Yandere Toons x Reader: An Anthology of Headcanons and Scenarios

Daisy Duck (Platonic Scenario - "Dances with Daisies")

TW: Emotional Manipulation, Guilt-Tripping, Violence, Mentions of Blood/Bruising, Mentions of Alcohol (Wine).

A.N. - Daisy has swiftly become one of my favourite characters, and this idea found me during a 1920s swing binge.

Airy giggles resounded in the recesses of the lonesome twilight as two figures dashed from a glittering golden doorway, the hinges squealing like a panicked hog before slamming shut with the tug of a waft. The realm of electric heating clashed with the frigid breeze but was ultimately parried by the latter's frozen breaths. The raw force expressed no reluctance to nibble on any exposed flesh, forming minuscule icicles and embedding them in your clothes. Despite the ravenous chill draining the vitality of the air, your intertwined hands remained a beacon of warmth.

The duck behind you released a mirthful cackle she had been suppressing until the scathing stares of the aristocracy vacated her form. "I can't believe we just did that," she exhaled, pressing her fingertips to the edge of her beak and lowering her gaze to the sidewalk. The excitement and abysmal temperature had her blood pumping and prompted a rosy veil to swell within her cheeks. Eyes crinkled, she cast a frisky smile upon you and quipped, "How could you let me do this?"

Daisy's black heels clacked against the concrete sidewalk like the hooves of a trotting steed as you staggered to a stop under the glow of an adjacent streetlight. Her hair bow had slackened during the chaos and teetered on the side of her head, bouncing forward and flattening a clump of coiffed plumage when she bumped into your back. While you stumbled a few steps ahead and spun around with a playful glare, the duck pressed a hand to her mouth and proceeded to guffaw.

You shot her an impish smile. "Let you do it? I'm just an innocent bystander. You're the criminal mastermind who threw the punch." Daisy feigned indignance and shoved your shoulder before turning her gaze upon the entrance to the cabaret.

Her smile began to dip into a pensive frown, posture drooping and elation withdrawing like a listless breath. She pinched her forehead before slowly dragging a hand down her face. An embarrassed groan rumbled through her throat as she muttered, "I need to go back in there and apologize." The duck spared a doleful glance at your intertwined hands and relinquished her grip with visible hesitancy.

You had outstretched a hand and taken a step forth when a throng of disgruntled partygoers and their escorts spilled from the door, swathed in extravagant suits and gowns. Varying degrees of scorn and fury littered their faces, and the sight of the two of you conjured numerous, enraged wails.

A green parrot rushed to the front of the crowd, clutching handfuls of her purple costume and thrusting forward the dark splotches staining the fabric. "Why don't I ruin your dress," she shrieked, earning an aghast scowl from Daisy.

The duck pressed her hands against the sides of her pink frock as if protecting it before clenching her fists and marching towards the bird.

When a hulking Rottweiler materialized behind the parrot, you lunged ahead to grasp Daisy's forearm and gave it a cautious tug. She paused and shot you a look of surprise before peering at the nobles with a suspicious frown.

Their gales of disdain, coupled with your intention of fleeing, gradually wore a hole in her rage.

The possibility of vengeful bodyguards and indignant party patrons pursuing you prompted a swift detour to the outskirts of the town, wherein you arrived at the foot of a bridge overlooking a river.