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Strangely He Feels At Home In This Place Fanfic

strangely he feels at home in this place fanfic

Title: strangely he feels at home in this place

Summary: Virgil finds himself in a different reality with no way of returning back home. Strangely, he’s mostly okay with this

Word-Count: 540

Pairings: platonic prinixety

Warnings: spiders, parental favoritism

I found a random snippet of dialogue in my wips when i should be writing something else and couldn’t help finally doing something with it

How is Virgil’s day going, you might ask? Well, on the scale of one to oh-my-god-my-brother-transported-me-to-another-reality-and-I-have-no-way-of-getting-back-home, it’s going great. Real swell.

I mean, really it could’ve been a lot worse. There could’ve been no one to hear his screams as he tried escaping the clutches of a giant spider. Virgil liked spiders. He even had a pet tarantula named Susie back home. But it is very easy to be afraid of anything that’s ten times the size of you and looks ready to devour you whole.

Instead, a strange elf-like man saved him at the last second. Or at least, he appeared elf-like, with his pointy ears and graceful poise. Despite his numerous writings, Virgil hasn’t met an actual elf before. He hadn’t planned on it. Nor had he planned being his brother’s pet guinea pig but here we are.

The elf turns out to be named Roman, a name that is far more normal sounding than Virgil expected to hear. Upon hearing Virgil’s plight, he offers for him to stay in his abode at once.

“Wait, you actually believe me?” Virgil raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, someone shows up from a different world every other moon cycle,” Roman waves him off, “Now come! You must be hungry–I will prepare you a feast back at my house!”

Virgil’s stomach growls, “Well you aren’t wrong about that.”

“So, are you a warrior for your people?” Roman asks as they walk down the supposed route to his home. Virgil gives him a double take because uh, did he not see him screaming? Running from the spider as fast as his legs could possibly take him?

“Oh no,” Virgil chuckles awkwardly, “I’m a writer.”

“A writer?” Roman tilts his head, “What’s that?”

“It’s, well,” Virgil stammers, almost embarrassed to admit, “I come up with stories and record them so that other people can read them.”

“You’re a storyteller?!” Roman shrieks with excitement, “you’re so young–your people must honor you greatly.”

Now it’s Virgil’s turn to be confused.

“Um, what do you mean?”

“As a storyteller you inspire hope, impart wisdom, produce laughter with your stories–surely your people look onto you with reverence and respect!”

They in fact do the opposite of that. His people see his writing as a foolish prospect. They berate him for his chosen profession. “Why couldn’t you have gone into STEM like your brother?” They ask, “Writing will get you nowhere in life!”

In a way, they were right. It was his brother’s science and not writing that got him transported to this world. A world that apparently cherishes and nurtures stories rather than kill them.

“Are you alright, dear storyteller?” Roman says softly. He’s standing in front of Virgil, frowning.

“I, um, I just–” Virgil begins, never being quite as good with verbal words as he is with written words, “Let’s just say my world doesn’t hold the same view as yours.”

“What?!” Roman exclaims, before bursting into a very long, winding rant. So long that would take up at least a page or two to write it all down. As he rambles about the sanctity of stories and their importance, Virgil begins to smile.

Maybe he’ll never find a way back home. That thought should terrify him, but it doesn’t. Because home has already found him.

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