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vaguekiwi · 3 years

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*reads violet rain ch27* *screams internally for 10mins straight* *wanders off in a daze to get a drink and some chocolate* fsck I need some fluffy comfort fics now

I’m gonna reply to all your asks right here I hope that’s okay ❤️ This was like 100% my fault for being offline but there’s a whole damn conversation under the cut 😂

FSCKING BECK WHEN WILL HE DIE!?!?! lol. Oh boy. My starker heart came to life when Peter thought that somehow Tony was there to save him, and then my starker heart shrivelled into a sad little lump when Peter was on the brink of letting Tony die. But I have to say it did feel painfully realistic, like yeah, if he just let Tony die maybe a lot of problems would be solved. Seems like their relationship has another 100k words to go in order to get anywhere good! Which I for one, welcome! Lol

YES GOD BECK IS INFURIATING IN THIS FIC. I was rereading 16 and 18 the other day (which are Beck’s chapters) and I was like ‘man, I even knew what was coming and these chapters are still SO unsettling on the reread 😂’

I think that the moment where Peter has the opportunity to let Tony die (ostensibly at no fault of his own, albeit he designed the poison sooo 👀🤷‍♀️) is a really important moment for the fic. It digs into that idea that gets brought up in 28 that this is more a reflection of Peter’s character and the concept of divine grace, rather than Tony. Don’t get me wrong, I love Tony. But Violet Rain I think is more of a Peter fic 😄 And… just in the directions things ended up going in, that climactic moment centres more on Peter’s character and concepts of forgiveness rather than revenge.

Their relationship probably does have another 100k words to go to get to a stable place… but umm… we can follow up on this after 29 and 30 are posted 😂

-yo yo just read ch28 of violet rain and like i think this is the first chapter in months that did NOT send my blood pressure through the roof so thank you for that lol. just absolutely incredible what a rollercoaster this has been you should do something fun to celebrate when you get to the end of this fic!

i loved Tony's coma visions of his family and his conversation with Ben. in my opinion it was absolutely spot on - peter didn't save tony because of who tony is, he saved Tony because of who he (peter) is. and that's true grace! nice! like everyone else, i ADORED the cuddling. i like to think that despite everything some part of tony and peter realises that there's this unacknowledged potential & burgeoning chemistry between them. if they had only met under different circumstances...*heart eyes*

also i find violet rain amazing because I feel I could be fine with an ending where Tony annuls the marriage & leaves, then Peter just happily rules Arachne, the end! and they're both like, ok, that was a crazy few months, guess i was kind of attracted to you, occasionally felt a weird connection with you, but never mind lol. meanwhile i, the starker-shipping reader, crumbles into a pile of ashes haha. but that ending would absolutely make sense and be fine! i need to ramble more about this

i'm just so invested in violet rain's ending because like I said, i think it could go either way & make perfect sense. i was just imagining an epilogue where Tony and Peter get word of each other's re-marriage/engagement, Tony to some nice noblewoman & Peter to some nice duke/soldier, & they're both like, oh,that's nice! congratulations & there's some weird unexpected wistfulness & mixed feelings but ultimately acceptance, so it's one of those bittersweet endings that haunts readers FOREVER lmao

I'm so sorry for the spam and ramblings from my imagination haha. I just can't remember the last time I was so invested in a fic! ch28 was such a welcome change of pace for me and my heart rate lol compared to the last i don't know how many chapters! i absolutely love peter refusing to leave Tony for even a second. is it just because he's the only one with the required medical expertise? or also for other, subconscious reasons he's left unexamined? regardless, it made my shipper heart happy!

Yeah, I was quite adamant that 28 not end on a big cliffhanger/scary moment. I didn’t even really want to mention the annulment again, I wanted the end of 28 to just be soft and sweet between the boys. But, part of Tony’s little moral shift involved mentioning the annulment. And I didn’t want it to be forgotten about when it comes up again, so my beta and I added a beat right at the end of 28 which mentions it.

I am so happy you liked Tony’s dreams/visions/whatever-they-actually-were lol 😅 Originally, Ben was kinda weirdly-nice to Tony and my betareader ended up pushing for a harsher tone, which I think ended up working out GREAT. Because, the dreams needed to read as EITHER an ethereal/paranormal experience for Tony OR as Tony’s subconscious speaking to himself, what would Tony think these people will say/do.

“If they had met under different circumstances” is really the kicker, isn’t it? I have an ex who I often think of as being ‘the right person at the wrong time’. He very well could have been the absolute-endgame-love-of-my-life. He was effortless for me: we had many of the same values, many of the same interests, we were compatible in many ways, etc. But I think that endgame would only have existed if we’d met differently and once we were older. Now, he and I never hurt one another as egregiously as Tony hurts Peter or anything like that. But it’s very hard to walk away from so much potential just because the timing or setting or external factors didn’t work out.

And honestly? You just being on board with a non-Starker ending? 🥺🥺 That makes me so soft. I’m glad the direction of the story fits and the thought of that tiny bit of heartbreak-wistful-but-still-satisfying-happyish-ending is actually exactly what I’m going for (though, spoiler alert, your proposal here isn’t how it ends 😅) It’s something bittersweet; acknowledging that a lot of pain and heartbreak has occurred but still finding a way to move forward. They have a lot of life left to live, after all!

I’m a big fan of the artist Sleeping at Last and his songs Three and Light have been on my mind a lot as I draft the end of the fic. Three has a whole thing about past regrets and doing enough to make up for them, even though humans are automatically worthy of love/grace/etc.

Please never ever apologise for talking to me about this fic. As you can tell from this reply (which I actually pared down, lmao) I have SO much to talk about regarding my own life, this fic, different scenes, the brainstorming/drafting/re-brainstorming/re-drafting/revising process, etc. I think once I’m done I’m gonna write up a really big reflection for myself and there’s no doubt in my mind it’ll be like ten thousand words lmao.

And as for Peter staying by Tony’s side: Peter Parker’s a control freak 😂 Part of it is that he has the most expertise, but he also mentions in Ch. 28 that if he did go sleep somewhere else then he wouldn’t be able to sleep because he’d be worried about Tony. So, there is indeed something subconscious keeping him by Tony’s side in addition to his perceived obligation as a doctor (he did the same thing with Rhodey in Chs. 7-8.)

I really really hope the end of the fic holds up my end of the bargain to you and other readers with this whole crazy adventure❤️❤️❤️ I’m not sure right now when 29 and 30 will be up, but I can’t wait for you to read them ❤️❤️❤️

#grace talks #asks #blutterlie #under a violet rain

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letsperaltiago · 4 years

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we’ll sweep out the ashes in the morning |CHAPTER 7|

Even in the middle of New York's freezing month of February, a scandalous familiar fire is ignited within Jake and Amy when they run into each other after years apart. Luckily there's nothing wrong with being caught up in a fire that has to die out soon, right?

Read chapter here or on AO3

CHAPTER MASTERLIST HERE

Being a cop, experiencing so much harm, hopelessness, chaos and everything in-between, was the hardest thing he’d ever have to handle.

Or that’s what he thought right up until the moment Jake stood on the doorstep to Sophia and, weirdly, his apartment in an attempt to get himself to come forward and confess to what he’d done - or just knock on the door would be a good start. For the last minutes, he didn’t even remember how many at that point, he’d been restlessly pacing back and forth outside the front door to their, his and Sophia’s, so-called “home”. But it being Brooklyn it was probably just a matter of time before someone would call the cops on him since he did look kind of disturbed and creepy: he couldn’t keep pacing forever.

His heart was beating so fast; so fast he was absolutely persuaded of having never experienced any similar feeling before. Another thing he noticed, he could’ve sworn, was that he could hear every pumping movement his heart uttered, which made no sense considering he simultaneously felt lightheaded and like no oxygen was getting to his brain. Man, he had messed up so hard. Not only with Amy, but with Sophia too.

Nevertheless he didn’t get much more time to consider, suffer and make up his mind, in reality none at all, because a loud repetitive knock from inside the apartment beat him to it and completely threw him off guard.

“Who’s there!?” he could hear a woman’s voice yell from inside the apartment: Sophia, of course. Her sounding upset was an understatement. “I’ve been hearing pacing and mumbling for the past 5 minutes so don’t act like no one’s there! I can and will call the police!”

Oh, shit - no more time to think. He had to just jump, head in first and… do whatever he could. Either that or cops, probably from his own precinct, would be there to arrest him within 5 minutes.

“No no no, please don’t! It’s me Jake!”

The yelling and warning bangs from her side of the door seized but probably not because, if he knew her well enough, she was relieved. Not that he’d expected her to be though; he couldn’t even begin to imagine how she was feeling, abandoned by the person whom she thought she would spend the rest of her days with, and now, without her knowledge, he was back to make it even worse.

“Can we talk?” He called out.

Silence. 5… 10… 15… seconds.

“I don’t think we have anything to talk about, Jake. I think where you stand has been made very clear.”

Venom coursed through her voice, every syllable, word and sound, which Jake couldn’t even blame her for: he deserved it. All she’d done was love him, saying yes to loving him forever when he had asked her to marry him, and all it’d gotten her was being left on her wedding day; being cheated on though she wasn’t even aware of this. Yet.

“You don’t have to say anything; you don’t even have to look at me… I just need to-“ he cut himself off trying to think of the right words to say though he knew nothing would ever be perfectly right. “I need to come clean: lay it all out on the table. I’m a the world’s biggest dick, and I’m not here to try to convince you of the opposite… Let me just explain a few things, okay? Please, Sophia…”

A sigh full of regret put a period to what he had to say; what he could say as he stood outside the gates to confession waiting to learn if his admission of guilt would be welcomed. On top of this he also felt deep regret knowing he’d hurt an incredible woman, knowing he could’ve acted so much more wisely, but also at the same time not regretting every moment he’d gotten with Amy.

Then, to his surprise, the door swung open revealing an exhausted-looking Sophia clad in sweatpants and being the exact opposite of what he knew her for: put together, cool, always on the move, determined. He’d done this to her and, if possible, he now hated himself even more.

“Hey,” to say smiling felt inappropriate was some understatement as he put on a weak one, but he didn’t know what else to do. Scream? Cry? He sure did feel like it. The smile ended up being the less weird option although it didn’t earn him one in return and that was okay.

Another tense silence, one more than before now that the door was no longer present as a buffer between them, crept up the stairs to where they were by the front door. It immediately let Jake know that no, he probably shouldn’t expect to be let in.

“I don’t have time for small talk, Jacob. Get to the point.”

Jacob. Oh, he was in so much trouble.

“Eh- okay,” his hands shifted uncomfortably in his jean’s front pocket, he took a deep breath and then jumped into the freezing ocean of truth: eyes closed, head first, can’t lose.

“So, first of all, I know this must mean nothing to you which is far beyond understandable, but just wanna say, again, how so very sorry I am for what I did to you - to us…” he paused to see if he should expect some kind of answer, reaction, the bare minimum but alas no. The only moving she did was crossing her arms defensively in front of her chest as if she was gearing up for war. His most qualified guess was that this was his cue to continue.

“…and I’m not here to rub salt in the wound and this might be selfish, I’m not really sure anymore, but I need to tell you the truth. The whole truth.”

This to some extent seemed to catch Sophia’s attention, a sudden curiosity lighting up her darker than usual eyes as if she was a kid who’s just been told they’re going to be let in on a secret. Only this secret surely wouldn’t make her feel any good.

“A few months back, in February, something happened and I already should’ve told you back then but I didn’t because I was a confused and a huge stupid coward and I didn’t know how to tell you.”

From the look on her face Jake could tell that Sophia was slowly starting to put the pieces together. It was only a matter of words, no matter how carefully picked they were on his part, before she would crack the code and know. The secret would be out with taking it back being no option.

“Remember that night I said I was going to Shaw’s with a friend from work?” he tried, not expecting an answer but hoping she’d recall which would allow him to spare her from the details.

Then a look of realisation, the last puzzle piece falling into its designated spot consumed the look on his almost-wife’s face. He could physically see the microsecond it all came together in her mind and it felt like witnessing someone pulling the safety pin of a grenade, and now he had to stay, stand his ground, and handle the explosion.

“Y-you…” she stammered before closing her eyes as to compose herself after the shock of the truth bomb. “You… cheated on me?” he could tell the word was laced with venom, tasting horridly in her mouth as she couldn’t believe she had to say it. “And you didn’t even have the balls to tell me!?” within seconds her voice transitioned from disbelief to loud, ringing anger.

What else could he do but comply? He knew he was the traitor; the culpable; the one in the wrong.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t give a shit about your apologies! I was here, by your side, working my ass off for this wedding and us, meanwhile you were out and about screwing some chick?”

The flinch Jake’s face upon hearing Amy be put on a par with ‘some random girl he’d just screwed’ was in no way discreet, and Sophia of course noticed. It was indeed inevitable that their relationship was over Jake knew that Sophia knew him well - they’d been together for long and about to get married after all. Also, she was a lawyer so there was really no where for him to hide. Her entire demeanour quieted down upon internally analysing the facts.

Jake Peralta, a good guy with no scandalous past, goes out to get drinks with “someone from work” and cheats on her, flinches when she belittles this other woman…

“I know her, don’t I?”

Perhaps yes he was coming clean about everything but still he didn’t exactly feel like exclaiming the mystery woman’s identity. Alas the silence he met Sophia with was enough of an answer. The wheels continuously turned inside her mind, so loud that Jake could’ve sworn that he could actually hear it.

Jake Peralta. Good guy. No scandalous past or track record. Drinks. “Someone from work”. Flinch.

There must be feeling involved. She knows her.

“Someone from work,” Sophia repeated out loud as to speed up the answer coming to her. It was all one big mess in her head but somehow comes together forming a perfectly clear answer.

“Amy… “ she tasted the name on her tongue trying to find the second half of it. “… Amy Santiago. The girl you used to work with back at the Nine-Nine.”

Another silence; another answer; another soundless yes. Suddenly Jake wished he’d never told Sophia about Amy. The two women had never met, but of course Jake couldn’t enter a relationship without bringing home a lot of shop talk, which involved anecdotes and pictures about his squad: ex-partner Santiago who’d by then moved on to work with Major Crimes included

“I can’t believe you went out and screwed an old colleague while I sat at home like the good, naive wife-to-be!” She cursed loudly after having gotten over the big blow of the mistress’ reveal. Jake flinched having no defence as he knew very well that he deserved the rough treatment. What he’d done to her was inconsolable and unforgivable.

“Fuck you, Jake,” her eyes and words were equally life-draining as they dug into him like daggers. “Fuck you for being with me, fuck you for telling me you loved me, for you for building a life with me, fuck you for proposing and the biggest of all fuck yous for almost leading me into a what was already a dead-end marriage.”

By then, having already threatened moments ago but had only actually fallen in the midst of her last outburst, tears were falling on her cheeks.

“I deserve every single ‘fuck you’ you have to offer and I’m so sorry, Sophia. Really, I truly deeply am and, not that it matters now, but I did love you and still do… It’s just-“

“I’m not her,” she finished his sentence for her making it much simpler than whatever long, intricate explanation he would end up forming. And she suddenly looked very calm; upsettingly calm and settled even.

Jake froze. He knew he was thinking it but didn’t exactly expect Sophia to catch up on it so fast.

“You might be the world’s worst person to me right now, and I’m not about to forgive it…” Her eyes for the first time tonight, through the tears, showed a sign of sadness, regret even, rather than anger like she’d come to realise something. “… But I also know that you’re a man who does love and probably did love me, even though it doesn’t feel like it right now, which is also why I know you would never do this to me if there wasn’t someone you…” she halted as if the words didn’t want to come out of her. “… if there wasn’t someone you loved even more, and I don’t want to be with you if there’s someone out there you love more than me. I don’t want to waste my life being someone’s number two: I jut wish you’d told me earlier… Or simply in a way that didn’t include screwing around.”

Jake had never considered the fact that perhaps he had what resembled love for Amy, but hearing Sophia somehow explain his mess to him though she was the victim, it suddenly seemed more clear and obvious than ever before.

“You’re worth much more than I can offer you, Sophia… And I’m sorry I didn’t communicate that properly.”

“Well…” his almost-wife had seemed to calm down although the clenching feeling in his gut, guilt, would surely stick around for some time. “Just make sure to at least offer that Amy something equal her worth. Don’t be an idiot twice.”

Jake nodded trying to change it all in; the switch in tone and mood, all the new facts hitting him harder than a storm.

“Did she know?” Sophia quizzed again after a moment of silence.

“What?”

“That you had me? That you were engaged?”

“Oh, uh…” Jake frowned hating that he knew the answer. Even though it didn’t matter he didn’t want what she did that night to represent Amy. But he couldn’t lie. Not anymore. “Yeah, I think… I believe I mentioned it.”

“Well,” Sophia took a moment to compose herself, grabbing the door as to get ready to close it. “Then perhaps you’re already offering her something equal to her worth.”

Between the confessing to Sophia and trying to win Amy back (is it ‘back’ if he never really had her?) Jake’s having a week from hell, and it very quickly turns out that talking to Sophia very surprisingly comes down to being the easiest task of the two.

It was a dark evening with clouds assembling threatening to spill rain and thunder covering the sky. Perhaps the weather knew how he felt; hopeless, somber, alone. After obviously not being able to stay in his and Sophia’s apartment anymore he’d offered to take the high road and move out - or at least move himself out along with a bag of clothes and bare necessities. The rest of his stuff would come around once he’d found a new place to call his own.

Until then he crashed at Charles’ which both he, Genevieve and especially nephew Nikolaj immensely enjoyed. Although he seemed not as happy and joking as usual, Nikolaj noticed, there was nothing better than spending evenings playing with his priceless collection of trucks and uncle Jake who always impressed him with conniving truck-sounds.

But as soon as the darkness and the moon reigned over New York, when Niko and his parents were fast asleep and the apartment was dead silent, Jake was left to himself in the guest room to ponder endlessly and hating himself so much more. At least during the day he could repress and distract himself from these thoughts and feelings.

The end of him and Amy, though he barely even knew what that meant anymore, suddenly seemed inevitable. Turned out that getting back in contact with a person whose trust you’d lost was harder than one would think - especially when you were obsessed, dying to be with said person, and she wouldn’t answer any calls, texts or voicemails which would allow you to explain.

Jake experienced this first hand as he dialled her number only to be met with her by now all too familiar voicemail.

“Ames, it’s me for the…” he took a brief glance at his phone immediately feeling slightly embarrassed by the sight of call list. “… 4th time today (20th time this week). Please, I’m begging you, pick up. I talked to Sophia and I’m-“ he searched his mind for the perfect words to say but they seemed so far gone, used up and meaningless by now. It already felt like he’d tried every way of wording possible to explain his renewed, honest intentions.

A deep sigh filled the pause before he preceded, slowly feeling himself slipping and giving up. “I miss you. I never meant to hurt you, and I know nothing will undo that I in fact did but please let me explain. I’m at Charles’. I’m staying here until I can find a new place to live and, yeah, Sophia is no longer in the picture. It’s just you, Amy. I just want you. Please call me back - or even just a text would be good too.”

He hung up before putting down his phone and turning over to lie sleeplessly, one more night to add to the list, in his lonely borrowed bed.

To no one’s surprise, least of all Jake’s, this declaration and plead number 20 wasn’t the one to convince Amy of giving him the time of day either. There was no way over, under or around the fact that she simply didn’t want to hear from him, and even less let him hear anything back. Though he was dying to explain himself, wanting nothing more than run to her apartment and kick down her door, tell her he wanted her, he also knew that wasn’t the way things worked. Maybe in movies but not in real life with real people, real feelings and real consequences.

No matter how badly he needed and missed her he respected her wishes, which seemingly was not seeing him. Giving up on her felt wrong, unreal and excruciating when just five days ago he’d been lying in bed with her in his arms in the warm morning sunlight. And though he wasn’t officially about to back down and give in to the screwed up circumstances that had gotten them here, there sure wasn’t much motivation left in him but one thing: Amy.

Seeing Amy. Talking to Amy. Apologising to Amy. Admiring Amy. Touching Amy. Loving Amy, someday when that word seemed rational. Anything with Amy, he wanted it and would go to great lengths to earn it.

That, all that, he hoped, would be enough to mend them again someday hopefully soon.

#Jake and Amy #peraltiago #jake x amy #peraltiago fanfiction #multichapter #fanfiction #jake peralta #Amy santiago #Santiago #peralta #ao3 #Brooklyn Nine-Nine #b99 #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #romance #jake #amy

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stxn-the-mxn · 5 years

Text

Alone Time || 2019!Bill Denbrough X Reader

IT CHAPTER 2 SPOILERS

! blood, death, mentions of rape !

He couldn’t believe he forgot about her. Of all the things about Derry, he forgot, why did it have to be her. He knew there was something holding him back from marrying Audra and later breaking up with her.

There was always something in the back of his head, yelling at him, telling him to hold back. And now he knew, it had been her the whole time. That voice in his head, his subconscious… they were all her.

When they passed by her at the Chinese restaurant, he paid her no mind, trying to get out of their as quick as possible, especially after Richie lost his shit at some poor child. He hadn’t even realised it had been her.

***

Back in 1990, she had been his everything. It was a while after Beverly had left, and he could feel his feelings for her dispersing quickly. In time, he would find every second of the day was taken up with thoughts of her.

He was disappointed in himself for never having noticed her before. She was in literally all of his classes. Every single one, and yet he never paid her any attention. He had mentally slapped himself after that discovery.

After that summer, Bill didn’t really hang out with the Losers Club as often. Every now and again he would talk to Stan, maybe Eddie or Richie. Ben and Mike were a different story. Bill never seemed to see them anymore.

So, he turned to her for a new best friend. At lunch, he joined her at the table she sat at by herself usually. She smiled at the boy, and Bill swore his heart skipped a couple of beats. After that day, they seemed to be spending days on end with each other.

Later that year, the school decided to put on a play. The most basic school play, Romeo & Juliet. The week before auditions, Bill had discovered Y/N’s love for Shakespeare. She had been talking about it non-stop since the announcement was made.

“Y-yknow, you s-s-should audition for J-Juliet.”

She had choked on her juice, staring at Bill, waiting for him to laugh it off. It had to have been a joke, after all.

“I’m s-s-serious, Y/N/N. You’re a g-great actress. Look, if y-y-you audition, I will t-too.”

Bill regretted that promise. He wasn’t ready to play Romeo and was most definitely not prepared to kiss you on stage in front of everyone. But he was ready to admit that he loved you, truly he did.

You had believed him. He said he loved you. He said that he wanted to be with you forever.

And then he left Derry.

***

How could he have forgotten his Juliet? He could feel the kisses on his lips again, her hands tangled in his hair. He could feel everything he felt for her, just like he did before he left Derry. Had Y/N left Derry?

He wasn’t sure, but he sure as hell wanted to know. He would search this damn town top to bottom if it meant finding you again. But first, he wanted to pass by somewhere that meant a shit ton to him.

He pedalled up to his old house, and he was surprised to see it hadn’t been changed one bit. It was the same colour, just freshly painted. He glanced up at the top window that used to be his bedroom and saw a woman in the window.

She seemed familiar, and the second they locked eyes, it didn’t feel awkward. It felt right. He watched as the woman ran downstairs. The door swung open, and the woman ran out to Bill.

“Bill, holy shit, it’s you! You’re right in front of me, breathing and everything oh my god.”

He knew it was her. He knew immediately. How could he not? All these years later, and she still had the same smile.

“Y-yeah, yeah it’s m-me. You h-h-haven’t changed. And you live in my old home?”

She chuckled, and it sounded like music to Bill. Her smile was the same, except the silver braces were gone. He examined her face. She had more noticeable freckles, her glasses gone, likely being replaced with contacts.

She was still the Y/N he was utterly in love with.

“What can I say? I missed you, this was the closest I could be to you.”

“Mom? Sewer guy?”

Both adults whipped around to meet the small kid with his skateboard. Bill’s jaw dropped, as he stared at the kid he had yelled at only an hour ago. It was just his luck, wasn’t it? He and Richie had both yelled at this poor kid, only to find out he belonged to the love of his life.

“You know Dean?”

Y/N questioned, pure confusion in her voice. How on earth did Bill know her own son? Bill didn’t answer, just staring between Dean and Y/N.

“Bill? Come in, we need to talk. Dean, don’t stay out too late, I need you back from the fair at least 10 pm.”

Dean skated off, staring at Bill weirdly as he passed him. Bill watched the kid go, his eyes darting between Y/N and skateboard kid.

“Fuck,” he thought “that probably means she’s married.”

Sensing that Bill was in a state of mild shock, Y/N sighed and dragged him inside. The floor plan was still the same as when he had lived there. Georgie’s old room now belonged to Dean. His old room was now occupied by Y/N and her husband.

They sat down on the bed, closer than Bill expected for a married woman.

“I’m not married.” Y/N seemed to read Bill’s mind. He glanced at her hands to find, to his joy, not a single gold band in sight.

“Well, where’d D-Dean come f-f-from then?” Bill had genuine curiosity in his voice, as he glanced at a photo of Y/N and Dean. he couldn’t help but smile at how happy they were. He had to ask about Dean’s father, but he didn’t want to come across as pushy or nosey. He failed that last part.

“He, uh, he never had a father. It’s always been just me and him.” She was holding back the truth. He needed to be nosey and pushy. He didn’t feel like he had any other choice.

“Y/N, even after 27 y-years, I k-know when you’re not t-t-telling me the truth. You d-do the thing with your h-h-hands.”

She looked down, seeing her right ring finger tapping her thigh. He really remembered everything after all those years.

“Dean… he wasn’t a child of consent. That’s all I want to say on the matter.” Y/N’s words were quick and sharp. Bill could tell she was touchy about the subject. Who wouldn’t be? Silence fell over the room.

Bill held her tightly, as her sobs broke the silence. It was painful, seeing the woman he loved break like this. She had always been the second strongest woman he knew, as no woman would ever be as strong as Beverly Marsh, and that was fact, not opinion.

“I remember when Dean first asked about his dad. I told him he was off in California, writing stories and making movies that he wasn’t allowed to read or see yet.” Y/N laughed softly as she saw Bill’s dumbstruck expression. He still seemed to be processing it all, but that didn’t stop her from continuing.

“He had smiled, yelling that his daddy was famous while jumping in circles. I never had the heart to tell him the truth. I still don’t think I could.”

“So, what y-you’re telling m-m-me… is that y-y-your son thinks I-I’m his dad?”

She had looked down awkwardly, mentally calling herself stupid for bringing that up. Bill probably thought she was insane at this point.

“Maybe… maybe he n-n-needs a dad. One who’s a-actually around.”

“W-what?”

Bill pressed his lips against hers, those 27 years of lost emotions rushing into this one kiss. It was messy, rushed, somewhat chaotic. It was everything the both of them had wanted. It was perfect and beautiful and everything in between.

***

Bill, Ben and Beverly surrounded Eddie as they stared at the hole in his cheek where Henry Bower’s switchblade had been. Everyone was in a panic, not knowing what to do when someone gets stabbed through the face.

While Bill was also worried for Eddie, his mind was elsewhere. Specifically, his mind was on her. The voices of Ben and Bev and Eddie’s painful moans dissolved as Bill saw a skateboard roll over to them. It looked identical to Dean’s.

Bev noticed it too. Blood trailed upwards. It was floating.

They flipped the board over, and Bill’s knees buckled.

Guess he couldn’t cut it either.

“I have to go.”

He ran, ignoring Silver and Bev’s calls for him to wait. He couldn’t let Dean get hurt. He couldn’t let Y/N get hurt. The fair was quite the distance from the Inn, but he ran the whole way. Dean wasn’t safe, no child was in this devil town.

The screams, happy screams, of kids and neon lights signalled his destination was extremely close. As he turned the corner, he immediately scanned the crowds for the mop of curly blonde hair.

Like a hitman finding his target, his eyes closed in on Dean L/N. He had made it time. Dean was there, breathing, all limbs attached. Bill continued sprinting. Dean was running with his friends towards the funhouse.

“Kid! Dean! Stop!” His pleas were useless as Dean ran through the spinning walkway. Bill stumbled across the walkway, feeling dizzy.

The next hallway was filled with swinging clowns. Dean must have already made it through. A clown slammed him into the wall, but he got back up and ran, only being hit by one more stuffed clown.

“Oh, you can not be serious?”

Bill faced the mirror maze, his head spinning. He didn’t stop to get his bearing though, sprinting through the maze, running into almost every mirror. He turned the corner successfully and saw the blonde boy up ahead.

“Kid!” He yelled, running at full speed, before cracking his head against another mirror.

“Kid?” He looked around, feeling his surroundings. It wasn’t possible. Not in some attraction designed for kids.

He was completely surrounded by those fucking mirrors. He continued to feel around, eventually finding an open passage. Bill stumbled through more hallways, this time avoiding running into anything.

Around another corner was Dean, walking idly. He ran towards the kid again but found himself stuck behind another barrier of mirrors. He shouldn’t have been shocked, running into mirrors in the mirror maze.

Spinning around, he saw him again. Dean was at the end of the hallway, staring through the mirrors. Bill ran, for the millionth time that day, calling out for Dean. and, for the millionth time that day, he found himself trapped behind a wall of glass.

Dean spun around at the thump on the glass. He stared at the man who seemed to be following him around this town and had been hugging his mom not that long ago. Bill clutched his face in pain, muttering “shit” not so quietly.

“K-kid! Hey, hey!” Bill smiled, and Dean backed away.

“What are you doing here?”

“H-h-hey, I-I’m here to help,” Bill said, and Dean scrunched up his face in annoyance.

“Stop following me!”

“I’m gonna, I’m g-gonna get you o-out of here.” Bill walked backwards, and as his eyes drifted down past Dean, he seemed to freeze.

Dean followed his gaze, his breath catching in his throat as he saw the creature staring them down.

Pennywise The Dancing Clown stared at the two of them, trailing his tongue up the glass. He had hunger in his eyes as he watched Dean’s every move.

“No.” Bill pleaded. Pennywise moved up the glass, his tongue still licking the glass. Dean didn’t move, frozen in place.

“P-please..” Bill felt helpless.

Pennywise stared at Dean, who was shaking. Bill realised he was shaking too, as strong as he always made himself seem. The fucking clown smiled creepily at Dean, the poor boy crying and trembling.

Neither Dean nor Bill could say anything, both standing in silence as Pennywise reared IT’s head, before hitting it on the glass.

IT laughed at their fearful silence, the only other sound being Dean’s wavering breaths. IT smashed its head on the glass, harder this time, and Bill responded by pounding on the glass. Dean backed away, straight into the glass Bill was on the other side of.

IT repeatedly smashed its head on the glass, not holding back. Bill did the same, only with his fists. Dean yelped in fear, each cry a spear through Bill’s heart. The clown was relentless, never holding back as its head came in contact with the glass.

Dean was crying, and Bill felt tears welling up too. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. But it was, and it was a real as the fear pounding through their bodies.

The glass was cracking, Dean was screaming, and Bill was trying, but to no avail. IT slammed its head faster, more aggressive. Dean turned to Bill who was punching the glass. He knew he couldn’t do anything, but he didn’t want to believe it.

Two pieces of glass separated Dean from either safety or… something else.

Bill moved to kick the glass, but it still remained intact. The other piece of glass did not. Dean’s screams echo through Bill’s mind, and they motivate him to try harder, to be stronger. He tries everything. Kicking, punching, pushing against it, all while looking into Dean’s fearful eyes. The same eyes he would have to look into after this. The same eyes that would fill with uncontrollable tears.

IT stops. But the glass is one tiny hit away from shattering. ITs face contorts, the horrifying smile it displays burning into Dean’s memories. Bill and Dean breathe heavily, and Pennywise can smell their fear.

IT rears its head back, before smashing it through the glass. Razor-sharp teeth slash out, latching onto Dean, who is still screaming.

A gruesome blood splatter signifies Bill’s failure.

***

The incident had happened two days ago. In those two days, Bill had never felt more enraged. That anger, however, had been one of the keys to defeating IT. But as the Losers left the sewers, hauling an injured but living Eddie with great difficulty, the anger wasted away, and the sadness took its place.

He didn’t know how to tell her. He now knew how his parents felt, the day they had to tell him of Georgie’s fate. He felt so utterly useless. He had walked to her house, not ever wanting to arrive.

On the slow travel to the house of death and despair, Bill had contemplated how he would tell her. Nothing seemed right. He knew he needed the other Losers by his side if he was ever going to make it through.

Once the six of them had made it to your doorstep and rung the doorbell, Bill had broken down. And that’s how Y/N found them all, huddled around a sobbing Bill. They had all immediately noticed the tears in her own eyes.

“B-Bill?”

She brought them all inside, making each one a cup of coffee or tea. They sat in silence, waiting for someone to say something. No one spoke, Bill and Y/N simply let out quiet sobs every now and again. An hour after, and a few coffee/tea refills later, Bill finally spoke up.

“Y-Y/N. Can we g-g-go upstairs?’

Bill held the woman close to him as they made their way upstairs. They both froze outside Dean’s old room, and Bill made the move to push her next door.

“What happened to Dean? Why did he never come home, Bill?”

Bill knew that deep down, she knew the answer to that. Not the specifics, of course. But he knew that Y/N could not have ignored the signs, like the missing posters that only seemed to be around when he was.

“Y/N, h-h-he’s gone.”

She couldn’t do this anymore. Bill held the sobbing woman, and he knew the other five Losers downstairs could hear everything. Her crying eventually brought the other five upstairs, one by one.

It reminded them of 1989 after they first defeated IT, when Bill had found Georgie’s yellow raincoat. Bill made the connection too, which hurt even more. They all found their tears dotting each other's clothes as they hugged the woman that they had not met until an hour ago.

“I… I think I need some time alone.” She mumbled, and the Losers left her room. Bill was about to leave when she pulled him into a kiss. It was like the one he shared with Beverly all those years ago; a farewell kiss.

***

It had been more of a farewell than Bill hoped. Not even two months after he left Derry for the second time did he receive the letter. It was addressed to him, from an address he didn’t know.

Opening the letter, he immediately recognized her handwriting. It hadn’t changed since high school. The note was short.

I’m sorry. I tried to be strong, I really did. I couldn’t do it without you and Dean. And I feel so selfish for doing this, and I don’t want you to be mad. It was best for everyone. I promise I’ll see you again, but as I said that horrible night, I need some time alone.

Yours forever, Y/N L/N

Dropping the envelope, another piece of paper came flying out. He didn’t want to, but he had to pick it up. Turning it over, he wanted to believe he was back in Derry, and this was just some cruel trick that clown was playing on him.

But it wasn’t. He wasn’t in Derry. If he was, maybe it would’ve changed things. It would’ve for sure stopped him from receiving the letter he currently held in his hand.

Celebrating a life well lived

Y/N M/N L/N

Loving mother, daughter and friend

1976-2016

***

@chipoisaloser

#bill denbrough #bill denbrough x reader #it #it x reader #it chpater 2 #it chapter 2 x reader #it 2019 #it 2019 x reader

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