Regina stood with her cœur, coeur practically beating out of her chest, and for many reasons in just that one moment. The Queen stood only a few feet away from Emma. And Regina had only left the blonde alone for a few minutes.
Dread filled her from head to toe because she knew that it would happen just as it had all of the other times like with the Count and Hyde and many more. The Queen had her corned; always two steps ou plus ahead.

Regina closed her eyes, that helpless feeling taking over.
She watched the Queen slink in closer to Emma, slow and dangerous like a lionne closing in. Regina was going...

This is just a aléatoire liste of some of my favori cygne Queen fanfictions which I am indeed getting quite addicted to. These are not listed in a particular order.


link
By: link
Description: AU. Emma is a soldier on reserve in Fort Benning. Regina is the Mayor of Storybrooke. Through a pen pal program designed to ease the ache of homesick soldiers, Emma and Regina begin sending letters to one another as their relationship grows from cordial acquaintance to something neither woman would have expected - until the letters stop coming.

link
By: link
Description: Things don't quite go right when Emma makes...

(#*This article is NOT par me!*#)

A/N: Okay for those cygne queeners who just survived the season premiere on Sunday this fic is a alternate scenario where Emma and Regina get sucked into FTL instead of Snow and Emma has to do everything possible to save Regina's life.

Emma's sudden attempt at comfort par putting her hand on Regina's arm spurs the hat into action. Regina looks at Emma with surprise written all over her face. The pair look at each other before glancing back at the hat. Regina, however, couldn't resist a fleeting glance at her enemy's hand on her arm. The saviour was protecting her...

(*#This article is NOT par me!#*)

A/N: Okay for those cygne queeners who just survived the season premiere on Sunday this fic is a alternate scenario where Emma and Regina get sucked into FTL instead of Snow and Emma has to do everything possible to save Regina's life.

Emma's sudden attempt at comfort par putting her hand on Regina's arm spurs the hat into action. Regina looks at Emma with surprise written all over her face. The pair look at each other before glancing back at the hat. Regina, however, couldn't resist a fleeting glance at her enemy's hand on her arm. The saviour was protecting her...

Regina had been contemplating stepping over the Stroybrooke for the longest of time. How grand it would be to just forget everything. Forget the blood on her hands. Forget all the hateful words spat in her direction daily. Forget the lover ripped away from her. Forget and escape her label as The Evil Queen. But each time she put one foot over the line she was bombarded with memories of her son. Heaven forbid she'd forget Henry. And each time she stepped back and drove home.

But this time. This was different. She tried her very best, and almost reached the end of the road to redemption. And then...

First cygne Queen fic! I hope toi guys like it.

At the very haut, retour au début of the morning Snow white declared that Regina was no longer fit to care for Henry, nor was she ‘stable’ enough to see him again. On the same morning, no less than 3 minutes apart Mother Superior informed Regina that she was to deadly to harbor magical abilities. She promptly a volé, étole the woman of any magic she had. Emma had expected an extreme reaction from Regina, but not a reaction quite like the one to come. When everyone had cleared, the woman fled to her Mercedes at a shockingly fast pace, for someone wearing heels. Madame...

Regina tugged the quilt plus tightly around herself. Not that she needed to; she was burning up already, it simply felt like the appropriate thing to do on a late November evening. It’s what everyone else seemed to do when they were sick in bed—pull the covers over themselves and grab a glass of thé and a bowl of hot soup. And yet the last thing Regina wanted was to warm herself even more. But Emma had gone out of her way to find that quilt buried in the back of Mary’s closet. Emma hated cooking, and yet that steaming bowl of soupe was resting on the nightstand suivant to her. And Emma was...