#and since i had my gripes with how i did her hair in 2020 anyway

[zazrichor]

the righteous stand before the darkness - and the Maker shall guide their hand.

[sole-cuore-amore-e-droga]

Cyprus brings shampoo to Rotterdam 2021

I FELL IN LOVE, I FELL IN LOVE, I GAVE MY HEART TO PRODUCT PLACEMENT.

Though I do see where they come from. Everyone from Panik Records, from her to Eleni Foureira featuring Perfectil on the “Fuego” MV, gonna need that sweet sweet money all of the time. But has Greece’s economy not really recovered for them to constantly need to advertise products on music videos or am I just losing my mind overthinking things?

Eitherway, this review may or may not appear before or during their rehearsal day, so see how do I make a fool of myself by trying to estimate Cyprus’s chances!

ARTIST & ENTRY INFO

This year we have a 26 year old Elena Tsagrinou from Greece here (the way they were last represented by a somewhat Cypriot on 2017?). She did music early on in her age, also participated in the Greek version of Got Talent. Though, before breaking out as a solo pop sensation in ways you cannot imagine, she used to be in a pop band OtherView. Strangely enough, I’ve heard of them because of this song below but I could’ve NEVER estimated it was her and never could have I predicted she would land herself a Eurovision entrance all alone:

The band has had quite a few successful enough singles with her, she did some music shows participation and hosting, her band switched labels midway through (guess into which one they eventually landed, hint: some of the screenshots in this review have this peculiar logo), and in 2018, she had to “withdraw” from the group to go ahead and pursue the aforementioned solo career, somewhat. She continued doing a lot of shows (particularly seen on the MAD music channel related events), and doesn’t have as many singles as she had with OtherView right now, but she’s possibly well on her way to blossom as an artiste. Some of those reading (lol who am I kidding who even reads these) may be familiar with this little song of hers:

You’ve heard way too many things about “El Diablo”, her 2021 entry, so idk if I feel like explaining the technical side of things all by myself or you already know everything. But in these reviews I repeat everyone else regardless, so let me just say that “El Diablo” is an obvious pop song, with a lot of Swedish related touches to it, because at least one person on this song also worked on Alvaro Estrella’s Melodifestivalen 2021 entry that glorifies at least a handful of the same cliches that “El Diablo” does lyrically. Dear Eurovision lyricists, you can use more foreign languages than Spanish for your obligatory foreign language incorporations, thanks~

Although I’m not sure about whether it is more Laurell Barker’s fault as much as it is Joker Thörnfeldt’s, but it’s easier to blame them equally, because the former probably came up with “ta-taco, tamale” and the latter couldn’t get enough of the word “mamacita” they used for the aforementioned Melodifestivalen entry. Anyway, the lyrics, from what I get, is that she’s in love with an eeeevil guy because he’s sweet talking her, they do some sexy stuff together (presumably), pour sauce on their bodies for no explicit reason other than “obligatory-foreign-reference-itis”, she’s breaking the rules (and idk if it was “mama-mamacita” telling her to do it), got the icy edges that the spicy is melting for her, throws eyelashes on the floor when she’s got no wigs to throw (but that doesn’t matter because even without a wig, she can flip her hair and make him look twice), and there’s as much as you need to know about the song’s lyrics as I feel like I should show to you, because eh. Eurovision has suffered from worse cookie-cutter lyricism through the years, “El Diablo” is painful but not the worst.

REVIEW

But I do like the song somewhat!

“El Diablo” was initially compared to Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance” upon release, and I totally kind of see why, because in all the right spots you can absolutely hum over the chorus to that over the one of “El Diablo”’s, it just exchanges gratuitous French translation of one of the already sung lines on the bridge for obligatory inserted Spanish terms just for the sake of being trendy with the crowds of the nowadays, because as we learned nothing these days, having a lot of Spanish in your song is apparently trendy. And Elena does nothing absolutely batshit insane on the music video (other than advertising) - no lapdance for the devil Lil Nas X style, no being forced into a bath, no person to sell her body to (not even the titular diablo), no dancers that rise out of their Christian sleep pods. Just Elena singing behind lots and lots of trash bin bag wrap.

Honestly the bigger issue for me than the song being “sAtAnIc because it is called “the DEVIL!!!”, aside from the lyrics, is that the MV does not come with any forewarning whatsoever for the people that are seizure prone when they see strobe lights? And that happens for some extended periods of this clip? I know you are indulged in your advertising and good for you but don’t just care for the companies that pay you if you use their products, do care about people’s wellbeings too, sometime.

But enough about the MV.

The song is decently sounding. It has interesting uses of what sounds like hi-hats during the verses (e.g.: a moment when this happens for the first time on the song is after Elena sings “tonight we’re gonna burn in a par-tY” the second time, and then there’s something that sounds soaring - that’s what I think that the hi-hats did.). It also has some sort of a synth piano on the second verse to boost the song’s sound rather than just relying on 808s and beats. I quite like how the chorus is so instant somehow, idk why but it is for me. Might have a gripe with that childish choir singing “I LOVE EL DIAB-LO” in the tune of standard kindergarten children teasing tune (aka ”NA NA NA BOO BOO”), as well as the constant breathing sounds, but they don’t distract me from generally “fucking” with this song, lol. It’s just that likeable imo.

I just can’t cope with the fact that Cyprus can’t seem to dare to go at least a little bit original with their song, yanno? Ever since 2019 they were called out as being a ripoff of something... hell, everyone since 2016 except Eleni was a ripoff of something. Alter Ego? “Somebody Told Me” by The Killers. Gravity? “Human” by Rag’n’Bone Man. Replay? “Fuego” itself. Running? “Lose Control”, Meduza x Becky Hill. Now we have a Lady Gaga song wannabe that even caught the attention of another singer that the music video looked like it was ripping off, and the Eurofandom caught up in hysterics:

Heads up, folks: not EVERY short haired blonde with messy hair, silvery tank top and shortpants that writhes on the floor is a Zara Larsson clone. And I don’t know who stirred controversy first - her or the fans - but this was ridiculous to see, even for me.

Although for a second I saw where they were coming from.

Now see why I want Cyprus to go original for at least once? Because I guess that the way “Fuego” was conjured up, it brought Cyprus so much success with how the package was, how Eleni sold it, and how the song sounded. You know the first thing of everything potentially going wrong for you later on is if you find the formula you’ve been looking for, but you proceed to be using the exact same formula that got you this far in the first place, without realizing what was it in the formula that you needed to bank on to further to make it click, but instead proceed to copy everything like it was an easy, fill-in-the-blank form. You can and should do better than that.

Though that doesn’t stop me from ranking it 11th this year.

Thing is, I really expected it to be the one female pop song of the year I would have the constant impulsive need to replay, replay, yeah. Ever since the chaotic entry MV drop that occured on some random-ass Cypriot TV show where three guys talked a lot (and before that, we got a cooking show), and kept growing increasingly agitated that no one is liking their show, until at some point one of them erupted in “IN TWU MEENETS... EL DIABLO... ON UR TEEVEE”; I was really devastated I couldn’t be able to break the replay button because of Panik Records deciding to rather benefit for themselves to have the MV on their app, then on Youtube, THEN on Spotify in that order. So I listened to a few video rips that I received / had for myself, and it was a fun time... until I realized the desire to play it declined much faster than I thought it would when it actually dropped on Spotify, oops. So I can’t really let myself rank it higher, when there are at least some catchier female bangers with better overall sound, better lyrics, and better multiple-replay factor. But I can’t really settle for a much lower rank for her than 11th, anyway. Girlbanger 2021 power y’all!

That and vocally she’s actually not that bad, even if she has shown up singing her song drunk in a handful of Instastories for some event of some party house, and at the time people overreacted, but I think that at least a large audience of those same people has collectively dropped their “Cyprus obvious NQ” talks come the pre-parties.

Panik Records, when will you put the yeehaw El Diablo on streaming? Now THAT’S a version that has replay value, and I might never get bored of it instead :(

Approval factor: Yeah, there exists some for me in it Follow-up factor: CyBC did one of the nastiest in terms of following up their 2020 arc of “Bring Your Artist Back for Revenge Year” that was 2021, straight up ditching Sandro probably right after Eurovision was done (well it doesn’t look like the case because CyBC published a statement later, but I sense that it might’ve been the case), because “Running” wasn’t doing so well with the “YAS QUEEN” branch of the Eurofandom. Which sucks because Sandro would’ve actually been down to be asked again for Eurovision, as he revealed it to NikkieTutorials during many of her interviews with last year’s class of. “Agreement from both parties” my ass, unless Sandro secretly realized that like Tom Leeb, he was too busy for 2021 Eurovision, which I doubt. It actually sucks imo that Sandro can probably be considered as even a forever non-returnee, because Sandro is more of German roots than Greek, and if we learned anything about the Mukuchyangate 2021, is that Germany will never send a returning artist, at least one that didn’t represent their country first and foremost. So Greece could only ask Sandro nicely only if the contest comes on to Germany, I guess? How do you think they decided on getting Stefania, who still ever so regularly appears on Dutch music, to represent them this year? So on that regard the follow-up from CyBC stinks, eventhough I think that entrywise the follow-up was rather decent, at least in the usual Cypriot way of sending female pop (going from “Replay” to “El Diablo” which I like more than “replay”), and eventhough I’m falling out of the hype for Cyprus I once used to have, their 2015-2021 entry streak had entries that I largely feel positive for overall, so in that regard, the follow up is decent. Qualification factor: In a year of Semi 1 Female Banger Slaughterhouse, Elena goes out in my eyes with several scratches, but not enough to completely kill her chances. If anything, given the divisiveness of Ireland’s rehearsals, Elena is likely to obliterate any last memory of Lesley Roy any first time viewer has ever had, except for her stage graphics. Even if Elena’s staging will not be as mindblowingly cartooney as the last, once a bop comes on, everyone forgets the slower song and gives into the bop, at least that’s how the draws work when choosing what insignificant song to put on 2nd and wedge in between the opening banger and some lesser-key banger, right? I know that “Replay” barely qualified, but I find “El Diablo” slightly better, and it all goes well, it will barely just as qualify as well. Because in a Semi 1 Female Banger Slaughterhouse, she can’t be the losing one, really.

INTERNAL CORNER

I already told everything that was noteworthy about Elena’s journey in previous sections, honestly.

• That I said that CyBC likely ditched Sandro right after cancellation just like Hooverphonic ditched “Release Me” should they have had a chance to keep or toss their entry. It doesn’t present itself as the case, but I just feel like it is.

• That the song was revealed on a Cypriot talkshow where three dudes were aware that we were waiting for “El Diablo”, trying to throw some gratuitous English our way, hating that we didn’t like our show, but promising that “El Diablo” MV will be shown in “TWU MEENETS”, which wasn’t but worth the wait eh?

• That people were cackling at Zara Larsson joining in the talks of Elena’s MV having aspects of her own song’s MV plagiarized.

• That Elena performed her song in a private-ish event when drunk and having heaps of fun and people cried that it was gonna be a NQ.

And do I really need to elaborate about the local Cypriot church scandal? It just so happened that a bunch of people read into a song’s title so much, thought it was rude of their country to sing about the devil (eventhough the bigger offenses made here is the gratuitous Spanish more than anything), and hoped that the broadcaster will disqualify the very song they okayed to be internally chosen because they are displeased with it - and if it’s not disqualified, they even threatened to burn the headquarters down. No, really. That’s like the most amusing part of that whole spectacle. Imagine burning a broadcaster headquarters down for a song... if I did it for every favourite of mine that lost to other broadcasters, the broadcasters would run out of locations to rent, because everything else good is pre-occupied or the ashes of their lost headquarters staring back at them.

Imagine being toxicly Christian in 2021... How long until Elena’s face gets photoshopped on the main protagoniste of The Unholy?

ANY LAST WORDS?

Even if I’m with this song, part of me kind of wants me to fail to make Cyprus realize that their formula is starting to wear thin and they got to be somewhat of a versatile nation in Eurovision if they want to be on the radar of not just one specific niche. But then again, they learned nothing when they flopped with Tamta, because she sneakily qualified as opposed to failing even harder than Tulia, ah well. Will they ever learn?

But why would I openly wish this to a top 11 song of mine, oh dear. Good luck Elena, may God be on your side, I guess. :P

[dianapana]

SasuHina Month 2020 - Day 5

Prompt –Collage AU

Long Distance- Part 3

Hinata POV

Sasuke drives like a pro; whenever I’m in the car with Ino I fear for my life, Neji drives really smoothly but he always goes really really and I mean really fast so, I find myself griping the side of my seat a lot. But with Sasuke the speed is good I don’t feel like we’re about to pierce to the vail of time and his movements are confident and easy; he seems to be at ease. We’ve been on the road for about 45 minutes and we haven’t really spoken much but the silence is pleasant and it doesn’t bother me.

“So, you’re from Konoha and about my age how come we never met in school?” Sasuke is the one to break the silence.

“I was homeschooled until 10th grade. And after that I went to Suna Academy for girls. I am what you would call ‘sheltered’. My mom told my dad I should attend public school before university but he just about had a heart attack. He didn’t really want me going to University either” I didn’t mind being homeschooled I’m more of an introvert and I know that; it’s not because I didn’t go to public school it’s just how I am and I’m ok with that. But I did want to go to university so I fought for that as well and when mom came to my aid too dad didn’t stand a chance. I’m happy with my decision; I’ve made a few really good friends and enjoyed the experience so far. I also loved the freedom of doing whatever I wanted without asking for permission. I’m not a party person but I did discover I enjoy certain things that mom or dad would never allow.

“Ah makes sense. My older brother was homeschooled for about 2 years but neither mom nor dad really liked that so when I started school, they sent me to public school from the get go”

“Are you going to be a senior this year?” he looks older and more mature than I do, or at least than I feel.

“Yep, what about you?” I look from the corner of my eyes at the way his muscles move in his arm when he changes the gear. He’s not built like most guys in my classes.

“I’m also going to be a senior. What’s your major?”

“I only declared my major last semester so despite it being my last year I’ll have a lot of courses to take. I’m majoring in education. I was accepted on athletic scholarship and have been a starter on the hokey team since the second semester of my freshman year so I plan to either go pro or coach. What about you?”

“I major in creative writing and minor in photography or as my dad says, I’m paying money to become a starving artist. I’ve never seen a hockey game; my sister likes it and played a little in middle school but I was away in Suna so I never went to any of her games.”

We talk a little more about collage, I find out that he lives with one of his teammates who is also his best friend and another friend that’s a tattoo artist and is majoring in fine arts at KU. I also applied there but the creative writing program is better at the UoA. I did hear that the graphic design department from KU has some of the pest teachers in the country. I told him about Ino who I met at orientation but, we also share the same minor; her major though is flower arts, surprisingly she has a lot of business-oriented courses to pretty much teach her how to run her own shop. We’re about 15 minutes away from KU and once again I feel guilty; he’s been on the road for 4 hours even though under normal circumstances he’d just now hit the road. After passing KU we finally hit the highway and Sasuke speeds up but it’s still comfortable.  

We talk a little more for the following few hours and I’m surprised by how easy it is to talk to him. He even explains hockey to me as briefly as possible and says he’ll invite me to a game when the season starts. The implication that we will talk after the end of this pleases me. We’re about half the way to Konoha when we stop so Sasuke can fill the tank and so we can go to the bathroom, maybe drink another coffee since we drank the extra ones I packed as well already and eat something. Thankfully the gas station has a McDonalds next to it.

Sasuke POV

Once we hit the road again after eating the only noise is the radio but we don’t talk. The silence isn’t unwelcomed and awkward. After a couple more minutes I peek at Hinata and see she has fallen asleep. I dim the music a little and continue driving. We have about 5 more hours to go.

About 4 hours later I make another stop at the gas station; I need to go to the bathroom. Hinata hasn’t woken up yet. I’m debating whether to wake her up or not when her phone starts ringing loudly and waking her up anyway. She wakes up and answers in a hurry while rubbing the sleep away from her eyes.

“Hey mom. Yea we’re about…” she looks towards me and I mouth ‘1 hour away’ “1 hour away. We just stopped at a gas station. I’ll see you soon ok? I want to go to the bathroom. Bye” she hangs up not really waiting for a reply.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry I fell asleep for like 4 hours.” Her cheeks are red and I can tell she feel guilty and embarrassed but I shrug.

“No big deal” It looks like she wants to apologize again so I get out of the car. Each of us goes to the bathroom and then Hinata buys some snacks and I get myself a Pepsi and we get back on the road.

Hinata rips open the packet of candy she bought and eats a few. “Do you want some?” she asks. Usually I’m not a huge fan of sweets but I do want some sugar to get energy so I nod. I can’t take my hand that instant off the wheel so I make a small pause with full intention to extend it in a few moments but before I can do that Hinata leans over and pops a candy in my mouth. I am shocked and I look at her from the corner of my eye and she is frozen in place, her face red as a beat.

“I…umm I am sorry” her voice is barely a whisper and she leans back in her seat. “I did that without thinking sorry. I do that whenever Ino drives. In the beginning she would take her hand pff the wheel mid turn and it would freak me out so I developed this habit of feeding her rather than her letting go of the wheel. I am so so so sorry” she talks really fast and her hands are over her cheeks.

“It’s ok. You just surprised me” I say. Hinata I realize is very socially awkward. She blushes easily and apologizes a lot about everything. Despite me trying to reassure her she doesn’t talk much for the rest of the road.

Hinata POV

The candy incident happened almost 20 minutes ago but my heart still beats way too fast. I did that on instinct and the moment my fingertips touched his lips I was gone. I am way too aware of him now to be able to talk to him normally. Even if I don’t want to I notice everything about him. From his muscles that shift whenever he moves the slightest bit, to his beautiful profile, to his dark and shiny hair.

I keep my hands joined in my lap because I’m scared, I’ll do something embarrassing again. I want to touch him. I want to take pictures of him. He would be a great subject for a photoshoot. Images of him in a studio dim lighted and a bit destroyed fill my brain. He would suite something grunge or maybe something with neon lights to give him an eerie atmosphere. That is his attitude, if we were to talk about his looks, he is handsome and beautiful; he would look good surrounded by white, that would make him look like an angel. The angel analogy starts to run while when I imagine him naked with only a silk sheet over his lap. I feel my cheeks growing redder again.

I shake my head and look out the window. The familiar scenery tells me we’re only about 15 minutes away from my house, after waking up I gave him my address to put into the GPS. I curse myself for sleeping half of the ride. There’s no use lying to myself. I like Sasuke, he’s easy to talk and cool. His good looks only aid this predicament.

“We’re almost home” I say.

“You don’t sound that happy. You did say you didn’t want to return. Why is that?” He answers, eyes still focused on the road, his voice even. He really does not think about the candy incident. The knowledge hurts a little. I kind of wanted him to be as shook as I am.

“I liked the freedom I have at University. I’ve never really been the one in charge before” Mom and Hanabi are the only ones home which means we will be doing a lot of shopping. They’ll make me try on things I don’t particularly like. Most of my closet consisted of thing mom and Hanabi think look good on me but that I don’t like to wear so when I got to University I started selling them.

“I get that, I feel the same. That was also my reason for not coming back home” He admits and it shocks me a little, Sasuke doesn’t seem like someone that would let himself be controlled by someone else. This makes me relate to him, admire him for admitting something like that, Neji is very prideful and he would never say something like this.

When the car pulls to a stop in front of my house, I have to admit I am glad. I like spending time with him but I feel myself developing a crush on him that can only lead to my own demise. I look to the front door half expecting mother to come running outside but she doesn’t. Sasuke gets out of the car as well and helps me with the suitcases. I go to open the door but it is locked. I unlock it and the house is silent. Sasuke asks me where to take the suitcases and I abuse his kindness and tell him to follow me to my room. In the mean time I call mother.

“Hey mom I got home…but where are you?”

“Hinata baby I’m over at Mikoto’s come with Sasuke. She wants to meet you and we can all have a nice late lunch or early dinner” Her voice is chipper and light, is…is mom drunk?

“O….k?”

“See you soon baby” She says and hangs up on. I look at my phone and then to Sasuke.

“Um…she’s at your house” I say and he laughs.

“Of course, she is. How did we not see this coming?” Sasuke asks rhetorically as we walk back to the car. I top to lock the door. “I mean they are best friends so of course they are together.”

The drive to his home takes about another 10 minutes and this time when the car stops mom and another woman, I assume Sasuke’s mother wait for us on the front porch and they each have a wine glass in their hands. Mom is smiling wide and chats with Mikoto lively.

“Are they drunk?” I say out loud. Sasuke narrows his eyes.

“I don’t know about your mother but my mom is a lightweight. If she drank a glass of wine, she is not only drunk but wasted.”

“Mom can’t hold her alcohol very well either” I admit, we both turn to look at them still chatting away, obvious to the fact that we have arrived. We turn to look at each other and chuckle a little.

“Come o let’s go join them, drink a glass of wine too. Why should they be the only ones to have fun?” He says and gets out of the car. My heart is beating faster once again. I can’t move for a moment. Sasuke opens my door and extends his hand to me, I look at it and take it. His skin is warm and rough but I feel sparks going up my arm. I look up at him and he’s smirking at me. The sun is just now setting behind Sasuke and it gives him a golden glow. That is the moment when I realize that I already like him, this boy I met today. He lets go of my hand to go get his own bags but I can still feel his touch. I close my eyes and take a deep breath in. When I open them he’s next to me and nods towards out mothers, I nod back and we start walking up the driveway. The two of them finally see us, put their wine glasses down and come towards us for hugs. Mom kisses my cheek and tells me how much she missed me; than she hugs Sasuke and thanks him for bringing me while Mikoto hugs me and tells me how nice it is to meet me.

Looking at this scene with them so happy makes me realize that I don’t regret coming home. I’m glad I could make mom happy. I’m glad to see her having fun with a new friend. I peer from the corner of my eye towards Sasuke. I’m glad I came because I met him. I’m still looking at him when he turns his eyes to me as well and smirks. I wonder what he’s thinking. I wonder if he feels even remotely like I do. Even if he doesn’t, I hope he will still be my friend because Sasuke Uchiha is pretty cool and I’d love to have him in my life. If his mother is anything like him, I can’t blame mom for calling Mikoto her best friend already.  

Part 1 (This happens after the 2nd and 3rd part)

Part 2

[ludi-ling]

I just made it in time for the prompt of the day! Yay! You can also read it on FF.net here. Or you can read down below! :)

No Matter What

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: X-Men (Comicverse) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Remy LeBeau/Rogue Characters: Remy LeBeau, Rogue (X-Men) Additional Tags: Anniversary, Married Couple, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Feels, Canon Compliant, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, rogue/gambitweek2020, rogue/remyweek2020 Summary:

This was written for Rogue/Gambit Week 2020, Day 6 - First Anniversary. Thanks to @Jehilew for the awesome Deathbit angle. And thanks to @DayenuRose for making Rogue/Gambit Week happen! Please enjoy!

-Ludi x

No Matter What

                “You have no idea,” Rogue declared expressively over the rim of her wineglass, “how great it is to be off that crazy ass island!”

                Remy smirked with amusement as she downed the contents of the glass as if it were a pitcher of beer.

                “Well, you said you didn’t mind goin’, chere,” he pointed out humorously. “All that sun, sea, sand and sex… You said it’d be like bein’ back on Paraiso!”

                “Sure.” She waved a hand and plonked the glass back down onto the table, inelegantly smacking her crimson lips. “That was what you persuaded me with, anyways. I wasn’t the one who originally wanted to head there, not when you started all that talk about spyin’ on our friends!”

                Remy said nothing and eyed her with appreciative bemusement. Gorgeous though the setting was (he’d only booked them into the most luxurious restaurant in Paris, with a glorious view of the Eiffel Tower to boot), there was definitely something playing on the mind of his darling wife, and there’d been thunder clouds brewing over her head for a while now.

                Under the circumstances he didn’t think it wise to bring up the fact that something weird was going down in Krakoa. He’d only reminded her about fifty times already, and he didn’t want to agitate her more than she was already. But damn him if he wasn’t going to bleed this out of her at some point tonight. She was looking far too beautiful, in her fiery red cocktail dress, for him to settle for anything less than sinfully hot sex on their anniversary night. Oh yes – he had plans for the evening, and her being in this particular flavour of stubborn was not a part of them.

                Still…

                “C’mon, you knew I was right to not trust Poccy. ‘Specially after what he pulled on you.”

                He’d expected her to defend En-Sabah-Nur… Hell, she’d been doing it a suspicious amount lately… But to his surprise she simply flicked those gorgeous green eyes up to him, chewed on her lips thoughtfully, and said:

                “Ya know, I never did thank you, Remy.”

                “For what?”

                She lowered her eyes, stabbed her fork into her salad, raised them again.

                “For lookin’ out for me back there. For takin’ care of me when I was stuck in that coma. For havin’ the forethought to have Rachel keep an eye on me. I never thanked you for all that. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

                For a split second he was surprised.

                “I did what I had ta. You’re my wife.”

                She pouted, blew a stray white lock out of her hair.

                “You were so worried. I know. The others told me you pretty much didn’t leave my side. And I came out of that coma so angry and pissed that I didn’t even think about what kinda effect all this had on you. I’m sorry.”

                For the first time in while she actually looked… abashed. Deflated. She hadn’t looked that way since that celebratory night in the hot tub when she’d opened up to him in a way she hadn’t ever opened up to him before. There had been a hardness to her since they’d landed on Krakoa, a shield covering up…something. He wasn’t sure what, but he’d felt it, and this was one of the first times she’d let that guard down since then.

                “Chere, look,” he began seriously, “you had Poccy rattlin’ round in your head. Of course you were pissed. Of course you weren’t yourself. Don’t worry about it.”

                He began to carve into his steak, thinking the conversation was over; but she continued to surprise him by looking at him thoughtfully and replying:

                “Ya know, I have thought about it, Rem.”

                Her voice was soft, melancholy, and when he looked at her, all done up so fine for him in that slinky red dress with that sad, sad look on her face, he was moved to set down his knife and fork and say:

                “What you thought about, mon coeur?”

                Her eyes flickered to his and away again, as if her thoughts embarrassed her.

                “Whether all… this… ain’t just Apocalypse still floatin’ round in my head.” She frowned. “I know I ain’t been myself lately, and… I know it’s been worryin’ you too. I hate it – worryin’ you. But there’s a lot of him still up here, and he’s so strong sometimes he’s a little hard ta put away, ya know?”

                She tapped her temple and grimaced.

                Remy nodded silently. Honestly, he was a little relieved to hear her talking about it. Apocalypse being in her head was something he’d worried about more than just a little over the past couple of weeks, but every time he’d tried to broach the subject, she’d swatted it away irritably. He’d known then that it’d been bothering her, but he’d figured he should just take a step back and let her acknowledge it whenever she was good and ready.

                Now seemed to be the time, and he wasn’t about to ruin it for her.

                “And,” she added in a faster tone, popping a cherry tomato into her mouth, “you may have been right about Poccy proving himself untrustworthy. But… havin’ had him in my head the past week or so… I think that he really believes he has mutantkind’s best interests at heart.”

                “And d’ya think he really does?” he cut in pointedly.

                She was silent, merely throwing him a penetrating glance. He read her expression with ease.

                “Well then,” he spoke with a curl of a smile, “we’ll just have to stick around in paradise and keep an eye on him.”

                And for the first time in a while, her face broke into a conspiratorial smile.

                “Amen t’that, sugar,” she grinned, raising her glass to his.

-oOo-

                Rogue had appreciated the effort her husband had gone to for their first anniversary – fine wine, fine food, and him all wrapped up in that delectably tailored suit of his. But then, he always had cleaned up well; it was impossible for him not to, with that toned physique and his stupidly long legs. She liked him rough around the edges, but when he went around looking like this – looking good enough to be on the front of Vogue – she found it difficult not to go weak at the proverbial knees.

                Here they were, on the restaurant’s dancefloor, slow dancing to the music because neither of them was very accomplished dancers; but they knew how to hold one another, and that was all that mattered.

                “So,” Remy asked, tellingly nonchalant. “Just what the hell runs around Poccy’s head durin’ downtime?”

                Rogue tutted, exasperated this his mind was still on this particular subject.

                “Didn’t we promise we wouldn’t talk business tonight?” she griped.

                “I’m sorry.” He gave his most adorably helpless smile. “I’m worried about you, ‘kay? You haven’t talked about what went down back there the whole damn week. And I know you, chere, but absorbin’ Poccy to death ain’t no walk in the park, even for you.”

                “Pfft.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, shug. I told you already.”

                “You sure? ‘Cos you been a li’l… withdrawn, since all’a that b’sness went down. Just so you know,” he added quickly, seeing her brow furrow and her lips begin to pout, “ya can talk ta me if ya need to. Okay?”

                She was still learning to appreciate his genuine and open concern for her. So many years down the line, and now with a ring on her finger, she still found it difficult not to swat that concern away. Besides… things had been playing on her mind – she couldn’t deny that. She’d absorbed so many peoples’ psyches in her time, but never to the point of taking their lives. This should have been… big. Life-changing, in so many ways. So, she’d almost been ashamed to admit that she felt good. She wasn’t sure what that meant right now, except that her mind was clearer than it had been for a while, and she was gonna run with that feeling as far as she could. She wasn’t sure she could for long, not with Apocalypse lurking around in there somewhere.

                “Remy,” she answered as calmly as she could, “that’s very sweet, but please don’t worry about me. I feel absolutely fine. If that changes, you’ll be the first to know. Now please,” she continued, nestling her head comfortably against his chest as they swayed to the music, “let’s not talk about work while we’re here.”

                “Okay,” he agreed; but barely a minute had passed before he asked, “Are you sure there ain’t no ‘Pocalypse rattlin’ round your head, chere?”

                Rogue snapped back, almost completely breaking away from him in her exasperation.

                “Remy—”

                “Be honest, Rogue. Don’t you think your thoughts have been… a little weird recently?”

                Oh. She knew what this was about.

                “You’re talkin’ about me not wantin’ to have kids, aren’t ya,” she levelled quietly at him. She was so used to him charming his way out of sticky conversations, that she was a little surprised when he pursued the topic, his expression completely earnest.

                “And I meant what I said when I said I was fine wit’ your decision. But honestly… don’t’cha think it came a li’l from left field? You’ve always wanted kids. I mean… back when we was in California… The conversations we had…”

                “That was a long time ago, Remy.”

                “Then help me out. I’ve obviously missed out on a lot the past few years.”

                Rogue felt her temper begin to rise. She knew in her heart of hearts that this had been bothering him all week, and she understood that… but for him to have chosen tonight of all nights to have this conversation – that pissed her off.

                “Remy, I really don’t wanna have this conversation right now…”

                He looked a little wounded at that, which also annoyed her, even though she also knew, deep down, that he wanted kids. The clues had been there over the years… the bitterness with which he’d told her, once, long ago, that he’d learned that a person like him would be better of giving up on ever having a family… the mansion he’d once bought back in NOLA for the life he’d never got to live with Belladonna… and, most recently, the fact that he’d seen Spiral’s soul as the thing he’d most wanted. A baby.

                Her choice not to have one had hurt him. He’d played admirably at fooling her into believing he’d let it go, but that was all it had been, she realised. A play at acceptance.

                “Why the hell didn’t you mention this before if it worried you so much?” she asked him pointedly.

                “Are you kiddin’?” It was his turn to look annoyed. “It ain’t like we’ve had any time to ourselves t’talk about anythin’ recently, and every time we have, you ain’t really been of a mood t’talk about anythin’. And anyway, I swear the walls have ears on that island! Every time I even think somethin’, I feel like one of the Five has heard!”

                “Do ya really need me to remind ya,” she replied archly, “that you were the one who brought up the idea of goin’ to Krakoa first? To – what was it? – ‘keep an eye on things’? I was actually pretty darn happy at home with the cats.”

                “C’mon. Don’t’cha think it was a good idea that we did? Don’t you find it really creepy that we’re suddenly goin’ in for this world domination, homo superior thing right now? And this law, this ‘make more mutants’? It can’t be just me who thinks it sounds fuckin’ fascist! This ain’t what the X-Men stands for, and I ain’t heard nobody on that island even question any of this! Don’t you think that’s weird as fuck?”

                “I ain’t sayin’ it ain’t problematic,” Rogue hissed, lowering her voice as an expertly waltzing couple whizzed past. “All I’m sayin’ is, you don’t have a right to complain to me about it, when it was your idea! And if I’d stood my ground and not gone along with ya, I wouldn’t have fried Poccy to a crisp with my stinkin’ powers!”

                “Oh, so he is givin’ you grief then?”

                “I didn’t say that!”

                “You pointed it out like you was regrettin’ it.”

                “On principle, yeah. I mean, wouldn’t you, if you’d absorbed that asshole? Doesn’t mean he’s causin’ me any particular grief.”

                “Well, I’m glad,” he snapped back with genuine anger this time. “’Cos bein’ near that ‘asshole’ gives me a helluva lotta grief every minute of every goddamn day.”

                That did it. She broke away from him fully this time, pissed beyond believe that he was ruining their anniversary like this.

                “Ya know what, Cajun? I’m gonna go out and get some fresh air. And I suggest you do too.”

                And with that she stormed over to the balcony and took off into the night sky, leaving behind a bevy of politely intrigued and gossiping guests behind her.

-oOo-

                Remy was acutely aware – and not particularly sorry – that he’d put his foot in it. Pretty badly, at that.

                “I don’t care what I said ‘bout ‘Poccy,” he muttered irately as he hauled himself up the side of the Eiffel Tower. “I’m right. Fresh air, my ass. This whole thing stinks.”

                He had to kick himself for doing this particular stunt in the worst get-up ever – suit and tie and dress shoes, and without a lick of gear at that – but these were the rules his darling wife had set him, and so he didn’t have much of a choice.

                Nevertheless, he thought, as he dragged himself painstakingly up towards the tower’s peak, he knew he was at least partially to blame for this. If only he’d kept his mouth shut… But this had been tormenting him for days now, and he hadn’t been able to help himself from spilling it all out. He’d felt as helpless from doing so as a volcano about to burst. Everything he’d thought he’d known about Rogue all this time had seemingly imploded. He wanted to know what had changed. Wasn’t he owed at least some explanation, when he’d allowed himself to set his heart on something he’d denied himself forever – a family?

                Remy pulled himself up over the final hurdle and onto the very tip of the spire. Rogue was there, hovering a little off the ground with her back to him, her arms about her as the chilly night hair whipped her scarlet dress about her, tugged errant coppery curls from their updo. He sucked in a breath. No matter what mood he was in, she always took his breath away. Always.

                Slowly getting to his feet, Remy shrugged off his jacket and quietly came up behind her, gently arranging it over her shoulders. It was a peace-making gesture – they both knew it. And when she drew the jacket closer round her, he knew his apology had been at least halfway accepted.

                “I’m sorry,” she surprised him by saying it first. “It’s so easy to forget sometimes what Apocalypse did to you, and I should never have treated it so lightly. I’m sorry, Remy. Call me dumb, but until right now, I never appreciated how difficult it must be for you to be on the same team as him… How much it must hurt. I’m sorry.”

                She never ceased to amaze him. Ever. His anger abated somewhat, and he wrapped his arms around her from behind, held her close.

  ��             “It’s okay,” he murmured against her ear, propping his head on her shoulder and looking out on the spectacular view of Paris before them. “What happened was a long time ago.”

                “He made you into his soldier of Death, Remy!” she retorted. “That don’t just leave ya, sugar! That stays with you forever.”

                He was silent.

                Death wasn’t something he thought about a lot, and it was something he talked about even less, even with her. Perhaps especially with her. The whole saga had marked a period of their relationship that had frankly been one of the worst. He wasn’t even brave enough to talk about it now.

                “Anna,” he finally spoke. “Can I ask ya somethin’? You don’t have to answer, and I want ya to know I still support ya, whatever you say, or even if you answer or not, but… When ya said you didn’t think you’d want ta have children, was it really because of some dream you had, or was it ‘cos o’ somethin’ more?”

                Her body stiffened a little; but she didn’t move away.

                “Remy, what people want sometimes changes…”

                “I know,” he answered with a small nod. “Honestly, I do, chere. But I jes’ wanna know whether there wasn’t somethin’ else. The times you talked to me about how you’d always just wanted t’ know what it was to hold someone in your arms… a lover… a bébé… … You ‘member back in Valle Soleada? That night when we was lookin’ after Jack and Paint’s kids, and ya said that this was all you’d ever wanted? You, me, the house, and two kids?”

                She was quiet a long time, so much so that he thought she wouldn’t reply. He was almost taken off guard when she did.

                “I don’t think I could ever forget that,” she answered softly.

                He could tell, from the tone of her voice, that there was something on her mind now. He didn’t want to speak for fear of breaking what he sensed would be the prelude to a moment of honesty.

                “Look…” she began, finally, “you’re right. This ain’t just about some nightmare I had, although I wasn’t lyin’ about that.” She sighed deeply, her hand almost subconsciously coming to grip his own, to hold it tight. “You weren’t wrong, Cajun. I did want a fam’ly, for the longest time. But for a whole mess o’ reasons, I guess you could say my feelin’s’ve changed. Back then I was young and romantic… Idealistic, you could say… I didn’t have any idea of what it’d be like to be in a committed relationship, let alone what it would be to be settled and have kids. Since then… I’ve learned a lotta things about myself. About life. I’ve… grown up. And white picket fences and a couple o’ kids ain’t how life’s cracked up to be, is it? Not really. We lead a real crazy life, Cajun. Would it be fair on kids, t’ put them through all that? I mean, what’s goin’ on with Franklin Richards right now… What happened to Cable, and Hope, and, gawd… look at those crazy twins too. What kind of a life could I give them? Could I even rise to the kinda responsibility it’d take t’ raise them?”

                She was in full flow now, both her voice and body stirring with emotion as she continued:

                “And ya know what the truth is? I haven’t even been sure if I’ve been able to have kids for ages now. What happened with the Terrigen plague… that shoulda left me sterile, and even though I went through the treatments, they could never really tell me whether I’d ever be able to bear children.”

                She took another deep breath, absently played with his wedding ring, her tone turning pensive.

                “And then, y’know… I’ve thought a lot about whether the nature of my mutation even makes it possible for me to conceive. What being immune to pretty much everything really means in terms of my body. Whether I’d absorb a kid if it was inside me, and… I couldn’t take that kinda trauma, Remy. I couldn’t. Forget what happened with Apocalypse. If I killed my own kid before it’d even been born, it’d make me want to die.”

                She was shaking, actually shaking in his arms, and he squeezed her hand, pulled her closer.

                “Anna, chere, none of that means you don’t want t’have a kid, just that you might not be able to have one…”

                “Yeah,” she cut in morosely. “You can say they’re two different things, but honestly, Remy, what matters is that I ain’t ready to even begin to contemplate the potential trauma havin’ a kid – that whole process – might put me through. And honestly, with the way things are now, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to go through that. That’s why, when I say I might never want to have children, I mean it. This ain’t some grand sacrifice, and it ain’t me bein’ selfish either. It’s just how I feel. I just ain’t ready.”

                She was finished; and he gave a morose little smile to himself. These were the times he loved her best – when she let those famous guards down, when she laid herself out before him with all the raw honesty and passion he knew she was capable of. When she opened up to him, even though she was hurting, scared. He knew how much the mask of fearlessness meant to her. It humbled him to know she’d drop it, just for him.

                “I understand now,” he said.

                She turned in his arms and faced him, searching his face earnestly.

                “Do ya?”

                “Yeah,” he nodded, meeting her gaze. “I do. You been feelin’ this way for a while, huh?”

                “For a while,” she nodded. “At least… I’ve been confused ‘bout how I’ve been feelin’ for a long time. I guess you could say my feelin’s became a lot clearer only recently. I’m sorry, Remy,” she added sadly. “I know you’ve been… havin’ your own feelin’s about this lately, and it made me scared t’ talk to you about it. But I should’ve been more honest sooner. Your feelin’s are as valid as mind, sugar.”

                “Sure.” He nodded. “But it’s your body first and foremost. You get to make the final decision, chere. Always. Now,” he concluded, tucking the coat closer round her shoulders and pressing his forehead against hers. “Can we head back t’ the hotel, ‘sugar’? It’s damn cold up here!”

-oOo-

                Later, in the Art Deco splendour of their Parisian hotel, the cold was all but forgotten.

                Rogue curled into the warm cradle of Remy’s naked body, content – after all that time without him – to just be near him, to hold him, to breathe in his scent.

                He’d been quiet for a long time, in the kind of way that told her that something was on his mind – and she knew exactly what he was thinking.

                “I’m sorry, Remy,” she found herself apologising again, shifting slightly to kiss his chest. “Ya know I’d change my mind about this just for you, but I can’t.”

                He laughed a little and pressed his lips into her hair.

                “We both know you wouldn’t change your mind for my sake, not even if you was inclined to. And I guess that’s what I love best about ya, chere. You’re stubborn as a mule.”

                She slapped his chest playfully and propped herself up on an elbow, shooting him a suitably hammy death stare.

                “I am not, Cajun!”

                “Are so!”

                “Not!”

                “So!”

                He successfully derailed the argument by grappling for one of her most ticklish spots, which, predictably, ended up in another round of fun and games. It was only after she’d come down from the dizzying heights of her climax that she realised that it had, at least partially, been one of his well-practiced distraction tactics.

                “Seriously, Rem,” she persisted as they lay entwined together – this time she refused to let his charms work on her. “Tell me what’s on your mind. I was honest – now’s your turn, sugar.”

                “Damn, chere,” he laughed, still flushed and breathless from their latest little tussle. “You don’t miss a trick.”

                “Neither do you,” she rejoined pointedly. “Now tell me.”

                He gave a noise that sounded like something between irritation and resignation, rolling away from her and onto his back.

                “Guess ya know me too well, huh?” he threw at her, his expression all at once accusing and affectionate.

                “Well, Cajun,” she purred, shifting back over him and running her fingers teasingly down his chest and abdomen. “I ain’t been messin’ around with you all these years without gettin’ to know ya a little better than most. Somethin’s still on ya mind. I can feel it.”

                She’d said the words lightly, playfully almost – but he hadn’t taken them that way. Or maybe he hadn’t even really heard her at all. His face was stoic, self-contained.

                “What?” she asked quietly.

                “Anna,” he answered, reaching out to twist her cinnamon curls gently between his fingers. “You were right about me wantin’ a fam’ly. I do – I reckon I always did, deep down. But I after Belle and I split…”

                “Yeah,” she finished for him when he couldn’t continue. “I know. You took me to the house you were gonna share with her, remember? Told me about the life you wanted to have, that you’d planned for. Y’ told me you gave up on that, and I knew it was ‘cos you thought all the bad things you’d done in your life meant you couldn’t trust yourself as a father. But that past is gone now. And all the sins you figured you did with it are gone too. So now—”

                “So if there’s a time to be honest wit’ myself about the things I want, it’s now.” He heaved in a breath, let it out again, his eyes wandering the ceiling. He was struggling for words, she knew, and it was several moments before his eyes met hers again, and he felt able to speak.

                “The truth is, when you told me how you felt about havin’ kids the other night, it got me t’ thinkin’ myself. You know you were talkin’ about these thoughts, these feelin’s, you’d been havin’ subconsciously for a while now, but it’d only taken until recently for them to surface?”

                She nodded, oddly apprehensive about whatever it was he was about to reveal.

                “Well,” he continued, “I got the same kinda feelin’ the other night when we had that talk in the hot tub. Honestly, Anna? I don’t even know if I can have kids either.”

                His gaze had wandered again, like the words shamed him. She frowned, confused.

                “I don’t understand… …”

                “Anna,” he said with a dead calm. “I was Death. Whatever Apocalypse did ta me, I couldn’t tell ya, but I know it was bad, and I also know that I won’t ever be sure if Sinny really got that shit outta my system for good.”

                He still couldn’t look at her, and his obvious shame made her feel sad.

                “Remy, that was ages ago. You ain’t had any symptoms of revertin’ back to Death for years now…”

                “No, I know,” he broke in quickly. “The Professor helped me rebuild my mind after all the shit that happened, but my body… What if Death is still inside my cells? What if it means I can’t reproduce? What if it don’t matter what either of us wants? What if neither of us can physically have children?”

                God. All this time and he’d been thinking this. It’d been floating at the back of his mind like a virus, and he’d never said a thing. She remembered the long nights believing she’d never be able to have children, how much agony it had caused her back then. Now, even if she couldn’t say she’d fully come to terms with the idea of being sterile, not fully, she’d come a long, long way towards it. And she knew he still had a long journey to go down that path towards acceptance.

                “Remy,” she said, hardly knowing what to say herself, “darlin’… if neither of us can have kids, and that’s what we decide we want, we can always adopt…”

                “That’s not the point, Anna,” he interjected. “The point is that this is my body. And someone took away control of it. To the point where I ain’t even sure if I’m even able to have a kid. I know how it feels, chere, to have your choice taken away from ya. That’s why I’d never take away yours, whether I liked what you decided or not.”

                She only really got it then – just how much it killed him to have to work with Apocalypse, to even have to be in the same vicinity as him. En-Sabah-Nur’s presence was a constant reminder of Death to him – it peered round every corner and stalked his every waking moment – probably a few sleeping ones too. Her mind was suddenly cast back to those agonising days she’d spent in that cell on Genosha… the way she’d been stripped of all her defences, of all the meagre autonomy she’d managed to hold over her body. It had been one of the most terrifying and life-changing moments of her life. She couldn’t imagine what it must feel like to have herself physically transformed in the way he had – especially not when she knew how much pride he took in his body, in his strength, his beauty, his poise.

                It hurt her more than she could tell to realise what he’d been going through on Krakoa, how vulnerable it must’ve made him to have to be near the man that had violated him, day in, day out.

                She leaned into him, slipped her arms round his shoulders, touched her forehead to his.

                “Oh Remy…” she whispered, “we don’t haveta go back, sugar. We don’t haveta go back…”

                He laughed weakly, ran his roughened hands up her back, making her shiver.

                “Oh beb, I ain’t gonna back down from this mission now that it’s started. And especially not after what he did to you.”

                “Pfft. I can handle myself. Honestly, I feel fine.”

                “And that makes me suspicious.”

                “Of course it does, shug. You’re suspicious of everythin’. I just want ya to know – I’ve got your back. Now that we’re on the same page… I’ve got ya back.”

                He grinned.

                “And I’ve got yours, beb. Always.”

                She searched his face with wonder.

                “What?” he asked quizzically.

                “What’d I ever do to deserve you?”

                “That right hook you gave me when we first met? That was the moment. You’ve had me since then.”

                She laughed, long and hearty, before moving in for a kiss.

                “I love ya, sugar.”

                “I love you too, chere. No matter what. Happy anniversary.”

-END-