𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ 🎃་༘

Dr. Lecter's office is a bit cluttered. It always is. Not messy. Just cluttered. It makes you feel even more uneasy. You could tell from the slight tilt of his head that he didn't understand where you're coming from, why you're so upset at yourself.

You did everything you could to ever gain forgiveness for your past wrong doings, you tried for even the small ones. You forgave yourself and acknowledged that some of your past situations weren't your fault. Still... the anxieties continues. Like a knife tapping against your ribs, a drowning feeling in your lungs, a dropping of your heart, and a heat from panic that you can't make go away.

Guilt persists.

You don't know why or how to fix it. You just want it to go away. Objectively, you know you're a good person, but that ringing in the back of your head whispers that guilt on repeat in your quietest moments.

Speaking of quiet, the silence has dragged on for a while. You stare into space while Dr. Lecter watches you almost unblinking.

You take a deep breath and finally find your voice. "I'm not making any sense, am I?"

"You make perfect sense, child. I simply can't comprehend how someone so sweet can see themselves in such a cruel light." He tells you without missing a beat.

"It's not that I don't know that I'm a good person... I know I do good things, but I feel like a- a..."

"It's all a lie you tell yourself to feel better." He answers for you.

Your heart seizes and your eyes grow wet far too quickly making you feel embarrassed.

"I can tell you now it is not a lie. You are in fact a good person."

"But how do you know that?" You ask shakily. "I mean, you're my therapist but I don't tell you everything."

He tilts his head a little, kind of like before, just a small quirk most people miss. "Even if you do not tell me everything I know you quite well. Every time you have ever done something even remotely wrong you express remorse and do your best to remedy what you have done. That is proof enough."

You remain silent, hearing him say it feels nice but you still hold doubt.

His expression becomes stern. "Do not doubt me, dear."

"I'm not trying to." You whisper out.

"Tell me," He leans forward in his seat. "Have you thought more about our conversation from your last session?"

He changes the subject so quickly and easily that you're caught off guard, unable to stay on your previous course of the conversation.

"I have." You murmur.

You remember that conversation clearly. Age regression. A psychological oddity where a person mentally reverts back to a younger state of mind. Something that could be both involuntary and voluntary. Something that could be used as a coping mechanism.

Something that you already do. Something you're still hesitant to tell Dr. Lecter that you already do despite him recommending you try it.

He calls out your name gentle but stern. "Focus on me, not your thoughts."

Your eyes land on him and you can see a small, minute, smile grace his lips.

"Good. Now did you try it?"

Emotions scrape at your chest like a saw. "I'm sorry." You choke out.

He remains silent, waiting for you to elaborate, blue eyes watching you intensely.

"I shoulda told you when you recommended it, but I was too embarrassed, and now I'm even more embarrassed, and I'm so sorry, but I already do regress sometimes by choice sometimes not, and I get really small, and I know it's not something to be embarrassed by but I am, and I just didn't know how to say it, and-" Before you can finish your rushed out, rambled, apology and explanation he interrupts.

His voice is soothing. "It's alright, little one."

Your words die in your throat.

"I recommended it because you already acted as a regressor would. I do appreciate that you've told me the truth. I'm very proud of you."

"How can you be proud! I lied!" You cry out.

Tears start to dribble down your cheeks.

"By omission. Yes, you did. However, you came clean and told me the truth almost immediately, pushing aside your fear in order to do so." He says quiet and almost... fatherly.

You rub at your wet cheeks. "Don't- don't talk like that."

Dr. Lecter stands and kneels in front of you. "Like what, little one? Like I care? Because I certainly do."

"You- you can't just..." Your words trail to nothing. You don't know what to say.

You clench your fists and screw your eyes closed as you feel that unwilling slipping in your mind. Not now, you think, just not now.

"It's okay. You're safe, child. You're doing so well." Dr. Lecter encourages.

Your quiet tears turn into loud sobs. "No! No! 'm not doin good! 'm bad!"

He hardens just a bit and takes your hands. "Do not let your anxieties lie to you. You are a very good child." He pulls you down and into his arms.

He rocks you softly side to side, ignoring how you try to push him away. He hushes you softly and whispers gentle affirmations to you.

"Such a good baby." He coos ever so quiet.

"I'm so proud of you, little one." He murmurs against your hair.

"That's it, let it out." He rubs your back.

"Such a brave little lamb." He holds you closer.

"You're safe here." He reassures.

When you calm down he continues to speak soft but steady. "Can you tell me how little you feel?" He questions.

You stiffen and let out a whine, hiding your face in his chest.

"I see."

Dr. Lecter scoops you up and sits with you in his armchair. He continues his soft rocking motion as he cradles you close. He pulls out a pacifier from somewhere you don't even see. Carefully he offers it to you, ensuring you take to it. Once you do he smiles a bit to himself.

Having these two not only as caregivers but also as parental yanderes you can only dream about being treated like a fully functional adult ever again. In their eyes you are a small baby who depends on them.

No don't even think you can find a way to escape either of them, they are extremely prepared for any kind of situation you throw at them.

"Well well, what do we have here? Would you look at that Will, our darling was trying to escape..how cute."

Infantilization from both of them but showcased in different ways: Will could be described as more overbearing, you're basically a glass doll ok his eyes, constantly checking up on you, doing everything for you; Hannibal is far more condescending, often getting teased with embarrassing comments and remarks on how you're just a baby.

They both expect you to act like their baby, don't think even about being bratty or behaving like an adult. They are not above punishment to remind you that you're just a kid.

Though never physical punishment, neither of them enjoy hurting you, they both prefer much more psychological punishment.

"So, did someone learn their lesson? Or do Papa and Dada need to give you another punishment to remind you of your place?"

They also condone drugging you to keep you all nice and obedient, it just makes you so much more docile in their opinion.

Your papa Hannibal is a psychiatrist, so what does this mean? It means he knows exactly how to properly manipulate and coerce you into behaving and doing exactly what he wants. The fun part is that you probably won't even notice you fell for his tricks.

Both of your dads think your hours of playtime are extra important. They both encourage you to play games "appropriate for your age".

They set up a playmat just for you; during playtime hours one, if not both, of your caregivers sits next to you. They both like to place you in their lap, watching you play while talking to you with an infantilizing voice.

"Oh comon baby, don't pout. Oh, would you look here! It's Mr. Snuggles, don't you want to play with him?"

Both of your caregivers are incredibly obsessed with you so you best believe there's nothing you can do to make them stop loving you. After all you're stuck with them for life, they can't let their baby go around and get hurt.