the voice of the sea speaks to the soul

The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The contact of
The sea is sensual and embraces the body in a
Sweet and secret embrace …

Kate Chopin / The Awakening

  • what she says: I'm fine
  • what she means: in Disney's The Little Mermaid (1989, dir. Ron Clements & John Musker), Ursula the Sea-Witch (voiced by Pat Carroll) makes a reference to "raking [mer-folk] 'cross the coals" as retribution for not being able to pay her for her magic during her song Poor Unfortunate Souls (written by Howard Ashman & Alan Menken). How does Ursula know what coals are? Where could she have picked up that expression without speaking to a human? The only non-aquatic animal we see mer-people directly speak to is Scuttle, whose grasp of English-speaking human terminology is highly questionable. Moreover, would Ursula ever willingly interact with Scuttle? She displayed no familiarity toward him whatsoever during the wedding confrontation at the end of the film, and yet he immediately recognized her reflection in Ariel's mirror and referred to her as the Sea-Witch. How does Scuttle know that Vanessa, Ursula's human alter-ego, is actually Ursula? His understanding of human technology means he has no way of knowing mirrors don't show the viewer other people's reflections. Consider also the readily available human disguise Ursula had, complete with a pseudonym. Has she made journeys to the surface world as a human before? Is this how she is able to speak authoritatively about what human men like during her song? Who did she interact with in the surface world? Why not go there permanently when banished by King Triton? Nothing apparently stops her magic short of her own self-imposed contractual stipulations or Triton's own magic, which is presented as almost exclusively destructive in nature. On that note,
The voice of the sea is seductive; never ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander for a spell in abysses of solitude; to lose itself in mazes of inward contemplation. The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace.
—  Kate Chopin, The Awakening
The voice of the sea is seductive, never ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander for a spell in abysses of solitude; to lose itself in mazes of inward contemplation. The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace.
—  “The Awakening” by Kate Chopin

thearcherballet  asked:

jily prompt: BLANKET FORTS OK?

I’m so sorry this took ages! I got a bit carried away but tada?

Blanket forts

James rather angrily shoved a marshmallow into his mouth, his forty-fifth one that night actually. Sprawled on his front, he had a packet of marshmallows in one hand and his bed covers tangled around his limbs. His mates had left him to wallow in solitude because frankly, seeing James Potter moping over a bag of Odgen’s finest fire-whisky marshmallows was a sight to behold. And a sight the lads couldn’t take any longer.  

Forty sixth marshmallow.

Normally, he absolutely, positively hated them and claimed that they were too sweet and chewy and made him sick. He’d often make a big show about Peter’s marshmallow cravings as they were, (I quote) the “spawn of Satan”. But tonight the spectacled boy found that marshmallows and fire-whisky did go awfully well together when one was in a massive strop.

“Absolutely shit.” James fumed to himself, his dark eyebrows bunching together behind his wire rimmed glasses as he pulled the covers over his head. Merlin, he was a complete flop wasn’t he? A pathetic excuse for a bloke who had messy black hair and a humiliated soul.

“So, so stupid.” James groaned louder this time, followed by a melodramatic sigh.  

“I hope you don’t mean me.” A teasing voice behind him said. He didn’t have to turn around to know who it was, hell, the person didn’t even have to speak for him to know who had walked in. James could probably recognise said voice in a sea of people even if said person was only whispering. It really was a lovely voice, a melodic rhythm to the listeners ear and yet, the owner of the pretty voice was the last person James wanted to see right now.

Keep reading

The voice of the sea speaks to the soul.
The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft,
close embrace.
—  Kate Chopin, The Awakening
we’ve wasted our lives

Missing scene? Lol prob not, but a scene I truly wanted out of this arc as a parallel to this amazing scene and their dynamic in this:

Gif credit to the lovely @freifraufischer (thank you!)

Tagging @capitaine-odette (I’m sorry this probably isn’t the type of Hooked Queen fic you wanted lol) and @the-omega-finiens who shares my love for them!


The sea in the Underworld is stagnant yet it’s nothing short of chaos. Killian tries hard to focus on the still water, on the slight breeze in the air, or at the very least, the smell of salt from the sea, but all his mind registers is the redness of the sky, the eerie silence, the ever-present mist, and the feel of death in the air.

He notices a set of footsteps behind him – it’s not Emma, he knows, he can feel it – so he decides to ignore them, not in the mood to talk to any fellow dead person. Until that very much living person stops beside him, her shoulder lightly brushing his.

“Glad to see your brooding habits are still intact” Regina mumbles, a sort of forced snark in her voice as compared to the natural way it flows through her usually.

Killian turns to her then, catching her exhaustion in the way her shoulders are dropped, her eyes blearily staring ahead without the usual fire in them, and the frown lines appearing on her forehead.

A flash of guilt courses through him at the sight – knowing it’s this entire mission to save him which has caused her, Robin, and gods the lad down here. He wants to thank her, but also wants to call her stupid (the way she does) for coming down to save his undeserving arse, but he doesn’t.

Instead - “What is a sailor to do on his ship at night, but brood?” he tries to make the situation lighter.

“Oh really?” she quirks a perfectly shaped eyebrow, her painted lips forming a teasing pout “No beautiful company for the night?”

“Not when you’re on sea, love”

She nods to that, once again staring at the dull horizon and Killian can’t help but tease, “Aren’t you the one brooding right now, Your Majesty? You’re probably familiar with the habit; I’m sure it got lonely as the Evil Queen - all by yourself…plotting revenge on Snow White”

Regina huffs and then sighs, her voice dropping an octave when she speaks, “I never really brooded. Rage is a very powerful motivator”

“No argument on that” Killian tilts his head in agreement.

“It sort of numbs you” she continues, much to Killian’s surprise, “Filters your mind and corrupts your soul, whispering all these lies of how the darkness provides comfort when it truly just destroys you and leaves you empty”

Understanding and sympathy swarm through Killian, as he offers a shaky smile to Regina whose own lips lift up in a sheepish smile, realizing she just confessed so to the pirate.

Killian moves his hand to procure his flask and offers it to her, the feel of the liquid burning through her throat, he hopes, will help the self-loathing slip away. A bit.  

She rolls her eyes at him and he gives her a pointed look. Snatching the flask from him she opens the cap, “I don’t do rum” she states before taking a swig.

When she catches the self-satisfied grin on his face, she shoves the flask to his chest and crosses her arm, looking the other way.

They stand there in silence for a few more moments, the two of them with such a complicated history – flirting (or rather manipulation), working as allies, betrayal, attempts to murder, torture, working together in Neverland, and finally, something akin to…something.

His gaze refocuses from the woman to how calm the water is down here, perfectly contrasting the inner turmoil which is currently eating him alive. He knows he made the right decision the night before - letting Liam move on and deciding to live out his future with Emma.

He’s also a step closer to forgiving himself for all the horrendous things he said and did to the people he loved under the influence of the dark curse, for feeding the whispering voices inside his head and for being weak

They’ve all certainly seemed to forgive him, their presence here being evidence of that.

(The Charmings truly are a stubborn bunch)

But as forgiving and supportive Emma is of him, of seeing the good in him, she still doesn’t truly understand the kind of demons he fights with himself every day, the way the darkness is always at bay, trying to find a way to seep through.

Regina does.

“Why do we deserve to live?” he blurts out, turning his head just in time to catch Regina’s eyes widen.

“What?” she shakes her head.

“We’ve tortured and murdered countless people in the name of revenge; some of them who might actually still be here. Why is it then that we, who’ve destroyed countless lives, and even hurt the ones whom we love the most, deserve to go back up there and live our happy endings?”

Regina looks down, remembering the conversation with Gepetto in her office, After ruining everyone else’s happy ending, what makes you think you deserve one of your own?

Memories of the way bright red hearts felt in her hand, the beating of them against her palm just before she applied some pressure and crushed them, watching the way the life left in people’s eyes and they dropped in front of her. The way bodies piled up, the smell of rotting flesh and the ground painted in red as her eyes searched for one person.

The way Snow used to look at her, not anger or sympathy or rage, just disappointment and pity and sadness.

And finally the way Henry used to look at her – disappointed and hurt.

“Quite honestly Killian, I don’t know”  

~~xx~~

The voice of the sea is seductive; never ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander for a spell in abysses of solitude; to lose itself in mazes of inward contemplation. The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace.
—  Kate Chopin, The Awakening

Never Ceasing

“The voice of the sea is seductive; never ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander for a spell in abysses of solitude; to lose itself in mazes of inward contemplation. The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. ”
― Kate Chopin, The Awakening