you.

no matter what, it has always been you.

it twists and makes his heart ache in the sweetest way possible, and all he wants is to one day have the chance to convey it all to you.

it makes phainon want to be a part of your daily life, to know if you're happy or well-fed, if you think about him as much as he does about you.

it allows him to dream of a peaceful life with you, one where the two of you would just grow old together side by side, not caring for the time slipping past each day.

however, it's a double-edged sword as well, for the flame-chase journey has never been kind to fools in love. especially for one who believes himself to be unlovable.

still, when amphoreus welcomes a true dawn and phainon meets you once again under a familiar tree, he hopes he'll finally get to talk to you properly this time.

LOHEN:

lohen's yearning is...complicated. you won't know unless he makes it obvious.

it doesn't happen immediately, but it's more of something that was built over the span of years until something clicked.

it's intense, much like lohen himself, yet almost gentle in nature when looking further into it, like casting a stone upon water and watching the ensuing ripples.

it hits him fast and hard in some regard, the longing entwining itself like vines around his heart.

when lohen yearns, he's in it for the long run. there's no doubt in his mind that you are the one he wants to be with for the rest of his life.

it frustrates him sometimes, being a guy who doesn't have many close relationships nor found a reason to create any. and all of a sudden he can't stop thinking about you.

the yearning also makes lohen more possessive, his presence practically saying "i was here first." when he sees someone approach you.

he'll be more 'present' in your life, so to speak. hanging around you more, little touches here and there, a flirt or two that almost toes the line of platonic and romantic.

at the same time, it scares lohen somewhat, having such strong feelings he has no control over and doesn't know when or if they could disappear at any time.

his yearning is one that never diminishes, however, even with such thoughts. he misses you dearly when you're not in sight, and longs to hear you when you're near.

it's the kind where you'll never have to worry about being last priority to lohen because his heart simply won't let him treat you as anything less.

all in all, lohen knows he's smitten when he finds himself re-reading all the letters you had sent to him while he was on expedition.

[ruruumin]

24 - finale [♡]

fidgeting with the straps of your bass, you stand before the closed curtain. although the show hasn’t started yet, there was a thin line of sweat trailing against the nape of your neck, seeping into the fabric of your clothes and reminding you of the grossness of showrunning and pride of performing. your fingers are jittery and restless. nervously grazing the fretboard, you suck in a deep breath, expanding your lungs against the tightness of your ribcage. your had turns upwards, a smile writing itself across your face. 

the last show of the year. the one most people have been waiting on the edges of their seats for. it was both an exciting yet daunting revelation. the owner of ghost town mentioned recently that as the months go by, the small crowd your band has gathered became bigger. they’ve even gotten bolder at times, holding up signs above their heads, cheering names. stelle brought up seeing familiar faces from her time at stellaron. a young, grey-haired woman and her timid companion, clutching onto her arm as they waited in the darkness, looking out for their former keyboardist. 

when the velvet curtain pulls away, you’re met with more than just blinding stage lights. while you walk towards the microphone, your eyes quickly scan the audience. under the blanket of anxious feelings and stage-fright, you’ve forgotten about phainon’s previous message. you hoped that in the far distance, you would see his blue-eyes and striking white-hair. for a second, you almost feel a little dejected, being unable to see him so easily. 

but a shout quickly breaks through your looking glass. at the very front of the crowd, phainon was there, holding a large bouquet of flowers. your friends giggle and roll their eyes. whether or not phainon bribed the owner to enter the venue with ordain arrangements, it didn’t matter as much as the thought of seeing him. you swallow a nervous gulp, pressing down the butterflies that were threatening to explode from the confines of your chest. phainon was surrounded by a few other people. one held onto his shoulder while the rest grinned with childish glee. 

phainon’s face was slightly red, most likely from the venue’s heat and adrenaline. though, for him, it must have been because he was standing beneath your light. the sight of him jumping up and down, shaking the flowers in his arms with upmost joy has you laughing. 

you bring the microphone to your lips, grinning as the crowd pulls forward: “hello everyone. welcome to ghost town, we are siraph!” adjusting your grip, your eyes look forward, staring off into the distance with a proud smile. “it has been an incredible journey performing for you. i hope our time together was well spent.”

“for us, the band, it has been everything we’ve ever wanted and more.” 

it takes everything within your body to keep the tears from flowing. you were awfully emotional today. while you were still going to perform your usual songs, there was the obvious new addition. however, it won’t be the end. if anything, it was just the beginning. after finishing your recent song, your friends decided it would be best to release a digital album. you’ve kept this fact hidden from phainon, knowing how excited he would be—not having to recite your songs in his head, but play your voice on the stereo. 

your fingers tighten themselves on your strings. the audience is looking up at you with anticipation. some lick their lips, others turn to their friends, whispering amongst themselves. silverwolf and firefly kept to themselves in the corner, the former leaning against the wall with a cool expression. phainon’s shoulder is constantly getting shook by the woman with pink hair. her excitement is palpable. a reflection of the crowd’s excitement. 

“to show our appreciation, we’re performing our newest song for our next album: risk.” the stage light dims slightly. not as blaring as it was at the beginning of your entrance. it has a warmer tone. something soft. tender and comforting. a perfect kind of mood. although your group rarely makes changes to your lighting, stelle wanted the atmosphere to be just right. 

your cupids bow makes brief contact with the cool metal of your microphone: “this is forefront.” 

march 7th takes the lead, bouncing her drumsticks against the tom and cymbal. your hands quickly adjust themselves, nails grazing alongside the thick strings of your bass. your feet instinctively tap themselves on the ground, following the rhythm march 7th had set out for you. even though you’ve spent most of your time on stage unmoving, the beat of your newest song has you swaying back and forth. 

the song is broken up into different sections, each being sung by your friends. you chose to focus on the intro and chorus, stelle and march 7th created the verse and pre-chorus, and dan heng took the refrain and bridges. you thought it was sweet that stelle and march 7th suggested doing a short duet together. you suppose it shouldn’t be so much of a surprise that after all these years, they would basically be the second pair in your band. 

everything was slowly falling into place. the crowd was on their toes, leaning forward to hear your voice. dan heng was shifting, eyes narrowing with careful precision as he lands a difficult set of chords. march 7th was smiling despite the sweat pouring down the back of her neck. her feet were constantly bouncing with energy, hands busying themselves with the rhythm of everyone’s instruments. stelle was occasionally glancing at silverwolf and firefly, watching as they gave her a simple thumbs up of encouragement. though you couldn’t help but feel as if there was something missing.

as you’re strumming, your eyes lower themselves, meeting with phainon’s ocean-blue eyes. his lips were curved upwards into a brilliant smile. the flowers in his hand reflect their own kind of light onto his skin. yellow sunflowers create warmth reminiscent of your galaxy’s star. white lilies tickle the underside of his chin, its sweet aroma cutting through the stuffy air. 

phainon, as smart as he is, sought the help from his close friend cyrene. as the perfect gift giver and a native speaker in flower-language, she crafted him the perfect bouquet for your show. she was over the moon at the prospect of phainon confessing. she ended up at the local floral shop at six in the morning, picking out all kinds of flowers that could possibly reflect phainon’s yearning. 

at first, he worried that you might not understand it. sure, the bouquet was pretty at first glance. the white lilies were in full bloom, and the sunflowers were perfectly standing with poised elegance. it didn’t matter if you only saw them as beautiful decorations. hidden between the leaves was an envelope, sealed with golden wax—a more bold representation of his feelings.

lucky for him, you were not blind. the softened look in your eyes and rosy-tinted appearance told him all he needed to know. for a second, he wanted to bury his face into the petals of your bouquet, however, he couldn’t resist keeping his eyes on you. he wanted to see you—more than ever, from now and forever. 

the times spent lingering on your finger tips, having wondered if they were smooth to the touch, or calloused and aged, his fondness for you blooms brighter than any flower. the hope that one day, you would lay with him, on a blanket he had perfectly kept in the truck of his car, gazing out to the stars, it all stays written in his dreams. he wants to whisper in your ear the things that bother him most, to confess that despite his goody-two-shoes nature and easy-going attitude, he wasn’t a perfect soul. 

phainon adores you with his entire heart. he craves your voice, the melody that you’ve created that reassures the worry in his heart. he craves your warmth, the one you feared had diminished over the years, threatened by the icy cold trenches of your nightmares. he craves the belief that with effort, he could do anything: he could be the man he always wanted to be. the person who would straighten his back in confidence, declaring to the world his wish and ambition—but more so the terrifying dread that eats him alive, exposing that he is just a man. 

it would be a lie for you not to confess the same. although the last couple of months have been filled to the brim with rigorous studying and practice, the joy of seeing phainon’s smile never fails to lighten your day. the idea of failing didn’t seem so bad with him by your side. 

you were always going to hit the ground. the events of high school will continue to linger at the back of your mind, clawing its way to the front. however, you needed the right kind of push to keep on running forward. you have to keep moving: to a new tomorrow. to the person you’ve always wanted to be, sitting at the end of your decorated table, laughing with a glass of wine in your hand as your friends giggle at your newfound success. to the light at the end of the tunnel, showing you that despite all of life’s beating, you could still find happiness. you needed to believe that as long as you kept trying, one day, you’ll find peace in yourself.

though, most important of all: the reassurance that you could trust the people around you.

before you realized it was over, the lights were brought back to its usual color. sweat sticks to the surface of your skin. shaky breaths escape your lips, adding to the heavy pressure in the room. the rest of your friends huff and wipe away at their chins, grinning as they look to each other. march 7th lowers her drumsticks slightly, looking up at you as you grip the microphone tightly.

you allow everyone on stage to catch their breaths one more time.

“tonight might have been the best time of my life,” you say, lungs trembling at the sudden gust of air rushing through your body, “thank you for coming to our last show. our band wants to thank the owner for giving us the opportunity to share our music with you.” 

your eyes flicker throughout the room, dancing from one corner to the other. “while we aren’t sure whether or not we will continue our in-person shows, we decided on creating digital albums for everyone to enjoy.” 

at first, you think it might be best to end it here. you couldn’t soften your band’s departure from the city anymore than this. as you look down, phainon raises his arms higher, offering you his bouquet. you feel a sudden push forward. briefly glancing over your shoulder, stelle winks at you, giving you a cheeky thumbs up.

taking the flowers by its ribbon handle, your gaze lingers on him a little longer, basking in his slightly disheveled appearance. today he wasn’t wearing his glasses. not the kind that made him look a little more nerdy than usual. you think he took them off because he knew he would be jumping up and down in the crowd, singing every lyric with his heart and soul. the music-lover inside of him was ecstatic and explosive. it is fitting for someone who proclaimed himself as siraph’s number one fan. 

you hold the flowers close to your chest, using your other hand to adjust your grip on the microphone. the sight of sunflowers has your lips curving into a gentle, reassuring smile. 

“and…” 

you straighten your posture, staring forward once more. to some extent, the old you would have swallowed these next few words with contempt and bitterness. you imagine for a fraction of a second, the pitiful you that was lying in bed, twirling your hair through your fingers, trying to uproot the strings tethering you to the past. memories of crying in your hands, closing your eyes and trembling will be no more.

instead, you remember the warmth of your friends. the tenderness in their touch, the laughter and tears they’ve elicited from you, the chance to see that you’re worth something. 

“... to always believe in yourself and others.”

with that, the show comes to its proper closure. before the curtains could fall on the stage, you make a subtle gesture towards phainon, pulling him off to the side. your friends, more specifically stelle and march 7th, snicker and huddle together, murmuring about a possible confession. in the midst of your excitement and adrenaline, dan heng stopped to take your instrument, rolling his eyes at your sudden forgetfulness. faint clapping could be heard behind the velvet fabric, cheers of your band’s name echoing, still, you hurry off the platform.

at the bottom, you see phainon nervously scratching the back of his neck—a nervous tick you’ve grown all too familiar with. clutching the flowers, you make your way toward his direction. your heart was beating faster than you could have ever expected. it was hammering at the forefront of your chest, and you quickly raise your hand to touch your ear, feeling heat radiating off of your skin.

it has been four years since you’ve been in love. 

four long years agonizing over the prospect of never being enough—never being good for your friends, never being a good person, never being anything that wasn’t what you envisioned. but that has long faded. it dwindles the moment phainon reaches out to touch the skin on your cheek. you didn’t realize you were crying until his thumb wiped away the wetness from the corners of you eyes.

you bring one hand to to his wrist, wrapping your fingers around him. as fast as your heart was beating, his was even faster. it pulsated against his skin, enveloping you with warmth.

“did you like the song?” you ask, eyelashes fluttering as you stare up at him. this gesture has him muffling a chuckle, not wanting to interrupt what felt like the most intimate part of his life.

“i loved it. dare i say, it might be my favorite of them all.” his words came out breathy but full of heart. dilatant has been his longtime favorite of his since the day he saw siraph perform, however, this new song took the words out of his mouth. there was so much he wanted to say about it. from the opening line, to the perfect rhythm of the drums, endless praises were threatening to fall from his lips. “i couldn’t imagine anything else better to end the year with.”

this causes the front of your nose to twitch, as your lips part to allow for a humorous exhale. “we still have another week or so to walk down the graduation aisle. so i guess the year isn’t over just yet.”

“it definitely feels like the end though.”

phainon glances from your waist to your face, moving his other hand to press lightly against the curvature of your hip. he doesn’t pull you in quite yet. if anything, he continues to stare at you, pleading with just his eyes the desire to keep you in his arms. when you are the first to wrap your arms around his neck, he breaths in a loud sigh of relief, as if he had just conquered the seven seas and heaven. 

“are you ready for that roadtrip?” his voice tickles the edge of your ear, making the heat that was radiating off of it earlier turn into a furnace, or worst: the sun. 

“where to first?”

“obviously planarcadia. it might take us a couple of days to explore everything though. there are too many things not to see—like the bookstores, the karaoke rooms, i even heard they have a festival coming up. i wouldn’t want us to miss out on it!”

you bury your face into the crook of his neck, giggling as you rock back and forth on your heel, taking him along with you. “karaoke? it sounds like you just want to hear me sing for free.” 

“what? nooo!” 

phainon sheepishly scratches the side of his cheek with his pointer finger, unable to contain the truth behind your words. “you wouldn’t be wrong… but if i wanted to hear you sing, we can do it in the car! you said you’re releasing a new digital album, right? we should listen to that on the way there!”

the man releases a whine, “i can’t believe you didn’t tell me this sooner. you better send the link to your spotify profile. i’ll be the first follower, and i’ll make to add you to every playlist of mine. after that, you have to upload it to instagram so i can use it for my story music.”

“slow down there.” your body vibrates with laughter, “i just thought it would be a nice surprise until the show. besides, its a nice present for all you’ve done.” 

it seems only right that you would start uploading music digitally. the first time you exchanged numbers with phainon was because he wanted a recording of your songs. everything circled back to the day at the classroom, when it was just the two of you in the early morning, awkwardly fidgeting in each others seat with the vague knowledge he knew you.

“still!”

as he pouts, you feel phainon pull you closer to his chest, letting you feel the full brunt of his beating heart. it wasn’t at all subtle. his feelings for you were pouring out of his body, emitting a feverish heat that has you finally laughing with your whole lungs.

you move back, eliciting another whine from his lips. however, it was quickly replaced with stunned silence as you held onto his cheeks, gaze easing with what he could only describe as affection and adoration. the bitterness he felt when he visited your apartment, seeing littered photographs of old smiles, disappeared in the blink of an eye. the thought of a new tomorrow guides him to press his fingers against the back of your hand, keeping you stilled in this moment.

“thank you, phainon.”

when your lips finally touch his, that was when everything truly fell into place.

₊˚ෆ college au!phainon x vocalist!reader.

synopsis; on a dreary night, a nameless band and singer relieves phainon of his homesickness. determined to find her once more, their worlds collide when phainon realizes: his favorite vocalist is his classmate (name).

genres/warnings; smau, college au, classmates to lovers, profanity, timestamps don’t matter, photographs are non-representative of reader, fem!reader.

⤷ masterlist || backward + forward.

₊˚ ୨ৎ taglist [30/30]

@sunphais @t0r4s @sinbehavior @chxnnieee @m0reighn4 @aloudice @morichhaa @yourfavoritefreakyhan @violetisreadinghush @celesteelysia @phainons-goonbrick @kazeniya @luphyllum @potabletable @zanksa @mizuiaiiii @junoms @nicosworldoffun @veinpi @pookiei-bookie @a1-ic3 @skylions-den @kumiluvvsu @phainonsleftthigh @kaz-unidentified @fo-love @maggiforlifesstuff @tamashithe2nd @arluene7688 @2000-very-small-ants

[danijaci]

the bucket tool when there's a small gap:

[ruruumin]

夢で kiss me!

₊˚ෆ vice-president! lohen x president!fem!reader

⤷ the worst person to have walked through those doors just had to be your annoying vice president.

you had everything a young girl could wish for. not only did you come home to a loving family with a brother and sister clambering to your side, you also had a fairly successful school career. as the student council president, you were practically at the top of the food chain—destined for greatness. your grades were in top shape, your hair was kept neatly, and you’ve never once broken the school dress code. your smile was bright and you always helped out any struggling student. in the eyes of many, you were the ideal role model for the academy. the perfect symbol of hope that everyone could look up to. due to your outwardly charm and charisma, you practically had the school eating out of the palm of your hand. although most of the population consisted of boys who acted more like dog than man, it wasn’t difficult wrestling them into control.

however, despite your paper-like success, the most humiliating thing in your life was having to work at this vomit-inducing room, filled to the brim with pink wallpaper and whip cream. dressed in a short and minimalistic maid outfit, you force yourself to smile gratefully in front of your patrons. addressing them as master all the time hurt your tongue more than you liked, but it was better than not having food on the table. and to the surprise of many, this job paid you quite well.

you were thankful that your academy was a hefty walk away. the only way anyone would find this place is if they went specifically looking for it. and for the most part, you didn’t have to worry about anyone from your school seeing you in this frilly outfit with thick bows and pink hairclips. as much as you adore your coworkers and the hard work they’ve put in, its difficult for you to maintain this appearance of constant moe. 

holding back a grit in your teeth, you carefully set down a few plates of your cafe’s famous omurice, a signature dish that had been in your store for years. as good as it was, you think your stomach was growing sick of the taste of egg and tomato. even your family was starting to get sick of eating leftover eggs every single night. nevertheless, you continue with your job, smiling gleefully in your patron’s direction. you hold up the ketchup bottle, teeth shining through the cracks of your lips as you bat your lashes.

“moe moe kyun… make this food taste delicious!” they watch in awe as you carefully pipe a cute drawing of a cat. after just a minute, your customers clap, impressed by your performance. you take one short step back, straightening your posture as you look toward your latest creation. it might have been the best one today—since you were able to make out every detail perfectly. your character art was improving day by day. 

after taking a few pictures of their food, your customers began eating and chatting amongst themselves. this led you to clean up for another table. as you were going to check on another booth, you hear the hanging bell jingle, signalling the arrival of a new guest. you hurriedly fix your appearance, making sure your hair sat flat and less frizzled. turning around, you automatically call out to them with the cafe’s scripted entrance. while you cringed every time you recited this line, it always kept customers from leaving. 

“welcome home, master!” 

“oh? are my eyes deceiving me? is that the student council president greeting me?” 

at the sound of a familiar voice, you suddenly found it hard to speak. still in his school uniform, lohen slowly approaches from the other side of the room. without any sense of personal space, he leans towards your face, examining the details left on your make up. an amused and playful hum escapes his lips at your uncharacteristically soft expression. 

“wow! it really is you pres!”

he was used to your glares from across the classroom. the kind that always screamed seriousness. the pin-straight, ironed out uniform always looked good on you, but seeing you here, swallowed up by lace frills and pretty bows, it does something to him that changes the chemistry in his brain. his friends always told him that he had a thing for his president. he just didn’t realize how much it would consume him. 

meanwhile, you were standing in front of him, still shell-shocked by his appearance. out of all people you could have possibly encountered, it just had to be him–your vice president, who in all honesty, must have paid his way into the student council. he was outwardly rowdy. a troublemaker to boot. someone that you had to be cautious of at all times. you find it hard to believe that a man such as himself could be so chivalrous, yet at the same time, deathly mischievous to the point of spiking your teas. not even your siblings, whom you’ve scolded one too many times about running into your stomach and tackling you, would play such tricks on you. unfortunately for you, even after pinching the side of your cheek, the pain reminded you that this was no dream.

“mm, earth to (name)? are you going to lead me to a table? or did something catch your tongue?” his head moves upwards, emphasizing how much smaller you feel in this moment. “your master is waiting.” 

for a moment, you think about dragging him out of the store. after all, the longer he is here, the more he will blabber about unnecessary things. you hoped, even prayed to a god, that he wouldn’t tell his friends about you. having to take care of another person from your school might push you to quit this job entirely. it’ll be the worst kind of social death. your reputation will be flushed down the drain in a matter of seconds, and you’ll be stuck wearing this pathetic maid uniform. 

it takes everything inside you to not pull him by the ear. with much reluctance, you guide lohen towards a booth at the very back of the store—far, far away from any prying eyes. setting down his menu without a second of thought or consideration, you try not to feed into his strange, rather delusional mind. you knew that the moment you turn your back on him, he will pull his phone out, taking pretty photos of you in this dress.

you hate the idea of being his maid. it was the lowest of the low. a new kind of humiliation you knew you were about to face tomorrow morning. who would have thought that after a few years of working at this store, someone from your school finally showed up, and it had to be lohen. it just had to be him.

although you appreciate his efficiency, especially when it came to work and tracking down payments, there were times in which he caused a little too much trouble. instead of confronting people normally about their late payments, he interrogated them like criminal subjects. furthermore, he had an odd way of showing affection. while he could be generous at times, offering to take the heavy load of books off your arms, or finishing your reports, it doesn’t change the fact that he does it to annoy you. from gum that stained your tongue a bright shade of green, to swapping out your milk carton for tomato juice, being around him always caused trouble. underneath his exterior of a kind man, was a beast with a strange appetite to torment people. sadly for you, it seems like you were going to be his newest victim. 

lohen stares up at you from his seat, a pout forming on his lips as he waves the menu around, “the service here is very hostile. are you sure you’re doing your job correctly? i heard maid cafes were all about serving their masters.” 

you could feel your left eye twitch in response, “you…” 

this was another thing you hated about your job. just because you worked at a maid cafe, it did not give any of your patrons the permission to harass you. you knew that going into these shops, you would be bombarded with fan service, but like all establishments, touching was strictly forbidden. thankfully, you did have one trusted coworker with you today. if lohen became too chaotic, he could be banned from the establishment entirely. what a blessing it would be—not having to see him here again.

forcing the edges of your lips to smile, you place your hand onto the paper menu, forcing it back onto the table. “that’s right. what would you like me to get for you… master?” the last word felt like knives cutting into your tongue. it grossed you out in unimaginable ways. 

lohen mumbles to himself, placing a finger below his chin as he skims through the menu. aside from the karaage or omurice, everything else on the menu was practically dripping in syrup and whip cream. if you took a kid here, one pancake could fulfill their sugar high for years. while lohen doesn’t necessarily have a sweet tooth, he plans on maximizing his time here as much as possible. especially… his eyes glances up at you, staring up and down at the tasteful outfit your workplace provided.

when you feel his gaze linger for too long and a little too low, you reach over to shove the menu back in his face. you wipe yourself of any niceties, replacing any fondness you had for your previous patrons with a scowl. “are you going to get anything or not?”

lohen grins in your direction, unaffected by your glare. if anything, he feels more charmed seeing you like this; annoyed and dolled up. “well, what would you recommend?”

“anything tastes good.”

“really now?”

“yes…”

“something tells me you’re not telling me the whole truth.” he starts to fan himself with the menu, leaning further back into his chair as he lazily replies back to you,  “whatever. i’ll get the full set. drink and entree. you wouldn’t mind that at all, would you now?” 

“of course not…” as long as he was paying, you suppose it would be fine.

you write down his order on a notepad, scribbling alongside his name a disgusted cat. at least it was something to take your mind off of the headache he was starting to create. your cafe’s set meal was a little different from others in town. while they still provided you with a sparkly drink and entree, your workplace had custom photocards printed of every worker. it was another piece of souvenir the customer could take home with them. on top of the generous service, you were also expected to take a photo with your customer at the end of their meal. and while it was cute for young girls, being able to take girly pictures with a bright, confident smile, having to do it next to lohen felt mortifying. worst of all, he would have physical evidence that you worked at this establishment.

your eye start to twitch once more. you notice this tick a lot more when you’re around lohen. “what kind of photocard would you like today? we have other maids working today, if you would like to take photos with them at the end of your meal, they would be happy to join.” 

after pointing at a wall, lohen could see your coworkers in full view. there wer at least four other girls working alongside you. a few of them were cute. they had pretty smiles and a lovely expression—but the one he was looking most forward to was the girl in front of him, scowling and holding back curses like a sailor.

“i’d love to take a picture with my pres!” 

you immediately kick his shin from underneath the table, shushing him immediately. “don’t call me that here!” with gritted teeth, you harden your glare at him, trying to scare him into silence. even though it wasn’t going to work on a person like him, it was worth a try. “if you’re going to be here, at least be quiet about my life outside of work.” 

“whats the fun in that? i thought you liked being called pres, it makes you feel more important, doesn’t it?”

this response earns him not just another kick to the shin, but a stamp to his feet. 

“ow!”

“just sit patiently and wait for your food, master.” 

you quickly turn away with a huff, walking in the direction of your other coworkers. you cannot believe your luck right now. you’ve spent so long working at this place without much of a hitch, and suddenly, out of the blue, your vice president, the one you’re forced to see every single day at school, shows up to visit. you would have been fine if it was anyone else. maybe the nice girl that sits behind you in class. or the boy who shares his lunch with you. anyone but lohen. you don’t know what kind of rumors might show up tomorrow morning. or the look on his face when you enter your classroom meeting. regardless, the more you think about it, a vicious shiver runs down your spine.

perhaps it wasn’t just the thought of him that makes you cold—but his stare too. 

nevertheless, after a few minutes of waiting for his food and tending to other guests, you return with a tray with his food and drink. even though you saw him order earlier, it is still a strange surprise. everything on his plate had been practically vomited on by a cute angel made out of sprinkles, whip cream, and chocolate. you would have never expected that the man in front of you, the kind that would always chew gum in the hallway like a delinquent, had an affinity for sweets. or he ordered it just to piss you off because of course he wanted you to draw something on it. either one works.

lohen ordered a stack of pancakes with whip cream piped onto the top like two rabbit ears. there were even small circles of chocolate that made his entire dish look like a cute animal. another thing you hate about this place is how adorable they make all their food look—even if it did rot your teeth. on the left of him was a pink sparkling soda, topped with another tower of whip cream and a heart shaped straw. overall, it was nothing like the lohen you knew at school.

“i think this is the part where you wish for my food to be delicious.” lohen leans over the table, a cocky smirk spreading across his face. “c’mon pres, you don’t want to keep me waiting, now do you?” 

instead of a ketchup bottle, you reach for the chocolate sauce. without much eagerness or excitement, you stare at him with a dead, fish-eye expression. but the smile on your face hasn’t left whatsoever.

“moe… moe… kyun. make this food… delicious.” 

“make this food delicious!” lohen claps his hands, finishing your words as he glances back up to you. “now, about that photo, am i supposed to finish my food before you take one with me?”

your eye twitches once more, “no… we can take a photo right now. just to get it over with…” 

“well, you don’t sound so excited!” 

unbeknownst to your suffering, your coworkers came with gleeful smiles, cooing over lohen’s handsome appearance. despite his less than charming personality, his face didn’t carry the same sentiment. his eyes were, unfortunately, a pretty shade of red and turquoise. the mole beneath his right eye was also another nice detail to his face. it makes him a little more recognizable in crowds. overall, he was disgustingly good looking and that pisses you off even more. it was too pretty. too easy to be fooled. he could trick the nice, old lady across the street into letting him into her home. make no mistake, this man was the devil’s reincarnate. 

for this photo, you awkwardly sat beside him, positioning the food in a way where the camera could see the entire table. lohen’s face brightened up significantly. his smile growing wider than ever—but you knew it wasn’t out of the goodness of his heart. the glimmer in his eyes darkened slightly and you start to feel nervous. you try your best not to make your feelings obvious. it would be a stab to your pride to feel afraid of someone like him.

“can you both make a heart with your hands?” your coworker asks, holding up a polaroid camera, “and get a little closer? you both look so nervous and awkward! come on!”

you restrain yourself from audibly sighing. scooching closer to lohen, you feel his arm slowly graze behind your back, still hidden under the table as to avoid your coworker’s prying eyes. his fingers dance across the side of your waist, toying with the lace fabric. he pushes himself closer to you.

“like this?”

“thats right!”

you continue to smile, holding up a cheesy heart sign while lohen connects the symbol. while your coworker fixes the camera setting, his fingers were still gripping onto your waist, trying to pinch at whatever skin he could grab. he wanted you to fumble over yourself. maybe knock over the table in embarrassment. hit him over the head. anything that could possibly get everyone's attention onto the two of you. but sadly for him, you did none of that. for every time he pinched, you kept your heel planted on his shoe, grinding until you feel him flinch. the two of you were wincing from the pain, but nevertheless, the photo was taken, and you hurriedly left the seat once it was over.

before you could leave the station, lohen calls out to you, the same smirk plastered over his face.

“pres, you forgot something.” 

“huh?”

he flicks in your direction a second photo. as it slowly develops under the ceiling lights, you see yourself and him, sitting together in the same booth. your face starts to heat up slightly. as your blood starts to boil with frustration, lohen can only grin from his side of the table. twirling his fork, he playfully waves to you. the audacity of this man…

“do you mind signing it? i want to make sure i get proof that i was with that girl in the picture.” he gives you a flirtatious wink—something that makes your face freeze up in confusion, “i presume i’ll be seeing you tomorrow morning as well?”

after signing your name clumsily with a pink marker, you slam the photograph onto the table. 

“whatever.” 

you scurry off in the other direction, praying that once the hour was over, he would leave. meanwhile, as lohen digs into his pancake, he continues to stare at you. his fingers graze over the smooth surface of the photo, admiring the look on your face. although your smile was cute, seeing you so angry at him does something different to him. it was strangely satisfying—having you worked up over his simple existence. it makes him want to visit you even more now. 

he relaxes into his seat, swooning over his student council president.

[danijaci]

commissioned on vgen!

[ruruumin]

夢で kiss me!

₊˚ෆ vice-president! lohen x president!fem!reader

⤷ the worst person to have walked through those doors just had to be your annoying vice president.

you had everything a young girl could wish for. not only did you come home to a loving family with a brother and sister clambering to your side, you also had a fairly successful school career. as the student council president, you were practically at the top of the food chain—destined for greatness. your grades were in top shape, your hair was kept neatly, and you’ve never once broken the school dress code. your smile was bright and you always helped out any struggling student. in the eyes of many, you were the ideal role model for the academy. the perfect symbol of hope that everyone could look up to. due to your outwardly charm and charisma, you practically had the school eating out of the palm of your hand. although most of the population consisted of boys who acted more like dog than man, it wasn’t difficult wrestling them into control.

however, despite your paper-like success, the most humiliating thing in your life was having to work at this vomit-inducing room, filled to the brim with pink wallpaper and whip cream. dressed in a short and minimalistic maid outfit, you force yourself to smile gratefully in front of your patrons. addressing them as master all the time hurt your tongue more than you liked, but it was better than not having food on the table. and to the surprise of many, this job paid you quite well.

you were thankful that your academy was a hefty walk away. the only way anyone would find this place is if they went specifically looking for it. and for the most part, you didn’t have to worry about anyone from your school seeing you in this frilly outfit with thick bows and pink hairclips. as much as you adore your coworkers and the hard work they’ve put in, its difficult for you to maintain this appearance of constant moe. 

holding back a grit in your teeth, you carefully set down a few plates of your cafe’s famous omurice, a signature dish that had been in your store for years. as good as it was, you think your stomach was growing sick of the taste of egg and tomato. even your family was starting to get sick of eating leftover eggs every single night. nevertheless, you continue with your job, smiling gleefully in your patron’s direction. you hold up the ketchup bottle, teeth shining through the cracks of your lips as you bat your lashes.

“moe moe kyun… make this food taste delicious!” they watch in awe as you carefully pipe a cute drawing of a cat. after just a minute, your customers clap, impressed by your performance. you take one short step back, straightening your posture as you look toward your latest creation. it might have been the best one today—since you were able to make out every detail perfectly. your character art was improving day by day. 

after taking a few pictures of their food, your customers began eating and chatting amongst themselves. this led you to clean up for another table. as you were going to check on another booth, you hear the hanging bell jingle, signalling the arrival of a new guest. you hurriedly fix your appearance, making sure your hair sat flat and less frizzled. turning around, you automatically call out to them with the cafe’s scripted entrance. while you cringed every time you recited this line, it always kept customers from leaving. 

“welcome home, master!” 

“oh? are my eyes deceiving me? is that the student council president greeting me?” 

at the sound of a familiar voice, you suddenly found it hard to speak. still in his school uniform, lohen slowly approaches from the other side of the room. without any sense of personal space, he leans towards your face, examining the details left on your make up. an amused and playful hum escapes his lips at your uncharacteristically soft expression. 

“wow! it really is you pres!”

he was used to your glares from across the classroom. the kind that always screamed seriousness. the pin-straight, ironed out uniform always looked good on you, but seeing you here, swallowed up by lace frills and pretty bows, it does something to him that changes the chemistry in his brain. his friends always told him that he had a thing for his president. he just didn’t realize how much it would consume him. 

meanwhile, you were standing in front of him, still shell-shocked by his appearance. out of all people you could have possibly encountered, it just had to be him–your vice president, who in all honesty, must have paid his way into the student council. he was outwardly rowdy. a troublemaker to boot. someone that you had to be cautious of at all times. you find it hard to believe that a man such as himself could be so chivalrous, yet at the same time, deathly mischievous to the point of spiking your teas. not even your siblings, whom you’ve scolded one too many times about running into your stomach and tackling you, would play such tricks on you. unfortunately for you, even after pinching the side of your cheek, the pain reminded you that this was no dream.

“mm, earth to (name)? are you going to lead me to a table? or did something catch your tongue?” his head moves upwards, emphasizing how much smaller you feel in this moment. “your master is waiting.” 

for a moment, you think about dragging him out of the store. after all, the longer he is here, the more he will blabber about unnecessary things. you hoped, even prayed to a god, that he wouldn’t tell his friends about you. having to take care of another person from your school might push you to quit this job entirely. it’ll be the worst kind of social death. your reputation will be flushed down the drain in a matter of seconds, and you’ll be stuck wearing this pathetic maid uniform. 

it takes everything inside you to not pull him by the ear. with much reluctance, you guide lohen towards a booth at the very back of the store—far, far away from any prying eyes. setting down his menu without a second of thought or consideration, you try not to feed into his strange, rather delusional mind. you knew that the moment you turn your back on him, he will pull his phone out, taking pretty photos of you in this dress.

you hate the idea of being his maid. it was the lowest of the low. a new kind of humiliation you knew you were about to face tomorrow morning. who would have thought that after a few years of working at this store, someone from your school finally showed up, and it had to be lohen. it just had to be him.

although you appreciate his efficiency, especially when it came to work and tracking down payments, there were times in which he caused a little too much trouble. instead of confronting people normally about their late payments, he interrogated them like criminal subjects. furthermore, he had an odd way of showing affection. while he could be generous at times, offering to take the heavy load of books off your arms, or finishing your reports, it doesn’t change the fact that he does it to annoy you. from gum that stained your tongue a bright shade of green, to swapping out your milk carton for tomato juice, being around him always caused trouble. underneath his exterior of a kind man, was a beast with a strange appetite to torment people. sadly for you, it seems like you were going to be his newest victim. 

lohen stares up at you from his seat, a pout forming on his lips as he waves the menu around, “the service here is very hostile. are you sure you’re doing your job correctly? i heard maid cafes were all about serving their masters.” 

you could feel your left eye twitch in response, “you…” 

this was another thing you hated about your job. just because you worked at a maid cafe, it did not give any of your patrons the permission to harass you. you knew that going into these shops, you would be bombarded with fan service, but like all establishments, touching was strictly forbidden. thankfully, you did have one trusted coworker with you today. if lohen became too chaotic, he could be banned from the establishment entirely. what a blessing it would be—not having to see him here again.

forcing the edges of your lips to smile, you place your hand onto the paper menu, forcing it back onto the table. “that’s right. what would you like me to get for you… master?” the last word felt like knives cutting into your tongue. it grossed you out in unimaginable ways. 

lohen mumbles to himself, placing a finger below his chin as he skims through the menu. aside from the karaage or omurice, everything else on the menu was practically dripping in syrup and whip cream. if you took a kid here, one pancake could fulfill their sugar high for years. while lohen doesn’t necessarily have a sweet tooth, he plans on maximizing his time here as much as possible. especially… his eyes glances up at you, staring up and down at the tasteful outfit your workplace provided.

when you feel his gaze linger for too long and a little too low, you reach over to shove the menu back in his face. you wipe yourself of any niceties, replacing any fondness you had for your previous patrons with a scowl. “are you going to get anything or not?”

lohen grins in your direction, unaffected by your glare. if anything, he feels more charmed seeing you like this; annoyed and dolled up. “well, what would you recommend?”

“anything tastes good.”

“really now?”

“yes…”

“something tells me you’re not telling me the whole truth.” he starts to fan himself with the menu, leaning further back into his chair as he lazily replies back to you,  “whatever. i’ll get the full set. drink and entree. you wouldn’t mind that at all, would you now?” 

“of course not…” as long as he was paying, you suppose it would be fine.

you write down his order on a notepad, scribbling alongside his name a disgusted cat. at least it was something to take your mind off of the headache he was starting to create. your cafe’s set meal was a little different from others in town. while they still provided you with a sparkly drink and entree, your workplace had custom photocards printed of every worker. it was another piece of souvenir the customer could take home with them. on top of the generous service, you were also expected to take a photo with your customer at the end of their meal. and while it was cute for young girls, being able to take girly pictures with a bright, confident smile, having to do it next to lohen felt mortifying. worst of all, he would have physical evidence that you worked at this establishment.

your eye start to twitch once more. you notice this tick a lot more when you’re around lohen. “what kind of photocard would you like today? we have other maids working today, if you would like to take photos with them at the end of your meal, they would be happy to join.” 

after pointing at a wall, lohen could see your coworkers in full view. there were at least four other girls working alongside you. a few of them were cute. they had pretty smiles and a lovely expression—but the one he was looking most forward to was the girl in front of him, scowling and holding back curses like a sailor.

“i’d love to take a picture with my pres!” 

you immediately kick his shin from underneath the table, shushing him immediately. “don’t call me that here!” with gritted teeth, you harden your glare at him, trying to scare him into silence. even though it wasn’t going to work on a person like him, it was worth a try. “if you’re going to be here, at least be quiet about my life outside of work.” 

“whats the fun in that? i thought you liked being called pres, it makes you feel more important, doesn’t it?”

this response earns him not just another kick to the shin, but a stamp to his feet. 

“ow!”

“just sit patiently and wait for your food, master.” 

you quickly turn away with a huff, walking in the direction of your other coworkers. you cannot believe your luck right now. you’ve spent so long working at this place without much of a hitch, and suddenly, out of the blue, your vice president, the one you’re forced to see every single day at school, shows up to visit. you would have been fine if it was anyone else. maybe the nice girl that sits behind you in class. or the boy who shares his lunch with you. anyone but lohen. you don’t know what kind of rumors might show up tomorrow morning. or the look on his face when you enter your classroom meeting. regardless, the more you think about it, a vicious shiver runs down your spine.

perhaps it wasn’t just the thought of him that makes you cold—but his stare too. 

nevertheless, after a few minutes of waiting for his food and tending to other guests, you return with a tray with his food and drink. even though you saw him order earlier, it is still a strange surprise. everything on his plate had been practically vomited on by a cute angel made out of sprinkles, whip cream, and chocolate. you would have never expected that the man in front of you, the kind that would always chew gum in the hallway like a delinquent, had an affinity for sweets. or he ordered it just to piss you off because of course he wanted you to draw something on it. either one works.

lohen ordered a stack of pancakes with whip cream piped onto the top like two rabbit ears. there were even small circles of chocolate that made his entire dish look like a cute animal. another thing you hate about this place is how adorable they make all their food look—even if it did rot your teeth. on the left of him was a pink sparkling soda, topped with another tower of whip cream and a heart shaped straw. overall, it was nothing like the lohen you knew at school.

“i think this is the part where you wish for my food to be delicious.” lohen leans over the table, a cocky smirk spreading across his face. “c’mon pres, you don’t want to keep me waiting, now do you?” 

instead of a ketchup bottle, you reach for the chocolate sauce. without much eagerness or excitement, you stare at him with a dead, fish-eye expression. but the smile on your face hasn’t left whatsoever.

“moe… moe… kyun. make this food… delicious.” 

“make this food delicious!” lohen claps his hands, finishing your words as he glances back up to you. “now, about that photo, am i supposed to finish my food before you take one with me?”

your eye twitches once more, “no… we can take a photo right now. just to get it over with…” 

“well, you don’t sound so excited!” 

unbeknownst to your suffering, your coworkers came with gleeful smiles, cooing over lohen’s handsome appearance. despite his less than charming personality, his face didn’t carry the same sentiment. his eyes were, unfortunately, a pretty shade of red and turquoise. the mole beneath his right eye was also another nice detail to his face. it makes him a little more recognizable in crowds. overall, he was disgustingly good looking and that pisses you off even more. it was too pretty. too easy to be fooled. he could trick the nice, old lady across the street into letting him into her home. make no mistake, this man was the devil’s reincarnate. 

for this photo, you awkwardly sat beside him, positioning the food in a way where the camera could see the entire table. lohen’s face brightened up significantly. his smile growing wider than ever—but you knew it wasn’t out of the goodness of his heart. the glimmer in his eyes darkened slightly and you start to feel nervous. you try your best not to make your feelings obvious. it would be a stab to your pride to feel afraid of someone like him.

“can you both make a heart with your hands?” your coworker asks, holding up a polaroid camera, “and get a little closer? you both look so nervous and awkward! come on!”

you restrain yourself from audibly sighing. scooching closer to lohen, you feel his arm slowly graze behind your back, still hidden under the table as to avoid your coworker’s prying eyes. his fingers dance across the side of your waist, toying with the lace fabric. he pushes himself closer to you.

“like this?”

“thats right!”

you continue to smile, holding up a cheesy heart sign while lohen connects the symbol. while your coworker fixes the camera setting, his fingers were still gripping onto your waist, trying to pinch at whatever skin he could grab. he wanted you to fumble over yourself. maybe knock over the table in embarrassment. hit him over the head. anything that could possibly get everyone's attention onto the two of you. but sadly for him, you did none of that. for every time he pinched, you kept your heel planted on his shoe, grinding until you feel him flinch. the two of you were wincing from the pain, but nevertheless, the photo was taken, and you hurriedly left the seat once it was over.

before you could leave the station, lohen calls out to you, the same smirk plastered over his face.

“pres, you forgot something.” 

“huh?”

he flicks in your direction a second photo. as it slowly develops under the ceiling lights, you see yourself and him, sitting together in the same booth. your face starts to heat up slightly. as your blood starts to boil with frustration, lohen can only grin from his side of the table. twirling his fork, he playfully waves to you. the audacity of this man…

“do you mind signing it? i want to make sure i get proof that i was with that girl in the picture.” he gives you a flirtatious wink—something that makes your face freeze up in confusion, “i presume i’ll be seeing you tomorrow morning as well?”

after signing your name clumsily with a pink marker, you slam the photograph onto the table. 

“whatever.” 

you scurry off in the other direction, praying that once the hour was over, he would leave. meanwhile, as lohen digs into his pancake, he continues to stare at you. his fingers graze over the smooth surface of the photo, admiring the look on your face. although your smile was cute, seeing you so angry at him does something different to him. it was strangely satisfying—having you worked up over his simple existence. it makes him want to visit you even more now. 

he relaxes into his seat, swooning over his student council president.

[luminaur]

The phailings are plotting something ft.Phailings

A little late for Phaiversary so we gonna have three of them (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

[ruruumin]

x5 - be my tank

₊˚ෆ college au!phainon x vocalist!reader.

synopsis; on a dreary night, a nameless band and singer relieves phainon of his homesickness. determined to find her once more, their worlds collide when phainon realizes: his favorite vocalist is his classmate (name).

genres/warnings; smau, college au, classmates to lovers, profanity, timestamps don’t matter, photographs are non-representative of reader, fem!reader.

⤷ masterlist

₊˚ ୨ৎ taglist [30/30]

@sunphais @t0r4s @sinbehavior @chxnnieee @m0reighn4 @aloudice @morichhaa @yourfavoritefreakyhan @violetisreadinghush @celesteelysia @phainons-goonbrick @kazeniya @luphyllum @potabletable @zanksa @mizuiaiiii @junoms @nicosworldoffun @veinpi @pookiei-bookie @a1-ic3 @skylions-den @kumiluvvsu @phainonsleftthigh @kaz-unidentified @fo-love @maggiforlifesstuff @tamashithe2nd @arluene7688 @2000-very-small-ants

[ihavesomejays]

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