I'm not sure I've ever read wing!fic that wasn't shippy. Huh. This seems nuts, now I think about it, because it's such a rich, weird, symbolism-stuffed excuse for diverse ficcy adventures. Gosh, how much could you do with other fannish id kinks, if you handed your writers one constraint: no porn? (Not that you can't have porn and deep thoughts in the same story...but you know what I mean.)
I love the horror show of the wings smashing through Faith's back and growing from the inside out. And the seagull fuzz. It's so grotesque and funny and frightening and strangely adorable, all at once.
I love that Brisa uses a boomerang. I love Dawn's ponytail and glasses. I love her and Xander and comics, and straight-boy!Xander's, "Oh goody," about the umbrella, and the scythe that shears best under the harvest moon, and the peculiar, prickly little throwaway detail that Spike is the only vampire with an invitation to the mansion.
I like how you do your "seemingly cool superpowers thrust upon 'em and turning out less than super cool" theme. How the wings are sort of symbolic of all those superpowers -- advantageous in certain limited scenarios (once one has grown into/figured out how to manage them), but as likely to cause awkwardness and pain. It's not lost on me how many scenes take place in the barn because it's raining outside. See again: limited scenarios. Faith clattering around, knocking over hay bales: they literally do not fit in the ordinary world.
And oh, god, the girls who get ruined by Willow's touch-to-the-forehead. Thanh and Jessica and Xio and Lulu and Dana. "I have no Faith" is a doozy of a line. I'm going to remember the one about using her powers to steal a hamburger for a long time, too. It just sums up so damned much, so damned efficiently, the hierarchy of needs, the absolute ludicrousness of asking a person to be a warrior of the people when the people can't even supply breakfast.
I realize I'm telling you a bunch of things about your story that you already know, because you wrote it, but I like babbling.
Oh and by the way, I think this is my favourite Buffy/Faith fic ever. What an incredibly layered, moving portrait of them you wove into such a short fic. There are so many insights to chew on that I can't hit them all and hardly know where to begin. I love that Buffy is hard and mostly can't quite bear to relinquish her sarcasm. She hasn't lost her humor, but it pops out in harsher ways. I love when she takes care of Faith, even when Faith doesn't want it and it's not the right thing to do. And I love Faith explaining how hard it is to be accepted and loved without having to earn it, and Buffy noting that Spike stumbled over the same problem. I love that Faith left Robin for duty. And the line about Buffy not allowing herself to love a thousand things. This, the end of this story, is what I have always wanted for Buffy. For her to give herself permission. For both of them to disallow their wings cast too big a shadow on their lives.
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I love the horror show of the wings smashing through Faith's back and growing from the inside out. And the seagull fuzz. It's so grotesque and funny and frightening and strangely adorable, all at once.
I love that Brisa uses a boomerang. I love Dawn's ponytail and glasses. I love her and Xander and comics, and straight-boy!Xander's, "Oh goody," about the umbrella, and the scythe that shears best under the harvest moon, and the peculiar, prickly little throwaway detail that Spike is the only vampire with an invitation to the mansion.
I like how you do your "seemingly cool superpowers thrust upon 'em and turning out less than super cool" theme. How the wings are sort of symbolic of all those superpowers -- advantageous in certain limited scenarios (once one has grown into/figured out how to manage them), but as likely to cause awkwardness and pain. It's not lost on me how many scenes take place in the barn because it's raining outside. See again: limited scenarios. Faith clattering around, knocking over hay bales: they literally do not fit in the ordinary world.
And oh, god, the girls who get ruined by Willow's touch-to-the-forehead. Thanh and Jessica and Xio and Lulu and Dana. "I have no Faith" is a doozy of a line. I'm going to remember the one about using her powers to steal a hamburger for a long time, too. It just sums up so damned much, so damned efficiently, the hierarchy of needs, the absolute ludicrousness of asking a person to be a warrior of the people when the people can't even supply breakfast.
I realize I'm telling you a bunch of things about your story that you already know, because you wrote it, but I like babbling.
Oh and by the way, I think this is my favourite Buffy/Faith fic ever. What an incredibly layered, moving portrait of them you wove into such a short fic. There are so many insights to chew on that I can't hit them all and hardly know where to begin. I love that Buffy is hard and mostly can't quite bear to relinquish her sarcasm. She hasn't lost her humor, but it pops out in harsher ways. I love when she takes care of Faith, even when Faith doesn't want it and it's not the right thing to do. And I love Faith explaining how hard it is to be accepted and loved without having to earn it, and Buffy noting that Spike stumbled over the same problem. I love that Faith left Robin for duty. And the line about Buffy not allowing herself to love a thousand things. This, the end of this story, is what I have always wanted for Buffy. For her to give herself permission. For both of them to disallow their wings cast too big a shadow on their lives.