MOVED.

an indie ella blog from disney's 2015 cinderella private & selective written by sherry est.may 2015

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/h eavy breathing.

so. i’ve decided to move ella to another blog and do a reboot of sorts. i’ve just... idk. i felt it was the right move? as a result, all ongoing threads will be dropped. for this, i’m truly sorry to all my partners who’ve been waiting so long. i’d like for her to keep all the relationships she’s gained here; but if you do not want that for your muse, that’s cool. 

catch you on the other side, friends !

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———   ONE QUESTION   :   IS IT TOO LATE TO CHANGE THE NAME   ?

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                                RED ; the colour of extreme intensities, of love & lust,                                            of rage & fear, of passion untempered.                                     RED ; the colour that runs through her veins.

an independent elektra natchios. strictly mcu-based. private & selective. multi-everything.                                                           authored by sherry. 

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Richard Madden and Lily James as Romeo and Juliet

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& batmanbeyond

WELL    ,    SHE  ASKED  FOR  IDEAS    .        ❛        we  can  steal  candy  from  babies  or    ,    y’know  what    —    we  can  buy  donuts    &    bring  them  to  dick    !    cops  love  donuts    ,    right    .    y’don’t  think  he’d  be  offended  by  the  stereotype    ….        ❜

     OH, WHAT WILL SHE DO WITH YOU.   “ i think dick would just be happy       we didn’t get arrested for stealing sweets. although, we could avoid the risks of both       scenarios by bringing him cake ? and coffee ? and we’ll get you the doughnuts. ”

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& somniferi

                      at least there’s peace,  in the slump of her posture,  as she tries her best to rest.  the slow tick of a twenty –– minute nap,  in the heat of her study,  with only the cheapest cup of tea to pay as rent.  surely,  the benefits of a friend are many:  she’s almost sure she’d have been excused by now,  if she’d been  ANYBODY  else.

     THE SIGN ON THE DOOR SAYS CLOSED.  another work day has faded            to its end and the crowd has cleared. none remained except for the staff that         whispered goodbyes on their way out, a friend asleep at a table, and herself. she       gazes at the woman at rest, wordless, teapot in hand. the only sound of prominence      is the twinkling sound of hot tea being poured ; a refill that may be needed, for later. 

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henlo friends, i am here. trying to drafts. but ?? while i try to actually write ??? feel free 2 like this for a lyric starter ???

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                                                                       IN   THE   FANTASTIC   FOUR   .

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like a butterfly, you must be reborn.

Time passed. The sun had set, its radiant light long gone, faded into bleak darkness. In the attic where Ella was locked away, these conditions were magnified – more so now than ever, as she lay weeping against the wooden door, the draft chilling her to the bone. Yet little did she care. How could she? All her energies had been exhausted in caring, however nothing seemed to be of use. The very things that provided her hope, kept her heart beating with a lifeblood, were still ripped away, leaving naught but an ache that sought to claim her being. 

For so long, this was the state she fought against. To prove it, she bore a weary appearance. Golden curls turned into matted knots, dark circles framed brown irises, what were delicate hands now had become covered in callouses; a glowing radiance transformed into ashen skin against thin, brittle bones.

                                          Cinderwench!                                                                                                         Dirty Ella!                                                               CINDERELLA! 

That was what they called her. And, as she was taught, names have power, so that was what she would become. How satisfied the Tremaines must be            Lady Tremaine especially. To the end, Ella had tried to be kind, to have courage to do what was good and right, to honour the promises she made to Mother and Father; but alas, cruelty continued in its selfish path, seeking to rob an entire future, in spite of the good that tried to overcome it. Never before had anger been properly allowed to embitter her heart, yet now, as she cried out to no one, it gushed through her veins, with grief and despair following its wake ( over and over and over again, unrelenting in revenge. )

What would           could           have been brighter days spent with Kit would never be, stolen from within her grasp. Their eyes would not meet; their smiles would not share whispers of joy to each other; they would not converse in ( barely ) disguised I Love Yous; they would not share the warmth of an embrace, the delicacy of a kiss; and they would not be intertwined together in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse.

But, if there was a fragment of hope to be found in her heart still, it was for that he would be able to find true love, even if she were not the blushing bride to be wed to him.

At last, dawn began to approach, illuminating the darkened room with faint sunbeams. Slowly, the light spread into every nook it found           including the hole in the floorboards, where Ella kept her most treasured possessions. This realisation drew her forlorn gaze towards the hidden crate; her body's movements following not far behind. She pushed herself up, despite tired limbs making protest at what felt like lengthy steps against the cold floor. 

When her knees knelt on the ground, her palms swiftly wiped away remaining tears that blurred her vision, only to have another strong wave of bitterness replace them as she inspected the objects. Mother's portrait was cracked; the paper butterfly Father gifted her, torn. True, they were only material items, but these were some of their last remnants they left for her, and even those were not spared from damage. 

                                                               I'm sorry, Mother...                                                                I'm sorry, Father...                 I've failed you. I tried to have faith. I tried to uphold my promises. But I couldn't. 

" I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. "  Countless mumbled apologies spilled forth from her lips. Tears continued to pour out, in spite of her body's reaction to the pain they caused. From her head to her stomach, a nauseating affliction started to pound. Her frame, weak as it was, could not take the strain, and so barely held together, trembling under the weight. It hurt. From the inside out, she hurt. And as of then, all she desired was for this anguish and torment to end.

In that moment, it was as though Heaven heard her, and opened up its gates, allowing Ella to receive one more gift from her beloved parents. 

A blanket of warmth sheltered her from the lingering chill, provided by the rising sun. Comfort settled into her skin, its ease aiding her lungs so she could breathe. Each breath drawn in further swept in a calm that steadied her heartbeat. Slowly, but surely, the throbbing pain began to lift. As the tears came to an end, she looked once more at the objects within the crate; this time, allowing sweet memories of her golden childhood to return to the focus of her mind.

Landscapes of the times spent riding on horseback with mother through the forests; of reading plays and poems with father in his study; of their smiles glowing bright as a family, just the three; of all the lessons these two vibrant hearts had taught hers during their fleeting, precious moments with together           all began to come alive again.

                                                    And then          an epiphany.

So much, her parents had taught her. Given her so much. And through all that the Tremaines had done to her, with their avaricious grips and viperish tongues, Ella           Cinderella, even           had tried and tried and tried to to cling steadfast to the treasures they left deep within who she was. Even in the face of a storm, when again threatened to be stripped of what she cherished, fearing the unknown, she still chose to hold on. No matter what would become of her.

So how, then, could she lose to cruelty now? Give up the person she knew her parents would be proud of? Because maybe, maybe... Even after all that has been torn from her... That would be enough.

The morning light now in full view, clear blue skies hung above the lands, Ella           Cinderella           turned towards the window wearing a smile that touched her eyes; as though warm brown irises, tired but full of life still, could peer into the clouds and into heaven above. As bluebirds chirped outside and the pitter patter of scurrying mice feet drew into the room, she whispered this phrase to herself, that carried her through all the trials of life           this promise, prayer, and sign of gratitude...

                                                      Have courage, and be kind.

[ghiblicottage]

“ It’s made of glass. ”

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i think i should talk a little bit about my dip in activity on ella. by no means am i thinking of abandoning my precious blue butterfly again, but i’ve been feeling like... idk. an inadequateness ? a staleness ? in my writing has been present on her. and in part, i think that’s due to me needing to discover a fresh love and perspective on her character. which i’ll hopefully be doing next week ; along with replying to drafts. in the meantime, catch me on elsa. ily. xo

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& fitzhcrbert

   there’s the attempt  ,  pursing lips    &    pushing at the dainty hand that’d moved to replace his own   .   cranium shakes  ,   retaliating her claim   .      ❛        nah     ——       it’s fine   ,   i’m fine   !    ❜      he’s defeated   ,   however   ,     &     allows himself against soft sheets   ,   jaw tight from the pain    &    then releases   .   a brisk pat to her hand   ,   gracious    &    affectionate before the arm folds over his features   .   a breath    &    he takes on a softer tone   ,      ❛         don’t have to do this   ,   y’know   .       ❜     what’s familiar   ,   however   ,   is what hounds   .   something playful   ,   a smirk is the only thing visible beneath his arm   .     ❛         i’m a big boy   .   i can dress myself    &    everything .      ❜

    “ BIG BOYS ACCEPT HELP WHEN THEY NEED IT. “  though her        words may sting, they are laced in tender tones. the barest trace of a smile       could even be seen curling at the edges of her roseate mouth. as he shifts, so       does she                     hands firmly pressed to his wound until crimson ceases      to spill. briefly, she wonders how this man found himself in a peril that threatened       his life. a question for another time, perhaps.  “ just relax and breathe. consider      doing so a... return for the favour, if it helps. “ 

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doing things on elsa today, but i may be here later on to reply to a thread or two. i’ll be on skype and discord if anyone wants to plot, too. c: hmu @ badwolfsherry or sherryts13#1785.

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“ as dangerous as she was fair. ” / an ind. queen elsa from disney’s frozen. film based & headcanon heavy. re-est. july 2017. penned by sherry.

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& classeact

    ’     i   had   you   pegged   for   a   prude   since   i   first   saw   you ,     ‘      he  teases  ,     a   mocking   tone   with   poisonous   words .     he   offers   a   deep   sigh  ,     leaning   back   against   the   nearest   wall   with   his   arms   folded .     he   can   only   put   effort   into   conversations   for   so   long  ,     can   only   keep   the   act   up   when   he’s   interested .

        ‘     good   luck   finding   someone   with   a   perfect   heart  ,     then .     ‘

    IF HIS WORDS ARE MEANT TO WOUND,  he would have to be disappointed.             there are worse names to be called than a prude, where opinions of identity are        concerned. she simply shrugs, aware of such possibilities, as though she is now more        than just flesh.  “ if perfect exists, that is ? he needn’t be, as long as he is kind towards      others and we share common interests, i shall be content. “

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afshuukhtjgr i’m sorry i’ve been so bad with replies lately, guys. i’ve just ?? been feeling really inadequate with my writing and portrayal as of late ?? so i ?? just end up not writing lmao. but i’ll def try to reply to some stuff tomorrow. hopefully. in the meanwhile, feel free to tag me in things or jump into my messages. 

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explain the reason for your url