Drabbles, I believe, are little bits of inspiration for others writing in the same fandom/for the same character(s) and good writing practice, since they don't have as much of a cemented plot and lots of room for reader interpretation. That being said, these (at least four) drabbles will be connected and explore a more angsty Varian/darker tone to the Tangled fandom, as mainly presented through the series.
If you, reader, are struggling with keeping your head up and/or are having pressing issues with darker thoughts, then I do not recommend this collection. I'm not going to be super duper depressing or anything, I just don't want to aid in any struggles you may have in the realm of sorrow. Unfortunately, most of my fics do play around with more emotionally mature themes.
Instead, please take the time to dedicate yourself to healing through venting, journaling, and talking to a therapist/ someone you trust who will be knowledgeable/intelligent with what you are facing. I know from experience that there are much better days ahead, and that this is a test of inner strength and stamina. You will emerge even stronger and wiser and more beautiful and brave.
That all being said, above statements I will try to explore here. I am no psychologist/mental health professional, but rather an enthusiast and someone who may end up going into such a practice later on.
I can't promise any regular updates. Like I said, this is practice for stronger writing, character study, and to be used as a break from longer and more intensive fics.
But, enjoy :)

Darkness.

Cramped, damp, and suffocatingly silent darkness crept in on Varian from all sides as he tried to endure his first night in the prisons underneath the Corona castle.

Upon Varian's arrival to the capital only hours after the showdown in Old Corona, he had been led by no less than four guards down to the deepest dungeons meant for the prisoners that weren't ever to see the light of day again.

Manacles threateningly hung on the wall beside Varian as he curled tighter and tighter into himself in the back corner, wishing to disappear off the face of the earth.

"You will," a voice in his head tauntingly said. "Everyone will forget about you down here. Rapunzel, your Flynn Rider...Even Cassandra will not mourn your incarceration after you tried to crush her! Soon, the guards will forget the scrawny brainiac and he'll starve! And then you'll join father...And he'll take one look at you and you'll wish that you hadn't even been born, you disappointment!"

No longer did Varian have the consolation and comfort of his forest friend when it came to him thinking such malicious thoughts, for they had taken Rudiger away upon his arrival. Varian had thrashed about, trying his best to break away from the guard that had been holding onto him, and wailed in protest as Rudiger had been ripped off his shoulder and stuffed into a cage in the Captain's office, all the while trying to bite and claw and punch his way to his best friend. His only friend.

That outburst, Varian figured, was what sealed his fate to be housed down in the deepest levels and to be restrained by not only his wrists, but his ankles as well.

The slightly rusted metal bands bit into his skin, already starting to chaff his joints, and jingled loudly at every movement. It was a jolt to his heart every time he heard them, for it served not only as a reminder to his failures, but also as a reminder to the monster he had let himself become.

Almost fondly Varian let himself reflect on how everything was just fine and dandy before the princess had come a-knocking on his lab, and more importantly, before she started meddling in whatever magic that brought her hair back and the black rocks with it.

He'd take any close call with his hot water heaters, with his new and improved farming methods, and any other "destructive" alchemy compound paired with the disappointed and confused looks from his father on a daily basis as opposed to where he and his father both were now.

"If you are to let me rot, then at least let me do so at my father's feet! Sleepless nights and prison grub I will endure for the rest of my life in this leaky cell here if I am able to release my father. Please. That's all I ask. He should not be allowed to suffer any more than I have already made him!" Varian had pleaded with the guards that visited him that night as they had brought a small tray of rice and the scum from the bottom of the soup pot for dinner.

Anger had swelled deep within Varian's heart at the guard's refusal to even acknowledge that he had spoken, had begged like the low life he was, to them.

"Please! Please! I can't, I can't stomach the thought of there still being possibilities and secrets and weaknesses to the amber that I can't act on! Just give me some equipment, or something to write with! You can watch me all day and night if you must but I have to continue my work!" He had shouted down the hallway to the guards, who disappeared around the corner and into the shadows without a backward glance.

His heart-wrenching cry of anguish he knew could be heard by any others on the above floors as he kicked the bowls of his meager morsels and sent them flying onto the floor and wall on the other side of his cell.

His stomach rumbled in response to his impulsive reaction, even though he told himself that hunger would be a common feeling for the duration of his stay. Food, he had then figured, wasn't fit for him. Wasn't fit for a wanna-be son.

He had then dejectedly retreated back to his corner, which he had barely moved from as he let silent tears of guilt and shame and sorrow and anger flow freely for what seemed like hours. Sleep, Varian reasoned that night, would only be a slight possibility with the savage evil churning deep in his gut and wringing out his bleeding heart.

Cross-posted on Archive of Our Own under the same pen name.