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starbylers · 4 months

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This is a response to the person who sent me an ask about their doubt last week, just hiding it below incase people don’t want to see that :)

For context this is an in-depth explanation of:

Why Mike’s monologue had to happen

Hi! And yeah of course I can try. I fully understand why the monologue is throwing you off and as someone who doesn’t believe Mike was consciously lying you’ve come to the right place lol. I explained a little more about why I think that in the tags here if you wanted to read more about that perspective. I’ll probably link to a few other posts in this aswell because it ties into a lot of stuff I’ve made Byler analyses about before.

So the thing you said about his arc being ‘does he love her or not?’ is what I think is causing the issue, because that isn’t Mike’s arc. You’re right in that that’s the question that is being posed to the audience at face value, but that’s not his character journey. I have a long post about this here but essentially, the core driving force of a character cannot be another person—Mike needs to, and does, have his own personal inner conflicts which the Byler perspective provides (pressure to perform being grown up which is made incredibly obvious to us in s3, and dealing with the tumultuous process of figuring out that he is not straight in s4—I personally don’t think he’s there yet though, I think the full realisation of why he’s been having all these problems with Will & El is still to come).

The perspective of ‘yes he does’ love her just because he said the words is the crux of the entire plot twist, because it’s the conclusion people inevitably come to when they don’t pay attention to the details. (I don’t mean this insultingly at all btw! The whole thing is very subtle and easy to misinterpret). And ST is all about details, something which has been told to us by the creators and is also obvious in their use of foreshadowing/hinting/referencing in all aspects of the show, not just Byler.

Mike’s arc didn’t finish a season early. This has even been told to us i.e. by David talking about how s5 will pay off big characters including Mike, and Finn himself saying Mike still has a ‘journey’ to complete, and also just the fact that we don’t have the final season means no-one’s arcs are complete because the story isn’t complete. The fact that a “love confession” occurred at the midpoint (s4/5 are basically intended as two halves of one story—post explaining this here) is what makes it extremely obvious that Mlvn is not the conclusion of this tale.

The monologue can probably be said to have many purposes, but here are the main ones to me:

It presents a solution that ultimately ends in disaster, and associates that disaster with Mike and El’s romance. The monologue is so, so important in showing that Mike and El’s love did not, could not save the day. That it wasn’t strong enough—further proof from the script here. It shows that El got what she thought she wanted, only to discover it wasn’t what she really needed. It may have helped save her but it didn’t help her achieve her goals (save Max, kill Vecna). Kind of a metaphor for their entire relationship lol. It’s also supposed to show that not even an ‘I love you’ can fix their issues—they literally don’t speak afterwards. I’m not sure El’s fully processed all this yet, but figuring it out is what’s going to drive her arc towards self-actualisation and allow her to win next season.

It furthers the miscommunication plot between Mike and Will. It’s an indisputable fact that Will’s lie influenced that monologue. (We can tell just by watching but it’s also in the script if we needed even more proof lol. Not to mention: the track that plays behind it is You’re The Heart. The episode is called The Piggyback. Will’s face is right over Mike’s shoulder when he says ‘I love you’—Will is integral to and inseparable from that confession). That is so important, and something we’re supposed to notice. The whole point of the monologue is who’s really behind it (aka who’s really behind the painting & words that drove Mike’s speech), because this sets the stage for the Byler confrontation next season. It’s literally the Benverly poem plot from IT, something we know the Duffers have taken inspiration from.

If Mike hadn’t gone through with it, there would be no movement forward in the story, we’d enter s5 with exactly the same plot we just watched in s4—Mike trying to say he loves his girlfriend for the literal third season in a row. It’s boring, it’s not good entertainment. Mike finally saying it (and yet there still being problems between them & it occurring under questionable circumstances) pushes development in the narrative, sets up new conflict for the next season. Or, if Mlvn had decided to break up because of Mike not saying it in s4, that would’ve led to Byler becoming painfully obvious and ruining the twist they’ve been setting up for literal seasons. Everyone knows Will loves Mike, and if Mlvn broke up in that same season the entire audience would see the ending of the show coming from a mile away. Remember, Byler is being written as a plot twist. It’s very likely tied up with the supernatural plot too.

The content of the monologue itself is supposed to demonstrate precisely why Mlvn are finished, why they don’t work, and should raise people’s eyebrows about the legitimacy of Mike’s “confession”. Like you said…he remembered her t-shirt lol. It’s impersonal, nothing about why he loves her or what he loves about her; he literally, proveably, lies in it and anyone can verify that by watching s1; and he makes comparisons to superheroes which is the exact opposite of what El needs (her whole issue is thinking she’s either the monster or the superhero, when what she really needs is to stop thinking in such a binary, and learn to be El the teenage girl, the sister, the daughter, the friend, the human being, and find her power in that).

And something else they purposefully do this season is give us examples of other love confessions to contrast and show how ingenuine Mike’s really is: Jancy & Will (not my original post! I just expanded on op’s point).

Now as I said before I don’t think Mike intentionally lied. My opinion is that he knows deep down something is not right with their relationship and that he doesn’t feel how he should, but after Will’s speech and encouragement he choses to believe that he can love her, that he can be what she needs (except it’s not what she needs, it’s what Will needs lol). So not lying, but the monologue is basically a desperate attempt to a) grasp at straightness and b) save her life. He’s in denial, and also terrified of her dying. Very bad combo.

So yeah there’s my reasoning :) what you were saying about the potential of a familial ‘I love you’ is true, yeah it could’ve ended the plot line. But that’s the kind of thing that should be a conclusion to the entire story, something that occurs right before victory not disaster. Because then what would the implication be? That El’s family’s love isn’t enough for her to save the world?

And the way they will explain the monologue is so simple. It’s Will. It’s Will’s feelings that inspired Mike. All that needs to happen is for Mike to realise that, and the audience will realise it along with him. Mike: I only said that because of how much Will loves me? Audience: Oh! So he doesn’t actually love her! It’s Will, Will is who he’s meant to be with! It’s a classic ‘the person who was right in front of them all along’ trope. Once people understand that, it basically makes truly romantic interpretations of the monologue invalid.

I can’t say exactly how the ending will play out—I expect we’ll see the cracks in Mlvn shatter rapidly as s5 progresses, maybe more arguing/demonstration of their incompatibility or El asking Mike to say it to her face and he still can’t, Mike and Will simultaneously getting closer and it becoming increasingly obvious that Mike is in love—but I’m choosing to trust they’ll do it justice. Mike’s monologue is just a key turning point in the larger story.

Also just one last thing, you said he seems sincere and I do agree but I think it’s because his fear in that moment is extremely real, and there are truths within his monologue i.e. that he doesn’t want to lose her etc. so that’s where it’s coming from in my opinion :)

#byler #anti mileven #sorry anon I meant to respond earlier but this week got hectic with those leaks lol #anyway here you go <3 #this is very long btw but I wanted to cover all bases

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atherix · 1 year

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As promised the Etho story. It. It is way longer than I expected it to be. Also wow I made him so pathetic I love him.

The building is dark, darker than he ever expected; the walls groan as he presses against them, hiding in the shadows and behind old discarded boxes and, hopefully, away from the eyes of passing Vampires.

None of them seem to notice him, though whether that’s because he’s a master of stealth or because they’re all rushing around he isn’t quite sure. He likes to think it’s the former, at least.

(Cleo would scoff at that, saying it’s easier to miss the broadside of a barn than to not notice him with his shock of white hair.)

He crouches when someone walks too close to his hiding spot, peering out between the gaps of the long-abandoned shipping containers. He closes his right eye, letting red bleed across his vision; through the walls he can just barely make out movement and figures, flashing in various shades of blue against the reds of the world around him. It sends pain spiking through his head, down his spine, but he counts the figures in that room, satisfied to find there are only three of them.

Three. He can deal with three. He glances either way of the crates, watching as the figure passes down the hall and behind a new wall.

He blinks the red away from his vision, reality setting back into place, and scurries out of his hiding place. The door is a little to the right of where he thought it was- when everything is red it’s hard to know for certain where one object ends and the next begins- but only a small change to his trajectory is needed to send him vaulting through the door.

To his surprise the figures are crowded around something else. One looks up and he dives for a pile of wooden slats. Destroyed crates, if he had to wager a guess. One particularly tall pair of slats offers him a convenient corner to kneel out of sight in, and he closes his good eye once more, letting red overtake his vision once more.

He ignores the throbbing pain settling into the back of his head. This is important. He knows it is.

This could be the answer to everything.

“She’s coming!” someone calls, their voice echoing, and the three figures crowded in the corner disperse, and he thinks they turn to look at the door though like this he can only make out that they’ve moved.

Etho glances towards the door, secure in the knowledge that the slats block him from its sights, and follows a small group as they stalk up the hallways. There are five of them, three of them walking bent at the waist as if stuck in a perpetual bow; one walks with confidence and the remaining trails behind them.

The Lord, Etho knows; he remembers easily how so many of Cleo’s rescues act towards them when they first come to her. He remembers how they kneel, cowering at their feet. What he doesn’t know is if they’re Vampires or Thralls, or just Humans who have given up.

“My Lord,” one of the figures says- they sound young, no more than a teenager, and Etho grits his teeth, “I swear I can do this. You can count on me! I will deliver them to you!”

“No,” the Lord says, voice sharp, and Etho recognizes that voice. Maria. “You will not deliver them to me. I have another task for you.”

Etho follows them with his eye, watching how the three bowing figures stop at the door and sink down to their knees- definitely Thralls, he thinks with a shudder. The other two step into the room and the three figures already there bow in greeting, standing up straight once the tall figure- Maria- waves them off.

“What do you need me to do, my Lord?” the young voice asks, eager.

“I need you to lead the traitor’s allies astray,” Maria says, and Etho frowns. Traitors. It isn’t hard to guess who she’s talking about.

(She’s still bitter, it seems.)

“Take them to the warehouse, where the Strays are,” Maria continues, and Etho thinks he can hear a smile in her voice. “Let them hear what they have to say, and let them report to Cleo and her lot.”

“You want me to lead them to the Strays?” the young Vampire repeats, slowly- hesitantly. “But what if they wipe them out?”

“I don’t care what happens to them,” Maria says flippantly. “They’ve started taking Turned as mates. You were an exception, dear niece; my sister loved you greatly, enough to want to keep you with her forever, as her... daughter. You are special.” It sounds as if the words pain her to say, disgust warring with the meaning of her words. The young Vampire doesn’t seem to notice, standing up straighter as if proud at the apparent acceptance. Etho bites his tongue. “You were chosen for this gift. But to take a Turned as a mate- it’s despicable. Disgusting. A mistake of the highest order, one your mother suffered from. The Strays have lost their way. If they die, why should we care? All they need to do is deliver the message, and then Cleo will come right to us, on our terms.”

“Of course, my Lord,” says the younger Vampire, voice full of awe. “You truly are the best Lord this Coven could have. Your plans-”

“Quiet,” Maria sharply cuts through, silencing her ‘niece.’ “Please, niece... call me Auntie.”

It’s sickening, the sugary sweet tone she takes. Etho can hear the lies coating the words, the disgust. Whoever this child is, or was... Etho wonders if Cleo would be able to help them, the way they had helped so many others.

“Yes, Auntie,” the young Vampire says reverently, and Etho tries not to judge them; this life is all they’ve ever known. He watches the shorter figure bow to Maria before turning and leaving. He follows it down the hall, thinking for a moment to intercept them; if he can stop them, then whoever they’re talking about won’t fall prey to their trap.

Cleo and BDubs won’t walk right into their trap.

“Brutes,” Maria says, a little loud, and the three figures behind her straighten up. “Get the rat.”

It takes Etho two and a half seconds too long to register her words, and by the time he realizes it’s too late; a pair of arms circle around his chest.

He thrashes, yelling to let go as he wriggles away. Colors flood his vision, temporarily blinding him as he opens his eye too soon, and pain flares up, burning in his skull.

He throws himself towards the open door but the Thralls sit there, husks of their former selves, and he stumbles when he recognizes one.

Barely, but he does. One of Cleo’s humans, now drained of everything that had made them human.

(He thinks of all the times he’s passed this human in the manor halls. They always greeted him brightly, happily, and was one of Cleo’s favorites. He never spoke to them, but he knew Cleo and BDubs would talk for hours with them; they had been Cleo’s most trusted human, the one who would go to the village in their stead and go to the markets, fetching everything the Coven could ever want. He didn’t even know how many times that person had brought him redstone at his request, even when he wasn’t home. They went missing months before, when Joe disappeared.

He doesn’t even know their name.)

His hesitation costs him; two bodies slam into him, shoving him to the ground. Etho yells and struggles, and when he looks up the Thrall stares at him blankly- empty, a smile stretched across their face. Skin grey and eyes dull and flat, nothing more than a skeleton with flesh pulled taut over the bones-

Now, he thinks he knows where Joe is.

“You know,” Maria says, walking towards him with a steady click click of the heels of her boots, “when most people sneak into a Vampire’s territory to spy, they at least try to disguise their scent.”

His scent. Etho could hit himself. How did he not think of his scent? Every single one of those Vampires knew he was there. He glares up at Maria, her platinum hair almost glowing in the dull moonlight filtering in through the dirty warehouse windows.

“Why drag this out, Maria?” he asks, grinning up at her from where he’s held against the floor. She kneels down, chin up even as she smirks down at him.

“I prefer Myrani these days,” she says, tilting her head, and Etho’s brow furrows. Myrani? That’s a Fae word, he knows- and not a very nice one. “It sounds so much better than Maria, doesn’t it?” She laughs, and Etho scowls; she knows.

“Why didn’t your lackeys attack me when I first got in here?” he demands, patience running out. He struggles against the Vampires holding him down.

Maria laughs. “Well, where would be the fun in that?” she asks, waving a hand. The Vampires- brutes, as Maria called them- pull him up to his knees, yanking his arms behind his back. He hisses in pain and snarls at them, his teeth sharpening under his gaiter, and Maria tsks at him. She grabs his chin, forcing him to look up at her.

She grins, showing off her fangs. There’s still a dull red tint to them and he grimaces. “No, you’re right where we want you, demon.”

“I’m not a demon,” he snaps, irritated. “You’ve made a big mistake, you know. Now I know where your Coven is-”

She laughs, not even a single moment for the words to sink in; she laughs, and the brutes behind him laugh with her. It’s verging on hysteria, tears pricking her eyes as she throws her head back and laughs, and Etho’s teeth clack painfully as his mouth slams shut.

He is clearly very, very wrong.

“You think this is where my Coven is?” Maria laughs, leaning closer to him with a twisted grin. “Oh, my dear, silly demon. This is just a safehouse. Besides, you won’t be bringing anyone here,” she adds, shoving his face back as she stands up again. He glares. “No, you’re going to do what I tell you, or you’re not leaving at all.”

“Wanna bet?” Etho scoffs, and he tugs at himself as hard as he can- like a thread unraveling he feels himself unravel, like a ball of yarn down a steep flight of stairs or an old raggedy dress coming undone at the seams, and he feels himself fall apart, the solid bones of his arms liquefying for just a moment before turning to mist. He pulls away from them, weightless and eternal, unsolid and uncatchable, as he fades into nothing more than mist.

He’s free. He’s free, he feels it in every fiber of his incorporeal being, sees it in the red and heat and chill that floods his vision, in the everything he can see around him, in the painless numbness that falls over his senseless form. He’s free.

And then he’s not.

He presses at the confines and struggles against it; he can’t see what is holding him, not like this. He’s surrounded and the world is dimming, dulling into a purple color- cooler, cooling, as if he’s surrounded by something cool, and it’s hard to see the moving figures on the other side as their cooler blues mix with the purple filling all angles of his vision.

He struggles. He pulls himself together again, enough to press semi-solid hands against glass, and he realizes-

He’s in a glass bottle.

They caught me in a glass bottle.

(He has never been so insulted before in his life.)

His world narrows, the room tilting as he blinks his eyes back into existence. When he can only see from those eyes once more he looks around wildly, looking for a way out. Everything presses in on his center core, his entire mass pressed into a form farm denser than any human form he has ever taken before, because he’s caught in an old wine bottle that glows dimly with magic.

The feeling of the enchanted glass sends a shiver down his arms. It isn’t right. It’s cold.

Magic isn’t meant to be cold.

“Like it?” Maria asks, grinning down at him, and Etho glowers up at her. He’s small- small enough to fit in this bottle, his entire being forced into it somehow. “I know a mage,” Maria adds, turning around with him still clutched in her hand. “Little demon in a bottle.”

Not a demon, he thinks again, pushing as much of his density against the glass as he can. It doesn’t even crack.

“Not even hard to do,” she giggles, the sound like ice down his back. He pulls his gaiter up higher, as if trying to hide in it. She throws herself down on a chair, as if it were a throne, and crosses one leg over the other, propping the bottle up on her knee. He steadies himself on his feet, feeling too heavy; all his weight, all his mass concentrated into one three-inch-tall form...

It’s not pleasant.

Maria leans on her hand, gazing down at him with a lazy grin. “Wasn’t too hard to bait you into it, either,” she says, spinning the bottle around. He stumbles, falling into the glass and bracing himself as she just keeps spinning him. “So, misty guy- may I call you Misty?”

“No!” he yells.

“Well, Misty,” she goes on, as if he didn’t answer at all, “I’m going to give you a choice.”

He glares at her.

She smirks back. “One, you work for me. You do what I tell you to do, you report to me, and I’ll spare your plucky little halfbreed.”

Anger flares up through his chest. “Don’t call him-”

She shakes the bottle, throwing him off of his feet. He lands heavily on the bottom and groans. “I wasn’t done. Do everything I tell you and I’ll spare the half Elf Vampire,” she continues, grinning as she watches him stagger back to his feet. “I’ll know if you don’t do it.”

He narrows his eyes at her, studying her expression. Confidence oozes off of her, as if she isn’t at all worried about him exposing her. Of course, if this isn’t even her Coven house, he supposes she doesn’t have to worry.

But how would she know? Actually- how does she even know about BDubs? He came around long after Maria was locked away. She never met him.

She never should have even known about him.

“I have eyes everywhere,” she says, chuckling lowly, and he silently curses her. “And ears.”

“... You planted a mole,” he mutters, cold realization settling in. There’s a traitor somewhere.

“I didn’t have to,” she says, picking the bottle up again and lightly shaking it. He braces himself, sliding down so he can’t fall again. It’s dizzying to be shaken like this, but if he becomes mist again he won’t be able to see her. To see her face. “There are Vampires everywhere who believe the truth, even amongst your Covens out there. They came to me.”

He doesn’t want to believe it. He lifts his chin. “No.”

“Here’s the deal,” she says, as if he hasn’t already refused. “You work for me, and report everything your snooping little Lord and her allies learn to me. You will feed them false information, you will deliver them to me when the time is right, and if you don’t I will find out. If you don’t, I will wipe out all of you.” She grins widely, showing off her fangs. They’re longer than they should be and Etho glares at her, refusing to back down. “And if you outright refuse, you’ll be stuck in this bottle and you’ll watch me rip your dear little mossy Elf apart bit. By. Bit.”

He swallows, trying to push away the images that force their way into his mind. “You can’t even drink Vampires’ blood,” he says.

“So? Doesn’t mean I won’t kill him,” she says, shrugging. “It’s your choice. Either save the Elf or watch them all die.”

He clenches his teeth. “You realize I’m one of Cleo’s mates, right?” he hisses. “I won’t betray them-”

The bottle slams into the arm of the chair, throwing him to the side roughly. “Don’t remind me!” she snarls, face twisting- and in that moment he sees her for the monster she really is, for just a fraction of a second her Human facade falling away. He takes it as a small victory.

She takes a deep breath, calming herself, and the shimmering scaly, amphibian-like skin fades back into tan. She holds the bottle up and leans back casually, smirking. “Let’s not lie to ourselves here, Misty,” she says, tone smooth as her truth is tucked away again. “Everyone has their favorites. Look me in the eyes and tell me, honestly, that you would choose Cleo over your Elf.”

He glares and says nothing.

“Oh, come on,” she cackles, bringing him closer to her face. “Would you choose to save her over him? Would she save you over that Human she keeps by her side? Don’t be ashamed to admit it. We all play favorites. It’s what it means to be alive- to love and love unequally.”

“No,” he denies. “Only people like you would look at it like that. I’m not like that.”

“You are,” she says sharply. “No matter what anyone says, we all are. We all have a child we would save over another, a mate we’ll go to over another, a parent we would confide in over the other. It’s just nature. We can’t help it.” She grins. “And I know you, Misty. They’ve told me all about you, how you come running every time he calls. How no one else can call on you the way he can. Even your Lord can’t keep tabs on you, but him? Oh, he calls your name and you’re there like a loyal dog. It’s disgusting, but... convenient.”

“You can’t even kill them,” Etho says stubbornly, not wanting to dwell on her words. The thought of BDubs in danger- him, bleeding out and turning to ashes or light- no, it’s just too much. He can’t stand it. “Cleo would never allow it. They’re stronger than you.”

She smirks. “And yet she didn’t kill me when she had the chance, did she,” Maria states more than asks. “And now here we are. Her Coven is thinning out. I have so many of her Humans that she let out of her sight, and I have you here now.” She turns the bottle around, forcing him to look at the doorway and the Thralls that sit there. “I have them. Loyal servants, eager to please. I have people everywhere. And I know their weaknesses.”

Etho slams a hand against the glass, frustrated. He can’t break through. He glances up at the cork. Maybe he can slip through its cracks...

“Cleo will be easy enough, once she’s out of her mind with anger. Not hard to do when she’s been betrayed and lost all her friends,” Maria says with a careless shrug. “And the Elf, well... there’s a few ways to deal with him.”

Etho narrows his eyes. “No,” he repeats, confident. “I refuse.”

“So you would rather watch them all die, than to save even just one of them?” She laughs. “Got it. It’s fine, I have other servants in Cleo’s Coven. They’re very good. It would just be easier with someone in the inner ring...” She shrugs. “You’ll just have to stay in this bottle, and I’ll be sure to let you watch the life fade from his eyes. Will he turn to light or ash? I’ve always wondered how it works,” she giggles, leaning closer to the bottle. “Haven’t you? Will you have anything left to bury or will he disappear like they all do, forever out of your reach? Not even anything to remember him by? Oh, I wonder, is his blood black or red? Does it glow green? I wonder if I can drink it when it’s glowing green. All that Fae magic over top the Vampire’s magic- I wonder if-”

“Shut up,” Etho barely whispers, trying not to imagine it- trying not to imagine BDubs in Maria’s grasp, glowing green blood running freely as she ripped into his skin. BDubs’ big rust-colored eyes staring at him, begging him to help- light splitting across his skin as his flesh turns grey, as he calls for help and-

He can’t stand it.

Maria smirks, and he bares his teeth at her- though she can’t see it. “There we go,” she says quietly, leaning back again. She holds the bottle by the neck, leaning on her arm as she gazes up at him. “Cleo will turn to ash as all Vampires do, but the Elf... who knows what’s waiting for him? And I’m giving you a chance to guarantee his safety, his life. All it will cost is your loyalty.”

His loyalty.

He’s known Cleo for so long, he was there when Maria was causing problems. He was there when things were different. He was there through it all, by Cleo’s side, supporting every change she made after taking over as Lord. He was there when she brought BDubs home.

How could he ever be loyal to someone else?

Especially Maria?

He grits his teeth. He can still see BDubs in his mind’s eye.

He can see BDubs looking at him, asking for help.

(He can see BDubs looking at him, blaming him.)

“You can save him or watch them all die. It’s your choice. You can have your freedom or be trapped forever.” Maria grins at him, dangerous, and he knows she has a plan either way.

Maybe if he agrees, he can find a way to warn them instead, without alerting Maria or her servants. Maybe he could save them all.

Or maybe he would doom them.

“It’s your choice.”

#Midnight Series #Hermitshipping #<- mentioned #Tumblr Exclusive #THIS GOT AWAY FROM ME OH MY GOD #I wrote this ALL today #anyway here you go <3 #Uh #Don't kill me?#Anyway I had fun writing Etho but I need more practice #I hope I got the balance of confidence to wet cat energy right

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