#sorry for no id my brain is struggling to convert it to words as is often the case lol

[gleniferskydays]

one day i will wake up from the dream and the meaning of it all will be revealed to me

[the-blind-assassin-12]

The Bottom: Part 2 of 2

A/N: This was originally supposed to go...very differently. But then I had a revelation in the shower this morning, and everything changed. And I guarantee you’ll like it better this way. If you’re curious about the original ending after you read this bad boy, pop into my messages and i’ll tell you all about it. 

Warning: descriptions of overdose, drug use 

Word Count: 4841

When Logan’s name flashed across the caller ID, Juliet answered without a second’s pause, expecting her brother’s tone to be bright and warm as it had been for the better part of two years. He probably wants to meet for lunch. There was a time when meeting her brother for lunch was in a completely different realm of impossible. There was a time when seeing his name appear on her screen brought a chill to her chest and a dizzying headache as her heart began pounding in her brain; a time when a call from Logan meant that he was in some kind of trouble, or that he’d been rushed to the emergency room, or that he was contemplating filling his veins with enough poison to permanently curb his pain. But his recovery had been going so well, and he’d been working so hard to uncover the light that he’d lost inside of himself, that those feelings of dread, that conditioned, involuntary response had become just a memory. 

 “Hey...Juliet? Can...can we talk?... I’m at the hospital and-”

 And just like that, those memories came speeding back to claw at her lungs and tear through her mind. Logan’s face; cheeks hollow and covered with too many days worth of unkempt growth, dark eyes completely matte and dull, pupils so small they were barely there, rimmed in grayish purple circles that only made his pale complexion seem more colorless. His skin; sweaty and clammy and thin beneath her fingers as she hoisted him onto his side, saving him from choking, arms and legs dotted with bruises and blotches. That slow motion sound to his voice, the small cracks and tired quality. The things he would say and how little sense they made, how not a thing from his mouth was credible- none of the promises could be believed, none of the apologies or threats or curses really meant anything at all. How he’d swing from livid screams of “Fuck off, Jules, I fuckin’ hate you!” to desperate, pleading, painfully sorrowful sobs of “I’m sorry, I’ll be better, Jules, I promise…”

 Hearing him say those words- “I’m at the hospital”- made her heart rate triple and her eyes grow wide. She stood abruptly from her desk, manicured fingers clutching her phone in one hand and grabbing her keys with the other. No. Not again. Please don't make him go through this again. She wasn’t sure who she was pleading with, but the thought of Logan falling back after reaching such a peak, after the rigorous climb to sobriety that he’d made, filled her heart with lead and sent it dropping into her stomach. 

  What? Logan? What happened? Are you…” she paused, swallowed, clamped her eyes shut against the dizzying question whipping around in her skull: Are you relapsing again? Even though he hadn’t backslid in over two and a half years, that was where her terrified mind went. “Are you sick? Logan? Are you hurt?” The words were tumbling out and over one another too quickly for him to answer, too quickly for her to stop them, their bitter taste leaving her tongue numb.

 “Hey, no, Jules...I’m okay. I’m here because…” she listened to his tone- not bright and cheerful, but not broken or slurred. He sighed and it sounded heavy, but it had the distinct weight to it that only came from carrying someone else’s burden. She knew that sigh well, having emptied her own lungs in that same soul shuddering way plenty of times. I swear, if this is about… “Jules, I’m here because someone needs me to be here.”  

 Juliet froze halfway to her office door and spoke your name into the phone. It wasn’t a guess, she was sure he was talking about you. Her stomach churned uneasily as she exhaled through semi flared nostrils. I thought I made it clear to her that Logan didn’t need- 

 “Yeah… yes. It’s, fuck. She… Jesus, Juliet. She called me because she thought she was fucking dying. And… and I think she wanted to...at least, at least last night I think she did…” 

 He sounds so...so sad. “Is...is she okay?” Juliet regained a normal, even tone from the relief of knowing that he was still safe, still healthy. But he’s still in pain. Why does it have to be her, Logan? She adjusted the strap of her shoulder bag before meticulously fixing the few errant strands of her dark curls, letting out a painfully patient sigh. 

 “She’s...stable, yeah.” He sniffed and cleared his throat, and when he spoke again it was anything but clear. “Jules...when I saw her…” he swore and his voice lurched with the distinct unevenness of uncontrolled breathing. “When I saw her, Jules… I- I realized what it was like...what I was like when you… shit.” She heard a rustling sound and imagined that he was rubbing his hand over his face, knowing that this wasn’t easy for him. “Juliet I’m...thank you. I love you, Jules.” 

 Juliet could taste her heart on her tongue and forced her eyes shut. “I love you too, Logan. You don’t have to-” 

 “No. I do. I know I said it before. But now I know. I know what you...what you saw, what you felt.” No, Logan, you can’t have any idea. You’re my brother. She’s just…  “and how you...what you had to do and… And I know now, Jules.” There was a deep understanding in his tone, as though everything he’d been through- overdoses, hospital stays, rehab, withdrawal, the meetings, the back slide, sobriety- all of it was punctuated with a final level of acknowledgement now that he’d seen it from the other side. 

 “I hope you never have to see it again, Logan.” Her own voice had lost its sharpness, and though she was far from your biggest fan, the sincerity in her words was genuine; she truly hoped with every bone in her body that Logan wouldn’t have to go through anything like what he must have spent the last several hours going through- what she’d spent too much time going through herself. 

 “I’m gonna help her, Jules.” He sounded more resolute than she’d ever heard him sound, even in the boardroom or in negotiations, when he could be a downright cocky son of a bitch. But… help her?  What did he mean by that? “I want to… she’s… I need to help her.” 

 “Logan are you-” Are you sure that’s a good idea? I’m not. What if she can’t be helped? Are you thinking straight? Does she really mean that much to you? “Are you still at the hospital? I’ll meet you there.” And to think I thought we’d be meeting for lunch when this call started… 

 “Yeah...yeah, I’ll be here until they release her. Don’t want her to be alone, her family’s out of town and she… fuck even when they are in town she’s got no one, Jules.” 

 Juliet left her office and strode down the hallway, heels clicking against the hardwood. “Okay. I’m on my way now. Be there in about twenty five minutes, okay?” And then we’re going to talk about this help. 

 “Yeah, okay Jules. Thanks. Thank you for coming.” Tired, determined, hopeful, scared… he was all of those things and she completely understood… and she completely hated it. 

 “Of course, Logan. I’ll see you soon.” She hung up and pushed her phone down into her purse, passing her assistant’s office. From the corner of her eye she saw him spring up from his desk like a jack-in-the-box, darting out to follow her. 

 “Ms. Delos, do you need a car? Should I call you a driver? Make any arrangements?” Juliet didn’t slow her steps or even turn around. 

 “No, Jeff, thank you, I’m going to drive myself.” Don’t want anyone to know I’m meeting Logan in the ER. “Just cancel all my afternoon meetings, please. Reschedule them for any time after Wednesday. Thank you, Jeff.” She raised her right hand in thanks as Jeff stopped following and returned to his office to start contacting the several clients and vendors that were likely already on their way to meet with her. Turning down the hallway that lead out to the parking garage, she kept her brisk pace until she reached her sleek black convertible, getting in and pulling out towards the highway. He needs to make sure he knows what he’s doing...Oh, Logan… why does it have to be her? 

 .  . .  .  .  .  . .  .  .

 When you woke up again after the doctor had been in to check on you, everything ached. Parts of yourself that you didn’t know you had, parts of yourself that you didn’t think still had viable nerve endings, parts of yourself you thought you’d already damaged beyond repair, were burning and throbbing, dull and hot and well past the pain level that you were comfortable with. Nausea rose in angry waves, corrosive bile eating at your stomach lining, your esophagus, staining the inside of your mouth. Your lungs felt tired despite the oxygen tube beneath your nose and around your ears, the plastic rubbing against your skin with the sensation of tiny sawblades, and with each breath you felt yourself grow closer and closer to the sleep that your pain kept you from.You raised your right hand to try to move the offending tubing, but you were stopped. Realizing that you’d had your eyes closed this whole time, you struggled greatly to open them and found Logan’s long fingers wrapping gently around your hand and pushing it back down to your side. You felt his forearm against your own, his skin warm and soft, yours thin and cold. 

 “Hey, nope, you need that, leave that there, okay?” There was a patience in his tone that you never would have associated with Logan Delos. He was used to instant gratification; demands, not requests, confidence, not uncertainty. Clearly, more had changed since the last time you had seen him than his sobriety. You weren’t delusional enough, even in your current state, to think that he was simply this patient and understanding for you. 

 You let him hold your wrist down against the sheets until you nodded and he was satisfied that you wouldn’t try to disrupt your oxygen tube again, and even then he didn’t take his hand back. Instead, he moved his thumb back and forth against your prominent wrist bone, protruding like a marble from the base of your hand. “Just hurts,” you mumbled, trying to explain why you wanted to move the tubing. 

 He inhaled shakily through his nose and nodded. “I know. I know it does.” His dark eyes narrowed briefly and he swallowed before your name fell from his lips- lips you could still feel all over your body even years later, lips that had always indulged whatever whim you were on, lips that were now set in a firm line to keep from quivering. “Do you...did you hear what the doctor was saying before?” 

 You shook your head as much as you could, no recollection of a conversation with your doctor. 

 Logan’s fingers curled around your wrist again and tightened in a brief squeeze as he sighed. “You need to stay overnight again tonight. You had… there must have been… there must have been something else in your stuff...some additive or, or whatever but it caused some blood clots- small ones, but they were near your lungs so… so they just want to be sure that they dissolve before you can go home.” 

 So that’s why it's so exhausting to breathe. You watched him wince as he explained what you’d done to yourself, and immediately you felt guilt add itself to the roiling waves of withdrawal nausea in your stomach. He shouldn’t be here. This isn’t fair to him. 

 “So you need this,” he brought his free hand up to your face and traced the line of plastic tubing over your cheek and around your ear. “I know it hurts. But you need it. Need to leave it alone so you can get better.” He combed his fingertips through your hair, grazing the top of your ear, featherlight before his palm conformed to the side of your head, cradling it against the pillow. “You need to get better. You will.” He swallowed again and you closed your eyes as the lips you remembered found a spot on your forehead. You felt a tingle spread out from where he kissed you, like a protective aura had been cast over you with that kiss. If only it were that simple. 

 “Logan,” your voice was raspy and your throat felt like you’d swallowed box cutter blades, but what you had to say was important so you pushed through the pain. “Logan, I’m sorry that I called you last night. I...you shouldn’t be here.” One had was still tucked against the side of your head, the other still holding your wrist, thumb brushing the skin beneath the plastic bracelet with your intake information. Why doesn’t he see that? 

 “What do you mean? Don’t apologize. I’m...I’m so glad you called me. What if-”  The look of confusion on his face was yet another new development. The Logan you knew was always sure, even when others weren’t. He shook his head and a few pieces of hair fell out of place. 

 “No, Logan, I am. I’m sorry because,” you took a breath. “Because you’re clearly doing so...so well and I didn’t mean,” another breath, “to bring you back into this and…” you exhaled, coughing and he tried to silence you but you shook your head through the cough and took another breath. “You don’t need to be here with me, Logan. You’re not...obligated or…” 

 “Stop.” There he is. Finally, the Logan you remembered showed up, voice full and commanding. “I know I’m not obligated. I’m here because I want to be here, and I want to be here because I...care about you. I always have...I-” the sureness wavered again but he gathered his eyebrows together and rallied the command back into his tone. “I know you cared about me, too, back then. I...I know we did a lot of...of fucked up shit together. And I know it was fucked of me that I never reached out to you after I got clean. And, no, stop-” you had tried to raise your hand under his touch, tried to cut him off and speak, but he didn’t let you. “Let me...please let me say this?” You nodded feeling tears dripping from the corners of your eyes. “I should have. I know Juliet told you to stay away. I know. And I know why she thought that was best. And maybe it was for a little while. But...but I know that I should have reached out to you. I... even after everything...I missed you. You… you always saw me, you know? You saw me for more than what was wrong with me. You saw that I was trying… you saw that I wanted to be better...you… we were just… it wasn’t good timing before. We couldn’t help each other because we were both drowning. But the truth is, I would have drowned a lot sooner without you- without knowing that there was someone who knew me like you do. Maybe Juliet was the one who finally pulled me up, and for that I owe her everything. But you… you were important, too...are. Are important. And… and it doesn’t have to mean anything now or right away or ever. Even though I…” his tongue came out to wet his lips, a flash of pink before it disappeared behind his teeth. “Even though I care about you...I never stopped caring about you...but more than that… I want to help you. Someone helped me. And now I can do that for you. Please...please let me.” 

 This was it. He was laying it out and you had to decide if you were going to let him be there for you, let him help you. You knew you’d have to take this seriously if you let him, knew you couldn’t let him down. It was hard to believe the things he was saying- that he cared...that he always did and still does...that even in his drugged out haze of years past, he knew that you cared, too, knew that you saw inside of him then the man that sat beside you now. What difference could there have been if your father or brother had done for you what Juliet had done for Logan? They’d both given up on you years ago, writing you off as the black sheep with issues, probably hoping you’d just hurry up and off yourself so they wouldn’t be burdened by your destructive cycle. You had no idea where they even were at the current moment, or if they knew where you were, and honestly, you didn’t care. You’d read once about how important it was to distance yourself from the people who you were close to when you were trapped in the repetition of heroin use disorder. You always thought that referred only to suppliers and people that you used with. But you realized now that it included enablers, too, and that in their absence, they’d enabled you to believe that you had no one. But that wasn’t true. You looked up through your tears at the man beside you. You had Logan; he was right here, and he was telling you that you weren’t alone. For the first time in years, you weren’t alone. 

 “Okay.” It was all you could muster, but you felt so much more than those four letters could hold. The pain and exhaustion were still the most prominent things that you felt, and you knew that what you were feeling was only the tip of the iceberg, but maybe...maybe if you had Logan...maybe you could get through it. 

 “Okay?” His eyes widened and you saw them lighten a few shades. “Okay? Yes?” You nodded and his sigh of relief changed the set of his face back to the relaxed, quiet expression he’d been wearing when you woke up. He leaned down and kissed the same spot on your forehead again. “Thank you,” he whispered. You felt the tip of his nose buried in your hair, and his scratchy facial hair brush at your temple. “Thank you.” When he pulled back and sat up again, he took his hand away from your head and wiped at his eyes. 

 You twisted the wrist he’d been holding so that your palm could slide over his wrist instead, fingers not making it all  the way around the way they used to. It was hard to keep eye contact with him- your eyelids each weighed a ton, your tears were flooding your vision, and the emotion in his eyes was near blinding, but you locked in as much as you could. “I’m gonna get better, Logan.” 

 “Yes. Yes you are. I promise you. It’s worth it.” 

 Looking at him now, able to sit here and watch you struggle, able to sit next to you and know the pain that you were in, know how every cell in your body felt swollen and sore, know how all you wanted was to sink back under the warm surface and float all the way down to where the pain couldn’t reach you, and still say that it was worth it, meant everything. If he can do it, I can do it, especially if he’s helping me. And if he’s helping me… I have to do it. 

 You were going to say something else, but there was a knock on the door and you both swiveled your heads towards the nurse who stuck his head inside. “Mr. Delos, there’s someone at the nurses’ station for you.” 

 Logan turned away from the nurse and back to you. “That’s Juliet.” Your heart thudded out of rhythm. Oh. She’s not going to be happy. Your anxiety must have shown on your face, because his fingertips were back on your forehead, brushing soothingly across your clammy skin. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle everything. Rest, okay? I’ll be back.” He kissed that same spot one last time before crossing the room. Upon reaching the door, he looked back at you and gave you a tired smile, ecstatic that you’d agreed to let him help you, before disappearing out into the hall. 

 Juliet is going to be pissed. You tried not to dwell on how your involvement in Logan’s life would shake up his relationship with his sister, trying to remind yourself that she was just concerned about her brother, and that he wanted to be here with you, and that neither of those where bad things. 

 .  . .  .  .  .  . .  

 Juliet chewed her thumbnail, a habit that she hated, but one that came out involuntarily under stress. She stared at the same reproduction painting in the private waiting room that she’d stared at time and time again, thinking to herself, I could paint that. I’ve looked at that ugly thing so much now… I could paint it with my eyes closed. The sound of the door opening broke her out of her artistic contemplation and she turned, dropping her hand to her side. “Logan,” she exhaled his name and crossed the small space to wrap her arms around him. Turning her face to kiss his cheek, she squeezed tightly and felt him squeeze back before she pulled away. He’s okay. He looks okay, just tired, just sad. 

 “Hey, Jules,” he responded before letting out a long and ragged breath. He found the arms of a chair and gripped them before lowering himself down into it. 

 Juliet crossed her arms and shifted her weight to her back foot. “How’s...how is she doing?” 

 Logan blew out another breath, this time not as shaky, coming out in a spurt through his lips. “It was rough for a minute… and she’s… she has to stay tonight, maybe tomorrow, too. I didn’t tell her about tomorrow, but…” he shook his head, messy hair flopping against his brow. “But she,” he looked up then, and the smile that lit his face shocked her. “She agreed to let me help her, Jules. She’s gonna go to rehab… she’s gonna get clean and-” 

 Juliet quickly spun to take the seat next to her brother and reached for the hand closest to her, which was still gripping the arm of the chair. “Logan. This girl. How...how can you be sure that she means it? Any of it? How can you trust her, Logan?” She felt her eyes fill with concern and hoped that’s how her questions came across. Juliet’s worst fear was that he’d get involved with helping you, and either he’d fall back into old habits, or you’d relapse… you’d OD and die and leave him hurting worse than ever. It had to be her, didn’t it? Nothing you do is easy, is it, Logan? 

 Logan surprised her by sitting up and leaning forward in his chair. He didn’t rip his hand away, didn’t raise his voice or use an irritated tone. “Jules, let me ask you something.” 

 “Okay…” 

 “When you dragged me to rehab. When you found me, choking to death on my own puke, eyes rolling back and-” Juliet looked away. “Hey, no come on, look at me, please.” She pressed her lips together, held her eyes shut for a few more seconds and then obliged and opened them. “When you found me like that, Jules, how did you know it was going to work? Did you trust me when I said I would try?”

“I...Logan, you’re my brother. I knew it was going to work because I believed in you. I trusted you because I believed that you could do it.” 

 Logan nodded. “That’s right. You believed in me. Dad thought you were nuts, remember? And William?” 

 “Fuck William, Logan, he-” 

 Logan held up a hand, dismissing her hatred for her ex-husband. He hated him, too, fucking prick, but that wasn’t the point. “Agreed. Fuck him. But he thought you were crazy to believe in me. To want to help me. Remember?” He opened his arms and spread his fingers. “But you did. And here I am. I made it because you believed in me when no one else would. Because I wasn’t alone. I had help. I had you. Jules, I know I wouldn’t have made it without you. I know that. And now… now I get to do that for her. She’s got no one like you, Jules. Her family doesn’t give a fuck about her. They’re not even here. They’re not even coming. But I want to be here. I believe in her, Jules, in what she could be and do when she’s out of this. She’s smart. She’s bright and I know that’s hard to see but...but even back a few years ago...it was about more than the drugs with her, Jules, I...I didn’t know it then, because it was buried under everything else...but I loved her, Juliet. I couldn’t...I wasn’t able to see it, but even in the numbness...it was there. It’s still there. I love her. I don’t really know what that means yet, and I know it can’t mean anything until she’s healthy again… until she’s clean and can focus on other things...but… but I'm not just going to let her drown.” 

 “Logan...I’m scared for you.” 

 “I know you are, Jules. I know. I know you probably thought that I was strung out again when I called you earlier.” She made to protest even though that was exactly what she thought, but he tilted his head and held up a finger as he finished. “It’s okay. I don’t blame you. But you believed in me once, right? You believed that I could get clean and be healthy and get better, right?” 

 “Yes. Yes, Logan, of course, but-” 

 “So I’m asking you to believe in me again. Believe in me one more time, Jules. Believe that I can help her without falling back down. I know I can. I just need to you know it, too.” 

 Juliet hadn’t realized that she was crying, but the fact was that the changes that Logan had made in his life went far beyond health and habits. He’d let go of the resentment and the selfishness. He’d made room for compassion and love and a desire to do good. He’d become exactly what she always knew he could be, and she couldn’t stand in his way. “Okay, Logan. Okay. I trust you. I believe in you...and in her. I… I love you…” 

 “Love you too, Jules. It’s gonna be okay. It’s gonna be great. It’s gonna be hard but it’s gonna be great. You’ll see.” He got up then, and the smile that he kissed her cheek with felt like a swath of sunshine on her skin, his happiness contagious as she felt her own lips curve upwards. 

 It’s gonna be great. I believe you, Logan. 

 .  . .  .  .  .  . .  .

 Ten months later, you stood next to Logan with about twenty more pounds on your frame, a significant shine to your hair, a healthy complexion, and light dancing in your eyes as the Delos Philanthropic Fund opened The Door- a rehab and wellness center funded entirely by Delos Destinations. Beside you stood Juliet and her new husband Tony, and the four of you stepped down on ceremonial shovels to break ground for the center’s new facility. A few months ago there was no way that your frail and failing body would have had the strength to shovel sand, but you felt the blade of your shovel bite down into the hard packed dirt and scoop up a large rock. This rock can’t stop me. This rock’s not gonna stop anyone. This center is going to help so many people… and I get to be a part of it. I get to be a part of it because of… 

 You looked left and saw that he was already beaming at you. He held his shovel in one hand after the official ground breaking scoop, reaching out to wrap the other around yours. I get to be a part of it because of him. You looked to your right, where Tony had his arm around Juliet. And he gets to be a part of it because of her… Help. Everyone needs help sometimes. And now you’d be a part in making sure that others got that help. The past ten months had been the hardest in your life, and you knew it wasn’t over. But you remembered what Logan had said to you in the hospital, and you turned back to him. 

 “Logan? Remember when you said it would be worth it?” 

 He nodded, eyes on you and smile climbing up into them. 

 “You were right.”

    @something-tofightfor  @its-my-little-dumpster-fire@suchatinyinfinity @agent-bossypants @lexxierave @ymariejp @songtoyou @skwriddle @thesumofmychoices @obscurilicious @ilkaeliseb @belladonnarey 

[royal-duality]

I Am Strong ||Part 2 of Friends are Family||

(I’m actually fairly happy with the way this turned out.Now go forth and enjoy the story I spent my tears on!)

Word Count: 4,633

Pairings: Prinxiety and background Logicality

Warnings: Past abuse, Violence, panic attack, possible threat of rape

Summary: “Please… I’m not ready to lose you. Not now. Not like this. Don’t make me-” The sobs and cries that left his mouth cut off the rest of his sentence as he curled over the body of his lover that was now lying limp in his hold.Minutes passed as he screamed and cried.Minutes passed as scarlet began to soak his clothes as well.Minutes passed before a heart-wrenching scream tore through the streets.“VIRGIL!” 

Patton, Logan, Roman, and Virgil all sat at a booth at the bookstore/coffee shop. It had become a routine to meet here every Wednesday, so that even if someone was stressed and busy, they could still see each other.

The chatter between the four had begun to slow before Patton decided to pick it back up again, starting with Virgil, “How has your day been, kiddo?”

This seemed to startle the emo boy as he jumped in his seat and stared at Patton with wide eyes. Silence overcame the group as Virgil stared at Patton in horror.

“What?”

A moment passed in silence before everyone, but Virgil began to laugh. “Oh, my goodness, you should have seen your face Verge!” Roman spoke past the bouts of laughter erupting from his lips.

A red flush coated the dark boy’s cheeks as he ducked his head in embarrassment. Virgil muttered a quick, “Shut up!” before slumping in his seat and pouting.

Paton giggled at this before reaching over to ruffle the others hair, leading Virgil to let out a hiss and bat at his hand. Roman rolled his eyes at his boyfriend’s antics, “I swear one of these days I’m gonna have to tell someone I am dating a cat instead of an emo nightmare!”  He huffed dramatically.

“Be careful Princey, I’m pretty sure you can get arrested for bestiality-” Roman let out a shriek of indignation at Virgil’s statement. Virgil cast a smug look at the other before sticking his tongue out for good measure.

Logan glanced between the two before furrowing his brows. “I still find it astonishing that the two of you are courting and have accomplished not killing or gravely wounding one another yet. It is quite befuddling.”

Virgil snorted and sipped at his coffee. He left the three to decipher Logan’s statement and convert it to simple English. A small smile slipped onto his face as he reminisced about how the four of them ended up here.

He remembers his childhood. The abuse he had endured just to live to see tomorrow. The cruel words spat at him that held him back from being who he really was. All those things led him to wanting to end his life several times.

There were so many times where he felt as though there was no point. He thought that his past would become his future, and there would be no reprieve from the emotional and physical wounds he would suffer from.

Outside of his thoughts, Virgil heard Patton, Logan and Roman break into a fit of laughter. Smiling fondly, he watched as they teased each other.

Now he has these three. Now he’s happier than he’s ever been, and if years of abuse and harsh words I what it takes to reach this moment… He would go through it all again.

Virgil was shaken from his thoughts by the silence of his friends and focused on reality. The three of them were looking at Virgil with worried stares.

“Virge?” Turning his gaze, he raised his eyebrow at his boyfriend. “You okay sweetheart?” Roman’s voice was filled with worry as he reached over to cup Virgil’s face in his hands. He felt a thumb swipe under his eyes and only then realized why everyone was so concerned.

Virgil grinned before nodding and letting out a half laugh half sob. “I’m more than okay. I’m so happy!” He heard the other let out sighs of relief and watched as Roman’s gaze became soft and warm.

Roman’s hands dropped, however Virgil felt his hand become enveloped in one of Roman’s own. He glanced at his boyfriend and cast him a small smile before returning to look at Logan and Patton, who had begun to talk about school clubs and activities.

Yeah…. Life was great.

Just then his phone rang. Logan and Patton had looked at him in confusion considering Virgil didn’t really interact with anyone outside of their little family.

A confused frown found its way onto Virgil’s face as he reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out. He checked the caller ID to see it was his boss calling. Virgil’s entire being froze before he rushed to answer it.

“H-Hello?” Dammit. Stop stuttering, I’m sure it’s nothing.

He could feel the others watching him as he waited for a response which wasn’t long. “Virgil, I need you to come into work today. Susie just quit without notice and were short-staffed. I need you here within half an hour.” Virgil tried to stammer out a reply as his boss talked, but cut himself off as his boss’s tone held a sense of finality.

“O-ok sir.” He gained his ability of speech back and replied before hearing a click signaling his boss had hung up. Virgil’s gaze was blank as his brain struggled to process information.

“Virgil?” Patton’s voice rang out, pulling him from his thoughts. Virgil’s eyes widened as he stood up hurriedly and began gathering his stuff.

“I gotta go!” His mind was racing frantically as he began to run out of the Diner but was caught by the wrist. Looking back, he saw Roman looking at him curiously and glanced over his shoulder to see both Logan and Patton watching the scene as well.

“Virgil, what’s going on?” Roman’s voice was filled with concern and Virgil felt his heart clench at the thought that he was probably stressing his boyfriend out again.

Virgil glanced at his phone to see he only had about 20 minutes left. Shit.

Virgil groaned before trying to convey his problem to his boyfriend. “L-Look I’m sorry t-to cut our m-meeting s-short, but my boss just c-called me and I have to be a-at w-work in less than half a h-hour.” Virgil felt his patience wear as his anxiety levels rose.

He saw Roman’s brows furrow as an unnamed expression crossed his features before he felt the grip on his wrist loosen. He was about to rush out of the small café, when he felt strong arms wrap around his waist and a small kiss was placed on the top of his head. Virgil froze and looked at Roman who was smiling softly down at Virgil.

“Be safe.” Virgil stared at him for a moment before nodding with a slight quirk of his lips. Roman let him go and Virgil made a dash outside, beginning to run towards his work.

Virgil sighed as he checked the clock. Closing time. Finally. He stood up straight and stretched his arms upwards before hearing the satisfying pop and crackle of his joints.

Looking around Virgil noticed that the place was empty, most of his co-workers were either in the back or had already gone home. He took a deep breath before walking around the tables to get to the back room where his stuff was.

His body was sore, and his brain was lagging as he changed out of his work outfit and back into his normal clothing. He donned his patchwork hoodie that Roman had gotten him as well as grey skinny jeans and a black tank top.

He quickly glanced around the room checking to make sure everyone was gone before grabbing his keys and heading out the back door, locking it as he left. Time to go home and fail at attempting to get sleep.

Virgil slung his bag over his shoulder as he began walking down the street. The sky was dark, and the full moon shone down on the peaceful town. All but a few of the residents locked inside their homes where they were safe from the darkness. The stars twinkled in the sky, giving proof of their existence as the wind softly sang its own lullaby.

Virgil felt his form relax in the serenity of the town that was usually bustling with traffic and people. His footsteps echoed through the empty streets as though there were more people pacing the streets than there truly was.

It was calming. Unlike most people Virgil loved the night time. It’s a time for peace and reprieve from the day’s energetic events. A time to settle down and spend time with the one’s you love.

Virgil froze. Footsteps. There were footsteps echoing and they weren’t his own. There was a shuffling sound behind him as he turned to see who was behind him, however as he turned around he was forced against the wall of a shop.

Virgil felt his anxiety pick up as his head slammed against the brick wall. “What the hell?” He turned his gaze to glare at the man, but froze as he saw the glint of metal. It looked to be a pistol. “W-Woah, okay. C-Calm down d-” Virgil tried to talk, but was caught off by the other guy.

His voice was rough and unstable as he spoke. “Shut up!” Virgil felt his breath hitch in fear as he felt the man press him harder against the wall.

“I-Look whatever it is you w-want, take it. Y-You want it, i-it’s y-yours.” Virgil’s words were shaky as he attempted to reason with the man, meanwhile trying to steady his breathing.

He startled slightly as he felt the man search his pockets and forced himself to hold back a whimper when he felt the guy maneuver his hoodie off his trembling form. He loved that hoodie, but he’s pretty sure Roman would kick his ass if he got shot over a hoodie. Although Roman could never understand the importance of that simple clothing item to Virgil.

He felt the man start to take his shirt and off and that was where he decided enough was enough. “H-Hey!”

The man hissed a, “Shut up!” at him before slamming him against the wall once again and continuing to take off his clothes. Virgil was terrified. The man didn’t seem to be planning to rape him, however nothing about this situation was really calming to him.

Virgil heard the rumble of a familiar car and nearly cried with relief as the man froze. He heard a car door shut and went to yell for his boyfriend, but instead yelped as the man grabbed him and forced the pistol against his head.

“Virgil!” Count on Prince CharmingTM to save the day. Virgil stared at the form of his boyfriend who seemed frantic at the sight in front of him.

The man dug the pistol harder against his head as he glared at Roman. Virgil felt his breathing become heavy as he struggled to breathe at all.  He could feel the man searching for a way out of the situation he got himself into.

He watched as Roman held his hands up in a surrender position as he slowly crept forward as the man shuffled backwards taking Virgil with him. “Let’s just calm down. Nobody needs to get hurt.” Roman’s voice held steady, but Virgil could sense the underlying panic lacing the words.

Virgil felt the man’s grip loosen slightly as he felt him nod. He internally sighed in relief at the fact that the man was able to be reasoned with. He could hear Roman do the same as his form relaxed just a bit.

Just as soon as the calm had washed over them it had left as the man shoved Virgil, who stumbled forward. He heard Roman shout as he ran to catch him before a gunshot rang through the streets, receding footsteps echoing after it. He felt a sharp pain in his side as he fell forward, bracing himself for impact, only to be swept into the arms of his boyfriend

“Virgil!” Something bad happened. He’s never heard his boyfriend sound so distressed. What happened though? Virgil felt his brows scrunch up as he struggled to remember the most recent past events. There was darkness. He remembered a glint in the darkness, likely a gun or knife. Virgil’s stomach dropped.

Darkness. Weapon. Screaming. Someone was screaming.

Virgil felt his body shake as he tried to sit up, but was forced down by a pair of hands. His mind was on overload as he panicked. He couldn’t be back! He had escaped years ago and had survived and met Roman and-and… Virgil let out a loud cry as his thoughts spiraled downwards.

(Switching Pov’s for a bit)

Roman felt his heart shatter at the sound of a gunshot. He saw Virgil’s mind struggle to catch up to his body as he fell forwards. Roman saw the culprit run away as he dove forward and cradled Virgil’s form in his arms. “Virgil!”

He could feel him trembling as he attempted to soothe him. He took off his jacket and pressed it against the wound which only served to force a whimper from Virgil who struggled in his grip. “You’re gonna be alright Virgil. I called the police beforehand and they’re gonna bring an ambulance and they’re gonna fix you right up baby!”

He watched as Virgil’s gaze seemed to become more and more distant. It was as though he wasn’t in the same world as Roman was but instead in a whole other universe.

Roman continued to whisper calming words to his boyfriend who had begun to calm down slightly. Roman felt himself calm slightly at the prospect that Virgil wouldn’t injure himself further. However, before that thought could settle he felt Virgil begin to convulse and try to get up.

Roman panicked and held him down, which seemed to only serve to cause his love more panic.

“No! Come on Virgil, you need to calm down!” He tried to steady the convulsing body in his arms.

“Come on baby, stay with me! Tell me how stupid I look with my frizzy hair! Laugh at my face or tell me I’m over reacting and that you’re okay. Please!” His words were choked by sobs ripping through his chest.

“Please… I’m not ready to lose you. Not now. Not like this. Don’t make me-” The sobs and cries that left his mouth cut off the rest of his sentence as he curled over the body of his lover that was now lying limp in his hold.

Minutes passed as he screamed and cried.

Minutes passed as scarlet began to soak his clothes as well.

Minutes passed before a heart-wrenching scream tore through the streets.

“VIRGIL!”

(And back to Virgil)

Virgil awoke to sunlight filtering through the window. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked around confused. Where was he?

“Virgil!” A loud yell echoed through the house, forcing Virgil to hurriedly get up. He knew that voice. He also knew that he was supposed to be up way earlier, before the sun had even arisen. Which meant he was in trouble.

He could feel his form, shake in fear as he heard pounding footsteps heading for his room. No doubt his father coming to punish him.

The door flew open, startling Virgil who let out a whimper of fear and bowed his head in submission. “I-I’m sorry fa-” His words were cut off by the harsh movement of his father backhanding him. He felt his body fly to the side as a stinging pain flared on the side of his face.

“You were told to be up by 3:00, does the sun fucking rise before 3:00, brat!?” His voice was rough and cold as he spoke to Virgil. His glare was penetrating all of Virgil’s defenses causing him to struggle with forming a response.

Finally finding his words, Virgil spoke up, “N-No sir.”

“Then why the hell did I come in to find you being a fucking lazy sack of shit on your bed, still asleep!?” Virgil felt his entire being freeze, unable to come up with a response.

A kick to his stomach reminded him that his father was waiting rather impatiently for an answer. Virgil looked up and saw the door was open behind his father. This was his chance.

“W-Well you see, sir-” Virgil began to speak before he sprang through the gap between his father’s legs and ran through the door. He expected to be met with the hallway, but instead found that he was now outside in their backyard. There was a fire going and his dad was at the grill.

Virgil felt his face scrunch up as he looked at the scene in confusion. He was just in his room and now he was-

But that doesn’t make sense!

He breathed out a sigh and continued to watch the scene. He remembered this day. It was the reason he doesn’t trust fires of any kind.

“Virgil, go get the fire pokers from the shed, will you?” His mom was in a good mood today. Or more likely, she was pretending to be in a good mood so that nobody judged her.

He replied with a, “Yes ma’am.” before rushing to he shed and grabbing the fire poker. He then closed the shed and locked it knowing that if he didn’t, the punishments would be severe.

Virgil ran back with the pokers in hand before handing them over to his mother who gave an amused smile. He cast a shaky smile back at her before turning around to see that the sky had darkened, and it was now night.

The fire was roaring, and Virgil found that he was panting heavily. He heard pounding footsteps and soon found himself lying on the ground. A scream slipped past his lips as he felt a boot press down on his back.

“No! Let me go! Please, I didn’t mean to!” His mind was frantic as he tried to sort through the current even happening. His breathing was rapid as he tried to push himself up to escape. He heard fire crackling and looked up to see his mom coming towards him with a fire poker.

Virgil froze as his eyes widened before he began to thrash wildly, attempting to free himself and avoid the torture he was about to endure. He heard a chuckle come from his mother as she held the fire poker above her head. “You brought this upon yourself Virgil.”

Those were the last words he heard before she swung the burning metal down, piercing his shoulder as he screamed in agony. Stop. Stop! Stop! STOP! STOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP- Darkness.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Worthless.”

Beep.

“Troublemaker.”

Beep.

“Petty.”

Beep.

“Man-whore.”

Beep.

“Even your parents can’t love you.”

Beep.

“You’ll never be worth more than the dirt on my shoe.”

Beep. Beep.

“Just die.”

Beep. Beep.

“Kill yourself.”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Nobody will even notice.”

Virgil’s eyes snapped open to a bright white room. He heard beeping to his left and turned to see a heart monitor that was beeping almost as rapidly as his breathing.

Where were his parents? Why was he in the hospital. He pushed himself up and gasped in pain.

Push through. Get up and find out what’s going on.

Grunting, Virgil ignored the sharp stabbing pains in his side and pushed himself up. He heard hurried footsteps outside the door and panicked, throwing himself into a fighting position. Like hell he was gonna let himself be brought down in a fucking hospital.

The door burst open, causing Virgil to tense. Doctors filed in staring at him in concern as a couple nurses started towards him, but backed off when he hissed at them. His brain was working in overdrive as he listened to their whispers. Some words and phrases stuck out more than others, like sedative, panicking, cause harm, etc.

Virgil’s frantic searching stopped as he locked eyes with one of the doctors. The two seemed to be at a stalemate as they stared each other down. Virgil refused to submit to anyone again. “I’m not going back.”

His eyes widened as he heard his own voice. It was much deeper than before…. How long was he in the hospital? How long were his parent’s waiting to punish him again?

“Son, do you know where you are.” The doctor stepped forward with his hands raised in surrender. Virgil narrowed his eyes at the man and scoffed. Did he think he was an idiot?

“I figured I was in a white forest of some fairy tale land but guessing by your choice of clothing I’d assume I’m in a hospital.” The tension in the air became thicker as he felt nervous gazes on his form from all around the room. The number of eyes on him finally seemed to register causing him to tense up more. He felt another sharp pain from his side and winced.

The doctor nodded in patient understanding of his answer before flicking his eyes down to Virgil’s side. “Good. Do you know why you’re here?”

At the question Virgil could feel his body freeze in sheer terror. What should he tell them? Did they know the truth? “U-Uh, w-what’d my parents say?” Wrong answer. He watched as the doctor shared a knowing glance with the other staff.

A sigh slipped past the doctor’s lips before he spoke the words that caused Virgil’s life to come crashing down around him. “Sir, your boyfriend, Roman Prince, called the police at 10:51 4 days ago about a mugging. The police arrived at 11:16 with an ambulance. You had been taken in for a bullet wound in your side.” It was real. The meeting with Roman. The friendships he created with Logan and Patton. The relationship he was committed to. It was all real. He had escaped.

Virgil felt his knees give out from underneath him as he collapsed to the ground. His eyes were glossed over with unshed tears as his body shook with tremors. He made it through the pain and abuse. He was safe.

With that final thought he began to sob as the doctors and nurses pulled him up and onto the bed before giving him a sedative. He watched in glee as the darkness surrounded his vision. He knew he wouldn’t be going anywhere. He was safe.

Virgil heard whispers surrounding him and slowly opened his eyes. “Guys, he’s waking up!” A crash sounded, causing Virgil to fully wake as he hurriedly sat up only to be pushed down gently by a set of hands. “Shh, calm down, it’s only Patton.” Roman.

Virgil turned to Roman and flung himself at his boyfriend. He felt strong arms embrace him as he sobbed into his lover’s shoulder. He didn’t know why he was crying, he was just glad to be in Roman’s embrace once more.

He heard the other hush him as he cooed calming words to him. He tightened his grip not wanting to let go, meanwhile the two friends stood aside watching the scene with sad eyes.

Virgil felt his sobs taper off into sniffles as he eventually began to calm down. The sniffles soon stopped as well as the two just held each other in a gentle embrace. Both afraid to let go as though if they loosened their grip the other would disappear.

Someone cleared their throat startling the two of them. Virgil glanced over to see Patton and Logan watching the scene. He felt his face heat up as he pulled back, instead holding Roman’s hand in a tight grip. Patton’s face settled into a smirk as he raised an eyebrow at the two while Logan settled for a reassuring smile in their direction.

“It’s about time you woke up, kiddo! We were all worried you got lost in dreamland!” Patton’s voice was teasing, but Virgil could hear the underlying worry in his tone. Virgil watched as the bubbly boy shifted between his feet and smiled fondly before opening his arms for a hug.

He watched as Patton stared at him in awe before a large smile broke out across his face and he ran forward practically diving onto Virgil. He wrapped his arms around the usually bubbly boy who was crying into his chest. “I’m so happy you’re okay Virge! Never do that again!”

Virgil chuckled a bit as he rubbed Patton’s back reassuringly. “I won’t Patton. Never again. I promise.” Logan looked like he was about to protest Virgil’s statement, however stopped as Roman held a finger to his lips, signaling him to shut up.

“While I believe a promise will not do much… I should hope that you will strive to avoid getting yourself into any more serious interactions. Especially ones that have a chance of you or anyone else becoming fatally wounded.” Logan’s words were clinical but still served to make Virgil smile.

“You got it teach.” Virgil smirked at seeing Logan’s eyebrow twitch at his remark and watched as the other sighed and rubbed his forehead.

“On second thought, feel free to engage in dangerous situations. I could use the peace and tranquility.” Virgil laughed at that as Patton and Roman made offended noises.

Maybe life still had problems and maybe everything wasn’t perfect. But it couldn’t get much better than this.

3 months later….

The group of four walked through a cemetery in silence. Their faces were cold as the approached to tombstones that held part of a broken family. Virgil nodded to the others before approaching the tombstones and sitting on the ground in front of them.

Virgil took a deep breath before beginning, “I know it’s been a long time since I last talked to either of you. To be fair, I don’t owe you anything, not even in death.” He took a shuddering breath as his hands fiddled with the sleeves of his jacket.

“I’m not gonna lie to you. I don’t think I can ever forgive you for what you did to me. You hurt me so much more than just physical scars. That’s not something I can forgive. That’s why I left your family.” He felt tears well in his eyes as he sniffled slightly.

“However, it’s thanks to you that I am where I am. It’s because of you that I met three wonderful and just perfect, amazing people that I call my family. I don’t think I’ll ever be okay. Not like I was before it all began. But I know I’ll be okay.” A deep breath in as he struggled to keep his composure. “I know you’re not proud of me. You never were, no matter what I did. But there’s a few things I want you to know. The first being that I don’t care what you think about who I am. Your opinion means nothing to me anymore.”

A breeze blew gently as clouds floated across the bright blue sky.

“I also want you to know that I did it. I survived years of your abuse and neglect and I made it. I fought against you and the legal system by myself to become free from your clutches. I got through life on my own with all the odds stacked against me. I learned that your words were filled with lies, because I was strong. I am still strong. I’m not perfect by any means, and I have made plenty of mistakes. But none of that matters because I got through life on my own without yours or anyone else’s help.”

He took a brief moment of reprieve before letting a small smile slip onto his face. “I made it this far alone. But not anymore. It’s gonna be a long bumpy road, but I’ve got three family members backing me up the entire way. So, yeah, I’m gonna get hurt, but pain is temporary. I’ll be okay. I promise I will.”

He stood up, brushing the dirt and grass off his jeans. “Goodbye, Roy and Miranda James. I hope hell treats you better than you treated me.” With that Virgil turned around and walked straight into the waiting arms of his family.

“We’ve got you Virgil. Welcome Home.”

[jewishangus]

(I'm not even sure if this is the place to ask, sorry if this is a weird question haha) I'm a fanfiction writer and now that angus has been confirmed jewish I don't want to ignore that part of him in my future works. But I know literally nothing about what it means to be jewish. As a jewish fanfiction writer yourself, do you have any advice about how I could respectfully write a jewish angus?

no its a great question!!!! dont worry about asking - if anything, im super glad you’re looking to create good representation!! (and humbled that you’re here asking me? fuck)

tl;dr: being respectful really just means putting thought into your character, and treating judaism like you would any other facet of someone’s personality. most of the time, it won’t be that prominent! but if you don’t think about it, you’re going to end up writing it badly.

under the readmore, however: how to approach thinking about judaism and working it into a character.

ok first of all, if you’re not jewish and know nothing about judaism, there’s a couple of things you should get.

first: ethnicity is key.i’ll leave you to do the googling on the terms - the key to all good representation is research - but if youre european/american, you most likely adhere to a denomination (which, for the numerical majority of jews, is either orthodox, conservative, or reform), if you’re from the middle east/north africa/actual real africa/far east, or live in israel now, you’re likely not to. 

second: surprisingly, politics dont matter. tradition, however, does.you can be liberal and orthodox and conservative and reform, even though orthodox judaism is the more traditional/patriarchal in nature of the two denominations. but you’ve probably heard of if not seen fiddler on the roof - its incredibly hard to stray against what you’ve been raised when youre jewish, mostly because most of your jewish identity comes from your parents and your history! a lot of people do, especially on the political front. but even if people differ from their parents politically, they might not do so jewishly.

third: jews are a nation as well as a religion.jewish culture exists (though it’s different for people of different ethnicities), a jewish language exists, a jewish history exists (even though schools suck at teaching all of it), and jewish national sovereignty also exists and is important - hence, israel. at the same time, a jewish biblical canon exists, and jewish books of law exist, and those two have to coexist together. for some jews, both are equally important. some prioritize one over the other, and do so in different ways.

last: stereotypes are…. actually kind of important.jews love to argue. true. jewish overbearing moms exist. also true. jews control all the money in the world? actually, we joke about that a lot, but sadly that isn’t true. however, for a nation with only ~15 million people, you’ll find us in a lot of high places; we’ll attribute that mostly to our brains, though.when you’re writing stereotypes, think about them. every jewish person thinks about them differently and treats them differently. people who grew up in more of a jewish bubble tend to be more comfortable with them than those who arent.whatever you do, though, dont avoid them like the plague. a lot of them are true, and cute, and a lot of them are something id love to see in fic! as an example, take a line from one of my wips: “So, deep down, Davenport knew it wasn’t a coincidence that when he collected the seven, they all turned out to be Jewish. It’s the Jew-dar, Merle jokes sometimes, or the “you were looking for smart people, what’d you expect?” that Taako said once, but their captain’s more serious than that. He thinks it’s destiny.”

there’s two different stereotypes in there: jews are smart, and the jew-dar, which is more a pun off of the gay-dar than anything. and yet, they’re used light-heartedly, for a laugh that doesn’t poke fun! kind of in the same way angus was confirmed to be jewish.

ok, now that that’s done with, a disclaimer that i implied heavily in the last bit but is very worthy to say outright:

every jew is different! 

when you’re writing a jewish character, this is the most important thing to keep in mind. a person can’t be just jewish, they’re jewish and [insert race/ethnicity] and [insert gender] and [insert age] and [insert socio-economic status] and [insert sexuality] and i can just go on and on and on, because even the men in black hats in nyc’s diamond district have a story and other facets of their personality.

so the key to write a jewish character is not to throw everything else in the garbage - in fact do exactly the opposite. decide everything else first, and then use that to reverse-engineer their judaism.now, this is true even for people who see judaism as their salient identity, like me! even if judaism is the most important thing in their lives, it’s that along with everything else that builds character.

let’s try it with angus, shall we?

okay, so who is angus?

-he’s a boy-he’s 11-he is, for whatever reason, mostly disconnected from his birth family-he loves to learn - an academic at heart-he’s fancy - his birth family was probably rich, or at least he knows his manners.

and if you wanna do some world-building you can - how do jews in faerun deal with magic/other gods/the astral plane/etc? thats a whole other post, but it’s interesting to think about in regards to angus’s psyche.

okay, let’s do this:

we don’t know angus’s race. if he’s white, what denomination does he slide into, if any? if he’s black, he’s either ethiopian or his family converted at some point in his history or he’s an extremely rare character. either way, his generation is probably like. one of the first to integrate into modern judaism. what’s that like? 

he’s a kid. his judaism is going to change over time! how serious is he about it now? is it a source of fun for him, a source of serious learning, or a mix of both? does he make sure to follow the laws, clearing his dorm of bread on passover or fasting on yom kippur or keeping shabbat/kosher, or does he just light candles for hanukkah and eat dairy on midsummer?

where is his family, and why would they have left him? the days of ditching your kid in fear of him growing up bad have been behind us for millennia. if his family is shitty or dead, where’s the extensive community that usually backs up kids of his character? does he still have a network? does he go back and visit?

he found a new family in the bureau and the ipre - are they jewish? do they support him or just leave him be?

he is a boy genius, in most understandings of the term. does he speak hebrew? know torah trope or prayer or jewish law? or is he more of a jewish history buff? or does he like secular subjects better, struggling over yet appreciating the old text yet turning his attention to something else? judaism seriously endorses academia - is that where he got his love for it from?

if he’s fancy, is he traditional? does he wear tzizit under his clothes or was his family not that jewish when they got rich?

the answers to all of these questions are going to create the kind of jew you want angus to be!

and yet - 

you can incorporate all of this character-building into angus and end up writing him the same way as you have this whole time - it all depends on the scene you’re writing him in.

your angus could be the same except he interrupts to ask a question about a religion/custom that’s different than his own. he could be the same except fixing the tzizit under his clothes is a fidget of his. you know what? his judaism is probably only going to come up in little snippets anyway - he could be asking taako which ones are the meat forks and which are the dairy ones, or magnus could play keep-away with his kippah, or lucretia could find him in his room studying torah. or maybe it comes up in conversation? maybe someone calls him a genius and he blushes and says he kinda struggles with his hebrew homework sometimes, and then the conversation moves on as if he hadn’t mentioned judaism at all.

so what do these questions answer, exactly? whether those snippets, those pieces of judaism that work his way into his daily life, are even there to begin with. 

does it come up in conversation? does he spend his free time studying torah? does he wear a kippah or tzizit? does he care about meat and dairy forks? does he end up going on an extreme teen adventure and ask a bunch of questions or is he worried about merle preaching? 

those are up to you, and those decisions are what im working to educate on in this post.

anyways, that’s about all i got! if you wanna find out more about judaism, feel free to ask - i was trying to avoid giving you a crash course on my religion and more focusing on how to incorporate it into a character, but if the former was what you were looking for, hit me up and ill write another 1500 words for you!

hope i could help, and happy writing!