#logos and pathos masterlist

[anonymousewrites]

Logos and Pathos

TOS! Spock x Non-binary! Empath! Reader

Book 1:

Follows the Events of Season One

Book 2:

Follows the Events of Season Two

Book 3:

Follows the Events of Season Three

Book 4:

Follows the Events of the Motion Pictures

AOS Edition:

Follows the Events of Star Trek (2009), Star Trek: Into Darkness, and Star Trek: Beyond

Specials:

Christmas, Valentine's Day, Pride, Halloween

Taglist:

@a-ofzest

@grippleback-galaxy

@genderfluid-anime-goth

@groovy-lady

@im-making-an-effort

@unending-screaming

@h-l-vlovesvintage

@neenieweenie

@keylimeconstellation

@wormwig

@technikerin23

@ilyatan

@nthdarkqueen

@kyalov

@starlit-cass

@rookietrek

@gingertimelord

@snowy-violet

@jaguarthecat

@jac012

[linkemon]

Logos, ethos and pathos (Kaveh x Reader x Alhaitham)

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you're interested.

Other oneshots can be found here.

ʟᴏɢᴏs, ᴇᴛʜᴏs ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴀᴛʜᴏs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ʀʜᴇᴛᴏʀɪᴄᴀʟ ᴛʀɪᴀɴɢʟᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪʟʟᴜsᴛʀᴀᴛᴇs ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀɪsᴛɪᴄs ᴏғ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ sᴘᴇᴀᴋᴇʀ. ᴀʟʜᴀɪᴛʜᴀᴍ ᴡᴀs ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴠᴇʀʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴀᴛ ᴇxᴘʀᴇssɪɴɢ ʜɪs ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs. ʜᴇ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴛʜɪs ᴋɴᴏᴡʟᴇᴅɢᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴇʟᴘ ʜɪᴍ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ. ᴀɴᴅ, ᴀʟᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ʜᴀʀᴅ ғᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴅᴍɪᴛ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ʜɪɴᴅsɪɢʜᴛ, ᴋᴀᴠᴇʜ ᴡᴀs ᴅᴇғɪɴɪᴛᴇʟʏ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴀᴛ ɪᴛ…

ᴀᴅᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ɪɴғᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: 1. ᴏɴᴇsʜᴏᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴋᴀᴠᴇʜ ʜᴀᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ʏᴇᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ɢᴇɴsʜɪɴ ᴀs ᴀ ᴘʟᴀʏᴀʙʟᴇ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ. ɪ ʀᴇʟɪᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟsᴏ ᴏɴ ʟᴇᴀᴋs. ʜɪs ᴠᴇʀsɪᴏɴ ᴍᴀʏ ʙᴇ ᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀs ʀᴇʟᴇᴀsᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴀᴍᴇ.

Alhaitham read the same paragraph again. He didn't know why he needed a rhetorical triangle. Logos, ethos and pathos. Logos, ethos and pathos. Logos, ethos and pathos… He shook his head. His eyes scanned the text over and over, trying to make sense of it. What did he really need the ability to speak for? After all, he rarely spoke. It was tiring. And when he did say something, he was usually not understood anyway. Was it too late to fix it?

The man's attention was also constantly distracted by [Reader]. Underneath her bangs, he saw her smiling happily as she sipped her morning coffee. She fit the picture. Togehter with the chair placed in front of the house, the singing birds and the rays of sun illuminating her silhouette. The ring on her finger announced to everyone that she was in a relationship. Such view made him feel nostalgic. 

*** 

Alhaitham looked around. The sun was slowly setting over the horizon. From one of the highest points, under the shade of Great Tree, he could watch people finishing their day's work. Many people in Sumeru were rushing out of the bazaar to rejoin with their families. Where he sat, padisarahs grew thickly. Enough to hide him from the prying eyes of others, along with the slightly swaying grass. And he had had enough of these looks. Especially after his parents left, becoming the subject of gossip and leaving him with unwanted feeling of pity from strangers.

The boy pricked up his ears for a few seconds. In the distance, however, he could only hear the clattering and singing of several small birds held by a neighbour belonging to Amurta. The Dusk Birds didn't seem happy about living in cages, pecking furiously at the metal bars. 

It seemed that no one would come to his quiet corner today after all. Not that he was waiting for it. No way...

Alhaitham stroked the cover of the book in his hands. Gold letters embossed in a floral pattern immediately told him what he would be dealing with. He didn't even need to use Akasha to know that this was going to be the clichiest romance novel you could find in the library. Besides, even if he hadn't guessed, [Reader] would have told him about it a few seconds later. In a very loud and very annoying way, while forcing him to read another book when he left, like every week. So far she came every day. But now she hasn't appeared for a long time. 

And good. He finally had the peace he had wanted from the very beginning...

But did he really like it? 

When he told his grandmother about [Reader], she was happy. Even though she put knowledge on a pedestal and disregarded many other aspects of life, she still worried that her grandson lacked friends. After she took him away from the Academy when he announced that he was bored there all day, she was concerned about his lack of contact with his peers. She made several attempts to force him to integrate but most were unsuccessful. The children of neighbours and even friends from Kshahrewar, whom she invited, most often felt intimidated by young Alhaitham's knowledge or bored with his reluctance to participate in popular games. That's why she was very interested in the girl with whom he exchanged more than a few words. She really wanted to meet her but the boy refused to do so digging in his heels. All she could do was ask him to give her the baked goods, which she hoped would help make him a new friend. Which she wasn't wrong about because [Reader] stuffed almost everything ifrom the basket into herself, scattering crumbs around and repeating that Alhaitham's grandmother was a great cook. 

At first, the boy told himself that he tolerated [Reader's] presence because he didn't want to disappoint his grandmother. However, when she stopped peeking into his corner, he began to impatiently await her presence. 

— You're not coming today either, aren't you? — Alhaitham turned to his recently started reading of the translation of ancient manuscripts. For some reason it didn't seem particularly engaging today. 

— Are you waiting for someone? — A familiar voice said a few steps away from him. There was an offensive note in it. No doubt in response to his thought aloud. 

Alhaitham didn't take his eyes off the symbols on the page but he felt a kind of relief. 

— Certainly not on you. 

— Hmmm... If it's not on me, I guess I'll leave — saying this, she turned around. 

The boy knew it was just a game. He was aware of her looking out of the corner of her eye, waiting for his reaction. That's why he didn't speak, still reading. 

— I was joking! — [Reader] crossed her legs and sat down right in front of him. 

She looked none too pleased that he hadn't fallen for it but her thoughts quickly vanished when she saw the cover of the book she had lent him sticking out of her bag. 

— How did you like it? — She brought out the romance. 

She lay down unceremoniously on the grass, holding it over her face and turning random pages. 

— Why do you assume I like it? — Alhaitham still didn't take his eyes off the runes. — It was quite the opposite. 

The book fell onto [Reader's] face with a dramatic splat. There was no indication that she was going to pick it up. 

— Oh, come on! I can't believe you weren't hooked. There's literally everything here! Fantastic plot, great characters and emotions! — Came an emotional voice from behind the cover. 

— I don't like fantasy or romance. Moreover, the plot had at least a dozen holes and the characters made a lot of illogical decisions. None of their feelings matched mine — said Alhaitham.

That's how it was. He assumed that was probably not what the girl wanted to hear but telling the truth seemed like the right thing to do. 

— It wasn't THAT bad! — [Reader] suddenly stood upright. — People do different things and behave different when they are in love. Maybe you didn't like it because you haven't experienced a real romance yet? — she suggested. 

— I don't think that will ever happen — said the boy.

There was a moment of silence, broken only by the sounds of birds tapping on a nearby cage. The girl was eating another round of baked goods, wiping the jam from the zaytun peaches with her sleeve. Alhaitham gave her a quick glance every now and then. She looked like she was deep in thought about something. 

— You really didn't like anything about it? — she asked again after a long pause. 

He shook his head, reaching for one of the last rolls. He wasn't in the habit of lying but the look on [Reader's] face in the setting sun for some reason let him know he'd messed up. Her eyes lacked the previous enthusiasm. Usually the same thing happened to other people who tried to befriend him but it didn't bother him that much at the time. 

— I really liked it. — The girl clutched the book to her chest. — I thought you'd find something you liked and we could talk about it — she admitted, disappointed. 

Alhaitham wanted to add that they could talk about it even if the book didn't make a good impression on him. However, [Reader] changed the topic of conversation before he could put into words what he wanted to say. The conversation had taken a different turn and he no longer felt it appropriate to return to it. 

*** 

This wasn't the first time [Reader] had looked into Alhaitham's house. However, she had to admit that this time she felt like a thief. The host was not inside. She knocked tactfully but was aware that the only person who could answer was currently far away. 

Despite the sun shining overhead, the rain was pouring down mercilessly. The drops were getting thicker by the second. Everyone ran away from the street as fast as they could. Women tried to cover themselves with muslin scarves but it didn't help much. [Reader] got wetter and wetter, desperately searching for a spare key hidden in one of the flowerpots. At first she was amazed how someone with such a brilliant mind as her friend could calmly hide it there on a regular basis. As he himself said: "The darkest place is under the candle." And with this slogan on his lips, full of peace, he hid it where he always did.

A pleasant warmth spread over the woman's body as she crossed the threshold of the house. Her wet hair, no longer ruffled by the gusty wind, fell on her forehead. 

— Stop! 

[Reader] braked mid-step, brushing away the strands blocking her vision. Her eyes saw a blond man with a blue feather braided in his hair. From a distance, he reminded her of a bird. Whenever he moved, the materials surrounding his body danced. She could say the same about the jewelry decorating him. There was a frying pan in his hand. She didn't know if he was preparing dinner or if he had pulled it out especially to welcome the intruder. 

— Who are you? — the young man asked, pointing the frying pan at her accusingly. 

— I could ask you the same thing — [Reader] said, crossing her arms over her chest. — You must be Kaveh — she added after a moment. 

Judging by the fact that there were still streaks of coal on his cheek and that he had a pencil tucked behind his ear, it was easy to guess. 

The blonde followed the girl, clearly wanting to protest as she made herself comfortable in the living room. 

— For the love of Seven! Alhaitham will kill me — he muttered dissatisfied. 

— You'll be fine. I'm [Reader], Alhaitham's friend. I think Alhaitham would rather kill you for telling me to get out. — Saying this, she made herself comfortable on the green pillows. 

— Did he mention me to you? 

She nodded. 

— Only the worst things. — She laughed heartily. 

Her friend didn't tend to colour unless it was necessary. From the very beginning, however, she felt that the stories told about the eccentric architect were suspiciously negative. Alhaitham really didn't like him and it showed. 

— Then you're telling the truth — Kaveh said, setting the pan aside. 

He disappeared deeper into the apartment for a moment and returned with a towel and a cup of coffee. Maybe it wasn't a mixture like from Puspa Café but the smell spread throughout the entire room. 

— Thanks. — [Reader] gratefully accepted the hot brew.

Kaveh stared at her intensely.

— I will not disturb you. I'll run away as soon as it clears up — she promised, seeing him looking at her. 

— Ah... Stay as long as you want. That's not what I meant — he added when he realized that the girl had noticed that he was watching her. 

— So what's it about? 

— Be my muse! 

[Reader] almost spit out her coffee. 

— Excu... excuse me? — she asked, trying to clear her throat. 

— I'm working on a new sculpture and I need some inspiration — Kaveh explained, digging through a drawer and taking out some paper. — Unless... as Alhaitham's friend, you have art sticked up your... 

Oh well. Kaveh expected this from the very beginning. Apart from his darshan, it was difficult to find people in Sumeru who had a special passion for artistic forms. Especially after the restrictions on public performances were tightened. People were leaning more towards applied art. 

[Reader] was the first person he openly asked for this form of help. Of course, he also drew inspiration from various people at the Academy but usually none of them knew about it. Moreover, his main education was in architecture. In his case, knowledge of plant and animal motifs was much more useful. And they didn't have much to say about whether they wanted to be someone's source of inspiration. 

— Not true! I'm ready! — [Reader] shook him violently by the shoulders. — Just tell me what to do! 

The architect's ruby eyes seemed to glow. His mind seemed to shift rapidly to another track. 

— So listen carefully. For the final exam, everyone has to prepare a sculpture inspired by any book. There is a scene I want to recreate when the main character runs in the rain to meet her lover. This is perfect because your hair is wet and… 

— You read cheap romance novels — [Reader] said, as if in disbelief. 

— I beg your pardon! - Kaveh huffed indignantly. — A book is a book... 

— No, you don't understand! — [Reader] interrupted him. — I also read them and many others like it. It's just that a lot of people around say that they are not worth much. 

— You mean Alhaitham? — The blond raised an eyebrow with theatrical contempt. 

— Not only him — she admitted, slightly embarrassed. — Sumeru is the city of wisdom. This is not everyone's definition of something worth devoting time to. 

In fact, that's exactly what happened. People in her darshan often told her that she should focus on something more useful. After all, as a woman of science she should be the example and read only serious literature. It is best to create equally serious publications and research on its basis so that the whole process can be repeated from the beginning with people who will come after her. 

With recent improvements in Akasha base libraries, the need for physical copies of books has decreased significantly. Not many new items were printed anymore. They tended to focus on small expenditures. Fortunately, the situation was saved by novels imported from Inazuma. Yae Publishing House was doing quite well and, to [Reader's] delight, it was quite accurate in her reading preferences. 

— Hmpf! I see such reading as satisfying human needs. Some people just need to read about magnificent events and feel emotions. There's nothing shameful about it. Now that we've established that, let's try sketching... 

*** 

[Reader] felt that this was how it would all end. That's why she waited in the now closed library under the cover of darkness. The only company she had was the pale moonlight streaming through the windows and a small candle placed on the table. 

The section with physical copies of books, access to which was restricted in the Akasha, was quite well guarded. Fortunately, the chief librarian also studied at Vahumana. She knew the girl very well. So, though apprehensively, she lent her the keys for the night, at the same time pointing out that if anything happened, she would blame [Reader] without hesitation. 

— Good evening — the student greeted Alhaitham wryly. 

Silver hair reflected streams of moonlight. He seemed to be an apparition in the night. Silent and elusive. At least so far. 

— [Reader], what are you doing here? — The boy glanced at her. 

— The more important question is, what are you doing in here? — She received no response. But she knew it well. 

— You can not do it. — [Reader] tried to keep up with her friend. 

She really hoped something had dawned on him when they talked that afternoon. Writing an interdisciplinary thesis was required in both Vahumana and Haravatat. As fate would have it, the instructors selected them together. She was pretty sure they just figured not many people could stand Alhaitham. She understood why. He could be aloof if he didn't like someone. She herself really liked the idea of cooperation. Until something else came into play beyond the project itself. 

— It's not theft, [Reader]. — The boy quickly jumped down to the floor below. 

Sometimes she wondered how he was so fit after spending half his life with his nose buried in books. The muscles probably didn't come from turning the pages but she had never seen him practice. 

— You know it's not about stealing! The thing is, they might throw them out… — She took a roundabout route downstairs. 

A few days ago, when a couple who also had to write a thesis came to them with a request, the girl couldn't believe what she heard. The professors specifically selected them with a topic that contrasted with their own. They expected that Alhaitham's work would, as usual, receive the highest scores and that they would be able to deliberately fail two students who were inconvenient to them. 

So, out of desperation, the poor people came to ask for [Reader] and her friend to put in just a little less effort than usual. All this so that they could still study at Akdemiya. They encountered extremely different attitudes. While the girl empathized with their situation and decided to help them somehow, Alhaitham said that if they are not able to impress the teacher with their work, then maybe studying is not for them. 

When Alhaitham proposed using information from the library's hard-to-access collections for her work, [Reader] protested. Any other time she probably wouldn't have had any problem with it. Now, however, it would be an additional advantage that would drastically reduce the chances of their rivals. She had no doubt that few people went so far as to sneak into the library illegally. If anything, it was usually done through acquaintance or with the help of bribery to obtain the keys. The two students probably did not have such opportunities. Meanwhile, her friend was doing it like a real thief, entering the library through who knows which entrance. 

— It's not their fault they're being picked on by professor — Alhaitham admitted, looking for a suitable shelf. — But that doesn't change the fact that if they were able to write a perfect paper, professors wouldn't be able to throw them out. 

— Why can't you cooperate with me? — asked the frustrated girl. 

— After all, we divided the research areas together. Each of us does our part. We work together, [Reader]. 

In an academic sense, that's what it was like. But that wasn't what she meant. 

— But... - she wanted to protest but gave up. 

What sense did that actually make? Alhaitham has been doing what he wanted since he was a child. If he had a vision in his head, he did everything he could to make it come true. His logical arguments were difficult to refute. She didn't stand a chance. 

— Wait a minute… — [Reader] snatched three thick volumes out of six out of his hand. — We don't need this at all. Sounds like something that... — In a split second, everything took on a new meaning. — You came here for them too? — she asked as her friend took the books back and headed for the exit. 

Alhaitham handled the armful of books with ease. There was a faint smile on his face. As if he was proud that she had finally deigned to understand his plan.

He didn't have to write a worse paper. It didn't make logical sense to suddenly pretend to be stupider than he was. He would also not rub the noses of mean professors whom he himself did not like. Instead, he was able to help two students to set their work to a higher standard. He won't do all the work for them but it should make their job a lot easier. If they put some effort into it, they should be able to do it. Besides, he read the first chapter and dared to claim that they really knew what it was about.

He didn't expect [Reader] to grab his arm as he was about to leave the library. 

— I'm glad you're helping them. I'm really happy but why couldn't you tell me that right away? I know you like working alone but we're a team now. Your plans, Alhaitham, are not so obscure that others cannot know them. — With that she walked back towards the moonlit table. 

*** 

— Remind me why you drag me out of bed at six in the morning. — [Reader] yawned loudly. 

She waddled half-consciously after Kaveh, who was bursting with too much energy in the morning for her liking. His blond hair reflected the glow of the sun just rising over Sumeru. He bounced with almost every step, showing his excitement. In his hand he held Mehrak that made robotic sounds from time to time. 

— You must see this! 

— Can't it wait a few hours?" — The girl moaned. 

— It can't — the architect said.

So they walked the city streets together. The cobblestones soon turned to packed earth. They went out to the outskirts of Sumer, at the roots of the GreatTree. 

— Ladies and gentlemen, maybe you would like to look at the key rings? — A child ran up to them. 

— We're not interested in… — [Reader] began. 

— Sure — Kaveh interjected. 

The girl gave him an accusing look. She didn't get up early in the morning so they could waste time shopping. They were just in a real hurry. She wanted to protest again but her words fell out of his companion's other ear. 

The architect began to look at the individual decorations with the air of an expert. They were carved from wood. Each depicted a different animal. The quality left a lot to be desired but the idea itself was charming. Meanwhile, the boy praised his goods, saying that the proceeds would be used to provide meals for hungry children. One piece for one dinner. 

— I'll take them all — Kaveh said, holding out his supply of mora. 

The girl just rolled her eyes and took Mehrak with her. She knew she couldn't reason with its owner. The suitcase made a welcome sound. The expression on the robotic face changed to happy. [Reader] saw a visualization of recent projects. One of them was a series of houses. It looked like it was quite an early stage of work. She usually saw already finished objects. 

— The one with the lion suits you — the girl said as Kaveh finished the transaction and began to put all the key rings into his suitcase. 

— I always knew I was the king — the boy said proudly. 

— I would say it's because of your uncombed mane but... 

— Ha! Just so you know, I got up and did my hair first thing in the morning! 

— Awww, Kaveh made himself more beautiful just for me — [Reader] said to Mehrak, who changed his reaction to the smiling face. 

In fact, that's exactly what happened. But she didn't need to know about it. He hasn't been sleeping very well lately. He was absorbed both in the work that Kshahrewar required of him and in his side projects. He found satisfaction in it but he had the impression that as soon as he closed his eyes, it was already another day.

When the idea of sharing the project with [Reader] occurred to him at night, he promised himself to wake up earlier to look at least a little better than the sleep-deprived version of himself after a few cups of his favourite coffee. He felt that a little longer and Enteka would really stop selling him the brewing mixture for fear of his health. 

— Kaveh... you know you've been cheated on? — [Reader]'s voice was gentle. As if she didn't quite know whether it was worth starting the topic. 

They set off along the beaten path again. The blonde nodded. That was the truth. In Sumeru, even health care was financed from above. The number of really hungry children was a tiny percentage. Unlike the other great nations of Teyvat where this was a bigger problem. On the other hand, he preferred to look like a fool. Even if the kid was lying, Kaveh doubted he would spend the money for a completely wrong purpose. He had seen him several times before. He always shared his toys with his neighbours' children. Marbles were often played on the streets and he was most often seen with them. He himself used to spend his days like this. Before the house was completely engulfed in flames and a series of misfortunes began to follow his family.

— Your heart is too good for this world — said [Reader].

— I'd rather have a too good heart than no heart at all — Kaveh replied. 

With these words, he took a keychain from his pocket. A tiny swan swayed on the end of a metal ring. [Reader] accepted it, looking at her feet. She felt stupid. Not only did he specially choose an art-related animal for her, which reminded her of their first meeting but he also did not hide it in Mehrak. He knew exactly from the beginning that he would give it to her. 

— [Reader]? 

— Hmmm? 

— It was a compliment to me. I am not angry at you. — Kaveh took the suitcase from her. 

— I know — she said.

But the truth was that she didn't know. She felt a tiny stone fall from her heart the moment he said that. Mainly because although to some (including Alhaitham) this constant faith in people seemed childishly naive, it impressed her. She really didn't want him to lose it. It was so embedded in him that it was contagious. And among so many people in the Academy, where competition pushed scientists to do various not-so-pleasant things, it was nice to have someone who spread exactly different, positive ideas. 

— We're here — Kaveh announced proudly. 

The girl looked around the area but there was nothing here but grass. And also a place that looked as if someone had previously demolished the area. 

— Is this your new construction?

— So you were already looking at the preliminary designs? A new center for children is to be built here. They were looking for people in Kshahrewar and I volunteered. Unfortunately, I was the only one. — The frustrated architect slowly exhaled through his nose. 

[Reader] looked back at the grass. Immediately afterwards, she remembered the swan keychain still in her hand. 

— Well... I don't know if I'll be able to lift all these timbers but the two of us can definitely do it — she said. 

— I'm an architect, not a builder — Kaveh replied. 

— Are you saying that I have to build this house myself?! — [Reader] panicked. 

In her darshan, no one taught about putting buildings together. Much less was any physical work done, apart from trips to the ruins in search of new sensations. 

— Of course not. Akademiya will send workers. I just have to do the project — Kaveh reassured her. — I thought that as someone from Vahumana, you probably already had some work with children. You'll have a better idea of what else I should add. 

— Yeah,this I can handle for sure.

That day, [Reader] was late for class. Just like the next one and for the next weeks. She knew that the professors in her darshan were not happy. Like Alhaitham, who scolded her that since she had decided to attend the Academy, she should at least show up there. But here she really learned by living example. She was doing something useful with her knowledge. It wasn't just monotonous typing of formulas and reading old books. She was doing something good. Together with Kaveh.

And when the finished house was finally officially opened and she saw the architect's smile among the children, she felt that it was worth it. 

*** 

— What do you want? — [Reader]'s unfriendly voice echoed throughout the vast room. 

The Grand Sage's office was well known to Alhaitham. The blue and yellow stained glass windows allowed a dull light to filter into the room. The rays fell most densely on the table covered with papers. This was probably the intention of the architects from Kshahrewar when they designed this room several hundred years ago. Show that work was its destiny and most important function. 

— I came to congratulate you. 

It was true. At least in part. Since the woman took up her new position, she rarely appeared at home. And if they did, it's usually very late and she just went to sleep. 

— There's nothing worth congratulating — she said. 

She seemed small next to the huge wooden chair. Tired eyes and a pile of documents indicated a lot of work. Both the one already done and the one that still awaited her. 

The furrow on the woman's forehead seemed to grow larger by the second. Her eyes avoided him like the plague.

— You're mad — Alhaitham said. 

— I have the right to do so. — [Reader] got up from the desk. 

— You're mad at me — he corrected himself. 

This wasn't the first time he'd seen her like this. But her anger was rarely directed at him. He was usually just an observer of these rare outbursts. Being the center of one of them was something completely different than usual. 

— Why? — he asked. 

— You are an intelligent man. You should know it. — [Reader] finally looked him in the eye. 

Alhaitham tried to remember the last time they had spoken normally. It seemed like it was recently. However, as he replayed the conversations they had had with each other in his head, he realized that most of them had taken place in the process of handing over her new responsibilities to the woman. The rest were mundane conversations related to living in the same house. And before all this, he himself was busy executing a plan to save the Archon of Sumeru. So the reason must have happened sometime during this period… 

— Is this about Nahida? 

[Reader] seemed surprised that he called the goddess by name. She was not yet used to her being called this way, even though the Archon asked her to do so personally. 

— It wasn't right, Alhaitham.

— I don't understand. 

The man knew his capabilities. He knew perfectly well that he had fulfilled one of the riskiest plans that many people would never dare to do. He thought everything through and executed it with precision. 

But when it came to [Reader], he seemed to lose most of his skills. It was as if part of what he could normally read in people was hidden from his eyes. This wasn't usually a problem because she expressed most of her feelings right away. But now he had the impression that, although many considered him a wise person, he was a complete fool. 

— Oh, by the Seven! That's the problem! You never understand. And no matter how many times I wait for something to change, it's always the same! — The voice echoed, bouncing off the white marble. — Why didn't you tell me all this?

— You weren't required for the plan to succeed. 

"You weren't required for the plan to succeed" sounded better than "I didn't want you to be a part of it." Because he didn't want to. Not in such a risky venture. Everything could have fallen apart at any stage. It didn't matter how many times he calculated the probabilities and the possible paths he could take. Neither version satisfied him enough to want to involve her in all this. 

— You say it but you don't mean it. The Alhaitham I know always says what he thinks. Because he's honest — she added, poking her finger into the center of his chest. 

He knew she was waiting for him to confess. The truth. But for some reason the words couldn't leave his mouth. Because if he really said it, it would be as if his earlier words were a mistake. And he wasn't wrong.

— It's not that I had to be there. I probably wouldn't even be very useful. But it hurt me that you didn't want to share this whole secret with me. I trust you with so many things but you couldn't tell me that you were taking on the most dangerous task of your life? Anything would do. Even one sentence. No details. — She pursed her lips. — What if you have failed? Would I only hear about it if they put you in jail? When Azar would announce that you were dead because you had lost your mind? 

Alhaitham stood in the very center of the hall. He couldn't remember many times in his life when he truly felt guilty. Probably in his childhood, when he rarely did something to upset his grandmother. But now this unpleasant feeling had sprouted inside him. Biting somewhere around his heart.

— And then you came up with this nomination for Grand Sage as if nothing had happened... — [Reader] continued. 

— You could have refused... — he began. 

— Who says no to the goddess of Sumeru? Be serious. Besides, you asked me. And I could never say no to you. — The woman's eyes ran towards the open window, where she could hear the singing of the Dusk Birds. Night was falling over the city. 

There was silence. Terribly long.

— I apologize. 

Alhaitham wished his silver bangs were covering both of his pupils at the moment. Perhaps then he wouldn't have to see the disappointment in [Reader's] eyes. 

— Don't you have anything else to tell me?

The man looked at the pocket where the gift he had chosen throughout the afternoon was hidden. The ring, shimmering green, twinkled warningly in the darkness. This wasn't how it was supposed to turn out. He wanted to congratulate [Reader], leave it here andgo out. And then maybe he would be a step closer. To say the words that had been ringing in his head for some time. But now it seemed to him that the distance between them had increased dramatically. As if instead of a small gap, there was an abyss separating them that had not been there until recently. 

— I apologize. — With that words on his lips he left. 

*** 

— I'll end up in poverty on the streets — Kaveh said.

His imagination was already working at full speed. In his head, he created scenes in which he would walk out the door with only Mehrak at hand and a few things he could take with him. 

He saw the contemptuous looks of the people from the Academy. The same ones for whom he was their biggest rival in Kshahrewar. And also disappointed, those who were captivated by his magnum opus. After all, the famous Alcazarzaray palace was talked about throughout Sumeru and beyond. 

— It won't be like that at all. I know you're behind on your rent but Alhaitham won't throw you out. 

[Reader] knew well that these two lived together like a dog and a cat. They were complete opposites. However, despite their frequent quarrels, in the end they always somehow managed to find a common ground. And although this thread was often thin and frail, at least it existed. 

Her childhood friend would never do something like that. Or at least she wanted to believe so.

— If necessary, I'll lend you money or find an apartment, — the woman continued. 

The position of the Grand Sage should not be used for such purposes but she felt that the goddess of Sumeru would not be angry about it. Especially since she sometimes mentioned how much she appreciated the architect. If she found out that he might become homeless, she would definitely help him. 

— I do not agree! Kaveh put his head on the desk as if to shut out the conversation. 

— Why not? — [Reader] asked, surprised. 

— No particular reason — he finished sluggishly. 

The truth was that there was pride in Kaveh. Pride, an old friend he found difficult to silence. Whether it was when he announced in his year that he would become the best student, or when he announced that he would build a palace that would amaze Teyvat. The same friend was biting him now. Because the mere thought of [Reader] knowing about his problems made him feel bad. However, what hurt him more was the thought that she would be the one to give him a loan to get out of this trouble. This is not how it should be. He didn't want it to be like this. 

— How can I help you if you don't want me to? — The woman rubbed her temples. 

— I do not need help… 

[Reader] looked at the sketches scattered across the desk. Cups with half-drunk coffee rested on some of them, forming brown circles like stamps marking nights of work spent creating. She already knew this condition. Busyness was nothing new for the brilliant architect. But now it was worse than usual. 

The room was stuffy. Some dust had already collected on the shelves, the particles of which were now dancing in the glow of the rising sun. The bedding looked almost untouched. It probably hasn't been used much in recent days. 

— You don't need it at all. It's best to continue ruining your health. You're doing it again, Kaveh! — [Reader] shook her head in disbelief. 

— Ah yes! It's best to pick on me. You and Alhaitham are both the best at this! — The blonde jumped up abruptly from the chair. 

Maybe he was a little turned on. Lack of sleep and coffee were taking their toll. However, it was true that the two of them were always right there to reprimand him. Though, as he later said, maybe it was because no one else had stayed with him that long. 

— If you don't need help, that means you're overdramatic... 

These words set him like a rag to a bull. He knew they weren't said with any particular intention. But it was Alhaitham's favorite quip and it reminded him of how long he and [Reader] had known each other. 

— That's who I am. If you don't like it, we don't have to talk! 

The uttered sentence hung in the silence in the room for a second. Kaveh knew he could be short-tempered. He rarely regretted it. However, this was the moment when he really wanted to turn back time. For that tiny moment that seemed to make a difference in [Reader's] patience. 

— You're right. We don't have to — she said, grabbing the door handle. — I wish you would just trust me when I say everything will be fine. — She slammed the door. 

Kaveh ran a hand through his hair. As if it would help him in any way. He closed his eyes for a moment but only [Reader's] features appeared in his mind. Her accusatory but sad look. She meant well. She was worried about his health. And it was far from ideal. At least in recent days. Why was it so hard for him to admit she was right? 

The man put his hand to his chest. He felt his heart beating rapidly and laughed heartily. He was a poor art lover if he couldn't recognize the most common motifs in his life.

He shook his head and grabbed the first sheet of paper full of sketches. He had spent the last few days working on it but it didn't really matter at the moment. He reached the door, praying to the Goddess of Wisdom for his success. 

— [Reader]! [Reader], wait! — he cried, breathing heavily. 

He was never in good shape. Fortunately, the street wasn't crowded yet. Most merchants were just arriving with their goods to be able to arrange them later. 

The woman turned around with a surprised look on her face. 

— I thought we weren't talking anymore — she said sarcastically as Kaveh caught his breath. 

— Sorry. I didn't want to accept your help because... — There was a moment of silence. — Because... Oh, Seven! Why does it have to be so hard when I have to say it myself?! 

This was definitely unusual behavior. Because since [Reader] first met the blonde, she had never seen him speechless. 

— Because I was ashamed to accept help from someone I was madly in love with! — With these words he fell to his knees and reached into his pocket. 

Several people on the street looked around curiously and two merchants even whistled, cheering the man on. 

— Kaveh... what are you... don't be silly. — The panicked woman tried to pull him upright. — You're not going to propose to me here, aren't you?

Everything happened at breakneck speed. A few minutes ago they were still arguing. She definitely didn't expect this when she got out of bed this morning. 

— This isn't a proposal. For now. Because I'm not saying I will never... Just not now... — he added, regaining his former self-confidence. — This is my gift to you. With a vow to improve and a request for you to become my beloved muse. 

The ring he pulled out of his pants' pocket was made of paper. The same one that, as [Reader] recognized, was lying on the desk not long ago. How on earth did he come up with this? She had no idea. She had to admit it was cute though. 

— All right, all right. I'm just begging you, get up. People around us probably think that we have just become fiancées... — while saying this, she discreetly pointed to two clapping men, who were joined by a group of dancers and a random passer-by.

— It doesn't bother me... OUCH! Okay, I'm not saying anything! — He raised his hands to surrender. 

*** 

— I'll walk you to work in a minute — Kaveh said as he left the house. 

[Reader] closed the romance novel she was reading and placed it on the table. She drank the rest of her coffee as she got ready to leave for work. She said goodbye to the scribe as she headed down the street.

Alhaitham watched the couple leave, still trying to convince himself that he had to finish reading the book. After a while, however, he put his reading aside. Right next to the one [Reader] was reading earlier. 

Sometimes thoughts came to him. What if he were the architect now? But then he always thought that it would never work. Even though he wouldn't admit it out loud, Kaveh was better at something than him. In being a speaker. He was able to put into words what was in his head. No matter how many titles on rhetoric books Alhaitham read, he was unable to implement their concepts in his life. Logos, ethos and pathos were not on his side... 

[beewolfwrites]

The Oar in the Sand - Masterlist

Chapter One: The Calm Before

Chapter Two: The First Day of Nostos

Chapter Three: The First Trial - Logos

Chapter Four: Guessing Games

Chapter Five: Good and Evil

Chapter Six: Hamartia

Chapter Seven: The Second Day of Nostos

Chapter Eight: Polyphemus

Chapter Nine: A Red Omen

Chapter Ten: In the Hands of the Morai

Chapter Eleven: The Eye of the Storm

Chapter Twelve: The Third Day of Nostos

Chapter Thirteen: A Second Strike

Chapter Fourteen: Shelter

Chapter Fifteen: The Fourth Day of Nostos

Chapter Sixteen: The Fifth Day of Nostos

Chapter Seventeen: The Second Trial - Pathos

Chapter Eighteen: Outlier

Chapter Nineteen: The Jack

Chapter Twenty: Negotiation

Chapter Twenty-One: Round Twelve

Chapter Twenty-Two: The Beginning of the End

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Sixth Day of Nostos

Chapter Twenty-Four: My Name is Nobody

Chapter Twenty-Five: The Third Trial - Ethos

Chapter Twenty-Six: No Way Out

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Release

Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Seventh Day of Nostos

Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Cost of Freedom

Chapter Thirty: Crossroads

Chapter Thirty-One: Ithaca

[more-stuff-of-pi]

Captain My Own Way

request: Can you do a Sawamura Daichi imagine where he’s dating the captain of the debate team and she’s having a hard time with her vice captain who thinks she only got the captainship because she’s a girl (the team is mostly boys) even though she’s hard working and smart so Daichi confronts the guy and she’s annoyed at him because she can handle it and he doesn’t understand because he’s trying to help and it’s the two of them working it out since they love and admire each other? {from @gloryofroses19​}

a/n: I know nothing about debate team and Google has failed me, so I apologize in advance but I did try my best :’( Thank you for the request (it’s my first one yay \(^ヮ^)/)! I hope it’s up to your liking :’)) We love and stan communication in this house

notes: y/s/n = your surname. requests are open :) find my masterlist here

pairing: sawamura daichi x fem!debate team captain!reader | genre: minor angst (w/lots of fluff) | warnings: swearing | word count: 1,856

“--and that’s why homework as a whole should be banned. For the benefit of students and teachers alike!” Otsuka rushed out his concluding sentence just as your phone’s timer went off.

“And time!” You stand up from where you and your vice captain, Masuda, had set up as a judges panel for the mock-debate. “Great work, Otsuka-kun! You played on logos for the majority of your argument but tying it all up with a call on pathos was a great way to conclude your counterpoint to Nomura’s argument. From the notes that Masuda and I took, I think we both agree that Otsuka-kun’s team won this debate.”

Annoyance rises in you as you struggle to maintain a light and positive composure while giving feedback to your team. The only tell was the slight twitch of your eye. Your vice had reluctantly grunted his agreement, arms crossed as he put in no effort to even pretend that he valued your opinion whatsoever.

“Nomura,” you refocused, “next time, for your conclusion, I think you should follow Otsuka-kun’s example and play more on the feelings of your audience! Empathy and sympathy are incredibly powerful emotions that can very well help decide someone’s position on an issue.” Nomura, the sweetheart that he is, smiles and nods shyly in response. You clap your hands, signaling the end of practice. “Okay! I’ll see you all on Friday for another mock-debate! I’ve managed to get Aoba Johsai to agree to a practice with us, so I expect you all to bring your best so that we can wipe the floor with them,” you grin proudly.

“What!” Kubo gasps. “How’d you do that?!”

You wink at her. “I’ve got my connections.”

“You’re so cool, Y/s/n-san!” Sugiyama whines, sweeping his things messily into his bag.

You grin, though, from the corner of your eye, you see Masuda give an exaggerated eye roll at your kouhais’ praise. He won’t let you have one goddamn thing will he.

As you neatly organize the files on your table, putting them away orderly, you occasionally break concentration to wave goodbye to the rest of the team filtering their way out of the classroom you all have been using as your club meeting space. As Ueno is the last one to leave, scrambling after Kubo and asking her on a date she always rejects, you’re left alone with Masuda. You feel like throwing up. It’s only been one full month since you’ve been the official captain of the Karasuno debate team and your vice has been doing a great job making your position a living hell.

“So, how did you manage to snag a practice debate, captain?” Masuda sneered.

You swallowed your desire to punch him square in the mouth and plastered on what you hoped to be a polite smile. “As I said, Masuda, I have connections in high places. They’re important in life’s work, you know.”

Masuda snorted. “They probably only agreed because you’re a girl and those are rare on debate teams.”

“Would you please stop talking about girls like we’re a rare species? Just because you aren’t well-acquainted with us does not mean that we don’t exist.” You mentally simultaneously kicked yourself for being such a smartass and gave yourself a fist bump for the same reason.

Masuda’s smirk fell to a glare. You only smiled brighter in response. Masuda huffed at you, grabbing his things and brushing past you as he left. “Bye, Masuda-kun! See you Friday!” you called cheerily, happy for the win.

For the past week it had been nothing but underhanded comments from him about how you supposedly got your position of captain due to your being a female. As far as you were concerned, you had worked your ass off for the past three years, jumping at any chance to make connections and help hoist up your ability as a debater and a leader. You were smart as hell and maintained your knowledge by reading up on as many current events as possible, so much so that you knew even the smallest of details that often go overlooked.

You were so frustrated over the blatant lack of respect your vice had for you, something which you constantly vented about to your boyfriend, Daichi. He knew the whole situation back and forth and oftentimes felt himself growing frustrated on your behalf, just like now when you recounted the events of your debate practice the next day at lunch.

“Is he an idiot, or something?” Daichi blurted as you told him about Masuda’s gestures.

You snorted, swallowing down a bit of food. “Must be.”

“I mean, does he not realize how hard you work? You’re incredible, baby girl, I just don’t get why he’s so adamant on tearing down your accomplishments.” Daichi’s eyebrows furrowed as he took a bite of beef.

Your heart warmed as a soft smile danced on your lips. “I love you.”

A blush rose on Daichi’s cheeks as he melted into a smile. “I love you, too.” He held your hand on the table, brushing his thumb across your knuckles. “Which is why I’m so frustrated for you. I wish I could help.”

“You being here and letting me talk to you about it is a big enough help as it is, so thank you.” You brought his hand to your lips as you pressed a gentle kiss to it. He turned his hand so that he held your cheek, his heart swelling with adoration. You lost yourself in his gaze before checking your phone for the time and suddenly yelping. Daichi jumped, pulling his hand away.

“Oh! I almost forgot, I have to call Seijoh to confirm for tomorrow!” You quickly swept up your things, cleaning up your half-eaten lunch. As you walked backwards hurriedly, you asked, “I love you, I’ll see you tonight?”

“I’ll see you tonight!” Daichi called after you, watching you turn on your heel and almost run to complete your task. There you go, working so hard again for the team you cared deeply for. Daichi knew how hard it was to be a captain and also how diligent you were. And smart. And kind. You did so much for your team and it angered Daichi to no end that anyone (and your vice no less!) would reduce your captainship to something as trivial as your gender. And Daichi knew that his anger had helped put people in line before. Maybe he could use it to help you…

•·················❁·················•

Daichi bounded down the stairs, opening the front door to welcome you inside for your study date. He was admittedly a little worried seeing as your text had read a simple ‘here’ which might not mean much to anyone else but Daichi knew you and knew that you always liked to text ‘here (* ^ ω ^)’ or even a simple ‘here!’.

“Hi, baby,” Daichi greeted, smiling brightly as he opened the door. That smile never failed to make your heart skip a beat, one of the many reasons that you loved him, though in that moment you couldn’t help but be annoyed with your wonderful boyfriend.

“Hi,” you returned, albeit a little coldly. You toed off your shoes and slipped into the slippers that you kept at his place. Thrown off by even the lack of a hello kiss, Daichi watched as you shuffled your way up to his room. Shaking his head, he closed the door and followed you. There was no doubt in his mind now that you were annoyed with him.

He hesitantly joined you at his usual place by your side on his floor during your Thursday evening study dates. You were steadfastly ignoring him, practically burning holes into your textbook rather than looking at him. Seeing as you were intent to keep doing so, Daichi sighed and set to work on his own homework, hoping to give you some time to tell him what had you so irritated.

He didn’t have to wait long. 

“Sawamura Daichi,” you prefaced, closing your textbook with a resounding thud, “I love you--”

“But?” He ventured.

“--and,” you emphasized with a pointed look, “I love that you want to help me, really, I do. But sometimes I’d rather take care of it myself.

“But he’s been bothering you for a whole month, baby, I wanted--” He stopped when you lifted up your hand.

“Please, just… let me finish.” You looked at him, hurt evident in your eyes. Upset that he would ever be the reason for it being there, he nodded and let you carry on. “I know you just wanted to help but if I needed it, I would have asked you for it, babe. I knew something was up when Masuda was late today because, as much as he is a giant jerk, he cares for this team as much as I do, just in his own way. He went off about how my ‘volleyball captain boyfriend’ cornered him and lectured him half to death about how to treat his ‘extraordinary debate team captain’. I know you did it because you thought you were helping, but next time, please just let me handle it.”

“I don’t understand, Y/n,” Daichi began, eyebrows knitted as he looked at you, “I thought I genuinely was helping. Since he clearly doesn’t listen to someone as intelligent and diligent as you, I thought maybe I could -- I don’t know -- that maybe I could intimidate him into being respectful.” You chuckled at that. The sound relieved a bit of the tension between Daichi’s brows, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I just-- It hurts so much seeing you frustrated because someone isn’t recognizing all that you do. I wanted to help and I thought I did. But I only end up upsetting you,” he frowned.

You sighed, picking up his hand and playing absentmindedly with his fingers. “I know, Daichi, I know. But what I’m getting at is that I wanted to handle it in my own way. I admire your ability as a captain and I admire how you lead your team and I admire how you’re able to wrangle them and straighten them out--,” Daichi let out a low chuckle, “--but I want to be able to captain my team in my own way. You and I are different people and that translates into how we lead. Does that make sense?”

“I think so,” he nodded. “You’re upset that I stuck my nose where it didn’t belong?” He squeezed your hand, smiling, assuring you that he truly did understand now and that he was only teasing.

“Essentially,” you laughed, the annoyance from before now fully replaced with the satisfaction of being with the one you loved most. “Thank you for wanting to help but next time ask me if I want it first, okay?”

“Okay.” Heat rose to your cheeks as Daichi lifted your hand, pressing a kiss onto the back of it, mimicking what you had done earlier that day. “I love you, Y/n.”

“And I love you,” you leaned in for a kiss, “Sawamura Daichi.”

•·················❁·················•

Needless to say, you both forgot about studying.

taglist: @samwrights​

[harrykilledmoi]

Silence + Noise | Part One

1985. Manhattan, New York.

Noise, a live fast, die young, wild child living in the Chelsea Hotel, meets Harry, a newly immigrated, struggling, young poet in search of inspiration.

This is a story about life. A life so loud it’s quiet, and so quiet it’s silent. Fast and fleeting. It's about music and poetry and art in the filthy dwellings of its creators in New York City.

Rated: M (for language) Word Count: 5.3K Themes:  AU, angst, 80s!Harry, Poetrry, love at first sight??? Pairing: Harry Styles x OFC Warnings: drug use + addiction, smoking

                            masterlist     read on wattpad       edits

Harry remembers the exact date and time that he first saw her.

June 30th, 1985.

10:34pm.

Although it could've been 10:36 as he was still unsure if his wristwatch was still running two minutes too slow. He does, however, vividly remember the weather.

The last remnants of spring were being washed away with the droplets that cascaded from the heavens that night. He'd thought he'd been lucky enough to leave the rain behind when he moved to New York, but like his writer's block, it seems the heavy clouds followed him across the pond as well. He was in search of inspiration and his small English county could no longer provide that for him. He'd only been in the city for a week but had still yet to find his footing, his place. It was the very words of Ginsberg that brought him to the seedy, down-at-the-heels boroughs of New York City, that propelled him to get on that plane, that brought him to her. Whatever the poets of Gotham were smoking, he wanted in.

He'd been walking down Canal Street that night, the rain lightly kissing the tops of his cheeks, puddles flooding around the soles of his loafers. Why he'd decided to wear the dark leather footwear on a night like that night was beyond him. It was his first official night out in the city, so it could be said that he subconsciously wanted to look his best. He'd spent his first week in the city holed up in his apartment. A corner walk up in an old hotel that rented rooms by the month.

The Hotel Chelsea.

The heartbeat of the city located in its underbelly.

He knew it from literature, from music, from art. He was told it was where artists are conceived, born, and died in a never ending forest fire of pathos, ethos, and on very rare occasions, logos. Swimming in a pool of their own shit and only their own shit, and then somehow making it glitter like gold. He was told it was where the muses lived. Every single one, from every myth and every legend. He was just waiting to meet his own.

He ducks into a dimly lit concrete stairwell when the rain begins to pick up. Soaking through the unbuttoned-at-the-top shirt he'd been gifted by a friend before leaving home. He stands under the small coverage provided by the building above him. Watching as bright yellow taxi cabs wiz by, distorting the already distorted refraction of soft warm light that spilled from the street lamps above. He watches a couple kiss in the rain before departing and going their separate ways and yet, although he was in the presence of such a magnificent amount of pulchritude, Harry was still unable to string words together into a verse that would do it justice.

A muffled cheer sounds from behind a door he hadn't realized led to anything, catching his attention. He turns, peaking into the frosted glass window located in the center of the old wooden door, leaning so close his nose flattens against it and his breath fogs the glass beyond its frost. He squints, trying to get a peek inside when the door swings open. He steps back swiftly, heart pounding, lungs heaving for air, hand pressed to his chest. The culprit, standing in the doorway eyeing him. Platinum blonde hair is the first thing he sees, then a sharply arched eyebrow over icy blue irises, and a cigarette, pressed between two lips painted in a maraschino cherry hue.

Harry struggles to collects himself when she side steps and gestures for him to enter or leave, either way, the purpose was to get him out of her way. His eyes are still locked on hers, swimming the in whirlpool of her energy, feet about to touch the sandy bottom of the frozen ocean within her eyes.

A snap of her fingers in the space between them pulls him out of his liquid dream like a buoy pulling a drowning boy to safety.

"Move it or lose it, I haven't got all day."

Her voice is unlike anything Harry had ever heard before. Although she looked lithe and delicate, her voice held grit and power. With an edge Harry could only imagine the sharpness of.

He squeezes past her through the door, their chest brushing as he scuttles. He dwindles when he catches a whiff of her. Whiskey and cigarettes and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on. Vanilla? Sandalwood? Whatever it was, he wanted more of it.

She scoffs as she pushes past him into the evening downpour, forcing him further than he'd planned on going. He turns quickly and watches her ascend the drenched concrete steps as the door closes, her tall, chunky heeled boots slapping against them like duck wings on water.

He stands there, staring through the small rectangular window at her blurred silhouette. It isn't until he's shoved lightly to the side, and then back, further into the bar by people trying to exit, that he realizes just how long he'd been standing there. In the process he loses sight of her.

The door opens again and Harry is pulled further into the small bar by a wayward group of people. He concedes in that moment, walking through the dive on at his own accord. His mind still spinning with a looped triptych of the encounter.

This was a new experience for Harry, the momentary loss of self in a stranger, specifically supernal, a particularly peculiar case of sonder. He'd had the luxury of knowing everyone in his small town and therefore had not been afforded the company of fresh faces and anomalous auras for the majority of his adult years of life. This was a feeling Harry wanted to relish in, to drink and be drunk on and its catalyst had just walked out the door to indulge in her nicotine laced vice, and in all probability, to not to be seen by him again. New York is a big city. All big, blinding lights and an even bigger populace.

That, however, didn't stop him from nursing an inaudible prayer on his lips as he ambles carefully through the bar, hoping, while trying to keep hold of realistic expectations, to catch a glimpse of the fair-haired sparkler one more time before he, himself, burned out.

The room, puzzlingly humid, dimly lit, and thick with people, carried the stench of old beer and rotting wood. A heavy cloud of cigarette smoke floats up from the crowd and threads through the dank wooden beams of the ceiling. The walls, covered in a deep red, are peeling and fading into a grimy brown, reminding Harry of the rust that sat on his neighbour's old chevy back in Cheshire. The floor, beer soaked wood that Harry was sure could give out at any moment if they weren't below street level.

Everyone in the room was gathered around a small stage made of old skids in the middle of the small space. A woman, small in stature with tousled brown hair tucked under a dark gray pageboy cap and black, thick rimmed glasses, stands on the stage in front of a microphone.

Harry heads to what he assumes could only be the bar. As if the rows of liquor bottles located behind a very well groomed young man hadn't been a clear enough indicator. His look, a stark contrast to the dwellers in the bar. A crisp white short sleeve button up, tucked into a pair of sharp black trousers, held in place with a black belt, silver buckle.

"What can I get you?"

Harry looks up at the bartender, then over to the bottles of liquor on the wall. A decent sized plank of driftwood sits snug in the center of the middle row of bottles. 'The Sick Rose' it read in a delicate, hand-painted cursive, the same red that dressed the walls.

He looks back over at the bartender who is watching him, waiting patiently for his answer.

"Whiskey, neat."

The bartender smiles before turning to grab the bottle of whiskey from the shelf behind him. He grabs a glass from under the bar top and place it in front of Harry before pouring.

Harry watches him intently, taking in every detail. From the way his brows furrow when the liquor splashes up against the side of the cup and onto the bar to the 'nectar of the gods' glisten of the liquid in the glass.

With a tight but genuine smile, the bartender pushes the glass towards him. Harry reaches into his pants and takes out a balled up fiver. He flattens it out on the bar top, a light, embarrassed chuckle leaves his lips before he hands it over, returning the smile with a curt nod.

Feedback bleeds momentarily over the sound of soft conversation drawing Harry's attention. He picks up his drink and turns his attention to the stage.

She's seated on a high stool, the woman on stage, and has a cigarette pressed between her middle and index fingers, the smoke cascading up to join the rest of the crowd's. In her other hand, an old, black and white school jotter with several coloured post-it notes sticking out of every side.

She gets off the stool and steps towards the mic, poised with her book open and resting on her forearm, against her chest. She speaks with candor. Her tone rhythmic, almost musical.

She pauses and the verse rings in Harry's ears. A dull ache pulses through his chest. The tips of his fingers tingle. There's an itch trickling up from under his skin that grows with every word, every pause, every breath.

This is what he'd been looking for. What he had come to New York for. To live and exist as the wordsmiths before him. In a dark dingy basement bar, last legs, glass of whiskey in hand, cigarette smoke clinging to every space. No more thicker than the voltaic energy that has the hair on his arms standing at attention. The baring of souls in stanza, in verse, in caesura, in rhyme. A chorus of pain and lust and life, oh to live a life like this. And now it was his.

He rubs his arm but knows that that isn't what will satiate his craving.

That the only cure lies within the keys of his typewriter and alabaster sheet of 8 ½ by 11.

Harry takes another generous sip of his drink with peeled ears and attentive heart. Hoping that the ability to write something, anything, would strike him like the lightning that had been streaking the sky that night.

He'd almost forgotten about her in the hurricane of poems and poets that swept on and off stage throughout the night. But when he sees her again, hours later, the initial rush of titillation he had felt returns like an unexpected punch to the gut.

He's three glasses of cheap whiskey deep, leaning against the small bar top. The crowd in the bar had gotten boisterous, rowdier, and now instead of poets baring their souls to the patrons, there's a louder than hell band on stage. He's sure they have no idea how to play their instruments but the magnanimity of their outrageous on stage antics made them entertaining enough to watch. The lead singer had broken a bottle over his head and made out with three different women on stage within the span of ten minutes and yet, once Harry had caught sight of the platinum stick of dynamite, he couldn't take his eyes off her.

She's seated in a worn leather booth at the far end of the room. And although there were copious amounts of intoxicated people standing between them, Harry had managed to maintain a clear and direct line of view.

The first thing he noticed was the smug smirk that never seemed to leave her lips. It was as if she was holding onto a secret that no one, not even herself, knew. The second was that she wasn't alone.

Next to her in the booth sat two people, a man, neck full of tattoos and decked out in leather. His dark, shoulder length hair looked as if it hadn't seen a wash in weeks but Harry could admit that the man was quite handsome, in a dangerous, "I'd steal your car" kind of way. The other, a woman, wild curly hair, tucked under a black beret. Her dark skin shown against the dim lighting in the bar and was a stark contrast to the bright red, latex dress she had on. The outfit was soaked in intimidation but the smile she had affixed on her face as she whispered to the object of Harry's full attention, was soft and genuine.

The blonde head of hair whipped around in Harry's direction and their eyes catch each other's.

In a movement too swift for him to register himself, he turns to face the bar, an embarrassing warmth making its way up his neck. He orders another drink even though he already has a full one in his hand. He throws it back, finishing it before the bartender could put the new one in front of him. Harry takes in a deep breath, trying to settle his nerves before turning back to catch one more glimpse of the blonde matchstick before calling it a night, but just like before she'd disappeared. In fact, the only person sitting there was her female friend, the male compatriot had disappeared as well.

Harry can't help but wonder. Had she gone out for a cigarette, or had she decided to take the brooding tattooed man back to hers. Maybe she'll be back. Maybe she wouldn't. Maybe she was still here.

He scans the room before his body propels him forward, a heart over head start of an active search, removing him from the bar and into the crowd on people. Popping up every now and then to see over the sea of heads.

When he finally does spot her again, she and neck tattoos are wedged in the narrow hallway leading to the restrooms. Their chests pressed together as they speak in hushed, harsh voices.

"Neck Tattoos" holds a small plastic bag above her head, a frown etched deeply in the curve of his brow and the edges of his lips. Harry watches as she attempts to grab the bag back from the man but fails, falling into him, her head turning and immediate locking eyes with Harry's curiously impeding stare. Her eyebrows furrow and her lips pucker. Her gaze is intense, hard but it sends a neon jolt of electricity through Harry's body.

She looks away, pushing herself away from "Neck Tattoos'" chest, as she makes another attempt to grab the baggy from him by propping herself up onto her toes. His large tattooed hand wraps itself around her wrist tightly and her eyebrows furrow in pain as he leans closer to her. Harry's body jerks forward as her eyes drift back over to his. His legs move to carry him closer but halts momentarily to size up the situation.

He'd always been someone who thought about actions and their consequences before making rash decisions. Logical and reliable were words that could be said to be synonymous with Harry Styles.

Heck! The most impulsive thing he'd ever done was what had brought him into this very situation. He didn't think a bar fight would be in the cards for him, ever. But he figures there's a first time for everything.

Harry makes his way over to them as quickly as he can, bobbing and weaving through the crowd, trying to keep an eye on the situation all the while trying to figure out how he was going to incapacitate "Neck Tattoos", who looked to be about a whole head taller than him.

The crowd seems to be fighting against him, trying to keep him away but he fights against it anyway. In that moment, Harry likens himself to salmon swimming upstream in the frigid autumn waters. A dangerous journey but to give up would go against their nature. Fight, however, was not in his nature but he thought himself fiercely passionate and empathetic which could be the same, he thinks. Harry finally breaks through the crowd and is within spitting distance of the two just as the snowy haired firecracker winds up and socks "Neck Tattoos" square in the nose.

Harry's eyes widen as "Neck Tattoos" falls, landing at his feet. He stares at the man on the floor before trailing his sights up to the woman who'd mystified him the short time they had been aware of the other's existence.

Her hand whips up and down as if shaking it will rid it of the throbbing that had begun to consume the limb. She bends down over "Neck Tattoos", retrieving the reason for the abruptly violent situation that oddly enough, no one else in the small bar acknowledged. She pats him on the shoulder comfortingly, her smirk returning to its place between her lips.

"Probably should get that checked out John. Broken nose wouldn't do that pretty face any favours."

Her words are firm but underneath it, there was a hint of something that told Harry that she actually was friends with "Neck Tattoos". That she cared about him, although her actions seemed to say otherwise.

She stands, and in the process notices one of her bruised knuckles bleeding. She brings it to her mouth, and it's all Harry can stare at, eyes still as wide as a deer in headlights.

Her icy blue orbs move up from the floor to Harry's face and he melts.

"Thanks for all the help man."

Her blood stained lips spit the sarcastic benediction with the prick of a sharp dagger.

Harry blinks. He opens his mouth and finds it hard to form words with the amount of indescribable feelings rushing through his blood stream, or maybe it was just the alcohol.

She sighs, rolling her eyes, and pushes past him, stepping over "Neck Tattoos", to a door adjacent to them. Harry twists his head to follow her, in a daze. It isn't until a loud clang sounds, the door closing, that he snaps out of it.

The spinning in his head comes to a standstill but the bubbling in his veins is far from subsiding.

His body is moving towards the door before his head can even fathom it. The pull is so magnetic. It's as if his soul had left his body and is pulling him along by hand, it's celestial.

He moves quickly, almost a blur, as he jogs out of the bar and into a dark lit alley. The rain had stopped and had left behind tiny reflective orbs of liquid on every surface that sparkled even in the darkness. He spins to his left, then his right in search of a halo of bleached tresses but comes up short.

A weight lands on his chest and trickles down to the pit of his stomach.

Regret, maybe. Nausea, definitely.

Should've said something.

He spins on the heels of his now drenched loafers with the intention of heading back inside to grab one more drink and quell his overstimulated mind and heart. He reaches for the large metal handle, when something catches his eye. A spark, several. Flickering and flashing to an off kilter beat. Small but bright in the darkness of the alley.

He closes his eyes and takes in a breath before letting go of the door handle. He takes a step away from the door, relieving his filled lungs with an aggressive puff. He's already been reckless thus far tonight, what's one more ill informed decision.

He opens his eyes and takes a few cautious steps towards the continuous tiny combustion. Slowly, hands curled in tight fists in case something or someone jumped out at him. In case he met one of those colossal rodents that New York was so famous for.

When he gets closer and his eyes adjust to the low light, he sees her. Leaning up against the grimy, graffiti filled, brick wall of the bar, cigarette between her lips, lighter in her bruised hand, pint glass filled with beer in the other. A brisk breeze flows through the wind tunnel alley way as she struggles with the lighter. A slick curse passes her lips every time the lighter goes out without lighting the cigarette.

Harry walks up to her, still cautious but fists unclenched.

"Need help?"

Harry chokes out the words but it's enough to cause her eyes to flick up, landing on the smile he struggles to keep soft. He doesn't wait for an answer, instead he steps forwards, cupping his hands around the lighter when she tries to flick it again. This time, the cigarette lights and she breathes out an audible sigh that dances around the smoke as it leaves her lips and Harry finally finds his voice.

"Y'alright?"

His eyes trace the lines of her face that are faintly illuminated by the end of her cigarette. Her soft lines a stark contrast to her hard glare. The corner of her lips fixed in a subtle scowl.

"Could be better."

Harry nods. He racks his brain for something to say. Anything to hold her attention for just a little while. Anything to keep this energy, au courant, from fizzling out.

If words came easier to him he wouldn't be in this alley. He'd be back in Holmes Chapel, in his makeshift cave of books and trinkets and old wood. With candles that smelt of Christmas and full body warmth, and his family would be just a quick jaunt away.

"You like poetry?"

Idiot.

He mentally curses his inability to come up with something less benign but stops when she lets out a loud, choking laugh. Her head tossed back in sweet amusement.

"Do I like poetry?"

She forces out through her chuckles.

"Is that a line?"

Her eyebrow peaks as she takes another drag of her cigarette then blows the smoke in Harry's direction. He blinks rapidly, the smoke causing his eyes to gloss over.

"You don't have to try so hard. If you wanted to take me home then all you had to do is ask. You're pretty and honestly I'm not picky."

Harry's eyes widen as he shakes his head, his eyes darting to a piece of soaked garbage on the cement, a candy wrapper.

Never had he met a woman so forward, so unapologetically crass and yet, still so enthralling.

"S'not what I want," he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. His front teeth press down so heavily he thinks he might've drawn blood.

"Really?"

She flicks the ash of her cigarette and brings it back up to her lips. A crooked smile cause the smoke to exit her mouth from the side rather than in Harry's face. He nods, it's subtle, but she acknowledges his answer.

"Doesn't seem like it. You've been watching me all night and when people do that it usually means one of two things. One, you want to fuck them or two," she take another drag, "you're a perverted stalker."

Harry's attention snaps back at her.

"M'not a stalker."

She steps closer to him, her body flush with his.

"I believe you," her voice is soft as her hand runs down Harry's shirt collar, fingers hovering just above where his exposed skin starts and not stopping its descent, "and that's sad because I'm sure we would've had a good time. Never done it with one of the Queen's sons before. Guess I won't be crossing that off my bucket list tonight."

She steps away from him and flicks her cigarette. It hits the wall causing the cherry to burst and glowing ash to trickle down like fireworks on the fourth of July. She walks past him towards the door but pauses before opening it. Looking over her shoulder at him, she shakes her head and laughs before disappearing into the building.

Harry stands alone in the alley. His body quivers with shock, with fear, with sheer excitement.

His heart was beating in his ears. His head, a spinny, dizzying top, unrelenting in its momentum.

He attempts to steady his breathing as he leaves the alley, stepping onto the sidewalk. The streets no longer bare as the patrons of bars and clubs alike pour out, where they'd follow the call of the rest of their night. An after party here, a quick, regrettable in the morning fuck there.

Harry bobs and weaves through people, still high off of the sheer aura of the woman. Missing a step and nearly eating shit as he descends down the stairs into Canal Street station.

He dawdles through the station, stopping to take a look at some of the musings of urban philosophers in permanent marker on the walls. Declarations of love and lust, names of places and people, numbers if you're in need of a good time.

"I'm sure we would've had a good time."

He checks his pockets for his wallet or some change when he gets to the pay toll but comes up short. He throws his head back and sends a curse out to the universe.

A chime sounds and Harry double times his pace, looking left and right before hopping over the turnstile. All but flying down the steps, he glides into the train just as the doors begin to close, narrowly missing his torso.

He catches his breath as he looks around the near empty train car for a seat. An elderly woman with a small buggy filled to the brim with groceries offers him a soft smile to which he returns as her makes his way to the far end of the car.

He takes a seat, his back to the window. He clasps his hands together as the train enters the tunnel. His body shakes and rumbles with the movements of the vehicle as a loud, low whistle fills the space around him.

He leans back, resting his head against the glass with eyes closed. Words bloom behind his eyelids like spring flowers but refusing to link together like a daisy chain to create anything worth writing down. His lips part as a heavy sigh floats past them. The train comes to a halt as his eyes open with the door.

His eyes shift to the doors as the elderly woman makes her way slowly off the train.

She passes and when she's clear of his line of view, a glimmer of pale blonde catches his eye.

A few blinks and a double take help clear his vision.

There she is. Sitting at the other end of the train, head bobbing back and forth to the tempo of whatever tune is floating through the headphones that are snug around her ears. A bright red portable cassette player rests on her lap, legs clad in houndstooth.

Although she was quite a distance away from him, he could see her now. Really see her. Her hair glows in the fluorescent subway lights and Harry is like a moth to a flame.

When she stands to get off the train, he does as well. Stepping out of the train a few doors down from her. On the wall, in mosaic tile is the name of the station, his stop. He heads towards the stairs, staggering his pace to stay a few feet behind her.

She walks with purpose, with power. A strut that says stay the fuck out of my way.

When they make all the same turns Harry chalks it up to more than coincidence.

Divine intervention maybe? Not likely.

As they both close in on the hotel, Harry decides that he's going to say something. But when she stops abruptly in her tracks, it throws him for a loop. His legs, not quite registering what was happening, continue to bring him forward and closer to her than he'd planned. She spins around quickly, her eyes landing directly on his as he stops a few steps away from her.

"Are you following me?"

She points a sharply manicured finger at him. Harry steps back, shaking his head. He holds up his hands in surrender.

"M'not. I swear, it's just a-"

"Pervy stalker," a sing-song lilt carries the accusation from her mouth to Harry's ears.

Harry's eyebrows furrow.

"I live here?" It's a question more than a statement. He points to the building.

"You sure? You don't seem so sure."

Harry clears his throat as his hands fall to his sides.

"I do, I live here."

She raises an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Where's your key?"

Harry sighs, defeated.

"Was in my wallet, but I lost it."

"Your key?"

"My wallet."

She hums, nodding slowly. Her eyes narrow as she leans forward. She steps back and turns on her heel.

"Sucks."

She approaches the front door of the hotel, putting her key in the lock. She pulls it open with brute force before looking over at Harry, who's standing in the middle of the sidewalk, alone.

"Well are you coming or what?"

He nods quickly as he breaks into a light jog. Slipping past her through the door she'd holding open with her back.

As they begin their ascent up the main square spiral staircase Harry can't help but let his mind wander. Questions bounce around his mind and on to his tongue like a diving board. A deep dive, cannonball wave pool displaces his quietness.

"What's your name?"

It's soft but she hears him.

"Noise."

Her voice echoes off the walls, stinging like a sour note.

"Noise? Your parents couldn't have possibly-"

"They didn't," she cuts him off with an over shoulder smirk so devious Harry could swear for a split second he'd seen the devil himself. Afraid to ask anymore questions he stays quiet.

They reach the 4th floor and she stops, turning around the face him.

"This is me," she points to a bright teal door, the number 412 affixed to the center in bold brass.

Harry nods.

"Where're you headed?" She asks.

"512," his answer is curt as he keeps his eyes on the ground.

"Not sure how you're gonna get in without a key. You might just have to sleep in the hallway until maintenance comes in the next few hours."

Harry groans but nods, wishing her a goodnight, frustrated that he wouldn't he able to sleep in his own bed tonight.

He turns and begins to continue up the stairs.

"Hey 512," Noise calls out. Harry stops mid step and turns around to a mound of black leather being tossed in his direction. He fumbles when it hits his chest but catches it, his wallet.

"Welcome to New York."

Harry watches as she slides through her front door. His eyes narrow but the corner of his mouth lifts as he jogs the rest of the way to his apartment.

[anonymousewrites]

Logos and Pathos AOS Edition

AOS! Spock x Empath! Reader AOS Edition:

Chapter One: Before the Academy

Chapter Two: In the Academy

Chapter Three: After the Academy

Chapter Four: Ship in Distress

Chapter Five: Planet in Distress

Chapter Six: Officers in Distress

Chapter Seven: Aboard the Enterprise

Chapter Eight: Aboard the Narada

Chapter Nine: Getting Advice

Chapter Ten: Volcanic Arguments

Chapter Eleven: Volcanic Attacks

Chapter Twelve: Manhunt Mission

Chapter Thirteen: Immoral Mission

Chapter Fourteen: True Mission

Chapter Fifteen: Hidden Motivations

Chapter Sixteen: Hidden Intentions

Chapter Seventeen: Hidden Plans

Chapter Eighteen: Broken Promise

Chapter Nineteen: Fulfilled Promise

Chapter Twenty: Arrival in Yorktown

Chapter Twenty-One: Departure from Yorktown

Chapter Twenty-Two: Spock on Altamid

Chapter Twenty-Three: (Y/N) on Altamid

Chapter Twenty-Four: Making a Plan

Chapter Twenty-Five: Executing the Plan

Chapter Twenty-Six: Adapting the Plan

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Bond of Love

[anonymousewrites]

Logos and Pathos Book 1

TOS! Spock x Empath! Reader

Book 1:

Prologue: Welcome Aboard the Enterprise

Chapter One: Teenager on Board

Chapter Two: Teenager Causing Mayhem

Chapter Three: Teenager Must Be Stopped

Chapter Four: ESP Infecting

Chapter Five: ESP Commandeering

Chapter Six: ESP Exhausting

Chapter Seven: Distracting Beauties

Chapter Eight: Endangered Beauties

Chapter Nine: Above the Asylum

Chapter Ten: In the Asylum

Chapter Eleven: Out of the Asylum

Chapter Twelve: Galileo Eight Crash

Chapter Thirteen: Galileo Eight Stranded

Chapter Fourteen: Galileo Eight Surviving

Chapter Fifteen: Inhibitions Distorted

Chapter Sixteen: Inhibitions Decayed

Chapter Seventeen: Khan's Rescue

Chapter Eighteen: Khan's Dinner

Chapter Nineteen: Khan's Defeat

Chapter Twenty: Content Paradise

Chapter Twenty-One: Complacent Paradise

Chapter Twenty-Two: Creatures on Deneva

Chapter Twenty-Three: Creatures to Beat

[anonymousewrites]

Logos and Pathos Book 3

TOS! Spock x Empath! Reader Book 3:

Chapter One: Sublime Sight

Chapter Two: Maddening Sight

Chapter Three: Clouded Sight

Chapter Four: Missing Brain

Chapter Five: Controlling Brain

Chapter Six: Returned Brain

Chapter Seven: Isolated Darkness

Chapter Eight: Silent Darkness

Chapter Nine: Healing Darkness

Chapter Ten: Freezing Past

Chapter Eleven: Caging Past

Chapter Twelve: Anger Beginning

Chapter Thirteen: Anger Growing

Chapter Fourteen: Anger Destroying

Chapter Fifteen: Disrupted Clouds

Chapter Sixteen: Loving Clouds

Chapter Seventeen: Violent Clouds

Chapter Eighteen: Quarreling Clouds

Chapter Nineteen: Arrogant Lord

Chapter Twenty: Temperamental Lord

Chapter Twenty-One: Romulan Zone

Chapter Twenty-Two: Romulan Commander

Chapter Twenty-Three: Romulan Device

Chapter Twenty-Four: Controlling Psychics

Chapter Twenty-Five: Scheming Psychics

Chapter Twenty-Six: Manipulative Psychics

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Festival of Friends

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Festival of Enemies

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Festival of Psychics

Chapter Thirty: Festival of Empaths

Chapter Thirty-One: Bond of Love

[anonymousewrites]

Logos and Pathos Book 2

TOS! Spock x Empath! Reader Book 2:

Chapter One: Androids Kidnapping

Chapter Two: Androids Disobeying

Chapter Three: Androids Short-Circuiting

Chapter Four: Ancient Aliens

Chapter Five: Scientific Aliens

Chapter Six: Body-Switching Aliens

Chapter Seven: Parallel Universe

Chapter Eight: Parallel People

Chapter Nine: Parallel Emotions

Chapter Ten: Trouble with Bureaucrats

Chapter Eleven: Trouble with Klingons

Chapter Twelve: Trouble with Spies

Chapter Thirteen: Fog of Memory

Chapter Fourteen: Fog of Emotion

Chapter Fifteen: Fog of Facts

Chapter Sixteen: Fog of Fear

Chapter Seventeen: Uptight Ambassadors

Chapter Eighteen: Sick Ambassadors

Chapter Nineteen: Endangered Ambassadors

Chapter Twenty: Planet Exploration

Chapter Twenty-One: Planet Worshipping

Chapter Twenty-Two: Planet Freed

Chapter Twenty-Three: Spock's Illness

Chapter Twenty-Four: Spock's Dream

Chapter Twenty-Five: Spock's Heart

Chapter Twenty-Six: Emotions Sensed

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Emotions Suppressed

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Emotions Revealed

[anonymousewrites]

Logos and Pathos Specials

Christmas Specials: 2022, 2023

Valentine's Day Specials: 2023, 2024, 2025

Pride Specials: 2023, 2024

Halloween Specials: 2023, 2024

Hannukah Specials: 2024

[anonymousewrites]

Logos and Pathos Book 4

TOS! Spock x Empath! Reader Book 4:

Chapter One: Emergency Request

Chapter Two: Probe Request

Chapter Three: Intruder Request

Chapter Four: Childlike Machine

Chapter Five: Voyaging Machine

Chapter Six: Emotional Test

Chapter Seven: Cruising Test

Chapter Eight: Old Test

Chapter Nine: Risky Experiment

Chapter Ten: Genesis Experiment

Chapter Eleven: Emotional Experiment

Chapter Twelve: Unbearable Loss

Chapter Thirteen: Spiritual Loss

Chapter Fourteen: Ship Loss

Chapter Fifteen: Reversing Loss

Chapter Sixteen: Facing Consequences

Chapter Seventeen: Facing the Past

Chapter Eighteen: Facing San Francisco

Chapter Nineteen: Whale Tank

Chapter Twenty: Whale Rescue

Chapter Twenty-One: Whale Song

Chapter Twenty-Two: Whale Savior

Chapter Twenty-Three: Family Camping

Chapter Twenty-Four: Family Past

Chapter Twenty-Five: Family Problem

Chapter Twenty-Six: Prisoner's Dilemma

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Psychic Dilemma

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Godly Dilemma

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Resolved Dilemma

Chapter Thirty: Question of Klingons

Chapter Thirty-One: Question of Peace

Chapter Thirty-Two: Question of Torpedoes

Chapter Thirty-Three: Damning Trial

Chapter Thirty-Four: Damning Evidence

Chapter Thirty-Five: Damning Proof

Chapter Thirty-Six: Damning Peace

Epilogue: Space, the Final Frontier

[anonymousewrites]

Check my profile/masterlist for Logos and Pathos, the whole series is there <3

Writing the Amok Time episode for my Spock x Reader is a lot of fun because I get to spend over a thousand words per chapter just being like "Spock want to kiss MC. Spock is horny for MC. Spock is in love with MC." And I think that's beautiful

[anonymousewrites]

Logos and Pathos

Spock x Non-binary! Empath! Reader

Book 1:

Follows the events of Season One

Prologue: Welcome Aboard the Enterprise

Chapter One: Teenager on Board

Chapter Two: Teenager Causing Mayhem

Chapter Three: Teenager Must Be Stopped

Chapter Four: ESP Infecting

Chapter Five: ESP Commandeering

Chapter Six: ESP Exhausting

Chapter Seven: Distracting Beauties

Chapter Eight: Endangered Beauties

Chapter Nine: Above the Asylum

Chapter Ten: In the Asylum

Chapter Eleven: Out of the Asylum

Chapter Twelve: Galileo Eight Crash

Chapter Thirteen: Galileo Eight Stranded

Chapter Fourteen: Galileo Eight Surviving

Chapter Fifteen: Inhibitions Distorted

Chapter Sixteen: Inhibitions Decayed

Chapter Seventeen: Khan's Rescue

Chapter Eighteen: Khan's Dinner

Chapter Nineteen: Khan's Defeat

Chapter Twenty: Content Paradise

Chapter Twenty-One: Complacent Paradise

Chapter Twenty-Two: Creatures on Deneva

Chapter Twenty-Three: Creatures to Beat

Book 2:

Follows the events of Season Two

Chapter One: Androids Kidnapping

Chapter Two: Androids Disobeying

Chapter Three: Androids Short-Circuiting

Chapter Four: Ancient Aliens

Chapter Five: Scientific Aliens

Chapter Six: Body-Switching Aliens

Chapter Seven: Parallel Universe

Chapter Eight: Parallel People

Chapter Nine: Parallel Emotions

Chapter Ten: Trouble with Bureaucrats

Chapter Eleven: Trouble with Klingons

Chapter Twelve: Trouble with Spies

Chapter Thirteen: Fog of Memory

Chapter Fourteen: Fog of Emotion

Chapter Fifteen: Fog of Facts

Chapter Sixteen: Fog of Fear

Chapter Seventeen: Uptight Ambassadors

Chapter Eighteen: Sick Ambassadors

Chapter Nineteen: Endangered Ambassadors

Chapter Twenty: Planet Exploration

Chapter Twenty-One: Planet Worshipping

Chapter Twenty-Two: Planet Freed

Chapter Twenty-Three: Spock's Illness

Chapter Twenty-Four: Spock's Dream

Chapter Twenty-Five: Spock's Heart

Chapter Twenty-Six: Emotions Sensed

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Emotions Suppressed

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Emotions Revealed

Book 3:

Follows the events of Season Three

Chapter One: Sublime Sight

Chapter Two: Maddening Sight

Chapter Three: Clouded Sight

Chapter Four: Missing Brain

Chapter Five: Controlling Brain

Chapter Six: Returned Brain

Chapter Seven: Isolated Darkness

Chapter Eight: Silent Darkness

Chapter Nine: Healing Darkness

Chapter Ten: Freezing Past

Chapter Eleven: Caging Past

Chapter Twelve: Anger Beginning

Chapter Thirteen: Anger Growing

Chapter Fourteen: Anger Destroying

Chapter Fifteen: Disrupted Clouds

Chapter Sixteen: Loving Clouds

Chapter Seventeen: Violent Clouds

Chapter Eighteen: Quarreling Clouds

Chapter Nineteen: Arrogant Lord

Chapter Twenty: Temperamental Lord

Chapter Twenty-One: Romulan Zone

Chapter Twenty-Two: Romulan Commander

Chapter Twenty-Three: Romulan Device

Chapter Twenty-Four: Controlling Psychics

Chapter Twenty-Five: Scheming Psychics

Chapter Twenty-Six: Manipulative Psychics

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Festival of Friends

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Festival of Enemies

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Festival of Psychics

Chapter Thirty: Festival of Empaths

Chapter Thirty-One: Bond of Love

AOS Edition:

Follows the events of Star Trek (2009), Star Trek: Into Darkness, and Star Trek: Beyond

Chapter One: Before the Academy

Chapter Two: In the Academy

Chapter Three: After the Academy

Chapter Four: Ship in Distress

Chapter Five: Planet in Distress

Chapter Six: Officers in Distress

Chapter Seven: Aboard the Enterprise

Chapter Eight: Aboard the Narada

Chapter Nine: Getting Advice

Chapter Ten: Volcanic Arguments

To be continued...

Specials:

Christmas Specials: 2022, 2023

Valentine's Day Specials: 2023, 2024

Pride Specials: 2023, 2024

Halloween Specials: 2023

Taglist:

@a-ofzest

@grippleback-galaxy

@genderfluid-anime-goth

@groovy-lady

@im-making-an-effort

@unending-screaming

@h-l-vlovesvintage

@neenieweenie

@keylimeconstellation

@wormwig

@technikerin23

@ilyatan

@nthdarkqueen

@kyalov

@starlit-cass

[anonymousewrites]

Masterlist

Masterlist

To view on quotev: Anonymouse

Character Spreadsheet: Here

There’s a Will; There’s a Way

Bungou Stray Dogs

Dazai Osamu x Fem! Reader

Chuuya Nakahara x Original Female Character

Of Two Worlds

Jujutsu Kaisen

Fushiguro Megumi x Fem! Half-Curse! Reader

Ryomen Sukuna x Original Female Character x Uraume

Complete

Portal to My Heart

Marvel Cinematic Universe/LOKI Tv Show

Loki Odinson/Laufeyson x Fem! Reader

Complete

Adolescent Antichrist

Netflix Lucifer

Father figure! Lucifer x Non-binary! Reader

Original Character x Non-binary! Reader

Complete

Logos and Pathos

Star Trek: The Original Series

Star Trek: Alternate Original Series

Spock x Non-binary! Empath! Reader

A Study of the Heart and Brain

BBC Sherlock

Father figure! Sherlock x Non-binary! Reader

Complete

A Good Day for Death

Netflix Wednesday

Wednesday Addams x Non-binary! Reader

Clan of Three

Star Wars The Mandalorian

Father Figure! Mandalorian x Non-binary! Reader

One Hell of a Love

Black Butler

Sebastian Michaelis x Non-binary! Demon! Reader

Nature of the Human Soul

Hazbin Hotel

Platonic! Hazbin Hotel x Teen! Non-binary! Reader

Platonic! Alastor x Teen! Non-binary! Reader

Burden of Truth

Marvel Cinematic Universe/Moon Knight Series

Father Figure! Marc Spector x Teen! Non-binary! Reader

Father Figure! Steven Grant x Teen! Non-binary! Reader

Mother Figure! Layla El-Faouly x Teen! Non-binary! Reader

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance

Saiki No Psi San/The Disastrous Life of Saiki K Series

Saiki Kusuo x Non-binary! Reader

Complete

Pearl of the Sea

Pirates of the Caribbean (Curse of the Black Pearl, Dead Man's Chest, At World's End)

Found Family! PoTC Cast x Teen! Non-binary! Reader

Complete

Apple of My Eye

Disney Descendants (1, 2, and 3)

Harry Hook x Non-binary! Child of Snow White! Reader

Complete

Lavender for Royalty; Sage for Wisdom

Ouran High School Host Club (Manga)

Kyoya Ootori x Non-binary! Reader

Nobody's Soldier

Supernatural (Seasons 4-15)

Found Family! Supernatural x Non-binary! Reader

Dean Winchester x Castiel (Slow Burn)

Eventual! Jack Kline x Reader

[anonymousewrites]

Character Masterlist

No spoilers, only has what is available at the beginning of each series or doesn't interfere with plot

Main Characters:

There's a Will; There's a Way (Bungou Stray Dogs):

MC: "Green:"

Pronouns: She/her

Ability: There’s a Will; There’s a Way (Ability to move/manipulate objects she can see, has to move her hands the way she wants the object to move)

Usual Outfit: Black skirt, long-sleeved white shirt, green sweater vest overtop, knee-high white socks, black maryjanes

Part of Armed Detective Agency

Love Interest: Dazai

Of Two Worlds (Jujutsu Kaisen):

MC: "Silver"

Pronouns: She/her

Cursed Technique: Lunar Cycle

Has crescent-shaped curse marks on her wrists

Uniform: Black pants, black t-shirt underneath cropped jacket, combat boots

Half-Curse, so has strengthened physical abilities

Love Interest: Megumi

Adolescent Antichrist (Netflix Lucifer):

MC: "Red"

Pronouns: They/them

Usual Outfit: None, changes quite a bit

Anxious

Love Interest: Emeranne

Portal to My Heart (MCU/LOKI TV Show):

MC: "Blue"

Pronouns: She/her

Usual Outfit: Changes

Abilities: Portal-making, energy-resistant, has occasional visions

Hacker

Love Interest: Loki

Logos and Pathos (Stark Trek: The Original Series):

MC: "Gold"

Pronouns: They/them

Usual Outfit: Yellow officer uniform

Abilities: Empath

Gold eyes because Celian (non-human)

Negotiations and Communications specialist

Love Interest: Spock

A Study of the Heart and Brain (BBC Sherlock):

MC: "Purple"

Pronouns: They/them

Usual Outfit: Light grey undershirt, purple sweater, black shoes, dark grey trousers

Abilities: Deduction

Always has lollipops

Love Interest: Currently none

A Good Day for Death (Netflix Wednesday):

MC: "Ebony"

Pronouns: They/Them

Usual Outfit: Black and grey pleated skirt, white button-down, black formal buttoned sweater-vest, black oxfords, black tights with roses and thorns, skull earrings, bone ring

Abilities: Drains energy from living things around them

Child of the God of Death, Thanatos, and a human mortician

Love Interest: Wednesday Addams

Clan of Three (The Mandalorian)

MC: "Ginger”

Pronouns: They/Them

Usual Outfit: Dark burnt orange long-sleeved shirt that wraps and ties in the front with a hood, brown pants, brown boots

Burnt orange markings around their eyes because they are Ushti

Abilities: Force sensitive

Carries a dagger at all times

Love Interest: None

One Hell of a Love (Black Butler)

MC: "Felis"

Pronouns: They/Them

Usual Outfit: Maid outfit, long black dress with high collar and long sleeves, white apron overtop, black kitten heels, white gloves to hide contract seal

Irises of the eyes are catlike

Abilities: All demonic abilities

Love Interest: Sebastian Michaelis

Nature of the Human Soul (Hazbin Hotel)

MC: "Briar"

Pronouns: They/Them

Usual Outfit: Black vest overtop red button-down top and skirt, black boots

Hair is made of roses

Abilities: Manipulates plants

Love Interest: None

Burden of Truth (MCU Moon Knight)

MC: "Azure"

Pronouns: They/Them

Usual Outfit: Black pants, white shirt, blue hoodie

Avatar of Ma'at

Abilities: Understands all languages, lockpicking, acrobatics

Cannot tell a lie

Can sense when people are lying or telling the truth

Love Interest: None

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (The Disastrous Life of Saiki K)

MC: "Pink"

Pronouns: They/them

Usual Outfit: PK Academy uniform

Wears Geranium earrings so Saiki can't hear thoughts

Love Interest: Kusuo Saiki

Pearl of the Sea (Pirates of the Caribbean)

MC: “Pearl”

Pronouns: They/them

Usual Outfit: Loose pants, white shirt, sash of blue, sword

Love Interest: None

Apple of My Eye (Disney Descendants)

MC: “Ivory”

Pronouns: They/them

Usual Outfit: None, changes frequently

Child of Snow White

Love Interest: Harry Hook

Lavender for Royalty; Sage for Wisdom (Ouran High School Host Club)

MC: “Sage”

Pronouns: They/them

Usual Outfit: Ouran male uniform

Scholarship student, second-year

Love Interest: Kyoya Ootori

Nobody's Soldier (Supernatural)

MC: "Indigo"

Pronouns: They/them

Usual Outfit: Varies

Hunter

Love Interest: Jack Kline

Original Characters:

There's a Will; There's a Way (Bungou Stray Dogs):

Akira Mori:

Pronouns: She/her

Ability: Hell Hath No Fury (Super strength/speed facilitated by transformation into demon-like qualities such as claws, pure black eyes, sharp teeth, horns. Can do just partial transformation to remain more controlled)

Appearance: Red eyes, mid-back black hair in a braid, resembles her father

Usual Outfit: Black slacks, red button-up, boots

Not affiliated with any organization, informant, bar owner

Love Interest: Chuuya

Kanna:

Pronouns: She/her

Ability: Love of Roses and Wrath of Thorns (she can manipulate plants)

Appearance: Pink afro, brow eyes, tall

Usual Outfit: Long white dress with pink and blue flowers, short white heels

Deceased, was (Y/N)’s teacher

Love Interest: Sora

Sora:

Pronouns: They/them

Ability: None

Appearance: Short, messy blue-black hair, blue eyes

Usual Outfit: Button-up, large blue cardigan or sweater vest, slacks, black shoes

Deceased

Love Interest: Kanna

Nanako Mori:

Pronouns: She/her

Ability: Be Not Afraid (Able to take on angelic qualities like wings and a halo)

Appearance: long black hair kept in bun, gold eyes

Usual Outfit: Long white coat, black banks, black boots, white turtleneck

Deceased

Love Interest: Mori

Of Two Worlds (Jujutsu Kaisen):

Miku:

Pronouns: She/her

Cursed Technique: Tempest

Appearance: Curly grey hair, blue eyes, scar over one eye

Usual Outfit: Dark grey pants with lightning painted on, dark short-sleeved cropped blue-button-up, black boots

Ren:

Pronouns: She/her

Cursed Technique: Mastermind

Appearance: Long red hair, green eyes

Usual Outfit: Long white kimono, black sash around the middle and trim, black flowers

Lived in the Heian Era with Sukuna and Uraume

Love Interests: Sukuna and Uraume

Adolescent Antichrist (Netflix Lucifer):

Emeranne: (Picture is when older)

Pronouns: She/they

Appearance: Blue eyes, short, messy red hair, freckles

Demon

Usual Outfit: None, changes quite a bit, grunge style

Lesbian

Love Interest: MC

Leon

Pronouns: He/they

Appearance: Tall, fit, dark skin, cropped hair, brown eyes

Asexual panromantic

Usual Outfit: None, changes quite a bit, academia style

Love Interest: Marcel

Marcel

Pronouns: He/him

Appearance: On the shorter side, hazel eyes, dyed purple hair

Ftm

Gay

Usual Outfit: None, changes quite a bit, alt/goth style

Love Interest: Leon

Olive

Pronouns: She/her

Appearance: Blue eyes, long blond hair

Lesbian

Usual Outfit: None, changes quite a bit, cottagecore/feminine style

Love Interest: Noa

Noa

Pronouns: They/them

Appearance: Tall, fit, brown hair, dark skin, keeps hair in box braids, changes color regularly

Bisexual

Usual Outfit: None, changes quite a bit, alternative style

Love Interest: Olive