#centaur logan

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Opinion on Sanders Sides Centaurs, or any headcanons? :>

I think it’s cool. Headcanon that Centaur Logan basically adopts the centaur dark sides.

[5am-the-foxing-hour]

height differences XD

Shire centaur Logan is a BIG boy

[romanasanders]

Since we've never seen Roman's legs for certain and despite the fact Thomas told us what they'd look like I still am uncertain of their existance, could you possible give Roman some random animal legs? Like a horse or a parrot? Something that just really doesn't fit and would be slightly creepy.

Did you know I once roleplayed as Centaur Roman? So this edit was a blast but it also gave me angsty flashbacks.

*my horse prince theme plays*

[rusty-guitar-strings]

Cold-Blooded Liar - Chapter 1/2

Find part two here!

Summary: In mid winter, snow is expected. Deceit made mistakes, and now he’s suffering the consequences. He deserves it, though, right?

Rating: G

Pairings: implied logicality and prinxiety, can be read as platonic

Word count: 2104

Warnings: yelling, crying, hypothermia, injury/death mentions, angst, deceit the character, sympathetic deceit

Winters were cold. Obviously. Deceit knew that. He also knew that snakes weren’t fond of cold, as they got most of their energy from warmth, and being partially snake himself, he was no exception to that rule. That was the issue that led the naga to where he was at the moment: coiled in a tight ball in the snow, unable to wipe away the flakes falling on top of him, numb with cold. He stared hazily into the distance, frozen beyond shivering. Perhaps his blood was turning to ice. Suppose he stayed here forever, buried in snow, and no one found him until it had all melted and it was too late? Dee’s mind whirled, akin to the freezing snow that fluttered down around him. He bared his fangs at it, as if that would do anything. The naga watched as even his breath was chilled to the point of steam, rising from his lips briefly before it disappeared.

Silently, he contemplated his friends. His family, Patton would have insisted, had he been there. If he could even still call them that. The peppy puppy padre of a werewolf was nowhere near as vicious as stories made everyone to believe. He liked baking and playing fetch and laying in the sunlight that streamed through the large window. He liked cuddling and affectionate kisses to cheeks, foreheads, noses, hair, hands, anywhere and everywhere people would let him, and Patton loved, loved, loved his family. He was never, ever dangerous, Dee had come to understand, unless you threatened the people he cared about. He had also come to understand that, unfortunately the hard way.

The fairy, Roman, was naïve. He was predictable and easy to manipulate. He was, unsurprisingly, the first next to Patton to accept Dee into their home. He was all charming smiles and flourishing gestures and sweeping bows to make you feel like royalty. Roman was a man of theatrics as well, to the surprise of no one. Everything was a big deal. His toast popped up unexpectedly? Roman became a woman in a horror movie. Patton made breakfast for everyone with personalized blueberry shape in the pancakes? He was a god who bestowed a great blessing upon undeserving mortals. Virgil was wearing a skirt? A funeral was arranged for Roman’s confidence. Roman was princely and prideful and perfect, all the time, never stopping, no exceptions. Until Deceit made his mistake, of course.

Then there was Virgil. Edgy, snarky, harmless little harpy. Virgil wasn’t very loud unless he wanted to be. He liked the quiet, and he liked the dark, and he liked the calm. He liked Dee, too, because the naga was all that wrapped up in the body of a snake-human thing. Many nights were spent with the two curled up together in a blanket nest. Virgil would settle himself among the coils of his friend’s body, wrap a wing around his shoulders, and relax. The silence was comfortable. The darkness was nothing to fear. They never shared many words during this time, unless one of the duo needed comforting or calming. It was usually Virgil. If that was the case, Dee would turn on one of Logan’s classical CDs, curl himself gently around the harpy with blankets and pillows and tea, and just hold the younger and remind him to breathe. Virgil was snarky and sarcastic and stingy, but he was far from mean. His talons were sharper than his tone when he spat insults he never meant, mostly at Roman, but occasionally Deceit. He never meant them. Until he did.

Then, there was Logan. Of all the members of their messed-up little posse of creatures, he was by far the most intimidating. He was even above Deceit himself, which felt odd. Logan was a centaur, a towering Clydesdale who shadowed everyone below him in both height and intelligence. He was strong, stoic, and cold. Deceit knew the least about him, because he preferred to be left alone. But that was fine with the naga, he possessed no desire whatsoever to venture near the huge, thundering hooves. Logan had his own stable, where he kept to himself and rarely accepted visitors. The extra stall was to contain Patton when he turned, to avoid him causing anyone harm. He never did, Logan made sure everyone was safe. He didn’t let anything get past him, except a certain slippery snake.

In his defense, Dee had not come into their lives wanting to deceive them. (Patton would have been proud of that one.) He just had to. It was his job. He was paid to infiltrate other organizations or homes to unusual creatures and people, gain their trust and find out all he could, then report it to his boss. Then, he would return, and they would be terminated. The naga was exceptionally good at what he did, and that was why he had the job. He was good at gaining someone’s trust, he was good at faking friendship, he was good at not getting attached and pretending the deaths he caused didn’t sting. He was good at it. Until he wasn’t.

Dee made a mistake. He tripped up, he fell, he flopped. He did the one thing he wasn’t supposed to do. Deceit got attached. He had never been in a group- no, family. They were a family- that was that close. They were loving, truly loving, and accepting, and they made him open up in ways he knew he shouldn’t. He said things he didn’t want to and did things he wasn’t supposed to for reasons that were beyond even him, and yet... he didn’t care. Dee liked them. They showed him what a home was, that it was more than a place and a word. It was close people, and caring words, and kind gestures, and unconditional love.  Deceit had worked up the courage to ask Logan what that meant one day, after hearing the centaur use the word to describe Patton’s love.

“Unconditional means unrestricted, whole-hearted, or absolute,” Logan had explained, dark eyes leaving his book to meet Deceit’s. “It means that Patton loves people, regardless of their actions, mistakes, or unworthiness. I have yet to deduce whether it is admirable or perilous.” Deceit had shuddered as Logan’s cold, calculating gaze scrutinized his very soul. It was like everything he’d ever done had been laid out for the centaur before him to analyze, and his skin began to feel unusually hot with shame.

“Do you think he...cares about me that way?” Dee had finally inquired, picking at his nails and drawing out the ‘s’ a little in his nervousness. He couldn’t bring himself to drag his eyes away from Logan’s, blood pulsing in his ears and muscles tended to flee, should the centaur try anything.

Logan had only blinked slowly, then gone through the process of little actions he did when focusing, which Dee had previously observed. Tightening his tie. Nudging his glasses up. A hand raking through his hair and a flick of his tail to scatter the flies from his flank. His nose wrinkled slightly, and the left corner of his mouth turned upward in thought, or possibly amusement. Dee couldn’t have been sure at the time. “Undoubtedly. Patton is... simple. It is not difficult to gain his affection, but it is very difficult to lose it. I would not worry.” And then he had gone back to his book.

That night, Deceit contemplated this. For the first time, he found himself wanting people to like him, and not just because he had to. Because he liked them, and he cared about them, and he wanted to tell them the truth. He wanted to spill everything, because though Deceit’s very name embodied his lies, this one hurt. It twisted inside his gut like a thousand smaller versions of himself and pressed against his chest, aching and causing sharp pain and desperate to be let out. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. Dee was living a lie, as he always was, but he didn’t want to any longer. But Deceit, the liar, the faker, the snake, was born for this. And so he continued. Until he couldn’t.

It was two weeks later, early December, when he asked everyone into the living room. Deceit explained. He told the truth. He was sent as a spy by an organization who wanted to capture or kill them. He didn’t want them dead, he promised, over and over. He was going to find another way, he promised. He was going to fix this, he promised. But promises after lies were as solid as ice in summer. It was too easy to fall through.

Dee would never forget the looks on faces of his friends family victims. Roman was pale. His eyes were confused, stunned, as if he didn’t understand what had happened. He blinked, looked down at the floor, then back up at Dee. His wings, transparent and a brilliant ruby red, quivered once. He heaved a heavy sigh. “You are a snake, after all,” was all the fairy said.

Logan showed nothing. That terrified Deceit. He didn’t know if the centaur was angry, upset, or if he’d expected this. Logan was silent. He was a stone, a stronghold, a wall Dee could not get through. He held Patton back tightly.

Patton screamed. He screamed in agony and terror and anger and tried to lunge for Deceit, only held back Logan. The werewolf breathed in growls and whines, kicking and struggling and breaking Deceit’s heart mercilessly with his pleas. “Don’t do this! Don’t let them kill my family! Why would you this?! You don’t have to go, we can help you! Please!” The poor man worked himself up so much he started to turn unwillingly. The only words Logan spoke were soft reassurances into the werewolf’s ear, calming words that Deceit couldn’t hear. Even while the centaur soothed his wounded friend, his steely eyes never left the traitor before him.

Virgil didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. His eyes told everything. When he glared, the darkness beneath them seemed to grow. His jaw locked, his fists clenched, his shoulders stiffened at Patton’s sobs, because how dare Deceit do this? How dare he break the heart of their family, betray the trust of the only person who might have loved him? Virgil’s feathers flared. His talons dug into the carpet, but he did not move. He glared at Dee and his shoulders shook as his breathing grew more ragged. His eyes displayed an angry, well-deserved message that he didn’t need to voice. How dare you? I thought we had something. I thought you were different. I thought you cared.

And Dee could only offer a pathetic half-smile. So did I.

The next moments were a flash. Patton gave up and slumped against Logan, sobbing openly. The centaur hugged him closer to his chest, cradling him quietly with a tenderness Deceit had never seen before, especially not in Logan. Virgil stomped his foot and snapped his wings open in a terrifying show, one arm thrusting out to point at the door as he shrieked, “GO!” His moment only lasted that long, however, because then the tears escaped and slid down his face. The harpy choked on an angry sob and clamped his hands over his mouth to muffle the noise. Roman’s arms weaved around him, gently turning him away from Deceit. He gently took Virgil’s wrists, encouraging and reminding him to breathe, then wrapped his arms around the harpy again. Virgil’s hands grabbed Roman’s shirt in a death grip and he stubbornly refused to look at Deceit. Roman locked eyes with the naga, however, then nodded toward the door lightly.  They needed space. Dee slithered out the door. He could feel the eyes of Logan on his back, and the last thing he heard the broken sobbing of Patton.

And so Deceit found himself here, a few days or maybe weeks later. Time didn’t sit well in his head. He was collapsed in the snow like an abandoned garden hose, halfway to death, and with the tears in his eyes freezing before they could even fall. The gray clouds in the sky wept snowflakes, but they weren’t for Dee. They were for Patton. They were for Virgil, and Roman, and Logan, and everyone who had ever suffered at the hands of Deceit. In his last moments, Dee refused to believe even the earth would mourn him. After all, why would it? He was a liar, a faker, a snake.

[magicallygrimmwiccan]

We’re Terrified Of What’s Around the Corner

Summary: He runs. He runs and runs and runs in a desperate attempt to escape his parents. He runs and runs and runs until he smacks into a tree. And that is when everything changes. Written for Inktober Day 11: Forest.

Notes:  So… my Internet crashed last night, so I’m posting this a day late. Also, I keep making characters witches… Oh well, I find it entertaining. Plus, it’s Halloween time, so why not make it a bit spoopy? Anyway, enjoy guys! 

He doesn’t know what eventually causes him to run. Maybe they were just a bit rougher than normal, maybe they finally started to go through with their plan to kill him; either way, he runs and this time, he runs for good. He just needs to get away, and the forest seems to be the best option. So, he does what he does best. He runs. He runs and runs and runs in a desperate attempt to escape his parents. He runs and runs and runs until he smacks into a tree. And that is when everything changes.

“Whoa, kid, are you okay?!” a sweet tenor yelps from somewhere in front of him. Thomas stumbles backwards and bites his lip as he feels his ankle twist. He can’t show pain, he can’t show weakness, he has to be perfect. Forcing back his tears, he glances up at the voice, and his eyes widen in surprise.  

A tall person with dark brown skin, pine green eyes, and spiky black hair stares down at him, a worried look in their large eyes. A hood covers most of their hair and shadows their face, but even Thomas can tell that their hair is an absolute mess. Tall boots come up to almost their knees, and striped tights cover the rest of the legs along with a pair of jean shorts. A T-shirt covers their torso, and a hoodie completes the ensemble. Overall, though, they look friendly. Certainly friendlier than his parents.

“Who are you?” Thomas asks instead of answering the stranger person’s question. The person cocks their head to the side and sticks out their hand for a handshake.

“I’m Virgil. He/him. Who are you, kid, and are you okay?”

“I’m Thomas! Also he/him. And why do you look so funny?” Thomas asks instead, beaming as he introduces himself. Virgil just sighs and crouches down to Thomas’s level, his eyes at once both grim and twinkling with mirth.

“You want some food? My friends are really nice, and they can give you some food before we get you home, okay?” Thomas nods, and Virgil grins before standing up straight so that he towers over Thomas. Granted, almost everyone towers over Thomas. Thomas doesn’t feel threatened by Virgil’s height, though; he knows, even then, that Virgil will never hurt him.

Virgil leads Thomas to a small cave that opens into a clearing surrounded by tall trees with a small river running into a little pond in the centre of it. Thomas’s eyes widen as he takes in the scenery, a feeling of peace and security filling his chest. He never wants to leave. Here, he will be safe. Here, he believes in that moment, he is home.

“Virgil? Why have you arrived home earlier than expected?” a new voice, a soft alto this time, inquires. Thomas tenses and turns around to find a tall person with a horse’s body and a human head and torso staring down at the two of them. Well, staring down at Thomas– they are only about an inch or two shorter than Virgil. Their horse coat is a soft black with dapples of white, while their human torso is clothed with a nice black shirt, a blue argyle sweater vest, and a blue tie. Glasses perch on their nose, and their dark hair is neater than most adults’s Thomas had ever seen.

“I found a kid, Logan. He seemed… lost,” Virgil explains, shrugging. Thomas misses the look Virgil shoots to this new person, Logan (a centaur, Thomas, just call them a centaur), as he wanders around to explore his new surroundings. Logan trots up to him, long white tail swishing behind them, and they extend a hand in greeting.

“Salutations. My name is Logan, and I use he/him pronouns. For future reference, everyone in our little family uses masculine terms of address. What is your name? I surmise that you use he/him pronouns as well,” Logan offers, attempting to look reassuring with a smile on his face. Thomas beams and files away the information from Logan’s little explanation for future use.

“I’m Thomas! It’s nice to meet you, Logan,” he choruses, shaking Logan’s hand with more enthusiasm than a child could normally muster. Sparks of magic start to fly from his hands, and Thomas quickly pulls back, terrified that Logan would yell at him or hit him or kick him out because of his out-of-control magic. Logan’s face falls a bit, and Thomas braces for the worst.

“Oh, Thomas, do you really think I’d harm you for something out of your control?” Logan whispers, his voice shaking with some emotion that Thomas can’t identify. He never learned how to identify any emotion other than anger and not-anger. This was definitely not-anger, but beyond that, Thomas is lost.  

“Sorry,” he mumbles, casting his gaze down towards the ground. Oh, look at that pretty rock! Such a pretty rock. That pretty rock wouldn’t hurt him, not like humans did.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Thomas,” Logan responds, his voice even and leaving no trace of negative emotion. Thomas opens his mouth, maybe to apologize further, maybe to contest Logan’s point, when he feels himself being lifted up into the air by a tight hug.

“Aw, hello, kiddo!” a gleeful voice squeals in his ear. Thomas is quickly spun around to face a man with pointy ears, messy blonde curls, and a tanned face clouded with freckles. “I’m Patton!” the person holding him chirps, grinning so widely that Thomas wonders how the smile even stays on his face. “I heard your name is Thomas?”

“Y-yeah. I’m Thomas,” Thomas manages to stammer out. Patton giggles and gently lowers him to the ground, still smiling with bright, shining eyes. Thomas has just gotten used to his feet being on the ground when he is suddenly accosted by a new presence, this one a tall red-head with large butterfly wings who charges him from the side.

“Hello, my young knight! It is I, Roman, your new caretaker!” he cries dramatically, sweeping Thomas off of his feet and settling him gently on his shoulder. “Now come, let us vanquish the foul dragon who has taken you captive!”

“Oh no, I must flee! The combined might of the prince and the knight is too much for my evil heart!” Patton wails, dramatically clasping a hand to his chest. Thomas breaks out giggling, thoroughly amused at the antics of his new caretakers. Roman sets him down and ruffles his hair, still grinning.

“Now, kiddo, do you need help getting home?” Patton asks, crouching down so that he is eye to eye with Thomas. Thomas’s mood instantly sours. He had no home. He thought that maybe here could be home, but apparently that wasn’t the case.

“No… I don’t really think I have a home anymore,” he whispers, tears starting to pool in the corner of his eyes. He distantly registers Virgil and Logan coming closer, but all he focuses on is the grass right in front of Patton’s feet. It’s a pretty green, bright and crisp and alive, so unlike him. He wishes he could live here and stare at this grass all day, but he can’t because these nice people are trying to send him away.

“Oh, kiddo…” Patton whispers. Thomas refuses to look up. He feels someone crouch by his shoulder, and someone else gently grasps his jaw with their hand. He feels his head being tilted up, and he registers Roman’s kind, worry-filled expression in front of him.

“Well, then, your new home can be here with us. Is that alright with you?” Roman responds, a small smile tugging at his lips. Thomas searches Roman’s eyes for any hint of anger or lies or sarcasm, but finds none. Slowly, carefully, hopefully, he nods. Roman’s small smile turns into a full-blown grin as he sweeps Thomas off his feet and dashes towards the tree line, babbling about how he is going to show Thomas everything in the forest that night. Patton follows, cheering about the newest addition to their little family. Thomas glances back, and sure enough, Logan and Virgil are steadily following, fond smiles painting both of their faces. It is that sight that seals it for Thomas, he will later realize. It is at that moment that he knows he has finally found his family.

[ifeellikeameowster]

Sanders Sides Monster AU

Logan- Centaur (Bay Roan Appaloosa)

Roman- Satyr (Markhor)

Patton- Harpy (Blue Grey Tanager)

Virgil- Naga (Formosan Odd-Scaled Snake)

*The others like to ride on Logan's back, but some *cough* Roman *cough* are too heavy to stay on for long. Virgil wraps around to distribute his weight, making him the best rider. Patton perches pretty well but sometimes accidentally digs his talons into Logan's hide when he gets too excited.

*When Patton gets complimented or proud of the others, his feathers fluff up in happiness. Also he is The Mother HenTM.

*Roman keeps the other satyrs in check to make sure they don't use their magic to take advantage of humans. "Remember everyone, consent is the most romantic thing of all!" 

*Roman can play the flute(based on when he tried to play the recorder).

*Being reptilian, Virgil gets cold easily. He used to just nest up in lots of blankets but now that the others accept him he'll just randomly wrap around one of them for cuddles.

*I guess since these are basically all Greek monsters then Thomas can be the Greek God that created them!

[pizza-box-raccoon]

@kieraelieson ‘s Centaur au gives me life.

Part 1 here and part 2 here.

Please check it out!

(Click for better quality.)

[rusty-guitar-strings]

Cold-Blooded Liar - Chapter 2/2

Find chapter one here!

Summary: In which most issues are solved, but some are not, and that’s okay.

Rating: G

Pairing(s): Implied Logicality, heavily implied Prinxiety

Word count: 2522

Warnings: deceit the character, sympathetic deceit, snakes

Author’s Note: Woop second chapter. Forgive me as I am still making sense of the workings on tumblr! Apparently you can make actual page breaks, so... there’s that! Also, the other two fanfics I wrote got much more attention than I was expecting! Thank you so much to everyone who read and liked my work and especially those who reblogged and left feedback! You all are so sweet and kind! This is the second fanfic I’ve ever written and the last one I have pre-written to post, so if you have any suggestions or requests, let me know and I might write them! I might write more for this AU as well, just because I love the creatures they are. Thank you all again, and enjoy the chapter!

It was still freezing. Deceit stirred, coming to the equally thrilling and utterly disappointing realization that he was, in fact, not dead. He felt like his eyes were frozen shut, and he didn’t want to open them again, but he felt a warm torso pressed against his, the owner carrying him close. The rest of his body was piled behind them somehow, on something large and furry and equally as warm, and he was soothed a little from his initial panic by a gentle rocking motion. He made a small noise of concern, and immediately whoever was carrying him halted.

“Hush,” a smooth, cool, silvery voice murmured. It was oddly calming. A gloved hand was rested over his forehead, and Deceit whimpered and pressed into the touch. Oh, how he missed Patton. “You will waste energy. Try and stay awake, now that you are up, or else you may not wake again.”

Oh, lovely. He pressed closer to his savior, desperate for any form of warmth. “But ‘m sleepy,” he whined, clinging to their shirt.

“Drowsiness is an unfortunate symptom of hypothermia, which you appear to be suffering an extremely dangerous case of. It would be ideal for you to remain conscious. Loss of it could result in death.”

“Y’sound like Logan,” Dee slurred, eyelids opening a sliver and vision swimming for a moment. The blur above him was dark blue with black hair, and the stranger nodded.

“There would be a reason for that.” The centaur’s mouth quirked upward slightly in the closest thing yet to a smile, and Deceit was unfortunately too out of it to see.

It seemed like hours before they arrived at... wherever they were going. He heard whoever was carrying him knock on a door, then the gasp of the person behind it before he drifted off again.

“Logan, what happened? Where did you find him? Is he okay?! Are you okay?!” Patton rocked on his feet nervously, watching as the centaur ducked low to carry Deceit in.

“I am quite well, Patton. If you could take care of him... warm him up slowly, remove any wet clothes. That is the most efficient method. I must return to the stable.” He settled the naga on the couch and turned back towards the door.

“Why?”

“Pardon?” Logan glanced back, adjusting his glasses.

“Why do you need to go back to the stable, Lo?” The centaur had unfortunately come face-to-fade with Patton’s legendary ‘puppy-dog eyes.’

“Because that is where I belong. In here, I will only make a mess.”

“Baby, it’s cold outside,” Patton suddenly sang.

Logan lifted an eyebrow, watching the man below him. “We are not romantically involved, Patton.”

“I know.” The werewolf pouted. “I just...worry. About you.”

“What for? There is no need to be worried for my safety, I assure you, I am quite capable of-“

“It’s freezing, Lo. The stables don’t have heat. How long were you out there?”

“Longer than I would have hoped.”

Patton took a few steps toward the centaur, taking one of his hands. He gasped softly. “Oh, you’re shaking! Logan, stay inside, we can-“

“Patton,” Logan interrupted, pulling his hand away quickly, “it is urgent that you stabilize Dee as soon as possible. I will be perfectly fine.”

Not looking happy with the answer, the paternal werewolf started to pull off Deceit’s shirt in order to get him warm. “Roman!” He called aloud. “Can you grab those towels and blankets from the dryer?!”

“You got it, padre!” The fairy sprinted down the stairs, only sticking the landing thanks to his wings, then went still at the sight before him. “What’s that slippery snake doing here?” He asked, voice lowering in both concern and anger.

“Lo found the poor kiddo out in the snow! Can you believe that?” Patton was chipper as ever. “We gotta warm him up before he freezes. Blankets and towels, please?”

Roman folded his arms, looking to the centaur. “He’s got to go.”

“Now, Roman, I know he hurt you,” Patton began, but he never got to finish, because the fairy interrupted him mid-sentence with a scoff.

“Me?! I dare say he did not! I was merely disappointed. However, he truly upset Virgil. I fear having the two together would be a recipe for disaster!”

“Roman is correct,” Logan contributed.

“I am?” Roman looked surprised for a brief moment before he recovered. “I mean, yes, of course I am!”

The Clydesdale sighed and shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “Attempting to repair a relationship such as theirs so soon after it was torn apart is not a good idea. They will only fight and argue until we all grow tired of it, or one of them gets hurt. Though I am unsure of where you two stand, I have no desire for either of those outcomes. It would be best to keep the two separated for now.”

“That’s exactly what I meant,” Roman announced, eager to claim at least some credit. Patton nodded sadly after a moment, eyes taking on the kicked puppy expression.

“I guess you’re right. Roman, towels and blankets. Then can you let Virgil know what’s going on? Don’t let him come downstairs, though.”

“A quest it is! I shall not fail you, sweet Patton! I will mend this broken romance-“

“-it is not a romance-“ Logan interjected.

“-if it costs me my life!” At some point, Roman switched from speaking to singing. “I shall climb every mountain, I shall search high and low, I shall follow every rainbow-“

“Roman. Now, please,” Logan interrupted again.

“Ah, yes, of course, my apologies!” The fairy sprinted off. Logan and Patton exchanged a glance. The centaur shook his head slowly with a sigh.

Virgil stared at his ceiling, listening to the downstairs door creak open. The thud of hooves signaled Logan’s entry into the house, which was unusual in itself. Rarely did the centaur come inside, mostly because of his own insistence that he would make a mess or break something by accident. It was a reasonable... reason, Virgil supposed, seeing as how it had happened before. When the conversation began, Virgil growled through his teeth and yanked his headphones on, feathers ruffled with agitation.

Apparently, getting some peace and quiet around here is impossible!

Thankfully, the headphones blocked out the noise well enough, and Virgil was able to focus on counting the glow stars stuck to his ceiling (courtesy of Patton) and arranged in the shapes of constellations (Logan’s idea, as carried out by Roman, because the centaur couldn’t get up the stairs.) He counted forty-seven, but he should have had fifty, so he started over again. He reached about twenty-four when a star fell off and hit Virgil in the face. The harpy huffed. At least now I what happened to the missing three...

“Oh, Sultan Sulkin’,” an endearingly annoying voice twittered, far too loud to be blocked by Virgil’s headphones. He pulled the glow star off of his face and sat up, moving his headphones to around his neck.

“What do you want, Princey?” He watched the overdramatic fairy enter his room.

“I’ve got good news and bad news. Which do you want first?” Roman held up his hands, each with one finger up. Virgil lifted an eyebrow.

“Uh... good?”

“Excellent choice! The good news is, Logan has finally acknowledged my brilliance!” He struck a triumphant pose. The harpy hunched on the bed rested his in his hand, not even attempting to feign amusement. When Roman shot him an offended look, he held his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay, fine. Good job, Roman. Are you gonna tell me the bad news yet?”

Suddenly, the fairy’s expression turned serious. Virgil felt his stomach drop. This was bad, bad news.

“Virgil, we- er, Logan found Dee. He was freezing to death, and Patton’s working on warming him up. Don’t be mad?” Roman begged, eyes pleading.

The harpy stiffened, and he saw Roman do the same. “I’m- I’m not mad,” he managed quickly, then hesitated. “Okay, I’m a little mad. But... what if he tries to hurt us? What if he tries to hurt you?!” Virgil narrowed his eyes. “He could be faking it! Trying to get us to feel sorry for him so we let our guard down and then he can finish the job! He’ll jump up with like, I dunno, a knife or something, and he just-“

“Virgil, slow down. You’re overthinking again. Dee’s not gonna hurt anyone, Patton and Logan will make sure of that.” Roman rested a gentle hand on his shoulder, sitting across from him on the bed. The younger still looked uneasy, but he nodded after a moment.

“Right. Yeah. It’ll... it’ll be fine,” he assured himself aloud, the fairy across from him watching earnestly. Virgil swallowed. “It’ll be fine. Thanks, Princey.”

“Of course. What sort of hero would  be if I didn’t provide aid to those in need?” He flashed a bright grin, which only earned an eye roll from the harpy.

“Don’t push it. I would have been fine alone.”

“Of course you would have. The thing is, you didn’t have to be.” Roman patted his edgy friend’s wing lightly, then Virgil heard a murmur of, “oh, that’s soft...” Fingers brushed lightly across his feathers, and he pushed the limb forward a little so Roman could reach better.

“Why are you petting me?” He snickered.

“Oh, shut up, you like it!” Roman stuck his tongue out, then paused, seeming to cave in a little. “You... do like it, don’t you?”

“Yeah, sure, it’s... it’s whatever.” He smiled slightly, picking at his nails. Chipping black polish flaked onto the bed. Suddenly Roman was behind him on the bed, pulling the harpy back against his chest. This only put Virgil on edge again, and he gasped slightly.

“Relax. We’ve decided it’s best for now if you two don’t interact. It could be... dramatic.”

“Like you?”

“Perhaps.” Roman laughed, leaning back to let Virgil recline against him.  The two sat in silence for a little while. Another glow star landed in Roman’s hair, and the fairy just kind of left it there. He refused to let Virgil take it out either. “It suits me,” he protested. “Don’t you think?”

“It makes you look like a Christmas tree,” Virgil countered, looking up at him from below.

“‘Tis the season.”

“You’re weird.”

“He’s... he’s going to be okay, right?” Patton looked up from where he was seated in front of Logan, eyes alight with worry. “I mean, I did everything right?”

“Of course. You have aided him to the best of your ability, Patton. It is unlikely that his condition will deteriorate.” Logan reached up to adjust his glasses. The naga had been plopped across the couch, swaddled effectively in warm blankets and towels from the dryer. The heat had been cranked up, the fire was going, and Logan felt almost dizzy at the amount warmth filling the room. It seemed to be just right for someone else, however, because Dee stirred on the couch a few moments later.

“Deceit!” Patton rushed over to the couch, shifting nervously near the naga. “How are you feeling?” He asked, softening his voice. Logan watched from where he was, not really interested in getting up. The naga still looked dazed, looking at Patton in confusion.

“Cold...”

“That is a reasonable answer,” Logan pointed out, and Patton giggled. He lay down next to Dee and wrapped his arms around him to help keep him warm.

“I’m sorry,” Deceit murmured softly. “For not telling you, and putting you in danger, and-“ his voice wavered, “-and everything...”

“Oh, no, don’t cry!” The werewolf holding him fretted, squeezing him closer. Logan decided to allow Patton to deal with the emotional portion of their drama fest, as he was not quite cut out for that sort of thing. “It’s gonna be okay, we’re going to figure this out.”

“Do they know where we are?” The centaur broke in suddenly. The naga looked nervous and shrank away. Logan sighed. “I will not be angry, but I need the truth. Did you tell your boss where we are living or not?”

“...no. He doesn’t know. Still believes I’m collecting information.”

“Good.” Logan nodded. “That will provide us with an easy cover while we search for a solution.”

“I might be able to get enough evidence to report them to authorities for physical abuse,” Deceit mumbled thoughtfully.

“Wouldn’t that put you in danger, though?” Patton frowned, visibly worried, down at the Naga in his arms. “I mean, you working with them and all...”

“I probably deserve it. I mean, I’ve let them hurt so many.”

“Falsehood. You may have let them, but that does not mean you are at fault. You are simply a pawn in the large game that life is to them. And should they happen to accuse you, I happen to know you as an exceptionally convincing liar.” Logan pushed his glasses up, locking eyes with the golden yellow ones of the naga.

Patton gasped. “Logan! Don’t encourage him! Lying is wrong.”

“Under most circumstances, yes.” The centaur nodded in agreement. “I am not encouraging him to state a falsehood, I am simply making a suggestion. It would be to his benefit and to ours. He never intended to cause any harm.”

Patton hesitated. “If... if he won’t be hurting anyone, I guess it isn’t wrong...” Dee sighed in relief. “But!” Patton added, making him jump visibly. “Don’t think you’re getting out of a punishment, mister! You don’t get to leave the house unless totally necessary for two weeks, and you have to have someone with you at all times.”

“Are you...grounding me?” Deceit looked confused. Logan felt amusement bubble in his chest.

“Yes! I am!” Patton gave him as stern of a dad look as he could manage while cuddling the naga. “And after that, we will be making you do charity work!”

“Okay, what kind of charity work?” He seemed more humored than intimidated.

“I volunteer at a pet shelter on Tuesdays and Thursdays. You’ll be coming to help me for at least a month,” Patton ordered. Deceit smirked slightly.

“If you insist, Dad.”

Patton gasped for an unusually long amount of time, leaving Logan to wonder if the werewolf ever intended to exhale. He turned to Logan, eyes sparkling. “He called me Dad!” He whispered, looking very close to tears. This resulted in a giggling Dee and a very awkward Logan.

“So I heard. Con...gratulations?” He spoke slowly, hoping he was saying the right thing. Patton squealed and squeezed Deceit even tighter, to the point where Logan began to grow concerned for the state of his rib cage.

“This is the best day of my life!” Patton gushed, and Dee just smiled tiredly up at him.

“Make sure he rests,” Logan advised, turning his attention to the snow falling outside the window. Perhaps the issue was far from being resolved. Perhaps more issues were to come. But Logan knew they would find a way through it, because they always did. Things were always fine. The winter, too, would pass.

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