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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 4 years

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The Red Witch

Jasper Hale x Reader Part 4

A/N: Part 4 has arrived my lovelies! Sorry if it took too long, I was really busy with work. And I just wanna say, even though I have never met you all, I love you guys and wish you a blessed life. 🥺💕

Summary: Imagine being an immortal witch from the Middle Ages and being the previous love of Jasper before he was turned. You two were separated under certain circumstances and cross each other’s path once again, years later in the present era.

Warning: language

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 5

The apparition faded away and the shaking of the furniture came to a stop. You felt the heavy weight lift off your chest as you were finally able to move, allowing you to take in a gulp of cold air. The scream that was trapped within you for so long from the paralyzing sensation was ripped out of your throat, echoing into the night. You yanked yourself out of bed and fell to the floor, wheezing and trembling as you clasped a clammy hand around the base of your throat, clawing at the invisible hand that seemed to be wrapped around in a tight grip. It felt as if your head was about to burst as you tried to regain your breathing. Your vision was blurry from the lack of oxygen as you heard the door bust open and Harper run in.

“(Y/N)?! Are you okay? What’s going on?!” Harper cried out in a panic, her brows etched in worry as she saw you shaking on the floor.

“Harper. Stay back.” You struggled to say between coughs. You looked down to see your hands returning to their claw like shape, the black tendrils forming at the skin of your fingers.

Your vision slowly cleared up and you looked up to see Melanie enter your room next with a lantern in her hand. She stared at you with wide eyes as she held Harper behind her. “Mon dieu! (Y/N)! Is everything alright? I heard a warning through the trees. They spoke of a presence.”

You were still on the cold wooden floor on your hands and knees, still trembling in cold sweat as your hair fell over your face in a tangled mess.

“Those. Those things. They’re back.” You sobbed as tears fell down your face and onto the wooden floor. You didn’t want to look up at your sister. She’s never seen you like this and you were thankful in the short moment for the darkness.

“Those things? You mean the spirits? (Y/N), mon amie.” Melanie carefully stepped towards you, trying to reach a comforting hand towards you to rest on your back.

“No!” You stopped her. “Please. Don’t. I need to be alone.”

“(Y/N).” You heard Harper call your name.

“Please.” You begged, turning your face away from their stares.

“If you’re sure. Allez Harper.” Melanie muttered before putting an arm around Harper’s shoulders and leading her out of your room and leaving you to yourself with one last saddened glance. It broke her heart to see you in this vulnerable state.

Melanie offered to take Harper to school as you felt you were unable to. You felt ashamed. You felt weak. That morning, you sat on a chair out on your balcony, wrapped in a shawl with Maleficent curled in your lap, watching the sunrise. The sun peeked out over the horizon, illuminating the dark hills in the distance with a golden glow that slipped through the bundle of trees. You felt the warm rays of the sun touch your face against the coolness of dawn, like the gentle caress of a loved one, which is something you’ve never had the ability to experience, and yet, a wave of relief washed over you. You didn’t know why, but you sensed as if there was a bit of hope left to this day, that it might turn around for the better. You thought perhaps that it might be due to the end of the night and the coming of a new day.

After sitting out and basking in the scenery for a while longer, you went back into your bedroom and threw over your nightgown a floor length dark blue velvet robe that had embroidered flowers and hummingbirds at the collar, cuffs, and hem, tying it around your waist. You then put the front strands of your hair back, tying it with a blue silk ribbon.

You wandered mindlessly through the halls of your manor with Maleficent accompanying you at your side, your bare feet tapping against the cool dark walnut floors and occasionally brushing upon the soft handmade wool Turkish rugs that slightly tickled your bare feet. The skirts of your attire flowed with your every step while you lightly hummed to yourself, until you stopped at a particular room.

You stared at the large double doors before you that led to a surprisingly decent sized area that could be held as a ballroom. You pushed open the doors and glanced around at the tall windows before landing on a large object that sat in the back corner. Your grand piano. You walked over to it and pulled the dust cover off, running your fingers lightly across the keys before sitting down on the bench. You sat there for a moment, pondering, your fingers shifting above the keys. You breathed and started to play a meloncholy tune and began to sing. You haven’t sang or played the piano in a long time, not since Jasper at least. But you were currently so melted in your music, playing along with your eyes closed that you didn’t notice the person walking up to your front door this very moment.

Jasper stood under the porch at the front door of what he believed to be your residence. His eyes observed the intricate wood carvings and the detailed exterior work, and the somewhat sinister looking greenman door knocker that Jasper could’ve sworn was staring him down. Your home reminded him of a time he used to know, back before all of this. Jasper was about to ring the doorbell but stopped when he heard the sound of a piano come from inside. He leaned closer, and that’s when he heard your voice. Your hypnotic yet haunting voice that resonated beautifully with the melody, creating this ethereal sound. He pressed his ear against the door and his breath cut short. He was entranced to say the least from this beautiful voice. Yet, why did he feel as if he heard your voice many times before.

You were still lost in your music until you heard Edgar’s voice coming from the living room.

“Ack! There’s an intruder at the door! Someone has invaded our premises! Ack!

Intruder?

You stopped and snapped your head towards the entrance. Who could it be?

“Have you gone deaf? Intruder I say! Intruder! Intruder!”

“Silly bird.” You muttered, throwing on your gloves and cursing under your breath.

You secretly hated having to converse with visitors you did not expect nor know. The same went to Maleficent for she ran off once Edgar mentioned someone being at the door.

“I’ll have you know there’s a sign out that strictly says no soliciting.” You call out as you walk towards the door. Now unless you have Girl Scout biscuits I want no part of it.”

You unlocked the door and yanked it open, only to stand in shock to see none other than Jasper himself at your doorstep.

“Hi.” He gave a short smile as he studied your flushed face. His eyes roamed down your attire, the way your long thick hair cascaded over your bare collarbone and down your chest, and the way the loose strands in the front curled delicately about, framing your face. He quickly looked back up at you as to not seem rude but stopped at the locket around your neck. There was a slight tingling in the back of his mind regarding the locket with the dragonfly but he couldn’t figure out why.

As for you, though you were modestly covered, you felt exposed and couldn’t help the blush that spread across your cheeks. Jasper had never seen you in your night attire. A situation such as this would’ve caused quite the scandal back then.

“Uh, can I help you?” You played it off, adjusting your robe to cover your collarbone. “I believe the coffee shop is downtown. You do know you’re at my personal residence don’t you?”

“Um, can I speak to you for a moment?” He seemed uneasy.

“Um sure. Come in.” You stuttered, the question catching you off guard.

You opened the door wider for him to come in, and your heart skipped a beat as you felt him brush by you.

You closed the door and turned to him, clasping your hands together and fidgeting with your fingers. You were quite nervous having Jasper in your home. “Would you care for some tea? Or coffee?”

“I’ll have some coffee, thanks.”

“Okay, um, you’re welcome to have a seat in the parlour room, on the settee, or whichever.” You gesture to your room with the fireplace and the set of Victorian chairs with tables.

“Thank you.” Jasper nodded his head at you before heading into the room. You made your way to the kitchen and made yourself a cup of blueberry lemon tea and a regular coffee for him, cursing in your mind during the whole task.

After the drinks were prepared, you went into the Parlor to see Jasper slightly reclined on the settee, his gazed fixed on the crackling fire in the fireplace.

You tried not to tremble when handing him his drink. Jasper thanked you as you handed him his coffee before sitting down on a dark red velvet chair across him.

You both sat there in silence, struggling to find the words to say.

“Why the gloves?” He nodded towards your hands.

“Oh um. I have very sensitive skin.” You’ve always used that excuse whenever someone asked you.

More silence.

Was he skeptical of you? You didn’t know why he was here wanting to speak with you, but it was starting to become unsettling.

“Who are you?” He asked first, still staring off into the fireplace.

“I’m sorry?” You faked a smile, “I own a coffee shop downtown.”

“No. That’s not what I meant.” Jasper stopped before turning to face you. “Who are YOU?” He emphasized.

There was a certain coldness to his gaze and it made you cold. This wasn’t like Jasper.

“I-I” you tried to come up with something, anything.

“Ever since I first saw you, I’ve had this strange feeling.” Jasper laughed bitterly with a shake of his head. “Hell, I don’t even know you, and you sure as hell don’t mean anything to me.”

Ouch. That hurt.

You felt your chest tighten from those words, but you kept your ground. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I feel like you do. It explains why you’re so nervous at the moment.” He gestured to you. “I can sense these sort of things. So, tell me. Why is it that I feel like I know you when I don’t. And how come, how come you don’t smell human? What are you?”

You straightened up in your seat as your vision from last night flashed in your mind.

We are monsters. He could never love a thing like you. No one can.

So it’s true, you told yourself. You weren’t human, no matter how hard you tried to be. They could never accept you as one. Your father used to say the same thing. His disdain for the human race was evident and he held a great pride about him for being a powerful sorcerer. He would tell you to not meddle in mortal affairs. He tried to mold you into his ways. Which is why you spent your childhood locked up, away from humanity and only surrounded by your father’s sadism. Had you not had your mother, your poor kind hearted mother who was bound to your evil father, you might’ve turned out just like him. You often pondered upon it. And now, you were wondering whether your fathers words were true or not. Was he right about the human’s hatred for your kind?

“Jasper.” You breathed out, you couldn’t stop yourself from saying his name. You were torn apart, tears forming at the corner of your eyes as you stared down at the cup of tea in your hands.

“Ah, so you do know me.” He sat back, his stern eyes never leaving yours.

“I-I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Well you could start from the beginning.”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t or you won’t?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Look.” Jasper sighs, running his hands through his hair. “I just want to know what the hell is going on.”

“I can’t. I literally can’t tell you even if I tried.” You set your tea down on the table as you tried to explain yourself. “All the words I say will have no effect over you.”

“Great. So what? Am I supposed to just shrug it off? Pretend like all these feelings I’m getting from looking at you is just a bunch of delusions?”

You closed your eyes, sucking in a deep breath. “There is another way.”

“What other way?”

“But it can be a dangerous process.”

“How so?”

“I can try to reach into your mind and try to resurface your memories.” You revealed to him. “But, if something were to go wrong, you could lose everything. Even any knowledge of who you are.”

“You what? How?” Jasper looked at you confused. “What do you mean reach into my memories? You’re not a vampire.”

“I promise you, when this goes according to plan, I will explain everything.”

You got up and sat next to him on the settee, your head pounding in your chest as you placed your gloved hands on either side off his head. “I’m going to need you to stay still. This may sting a bit.”

Part of you didn’t want to do this. Trying to unwind the memory spell on Jasper meant that you would have to relive those memories you shared with him all over again. And you weren’t sure your heart could take this torment.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You asked him one final time.

There was a pause as you watched Jasper look away, weighing the decision in his head before looking back up at you.

“Go ahead.”

There was your answer.

You could feel Jasper’s eyes on you as you closed your own, pursing your lips into a firm line in concentration. You tried to keep your hands still on either side of his head as you lightly touched his temples, trying to focus on the first memory you had of him. The day you first saw him in Texas.

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nickkkwritesstuff · 3 years

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Day 11: Name

((I’m so late for this aaa i didn’t know how to start this nor how to finish but here ya go, enjoy ;) it’s 1 am))

Vivi massaged her temples frustrated, the screen in front of her eating her brain and questioning her intelligence once again. She sat on the floor, legs closed and back firmly pressed against one side of her bed looking towards the open door of her bedroom at the apartment she and Arthur shared.

There she was, hidden among piles of tomes and encyclopedias. Her hands fidgeting with the edges of her sweater and matching skirt as her ocean eyes fixated on her laptop like deadly daggers. Vivi fought to concentrate on the chase, one that shouldn’t bother her as much as it did, but the beat of a heart kept stealing her attention like a fire alarm.

Resting on top of her night table, a shiny golden locket drumbed loudly enough to echo on her chest. The girl gave it a quick glance, just a little look to ease the need to open it. Oh, words would never hold enough power to describe how much she hated that anchor.

Vivi could hear the owner of such trinked luring around their kitchen, unbothered by her thoughts, he kept his distance from her after being aware of how she felt towards him. It hadn’t been long ago when the wraith (what was his name again?) had rejoined their small group just after he had come to terms with Arthur, they got along fine, both having to get used to each other again but things were working out slowly, painfully slowly, however Vivi wasn’t buying any of this, the ghost and her friend told her the most heartwarming stories about the couple they once were, and he sounded like a nice guy, really, but the hatred she had seen on his eyes and the way the ghost had tried to willingly kill Arthur not once but twice didn’t mix well.

As for that, the ghost had trusted Vivi his anchor as both a promise and a guarantee.

He (she had his name on the tip of her tongue) had guarantee that he wouldn’t try to hurt their scrawny blond mechanic ever again, and if he ever did, she guarded his anchor to perform a clean exorcism and get rid of him for forever; and he also confirmed that she would find the answers to her questions inside of it.

But Vivi was afraid of the truth.

Arthur had tried many times to itch her to open it, Mystery had done the same a few times last month and they had offered her to confirm her memories, just in chase they were incorrect and the ghost tried to brainwash her.

Vivi cracked her knuckles and returned back to work, ignoring the loud thum next to her. She pressed the keys harder than before to mute her thoughts but she interrupted herself when she catched her bobbing her head to the rhythm of the anchor. Vivi closed the computer angrily fighting the urge to throw it out of the window and sat down on her bed.

Her eyes landed on the golden heart, imitating the pulse of a real organ. Her hands stretched to welcome it onto her hold but she freezed and withdrawned them to her sides.

What if her world stumbled down again?

What if she realized how wrong she was?

What if she didn’t like what she saw?

Vivi couldn’t bear to see what she knew fall again. Everything was working out, she was fine with the life she had, why wasn’t it enough? It should be enough, why can’t it be enough?

Vivi looked at the anchor and wished to rip it in pieces and end her suffering. Her hands once again reached for it and this time she felt the smooth surface on her delicate touch. Her thumb ran across the cover like it was made of glass and found her reflection like a perfect mirror.

“Is everything okay?” A deep voice called from the door forcing her to look up and meet the skeleton’s face. He probably felt her touching his heart.

She bit her lips. “Yes, it’s fine,” She assured, placing the locket on her lap. “I just- ah”

The girl failed to explain herself. “I’m wondering how things were before… y’know.” Vivi moved a little and patted next to her inviting the spirit to sit. He placed himself on the other end of the bed, giving her as much space as he could and did his best to look smaller. “What if everything’s different? How am I supposed to react? What should I do with that? It’s just too much.”

Vivi’s chest tightened as she trailed off inside her mind, maybe she was overthinking it after all, but a large hand on her back gently pulled her off her thoughts before they choked her.

He sighed (or did the equivalent for a ghost) and retrieved his anchor from her grip. “It’s okay if you want to take your time,” the spirit fidgeted a little with the locket on his hands. “and we’re not going to push you to go through that. We were friends once, who says we can’t be friends again?”

It wasn’t a smile what the ghost pulled but it was close enough, one gentle but awkward smile. Vivi’s guess was that it would look better with his human disguise on (the one she couldn’t see or she’ll black out.)

She placed her hands on top of his and applied some pressure until she heard a soft click and the anchor opened like a book ready to be read. “But I want to know what I lost.”

The last came out more like a whisper to her ears, not sure if the ghost had heard her, but Vivi did not care. She guided his hands back to her lap to take a look inside the locket. It contained a single picture of the group, smiling as they never had and squished together to fit in the small frame.

Vivi felt like she had passed through a wall, one by one she saw memories long lost and recent adventures she would have never imagined, it all felt true and right and nostalgic until she was forced back into reality.

She was sitting staring at a wall, crying; the ghost panicking silently next to her unsure to pull her on a hug or lay her on the bed. Vivit turned to look at the wraith, recognition filling her eyes.

“Lewis?” She gasped and her world shattered again.

#nickkkwritesstuff #mysterymarch2021 #mysterymarch2021no.11 #relationship it's reader's choice <3 #i wrote this kind of gen so yeah #msa lewis #msa vivi

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the-canary · 5 years

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Stay Gold - B.B (4/5)

Summary: Ours doesn’t have a happy ending, but I’ll give you everything else. (Reader/Mobster!Bucky Barnes)

Prompt: Everlong - Foo Fighters

A/N: this is for @tropicalcap‘s 4k writing challenge. it took me so long to figure the pacing for this story but we are back on and warning there is charater death and nothing but angst <3

Yelena tells you that they have gone out together once more, for days this time. She whispers that James looks so much happier with her at his side, that you are all but forgotten as he moves on to a newer, healthier woman -- one that could give him everything that he could dream. However, you keep writing your letters, professing that you are so sorry for being so weak, wishing that you could go outside once more with him and dance the night away.

None of them are ever answered back and as you look at all trinkets and letters that your James had given you once -- before the marriage, before the war, before he wasn’t yours anymore-- and make your decisions because you will not be like your mother and cling to a man that doesn’t love you anymore.

Your hands shake as you try to make it out of bed with all your will. Blue eyes give you a questioning look as you grab your shawl and grab anything you can carry.

You leave the Barnes mansion in a small car with coughs wracking your body in the bloody cold December weather. You have left one last letter on James’s desk, before asking and paying the driver to take you as far as possible.

Yelena stands there in the shadows of the mansion watching the car drive off into the darkness. Your smile and shaking hands the last things she remembers as the news of a fallen automobile, of a dying young woman near the brink of the river, makes the news in a small article a few days later.

“James, James,” is what is written in the newspaper as the last thing the young woman spoke before giving into her injuries; she was a goner, to begin with, this just agitated her illness even more.

It was bound to happen, Yelena thinks herself before folding the newspaper and putting in her pocket for another day.

There are bigger things she has to move forward with now.

“Just tell her what you mean, Sarge. Nobody is gonna know what you mean if you keep clamping up like an oyster.”

It’s the only thing mulling over his head after his yearly meeting with the rest of the Howling Commandos back in New York. Bucky was sure that Steve would have told him the same thing -- where was the cocksure youth he had been once?

But, there was always something that made him go crazy in a desperate sort of way when it comes to you, whether it was your family’s background, how you smiled when you took care of him and treated him like the same old Brooklyn Bucky, or how you never seem to run away from him...until recently. Looking you up due to his own fears had been stupid, James knew that now and he was going to fix it -- he was going to spend the rest of his days making sure you knew how much he loved you.

He’s already planning it --a nice dinner and dancing in the main hallway-- until Pierce sends him another mission on the other side of the world. He knows what is coming up, but with a deflated heart he hopes that you haven’t forgotten about that special date or him either because even with all the bloodshed, money, and power in his life -- you’re the one bright light that he still has left.

“So, what are you planning for when you get back?” Natasha can’t help but ask in her quest to make small talk, she was still trying her hardest to blend into the “normal” population and James always tried to help when he could.

“Ma anniversary is coming up,” James grins at the thought, “”m a wine and dine like the best of them.”

He ends up coming back home two weeks behind the initial date with a set of broken ribs and with Natasha at his side. There is a sick feeling in his heart over missing your anniversary and there is so much he needs to explain, regardless of how you might react. James is tired of keeping everything bottled up inside, he wants you to know that he loved you despite and in spite of everything.

So, instead of going into his room or his study, he staggers to the little room that he has kept you locked in for quite some time -- something else he hates himself for. However, instead of being met with a locked door, it was completely open and there is no sign of you anywhere.

He yells at everyone to look and questions where you have gone, but nobody knows where you have gone. James is at a loss until he drags himself into searching his own room and study. Natasha leaves him alone, as she goes to question the staff.

In his loneliness is when he finds it, a small envelope with James Buchanan Barnes written on the front in your handwriting. He freezes, staring at the one letter meant for him out of all the ones he had seen. He rips is open and begins to read what he can:

Dear Bucky,

I’m sorry I was so weak, even though I loved you...I wasn’t ever really strong enough, was I?

--I don’t regret any second I spent with you, I hope you understand that one day. I hope she makes you happy, I hope she gives you everything that I couldn’t, but even so…

I know this is selfish, but I have only one request from you, James.

Please don’t forget about all the letters I left for you. Think back on them from time to time...please don’t burn them all.

It’s a record of all my thoughts, feelings and love for you. Please cherish them when you can and remember that ever through it all, someone will always love you.

Stay Gold... Farewell

--- your wife.

“What?” is all he can say in his confusion as he reads those few words over and over again.

It doesn’t take him long to put two and two together, but there is no way for him to know how far you have gone and the exact time you had left, he was at a loss as he kept looking at the small locket you had left him and the last letter he would ever receive from you.

James keeps sobbing, his cries echoing in the empty hallway as in another room Natasha keeps looking at a certain maid.

Natasha finds Yelena --dressed in her tight black dress and pinned blond hair-- in her room after trying to console a broken down James from trying to stop from taking the gun and taking his own life away. To choose to keep sending out search parties to look for you in the surrounding area and abroad --something he will be doing for decades afterward.

Natasha knew it was cruel, that the man had nothing to live for now but she still needed him alive. However, that was another thought for a different time as she looks at her former peer who gives her a beautiful smile and gun pointed at her.

“If you were going after me,” Natasha questions though she is sure she already knows the answer, “Why go after them?”

“For fun,” Yelena shrugs, “Neither able to tell the other their true feelings or fears and everything just fell on my lap. It was too good not to mess with, an added bonus to your demise.”

All Natasha frowns thinking about that shy and loving couple she had met once all that time ago and though there is a heavy feeling in her heart for a split second -- it quickly disappears as Yelena begins her assault. Natasha knows that there is going to be only one victor tonight and if it’s her -- she promises to burn all the lives and make it up with the rest of her life for dragging both of you into this.

It is several years down the line Charles is finally able to look for his sister that he had never heard of once she made it to Albany. He listens and tracks down the name of Barnes in those underground dealings that his father had always warned him off, but Charles was an adult now and he had is own way of dealing with things.

He heard a lot of things along the way from how much land and business James Barnes owned after the fall of Alexander Pierce to the red-haired assassin that was his shadow wherever he went, one word and her widow’s bite would be the last thing you would see. James Barnes is a sullen man with a temper that sneaks up at any minute, he has no friends to speak of but you wouldn’t want to his enemy either. He is one of the most powerful men on this side of the East Coast. However, Charles can’t help but notice that there are some things missing from these tales.

Where is his adoring wife? The children that he promised to dote on and picnics underneath the Sunday sun?

Where are you in all this?

Charles gets his answers a few nights after entering New York state. A few choice words and some cash is thrown here and there and he is standing on the steps of the house James had promised you all those years ago with lovestruck eyes and lovely smile.

He can’t help but wonder how you look like now.

The party is at full blast. The Barnes mansion is a place that is open 24/7 to all members of the collective, but the man whose name is on the building is harder to find, as Charles moves between guests and servants carrying booze all over the place. He pauses in confusion, hours of travel and not being able to find anything are making him weary and ready to head back to his little hotel room and wait until morning, but that’s when he feels it -- a touch on his bicep as he turns to see wide green eyes looking at him, like she has seen a ghost.

“Come with me,” is all she says before dragging him to the darker parts of the mansion where the party nor sun seem to reach anymore. A few locked doors later and he is standing in front of a man, half drunk and the other half hidden by the darkness while staring at a large painted picture. He freezes at the sight.

“James,” the redhead coos softly but he doesn’t move, “I think there is someone you need to see.”

“It’s good to see you again, James,” Charles remarks nervously, “I wanted to visit, but my letters never seem to get through so I decided to come anyway.”

James frowns before taking another gulp of his drink. The redhead leaves and it is just the to of them, as blue eyes take a good while to look at the youth -- same hair and eye color to his beloved, but none of the softness as Charles was no longer a child. James knew he shouldn’t be allowed to see anything that reminded him of you, it was his curse for his idiocy, even the painted picture was a failure in how you had looked liked once.

He hadn’t seen you in years since before that cold winter night. He speaks and it sends Charles on his alert.

“Would you believe me if I told you?” James asks somewhere between tired and desperate. Charles isn’t sure what to believe, but deep down he wants to know where you are -- what happened to his sweet sister and the soldier she married?

“Tell me,” Charles demands as he sees James wince for just a bit, “Then, I’ll make the decision to believe you or not.”

James drops his drink as his face twists into an utter look of misery. He motions at the seat for Charles to sit, but he doesn’t instead choose to stand stiffly and glare at the man that was once his hero. What had he done to you?

Thus the tales start once more of the letters, the lying, the end with no sight of you for years, but James and Charles both know deep down that you had always been weak at heart with what he had done to you and the state you had left in -- there was no way that you could still be alive. Charles feels tears welling up in the corner of his eyes as he feels your pain sink into his heart over everything. He had always been your closest sibling, so he knew what your thought process might have been -- why doesn’t he love me anymore? Why can’t I be good enough? Why am I still alive then?

Charles lets out a hiccup near the end as he can see James’ blue eyes turn red for just a moment before he takes another sip of his drink. There are so many things he wants to say, but he just lets out one thing before leaving the room.

“You never deserved her.”

Charles walks out, as Natasha stands there by the side. James takes another gulp of his drink, losing himself in the dizziness of the alcohol and better memories.

He can’t help but agree because he will be haunted about how he failed the love of his life… for the rest of his life, how dreadfully long that may be.

#tropicalcapsongchallenge #james buchanan barnes #Bucky Barnes #james barnes #james bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #bucky barnes mobster au #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #40's bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fan fic #series: stay gold #fabiola trying to write

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