HUFFLEPUFF: “[War] is instinctive. But the instinct can be fought. We’re human beings with the blood of a million savage years on our hands! But we can stop it. We can admit that we’re killers… but we’re not going to kill today. That’s all it takes! Knowing that we’re not going to kill – today!” –Gene L. Coon + Robert Hamner (Jim Kirk: Star Trek: A Taste Of Armageddon)
While the basic concept present in the original outline of “A Taste of Armageddon” appealed greatly to the Star Trek production office, writer Robert Hamner had to deal with the fact that the show had a much smaller budget than his script, which began with a dramatic meteor storm disabling the Enterprise before featuring many expensive exterior shots. Gene Coon wrote back to the accomplished TV scripter with a very long memo, which began with:
Do not start with the barrage of meteorites on the Enterprise. Too expensive — a big horrible optical. Pick up the enterprise after a meteor shower, as the ship limps, badly injured, toward [the planet]. We must not — repeat NOT — have scenes laid on the city streets. This would mean total set construction of the sort restricted only to multi-million dollar movies. Interiors we can do, long-distance matte shots we can do, but we cannot have our principals walk down a street which is obviously of design and construction far ahead of ours.
As you can see when you watch the final episode, they get a lot of mileage out of the same small corridor set thanks to some clever lighting and angle choices.
In her kiss I taste the stars,
and they are cold
Nebula flows into her veins,
like a cascade of silver
Ribcages like the rings of Saturn
Lips like the universe’s edge
Eyes that could outshine the sun above
And a black hole where my fingertips met
She carves me like a sculpture
and paints me like a masterpiece
in the color of rapture
Reddish like an ember, I blister
Twisted like the scorching sunrise
Though to darkness she’s a mistress
To my heart’s a demise
And she won’t stop til I quiver
quicker upon her skin
Each touch of flesh’s a warning
that my tongue’s exploring
the goddess within
Pierced by ecstasy, I wondered:
“Why isn’t her love mine to keep?”
While breathing deep admiration
found myself locked around her hips
And I shall die from starvation
the second she leaves
Now I can hear the angels choir
Claiming her out my grip
They’ll gather her into constellations
For she’s God’s favorite creation
But plainly a lover to me.
Castiel sighed, pressing his hand
to his bleeding shoulder that refused to heal no matter how hard he
concentrated his angelic grace. This tended to happen sometimes when he was
mentally weakened and stabbed with an angel blade.
If this was to be his last moment
he would want to spend it in a peaceful place.
Dean thought that he had
turned into a traitor, Sam agreed with his brother, Balthazar betrayed him, and
his older brother Gabriel was dead.
There was only one light, one
source of comfort left in his father’s beloved world. But as the years went by
he could not really call Y/N his father’s creation anymore. No, she wasn’t
anyone’s experiment. She was a free willed spirit who stood only for herself
and those she loved.
She had become quite an
With whatever remaining strength
he had he envisioned her small little house out in the middle of nowhere. He
remembered the incredible times that he would show up to her house in the dead
of night and the two would share an evening all to themselves. Her parents had
said that they were going out for ice cream one night and never came back,
leaving Castiel to teach her how to survive because he could not be around to
Even with all those moments where
he would show her how to cook or how to do laundry (he himself had to look up
that one first) they never shared a parental relationship. He never once
considered her his daughter. She was more than that.
She was his most trusted friend.
And even as she grew up, even as
the tea parties turned to book reading sessions, her light never dimmed once.
“Yes…” He decided, “This
will be a good place to die”
In an instant he was there,
collapsed onto her couch. A startled yip reached his ears and he identified it
to be Y/N. She was reading on the couch while a black and white film ran on the
television. The E/C eyed girl shut off the TV and, without a second thought,
reached behind her where her large first-aid kit laid.
Her band-aids had turned to
disinfectant bandages… how had he not reveled in this change until now?
Y/N leaned next to him, ripping
off his beloved trenchcoat that she gave to him for his birthday when she was
ten (It was unnecessary, he said, he’s had so many birthdays in the past so she
didn’t need to spend her hard earned money on him. She gave him the coat
anyway) She dabbed the sterile wipe across his skin, wrapping it in a bandage
and praying that it would heal. Her silent prayer echoed through his head,
dragging a small smile out of the angel.
“I have missed you…” He
muttered weakly. By some miracle he could feel the wound already healing. It
wasn’t the bandage healing him… It was her.
She pursed her lips, intertwining
her left hand with his while her other absently ran her fingers over the downy
feathers of his wings, sending a tingling sensation down his spine.
“It’s been a month, Castiel. What
the hell happened to you?” He looked down, unable to meet her piercing gaze.
“There were… complications in
heaven. If I visited you then I was afraid that they would find you…” The
dark haired angel murmured.
She shook her head, “No
Cas… I would have been okay. Not being able to see you was far worse…”
He tried desperately to change
the subject, “How is your job at the diner?”
Y/N frowned, “Castiel don’t
you dare try to change the subject”
By pure instinct his wings curled
around her body, draping her in a cocoon of bluish black feathers, each
individually shimmering when they caught the light provided by the small lamp
in the corner of the room.
“Y/N I’m so sorry but you do know
that if I ever put you in harm’s way… I could never forgive myself” He
A weak laugh pulled its way from her lips, “Cas… I’m not that
little girl with Dora the Explorer band-aids anymore… I’ve grown up…”
Castiel looked down from her E/C eyes to the center of her
chest, his gaze shaking through the metaphysical eye to look into the deepest
reaches of her soul. And… yes.
It was still there. A pure soul just as bright as the day he first
met her. Nothing and nobody had or ever will change her.
“No Y/N. Deep inside I can still tell that you
are the same”
The girl scoffed, running a hand through his inky
black hair, “Yeah, well, I sure look different” She batted her eyes playfully
as if to prove this point.
It was very clear in his mind that he was not
going to die as he had earlier predicted. He was going to live on, probably
bring ruin in his wake. But if Y/N would still soldier on, a kindred white
flame in this world filled with graying shades… then he could never truly give
up. He would have her to go to after all.
In that moment as he pressed his lips to hers he
had decided. That if the she would not bend for the world…
…Then he sure as hell wouldn’t either.
SO? Did you like it? I really hope you did!
This will be the final part in this little two-shot series.