Kinda like it when you call me daddy

[grinded]

Doesn't everyone like to be pampered and spoiled? You could certainly understand the desire. How about receiving the benefits of experience and knowledge...through someone else, someone older than you and more distinguished? Be good, then, and you'll be rewarded. Be bad - well, remember: a punishment isn't off the table for someone with your youth.

— OR —

They're so young - yet so, so tempting. But you know what they say. The more forbidden the fruit, the sweeter the juice. They're absolutely off-limits. And wouldn't you love to taste them, no matter if you feel guilty or not? Look at yourself. Do you feel like a pervert? This person could be an outlier, or maybe you've always had a weakness, even if you didn't realize it before. At least you can take care of them like few others chasing after them could. You know exactly what they want and need.

• Comment with your character, information, and what role they'll play.
• Is there an age gap? Is this actually illegal? It could be kink play, though, or characters acting older and younger.
• Please note that there also doesn't need to be daddy kink "play" if you don't want it. There could just be an older/younger or an inexperienced/refined dynamic. Just be sure to clarify how heavy or light you'd prefer to go.
• Older ladies are fine, too.
• Reply to others.
• Thread.

Comments

[fourknives]

Robert, in play or in real life, does generally prefer being quiet. He is known to internalize, processing what he observes and evaluates it thoroughly. Media, mostly, as all fiction is reflection and commentary on the human experience, but even just observing people nets a lot of knowledge. People don't observe what's around them -- not when their heads are so far up their own asses.

Point being: Robert has, if nothing else, has absorbed some very interesting anecdotes from Hannibal concerning cultures, contemporary or ancient, and their various modes of expression. Hannibal seems to be a pretty keen art and history buff, and while it's pretty fucking pretentious, at least he doesn't buy a thousands-of-dollars expensive piece of art with no intent to know its meaning.

Everything Hannibal does bursts with meaning of some kind -- that's the terrifying thing about when they do this. There is so much intent and care in their interactions that it's brutally obvious when Robert misses a step.

Daddy is quite forgiving, though. Doesn't even expect an answer to his question, doesn't put the heat of a spotlight on Robert, who can be content to just rest there against his chest, soaking in his words like a story. A story is what Hannibal essentially gives.

One with a very pointed meaning, sharp enough to pierce with little pain, but the pressure as Hannibal's words dig in is not unnoticed. Robert's hand grips tighter without intention, head angling as his gaze lifts up to find a fraction of Hannibal's face. It rattles the bars in Robert's mind, the scaffolding that holds him upright, because that is such a painfully large thing to promise someone under circumstances that are both true and literally fiction. Hannibal knows about Marilyn and Val; he isn't saying things in ignorance. What does Robert do with this, this promise of a 'family' with Hannibal? Is he saying this just as Daddy, or...?

Robert doesn't want to ask, doesn't want to pierce the building cocoon that Hannibal is wrapping around him, but...he swears it's just unraveling on its own.

"...But, I'm-- I'm...bad," Robert grumbles into Hannibal's neck, flinching with shame. "I wasn't good to my...my last family. That's why I'm alone. I'm no good."

Lets be honest, he wouldn't have cleaned up for Marilyn, and if she hadn't died, she would have left. Because he's flawed, broken, he can't be fixed.

[itrhymes]

Hannibal holds his feral child - his partner, the color of clay in the sun, the shade of rich soil - in his arms, and he feels like a hunter. Like he's drawn something into a trap it can never escape, as if his arms are his jaws.

He presses his lips against Robert's hair again, this time to breathe him in. He smells like the suicide of a coward - like cigarette smoke, stale and tired - but he also smells like Robert, deeply, and Hannibal holds him in place perhaps just a hair more tightly than the game requires.

Robert gives his sins over to Hannibal, and Hannibal swallows them with wide jaws.

"Everyone has done bad things, Robert. No one escapes their vices forever. Not even Daddy." And some people never even try to run from them. Hannibal keeps one hand against Robert's hair and curls the other around his shoulder, holds him greedily close.

"You're not alone, little one. You're exactly what Daddy wants."

[fourknives]

An admission that resonates fiercely through the air like struck crystal -- Robert's eyes grow rounder as he hears it. No one admits their faults, not especially around Robert, who usually sits higher up the leader board than many on how shitty a person has been in their life. Someone always eventually accuses him of being worse, so reliably that it's pointless to compare failures.

Hannibal's admission is in forgiveness of Robert's faults. When was the last time anyone has done that for him? He remembers. He just wishes he didn't.

Exactly what Daddy wants -- it can't be true. Robert isn't right for anything. He wasn't good for Marilyn, he isn't good for Val, he wasn't even quite right enough for Joseph. Is Hannibal just telling him what he thinks he wants to hear? Robert feels something desperate boil up, confused and perhaps frustrated. His hand pulls on Hannibal's shirt more earnestly as he struggles with the thoughts fumbling around in his head.

"Until I'm not good enough. Until I disappoint you. I won't get better, Daddy."

Robert believes it isn't his choice. He believes that a broken glass can't fix itself. He doesn't believe in himself to bother trying anymore.

...Fuck. Robert feels his throat closing in under an invisible pressure, like a snake coiling around his neck. Daddy doesn't exist forever, Hannibal doesn't love him that way, he must be even less invested in Robert than anyone he's been with in the past. "...And you'll leave too."

robert is a class act, staying in character while under duress, 10/10 would play headgames w again

[itrhymes]

An energy builds between Robert's shoulders again. He hunches them in towards his ears instead of letting everything lean into Hannibal. Hannibal's dress shirt wrinkles further, some of the threads groaning in protest.

"This sounds like a story you have told yourself often, my dear." Time to switch tracks, just slightly. Small endearments, soft platitudes will not help press through this issue. They may press it away temporarily, but they won't solve any of it. "Do you lay in bed at night, afraid to sleep, counting the ones you've lost already and anticipating those left to lose?"

Hannibal's tone is not mocking, or even truly sympathetic. It's factual, it's calm. He is a soothing, steady narrator - truth made flesh.

Or he would be, if he didn't still bend everything to suit his design.

Hannibal tilts in closer. His arms are jaws, his fingers teeth, and he swallows Robert whole. He'd eat him, Hannibal knows all at once. If something terrible happened to Robert, he would have to. "Are you so certain I would leave, where others have? Your Daddy is a very stubborn man. Perhaps that is one of my vices, in fact. But it is not one I plan to give up."

Hannibal pulls back, enough to look down at the top of Robert's head. "Look at me, baby boy." He can see a bit of his nose, a shadow of his chin, but most of it is hidden where Robert is coiling down away from him. "Look at Daddy."

[fourknives]

Part of Robert feels a knee-jerk reaction to argue much too aggressively, all over one single word that Hannibal uses: 'story.' It sounds belittling. Robert knows what his faults are, knows the inevitable truth if he doesn't fix them. He ends up alone. Where's the fantasy in that if he has seen it happen threefold?

Another reference of Hannibal's 'vices.' Robert understands the intent, but it's so difficult to believe that anyone has flaws as big and troubling as his own. He just doesn't know the differences in their coping mechanisms, and capabilities for guilt. All Robert sees are people who don't seem so world-weary, so broken, so unstable as he is. Grass is greener, et cetera. It feels like ignorant placating.

Hannibal shifts away, Robert paying no real mind to it, until he's spoken to again. He doesn't want to look up, doesn't want to expose his buckling emotions to him. He stalls before finally obeying, glassy eyes staring up under defensively furrowed eyebrows. Robert doesn't flush easily, but around his eyes seems to glow a pink siren that tells that tears are definitely a possibility right now.

[itrhymes]

Hannibal waits, the air between them charged even as Hannibal himself stays as before - the eye of a storm. He watches Robert with a calm affection that doesn't grow rushed at the sight of Robert's pink-edged eyes. Hannibal doesn't need to hurry into comforting him, or destroying him further - all of this can happen at its own pace.

The hand in Robert's hair comes around, with all the softness of a bird settling its wings, to rest on Robert's cheek. Hannibal's palm spreads wide across it, his thumb just below the inner edge of Robert's eye. He pets him there, just two little movements.

"I enjoy you being around me, little one. And I am more than strong enough to hang onto what I value." Hannibal stays here, watching Robert, watching glassy eyes look back at him. "Is it so hard to believe that Daddy wants to keep you near him?"