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thegayneurodivergentagenda · 11 months

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hi hello pran autism anon here again!! i just watched ep 4 again and i noticed at the scene when pat comes to give pran his earphones, and lets himself in, pran repeatedly expresses his distaste at the fact for two reasons. yes, he doesn’t want pat infringing on his privacy or messing up his meticulously arranged living space. but it's the other reason that intrigues me when looking at pran through an autistic lens. he repeats that pat entered without being let in. he's very bothered not only by pat's actions, but also the fact that pat is breaking a social norm. as an autistic person, i find that i tend to feel uncomfortable when i see other people not follow social norms, which i feel is because i've had to consciously learn these and remind myself to follow them for years. i feel like pran is having a similar internal experience here, where he's seeing pat do something that isn't considered 'socially acceptable', which bothers him because he has a script in his head that he's built up over the years, and this doesn't follow the script that he uses to dictate what is and isn't okay to do, what does and doesn't get him acceptance from his peers etc. he then comments that pat 'has no manners'. i think this is a pretty common thing that many autistic people have experienced, being told we have no manners because we unconsciously broke an unwritten social rule we never learnt about. pran, in my opinion, can't help but project the rules he's learnt to help himself fit in and mask onto other people. it might be a very small detail to focus on, but it's something that really got me thinking.

thank you for reading my rant about literally three lines of dialogue!! hope you have a great day!!!

I love you anon.

I know you didn't technically ASK me to rant about Pran's relationship w his room but I have too much to say and I hope you're okay w that.

Pran and his room: from the lens of autism

1. As someone with autism, social rules and norms that we agree with are set in stone. So your analysis about Pat breaking a social rule makes a lot of sense. Especially when you see the other interactions at the food stall and music shop (you're not supposed to sniff people????????????)

2. It's also likely that he's very transparently present in his room. For people with autism, our rooms are our safe spaces and worst nightmares because they reflect so much of who we are. If they are messy, It's our mess. If it's organized, It's customised to our space. Rooms, dorms and other living spaces are basically a self portrait.

Which is why when Pat dares enter and sneak a peak at his barest self, lit with fairy lights and faces telling him how to smile, rituals along every curve and table, he feels scared. What if Pat notices his smilies and thinks he's still a child (he should have overcome the hyperfixation by now? Will Pat understand?) What if Pat notices his coffee stained couch and calls Pran on being an imposter who only pretends to get angry at messy stains. There's so many ways Pat could see behind his carefully constructed masks.

His apprehension from pat entering could be from not letting Pat see him.

And that's also why he holds the social norm of asking before entering so close to his daily functioning; revels in the safety of enforcing this rule rigidly.

[I sometimes liken this to the idea of a nest in the omegaverse where it's extremely personal and reflective of the person making it. I also love the omega verse so much because it takes a lot of neurodivergent traits and makes them seem normal and that's just another post altogether]

3. When Pat and Pran finally get their shit together Pran let's Pat change his room and make the space theirs. It's the biggest declaration of love if I've ever seen one. He let's Pat put up photos and shares his bed and doubles the Pillows and makes space for Nong Nao. All because he's ready to allow Pat in his space. Across the rituals. Inside his safety.

4. The fact that the most crucial of the moments (The Kiss, The Bet, The Ming) happen away from the safety of his room goes along with this and his canon OCD.

If you're living with OCD, safe spaces can turn into compulsions at the sight of threat. And the fact that he was so adamant on keeping the relationship behind closed doors felt a lot like stemming not just from his anxiety about his parents but also his imposter syndrome: It's a glitch in the matrix that Pat likes me back and we should not test the matrix lest it remind Pat I'm an annoyance that he rather not deal with.

If you have autism, the safety of your room provides familiar and clear cues that could be helpful if an emergency is to arrive (I could just start talking about the rotting food if conversations get tougher// I could go to my own washroom and pretend to take my time if I feel overwhelmed). These safety nets are not present Outside.

And it is through his autism that Pran shows his love to Pat.

He let's Pat break his rules constantly. Not because they don't cause him discomfort. They still do. But his love for Pat is just greater than that.

He will let Pat drag him outside. Let Pat post photos of him. Let Pat make a mess on his kitchen table. Go with Pat to an unknown room.

As Anon said, these rules and norms and safe spaces are all in place because of being reprimanded for being neurodivergent by the neurotypical system builders. They are precautions to avoid being hurt or being called out on the fact that they don't belong.

But Pran doesn't feel hurt in Pat's presence. Because regardless of if they are friends or enemies, they've always belonged together.

#hi anon i love you #and i hope you know your efforts are appreciated sm in this home #i cant help but feel like youre apprehensive about the accuracy of your analysis #but i hope you know that youre so insightful and fun?#all autism is different in its nuances and i love you for putting in so much efforts for our dear old pran #bad buddy #patpran #bad buddy brain rot #bad buddy text posts #autism #neurodivergent #ill wait for anon to become non anon but take your time bb #we have hugs for you!!!

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solarisfortuneia · 3 months

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— 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬.

and the smell of camphor dancing in the wind.

✦ info: he didn't know he'd lose you so soon. (come back, please. even if it is just for five more minutes.)

✦ featuring: alhaitham.

✦ warnings: angst, character death (reader), heartache, 1.2k words, somewhat proof-read.

✦ notes: i cried so goddamn hard writing this. why is my first work after hiatus pain. why did i pick up the angst wip. but!! i'm writing again, so that's good. (more notes at the end.)

he didn’t know that it was your last day together.

he didn’t know that the smile you gave him that afternoon, your eyes sparkling like sunlight upon the serene waves of the ocean, would be the last he’d ever see. that the playful light in your gaze would fade so very soon, slipping through his fingers like sand.

he didn’t know that last night would be the last time he held you close while you drifted off to sleep. he didn’t know that today would be the last time he’d wake up with you.

he didn’t think he’d lose you like this.

he didn’t think he wouldn’t be able to save you from that blow.

“please, please,” he begs, both to you and to whatever force that is just barely holding you together. “just stay with me for five more minutes, please. until i can get you somewhere.”

the rain soaks him to the bone, clothes and hair sticking to his skin. your lips stay motionless, eyes shut.

“wake up, please,” he bargains. “you can have all the five minutes of extra sleep you want later, i promise. just—” his vision blurs, and something shines on the ground before it is gone, swallowed by damp earth, lost amidst drops of falling rain.

desperately, he tears off parts of his traveling cloak to staunch the bleeding. deep inside, he knows it is futile. he knows your wound is too great. he knows what lies ahead. but he cannot help but press the cloths to your wound and pray.

please, please tell me it’ll be okay.

please stay with me, beloved. i’ll read you all the books in the world. i’ll sleep in with you everyday, even if we end up whiling away our time.

please. stay. stay with me. i can’t lose you yet.

“— just wake up, beloved.”

by some miracle, your eye flutters. just a bit. just enough to set hope ablaze, just enough for the grip on his heart to loosen a tiny bit. he buries his face in your shoulder, resting his head against your neck, uncaring of the blood that stains his clothes. your blood. on his clothes. his hands. everywhere.

no. no. this can’t be happening.

he feels you strain beneath him, your unwounded arm gently, weakly brushing his back. he jolts upright, eyes trained on your face. you send a frail smile his way. he clasps your face softly as you nuzzle into his palm.

“alhaitham—”

his full name. archons, how long has it been since you called him that?

“— take good care of yourself, okay?” you tell him, chest heaving, your fingertips touching a tear on his cheeks. “i love you. so much.”

those are the last words he hears fall from your lips. he presses a kiss to your forehead, to your eyelids, and to your cheeks and to your lips, over and over and over until he feels your breath slow, hoping they’ll say what he knows he cannot manage to choke out.

i love you.

he stays there next to you for who knows how long, holding you until the rain slows and a faint rainbow smiles in the sky.

until he can’t smell camphor anymore.

—

every person has their curiosities.

they’re just the little traits that set them apart from others, the things that make them tick just a little bit differently, the things that make them, them.

for instance, someone may be obsessed with collecting tiny furniture, while another eats the crusts off their sandwich before actually consuming it. someone may have an affinity for the most niche aspects of linguistics, while another can accurately predict the next raindrop that slides down a window pane.

after all, no two people are exactly alike, are they?

alhaitham knows he’s got his fair share of these curiosities himself. his aversion to soup and all things that resemble it, to name one. and with you, he’d noticed two things.

number one: the scent of camphor that seems to linger on every inch of your person.

he’d caught whiff of it almost immediately the first time you met. you were but one of his juniors in the akademiya, filled with bright-eyed curiosity and anxiety to match. you had tripped over a stair and bumped into his table in the library, bringing the mountain of books in your arms crashing down.

and with subsequent coincidental meetings, he learnt that the subtle scent of camphor dancing in the air meant you weren’t far away.

you were, unfortunately, one of the poor souls who seemed to be cursed with constantly recurring minor illnesses, and almost always walked about with a stuffy nose. and so, you always carried a small disc of camphor in a handkerchief, as well as in your pocket.

you swore up and down, left, right and center that sniffing the vapors helped make breathing easier.

‘it’s my grandmother’s remedy, alhaitham! camphor always works wonders. well, that and eucalyptus oil.”

alhaitham may not know the validity of your claim or the legitimacy of the cure, but he knew to never, ever question a grandmother’s remedy. that, and he’d much rather refrain from starting a back-and-forth about something so small.

and number two: your neverending pleas of different variations of ‘just five more minutes!’

“five more minutes, ‘haitham. please.” you’d whine grumpily when he woke you up to start your day. “let me sleep in for five more minutes.”

“five more minutes, habibi,” you’d ask when he put down the story you’d requested he read out to you before bedtime. “read me the part where she finds the music box?”

“five more minutes, baby,” is what you’d tell him when he asks how much longer you’d take getting ready. “you can’t rush perfection!”

those five more minutes were never five minutes long.

but he’d always, always indulged you and those pleading eyes of yours. as stoic as he appeared to be, you lived in his heart. of course he could never deny you anything under the sun.

—

alhaitham remembers that silly little song you sang over and over, the one you’d learnt from a kid in the bazaar. he’d taken you to see one of nilou’s performances, and, friendly soul that you were, you’d struck up a conversation with some of the eager audience members before the play.

“oh, how i wish i was a bird flying free,

i’d see the world, every mountain and every sea!

oh, how i wish i was a cloud in the sky,

wouldn’t you like to wave to me as i pass by?”

you’d hum that rhyme on every idle afternoon.

loss is inevitable. he knows that, with how logical and rational and straightforward he is. he’d lost his parents, but he was far too young to remember. he’d lost his grandmother, but she passed in her sleep of old age, serene and wise.

but you? he didn’t think you’d leave him this soon. a singular wish sits in his soul, making its home in his bones.

a wish that you’d come back, somehow.

he wishes you gave him five more minutes, just as he always did. but he knows that you could’ve given him five more hours, five more days, five more years and five more decades and it would still not be enough time spent with you.

a blue feathered bird comes to perch on his shoulder, interrupting his musings just as he raises his face to the sky. he sees the heart shaped cloud that floats idly above sumeru city.

he thinks of the rhyme again, and something in him tells him to wave. and so he does. a scent so familiar lingers, faintly brushing his nose in the wind that picks up.

“alhaitham, it's time to go.” kaveh calls his name softly.

alhaitham doesn't move. “five more minutes,” he says, echoing your favorite phrase. “i smell camphor in the breeze.”

✦ extra notes: my alhaitham characterization for this fic stems from how i believe that when alhaitham is attached, he's attached. so i focused more on that, and less of all that rationality and whatnot. this one loves deeply, yk?

that camphor thing is a real grandma remedy in our household (my mom would tie some in a hanky and put some under my pillow and still to this day reminds me to do it when i'm sick) which is what originally sparked the idea for this

when i'd initially started this wip, i didn't expect it go this way. usually i write with my brain, but i think i wrote this one with my fingers working faster than i can think hsjhsj so sorry if it's kinda out of place lmao but yk what? i'm happy with it still even though i feel like it doesn't have my usual quality.

thanks for reading.

#—🖋#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#astronetwrk #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #alhaitham x you #genshin x you #emotional blabbering ahead in the tags beware #this is hitting me in a place i didn't know existed hjsjs #like. i haven't lost anyone but i have lost my life as i know it?#this past year was full of so many endings and i've been struggling in some way everyday #like i didn't know that the last time i saw my friends would truly be the last time we ever saw each other #i didn't know that i'd be bidding goodbye to my parents as i left home through an airport #ANYWAY ENOUGH DUMPING. ig i'm just telling you to hug the people you love tighter and cherish every moment you spend with them #time goes by really quickly and you don't know where it'll go #ily guys #ew barf feelings </3 /j

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