Whitney Dol - Tumblr Posts

Silent Confessions

[CW- themes of self hate, cursing/swearing, it’s sfw but mildly suggestive] Boyfriend Whitney x GN PC

His eyes opened by a fraction, blue orbs adjusting to the street light filtering in through the window in the small, stuffy room. He blinked rapidly, as if only now remembering how he ended up here. Whitney gently shifted in the small creaky bed, the worse for wear sheets covering your half naked body rode down with his movements.

You whined a little, flailing your arms around in an attempt to pull the boy closer, further entangling your limbs, under the sheets.

“Stop moving” you mumbled nosing along the crook of his neck. The sound of his steady pulse against your face gave you a sense of security, and a feeling of familiarity. A feeling that you were growing dangerously attached to, “l’m cold” you managed to whisper. Even half asleep you could practically see, no, feel him roll his eyes.

“You’re getting way too comfortable with me, aren’t you little one… ordering me around now, huh?” he murmured as he shifted in the cramped space, easily scooping you up and placing you atop him, as he pulled the old blanket over both of your forms. Despite his rough tone, his hands were gentle, like always. His chin came to rest on your head, strong arms holding your waist like a lifeline, and you found yourself unconsciously matching your breathing with his, secretly loving the way both of your chests touched when they rose and fell in tandem.

A beat of silence passed. Both of you said nothing, just listened to the sound of your combined breathing dancing in the dark. Whitney rubbed soothing circles on your back, slender fingers inching down to find the words written in black permanent marker near your left hip.

A small frown creased his forehead. His blue eyes caught the words emblazoned on your skin, reflected into the mirror of the dilapidated armoire. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he kept staring at the reflection transfixed.

He saw the way your legs wrapped around his waist, how your head rested on his chest, and those damned words that he himself wrote, sat there on your body, mocking him.It was all too intimate, and suddenly he regretted letting his guard down. Regretted letting you drag him to this dump of a place.

It was somewhere he had sworn not to enter. He had been here with his lackeys before. But he never stayed long. Those fleeting glimpses into your life were enough to sate his curiosity. Of this weird fixation he held about you. He hated that he was almost obsessed about knowing what you did after school, where you lived, whom you hung out with.

But when you finally humored his stupid request and took him to your crusty old orphanage, that small shy smile you wore when you showed him your bedroom, tore at his heart in a way that he simply couldn’t comprehend. He felt nauseated at the idea of defiling you in a place you felt safe in. Promising to himself that he will not ruin this little haven that you called home.

Yet here he was bathing in the after effects of his selfish decisions. No he wasn’t selfish. He was downright greedy. Eagerly taking everything that you so naively offered. That’s how your relationship had always been. Him taking incessantly and you giving immeasurably.

He heaved out a shuddering breath, willing his eyes to move from the reflection. He looked around the small quarters in a desperate attempt to divert his thoughts away from the dangerous chasm that they were leading him to.

You will never be enough for them

He clenched his eyes shut trying to drown out the annoying voice.

They are too kind for a pathetic human like you. You will simply drag them down.

“Shut.Up” he ground out, his grip tightening unconsciously around you. You winced in your sleep and Whitney blanched. He instantly loosened his grip and pressed a soft kiss to your hair as a silent apology.

He could hear the birds chirrup in the distance. Cold air found its way through a draft in the window to tickle his skin. The dawn was approaching. He gently rolled over and placed you in the centre of the bed, carefully tucking you in as he slipped out of the covers silently.

Despite his solemn mood, a small smile crept up his face at the beautifully disheveled state you presented. Hair all mussed up, lips swollen legs sticking out from underneath his white shirt that covered your chest. Unable to stop himself he leaned down and caught your lips in a soft kiss, tasting those feathery dreams that he dared not see with open eyes.

He roved a hand though his blond hair, moving the fringe aside to get a good look at your face.

“So trusting. Letting your guard down around me” he laughed bitterly. Unbidden his eyes flitted to the words on your left hip and he looked away quickly before he started thinking too deeply about it.

It was an impulse. Yes. That’s exactly what it was. You both were intoxicated and he was so lost in the way you pleasured him, that he simply didn’t think before he wrote.

He stood to his full height and walked towards the door of the small room. He better slip out before that shady bitch Bailey found him.

Hovering a little by the door, he hesitated before stalking to your desk and grabbing a sheet of paper. “Screw it” he whispered taking a pen and quickly scribbling a note before he could talk himself out of it.

“You can keep the shirt. It looks better on you ;)”

He folded the small note and placed it beside your head, proudly sauntering outside your room shirtless. He didn’t look back, as he left you slumbering. Leaving nothing but his shirt and the words behind that he was too afraid to say to you.

And surely, you were in for a surprise when you would wake up and see “I love you” resting on your hip in his messy penmanship instead of the usual “Whitney’s toy”

Whitney Theory Time

[CW- talks about mental health, child neglect, random character analysis and unnecessary deep diving into little details (lol)]

I went down a little rabbit hole pertaining to Whitney’s oral fixation. I have known that when something is brought attention to constantly during any story, then it’s not a simple coincidence. I feel like (how Sydney said in the library) that Whitney has a lot going on. And it’s probably not good. I feel like their back story will be very angsty and sad.

So as someone who has studied psychology for a while, I found this…and I feel like I hit the nail on the head (for those morbidly curious like me this is Freud’s theory on oral fixation…and yeah don’t judge me for going all Freudian analysis on Whitney/silly)

So chances of our Whit being a neglected child are very high. But from their general appearance in the game (m!whitney wearing a blazer and f!whitney wearing a long school skirt. Both items are on the costlier side in game) I feel like they come from a well off family? the general hate towards the privileged people they hold, points to either them living a life of privilege but they are so miserable they want to escape? (Tbh their whole schtick sometimes gives rich kid doing all kinds of weird stuff trying to get attention from their absentee parents trope)

Or maybe used to be a part of a well off family? I feel like they are not being able to cope with the sudden change in their lifestyle if this is the case. Thus are trying to sell this fearless image of themselves.

And Is it just me or do you find it weird too that although Whitney is sent to detention Leighton almost never does anything to Whitney besides scolding? I feel like they do come from a powerful background. Otherwise why would all these lackeys follow them around?! And they own a phone to top it all off. I know all the other NNPCs have a phone too but amongst the LIs only Whitney (and Avery) owns a phone?!

The lowkey neurotic and manic tendencies they have towards PC also screams of separation anxiety. (Ahem collection of stuff toys?) For example, them needing to control PC at all times. Their love stat going high only when PC willingly chooses to act on their every whimsical/cruel wishes, them wanting to tattoo their name on PCs face of all places, not being able to be more open/ vulnerable with PC because they feel that PC might leave them.

And their dismissal event also shows just how much their image matters to them, and why they crave to be in control. This is yet another trait they share with Avery, when on low dominance, you can see how humiliated they get whenever PC fights back with them. Add insecurity about looks on top and viola, you have some deep childhood issues (I love complex fully fleshed characters so much)

Also the not being sufficiently fed during nursing part (I’m referring to the picture above) makes me think that the Headcanon about their parents being divorced and maybe their mom moving out at a very young age, seems like a possibility. Hence Whitney not being able to withstand emotional cheating seems like a result of that (I’m just spitballing here…)

So yeah. Thank you for coming to my Ted talk. I feel good after hyperfixating about a fictional character.

[Bonus Angst Headcanon] I like to imagine, if it indeed turns out that Whitney lives in some mansion with their dad, and their mom left when they were young, why do I get a feeling that their mom left them/ said goodbye to them near the water fountain on a rainy day. Them just staring into the fountain with a solemn mood, feels like there is a definite reason behind it. Or maybe they used to come to the fountain and make wishes with their mom? (Yes I like to torture myself with sad thoughts)

𝑫𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑳𝒆𝒘𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕-

𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚢 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢-

Silent confessions

Whitney Theory time

𝙹𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜𝚝-

Jordan's Corruption

𝙺𝚢𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚛-

The butterfly effect

𝙱𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚛-

Smoke and Mirrors

I need an angst fanfic of Kylar from DoL… Please? 🥺🥺

The Butterfly Effect

Kylar the loner writing request

Word count-1118 [CW- mentions of anxiety, and implied panic attack. Themes of hopelessness and angst. One-sided love]

It had been raining that day. Not the usual downcast marring the sky—no— pleasant breeze ruffled Kylar’s dark hair, making his keen emerald eyes peek through like twin jewels, as he glanced up at the sky.

Spring rain’s drizzle had lightly sprayed his pale skin as he trudged the shabby alleys of Domus street. It had been purely out of sheer boredom that Kylar had decided to take a longer route to the park only to somehow wind up lost.

He had halted in his tracks. Slender fingers had come to grip upon the hilt of the blade resting at his hip, tucked under the rumpling fabric of his oversized hoodie. His eyes sharply bounced in every direction as he figured out his way again. Really, one could never be cautious enough in that town.

His short legs had hurried along the narrow path, his skittish gait attracted several gazes. Kylar had felt a crippling wave of anxiety crawl long his spine under the many scrutinous eyes sizing him up. His movements had become urgent. Escaping from what? He didn’t know. And just when his heart had felt like it’d burst right through his chest, he saw you.

His tiny frame was shaking. Hands came to rest on his knees as he bent over, stopping, catching his labored breaths. Just then a cottonesque cloud shifted overhead, letting a sliver of sunlight paint your cheeks and he stared mesmerized.

Dressed in clothes not much shabbier than his, but wearing a smile not even the finest of riches could afford, there you were, watering away the colorful plants, lining the depressing gray walls of the orphanage.

Shining under the natural spotlight of the sun, that seemed partial to only you that day. You seemed to be so engrossed in a conversation with a boy, who was around your age, one hand holding the hose and the other gently guiding the spray of water over the various flora.

A lone butterfly had fluttered over to you, and mischievously perched atop your head, earning a peal of giggles from you and your companion.

All his earlier anxiety forgotten, Kylar had been unaware of a small smile slowly inching up his lips. He had stared, almost marveled at the way the butterfly hovered around you, as if it had found the most beautiful flower in the garden.

And surely, Kylar had agreed wholeheartedly. His heart beat in tandem with each flap of the butterfly’s wings.

Flap…thump Flap…thump

And just like that, he had fallen in love. 

He shouldn’t have…He Mustn’t have.

***

The sharp blare of the school bell broke him out of his reverie. With jerky movements, Kylar forced his desperate eyes away from your form and packed his belongings back into his rucksack.

He was quick. He had to be because he knew what was coming next. Teeth nibbling away at the flaky skin on his chapped bottom lip, he discreetly skirted around the crowds and crowds of sweaty students in the hallway. 

 Footsteps light as a feline’s he followed you to the park, your personal shadow. It wasn’t simply an urge anymore for Kylar. It had transformed into a need. 

He needed to watch you. Needed to keep you safe. From the lecherous eyes and hands of those creeps in the streets. And sometimes even yourself. For you didn’t know what was good for you. Or who for that matter.

The sky was grim, reflecting the inner turmoil that scratched and sank its claws in his ever declining psyche. 

Hands balled into fists at his sides, Kylar braved the first few drops of rain that wet his cheeks and gazed owlishly upon you, from behind the bark of a tree.

Nails digging crimson crescents on his palm, he watched your expression melt into a sweet smile as you approached the intimidating figure standing in front of a fountain holding an umbrella.

Kylar’s hand involuntarily reached for the handle of the umbrella peeking out of his rucksack, as he saw the blonde man, roughly pull you closer under the shade of his umbrella, neatly tucking you by his side, like some prized possession. 

Kylar’s heart clenched at the wistful words that died on his tongue. 

“We co-could’ve sh-shared this umbrella” he whispered to no one in particular 

The winds slowed down. The park was empty save for the couple standing statuesque in front of the fountain. A halo of smoke surrounded them like an invisible fortress. 

The humid atmosphere suddenly weighed heavy on his chest, when Kylar saw the bully ever so slightly lean in towards you.

‘What was it that you saw in him?

He was nothing but a bully, shoving you around, embarrassing you, using you like a pet and OH GOD KYLAR CAN BE SO MUCH BETTER AND—‘

A loud thunder, masked the deafening sound of Kylar’s heart breaking into a million pieces. He watched on, soaked to the bone and numb as your lips met Whitney’s over and over in a wild, passionate kiss.

‘My love would never…they do-don’t like it. Yes theydon’ttheycan’ttheysimplycannot’, the words rattled a mile a minute, stumbling around Kylar’s brain as he stared at Whitney sacrilege his God like a horrified devout.

But nothing could ever describe the pain that shot through him, when your small hand reached up and cupped the bully’s face, pulling him closer as you welcomed his intrusive kisses.

It was like Kylar never existed. The world could’ve ceased at that moment and you simply wouldn’t have noticed. So lost in his embrace. So keen for his touches. So in Lo—

Unable to take it anymore, his jealous green eyes flitted away in a flash of anger. Trying to focus on anything but that last thought.

Unbidden, the twin jewels zeroed in on a butterfly, hovering around a flower. It desperately flapped its wings, struggling against the harsh winds and the iresome pour of the rain.

It gently touched, and cradled the petals, fluttering about the flower as if in a pathetic attempt to grab its attention. The flower stood pretty and proud. Unfazed by the lovesick being, fulfilling its pilgrimage at her altar.

A few more frantic flaps, and the butterfly finally perched atop his lover. Kissing her lips, as the last scales of color shed from its wings.

With a cold blow of the wind, it fell, lifeless wings crumbled and lay still on the ground. The sky rumbled in the distance, the flower ever in its beauteous glory swayed like it was just another day. ‘So this is what it means to fall in love’, Kylar mused with a bitter laugh, suddenly very grateful for the rain as he let the tears fall freely down his cheeks. Without a glance back, he ran, homebound.