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loganscroftersstash · 1 year ago

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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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savagewildnerness · 2 months ago

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I was going to reply in a comment, but I thought it could be interesting to discuss QOTD amongst us all?

I found your post interesting, OP as I also prefer TVL to QOTD (though I prefer QOTD to IWTV... not hugely... just slightly.). I love all 3 books myself though. The order for me is probably, essentially because...

I enjoy a deep-dive character study most of all... which TVL is

I actually think QOTD is probably objectively the best written book. Individual chapters I find super powerful & they make me cry (particularly Baby Jenks and Devil's Minion... but also Khayman, My Khayman I find affecting) & I know some people hate it, but I also love how Anne uses Stan's poetry in this book - not only for the poetry itself, but for the feeling and meaning behind that.

I adore the end of IWTV (probably my favourite book ending after Memnoch. I LOVE DEPRESSING ENDINGS, OK!?!) and I love the poetic prose that I would say all 3 books share... but in the middle, Louis does get a bit WEARING for me... there comes a point where I'm almost ready to shred the book myself, teehee!

Anyway, I love Akasha's despotic plan and find it interesting as she has a point, but is absolutely, utterly morally wrong for so many reasons (not least, her own hypocrisy! But also... genocide is always wrong... as if it needed stating, haha!)

What surprises me is not that the vampires don't worry more about their own death in killing her, but that no other vampire at all agrees with her if I am honest. After all, in TVL, Gabrielle expresses not-so-dissimilar thoughts to Lestat...

""You know the creatures of the night are ripe for a great leader," she said. "Not some superstitious mumbler of old rites, but a great dark monarch who will galvanize us according to new principles."

"What principles?" I asked. Ignoring the question, she went on.

"Imagine," she said, "not merely this stealthy and loathsome feeding on mortals, but something grand as the Tower of Babel was grand before it was brought down by the wrath ofGod. I mean a leader set up in a Satanic palace who sends out his followers to turn brother against brother, to cause mothers to kill their children, to put all the fine accomplishments of mankind to the torch, to scorch the land itself so that all would die of hunger, innocent and guilty! Make suffering and chaos wherever you turn, and strike down the forces of good so that men despair. Now that is something worthy of being called evil. That is what the work of a devil really is. We are nothing, you and I, except exotica in the Savage Garden, as you told me. And the world of men is no more or less now than what I saw in my books in the Auvergne years ago."

I hated this conversation. And yet I was glad she was in the room with me, that I was speaking to somebody other than a poor deceived mortal. That I wasn't alone with my letters from home.

"But what about your aesthetic questions?" I asked. "What you explained to Armand before, that you wanted to know why beauty existed and why it continues to affect us?"

She shrugged.

"When the world of man collapses in ruin, beauty will take over. The trees shall grow again where there were streets; the flowers will again cover the meadow that is now a dank field of hovels. That shall be the purpose of the Satanic master, to see the wild grass and the dense forest cover up all trace of the once great cities until nothing remains."

"And why call all this Satanic?" I asked. "Why not call it chaos? That is all it would be."

"Because," she said, "that is what men would call it. They invented Satan, didn't they? Satanic is merely the name they give to the behavior of those who would disrupt the orderly way in which men want to live."

"I don't see it."

"Well, use your preternatural brain, my blue-eyed one," she answered, "my golden-haired son, my handsome wolfkiller. It is very possible that God made the world as Armand said."

"This is what you discovered in the forest? You were told this by the leaves?"

She laughed at me.

"Of course, God is not necessarily anthropomorphic," she said. "Or what we would call, in our colossal egotism and sentimentality, `a decent person.' But there is probably God. Satan, however, was man's invention, a name for the force that seeks to overthrow the civilized order of things. The first man who made laws -- be he Moses or some ancient Egyptian king Osiris -- that lawmaker created the devil. The devil meant the one who tempts you to break the laws. And we are truly Satanic in that we follow no law for man's protection. So why not truly disrupt? Why not make a blaze of evil to consume all the civilizations of the earth?"

I was too appalled to answer.

"Don't worry." She laughed. "I won't do it. But I wonder what will happen in the decades to come. Will not somebody do it?"

"I hope not!" I said. "Or let me put it this way. If one of us tries, then there shall be war."

"Why? Everyone will follow him."

"I will not. I will make the war."

"Oh, you are too amusing, Lestat," she said.

"It's petty," I said.

"Petty!" She had looked away, out into the courtyard, but she looked back and the color rose in her face. "To topple all the cities of the earth? I understood when you called the Theater of the Vampires petty, but now you are contradicting yourself."

"It is petty to destroy anything merely for the sake of the destroying, don't you think?"

"You're impossible," she said. "Sometime in the far future there may be such a leader. He will reduce man to the nakedness and fear from which he came. And we shall feed upon him effortlessly as we have always done, and the Savage Garden, as you call it, will cover the world."

"I almost hope someone does attempt it," I said. "Because I would rise up against him and do everything to defeat him. And possibly I could be saved, I could be good again in my own eyes, as I set out to save man from this."

I was very angry. I'd left my chair and walked out into the courtyard.

She came right behind me.

"You have just given the oldest argument in Christendom for the existence of evil," she said. "It exists so that we may fight it and do good."

"How dreary and stupid," I said.

"What I don't understand about you is this," she said. "You hold to your old belief in goodness with a tenacity that is virtually unshakable. Yet you are so good at being what you are! You hunt your victims like a dark angel. You kill ruthlessly. You feast all the night long on victims when you choose."

"So?" I looked at her coldly. "I don't know how to be bad at being bad."

She laughed.

"I was a good marksman when I was a young man," I said, "a good actor on the stage. And now I am a good vampire. So much for our understanding of the word `good."'

After she had gone, I lay on my back on the flagstones in the courtyard and looked up at the stars, thinking of all the paintings and the sculptures that I had seen merely in the single city of Florence. I knew that I hated places where there are only towering trees, and the softest and sweetest music to me was the sound of human voices. But what did it matter really what I thought or felt?"

It's clearly a foreshadowing of Akasha, right? In fact, Gabrielle’s imagining goes one step further, for it would do away with ALL humanity! (Not sure how you’d feed then, Gabrielle?) Although Gabrielle imagines it will be brought about by a man. But there isn't one second when Gabrielle appears to remember this or reflect on these earlier thoughts...? Not one moment when she considers what Akasha is doing might be right. Anyway, I suppose it is as Akasha has stolen and damaged Lestat that Gabrielle doesn't have to question things?

But to the OP I'd say that not everyone wants to kill Akasha entirely easily (well Lestat certainly it isn’t easy for) & I think they’ve also all lived so long that true cruelty would in any case be to put their continued existence above that of half (and who knows - in the end, perhaps ALL?) of humanity! And if they die, they all die so there’s a sense in which they don’t have to worry - they will not go on existing with just their loved ones dead.

I do think she is all-out-villain because it is compounded by what she did as a human to Maharet and Mekare and by the fact that even as a human, Akasha is shown to be utterly amoral... and yet we can see that Lestat (& Marius before him) are drawn to her as she is also always incredibly powerful, alluring, beautiful and intriguing... they are ultimately men whose egos and vanity are stroked by the idea of her - this most powerful being - loving them too... I'd argue... which allows them to fall into the trap of her. (Maybe this reinforces Akasha's POV in a way?)

But despite the fact that Anne Rice isn't great at writing empathisable women, often, haha... I do think there's still interesting debate within the whole nature of Akasha's plan. There are plenty of people reading the book even now I have seen who think she has a point... ignoring the mass genocide... or, maybe finding it worth it? I see Akasha as absolutely WRONG, but not everyone does. (We see you, Jacob Anderson, hehehehehe!)

I also would say that I would consider parts of QOTD to be Anne at her most gothic... Devil's Minion for example.

But I do agree that for me QOTD as a whole works less well than TVL. For me it's because you're not in Lestat's mind enough - you're flitting about here there and everywhere and even if separate bits are impactful, as a whole it doesn't come together as well for me. I therefore find the book most interesting when we are back in Lestat's mind towards the end of the book, when he is taken by Akasha... which again... you keep leaving. But I can see why he is drawn to her and the fact we have the entire foundation of who he is, for me, makes what Akasha does to him and the impact of that all the more impactful.

But yeah, I love being in Lestat's mind with the way he thinks and his general philosophies on existence the most too. That's just what it is. I could read a 50-book-series just focussing on that myself!

I would say that subsequent books are not like QOTD... but I would say that one of the most "gothic" aspects to at least the next few books is the way in which (underlying, often not explicitly spoken) what Akasha made Lestat into (in terms of who he now is, but even moreso in terms of what he did) really haunts Lestat in a way he cannot get over for a long time...

I would also say that while they're not like QOTD.... they're probably less gothic in the sense of TVL and IWTV than QOTD, in the main.... it's hard to quantify something like that. But obviously you have to consider that Lestat's philosophy and worldview we already know by this point, so books from his perspective can at best reiterate or explore it further - necessarily through other experiences, now not just from what he thinks and feels as could be the case for Lestat in TVL and for Louis in IWTV... and Lestat does occasionally lose that purity/intensity of knowing his stance he has in TVL as he questions in the future...

I mean, I'm rambling... and I could ramble more, but I have to go out now so I'll just... stop... in the middle here...!

Sorry for rambling probably a load of idiocy!

I just finished Qotd and i enjoyed it a lot less that the first two books. Iwtv and tvl read like gothic novels, not just in terms of the setting, but in terms of the characters and their interactions, in terms of philosophy.

Parts 3 and 4 of Qotd read like an Avengers movie. I liked the legend of the twins as a standalone story, but ultimately the whole arc left me feeling hollow and unsatisfied. What was the point of all that? The book never dwells on the destruction of nearly every vampire or on the hypocrisy of Akasha's past vs present actions (only on how wrong her current plan is). And what was the point of describing over and over how powerful Akasha is only for her to be so easily destroyed? There was no argument betwen the surviving vampires about whether or not they should join her. No character ever truly considered the thrilling question of "would I kill her if it meant death to me and all my loved ones?" and in the end the question itself turned out to be completely meaningless.

I remember Assad said that no one's a mustache twirling villain in TVC, but i think Akasha is exactly that. I don't know what Anne was thinking when she wrote her (are there any interviews?) but to me she's not a grey character, not even an interesting character. I can see how Marius can be compelling to some people, Akasha just isn't. I can't relate to Lestat's love for her.

The final argument is clumsy and incomplete (although I think the show will improve this part considering the changes to Armand and Louis). While I was reading it I kept thinking "Anne, you should stay away from trying to comment on world's problems, your own worldview is too western-centric for that". She should've kept to universal things like death, grief and loneliness and yearning for recognition, she writes them well.

Just in general I personally always found small scale stories to be more emotionally and intellectually fulfilling than "save the world" plots. So my question is - are the rest of the books lile Qotd? I know TVA isn't, I'm wondering about the rest.

I'm sorry you didn't enjoy QotD.

And I know what you mean!! I also... was taken aback by the finale at the first reading(s).

Akasha... grew on me over time. There is more to it all, but at the point of the story you are at right now she really can come across as a bit... shallow. Let's put it that way.

Interestingly enough I find the almost flat finale very clever - Akasha is stopped, by an action as simple as brutal. They all think she is unstoppable, they all think it is impossible to kill her without dying themselves - but it only takes one actually little thing - and a self-sacrifice, to do so.

There is only one decisive action needed to stop Akasha's hypocrisy, which no-one else dared. Yes, Anne wrote this whole... prophesy around it, if you will, but ultimately that is what it boils down to.

And no, the other books are not like QotD. Each book is... decidedly different.

"The tale of the Body Thief"... is just that. "Memnoch the Devil" is a rather depressing excursion into mythology and God and the Devil, literally. "Blackwood Farm" and "Blood Canticle" cross over with the Blackwoods and the Mayfairs. "The Vampire Armand" is Armand's story and very, very different^^. "Merrick"... is mainly Louis' and the titular Merrick (Mayfair)'s story, but narrated by David. And the other three books are also a very wild ride.

No book in the chronicles is really like the other.

I hope you will find joy in reading them still.

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