#will byers fic

[anonymousstrangerthongs]

I sti wanna wait for WiseTayr's approval because it was their idea in the first place, but I really am debating on making a separate blog to continue that Will Byers x Mickey Mouse fic. I have a month before classes start and I want something to do lmao

[notmybabies]

Y’all have to read Drowning In Living Waters by plumcrow on AO3 ASAP because the first chapter is so goddamn good it could be a standalone fic imho. If you like the thought of Will Byers having a steamy as hell secret relationship mixed with anguish and genuine connection, do yourself a favor and take a chance on this ByChance WIP.

It’s like WOW

[judectionary]

An excerpt of the fic I’m working on!! This is from the latest chapter :)) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/62965567/chapters/161245822)

—

His shield was strong in his grip, its metal reflective of the identity he put forward. It never faltered in its appearance, and if it did, he would repair it with his own skin if he had to. He would untangle the flesh stretched into tight knots of muscle around his bones, only to rope them around his shield. He’d hold himself together no matter the storms he’d have to trudge through, no matter the waves he’d have to hold his breath in. It was in his nature to do so, as his father had done, and his father, and his father as well. 

And yet, this shield—this mask—was lowered, but not completely surrendered, around Mike. 

He saw Mike’s questioning eyes, and Mike saw his as the shield unveiled them. Tension was sawed through with a weapon of trust and familiarity, leaving its blood to pool around their feet. The melancholy hidden behind the shield melted at the sight of hope. Its sorrowful songs evaporated into silence, a wind that passed without thought. A reaction from a connection, a hand coming out to graze the palm of another, its trembling fingers interlocking with the cold skin. 

Slow breathing that was pulled out of its lungs like a spider and its web. Melancholy couldn’t grasp the purpose of their identity before Hope, their thoughts nothing but a cacophony of confusion.

How could someone understand? How did Hope, of all people, understand? 

Because the truth is, in all aspects of reality, of the universe that engulfs us, hope is the only thing that can cause melancholy to shed its despair—its destructive tendencies.

Drunk on trust, belonging, and intimacy, laughter was exchanged between the two. The night fed on their love, using it as the energy to power its own home. It adorned the sky with its stars, bright and reflective of family. Family, a mixture of parents, brothers, sisters, friends, and lovers. People who understand one another, and can in any stressful circumstances.

[judectionary]

And the sorrows of love’s slow passing (Goodbye, Will)

—

Hii everyone,

I’ve been writing this fic for a while now and wanted to share it here!! 💗

It’s a post-s5 fic centered around Will and the spiraling decline of his mental health, as he believes that Vecna returned even though the evidence suggests otherwise.

It also explores his romantic relationships (Mike and some original/background characters—they aren’t that involved tbh) and familial ones (mostly with Lonnie and Jonathan, but there’s some stuff about Joyce, El, and Hopper too)

Here’s the link if you’re interested :) https://archiveofourown.org/works/62965567/chapters/161245822

And here’s an excerpt from one of the chapters:

“You’re fixing my computer?” The man finally asked, breaking the silence.

Will’s eyes flickered as he heard that voice. It carried words that had no special meaning, no weight, but the voice that they were said in was so familiar that it quickly grabbed his attention.

Will put on his glasses before turning to the man, his curiosity eating away at him. The few inhales of breath he drew in upon seeing the identity of the person standing before him almost suffocated him.

He froze, but this time not because of fear or trepidation, but because of recognition. A unique recognition that brought a great wave of nostalgia he almost perceived as hostile. He was being forced to confront his past feelings, and it was in the form of a human.

It was him—he was sure of it. The scar of age gave him soft wrinkles between his brows, but the wrinkles shrank into a smooth surface as he raised them. His eyes widened, appearing larger than they were.

Although the years that passed changed him—made him grow a stubble on his chin, made his unnoticeable acne scars disappear, made his eye bags sink deeper beneath his eyes—Will knew who was standing before him.

“Mike.” The name slipped through his lips softly while distant memories played in his mind like an old tape. It flickered as parts were skipped over due to their roots in hurt and aggression. Gaps revealed themselves as this intangible tape continued, stirring confusion in his chest. Were his eyelashes always that long, or did they grow over time? Did he gain some height, or did it remain the same as it was at 17?

They say that before death, the brain continues its function for a complete seven minutes after the body dies. It was most likely a myth—a whisper of a theory strategically placed in a story to aid a metaphor. However, even though his body was not close to being a corpse at all, it seemed that his brain resorted to that same, unimaginable theory, trying to prove it with all of its might.

A swing set, a D&D board, a digital watch, a painting—these sentiments quickly passed through his head, and he felt as if he was seeing them before his eyes. The scent of the acrylic paint he used for the painting, the scent of the blanket he tucked himself under in the basement. His past crushed his heart, squeezing it until the veins inside were bent into irreversible damage.

—

Kay thanks 😊

[shutuperce]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

so guess who’s back in the fic game (it’s me)

prologue & first chapter out now 

[booksandpaperss]

Me when the Duffer brothers make Will suffer in their writing: >:((((((

Me when I make Will suffer in my writing: >:))))))

[viktorpartner]

hiiii so, this is the continuation to my first fic ever "I think your house is haunted (but I still got love for you)" (and yes, that IS a Taylor Swift reference in a Byler fic, i am a basic bitch what can I say).

So anyway, go enjoy my VERY late update:

*throws the fic at you as if it were a bone and you a pack of rabid dogs who I love very much btw*

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[b0ysdontcry]

i need to know is there an audience for a long two-part will byers fic about his time in california and season 4 from his pov that's inspired by rebel robin, runaway max, lucas on the line, and the perks of being a wallflower and has lots of good music, queerness, and trauma? pls say yes because i am THIS close to writing it