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#source: ten titans
redbuddi · 10 months
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What we know about the missing Sub
For whatever reason this story has absolutely grabbed my attention, and so I will be compiling the information that I can confirm in a decent timeline of events, feel free to message me if y'all feel like something needs to be changed/revised
A company known as OceanGate offers dives to view the wreck of the Titanic, charging 250,000 USD per ride. This sub is not approved by any regulatory body, and is controlled with an xbox controller. The inside is a small tube one would have to sit down to fit inside.
It is not a regular sub, but a submersible, which does not have the power to lauch itself and return on it's own, but instead must be launched and retrieved by a mothership. Thus, constant communication is of the utmost importance.
4 AM, June 18th, an expedition begins. Confirmed passengers are a pilot, a "Content Expert," Businessman Hamish Harding (who posted the linked instragram post,) and two other passengers who are as yet unconfirmed.
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Communications with the sub are lost 1 hour and 45 minutes into the dive.
The US and Canadian coast guard begin working together to try and find the sub. The vessel has an advertised 96 hours of oxygen.
The instagram post earlier is found by CNN, although they do not yet divulge who posted it. They reach out to OceanGate for comment and get none.
An additional vessel is dispatched to assist in the search.
The US Coast Guard holds a press conference where they discuss the difficulties in locating the vessel in the remote area it dove into.
Coast Guard surmises that there is 70 to 96 hours of oxygen remaining, although this was reported abt ten hours ago, so it's more like 60 to 86 now.
The coast guard also begins a twitter thread which they are continually updating. They have completed two flights over the area but have not found anything, they will dispatch another plane in the morning.
OceanGate claims to be taking "every step possible" to recover the missing vessel.
Twitter user Kenny Sharpe realizes that he had seen the vessel being towed out to it's expedition and posts photos that he took.
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LITERALLY FOUND THIS AS I WAS GETTING SOURCES, Daily Mail claims that the other two passengers are businessman Shahzada Dawood and his son, but given DM's dubious journalistic integrity (to put it nicely,) I would take this claim with a grain of salt until other sources confirm it.
I will update this as more info becomes available, feel free to message me with sources if you know anything.
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quartergremlin · 11 days
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Mikey and Jess meet in a hidden city museum, three years post krang. They hit it off immediately, and continue to hit it off for the rest of their lives.
Fun fact this is the comic that spurred me to make a ten+ year timeline of jess's life. all to figure out if it would make sense for him to write his personal number on a business card or not. it did not. He's a graduate student here.
transcript:
Mikey: It's really different. I've never been to one of these before, so I didn't know what to expect, but it's...
Plaque description: Hope, Anonomous. Oil on Canvas, 1' x 1'.
Jess: It's very honest. and scared.
M: Something like that.
J: This is your first time at this museum?
M: At any museum. We didn't really have access to this stuff as a kid. *mimes ''i lived in a sewer hands''* Plus I've always been more of a street art turtle, y'know?
J: Can't say I do. Tell me about it?
M: Only if you show me around.
J: Deal.
M: Great! Mind if you go first? not a ton of graffiti in here.
M: This has been fun, Jess Harley.
J: I could say the same, Michelangelo Hamato. Though I do believe you owe me a tour of the city's great street art pieces.
M: Vefore. I take that. I don't date. So if that's what you're after, this isn't going to work out.
J: Michaelangelo. I mean it genuinely when I say I had fun today. I'd like to be your friend. And do it again.
M: Hey! Jess!
J: This is my new friend Michelangelo. I can tell from their patch that we have similar interests.
M: Oh that's just my family crest.
J: Ur what.
desc: Anchient symbol found at multiple titan locations, source of all yokai.
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iicloudyiiddyy · 7 months
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YANDERE! YANDERE! WHAT ARE YOU?
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CLINGY- Most likely of them all to become a stalker, too emotionally attached, it’s a must to have you in their life. They just can’t do it without you! I need hugs and I need kisses and I need you to look at me! Tsk. Tsk. Such Needy little things. 
“Where you going? In town near the shore? Oooo! Let me come!”
Ready to create shrines (already did) about you. Wants you. Needs you. Craves you. Your attention on  is more of a life source than food and water for them. Has videos & pictures of you. (They touch themselves to it) anything to remind them that you are with them, not with that bitch. Always trying to take you away from. Someone should teach her a lesson. They will throw a fit if you tell them that you can’t hang out with them today or that you are to busy and it’s because they will cling on to anything that tells them that you choose them, that you hang out with them because you like it, because you love it, I mean what could be more important than them?
-> Hange , Sasha , Krista (AOT) Hinata , Nishinoya , Yachi, Atsumu (HAIKYUU) Hinata , Ten-Ten , Konan (NARUTO) Gon , Pakunoda (HUNTER X HUNTER) Tanjiro , Mitsuri , Rengoku (DEMON SLAYER) Izuku , Kirishima , Twice (MY HERO ACADEMIA)
————— OBSESSIVE - They are nothing but a slave to their own obsession. They revolve around you. How you sleep, what you eat, and what you say can drive them in a tizzy! Even the smallest of things can make them stay up at night and fantasize. Everything about you is in and on their mind. Your smell. Your eyes. Your body. Your touch. Must know about you. You’re their passion, and the root of their curiosity. They steal your worn-out clothes, your perfume, your panties & your pens. Anything to get a glimpse into who you are, to aid there dirty fantasies. 
-> Jean , Falco , Erwin(ATTACK ON TITAN) Tanaka , Kenma (HAIKYUU) Kiba , (NARUTO) Nobunaga (HUNTER X HUNTER) Akaza , Muichiro (DEMON SLAYER) Sero (MY HERO ACADEMIA) Sal Fisher, (SALLY FACE)
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POSSESSIVE- Yours. Hers. His. Theirs. Mine. They get off so bad with these words, rubbing their thighs together at just the mere thought of it. They must dictate and decide everything for you, you are theirs after all. You can eat this and this, don’t even think about trying that though and stay away from your Aunt Susan. Why? Cause I said so now do it. They want to direct the things you do. Make the things you do because of them. Power and ownership is what makes them choke you , watching as you sputter and struggle and only when they think that you’ve learned your lesson in disobedience that they stop. Just give it up, the sooner you stop fighting them and their decisions the better. 
“ Good girl, now who do you belong to? That’s right. That means when I say for you to take my cock you fucking do it.”
-> Levi , Ymir (ATTACK ON TITAN) Kageyama , Tsukishima (HAIKYUU) Madara , Sasuke, Neji , (NARUTO) Chrollo , Machi , Kurapika , (HUNTER X HUNTER) Obanai , Sanemi , Muzan , Kokoshibu (DEMON SLAYER) Shigaraki , Aizawa (MY HERO ACADEMIA)
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SUBMISSIVE -  You need a dog? I can bark. You need a shoe cleaner? I have a mouth. They are by your feet within seconds of you uttering their name. They love serving you, being needed by you. I mean as long as your there they are fine with literally anything. Willing to do anything. Would give you everything if you so much as asked.     
“Please! Please, tell me you want me! Tell me you love me!”
Will give up their dignity, pride and humanity for you. All you have to do is ask. Their worst nightmare is you throwing them out. Deciding that you are better off without them. Your aren’t and they will prove it to you. 
-> Armin , Floch , Gabi (ATTACK ON TITAN) YACHI, Terushima, (HAIKYUU) Sakura , Minato (NARUTO) Leorio, (HUNTER X HUNTER) MITSURI , Enmu (DEMON SLAYER)
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MANIPULATIVE - Gaslight, gate-keep, girl boss, blackmail. Will use every single tactic and ploy in the book to get you to stay.
“How could you! You did this to me! Made me so weak and useless without you! I can’t breathe when you aren’t around! I’ll fall apart without you! It would be all your fault!”
They know what they are doing, know that you are too sweet to leave in fear of what would happen to them. So you stay and let them rule and command your life, you would be falling apart of the amount of emotional torture and manipulation that they put you through and they would be all shits and giggles. You aren’t leaving. You’re going to stay here with them through heaven and hell. 
-> Eren, Connie , (ATTACK ON TITAN) Kuroo, Oikawa (HAIKYUU) Naruto, Shikamaru, Itachi (NARUTO) Phinks (HUNTER X HUNTER) Uzui, Shinobu , Daki ( DEMON SLAYER) HAWKS , toga (MY HERO ACADEMIA)
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SADISTIC-  You thought possessive YAN! was bad? Oh…sweetheart here they come…the minute they set their eyes on you you were theirs, and to ensure that they spread lies and cause rumors. Anything to get you alone,by yourself and hurt. Come crawling to them. Stay with them. Never leave them, you have no one else anyways. They will play nice with you, let you think that they are here to protect you that you are safe when you are the farthest thing from it. They will coo at you saying how cute you are, all small and fragile with only them by your side before smashing their fist on your head, they shudder at your pain.Not cause it grosses them out. No! No! Quite the opposite. They are drooling for your despair. Seeing you like this on your knees, tears streaming down your face as you sob in pain. God. How could they not want you? 
They don’t dilute themself into thinking that this is for you or your safety. No, this is for them. They not only blush at the thought of you in pain but also for the fact that it’s because of them. They get off seeing you beg and babble. Gasp and scream for them to stop as you collapse on their cock. They giggle at your fruitless efforts, silly thing, you should know by now that your crying only makes them want to do it more. The power goes to their head, intoxicated at seeing you whimper in fear of them. They love you so much . They want to see you so helpless and out of power. To have your pleasure, pain and thoughts in their hands is nothing but a dream for them.
-> Levi, Zeke (ATTACK ON TITAN) MADARA (NARUTO) FEITAN (HUNTER X HUNTER) Sakusa kiyoomi?? (HAIKYUU) MUZAN (DEMON SLAYER) Dabi, Keigo (MY HERO ACADEMIA) ( ᴡʜʏ ᴅᴏ I ғɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ʏᴀɴ sᴏ ʜᴏᴛ)
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DELUSIONAL - Anything and everything is the problem but them. It must by the color of his shirt that’s making you look at him with such disgust. Green isn’t his color.. everyone knows that... You love them though. It’s the only explanation for how you act, running away when seeing them, you should be more forward with your feelings! They feel the same way! You’re just playing shy when you were dodging their kisses. 
When you were yelling on how much you don’t want this. Tut, tut. Playing hard to get? We love each other. We’re made for each other. I love you and you love me. Now stop beating around the bush and come here.
“I only hurt you because of my love. My feelings. You feel the same way. You should understand. I’ll make you understand.”
-> Marco, EREN ( ATTACK ON TITAN) Sugawara , Yaku (HAIKYUU) ALSO SAKURA , Lee , Gaara (NARUTO) Shizuku , Cheetu ( I’m sobbing I dont know why I find that cheetah ant so hot)(HUNTER X HUNTER) Tomioka (DEMON SLAYER)
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SAFE GUARD-   Extremely overbearing. Must know where you are at all times, has to not only be aware but also have an opinion in what you are doing. 
“You want to go where? Why? Here with me is perfect. Fine. Stop crying you can go, but I’m coming with you.”
Just accept it. You aren’t shaking them off. They watch, study & perceive, if not for you then for them, for their peace of mind . They love being your knight in shining armor (even though you didn’t need one) your protecter.
They keep you ‘safe’, and that fact alone is their pride and joy. I mean, what would you do without them? You need them. They don’t need you.( that’s what they tell themselves) you should be more grateful.
-> Mikasa , LEVI (ATTACK ON TITAN) Daichi , (HAIKYUU) Itachi , kakashi (NARUTO) Machi , Uvogin, killua, illumi (HUNTER X HUNTER) Akaza , Gyomei (DEMON SLAYER)
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( ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛs ᴛᴏ @cafekitsune ♡︎) ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ɪғ ᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ sᴜᴘᴘᴏʀᴛ ᴍɪɴᴇ ᴏʀ ʜᴇʀ ʙʟᴏɢs ʙʏ ʟɪᴋɪɴɢ, ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢɢɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴀᴍᴀᴢɪɴɢ! I ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʜᴏᴡ ᴅɪᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜɪs ᴏɴᴇ! Dᴏɴᴛ ʙᴇ ᴀғʀᴀɪᴅ ᴛᴏ sᴇɴᴅ ᴀ ʀᴇǫ!
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jesamnelovelace · 2 months
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Many people’s negative feelings towards Terry Long lead them to wanting him to be removed completely from Donna’s history. I understand why. He was a good decade older than her, and she was freshly an adult when they began dating. He didn’t respect her career as a hero, often complaining about it despite having known beforehand what he was getting into. He took her child from her in their divorce. Etc. 
Terry was not a good partner for Donna, but I don’t believe canon should just erase him. For better or for worse, Terry played a major role in Donna’s life, and removing him would change who she has become as a character/person.
The problem with Terry’s portrayal, especially prior to his and Donna’s divorce, was that the source material presented their relationship as healthy and tried to convince the readers of that. Clearly their relationship was not actually healthy.
When the age gap is brought up in the comics, it’s never for negative reasons. Sometimes it’s just a jab at Terry for being old, but often these references are used to show how mature Donna is. Wolfman has even said that he created Terry as Donna’s love interest because she needed somebody more mature like her. For him that meant she needed to date a man ten years her senior.
Only after their separation and divorce does their relationship start to be shown a bit negatively. However, even when it is, it’s not doing anything to show that the relationship was unhealthy when they were together. The negative things brought up and referenced about Terry are just that he was the one who initiated the divorce and left Donna and that he took Robbie away from Donna.
The ideal way, in my opinion, for what writers should do with their relationship is not to look back on it in a positive way, nor do I think they should completely ignore it ever happened. It should be acknowledged as something unhealthy that Donna didn’t seen at the time since she was young and naive. Something that took time/needs to take time for her to fully grasp.
However, this doesn’t mean I want for Donna to suddenly just completely hate him. I know many people enjoy revenge fantasies, and I know there are people that use Terry for those, and if that’s how you cope with things, that’s fine. I just personally don't see that as in character for Donna, nor do I really find it compelling.
Donna’s feelings towards Terry should be complicated. It should be something she struggles with at first that she later comes to terms with. There were some comics during and after the divorce that started to do this, but, again, her negative feelings were about the divorce itself and Terry taking Robbie away and not the relationship prior to these events.
During and after the divorce, despite everything Terry has been putting Donna through since he left her, she continues to believe she still loves him and thinks he must feel the same way about her. It ties a bit in with her issues with perfectionism. What they had was the perfect family she wanted, and she can’t fathom that she’s losing it. 
She believes that despite everything he is still a good person. She has occasional moments of anger towards him, but she still feels positively about him a lot of the time. It’s heartbreaking seeing these moments.
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New Titans #117
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New Titans #128
Even after his death her feelings remain complicated. She grieves for him along with Robbie. After everything he put her through. It would be so easy for her to be angry at him for Robbie’s death regardless of how much at fault he is. But she doesn’t. Instead she continues to feel love for him.  He took her son from her in more ways than one, and she still loves him.
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Girlfrenzy! Wonder Woman: Donna Troy
This display of complicated feelings, where she continues to love somebody she has every right to be mad at, isn’t just something she does with Terry. She’s done this with the Titans of Myth as well. They messed with her memories and manipulated her, but she still feels love for them. 
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Return of Donna Troy #4
To me it’s just a lot more compelling for her to struggle with the fact that she still loves these people who she has every right to hate. Even as she comes to terms with how poorly they treated her. She loves Terry. He was an important part of her life. But he hurt her. From the start their relationship was unhealthy. 
A story arc for Donna where it finally hits her how bad things were the whole time could be so much fun if handled correctly. And this is why I would prefer this over him being removed or just having Donna suddenly switch to just full on hating him. For her character it makes a lot more sense for things to be a bit more complex than that.
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d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n · 1 year
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Let me
Anthony Lockwood x F!Reader
Summary: You got hurt. It was his fault. And he feels absolutely awful.
Word Count: 3.4K
Warnings: Angst, Claustrophobia, Near-death situations, Some lightly mentioned family issues, Arguing, Couples? Quarrels, ANGST.
AN: The summary is awful - I feel like I say this every time. Idk if Reader and Lockwood are a couple, they don't have to be, but they can be if you want to. Love you all! (BTW I have not read the books in years so creative liberties were taken - I'm sorry for any and all book inaccuracies.)
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The body of one 'Sergeant M. Bowers' floated precariously towards Lockwood. He backed up against the door of the bedroom, eyes darting between you and Bowers, rapier extended in front of him. You rifled through the bedroom, looking for anything precious or valuable. You had to find the source for Lockwood.
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Lockwood had taken the case of this particular house out of pure greed. Mrs. Miller was willing to pay a pretty price to take care of her 'little problem' as she called it. You had warned him against it - the Bowers' manor was about a mile outside of the town you grew up in and you'd heard almost every story there was to hear about the house. About the family that inhabited the house. Lockwood hadn't listened.
He'd convinced you to come, saying the stories were 'probably just stories told to children to scare them away.' He assured you they weren't true. After George had done his research, you were more confident - apparently, reports of apparitions of children predated the problem and were therefore hoaxes.
The Bowers were an affluential aristocratic family before the war - the First World War, that is. "They were known for hosting Gatsby-esque parties to celebrate the most menial of affairs - like their dog turning one." George had rolled his eyes at that pushing the picture of the newspaper your way. April 6th, 1912. A week before the Titanic sank.
The sinking of the Titanic began a series of unfortunate events for the Bowers family, starting with the death of the youngest son, James. James and his to-be wife, Miranda, died aboard the ship, thrusting the family into a long period of mourning. In the following two years, 6 of the 12 members who lived in the house had passed away, forcing the rest to flee the countryside manor, claiming it had been cursed - which brought about the misfortune of the family.
The last of the family to inherit the manor was Sergeant Michael James Bowers, who was the youngest nephew of James. He had lost his life in the second World War; after being shot in the arm and leg, he had been honourably discharged and sent home. He succumbed to sepsis not long after, surrounded by empty halls and unhappy memories. Apparently, he had never left.
You shook your head in discomfort - dispelling the dark feeling that had crept over you since reading about the family's terrible fate. Something seemed off about this case - something seemed to have been omitted from all the research you and George had done.
At first, you disregarded it as nerves. The Bowers manor was big - bigger than any other case you had taken. Plus, it was close to home, which was full of unpleasant memories. Maybe the added pressure was playing on your mind. You tried to explain yourself to Lockwood, who dismissed you. Apparently, Lucy had to help Kipps with some research, and George was working on another case. There was no point in arguing with Lockwood when he had made up his mind, and he was not going to budge on this case.
Which led you to your current predicament.
There were many ghosts haunting the halls of the Bowers manor. It seemed that everyone who had died here didn't want to leave. You had rid the house of most of the ghosts - sealing almost ten sources in different iron boxes. Lockwood had danced his way through the Type Ones that he was dealing with - he was evidently the better agent out of the two of you. You had lucked out - you came face to face with a Type Two. The small girl kept repeating about her teddy which you had found in an upstairs bedroom covered in filth and cobwebs. You threw an iron net over it before leaning against a wall to catch your breath. You were exhausted - and you hadn't even dealt with the real problem.
Sergeant Bowers.
Sergeant M. Bowers was a lot more tortured than you had initially thought. His wife left him when he left for the war, leaving to follow her true love into the country - countless correspondences scattered across the rooms told you as much.
Then came the matter of a child - Timothy. Pictures of him were littered through the halls - toys left to rot in the hallways. Clearly, no one had cleaned it until Mrs. Miller bought it at that country house auction. Except the trace of him ended there. There was nothing in your research to tell you about him, nor any sign of him outside the walls of this home.
It was peculiar.
You had tried to tell Lockwood, but he brushed you off. "The kid must have died - explains the tortured relationship between his parents."
It seemed odd to you. What kind of mother would run off without her child?
A glint caught your eye. A small jewellery box lay on the vanity, dust laid over it as if it hadn't been touched in decades. You dashed towards it, opening it quickly to find a simple silver band inside. A wedding band. A source.
You placed the ring in a small iron box - one of your many engineering feats that made your job safer and easier to do. Bowers disappeared from over Lockwood and you ran over to help him up.
"See? Not too bad, was it?" Lockwood joked, taking the box from your hand and putting it in his bag with the rest of them.
"The only reason I'm glad we don't work with Fittes is the paperwork. We'd be drowning in it after tonight. Can you imagine? With all those Type Ones and the two Type Twos. I'd be crying into my pillow for weeks." You grabbed the rest of your equipment and headed towards the stairs. Lockwood's fingers wrapped around your arm, pulling you back sharply.
He pulled out his rapier and pointed it toward the woman - an apparition of a young woman, dressed in a maid's uniform and carrying a basket, seemingly full of laundry.
"Another Type Two. Great." Lockwood sighed, "You check downstairs and I'll check upstairs. She's a maid. Look for... maid things? I don't know." You nodded before hopping downstairs, armed with your rapier.
You went down to the servants' quarters, which you had seen on the blueprints of the house. The room was small, just off the side of the kitchen - and was perhaps the cleanest room in the house. The maids had been let go long before Sergeant Bowers had inherited the house. Clearly, they had taken the cleanliness with them.
You looked around for anything that could be a source. Why would staff die here, you thought, when the Bowers were known for treating staff well? And why would she choose to stay? You walked around the room, running your fingers over the sparse wooden furniture around the room, leaving trails in the dust in your wake. You tripped by the door to the bathroom, cutting your hand on a small loose nail by the door - probably used for hanging coats or aprons. You winced as you stretched your hand, closing your fist to stop the blood from dripping all over the floor.
You heard footsteps coming down the stairs. "Did you find anything, Lockwood?" No response. "Lockwood?" The door to the servants' quarters slammed shut. You pressed up against the door, trying to force it open. "LOCKWOOD? LOCKWOOD, HELP!" You screamed, trying to push the door hard. "LOCKWOOD, PLEASE! I NEED YOU!"
Lockwood called to you from the landing, telling you he's found something interesting. You tried screaming for him again, but he was too far away to hear you, just like you were too far away to help. Ghostly yelling startled you as you turned around. The maid was here, clearly oblivious to you in the room. She was humming softly as the ghostly yelling continued.
You watched her from a distance as she folded some invisible clothes, her humming still ringing out around the room. She laughed at nothing, before turning towards the door, expectantly. You turned towards the door, expecting to see some other apparition in the doorway but there was nothing. She seemed to get frantically worried by the lack of whatever presence she is expecting, her humming becoming erratic and eerier by the second.
Her eyes grazed over you, and she seemed to relax. She spoke to you gently, reaching her hand out to you, "Come, Elizabeth. There's no need to be scared." You felt the effects of Ghost-lock wash over you, as lethargy numbs your senses. You saw her drifting toward you, but you had no energy to run or even to poise your rapier in front of you. And she seems so nice.
You heard the door fly open and felt someone grab your arm, tightly. You were pulled out of the room and back into the kitchen. "Thanks, Anthony." You whispered, resting on the kitchen counters.
"Anthony? Who's Anthony?" You looked up, unamused by Lockwood's attempt at a joke.
Your jaw dropped. In front of you was a man that you thought you may never see again, "Grandpa? What the hell are you doing here?"
"I heard you screaming. Just wanted to make sure you're okay?" He said, eyes looking you over, searching for injuries. You hid your arm further behind your back, not wanting to worry him more.
He brought his hand up to brush your cheek, staring down at you lovingly. "I'm sorry about this, kiddo."
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You felt hands pulling you up off the floor, and a strangely familiar voice whispering soothing words in your ear. You struggled in the grasp of this strange person, trying - unsuccessfully - to flee. They held you firmly, arms tucked neatly beneath you.
Tired from your busy night, you gave up, resting your head against the person's chest. You knew this cologne. It was Anthony's - you teased him for putting on too much and the scent lingers in the hallways some mornings. You settled, seeking his warmth and his comfort.
"Nice to have you back. You worried me for a minute back there."
"Lockwood? Worried? God, are there pigs in the sky?" You bantered back, your voice weak with exhaustion. He laid you down on the stairs, running back to grab your rapier and your flares. You must have dropped them when your Grandpa showed up. Grandpa?
Where did he go? You stood up trying to walk back to the kitchen. Grandpa couldn't see any apparitions - if one came for him, he'd be as good as dead.
"Whoa, slow down, Usain Bolt." Lockwood caught you as your legs folded beneath you. "You took a nasty hit to the head, plus you might have had a bit of ghost-lock as well."
"Lockwood, my grandpa," You said, looking past him, and back at the kitchen door, "He can't see them. We have to help him."
"Your grandpa? Honey, there's no one here." The nickname fell on deaf ears. You tried to scramble back towards the room, but Lockwood held you tightly.
He walked with you back to the kitchen - to prove there was no one there. There was no sign of anyone being there - nothing at all.
"Look - there's no one else here. You must have hit your head while getting away from the maid. Just," He huffed, pulling you closer to him, "let me get you home. Let me check you over - make sure you're alright."
You let Lockwood drag you towards the taxi and push you inside. You let him maneuver your body so that your head is resting on his chest and your legs dangle over his. You let him carry you like a rag doll into the house and set you down in the kitchen.
You shivered slightly - involuntarily - but Lockwood noticed. He draped a large blanket over you, boiling some water for hot tea. He grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink and sat down in front of you.
He held out his hand for yours, "Let me clean it for you." So you do.
He spent the better part of the next hour meticulously cleaning every scratch and scrape he can find - only slowing down when you wince, or to pour you more tea. He makes it how you like it - a spoonful of sugar and a dash of milk
Once he's done, he lifts you again and carries you to bed, tucking you in like a mother would their child. He turns out the lights with a soft goodnight and crosses the landing to his own bedroom. The first floor is plunged into darkness, but you stare up at the ceiling.
Sleep doesn't come to you easily. When you close your eyes, the maid's face is above yours - her hand reaching out to you, beckoning you. You want to take it. You see her holding Elizabeth, cradling her as she cries. Your grandpa's face comes up next to the maid and you see your grandpa die. How he screams for you to help him as the plasm burns through his skin. Your mother blames you - tells you that she should never have let you go to Fittes. The maid shields Elizabeth from the loud arguing coming from upstairs. No, not from upstairs. The arguing is happening below you. You shake yourself awake from your restless night, wincing as you contort your bruised body. You slip on your Fittes hoodie and creep downstairs.
Lucy and Lockwood are facing off in the kitchen. Again. You sit on the step, listening in.
"She told you she didn't want to go! And now, there's a chance she won't be able to go into the field."
"She'll be fine. She's tough, she'll get through it."
"You don't know that, Lockwood! You can't just assume that everything will be fine just because you want it to be." You could hear Lucy's voice breaking as she fought back tears.
"Maybe, she won't want to go on missions anymore," George piped up. Clearly, he'd been forced to sit there through breakfast and listen to the argument, "After all, you didn't listen to her doubts when she said she was scared."
"No, she didn't. She just had nerves."
"No, Lockwood. I was terrified. And you didn't hear me out."
"You're awake!" Lucy threw her arms around you, hugging you tightly. "God, I'm so happy you're okay!" You smiled at her warmly, hugging her back. She moved past you, saying something about needing to meet Kipps to finish their case.
"I'd hug you too, but you should probably shower first. Who knows what kind of bacteria fester in hundred-year-old manors? I'll see you after lunch - heading to the archives." George walked out quickly, almost as if he was being chased out by rats.
Lockwood stood in front of you, straight as a board, "You look like you've been electrocuted. Sit down. I'm not going to bite." Lockwood sent a weak smile in your direction.
You poured yourself a mug of tea and put some bread in the toaster. You made a mental note to send George a shopping list before he came back.
"So..." Lockwood started, and you wanted to laugh. In the almost three years you'd lived with him, you'd never seen him so nervous.
"So?"
"We should probably talk about what happened back there." Ah. He wanted to do this now.
"Yeah. We probably should."
"What happened? I mean, one minute you were fine, the next you were unconscious in the kitchen?" Lockwood said, leaning back in his chair slightly.
You grabbed your mug and sat in the chair opposite him, "Was I, though?" Lockwood raised his eyebrows, "Was I really fine, Lockwood, or did you just want me to be fine?"
"I don't understand?"
"Lockwood, I voiced my doubts to you! I told you to let it go! That this was a case we didn't have to take! That we'd find something better." You were standing now, leaning over the table, staring Lockwood down.
"Worth more than 90 grand? Do you have any concept of how much money that is?"
"YES! YES, LOCKWOOD, I DO! IT'S NOT NEARLY ENOUGH MONEY! We fought how many ghosts? 10? 12? Do you even consider that?"
"14, actually."
"YOU ARE NOT HELPING YOURSELF. YOU MAY BE THE LITTLE PRODIGY OF FITTES, BUT SOME OF US ARE NORMAL. SOME OF US ARE AVERAGE." You sat back down, your legs shaking. You were still too weak to force this argument. Your voice trembled, "I can't keep up with you, Lockwood, none of us can. Lucy, maybe, but even she needs a break. Hell, even you need a break sometimes."
"We're fine, aren't we? We're all alive and kicking, still fighting ghosts another day?"
"Yeah, but for how long? How long do we keep getting to cheat death?" How long until one of us gets buried for the unnecessary risks we keep taking? You didn't say it but the question took root in the back of your mind.
Lockwood sighed, "I don't know where this is even coming from. We survived. We did the job. We got our money. Aren't you happy-"
"HAPPY! HOW CAN I BE HAPPY, LOCKWOOD? I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED IN THAT HOUSE YESTERDAY! One minute, we were sealing up a source, the next I was being lured in by a Type Two, ghost-locked and bleeding. Somehow, my GRANDPA WAS THERE, AND THEN I'M UNCONCIOUS ON THE FLOOR. NONE OF IT MAKES SENSE, nothing - nothing makes sense. I feel - I feel like my brain's been scrambled. It just - I can't - I don't-" Lockwood kneeled next to you, his palm gently cradling your face, and let you cry. You stayed there for a few seconds before you looked up into his face, eyes brimming with tears, "You know what the - what the worst part was?"
"What was the worst part, honey?" There it was again, the nickname. Your heart skipped slightly at the sound of it.
"That you couldn't hear me." Lockwood looked at you, pain sweeping over his expression. "I called for you. In the servants' quarters. I needed you, but you couldn't hear me. I screamed and I cried and I begged and I- I needed you, Lockwood."
He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his lap, before stroking your hair. You cried into his shirt, the white fabric turning translucent in the dampness.
"I will always come." He whispered to you, eyes bright with determination. "I may not have always been there before, but I will be now. I promise. No matter where or when, if you call, I will come to you." He cradled your face in his hands again, thumbs gently rubbing away your tears, "I will listen to you - and George, and Lucy. If you tell me you're scared, I'll hear you. I won't take jobs out of greed, we'll make decisions together. We're a team. I'm sorry I haven't been acting like it."
You wrapped your arms around his neck, tucking yourself into his neck, "I like the sound of that."
You felt Lockwood smile against your neck. "I'll take care of you. If you'll let me."
You pulled back, "Taking care of each other goes both ways. You have to let me take care of you too." He scoffed lightly, but you knew that he had agreed. He couldn't ever say no to you. Not even at Fittes.
"As much as I hate to ruin the moment, George was right. I don't want to think about how much bacteria was probably growing in that house." Lockwood helped you up, "You should probably shower." You nodded your head, chuckling lightly. You grabbed Lockwood's phone from the table and before he could steal it back, you sent a text on the group chat.
"We need food. PLS. WE HAVE NOTHING." You threw him his phone as you ran up the stairs. Lockwood laughed at the text.
"They'll know it's you." He said waving his phone as you grabbed your towel.
"Or they'll have a heart attack knowing that Frosty can change his mind."
fin.
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arteastica · 9 months
Text
early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (1)
erwin x fem!reader
chapters: (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (22) | (23) | (24) | (25) | (26)
summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)
notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?
content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters). no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)
wc: 2.1k
One could say it was the most important night of that summer. Even the cloudless sky had allowed the stars to witness the scene unfolding beneath, and only the occasional barking of faraway dogs interrupted the silence. It was the night decisions were awaiting to be made. The type of life-defining decisions that no teenager should ever be expected, or rather forced, to make. Luckily for you, you were a couple of years ahead, ahead enough to not be considered a teenager anymore. And maybe this was the reason why looking around and seeing the tightly clenched fists, trembling jaws, and sweaty foreheads of your 15-year-old Training Corps classmates made you realize that you honestly didn’t know what you were doing in the middle of it all.
The choice was simple for those who actually had one. As it was tradition, the top ten students of the class would be allowed to choose the best out of the three options presented: to join the Military Police and enjoy the safety and commodities that came with life in the innermost wall, to settle for a more humble lifestyle by doing whatever it is that they do in the Garrison, or to put their lives in the line for humanity in the Survey Corps. With young brains still under construction, no one could be trusted to make the right call. The definition of ‘right call’ being ‘one you wouldn’t regret years in the future, or next week when a titan had you in their grip.’ However, you believed that joining the Military Police came with significantly lower risks of regret. And that’s why the MP was the one you were aiming for. Or would have, if you were part of that coveted top 10. That would have been ideal.
Ideal. In an ideal world, no one would have to make such a crucial decision at that age. In fact, there wouldn’t even be crucial decisions to make, in the first place. But this wasn’t an ideal world. It was far from that. A quick glance around at the faces you had gotten used to seeing for the last 3 years was enough of a reminder, in case you had forgotten. But who could forget? All of them standing next to you had either lost someone or everyone precious in their lives when the Wall fell. Luckily for you, however, you had your immediate family alive and well in the capital. And although you didn’t own enough wealth to be accepted into the social circles of the rich, you lived a comfortable life, and most importantly, a safe one. That’s why it came as a shock to your family when you enlisted as a-
“We will reach that basement in Shiganshina. However, this requires us to retake Wall Maria”
Retake what? Your backstory was left pending for another night. Because, before you could start narrating it to yourself, a solemn, modulated voice pulled you out of your thoughts, your head instinctively turning to the stage to locate the source. And that was the first time you saw him: The 13th commander of the Survey Corps, Erwin Smith himself.
“But with the Trost gate permanently sealed, we’ll have to take the long way around from Karanes in the east”
You had heard stories about Erwin Smith. A man of unyielding drive, an iron-willed leader, a liberator, you believed you heard someone called him once. And of course there was also ‘reckless’, ‘demented’, and ‘out of it’, all of which were adjectives commonly tied to his name, especially in the capital. ‘Insane’ was your father’s preferred one, usually heard around dinner time when the topic of Erwin Smith’s latest outrageous expedition somehow found its way into the family table. And you remembered feeling sorry for the man on more than one occasion. Because, from the safety of your Sina home, the closest titan surely miles away, as you fluffed pillows and slipped under warm blankets of undisturbed rest, you had struggled to think of anyone living a more different lifestyle to yours than the commander of the Survey Corps, that one man relentlessly trying to attain the unattainable: to free humanity from the walls.
“It seems the four years we spent preparing a route for an invasion force have gone to waste”
And that night he also seemed to be trying to attain the unattainable: convincing a group of frightened individuals to join a suicide squad.
“In those four years, more than sixty percent of the Legion’s forces lost their lives”
You wondered if there was at least a single easy thing in the man’s life.
“Sixty percent in four years. An insane figure”
His voice was controlled and pleasant to listen to. Even though the things he was talking about were far from pleasant. Life scouting beyond the walls sounded as rough as it probably was. And you guessed that there was no way to make it sound appealing, no silver linings to be mentioned or talked about.
“Any trainees who join us will participate in next month’s expedition beyond the walls”
You had heard that his branch was in desperate need for new recruits, yet you could tell he had decided to let honesty do the talking that night. Because not even when discussing the dire prospect of survival of a Survey Corps member…
“We estimate thirty percent will not return”
…not even then he seemed tempted to make false promises.
“And in four years, most new recruits will be dead”
In fact, the more he spoke, the more honest and raw his words seemed to get. And while, so far, he hadn’t mentioned a single appealing thing about joining his cause, you felt you were beginning to understand it…
“But those who make it through that hell will become superior soldiers, capable of surviving anything”
You see, you had heard all the stories, but you had never seen the man before. And rumors had left out the part about how compelling he was. As he extended an open invitation to a potentially deadly celebration, his voice had a commanding yet gentle feel to it, the type associated with reliable leaders. He had an enthralling demeanor to him, the one that’s used to persuade. His words were softly spoken but rose-thorn sharp. There was something about him, the way he spoke, and carried himself. Erwin Smith certainly looked like someone who could talk the winter into skipping a year, or the rain into waiting until he got home. So yes, you were starting to get it...
“Now you have the cold, hard facts.”
After all the contemplations, it finally clicked.
“Any still willing to risk their lives, remain here.”
It makes sense you thought, why men followed him to their deaths.
“Ask yourselves, am I willing to offer my beating heart for humanity?”
Why they ‘dedicated their hearts’ as they say.
“That is all.”
Erwin Smith was intriguing. Very intriguing.
“All of you wishing to join other branches are dismissed.”
Muffled footsteps brought you back from the realm of thought. You looked around to find the previously full plaza now more than half-empty. You could hear Reiner’s heavy breathing beside you. Jean fiddling with his shirt behind you. Sasha clicking her teeth to your left. And despite the close proximity between your bodies, it all sounded so distant. As if you had been thrown underwater.
“Are you willing to die if I ordered to?”
Erwin Smith’s question, on the contrary, felt as if it had been whispered right into your ear. It felt personal and targeted. And for a brief second you forgot that, although almost everyone had already left, you were still not the only one in the plaza.
I don’t want to die. You answered in your head.
“I like the looks on your faces” You heard him say.
I don’t want to die. You repeated as you picked up your pace to catch up to Hitch at the entrance of the plaza.
“What took you so long?” she asked when you finally joined her.
“I hereby welcome you all to the Survey Corps!”
You heard Erwin Smith’s voice, now nothing more than a faint sound blending with the rustling leaves and getting carried away by the wind, as you and Hitch made your way back to the barracks.
-
“Did you hear almost all the top students joined the Survey Corps last night?” Hitch sounded particularly excited and jolly that morning. A huge smile plastered on her face.
“Did they?” You didn’t want to let yourself get too hopeful. But Hitch’s enthusiasm was contagious.
“Yep! And you know what that means right?” Your roommate gave you a cheeky grin “There might be a spot left for us at the MP after all!”
You were sure there most certainly was a spot for Hitch. But for you, that was a whole different story. You were no Mikasa. You were no Reiner. And given the fact that your physical capabilities were pretty average, even a little below that on bad days, you were certain you weren’t even in the top 20.
“Jeez. Woman, please look excited! We are set for life!”
She is set for life. “I’m not sure I’ll make the cut. It was the physical aptitude test-”
“Who cares? To hell with that test. What would you need stamina for inside Wall Sina anyway? I heard they don’t even use ODM in the MP. In our first year, maybe we’ll have to run after one of those random idiots who steal papayas from the street stalls, but I’m sure we can manage that much”
You laughed at the thought “You catch him. I’ll write the report”
“Deal!” she said “but once we climb up the ranks…” her eyes lit up with ambition as a result of whatever was going through her head. And you could tell she was plotting something questionable. But before you could start prying she added “Plus you did well everywhere else.”
She was right. While your physical performance wasn’t necessarily stellar, your academics were very good. As an overthinker, often worrying too much about too many, you overstudied for tests like no one in your class did, and your efforts often resulted in excellent marks.
“You’re right. Everyone save Shadis left something nice in my report card. Nothing personal, I’m sure”
Hitch nodded enthusiastically, clearly satisfied with herself because her words were having the effect she intended. And they really were, your head was starting to pitch more and more ideas to support the possibility that maybe, just maybe, you would be able to join the Military Police.
“You know what? You’re right, Hitch. We’ll join the MP and we’ll be on our way to the capital tomorrow.”
Wrong. Later that day, as you held the application paper in one hand, fountain pen in the other, you couldn’t help but snort when imagining how foolish you must have looked that morning, believing you would be back home as a member of the MP brigade. But there was no use in reminiscing now. You needed to focus and make the second best choice.
But focus for what? The only available options for you were the Garrison and the Survey Corps. And the choice was plain and obvious, wasn’t it? The Garrison wasn’t cool or anything but it was safe. Except, of course, for that incident from a couple of weeks ago, when that random titan showed up again, and tried to obliterate Trost District. Luckily for you, however, you had been assigned to assist with the relocation of the citizens once they entered Wall Rose, so you didn’t even have to see any titan at all. That had been a rare occurrence. And with the Survey Corps, the chances of survival were significantly lower. Zero for someone with your physical capabilities.
Are you willing to die if I ordered to?
Erwin Smith’s words from the night before showed up uninvited.
Those who make it through that hell will become superior soldiers, capable of surviving anything.
You could hear his solemn voice loud and clear, even one day later.
I like the look on your face.
Your hand now hovered dangerously over the ‘Survey Corps’ box, centuries worth of handed-down survival instincts forgotten in the blink of an eye.
I don’t want to die.
Your brain repeated as a last resort, right before the ink found the paper.
I don’t want to die.
Now it sounded like a complain more than a petition.
I hereby welcome you to the Survey Corps.
You heard him say, somewhere inside your head, as you turned in your application and walked away.
-
next chapter
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downbadf0rficppl · 3 months
Text
let me
Anthony Lockwood x F!Reader
Summary: You got hurt. It was his fault. And he feels absolutely awful.
Word Count: 3.4K
Warnings: Angst, Claustrophobia, Near-death situations, Some lightly mentioned family issues, Arguing, Couples? Quarrels, ANGST.
AN: The summary is awful - I feel like I say this every time. Idk if Reader and Lockwood are a couple, they don't have to be, but they can be if you want to. Love you all! (BTW I have not read the books in years so creative liberties were taken - I'm sorry for any and all book inaccuracies.)
Repost
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The body of one 'Sergeant M. Bowers' floated precariously towards Lockwood. He backed up against the door of the bedroom, eyes darting between you and Bowers, rapier extended in front of him. You rifled through the bedroom, looking for anything precious or valuable. You had to find the source for Lockwood.
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Lockwood had taken the case of this particular house out of pure greed. Mrs. Miller was willing to pay a pretty price to take care of her 'little problem' as she called it. You had warned him against it - the Bowers' manor was about a mile outside of the town you grew up in and you'd heard almost every story there was to hear about the house. About the family that inhabited the house. Lockwood hadn't listened.
He'd convinced you to come, saying the stories were 'probably just stories told to children to scare them away.' He assured you they weren't true. After George had done his research, you were more confident - apparently, reports of apparitions of children predated the problem and were therefore hoaxes.
The Bowers were an affluential aristocratic family before the war - the First World War, that is. "They were known for hosting Gatsby-esque parties to celebrate the most menial of affairs - like their dog turning one." George had rolled his eyes at that pushing the picture of the newspaper your way. April 6th, 1912. A week before the Titanic sank.
The sinking of the Titanic began a series of unfortunate events for the Bowers family, starting with the death of the youngest son, James. James and his to-be wife, Miranda, died aboard the ship, thrusting the family into a long period of mourning. In the following two years, 6 of the 12 members who lived in the house had passed away, forcing the rest to flee the countryside manor, claiming it had been cursed - which brought about the misfortune of the family.
The last of the family to inherit the manor was Sergeant Michael James Bowers, who was the youngest nephew of James. He had lost his life in the second World War; after being shot in the arm and leg, he had been honourably discharged and sent home. He succumbed to sepsis not long after, surrounded by empty halls and unhappy memories. Apparently, he had never left.
You shook your head in discomfort - dispelling the dark feeling that had crept over you since reading about the family's terrible fate. Something seemed off about this case - something seemed to have been omitted from all the research you and George had done.
At first, you disregarded it as nerves. The Bowers manor was big - bigger than any other case you had taken. Plus, it was close to home, which was full of unpleasant memories. Maybe the added pressure was playing on your mind. You tried to explain yourself to Lockwood, who dismissed you. Apparently, Lucy had to help Kipps with some research, and George was working on another case. There was no point in arguing with Lockwood when he had made up his mind, and he was not going to budge on this case.
Which led you to your current predicament.
There were many ghosts haunting the halls of the Bowers manor. It seemed that everyone who had died here didn't want to leave. You had rid the house of most of the ghosts - sealing almost ten sources in different iron boxes. Lockwood had danced his way through the Type Ones that he was dealing with - he was evidently the better agent out of the two of you. You had lucked out - you came face to face with a Type Two. The small girl kept repeating about her teddy which you had found in an upstairs bedroom covered in filth and cobwebs. You threw an iron net over it before leaning against a wall to catch your breath. You were exhausted - and you hadn't even dealt with the real problem.
Sergeant Bowers.
Sergeant M. Bowers was a lot more tortured than you had initially thought. His wife left him when he left for the war, leaving to follow her true love into the country - countless correspondences scattered across the rooms told you as much.
Then came the matter of a child - Timothy. Pictures of him were littered through the halls - toys left to rot in the hallways. Clearly, no one had cleaned it until Mrs. Miller bought it at that country house auction. Except the trace of him ended there. There was nothing in your research to tell you about him, nor any sign of him outside the walls of this home.
It was peculiar.
You had tried to tell Lockwood, but he brushed you off. "The kid must have died - explains the tortured relationship between his parents."
It seemed odd to you. What kind of mother would run off without her child?
A glint caught your eye. A small jewellery box lay on the vanity, dust laid over it as if it hadn't been touched in decades. You dashed towards it, opening it quickly to find a simple silver band inside. A wedding band. A source.
You placed the ring in a small iron box - one of your many engineering feats that made your job safer and easier to do. Bowers disappeared from over Lockwood and you ran over to help him up.
"See? Not too bad, was it?" Lockwood joked, taking the box from your hand and putting it in his bag with the rest of them.
"The only reason I'm glad we don't work with Fittes is the paperwork. We'd be drowning in it after tonight. Can you imagine? With all those Type Ones and the two Type Twos. I'd be crying into my pillow for weeks." You grabbed the rest of your equipment and headed towards the stairs. Lockwood's fingers wrapped around your arm, pulling you back sharply.
He pulled out his rapier and pointed it toward the woman - an apparition of a young woman, dressed in a maid's uniform and carrying a basket, seemingly full of laundry.
"Another Type Two. Great." Lockwood sighed, "You check downstairs and I'll check upstairs. She's a maid. Look for... maid things? I don't know." You nodded before hopping downstairs, armed with your rapier.
You went down to the servants' quarters, which you had seen on the blueprints of the house. The room was small, just off the side of the kitchen - and was perhaps the cleanest room in the house. The maids had been let go long before Sergeant Bowers had inherited the house. Clearly, they had taken the cleanliness with them.
You looked around for anything that could be a source. Why would staff die here, you thought, when the Bowers were known for treating staff well? And why would she choose to stay? You walked around the room, running your fingers over the sparse wooden furniture around the room, leaving trails in the dust in your wake. You tripped by the door to the bathroom, cutting your hand on a small loose nail by the door - probably used for hanging coats or aprons. You winced as you stretched your hand, closing your fist to stop the blood from dripping all over the floor.
You heard footsteps coming down the stairs. "Did you find anything, Lockwood?" No response. "Lockwood?" The door to the servants' quarters slammed shut. You pressed up against the door, trying to force it open. "LOCKWOOD? LOCKWOOD, HELP!" You screamed, trying to push the door hard. "LOCKWOOD, PLEASE! I NEED YOU!"
Lockwood called to you from the landing, telling you he's found something interesting. You tried screaming for him again, but he was too far away to hear you, just like you were too far away to help. Ghostly yelling startled you as you turned around. The maid was here, clearly oblivious to you in the room. She was humming softly as the ghostly yelling continued.
You watched her from a distance as she folded some invisible clothes, her humming still ringing out around the room. She laughed at nothing, before turning towards the door, expectantly. You turned towards the door, expecting to see some other apparition in the doorway but there was nothing. She seemed to get frantically worried by the lack of whatever presence she is expecting, her humming becoming erratic and eerier by the second.
Her eyes grazed over you, and she seemed to relax. She spoke to you gently, reaching her hand out to you, "Come, Elizabeth. There's no need to be scared." You felt the effects of Ghost-lock wash over you, as lethargy numbs your senses. You saw her drifting toward you, but you had no energy to run or even to poise your rapier in front of you. And she seems so nice.
You heard the door fly open and felt someone grab your arm, tightly. You were pulled out of the room and back into the kitchen. "Thanks, Anthony." You whispered, resting on the kitchen counters.
"Anthony? Who's Anthony?" You looked up, unamused by Lockwood's attempt at a joke.
Your jaw dropped. In front of you was a man that you thought you may never see again, "Grandpa? What the hell are you doing here?"
"I heard you screaming. Just wanted to make sure you're okay?" He said, eyes looking you over, searching for injuries. You hid your arm further behind your back, not wanting to worry him more.
He brought his hand up to brush your cheek, staring down at you lovingly. "I'm sorry about this, kiddo."
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You felt hands pulling you up off the floor, and a strangely familiar voice whispering soothing words in your ear. You struggled in the grasp of this strange person, trying - unsuccessfully - to flee. They held you firmly, arms tucked neatly beneath you.
Tired from your busy night, you gave up, resting your head against the person's chest. You knew this cologne. It was Anthony's - you teased him for putting on too much and the scent lingers in the hallways some mornings. You settled, seeking his warmth and his comfort.
"Nice to have you back. You worried me for a minute back there."
"Lockwood? Worried? God, are there pigs in the sky?" You bantered back, your voice weak with exhaustion. He laid you down on the stairs, running back to grab your rapier and your flares. You must have dropped them when your Grandpa showed up. Grandpa?
Where did he go? You stood up trying to walk back to the kitchen. Grandpa couldn't see any apparitions - if one came for him, he'd be as good as dead.
"Whoa, slow down, Usain Bolt." Lockwood caught you as your legs folded beneath you. "You took a nasty hit to the head, plus you might have had a bit of ghost-lock as well."
"Lockwood, my grandpa," You said, looking past him, and back at the kitchen door, "He can't see them. We have to help him."
"Your grandpa? Honey, there's no one here." The nickname fell on deaf ears. You tried to scramble back towards the room, but Lockwood held you tightly.
He walked with you back to the kitchen - to prove there was no one there. There was no sign of anyone being there - nothing at all.
"Look - there's no one else here. You must have hit your head while getting away from the maid. Just," He huffed, pulling you closer to him, "let me get you home. Let me check you over - make sure you're alright."
You let Lockwood drag you towards the taxi and push you inside. You let him maneuver your body so that your head is resting on his chest and your legs dangle over his. You let him carry you like a rag doll into the house and set you down in the kitchen.
You shivered slightly - involuntarily - but Lockwood noticed. He draped a large blanket over you, boiling some water for hot tea. He grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink and sat down in front of you.
He held out his hand for yours, "Let me clean it for you." So you do.
He spent the better part of the next hour meticulously cleaning every scratch and scrape he can find - only slowing down when you wince, or to pour you more tea. He makes it how you like it - a spoonful of sugar and a dash of milk
Once he's done, he lifts you again and carries you to bed, tucking you in like a mother would their child. He turns out the lights with a soft goodnight and crosses the landing to his own bedroom. The first floor is plunged into darkness, but you stare up at the ceiling.
Sleep doesn't come to you easily. When you close your eyes, the maid's face is above yours - her hand reaching out to you, beckoning you. You want to take it. You see her holding Elizabeth, cradling her as she cries. Your grandpa's face comes up next to the maid and you see your grandpa die. How he screams for you to help him as the plasm burns through his skin. Your mother blames you - tells you that she should never have let you go to Fittes. The maid shields Elizabeth from the loud arguing coming from upstairs. No, not from upstairs. The arguing is happening below you. You shake yourself awake from your restless night, wincing as you contort your bruised body. You slip on your Fittes hoodie and creep downstairs.
Lucy and Lockwood are facing off in the kitchen. Again. You sit on the step, listening in.
"She told you she didn't want to go! And now, there's a chance she won't be able to go into the field."
"She'll be fine. She's tough, she'll get through it."
"You don't know that, Lockwood! You can't just assume that everything will be fine just because you want it to be." You could hear Lucy's voice breaking as she fought back tears.
"Maybe, she won't want to go on missions anymore," George piped up. Clearly, he'd been forced to sit there through breakfast and listen to the argument, "After all, you didn't listen to her doubts when she said she was scared."
"No, she didn't. She just had nerves."
"No, Lockwood. I was terrified. And you didn't hear me out."
"You're awake!" Lucy threw her arms around you, hugging you tightly. "God, I'm so happy you're okay!" You smiled at her warmly, hugging her back. She moved past you, saying something about needing to meet Kipps to finish their case.
"I'd hug you too, but you should probably shower first. Who knows what kind of bacteria fester in hundred-year-old manors? I'll see you after lunch - heading to the archives." George walked out quickly, almost as if he was being chased out by rats.
Lockwood stood in front of you, straight as a board, "You look like you've been electrocuted. Sit down. I'm not going to bite." Lockwood sent a weak smile in your direction.
You poured yourself a mug of tea and put some bread in the toaster. You made a mental note to send George a shopping list before he came back.
"So..." Lockwood started, and you wanted to laugh. In the almost three years you'd lived with him, you'd never seen him so nervous.
"So?"
"We should probably talk about what happened back there." Ah. He wanted to do this now.
"Yeah. We probably should."
"What happened? I mean, one minute you were fine, the next you were unconscious in the kitchen?" Lockwood said, leaning back in his chair slightly.
You grabbed your mug and sat in the chair opposite him, "Was I, though?" Lockwood raised his eyebrows, "Was I really fine, Lockwood, or did you just want me to be fine?"
"I don't understand?"
"Lockwood, I voiced my doubts to you! I told you to let it go! That this was a case we didn't have to take! That we'd find something better." You were standing now, leaning over the table, staring Lockwood down.
"Worth more than 90 grand? Do you have any concept of how much money that is?"
"YES! YES, LOCKWOOD, I DO! IT'S NOT NEARLY ENOUGH MONEY! We fought how many ghosts? 10? 12? Do you even consider that?"
"14, actually."
"YOU ARE NOT HELPING YOURSELF. YOU MAY BE THE LITTLE PRODIGY OF FITTES, BUT SOME OF US ARE NORMAL. SOME OF US ARE AVERAGE." You sat back down, your legs shaking. You were still too weak to force this argument. Your voice trembled, "I can't keep up with you, Lockwood, none of us can. Lucy, maybe, but even she needs a break. Hell, even you need a break sometimes."
"We're fine, aren't we? We're all alive and kicking, still fighting ghosts another day?"
"Yeah, but for how long? How long do we keep getting to cheat death?" How long until one of us gets buried for the unnecessary risks we keep taking? You didn't say it but the question took root in the back of your mind.
Lockwood sighed, "I don't know where this is even coming from. We survived. We did the job. We got our money. Aren't you happy-"
"HAPPY! HOW CAN I BE HAPPY, LOCKWOOD? I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED IN THAT HOUSE YESTERDAY! One minute, we were sealing up a source, the next I was being lured in by a Type Two, ghost-locked and bleeding. Somehow, my GRANDPA WAS THERE, AND THEN I'M UNCONCIOUS ON THE FLOOR. NONE OF IT MAKES SENSE, nothing - nothing makes sense. I feel - I feel like my brain's been scrambled. It just - I can't - I don't-" Lockwood kneeled next to you, his palm gently cradling your face, and let you cry. You stayed there for a few seconds before you looked up into his face, eyes brimming with tears, "You know what the - what the worst part was?"
"What was the worst part, honey?" There it was again, the nickname. Your heart skipped slightly at the sound of it.
"That you couldn't hear me." Lockwood looked at you, pain sweeping over his expression. "I called for you. In the servants' quarters. I needed you, but you couldn't hear me. I screamed and I cried and I begged and I- I needed you, Lockwood."
He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his lap, before stroking your hair. You cried into his shirt, the white fabric turning translucent in the dampness.
"I will always come." He whispered to you, eyes bright with determination. "I may not have always been there before, but I will be now. I promise. No matter where or when, if you call, I will come to you." He cradled your face in his hands again, thumbs gently rubbing away your tears, "I will listen to you - and George, and Lucy. If you tell me you're scared, I'll hear you. I won't take jobs out of greed, we'll make decisions together. We're a team. I'm sorry I haven't been acting like it."
You wrapped your arms around his neck, tucking yourself into his neck, "I like the sound of that."
You felt Lockwood smile against your neck. "I'll take care of you. If you'll let me."
You pulled back, "Taking care of each other goes both ways. You have to let me take care of you too." He scoffed lightly, but you knew that he had agreed. He couldn't ever say no to you. Not even at Fittes.
"As much as I hate to ruin the moment, George was right. I don't want to think about how much bacteria was probably growing in that house." Lockwood helped you up, "You should probably shower." You nodded your head, chuckling lightly. You grabbed Lockwood's phone from the table and before he could steal it back, you sent a text on the group chat.
"We need food. PLS. WE HAVE NOTHING." You threw him his phone as you ran up the stairs. Lockwood laughed at the text.
"They'll know it's you." He said waving his phone as you grabbed your towel.
"Or they'll have a heart attack knowing that Frosty can change his mind."
fin.
buy me a coffee
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dumbslxtclub · 1 year
Note
steddie looking after extremely drunk reader??
catch me if you can | s.h + e.m
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steddie x fem!reader
content warnings: fem!reader, adult language, reader is very drunk, mentions of underage drinking, mainly just chaotic fluff
word count: 621
a/n: did I swear to myself I wouldn't write requests until I finished my other two current wips?? yes. am I a filthy liar and decide to whip this up in half an hour? absolutely. took a bit of a chaotic angle on this one, hope you enjoy anon xx
The chill of the wind burns your cheeks, but you don’t care. Or rather, you can barely feel it thanks to the copious amounts of vodka in your system. For whatever reason, you’re running. The kind of run that is so exhilarating, dashing around the grassy expanse behind Steve’s house heading nowhere fast. In the distance, you hear two increasingly agitated voices calling out after you. Your chest hurts from how much you’re laughing, the source of which is the two boys trailing after you. 
“I’m gonna count to ten, and if you’re not back here, you’re gonna be in serious trouble.” The younger boy calls out, hands firmly on his hips near the patio.
“Oohh, Stevie’s putting on his big boy voice!” You laugh, hiccupping as your legs continue to carry you as fast as they can in no particular direction. Darting, weaving through the trees lining the edge of his yard, you feel like a child again. 
“Jesus, Harrington! I could use some help, y’know?” Eddie is breathless, finally catching up to you but still far away enough to taunt him. “C’mon, sweetheart. We promised Robin we’d have you home by midnight, and hopefully in one piece.”
“Don’t wanna go.” You retort, dashing past the metalhead in a flurry of chaotic movement. 
“Fuck- nearly had her.” A squeal of laughter echoes in your lungs, his ringed hand barely brushing past your wrist.
“Come and get me!” Taunting, you dart towards the edge of the pool, hoping the threat of water will ward them off. 
“That’s it, I’m not letting you accidentally drown on my watch.” Steve jogs forward into your view, effectively blocking you. With a giggle, you stop in your tracks and poke your tongue out at him, taking off in the opposite direction. You don’t anticipate the man-sized obstacle in your path, large arms quickly scooping you up and throwing you over a leather-clad shoulder. It knocks the breath out of your lungs, but does little to stop your giggling.
“C’mon, cheeky thing. Party's over, time to go home.” Eddie says, tightening his grip around your legs.
“No, Eds! I’m having fun.” You reply, dangling helplessly as he carries you up the steps. Steve follows behind, readjusting one of your shoes which has almost fallen off your foot thanks to your antics.
“I know, doll. But a deal’s a deal. And I don’t want Buckley biting my head off tomorrow when you’re hungover and useless for your shift.”
“God, you guys are no fun.” 
“We are very fun, thank you very much.” Steve replies, scooping Eddie’s keys off the entranceway bench on the way through. “Fun enough to make sure you don’t fall in the pool and freeze to death.”
“She probably wouldn’t, y’know? Like the chief baker on the Titanic. Drank so much brandy that he couldn’t freeze to death.”
“Bullshit.” Steve retorts, pacing beside the two of you. Reaching out, you put all of your core strength into messing up his hair with a scruff of your hand, much to his dismay. He pulls open the passenger side door for Eddie, who gently lowers you into the seat and buckles you in like a toddler.  
“Mind coming with us, Stevie? Don’t want to have this flight risk on my hands all by myself, could use the extra manpower.”
“Yeah, like he’s gonna be any help.” You mutter, eliciting a shit-eating grin from the metalhead. Steve simply rolls his eyes and opens the sliding door on the side of the van, shuffling into the back.
“You’re trouble, you know that?” Eddie gives your shoulder an affectionate push before throwing a water bottle in your direction. Looks like all of their babysitting practice is finally paying off.
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blueiskewl · 11 months
Video
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The First Full-Size 3D Scan of The Titanic
The mysterious 1912 sinking of the luxury passenger liner, the Titanic, has long served as a source of fascination for many.
Historians now believe that a new underwater scanning project may provide answers to some of the unanswered questions regarding the tragedy that killed more than 1,500 people.
A team of scientists have used deep sea mapping to create “an exact ‘Digital Twin’ of the Titanic wreck for the first time,” according to a press release Wednesday from deep sea investigators Magellan and filmmakers Atlantic Productions.
By carrying out the “largest underwater scanning project in history,” scientists have managed to “reveal details of the tragedy and uncover fascinating information about what really happened to the crew and passengers on that fateful night” of April 14, 1912, the press release said.
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Scans of the wreck were carried out in the summer of 2022 by a specialist ship stationed 700 km (435 miles) off the coast of Canada, according to the release. Tight protocols prohibited team members from touching or disturbing the wreck which investigators stressed was treated with the “utmost of respect.”
Every millimeter of its three-mile debris field was mapped in minute detail, the press statement said. The final digital replica has succeeded in capturing the entire wreck including both the bow and stern section, which had separated upon sinking in 1912.
One such example can be found on the propeller where the serial number can be seen for the first time in decades.
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Roughly 715,000 images and 16 terabytes of data were gathered during the expedition – which Magellan estimates to be “approximately ten times larger than any underwater 3D model that’s ever been attempted before,” Magellan CEO Richard Parkinson said.
Parkinson described the mission as “challenging,” referencing the team’s fight against “the elements, bad weather, and technical challenges.”
Whereas previous optical images of the ship were limited by low light level and the poor light quality 12,500 feet below water, the new mapping technique has “effectively taken away the water and let in the light,” the press release said.
According to 3D capture specialist Gerhard Seiffert, the “highly accurate photorealistic 3D model” has enabled people to zoom out and look at the entire wreck “for the first time.”
“This is the Titanic as no one had ever seen it before,” Seiffert added.
By Niamh Kennedy.
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percythalianico · 23 days
Text
The little big three trio - the adventure continues
Source: other incorrect quotes, but made them Thalia&Nico&Percy
Percy: Were gonna break some laws
Thalia: Cool! Laws of what? Physics, morality or America?
Percy: Yes. That's the order we're gonna break them in.
+++++
Nico: is anyone here actually straight?
Percy: *raises his hand*
Thalia, who read his diary and descriptions about every male he met: *puts his hand back down*
++++
Who's Percy's favourite cousin?
Nico: you deserve an award for putting up with me
Percy: Neeks, you're my reward <3
//
Thalia: you deserve an award for putting up with me
Percy: dam right i do
+++++
Thalia: I got you something that will make you happy. I call them "Opposite Tortures."
Percy: You mean presents?
Nico: Yes, that's better, thank you.
++++
Thalia, during a quest: Just so you know, if you end in prison for this, Percy… I will not wait for you!
Percy: You won't have to. I'll escape. We both know that.
Nico: He already did.
Thalia: What?
Nico: Twice
++++
Nico: And don't worry. I haven't stabbed anyone in a really long time. Like, a whole month.
Thalia: Well, Nico, that's not very long.
Percy: It is when you're the one not doing the stabbing.
++++
Percy: newsflash, i have no plan.
Nico and Thalia, looking at him: -.-
Percy: everything i’ve done in the last ten years has been me making stuff up as i go along.
Nico: Shocker.
Thalia: So when you attacked a Titan and held the sky, you didn't plan it? I'm actually surprised!
++++
Percy: I never know whether I should use ‘farther’ or ‘further’
Nico: ‘farther’ is for physical distance and ‘further’ is for metaphorical distance
Thalia: And ‘father’ is for Emotional distance.
Percy and Nico: Thalia, come on, no
Jason: no, no she’s got a point.
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celaenaeiln · 5 months
Note
(catches me rummaging through the trash like a raccoon)
Tell me once again, I could have been anyone, anyone else
Before you made the choice for me (The vigilante bit was always Dick’s idea. But Nightwing was born from Bruce ripping Robin away from him.)
My feet knew the path
We walked in the dark, in the dark (the darkness surrounded both Dick and Bruce. it’s a familiar friend to them both)
I never gave a single thought to where it might lead (He was a child. How could Dick know what would happen to him in the future?)
All those empty rooms
We could have been anywhere, anywhere else (they could’ve been a functional family)
Instead I made a bed with apathy (“After the realisation of being used and shaped to become what the other person wanted, they’ve simply been resigned to where they ended up. Apathy.”)
My heart knew the weight
Ten years' worth of dust and neglect (Bruce was his dad… but did it really feel like it?)
We made our peace with weariness and let it be (but Dick, ever hopeful, lives on. hope masks his exhaustion.)
The moon will sing a song for me
I loved you like the sun
Bore the shadows that you made
With no light of my own
I shine only with the light you give me
(in my mind, i see it going both ways. early in life, it was Batman and Robin. they were so codependent of each other, they were basically one entity. Bruce could not stay afloat without Dick. Robin wasn’t able to shine without Batman. their relationship is borderline, mayhaps even truly, toxic. but neither can let go.)
Name your courage now
We could have had anything, anything else
Instead you hoarded all that's left of me (“These lines seem to indicate that the parent/partner/other person in the relationship with the singer was a control freak, perhaps even afraid of losing the singer. Instead, they resorted to manipulation to prevent this from happening.” well, do I need to explain?)
Swallowing your doubt
Like swords to the pit of my belly
I want to feel the fire that you kept from me (Dick, as Robin, wanted to rediscover himself with the Titans. without Bruce. Bruce wouldn’t let him.)
(jumps into the sewer grate and disappears)
*comes out with a leash only to glimpse a blur jumping into the sewer grate so ties up hair and starts climbing down, gagging all the way at the smell because my love for you will not be dulled by the scent of sewage*
The Moon Will Sing by The Crane Wives
I'm huge into songs with cadence because they're really addicting to listen to so when I started reading this, I could feel a rhythm so I thought I might like it. I was right!
Tell me once again, I could have been anyone, anyone else
This fits into the Oldest Daughter Syndrome post I wrote about where Dick on some level feels a sort of resentment towards Bruce. He loves him but the hurt from taking care of him when he could have been enjoying his childhood as much as teen vigilante can still lingers.
Before you made the choice for me (The vigilante bit was always Dick’s idea. But Nightwing was born from Bruce ripping Robin away from him.)
My feet knew the path
When he left he didn't know where to go or what to do but he knew what he wanted to be - a hero worthy of his own stage. And he knew subconsciously what needed to be done.
We walked in the dark, in the dark (the darkness surrounded both Dick and Bruce. it’s a familiar friend to them both)
All those nights patrolling together, laughing together, making the memories of a lifetime in a clouded gotham sky at twilight. They toured Gotham, flying through every crevices and warehouse over the years because they knew Gotham like the back of their hand.
I never gave a single thought to where it might lead (He was a child. How could Dick know what would happen to him in the future?)
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Nightwing (1996) Issue #75
source: also @paladin-of-nerd-fandom65 because thank you so much for finding it because I spent a week looking for this 😭
He really didn't know. They both didn't.
All those empty rooms
this post. I often think of A Million Dreams song from the Greatest Showman because it's kinda portrayal of Dick's mindset as Robin and Nightwing. But there's one stanza that sticks out in particular in connection with this: There's a house we can build Every room inside is filled With things from far away The special things I compile Each one there to make you smile On a rainy day
And each time it just reminds me of how in the Golden Ages Dick and Bruce used to collect memorandum of their adventures together. And both of them look over it all and reminisce canonically. But Dick was the one who moved out, and I mentioned in my B&D relationship post long ago but Bruce literally sulks in a cave filled with adventures of their time together. When Dick leaves for college, Bruce actually shuts down the batcave and leaves the manor to settle in a new place to go on a journey of self-discovery to find himself anew/become more modern.
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Batman (1940) Issue #217
We could have been anywhere, anywhere else (they could’ve been a functional family)
Instead I made a bed with apathy (“After the realisation of being used and shaped to become what the other person wanted, they’ve simply been resigned to where they ended up. Apathy.”)
Also how Bruce tried to kill his emotions are Dick left him behind so he wouldn't feel sorrow that he's gone.
My heart knew the weight
They both cried about each other leaving. Dick when Bruce fired him and Bruce when Dick left for college.
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Batman (1940) Issue #217
Ten years' worth of dust and neglect (Bruce was his dad… but did it really feel like it?)
We made our peace with weariness and let it be (but Dick, ever hopeful, lives on. hope masks his exhaustion.)
The moon will sing a song for me
I loved you like the sun
Bore the shadows that you made
With no light of my own
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Nightwing (1999) Issue #99
I shine only with the light you give me
(in my mind, i see it going both ways. early in life, it was Batman and Robin. they were so codependent of each other, they were basically one entity. Bruce could not stay afloat without Dick. Robin wasn’t able to shine without Batman. their relationship is borderline, mayhaps even truly, toxic. but neither can let go.)
Yes, that's canon.
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Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1074
Name your courage now
We could have had anything, anything else
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Batman vs Robin Issue #3
Instead you hoarded all that's left of me (“These lines seem to indicate that the parent/partner/other person in the relationship with the singer was a control freak, perhaps even afraid of losing the singer. Instead, they resorted to manipulation to prevent this from happening.” well, do I need to explain?)
There's just so many examples to give of this
Swallowing your doubt
Like swords to the pit of my belly
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Batman vs Robin Issue #3
Quite on the nose actually. Or should I say sword.
I want to feel the fire that you kept from me (Dick, as Robin, wanted to rediscover himself with the Titans. without Bruce. Bruce wouldn’t let him.)
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Teen Titans: Year One Issue #6
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Text
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Title board by the wonderful @mochie85!
Lesson Three
Meeting the King of Asgard yields a strange offer, but stranger yet is the growing sexual tension between you and your mentor, which you seem determined to fight against...for now.
**MASTERLIST HERE** Pairing: Soft!Dom!Loki x F!Reader Content Warnings: smut, extensive mentions of death, euthanasia, and death-related philosophy, some dark content (though the characters won't be), exile, moodiness, smut, kinks of various flavors (look for specific chapter warnings), trauma and mental illness, reader is a captive, reader has a body count
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As you and Loki approached the shop above your basement home, the man summoning you motioned for you to follow him, rather than go around to the cellar door in the alley. 
“She’s up here,” he said, fumbling with the door knob. “I wasn’t going to have the King standing and waiting in a damp basement.” 
“And yet it’s perfect for your Prince and his charge,” Loki muttered slowly. The older man didn’t hear his sniping. 
You were slipping your gloves back over your palms when you felt Loki’s hand on your elbow. You gave him a deliberate look, mouthing “please?” He looked at you for a moment, but nodded sincerely as the old man opened the door. You quickly replaced your security gloves and followed the two men inside. 
Loki leaned over as you walked towards the back of the small consignment shop. “It’s probably best if I do as little talking as possible, so you’ll need to introduce yourself,” he warned. 
“Why does she hate you?” you asked, more curious than worried. 
“Oh, she doesn’t hate me! Hate is such a strong word, after all. But she may--”
Suddenly, just as you were led into the back room behind a curtain, a small throwing blade whizzed by Loki’s ear, landing just behind him on the wall. The room went silent aside from your gasp. 
“--she may throw something.” 
Your vision fell onto the source of the knife, sitting in a stiff wooden chair with her feet propped up on the table, crossed at the ankles. She already had an identical knife in her hand at the ready, flipping it loosely in her grip. 
“Um, should I bow?” you asked. “Or call you ‘Your Majesty?’”
The King scoffed and rolled her eyes. “No, and if you do I’ll pierce your ear from over here.” 
You nodded quickly, looking at Loki. It was clear he was trying to make himself look a little bigger, and more confident than he was in that moment. “You can’t still be upset with me, especially after we fought side-by-side at Ragnarok!” 
“I’m the bloody King, I’ll be pissed if I wanna be,” she said. “But it’s Brunnhilde when I’m in plainclothes.” 
“You’re always in plainclothes,” Loki mumbled. 
“Hey,” you raised your voice. “I thought you said I should do the talking?”
Loki smiled. “Well? Go ahead, then.”
You nodded and stepped a bit forward. “I’m Y/N. I guess I’m glad to finally meet you.” 
“You guess?” Brunnhilde chuckled, fiddling with the knife for a moment longer before deciding to put it down. “You sure aren’t Asgardian.” 
Shrugging, you said, “It’s been a month already. Why haven’t you been over to see us?”
“Because I didn’t feel like dealing with that,” she replied, indicating Loki, who whistled gently and feigned an innocent look. “You, Y/N, should never let your guard down around him, you know. He may have stopped the titan, but he couldn’t stop the Fall of Asgard, and his moniker follows him even now.” 
Loki’s one constant was clearly that he never wanted to be reminded of his failures, and here, the King was spitting them out like a to-do list. 
“Y/N, I was a Valkyrie in my youth. Believe it or not, I’m older than this one,” said Brunnhilde, pointing with her dagger at Loki again. “In my centuries on the battlefields, I’ve seen more than you’d be capable of in ten lifetimes. I know what a snake looks like.” 
The shop owner interrupted. “My wife just got back from the herbalist. She can make you all some tea.” He let out a strong, dry cough, which looked like it would send his body falling over had he not been standing against the door.
“I would absolutely love some,” chimed in Loki. 
“And he would absolutely love to help brew it while I have a private conversation with the new one,” commanded Brunnhilde. Loki looked at you one more time, a little worried, before following the shopkeeper out the door. 
After the room was vacated, the King used her boot to kick out a chair from the table before inviting you to sit with her. Obeying quietly, you felt a little fear quicken your heart. 
“I don’t know much about you, but I want to warn you that he’s never all he seems,” she explained. “You only know of his ‘adventures’ here, but he’s--”
“--the only person who took an interest in my life,” you interrupted, making the King raise a surprised brow. “I have no choice but to trust him.” 
“Oh, you always have the choice, which is why you’re here talking with me right now,” continued Brunnhilde. “I have an offer for you: dump the Trickster and let me train you.” 
You weren’t expecting this. “I’m not sure what you’re saying. You want me to tell Loki to leave me be, and take you on as a tutor instead?” 
She nodded back. “I may not have magic, but I believe I can teach you to control your…power, and then perhaps you would make a good General for my new project.”
“Project?” you asked. “And that is?”
Brunnhilde traced the handle of her dagger with a casual finger. “I wish to rebuild the Valkyries here on Midgard. Not for any reason other than to defend New Asgard, of course. I just don't like being a King without an army.” 
“Why should I be the one you come to about this?” you inquired, sitting back. “I met you four minutes ago, and whether or not you can fight with a weapon, one touch from me and its a thousand years of battlefield glory…out like a candle.” You snapped your fingers for emphasis. 
She smiled, a new interest suddenly blooming in her. “You’re more of a mouth than I thought.. There are only a few women of the proper age around here, and even fewer with any sort of talent.” 
“And this was…just for defense?” you asked warily. 
Brunnhilde nodded. “I fear a little for the Midgardians who live in this country. Particularly, the curious ones. It will be difficult without pegasi, but horses will do.” 
You couldn’t believe it, but you considered the offer for a moment. Perhaps if you could control yourself and your touch, being a Valkyrie general…how did that NOT sound like the adventure of a lifetime? 
But then, your feelings from up on the hill returned to you: not just the feelings of accountability for your wager with Nick Fury, but the lusty chill you’d felt when you felt the bare flesh of his hand against yours. Such a simple maneuver was so intimate to you, and whether or not you intended to act on your crush, you knew it was enough to tip the scales on the proposal before you. “I appreciate your offer, but Loki needs me as well.”
“Loki needs no one but himself,” scoffed the King. 
“They--S.H.I.E.L.D.--have given him responsibility over me. If I fail, he dies too,” you said quietly. 
Brunnhilde sat back again. “I see,” she said with a disappointed sigh. “What a waste, your life wagered for his bullshit.” 
“It’s not bullshit,” you argued. “If I succeed, I’m free.” 
“I see,” she said again, only this time with more hope. “If you were to succeed and be freed from their obligation…would you be interested in being my General?”
You shook your head. “I’m not sure. I just learned how to retract the worst of it an hour ago. We have a long year ahead of us, and we’ve already lost a month!” The stress of the realization made your blood pressure rise, and your skin got hot. 
“Then I will offer my help,” Brunnhilde decided. “Perhaps two mentors can do twice the work, and your odds of seeing January again will go up. And in return, you’ll at least consider my offer. Be aware that I don’t make offers, and you’d be smart to at least think about it.”
You figured this was a person who couldn’t be swayed, so you nodded and said, simply, “Fine. It’s a deal.” 
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“No,” Loki repeated, looking down at the floor. “Absolutely not. It is not a deal!”
You couldn’t help but feel a little amusement at Loki’s distress over your announcement after having tea and retreating to the basement for the evening. It was a silly look on the Prince, standing and pacing about while trying to consider his next words. 
“I don't hate the idea, honestly,” you confessed. “She’s right, her help might put us over the top if I can’t--”
“--don’t you have any faith in yourself?” Loki groaned. “You should have left the decision up to me!”
“Well, this may be a challenge for us both, but it’s still my life, Loki!” you protested. 
Loki went silent, his face dropping into one of stone. He turned to you, deliberately walking over until there was no space between you. “What was my rule?” He quizzed, his voice low and foreboding. “About obedience?”
You hissed. “There is a difference between obedience and subservience. I agreed to one, not the other.” 
“I needed you to trust me, and now you agree to let her interfere with my methods,” he scorned. “I can’t leave you alone, can I?”
There was something feral in his eyes, but not out of anger. Whether or not you were doing so deliberately, you were widening your eyes and batting them bashfully, making yourself seem small before him, which was driving him mad from within. For your part, having Loki stand tall over you made something twitch down between your legs, and it was a sensation you were almost embarrassingly aware of. 
“I should put a leash around your neck, so I can lead you everywhere, and everyone in the village will know how disobedient my student is,” he mused, running two fingers across the base of your neck, just above your collarbone. 
Yes you should, you thought, your animalistic cravings beginning to take over your mind the more your teacher spoke. Outwardly, you just trembled, making Loki smile and bring his fingers up to your face, brushing your cheeks. 
“So soft…lovely…” he whispered. “Perhaps we should continue the conversation we were having earlier today, before we were so rudely interrupted.” 
“Is there anything else to say?” you mumbled. “You know how I feel…and how I feel about how I feel.”
“If we deny ourselves the pleasure of each other, the tension will only grow between us, you know,” Loki explained. “Consider it homework, and believe me, with what I want to do to you, it will be hard work.”
You blushed as you became conscious of the boner growing under his clothes, gently brushing against your hip as he continued to press his torso against you. He desired you. How was this possible? 
He began to manipulate you backward toward the wall. “I don’t want her mentoring you alongside me…I want you all to myself.”
“I want her to,” you replied quietly. “I..I know I’m supposed to obey you, but--”
Loki slammed his lips against yours with enough force to knock you over, were you not up against the wall now. Holding your jaw in his palm, Loki managed to coax his tongue into your mouth without missing a beat. Your head went hot and fuzzy as you melted into his kiss, losing your senses and surrendering to the moment. 
He released himself from your lips and brought his face gently down your neck, his nose running along your collarbone as he inhaled your scent. In the middle of the heat, you only just began to realize he’d removed a glove, and was working gently on the other. 
Shrinking back, you shook your head. “Not yet.” 
Loki smiled reassuringly. “You’ve done it before. Hours ago, pet.”
“Yes, with a lot of concentration and willpower!” you protested. “How can you expect me to just focus like that when you…you’re…you’re touching me there…” 
Loki moved his hands under the neckline of your shirt, slowly and softly running his fingers over your skin until his palm settled on your left breast, where he began to tenderly squeeze in pulses and occasionally flick the nipple, sending shocks through your core. 
“There is more danger awaiting me underneath your clothes than in your power, my dear,” he remarked. “I am not afraid.” 
“I am,” you whispered. 
“Another lesson for you,” Loki said as he continued to fondle your breast and bury his nose and mouth into the base of your neck, “you will never advance your magic until you let it become second nature. You can’t just squint your eyes and pray every single time you need to shake a hand. I think you’ll find it surprisingly easy to ask your body to take care of itself…”
Before you could protest, Loki ripped the glove off of your right hand with the one he wasn’t using to feel you, grabbing your wrist and drawing your palm up to his face, where he firmly placed it onto his cheek without breaking eye contact with you. His grip was too strong for you to simply yank your arm away. 
As before, he didn’t fall, or go cold, or even loosen his hold. Instead, he gave you an almost-smug look. “Ah,” he sighed, “see there? Your magic knows what you want.”
You nearly laughed out of relief, seeing the magic already gone from your fingertips. 
“I ask you to obey me not out of lust,” he explained, “although the thought of taking you under me and ravaging your body with mine has certainly crossed my mind. You fear the world. I can see it in your eyes and in your body language. You cannot control what I tell you to do, but running away from my commands only serves to hold you back. You cannot control what your magic is, but withholding it from yourself and the world is only creating a prison.” 
“I don’t--”
“--let go of yourself. Trust me. Trust your magic. Don’t overthink it. Once you open the door, who knows what wonderful things are inside…” 
Loki kissed you again, this time almost hesitating before leaning over. The room was so hot now that it felt like a fever was crawling in through your skin, making you bead with sweat just above your brow. 
When he withdrew his mouth again, he paused, looking somewhat dismayed at how your lower lip still trembled with uncertainty. Your hands were flat against the wall behind you. Loki thought for a moment that he looked upon a frightened animal in a cage. It was a look he was more than accustomed to seeing when others met his eye.
“I see that I still make you nervous,” he finally said, pulling away, taking his hands off of you. “In that case, I will stop.” 
His tone had shifted so suddenly that it unnerved you. “Loki…” you began. 
He shook his head, cutting you off.  “I’m teaching you another lesson,” he decided. “I’ll shut this door right now so you won’t even need to think about it.”
“What do you mean?” you asked, a little offended by how suddenly he withdrew from your embrace. 
“Focus on your instruction, and I will focus on instructing you,” he demanded coldly, stepping even further away. “Forget I ever proposed that we have sex.” 
You tried to re-approach him as he went to leave the room. “No, wait a second!”
“Maybe you were correct,” he continued, looking observantly at you for any signs of desperation that he might reconsider. “I’ll retract any urges to get close to you in the future. Maybe Her Majesty the King will be able to give you what I cannot.” 
With that, he quickly went up the front steps and out the door, leaving you standing in the middle of the living room, bewildered and crestfallen. Clearly, you'd triggered something in him that finally repelled him back.
Feeling terrible, you threw yourself onto the sofa, your brain drowning in confusion. I'll have to discover what's bothering him, if it's the last thing I do!
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@kats72 @violethaze @cheekyscamp @javagirl328 @yelkmelk @mischief2sarawr @buttercupcookies-blog @lokidokieokie @fictive-sl0th @jaidenhawke @caothicshit @holdmytesseract @anukulee @joyful-enchantress @simplyholl @meowmeow-motherfucker @huntress-artemiss @lokisgoodgirl @loz-3 @mjsthrillernp @alexakeyloveloki @linaax @noideakitten @evelyn-rathmore @lovingchoices14 @itzcomplctd7 @praq123 @the-fantasy-loving-angel @alexakeyloveloki @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @admiralatthebowofnails @vanilla-daydreaming
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sreegs · 10 months
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Would you be willing to share your sources relating to the submarine/submersible technology? I believe you, but I’d love to a. read more on the subject and b. Share something that isn’t a tumblr post with a family member
i linked wikipedia articles in my reblog which, themselves, have sources in their references, but i'm not sure what specifically you're asking for a source on.
i presume you're asking why i asserted a sphere is safer than a cylinder which is more or less just physics and not strictly related to subs. a cylinder has more surface area than a sphere of the same diameter therefore it has more surface for pressure to act on. moreover the nature of material manufacture means that a cylinder has more seams (2) than a sphere (1).
spherical pressure hulls are usually made of two halves of forged titanium or steel then fused together along one seam. the titan was two halves of a titanium sphere attached to the ends of a carbon-fiber tube. where the tube was joined to the spheres it made two seams. this is really oversimplifying it but the point is to highlight that seams can provide a point of failure because they're not part of the same continuous material. the more seams the more potential points of failure
if you're asking about the DSVs themselves, when it comes to functional deep-sea capable vessels i guess it's important to point out the difference between a "submarine" (the long tube shape you see used in the military) and a deep-sea vessel like a bathysphere (which is not a submarine because of its lack of mobility).
submarines, especially modern ones, can handle some pretty impressive depths but they don't go anywhere near as deep as vessels designed to travel to the deep sea. military sub max operational depths are probably classified but their reported depths are in the hundreds of meters
modern dsv's dive past ten thousand meters. which is way, way more pressure.
so to understand modern DSVs, here's the description of the batysphere concept and some of the original designs, which which were the first deep-sea capable vessels just much more primitive. they were lowered on cables and didn't travel on their own power. so they weren't really vehicles
here's the next logical step, the bathyscaphe, which allowed it to move up and down under its own power, however the crew cabin is still a sphere. you can see them protruding from the bottom of the vessel in some photos
"deep-submergence vehicles" (which i linked in that reblog) are a bit more closer to submarines in terms of design and mobility, but their crew cabin designs are still spherical, with few exceptions. the deepest-traveling ones are spherical
crew cabins are pressure vessels. meaning they're built to withstand the force of the pressure of the water outside the vehicle. DSV's may have multiple components in compartments that don't look spherical at all from the outside but it makes sense when you realize some of these compartments aren't pressure vessels. some are solid foam. some even flood with sea water by design
take a look at this diagram of the Alvin with crew inside:
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the largest pressure vessel is the crew cabin. there's a few other smaller pressure vessels to provide variable ballast (flooded with sea water or pumped with air) and some mercury vessels to provide leveling trims (to tell which way is up)
the rest of the vehicle is either pressure-resistant foam or empty space in which water can get in because the components inside are small enough and engineered to withstand the pressure. remember, because water pressure acts in all directions, the less surface area you have, the less pressure you need to worry about to maintain whatever function you need to perform. since the crew compartment is so big and so important, it's the thickest titanium and probably engineered to more exacting safety standards than some of the other parts
a couple people have already commented more on what i posted with good insight into things i can't explain as well. here's someone going into detail about the sphere vs cylinder issue:
and here someone linked a very informative youtube about the manufacture of the DSV Limiting Factor including footage of the crew compartment being forged from titanium
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hopeworth · 1 year
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dick & bruce; you'll never recover from that kind of devotion.
(transcripts & sources under cut)
Leah Horlick, “For Your Own Good” 
[You’ll never recover // from that kind of devotion.]
2. The New Titans (1988) #61
[DICK: I don’t believe this. That man raised me. I’ve gone through hell with him and because of him. Don’t lecture me about him until you’ve cared for him and loved him as long as I have.]
3. Trista Mateer, “Baggage” from Honeybee 
[I’ve gotten so good // about not flinching at the sound of your name // that people don’t know I’d still throw myself // mouth-open into the ocean // for the chance to drown somewhere you might see it.]
4. Robin (1993) #13
[BRUCE: I assumed you wanted to get away from under my shadow. Make a name for yourself. You’ve done that. Created a life. Fought your own fights. I didn’t have the right to call you back.
DICK: … the right? I’d die for you, Bruce.]
5. Yves Olade, “When rome falls” from Bloodsport
[All that matters is that you want me // Say the word & I’ll burn for ten days.]
6. Nightwing (1996) #95
[DICK: Hello?
BRUCE: Dick--
DICK: Bruce! Is everything all right?
BRUCE: There's some unusual activity in Gotham. How soon can you be home?
DICK: I'm on my way! Sorry, Catalina--I’ve gotta go.
CATALINA’S NARRATION: Of course.]
7. trans. Anne Carson, An Oresteia
[PYLADES: I’ll take care of you
ORESTES: It’s rotten work.
PYLADES: Not to me. Not if it’s you.]
8. The New Titans (1988) #61
[DICK: No. I meant why did you contact me?
BRUCE: I nee-- I could use your help.
DICK: I’m here. Anytime.]
9. Regina Specter, “The Call”
[[Chorus]
I’ll come back when you call me // No need to say goodbye]
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melishade · 1 month
Text
Now I can show all the animatic's with Megatron's holoform in it. Lol. And this is the first animatic that's in reference to an AOP chapter scene. Specifically this scene from chapter 23 of Attack on Prime:
Before Historia could inject the serum into her arm, a loud gunshot rang through the cave. Rod turned around and looked in horror to see his bag of the titan serum was nothing more than a pile of ash. Everyone turned to the source of the attack and saw that it was Megatron in his human form holding the now useless smoke round.
"No," Eren breathed while Historia gasped in fear.
"Shit," Kenny cursed.
"Who are you?!" Rod demanded.
Megatron didn't respond as he threw the smoke gun aside and pulled out the pistol. Rod yelled in pain as Megatron shot the man in the arm. Rod winced as Megatron put the pistol away and pulled out his sword. The former warlord walked toward the king, dragging the blade across the floor.
"K-kenny! Don't just stand there! Help!" Rod begged.
"I'm not helping you any more you little shit!" Kenny shouted, "And I'm not touching that bastard with a ten foot pole! That fucker's the Flying Titan!"
Megatron stopped and chuckled before he began laughing his head off. "You Ackermans are just full of surprises, aren't you? And while I do appreciate you choosing not to interfere, the only reason I'm not going to kill you is because the dwarf has some unfinished business with you. But since you're not going to attack, I suggest that you enjoy the show as I spill this man's insides."
Kenny internally cursed as Megatron turned his attention towards Rod Reiss. Rod backed away in fear as Megatron rushed him and grabbed him by the collar and throwing him to the ground. Megatron stepped on the man's throat and raised his sword, ready to ram the sword through his head.
"Don't kill my father!" Historia begged.
Megatron merely glanced at her as he was about to make his move, but stopped when he noticed something was wrong. He lowered his sword and looked at the child and noticed a syringe in her hand, laced with energon inside it.
"What do you think you're doing?" Megatron demanded in an ominous tone as he removed his foot from Rod's throat.
Megatron's holoform design
ALSO HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME! I'M 25!
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happyminyards · 10 months
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i'd be interested in the titanic fact-check post if you'd still like to write it 👀
Oh tumblr user @burr-ell, i am giving you a friendly little kiss on the forehead for asking this. I would love nothing more. 
Let's give the rundown of some common Titanic "facts" that people love to parade around especially nowadays and why they're either fully wrong, misinterpretations or actually close to the truth! With sources, because I'm nice like that. 
This will be long, but I feel like it needs to be to actually give y'all the proper information and context, and frankly I think I'm writing this mostly for myself. 
I'll divide it up into two parts, so here's "not enough lifeboats", "untrained crew", "no lifeboat drills" and "speeding & ignoring ice warnings".
Part two featuring "half empty lifeboats", "locking folks below deck", “missing binoculars", and "fire sank the Titanic, actually" is here!
"They didn't have enough lifeboats because they thought the ship was unsinkable"
Almost ship back then had enough lifeboats for all its passengers. Lifeboats were considered a very, very last ditch attempt at safety and more often than not resulted in the deaths of the people in them due to capsizing in bad weather, accidents while being lowered, drifting off etc etc. (SS Clallam, SS Valencia, SS Atlantic). 
If they had to be used, the idea was to use them as ferries to other boats. Ocean liners started getting more watertight compartments, bulkheads and double bottoms, meaning they were able to survive collisions and stay floating for longer. Since the Atlantic shipping lanes were VERY busy back then and most accidents happened near the harbor someone was expected to be in reasonable distance at all times when such an accident occurred. 
Besides that, ships had just gotten new, sparkly wireless machines, the Marconi transmitters. While their operators were technically not employed by the ship and their tasks consisted of sending letters from passengers, it was expected that they'd facilitate communication in accidents. And that system worked, for a while! 
Best example is the sinking of another White Star Line ship, the RMS Republic in 1909. She got rammed, sunk, every ship nearby ran up to help her, all her passengers got transferred over, how nice, our procedures worked!
So while it's true that regulations for the amount of lifeboats hadn't kept up with the steeply increasing size of the new ocean liners (Titanic was actually carrying more than her size demanded), the authorities expected that these new technological advancements were sufficient. 
Titanic showed them that this was not correct, so they were adjusted mainly through the SOLAS treaty (which actually resulted in tragedy itself, when ships not designed to fit so many lifeboats suffered from accidents due to the refitting, like the SS Eastland, who rolled over in dock, killing 844 people)
As for the ship being unsinkable, some surviving advertisements described Titanic and her sister Olympic as "And as far as it is possible to do so, these two wonderful vessels are designed to be unsinkable". Which was fairly common at the time (Captain Rostron actually does it in the inquiry after the sinking) due to the aforementioned new, fancy safety features. Hubris? Yes, but not a stand out characteristic of the Titanic.
"The Titanic Crew was untrained & overwhelmed"
Captain Smith had been at sea for 49 years, a commander for White Star for 25 years and the captain of their maiden voyages for ten years, including the then biggest ships in the world Baltic and Olympic. He was regarded as a "safe captain" by both the line and passengers, some who only booked with him. His most notable incident was probably when Olympic collided with the HSM Hawke, but he wasn't even in command of the ship at the time. They were under compulsory pilotage, i.e. a harbor pilot was giving the orders.
All her officers were also very experienced. From Chief to Sixth:
Wilde, on sea since his teens, with White Star for 15, including Majestic and Olympic
Murdoch, on the sea since he was 18, 12 years at White Star line, including Olympic, Celtic and Adriatic
Lightroller, with White Star for 13 years, including Oceanic and Majestic
Pitman, on the sea for 16 years, White Star for 5/12
Boxhall, on the sea for 13 years, with White Star for about 4 1/2 years 
Lowe, on the sea for 14 years, with White Star for 15 months
Moody, on the sea for about 9-10 years (including his Navy education), with White Star for about half a year on the Oceanic
So really the only one you could clock for being inexperienced was Moody, who was the sixth officer. And he was well educated and perfectly qualified for that position. Wilde was actually pulled in sort of last minute just after Titanic's sea trials, bumping down Murdoch & Lightroller one position and causing Officer David Blair to leave the ship entirely, presumably so that the well-oiled team of officers from the Olympic could set Titanic up for a good start. 
(This also caused the supposed missing binoculars, more on that below).
This was White Star's newest, biggest ship. White Star's whole sales pitch was luxury and comfort, they're the line running the "Millionaire's ship". They're not gonna risk anything, even if it's just their rich passengers having to deal with inexperienced officers. They were gonna put their best on it.
There were no lifeboat drills
Titanic needed drills to get her certifications and completed them in early April. The officers (minus Wilde plus Blair) were all there and involved, everything got checked and a bunch of the lifeboats lowered. 
There was also a separate Board of Trade drill on the 10th of April. Lightoller, Pitman, Lowe, Moody and "[nearly all seaman], including able-bodied seamen, ordinary seamen, lookouts and quartermasters" were all involved. There was also the bulkhead and the emergency boat drill.
Now there is some confusion around the "Sunday Drill". This was another drill involving the crew, not the passengers. 
It's essentially a muster plus a check of the boats, not actually anything to do with the procedure of loading the boats. This didn't happen on Titanic, but there seems to be no clear reason why. Some crew members state it was scheduled, others said the drill didn't happen due to weather, some said they only happened on Sundays "in New York", potentially because otherwise the firemen wouldn't join in. The "Sunday in New York" one is the one that gets mentioned the most, but truly this is anyone's guess. 
However, it's clear that this drill would have changed nothing. The crew already had undergone similar drills before, this one was not new information. Here's a really good, well sourced article on the whole drill issue.
The Titanic was speeding & ignoring ice warnings.
Titanic had received multiple ice warnings throughout her journey. This was nothing unusual, it was April in the North Atlantic. The ice warnings were communicated via the wireless, given to the bridge and marked on the board. 
We know of a bunch of specific warnings that were received and posted on the bridge, mainly from the Caronia and the Baltic. The Baltic one is the famous message that made it to Bruce Ismay's, chairman of the White Star Line, pocket. He showed it to some passengers before giving it back to Captain Smith.
There's two warnings that probably didn't make it to the bridge, captain or all officers. One from the Californian to the Antillian that the Titanic happened to overhear, warning of "three large bergs 5 miles southward of latitude 42° 3′ N, longitude 49° 9′ W". Harold Bride, junior wireless operator, testified he delivered this warning to the bridge, but Pitman testified he wasn’t aware of it. It could be that Murdoch, who was actually on duty at time of collision, was, but he ended up dying in the sinking. 
The other one is from the Mesaba at around 9:40 PM, stating: "In latitude 42° N to 41° 25′, longitude 49° W to longitude 50° 30′ W, saw much heavy pack ice and great number large icebergs, also field ice, weather good, clear". While this message was received by Phillips, Titanic's senior wireless operator, we’re pretty sure it never made it to the bridge.
There's also the infamous Californian warning at 11:00 PM, about 40 minutes before Titanic hit the iceberg, that Phillips interrupted with a seemingly harsh "Shut up, I'm busy, I'm working Cape Race". Now, that seems rough, but was actually a really common "tone" between the wireless operators of the time:
They were a fraternity of pioneers, considered to be cranks, and had the curious habit of addressing one another as O M ("Old Man"). A common signal exchanged between them was GTHOMQRL ("Get to hell, old man, shut up, I'm busy"), or A S O M ("Wait a minute, old man!"). [James Bisett, Commodore of the Cunard Line, “Tramps and Ladies - My Early Years At Steam]
What happened is that Phillips was working through a backlog of messages, Titanic's wireless had been broken earlier and he had fixed it against standing orders from the Marconi company (which actually made it possible for any of them to survive in the end). 
He had cranked the power all the way up to be able to understand the messages of Cape Race, which was on the edge of his receivers' span. Californian's operator, Cyril Evans, chimed in in the middle of that with a "I SAY, OLD MAN, WE ARE STOPPED AND SURROUNDED BY ICE!" essentially blasting Phillips' ears off, since Californian was much closer. 
Phillips told him to pipe down, Evans signed off and went to bed. The issue is: no one is at fault here. Phillips had already received and delivered multiple ice warnings, Evans was telling him nothing new or indicating that it was an urgent message, so Phillips had no reason to consider it important. Evans, in his inquiry, literally states that he was "jamming" him and gives no indication that Phillips was acting rude.
Titanic's speed at the time is debated. Boxhall says he estimates it at around 22 knots based on the propeller speed, Lightoller at 21.5, the US inquiry at "no less than 21". However, that is an estimation, and we nowadays think that Titanic was going around 20-21 knots. 
The officers were also unsure about the exact position of the Titanic, Boxhall actually calculated her a good 13 nautical miles further west than she was, so some mis-estimates are to be expected. We actually aren't quite sure what her exact top speed would have been, Lightoller estimated it at 22-23 knots based on "general rumours", Lowe at 24 to 25, which is a really hefty difference. 
We can assume Titanic's top speed to be similar to her sister ship Olympic's after Olympic got refitted with a three-bladed central propeller, which was around 24.5 knots (according to Chirnside). So while we can't be fully sure of her potential, it's a pretty safe bet that she wasn't going full speed, she was essentially going "cruising" speed. 
Now, was Titanic ignoring all the ice warnings? No. The surviving officers testified they were aware of them, and that Smith had told them to expect ice at around midnight and to get him immediately (his cabin was right on the bridge) if anything changed. 
Now, was she speeding? That, actually, comes down to your interpretation of events. Some could say that going "cruising" speed at night with ice warnings would be constituted as reckless speeding. However, all evidence indicates that holding your speed and posting look outs, only reducing once you actually spot dangerous ice yourself, was the common procedure. Here's an excerpt from the UK inquiry that sums it up well:
It was shown that for many years past, indeed, for a quarter of a century or more, the practice of liners using this track when in the vicinity of ice at night had been in clear weather to keep the course, to maintain the speed and to trust to a sharp look-out to enable them to avoid the danger. This practice, it was said, had been justified by experience, no casualties having resulted from it. I accept the evidence as to the practice and as to the immunity from casualties which is said to have accompanied it. But the event has proved the practice to be bad.
Titanic, by her best judgment, was not acting recklessly. She was following common procedures for a ship her size and built at the time (very, very unlike the Titan, since I see that comparison often). 
The idea that "as long as the weather is clear, you go top/normal speed" is also backed up by other captains in the inquiry, mainly Pritchard (commander of the Mauretania, who as mentioned was much quicker) but also Andrew Braes, Hugh Young, Edwin Cannons and William Stewart as well as others. They all say the exact same thing: if they were warned about ice and it was clear weather, they'd go their normal speed, day and night. They would only add extra lookouts in bad weather conditions, and only do "what they thought was proper" once they actually saw any ice themselves. 
They really emphasize the "in clear weather" part, and we know that the Titanic thought they were traveling in clear weather (Smith and Lightoller had even discussed it that very night). And they were! 
The issue is that it was almost TOO clear. 
The waves didn't even break on the iceberg, and the stars didn't even reflect off it. Meaning they saw it way later than they would usually. This was very, very unusual. Lightroller said that "the first time in my experience in the Atlantic in 24 years, and I have been going across the Atlantic nearly all the time, of seeing an absolutely flat sea.". 
This was an unprecedented condition for them, and they had no way of knowing how it would impact visibility of icebergs.
Cameron shows a scene where Ismay urges Captain Smith to go quicker to reach New York a day earlier. This seems to be entirely based on the testimony of Elizabeth Lindsey Lines, who states that she overheard Ismay and Smith discussing Olympic's and Titanic's maiden voyages, and that Ismay was saying:
"Well, we did better to-day than we did yesterday, we made a better run to-day than we did yesterday, we will make a better run to-morrow. Things are working smoothly, the machinery is bearing the test, the boilers are working well". They went on discussing it, and then I heard [Ismay] make the statement: "We will beat the Olympic and get in to New York on Tuesday."
It's true that Titanic was being quicker than Olympic, but we know now that that is mostly down to Titanic's superior propellor system (something we actually didn't know until someone dug up an engineering notebook like a decade ago). We have zero other evidence that Titanic was trying to be quicker, or that Ismay somehow was trying to force Smith to speed. 
No other passenger or crew member testified anything of that nature. Titanic was also not gonna get the Blue Ribband, as mentioned previously Mauretania was a whole few knots quicker. Arriving a whole day earlier would only throw the travel plans and hotel bookings of the passengers into chaos. There was nothing to gain from speeding.
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