#on an honest note. shes incredibly narcissistic and i know her mom is part of the reason shes that way bc she was given princess treatment | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ofwhiteknuckles-blog · 4 years

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(BEN BARNES / THIRTY EIGHT / HE/HIS ) – ( lucas felix ) has been spotted in the castle. they said to originally be from ( detroit ) and is often seen to be ( conniving ) but seemingly ( adaptive ). After being in Wolfenstein for ( two years ), they’ve come to ( be hesitant of ) the council in their own way. They work as ( sector patrol ) and are known around these parts as ( the sycophant ). better watch your back with that one around.

A LIST OF (AT LEAST) 6 AESTHETICS FOR THIS CHARACTER: ( abyss-black eyes tracking the motion of a conversational partner as they stalk away, the rhythmic tapping of calloused fingertips over a crossed arm, the rasp of a soft hum under the continuous hush of wind, sweet words clinging to the tip of your tongue, gears of thought grinding continuously and without halt, a smile that never meets the eyes but feels genuine regardless (and isn't) )

THE SONG YOU SEE AS THIS CHARACTERS THEME: ( amarillo sleeps on my pillow - fair to midland ) “ ... no one turned over leaves, no one branches out, no one went out on a limb when he belted out: get gone. some one looked for a clue, someone got the ax, someone yelled in the wake of the great collapse: get gone. minced words from anonymous cowards fell down from kingdom come. the threatened source of this obstacle course had cornered in a guessing game. every attempt turned a kettle of fish -, and loves making it’s waves. if i had to guess, he’s still making a mess worse than any thunderstorm.”

triggers: abuse, neglect, drug references

YOU ARE A CHILD OF POISON, THEY SAID.

one thing was incredibly clear to lucas felix from the moment he could comprehend the hand that life had dealt him: nothing would come easy, and nothing would be worth the time if it was. his mother always had the means of making a decent living for her son and herself, but squandered all of her earnings on selfish means instead. she was certainly a beautiful woman: alluring both physically and with a wit sharp as a blade’s edge, but all of her attention had always been selfish. surely it was habit taught to her from a young age, something she never bothered to break before she involved herself in other human interactions. but it was likely her beauty and charm that had seduced the man who impregnated her, and the likes of his name were never so much as whispered around offspring. lucas has never known the man’s name. babies should be a joyous occasion, and yet alessia felix found a way to make it entirely self-involved. her body had to bear the pain, her child was what made everyone so pleased, her creation. anyone who dared to involve themselves in the mess of his mother’s life was sure to see how narcissistic the beautiful italy born-and-bred woman was, and yes no one pressed a finger onto the issue. but such is the way of the world, so often are children abandoned to their fates.

he was a beautiful baby, but grew to be an awkward toddler, an awkward little boy. alessia made no attempt to hide her disgust at how her creation could be so gangly and ungainly, could stow away for hours with quiet toys that suggested knowledge more than play with other children. but perhaps that was for the better --- she couldn’t very well brag and show up with something like him, her offerings would be meager in comparison to children who were the spitting images of their beautiful parents. simple genetics, the awkward transitional period of a child, were held against a child who knew nothing of the world or such disgust from his mother. lucas was six, and alessia felix was the love of his life. all mothers should be, for little boys. but as he grew older, as his awareness developed, and as the blinders fell from his eyes lucas became aware of his mother’s feelings. while he was utterly devoted to her, drew pictures of her at school or told stories about my mom and me, she was ashamed of his too-long legs and chubby cheeks. his loss of innocence came across the dinner table (boxed macaroni and cheese again, so mom could go out again for the night), when he told her “i love you, mommy” and alessia heaved a sigh and responded with a purfunctory, “yea.”

grades meant nothing. educational achievements meant nothing. unconditional love from a child meant nothing, and lucas began to realize that if he wanted something more than boxed macaroni and cheese for dinner every night (if alessia even bothered to make it) he would have to get it himself. however it wasn’t as simple as taking it --- simply taking things earned him a swift but stern slap across the face and if he hadn’t learned in his younger years, lucas surely understood alessia’s feelings with those. he learned his charm from her, but it wasn’t easy being the odd child he was. still, with a desire to achieve, lucas applied himself to the art of manipulation. he discovered it was simple with the charm of a child: people were more likely to assist if you added a few tears, a little naievety. his teachers began to understand his plight as home as difficult when he spun the yarn of his mother having become deathly ill. his peers found him appealing when he shared goods pilfered or traded from others (without their knowledge for the former), and the reputation he earned himself in his youth formed the personality that perfected at puberty.

while all of these tricks worked outside of the household, lucas never managed to pull the wool over his mother’s eyes. but where unconditional love once stood in tolerance for alessia and her narcissism, now contempt remained. lucas fell out of love with his mother at twelve, and never looked back.

CLEVER AS THE DEVIL AND TWICE AS PRETTY.

on the summer at the end of his freshman year of high school lucas left an odd-looking boy. in the fall of his sophomore year he returned transformed, as if the summer heat had been a chrysalis and the ugly caterpillar emerged a butterfly. now if you held up a picture of alessia felix beside lucas you could see he was her child, all it took was a shot of growth hormone and the deepening of his voice. abyss-black eyes were the stark difference between the two of them (ignoring the thick black hair that sprouted from his face if he didn’t tame it back to stubble every four or so days), and alessia noted how much she despised the way he stared at her now. it made her skin crawl if only because it seemed as if he was looking through her. and he was. now he saw her for what she was: a selfish woman who had only wanted him to brag about her own achievements. but he hadn’t been worth bragging about when he was small, and now that he towered over her she wanted him to be seen with him. but lucas refused, perhaps a little too politely for her to understand at first, and it was only in a binge of some substance abuse that he took a stern hand with her. only when she struck him first out of a dead sleep --- staring at him for near twenty minutes before lashing out at him. it was the threat of never touch me again that he punctuated so perfectly, threatening to hold back no means to defend himself should she raise another hand at him. alessia mourned for herself the loss of her baby boy. all that was left was a man who was nothing more than a reminder of her failed relationships throughout the years. you’re just like them. you’re just like them. but he was nothing like them. perhaps the only similarity being how much he despised her, as they all did in the end.

over-achieving won him an early high school graduation by one year and excellent grades a near free-ride through college. he was always good with numbers, always good at calculations and the choice to step into the mathematical field was easy. alessia was notably absent when he gained his college diploma, if only because lucas couldn’t be bothered to let her know of the date. any by now he’d escaped the clutches of her den and made his own home somewhere on the other side of the city. he was sure he would never purposely cross paths with her, and if they did meet it was purely accidental. purely venomous. his first steps into the world of banking began the same as any other bland story: a teller whose talent for numbers opened gateways of opportunity. lucas was twenty-two when he was offered the position of personal finance. he was twenty-four when he began taking private, rich clients, and it was only a few months into that position that he met “slick ricky” dimatteo. the meeting wound up more fateful than any singular moment he had with his mother, at least it was opportunistic. silver-tongue and charm allowed for lucas to step into the world of second set of books, illegal numbers ... extra money, now he looked exactly like the son of alessia felix. fine suits, hundred-dollar hair cut, winning smile the smiles never met his eyes --- that died in his childhood, with his innocence, but he when he wagged his tongue people listened and were apt to believe the words that oozed from his lips. honest life turned to opulence ... he was sure he could have had more if he wanted it, but sitting on the outskirts of a life of real crime was comfortable for him. when he stole away in the middle of the night to confirm the collection of illegal debts owed he kept his own two hands clean (so what if his command got people hospitalized, right?) and lucas prided himself on the ability to forget what he had seen. things are so often lost in the black abyss.

a much-needed vacation found lucas in austria when the world ended, on a small trip around europe that had begun in italy. abject horror is the best way to describe lucas’ initial response, and though it took time for him to find wolfenstein he learned the climate of the post apocalypse. survival meant utilizing the one skill he’d been perfecting since his youth: a silver-tongue. people were less likely to trust in this world (and he couldn’t say that be blamed them), but they were also more insipid. it was a new hurdle, a new obstacle to decipher how to overcome, though ultimately lucas is of the impression that he’s doing quite well for himself.

FELL DOWN FROM KINGDOM COME.

it’s been two years since the sycophant stumbled into wolfenstein. at first he was unsure of his position in this small but growing civilization --- there are too many eyes that would be all-too willing to tear him apart for his less-than-honest means of surviving. but even here it’s simple to discover those who are willing to hear a good word. silver tongue found the correct ears to earn him a relatively safe, relatively useful place among these people where he’s already begun to weave his empire of secrets and misconceptions. when he was offered his place on the council he was hesitant, but accepted when adept eyes deciphered the usefulness of being in the know. people were easier to craft when you understood the workings. he’s not fond of the weight of a gun in his hand, but there’s no room to be picky when the large threat-at-hand doesn’t want to listen to his greatest weapon. if the creatures that roamed outside of the castle walls were able to listen to sweet nothings it would be an entirely different story, and so lucas once again has adapted. ultimately he is wary of the council, understanding the corruption that seeps within it but keeping his lips stiff on the matter. depending on who approaches in privacy, they will hear a different story of lucas’ opinion on the matter: sometimes he agrees wholly with them, others he can’t trust them as far as he can throw them, and his own personal truth is the most well-kept secret of them all. in wolfenstein lucas is the most careful of his lies overlapping, ensuring that what he tells one person never directly intersects with another --- it’s been more than thirty years since he learned his art and he isn’t so careless to let it fall apart now. while the creatures that roam the world are certainly a looming threat, in the post-apocalypse humans are the most dangerous monster of all and lucas is all-too aware of that.

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

i’m open to anything with lucas, really. he’s been around the castle for two years and i’m certain that he’s built any array of connections in that time. he’s a relatively social creature (which is needed for him to work his art), but he doesn’t really trust anyone. should we venture into any semblance of romance, please be aware that lucas is strictly heterosexual and has never been devoted to one partner, however i am willing to develop something given time and chemistry.

#wolfen:intro #x--- if i had to guess he’s still making a mess worse than any thunderstorm; ABOUT.#abuse cw #neglect cw #drugs cw

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palpablenotion · 7 years

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Hannibal Rewatch from the POV of an autistic fan

All episodes will be under a cut and reblogged from this first post, with the number and name above the cut for easy browsing.

Note: Because I’m watching this from a specific POV, i.e., observing Will Graham as being on the spectrum, I may be harsh towards characters. For instance, I’m incredibly critical of Jack, who doesn’t mean to hurt Will, thinks when it happens that it was worth it for the job, and is actively bad for Will’s mental well being. Conversely, I will not often be harsh in this same way towards Hannibal, who is also bad for Will’s mental well being but means to be. Hannibal’s actions are completely purposeful, unlike other’s who do Will wrong by being inconsiderate/ignorant/oblivious. Many character’s I share harsh opinions for here I probably genuinely like.

S01E01: Aperitif

I’m rewatching Hannibal to help with a fic I’m writing but already I’m annoyed at the head of the BSU for being so damn NT.

“I also understand it’s difficult for you to be social.”

fuck you Jack nds can be whatever the fuck we want including teachers

also don’t fuck with someone’s glasses even if you think that’s why they can’t make eyecontact chances are they’re using their glasses not to make eye contact you aba performing tool

“My horse is hitched to a post that is closer to asperger’s and autistics than narcissists and sociopaths”

I hate that this distinction needs to be made because apparently people confuse us auties with narcissists and sociopaths due to our presentation of symptoms, completely ignoring why each group presents that way - mind you, this isn’t hating on narcissists or sociopaths. we present these symptoms for different reasons, that’s just the truth - and part of us auties being confused with these other labels is the perception that autistics are “low on empathy” which isn’t always true - for me, a big part of my autism is just how empathetic i am, it’s exhausting

i empathize so much with will graham

Jack: But you can empathize with [them]? Will: I can empathize with anyone. Less to do with a personality disorder than an active imagination.

Thank you Will. I sometimes feel my imagination is a burden too, but generally I think it’s awesome. And his glasses have already fallen down again. This man I swear.

I love how awkward my guy here is. He’s beautiful and I love him.

Stop staring at him Jack he doesn’t like eye contact.

Hugh Dancy is so amazing, I love him and his acting.

“You make jumps you can’t explain-” “No, no! The evidence explains.”

He isn’t magic, he’s just better at your job, Jack. Also way to push someone who already said he’s autistic/autistic adjacent (definitely nd) into a situation he said he’s uncomfortable with and definitely didn’t want to do.

Will asks questions that really seem obvious. Elyse was supposed to feed her parents’ cat while they were away for the weekend. Will asks, hey, how’s the cat? She hungry?

Jack seems accommodating with his “if you feel like talking, talk, if you don’t, don’t” but this whole business is so messed up, he shouldn’t even be in this situation. Just because Will is good at his job doesn’t mean he wants to interact with these people.

And here Bev is being way too intrusive, but if I remember correctly - I might not, I didn’t have the autistic label or awareness back when I last watched this - she makes attempts to behave better.

Someone need to get this boy a blanket and hot drink.

And here’s our first instance of seeing him interact with an animal. He’s far more comfortable, doesn’t wear his glasses, won’t give up on this dog. Open and happy. Winston and the rest of his dogs show us that Will Graham isn’t some heartless automaton but a man that just has trouble interacting with people. He’s much more comfortable interacting with dogs, who have very plain motivations.

Jack is a bully. “What’re you doing in here?” He’s fucking putting himself together, get out.

You can’t abuse someone into working well with you.

He’s actively rattling Will, upsetting him enough to cause Will to shout. Will is trembling when talking to him.

“Graham likes you, doesn’t think you’ll run any mind games on him.” Insinuating that Will doesn’t like most people because they are running mind games and isn’t that depressing.

“I don’t. I’m as honest with him as I’d be with a patient.” I honestly don’t know how to take Alana saying this because she’s equating talking to a specific peer as talking to a patient and there are plenty of psychologist/psychiatrists that aren’t honest with their patients.

Newsflash, Will Graham isn’t his diagnosis.

“Seems ashamed not to take advantage.” That’s the summary of Jack’s interactions with Will.

“I need him out there.” No, you don’t. You want him out there to make your job easier.

Will Graham is a perfect example of how demonized people on the spectrum are. I won’t get ahead of myself and talk about the finale yet, but man what a post that will be.

It’s so easy to see the difference in someone actually psychopathic - if not perfectly fitting the label of psychopath - and Will Graham. Also, Jack is very unprofessional with Hannibal. It isn’t good form to approach a doctor with a patient. He’s also unimaginably rude, just going through stuff.

The only reason Hannibal didn’t kill Jack near the beginning, besides it being stupid to kill someone in the FBI, is that Jack gave him a gift in Will Graham.

Will and Hannibal’s first interaction is fascinating. Hannibal doesn’t try and force eye contact, but asks how Will feels about it. And Hannibal doesn’t try and hide what he’s doing. Will has an issue with mind games and Hannibal presents their relationship as being upfront (I mean, we know this is bs, but the presentation is what’s important, right mom’s of autistics? //s )

It’s so dark in Will’s hotel room, I am feeling that aesthetic.

Will tastes the food before moving it to his plate. I feel that too. There’s so much food I hate.

“Be professional... I don’t find you that interesting” Will is attempting to put up not only boundaries but barriers. He has grown to hate psychologists because all they want to do is put him in boxes and he obviously has a lot of shit in his past concerning that (not limited to being denied FBI status and losing his job on the force).

Will appreciates Hannibal making fun of how Jack sees him. He’s so tired of that shit, of thinking about it, of enduring it. We all know those paranoid little thoughts, am i annoying them, do they think i’m crazy, if i don’t do this will they think i can’t handle it? And Hannibal comes in and validates those worries by saying “Uncle Jack sees you as a fragile little tea cup” and Will appreciates that.

It also gives Will the momentum to ask how Hannibal sees him (which, don’t we always want to ask someone that?) and the suggestion is here that Will wants to see if Hannibal tells him the truth but also he legit probably wants to know. We always do. And we don’t.

“The mongoose I want under the house when the snakes slither by.” This response confuses Will but it’s not fragile. It is insinuating a strength, actually.

I love Will asking “What are you smiling about?” because if one thing pisses me off it’s people telling me to smile. Why should I? I’m not upset, I’m just not actively happy. Go away. They aren’t doing anything but driving so why on earth is Hannibal smiling. Will you have so many of the same issues I have (and a lot I don’t, thank God)

And Will enjoys that Hannibal is actively interested in his process. He’s opening up. Willing to mention why he’s doing things. Answers questions willingly and readily. It’s obvious that Will Graham has a logical reason for doing these things. Someone is finally acknowledging it’s a process and not magic.

I think this is something really important, when Hannibal calls Hobbs just to see what happens. I might think “what would happen if” but I think far too much about things and have far too much concern for others (and empathy, don’t forget empathy) to just throw a wrench in the works to see what happens.

And Will is actually really impressive. It’s so obvious to me that he wants to shut down, just stop, but he can’t yet. Not to say anything about those who would have, that’s completely valid. Will is so good at this job he doesn’t even have that he constantly fights himself to do it.

This is NOT a healthy place to put him. Someone on the spectrum who shuts down at things like this, who is actively not an agent, who has said he doesn’t want to do this and been coerced into doing this job, should not be forced into this position. This is why #someonehelpwillgraham went viral. Multiple times. And became a rallying cry for the fandom for a while.

#hannibal rewatch #actually autistic #autistic!willgraham #actuallyautistic #hannibal: aperitif #hannibal s01e01 #someone help will graham #palp psychoanalyzes #critical of jack crawford #critical view of inter-character interactions

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aanonymoussgirl17-blog · 6 years

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Last Night into Today

I suffered with my first full blown anxiety attack last night. 2 months ago I went off of one of my medications because it was giving me side effects and I had been doing really well for about 4 years. Well I was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with not feeling confident at my internship, graduating this year from Grad School and taking my LSW exam. Especially with finding a job and moving out in a year because everything I have written about my home life so far is true and just keeps getting worse. Well I broke down last night in the library part of our house. Sat there for 10......15.......20 minutes just breathing, crying, tensing up and tapping my finger trying to calm down. I had to make my therapist appointment but was unable to drive because I was shaking so bad. I wanted to ask my dad to drive but I knew my mom would be incredibly judgmental about it so I sat there until 15 minutes before we were suppose to meet. I emailed her and she had said she would call me at our appointment time. I was standing there shaking, my dad was waiting for the computer (btw both my parents ignored me for about the 20 minutes I was sitting there) until he saw saw I guess the look on my face and my posture and asked what was wrong. I didn’t know, I had never had an anxiety attack before I just wanted to go upstairs but he wanted me to sit next to him. I did and he held me as I slowly began to calm down. I was doing great until my mom came in. Before she came in as I was sitting with my dad she ignored me and kept asking questions about what my dad wanted to eat in the fridge and looking for validation on how great her cooking is (her food tastes like shit). When she sat down she got to her judgy self. Asking if I needed more medication. Anyone who knows me knows never to ask that because I am very intuned with myself and know when I need more or if I am ok. I had explained that to my dad before I sat down next to him, with my mom in the next room able to hear. She asked what happened and I told her I was having an anxiety attack, I mentioned I looked up the symptoms because I wanted her to believe me. She cuts me off right away saying “no you are not”. NO I am not WHAT? Having an anxiety attack? do you know what I am feeling? What I am thinking? She went on about how she is going to say this even though I “always think she is wrong and tell her that all the time” First off I never tell her that, maybe back in high school when I was going through whatever I was going through before i went to main and before I was diagnosed right. (Which she knew the real diagnosis and never told me). The only time I can remember I told her she was wrong was when she told me to use alcohol on my belly piercing or take it out because I had irritated it. This was incorrect because the piercers had told me this and taking it out can cause further complications. Anyway she basically does what she always does and makes it about her. However this was the first time she ever sat down with me. When I would have outbursts in High School she would leave my dad to take care of me while she cried in the other room about ‘why was this happening to her?’ ‘What did she do wrong?’ Then would proceed to ignore me for two weeks because she was hurt or whatever. She sat down and didnt hug me, she just sat there. Finally my therapist called in the middle of her shitty speech, which I had to respond to because there was no way to call her back because the number was blocked. She then gets angry at me and gets up and walks away. My anxiety attack comes back.........

Fast Forward to about a half hour ago. I am talking with my mom about my issues when I was younger and mentioned how I was ok now. She brings up last night. I tell her I do not like when people mention medication. She told me that I do not understand how me and hurtful I can be to her when I get like that. I was fuming. I mentioned to her that last night had nothing to do with her. I was freaking out. As I told her this she cut me off in her judgmental voice, attitude and facial expression and said “I don’t want to talk about this”. She didnt want to talk about it because I was standing up for myself instead of begging for her to forgive me (which is what I did in the past when she would not speak to me for two weeks). I told her again it had nothing to do with her and that my therapist had called and she says very judgmentally ‘I guess ****** is so smart’ and walks into the other room. (sorry guys no names). Then she goes on about what color hat to make next and starts talking about herself or whatever. I could have slapped her. I know this is terrible to say but my mother is a shitty, narcissistic, self-centered and mean person. And to be honest I truly believe there is a special place in hell for people like her.

Side note: I know that after my parents (especially my mother) have seen me freak out like this. That is all they will associate me with, that I havent changed or that I am (still) broken. Because in my opinion all they honestly (MAINLY MY MOTHER) focus on is my fuck ups, not the millions of times I have shown I was different, improved or matured but my fuck ups

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