#forced infantilization

You didn’t have any plans, honestly, but you also didn’t want to third wheel at a dinner with your psychiatrist and his husband.

But then again… life had been really hard, and you had no one else to turn to.

If you didn’t eat dinner with them, you’d probably just end up skipping it again.

“Yeah, I think I’m free,” you nod. 

“Perfect,” Hannibal smiles, “Why don’t you wait for me for just a minute? I’ll cancel my appointments for the rest of today, and we can go home.”

“Home?” you question. 

“I mean my home,” Hannibal clarifies. “However, my home is your home, darling.”

You shake off the uneasiness. He was just friendly. He was like this with all his patients.

“Would you like Mr. Bear as you wait?” he asks from his desk.

Mr. Bear was the “emotional support” stuffed animal he had introduced to you early on in your sessions. 

You would be lying if you said he didn’t help with your anxiety.

“Sure,” you accept graciously. “Thank you Dr. Lector.”

The bear stays in your arms as you wait. Thankfully, it’s less than 10 minutes before he’s done, hands guiding you over to his parked car.

Mr. Bear comes along, sitting neatly in your lap as Hannibal buckles you into the backseat.

“I can do it myself,” you say.

“Nonsense,” Hannibal assures you, “This car is a classic. You wouldn’t know how to.”

The ride to his house is quiet. Between the gentle buzzing of the engine and the soothing swaying of the car, you fall asleep.

You wake up on a couch, Mr. Bear still tucked between your arms.

Did Hannibal carry you here?

Speaking of Hannibal… it smelled phenomenal. 

“Hello little one,” a strange man speaks from beside you.

You nearly jump out of your skin.

“Ah please don’t be scared…” he comforts you awkwardly. “I’m WIll, Hannibal’s husband. It’s great to finally talk to you.”

“Oh, hi,” you smile sheepishly. “I’m [Name], Dr, Lector’s patient… I’m sorry to intrude, he invited me over for dinner.”

“Oh I know, I know,” Will smiles back. “We’ve been planning this for far too long.”

You hold a tense smile.

“Um, does Dr. Lector need help with dinner?” you ask politely.

“Oh no, he’s quite the chef,” Will says. “He actually gets quite upset if you were to help him with cooking. Besides, he should be just about finished right now.”

Will is right, because Hannibal is calling the both of you to dinner a minute later.

You sit at your seat, placed right across from Hannibal and Will.

“It smells wonderful. Thank you so much Dr. Lector and Mr. Will,” you say gratefully. 

“It is our pleasure to care for you,” Hannibal merely smiles. “Please enjoy.”

You happily dig in. The meat… it’s so different than anything you’ve ever had. It’s like a burst of flavor!

Maybe Hannibal should have been a chef instead of a psychiatrist. 

Will and Hannibal chuckle at that. 

Oops, did you say that outloud?

“S-sorry,” you stammer, embarrassed. “It’s very delicious.” 

“It makes me ecstatic you think so highly of my cooking,” Hannibal merely says. “You can have it every night.”

“Every night?” you laugh nervously. “I can’t come over every night, that’d be far too imposing.”

Huh… you felt kind of off now.

“What ever do you mean darling?” Will chimes in, “You live with us. We’re your parents.”

You’re starting to feel lightheaded now. 

What was going on? Your mind was racing. What was real and what was not?

“Pa-parents?” you question.

“Well, of course little one. I’m your father,” Hannibal nods. “Are you alright dear? You’ve been forgetting a lot lately…”

“Oh love, they must just be tired,” Will sighs, “My poor baby. Papa will make everything better. You just have to stop thinking. Let all those bad thoughts go. We’ll take care of everything else…”

You feel so tired after eating. You don’t know why. 

You’re so confused. Your head is spinning. 

Who are they?

Who are you?

You collapse.

Snapdragon is your coworker.

SYMBOLISM: Deception, presumption, graciousness, warding off evil (or in this case, "bad influences")

He's a bit of a gossip. He knows everything about everyone. He's charismatic and funny and always seems to know exactly what to say to get on someone's good side. He has a way of making people feel special and understood.

He takes an immediate shine to you. He seeks you out during lunch breaks, sits at your desk during downtime, and always finds a way to make you laugh.

Everyone seems to either love him or feel anxious around him.

You notice how he happens to coincidentally be wherever you are. If you're grabbing a coffee, he's there. If you're heading out for lunch, he's already on his way and asks to join. If you step outside to take a call, he's leaning against the wall nearby, smoking a cigarette.

At work, he covers for your mistakes, takes the blame for things that are partially your fault, and generally makes your life easier.

He learns everything about you. He "overhears" your conversations, sees things on your desk, notices your routines. He likes getting you gifts, pretending its no big deal to him, but inside he is crying from happiness when you act happy and appreciative.

Then, he starts pointing out flaws in others. Not in a malicious way, but in a concerned kind of way.

"Did you see the way Aster looked at you when you presented that idea? She's obviously jealous, kiddo. Watch out for her."

"Sorrel from accounting? He's a creep. I saw him looking at your social media profile. Don't worry, I took care of it."

"I wouldn't trust your friend Snowdrop. They just seem... off to me. Like they're taking advantage of your kindness."

He begins to create small, manageable problems for you that he can then swoop in and solve. He'll "accidentally" delete a file you were working on, only to have it recovered from a backup he conveniently made. He'll "forget" to pass on a message, causing you to miss a meeting, but he'll smooth it over with your boss for you.

He is your savior, your protector against the petty dramas and backstabbing coworkers of your office. He's the only one who truly has your back.

When you finally start to believe it, when you start turning to him first for everything, when you cancel plans with friends to hang out with him instead, that's when he decides you're ready.

The "accidents" outside of work begin.

Your car won't start, but oh, look, Snapdragon was just passing by and can give you a ride. A "stranger" tries to grab your bag, but Snapdragon is there to scare them off. You come home to find your window broken, but he's already there, having "just been in the neighborhood," and is boarding it up for you.

Each incident makes you more and more dependent on him. You stop going out without him. You stop talking to your other friends, who seem to cause nothing but trouble.

You let him move in "just for a little while" after your place gets broken into a second, more serious, time.

You live with him now. He makes all your meals. He drives you to and from work. He chooses your clothes, your food, your entertainment. He has removed all "bad" influences from your life.

He tells you it's for your own good. He tells you that the world is a dark, scary place, but with him, you're safe. He tells you he loves you more than anyone else ever could.

Sometimes he jokes about how he's like a dad to you, just so he can gauge your reaction. When you don't flinch or correct him anymore, he knows he's won.

You're so much happier now, aren't you? You don't have to worry about anything anymore. Just let him handle it. Just let him take care of you.

Dahlia is your boss.

SYMBOLISM: Elegance, inner strength, dignity, commitment, betrayal

She's old money. She's powerful, respected, and a little bit intimidating. Her office is on the top floor, with a view of the entire city.

She takes a special interest in you from the moment you're hired. She sees your potential. She wants to nurture it.

She starts by mentoring you, taking you under her wing. She invites you to galas and charity events, introducing you to influential people. She buys you expensive gifts.

"Just a little something," she says, as she hands you a diamond necklace or a vintage watch.

She criticizes everyone in your life, even your own family, in the most polite, backhanded way.

"That friend of yours... what's their name? Ah, yes. They're a bit... common for you, don't you think? You deserve better company."

"That man was your brother? My, my. He does seem to have a... rather unfortunate temper. I hope he's not like that with you."

She's especially passive-aggressive to your parents, if she ever meets them, especially if it's your mother or mother-figure. She can't stand the thought of there being another mother-figure in your life who holds any sort of sway over you.

She wants to be the only one.

She doesn't want to be your mother. As far as she's concerned, she is your mother. The biological one is an obstacle to be removed.

Slowly, she starts to manage your life. She'll "suggest" you break up with a partner she disapproves of. She'll "advise" you to cut ties with a friend she finds "unsuitable."

Her advice is always sound, always in your best interest.

One day, you come into work, and you find out you've been promoted. Shortly after you find this out, she says you should move into her penthouse to be closer to work and save money.

You protest, of course. But she's very, very persuasive. She points out all the flaws in your apartment, your neighborhood, your commute. She makes your old life sound squalid and chaotic.

And she does. Your new life is one of luxury and comfort. But it's also a gilded cage. She controls your finances, your social life, your career path. She has you quit your job to work as her personal assistant, a job with no real responsibilities but which keeps you by her side at all times.

The people in her social circle, the ones she introduced you to, all look at you with a strange pity. They know. They know what she's done. But they won't say anything. No one crosses Dahlia.

When you try to leave, when you finally realize the extent of her control and try to run back to your old life, you find it's gone.

Your friends won't return your calls. Your family says they're "disappointed" in you for throwing away such a wonderful opportunity. Your old job won't take you back. She's burned every bridge.

She finds you crying in your luxurious bedroom. She sits on the edge of your bed and holds you, stroking your hair.

"Oh, sweetheart," she croons. "Look what they've done to you. They've turned you against me. They were never good enough for you, not a single one. I'm all you have now. But that's okay. I'm enough. I'll always be enough for you."

Foxglove is your neighbor.

SYMBOLISM: Insincerity, healing, harm, two-sided nature

By rumor, you hear he recently lost his child. He certainly acts like a man haunted by grief. He keeps to himself, but if you cross paths, he'll give you a tired smile.

If you show him a single iota of kindness, he will latch on. He'll start leaving small gifts on your doorstep: flowers from his garden, a freshly baked pie, a book he thinks you'll like.

He doesn't know a lot about you, but he's a fast learner. He watches you. He learns your schedule, your favorite foods, the names of your friends. He learns what makes you laugh and what makes you cry.

He seems harmless enough. Just a lonely old man trying to fill the void in his life. You don't have the heart to push him away.

Then you get sick.

It's unlike anything you've ever experienced before. The doctors are baffled. You're weak, your body aches, you're plagued by dizzy spells. You're too exhausted to leave your bed most days.

But Foxglove is there. He's always there.

He cooks for you, bringing you nourishing soups and teas. He cleans your apartment. He sits by your bed and reads to you. He's the perfect caretaker.

He's the one who poisoned you.

It was slow at first. A sprinkle of something in your coffee, a leaf from his garden mixed into your salad. He knows his plants. He knows exactly which ones cause weakness and confusion, which ones mimic the symptoms of a hundred different diseases.

He needs to be needed. He needs to care for you. He needs you to be as helpless as a child, completely dependent on him for your every need.

It's also the perfect excuse to coax you to move in with him after it continues for months.

"You can't live here alone anymore, dear. What if something happens? I worry so."

He makes you a room that looks a bit too childish, but he doesn't comment on it unless you do.

"Do you not like it? I just thought... you need your rest."

He becomes even more overbearing. He chooses your clothes, he brushes your hair, he even tries to feed you himself sometimes. He treats you like you're made of glass.

If you try to resist, if you try to assert your independence, he just gets this sad, wounded look on his face.

"After all I've done for you... you want to leave? Don't you know I love you? You're all I have left."

It's emotional blackmail at its finest. He'll turn on the waterworks at the drop of a hat. He'll talk about his "lost child" and how you're the only thing that makes his life worth living.

And if he truly believes that his manipulation isn't getting to you, he just ups your dosage. Your "illness" will suddenly worsen. You'll be too weak to argue, too tired to fight.

You are his child now. He will nurse you back to health, even if he has to break you completely to do it. He'll make you love him, to need him as much as he needs you. He's already taken your health, your strength, and your home. Your will is next.

Begonia is an assassin.

SYMBOLISM: Caution, beware, dark thoughts

She was hired by someone you made mad, for some petty reason you don't even remember.

Begonia is used to the same kind of clients. She typically watches them and always finds some reason or another to hate them. That's how she gets the job done.

But she doesn't hate you. Not one bit. You're kind, you're considerate, you're funny. You're... good. A real rarity in her line of work. She's spent weeks following you, and she's grown… fond of you.

It wasn't even a feeling she thought she was capable of feeling for anyone, let alone a target.

She has a dilemma.

She's a professional. She has a reputation to uphold. What if someone else found out she couldn't bring herself to kill you?

Everyone would think she's gone soft.

But then she comes to a much more upsetting realization; if her client finds out she didn't finish the job, they'll just send someone else who won't hesitate.

The third realization is that she doesn't want to let you go from her watch. She thinks that one is the most horrifying one of all. She's grown a soft spot for you. She doesn't think that she could watch over you like a normal person could, she doesn't think she could do it without being so far away that she could no longer protect you.

By the last realization, she already thinks you're her little angel who can do no wrong. You're the only good thing about this awful world... specifically, you're the only good thing about her awful world.

She realizes she needs to save you. She kidnaps you and collects the money, and conjures up fake evidence to prove she finished the job.

When you come to, you're in a basement.

"Hey, kiddo," she casually greets, dressed in her usual dress shirt and slacks. "Sorry 'bout this. The basement, I mean. I was so busy with keeping you alive, I forgot to even have a room ready for you. Forgive Mom, okay? I'll have it all ready soon, it'll be much cozier than this place."

Your response, in her mind, is completely unreasonable: "are you gonna kill me?!"

"What? Silly goose, why would I do that?"

"You kidnapped me! And there's blood on the walls!"

She makes a cooing sound, kneeling down and cupping your face in her gloved hand. "Don't worry, munchkin. It's not yours. Mom's not gonna hurt a single hair on your precious head." She presses a dramatic kiss to your forehead, chuckling at her own lipstick stain on your forehead. "Now, lunch is ready. It might be a little burnt, your mom's not the best cook, FYI. It's a work in progress."

Once your room is ready, she takes you upstairs. She's surprisingly patient. She doesn't raise her voice. She doesn't get angry. She doesn't hurt you. But she also doesn't let you leave.

The locks on the doors and windows are more advanced than any standard ones you've ever seen.

She tries so hard to be a normal mom. She leaves notes in your lunch bag. She takes you on "vacations" to other countries to get you away from the house (all of which are just to other safehouses).

Since she has enough money to retire, she does just that.

The reason she did her dangerous line of work was because she had no one in her life she cared for.

Now that she has you, she went from not having anything to lose to having everything to lose.

And losing you is something she doesn't think she could survive.

Oleander is a loner.

SYMBOLISM: Beware, danger, death

You end up stranded at his house after your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere during a terrible thunderstorm. The closest house for miles is his.

He lets you in, but he's awkward. He stutters. He won't make eye contact. He's clearly not used to having guests.

You end up staying for a few days, because the storm is relentless and the roads are flooded.

You try to make conversation, to get to know him. He's hesitant at first, but he slowly opens up. He tells you about his hobbies, his favorite books, the little garden he tends to out back.

He's surprisingly sweet, once you get past the initial awkwardness. He's a good listener. He's thoughtful. He seems to genuinely enjoy your company.

He seems almost desperate for it, actually.

You notice, in the short amount of time you're there, how much he seems to light up when you talk to him. You also notice how he grits his teeth and grows quiet whenever you mention anyone from your old life.

When the roads are finally clear, you expect him to be happy for you.

Instead, he looks devastated.

He corners you by the door.

"Please don't go, kiddo." His voice cracks. "Please. I... I've never been this happy. Just stay. A little longer. Please?"

You have to refuse. You have a life, a job, friends.

And with that, something in him breaks.

The next thing you know, you're waking up on the floor of the living room, a splitting headache and a metallic taste in your mouth. Your phone is smashed, your car keys are gone, and the front door is locked tight.

He's kneeling beside you, looking frantic and terrified.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he's gasping. "I just couldn't let you leave. I can't go back to being alone again. I just can't. Please, forgive me. I'll be a good dad. I swear. I'll take care of you. Just give me a chance. Please, just give me a chance."

Unlike the others, he doesn't have a grand plan. He's clumsy and improvising every step of the way. He's a nervous wreck.

He's scared of you hating him, of you trying to escape, of you getting hurt. He hovers over you constantly, checking your temperature, making sure you're eating and drinking enough.

"Are you cold? Do you need another blanket?"

"Does your head still hurt? I can get you something for the pain. Please just... don't scream. I hate it when you scream. It breaks my heart, kiddo."

He buys you everything you could possibly want. He sets up a TV with all the streaming services, he buys you books and video games, he asks you what your favorite food is and learns to cook it perfectly.

He's trying to buy your affection, but it's not malicious. He's just a lost, lonely man who's convinced that he's the only one who can protect you. He's seen the news. He knows how horrible the world can be. Out there, you're a target. In here, you're safe.

But if you ever start seeking out the darkness of the outside world again... the news, the radio, anything that makes him feel like he isn't enough... he gets frantic. He'll take away the TV and radio.

"You don't need that stuff," he'll plead, his eyes wide with panic. "It's all poison. It just makes you want to leave. Don't you like it here? With me? I love you so much. Ain't that enough?"

When he's not panicking, he's surprisingly gentle. He'll read to you, he'll play games with you, he'll just sit in comfortable silence with you.

He's starved for affection, and you're the only one who can give it to him.

He wants to be your dad. He wants to tuck you in at night, to kiss your forehead, to tell you bedtime stories. He wants to see you smile and know that he's the one who put it there.

Robin was working on his computer, scrolling in social media and looking up all the information about you. Your social media was easy to find, you liked to post photos every time you went out with your friends, from the food, the restaurant and you and your friends.

Poor little thing, you were so careless. Not thinking about all the information you left out on the open for anyone to find, just a bit of scrolling and he felt he already knew a lot about you. 

You liked to go out with friends every Sunday to any popular restaurants that are in the city having some drinks once in a while. You were barely old enough to work, you shouldn’t be drinking!

In some of the photos you posted he also could see some little characters constantly appearing, a cute round thing that looked a bit childish but fitted you so well. It was a keychain here, a sticker there.

His favorite one was of a sleepover you had, your pajama pants had that little character stamped on them, and he could see a plushie of it in the background.

Robin liked that about you, how you didn't mind being loud about the things you enjoyed.

And when you get home he will make sure to get you all the little things you could want.

He saved every bit of info he found out about your likes and preferences for later, when his mind was clearer and he could go buy all the needed things to decorate your room.

Having your own room was a bit silly as he knew for a fact you would spend most of your time with him in the nest, but is the thought that counts

He had to hold himself back from looking deeper into your stuff, not only the silly public things, but your legal documents, medical records, academic records and the like that no normal person could just access. Nicolas made him promise that he wouldn't look into it himself, he wanted everything to be a surprise.

So he had to wait until their contact had everything ready to go

‐—--------

It was close to 2 weeks of waiting until finally they got the news that you were ready for pick up, which was surprising as they were expecting to maybe have to wait longer for you

He said that he needed a week to watch your routine and make an extraction plan to make your relocation as silent as they could. And once they had you they needed to flush your system from anything you were taking and plan any medical procedures you would need.

Sadly, Robin had just started his heat as they received the message, so now it was just NIcolas going to the compound where his friend kept his resources.

In the message his friend told him he had a surprise for him, so he had to be ready.

He entered the meeting room, prepared  to get the rundown on you

‐—--------

Nicolas got you un-strapped from the car, you looked down right angelic, being bundled in one of Robin’s sweaters that he scented before letting Nicolas go see you. You were nuzzling it in your sleep, the new drugs in your system keeping you calm and compliant.

Softly carrying you inside, giddy to let Robin see your sleepy form.

As he rumbled, smelling your warm milk scent mixing with his husband’s. His mind drifted to the meeting he had with his friend.

Normally the meetings were just to give the collected vital info and, depending on the objective of the “adoption”, legal papers that will give the adopting party more legal power over the adoptee.

In his case Nicolas was also expecting to get some options for medical procedures, to make sure you fit better into your place in their family.

That’s when he got the best news ever

His friend excitedly told him that none of it would be necessary, you truly were their little miracle, almost made for them. He revealed your medical history, your special condition and what they could expect from you

He even told him that seeing your medical tries they could also make you even more sensitive, seeing your old reaction to growth hormones it was more than likely they could pull you deeper into your instincts if you tried to resist too much.

Everything was just perfect.

His nose told him that Robin was deep in his instincts at this moment, once he opened the door to the nest room he could see it with his own eyes.

‐—--------

Robin knew their pup would come soon so his sex drive almost completely died off, his mind laser focused on getting every ready to provide, fixing the nest to make it comfortable, getting ready some filling snacks and liquids so he or his hubby don't have to leave the room. Just methodically scenting all the room.

He could smell the moment Nicolas entered the house. A whine almost instantly got out of him, calling his husband and expressing his discomfort and annoyance that he was outside of the nest, and not in with him.

The moment he entered the room his senses focused on the extra smell accompanying him.

Nicolas slowly got closer, Robin growling at him because he could smell other scents on him, which was messing with his senses and putting him on edge. He slowly put the new addition into the nest and proceeded to get out of the room to take a bath.

Not that Robin gave his husband much attention, too focused on the little form trying to sit up and making pitiful little whines at being left alone once again. His instincts ordering him to go and placate the little thing.

His pupils blown out as he got closer slowly, Robin crawled to you and once he was close he dragged you deeper into the nest, He lay down with you in his arms, and proceeded to bathe you in his scent. Methodically rubbing your scent glands.

You tried to get away at first, but with a firm push you were laying on your back, Robin taking you in his arms and purring loudly. Almost instantly you stopped resisting calming down and purring back. 

by the time you were 16 you had became an established medic in the empire and had been helping sew up a knights wound when a group of people came crashing through the tent opening. "Its his majesty!" a few voices shrieked out as everyone paused in horror.

You quickly snipped the ends of the stich before rushing over to the group with a few medics. Other, less noble patients brushed to the side for a moment much to your own dismay. You watched as the group laid him down, the emperor, Alwin Derosan, a great emperor, a violent man, your top priority now.

You slowly kneeled down to his head and started wiping at a small wound while others, older medics, your own mother focused on deeper ones. You slowly dabbed at the wound with a cloth, brushing long golden blonde hair that was sweat drenched away from the wound.

You paused as he blinked staring at you and mumbling something before closing his eyes again. You brushed it off and went back to stitching his wound shut, quickly forgetting it as you went back to the other men waiting.

It had been a month since you'd come face to face with the emperor, the war ending in victory to him like always. You'd gone back to your daily life but were shocked one day when guards showed up, demanding you come with them to the imperial palace.

Had you done something wrong? Was looking the emperor in the eyes a month ago a disrespectful act? You worried all the way during the carriage ride and while you were escorted through the hallways.

You slowly walked into the office, not before staring at the ornate doors in awe though. You bowed low, so low that you almost fell over which elected a slight chuckle from the man infront of you as you hesitantly stood back up.

"So you're the one..the little one I saw in between unconciusness" he said and you paused..little one? you certinly were not a little one, not a child at all. "Im not a child..your majesty" you said with a nervous smile and he rolled his eyes.

"Ofcourse..well, as a thank you for being so helpful to me, healing my wounds, I offer that you live here..in my palace" he said with a soft smile that you couldn't tell if it was genuine. "as a..maid..or medic?" you asked confused and he laughed, leaning his head back.

"of course not! as a guest..or friend" he said and you nodded slowly. "that is truly an amazing off-" "so you accept?"

You paused, could you say no? "..yes your majesty"

"Wonderful, the maids have already prepared chambers for you" he said and you nodded slowly, an older lady you hadn't noticed grabbing your attention and gesturing you to follow.

the following days were..nice and weird, you'd been introduced to so many new luxuries thought the emperor did seem to be going a little overboard..though you chalked it up to being lonely. It was during a meal that he seemed..strange after you mentioned going back home.

"why..why would you want to go home? is there anything you need? I'll have it brought immediately" he said before you could even finish..its like he never wanted you to leave.

You shrugged it off and said never mind as the weird look in his eyes dissipated. You went to bed that night feeling heavier then usual..though you had been eating alot so thats probably why.