This is a Sting x Rogue story, it contains some M stuff so yeah.
Thank you WolfieANNE, thank you jamielmx (my beta and my beet).
Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail.
Disclaimer: I do not own the cover art, I was given permission by the amazing artist lolDercaptain on DeviantART.
Chapter 0 《Prologue》
My hands are soaked in blood. My eardrums are throbbing and my vision is blurry. What's happening? What's going on? My small voice doesn't dare make a sound.
"You need to be strong," Skiadrum says. He shows neither pity nor remorse. Tears slip from my eyes. I'm scared.
I approach Skiadrum and raise my blade, positioning it at his neck. "Please say stop," I whisper, my hands can barely keep the blade from shaking. I'll be stronger, I promise. Please don't do this. Please don't make me do this.
"End it," he says.
I bring the blade down but it stops at the bone. I cry because I don't want to do this. I'm too weak to do this. Then come the shadows, the blood, the pain. Before I know it everything goes dark. I hear an agonized shriek. Was it me? My throat feels raw. Shadows eat up the field, licking every flower, biting every tree, then they make their way to me. They're cruel. They're grinning with malice. Malice that makes my hairs stand on end. Malice that makes me tremble from head to toe. I don't like them, but I know I can't stop them. They look at me and I know I'm the main course. I don't remember fainting but when I awaken I'm staring into the eyes of my father. The eyes attached to his severed head. Did I kill him? The blood from my katana drips to the floor. Did I? I killed him. I had killed Skiadrum. I - I had killed him.
I was yelling when I woke up. I had settled my trembling hands against the damp sheets; the sheets were drenched from my sweat. I was no stranger to nightmares and they were no stranger to me. They were constant reminders of all that was wrong with the world, and all that was wrong with me. I had no one to blame, I had nowhere to run, and I was too powerless to do anything but accept them.
The full impact of the cold hits me and I shiver. My blankets are on the floor. I don't have the energy to pick them up. Rather, I sit there watching as the condensation of my breath drifts in to the air. I feel a wet drop land on my thigh and I realize that I'm crying. I hate myself for it. I glance at Fro, and do a double-take, the cat was awake. His eyes are flooded with concern that leaves me speechless. What can I say to him that I haven't said before?
"Fro is worried, is Rogue okay?" Fro asks, placing a small paw on my arm. The familiar routine comforts me enough to cease the tears.
"Sorry, Fro, I've just been training too hard, it's taken its toll on me," I say. Fro is unconvinced. I reach a hand out to stroke his warm fur. "Go back to bed."
He nuzzles my hand sweetly before plopping onto my pillow. It's hard not to smile at his simple innocence. I look at the hand he nuzzled and the brief feelings of warmth depart instantly. I was ruthless, heartless and filthy in comparison to Fro. I've done things. Homicide. Patricide. Attempted suicide. I will do things; Future Lucy and countless others nearly died at my hand. Every inch of me is tainted; I'm the embodiment of impurities. Purely impure. I don't want to be forgiven, or more accurately, I don't deserve forgiveness. The guilt that weighs me down every day is the reason I can't die. I can't stop suffering, I can't take the easy way out; I don't deserve it.
My eyes follow the dance of a flickering candle, captivating and cruel. I close my eyes and blow and when I open them it's gone. I am a shadow; a shadow chasing light. I love the chase, because it's all I can ever have. I know I can never catch up, I will never catch up. If I do the light will be gone, and I can't let that happen. I'll never let that happen.
A thousand times I have prayed to the stars in the sky, prayed that I may be the shadow to his light. A thousand times I have tossed coins into wishing wells; wishing that the life within him would never be extinguished. My katana glimmers in the moonlight, calling for me and my skin craves its touch. A thousand times I have bled for him, and a thousand times I would bleed again in the hopes that the blood would wash away my impurities, and I may be clean enough to touch him.
"Please," I whisper, and the familiar pain returns to me once more.
~A5h3r's Note~
I can't promise consistent updates, or a constant word count. I can barely even promise quality. I was recently hit with inspiration from who knows where and the urge to write has returned to me. I deleted my first fan fiction, and could no longer bear doing that to another, especially one that had so much potential. So rather than letting the potential go to waste, I'm trying to shift it in the right direction. I gave Rogue a more toned down amount of self pity and hero worship, that balances with the other aspects of his personality. Furthermore, I'm attempting to develop Rogue into a more wholesome character, while maintaining the canon parts of his character (e.g. his apathetic responses, his determination, his focus). This is set roughly after the GMG but it's still pre-Tartarus, and here is where it diverges from canon material. While the focus is on Sting, Rogue, Frosch and Lector, I also want to input more Minerva, Rufus and Orga. Especially Minerva and a new set of dynamics concerning her relationship with Rogue (I hate how Hiro Mashima made her fall for the nakama crap, it really didn't suit her whatsoever).