─there are monsters in hawkins . . . #𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐜 . . . an independent, exclusive and private roleplay interpretation of holly wheeler as originated in netflix’s stranger things . . . they like to eat kids like me! lost by reign.

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@clehric
─there are monsters in hawkins . . . #𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐜 . . . an independent, exclusive and private roleplay interpretation of holly wheeler as originated in netflix’s stranger things . . . they like to eat kids like me! lost by reign.
i will still be writing holly but i will be moving her to my multi once i remake it :)
i haven't abandoned holly! i swears it, x
lowkey i feel like holly has some unhinged behaviour in her
i think holly deserves to say fuck
sorry i went mia! i am still here and writing holly i promise, just trying to get through things i owe on my multi first but i'll sprinkle some replies in here too <3
smooth. easy. unbothered. it's the kind of off - script acting that had put the ACADEMY AWARD in the hands of meryl streep & katherine hepburn in the last decade; a performance you would have to see to believe. unfortunately for her chances, her kids have this funny way of finding the lie; like movie critics coming up on their rent paycheck, they could pick her apart into pieces, extract the tiniest flaw in her act and use the crack to see right through to the very inside of her.
it's the gentlest touch that the tiniest wheeler places on her wrist, further connecting her to the VERY REAL, MATERIAL WORLD around them. she wonders, sometimes, what had made her kids so sweet. they were kind, infinitely so, and at times uncharacteristically unselfish for children . . . and brave, she thinks.
karen had stood there in holly's care bear slippers before: a child watching her parents suffer from something she couldn't quite explain. alice had not been so courageous as to stare it down with such a reverent kindness . . . to embrace it. for all the credit the smallest wheelers seemed to give her, she felt none of it had been earned. not when they were all their own kinds of heroes.
as holly's protest begins to ring through the air, karen attempts to squash it, her voice a sort of coo as it tries to interrupt. ' HOLLY, ' she parrots it back to her in the same tone her youngest had used, and there was a sort of playfulness to it, meant to ease the tension that still seemed to permeate the air.
' really, baby. i'm fine— ' the gentle smile on her face seemed to morph, though, dark brows furrowing into hazel eyes that shone with a sudden sort of curiosity. she's interrupting herself now and abandoning her prior thought for a new one, head tilted as she asks, ' how did i do what ? '
_ hw / … there’s a moment of serenity- an EERIE CALMNESS that soothes the worry for her mother churning in holly’s gut. it’s almost spell-like, broken by clarity as she recalls his voice in the back of her mind. “sick, holls. not herself. be careful.” but what does she have to be careful for? IT’S HER MOTHER … that unsettled wary concern that can’t be wiped from her face quite as easily as karen’s panic had causes tension in her muscles, young girl’s body ridged and stiff in front of this ALMOST stranger. she swallows, her throat a little sore from sickness, her head a little light, she still has a small fever despite it breaking in the night.
is it her? is it holly seeing what the fever dreams create, nightmares bleeding into real life and twisting everything into something more, something worse, something scary?
NO. she knows what she saw, and what she heard. there is no hiding that or forgetting- that image of her mother on the bathroom floor will live on in her head ( UNTIL IT’S REPLACED BY HER MOTHER ON THE KITCHEN FLOOR INSTEAD ) and holly frowned, shaking her head. “you’re lying,” she accuses quietly, like she’s disappointed but at the same time, like she’s been shown the truth. maybe … maybe henry’s right.
holly wants to retreat- she wants to curl into her mom’s arms- she wants to run … she stands her ground, looking up into karen’s eyes and a chill runs down her spine, but she doesn’t know what that means yet. “you changed. just now! like you- kinda like you flipped a switch. like the light was OFF and now it’s ON- … how did you do that?” her voice starts strong but it cracks and she swallows, pausing, her voice a little softer by the time she asks again.
i am still here! just super active on my multi right now and i work full time so i only have so many fries to give this happy meal ☺️ please feel free to send memes or im me to plot etc
i know now what i always knew !
independent, very private + very selective karen wheeler of the duffer brothers' + netflix's stranger things. totally divergent, canon noncompliant and plot based.
i don't belong here, how 'bout you ?
if i trialled writing iconless here, would anyone be opposed?
she doesn't like lying. she can't. so she finds a way to skirt around the lie with what she knows believes to be the truth. "it's for my friend," she tells her teacher when she asks why holly's taken to collecting drawings from her classmates- THAT'S NOT A LIE. henry is her friend. and he promised that he would keep her safe- not just holly though. her family too. and her other friends. even if not all of the kids in her grade are her best friends- she likes them enough to protect them from the monsters henry says lie in shadows, WAITING. pulling each paper out of her bag, she laid them out on the ground in front of her. she's sitting on the step between the wheeler house and their front yard, her feet together and her chest to her knees as she places each one down on the footpath- "this one's mary's, she's my best friend. we've been in the same class since pre-k." each drawing gets a little introduction, and holly looks up as she's pointing to the names scrawled in the corners. her eyes are wide but there's a smile curving her mouth upward as she waits for his verdict.
— ... FIRSTLICH : we make a pretty good team! / the dusty toybox
that smile grows, proud and pleased at a job well done. "thanks! i think so too." she pats at the stoop beside her for henry to sit too- she's not so SHY as she used to be when she was little ... well, littler. another handful of papers come out of her school bag and are left to flutter done onto the ground with mary's- "i got 'em all, like you asked- i know you said you can only save a few at a time, but you will save everyone, right?" hopeful, trusting eyes turn on henry- half her life she's known him- no one else sees him like holly, but she also knows that's intentional. there's a reason WHY. "you know- you're kinda like mrs whatsit in my book," also retrieved from her bag and held up to like show and tell. "except- mister." young blonde shrugs, laying her book with a page dog eared on her lap, her fingers curled around the spine to keep it there.
holly falls into a comfortable silence now, looking down at her book, then the drawings, and then up to glance across her front yard and the street she's lived on her whole life ... "henry?" she asks, breaking that STILL QUIET and turning her head to the side to look up at him, her own tilting a little to the left. "what about my family? my parents- and nancy, mike ... i don't want the monsters to get them either."
please send memes to start an interaction! just a reminder, this is a sideblog to my multi-muse so i cannot follow you back from here but you are welcome to interact regardless- we do not have to be mutuals.
the thought of holly making henry play with her when she was little is sending me
just popping this here because i just said it to frankie- in my writing, sometimes i have holly correct herself from calling henry, henry, to calling him vecna. even in her head. it often looks like henry- vecna. and that's because she's reminding herself that henry was a lie, vecna was the monster all along. in my canon, i have it that henry had been targeting holly since '83. watching her, and eventually, interacting with her. mainly, manipulating her. that's four years of trust forged and built over the course of her childhood. she truly did trust him and believe he wanted to protect her from monsters, that he wanted to keep her safe. now, she'll catch herself still calling him henry but calling him that feels wrong. so she'll correct herself and call him vecna instead. but yeah, just a little thing i do often that'll maybe pop up in every other thread.
just adding on to this as well- she only starts calling him vecna after max calls him vecna. in my canon, holly is found by jane first and they attempt to escape camazotz together before she’s ripped back just as jane realises they’re still in the void. after this is when she finds max. the whole time holly is with jane, they call him henry.
i just watched the clip again of holly hearing karen and ted argue before she's crying on her bed and- like, i understand both parents' point of views. holly talking to a stranger ( that no one else can see ) is super concerning, so i get karen. but also from the perspective of everything is normal monsters aren't real, i also understand ted maybe not taking it as seriously or shrugging it off like it's nothing. maybe he even said that she'll grow out of it. and him not wanting to talk to karen because she was drinking is also very valid. like as much shit as i put on the man, he's just a guy providing for his family and existing normally. too bad he dies.
the light of reality exposed every inch of her. harsh, unwelcome, blinding as she stepped inside a realm that forgot her existence. well… buried it. janessa drifted in the vale of shadows, where time suspended like a broken clock. the air, thick with a pungent, metallic odour, clung to brittle bones; it felt like she brought the poison back with her. she carried the sharp sting of decay, remnants destroying any fragments of hope. stuck in a prison and mausoleum, a place of endless stasis, hollow as the crumbling ruins of a false hawkins, the very town which both took and gave everything. BUT THERE WAS SOMEONE WHO NEVER DARED GIVE UP ON HER. they were always formed, on the horizon, a dream within a dream that she saw but couldn't touch. until a flicker of sunlight pierced through eternal twilight.
standing beyond the rippling threshold was a girl. a delicate, ethereal figure who should not have come to this home of nightmares. a star was forged by her hand, faint, yet burned with promise. the fabric of that forsaken place forever disturbed, as if the universe itself stretched its limbs and sighed⸺ FORCED TO RELEASE ITS PRISONER, RETURNED TO A LIFE OUT OF REACH.
the world hadn't waited, it never did, but holly wheeler had. she pushed away eager, well-meant welcomes⸺ a tad suffocating for jane's state. recollection is fuzzy: the time between a teenager pushing her brother, sister, friends back, ordering space; the time between jane climbing a staircase under karen's graceful guidance to help prepare a shower... TO NOW. when she emerges ( twenty minutes later ) her skin is pink, blisters already sprouting from the near boiling water. she won't look in the mirror. after another half hour, she drapes the provided dressing gown around shivering flesh. she makes no announcement that she's finished in the bathroom, merely trudges to holly's room, and waits.
when her saviour returns, the door is shut immediately, granting much needed privacy. the mage sits cross legged in the center of the bed, gnawing at raw cuticles. she opens her mouth to speak, when @clehric interjects: “ YOU DON'T HAVE TO TALK, ” and lowers herself beside jane. throbbing chest tightens, emotions threatening to break. she can't explain it: the agony of feeling, of being human again. instead, she lunges forward without warning, arms thrown around holly's neck. she squeezes. hard. it's an awkward position, but she only holds it for a minute, breathing in the sweet scent of holly's hair, before pulling back, forcing hands into her lap to stop picking.
“ thank you. ” jane whispers so softly, that one needs to strain to hear. “ i⸺ ” a careful breath is pulled in, and she feels fourteen again, counting back from five to gather clarity, to calm down. ( when were you fourteen ? ) intended words become scattered pieces of something she once knew how to use, lost in the black hole of confusion. she was trapped in the dark, and because of holly, freedom clings to her in all shapes and sizes. HOW ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO EXPRESS SUCH GRATITUDE? she seemed too small for this moment / the youngest wheeler an anchor, but she doesn't know how to hold on. “ i do not know what to say. ” jane laughs suddenly, still in disbelief. then, it hits her. she reaches out, laying a flat palm upon the side of holly's head, checking. “ you are okay ? not hurt ? head is not sore ? ”
ENOUGH! word pushed through exhaustion to clamour from her throat as her own hands push through the gathering. understanding grapples with ire, holly's years of unknowing clashing with their years of remembering- all their WHAT IF's come to fruition when she walked hand in hand back into the world from a version of it, flipped. they all talk at once and the adrenaline that courses through her veins starts to wane when holly, fed up with the chaos, yells. "hey! shut up!" the room falls silent and she meets her mother's eyes ( she always knows what her kid's need without having to ask ) before she turns to a once believed dead girl and she ushers her up the stairs. "i'll be up soon," she assures, insists, nodding along as karen slips passed holly with a caress of her hand to the back of her shoulder and keeps jane STEADY as they climb out of the basement. holly exhaled. she's so tired.
it takes far longer than she's happy with for the crowd to disperse. some agree to come back tomorrow, reluctance in their voice but UNWILLING to argue with a girl that just crossed dimensions- a wheeler, at that. others won't stray further than the threshold of the front door, taken to sit comfortably in the living room with untouched refreshments her mother laid out before ... her brother sits on the stairs leading up to the bedrooms- but that doesn't IRK holly. she lets him be, because now that she remembers, she understands.
her bones are weary, her muscles ache- the last time she felt this tired was in '87 ... not again, since. her mother's descending and they cross paths on the stairs. holly walks into karen's open arms and wraps her own around her waist. her eyes close as she tucks her head in to slender ( SCARRED ) neck and she exhales slowly, releasing a breath she didn't realise she'd been holding. "is she okay?" she mumbles quietly, even though she knows there's no real answer. karen tries anyway. "she will be." it's enough for holly to nod again, extracting from her mother's comforting embrace to trot the rest of the way upstairs- she feels a number of eyes on her back until she disappears from view ... they can wait.
the shower drips as she passes the bathroom, steam still wafting in from under the door- holly doesn't hesitate ( she does knock, but she doesn't wait ) before she's retreating to her bedroom. jane sits on her bed, hair still dripping but dried at the ends, and holly lets out a huffed breath of relief. fending off THE MASSES had taken a while and the almost eighteen year old had had enough. had they always been like that? is that what jane was used to, before? had anyone just let her breathe? when her eyes meet jane's, holly smiles. a proper, true smile because ... holy crap, she's here. she's REAL and she's HERE and holly let herself sink back against the door for a second before she's crossing the room. she sits on the edge of her bed, one leg curled up underneath her. and when she tells jane there's no obligation on her to speak, holly just gets her arms up in time to catch the formerly years older girl. it's almost a mirror image to holly and karen on the stairs- so she tries to offer the same kind've comfort, but she's not sure if she succeeds as well as her mom.
holly shifted to sit cross-legged on the bed as jane gathers herself, watching quietly but NOT expectantly, waiting for her. "i suppose i wouldn't either," she says with a small shrug- because it's true. she's almost taken aback by the sudden touch, not by the concern, and holly just shakes her head. "i'm okay- tired, a little sore, maybe a headache ... but i'm okay. no biggie." she doesn't pay attention to the smallest trickle of blood just visible from her nose. she wipes it away with the back of her hand. "feel any better?" now that jane's showered, and had more than a minute to herself in a world unravaged. "you can stay here, if you like- we can share, or i can go sleep with mom tonight. i don't mind either way."
just popping this here because i just said it to frankie- in my writing, sometimes i have holly correct herself from calling henry, henry, to calling him vecna. even in her head. it often looks like henry- vecna. and that's because she's reminding herself that henry was a lie, vecna was the monster all along. in my canon, i have it that henry had been targeting holly since '83. watching her, and eventually, interacting with her. mainly, manipulating her. that's four years of trust forged and built over the course of her childhood. she truly did trust him and believe he wanted to protect her from monsters, that he wanted to keep her safe. now, she'll catch herself still calling him henry but calling him that feels wrong. so she'll correct herself and call him vecna instead. but yeah, just a little thing i do often that'll maybe pop up in every other thread.