#cw infantilization

[askoverkill]

Hold your hand out slightly below the Director's fingertips. They will get on when they're ready.

[Overkill is made by Pedro and Sam]

transcript below:

(You hold them.)

(Ah.)

(You glance up, and the Director is gone.) (Makes sense.)

...The creature is still alive? Huh.

The Director changed their mind about hurting it. Weird.

He didn't... do anything?

Hello... little... one...

You're safe now.

(Oh...)

(They're yours now.)

(They're going to depend on you.) (They need you to be kept safe.)

(Huh.)

Hello... "Pluto".

I'm sorry your introduction to this world was so terrible...

But, welcome, little one. It's going to get better.

...You wanted to have more kids, didn't you?

Yeah, I do.

...

...

I'm in my late twenties.

(OH.)

(WHOOPS?????)

[queer-reader-07]

i keep bouncing fauxcest infantilization brainworms off of @blueangelbby and now we're here! dead dove summer is STILL on!!

(dad!robby and daddy!jack btw because i said so<3)

--

"Ouch!"

Robby's head snapped up to attention, Dennis had said he was going to get a snack before settling in for a movie night, something he was usually free to do even when he was just their little boy.

"Denny?" Robby called, already moving toward the kitchen.

"I'm fine!" Dennis called.

"You didn't sound fine," Robby said as he entered the kitchen, eyes immediately going wide at the sight of blood. "Dennis."

"It's not as bad as it looks, I swear," Dennis tried defending, though the way he was cradling his left hand said otherwise.

Robby was at Dennis' side in an instant, grabbing the boy's hand to inspect the damage. There was a cut across his palm, not too deep but certainly not shallow. Robby looked back at Dennis' face, "What are our rules about knives?"

"Robby c'mon," Dennis whined.

Robby gave him a pointed look, "Is that how we speak now?"

Dennis' cheeks went red as he bowed his head in embarrassment, "No Dad. 'M sorry."

"Oh you will be," Robby said, turning Dennis' hand into the light. "Now answer my question, Denny."

"'M not supposed to use knives," he mumbled in response.

"No, you're not. What are little boys supposed to do if they want a snack that needs to be cut?" Robby asked, his tone condescending in that way that always made Dennis' brain go fuzzy.

"Supposed to get daddies to help," Dennis said, still not looking at Robby, cheeks growing red.

"That's right. And now we're going to have to take a trip to see Daddy so he can help with this," Robby said, holding up Dennis' injured hand. He moved to find a towel to hold over Dennis' wound until they made it to the hospital.

"Wha- no, no, Dad, we don't have to-"

"Are you sure you want to talk back to me right now?" Robby said, shooting a look over his shoulder.

Dennis' mouth snapped shut, eyes downcast in humiliation.

"Can you be a good boy and hold this over the cut for Dad? Keep pressure on it?" Robby asked as he walked back to Dennis.

"Can be good, Dad," Dennis mumbled, taking the towel from Robby.

"C'mon, let's find you some shoes," Robby said, leading Dennis down the hall to the mud room.

Michael: Den cut his hand, might need stitches. Think you'll be free to patch him up when we get there?

Jack: Shit, Mike, why was he even using a knife?

Michael: Said he was getting a snack, I trusted him. That a yes or a no?

Jack: Yeah, yeah, I'll be free.

"Daddy's waiting for us, Den," Robby said as he ushered the boy out to the car.

"Is he gonna be mad?" Dennis asked quietly, his uninjured hand still dutifully keeping pressure on his wound.

"He might be," Robby said plainly. "I know I'm not very pleased right now. I was looking forward to movie night with my favorite boy."

"'M sorry, Dad," Dennis whined apologetically.

Robby spared him a quick look as he drove, "I know, baby, but actions have consequences. You're going right to bed once we get home from the hospital."

Dennis was quiet for the rest of the ride. Robby parked out back, knowing Jack would be waiting for them in the ambulance bay.

Jack was just outside the doors, arms crossed in that way that sent a shiver down Dennis' spine. "How does it look?" Jack asked Robby as he guided Dennis into the ED and towards an empty room that he'd already laid out supplies in.

"Not awful, just a few stitches needed, definitely needs to be cleaned," Robby said. They were talking over Dennis' head, like he couldn't hear every word.

"'S not even that bad," Dennis whined petulantly as Jack sat him down on the hospital bed and went to close the door.

Jack shot him a look when he turned back around. "Are you arguing with Dad's judgment about your injury now?" he asked, his tone infuriatingly flat, not the softness Dennis was used to with Jack.

Dennis lowered his head and shook it, "No Daddy, sorry."

"Let me see your hand, baby," Jack said as he pulled over a stool to sit on.

Robby's hand was planted firmly on Dennis' shoulder, holding him still so he couldn't shy away as Jack examined his hand.

Jack unwrapped Dennis' hand and breathed out sharply when he saw the cut. "This is why you're not allowed to use knives, Denny," Jack said.

"I use sharper tools at work all the time!" Dennis spat back.

"You think I'm happy about that?" Jack questioned, eyebrow raised as he began cleaning the wound. "Why didn't you ask Dad for help?"

"Jus' wanted a snack," Dennis mumbled, a flush returning to his cheeks.

"Not what Daddy asked," Robby corrected, his hand squeezing Dennis' shoulder for emphasis.

"'ts embarrassing," Dennis finally said.

"I think ending up here when you were supposed to be getting cozy with Dad is worse, don't you think?" Jack asked, his tone condescending.

Dennis knew he'd really fucked up. Jack was usually the nice one. The sweet one. He's usually only this snappy with Rob- Dad. But tonight he'd crossed a line, and Jack was very unhappy.

Dennis felt Robby squeeze his shoulder again, prompting him to answer Jack's question, "Yes, Daddy."

"We don't like when our things get damaged, do we?" Jack asked, only continuing when he saw Dennis shake his head in agreement, "And that includes you, Denny. The rules are there so our little boy doesn't get hurt."

Jack finished patching Dennis up and walked them all back out to the ambulance bay. He gently cradled Dennis' face and kissed his forehead, "Be good for Dad now, yeah?" he said when he pulled back, an expectant look in his eyes.

"Promise," Dennis mumbled. He felt Robby's hand on the small of his back, nudging him closer to Jack.

"Tell Daddy good night and that you'll see him in the morning, Den."

Dennis shoved his face into Jack's chest in embarrassment, mumbling out a garbled "g'night," as Jack's hands came up to rub his back.

"You can do better than that, Denny. Say it right and give Daddy a kiss to get him through his shift," Robby instructed firmly.

"Robby-"

Robby cut him off, "Ah-ah, none of that. We took time out of his shift to get your hand fixed up. Say it properly."

Dennis looked up at Jack-- he wasn't getting out of this without eye contact-- and kissed Jack. The older man didn't let him deepen it like he wanted to, but he supposed it would do. When they pulled apart Jack looked at him, eyebrow cocked in expectation. "Good night, Daddy. 'm sorry for hurting myself. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good job, baby," Jack beamed. "I can't wait to cuddle with my favorite boy when I get home tomorrow," he kissed Dennis' forehead one last time before turning him around to face Robby. "But I think right now, you have a date with Dad and bedtime."

Robby held out his hand expectantly and Dennis, with all the fight worn out of him, took it without fussing so Robby could walk them to the car. Before they left, Robby pulled Jack in for a kiss (notably, he got to deepen it). "See you in the morning, sweetheart."

"Don't be too hard on our boy for me?"

"Tonight we're going straight to bed, we can save the fun for tomorrow."

And oh, Dennis couldn't tell if he was more nervous or excited for what that meant.

[yanshrike]

Yandere Vampire Coven: Duran (2)

Setting // Character Introductions

Yandere Male Vampire x Fem Reader

tags/cw: smut, 18+ MDNI, extremely dubious consent, coercion, soft dom, infantilization, light overstimulation, cunnilingus, fingering, possessive behaviour, mentions of rough blood drinking

Duran was different to the others. You’d always thought so. He didn’t belong here, amongst the broken souls and sadistic personalities.

Now…you weren’t so sure.

“I don’t know, Duran…” you said, your hand stopping his own from creeping up your thigh.

He stared at you with the same brown eyes as his sister, pools of warmth silently pleading with you. You forgot sometimes that Duran was the younger one, with how often he took on the role of protective brother to Elia and doting…something, to you.

Duran murmured your name as he leaned forward, the bed creaking as he got closer to you. “You haven’t been taking care of yourself. Your body is all wound up. It’s not good for you, sweetheart.”

He’d been like this all week. Asking about your sleep, and offering to help with his powers. Wondering whether you were eating enough, and cooking for you even when you said you were. Peeking at your neck, searching for signs of bruising and pain.

“He’s too rough. I keep telling him, but none of them listen.” Duran had huffed at the sight of the blue and black littering your neck.

Duran had gotten over his disdain for you not long after you arrived, but that hadn’t meant he felt anything stronger than apathy in its place. Duran was so busy caring for his sister, it hardly seemed like he had the energy to think about anything other than that and being angry at Lord Basilius.

You weren’t sure when things had changed. It was so slow, you hardly noticed when he began to hover around you more. When he started cleaning your bite marks when the others carelessly forgot. Maybe it was when he saw how gentle you were with Elia, or the way you’d help the others when they came home injured.

It was hard to tell. It felt like one day, Duran hardly noticed you, and the next, he was fighting with Seleucus and getting in trouble with Lord Basilius over it.

Today, it hadn’t been your rest or nutrition that had made him fuss over you. No, today he’d caught you touching yourself, and insisted that this need wasn’t being properly met.

“I can—I was doing it myself.”

Duran smiled at you, as though you had said something dumb and he found it rather cute. “I know you’re used to doing things alone, but I’m here now. There’s no need to deny it, sweetheart. I can see just how much you need this.”

Before you could protest, Duran pushed your white nightgown up your thighs, until the fabric met your torso. Your heart raced, both at the sudden and intimate touch, as well as the display of your flesh.

Duran went still at the sight of the love bites on your inner thighs. “Seleucus?” Duran asked quietly.

You shook your head, cheeks burning under his gaze. “Ren.”

Duran stared at you for a moment, before nodding. “He pushes you too much. He won’t do it again.”

It was true that Ren liked to ask a bit much sometimes, but he was the only one who was always there for you, since the beginning. Not Duran. Not Elia. Didn’t he deserve more of you?

Sure, sometimes it got to be a bit overwhelming when he pawed at your body, or when his bites got higher and higher up your thighs, but he was your friend.

“It’s alright…I don’t mind.”

The blank stare you got in return told you that was the wrong answer.

He reached up, his large hand patting your cheek. “It’s alright, sweetheart. There’s no need to lie to me. I know you don’t have the strength to stop him, but I can take care of it.”

The way he said it, like Ren was just a parasite that had burrowed a little too deep into your skin, made you shiver. “Really, he’s fine.”

Duran kissed your cheek before dropping to his knees in front of the bed, nestling himself between your legs. “I know, baby. Don’t worry about him anymore.”

You’d almost forgotten about your exposed legs, until Duran began to pull down your panties, lifting each leg to slip them off even as you lightly protested.

The vampire ignored you as he folded them, placing them neatly on your night stand. Then, he placed your thighs over his shoulders.

You squirmed, trying to pull away, but his grip was too strong. He was a vampire, after all. “Duran, I don’t think—”

Before you could finish, Duran pushed his face into your pussy, tongue lapping a single stripe up your cunt.

You gasped at the hot, wet feel of his tongue against you, unable to form a reply.

He hummed, his cool cheek resting against the warm flesh of your thigh. “You say you don’t, but your body tells me the truth, sweetheart. But if you really don’t want me to take care of you, just tell me to stop.”

Before you could answer, Duran took your clit into his mouth, staring up at you and sucking as he awaited your response.

All you could do was buck your hips, a jolt of pleasure running through your body. “Please, I—”

“Shh,” he said, pulling away and placing a kiss on your button before you could whine at the lack of contact. “I know you needed this. It’s okay, I understand. It’s natural to be frustrated…I have been too.”

You should tell him to stop. You’d never…things hadn’t gone this far with even Ren. If you let Duran have this, what else would he want from you? What about the others?

But as those warm eyes stared at you from between your thighs, you thought of the heat between your legs. The slick that gathered on his lips. Your slick.

As he mouthed at the flesh of your cunt, the thoughts got more hazy. It was hard to think about telling him to stop.

Maybe he was right…maybe you needed this. Just this once was okay, right?

Duran smiled when he saw your shoulders lose their tension. “Good girl.”

His head dipped down to lap up the wetness around your hole. “You taste good, sweetheart. All mine…I won’t let any of them do this to you, okay? You need me to take care of you like this. I’m the only one who knows what you need.”

The tension built in your abdomen, your body twitching and legs squeezing his head involuntarily. You tangled your hands in his dark hair. He was beautiful like this, his short curls tickling your thighs. Moonlight cascaded down from the sole window in your room, illuminating his tan skin.

He kept lapping at your clit when he finally pushed his fingers into your cunt, the digits long and thick. His hands were rough and calloused, but you liked how they felt against you.

Duran’s actions pushed you over the edge soon enough, your back arching against his touch, but he didn’t stop, even as the stimulation started to feel like too much. His fingers and tongue worked another orgasm out of you, before he finally pulled away.

“Much better now, isn’t it?” he said.

All you could do was watch as he smiled and eyed your exhausted body. He got up a moment later to fetch a wash cloth from your bathroom, and cleaned you up as you laid there, mind still a mess of pleasure and weariness.

Your eyes fell shut as he re-dressed you, barely aware as he pulled the covers over your body and tucked you into bed. You expected to hear him leave once he pressed a kiss to your forehead, but instead, his cold body pressed against you, pulling you into his chest, and tucking your head into his neck.

“Goodnight, sweetheart. We’ll do this every night that you need it to fall asleep, okay?”

If you’d had the energy to protest, to form even a single coherent thought, you might’ve fought harder against what he was saying. Instead, all you could do was drift off in his arms, your body tired and sore and satisfied.

[thisisparamisia]

People saying that my relationship with my MAP partner is abusive by default because I'm a CSA survivor.

This is paramisia and infantilization of you (as I assume you are both in the same age range.) You are capable of making your own decisions, and most CSA does not come from MAPs [link] - even when a MAP does commit a sex crime, it's not because of their paraphilia, it's because of their own selfishness. That's like telling the escapee of a serial killer "your relationship with this person who has ASPD is inherently abusive", it stereotypes the condition.

[bamthebatmobile]

I mean it's kinda true tho...

(NOTE: THIS IS JUST TO POKE FUN BECAUSE SMARTY PANTS IS ALSO SEEN INFANTILIZED BY SOME OF THE FANDOM ON TIKTOK)

[thedarkestrivernymph]

can we have more of the death yanders kidnapper fic? I really wanna see our life with him

A normal day in your life..

Y! Kidnapper x f! Reader

warnings: forced infantilization, religious themes, mentions of urine, diaper, baby-talk, forced feeding

the fic -> Death

“You have to.”

“No!” you're as stubborn as a petulant child, “I don't want to.” your voice thins until it wavers and you break into yet another sob.

“Sweetheart,” there's another groan before a warm hand brushes over your scalp, scratching up and down your nape as if you're a cat, “You have to eat, sweetie, if you don't, you know what will happen, won't you?”

There's a thickness that swells in your throat, just the thought of doing that ever again is enough to make your palms sweaty and feet itching to run.

“See?” his voice his smug, while his predatory gaze flicks with recognition of weakness. Of your weakness.

“You don't want to be down there again, right baby? I don't want to chain you up, you get all horribly bruised up.” he sighs softly, deeply with new-found hunger in his chestnut colored eyes. He talks soft and sickeningly sweet, as if his mouth had a mind of its own, apart from the actual ravenous beast inside of him that you have come to know so well. “I would hate for your delicate skin to be blemished.”

Another kiss is presses to your forehead, before he lowers his hand to trace over the pendant with his name engraved hanging from your collar. “Say ‘ahh’.” he urges again, lowering his hand to sit at the curve of your waist, keeping you firmly planted on his lap, dressed in unnecessary frill—like a doll. Like you’re his doll. This fucking creep.

The spoon lifts once again and its contents twist your stomach for the second time.

The spoonful is weirdly pink and brown with colorful sprinkles grinded into it. It is clear that it once was cake but now it is this weird odd paste that he, no doubt, put in the mixer because quote “you’re just a baby, babies don't eat real food”.

Yet this time when he seeks entrance, tapping against your bottom lip you open up with tearful eye, allowing the tooth-rootingly sweet to flood your taste buds. Swallowing is even more difficult as his hand creeps up to settle over your sternum, pressing, waiting to feel your throat bob.

“Good girl” you cry at his praise, because an entire bowl full of this slob is staringback at you.

“If you eat up maybe I’ll even let you play with your dolls again, mh?” there's another wave of nausea, as your lungs constrict and your airways tighten, but this time not because of the prospect of punishment if you disobey, but because of the pressure in your lower abdomen.

It's already worse enough that you have to piss literally every two minutes because of how fucking anxious he makes you, is him taking notice of the building pressure in your bladder.

“Sweetheart, oh? Do you have to go potty again?”

he’s so fucking condescending in his speech, so proud about having reduced you to this, that his smile stretches unsettling wide, inhuman, animalistic, vile—in another universe you hope he's a pig brought to slaughter.

You would rather die than pee into the diaper he put you on in front of him, worse, on him.

But suddenly he cups your tummy with one large hand, rubbing and pressing against it. “Come, you can go here.” your face drains of colour again as you grit your teeth, shaking your head in a firm ‘no’. You would rather die of shame then do that.

But he doesn't take no as an answer, he never does. Because you're his, god-given and all, remember? So he starts messaging your stomach, reaching beneath the layers upon layers of frilly blue to reach your navel and ram his grimy fingers into your flesh.

You cry out, jerk around. You may have lost your dignity, you may be kept like an animal but you won't allow this, no, you're still an adult, you're not a child nor an infant, you're capable of controlling your bladder no matter what—

There's something hot. Sticky and fluid. And as you ruin your diaper you, the realisation of what you just did settling in—the betrayal of your body, you cannot help but sob loder, cry, hiccup and mewl, babbling without coherent sentences as your face burns in shame.

And what does he do?

He grins. As always.

“Good job, Sweetheart.” he pressed his lips to your cheek, before he scoops another spoonful from the bowel and raises the the cool silverware to your mouth again.

“Come now finish, then we can get you all cleaned up.” so you do just that, allow him to fed you this sticky repulsing mess, that makes you gag with each swallow, because what else can you do?

And it isn't long before his face dips into your shoulder and he whispers into your skin the very same set of words he's chanted to you since you have awoken to yet another nightmare.

“I love you, sweetheart, so so much. You're my everything, and soon you'll make me the happiest man on earth. God! I am so excited, I can't wait to meet our little one.”

©Copyright - 2025 - thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

[hunnytoastt]

Pajamily (Happy Family AU HCs)

Clocking in to the jerk off factory with some HCs about what everyone wears to bed

CW: suggestive, mention of diapering, mention of breast feeding

Cassie is showing up to bed in a butch classic: plaid boxers and white tank top combo, NO BRA. Her wife-pleaser isn't necessarily tight-tight but it gives you an amazing outline of her mommy tummy and puffy nips. Plus, when she lifts her arms, her happy trail and hairy pits are on full display.

Baran will normally wear needlessly expensive silk pajama sets. If it's extra hot, she'll opt for a matching bralet and panties that are just small enough to show off her well trimmed bush. All of the sleepwear she owns are in an array of muted tans, blues, and pinks that all stupidly expensive luxury clothing come in. When she's able to, Baran makes sure that her pajama tops button in the front so that she can breast feed you if you get fussy during the night.

Trinity's pajamas are far more varied than Cassie and Baran's, but she usually settles for crop tops and breathable undies because she gets hot in her sleep. Even though she owns her own boxers, she likes to steal Cassie's because "they're just so much comfier." If it's especially warm, Trinity will sleep naked so that she can still cuddle with you without burning up.

Sometimes, if she's feeling especially small, Trinity will wear big pastel shirts featuring cartoon characters from the early 2000s and 90s. Her favorite is a soft pink, XL shirt that has The Powerpuff Girls on it. There are little holes and stains on the collar from where she chews on it if she's feeling overwhelmed.

When it comes to your sleepwear, Mama and Dada are spoiling you with absolutely whatever you want. Even though they're ultimately the ones picking out your outfits and dressing you in them, they still want to make sure you feel comfortable and have a variety of options. On nights that they want you to feel extra little, they forego bottoms altogether and have you sleep in a pull-up and a big, comfy t-shirt.

If they want you feeling even more vulnerable, they won't bother with a shirt at all.

[wolperdinger666]

Did you see...?

CW: The link below contains diaper/infantilization/mind break fetish drawings by Salem. Please be cautious when viewing.

"the diaper bsky is back 💀https://bsky.app/profile/bunnybunpamps.bsky.social/post/3mgtjtmytqk2t"

The thing that genuinely repulses me the most is the fact that he is explicitly sexualizing newborns here with the fucking gloves. I work with families and children, I see these every day. On babies under 12 months old.

Ik we've made pupstien files jokes, but holy fuck.