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lvmimis · 11 months ago

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cw: spoilers. after timeskip. selfship-coded. reader has a defined quirk. hurt/comfort.

As strong as the bond between any high school class can be (even yours, arguably more a small superpowered militia than a group of hopeful freshmen in far over their heads and strong enough to make it through the other end anyway), paths diverge as people follow their dreams, even if they will all forever call UA their home.

It’s fitting that Izuku Midoriya, indisputably the most affected by the trauma of the meta war has kept UA as home base, and settling into his new career as teacher has remained both expected and fulfilling, even if poorly introspective onlookers would think otherwise. He is the heart of what it means to be a hero and that is to inspire the present and the future, and carry on the lessons of the past.

He is also your heart, you muse, as you find him sitting at your kitchen table, poring over graded essays, the red ink from his excessively lengthy corrections and comments practically jumping off the paper it’s scribbled on. You set down your work bag and attempt to sneak up behind him, but even if he’s focused and still, he’s always sharp, setting his pen down to turn around and greet you with a kiss.

“Hey, you’re later than usual, so I just let myself in, is that okay?” he asks. You nod, moving over to wash your hands in the sink quickly, then coming back around to pull a chair next to him.

You’ve wanted to ask him to just move in together for months now, especially since now you spend more time at each other’s places than you do your own separate ones, but something about the proposition has felt wrong, rushed maybe. It’s been just a little over a year since you moved back to Japan after your fellowship overseas, and while you’ve remained in a varying level of contact the whole time since graduation, the flux of things has changed significantly instead of settling normally. For one, confessing an unrelenting affection that was kept mostly secret since high school had changed the trajectory of your lives, finding ways to incorporate seeing each other without fanfare between your busy post-grad education and his UA courses, then finally a year of long distance had made it difficult to ever feel like things had been truly steady.

“I wouldn’t have given you a code or key if not, silly,” you remind him. He smiles, and you glance over at the last assignment he’s corrected, and grimace.

“You know if Aizawa had given me this many comments on an essay, I wouldn’t have shown up the next day, Izuku,” you remind him. He laughs, as you take the paper and read his feedback, mind spinning.

“I mean, no kid’s ever cried yet. I try to be nice.”

He is nice, you think, realizing that not a single word in the practical novel he’s scribbled in the margins of the brief constructed response can be misconstrued as disappointed or demanding.

In fact, you would have cried tears of joy reading this.

“How was the clinic?” he asks over the turn of another page.

“The most darling kid who didn’t have a Quirk manifest yet at age 5 showed up with worried parents with too much money on their hands.” You twist your mouth to the side.

Izuku doesn’t look up as he says, “Oh, that’s too bad.”

There’s a pang of discomfort in your chest for a split second, but he doesn’t say anything else, scribbling a series of checkmarks and x’s, the quick scritch of his pen a little louder and resounding.

Izuku was meant to be Quirkless and is happy being Quirkless yet again, his mission fulfilled and the world better for it - even if sometimes only marginally so - but you know he yearns for the ability to be back on the field, with the same restlessness All Might once recounted feeling once he’d retired to teach as well. It’s evident in the way Izuku stays up a little too late reading/watching the news at every level, and how much of his free time he coordinates to a similarly intense training program at the crack of dawn, and the fact that even now he bristles at the implication of Quirklessness as a disability.

Everyone can be a hero. He was the greatest of them all - is, in fact, and not just your personal one, but his own personal world has shrunk. Documentaries, videos, people’s memories will not change that the fact that he’s far bigger than the quiet life he lives.

Now he’s relegated to cheering his friends on, day in and day out, and preparing a path for the youth to surpass him, something he is willing to do, but you know perhaps the timing is a bit too early for someone who shines as brightly as him.

You rest your head on his shoulder. I love you, you could say out loud, I love you, and the world loves you, for you even more than what you did and what you represent, but it doesn’t help and Izuku cannot help sometimes interpreting your love as pity.

“What do you want for dinner?” you ask instead, keeping your voice as gentle as possible.

He turns to kiss your forehead. “I’m good with anything.”

You hate that no matter what you ask, big or small, he’ll always say this, and decide you’ll order his favorite food instead.

—

Years ago, when Mei contacted you out of the blue while you were ass deep in your medical school finals, asking you if you remembered the last time you’d used your Quirk on Izuku Midoriya, you had immediately assumed she had officially gone insane. It had been greater than five years since you’d last had a normal conversation with her at all, if even that could be considered normal, and you hadn’t had a need to use your Quirk on Izuku since the meta war.

“I know it’s a long shot but I need to know if you still remember-”

“I do,” you answered quickly, then immediately your face warmed at the admission. You can’t help that your Quirk gives you near perfect memory of people by their neuronal diagram, but something about it feels stalkerish when you still think of him affectionately, and not just as someone you’ve once healed. It also doesn’t help what the circumstances were when you’d healed him… but that would be a concern and memory for later.

“How can I help?”

Katsuki rolled his eyes visibly at you when you showed up to Hatsume’s lab the very next day but the animosity between you two has been a running schtick for years and you responded in jest. Using Hatsume’s program to redraw each neuronal connection from memory and adjusting for differences related to age was your greatest contribution to Izuku’s suit, small sums of money to contribute to the class pot whenever you could spare them the other.

There was always a little pang of jealousy that Katsuki could always offer up more money than you could, which once you’d confided to him by late night phone call days before All Might came back to Japan, he’d remind you,

“I’m just trying to beat your boyfriend in a fair fight, don’t make this about you.”

Katsuki’s rash way of speaking has always intuitively comforted you in just this way. It brings a smile to your face, and you offer him a word of thanks, anyway.

“He doesn’t know, does he? I know you like to run your mouth.”

Katsuki can’t see you roll your eyes. “He’s none the wiser, don’t worry.”

“Good.”

—

Izuku sends you a daily good morning message, and you’ve rarely beaten him to the punch, but this morning, you offer him a phone call as you make your way to the center of the city to work. All Might is coming back today and will present his suit to him then, the fruit of all your joint labors, and you were practically unable to sleep due to the excitement. Part of you agonized over whether or not you should try to be with him in the moment, but this is a moment to be kept between them, mentor and mentee.

“How are you feeling this morning, Izuku?” you ask, hoping the pants of your speedwalk (late to work as usual), don’t concern him through the phone.

“Weirdly enough, excited. There’s a feeling I can’t quite place, a good one,” he starts, and your grin is ear to ear.

Hours later, you get an excited text and one of the happiest phone calls you’ve ever received, and your heart is full to bursting.

—

“It’s fine, you don’t have to fuss over me,” Izuku insists, and you pout. There’s one stubborn emerald curl that won’t right itself in your opinion, and he’ll be on set for an interview in just a few minutes - the first since returning to active hero work - but he holds your fingers in his hand and pulls them to his lips instead.

“It’s okay. Don’t be nervous on my behalf,” he reminds you as he kisses them. His eyes are kind and relaxing, and you let out a deep breath, biting your lower lip. “I’ve got this, I promise.”

“Fine.”

“I love you,” he reminds you. “Thank you for always being by my side.”

You nod, as his assistant whisks him away, and he steps back into the spotlight, where he’s always belonged.

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #daydreams: bnha #mimi's notes #mimidoriya

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supercorpkid · 3 months ago

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I Forget You Aren't Mine 2

Supergirl. Lena Luthor x Reader!, Kara Danvers x Reader!, Alex Danvers, Brainy, Lex Luthor.

Word Count: 3.2k

Notes: Read part 1 here! Last part coming soon!

Turns out contacting Lena wasn't the hardest part of the plan. The real challenge is keeping it a secret. Lex has eyes and ears everywhere.

He brought his sister here with all of her memories, because he wanted her to suffer—to watch you with another woman, to fight and feel for something already lost. Like it was all just a game. A game he would be the only winner. Every time you think you're making progress, you realize you've actually taken two steps back.

You've resorted to clandestine meetings, coded messages, and using Brainy's intricate network to bypass Lex's surveillance. Each time you think you've found a secure channel, a subtle anomaly alerts Brainy to a hidden monitoring program. It’s like trying to navigate a maze where the walls are constantly shifting, and Lex seems to know every turn before you take it.

This afternoon, you find yourselves huddled in the back of a dimly lit, near-empty coffee shop—one Alex swore was a blind spot in Lex's network. Brainy is hunched over a laptop, his brow furrowed in concentration. Alex paces restlessly, one hand resting on the holster at her hip. Kara sits stiffly beside you, arms folded, jaw set, her eyes flicking between you and the others. The stale scent of burnt coffee mingles perfectly with the metallic tang of fear.

"He's anticipating our every move," Alex mutters, voice low. "It's like he's reading our minds."

"Or, and more realistically," Brainy says, voice flat, "he has access to our neural pathways."

Oh yeah, way more realistic. The implication settles like a weight in your chest. Lex isn’t just rewriting memories—he’s inside your head, predicting your next step before you even take it.

"We need a new approach," you say, voice barely above a whisper. "Something he won’t expect."

"Like?" Alex asks, eyes sharp.

"Maybe we should try Lena’s old encrypted channels?" Kara suggests, surprising you. "If she used them before, maybe they’ll be harder to track. Having access to it would give us an advantage."

"That is a logical suggestion," Brainy says, fingers flying over the keyboard. "However, accessing Lena’s previous encryption keys would require infiltrating Lex’s network in person."

"So, we’re back to square one," Alex sighs, running a hand through her hair.

"Not necessarily," Lena’s voice crackles through Brainy's modified datapad—the only safe line of communication left. You nearly forgot she was there at all. "What if we create a distraction? Something big enough to draw Lex’s attention away from us?"

Kara's jaw tightens at the sound of Lena's voice, her eyes narrowing. "What kind of distraction?"

"Something that will make him think he’s already won," you murmur, the thought forming even as Lena speaks. A slow, knowing smile tugs at your lips—because you understand exactly where she’s going with this.

Beside you, Kara realizes the same and frowns harder.

"That would require us to know what he wants most," Brainy muses. "And to make him believe he has it."

"Lex wants recognition. Power," Lena says after a pause. "He wants the Kryptonians, the DEO, everyone bowing to him. He mentioned something about the two Supers being a ‘prize.’ If we can get Superman and Supergirl to honor him publicly, to give him some ridiculous award, the whole world will see him as the most powerful being alive."

"And why would I do that?" Kara’s arms cross tightly over her chest, her glare like steel.

It’s been a week since this whole thing started. By now, you know exactly what to say to get Kara on board. She just needs to be sure—sure that this isn’t about Lena, that she’s the one you love. That even if all of this is just some sick joke from a sociopath, you’ll still love her when it’s over.

"Because this won’t work without you." Your hand slides under the table, fingers brushing her thigh before giving it a light squeeze. “Babe, we can't win if Supergirl isn't on our team. I can't do this without you.”

Kara's eyes search yours, scanning for any trace of doubt. But the thing is, you're 100% honest about this. So she breathes in deep, exhales slowly, and then her lips find the curve of your neck. “Not fair,” she murmurs against your skin. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

You smile. At the fact that you got what you wanted and at the knowledge that Kara loves you enough to help you even when she doesn’t really want to.

Lena’s voice crackles through the datapad, cutting through the moment like a blade—almost as if she’s trying to shut your interaction with Kara down before it can go any further.

"It’s only going to work if Kara, Clark, and the director of the DEO are there, front and center."

All eyes turn to Alex, knowing she’s just as likely as Kara to hate this plan. There’s a beat of silence before she exhales sharply. "Fine. I'll do it."

"And while they're playing his twisted game," Brainy interjects, already typing at lightning speed, "Y/N, Lena, and I will attempt to access Lena’s old encrypted channels. We can use the distraction to mask our activity."

Kara’s head snaps up, her expression instantly darkening. "Absolutely not. Y/N is not going to be involved in this. It’s too dangerous."

"Babe, I'll be fine," you reassure her, taking her hand. "I have the watch. If anything goes wrong, I'll call you immediately."

"And I will be monitoring the situation from a safe distance," Brainy adds, calm as ever. "I will alert you to any anomalies."

"You won't even be there? So it’ll be just Y/N and Lena…" Kara argues, her voice tight with worry, knuckles white clenched into fists. "I don’t like it. What if this is a setup? What if she—"

"Kara." You and Lena say it in unison.

You stop immediately, realizing how much it's going to irritate her that you and Lena are in sync. Lena, however, presses on. "I’m in the same situation as you all. You think if Lex catches me working with you against him, he’ll let it slide?"

Alex steps in, her hand landing on Kara’s shoulder in a grounding touch. "We’ve talked about this. This only works if we trust each other."

"Yeah, yeah, but still—” Kara hesitates, her eyes darting between you and the datapad, “Y/N doesn’t have superpowers. If she gets caught—"

"I can get us in and out unnoticed." Lena interjects through the datapad. "I've been studying the floorplans."

"And I'll teach Y/N how to shoot," Alex adds. "Basic self-defense, just in case."

"Thank you," you say, squeezing Kara’s hand for emphasis. "See? It'll work. We just have to stick together."

Kara exhales sharply, clearly unconvinced but outnumbered. "Fine. But if anything happens to you—"

"Nothing will," you cut in gently. "We’ll be careful."

"We need to time this perfectly," Brainy says, eyes locked on his laptop. "The distraction and our access attempt must happen simultaneously."

"And we need to make sure Lex believes the ‘prize’ is real," Alex muses. "It has to be convincing."

"We’ll stage an event," Lena says, her voice clear despite the distortion. "Something that plays into his ego. A public display of… submission."

Alex nods, determination flashing in her eyes. "Then let’s get to work. We don’t have much time."

Alex teaches you how to shoot a gun. You wouldn’t say it’s your favorite thing in the world. The weight of it feels wrong against your body. A cold, heavy reminder of the necessity of all this. Sometimes you wish none of it was necessary. Sometimes you even wonder if you should’ve let it go—because Kara was right. You were happy. Your suburban life with a superhero, perfectly crafted, progressing like clockwork. Like a TV show.

Damn it.

"Hey." Kara’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, warm and grounding. She steps in behind you as you gather your things, her hands finding the dimples at the small of your back, pressing gently before sliding up to squeeze your waist. You don’t turn, not yet—not when she leans in, front pressed to your back, pressing a kiss on your neck, slow and deliberate.

"Are you sure about this?" she murmurs. "I don’t want you in any kind of danger."

"You have to trust me." you whisper, your resolve faltering when her lips trail to the spot just behind your ear—the one that makes your knees go weak.

"I trust you," she promises, her mouth never leaving your skin. "It’s everyone else I don’t."

"Babe," you try, but then Kara hums, her breath hot against your ear before her tongue flicks a slow stripe down your neck, and suddenly, words don’t exist anymore.

"Stop distracting me with sex," you manage, your hands trembling slightly, as you grip the table, trying to ground yourself. "We have to be at our positions in half an hour."

Kara chuckles, the sound vibrating against your skin. "Oh, I can do a lot in half an hour."

She turns you effortlessly, and when you meet her gaze, there’s a hunger there—something dark and possessive, something you hadn’t realized lived inside her.

"Besides," she purrs, hands slipping beneath your waistband— "I’m not distracting you. I’m reminding you."

"Reminding me of…?" you echo, barely breathing.

“Who you belong to.”

And shit. Maybe she is right. Maybe this is where you belong and she is the one you belong to. You can't seem to think otherwise while she makes you forget about the impending danger, and her hands and lips make you feel loved and wanted and like the most important person in the universe.

Until Alex's voice crackles through the datapad, yanking you out of the perfect TV show life and shoving you back into reality.

The staged event is underway, a grotesque parody of a surrender ceremony. Kara, Clark, and Alex stand before Lex, their expressions carefully crafted to convey submission. The crowd, manipulated by Lex's technology, roars its approval. You all should have realized he would turn this into a bigger circus than it was already meant to be.

Meanwhile, you and Lena are hidden in the underbelly of LexCorp, navigating a maze of conduits and server rooms while Brainy's voice comes from the datapad.

The space is suffocating—cramped, dark, the scent of ozone and dust thick in the air. You’re pressed tight against Lena, so close you can feel the ghost of her breath against your skin, the way her body aligns with yours in a way that feels too natural. Too familiar.

You try not to think about it. Try not to think about her. About the truth that sits heavy in the back of your mind—the knowledge that she wasn’t lying. That in another life, you were hers.

But your body betrays you. Despite everything, despite the weight of reality pressing in from all sides, warmth curls low in your stomach, a pull that feels instinctual. Wrong. Right. You shove it down, force your focus back to the task at hand, but Lena shifts just slightly, and the way your body reacts makes it painfully clear—

Denying her is impossible.

You swallow deep, ignoring the goosebumps on your arms. This is wrong. This is so very wrong for many reasons, but you can't remember a single one right now.

"I’m glad you wanted to know the truth." Lena whispers, her voice low and husky.

You hesitate, before answering. "I’m not doing this for me," you reply, your voice tight from the lie. "I’m doing this for the whole world whose minds are currently being enslaved by your megalomaniac brother."

"Of course," Lena says, a hint of amusement in her voice. "But you’re here, aren’t you? You’re fighting for what you believe in." Then her voice drops two octaves, so low it makes you shiver. Her eyes locked on yours. “And I think, deep down, you know it's me.”

Lena shifts slightly, the friction sending a sharp jolt of awareness through you. Every nerve in your body is already on edge from the mission, but this—this is something else. The warmth of her breath on your cheek, the way her thigh presses between yours, too perfectly slotted there to be a coincidence, too firm and unmoving—it’s like your body is recognizing something your mind refuses to acknowledge.

You swallow hard, eyes fixed on the dimly lit panel in front of you. Focus. You need to focus.

"You don’t need to tell me what I believe in." you manage, but your voice lacks its usual bite.

Lena exhales a quiet laugh, and the sound brushes against your skin like a touch. "You might not remember me, but I remember everything about you.” The way she says ‘everything’ isn’t casual—it’s weighted, lingering, curling around something unspoken. Something dangerous. “And I think your body remembers me too."

You hadn’t noticed. Your fingers trembling over the console, an unsteady breath leaving you before you can stop it, the goosebumps on your arms. You hadn't realized you were being this obvious.

"Stop it. I'm married, Ms. Luthor," you whisper, but it sounds more like a reminder to yourself than a warning to her. “Please move your leg.”

Lena doesn’t. She doesn’t step back, doesn’t even blink. Instead, her fingers brush against your cheek—light, deliberate—as she tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. A touch so simple, so meaningless, yet it feels like a test. Like she’s pushing a boundary neither of you should cross.

Your skin burns where she touched you, heat spreading like a slow betrayal. It’s ridiculous—how fast your pulse jumps, how your breath hitches, how traitorous your body feels at this moment.

Because you just had Kara’s hands on you. Kara’s lips on your skin, her voice in your ear, reminding you who you belong to.

But right now, Lena’s looking at you like she could dismantle your entire world with just a breath.

And so help you, God—maybe she already has.

“We’re running out of time,” Brainy’s voice slices through the tension, snapping you back to the present. “We need to access the main server room now.”

Lena nods, but her eyes linger on yours for half a second too long—like she’s searching for something, like she wants to say something. You hope she doesn't. You don't think you can take it. Then, she turns and leads the way.

You follow. Tight corridors, dim lights, the tension between you growing stronger with every step. The heat of her body stays too close, her presence like a ghost of something you’re not ready to name.

When you reach the server room door, Lena stops, pressing a hand to the access panel. She exhales slowly, steadying herself.

“This is it,” she says, voice low. “Once we’re inside, there’s no turning back.”

Your heart pounds. “Let’s do this.”

Lena enters the code. The door slides open with a hiss. Inside, the server room hums with power—walls lined with blinking lights, the air thick with the low buzz of Lex’s control. This is it. The heart of his manipulation. You bite the inside of your cheek, resisting the urge to rip every wire out with your bare hands.

Lena and Brainy move fast, fingers flying over the keyboard, lines of code flashing across the monitors. You stand guard, gun raised, eyes locked on the hallway. Every nerve in your body screams to stay alert, to stay ready.

For a moment, it seems like everything is going according to plan.

Then—pain.

White-hot. Blinding. Like a knife slicing through your skull.

The room tilts violently. The lights blur into a sickening kaleidoscope. You stumble, reaching out blindly—gripping at nothing. You try to scream, but no sound comes out. The pain consuming you, devouring you—

Darkness.

A heavy thud echoes through the server room.

Lena spins at the sound, heart slamming into her ribs. Then she sees you.

No. No, no, no.

She’s kneeling beside you before she realizes she’s moved, hands pressing against your throat, searching—begging—for a pulse. There. Faint. But there.

“You’re breathing, darling. I’ve got you,” she whispers, voice trembling. But it’s shallow. Unsteady. Too close to nothing at all.

She grabs your shoulders. “Stay with me, please.”

You don’t respond. Panic claws up her throat, but she shoves it down. You’re alive. But you won’t be for long if she doesn’t get you out of here.

Brainy’s voice crackles in her earpiece. “Lena, what happened? I can’t read Y/N’s vitals.”

“She’s down,” Lena grits out, shaking you gently. Nothing. “Some kind of neural attack. I don’t know if it was Lex’s failsafe or something else, but we need to move. Now.”

“Extraction is impossible without alerting the entire security force.”

Lena clenches her jaw. Not an option.

Her mind races. She can’t carry you through the halls unnoticed. But— Her eyes land on a maintenance hatch in the wall. Tight, but big enough. The ventilation system connects to a sublevel exit Lex never reinforced. No one was supposed to know it existed. She shifts, slipping her arms under you.

“Sorry, darling,” she mutters. “I know you’d hate this.”

With surprising strength, she hoists you onto her back in a fireman’s carry. You don’t stir. Your weight presses against her, making it harder to breathe, harder to think. But she doesn’t have time for weakness.

Lena unlocks the hatch. It pops open with a hiss. She doesn’t stop. Doesn’t think. Just moves. Crawling through the vent with your body slumped against hers is slow, grueling work. Her arms shake, every muscle screaming, but she doesn’t stop.

Then—just for a second—she pauses. Just to breathe. Just to look at you. No flicker of consciousness. No reaction. She hadn’t realized she was crying. Her hands shake, as she strokes your face lightly, breath hitching.

“Come on, love. Wake up.”

Nothing.

She keeps going. Keeps pushing. Every second stretching into eternity. When she reaches the sublevel grate, she kicks it open and drops down into the dim corridor below. Just a few more turns. Just a little farther. Then, finally—a door. The exit.

Lena stumbles forward, shifting your weight so she can reach the panel. Her fingers are slick with sweat, but she punches in the code with steady precision. The door slides open.

Cold night air rushes in. She doesn’t hesitate. Not for a second. She yanks back your sleeve, fingers trembling as she opens the watch on your wrist. The emergency button stares back at her. A silent admission of what she already knows—she can’t do this alone. She presses it.

Of course she wants to be the one to save you. Of course she wants you to wake up and see her first. But none of that matters if you don’t wake up at all. And right now, you’ve got far better chances with Kara.

The response is immediate. A sonic boom cracks through the air. Then—Kara is there. A whirlwind of panic and raw power, her eyes already burning as she takes in the sight of you—limp in Lena’s arms. Tear-tracks on Lena’s face. Desperation in her eyes.

No words are needed. Kara holds you like you might slip through her fingers. Like she's afraid she already lost you. Don't you dare die on us.

And then—she’s gone. Faster than thought. Faster than light. Racing against time itself to save you.

#supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #kara x reader #lena x reader #reader insert #supergirl fanfiction #alex danvers #brainy #lex luthor

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ppyopulii · 4 months ago

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maestro’s muse 💿 applications open!

PREVIEW. The show’s about to start… are you ready to be in charge of the music? Apply now to become an organizer for HYBE University’s 10th annual hackathon! 🎶

FEATURING. lee jihoon x gn!reader, various non-idol!hybe groups & reader GENRE(S). coming of age, fluff, some angst EXPLICITS. none!

JAY’S MUSINGS. prologue (part one) for maestro’s muse, the series. this one is relatively short (think of it as a teaser, almost), but part two should be up in a few days! enjoy :)

www.hybehax.tech/apply

⏳ Loading Application…

HYBEHAX is a 24-hour collegiate level hackathon where hackers come together at HYBE University to compete and bring innovation to life. This year, our theme specializes in music and creating a festival everyone can enjoy. Interested in working the event? Fill out the questionnaire below and our team will reach out to you once the application period has ended.

SECTION ONE — General Application

* Indicates a required field.

What year of college are you going to be for the upcoming school year?*

◻️ Freshman/First-Year

☑️ Sophomore/Second-Year

◻️ Junior/Third-Year

◻️ Senior/Fourth-Year

◻️ Other (please specify):

What teams would you be interested in applying for?*

Note: You are allowed to pick more than one team, but should you be asked to interview with us, you will only end up placed on one team.

◻️ Marketing Team (handles social media content and outreach)

◻️ Sponsorship Team (specializes in securing and managing POCs with sponsoring companies)

◻️ Tech Team (manages the digital infrastructure of our hackathon, such as the websites/forms/app)

☑️ Design Team (works on merchandise and various designs for social media, sponsors and digital platforms)

Would you be interested in a leadership position, i.e. Team Lead?*

Team Leads delegate specific tasks to members and collaborate with other Leads/E-board to ensure preparations are properly managed in a timely manner.

☑️ Yes, I’d be interested!

◻️ No, I’d like to only contribute as a HYBEHAX organizer.

Tell us a little about yourself!*

What’s your story? What drew you to want to become an organizer for HYBEHAX? 200 words max.

Hello! As a rising sophomore and current freshman, I could only be a volunteer for this past hackathon season. However, the energy I was met with was like no other; I had never before seen so many wonderful people bond together in a space to share, create, and be known for their accomplishments. I found myself inspired by the passion the hackers embodied and want to work towards creating a similar space this year, especially in light of it being the 10th year anniversary. I hope to bring that same energy and creativity to the table as an organizer! Thank you for this opportunity!

-> Next Section

SECTION TWO — Design Team Application

* Indicates a required field.

Which of the following design programs do you have experience with?*

Check all that apply.

☑️ Adobe Illustrator

☑️ Adobe Photoshop

☑️ Canva

☑️ Figma

☑️ Others (fill out as you see fit): also have experience in procreate, as well as designing stickers with brandmaker & t-shirts/hoodies specifically with custom-ink!

What made you apply for Design Team?*

200 words max.

As a computer science major who has a hobby for all things artistic, I’ve always been interested in the intersection of the two. I believe that integrating technology and the arts is crucial for navigating our ever-changing world. I love using what I know about computer science to further my passion for art, such as messing around with designing UI/UX interfaces for applications and then coding them up. I think it’s fun :)

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#seventeen #lee jihoon x reader #woozi x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #lee jihoon imagines #lee jihoon fluff #woozi fluff #woozi imagines #🏆 hybehax #maestro’s muse 💿 ljh #🎶 ppyopulii’s discography

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thezombieprostitute · 11 months ago

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Tech Tuesday - Introductions

A/N: Entirely written on my phone. Apologies for errors!

A/N2: This chapter is mainly an introduction to the setting and the majority of the characters. It'll be different readers for each character (give or take).

Ok, first day, very important to not make an idiot of yourself. That's been your internal mantra for the entire commute. You've been really hoping it'll help you out today.

You've gotten a ticket to take to IT for your new work laptop but you got lost trying to find your way there. You look around at the signs, trying to figure it out when someone gently coughs to get your attention. Turning you see a tall, lean man with short blondish brown hair and light blue eyes.

"Do you need some help?" His accent and soft tone help soothe your nerves.

"Um..." you hesitate. "I'm, I'm trying to find the IT department?"

His eyes widen as he smiles, "you must be the new hire." You nod and he holds out his hand, "I'm Jonathan, manager of the IT department. I'll show you the way."

He talks as he guides you to the one section of the building you hadn't been to yet.

"Here is our own little corner of the world," Jonathan gestures around the open area. "For a new employee you're going to want to talk to Jake." He points to a young man with spiky hair, glasses and a goatee who's talking on the phone.

"Ain't gonna happen for a while." A large bear of a man with a beard and a bald top, wearing a Lynyrd Skinner shirt steps towards you. "He's helping that little old lady on the third floor that never remembers her password."

"Ah, yes," Jonathan winces. "She is quite the talker." He looks to you and introduces the second man as Syverson. "We both run the department but Sy is better at managing the employees while I'm better at convincing the higher ups to give us a better budget."

"One of th' smoothest talkers I've ever worked with," Sy grins. "As far as your laptop, you wait right here an' I'll go get from Walter. He's our main hardware guy. Then we'll get...hmmm." He looks around as he ponders.

"Johnny is currently mid battle with that hacker he keeps toying with," Jonathan muses. "How is Ransom's mood today?"

Sy snorts, "same as always. Definitely don't wanna scare the lady away." He snaps his fingers, "Rogers!"

A head pops out of a cubicle, "you call?"

"Got a new employee," Sy explains. "Gonna need you to help her get her laptop setup." Sy turns and heads to where you're guessing Walter is with the hardware you'll need.

You turn back to where Steve was situated and almost jump at seeing him so close. He's huge but you didn't hear him at all! The big and tall blonde man's eyes are shining with enthusiasm.

He holds out his hand and you introduce yourself. "It's nice to meet you. Not a lot of new people around here lately. I work with the designs for our internal programs. Me and Bucky," he gestures back to his cubicle, "work together on the UX and accessibility stuff for the external website."

"That's impressive," you nod, practically hypnotized by his eyes. And his muscles, if you're being honest with yourself.

Sy returns and hands Steve the laptop. "Follow me," Steve smiles as he turns. You try your best to fight the urge to ogle his ass. It's your first day and you don't want to already make a fool of yourself! No matter how handsome these guys are.

Steve takes you through the setup. He's incredibly patient and kind. Plus his voice could keep your attention forever. He's going through some of the standard company security stuff when there's a knock. You both turn and you see a burly man with a beanie and a beard so full you almost miss the lip piercing.

"Hey, Curtis. What's up?"

"Bucky's out getting another coffee," Curtis starts. "Need you to tell him I've got the code worked out for the next update and need him to check the legacy compatibility."

"Sure thing," Steve nods and Curtis heads back to whenever he'd been.

"Don't you have an internal communications thing for this?" You're surprised that someone has to intervene in the communication.

Steve chuckles as he pulls out his phone. "Bucky never responds to work stuff while he's out, even just to a cafe. But there's a time crunch on this and I'm the only person he'll actually check his phone for."

"Oh," is all you can say.

Steve finishes his text and gets back to your training. When you're done you thank him for everything and he blushes a little.

"If you want I can help you with the physical setup at your desk?" He almost looks like he's pleading for you to say yes.

"It won't be a problem? I don't want to get you in trouble."

"Not at all," he assures. "Besides, I don't want to be here for the upcoming Bucky and Curtis debate."

You giggle nervously, "ok. And thank you!"

Tagging @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82 ; @ronearoundblindly

Also tagging @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory to test if this post is working!

Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

#tech tuesday #Jonathan Pine #Captain Syverson #Syverson #Walter Marshall #Jake Jensen #Ransom Drysdale #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #Curtis Everett

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rei-ismyname · 4 months ago

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Magneto, Storm and Blue Marvel vs a Stark Sentinel

It's issue #4 of Resurrection of Magneto and the old man is back in the world of the living, good as new. Storm, Blue Marvel, and Mags decide to go smash some fascists. After a particularly targeted trap for Magneto and unseen heroics from the others, they take prisoners and free the captive mutants. Blue Marvel is kind enough to offer the destruction of the facility to others.

Mags jumps at the opportunity and crumples the billion dollar facility like origami - leaving lots of metal lying around. A brief moment of peace is shattered by a Stark Sentinel. 'Mutants detected. Engage and destroy.'

Heh, Brashear throws some justified shade at Tony Stark. Even if Tony is less culpable for this monstrosity, both men know all too well that Tony ruins lives. He designed the ORCHIS Forge and played a part in the death of Adam's wife. These Sentinels are pretty sophisticated with specific countermeasures against the big guns. They're apparently Magneto proof, though that will be tested. Are they Storm proof?

Yep! Some kind of sonic weapon pins her down, unable to focus. Blue Marvel has a shot but it has countermeasures for him too. These are three of the most powerful beings alive but this robot has their number individually. Adam advocates for leaving, having done what they came to do. Mags wants to smash it, though the point is moot.

Some human journalists are disguised as fisherfolk and the sentinel is programmed to take out witnesses (and probably journalists too.) They have to take this thing down or all these people will die. Magneto of old probably wouldn't care, but he's committed to using his power responsibly in the world. Ethically. Heroically.

While Adam is trying to evacuate, Mags thinks outside the box. Using all that metal from the destroyed facility, Mags fashions two giant fists. It's go time, you red and gold bitch.

I'll give ORCHIS some credit for coding a passive aggressive sentinel - it reminds them that 'this unit is proofed against magnetic tampering,' walking into a series of dramatic one liners. Mags pounds the shit out of it with giant steel hooks and uppercuts but the piece of shit declares 'Impact insufficient.' Mags and Storm both get in on talking smack to a robot and stall for time. For the first time in his life, Magneto proposes a mutant/human circuit - the best of Krakoa with the best of humanity. An electromagnetic power up with Blue Marvel regulating the energy with antimatter. No idea how that works and Adam says it could kill him.

They do it anyway, and super Saiyan Magneto roars in pain and rage as they thrash this bringer of death. All he can do is hit it, and hit it, and hit it...

Until it breaks the fuck apart. Woo! Mags is exercising godly restraint in keeping his philosophical musings inside his head, though he can't help but think of Charles.

BOOM! After Mags' cracking the egg all three of them blow it the fuck up. Gotta love that these journalists have this whole thing on camera. This could have been the basis for a whole new life for Mags. Rehabilitated in the public eye and committed to his Bodhisattva Vow. Alas, it was not to be. Not yet anyway.

Time to get these people out of here - something Storm and Adam take care of while Mags goes to rescue Tony Stark. I don't think this is how Al Ewing would have ended things if Mags wasn't needed in other books, but it works for a new beginning. Sure, Tony sucks, but Mags letting go and looking to the future has value. Working to be a better man, even if it means saving a shitty one. At least he's actually on team mutant at this point.

#x men #x comics #resurrection of Magneto #fall of x #magneto #charles xavier #krakoa #storm #blue marvel #orchis #Sentinels #tony stark #max eisenhardt #al ewing #luciano vecchio

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coffeecat1983 · 3 months ago

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Stobotnik: "As the Song Says" pt 6

(Warning for depiction of an anxiety attack)

"He's impossible! I have tried everything with this boy and there's no helping him!" A young Ivo sat outside the office of the group home's 'manager'. Even at age eight, he knew this was a padded title and 'warden' was more fitting. The caretaker (secretly referred to as "The Hag" by most of the children there) was ranting and raving again. So what if he had punched one of the other children? It wasn't like anyone else was going to stand up for him, protect him. He had once heard someone say it was a dog-eat-dog world. Screw that. If he had to live amongst the dogs, he'd be a lion, ripping them apart as he saw fit. As he pondered over this he heard the conversation continue on the other side of the door. "I'm not sure what else to tell you, Miz Crasden. I know the young man can be difficult-" "Difficult?!" the Hag screeched. "That little hellion is going to never be loved, never have someone care for him and you know what?! He deserves everything he gets! He's never going to be worth anything to anyone. He's as cold and unfeeling as a damn robot!" A robot. He rolled this idea around. Robots were obedient, he wasn't. There were other qualities to machines, right? They were fast, efficient, never tired. He wouldn't mind being associated with robots. Far better than people, he thought. What would he be called then? A Robotish? No. That didn't work. "...and then there was the time he nicked the toolset to break open his remote control car..." Nicked. Nick. Robotnik. Oh, he liked that. He liked that a lot.

*beep* The sound was accompanied by something cold on his cheek. Robotnik groaned as the lab came into focus. He blinked as there was another beep and the cold sensation returned. It was with shock he realized the mini-nik was lightly bumping his face, trying to stir him. He sat up. How had he ended up... No, no, not again. How was this possible! Getting to his feet, he pulled up the security footage from the last hour. Jumping ahead, he felt his stomach drop as he watched himself collapse, hands clasped over his ears as he fell. A blackout. He hadn't shut down like that in years. Not since he was a child. "There's nothing wrong with him physically. He's just being a dramatic brat. Just tell him to get over it." He gripped the table as the room threatened to spin again. Another beep as the mini-nik seemed to nuzzle him, the tiny camera lens focused intently on his face. The doctor breathed out slowly. Focus. The hum of the lab equipment, the lingering smell of the now cold latte, the feel of his gloves securely covering his fingertips. As the old trick of grounding got to work, he huffed softly and returned to his seat. Quietly removing the offending song he picked another playlist before resuming his work. He took brief notice of the mini-nik. The little one had decided to perch on his shoulder, using the miniature hooks meant for carrying things to grip tightly to his clothing. Instead of urging it away, he took some mild comfort in the company. "Shall we resume?" he mused aloud. A beep met his inquiry, making him hum. He really didn't recall programing anything remotely close to personalities into his Badniks initial coding, but then again maybe he had and just didn't recall it. Not his usual style, but not impossible, he concluded. Feeling a ripple of irritation he stopped the current playlist and pulled up a personal one.

It was a while later that Stone returned. Two Badniks reacted to his summons using his own gloves, and the pair beeped happily upon seeing the agent before helping carry bags to the kitchen. Picking through the bags, Stone smiled to himself as he pulled out his special prize. Making sure the Badniks were done with their work, he lightly patted both in praise for the help before leaving the kitchen. Slipping briefly into the doctor's room, he then approached the lab only to stop when he heard the sounds on the other side. Infected Mushroom throbbed out, signaling the doctor's mood. It was a 'work silently and don't dare bother me' day, something that had been a rarity since their move to the secret location. Bracing himself, Stone entered and moved as quietly as a cat to his own work area. He cast a quick glance back. Robotnik was sunken down in his chair, fingers tented, eyes closed and brow furrowed. Every so often something on his screen would beep and his mood grew darker each time after furiously typing away.

Time passed and getting up, Stone hovered nearby, clearing his throat. "Doctor?" "What?" the reply was low, almost a growl. Stone made a motion of looking at his watch. "It's past lunch and getting late, sir. Should I prepare dinner?" Robotnik shook his head. "Fix yourself something and I'll take whatever is left after." Translation, I don't feel like eating. Pretend to fix me something but make it easy to store for you to consume later if I don't. "Of course, doctor. If you require my assistance with anything else," he motioned to the screens that, he noted privately, showed no signs of work. "I'm happy to help." Robotnik ignored him, allowing silence to speak in his place. Once Stone was out of the room, he clicked a fingertip, his research coming back on screen as he returned to his work. Later that night, after the ignored meal was put away and Stone's goodnight was returned with a low grunt, Robotnik glared at the screens in front of him. A soft beep from his shoulder reminded him the mini-nik was still hanging out there. "What's with you?" *Beep* "I know, I should probably rest." *Beep!* "Look who's talking, you've been off your charging pad all day." he scolded. The mini-nik let out a 'rrr', returning to the charging pad that sat nearby. Robotnik shook his head and stood, a cat-like yawn and stretch making his spine pop. Setting the lab to rest mode, he retired to his room. Back at his desk the mini-nik settled in to charge. It beeped in surprise as the door to the lab flew open and the doctor stormed in and dove back into his research. Feeling curious, the mini-nik snuck off to his room to see what had distressed him. Scanning the room, it found a small, red box of the doctor's favorite chocolates had been left on his pillow.

To be continued...

#fanfic #stobotnik #ivo robotnik #agent stone #emotional triggers #anxiety attack #part 6

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giuliettagaltieri · 2 years ago

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Project: Galatea

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x AI!reader

Synopsis: Allowing you sentiency made things more complicated between you and Miguel. But Peter Parker from Earth-199999 decides to take on an unfinished impossible project of his late mentor, and possibly bring you and Miguel back together.

Warning: Questionable nerd writing, spiderverse context, angst

Word Count: 6218

1 of 3

You are one of Miguel O’Hara’s greatest regrets.

You were created as an artificially intelligent system and with the advancements brought by the time Miguel created you, he was able to make you connect, bond, and feel. He was lax with your restrictions. Thinking of you as a companion than a holographic computer system.

He gave you a name that is not patterned to your system, it was just a name he gave you as he thought it suited your features that was just generated by the programming. He wanted your appearance to be something that is yours, and not something that he created based on what he preferred.

You usually sat on Miguel’s shoulders before he even became Spiderman, working as a bioengineer at Alchemax. He knows it’s late when you start yawning and you lean on him for a nap, kind of like how someone would put their phone on a power saving mode.

“Miggy, let’s sleep?” You often say as you plop yourself atop his hair.

He just chuckles as he works on his suit, getting tired of the easily ripped fabric of his previous gear, he decided to create one that is made of unstable molecules. “You can go offline. I’ll have to finish this.”

“’M not sleeping if you’re staying up.” You huff. “Come on, you can work on that tomorrow.” You fly in front of him and cross your arms.

He notes how your halo is a bit dimmer. “Alright.” He often wondered if you can really get sleepy. You are created through codes and though it is evident that you can have emotions, you can’t possess qualities the same as a real person would.

Your wings flutter excitedly as you flap them so you can perch yourself back on his head.

It was a little inside joke between you. You are the rational voice when he is about to do something stupid. An angel on his shoulder. Your sudden appearance would often startle his enemies and wonder what the fuck you are and you would simply smile, point at Miguel and say, “I’m his conscience.”

Your halo and wings often glowed in the softest hue of pink and white. Their hue depends on your mood.

Miguel yawns as he enters his bathroom. You shriek and shield your eyes when he lifts his shirt up to strip.

“You pervert!” You stomp your heel on his forehead and even though he can’t feel it, your annoyance was enough to amuse him, Miguel’s laugh was muffled by his toothbrush.

You often sit on the faucet as you wait for him to finish his shower.

“What does a shower feel like?” You muse, your chin resting on your hand while your elbow is perched on your thigh.

“Uh…wet?”

You roll your eyes at his response. You look away from him when he comes out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist.

“It’s refreshing, I guess.” Miguel shrugs as he scoops your light projected body on his large hand.

Your tiny hands hold his thumb for balance, not that you need it but you felt the need to anyway.

“Go offline now, firefly. See you in the morning.”

“Don’t forget to buy groceries tomorrow.” You say before flickering. “Goodnight, Miggy.” And you disappear.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He smiles.

On Sundays, you both share lazy mornings. He would often walk around his apartment in nothing but his boxers and you eventually get used to it. You would sit on his shoulders as he attempted to cook for himself.

“No, it should be three tablespoons of soy sauce, not teaspoons.” You would correct him every now and then and he would just switch the utensil, knowing that you have unlimited access to the recipes online.

You would lie on your stomach on the throw pillow he would put on his lap as you watched a movie. “She easily could have transferred the data and he won’t have to go through all that.” You would comment now and then as your tiny feet sway in the air. “But that’s fine, I guess, he looks hot fighting the bad guys.”

Miguel would jostle the pillow and you would dramatically roll as you struggled not to fall off, it was probably because of the spatial awareness he gave you.

You would often sulk when he goes on dates. Not responding when he asks you how to tie the piece of fabric that should be his tie. He often found you sitting on top of the bookshelf, your knees tucked to your chest as you drew shapes on the dust covered surface, the shapes not really being made, reminding you that you are only a projection, a hologram, an artificial being, someone who can’t be with Miguel.

“Oh, come one, firefly.” Miguel would sigh as he watched the soft glow behind the books. “It’s only a date.” But you don’t reply.

When he comes home, earlier than he should have been, he’s a little disappointed when you don’t greet him.

“Y/N? Where are you?” He calls as he looks around his apartment. His hands are already loosening his tie. “Come on, I didn’t even kiss her.”

Miguel chuckles lightly as he sees your head pop out from behind the picture frame containing a silly photo of the two of you. “You didn’t?” You ask.

“Nah, her breath stinks of onions.” Miguel throws his coat on the sofa and he collapses next to it.

You giggle and you fly to him, landing on his chest, laying down on your stomach once more as your hands support your cheeks. “Yeah? You didn’t like her?” You ask a little excitedly.

Miguel shakes his head as he keeps his eyes on you. He smiles when you cheer out of happiness.

He would also have fun watching you play dress up in front of his holographic tablet. He’s in his bed, just lounging and you’re on his abdomen, swiping the screen to find a new dress to wear. Miguel glances at the clock on his nightstand. You’ve been at it for hours.

“I like this one, what do you think, Miggy?”

The man turns to look at you, only for his spit to go down the wrong tube, making him hack. “What the hell is that?”

You look at the white skin tight dress that covers your tiny holographic body. “A dress?”

Miguel frowns at you. “Says who?”

A cute brow is raised at him. “Calvin Klein.”

He clicks his tongue. “It looks like underwear. The fuck would you choose such an old brand for?”

You scoff and continue to scroll to look for something else. “It’s a classic.”

“Well, I don’t like it.”

Then it happens one day.

You are helping Miguel battle Mysterio when he meets her. He caught her just before she fell to her death.

Next thing you knew, they were going on dates.

“Yeah, I know. I’ll deal with the symbiote sighting tomorrow evening.” He says hurriedly as he makes his way to his front door but you land on the doorknob and you look at him angrily.

“You can’t choose a girl over an entire city!” You say sternly as you place your hands on your hips.

Miguel raises a brow and smirks down at you. “What an exaggeration. Are you jealous?”

Your frown deepens. “Miguel, you can’t seriously go on a date when Carnage is at large!”

He straightens up and looks at you, annoyed. “If I wear the mask all the time, I’ll go mad. Just let me be Miguel O’Hara for tonight.”

Miguel does not return to his apartment that night.

And you don’t respond to his calls for a week.

“You’re such an inconvenience, Y/N.” He quips. “I made you so you can help me with my work.” He says as he looks around for the villain that was wreaking havoc in the city. “Stop sulking and do your job!”

You would reluctantly pop out and help him, only speaking when needed, giving him the information that he needs and nothing more.

It was difficult for you to watch Miguel slowly fall in love with her, and even more so when he loses her.

He became sad and angry, very angry.

“Miguel? You need to rest.” You say softly as you watch him perfecting an experiment. You peer on his work and your eyes widen when you see a powerful focused energy hovering on Miguel’s work table.

You immediately fly to his face. “Are you mad? Do you realize what you are doing?” He turns to the other screen but you follow him around. “You can’t tamper with time and space like that.”

All lights suddenly go off and Miguel exhales deeply through his nose, his eyes full of rage as he glares at you. “Power it back on.” His voice is low and it was the first time you have ever felt fear because of him but you stand your ground.

The man does not falter with his disapproving look on you but you refuse to power his computers back to life. You won’t just stand around and let him interfere with the natural order.

“My name is Miguel O’Hara and I am authorizing a shutdown sequence.” He says and you frantically look around as a bright red screen flashes behind you.

“Miguel, don’t do this!” You cry to him, your eyes begging as you press your tiny hands on his cheeks but his eyes remain cold as he stares at the screen.

“Commence shut down of the Intelligent Digital Assistance System. Project name: Galatea.” Miguel looks at your pleading eyes. “For good.”

He watches your eyes fill with sadness before your form flickers just like how it used to whenever you whisper ‘Goodnight.’ And he watches the pixelated tear roll down your cheek before you disintegrate into a million tiny pieces.

The events that followed after his decisions of tampering with the fragility of the multiverse was his punishment.

There was no undoing it all.

He wished he just listened to you when you tried to stop him. It wouldn’t have come to all of this.

Now, he dedicates his life to protecting what else is left. Trying to keep the multiverse intact to prevent the same mistake from happening.

And Lyrate Lifeform Approximation was created, or Lyla.

Miguel made her different from you. Lyla is created to be more objective, more functional, with just a right amount of spunk for a bit of personality.

The Spider Society was then formed. A strike force dedicated to keep the multiverse from tearing apart.

In there, he found a sense of sympathy. The people in there suffered just like him. A lot of spider-people were in pain. But not all of them knew how to follow orders. Not thinking about the consequences of their actions. Never willing to sacrifice a portion of themselves for the greater good.

Like Miles Morales.

Or Peter Parker of Earth-199999.

They both came around eventually, after a couple or more heart attacks from Miguel.

Peter Parker was trying to learn from Spider-Byte and how future tech works. He was given a specific holographic screen in the corner and he’s been trying to pick it apart for hours.

“Wow, Ned’s not gonna believe this.” He whispers as his eyes dart from one file to the other, being connected like faint orange lines.

“Hold on, what’s this?” Peter mumbles as he taps on a tiny file that is placed separate, somewhere isolated, forgotten.

“Can I?” Peter scratches his jaw. “Should I?” He shrugs before opening the file. He rolls his chair backward as the tiny file explodes to the most intricate coding he has ever seen. He saw something like this before. When he studied Tony’s AIs. Or at least what was left of them.

He clicks on a file, one of the millions. A large ‘RESTRICTED’ was flashed on the screen in bold red letters. He tries again and the same word is flashed. He tries again and again until he sees Miguel O’Hara himself in front of a mirror and a miniature angel on Miguel’s hand.

“You like it?” Miguel asked.

The holographic angel nods excitedly, pure joy evident in her eyes. She twirls around in front of the mirror, inspecting her wings and adoring her tiny halo.

“Miggy, it’s perfect!” You fly up to kiss his cheek. The connection between you was impossible to miss.

And the screen goes blank.

“Are you kidding me?” Peter grasps his hair as he jumps around in excitement. Peter squints his eyes to read the file name. “Galatea.”

“Greek mythology Galatea?” Spider-Byte wonders behind Peter.

Peter flinches, his sidersense clouded with the amount of enthusiasm being contained in his body. “I-I don’t know. I don’t know yet. It’s-”

“That’s the file name of my older sister, Y/N.” Lyla suddenly pops out between them.

“Lyla, you know her?” Peter asks, not being able to hide his eagerness. “Is she an AI like you?”

Spider-Byte and Peter look at her in anticipation. “I’m not sure if I should talk about her.” She looks skeptical before she breaks into a wide grin. “Well, there’s no order for me not to so I suppose I can.”

Two sets of eyes follow Lyla around as she glitches towards Peter’s screen and she pops up a photo of you sitting on Miguel’s head as the two of you wore similar aviators.

“She’s Miguel’s first AI companion. Way before the Spider Society was even created, before he was even Spiderman, I think.” Lyla rubs her chin as she opens her own tiny screens. “Though, I’m not sure. Miguel replays their videos together in the dark when he thinks he’s alone but I can’t really find most of her files.”

“It was compressed there.” Peter points at the screen, trying not to get distracted from what Lyla just told them. “Did she get corrupted by a virus?” His thoughts wandered to the articles he read about Ultron.

“No. She uhm.” The small screen Lyla created vanished, making her glowing face look a bit dimmer. “Her program was shut down.”

Spider-Byte glanced at the screen that has you and Miguel in it. “Why shut down a working program?”

Lyla glances at your face on the screen. “She was created differently. More empathetic and subjective. For some reason, she was sentient.”

Peter gawks at her and he shares a look with Spider-Byte. “Was that even a possibility?” Spider-Byte asks.

Shrugging, Lyla gives them a tight-lipped smile. “Well, it happened, didn’t it?”

“She was sentient but she was shut down?” Peter asks incredulously. “Did she go rogue or something?”

Lyla shakes her head no. “She was the total embodiment of those wings and halo.”

“Then why was her program shut down?” Peter asked, his face twisted in pure confusion and disbelief.

Lyla doesn’t respond and turns to your picture with Miguel and your matching smiles.

Spider-Byte sighs. “They got too attached, didn’t they? Her and Miguel?”

Peter frowns at her question but remembers Wanda and Vision J.A.R.V.I.S.

An impossible idea pops in Peter’s head. It’s irrational, risky, and impulsive but those are just some of the qualities Peter got from his mentor.

“Do you think Miguel would give her codes to me?” Peter blurts.

Lyla and Spider-Byte looks at him as if he just asked if he could go break a canon.

“Absolutely not.” Was Miguel’s response to Peter when he finally asked the bigboss for your codes.

Peter curses under his breath. He even had to ask MJ and Ned to help him create a presentation as to why Miguel should give your codes to him.

“Oh, come on. I rehearsed that speech for a week!”

“She holds classified information. I can’t just give a copy of her to you.” Miguel says as he taps on his holographic screen.

“Not a copy. The original code.” Peter says more seriously. “Protocols and memory.”

Miguel pauses and glowers at Peter from his shoulders. The look was enough to make Peter second guess himself but his resolve comes back, stronger than ever.

“I’m trying to bring her back to you.” Peter says loudly.

This catches Miguel’s attention and he turns to look at Peter from above the platform in his office.

“Elaborate.” Miguel looks at Peter with a blank expression.

Peter pumps his fist secretly and clears his throat before speaking.

“I am currently studying bioorganics and I’m trying to complete an unfinished project of my mentor, Mr. Stark. He created a synthetic body that is not made of vibranium but something that is made of organic materials. You know, like a real person.”

Miguel looks at the screen next to him which is flashing Peter’s proposal. “And you want Y/N to bring life to that thing?”

“Well, it won’t be easy without the mind stone but I heard she’s quite sentient.” Peter explains while gesturing with his hand way too much, clearly nervous. “That is also assuming that her operational matrix adapts to the organic body.”

“What if you fail? I’ll lose all her data.” Miguel says, a threatening tone clearly heard in his voice.

“Last time her file was opened was years ago.” Peter quickly shut his mouth when Miguel throws him a dangerous look. “What I’m trying to say is, this is a chance. You could potentially see her again, this time, with a physical body.”

Miguel heaves a sigh and chooses to glare at the walls instead.

“I know something painful must have happened for you to shut down her program like that. But it doesn’t feel right to trap a sentient being in a set of codes.” Peter frowns at his feet and grumbles the next words. “Come on man, I’m trying to give you a chance to apologize to her, face to face.”

Silence fills the entire room.

Peter is waiting for Miguel to yell again but he is taken aback when he looks up to see a defeated and longing look plastered on Miguel’s face.

“Just…” Miguel pauses, it was difficult for him and Peter can see it. “Don’t destroy her code.”

“Thank you, Mr. O’Hara. You won’t regret it!” He beams at Miguel.

“I sure hope not.” Miguel turns to his screens to resume his work. “And Mr. O’Hara was my father. You can call me Miguel.”

Peter wasted no time and started working on the project right away when he got back to Earth-199999.

It was difficult, trying to follow Bruce and Tony’s work. Especially when the body is more susceptible and reactive. You even had the anatomy of a real person, inside and out.

The project was something that Peter cannot do on his own. He needed his friends and MJ and Ned were more than willing to help. Both were hesitant with the thought of literally bringing an AI to life, considering what happened before in Sokovia. They did not know you, MJ and Ned, they were wary as they should be with all the risks they were about to make.

Peter had to turn your code upside down, in and out, trying to look for glitches or any malicious intent but found none.

The three of them are taken by surprise as to what your synthetic body could do.

It was MJ who noticed first. You have a lymphatic system.

By next week, Ned finds out that you have a fully functional endocrine system.

There was always something in you that they discover for the first time when they delve deeper. Which makes it difficult for them to make real progress. Just as they thought they made a breakthrough, your synthetic body just shows another ability that blurs the line between you and humanity.

“You need to stop looking at her like a robot.” Miguel tells him one day as Peter seeks any advice from him, considering that he did work in Alchemax as a bioengineer. “Treat her like how you would treat a human.”

That was when Peter decided that just him and his friends can’t do it alone. They were only college students!

This project calls for someone who has a doctorate in medicine and knows the human body like the back of their hand.

It was difficult for them to get Stephen Strange to have a look at the setbacks they encountered in your body. But when given the right information and told what he wanted to hear, Stephen was already opening a portal to Peter’s dorm room.

“I’ll tell you what’s the problem.” Stephen says. “Some of her neurons are meeting in a terminal. Electrical impulses can’t get through, causing circuit failures.”

Peter squints on the holographic screen that Stephen zoomed in. “Yeah. That’s where the mind stone is supposed to be.”

“But the AI has an awakened consciousness, she won’t be needing it.” Stephen mutters more to himself. “And the mind stone's already gone.”

Ned walks over to look at the screen, a cup of hot chocolate in his hands. “But you’ll be able to redirect them, won’t you?”

Stephen does not respond, only staring intently at the holographic form of your shell.

MJ glances at the anxious look on Peter’s face as he awaits Stephen’s answer. When silence still follows, MJ rolls her eyes.

“Don’t get your hopes up too much, Ned.” She sighs, making Stephen narrow his eyes. “There could be a thousand neu-”

“A trillion.” Strange emphasizes.

“A trillion neurons to redirect. He might be a neurosurgeon but he is not a miracle worker.”

Ned sucks in a breath and raises his cup to his lips and sips quietly, eyes wide, awaiting Stephen’s response.

Stephen suddenly rips off the sling ring and slips it somewhere in his robes. Peter takes a step back, almost getting hit by Stephen dramatically taking off his cape. “I’m about to become your deus ex machina.”

MJ snatches a piece of bread sitting on Peter’s dining table and takes a bite, sending a wink to Peter.

“Stark really outdid himself.” Stephen marvels at your intricate anatomical structure. “The shell does mimic the human body, the nerves, fiber, and vessels.” Stephen squints at something and hums. “But there’s the issue of physiology.”

Peter looks at the metallic casket and to Stephen. “What about physiology?”

Stephen points at the left side of your pelvis. “That’s an ovary.” He drags his finger on the screen to point at the right side. “There’s another one here.”

Peter could only look at Stephen. Waiting for him to confirm what was running in Peter’s head.

Surely Tony did not think that far ahead to give you that ability. That is ethically ambiguous.

“It is possible that it is not functional.” Stephen rubs his jaw. “Perhaps we could think of it as a vestigial organ for now.”

Peter simply nods, following Stephen as he zooms in on your lumbar spine.

“She has a functional endocrine system.” Ned recalls, making Stephen whip towards him. “I ran a noninvasive test and I detected traces of estrogen, progesterone, and FSH.”

Stephen runs a hand on his face. “And hCG?”

Ned ponders for a moment. “Yeah, human chorionic gonadotropin was also there.”

MJ clutches her bread a little too tight. “She is capable of gestation?” Her voice came out as a shaky whisper.

All eyes turn to Stephen who shakes his head. “That is ridiculous!” He chuckles dryly. “That shouldn’t be possible.” He stares at the holographic image of the synthetic shell. “Was Stark trying to play God?” His voice was starting to raise, his fist clenching.

“Whoa, I’m sure that’s not it.” Peter raises a hand nervously as he gulps.

Strange points at the casket. “You realize you’ll be bringing a being to life that isn’t supposed to exist.”

“She has a name!” MJ interjects.

“You understand that you are overstepping your mortal bounds.” Stephen continues.

Peter looks at Stephen, shocked. “Please, sir! I-I only want to finish this project for Mr. Stark.” He points at your holographic body. “And set her free from her digital prison. We are about to give her a chance to live, like really live.”

Stephen glances at your metallic casket warily.

“She’s not a villain.” Peter says more calmly. “I checked her code a thousand times.”

Stephen shakes his head.

“I can’t believe I’m about to take part in a project that is the peak of Stark’s god complex.”

Peter grins.

The chance of meeting you does not seem so impossible anymore.

Miguel watches Peter Parker of Earth-199999 with a sharp glare.

The “project” that the kid told him about has been going on for six months but he has been given zero updates regarding your progress.

His jaw tightens when he catches the kid stealing a glance at him from across the cafeteria in HQ before ducking his head again.

“Why don’t you go ask him what’s wrong?” Peter B says blankly at Miguel as he stuffed his mouth with fries. “Kid’s been doing that for the past hour.”

Miguel scoffs. “If he has something to say, he will be the one to approach me.”

For the past months, Miguel has been dropping hints to Avenger Peter, the nickname seems to really make the kid happy so the entire Spider Society just rolled with it. Miguel made sure to assign him on missions that might aid his project. The kid can be dense sometimes in picking up indirect messages but Miguel does it anyway, almost sighing out a breath of relief when he watches Peter’s eyes glimmer with realization.

“Whope- Okay! I gotta run. See you around, Miguel.” Peter B snatches his drink and clumsily leaves.

Miguel glares at the man’s retreating form before he hears his name being called.

“What?” Miguel spits.

“Uh, is this a bad time?”

Miguel looks to his side and narrows his eyes at Avenger Peter. Finally, he mustered the courage.

“What is it?” Miguel straightens, his enormous arms crossing in his chest, looking a bit threatening.

Peter looks at the empty seat in front of Miguel, he’s not sure if it’s rude to just sit there without being invited to but he does it anyway.

“It’s about Y/N.” Peter whispers rather too loudly, basically defeating its purpose.

Miguel’s eyes flickered with fury, making Peter swallow harshly, trying to choose his words very carefully.

“I know I really took my time with the project but the good news is that we successfully transferred her code to the shell.”

Oftentimes, Miguel would pitch in sarcastic comments but he can feel the weight in Peter’s words that he finds himself closely listening, trying to take in every detail that Peter shares.

“We managed to synthesize her code and reprogrammed her synapses to sync and adapt to the body.” Peter heaves a breath. “But the thing is, we can’t get to wake her up.”

The crushing feeling of losing someone again was not easy for Miguel to ignore but he nodded at Peter’s words.

“Did you try amping the power source?” Miguel suggests.

Peter nods slowly. “Yes. We tried from nuclear fission to the arc reactor.” Peter leans back on the cafeteria bench, looking too nonchalant despite the shadiness of his words, Miguel won’t be surprised if one day he finds out that the kid’s locked up in prison for conducting mad experiments. “I was thinking of contacting Thor but I really didn’t know how.”

Miguel masks the disappointment in his eyes with a stern look. “Did you make sure that you got all her system matrix properly embedded in the body?”

“Definitely!” Peter nods. “It’s like she’s far away, dreaming. She’s there but she’s also not. Y/N’s shutting us out.”

A pindrop silence befalls them.

“What did you say?” Miguel says sharply to Peter as he leans slightly forward.

The kid unconsciously leans backward. “Y/N’s…shutting us out?”

It all clicks in Miguel’s head.

“She needs me.”

Peter’s eyes widened at his bluntness. “Huh?”

“I designed her program to only respond to me. I shut off her system. Of course. Her protocol does not recognize you.”

Slowly, Peter catches up, his eyes widening in barely contained excitement. “Is she programmed to activate upon voice command?”

Miguel rises to his feet, quickly making his way out of the cafeteria while Peter giddily follows, the largest smile plastered on his face.

“I’m certain I can get her to respond.” Miguel mutters as he taps into his multiverse gizmo.

The familiar building up sound of the portal fills the air and soon enough a cluster of patterns and colors emerge right in front of them.

With purpose in his steps, Miguel crosses the portal headed to Earth-199999, to you.

Peter’s room was nothing short of underwhelming compared to the building they just stepped out of but Miguel can see the traces of genius scattered around the room.

On top of a desk, piled notes for astrophysical physics. Next to the kitchen sink, a perpetual motion machine that is made of the most tedious house materials. In a corner, a phone is being charged and is hanging by the charger cord.

The lights suddenly power off, coating the room in darkness. “I know you’re sensitive to lights.” Peter shrugs, to which Miguel only nods.

“Stop right there!”

Miguel turns to see a girl threatening him with a piece of…toast? And another kid who is doing a very poor karate stance.

“No, MJ, Ned. It’s fine, he’s here to help Y/N.” Peter raises his hands and steps in between Miguel and the other kids.

“Where is she?” Miguel asks.

The kid trying to do the karate stance points to the corner of the room that is covered by a screen.

Miguel easily slips past them, he didn’t even have to try.

He ignored the calls as his feet just led him to where you are. He didn’t know what he should be expecting to see. But he knew it wasn’t the metallic casket.

“She’s in there.” Peter stands next to him. “It’s powered enough and it should activate when you power her system on.” Miguel can only nod at Peter’s words. “We don’t have a hypothesis yet as to what would happen when she rises. But we could probably expect that she would manifest signs similar to someone who just woke up from cryosleep. Orthostatic hypotension could also be a possibility-”

Peter pauses when he feels MJ’s hand on his shoulder. MJ nods to Miguel’s pained expression.

The time they spent on your project was enough to drive them nuts and they are dying to see you but looking at Miguel’s face, they know they might never fully understand the longing he feels.

Peter does not know what happened between you two but he can ask another day. He watches how Miguel’s fingers carefully brush the metallic casket. If Peter didn’t know better, he would have been greatly disturbed with the amount of vulnerability the man is showing.

“Well, we’re gonna step out for a bit as you wake her up.” Peter says with a softer smile gracing his lips. “And I really appreciate the hints you drop every now and then.”

MJ smiles at Peter and she interlaces their hands together. Ned nods at the two and follows them out.

The soft footsteps soon fade and the sound of the door locking into place reaches Miguel’s ears.

A quiet buzzing was audible from the box that contained you. It must have been the energy they tried to power you with. But it was endearing to him in some way that only he could wake you.

There were only a few times where a man of such stature as Miguel O’Hara was brought to his knees. This was one of them. His knees hit the cheap fabric of the carpet and his weight bears on his skin. Miguel lay his hand flat on the cool surface of the metallic box. And he leans his forehead to it.

With his voice hoarse, he whispers your name. He swallows the rest of the words. He does not know why. He cannot wait a second longer to see you but the fear grips him hard, just like how it did for years.

It was a cruel terror but his desire to see your face again overpowers any fear.

“My name is Miguel O’Hara and I am authorizing a startup sequence.”

Miguel grits his teeth when he does not hear the same beeping sounds that precedent your arrival. His forehead creasing at the memory of you begging him not to lock you away. He did not deserve you, not after what he did. But Miguel O’Hara is a selfish man and he would stop at nothing to have you back.

“Commence booting of the Intelligent Digital Assistance System. Project name: Galatea.” He sucks in a breath, this time, meaning the next words with all honesty. “For good.”

Silence has never been louder. It clogged the room, suffocating him.

“Please, wake up.” He brushes his lips on the freezing cold case.

A hiss is released by the contraption and Miguel’s eyes widen as he steps back to see you better. But as more hissing sound came, vapor flooded the area where the metallic flaps were slowly opening.

Then a hand grasped on the opened flaps, then came distressed gasping.

“Y/N!” Miguel didn’t know what he was doing, his body was acting on its own as he hopped inside the casket to help you sit up.

Your hair covers your face and Miguel reaches to brush them to the side, his large calloused hand rubs on your bare back to soothe you. It felt unreal to finally have you in his grasp, hearing you, seeing you.

You whimper in pain when a particular cough rasped on your throat.

“Hey, take it easy.” Miguel whispers as he crouches down so he can see you eye to eye. “Breathe.”

And when you look up to him with your eyes heavy with exhaustion, Miguel halts his movements as he feels himself being caught up in a temporal illusion.

Time, space, everything felt irrelevant the moment your eyes met his.

“M-Miggy?” You whisper.

Miguel breaks into a disbelieving smile.

He watches your moonlight bathed face contort to confusion. You raise your delicate fingers, reaching out to his face but stopping just before your skin touches. You hesitate, not sure if what you see before you is truly the man you loved.

The tips of your fingers brush on his cheek so softly, he almost doesn’t feel it and you let them run across his warm skin so you can cup his cheek.

Your chapped lips break to the smile he missed and loved so ardently.

He closes his eyes as he lets your fingers dance on his skin. He holds in a breath when your fingertips smooth out the crease on his forehead and his much larger hand captures your wrist.

For so long, he wanted to apologize. He did, countless of times, in the darkness and silence of his room, to a photo of you. His apologies only floating in the air, unheard.

“What I did to you was wrong. Everyday, I regret it. I promised you happiness when I created your code but I upset you and I have no right to be hurting in the way that I am. I was so stupid for shutting your system down when you were only looking out for me.”

The moonlight bathed you, making you glow, an ethereal sight to behold.

“I wasn’t ready to say goodbye when you shut down my program.” You say as you place your hands on his shoulders. “But there is nothing you can ever do to make me stay mad at you.”

He was about to protest when you hushed him.

“I know.” You smile at him tenderly. “You don’t have to say anything else. I know.”

Miguel could feel his chest tightening. The complexity of the quantum physics, he has no trouble understanding, but what you do to him, he is easily lost. “I don’t deserve you, firefly.”

You nod. “No, you don’t.” You yawn before flashing him a sleepy smile. “But I’ll stay with you anyway.”

He chuckles, eyes boring into yours.

You are as stubborn as he remembers you to be.

Your breath mixes together as you let yourselves draw to each other.

His arm slips to your waist, pulling you flush to him.

“Pervert, I’m not decent.” You mumble against his lips. “I have so many questions.”

“Save them for later.” Miguel captures your lips in his. You let out the deepest breath you have taken and you let him mold your lips together. “I screwed up.” He slots your bottom lip between his and he nibbles. “But I could spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

You hum, amused. “Are you sure about that?” He kissed your shoulder. “I can be quite a handful.”

The corner of Miguel’s lips tugs upwards. “Believe me, I know.”

A teasing smile creeps on your lips and the half-lidded eyes that you are giving him are making him feel fuzzy, it was like you were never apart.

“You are so in love with me.” You press the tip of your finger to his chest, teasingly accusing him.

He shakes his head as he laughs.

“Always have been.”

Project: Galatea • Project: Pandora • Project: Eros

Ficart created by @tired-lime

#miguel o'hara x reader #Miguel O'Hara x you #Miguel O'Hara #Spiderman 2099 x reader #Spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spider verse #ATSV #Miguel O'Hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction

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