0ceansoftime
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Will Byers’ boyfriend is obsessed with H. Lee Remik, a reclusive novelist and poet who has reportedly had writer’s block for the last five years. When an unpublished manuscript winds up at Will's door, Will becomes entangled in the mystery of uncovering the identity of the elusive writer - a journey that unexpectedly brings him to cross paths again with Mike Wheeler.
Or: Will falls in love with Mike’s words. Mike finds himself in competition with his own pseudonym.
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“I don’t think that I belong in the world. I feel like a stranger so much of the time. There’s something that divides me, something I don’t understand, but it’s always been there.”
Or: Will Byers is stalked by an ancient presence that seeks to destroy the quaint town of Hawkins in its pursuit of him. A Will Byers-centric, gothic inspired S5 rewrite
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“You never said anything?” Michael whispers. He knows the answer before Will even speaks.
“How could I? What difference would it have made?”
All the difference in the world, Michael thinks, but he understands that isn’t what Will means. The watchful eyes of Michael’s order and of the gods would have made it impossible for anything beyond the lines of camaraderie to flourish between them.
In the dark stairwell, pressing up against the wall and away from beam of silvery moonlight, Michael leans his head down to the delicate shell of Will’s ear and whispers:
“The eyes don’t reach here, do they?”
Or: Sir Michael and Will the Wise find themselves breaking oaths and making promises
Recent bookmarks
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ever get the feeling that you're never all alone? by falloutboi for Wheeee, glossyjm
Fandoms: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
02 Jun 2026
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Anyways, the point is, Will thinks, that maybe his ghost roommate has escalated from small pranks and is actually now watching Will. Will supposes that's fine, but he does think that maybe it's a little perverted of the ghost to watch Will masturbate. Will trudges back into the house to wash his hands in the kitchen, crinkling his nose. He probably should be more upset about having a perverted ghost roommate, but sue him, he's lonely (and kind of horny).
Will dries his hands off on an old dish towel and resigns himself to spending the rest of the afternoon on the couch, lounging around and flipping through channels on the staticky box TV.
Maybe his perverted ghost roommate likes The X-Files too.
In which Will thinks that his house is haunted (and he's right).
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Will smiled back, soft and sweet, like he always was. It was, all in all, the same smile Mike had grown up knowing as well as his own reflection. It was Will's teeth peeking through the slight pull of his chapped lips, and Will's skin wrinkling near his eyes. Mike would know Will's smile anywhere.
Only, that wasn't his smile.
Because that wasn't Will.
"Follow me?" Will asked, and one yellow ray of sunlight punctured the fog, illuminating the tufts of his mud-spattered hair like a halo. It was fitting. If the rest of the town thought Will was the devil, he'd always been an angel to Mike.
And for the life of him, Mike couldn’t remember what it was he’d been so worried about just a second ago.
"Yeah," he answered, treading behind Will and headed for the woods. "Always."
It's the summer of 1987, the town is under lockdown, the people are panicking and praying, and they've pinpointed Will as the one to blame for it all. In fact, nearly everyone seems a little afraid of Will these days, except for Mike.
(Or: Following a desperate ritual to cast the devil out of Hawkins, Will starts acting strangely. Mike starts having dreams.)
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Will Byers is possessed. Again. But this time it's coming for him fast and hard, and it's not something they can just force out by poking him with a fire iron; he needs a different form of release, and Mike Wheeler has been waiting.
It's El that answers for Will, and for every truth that she utters everything begins to click into place.
"Will would need someone to help him."
And there it finally is, the undeniable truth: Someone needs to fuck Will through it. It doesn't land like a sucker punch to the gut that would have left him winded like Mike had expected. Instead, the fact consumes him like a sudden blast of cold wind, eliciting a tingle in his skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake to travel from his arms up to his shoulders and to his nape, at the back of his ears. He feels it settle in his scalp like a hundred pinpricks from a needle.
"I'll do it."
Mike signs his death sentence in three words. He finds it hard to regret—even poor bastards due for the executioner's block are granted their last meal, after all.
Or: byler Fuck Or Die, wherein mike has to exorcise will by fucking the possession out of him as it is actively ongoing.
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“And why come back when so many are leaving Hawkins?”
Will slowed without meaning to. The leaves under his shoes crackled. “I–”
What should he tell this stranger that wouldn’t reveal the fact that his sister had superpowers and might actually be the only key to save this entire town from a monstrous maniac?
“Well, everyone I know is here,” he murmured. “I couldn’t… just leave them.”
The man hummed softly, then he lifted his head to scan over the woods, a faint whistle came from his lips, before his gaze landed onto Will again.
“Maybe something here wanted you back.”
Or, a
fix-it ficmodern-gothic take on Will Byers' story in Season 5 .Series
- Part 1 of @burntsepia's fics collection
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“Hungry,” is all Mike manages to get out. Will can hear each ragged breath scuttle up and down his chest. He squints at Mike, the boy refusing to break eye contact, staring intently at Will. The emptiness from this morning is back.
Will scoots up in bed and shimmies out of his blanket cocoon, placing his hands on the sides of Mike’s arms. “Are you feeling sick?” he questions gently. Something’s not right.
Mike shakes his head and once again, opens his mouth with a brief pause before speaking. “I’m so hungry, Will.”
Mike gets a little too into the occult. After a ritual-gone-wrong, Will has to piece together a decades-old mystery to save his best friend's life.