#crk inspired

[eliiflame]

My submission for Bright Guardian Akira’s new challenge! It’s warriors as a video game, and of course I had to take some Crk inspiration. Anyways, this is a hypothetical Spottedleaf gacha screen

[fyreflakes]

Welcome to the start of Drink kingdom, co made by me and my friend Dinodawolf! Your first introduction issssss a meme :P

[confused-reading-ink-rat]

Eternal Sugar and Hollyberry inspired Gelphie Ficlet

People who interacted with post / I thought would enjoy this

@glasstonberry

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@gayhomzx

@freshtriumphbird

@gelphiewenclairlover

@temptationapples

@trulyunwavaveringphase

@kekedamame

Elphaba grunted as she took another step forward, fighting back the ache that had long settled deep in her bones days, or perhaps, even weeks ago. She had left her Horse ride miles back in a town, Marie was her name, she tried not to forget who she’d come across. Nessarose would ask for stories when, no, if she returned, and she’d rather perish in this desert rather than give up her title as the best storyteller in all of Oz. A title granted to her by not only her sister, but also Boq, and she knew he’d be asking if she had tasted any great drinks on her way. As if she’d had time for drinks when she was hunting someone, though she had stopped for a drink in the third town, just to taste.

@gemisivi

Sweet Paradise

She hadn’t drank in a while, or eaten. Oh they would have scolded her if they knew how she had been living, surviving off of berries or whatever she could gather and river water she filtered and boiled herself. One could say that only her stubbornness to survive had kept her alive, perhaps it has. Or perhaps, as Nessa would say, it was her sense of duty, after all, she must take down the Wicked Witch of The North. Though why the wretched woman chose her territory as one of the four Impassable Deserts, she’d never understand, especially when she was described to be seemingly pampered with women tending to her every need, little cherubs, they had said.

When she had asked Nessa what those were, she described little babies with wings, youthful, yet wise beyond their years. Either that, or young animals that also dorned halos and wings. Boq had found the idea ridiculous, and so had she. Oh, how she missed her sister, how she missed her friend, and the comfort of their presence.

It was so hot, the weather was torturous, the sun beamed on her cursed skin and made it lose what little moisture she had left in her body. She wiped her brow for the upteenth time in the past thirteen minutes, what made her start counting the seconds, she had no idea.

She was going to start hallucinating soon, but her broom was still in her hands, and it doubled as her cane, a helpful versatility. The little magical energy she managed to muster now cooled her down, though it has gotten weaker over the passing hours.

Who was that in front of her? Oh, how she missed her glasses, but Madame said it took away from her imposing figure, and she was told to listen to her mentors. Maybe it was the heat that was blurring her vision, or maybe it was both, she could hardly care when she felt the cool breeze so close by.

She felt someone cup her cheek, and the cold breeze surrounded her like a refreshing glass of ice. Elphaba looked up, blinking blearily at what appeared to be a blonde angel.

The Wicked Witch of The North.

Elphaba had wanted to pull away, she should get her broom, her book, and shout hexes at the woman, or better yet, curses or whatever magical spell would spill from her fingers.

Yet none came.

In fact, the only magic she could feel was not her own, but the wind around her cooling her down. She breathed in the sweet scent of what seemed to be every good smell in and out of Oz. It smelled like trees, flowers, and everything like nature. She could vaguely see the green grass beneath her travelling boots.

“Are you alright?” The honeyed voice slipping from those sweet lips is simply unfair, a debate she’d never argue, she couldn’t complain when that sweet melody was somehow healing her hearing. 

Oh there was that hand on her cheek again, a thumb was rubbing against it. She could hear The Witch’s— No, Glinda, her name was Glinda, that’s what she was saying, right? Oz, Elphaba needed to focus on something other than her eyes, was she even focusing? Oh yes, Glinda’s eyes were flicking between shades of bright pale blue and beautiful deep brown. Was she holding out her hand, oh, Elphaba was taking it, she hadn’t realized her broom had slipped out of her hands. It laid somewhere on the grass, along with her travelling bag that had long disappeared down her shoulders.

And once Glinda held Elphaba’s hand in her own, they were off, flying over tulip fields. She could see some of the cherubs Glinda had at her beck and call, tending to the flowers and the gardens that their mistress had laid as their tasks. No wonder the place looked so heavenly, there was a worker at every corner, keeping the place in its beautiful almost untouched state.

Finally, they land, a pagoda somewhere, or a fountain. It had Glinda’s statue at its center, wings spread, the marble somehow catching the softness of her feathers, the sculptor had clearly worshipped their model. Elphaba would have too.

What did she just think?

She wasn’t thinking, that was true, her feet touched the marble floor with Glinda’s hand still in her own. Fingers intertwined, soft skin against her green, caressing her heart directly as Glinda’s thumb brushed against her ring finger.

“This paradise, do you like it, Elphaba?” Glinda smiled, a genuine smile that flashed her joy like starlight. It was distracting her, Elphaba knew, but maybe she didn’t mind being distracted by her. 

“Yes, I do.” She was surprised when Glinda heaved a sigh of relief, her wings’ feathers calming down, as if they had been previously at rest.

“I’m glad,” Another smile, Elphaba felt like she was being spoiled by this woman. She probably was, maybe she should be concerned why she wasn’t bothered by it.

With the grace of a swan, Glinda sat on a throne, more similar to a couch, placed adjacent to her statue. It was made of marble, its importance accentuated by the golden flecks spread across it, gilded with precious stones and beautiful rose-gold, just like the ones on her headdress. 

She laid languishly, addressing the sorceress in front of her with an easy and tempting smile. Oh, Elphaba did not regret taking her hand, not when she looked at her like she had hung the stars, the intensity alone almost made her dizzy.

“Please,” She began, “Try to forget your worries and troubles, and for the first time in," she paused, contemplating her next words. "What I am sure is a long time, allow yourself a moment of rest." she giggled before adding. "After all, I made this whole paradise, it'd be a waste not to use it.” 

She sighed, her gaze landing solely on Elphaba once more, an admiration beyond words, now portrayed by actions with magical talents beyond her comprehension. “It's for you,” she breathed adoration for her like it was air, “And for you alone.”

“For me?” Elphaba asked absentmindedly, her eyes betraying her as it briefly glanced at her lips. She didn’t know when she had gotten close enough to do so.

“For you,” Glinda leaned closer, staring deep into Elphaba’s eyes enough to show her own reflection. The flecks of gold in those green were truly lovely, she was a treasure, after all, even if she was sent after her.