#eroding cliffs

[achaotichuman]

Someone has probably already said this before but, rock chips away when the surf crashes against it enough. Eventually it erodes and molds into something new.

And the IC crashed against Nesta until eventually she eroded away into what they wanted.

Tbh I think Nesta and the Valkyries are more like the surf itself. Can be beautiful, calm and welcoming. But also powerful, indestructible and will drown anything that tries to tame it.

[nobrashfestivity]

Hiroshi Hamaya,Eroded Sea Cliff Early Winter, Fukui Prefecture, Japan, 1960, Hiroshi Hamaya, Cibachrome print. Estate of Hiroshi Hamaya, Ōiso, Japan

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[thorsenmark]

Ravens Soaring Above Grand Canyon National Park One October Afternoon by Mark Stevens Via Flickr: A setting looking to the east to quite a few ravens flying above me while taking in views along the Rim Trail in Grand Canyon National Park.

[kgolyz]

Grand Wash in Capital Reef National Park (human scale insert)

[lavendette]

Lake lookout

[ssoupcup]

peak nerd for me is getting excited over a specific rock formation which outcrops a tiny bit in one place near me and has a more visible outcrop close to where im staying on holiday. what is this formation you may ask. a particularly interesting limestone? an igneous intrusion? anything from the paleozoic? no. its. its chalk. literally just chalk. but red. bc iron rich. that is literally it. there is approximately less than a metre of it in thickness but its RED CHALK YK

[mommalosthermind]

“Oh, what got you into that?”

“An incredibly traumatic childhood and a deep seated need to claim something for myself.”

Two seconds later: motherfuck this is a verbal conversation with a New Person that is not How Normal People Talk holy shit I have forgotten how to rein in the weird humor and pretend I can People

[blueiscoool]

Gigantic Skull of Prehistoric Sea Monster Found on England’s ‘Jurassic Coast’

The remarkably well-preserved skull of a gigantic pliosaur, a prehistoric sea monster, has been discovered on a beach in the county of Dorset in southern England, and it could reveal secrets about these awe-inspiring creatures.

Pliosaurs dominated the oceans at a time when dinosaurs roamed the land. The unearthed fossil is about 150 million years old, almost 3 million years younger than any other pliosaur find. Researchers are analyzing the specimen to determine whether it could even be a species new to science.

Originally spotted in spring 2022, the fossil, along with its complicated excavation and ongoing scientific investigation, are now detailed in the upcoming BBC documentary “Attenborough and the Jurassic Sea Monster,” presented by legendary naturalist Sir David Attenborough, that will air February 14 on PBS.

Such was the enormous size of the carnivorous marine reptile that the skull, excavated from a cliff along Dorset’s “Jurassic Coast,” is almost 2 meters (6.6 feet) long. In its fossilized form, the specimen weighs over half a metric ton. Pliosaurs species could grow to 15 meters (50 feet) in length, according to Encyclopaedia Britannica.

The fossil was buried deep in the cliff, about 11 meters (36 feet) above the ground and 15 meters (49 feet) down the cliff, local paleontologist Steve Etches, who helped uncover it, said in a video call.

Extracting it proved a perilous task, one fraught with danger as a crew raced against the clock during a window of good weather before summer storms closed in and the cliff eroded, possibly taking the rare and significant fossil with it.

Etches first learned of the fossil’s existence when his friend Philip Jacobs called him after coming across the pliosaur’s snout on the beach. Right from the start, they were “quite excited, because its jaws closed together which indicates (the fossil) is complete,” Etches said.

After using drones to map the cliff and identify the rest of the pliosaur’s precise position, Etches and his team embarked on a three-week operation, chiseling into the cliff while suspended in midair.

“It’s a miracle we got it out,” he said, “because we had one last day to get this thing out, which we did at 9:30 p.m.”

Etches took on the task of painstakingly restoring the skull. There was a time he found “very disillusioning” as the mud, and bone, had cracked, but “over the following days and weeks, it was a case of …, like a jigsaw, putting it all back. It took a long time but every bit of bone we got back in.”

It’s a “freak of nature” that this fossil remains in such good condition, Etches added. “It died in the right environment, there was a lot of sedimentation … so when it died and went down to the seafloor, it got buried quite quickly.”

Fearsome top predator of the seas

The nearly intact fossil illuminates the characteristics that made the pliosaur a truly fearsome predator, hunting prey such as the dolphinlike ichthyosaur. The apex predator with huge razor-sharp teeth used a variety of senses, including sensory pits still visible on its skull that may have allowed it to detect changes in water pressure, according to the documentary.

The pliosaur had a bite twice as powerful as a saltwater crocodile, which has the world’s most powerful jaws today, according to Emily Rayfield, a professor of paleobiology at the University of Bristol in the United Kingdom who appeared in the documentary. The prehistoric marine predator would have been able to cut into a car, she said.

Andre Rowe, a postdoctoral research associate of paleobiology at the University of Bristol, added that “the animal would have been so massive that I think it would have been able to prey effectively on anything that was unfortunate enough to be in its space.”

By Issy Ronald.

[storyarcscribe]

Judgement

Namor x Reader

Word Count: 870

Summary: You chose humanity over your heart. And now you were here to face judgement by the person who shattered it.

A/N: No Namor fics yet? *Thanos Voice* Fine…. I’ll do it myself. (LMK if we are digging this for a part 2 lol)

Warnings: 18+ Only, Lil smut (if I do a part 2 there will be more lol), angst, implied previous smut, possessiveness, suicidal thoughts, war, wakanda forever spoilers, possible incorrect Mayan language translation (tried my best with research but if anyone out there has feedback please let me know!!!)

Masterlist and How to Send a Prompt

Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!

-

You shouldn’t be here.

War raged, and yet you found yourself on the sand, standing at the edge of a turbulent ocean. The waves churned just as turmoil stirred in your veins. Your guilted thoughts raced, tears filling your eyes.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry.

I’m so sorry.

You stepped into the surf, too numb to the feeling of its icy waters.

I deserve this.

Forgive me.

The water stilled, as if in the eye of the hurricane.

And then, he emerged from the surface, molten eyes filled with wrath.

The wrath of a god.

Ku'ku'lkán.

Namor.

You fell to your knees, sand biting into the skin, transfixed by his fury.

He was just as you remembered so long ago…. So painfully beautiful, like the sight of a wave eroding a cliff side.

He became more than a god to you. Friend. Companion. Lover.

In the beginning, all he asked for was your loyalty and silence on him and his people. You gave him not only this but love. In return, he revealed himself parts of himself to you in those moments together, slowly showing you all of himself over time.

He gifted you something he never gave to anyone on land.

Trust and devotion.

You were gladly blinded by this dream of a man and woman in love... A man who made you laugh so hard until your sides hurt, painted you beautiful stories of his kingdom with words, brought you art and trinkets from the depths of his home, confided in you, taught you his mother’s tongue, and coaxed your utter undoing each night with his hands, his mouth, and his body.

He was the water, current, waves, and the depths of an ocean and people.

You fell in love with a god.

But a god cannot love a person who betrayed him and his people.

He chose war against humanity instead of you.

And you chose humanity instead of your heart.

He promised to kill you if you ever stepped into an ocean again the day you parted.

You deserved his wrath, forsaking him for the world above. This war had waged too long with violence committed on both sides, but the people of Talokan, who you had come to love through Namor, were being slaughtered. The guilt disintegrated what left of your heart remained. And you came here before your anguish consumes you, knowing it was would be the end.

You didn’t realize your head had bowed in shame until you felt the cool blade of his spear tuck under your chin, lifting it up.

His face was blurred in your tear-soaked vision, but you could see eyes churned with an emotion you feared to never see….

Rage. Anguish.

Your tears flowed silently, pinching your lips together for fear of choking on your breath.

He just stood there, the pressure of the blade never increasing or decreasing. He had seen battle since you last saw him, three distinct claw marks scarring his cheek. You ached for him and his suffering in this war. If only you stayed. If only you chose him.

If only.

If only.

If only.

And then the blade left your chin. He slammed the tip of it into the ocean floor, the sound of it rippling across the water.

Namor extended his hand.

You didn’t hesitate to place it in his, the warmth of his hand enveloping yours like the sun.

Namor’s eyes had calmed, the tempest in them before now a gentle current. You were lulled by them as he brought you to your feet.

He pulled you with him further into the water, his eyes remaining fixed upon yours.

And once you were weightless in the ocean, he pulled you to him, your body flush against his own with hand wrapped around your back. You’re warmed, the memories and feeling of him radiating through your body.

He cupped your cheek with one hand.

His decision was made, eyes softening.

Forgiveness.

Namor chose forgiveness.

And then you broke, tears continuing to fall as you sobbed. “Ma'taali'teeni' ajawo’.”

I’m sorry, my king.

That same hand gripped the back of your neck, your face now tipped up to meet his own. You could barely breathe as his gaze burned through your own.

And he breathed one word, carving it into your soul.

Mine.

His mouth crashed into yours, coaxing it open where he poured his fury, rage, forgiveness, and love with your own. He stole your breath, suffocating it as he adored your lips, your jaw, your neck. He repeated the word to you over and over again. Your core pulsed with the heartbeat rushing through your ears.

And then he murmured new words in whispers over and over your skin.

In k'aatech.

I love you.

You whimpered, tilting your head to the sky and arching into him as his adoration became desperate. He lavished an open kiss on the pendant at the base of your neck… A gift he gave you the first night he made love to you.

You were his that day long before he spoke the words to you now.

And then his mouth found yours again before he pulled you under a swelling wave, sending you both beneath the surface into that vast, endless blue.

To his home.

To Talokan.

-

A/N: TENOCH ILY I AM NOT OVER THIS MAN AND THIS MOVIEEE

Update: part 2 is being worked on 🫶😽

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Some Geology Vocabulary

for your next poem/story (pt. 1)

Abyssal plain - A flat region of the deep ocean floor.

Aeolian - Describes materials formed, eroded, or deposited by or related to the action of wind.

Braided stream - A sediment-clogged stream that forms multiple channels that divide and rejoin.

Colluvium - A general term applied to loose and incoherent deposits, usually at the foot of a slope or cliff and brought there chiefly by gravity.

Conchoidal - Resembling the curve of a conch shell and used to describe a smoothly curved surface on a rock or mineral; characteristic of quartz and obsidian.

Devitrification - Conversion of glass to crystalline material.

Dune - A low mound or ridge of sediment, usually sand, deposited by the wind.

Ephemeral lake - A short-lived lake.

Estuary - The seaward end or tidal mouth of a river where freshwater and seawater mix.

Euhedral - A grain bounded by perfect crystal faces; well-formed.

Fenestral - Having openings or transparent areas in a rock.

Fluvial - Of or pertaining to a river or rivers.

Friable - Describes a rock or mineral that is easily crumbled.

Granoblastic - Describes the texture of a metamorphic rock in which recrystallization formed crystals of nearly the same size in all directions.

Hermatypic - Describes a type of reef-building coral that is incapable of adjusting to conditions lacking sunlight.

Hot spring - A thermal spring whose temperature is above that of the human body.

Isthmus - A narrow strip or neck of land, bordered on both sides by water, connecting two larger land areas.

Lacustrine - Describes a process, feature, or organism pertaining to, produced by, or inhabiting a lake.

Lithify - To change to stone, or to petrify; especially to consolidate from a loose sediment to solid rock.

Lunar tide - The part of the tide caused solely by the tide-producing force of the Moon.

Source

[beekeeperspicnic]

Visiting Fulworth

Today @jeremys-come-to-bed-eyes and I went on something that I might have been classified as a "research trip" for The Beekeepers Picnic, if it had happened a few years ago! As it is, there's no hiding that it was just a geeky fan trip.

I didn't invent the idea of Holmes retiring to keep bees in a village called Fulworth - it gets alluded to a few times in the stories, and there is one story set there, 'The Lion's Mane'.

We know Holmes' retirement home is either a 'cottage' or a 'villa', it's a few miles out of Eastbourne, and it's clearly somewhere where it's possible to walk to the sea for a swim. Sherlockian tradition is that the real-life place fitting this description is the village of East Dean.

So, that's where we went - walking from Eastbourne.

This area is famous for it's white chalk cliffs, which are eroding away very quickly. Here is a path to nowhere!

These cliffs are known as the Seven Sisters. They all have names but the only two I remember are Short Bottom and Rough Bottom.

The beach there is all pebbles - I knew that when creating my game, but I felt like a pebble beach just wouldn't look right all in pixels, so I made it sandy instead.

East Dean is absolutely gorgeous, basically everything I could have hoped for.

Here is the village green - flying a Ukrainian flag in solidarity!

And here is Mr Holmes' official cottage. As far as we could tell its now an office of the local estate rather than someone's house, so we didn't feel too weird taking lots of pictures! The Lions Mane implies his cottage is a little way out of the village, but I'll forgive them for putting it in the centre instead.

(I think that the dates are obviously the dates he lived there as recorded by his biographer - our last information on Holmes is from 1917. I think they made the right call not to try to invent a date for his death.)

A lot of the cottages in the area have this really distinctive mixture of pebbles and brick which I think must be a hallmark of the local area, but I was pleased to see a few whitewashed buildings like the ones I put in the game:

Thank you for reading, please enjoy this adorable foal.

[valtsv]

of course it goes without saying that i am delighted by the silt verses' depiction of death (or, more accurately, entropy), but still. holy shit did they execute it phenomenally. everything belongs to her! everything is subject to it! and human efforts to contain it with our words are an exercise in futility! every face we place on it is just a sticking plaster on a wound infinitely older and deeper than we'll ever understand. a small (but not meaningless) comfort. like hammering blockades into the shore to try to hold back the ebb and flow of the tide - even the tallest cliff will be eroded away to sand and shingle, and forgotten, with time. and it's always been building up to this. the song faulkner's brother heard beneath the water when he drowned himself. carson's admission that experimenting with time-gods was a failure - "right now the technology just isn’t there". it's never going to be there! it will always be ahead of you, and you won't reach it until it's your time! you will never win, but you may leave behind a beautiful ruin! every god's a god of death - it's the only thing we need them for!

[tinypandacakes]

Trapper, Keeper Ch. 13 — Calm

Tags: dubious consent, dark romance, power imbalance, gaslighting, manipulation, yandere, Stockholm syndrome, injury recovery, fluff and smut, slice of life, implied non-consensual drug use, size difference, gratuitous use of pet names, metaphors, and descriptions of König’s eyes

Wc: 15.3k [135k total]

“I see you,” König said. “Always so much to prove. But you don’t have to do that with me.”

Toughened fingertips ghosted over the heated swell of your cheek, down the length of your jaw. König’s fingers rested under your chin, tilting your face, guiding you to him. You swallowed, chest aching.

“There’s no mission or rank to reach here. No lieutenant or sergeant to impress.” Dulcet tones lured you into docility. “You must be so tired of all that.”

You were tired — more than he knew. But not just of the stressors of a difficult, busy life, but of staying on guard, of worrying over things you desperately tried and failed to control. Your resolve was worn down like a seaside cliff shaped by the will of the water, eroded by waves until the rocks crumbled and splashed into the ocean. What use was resisting an immense force like that?

Give in, give in.

König was close enough that you could smell the freshly ground coffee on his breath. Your eyes fixated on full, pink lips likely still tacky with the essence of cinnamon and sugar and the little white scar cutting through one side. You wanted to kiss it, ask what happened, who hurt him. Your heart thumped heavily, a betrayal you were powerless to stop even as you felt it happening.

“Nobody has to know about what we do here.” His voice dropped to a whisper as his mouth curved into an easy smile. “I certainly won’t tell. Will you?”

“No,” you admitted, nearly lightheaded as you looked up.

Guileless eyes peered at you, blue clematis blooming on the vine, graceful and proud as it curved around a wrought iron trellis. Pretty, but poisonous for little creatures who might be tempted to nibble on the tender stalks, to fill their bellies with toxins masked as lush petals and crisp, sweet greens.

But…just a bite couldn’t hurt.

Just a taste.

Just—

König bent closer, his neck craning to close the distance between you. “It’s only us here, little one,” he reminded you, his mouth so close that the bristles of his mustache tickled your upper lip. “All that matters now is you and me.”

Read the entire thing plus more fics on AO3

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[thorsenmark]

I Can't Believe...But I Do Now! (Grand Canyon National Park) by Mark Stevens Via Flickr: A view looking to the north while at the overlook at Mather Point in Grand Canyon National Park. I pulled in on the focal length and angled my Nikon SLR camera slightly downward in order to capture a more sweeping view across the eroded formations, temples, and buttes. One can then more easily see the deep canyons carved by the Colorado River and other tributaries flowing through the national park. The North Rim would also be easily seen looking in a straight-ahead direction.

[kittycatcaptive]

Light Yagami is the kind of monster that you don't really see until it's too late, the kind that will smile so brightly and hold your hand and walk you to a beautiful cliffs edge just to push you off. Or sometimes you do catch a glimpse of him, the real him, out of the corner of your eyes, but when you turn to look the mask is back and he will smile like he knows something you don't. Light is a monster, but you find yourself drawn in with honeyed words that feel just a bit too sharp and a smile with a few too many teeth. Light mimics the kind of person everyone wishes they could be, at least on the surface, but if you just watch long enough you can see something dark writhing under the surface. Light is some terrible thing caged in a human body, writhing and raging and screaming underneath perfect hair and clear skin and falsely warm eyes. 

Light Yagami is the sun, bright and beautiful, he is the warmth on your skin after a long, miserable winter. he brings life, feeds and nurtures what he believes is his. But just like the sun he is capable of burning the very same skin he warmed, destroying it from the outside in and the inside out. capable of causing droughts that lead to famine, capable of starving and destroying. He can dry and crack and crumble the very same earth that once bloomed with new life at whim and he does, simply because he can, and he wants too. Light, much like the sun, knowingly or unknowingly, intentionally or unintentionally destroys everything that gets close to him and fundamentally changes every person, every surface he touches. 

L Lawliet is the kind of monster who doesn't ever try to be anything other than what he is. L is the ghost you see out of the corner of your eyes, even if he's gone by the time you turn your head. L is the feeling you get when you know your being watched even when you can't figure out who's watching and from where. L is the kind of monster whose eyes seem to peel you like an onion, examining every layer as he goes, sees parts of you that you didn't even know were there. L is the kind of monster who's every look will rip you apart piece by piece just because he wants to see what makes you tick, what makes you who you are. And when he has stripped you bare, ripped holes in your flesh and prodded at your mind and examined your soul, will simply move on. when his eyes leave you with your now cracked mask and tattered soul you understand what it is to be an ant under a microscope, to have been swallowed whole, to be seen and known right to your core and that is truly terrifying.

L Lawliet is the moon, usually quiet and calm but still capable of moving whole oceans. He is the pull of gravity, The cycle of the tides, feeding and nurturing whole ecosystems. He is a pearl in an inky ocean of stars, lighting your path in the night. But the moon, just like the sun is capable of starving and destroying. Capable of eating things whole, capable of flooding whole areas and swallowing swimmers into the depths. He can erode earth and rock into sand, can swallow whole sections of earth to keep within himself forever at whim and he does, simply because he can, and he wants too. L much like the moon, is ever changing, one day he may be there to light your path through the night and the next he will be gone, leaving you lost and blind in the dark. 

[dvchvnde]

On a precarious overhang above a steep fjord, he comes across a stranded doe. 

The sight is almost pitiful. Leaning against the edge of a sheer cliff, peering down into the ravine below. 

It doesn't surprise him. 

He's been tracking this particular doe for the last eight clicks up the winding river. Following it at leisurely pace with his rifle strung around his shoulder. Waiting. It's young, he knows. Doesn't know the terrain. The area. This little fawn is from the rim—a far way from home, now. 

It's not a position anyone would want to be in out here. All turned around, lost. 

If there's anything Johnny learned after being here for a year is that it's almost laughably easy to get lost. This valley, the winding river, the towering limestone monoliths, have a strange way of bending the perception of reality. At first, it all looks the same, bar several key features. But the deeper into the park, it all starts to flatten into an eerie mimesis. 

This must be what happened to this poor little doe. Swallowed up by the sprawling wilderness. Snatched off the overgrown trail, sense of direction all asunder. Lost in a dizzying plateau. 

Without much else to rely on, this little doe turns to her instincts. Climb high. Look for something familiar—a looming waypoint to follow back to the trail like the northern star. 

He watches it all unfold through the scope of his rifle, keeping trot with this pretty deer lost in the wilderness. What to do with her is still a mystery. Dinner, perhaps. She's as good as dead out here on her own, anyway. 

Johnny levels the rifle, eye glued to the soft expanse of her meaty neck. Through the heart, he knows. A quick death. Painless. It's a shot he's taken so many times in the past that he knows he could close his eyes and meet his target blind. 

But—

The doe stops dead in her tracks. Head lifting from the soft grass she grazes on. Ears twitching. Flickering. She doesn't blink. Her tongue comes out, swipes over her nostril. Alert. Nervous. 

The noise reaches his ears a second later. Soft footfalls, a huff. It's not animal. 

Strange. Johnny was sure he'd be the only person out here for miles, possibly even centuries. This untamed wilderness on the outside of Nahanni wasn't a place most humans found themselves. So far removed from civilisation. Land untouched for aeons. The sprawling wilds was untenable. Desolate. 

The air in his lungs stagnate. He lifts the rifle higher, higher, and—

Oh. 

It's a surprise. On the ledge of the escarpment above him, a face appears. Hidden by the thicket boxing them in, he almost misses them entirely. 

The little doe holds her position on the shelf below. It's only a shallow drop to the rolling incline angled out to the mouth of the river, and he realises, suddenly, that this wayward wanderer is lost. Struggling. 

You peer down, eyes widening slightly at the sight of the deer below you, almost within arm's reach. He can see indecision roll across your face as you glance back toward the dense forest behind you bracketed by an intimidated stretch of slate monoliths that winds deep into the horizon, and then to the river beneath to. To risk it by going backwards through untamed terrain. Sheer drops. Daunting fjords. Or to take a chance on the river's edge. 

The choice is obvious. This river will lead you back to civilisation, to the small towns peppered along the forest. But some places are white water. Dangerous. The current is deadly, and there's no shore to cling to having been eroded away a millennia ago by the same water that carves a terrifying path through the fjords. 

To go forward will eventually bring you to an impasse. To treacherous waters. 

But—

What other choice do you have? 

He sees the moment you decide. When your face crumples like paper, lip quivering as you contend with the sudden realisation that you're stuck. Doomed. The only person to rely on is yourself. To depend on—

Well. 

Almost. 

There's an emptiness inside of him, a funnel that syphons everything into it, spitting it out of the gaping hole in his head. An ache. Everpresent. Constant. Hollow. 

But as he stares up at you, worry cinched tight between your brow, a magnificent bloom of absolute devastation drawing over your pretty face, he finds this barren vacancy suddenly stemmed. Filled. Stuffed with purpose. With reason. 

He can't let you go into the wilds alone. 

The little doe sniffs when you move, loose rock sliding against granite. Scraping. It echoes through the canyon, sound amplified by the jagged rockface of the monoliths closing in. She's about to make a run for it. 

Johnny can't let her do that. Can't let her die out here like that. Not when she led him right to something so incredible—

He breathes out, practiced, and takes the shot—