#fic: eclipsed(Stingue)

[dragongodryss]

Various Sting and Rogue winter designs.

Individual outfits with better quality and ramblings below the cut.

Ceremonial outfits vaguely inspired by my dislike of their outfits from the GMG afterparty (mostly Rogue's. It's technically alright but I don't like it). Obviously they wouldn't wear these there but yeah. Not sure where they would wear these. Probably to something in winter. I had a version without Rogue's coat and Sting's cape, but I merged the layers and didn't notice until like an hour later. I didn't want to undo an hour of progress so I cut my losses.

Basically Rogue has a moon-phase corset (idk why) (but the way the jacket and corset overlap still shows the idea so yay) and Sting is wearing a sleeveless shirt with high gloves. (I know it's supposed to be winter but the cape is warm and fluffy, trust me)

I decided to give them basically the same color palette minus the blues and reds. Their cape/coat are their own color (black and white) and the outfit underneath is primarily a muted version of their accent color (red/blue) and each other's main color. Gave them dull gold accents because their early designs had a lot of gold. I kept the colors more muted because winter, but I also used the brighter colors I used for their eyes in some parts to break up the outfits a bit.

Sting's cape design and color placement was pretty intuitive, I knew what I wanted to do with it. I mixed his fur collar with dragon/angel wings and gave him a sun motif. Everything else is pretty similar to what he usually wears except for the fact that I minimized the white. I added some chains to his earrings because I thought that made them look regal and I stand by that opinion.

Rogue's was a bit more difficult. The main outfit was fairly easy in terms of general clothing elements, but I struggled with color placement. But I like how it turned out, so it's fine. As for the coat, the only thing I knew I wanted was the transparent sleeves. The jacket part went through several changes. I considered giving him a recolored version of Future Rogue's cape/jacket/thing, because that was cool, and Rogue doesn't know what Future Rogue was wearing so he has no reason not to. I also considered merging the jacket with his skirt thing from his earlier designs, but I didn't want to cover the corset thing and couldn't make it look right, so I left that out. I struggled to pick the colors for that too, but it worked out. I gave him the low ponytail from the GMG afterparty because that's the only part of the design I really liked. I braided his bangs but left some hair falling out of it because I wanted to. Not sure it's visible but yeah.

Here I gave them more comfortable outfits. They're a bit stressed because I wanted to vary the poses. I guess they've got a lot to do, so they didn't bother dressing up.

Sting forgot to put his shoes on. He's not really dressed for winter but he's busy so he's not going outside anytime soon. He just grabbed whichever clothes were closest and rolled with it. Sting did not dry or style his hair. No one noticed because they're also stressed. His shirt says 'Shut the FUCK up and lemme SLEEP'.

Rogue does not care enough to change out of his crocs. You can pry his crocs from his cold dead hands. (which will be soon if the weather keeps up) He put a bit more effort into his clothes than Sting. Or maybe he was just cold. Who knows? His hair is up because he didn't have the time to brush it today.

They did not intentionally coordinate outfits. Rogue might have picked the same colors subconsciously while half asleep. They own several outfits in matching colors, but they weren't aware that this was one of them.

Also I drew Rogue's irises way too big so now he looks like a wet cat. Sting is slightly more jacked than intended so now Rogue looks small. So all in all he's not having a good time.

Finally the date outfits. They both brought flowers. Rogue's is a white carnation and Sting's are red and purple tulips. Sting will eat the flower. Rogue knows this. He would have brought more if they weren't going to eat on their date. Rogue does not have a history of eating flowers, so he gets a bouquet.

Rogue's outfit is more fancy and Sting's is more casual, but not by too much. Rogue's hair is a mess because it was windy, but Sting used hair gel so he's fine. They're a bit awkward but happy to be here.

[dreamingoffairys]

smoking hot take: rogue being the one to defeat future rogue instead of natsu, because if future rogue killed rogue he would die too so basically rogue would win any way, but still has to confront those inner demons

[gaymirajane]

Eclipsed Chapter 13

Idk what this chapter is, but it's been so long and I needed to post something so... here it is. Let me know if you think I'm pacing it too fast, or the characterisation is off? I was worried about both whilst writing this. Also, the pace will slow down a lot after this, with the next two or three chapters being continuations of one another, along the course of the same week. No more ungodly time jumps, I promise...

Thank you for your constant patience and support for this fic, I promise I won't give up on it until it is finished, but I honestly have no idea when I will update again. I had the rest of it planned out chapter by chapter, but due to the strange way this one turned out, everything else has been thrown off and I don't really know what to do now. This fic might end up being longer than I imagined, or maybe even a little bit short. I always wanted to stop at around 20 chapters, but we'll see.

Thanks again!!

Maybe This Time, Two Wrongs Make it Right

“He's a stubborn one... it's kind of cute.” The woman identified as Black-widow grinned, fisting Sting's hair and letting her tongue dart out to lick underneath his ear. He shivered at the intrusion, but could not pull away due to the restrains of the snake. “Maybe I'll be the one to take him first.” She hummed.

The only one who had not spoke yet – a man just slightly shorter than Adder – grabbed her wrist and pulled her away.

“Not now, Widow-nee. We have to wait for the order from Master first.” His mask was white, with a red St. Andrew's cross stretching from the top of his eyebrow to the tip of his bottom lip, encompassing the left side of his face. His voice was deep, menacingly so, but his presence was soothing. If his sister was like a graze – stinging and upleasant – then he was the cool balm applied to ease the ache. Sting wasn't sure if he should trust this feeling or not, instead assessing what he knew about the group.

Adder was the leader, and most likely the strongest. He uses shadow magic, but isn't the type to command his friends. Probably weaker in hand-to-hand combat, and relies on his team to finish what he starts.

Bandit is his closest ally, and their magic complements each other. Can use binding snakes and possibly some other form of magic, likely to be something serpent related. Should not be underestimated.

Black-widow does not seem to have any special skills or weapons that make her especially dangerous, unless being insane could be counted. Judging by the manic way she moved, Sting thought it might have to. Her magic is unknown, and her status among the group is unclear. His guard should be up around her at all times, as she is volatile and unpredictable.

Her brother is the most calm and seemingly the least threatening. His name is unknown, as his is status among the group and his magic type. Although he appears placid, the lack of information makes him the most dangerous.

Sting takes a deep, shuddering breath through his nose before he meets their gaze again, each one individually. They all stared back, clearly waiting for what he would do next. If only Sting had though that far. Pushing himself up with his knee, Sting wobbles to his feet, the snake fighting to keeping him down. He needed to free himself from the binds before he can do anything more, but that would involve challenging Bandit one-on-one. If he tried that the other three would intervene, and he would not be able to take on all of them without his magic. First, he needed to divide them.

With a deep growl in his throat, Sting rushes forward and tackles Black-widow. She hisses, her nails digging into his back, no doubt drawing blood. Her hand fumbles in her pocket, producing a round pouch filled with liquid the same colours as her mask. The other three move in unison, and as Bandit draws near Sting swipes his leg out. Bandit barely dodges, his step faltering as he crashes into the large industrial waste bin.

That small gap in concentration is all Sting needs. He tears his arms out with the complete force of a dragon, and the binding snake explodes into a mess of red shards. The one around his mouth is still in tact, and Sting claws at it until it's writhing in his palms. He throws the snake, still in one complete piece, at Adder, and it circles his wrist gladly.

“Holy dragon's roar!” A simple attack that would not deplete much of his magic. It would allow him to assess the abilities of Black-widow and her brother, and give his body time to recover physically from their previous attacks. They all wince against the onslaught of light, Adder's cape is torn and Black-widow's neck stained with blood.

“Bandit!” Adder roared, and immediately the snake drops, slithering across the ground and up Bandit's leg. The four form a circle around Sting, eyeing him up with more of a fearsome glint to their eyes. For a minute, Sting was almost glad that he could not see their full features; it was clear that it was a small step from contempt to murderous rage among this group, and he knew with certainty that he had crossed that threshold.

“Here, Widow-nee.” The nameless brother passes his sister a small capsule, that she takes and gladly swallows. The blood from her neck starts to trickle upwards, towards the wound Sting had caused, and his mask makes sense to Sting. A red cross. He was a healer! Or at least, healing was one of the magics that he possessed. Remembering the fight he had witnessed between the god slayer from Lamia Scale and the dragon slayer from Fairy Tail at the Grand Magic Games, Sting knew better than to underestimate healers.

“Thank you, brother Hunter.” The small ball is still in her hands, and she hurls it at Sting. There's an explosion of pink and blue smoke, and Sting blinks in confusion.

It takes a moment before the pain hits him.

The pink smoke is like fire across his skin, and the blue smoke seeps into the wounds, making them crackle and hiss in the same way salt would. Sting screams in agony, his flesh bubbling in grotesque red welts. He falls to his knees, vomit rising his throat as the smell of his flesh reaches him.

“The pink extracts your sins, and the blue purifies. You must have been particularly bad for it have such an affect, you naughty boy.” She laughs, and Sting lurches forward in a blind rage, reason lost on him in the throes of pain.

The shadows seem to merge with the blanks in his vision, and suddenly Sting is engulfed in them. No matter how much light he produces, they never fully dissipate the shadows, and Sting feels like he is drowning in them, losing his will and his consciousness. He bites his lip hard, tasting the metallic of his own blood. It grounds him, reminds him that he is alive and has to keep on fighting.

He doesn't have a chance.

“Shadow dragon's unholy chasm!”

The shadows that surround Sting now were different; warm and comforting, they protected as much as they offended, holding back the enemy and keeping Sting safe. It was obvious who they belonged to, and Sting felt relief and confusion in equal measures. Although he was glad of Rogue's intervention, he could not comprehend how Rogue had found him, how Rogue was always able to find him.

Once the fog of shadows had cleared slightly, Sting could see Adder and Bandit were unconscious, Black-widow pressed against the wall and Hunter grappling at the shadows around his throat that held him in place. Rogue was at the centre of the chaos, his forehead bleeding, mouth open and panting heavily.

“Sting...” His scarlet eyes, so ferocious when directed at the enemy, were filled with affection for him. Sting leant into Rogue and sighed in content, his wounds almost forgotten as the intense euphoria of winning a fight flooded his system. Rogue helped him to the end of the alley, jaw clenched and eyes still blazing with fury. A car was waiting, engine still humming. Sting eyed Rogue warily before jumping the passenger seat.

“Sting-sama!” Yukino's brown eyes were wide, her face pale. Sting reeled in shock.

“Yukino? What the hell are you doing here?” He asks incredulously.

“It's a long story... Rogue-sama was given the car from Rufus-sama to complete a job in the next city, and he wanted us to accompany him. We were coming to look for you when Rogue-sama caught the trail of your scent, and we found you here.”

“Right...” Sting trails off as he catches a glimpse of Rogue from the window. He's staring into the alley, nostrils flared and eyes villainous. He was so quiet, people often forgot how powerful Rogue could become, especially with the right incentive. Sting imagined that his life being in danger was just that.

The door to the driver side slams, and Rogue's grip on the wheel is almost criminal. He hanks the car into gear and slams his feet onto the pedals, jolting everyone forward. Sting puts his seat-belt on.

“Rogue...”

"Talk to me, Sting." Rogue growled. Sting recoiled from the noise, not used to seeing his friend this passionately furious outside of battle.

"W-what?"

"Talk to me, distract me, do anything to prevent me from going back there and ripping those bastards to pieces!" Rogue slammed his hand down on the steering wheel, nostrils flaring and eyes shining a dangerous shade of red.

Yukino rested her hand gently on Rogue's forearm, and Sting watched the medicinal touch of the calming woman take affect on Rogue. He slumped in the seat, still breathing hard but brow far less furrowed.

"We didn't even get a glimpse of their faces." Sting reasoned quietly.

"Never underestimate the nose of a dragon."

Yukino laughed, but Rogue remained rigid. Sting saw it then, as clearly as the sun rose in the morning sky; the difference between Rogue and Yukino's love. How he was blind to it before, Sting did not know. But it was obvious to him now, and everything else- the men, his friends, this vehicle- fell away as he contemplated the two most important people in his life.

Rogue loved completely and ardently, without consideration of his own well-being. He would die for Sting, and he would kill for him. His life was pure, bred through years of friendship and passion which burnt so hot, Sting was still afraid to touch it.

On the other hand, Yukino's love was innocent. She would not die for Sting, but she was prepared to live for him, and had willingly given up so much in her life just to stay by his side. She was caring and nurturing to the extent where Sting almost considered her to be motherly, and he had to much to be grateful for that she had provided for him. He did not think he would ever truly repay her.

However, that did not change the fact that her love was incomplete. They both shared a secret, one which they had only spoken aloud once in their whole relationship. That secret was the reason why Sting's words bubbled in his throat and toppled out, and he allowed them to do so with ease.

"You really do love me, don't you Rogue?" Sting didn't mean to phrase it as a question, but still Rogue answered.

"Of course I do." He glanced to Sting from the corner of his eye, not as flustered or bashful as Sting had expected him to be, in fact Rogue was nothing except honest. It was Sting who found himself flushed and embarrassed.

“Rogue-sama, could you maybe drop me off at the edge of this street?” Yukino's voice seems to startle Rogue, and Sting realises that Rogue had forgotten her presence in the backseat.

“Yukino, I didn't mean-”

“It's okay, Rogue-sama. I understand.” She smiles sweetly, because she is Yukino and Sting knows she she would never respond in any other way. He feels guilty all of a sudden, as though he has betrayed her trust. Although that was ridiculous; she understands their arrangement as well as he does.

The car rolls to a halt. A thick, tense air settles between the three, and Sting can't work out why, but it makes him feel queasy.

“I'll call Fairy Tail and them to send Wendy-chan to your apartment, Rogue-sama. Make sure that Sting-sama is there for the rest of today. I'll also contact the army and make sure that the group of criminals are taken away.” With one final smile at Rogue and a deft kiss pressed to Sting's forehead, Yukino pushes open the car door and hops out gracefully

The door hasn't even clicked shut before Rogue groans, doubling forward and resting his head on the steering wheel, black hair covering the majority of his pale features. “I completely forgot that you two were dating. I'm so sorry, Sting.”

Sting laughs, earning a concerned look from Rogue. “I asked the question, didn't I? You did nothing wrong, Rogue. Thank you for answering so honestly.” Sting reaches over and rests his hand tentatively on the tense curve of Rogue's knee. Rogue looks shocked and averts his gaze, but says nothing to encourage or reprimand Sting.

Rogue's apartment was only three streets away now, and the streets seemed to get busier the closer they got. For someone to shy, it had never made sense for Rogue to live in the middle of the town.

They park the car and walk up the few steps that lead to Rogue's home. He unlocks the door and they go inside, not a syllable passing between them. Sting had visited Rogue almost every day for years, and was startled by the sudden realisation that the apprehension he was feeling was nothing more than nerves. Their relationship was shifting, and Sting wasn't sure what to or what it meant. But it was definitely different, there was no denying it. He had never felt nervous around Rogue before, not without reason.

“Do you need to bathe your wounds?” Rogue's voice cut through Sting's thoughts, and he jumps at the unintentionally intrusion.

“No! Yes! They... they do need to be washed. Sorry for the bother.” Sting looked to the left and to the right, anywhere but at Rogue's half-amused smirk.

Rogue opens the door to the kitchen, leaving Sting in the hallway.

“I'll get the hot water.”

“Yes!”

“You can move into the living room, if you want.”

“Yes!”

Mentally, Sting was reeling. He was acting no better than a school child around their first love! That fact alone was enough to send his heart into a dizzying frenzy. He kicked off his shoes and made his way into the main living area, where he sits straight, tense, waiting for Rogue to return.

It doesn't take long for Rogue to enter with a basin full of water, some medicinal remedies, a flannel and a towel. Sting feels a strange sense of dejavu to the night Rogue had found him in the bar, but he does not say anything. That was not an especially good night for either of them

“Sting, your shirt...” Rogue places the items on the table, and Sting nods stiffly.

“Right.” He pulls his shirt over his head, but the movement causes pain to shoot down his back, which is prolonged when his hair snags in his earring, and the garment becomes trapped.

“May I?”

Before Sting can respond in the affirmative or negative, Rogue's long, pale fingers, are already working the knot from Sting's hair, and it isn't long before his shirt finds itself on the floor. The cool air of Rogue's apartment against his bare chest causes his muscles to quiver and nipples to harden, and Sting prays to every god and goddess in the sky that Rogue does not notice. He does, of course, and his cheeks flush drastically, eyes gazing adamantly at the basin of water and nothing else. Rogue wets the cloth and wrings the excess from it. It's only when he starts to rub the warmth over Sting's skin that Sting realises something.

“Rogue, since when can you drive? Actually, since when can either of us stand to be in any kind of vehicle?” It was so obvious – blindingly so, in fact – that Sting feels like an idiot for not noticing sooner.

“Rufus started to give me lessons just after I came out of the hospital, and I took my test last month. He remembered that we suffer from motion sickness, so he had a magical barrier sealed around the car which invoked the spell of Troia for the people inside. That's why he lets me take his car on longer jobs, because that way we won't have to take the train.”

Last month... his best friend had been driving for over a month, and he didn't know a thing about it. Sting wasn't sure what that said about him, but he didn't think it was anything good.

“What made you want to learn?” Sting's voice hitched as Rogue ran the cloth over a particularly sore welt on his forearm. Rogue's look is apologetic, and he applies some ointment onto that patch directly before wringing out the cloth once again.

“Well, you suffer more with the motion sickness than I do, and I thought that if I knew how to drive it would make taking jobs easier for us, especially since Rufus guaranteed that we would not get travel sick.” Rogue's tone is bashful, a strand of hair twisting onto his forehead. When he reaches out to rub at Sting's shoulder, Sting grabs his wrist in protest. Rogue glances up, obviously worried that his reason was overstepping a line, but Sting's gaze is soft, and Rogue's body visibly relaxes.

Sting's hand moves to cradle Rogue's cheek, the other tucking the unruly strand of hair back behind his ear. His finger swipes affectionately over the scar on Rogue's nose, and Sting can't ignore the delicate way his heart hammers when Rogue's lips part and his eyes flutter shut.

“You do so much for me, Rogue. I don't think I'll ever deserve you.”

There's no hesitation in Sting's actions. He leans his face down and presses a small, deft kiss onto Rogue's forehead, so softly that he questions whether he even did it at all. But he knows that he did when Rogue's eyes fly open, wide and uncertain, brow tensed and mouth agape.

“Sting...” It's a question, and a prayer, and an exclamation of love. When Rogue whispers Sting's name, it's everything Sting hoped a lover would be; warm and adoring, tinged slightly with dormant desire. Sting shifts from the seat and onto the floor next to Rogue, both on their knees.

“I promised you that I would think about your feelings and give you a proper answer, and I think I'm ready for that now.”

Rogue nods, eyes closing again. His throat bobs, jaw clenches, whole body prepared to take the brute force of Sting's rejection. So when Sting clasps his hands around Rogue's and presses their foreheads together, the shocked gasp that tears itself from Rogue's parted lips is almost surreal.

“The truth is: I don't love you the way that you love me. But, Rogue, I think that I possibly could. Intimacy, it scares me, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to get better. I want to try, Rogue. I want to be there for you in the same way you are for me.”

“Sting... what are you saying? Please, don't talk in riddles. Tell me honestly what you want and where we stand.” Rogue's voice was tight, pained, like he didn't want to expect too much just to be disappointed.

“I'm not saying that we should date, just that we should spend some time together in more obviously non-friendly ways. I want to go on dates with you, Rogue. I want to hold your hand and spend time in your house like I used to. I just... I want to be with you, like we used to be, but different. Not dating... but not friends.” A frown lined Sting's forehead as he realises the incoherency of his words. Nonetheless, the smile that blooms from Rogue's features is breathtaking, and Sting pulls him into an embrace without thinking. The hot flush of Rogue's breath against his bare neck is pleasant, and Sting smiles into Rogue's loose ponytail.

“Shit!” Rogue jerks away, face contorting into a feature of pure horror.

Immediately, Sting panics. “What's wrong?”

“What about Yukino?”

Sting scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, a toothy grin threatening his lips. “She... kinda loves someone else.”

Rogue blinks once, twice, thrice, before a venemous glare takes a hold of him, and he pushes Sting against the settee. “You're telling me that you've been dating for months, knowing full well that it was never going to last between you?”

“Well, she thought that she was too insecure to be in a relationship, and I wanted to see if I could overcome my issues with intimacy, so it was really more of a mutually beneficial partnership than a real relationship, although I do love her very much.”

Huffing, Rogue folds his arms and sticks out his bottom lip. Sting laughs airily. “I don't really understand why you're mad about this, honestly.”

He sighs, rubbing a small circle into his temple. “I'm just frustrated. I've been avoiding you because I didn't especially want to spend time with you and your girlfriend, and it turns out you were never serious about her in the first place.”

Sting bumps their shoulders together, placing his arm loosely around Rogue's shoulder, who shyly reaches up to link their hands together. Sting squeezes happily, the grin he had tried so hard to suppress finally taking over.

“I just have to help Yukino get the person of her dreams now, that's all. Still, it worked out okay in the end.”

Rogue looks from their interlocked fingers, to Sting's naked chest, to his toothy, carefree smile.

“Yeah... it did.”