“British pilot rescued after Pacific action. June 1945, on board a carrier of the British Pacific Fleet operating against the Japanese. A British naval pilot who was shot down close inshore was rescued by a Supermarine Walrus amphibian aircraft which landed under the guns of Japanese coastal batteries, picked up the Avenger pilot and returned him to the deck of the carrier.”
Without a doubt, the A-10 cockpit is one of the world’s coolest offices.
Capt. Todd Campbell, A-10 Thunderbolt II pilot from the 66th Weapons Squadron, United States Air Force Weapons School, Nellis Air Force Base, Nev., parks his jet prior to the start of exercise Hustler Trough II, at Biggs Army Airfield on Fort Bliss, Texas, Oct. 31, 2015. Hustler Trough II is a week-long joint fires exercise designed to enhance synergy between more than ten different Army and Air Force units. (U.S. Army photo by: Staff Sgt. Marcus Fichtl)
I felt like Dark needed some love. So here it is! I’m in a cuddly, cute, sorta sad? mood so forgive the less murderous side of Dark in this.
Fic Request: “Can you
do another fluffy and cute fix on Dark, it doesn’t matter what it’s about I
just love them so much that I need more”
Mark didn’t sound good over the phone. His voice was strained, tone deep and rough as if in pain. You knew that Dark was trying to get out, and this time you weren’t there to stop him. You arrived home, expecting the place to be burnt to the ground. Or some nightmarish trap waiting for you. But instead, you walked into a house completely intact and a slouched form on the couch. “Dark?” You asked. You didn’t get a response. Edging closer, you glimpsed the black-rimmed eyes staring down at the floor. They were distant, lost in thought. You crouched in front of the man, waiting for him to acknowledge you. On rare occasions when Dark had slipped out, he hadn’t been nice. He had fooled you into believing he was Mark once, but then tearing you apart emotionally by pricking at the secrets you had trusted in your friend. It had destroyed you. Other times Dark had mock you, endlessly poking at your conscious. He had been so confident, so smug, all you had wanted to do was swipe at him.
When Mark returned he had tried so hard to mend what Dark had torn apart, you knew it wasn’t just an act. Two people resided inside Mark. And you grew fearful of the creature lurking in his mind.
But here, he looked defeated. His posture was tense but bent, like a wilted flower. With the expression of a child, he looked up at you, finally meeting your gaze. “I’m not in the mood to play today,” He said. “Go along with your business.” Shock riddled through you, and despite yourself, you sat in front of him. “Are you…ok?” You asked. The question seemed to confuse him. As if he didn’t know himself. When he didn’t give an answer you moved to sit beside him. You gave him every chance to stop you or move away. But instead he turned his gaze back to his lap. You waited for him to do something. Leap at you. Yell at you. Snarl, growl, hiss, anything. But Dark remained silent. Like a statue. You nudged his shoulder with yours, “Do you wanna hear a story?” He didn’t look at you, but he didn’t refuse either. “When I was really little, I had tried to be a superhero.” You told him. “I had a cape and a mask, designed by yours truly. It was actually just a really colorful sheet that I cut up and a frog mask from a dollar store. And I thought that was all you needed to fly. Ii didn’t get the concept of “super-powers”, I thought it was the cape that gave you the abilities.” Dark remained quiet, you knew he was listening by the slight turn of his head. “And on that day, I had climbed this massive pine tree that was in the neighbors yard. I climbed until the branches were too small to hold me. And…I jumped.” You said with a grimace. “And for a second, I actually thought I was flying. I didn’t feel any fear, until I started to hit every damn branch on the way down.” You glimpsed Dark’s mouth twitch and you continued. “Two cracked ribs, many bruises and a broken pride later, my mother refused to let me wear anything cape-like till I was fifteen. I was devastated. Can you imagine me in a super-hero outfit? I’d look amazing!”
Dark sighed, the tension in his shoulders had released some and he lifted his head. “That was the most moronic thing I’ve ever heard you say,” He said. “Trust me, my younger self was the stupidest child you’d ever have the misfortune of knowing.” You chuckled. “I tried to jump from my second story window to catch a bird.” Dark shook his head, returning to the slouched position. The story helped, but only a little. Biting your lip, you squirmed under his arm, wriggling till your head was on his lap and you were staring up at his somber gaze. “What are you doing?” He asked, retracting slightly. “Not sure yet,” You admitted. “I’ll tell you when I figure it out.” His eyebrows furrowed, watching you as you smiled up at him. His arms relaxed, laying around your body like a cage. Never being so close before, you took the time to examine him. Dark of course had Mark’s features, but they were somehow different. Small changes, enough so that you’d glance over them and not notice. But now, with only a small space between you, you could tell. Dark had slightly sharper cheekbones, his jaw hitching upwards like blades. His eyes were darker, with longer lashes and a paler face. Where Mark was warm and friendly, Dark was cool and predatory. Without thinking, you lifted your hand and traced a finger along his jaw. Dark flinched, but didn’t move away from your touch. His eyes fluttered close as you followed the lines of his chin, lightly tickling the scruff coating his cheeks.
Your hand followed your fingers, cupping the side of Dark’s face and gently rubbing his temples. Dark leaned into your palm, nuzzling your fingers as his arms tightened around you. He held you softly, like a wounded animal that might try to scamper away if he moved too quickly. Your hand traveled upwards, very lightly stroking the black strands of his hair. A slight rumble echoed from Dark’s chest as you continued to outline his features with your fingers. It wasn’t menacing like you were use too, it was almost calming. Your thumb brushed over his eyes, a finger delicately sliding down his nose and outlining his lips. Dark peeled open his eyes to watch you. His gaze no longer sullen or cold, a faint warmth had melted the onyx gems. And the corner of his lips curled up lightly. His breathing was slow and deep. Arms cradling you. “I understand now why he is so fond of you,” Dark purred. You smiled up at him. “Everyone needs some love sometimes.” Dark hummed, his eyes shutting again as your fingers dusted over the lashes lining them. Suddenly, he started moving. Dark lifted you off the couch, placing you beside him and then stretching over the cushions himself. Laying his head on your lap and guiding your hand to his face. You grinned, chuckling softly as you continued your mapping. He hummed and closed his eyes. You allowed your hands to travel down the sides of his head to his neck. Following the veins that were located beneath the skin, then floating back up to his lips and across his forehead. Dark started to drift into sleep. He fought with the void, wanting to stay and feel your touch a little longer.
The sensation, the warmth, it calmed the swirling thoughts in his head. The itching in his fingers ceasing to nothing as he lay there. He turned his head towards you, allowing your fingers to explore the back of his neck. Ticking the soft hairs and very gently tangling up in the strands. Your scent surrounded him. Consuming his senses in your presence and only your existence. You were the only thing in his world at that moment. There was no reality, no Mark, no deranged thoughts. Just you and your hands. And as you swept your thumb over his cheek, caressing the bristles, Dark slipped back into the blackness and Mark opened his eyes. “Oh, hello.” He said. “I’m back.” “Good morning,” You said. “I think I’m beginning to grow on Dark.”
“Acrylic painting. Scene depicts Lt. Howard Ady and his PBY crew spotting the Japanese Fleet at Midway.
The painting was a juried selection among 50 works displayed in the first National Naval Aviation art contest.”
(National Museum of Naval Aviation: