* Archive

After years of writing Regina, going on Hiatus, and then coming back, I realised that I had lost the edge to write a character this angry anymore. I have not watched the series in many years and have admittedly forgotten all her quirks which makes my portrayal a bit unrealistic.

Regina will live on with other writers and in the source material, but I am happy to shut down this blog with its companion @fragilevanity.

When  the  room  is  emptied   &  silence  descends,  Regina  is  left  with  only  the  burning  desire  to  gentle  @luckhissoul.  But,  she  must  resist.  Distract  herself.  Her  thoughts  flitter  to  unsavoury  avenues,  where  the  body  trembles   &  writhes,   &  the  mind  is  blissfully  absent.  Any  threat  that  may  befall  her  charge  now  would  not  come  from  the  outside,  but  rather  from  his  own  actions.   &  if  Regina  thinks  on  it  long  enough,  on  how  he  has  been  permitted  to  live  with  this  ability  only  meant  for  women,  then  not  even  thoughts  of  pleasure  can  contain  her  rage.

Mother  speaks,  Lucius  laughs  good-naturedly.  They  raise  their  glasses  in  a  toast ;  crystal  clinking  together  to  solidify  a  friendship.  The  Mills  Estate  is  large,  sprawling  across  fertile  lands  that  houses  the  infamous  Honeycrisp  orchard   &  a  stable  filled  with  race  horses  that  make  them  richer  than  Regina’s  father  has  ever  been ⸻   &  he  was  a  Prince.  But  not  for  Cora,  not  for  Regina’s  mother  who  craves  power  as  much  as  Regina  craves  freedom.  This  is  why  a  piece  of  that  wealth  is  being  carved  out,  rented  to  a  Mr.  Malfoy,  his  wife,  and  surly  son  who  sits  with  posture  as  ramrod  straight  as  Regina’s.  

She  has  no  idea  where  they  have  come  from,  what  relationship  they  might  possess  with  her  mother  beyond  this  newly  minted  landlord   &  tenant.  Regina  shifts  uneasily,  forgetting  she  is  to  remain  invisible  tonight.  To  be  nothing  more  than  a  statue.  Cora’s  gaze  finds  her,  rests  on  her  as  heavily  as  her  disappointment  does.    ❛  Be  a  dear,  Regina,  ❜  Cora  says,  a  twitch  in  her  jaw  betraying  the  adoring  smile  she  has  put  on  for  her  guests.  ❛  Show  young  Mr.  Malfoy  around  the  estate  whilst  the  adults  finish  up  talk  of  business.  ❜      Regina swallows,  then  nods.  Her  chair  is  pushed  back  soundlessly,  her  curtsy  deep    &  respectful,   &  then  she  gestures  for  the  boy  ( who  looks  as  if  his  soul  was  sucked  out  of  him  by  a  Dementor) to  follow  her  out  the  door.  

This  cannot  be  a  matchmaking  attempt, she thinks.  Regina  eyes  her  companion  with  barely  concealed  disdain,  taking  in  the  expensive,  but  rumpled  clothing.  The  shinny,  unkempt  hair ;  the  dark  circles  under  light  eyes.  He  is  younger  than  he  looks.  Younger  than  Regina  by  a  handful  of  years  ( not  many,  but  enough ),  yet…  haunted  by  the  same  demons,  perhaps.  Did  his  first  love  die  at  the  hands  of  his  mother ?  Did  his  engagement  to  a  Lord end  painfully  short  after  the  man  thrice  his  age  died  from  a  heart  attack  during  their wedding  vows ?  She’d  like  to  think  not.  She  hopes  not.  Regina  cannot  have  someone  flouncing  around  the  estate  who  has  license  to  be  angrier  than  she.

The breaking of the world had come. Moiraine Aes Sedai had warned them, said The Dragon had been reborn, had matured, would be ready for a fight they never thought would come in their lifetime. She wishes now that the Red Ajah had believed her.

Regina sits at the edge of the Blight, laughter bubbling up in her throat. For all her years tracking down those who would misuse the One Power, searching for men who would let The Maddness in, she had never envisioned herself caught in a civil war between believers and non-believers. Their Ajah had been rifiled through, torn apart, and then haphazardly pieced together. Liandrin's pride had been their downfall, and Regina's anger at everything and everyone hadn't helped.

There is a woman on her knees claiming to be a princess. The slouch of her shoulders, the twist of her lips, the way her eyes flick to every valuable in the room as if she has never seen anything like it before. IT SCREAMS POVERTY.

❛ Do you think me a fool, girl ? ❜ she asks. Regina does not intend for THE STREET RAT to answer, and she doesn't give the girl an opportunity either. ❛ Princess or not— ❜ she pauses, sneering at the title. ❛ No noble would incur my wrath unless they had a death wish. ❜

The chair had once been comfortable, before the strain of using SAIDAR made her bones ache. She's been at it for days, trying to contain the man who calls himself THE DRAGON — and the little reprieve they get is nothing more than torment when they must return to the task. Moiraine’s arrival has been a godsend, but Regina would never admit it out loud, even as they sit side by side.

NATIONAL CITY— she had choked the name out of some peasant when she materialised here; And for her sins, a flying woman has come to confront her. Regina pouts. ❛ That's an unkind accusation, ❜ she says, flicking her fingers toward the man who still rubs his throat. ❛ He is just as much to blame for HIS INSULT. ❜

His insult being ignoring her.

A Queen is never ignored.

❛ Sheriff Swan. ❜ The name rings with a taste of bitterness Regina can never seem to get used to; yet she spits it out as elegantly as she can, saying ― see? I can take a loss and be gracious. But she knows she does a poor job of it. ( Sidney still suffers her wrath for his failure to win the election, but that is neither here nor there. )

Her gaze does not lift from the table, staring at the tea before her. A new household, a new set of rules to follow. This could be an act of kindness or it could be a test. June opts to follow the “no nonsense” route for now. ❛ I pray the Lord makes me truly worthy. By His hand, I will be fruitful and bring His divine gift into your home. ❜ Losing another child, it wasn’t something she was looking forward too. The three years spent with the previous house, the blonde prayed night after night that no child would come. How lucky she had been that her prayers had been answered. Could she be granted that same luck here? She wasn’t hopeful. How could she bare to lose another after Hannah? Did she even remember her? A new baby certainly wouldn’t, not after this Wife erased all memory of her.

❛ I feel so blessed to be helping you in any way, Mrs. Mills. Praise be His bounty, may your garden be beautiful. ❜

Regina  is  capable  of  kindness.      There  have  been  moments  throughout  her  history  when  she  demonstrated  as  such———  to  her  marthas,    to  her  husband,    TO  THE  FIRST  HANDMAID.      But  life  is  like  that,    no  matter  the  best  of  intentions,    it  always  lets  you  down.      Makes  you  yearn  for  something  you  will  never  have;      and  so,    Regina  herself  has  put  up  guards,    learnt  to  expect  nothing,    give  nothing,    be  unkind.      ‘Do  something  different  with  this  one’.        Different,  how  ?

Should  Regina  open  herself  to  the  possibility  of  being  sent  to  the  colonies  ?    Should  she  shove  a  book  in  this  handmaid’s  hands  and  give  her  the  pleasure  of  skipping  ceremonies  ?    Should  Regina  reveal  how  she  runs  this  house  from  a  study  meant  for  Graham    (  one  he  must  knock  to  enter,  one  she  occassionally  fucks  him  in  when  they’re  both  desperate  enough  ).      Would  that  make  this  woman  loyal  to  her  ?      Would  that  give  her  a  child  ?

TO  BE  IN  THE  HANDS  OF  A  VILLAIN  IS  ONE  THING  ;  to  be  in  the  hands  of  a  woman  who  has  done  so  much  damage  to  the  savior  &  her  family  is  another  ;  but  to  know  those  same  hands   ——  the  ones  that  can  so  easily  slip  poison  &  rip  out  beating  hearts  &  cast  curses  that  destroy  lives  ——  also  belong  to  the  woman  who  holds  some  long  deserted  part  of  the  saviors  heart  ?         DANGER  DANGER  DANGER  !       irreparable  danger.          the  kind  that  either  leads  to  death  or  things  emma  can’t  even  begin  to  dream  up.           

A  LIFE  WITH  REGINA  MILLS.        the  evil  queen.           her  lover  ,  in  this  hypothetical  future.       what  would  that  look  like  ?           cuddling  on  the  sofa  while  henry  does  his  homework  on  the  ground  ;  cooking  dinner  together ,  sharing  recipes  &  tips  ;  slipping  into  a  bed  no  longer  kept  cold  on  one  side.         PEACEFUL.         loving.           so  far  out  of  reach.     

the  hand  wrapped  around  her  jaw  does  bring  some  rigidity  to  the  savior  ——–  but  there’s  also  TRUST  in  her  judgement  to  not dislodge  her.       if  regina  wanted  her  dead  ,  would  it  really  be  through  choking  her  out  on a  beach  ?            no  , no  ,  it  would  be  a  spectacle  of  torture.          this  was  a  show  of  intimacy.         in  regina’s  own  way  ,  at  least.        all  claws  &  fangs  hiding  the  girl  she’d  once  been.   

the  hand  goes  to  emma’s  throat  &  something  STIRS  in  her  ———  something  entirely  unholy.        fear  should  be  there  ,  but  emerald  eyes  can  do  nothing  but  look  upon  the  brunette  with  perhaps  a  bit  too  much  eagerness  ,  lips  parting  in  anticipation  for  the  cut  off  of  air.       her  gaze  dares  her  ———–  dig  your  claws  in  ;  who  really  needs  to  breathe  ?         

when  a  kiss  comes  instead  ,  emma’s  caught  off  guard.         she’s  not  unused  to  kisses  like  this  —–  the  were  possessive  &  demanding  &  clearly  a  fight  for  dominance.          not  the  fairy  sweet  ,  true  love  kisses  storybrooke  sang  about.          WHAT  WAS  THIS  EXACTLY  ?   

her  footing  is  quickly  regained  as  she  leans  into  the  witches  hand  ,  neutral lips moving easily with the pace the queen sets.          emma  goes  as  far  as  to  nibble  on  the  queens  lower  lip  &  pull  it  out  in  a  pout.     &  in  a  swift  movement  ,  she’s  rolled  herself  on  top  of  the  queen  as  they  both  fall  back  ,  thighs  straddling  her  waist.          sitting  up  ,  she  grins  , proud  of  herself  as  she  arranges  her  hair  over  one  shoulder  ;  then  just  swiftly  ,  shes  dipped down  ,  catching  regina’s  lips  in  a  deep  kiss.            to  remind  her  of  the  compromise  made  between  them  ,  she  finds  one  of  regina’s  hands  &  moves  to  pin  it  beside  regina’s  head  ,  emma’s fingers  intertwined  with  regina’s  so  she  can  hold  her  hand  tightly.              one hand  on  the  leash  ,  one  hand  free.         

emerald  eyes  meet  chocolate  ,  studying  her  there in  the  sand.         a  wry  smile  curves  her  lips.         she  won’t  hold  any  upper  ground  for  long.        ❛       you  look  nice  from  this  angle.     ❜          a  playful  grin  ,  nose  nudging  the  queen’s.           ❛       i  look  better  on  top.      ❜            to  accentuate  her  point  ,  she  sheds  her  jacket  ,  leaving  her  in  a  tank  top  and  jeans ;  her  muscular  arms  are  on  full  display  as  she  stretches  her  arms  above  her  head  to  crack  her  back.           one  they’re  back  down  ,  she  leans  back  over  the  queen  ,  one  hand  planting  in  the  sand  by  her  head  while  the  other  rests  ,  palm  down  ,  over  regina’s  heart.          ❛     THAT  OLD  THING  BACK  IN  THERE  YET  ?    ❜             she  leans  down  ,  pressing  her  ear  over  the  spot  instead.         

Regina  doesn’t  know  how  to  feel.    Emma  kisses  her  back,  makes  a  show  of  it.    Leaves  Regina  breathless,  powerless  ———  too  AFRAID  to  put  Emma  in  her  place,  to  tell  her  to:    stop,  THIS  IS  MY  SHOW.

But  she’s  not  the  evil  queen  here;    she’s  only  a  mother  trying  to  hold  onto  her  son,  kissing  a  woman  she  doesn’t  deserve.    That  conscious  again,  ticking  on  the  end  of  her  nerves,  making  her  remember  the  horrible  things  she’s  done,  the  way  the  cursed  scroll  had  crumbled  to  ash  in  her  hand  as  she  sacrificed    &    sacrificed    &    gave  everything  she  had.    Now  she’s  got  it  back—  one  stradling  her  waist  and  the  other  playing  video  games  in  Snow’s  loft,  but  it  doesn't  feel  right,  doesn't  feel  like  how  she  left  it.

Play  nice,  Regina  thinks.      Play  nice,  she  begs  herself  as  her  back  meets  the  ground,  her  perfectly  set  hair  mingling  with  loose  sand.    BE  NICE,  BE  OPEN,  BE  LOVING.    Be  anything  but  the  woman  who  wants  to  shove  Emma  Swan  off  her,  plunge  her  hand  in  that  hollow  chest  and  steal  that  pure  heart  away.    This  isn’t  who  Regina  sold  herself  to  be,  and  God  be  damned  she  won’t  be  returned  because  she’s  a  little  damaged  just  as  the  saviour  starts  kissing  her.

An  ear  to  her  chest,  her  heart  thumping  against  her  ribcage.    A  heart,  so  personal  and  tragic.    So  weak  when  it  wants  to  be.    ❝  It’s  there,  ❞    she  says.    Doesn’t  elaborate  on  when  she  took  it  out,  doesn’t  ask  when  Emma  came  to  know.    Regina  lies  there  in  the  sand,  her  lips  tingling,  a  weight  on  her  chest.    Something  within  her  stills,  BECOMES  MATERNAL.    Emma  smells  like  Henry  (  not  her  perfume,  not  her  shampoo,  not  the  sea  breeze  sticking  to  her  skin),    it’s  in  their  blood.    In  the  way  they  both  settle  atop  her,  seeking  somethng  more  than  she  can  give.

What  a  sobering,  pathetic  thought.    To  feel  more  comforable  mothering  the  saviour  than  kissing  her.    Regina  wraps  her  arms  around  Emma’s  back,  tugs  her  closer,  presses  their  bodies  so  tightly  together  that  Emma  wouldn’t  be  able  to  leave  if  she  wanted  to.    She’d  stay  here  in  the  sand,  embraced  by  Regina,  any  thought  of  New  York  squashed  between  them.    (  But  she  was  invited,  summonded  to  be  a  family.    And  how  much  power  would  she  lose  then  ?    How  much  of  Just  Regina  can  she  handle  before  everything  begins  to  fail  ?  )