Varian x Reader Oneshots

The Mystery Man

WARNINGS:  slight swearing (damn)

This is going to be at least a two part story, I think. By the way, (Y/N) and Freckles here (who could that be, I wonder?) are about 24 ish; ten years since the Battle of Old Corona. Rapunzel has just turned 29, Cassandra is 33, and Eugene is 37. Lance is... well like 38? I dunno Lance's age.

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You rubbed the side of your glass, deep in thought. You were hardly paying attention to your surroundings, the bustling of party-goers overwhelming. Eugene - famous for his exuberant ideas - had decided it would be a good idea to throw a masquerade ball for Rapunzel's birthday. And, you had to admit, it wasn't one of his worse ideas. In fact, the party seemed to be lively and the guests seemed to be having a good time. It's just... you weren't.

Parties weren't really your scene, but Cassandra had dragged you along, saying that if she had to attend in a fancy dress, so did you. Which made no sense, whatsoever.

You absent-mindedly scratched underneath your mask, which was a deep shade of red, swirling, yellow patterns taking up most of the surface. It covered the left side of your face, but stopped just above your mouth. Your dress matched the mask, and you had to admit it was pretty.

It was the same shade of red as your mask, and gave the impression that you were floating, even though the hem stopped about halfway between your knees and your feet. Yellow engulfed the bottom, transitioning into the overall colour, and came out of your waist, where it was synched inwards. It was tight, uncomfortable, and impractical, but hey at least it looked good, right?

You glanced around, and spotted Rapunzel, in all her queenly glory, spinning around on her own in the centre of the dance floor. You laughed a little bit, and shook your head. Only her.

See, the problem with this party was that it was just so mind-numbingly boring, because no one had approached you all night. Maybe that was due to the fact that you were leant against the wall at the back of the ballroom, and hadn't interacted with anyone at all. But, as you said, parties weren't really your thing. Neither were people, to be perfectly honest. You swirled the purple liquid in your cup, and placed it down on a table next to you. No way were you getting drunk.

"Fun party, huh?" Someone said from beside you, causing you to jump slightly. You looked over at the stranger, scowling a little bit.

"Splendid," you retorted, brushing off your dress and crossing your arms. He raised his eyebrows.

Mister Mystery - or whatever his name was - was wearing a white shirt with a dark blue overcoat. It was neither glamourous, nor expensive, but hey, at least it was practical (unlike yours). You had to admit though, the simplicity of it looked good on him. The top half of his face was covered with a light blue mask, a crescent moon and stars dancing in one corner. His nose was freckled, from what you could see, and his eyes were the same blue as the mask. His hair was black and messy, a single teal strip going through it. He was tall and slim, and radiated an aura of moodiness. And strapped around his ankle was a knife, covered in a sheath the same colour as his trousers.

You looked at him.

"Is that a knife?" You asked, and his top lip raised slightly in humour.

"Would you believe me if I said no?" He retorted, and you stared at him, not quite sure what to think. You decided to play ball, I mean, how dangerous could he be?

You stuck your hand out.

"The name's (Y/N)," you introduced, and the man shook your hand firmly. You waited.