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loganscroftersstash · 10 months

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Isn't That Us On That Poster?

hihi back at you with another logan centric fic bc. brainrot. i am so normal abt him and orange. teehee.

i purposefully left him unnamed for multiple reasons soooo yeah!!! i've had this idea since i saw this post by@volno-pesh. its been on my mind. literally since i first saw it. this is just inspired by that post a little bit (a lot. i did make a whole scene out of one of the pieces of art they made.. and used the lyric from the same song they did.. BUT YEAH) sooo feel free to go enjoy that art!! bc its so <333

Summary: Logan doesn't like his counterpart very much. Pairing: Logan & Orange Side (platonic) Word Count: 2042 Tags: Hurt/No Comfort, Logan-centric, angst :3

enjoy!! (crossposted on ao3!)

A fluke was all it was. Logan never lost control like that. He’s had outbursts before— poor puppet Roman bore the brunt of it, he hardly ever got so violent— but this? He’s never…

The moment lingers in his mind like the taste of iron in his mouth, replaying over and over again. Logan felt more like Anxiety than he did Logic, right now. What was Remus going to do with this? Was he going to do anything? Maybe he’d blackmail Logan, use the information to get him to do his dirty work or evil bidding, or maybe he wouldn’t do anything. There was no reason for what he did, he just did, after all. But the very thought that Remus had witnessed it made Logan’s stomach twist and turn.

As he watches Thomas rush out the door and trip over boxes, and gives one last look over to the mess of the apartment, he sinks out, defeated. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. This was his day. His day to help, to get through to Thomas and help him better achieve the best life he can possibly live. After all the hard work he’s done getting him organized, helping him and the others rationalize his intrusive thoughts— all the work that went into the very creation of the schedule itself! He’d done so much for so little and he was going to be demonized for getting upset with the fact that maybe, just maybe, he wanted a little recognition for once. Was it so much to ask for a thank you? If it was up to Patton it’d be mandated, if the Redux he was pulled from was any indication.

He rose back up in his room, feeling exhaustion slowly crawl up his spine and lay over him like a blanket made of lead. Logan knew he only had a minute or two to gather himself, collect his thoughts, and dry his eyes from the angry tears that threatened to spill over. He tossed his planner aside, for once uncaring of the way the pages landed sporadically on the bed and were sure to crease randomly, and took his glasses off. He set them on his dresser and pinched the bridge of his nose, moving his thumb and pointer finger up to rub at his temples as he let out a long sigh.

He was so tired...

Logan didn’t have time to be tired, though. He had a job and that was more important than his own exhaustion. He had to make sure that this little venture to the park was at least worth abandoning the entire day they’d planned out.

After a few long, arduous hours of watching, they’d finally been able to go home. Although the others were thrilled with not only the event but also the outcome, Logan just found himself feeling more bitter than he would’ve liked. He knew it was immature and a waste of time to hold a grudge… so he told himself not to.

Logan sank out, that same lead blanket weighing him down even more as he rises back up into his room. It holds him down as he trudges to his bathroom, flicking on the light and wincing at the usually welcome fluorescent lighting. He examines himself in the mirror, noting the slightly darker eye bags and the tousled hair, probably from him running his hands through it too much.

He takes off his glasses and sets them down, rubbing his eyes. He twists the cold tap on the sink and calmly watches as water flows from the faucet, hitting the white porcelain just loud enough to temporarily drown out his thoughts. He cups his hands beneath it and watches as they fill with water, before he leans down and splashes his face with it. The water makes him feel a little bit better, even if just for a moment. Logan repeats this twice more before he takes a towel, gently patting his face dry before he sets it down. He grabs his glasses and reframes them on his face, glancing up at his reflection once more before he flicks off the light. He closes the door to the bathroom and turns to face his bed again, only to be met with a figure clad in bright orange.

Logan jumps, his left hand bracing against the doorknob behind him and earning a chuckle from the other side. “Oh, Logan. Not expecting my visit?”

Logan glares at him. He’s still exhausted, even more so now after the date, but he couldn’t go to sleep with this… “What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing.” He grinned, baring his teeth in a way that only read as predatory to Logan. Like he’d tear him apart if he was given the very chance. “Just wanted to see you.”

An unlikely occurrence, Logan thinks. Either Janus didn’t care to show up or he was being truthful. “I’ll pretend that’s true. What is it that you really want?”

“To check in on you after what happened up there, silly!” He grinned, tilting his head as he spoke. “You put on quite a show… what a shame Thomas didn’t get to see the fireworks.”

Logan narrows his gaze. He’s doing his best to pick apart his words and dissect his mannerisms, but this bastard is too hard for him to read. If only he knew more about how or why he worked.. “It is not a shame. If Thomas had seen, that would create an even bigger rift between the two of us. I cannot create anymore metaphorical distance between us as he’s already having a hard time listening to me as it is. Furthermore, Thomas is already reeling from the revealing of Remus and Janus, you do not need to be added to the l—”

He burst out laughing, arms crossed over his chest as he did so. “Oh, Logan.” He murmured, shaking his head. “You’re positively adorable. You know that? You try so, so hard.” He rises from his spot on the other side’s bed, and Logan notes that the planner from earlier is still in ruin behind them, and crosses the room to stand directly in front of him. “And yet, you still fail time and time again?”

Logan hates how it gets to him. He knows that’s what he wants: to upset and get another rise out of him so he can take influence over him once more. Logan can’t let that happen. “I did not fail. Thomas redirected his attention to a task he deemed more important, and the other sides agreed. Our viewpoints did not align, but we still got some work accomplished today.”

“Oh, is that how you’d describe it?” He laughs, shaking his head. “Because personally, to me it looked more like Thomas tossing you to the side yet again, and you letting him.” He grinned, but there was no joy behind it. Amusement, more like. “Doesn’t that hurt, Logan? Make you angry?”

“You are trying to get a rise out of me; I am going to continue to ignore you.” Logan removed himself from between the orange clad side and the door, instead walking towards his dresser. “Sure, I wish the others would appreciate my work more, but that does not mean I get to stop working completely and take it out on them. Outbursts get me nowhere.”

“I disagree. But, to each their own,” The other hummed, leaning against the very door he’d just had Logan trapped by. “But… you wouldn’t have to keep having outbursts like this if you quit dealing with their bullshit.”

Logan sighs. This is typical. “Your crude words mean nothing.”

“Words, crude or not, mean everything, Logan. You of all sides should know that.” He smiled again, baring his teeth in a way that Logan just despises in the deepest pits of his stomach. “Unless they’re yours.”

Logan turns from his place at the dresser, cut off once more, “Don’t you get tired, Logan? They’ve stopped caring about you,” He begins to walk over, slowly. “When you started out in these silly little videos, you were so… expressive. You were much less of a prude, you actually had fun! You and padre played dress up together, you wore your onesie and didn’t have a care about it— you expressed yourself.” He approaches Logan in full, pushing his back against the dresser. “And then, a switch flipped at one point. Suddenly, you were all business! No feelings allowed! You stopped smiling, you stopped letting yourself feel joy or anything you considered to be a waste of time, but worst of all, Logan?” He leans down, directly in his face, “You became what they all wanted you to be: An empty, emotionless robot with no feelings, and no other purpose than to answer questions and calm fears when the moment arrived, and when your moment had passed, you could be disposed of.”

Hot, angry tears sting Logan‘s eyes, threatening to spill over. He glares at the now blur of orange in front of him, tempted to yell, scream, hit, punch, do whatever it took to get him and his painfully honest words out of his room. He thinks he can waltz in here and just insult him like this, in the one place he’s supposed to have safety, and destroy that for him as well? Logan knew deep down it was all to get him to react, to upset him and make him lash out again, but all that weighed right now on Logan’s mind was the painfully heavy fact that the other hadn’t lied.

“Get. Out.” Logan spits, fighting back the tears as best as he can.

“I don’t think I will.” The orange side grins back at him. “Admit it. You want to get angry. You want to make them all shut up and listen, don’t you? You want the order, the control, don’t you, Logan? You want to be listened to.”

“So what if I do?!” Logan shouts, near startling himself with the sudden outburst. Tears spill over and fall onto his cheeks, burning red from crying and the anger welling in his chest. “You’d feel just as bad as I do if everything you did that they didn’t deem necessary was discarded!”

“See? There it is,” The tone he used is patronizing, speaking to Logan as if he is some sort of little harmless animal. “You just have to say that! Talk all about how angry it makes you feel, or, alternatively, you take control back by force. I could help you with that, you know.”

Logan shoves him, steadying himself on the dresser as he straightens his posture. “No. I will most certainly not be doing that. I do not need you.”

Suddenly there’s a hand on his jaw and an arm around his waist, spinning him around and pulling him flush against the citrus colored side. “Oh, Logic, don’t be silly! Just look at us!” He forces his head in the direction of the mirror in front of the dresser, earning a glare from the other. The dark blue and bright orange go disgustingly well together, but that doesn’t make Logan anymore trusting. “Don’t we look wonderful together? Come on, now… you mustn’t think you can do this by yourself.” He releases his grip on the other’s jaw and spins him around, “Let me assist you. I know we’re foils but—”

“No.” Logan insists, reaching a hand up to wipe his damp cheeks. “I never have, nor will I ever, need your help. The only way you can assist me now is by getting the hell out of my room.”

“Alright. Alright. I see how it is.” He puts his hands up defensively, backing away slowly from the logical side. “But trust me, Logan. You’ll come crawling back, one way or another. That is a promise.”

The other sinks out, and Logan is momentarily ecstatic to be rid of the orange in his room entirely. He can finally breathe again, relax, as he chews over the words that were said and lingered in the forefront of his mind.

He turns to face the mirror, eyes once again gleaming with orange.

Logan hated the idea that maybe he was right.

#logic sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides #tss #orange side #ts orange #tss fanfic #fanfiction #thomas sanders

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