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unorthodoxfaithxx · 2 months

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Andy Yandere Headcannons

Been in love with Undead Unluck lately, and Andy and Fuuko’s dynamic is so funny it hurts. So what would Andy be like if he was a yandere?

Andy can’t die, no matter what. It’s been his dream to finally rest in peace, but after accidentally bumping into you on a street, his whole perspective changed. Maybe being undead isn’t so bad after all, if it means he can spend eternity with you.

Andy is the total protective type. Cooking? Let him handle the sharp cutlery. Going out? Let him tag along to protect you from any brutes. If he’s on a mission? You’re absolutely staying behind, and if you have to tag along you can bet your ass he’s next to you 24/7.

He’s super touchy too. He loves holding you in his arms, holding hands, wrapping his arm across your shoulder, and giving warm hugs. He won’t admit it, but having you close to him always has his heart go crazy. You’re like a drug he can’t get enough of. His reason to live after having none for so long.

If you’d let him, he wouldn’t mind going all the way with you.

Not really the jealous type. He’s confident no one can bring you happiness like he can, and if he has any rivals — hey, he can just take care of ‘em, can’t he? He’s strong for a reason.

If he sees you with another guy though or a girl too friendly with you, you can bet your ass he’ll be grilling you about who they are, how you know them, and what they are to you. If he doesn’t like what he hears? You’re in for a doozy. He’s lived longer than you have so he knows the true nature of people. Anyone he deems unsafe to be around, you can’t hang out with.

He’s so loud and brash, you frankly can’t ignore him. Try to give him the silent treatment and he’ll just kidnap you and hold you hostage in his arms until you give. He doesn’t play that way.

Definitely a stalker, but real conspicuous about it. He knows where you live, where you work, who your family is, what your hobbies are. He’ll straight up tell you he’s planted a tracker on your phone (for protective reasons) and that he’s installed security cameras around and inside your house. Ya know, for safety. Can’t have you getting kidnapped now.

#yandere drabble #male yandere #yandere male #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere x reader #yandere writing #undead unluck #andy #yandere #yandere headcanons

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skullvgirl · 1 month

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boys who tell you to dress inappropriately when going out together, who tell you not to worry about creeps or freaks because—have you seen the size of their arms?? >>

who tell you its gonna be alright and that whatever the problem is that caused you to be upset in the first place can be fixed >>

but only in two ways:

one, he gets to suck it till your purple and blue or two you tell him the address of the offender before he finds it himself >>

boys who loom over your shoulder menacenly as you talk to litterally anyone, who is always pressed up against you, hand in your back pocket, lightly kneading the fat >>

sighhhhh

BAROU, andy, baki, PICKLE, UVOGIN, and tengen probably .

+ your favs ofc

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isu-desu · 6 months

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Daily Andy! Day (17/100)

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spinningwebsandtales · 29 days

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Imagine Cheering Up A Depressed Andy

(Slight) Andy X FemReader

Ratings: T+

Warnings: Drinking, insults, mentions of death, slight spoilers

Word Count: 1.7k

(A/N:) I am obsessed with Undead Unluck right now and I had to write a self indulgent Andy fic! I do ship him and Fuuko really hard but Andy is too perfect not to crush on. So while I have a ship I still want to enjoy some reader inserts with this handsome and unhinged dude! So this happened as I was so excited about a little of Andy's past getting animated! I had a little too much fun with the dialog too but I hope you all enjoy it! Until next time happy reading!

~Countess

Being a bounty hunter had it's perks though it was one of the toughest jobs offered in the growing country you live in. You had met your fair share of folks and about took out as many as well. The types of people you hunted, weren't like the upstanding citizens in normal towns you passed through. So they really weren't missed and kept their would be victims safe another day. You had just gotten finished with a particularly large bounty, so after collecting your reward you made the decision that you deserved a much needed break. Heading over to the next town, you carved yourself a place for the next two weeks or more.

After a week into your relaxation a stranger blew into town you never met before. He was a quiet character and it seemed like trouble drew to him like flies to a carcass. He was aloof and refused to speak much. Questions were answered with simple answers and he never gave more information than necessary. Even renting a room in the tavern/inn you were occupying had become awkward as he refused to answer the majority of the owner's questions. Only made worse when he was a coin short of the payment to stay. Without a word you dug into the pockets of your well worn pants before flipping it to the owner with amazing accuracy. He pocketed the man's payment quickly and the stranger turned around taking in your feminine form as you downed the rest of your glass and tipped your hat. Standing from the chair you made your way up the stairs, ignoring the jeers from the men below, your curiosity piquing the more you stayed close to the gray haired man.

A few more days passed by and still the gray haired stranger occupied the same space as you. He kept his distance, though he acted indifferent you could tell he watched his surroundings with an attentive gaze. The card in his forehead was a mystery that was driving you crazy. And even though the numerous tavern girls seemed to flock to him, he had no interest. The only thing he seemed to enjoy was the brawls that would break out, the majority of the time it was men starting arguments with him. The fights didn't last long and he always came out on top. He didn't joke. He didn't laugh. He rarely said a word. And despite yourself you found yourself sitting closer and closer to him every night. He was a mystery and you could feel the sad loneliness rolling off of him in waves. You should have ended your reprieve then and there. Left town and went back to what you were good at. But something deep inside nagged at you. You couldn't leave this man alone and part of you dreaded that you were going to pay a steep price for your curiosity.

The next night after finishing your meal, you went to the bar ordering two drinks and paying for them. The heavy glasses not the only weight as your heavy heart pounded in your chest. The enigma of the man sitting in his normal spot, pushing around the scraps on his plate. He didn't even jump or look up as you thudded the glass before him. After a few seconds, you cleared your throat, loudly. You didn't take kindly to being ignored, especially when you were doing a good deed. Those were rare and if this man had any sense he would be grateful.

He looked up, blue eyes dull and full of caution. It made you suck in a breath as he looked handsome far away, but up close he was stunning.

"Drink," you asked and he grunted in reply. Knocking the chair at his side back with your boot, you parked yourself right next to him throwing your slender legs up and crossing your ankles on the table top. Knocking your glass against his hard, you took a loud long guzzle. You sighed before gazing at him, waiting for the same.

"Not very ladylike are you," he asked simply.

You shrugged, "Not particularly. Can't afford to be in my line of work. Are you going to drink that or not? I paid for it and I won't let it go to waste."

He chuckled, though the mirth didn't make it to his eyes. He finally picked up the glass giving it a healthy swig.

"Good boy," you cooed and he glared.

"You buy drinks for men often?"

"Nope," you picked at your nails. "Even sad puppy dog eyed men get ignored by me. So you should feel very special. You tugged on my dried up heartstrings."

"They're not that dry then," he scoffed.

"Keep talking and that beer will disappear."

"Yeah," he took another drink. "Down my throat anyway."

You glared harder taking your feet off the table to lean in closer, "I may just shove that glass down your throat too while I'm at it."

He bared his teeth, "I'd like to see you try."

You shot upwards, snarling at him before quicker than a flash, he hooked his foot on your chair leg tugging it forward. The sturdy wood hit the back of your knees, crashing you back down into the seat. You sat stunned for a moment, unused to people gaining the upper hand on you.

"Simmer down I was joking," he rolled his eyes. "Whatever you do for a living sure did take your sense of humor."

"And here I thought the sad washed up sap no longer had one," you retorted quickly.

"I may be lost in thought but I can keep up with the best of them," his gaze darted back to you. "Just remember that."

A few tense moments passed by and the patrons that had watched the exchange between you both, started to relax. Even the owner had been tense as he didn't want his establishment wrecked by a fight between the two of you. With your glass empty, you stood to go get another one, when his hand wrapped around your wrist. Pouring the rest of the liquid that remained in his glass into yours. You sat there stunned at the kindness.

"I've had enough," he shrugged.

Your finger circled around the smudged rim as you now didn't know how to act around him. Many people didn't treat you nicely and if they did they always wanted something or take advantage of you.

"Got a name," you finally asked the curiosity not leaving you alone.

"No."

"Where you from?"

"Don't know."

"Well you're just a well of knowledge. Good chat," you rolled your eyes. "Guess I'll just call you bigmouth."

"Please. Don't."

"What," you grinned deviously, "do you prefer idiot? Maybe moron? Boring?"

"I get it," he waved a large hand.

You pouted thinking that would have gotten a rise out of him.

"Just call me Vic," he replied confused where he pulled that name from his mind.

"I think I rather call you bigmouth," you stated.

"Don't care."

Crossing your arms while slumping in the seat, you were starting to get annoyed for the lack of progress. The longer you spoke to Vic, the more your curiosity grew instead of shrinking.

"Soooo wanna share why you got such a long face over here," you asked.

"I rather not," he seemed to shrink further into his shell.

"Fine. I'll tell you something about myself first and then you have to at least give me something."

Vic shook his head but waved for you to continue. He remained quiet letting you have a moment of victory as you wouldn't let up until you got some bit of information from him.

"I'm a bounty hunter," you showed him the badge that normally hung between your breasts under your shirt. "Been all over this country and taken out many criminals. Been needing a break so I've been staying here."

Vic nodded, "I've been travelling myself. Taking out my own class of criminals with my team."

"Where is your team," you asked and immediately regretted it as he stiffened.

He looked away, emotion clogging up his throat a little bit, "They're dead. They were killed thanks to a barmaid who saved herself. I was the only one who survived."

That was one of the main reasons you refused to recruit on your missions. You didn't want to lose anyone and it was hard for you to get along with others very often."

"Sorry to hear that."

He shrugged again, "So I rather travel alone. It hurts less."

"That's the main reason I travel alone. Nobody to mourn and if I get turned into bird food. Then nobody is around to mourn me either."

"That's a sad existence," he replied.

"You chose the same existence as me," you pointed out, laughing into your mug.

He chuckled and this time the amusement made it's way to his eyes, "I guess I did. But it doesn't mean I don't make friends along the way."

"Are you calling me a friend there Vic?"

"We're drinking together aren't we," he pointed to the two mugs.

"I think I'm doing the majority of the drinking here," you said matter-of-factly.

Without another word Vic gave the owner the sign for two more drinks. He nodded getting to work filling two more glasses.

"My hero," you cooed kissing his cheek quickly. Vic sat there stunned for a few moments. You grinned smugly as you felt like you got some revenge for the seat ordeal he just pulled moments ago. Despite never trusting easily, you found yourself comfortable around Vic. He still had so many things left to uncover and you knew as soon as your time was up in town, you both would go your separate ways. But for this night and the last moments you and him would enjoy each other's company. Vic watched you closely and despite telling himself not to get close, he couldn't keep that promise to himself. You were too fascinating to him and he felt himself falling. Needing to know more, needing to get closer. He knew that it would end and that would be that, but for these quiet and blissful moments he would allow himself a chance to enjoy something good and fun. Until he was finally able to find his purpose or he found the death he craved. He hoped to find more people like you through his long journey, but this was your chance and you both wouldn't squander it.

#Andy X Reader #Andy / Reader #Undead Andy X Reader #Undead Andy / Reader #Undead Unluck #Andy Imagine #Undead Unluck Imagine #Imagine #My Writing

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cantsomeoneelsedoit · 2 months

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Undead Unluck Theory

So I've been reading Undead Unluck since the beginning, but I haven't actually ever joined the fandom, (i.e., the contents of this blog may be Old News to everyone and/or everyone hates it and I just didn't realize...) but I was showing the anime to a friend and trying to explain my UU theory, so I googled and couldn't find anyone who had laid out something like this. If it already exists, apologies, but this is my version of what UU is all about.

Undead Unluck is a story about writing.

Spoilery things ahead!

The most important thing to know about Undead Unluck is that it's a story-within-a-story. An embedded narrative. Our characters are stock archetypes who are barely on the cusp of learning that they are in a story.

The main story outline stays the same as the author goes through various iterations and edits (aka Loops), testing out new ideas and often scrapping them. Characters evolve into different versions of themselves as the author edits. Our settings are varied as if the author were trying to fit all kinds of different genres into one story. AND THEY ARE!

Suggested listening, btw:

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The Author, AKA God, adds variables to the story in the form of rules.

For example, a children's book about a goldfish has no need to mention that there is an entire galaxy of stars in the sky. The goldfish doesn't need to know. The readers don't care. It's irrelevant. That rule can be omitted from a story.

When the author changes the story, for instance, to make the story about a goldfish who goes into outer space, suddenly they need to add the concept of a galaxy, along with all the ancillary ideas (i.e., UFOs).

With their pencil eraser or backspace button, the author changes the reality for ALL of the characters in the work, so that the existence of outer space becomes a Known Thing in-universe. No biggie. It's always been that way, as far as they know. The instant the author changes something, it's done.

This Hand of God kind of author appears in other ways, like the way the Union members arrive via a crack in the sky. They literally fall from the sky like characters in the Barbie movie.

The crack in the sky is a wall-break, but it's not the fourth wall that's broken. It's the wall between the author and the characters!

Remember that cartoon where Daffy Duck argues with the animator's hand? Characters are just playthings for the author. They can be dressed up or imperiled just because.

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When you begin to read UU from this perspective, some characters seem more sentient than others.

The characters are tired of being screwed over. They're tired of suffering. They're tired of being tested for no reason. Can't God just give them an easy life? Do all characters hate their authors this much?

Ragnarok is when the author effectively overturns the dollhouse and starts a new story with the same characters, settings, and themes, but adding the kind of slight variations that an author's idle mind might create. The basic "frame" of the dollhouse remains, but we can try out new scenarios like:

"What if X met Y in another time or place?"

"How would X be different if they'd grown up in a harsher or easier environment?"

"What if X was a villain?"

And so the author begins again, pitting their characters in new situations to observe and see how they react. Authors love that shit. Just look at all the ask blogs on tumblr!

Authors enjoy looking at their characters from new perspectives. Even the bad ones! Many times, an author has had a character (say...Victor) in their imagination for a long time, but the character evolves into a slightly different version of themselves (Andy). It's natural to want to keep both versions of this character. And since this is the author's dollhouse, they can do whatever they want, even if this confuses and disturbs Andy/Victor.

Victor and Juiz are, I think, God's starter OCs. Their story is one of seriousness, mystery, and a romance with unresolved tension. They want to be together; we want them to be together; but the author won't let them be happy because keeping that tension burning is what makes the story good. Of course they had a falling out! Of course they're eternally separated in a tragic and beautiful way. After all, they were the main characters for a long time.

You're probably saying, "This theory can't work because we've SEEN God! We've seen Luna!" My idea is that Luna and God are two aspects of the author.

God (Sun) as the author as a writer: Makes brutal changes, can delete everything, loves to start over and test the characters in different environments, never satisfied with the ending.

God wants to make things HARDER for the characters because they are trying to write an interesting shonen story.

God (Luna) as the author as a reader: Authors also like to sit back and read their own works. Sometimes they have a nice cup of tea with them. The tea signifies that Luna is acting as a reader.

Luna, as a reader, has gotten attached to the characters. They want them to succeed. They are trying to make things EASIER for the characters bc they're emotionally invested in the story. Luna also keeps the memories of past rough drafts in the form of artifacts that can be used to bring back discarded story elements.

I don't think either Sun nor Luna truly understand that our characters are capable of suffering, btw.

Luna and God are in a competition with themselves, just like the internal struggle of an author as they want to:

Create an interesting story that will be a success. To get the story "right" and fully explore all the possibilities

but also

2. Just have fun with the characters and help them reach the end of the story.

Killing God means finding a final end to the story so that the characters can have a stable existence. The characters can achieve this by resisting the author's attempts to rewrite.

So, that's the gist of my insanity. I have a bit more in the drafts if anyone is interested in hearing more. I would enjoy doing a read-through blog someday, but I thought I might test the waters with my theory first.

#Undead Unluck #crack theory #fan theory #drops crazy post and disappears forever #but I really think there's something to this

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