#GRABS THE CHASM BY THE THROAT. WHEN WILL YOU RETURN RELEVANT AGAIN

[ccaptain]

I need to address this thing that we had in the Genshin lore for so long- but the fact that Kaeya was put in solitary confinement along with Klee right as he was about to head to the Charm cannot be something of a casual concidence.

Judging by what we, as the Traveler, have found in the Chasm, I have two theories that both include Kaeya getting both himself and Klee grounded that day was intentional. These theories being the following:

A much simpler and less angsty one is that Kaeya had studied the Chasm, its environment and enemies prior to its opening, perhaps has judged it too harsh for an expedition made only of him and Klee. He knows about Klee's potential and strenght, but the poisonous miasma and complex enemies might have been too much for them to take on together- not to mention that they could have risked some sort of serious poisoning, without the proper equipment- and the proper equipment warranted more researches and investments, which they didn't had at the time. He was not willing to break Klee's enthusiasm over this and risking of undermining her position as the Spark Knight... so he had to cause a bit of chaos and get them both grounded in order to stop a potentially dangerous expedition. He kept Klee distracted all day in her room as they were both grounded, and the Chasm problem was swiftly forgotten. Another victory for Kaeya!

Now, for a much angstier possibility: Kaeya knows of the connection between the Chasm and Khaenri'ah. There's no way that this is obscure to him, a person who loves to investigate every single nook and cranny of places. An old headcanon of mine that I almost ditched is that my Kaeya, while being very little when the Archons wrecked havoc in his homeland, was able to see the horrors just as his father and the little group of runaway survivors was able to escape to the surface of Teyvat. There's a thing that he was that kept shining even among the Anemo-infused flames... and that was a Celestial Nail. Perhaps multiple, judging by how much the heavenly principles wanted to punish Khaenri'ah for their arrogant sins.

He also had an hunch that the Bough Keeper was nosing around the same environment, and no desire to meet him, along with little to no informations about the time of his visit- so he took no risks, rather getting punished and nullifying the expedition with a good grounding all together.

The Serpents are people that have, very possibly, seen him- and could have somewhat recognized him, evoking the image of a little child with a distinct color of hair and mismatched eyes from the depths of their conscience. Worse, they could have sensed the Curse of Khaenri'ah on him- and he would have had a lot of explanations to give to Klee, afterwards. 

Not to mention that there's the Curse- what would have happened if the distruption caused by the Abyssal Order was able to affect him at the same moment him and Klee were facing a powerful enemy? Poor Klee would have been left alone to fight and terrified as to why Kaeya was close to screaming in pain, doubling over and clutching his eye so hard...

It's very possible that Kaeya has considered all of these options, and picked the best way out of this.

So far, my Kaeya has yet to visit the Chasm.

Why? Both of these speculations are options he could have taken! We'll just never know BECAUSE HOYO DIDN'T EXPLAINED THIS FURTHER.

:)

[emerywrites]

“A Son I Can Be Proud Of”: A Tangled the Series fanfic

So I started writing this during all the hype for “Cassandra’s Revenge”. I just finished it yesterday. It takes place after “Be Very Afraid” and before “Cassandra’s Revenge”.

Summary: Varian knew that one day he would have to tell his dad about his time as the villain of the story. But with each passing day it got easier to put off. Eventually, he found that he could imagine a world in which his dad never had to know. Fate isn’t so kind.

 Content Warning: character has a panic attack

Varian was up in his bedroom hunched over the Demanitus Scroll. That was all he seemed to do anymore. As the days wore on, with no sign of Cassandra, he felt the urgency increase along with his anxieties about what would happen if she showed up with them unprepared. The translation was barely halfway done and he was no closer to finding out any relevant information.

This was his chance to prove that he could do something productive now that he was on the “right side of history”. He had tried to help get the king’s and queen’s memories back and had failed. Rapunzel was the one slowly bringing them back. Then he’d gone on that quest with her to stop the red rocks. While he’d been an important part of that success, Rapunzel had been the real hero. He never would have made it far without her encouraging him. No matter what it seemed that in the end the princess was the real hero.

What he needed was a break, and yet he kept going, making no progress as his eyelids drooped with exhaustion. Varian didn’t even notice his head begin to tip forward. The heavy slam of the front door startled him back into alertness. His dad was home… And Varian had forgotten to make dinner. He jumped up and ran downstairs.

“Sorry!” he blurted out as he leapt down the last three steps. “I’ll get dinner ready now!”

Quirin set two large jars of honey on the dining table then pulled out a chair and sat. He was working at slowly removing his boots as Varian ran past him and into the kitchen. His brow was deeply furrowed and he seemed much too focused on his task.

Varian slowed to a stop. He’d already removed his apron that he used for alchemy and was halfway through tying his mom’s old apron for cooking around his waist. “Are you okay, Dad?”

Quirin didn’t reply. He picked up his boots and went to set them next to the front door. “I got the honey Travis promised us.” His movements were stiff as he straightened from dropping his boots in the usual spot then turned back around.

A lump caught in Varian’s throat. It stuck there making it difficult to breathe. Something was very wrong. He could sense it in the tension in the air. He undid the apron and set it on the kitchen counter.

“Varian,” Quirin said with a sigh.

The way he said it made Varian suddenly feel very, very small. It was the way his dad would say his name whenever he had messed up. If asked, he could have recounted each use, tying to some alchemical explosion or awkward slip up that cause offense with their neighbors. It was like the disappointment in his dad’s voice physically weighed down his name as it was spoken. Varian stepped out of the small kitchen area and stood there waiting for whatever was going to come. “Yes, sir?”

Quirin stayed near the front door and crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes focused on anything other than his son. “When I saw Travis today, he told me something.” There was a long pause. Varian knew better than to interrupt so he waited. Each moment of silence was like the metaphorical chasm between them growing wider. “I can’t believe that it could be true. He told me… he told me that you did some very terrible things while I was trapped in the amber. I know you, Varian. I know that you would never do the things he told me. I was going to tell him that it wasn’t possible, but… but then I realized that you never actually told me what you had been doing while I was trapped.”

Varian’s heart was racing as his stomach sunk down to his feet. He had tried to tell his dad the truth many times, but the words never left the tip of his tongue. There was always some interruption or it was never the right time. Then eventually it felt like it was too late. He’d been lucky enough that no one had never mentioned it in front of Quirin, so why should he ruin how easy it had become with his dad? But it looked like his luck had just ran out.

Quirin took a step forward. “Please, Varian.” His voice was desperate and it killed Varian to hear. It was worse than those visions the red rocks had given him. Then, his dad had been pleading for his help, this was his dad pleading for a comforting lie. “Please tell me that Travis is wrong.”

And the lie would be so easy. All he had to say was No. No, I didn’t do any of the things he told you. Travis is a liar. I’m your son. I’m the same Varian that you’ve always known. Why should he ruin it? They could go on living in denial and never have to confront the darkness that Varian had brough into their home.

But then he would just be going back to that darkness—embracing it with all his might. He didn’t want to keep living in that perpetual state of lying to himself. The madness of insisting that everyone else was to blame that suffocated any possibility of healing. He didn’t want that.

“Dad,” he started weakly. “I can’t… I can’t tell you that Travis is wrong.”

Quirin scrubbed his hands over his face and looked away. Tears were collecting in his eyes but they didn’t fall. “He said that you-” He paused and cleared his throat. “He said that you kidnapped the queen. That you tried to kill the princess! Varian, that can’t be true!” His voice slowly rose in volume. It made Varian feel sick to hear how distraught his dad was becoming.

There was nothing for Varian to do but nod. He stared at the ground, unable to keep looking into his dad’s eyes. The shame was overwhelming and yet there was a stubborn part of his mind that was screaming at him that it wasn’t his fault. He refused to indulge it and instead locked it away and buried it like the hazardous thing that it was.

“He said that you took over the kingdom with those Saporians! That you helped erase the king’s and queen’s memories!” His dad’s voice cracked and Varian’s heart along with it. He’d never heard his dad so broken and vulnerable.

He nodded again. If he tried to speak the floodgates would open. All Varian allowed himself to do was nod and watch as his tears dripped onto the floor at his feet. The shame was now clawing at the inside of his chest, like a desperate animal trying to get out.

Silence. The only sound Varian could hear was his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. Then his dad’s voice returned.

“Oh, Varian. How could you?”

It was like the air had been sucked out of the room. Varian knew that he had to be dying, because his heart felt like it had been ripped from his chest. He sunk to the floor as his body was racked with sobs. “Daddy, I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Once he started, he couldn’t stop. The mantra of “I’m sorry” continued on and on.

Strong arms wrapped around him and pressed him against his father’s chest. He gasped and sobbed and clung onto his dad.

“It’s okay, son. It’s okay.” Quirin made comforting, shushing noises. It was the kind of thing Varian hadn’t heard since he was a small child.

But his dad was wrong. It wasn’t going to be okay. How would they ever move past this? He had betrayed the whole kingdom and then once he’d finally been forgiven, he’d hidden it from his dad. His father would never be proud of him. A fresh wave of sobs tore from his throat and his dad only held him tighter.

It was an hour before Varian calmed down enough that he was able to pull away from his dad. He sat back against the leg of the dining table and pulled his knees up to his chest. His throat and his eyes ached from crying. He stared at his knees until he heard a sniffle. Slowly, he raised his gaze until he met his dad’s eyes. Tears were drying on Quirin’s face, leaving clear tracks where they had run down to his chin. His dad had been crying along with him.

Varian took a deep, trembling breath. This wasn’t something he could come back from. Everything had changed with Travis’s words to Quirin and there was no undoing it. He got to his feet and had to grab onto the table to steady his shaky legs. Quirin got up at the same time and put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I can go.” The words came out of Varian’s mouth much too quiet. He tried again, putting more force into his voice. “I can go. I’ll be gone tonight, if you want. I understand how ashamed of me you must be.”

His dad’s arms were back around him, pulling him into another tight embrace. It was so unexpected that Varian didn’t return it. “Son, I…” He went silent but it wasn’t full of foreboding like earlier. This was different—comforting even. “I may be shocked and disappointed, but I could never send you away like that. You will always be my son. I will always love you.”

It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. Varian pushed away as hard as he could and his dad released him. Quirin looked at him with eyes full of hurt. “You don’t mean that,” he said as he wiped away the fresh tears sliding down his face. “You can’t. How could you want…” Varian trailed off as his throat closed up and the words became too difficult to speak. He desperately tried to continue but instead of words a choked sound came out. It was embarrassing and pitiful. He was trying to deal with his consequences like a man and he was acting like a child.

Quirin opened his mouth to say something and Varian held up a hand to stop him. Varian tried again, swallowing down the lump in his throat and pushing out the words one by one. “How could you… how could you want someone like me… living in your house?”

“Don’t you dare!” Quirin’s voice was low but stern. It startled Varian with the conviction behind it. “Don’t you dare talk about yourself, like you’re some stranger to me. This is your home, son. I would never kick you out or abandon you. I told you, finding out about this is difficult. I wish you would have just told me. But I am so proud of you for coming out the other side, still being a son that I can be proud of.”

Varian was surprised that he hadn’t run out of tear as more burned behind his eyes and cascaded down his face. “I was so scared,” he confessed, trembling where he stood. When his dad pulled him back into a warm hug, relief washed over him. For the first time, since his mother had died, he felt truly secure.

Quirin kissed the top of his head. “I will always love you, son.”