beer_good_foamy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
beer_good_foamy) wrote2018-01-25 11:24 pm
beer_good_foamy) wrote2018-01-25 11:24 pm
Fic: Crumbs (BtVS/Grimm bros. crossover)
Here's a fic for More Joy Day!
Back when I signed up for the Which Willow Ficathon, one of the prompts I picked was "Willow is involved with a vampire/werewolf/witch from another show/book/movie." I ended up doing a different prompt which ended up as The Bottom of the Garden, but I did get an idea for the other prompt that I didn't want to waste. So here goes. I think it's rather sweet.
Title: Crumbs
Author: Beer Good (beer_good_foamy)
Fandom: Buffy/Grimm Brothers Fairytales; set post-series
Pairing: pre-Willow/The Witch
Rating: PG13
Word count: ~1100
Summary: While hanging out in a chatroom, Willow runs into a somewhat older witch. Rather a lot older, in fact. But as it turns out, they have some old antagonists in common.
Crumbs
It took her a few years to get the Internet. It was hard to keep up with how quickly things changed; sometimes it seemed like she'd only had television, or even radio, for just a few months. But on one of her rare forays online, using a library computer, she discovered chatrooms. She was puzzled by them at first, until she found #witches. She hadn't even said that word out loud in… really? Hm.
She lurked a lot. There didn't seem to be a whole lot of actual witches in the chatroom (what the devil is a "technopagan" anyway?), and the ones who were only reminded her of how much the craft had changed since her day. Love spells, sure, but she wasn't sure the gods appreciated that kind of language. Spellbooks that mostly seemed like an excuse to sell expensive stationery. Also, who would ever think a microwave could replace a cauldron?
That said, there were some spells she dared use. She'd been focusing on the one long one for so long, the ritual every morning that took so much out of her, that she wasn't sure how much power she could spare. Little things; a blessing for her houseplants, a layer of silence on the ceiling when the upstairs neighbours had a fight, that sort of thing. The following week, she'd check her face in the mirror closely every morning, to see if the spell still held up. All these years, you'd think she knew every little wrinkle perfectly.
Then one day, there was a question in the chatroom she actually wanted to answer. Very basic history of witchcraft question, especially since it came from a poster called SunnydRed who usually seemed to know what she was talking about, but then again she'd just seen four people discuss whether anyone had a colour photograph of the Salem witch trials so her expectations were pretty low. And SunnydRed asked for replies in DM, which made it easier. They wrote her back almost immediately. Hey, thanks a lot! TBH I kinda knew that, but I've noticed you lurking and I was hoping you'd respond to this. Lotta wannabes here, huh?
They usually talked in DMs from then on. With some of the questions Willow asked, she had to be careful not to let slip who she was. Still, she wasn't sure just how much SunnydRed - or Willow, as she introduced herself the second time they chatted - actually knew.
Weide, she thought. (Hadn't spoken German in a long time either.) Like the trees behind the house that had survived the fire. She'd tried to find the place where her house had stood on Google Earth (surely that was magic?). Going by the bend in the river and how long it had taken her to walk from there, it was now an apartment complex outside Pforzheim. Hundreds of people living in her old glade. She wondered if they'd got rid of the smell.
Their talks became easier, especially after Willow admitted that she had actively been searching for people like her; not that I want to reduce you only to that, obviously, but we've found most of the slayers already and I figure there are others out there that need finding too, and… It seemed like a good idea, but maybe not for her. Apart from mentioning it once or twice, though, Willow didn't push; she genuinely seemed to want to talk to her, not just recruit her.
Then one day; Listen, I'm going to be in New York next week, wanna meet up for coffee? She suggested a bar instead. (Never could stand the smell of fresh bread.)
Willow turned out to be pretty much what she'd expected from their online discussions; red hair, very enthusiastic, and very insistent on hugging. (Good at it, too.) Also, very talkative; for the first fifteen minutes she could barely get a word in while Willow gave her a rundown of how she got here. Not that she minded. She talked funny. And … what was that about vampires? And a snake, and … OK, that went pretty dark pretty fast. And yet there she was, in a bright top and looking really excited to meet her. "So anyway, sorry, I know I babble. Shutting up now. What's your story?"
So she decided. She knew she had enough power for a quick getaway spell if it came to that. She pulled up her sleeve and showed Willow the scarred, burned skin underneath, all the parts she couldn't heal if she wanted her face and hands to look the same for howevermany years it had been. Once she'd done that (without looking at Willow's face) the rest came easy; telling her about the kids, how she only barely escaped the oven alive, about the way they'd turned everyone in town against her, how she'd been chased from town to town, never daring to stay anywhere for more than a few years, until cities became big enough to disappear in, until she became a fairytale to scare children with. "And well… here I am."
"OK, so… Wow." Willow stared at her in recognition, but not in fear or disgust. "You're… her. Cool. I mean, I kinda figured you were, I don't mean old old, but… wow." Then she grinned and took a sip of her drink. "But y'know, we killed them."
"What?"
"Hansel and Gretel. Turns out they're actually demons, except not anymore, because they're dead. We, well, mostly a friend of mine, but I kinda helped, they pulled the same thing on our town and we were going to get burned at the stake but instead we, or she, killed them and broke the spell." Willow took her hand. "I mean, I'm not saying the world is a perfect paradise or anything, but at least that particular fear demon is pffft."
Now it was her turn to stare at Willow. Her head was spinning as if she'd had more than the one drink. "So… you got out of people thinking you'd killed some children by actually killing them?"
"Huh. When you put it that way… Well, I guess some stereotypes about us witches are true after all." Willow grinned.
Us witches. She couldn't help but like the sound of that. "Listen… Do you want another drink? It seems I have some catching up to do."
Back when I signed up for the Which Willow Ficathon, one of the prompts I picked was "Willow is involved with a vampire/werewolf/witch from another show/book/movie." I ended up doing a different prompt which ended up as The Bottom of the Garden, but I did get an idea for the other prompt that I didn't want to waste. So here goes. I think it's rather sweet.
Title: Crumbs
Author: Beer Good (
beer_good_foamy)Fandom: Buffy/Grimm Brothers Fairytales; set post-series
Pairing: pre-Willow/The Witch
Rating: PG13
Word count: ~1100
Summary: While hanging out in a chatroom, Willow runs into a somewhat older witch. Rather a lot older, in fact. But as it turns out, they have some old antagonists in common.
Crumbs
It took her a few years to get the Internet. It was hard to keep up with how quickly things changed; sometimes it seemed like she'd only had television, or even radio, for just a few months. But on one of her rare forays online, using a library computer, she discovered chatrooms. She was puzzled by them at first, until she found #witches. She hadn't even said that word out loud in… really? Hm.
She lurked a lot. There didn't seem to be a whole lot of actual witches in the chatroom (what the devil is a "technopagan" anyway?), and the ones who were only reminded her of how much the craft had changed since her day. Love spells, sure, but she wasn't sure the gods appreciated that kind of language. Spellbooks that mostly seemed like an excuse to sell expensive stationery. Also, who would ever think a microwave could replace a cauldron?
That said, there were some spells she dared use. She'd been focusing on the one long one for so long, the ritual every morning that took so much out of her, that she wasn't sure how much power she could spare. Little things; a blessing for her houseplants, a layer of silence on the ceiling when the upstairs neighbours had a fight, that sort of thing. The following week, she'd check her face in the mirror closely every morning, to see if the spell still held up. All these years, you'd think she knew every little wrinkle perfectly.
Then one day, there was a question in the chatroom she actually wanted to answer. Very basic history of witchcraft question, especially since it came from a poster called SunnydRed who usually seemed to know what she was talking about, but then again she'd just seen four people discuss whether anyone had a colour photograph of the Salem witch trials so her expectations were pretty low. And SunnydRed asked for replies in DM, which made it easier. They wrote her back almost immediately. Hey, thanks a lot! TBH I kinda knew that, but I've noticed you lurking and I was hoping you'd respond to this. Lotta wannabes here, huh?
They usually talked in DMs from then on. With some of the questions Willow asked, she had to be careful not to let slip who she was. Still, she wasn't sure just how much SunnydRed - or Willow, as she introduced herself the second time they chatted - actually knew.
Weide, she thought. (Hadn't spoken German in a long time either.) Like the trees behind the house that had survived the fire. She'd tried to find the place where her house had stood on Google Earth (surely that was magic?). Going by the bend in the river and how long it had taken her to walk from there, it was now an apartment complex outside Pforzheim. Hundreds of people living in her old glade. She wondered if they'd got rid of the smell.
Their talks became easier, especially after Willow admitted that she had actively been searching for people like her; not that I want to reduce you only to that, obviously, but we've found most of the slayers already and I figure there are others out there that need finding too, and… It seemed like a good idea, but maybe not for her. Apart from mentioning it once or twice, though, Willow didn't push; she genuinely seemed to want to talk to her, not just recruit her.
Then one day; Listen, I'm going to be in New York next week, wanna meet up for coffee? She suggested a bar instead. (Never could stand the smell of fresh bread.)
Willow turned out to be pretty much what she'd expected from their online discussions; red hair, very enthusiastic, and very insistent on hugging. (Good at it, too.) Also, very talkative; for the first fifteen minutes she could barely get a word in while Willow gave her a rundown of how she got here. Not that she minded. She talked funny. And … what was that about vampires? And a snake, and … OK, that went pretty dark pretty fast. And yet there she was, in a bright top and looking really excited to meet her. "So anyway, sorry, I know I babble. Shutting up now. What's your story?"
So she decided. She knew she had enough power for a quick getaway spell if it came to that. She pulled up her sleeve and showed Willow the scarred, burned skin underneath, all the parts she couldn't heal if she wanted her face and hands to look the same for howevermany years it had been. Once she'd done that (without looking at Willow's face) the rest came easy; telling her about the kids, how she only barely escaped the oven alive, about the way they'd turned everyone in town against her, how she'd been chased from town to town, never daring to stay anywhere for more than a few years, until cities became big enough to disappear in, until she became a fairytale to scare children with. "And well… here I am."
"OK, so… Wow." Willow stared at her in recognition, but not in fear or disgust. "You're… her. Cool. I mean, I kinda figured you were, I don't mean old old, but… wow." Then she grinned and took a sip of her drink. "But y'know, we killed them."
"What?"
"Hansel and Gretel. Turns out they're actually demons, except not anymore, because they're dead. We, well, mostly a friend of mine, but I kinda helped, they pulled the same thing on our town and we were going to get burned at the stake but instead we, or she, killed them and broke the spell." Willow took her hand. "I mean, I'm not saying the world is a perfect paradise or anything, but at least that particular fear demon is pffft."
Now it was her turn to stare at Willow. Her head was spinning as if she'd had more than the one drink. "So… you got out of people thinking you'd killed some children by actually killing them?"
"Huh. When you put it that way… Well, I guess some stereotypes about us witches are true after all." Willow grinned.
Us witches. She couldn't help but like the sound of that. "Listen… Do you want another drink? It seems I have some catching up to do."