Yandere Toons x Reader: An Anthology of Headcanons and Scenarios

Gandra Dee (Platonic Scenario - "Blue Ribbon")

TW: Implied Second-Degree Burns, Smoke Inhalation, Implied Death, Emotional Manipulation, Implied Past Bullying (not by Gandra), Toxic Mindsets.

A.N. - "A real scientist always gets results."

Gandra pushed you towards the school with an enthusiastic chuckle. "Go! How're you supposed to show everyone up from out here?"

You stumbled forward, experiment pressed to your chest, and turned your head to look at her. A wave of apprehension blended with a hint of sadness. "You sure you don't want to come?"

The scientist narrowed her eyes in playful objection and crossed her arms, sporting a determined smile. "No way. I've had enough fairs to last me until graduation." The prospect of facing the captious eyes of another judge conjured a flicker of discontent, drawing its fuel from buried experiences she did not wish to recall.

A raucous honk reverberated through the yard, and the two of you spotted a young pig marching down the stone path to the door. She carried a large sheet of white cardboard with a miniature volcano sitting on top. Bottles of vinegar and baking soda peeked out of a brown satchel looped around her left shoulder, rattling along with the farewells of her parents.

Gandra stared at the pig, an unfamiliar malice brewing in her gut. Her eyes tapered to slits as she clenched her teeth. "Tammy Jenkins." Memories of throwing inventions in the trash bin during a fit of tears bombarded her mind, fists beginning to quiver. The venomous criticisms of indignant judges mashed with Tammy cheering for her undeserved victories formed a cacophony of mockery. Gandra dug her fingertips into her palms and turned away, wishing to quell the discordant voices that had come to mimic the static of a busted radio.

"Gandra?"

The scientist flinched at your concerned tone. Eyes widening, she pressed a hand to her chest and shuddered from the palpitations battering her ribs like the hull of a ship caught in a hurricane. The waves of unwanted vulnerability and the stinging of old wounds made anew summoned a flush to her face. She glanced at you in a mixture of worry and embarrassment, head bowing and hand clutching the front of her shirt. "Yeah, I'm good."

Her confirmation was strained, but the anxious expression permeating her gaze suggested that now was not the time to dig for answers.

* * *

A blade of grass swayed between Gandra's fingers as she sat on the ground outside the school, legs crossed and arms propped against the patch of dirt behind her. She reclined with an idle sigh and blinked as a weak breeze lifted the tips of her brown hair before renouncing its grasp. A distant scratching spurred the chicken to peer over her shoulder.

You staggered out the entrance, your dazed and disheartened grimace emulating someone who had wagered all their money on a risky bet and lost.

The brief elation that fluttered in Gandra vanished as if it were a thumb pressed to the flame of a candle. Dread clenched her chest, and she sprang to her feet. A degree of haste infected her breaths as she jogged to a halt in front of you. "How'd it go?" She feared the answer but clung to the feeble hope that her analysis was mistaken.

Your eyes drifted to Gandra, airing your woes in a slow, flat murmur. “I’ve been disqualified.”

Gandra clenched her fists and scowled, eyes crinkling in dismay. "They can't do that!" Her voice carried a degree of anguish that was soon overtaken by wrath. "You threw away your whole week for this stupid fair!" She swung her arms and stamped her foot on the grass, gaze flickering towards the school. "The least they could do is give you a chance." A growl escaped the chicken as she spun around and shouted, "Why is that so difficult?!"