I'm not familiar with Supernatural, though I've picked up some of it simply reading crossovers with Good Omens so I don't know who Bobby is but the information isn't necessary to enjoy this story. You include everything pertinent to the action.
You make his despair underlying his attempt to "get back in the saddle", the difference between doing a thing with one's heart and doing it as an obligation very real. It's all too easy to draw the parallel to returning wounded and maimed vets.
His rough sex with War is the expected thing as are his visions of the desperate action and horrors of war rising up with his climax. That she--rather literally--infuses him with renewed heart and determination isn't something ever in doubt.
but there is something startling that lifts this story our of the routine:
>She kisses him then, a completely different kind of kiss. This one is soft and beautiful but oddly not incongruous with the rest of her. As her tongue finds his, he closes his eyes, and thinks of the smooth lines of a gun and the perfect hilt of a sword.<
That hint of compassion, that perfect understanding of what it COSTS to be a "holy warrior" is an seldom if ever glimpsed aspect of War and it gives a catch in the throat. Likening that sweetness to the fine milling and sleek beauty inherent in a well-made weapon, enlarges the idea. She is what she was made to be and even with war there are multiple sides to what seemed one-dimensional.
The mystical ride in the car above battlefields that seem to be ll battlefields, even the one in heaven so long ago very nicely picks up the theme stated from the Bhagavad Gita and draws the parallel between Bobby and Arjuna well.
no subject
You make his despair underlying his attempt to "get back in the saddle", the difference between doing a thing with one's heart and doing it as an obligation very real. It's all too easy to draw the parallel to returning wounded and maimed vets.
His rough sex with War is the expected thing as are his visions of the desperate action and horrors of war rising up with his climax. That she--rather literally--infuses him with renewed heart and determination isn't something ever in doubt.
but there is something startling that lifts this story our of the routine:
>She kisses him then, a completely different kind of kiss. This one is soft and beautiful but oddly not incongruous with the rest of her. As her tongue finds his, he closes his eyes, and thinks of the smooth lines of a gun and the perfect hilt of a sword.<
That hint of compassion, that perfect understanding of what it COSTS to be a "holy warrior" is an seldom if ever glimpsed aspect of War and it gives a catch in the throat. Likening that sweetness to the fine milling and sleek beauty inherent in a well-made weapon, enlarges the idea. She is what she was made to be and even with war there are multiple sides to what seemed one-dimensional.
The mystical ride in the car above battlefields that seem to be ll battlefields, even the one in heaven so long ago very nicely picks up the theme stated from the Bhagavad Gita and draws the parallel between Bobby and Arjuna well.