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sugarpiehoneybog-blog · 9 years ago

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GWAAHHHHHH I just saw this now, I’m so terribelelle OTL

NONETHELESS

Oh my Goddd this was so much fun to read!!! AnD YOU BROUGHT MY BABY BOYS TO LIFE!!! THIS IS SUCH BEST!!! THANK YOU THANK YOU SO MUCH

THE BOYS WERE SO ADORABLE, ROLAND COULD STILL USE A GOOD KICK IN THE ARSE, AND THERE’S NOTHIN’ BETTER TO TOP IT ALL OFF WITH A FINE SWIG OF BUTTERFLY BOG. VERY VERY NICE. I WOULD DRAW SOMETHING OFF OF THIS IF I COULD BUT I AM RESTRICTED AT THE MOMENT WEEPS

THANK YOU SO MUCH AGAIN, DARLIN’! I HOPE YOU HAD A WONDERFUL CHRISTMAS!!!

To @sugarpiehoneybog!!! This is your Strange Magic Secret Santa gift. Unwrap it with care…because the best part is the wrapper…oh wait it doesn’t come with that :P Merry Christmas!!!

**tear imaginary wrapper here**

More Powerful than a Potion

Roland is at it again—sticking his tongue into the poor, purple bug’s mouth. His own exuberant mouth continues to lap, trying to draw a response and the poor creature, her or his or its antennae getting pinched and twisted in the process. Its squeaky moan more from discomfort than pleasure, but from pleasure Roland thinks it is.

The moth boy, his brown-greenish wings already squirming in discomfort, can only raise both his palms, covering his face, not wishing to see more. His boss—Roland—has really lost his marbles.

Compelled to elbow his companion, the one that looks exactly like him, he mumbles around his palms, “Zef, we really have to do something about this.”

“What exactly you have in mind, Pyr?” Zef asks in a whisper as he twists too his head away from the scene in front of him.

Dei, with pointy ears pricking, the third of Roland’s moth boys whispers back, “I have an idea.”

—o0o—

Princess Marianne, her beautiful purple wings flapping in the air, wears her blindfold while training with the three tiny flower sprites.

Just the day before, Bog had easily unarmed her and not repeating his mistake of before he went to catch her sword as it flew downwards before she could. She ended up without a sword and with a smirking boyfriend.

Never again! She huffs to herself. The need to be on top form has intensified more so now than before, for she won’t give the Bog King an easy opponent.

Eyes covered, Princess Marianne, raises her sword in readiness, trying to feel for the little disturbances in the air created by her littlest companions.

But none are forthcoming.

Marianne smiles. The little sprites are getting better too, not just her, for she can’t even feel them approach. Pivoting alertly in the air, head tilted to the side, she tries to locate them—

The wind, it pushes on her, giving her the clue that something much bigger than her flower skirted companions are approaching but before she can remove her blindfold, two hands grab each of her arms.

She tries to fly away as she shakes those arms off, but the manacle of hands hold on to her, her sword remaining useless when the arm gripping it is held immobile. Then another set of hands grip her wing, clipping one then the other using what she thinks is a grass stalk rope.

Marianne growling angrily under her breath, “Let me go!” However, there’s no answer except for an oleander leaf that is shoved into her face. The pungent smell coming from the cut leaf makes her fell faint. She is supposed to be safe here in her own backyard but obviously she isn’t—not from her own kind.

Before she totally loses consciousness, she has the sinking feeling that the three fairies—males no doubt—mean business. “Bog!” she tries to scream but the word just comes out no stronger than a whisper. Then in a heartbeat, she drops her sword to the ground as she loses her fight to stay awake.

—o0o—

“I believe, sire, that Princess Marianne had disappeared,” says a servant, eyes downcast as he kneels before the Fairy King. “We found her sword.”

“The Bog King—he kidnapped my daughter!” the Fairy King accuses in a puff. His youngest daughter before and now his oldest. The King of the Dark Forest needs to be stopped in taking his daughters against their will.

“Oh don’t be silly, daddy. Bog doesn’t need to kidnap Marianne,” admonishes Dawn, her blue eyes twinkling with mirth. “All he needs to do is ask my sister to live with him and she will go willingly.”

King Dagda splutters, “No.”

“Daddy, yes.” Dawn puts on a sad expression. “It seemed that the Bog King wouldn’t even consider asking Marianne for her hand. So now that sister of mine—love her to bits—but really she couldn’t just say, ‘So be it.’”

“So be it? What does that mean?” the Fairy King asks in a rush, color draining from his face. His youngest daughter before and now his oldest. An elf for a son-in-law isn’t that bad, really. But the King of the Dark Forest—a goblin—no less, that is quite bad!

“Oh that Marianne is willing to live with Bog in sin if need be,” Dawn answers, gushing the words as if her tongue has been unstuck suddenly. “That oh maybe she—they disappeared—that they already eloped and they’ll be back when they’re married and pregnant and you can’t do anything about it.”

The King of the Fairies looks petrified. "Call the troops!” he hollers.

Dawn’s blue eyes widen. What has she done?! “Where—where you going?” she stutters in dread. She should have bought more time for her sister—not take them away from her.

King Dagta stands from his throne seat, his back straight, his stomach out as he proclaims, “We’re going to storm into the Dark Forest and reclaim your sister.”

“But—but they might not have gotten married first. Maybe they did the—the deed and now, you know Marianne’s pregnant,” stammers Dawn, grasping at straws. “We should just wait for them to get back.”

—o0o—

“What do ye mean Marianne has disappeared?” the Bog King asks in a snarl, “In broad daylight, in yer own kingdom.”

“Oh come now, where is my daughter?” the Fairy Kings demands adamantly. Not backing down, not when his own moth guards are behind or flanking beside him.

“I dinna know,” answers the Bog King with a frown. The Fairy King appears to be truly frantic as if his daughter is truly missing. It isn’t a ruse? The Bog King then wonders, and with the answer to that, cold fear spreads throughout his thin, winged body.

“You take Marianne out in this instant!” orders the king of the fairies to the king of the goblins.

Instead of answering back, the King of the Dark Forest stands from his throne and flapping his tattered dragonfly wings, flies suddenly, his actions swift and almost manic. “I’m going to look for her!” he calls out, on his way.

The King of Fairies tries to follow, still demanding to see his daughter. Only when he finally notices that the Bog King is shouting—that obviously, the goblin’s bad temper is back as he yells orders to his goblin troops to go look for his Marianne—does the Fairy King recognizes that the blue eyes that stared back at him moments ago didn’t look guilty. The blue orbs actually look frightened…frightened that something bad has happened to Marianne.

It is a belated realization; the possibility that Princess Marianne is truly in danger never once occurred to him. “You really don’t know where she is?” King Dagda asks, this time knowing the answer even if the goblin king doesn’t bother to open his mouth with a reply.

Hearing the anxiety in the other king’s voice, the Bog King stops to swivel in midair, turning around in order to look at the older king. Unfortunately, the lines of worry now marring Marianne’s father’s face age him more.

With eyes rendered the darkest blue with the same anxiety, the Bog King answers quietly, “Aye I—we both don’t know where she is. But she’s a tough girl. She’ll be fine.”

The Fairy King’s mouth opens and then closes without saying a word.

The gloomy look on those intense blue eyes reaches its claws for King Dagda, paralyzing him with more fear, rendering the goblin king’s optimistic words about Marianne’s abilities useless. “Oh my God where could Marianne be?!” he groans. “She couldn’t have been eaten by…by lizards you think?”

Bog trusts Marianne’s capabilities but lizards, weasels, even birds get hungry and— “THANG! EVERYONE!” the goblin king shouts, ”LET’S GO!”

—o0o—

“YOU WANT ME TO DO WHAT?!” Marianne roars, fuming mad at her captors.

“Please, princess. You may be right. Roland’s a jerk, a low life but even he doesn’t deserve to—to hump such an ugly creature,” Pyr reveals.

“Say ugly again and I will walk out of this place,” scowls Marianne.

“Ugly?” Zef chokes on the word. “Princess, you heard ugly but not…” How can Princess Marianne give more importance to a bug than a fairy, he can’t understand but maybe she just doesn’t understand what was said so he tries again. “Didn’t you hear, Your Highness? Pyr said Roland’s been trying to—to—get into that creature’s nonexistent pants.”

Marianne puts her hands akimbo, blatantly showing she doesn’t care. Period.

The third moth boy, Dei, the one that weeks ago suggested the love potion to Roland, suddenly suggests to Marianne. “If you won’t do it for Roland, at least do it for the poor creature he has fallen in love with.”

Sporting a solemn look, Pyr adds, “That Purple Bug is suffering tremendously, Princess.”

And Dei nails it, “You are its only hope, Princess Marianne.”

—o0o—

“There is another…”

That fairy, Marianne saw Roland smooching that fateful day, may hold the key to Roland’s black heart.

Roland’s faithful moth boys 1, 2, and 3 fly off and return with the green-winged fairy presenting her to Princess Marianne.

Marianne watches the female fairy’s bowed brown head. She looks thinner now and her posture with a tired slump.

Roland had hurt them both but Marianne was able to bounce back, definitely stronger than before. But this fairy Roland had called a passing fling…she still looks hurt.

With this fairy’s love surely Roland will be back to his old narcissistic way. Marianne wonders if that’s good or bad—probably bad but then she remembers the purple bug’s pitiful cries she had witnessed when hidden behind a boulder, the three moth boys had shown her Roland and his lady bug.

She wasn’t going to agree to their mad scheme but what she saw has convinced her to help them…that poor purple bug is bombarded with Roland’s lavish unwanted attention and stupid hair twirling.

With a sigh, Marianne grabs the other girl’s limp hand. “Roland needs you. Do everything in your power to help him.”

“You—you don’t hate me?” Flour, the green-winged fairy asks, voice sounding alive and hopeful.

Marianne replies with a genuine smile. Actually, she’s grateful to the girl.

If she hadn’t witnessed Roland kissing Flour, they would be married by now. And that thought as usual gives her that spine tingling revulsion of what could have been. She had a lucky escape from the clutches of Roland, thanks to this girl…

True love. Roland must really love Flour in order for him to be free of the potion. That sets Marianne’s guilt away from what she’s asking out of the poor girl fairy.

—o0o—

After signaling Roland’s three henchmen to hide, Marianne then chooses a craggy rock to conceal herself.

Roland is coming, singing about nothing but love would last forever, alternating from clutching his lady bug tight in his arms to twirling it around.

Flour comes out, out of the tall stalks of grasses, at a run, much like the first time Marianne saw her before, greeting Roland with a ready kiss.

Roland’s arms go around the fairy, freeing the purple bug from his grasp in the process as he returns the kiss.

The purple bug, its tiny wings carrying its large body flap energetically; trying to put as much distance from Roland as it can.

Pyr, Zeb and Dei, all three start to smile, about to fist bump each other in cheer when suddenly, abruptly Roland pushes Flour away and swiftly makes a grab for the fleeing bug.

Roland catches the bug happily, thinking her/him/it flirting with him.

“Oh don’t be jealous darling—although I admit, I thought making you jealous will ruffle your sexy bum a bit and it does. You being jealous makes me feel ecstatic with delight,” gasps Roland; smooching the purple bug enthusiastically.

Flour, crushed, flees; leaving Roland’s side…forever.

The moth boys’ mouths hang open.

The bug squeaks forlornly.

And Marianne goes out of her hiding place and shouts her frustration at Roland, “You stupid nimwit! Seeing you like this made me realize, I love you!”

Her pissed off voice carries through the woods to Roland while her hand, concealed at her back, has her index and mid finger crossed and remained unseen by the male fairy.

Roland’s pointy ears twitch.

The Bog King and his troops also hear Marianne’s admission loud and clear. Shoulder plates tensing, tattered wings buzzing, the Goblin King, anger adding fuel to his fast mad flight, swipes down and attacks Roland with his bejeweled staff.

“What are you doing?” Marianne yells after Bog, flying towards him and Roland. Cringing when Roland is stricken and is thrown up into the air only to land on a craggy outcrop of rock, shielding the purple bug in his arms from harm with his body.

The Goblin King could have seriously hurt the bug which is also his constituent from the Dark Forest. “Damn it, Bog! Stop!” Marianne shouts when she sees him making a dive for the fallen fairy again.

Midflight, the Bog King wheels around to gaze at the flying Marianne. She looks okay, unhurt and really angry at him. It can only mean Roland has used the potion on her again and this time, it’s working…that means Marianne doesn’t love him anymore.

That truth sinks in, breaking his heart. The Bog King gasps at the searing pain in his chest.

Shoulders’ plates collapse in a defeated line, Bog turns around and then he sees the purple bug scampering away from the momentarily weakened Roland.

The Bog King reaches down and picks the struggling bug, his eyes downcast.

It is then that Roland stands up, shaking his head to push away the dizziness. And then he glances up, seeing Bog with his lady bug.

Picking up his sword from the ground, Roland then raises it. Its tip straight on forward towards the Bog King as he flies in attack.

Roland’s henchmen can only stand there in their surprise. Their eyes aren’t deceiving them—even Princess Marianne has failed to turn Roland from the dark side. Their brilliant plan is failing. Roland still loves the poor bug.

The Bog King, his head downcast, doesn’t see the danger coming his way. The tip of Roland’s sword will surely pierce his trunk’s side, an area with not much exoskeleton to protect it.

Princess Marianne frowns. Bog can take care of himself—so why doesn’t he…

“Bog!” Marianne cries out in warning.

—o0o—

She’s going to be too late. Bog isn’t even listening to her.

“Roland!” Marianne calls on desperately, “That bug doesn’t love you. I do.”

Roland screeches to a halt, turning to look at Marianne, a denial on his lips. His Purple Buggy Woggy does love him. How can it not, he’s the great, handsome Roland.

Marianne’s words also lift Bog’s head up, only to look at her quite accusingly.

And those unfortunate words do their trick, buying Marianne some time to come closer and swing her sword towards Roland.

Roland evades just in time and lifts his own sword on guard. Marianne swerves her sword going for another attack. She swings her weapon in an arc, from below then up in a slashing stroke, going for Roland’s blood. But Roland ducks and the sharp blade misses his head by a mere millimeter, but not his blond hair.

Locks of sunlit strands drop down to his shoulder, and Roland’s eyes grow huge as his gaze falls on them. “My hair, my beautiful hair!” he screams.

As the blond wisps float to the ground, Roland raises his sword to look at his reflection in a panic. The sword’s flat blade is small for him to see the whole top of his head but then again it is sufficient for the bald spot that appears as his fingers thread through his awesome hair is huge.

“NOOOOO!” Roland shrieks loudly, kneeling on the ground, picking up his hair trying to re-attach them back on his bald head and crying big tears when he can’t.

Marianne snorts loudly. She can’t believe she almost married the nincompoop. Gazing over the image of Roland, bend over, wailing, she catches the Bog King’s gape, she winks at him and smiles.

The Bog King trips over in the air, seeing that playful wink and mischievous smile Marianne has just directed at him—him. Letting go of the purple bug so it can fly by itself, the king of goblins tries to decide whether to smile back or growl.

While the Bog King decides, the three moth boys look at each other. And then at Roland—at poor Roland, sobbing his heart out.

Disquieted, after all, Roland has never looked happier in the past weeks with his lady bug and now because of them…The three musketeers then decide that if there is ever a time that Roland needs his bug that time is now.

Zef, Pyr and Dei go after the purple bug. The bug squeaks and flies fast, evading the three pairs of arms trying to grasp it.

But armed only with tiny see-through wings and with a huge belly, it doesn’t take long for the three moth boys to catch the bug.

Struggling, the purple bug screams its disgust which only sounds like another squeak.

Dei kneels on one knee in front of Roland and reaches for the bug from his two companions, offering the purple squishy body to Roland for comfort.

Roland turns his head away, snubbing the offered bug, as he continues to cry.

The bug squeaks excitedly. And the moth boys look at each other, their sigh of relief hidden behind the, “There, there. It will grow back,” words they do mouthed while Roland continues to wail in earnest.

—o0o—

The Bog King decides to smile at Marianne—a toothy, sheepish smile.

His tough girl definitely has her reasons for saying she loves Roland—twice. And then smiling and winking at him that way, as if she’s sharing a joke with him.

He’s gonna trust her…He trust her. With his life. With his feelings. She won’t go trampling all over it. No, not his Marianne.

The Bog King, his confidence soaring, comes flying closer to Marianne. Grabbing the fairy around her tiny waist and pulling her in a tight embrace.

“I was afraid ye were eaten by a pretty bird,” he mutters into her ear.

Marianne closes her eyes as she rest and rubs her head on Bog’s chest, wrapping her arms around his tinier waist. How did she get so lucky?! She smirks to herself.

“Marianne?” asks a gruff voice.

“I’m fine, Bog. Actually, I’m not—” Marianne’s lips quirk in a smile, unseen by the man-goblin whose arms suddenly tense around her, “—because I’m better than fine.” She finishes with a giggle, ”You know why?”

The Bog King shakes his head, as his apprehension leaves his body.

Marianne feels Bog shaking his head and his relief. “Because I’m sure that I’m the luckiest fairy for I have you.”

“You’ll always have me, Marianne.”

Marianne raises her head from Bog’s chest to look him in the eye and to squint sharply. “So what’s that defeated face a while ago?”

Bog’s hands let go of Marianne so he can twiddle his claws. “Erm…”

Marianne puts her hands over Bog’s much larger ones, halting their fidgeting. “I don’t love Roland. I don’t even like him. His friends ask me to help him though—which reminds me—they got my flower-sprites’ help, leaving me without warning during training. When I get my hands on those tiny, flowery, little bodies—omph!”

The Bog King’s head swoops down and plants his mouth on hers in a yearning kiss. “I love you,” he grumbles over the red, soft lips.

Marianne leans into the kiss, closing her brown eyes.

And when the kiss ends, Marianne opens her eyes revealing the impish glint in them. Taking a step away from Bog then another then another, she then stops after a few meters away from him. She inhales a deep breath before she brackets her hands on the corners of her mouth to amplify the sound as she shouts at the top of her voice, “YOU’RE THE ONE I TRULY LOVE, BOG KING!!!”

Flying back towards Bog with arms stretch, both palms out, fingers spread apart, Marianne laughs, “I said that with no fingers crossed.”

“Shhh I believe you,” the Bog King shushes, embarrassed, his eyes avoiding those of the goblins and fairies present. He expects such gregarious attitude from Dawn but not—not Marianne. “I believe you.”

“Good,” utters Marianne sharply. “Because if you don’t—I’m going to have to fight you and defeat you and spank your butt until you believe me.”

—o0o—

The King of Fairies approaches, with arms wide open and Princess Marianne meets him halfway.

With his daughter safe and enfolded in his arms, the king mumbles in her ear, the surprise of a new discovery in his voice, “Oh Marianne, you were right. Roland loves his hair more than you.”

Marianne kisses her father’s cheek as she moves out of his embrace. Finally, the Fairy King sees what Roland truly is…

The Bog King follows after Marianne and stands near her, hovering. His fingers twitch and twitch…

“Whereas this creature—” King Dagda starts, gesturing at the Goblin King, then falters when he sees Marianne about to snarl at him.

The Bog King, unable to deny himself anymore, pulls Marianne to his side, standing straight with her and stating his claim.

“Whereas this crea—“ the Fairy King halts once again as he hears the simultaneous growl and grunt coming from the two. “Whereas your boyfriend,” he rephrases after clearing his throat, “had turned the forest upside down looking for you. He really loves you, Marianne.”

“I already know that, dad,” says Marianne simply. “But sometimes, I have a feeling that he finds it hard to believe that I love him too. I really have to do something drastic so he can believe me.”

“I already told you, I believe you,” grumbles Bog.

Nodding his head, the Fairy King finally, truly understands what Marianne is saying, what’s in her heart. Removing one of his rings that adorned his fingers today, he gives it to his eldest daughter.

Marianne takes the ring from her father. It’s a wide gold band with a purple stone flanked around by smaller yellow ones that are almost similar to the one in Bog’s staff. It is a manly ring, fit for a king.

Grabbing Bog King’s left hand, she slips the beautiful ring on over his forth claw to the base of his finger. “I would ask you to marry me but you’ll probably come up with a lot of reasons not to so I’m just gonna tell you to marry me,” she says with a radiant smile.

Bog starts to talk but Marianne puts two of her fingers over his lips.

The Bog King, this time though removes the fingers on his lips. “I’ll be doing the asking, tough girl.”

Tea Blend

—o0o—

~12 9 15 AF P 12 24 15~ Sugarpiehoneybog, this was supposed to be about the ‘mischievous happy boys’ like you wanted (err the moth/ happy boys—they’re Roland’s henchmen, right?… ) but this just grew and grew to this…hope you still like it though.

#Strange Magic #Strange Magic Secret Santa #StrangeMagicSecretSanta #mean-princess #GRAAAHHHHH #I must admit though #nothing really makes me incredibly happy in this fandom #than seeing my moth boys getting some attention #cries #I should give more time for them OTL

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