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#so nostalgic looking back at the lucky luke posts i made when i was literally 14-15. insane
transngin · 10 months
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this might be random but do you have any headcanons of the Daltons/lucky luke cause now they are my hyperfixation and yes I've joined a pretty much dead fandom but I was to hear your thoughts.
(only if u want to ofc)
hiiii anon its been. so insanely long since ive thought abt lucky luke and the daltons rotated them in my small brain but i love looove them as a characters so very dearly to this day and id be more than happy to give u. some of my carefully thought out (brainrot induced) thoughts :]
- JOE ADHD KING. no but seriously this fucking guy is so nd and mentally ill in so many ways. hes collecting them like cool rocks (<- im nd and mentally ill (obviously) and have always related to him)
- i know the entire thing abt the daltons is how theyre only distinguished from each other when it comes to height but i love playing around w the idea that they have like. subtle differences in their appearance that you wont notice unless you squint and use a telescope. like william having heterochromia, jack having freckles and joe having beauty marks and whatnot (cant think of anything for averell when it comes to this trope sorry </3)
- aroacespec gay lucky luke is so real and true and my alltime fave sexuality hc. also a little transgenderism for him as a treat. sometimes
- adding to the former: luke telling ppl he got his diy top surgery scars from a brutal shootout
- i dont like the modern daltons cartoon (it kinda sucks) but i really really like how they characterized william in it (bookworm and man of many talents iirc) and i really like the idea of him potentially being a graduate/of higher education but sticking with his brothers out of loyalty/peer pressure (<- potential for him to be the black sheep of his family and give him more character than in the comics and the old cartoons)
- luke and joe's archnemesis relationship oh my GOD [head in hands] ive always loved the multiple layers of their dynamic and the "cool hero who loves toying with the bad guy" vs "batshit crazy unhinged small guy villain" thing they always got going on. lukejoe is so good whether its platonically or romantically or anything in between i still care them so much. funny guys who hate each other fight each other are friends are besties are outlaws kiss kill each other have repressed homosexual feelings have never had friends before killed people with no remorse and have issues. i like that in men
- t4t lukejoe is. so good. perfection
- while im a professional les daltons #hater i love that one guy who showed up for like one episode and was never brought up again except in the bg of some episodes. unlucky luke (small dark haired manloser) if youre out there...
- el gee bee tee hc lightning round:
cis bi (sometimes transmasc) joe [wtf is a pronoun i will kill you], transhet jack [he/him], nonbiney [he/him] william, unlabeled averell [he/she + any] and ofc aroace gay trans luke [he/they]. idc abt other characters enough to form opinions on them
- ill most definitely add to this later if and when i start binging the entirety of ll again but for now. thats all. come get your food lucky luke enjoyers <3 shoutout to the three of you who still enjoy this media despite its many many MANY flaws
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[The following ask is just an attempt on my, Winter's, part to exploit a quirk in tumblr's code that keeps formatting from copy/pasted items when answering an ask on desktop as opposed to making a text post.]
MC is a Phoenix and Child of a Famous Magic User
A slightly modified request fill for @guardianoftheunderworld090! This ended up getting away from me a bit, and by a bit I mean a lot so uhhh Oops! Because of that, I didn’t end up doing the dateables+Luke, so apologies! But this is already probably wayyyyy off from the original request anyway.
Again, oopsie :3
Content Warnings: Temporary character death, spoilers for Lesson 16+, brief implication of immolation (but not really bc, y’know, phoenix), mild-to-moderate blood and injuries/violence
As soon as they learned their name, everyone knew of MC. While not quite on Solomon or the great witch Maddi’s level, their parents had made quite the name for themselves in the magical community. Their pre-existing knowledge of magic and the supernatural was therefore completely expected.
Less so was what happened when they died.
Mammon had been cradling their body when it happened, still too stunned to react to his smug younger brother gloating about taking out such a fragile, weak creature. The entire House of Lamentation was in shock: MC, the human they had come to cherish, was bleeding out right in front of their eyes and there was nothing they could do to stop it.
The Avatar of Greed’s breath hitched as he felt their pulse fade, watched the rise and fall of their chest cease…
And then he screamed as MC’s body burst into flames. They were scorching hot, but left no marks on him nor the surrounding area. On instinct, Beelzebub darted forward to pull Mammon away from the inferno, his protests weakened by surprise and grief. Belphegor was knocked backwards off his feet by the force of the flames, and they all watched as the fire raged on, until it began to take on a recognizable shape.
Not of MC, but of a brightly coloured flaming bird.
The phoenix cocked its head to the side, as though assessing its surroundings, eyes passing over each of the frozen brothers before rounding on Belphegor. It shrieked, puffed up feathers interspersed with jets of flame, and charged the youngest with its sharp beak and talons bared.
And suddenly it was no longer a bird.
“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” MC yelled as they continued to slash at Belphie. A large pair of bright flaming wings arched behind their back, threatening to torch anything they touched. “I LITERALLY RISKED THE WRATH OF LUCIFER FOR WEEKS TO HELP YOUR SORRY ASS GET OUT OF THAT ATTIC AND THIS IS HOW YOU THANK ME?! WITH MURDER?!”
Blood pooled in Belphie’s mouth from a particularly nasty slash across his lip. He spit to the side before replying, “In my defense, most people stay dead when you kill them!”
“THAT’S ALL YOU HAVE TO—”
“...MC?” Levi said, voice small. “I-Is that really you…?” His tail swished behind him anxiously.
MC turned their attention to the rest of the brothers (one set of talons still embedded in Belphie’s leg, in case he had thoughts of running).
Beel was stock still, eyes pointed ahead but staring at something beyond the room. Asmo was crying silently, though his expression was neutral and wide eyed. The gears in Satan’s head were visibly turning even as he shredded the sleeves of his shirt with his claws. Mammon was misty eyed, with such an open expression of love and want and hurt that it made them want to cry as well. And Lucifer… The Avatar of Pride’s usual mask of stony superiority had crumbled into something lost and broken.
They looked back to Belphegor, who clutched at his leg, his own tears threatening to spill from his eyes. They slowly remove their talons from his leg and face the group, folding their wings inward until they regain their humanoid form.
“I guess I have a bit of explaining to do, huh.”
Lucifer
Too many things have happened so fast, he doesn’t even know how to respond.
Not only has MC apparently been having secret meetings with Belphegor, not only are the pacts they’ve made with his brothers just tools to free him, not only did Belphegor then betray them and attempt to kill them, but they’re also… A phoenix?!
Distantly, hysterically, he thinks, how in the three realms is that not on their file?
“Oh, I’m also not technically from this timel-”
Lucifer shushes them. He can’t deal with any other reveals right now.
Once… everything is dealt with, he allows himself to be curious about MC’s origins.
Have they always been this way? Were they adopted by their parents, a familiar given human form, or had something gone wrong one day with a spell?
He’ll never ask them though. He knows origins can be touchy subjects.
He grounds himself in the practical. Does MC know how to control their abilities? Are their needs being met? Are there any additional accommodations they require?
Sometimes, when their wings are out, he can’t help but be reminded of the similarly fiery wings of the seraphim from home the Celestial Realm and feel nostalgic.
His more possessive side also relishes the fact that they share a connection through association with birds, especially considering how some varieties of phoenixes tend to resemble peacocks.
It must be difficult for them to preen those large wings, do they need any help? No, it’s not that he wants to, don’t be ridiculous. But if they ever want his help...
Mammon
Once the initial shock of “holy shit the love of my life just BURST INTO FLAMES IN MY ARMS” fades, he’s just happy MC’s alive and well.
But he does put on a front of being upset that they never told him about their nature.
“Stupid hu— uhhh, phoenix, I worried for nothin’! Wait, no, I wasn’t worried at all—”
“Sure you weren’t,” MC retorts with a smile.
Seriously though, why didn’t they tell him? He’s their guardian, their First, he should know these things!
Do they think he’ll… try and take advantage of them because of their powers? He’d never!
Okay, maybe when they first met he might have considered it, but not now! Not now that he…
One night, Mammon and MC are up late watching some terrible Devildom romcom. MC has long since fallen asleep, and one of their enormous wings is draped over Mammon, pinning him in place.
The flames interspersed amongst their feathers are short and glow only dimly, like dying embers. Occasionally, a few will flare slightly or twitch as though a breeze has blown by.
“...I was really scared, you know,” he murmurs to their sleeping form. “I really thought you were gone. And I realized at that moment that I… I can’t lose you. I love you so much MC. You’re worth more to me than anything else in the Devildom, than anything in all the three realms. Please don’t scare me like that ever again…”
MC doesn’t stir, but the flames on their wing follow Mammon’s hand as he pets the warm feathers. They’re only pleasantly warm, with a smooth, silky texture to them.
He snuggles closer to them and drifts off himself, comforted by the heat of their body, human and avian anatomy alike.
Leviathan
Levi cannot believe his luck. He finally gets himself a friend he can really trust, and then his younger brother (who was trapped in an attic by the way, NOT in the human world like Lucifer said, because oh yeah, also Lucifer’s a liar) kills them, and now they’re—
It’s too much to process at once. All he can latch onto is that’s them, right? That’s really his MC, his Henry, the one person outside of his family who doesn’t dismiss him as some gross shut-in?
Once he’s assured himself that they’re safe, he’s immediately hit with the rest of the surprises to process. He hugs MC tightly against himself, whether to protect them from Belphegor or himself from… everything, is anyone’s guess.
It takes a long time for Levi’s newfound clinginess to dissipate. He refuses to let MC be alone around Belphegor under any circumstances, even if it means leaving his room more than he’s comfortable with.
In this time, he learns a lot about MC.
He learns that they seek to cool off the same way he seeks out warmth, and that this makes them excellent cuddling partners. He learns that they let out very adorable chirps of squawks when caught off guard.
He learns the hard way that a phoenix in love is a fire hazard.
But he also learns that he’d risk every item in his collection to see MC’s radiant smile.
Satan
Set the phoenix thing aside, Satan thinks to himself as he rushes over to inspect MC for injuries. Set it aside.
Once he’s sure they are unharmed, he turns his attention to Belphegor.
The Avatar of Sloth is lucky MC got to him first. Satan wouldn’t have stopped at a warning strike. Belphie knows from the murderous glare shot his way that it is only the presence of the others that’s stopping Satan from taking his revenge.
His fingers linger in their wings. MC’s feathers are all out of sorts, but there are no bald patches indicating any serious burns or other wounds. Still, Satan cards through them carefully, checking and double checking for any signs of damage. MC fidgets under his attention.
“Uh, Satan?” They’re blushing. “That kinda tickles.”
“Oh! Oh, um, sorry, I was just— you’re okay, right?”
They let out a small laugh and bop him gently with a wing. “Everything’s in working order, don’t worry.”
“That’s— Good, that’s uh, that’s great.”
“...Go ahead, you dork,” MC prompts with a smile. He blinks at them owlishly. “Ask your questions!”
He does, over the course of the next couple of weeks, in between therapeutic pranks against a certain youngest brother.
Asmodeus
As MC is born again from flame, Asmo learns the true horror of love.
He had always been the one to invoke passion in others: to seduce loyal partners and drive others mad with desire, to twist their love into lust and unleash its destructive potential. Despite this, he never really understood the feeling himself, why something as ephemeral as a feeling could drive humans to such extremes.
But seeing MC wounded and bloody, watching the light in their eyes dim, the Avatar of Lust had felt the call of blood and rage and grief and love for the first time. And watching MC dust themself off as they explain their unique heritage, Asmo realizes that those feelings would have destroyed him. He would have done anything and everything to bring MC back to him, given up any part of himself just to see them one more time.
So forgive him, MC, if his movements ever slow to a stop while preening your wings. If he sometimes stares at you with awe, or holds you tight enough to bruise.
His heart has never been anyone’s but his before, and he is so very afraid of getting burned.
Beelzebub & Belphegor
Oh this is Not bringing up good memories at all.
Something about seeing MC and Belphegor, bloody with the scent of fire and death in the air jumbles his senses and suddenly they’re not in the House of Lamentation but the battlefield and she’s been struck down, he was too slow, he chose his twin over his sister can he live with that? Can any of them? She’s falling she’s falling and he’s falling and they’re going to—
When he snaps back into awareness, Beel is restraining a hissing and spitting MC as they scratch and claw at him to get to Belphegor, the one wing Beel didn’t manage to pin down flapping about erratically.
Their movements only stop when they feel hot tears on their back. MC calms down and shifts more gently in Beelzebub’s grasp, turning to face him.
“Beel, it’s okay,” they say, cupping his face with a bloody, taloned hand. He smells the blood and lets out a sob.
Belphegor moves to comfort his twin, but MC’s wings snap open, shielding the pair in a ring of fire and feathers.
“I— I…” He can’t form the words. You died, my brother killed you, he’s here, you hurt him, why is he here, why did he hurt you, how did— “Please,” he says, finally.
MC frowns, hesitates. But slowly, they lower their wings and step aside, letting the twins reunite. As they embrace, Belphegor shoots them a look, but it’s not hateful. It’s not regretful or apologetic either, more of a profound confusion.
Despite demons’ regenerative abilities, Belphegor remains mostly bedridden for quite some time. It seems a phoenix’s wounds negate most healing factors, and the 5 pronged gash in his leg is particularly stubborn in its refusal to close. He jokes that the slow recovery must be because MC will never forgive him for what he’s done. Beel chastises him and says they’re more forgiving than he thinks.
Still, Belphie is surprised to see MC join Beel when he comes to change the youngest’s bandages. They hold out their hands, revealing 10 strange, press-on caps over their talons as they assure Belphie they won’t hurt him.
Where Beel is overly cautious and gentle, MC is practiced and efficient as they inspect, clean, and redress his wounds.
“Is this your way of apologizing?” Belphie can’t help but ask, earning him a stern glare from his twin.
“For attacking you after you killed me, not knowing it wouldn’t take? No,” they reply around a mouthful of medical tape. “It’s an excuse to talk.” They gesture for Beel to move his hand from the gauze pad so they can tape it down.
“You want to talk with your would-be murderer.” MC gathers up the garbage and old bandages to toss them in the trash.
“You’re not the first person to try, you know,” they remark as they dust off their hands.
“What?!” the twins shout in unison, Beel nearly dropping the scissors he was putting back into the first aid kit.
“I’ll tell you about it if you tell me why…” MC gestures broadly to Belphegor, “this all happened the way it did.”
This exchange of stories does not repair MC and Belphegor’s fraught relationship. That is not how wounds heal. But nevertheless, some weeks later, the House of Lamentation has a movie night. And sandwiched in the middle of the familial cuddle pile is MC, Beel, and Belphie, each tucked under one fiery wing.
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