Subaru and Towa wearing Mumei and Kronii's casual outfits.

Artwork by Hakimen

A cute idea got me. Icarus Jet Coaster but it’s Miraculous Ladybug. Because Subaru and Towa being romantic dorks just once over isn’t enough, sometimes the highest appeal is giving both romantic dorks a secret identity and letting the different personas interact differently with one another. I’m torn on who’s Ladybug and who’s Cat Noir though.

OOOO I’ve heard about the show from... quite a few of my friends lol. Haven’t had the chance to catch up on it myself but that sounds like it’d be pretty adorable just seeing these two dorks get into chaos.

Icarus

[AO3]

When Gavin first met Michael, he was intrigued.  Of course he was.  Who wouldn’t be?  That reputation, and all-- Mogar, the famous embodiment of rage himself, somehow coaxed into loyalty to Ramsey and the Fakes.  The tirades, the hair-trigger bomb-dropping reflexes (both literal and figurative)-- there they all were, capped in auburn curls and slouching against the wall on the day Gavin finally showed up in Geoff’s living room.

Who wouldn’t be interested in that?  

Better yet-- Michael was great fun, Gavin soon realized.  While Geoff tolerated Gavin’s inanity with paternal amusement, and Jack rolled her eyes at Gavin’s antics and ruffled his hair, Michael-- Michael embraced Gavin’s chaos.  More than that, he reveled in it.  He thrived on it, expanded it, blew it up like vinegar poured joyfully over a pile of baking soda.  If Gavin started a wildfire, Michael would hose it down with gasoline and a feral grin.  If Gavin caused a six-car pile-up, Michael would methodically double it to twelve and add a fighter jet.  If Gavin was a happy little lit fuse, then Michael was the shipyard full of dynamite next to it, just waiting to go off.

Gavin wasn’t one to marvel at his own life out loud, but in his moments alone, he did admit to himself that there was something a little magical about their synergy.  There was a natural ebb and flow he felt with Michael, something effortless, like a well-oiled roller coaster or a magnum bullet cutting through butter.  Ryan remarked once that the two of them were like a binary star system, each slingshotting the other around in a perpetual, explosive, million-mile-a-minute dance.  

Gavin liked the nerdy analogy-- not that he’d ever say so out loud.  God, no.  It was flattering; too flattering, to be honest.  Because while everyone could see that Michael was something of a genius at explosives and mayhem and fast-talking smartassery in that Jersey way of his, Gavin was just, well, himself.  Gawky, good for a laugh, but crap at guns and driving, which was half their job, really.  No-- in those early days of the Fakes, if Gavin were the type to get poetic (he wasn’t), he might have analogized Michael to a celestial body, sure.  But if Michael was a star, then Gavin was just the kid on the ground, staring up into the night sky in delight.  

As the days stretched into months, Gavin learned a few other things about Michael Jones.  For one, Michael was an exception to Gavin’s rule about most anything.  See, despite the ridiculous “Golden Boy” persona, Gavin didn’t really put stock in the material world.  Maybe that’s why he created mayhem so carelessly.  Gold chains, gold sunglasses, stupid cars, fancy society-- it was all pretty useless, wasn’t it?  Great spectacle, but nothing to get attached to.  But with Michael-- there was something about Michael that he hadn’t seen coming, something that he suddenly felt was there one day, and the next, and every day after that, clear as crystal.  It was there in the arm slung over his shoulders in easy companionship.  It was there in the warm brown eyes that followed him across the room.  It was there in the quick, devilish smile that appeared whenever he suggested something particularly, innovatively, destructive.  Somehow, in the storms and the calms that made up the Fake AH life, Michael Jones had become overwhelmingly… there, in Gavin Free’s world.

Gavin stared drunkenly at the dark ceiling over his bed one night, sometime after this realization, and decided that Ryan could go fuck himself.  Michael was not just like any old star.  Michael was like the damn sun.  And not in the way that most people would think, either.  Because yes, “Mogar” was fiery, blinding, perpetual energy.  “Mogar” wielded anger like a solar flare, leaving charred bodies in his wake.  But Michael?  Michael’s incessant chatter was like… the sparkling warmth of sunshine through dust, turning brown desert sand to a rosy red-gold.  Michael’s grin was like the colors of twilight: familiar, an everyday thing, yet lovely to see.  Michael’s presence was like daybreak, washing over a glittering cityscape until every artificial light paled and winked out.  

Gavin screwed his eyes shut in the darkness of his room, thinking that perhaps he should set himself on fire for his shitty, silent poetic waxing.  When had Michael become… this?  Had he always been this way, and had Gavin just never noticed?  Had he been changing slowly, like a shadow across a sundial?  

Or had Gavin been the one changing, being drawn in, slowly growing attached to Michael’s warmth?  

Gavin rolled over impatiently.  It was the drink talking, probably.  Maybe.  And anyway, one was allowed to get sentimental about friends, once in awhile.  He couldn’t shake the thought, though, of how comfortable it would be to have Michael’s shoulder against his right now, Michael’s voice telling him evenly that he was being a freakish idiot, that they could go blow up a bank together tomorrow and he’d feel better.  

Gavin huffed out a quiet laugh, then sighed.  Even an imaginary Michael was enough to get him to cheer up.  Come to think of it, at this rate, if Michael was the sun, perhaps Gavin was already flying a little too close to be able to back away now.  

Then again, when was Gavin ever one to take the safe path, when there were thrills, and heights, and such brightness to chase?

[AO3] [Undercurrent]

Dark Knight Subaru saving her Princess Towa~

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