#highlight headers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

a-simple-spiders-oc-dump · 1 year ago

Text

NEW AND IMPROVED INFO ON UNIVERSE 1 AND THE FUNNY LITTLE GUYS WHO LIVE THERE

I decided to make an update to the original info post I made, since I changed the canon a lot since I made it. Plus, the old one was based on an even older character doc that didn't go into very much detail and omitted a few decently major characters. So, what the hell!! New year new info.

THE BASIC PREMISE:

A young sorta-goddess named Alice was born alongside her own personal pocket dimension to rule over and expand at her leisure. After many years of this, Alice decides she wants to make the perfect friend for herself, but in creating Mikayla, she accidentally makes her perfect nightmare instead. Mikayla turns against her creator, forming a pact with the monstrous Breaks to act as their commander in exchange for her world's eventual destruction, and Alice does not have the strength to create her own army to oppose them. In desperation, Alice turns her sights back to the Earth she was born to, and begins to build her army a different way - with the souls of those who died young and unhappy. The story follows the humans trapped in Alice's domain as they fight to survive in the hopes of one day thriving in this strange new world, while still struggling to deal with the scars from their pasts. The main story takes place sometime around 2016-2018.

SOME WARNINGS: mentions of death, abuse, school shootings, human experimentation, body horror, murder, bullying, car crashes and suicide. none of these will be discussed in depth (outside of the death part, since I will be mentioning how each of Alice’s soldiers died, and potentially the body horror part when it comes to describing Alice's guards), and will only be briefly mentioned, but I felt it was worth adding this warning nonetheless. let me know if there’s anything else I should add to this warnings list, and I’ll make sure to add that warning both to this and any future piece that may contain that particular content.

NOTABLE TERMS:

Authors - Someone with power over a Realm. The name is a shortened version of the word “authority”, as well as the term 'author/auteur' as used to refer to the primary creator of different forms of art. They look like normal people in their home worlds, but are reality-warping gods in their Realms. They can either be born this way (Founding Authors) or can be turned into an Author by a different Author (Inherited Authors). If an Author dies and hasn’t selected anyone to be their ‘heir’, their Realm crumbles and dies. The term has some variations - Alice, for example, refers to herself as an ‘Authoress’ as a more fancy and feminine version of it - though ‘Author’ itself is considered a gender-neutral term. They have a tendency to become fixated on making specific types of objects/creatures, and they become more and more powerful the more they create, though if they use their abilities too much too quickly, their bodies can begin to auto-cannibalize themselves similar to starvation in order to keep feeding their powers.

Realms - Miniature universes created by an Author’s birth, sometimes considered to be the Author’s twin. They are sentient to some extent, though are so different from most lifeforms that they cannot communicate aside from puppeteering creatures (usually Creations) to do their bidding. Their Author(s) keeps them stable, and if the only Author dies without picking a replacement, they do too. The majority of the story takes place in one of these Realms (exceptions being prequel short stories that take place on Earth).

Creations - Living creatures made by Authors to serve a specific role in their Realms. Creations are given a ‘purpose’ by their Author that forms the backbone of their identities, which can range from specific tasks they must fulfill to simply live however they choose. Aside from that, they can look like practically anything, and their mindsets can range dramatically from "exists only to perform this particular task with no individual personality to speak of" to "smarter than a human with a clear and defined sense of identity". Think of them as biological robots - some are closer to androids in sci-fi media, while others are more similar to roombas, but they're all classified under the same umbrella.

Breaks - Hive monsters that spawn in the void between worlds, meant to be one part training and one part punishment for Authors who break the Unspoken Rules (which are unspoken because no one really knows what they are). They can form pacts with Real creatures as well as Creations to grant them powers in exchange for the individual becoming the focal point of their hive mind, and want nothing more than to devour Realms from the insides out.

Life Force - The energy that keeps all living creatures alive. Humans are the baseline, with a reasonable amount of Life Force that can allow for bursts of incredible strength, speed and mental processing when in life-threatening situations; Creations have about half to three-quarters the Life Force of a human, as they typically do not need to ever use it and all of their Life Force must be provided by their Author when they're created; and Authors have the abilities they do because they have an abnormal amount of Life Force that only grows larger and larger the longer they live, and the ability to manipulate it at will. Life Force can only be drained by either using abilities that require Life Force, or by spending time in a universe that is not your own. If drained, the affected creature will grow more and more emaciated before beginning to decay alive.

CHARACTERS IN THE REALM/UNIVERSE 1:

(please note that even after all this time, a lot of these guys don’t have fully solid designs - I’m more of a writer than an artist and character designs don’t mean much when you’re not using a visual medium lol. I have at least vague ideas on how all of them look and I do want to give those ocs with less solid looks permanent designs in the future, but for now???? ehhhhhhhhhhhh I’d rather focus on the writing part lmao)

THE NEWCOMERS

Lydia

Age: 16 (nearly 17)

Role in the story: Protagonist

Appearance: Chubby girl with long, wavy blonde hair, warm-toned beige skin and blue eyes. Around 5'5-5'8. Wears a long, loose grey t-shirt with cut-out shoulders and a distinctive blue butterfly design with diamond-like wings on the bottom-left corner. This matches her prized necklace, which always hangs around her neck on a long chain, and her hairclip that pins the left side of her hair out of her eyes.

Rapid-fire personality info: -One of the two protagonists of the main story.

-Calm and friendly, always trying to see the best in others. Her life's motto is very much "hope for the best and prepare for the worst".

-Deeply committed to helping people, even at the expense of her own health - definitely fits the “paragon” archetype and will do anything if she thinks it’s for the good of those around her.

-Wanted to be a therapist someday so that she could improve peoples’ lives, and reads about psychology often in pursuit of that goal. She still wants to find a way to make use of her knowledge in her new situation, but isn’t sure how.

-Grew up moving from town to town after her mother passed away from a terminal illness; as such, she’s gotten very good at reading people and figuring out what makes them tick. (She’s not always as right about them as she thinks she is, though.)

-Feels her emotions intensely, and often cries when overwhelmed or scared, much to her own frustration.

-Can’t handle horror well at ALL, which makes it all the harder for her to adjust to her new life in the Realm. She never quite gets used to Alice’s side of the Realm, preferring to stick closer to the Soldier’s Camp.

-Just wants things to be okay and for everyone to be safe and sound. This is a much more complicated goal than it sounds, but by god is she determined to give it her best shot!

-Outside of reading about things like grief counseling and psychological disorders, she enjoys photography and doing little DIY projects to decorate her living space with; definitely the type to have one of those strings of Polaroids in her room that all the old aesthetic blogs back in 2013 loved.

-Has the ability to see the memories of others through her dreams. Big side effect is that whatever memory she brings up will be re-experienced by the memory’s owner while she does so, and considering almost everyone in the Realm has some sort of trauma, she needs to be careful what she makes them re-live. She also hates it in general because she really doesn’t want to breach her new friends’ privacy, but she doesn’t have a choice in the matter.

-Died in a car crash.

SINCLAIR HELLSPARK!

Age: 16

Role in the story: Protagonist

Appearance: Dresses more like they’re from an RPG than the same Earth Alice’s soldiers came from, or at least as close to that as they could get from the local thrift shop. (Dress for the world you want, not the world you have!) The most prominent part of their outfit is a long, slightly oversized brown leather trench coat that goes halfway down Sinclair’s calves, with a strip of red cloth pinned underneath the jacket’s collar roll to mimic a cape. The coat is left open to reveal a black t-shirt and black pants underneath, the latter being ragged at the bottom hems, with a pair of brown combat boots. (I could also see them drawing fake magic circles and runes and shit on the inside of their jacket or down the sides of their pants in gold fabric paint.) They wear a belt around their waist (unconnected to their pants) with a couple of satchels on it to store things, mostly small trinkets and snacks they’ve “borrowed” over time.

Rapid fire info: -One of the two protagonists of the main story.

-Boisterous, loud-mouthed, and generally seen as a pretty cheerful person, though they can also come across as a bit overwhelming and annoying without realizing; a large ham through and through.

-Grew up in a neglectful household and were never quite able to make friends. After a bit, they gave up on trying to get people to like them (kind of) (not really) (they tell themself that, anyway) and decided to just get real weird with it in a way they personally find cool.

-Likes to proclaim that they’re a powerful sorcerer, blessed by the spirit of a dragon to seek out the world’s oddities and protect the innocent with their powers and wit; they will threaten to curse people they don’t like and claim to cast blessings on people who are nice to them, though these never have any effect. Sinclair knows it’s bullshit but it’s FUN bullshit so they don’t plan to stop any time soon.

-Has a bit of Main Character Syndrome, fully believing that their life can and will play out like a story. They try to be genre-savvy in real life and have a tendency to assign character archetypes to people around them, no matter how little they fit that role. (For example, within an hour of meeting Lydia, Sinclair declares that she MUST be their rival.)

-Impulsive; they tend to leap before they look and don’t give enough thought as to how their actions might affect people around them. They’re prone to bouts of arrogance and can’t stand being underestimated.

-Genuinely wanted to get trapped in another world before ending up in the Realm, and are one of the few people to take to the Realm like a duck to water, though they quickly learn to be careful what they wish for.

-LOVES cryptozoology and parapsychology; their back-up dream if they didn’t get isekai’d was to start a cryptid-hunting TV show. They start off as sort of a bit of an overbearing fan towards Gamma, since he’s a figure in local urban legends where Sinclair once lived and they’re overjoyed to learn he’s actually real.

-Sinclair may be cringe but Sinclair is free.

-Died in a car crash.

ALICE’S INNER CIRCLE (+ Mikayla)

Alice

Age: somewhere around 14

Role in the story: Secondary character; an integral figure in the backstory

Appearance: Takes the form of an adorable young girl the majority of the time, with skin that both looks and feels oddly reminiscent of candle wax, owlish brown eyes and straight black hair that falls to her waist. She wears an opulent, knee-length dress reminiscent of a kid’s princess/queen costume. It has a square neckline, puffed sleeves with strips of brown fabric falling to her wrists, corset lacing in the shape of a heart on her stomach, a grey sash tied around her waist in a bow on her back, and brown skirt split in the center to reveal layers of translucent yellow fabric, surrounded by gold embroidery. Sometimes, Alice's soldiers have claimed to see her hair or pieces of her outfit move on their own. This is somehow one of the least weird things about her.

Rapid fire info: -Created the Realm and has god-like powers of reality-warping and creation; she refuses to let anyone forget either of these facts.

-Childish, and acts either cheerful or annoyed about 90% of the time.

-Callous and selfish, often disregarding human suffering as ‘not her problem’ despite being one of the very few people actively bringing them to her world in the first place; generally dislikes humans and especially adults (outside of Gamma, who looks and behaves like one), refusing to allow them into her home; she’d likely do this for all humans if not for the current situation.

-The only person she seems to care about besides herself is Gamma, owing to the long history the two share together and the deep trust that’s formed as a result, which tends to surprise people thanks to the two of them seeming like complete opposites. Gamma helps Alice work through her ideas and points out flaws in her plans, especially when it comes to aspects of humanity Alice is blind to; in return, Alice makes Gamma things she thinks will make him happy and helps to keep him grounded on difficult days, even if she doesn’t fully understand what he’s going through.

-Experiments with her powers for fun, with her most common experiment being the creation of a living creature without really paying attention and then taking it apart while it’s still alive to see what she got wrong. (This is essentially the Author equivalent of life drawing. Still more gruesome than it needs to be, though!)

-Hates admitting things that she sees as a blight on her reputation as an Author (i.e. caring about people, feeling emotions other than joy and rage, wanting to do things other than create, being wrong, etc.), as she takes great pride in her status.

-Morphs into a much less friendly looking version of herself when pissed off, and is prone to having her skin melt like she’s a wax figure when sufficiently annoyed. Even in her ‘normal’ form, her skin is noticeably cold, as though she’s a living corpse, and she often grins with a few more teeth than humans should have.

-She’s basically a weird little girl who was given god-like powers by chance and then let loose on the multiverse.

-If she dies, something terrible will happen…

Mikayla

Age: Has existed for 4 years (behaves and is generally treated like she’s in her late teens/early twenties)

Role in the story: Primary antagonist; an integral figure in the backstory

Appearance: Has replaced her face with a white, porcelain mask decorated with red swirls, and does not appear to have any hair. Her skin tone matches Alice’s - pale like candle wax - though it’s mostly covered by a long, hooded, ivory cloak and the black, veined bodysuit underneath that holds her body together as she regenerates. She’s probably around 5'8-5'10.

Rapid fire info: -Alice’s Creation, meant to be the perfect friend; unfortunately, to Alice this meant ‘basically a carbon copy of myself but taller’, which wound up backfiring horribly once Mikayla learned that she didn’t share Alice’s level of control over the Realm while still sharing Alice’s massive ego.

-Cut off her face to seal her pact with the Breaks, who gave her regenerative powers and limited ability to use portals; now wears a porcelain mask as a replacement face, and uses her cloak to mask her limbs as they regrow.

-Extremely manipulative, and does not take being told “no” well; she’s a massive control freak and tends to lash out without remorse when someone goes against her wishes.

-Switches personas on a whim, going from calm and collected to rage-fueled screaming on a hair trigger when she thinks it will keep people in line. She's very unpredictable as a result, and her soldiers walk on eggshells around her in a vain attempt to keep her from lashing out at them.

-Has a personal grudge against Alice, since Mikayla views Alice simply being alive as both a threat and an insult, and Gamma, since he made many attempts to stop her from achieving her goal to kill Alice. As such, she will do whatever she can to torment and torture them - especially Gamma, as a punishment for him not joining her mutiny.

-She’s basically the most destructive kind of sadism in humanoid form. Just an awful person who takes pleasure in hurting anyone she views as a potential enemy - including those on her own side, if she thinks it will keep them under her thumb.

-Has died at least three times before the main story starts. Unfortunately, this hasn’t stopped her.

Gamma

Age: Has existed for around 8 years (behaves and is generally treated like an adult)

Role in the story: Deuteragonist; a mentor figure for Sinclair; an integral figure in the backstory

Appearance: Very tall (around 6'7-6'10), extremely pale (to the point where other characters’ narrations have remarked he looks like he’s never gone out in the sun in his life), and muscular by necessity for his job. Has black hair that’s always slicked back to his head and golden eyes that never blink with noticeable dark circles underneath. Wears a black suit with a white dress shirt and golden tie underneath. While the suit repairs itself after fights, the lapels and wrists of his sleeves are permanently tattered due to his jacket being a prototype by Alice (Alice could make him a better one now, but he got attached to the original, much to Alice’s chagrin - it’s like a family member hanging an old piece of art you did in high school in their living room to her). His skin on his arms and legs is a slightly different shade from the skin on his head and torso.

Rapid fire info: -A Creation whose guiding purpose is to protect Alice and her Realm; this quickly extended to the human soldiers once he learned how fragile they truly were. He’s tasked himself with keeping an eye on Alice’s other guards to make sure they’re doing their jobs properly, too.

-Also in charge of the transportation of the dead teenagers from their world to the Realm. Most of the soldiers don’t like associating with him due to this fact, and a good chunk of them outright despise him for being the one to directly trap them in this place.

-Reserved, serious, and excessively secretive. That last part is largely because he’s not one hundred percent sure what does and does not unnerve humans, and so he tends to hide information he thinks might cause them distress, even if it ends up being something benign.

-Constantly researching things like anthropology, sociology, psychology and history just for fun, since he finds Earth absolutely fascinating. It’s basically an alien planet to him, and he has a deep respect for its inhabitants. Alice has joked on occasion that he’d start a human fanclub “if he had ten percent less dignity and anyone who’d join it.”

-One of the few people Alice views as something close to an equal, which is more than anybody else can say. This is due to their long history together, which according to Gamma, includes her saving his life numerous times, and led to him becoming her bodyguard to return the favour.

-Has been through Some Shit before the wars even began, and his mental health is incredibly poor as a result; he blames himself whenever things go wrong in the Realm out of reflex, tends to have extreme fight-or-flight responses to perceived threats, has a self-esteem in the negatives and copes by being almost fanatically devoted to his given role compared to Alice’s other guards. Most notably, he seems to fall into extreme panic when surrounded by the colour teal…

-Seems to have some odd abilities that it’s assumed Alice gave him, since he’s much stronger than a normal human and has a tendency to know things he really has no right knowing (the latter is thanks to him constantly hearing the thoughts of everyone around him; it’s less of a power to him and more like a sense. He fully believed this was a Normal Human Experience for most of his life, and when he learned the humans weren’t letting him read their thoughts willingly, it freaked him out badly enough that he suppressed this ability as best as he could manage, to the point where all he hears now are muted whispers unless he directly ‘tunes in’.)

-Is absolutely bewildered by Sinclair not only tolerating him but actually seeming to enjoy his presence, and he warms up to them over the course of the story.

-this man has so much going on with him I swear to fuck. he's kind of the default protagonist for anything taking place before Lydia and Sinclair show up on the timeline, and he’ll probably be in a LOT of the prompt fills lmao

-Hasn’t died yet, despite the universe’s best attempts.

ALICE'S SOLDIERS

Cynthia

Age: 17

Role in the story: Secondary character, somewhat of a mentor figure for Lydia and Sinclair; an integral figure in the backstory

Appearance: No solid outfit design just yet. (Her old outfit was designed when I was around 14 years old and included a t-shirt that said ’#SWAG’ on it. I wish I was fucking joking.) What I know for now is she has olive-toned skin and a bob hair cut, dyed a dark blue/indigo, along with grey, almost silver eyes. She likely has a muscular build out of necessity, and probably wears something simple and easy to move in in case of a surprise attack.

Rapid fire info: -Co-leader of the Soldier’s Camp; also one of the very first humans in the Realm.

-Used to be somewhat snarky with a heart of gold shining through, but the massacre that was the First Break War made her withdraw to the point that she’s become extremely stoic.

-Asked Alice to remove her memories of her past life during the First Break War so they wouldn’t hold her back; some suspect Alice took a little more than just that.

-Hard to read, and comes off as cold to most people, only really opening up to Dylan since they went through the First Break War together, and forged a deep trust as a result. She’s usually the one to push him to go and rest when he starts putting too much on his shoulders (and he’s usually quick to point out how hypocritical it is for her of all people to say this, lmao)

-Focuses mostly on strategy, supplies and upkeep of the camp while Dylan takes care of the human element. Extremely practical and a bit of a workaholic, to the point of requesting a murphy bed for her bedroom so she could use it as an office (with her reasoning being, “there’s no point in having two separate rooms when one could serve the same purpose.”).

-Is responsible for multiple quality of life features for the Camp in some way, including walkie-talkies the soldiers can use to warn everyone of potential attacks and repurposing some areas of the under-populated camp to be for storage of emergency supplies. Spends much of her time considering what she could request to improve things further.

-Almost all the soldiers see her as the Realm’s ultimate authority figure due to her strict nature - considering Dylan’s more relaxed attitude and Alice being… well, Alice - though some (like Morgan and Sydney) aren’t afraid to talk back to her if they feel like it.

-Deeply despises Gamma for reasons even she doesn’t fully understand; it seems to stem from the time right before she got her mind-wipe. He’s the only person she’ll actively lash out against, and he never so much as protests.

-Has a love of music, and if she isn’t busy working to make sure the camp has everything it needs to keep everyone happy and healthy, she can typically be found in her room, listening to music on a pair of headphones and tuning out the world. (Though, naturally, she keeps her walkie-talkie on her at all times in case of emergencies.)

-Her cause of death is unknown, though it’s assumed she was stabbed or impaled in some way due to her death scar (a large, jagged cut just below her ribcage).

Dylan

Age: 18

Role in the story: Secondary character, mentor figure for Lydia

Appearance: No solid design just yet. What I know for now is that he has sepia/brown skin, short hair, and mostly wears a faded blue hoodie over a black t-shirt and a pair of navy blue jeans. (Outfit might change with time)

Rapid fire info: -Co-leader of the Soldier’s Camp.

-Generally a relaxed, optimistic person who does his best to keep the morale of the camp high; he’s basically what Lydia wishes she could be, and he quickly takes her under his wing once he realizes how much she reminds him of both himself and Cynthia when they first arrived.

-Helps newcomers get settled in the Camp, and acts as mediator for disagreements; some joke that he’s essentially the camp’s HR guy, or sarcastically call him the “Camp’s Counselor”. Most of the younger members look up to him like an older brother, and it’s a role he’s happily taken to (largely as a way to cope with missing his family from Earth deeply - especially his younger sister, Dawn, who he was once very close with).

-Doesn’t talk about his own problems much to avoid troubling people, though most are aware that he gets severe anxiety upon hearing gunshots and will warn him if a movie or game will contain them. Everyone in the camp thinks he came out of the First Break War unscathed because of this, since he doesn't really show any signs of trauma from it. He absolutely did not.

-One of the few who spoke with Gamma before they died; as such, he’s one of the few soldiers who isn’t all that intimidated by his presence, and often goes to speak with Alice and Gamma on the camp’s behalf. One of his weekly chores is to just gather everyone’s requests and bring them to Alice’s Manor, since he’s the only one willing to do it.

-Used to be in the swim team in his school and played in a band with his two best friends - Tyler and Kieran - since the beginning of high school (he did guitar and backup vocals). He was also often among the top five highest-scoring students in many of his classes. Unfortunately, most of these skills and achievements are completely useless in the Realm, much to his chagrin.

-Still enjoys playing the guitar and regularly requests sheet music to learn new songs in his free time, as well as coming up with new ones on his own. Sometimes, he plays for Cynthia while they’re relaxing. He knows all of her favourite songs by heart at this point.

-Died in a school shooting.

Morgan

Age: 18

Role in the story: Secondary character

Rapid fire info: -Medic for the Soldier’s Camp

Appearance: Has albinism, so her hair is a very pale grey (long, but often pulled back into a bun, with lash-grazing bangs), her skin is pale and pinkish, and her eyes are red (which is actually very uncommon for people with albinism, but considering her spite towards Alice… Yeah, they weren’t always that colour). She’s noticeably tall compared to the others - probably around 5'10 - 6'1. She wears a plain white t-shirt with pale grey jeans under a long, burgundy cardigan that falls to the back of her knees in a silhouette similar to a lab coat. Her fingers and lips are permanently discolored from her death, stuck a greyish-blue.

Rapid-fire personality info: -Both a soldier and the senior of the camp’s two medics; she wants to give up her medical duties to stick to solely fighting instead, but she can’t bring herself to dump those responsibilities solely on Trinity’s shoulders.

-Had a rough upbringing where she was put under constant pressure to succeed that burnt her out, and the First Break War killed the last remnants of any optimism Morgan once had; now, she’s resentful towards the world and everyone in it for her shitty circumstances, lashing out at anyone who dares come close to her when she’s in a bad mood (which she nearly always is).

-Known for her sharp tongue, harsh criticisms of others, and tendency to estimate to newcomers’ faces how long she thinks they’ll live - usually no longer than a month - giving her a reputation for being cold and cruel. The twins have nicknamed her “The Ice Queen” because of this.

-At the same time, she is the most skilled soldier the Realm has, considering her incredible combat skill and her high amount of medical knowledge, and she works tirelessly to maintain that status; a perfectionist to her core, Morgan cannot stand being “only” second best.

-Has an ongoing feud with Sydney due to their clashing worldviews - Morgan believing Sydney’s a complete idiot who’s destined to get herself (and possibly others) killed with her thrill-seeking, Sydney believing Morgan’s a killjoy who’s dead set on making a shitty situation even shittier, especially for the newcomers who are already in an incredibly stressful position. Neither are entirely wrong, but neither are entirely right either.

-Is unlikely friends with Trinity, due to Morgan appreciating her dedication to her unwanted role and far better bedside manners, and Morgan does her best to keep her abrasive side to a minimum around Trinity to keep the kid from getting scared of her. Every day, Morgan resents the fact that Trinity ended up in the Realm at all, and she’ll do whatever it takes to keep her from suffering any more than she already has. (There might be a little projection happening there...)

-Isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty if it ends the war faster; to Morgan, the ends ALWAYS justify the means, especially if that end is a future where no one in the camp needs to suffer anymore.

-In what little downtime she allows herself, Morgan can usually be found reading fantasy novels in the camp’s library. Every now and again she’ll also paint with Trinity, if the kid invites her.

-Died of hypothermia

Sydney

Age: 16

Role in the story: Secondary character

Appearance: Has sort of amber-toned skin that’s patched with burn scars from her death, most prominently covering much of the right side of her head and almost the entirety of her hands and forearms. Since the right side of her head can’t grow much hair anymore, her short brown hair is styled into a comb-over, and she has light brown, orange-toned eyes. Wears a black leather jacket over a yellow shirt (which likely has some sort of flame pattern on it that gets covered up by the jacket) and shorts with spiked studs on the left side, with purposefully-ripped black leggings underneath.

Rapid fire info: -A former delinquent with a love of fire who fights Breaks with a nailbat (and occasionally flamethrowers) for the thrill of it all.

-The most Chaotic Good member of the team by far; she doesn’t give a shit about any rules if it means having a great time with her friends. She's decided that if she's stuck in a bad situation, then she's gonna have fun with it and live each day like it's her last.

-Has the most prominent death-scars of any of Alice’s soldiers, and while she was pretty self-conscious of them when she first arrived, she doesn’t really care anymore, proudly wearing outfits that have them on full display. It’s half posturing to make herself seem more badass, and half Sydney trying to show newcomers that their scars are nothing to feel ashamed of.

-An adrenaline junkie at heart. When there aren’t enough Breaks to fight, Sydney will start doing stupid stunts to get the same rush, much to Morgan’s intense chagrin; this directly led to their ongoing animosity in the Main Story.

-Helps train newcomers alongside Dylan; newcomers often see her as a cool big sister figure, but don’t tend to look up to her as much as they look up to Dylan, thanks to Sydney discouraging it and being far more irresponsible in general.

-She’s kind of the “if I just keep moving at all times then my problems can never catch me!!” type, and tries not to dwell on bad situations any longer than it takes for her to make a shitty joke about them.

-Has always had a certain love for fire, but the stressors of the Realm have turned it into honest pyromania; it’s well-known that when Sydney’s under a lot of stress or incredibly pissed off, she’ll gather random shit and start a bonfire somewhere out in the forest. She is single-handedly responsible for Alice forest-fire-proofing the woods around the camp.

-Is good friends with Troy and Bianca, and she often shirks her duties to hang out with them. They can often be found either in the Main Hall’s living room area watching movies, or in the Hall’s hidden rec room playing different party games with them. (Sydney adores action movies and fighting games the most, along with FPS games.)

-Died in a house fire.

Trinity

Age: 13

Role in the story: Secondary character

Appearance: Looks even younger than her age, with many newcomers mistaking her for being 10 or 11. Has fawn, freckled skin, and dirty blonde hair that’s always pulled into a tight braid over her shoulder, along with deep green eyes. Wears a short/cuffed-sleeve, green button-up shirt with a darker green scarf covering her entire neck, and khaki shorts with cuffs that just barely scrape the tops of her knees.

Rapid fire info: -A girl who turned out to be a medical prodigy, brought into the Realm when they needed medics most - which is all very convenient, isn’t it? :) As of the 'present day’ in story, she’s the junior of the two medics.

-Extremely timid around people - especially strangers - due to a history of severe bullying; it can take a newcomer weeks to hear her voice for the first time. However, she takes comfort in helping others and is prone to showing a slightly more confident side of herself when doing her job due to the sense of agency it provides her.

-Very self conscious of the bruise on her neck left by her death, often hiding it with a green scarf that also acts as something of a comfort item to her.

-Since she’s easily the youngest and most fragile member of the camp, all of Alice’s soldiers are extremely protective of her, doing whatever they can to keep her away from danger - Morgan especially so, to the point where she’s known to push Trinity away from people who may be dying so that Trinity doesn’t blame herself later if they do pass on.

-Tries to push Morgan to be less of a jerk to everyone around her; this works, but only when Trinity’s around, much to Trinity’s chagrin. Still, Trinity hopes that one day, Morgan can find some semblance of happiness, or at least peace.

-When she’s not in the infirmary, Trinity can be found either in her cabin painting, or in the greenhouse with her sketchbook. Natural landscapes and plants are her favourite subjects, and working on art helps to soothe her nerves. She’s pretty good at it for her age, too! Morgan’s cabin is full of her artwork, and she’s also given a couple pieces to Dylan and the twins.

-Died after falling out of a tree.

Troy

Age: 15

Role in the story: Secondary character

Appearance: I’ll be honest, I have basically nothing for this kid. I know he probably has shaggy ginger hair, and pale, freckled skin. He’s also probably pretty scrawny. That’s it. That’s all I’ve got for now. I kind of just imagine him as your average freshman tbh, lol

Rapid fire info: -Bianca’s twin brother

-The Realm’s only marksman, due to both how close-quarters Break combat tends to be, and due to Alice not wanting to constantly be using her energy to create ammo (and also to limit the amount of people who can kill her from long-range, should that ever become a problem). He uses specially-made airsoft guns that shoot pellets containing an Alice-made substance; it’s harmless towards humans with a sedative effect after around three to five shots, but an extremely potent acid when used on Breaks. This is largely due to the other soldiers fighting with melee weapons, along with one of their best fighters (Dylan) having trauma surrounding firearms; these guns were specifically made to look and sound different enough that they don’t set off any triggers for him while still being effective long-range weapons, though they do still make Dylan nervous to be around.

-Troy prefers machines and weapons to people; he can often be found tinkering with various devices around the camp or maintaining his guns to ensure they’re in tip-top shape. Meanwhile, he's often a bit awkward around people, especially those he's unfamiliar with, stumbling on his words and overthinking everything he says.

-The Resident Gamer of the group, with a particular love for retro arcade games. The most likely place to find him is in the camp’s hidden rec room, trying again and again to beat the nigh-impossible high scores Alice sets on each of the arcade cabinets when she makes them. He’s also a fan of FPSes and fighting games, and he and Sydney can spend hours competing to see which of them is the best.

-Has a bit of social anxiety not helped by Bianca pushing people away from the two of them, nor the fact that they were killed by a classmate who seemed perfectly harmless and friendly at first, giving him some trust issues that he keeps firmly under wraps.

-Knows he’s a bit boring compared to his sister and their best friend (Sydney), and it bothers him constantly, but he does his best not to let it show. He cares about both of them deeply in spite of this, especially Bianca - despite everything that's happened, she's still the closest person in his life.

-Knows that Bianca has issues due to their deaths, but doesn’t know just how bad those issues are, nor how to properly help her with them; he just does his best to be there for her and hopes it’s enough. (It’s not.)

-Generally just wants to make the best of the shitty situation he and his sister have been dropped in and stop the wars for good.

-Died by being stabbed three times in the chest.

Bianca

Age: 15

Role in the story: Secondary character

Appearance: Has shoulder-length, ginger hair often pulled into two short pigtails, along with pale, freckled skin and green eyes. Wears a large headbow shaped like a bat, along with a short-sleeved, almost retro-looking, knee-length, plain black dress with a red belt. The belt holds a large pocket knife, as well as a small sack full of throwing knives, in case of an emergency.

Rapid fire info: -Troy’s twin sister

-She and Troy were killed in the same incident - one that Bianca feels responsible for, as she’s the one who trusted their killer the most. Not only that, but she was forced to watch her brother die while being helpless to do anything to stop it. This has led her to become severely over-protective of Troy and extremely paranoid that anyone around them could turn out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing without warning.

-Acts cheerful and air-headed around other members of the camp despite this; while part of it is a ploy to get people to underestimate her, it’s mostly genuine - a bit of her old self peeking through the cracks.

-Has a fixation on knives as a result of her death, seeing them as something powerful, but only as long as they’re in her hands. She’s even been known to threaten people she sees as threats to Troy at knifepoint, though she’s never followed through when called on her bluff. If anyone else wields a knife against her, she panics, sometimes even to the point of passing out.

-Came to trust Sydney after one such incident, where Sydney made it crystal clear to Bianca that she wasn’t about to hurt either of the twins. Looks up to the older soldier quite a bit, and she’s the only person Bianca full-heartedly trusts to be alone with Troy.

-Was just beginning to really experiment with aesthetics when she died, and while keeping her brother around is her number-one priority, she loves to DIY new decorations for her cabin and often requests different clothing from Alice.

-Died by being stabbed multiple times in the abdomen.

MIKAYLA'S SOLDIERS

Dawn

Age: 18

Role in the story: Secondary antagonist

Appearance: I don’t have much for her just yet. What I know for now is that she has sepia/brown skin, eyes that are so dark brown they’re nearly black, has long hair tied into several braids tucked into a ponytail, and probably wears entirely black. I like the idea of her wearing a caplet of some kind.

Rapid-fire info: -Mikayla’s first success in creating a ‘general’ for her army, through a torturous process that involved trapping Dawn in a series of ever-worsening nightmares that only Mikayla’s intervention would save her from. (Fun fact! This is heavily inspired by a pixel animation on YouTube called Marenol, as well as the song O Light by KikuoHana.)

-Much like Cynthia, her experiences have left her severely withdrawn and seemingly emotionless, though Dawn is much more apathetic and blunt. She’s become a woman of few words, only speaking in short, clipped sentences when necessary.

-Has grown resentful of her brother, Dylan, as after his death she felt he had to fill his shoes to keep her family happy; considering that Dylan was naturally gifted in a lot of different areas, this led to Dawn spiraling when she couldn’t live up to those same lofty expectations.

-Half-believes Mikayla when she says the Soldier’s Camp is inhabited by Alice’s Creations and not real humans; as such, Dawn can be ruthless and cunning on the battlefield, though she hesitates to actually kill anyone.

-Is deeply terrified of Mikayla, largely because she knows full well that Mikayla could trap her back in the looping nightmares at any point if she messes up.

-Once each sibling learns that the other is in the Realm, they’re gonna be in for a rough time…

-I don't have much for her yet, largely because I really wasn't sure what to do with her before this rewrite.

-Committed suicide.

The Oracle

Age: 17

Role in the story: Secondary antagonist/character

Appearance: A malnourished girl with unruly brown hair who wears a long white nightgown at all times. Her body is wrapped with bandages, the most notable of which being around her eyes; taking the facial bandages off is not recommended, as it typically results in the Oracle shrieking until they’re returned.

Rapid-fire info: -A failed experiment of Mikayla’s to get a human to use Life Force the way an Author can, largely in order to create someone capable of seeing into the future. In some ways, she did succeed, though she absolutely destroyed the Oracle’s mind in the process.

-The Oracle has lost all sense of self, forgetting her past life entirely and becoming incapable of truly perceiving the present when she isn’t being directly spoken to. As a meager form of coping, the Oracle has dedicated herself entirely to the idea of ‘destiny’, viewing it almost like a god.

-Seems to view Lydia as a kindred spirit, which freaks Lydia out a bit. It makes her worry that her own powers could end up leaving her in a similar state (though that’s largely because Lydia doesn’t know what exactly led to the Oracle’s powers).

-There isn’t too much to say about the Oracle, largely thanks to her playing a small role in the story and her lacking much in the way of personal agency for much of it due to her circumstances.

-Cause of death unknown; assumed to be suicide.

ALICE’S TEAM OF GUARDS:

The Serpent

Age: Has been around for about three years.

Role in the story: Basically set dressing lol

Appearance: A massive snake made of dark grey stone, about twenty feet long, with a human-like hand where the tip of its tail should be that it uses to hold onto the door to Alice’s Garden. It has two curved horns on the top of its head and a mouth full of sharp, stalactite-esque teeth. Its eyes glow different colours based on the feedback it's received; in its neutral state they’re light purple, when a riddle has been answered correctly they glow red (because Alice wanted to fuck with people, basically), and when someone has failed its test they glow bright green.

Rapid-fire info: -A living security system Alice set up over the door to her manor. At first, the Serpent only tested a creature’s ability to speak before allowing them passage, but Mikayla proceeded to alter the Breaks so a few could mimic human speech, so Alice altered it to tell riddles instead. If you fail three times, you’re eaten alive, and while it does slowly assimilate its victims into the raw meat that makes up its insides, any unfortunate human consumed would die of dehydration due to how long this process takes. Thankfully, Alice can typically figure out if a human’s been eaten within a day or so, and will usually get the Serpent to spit them out. She won’t help with the acid burns, though - that’s not her problem as far as she’s concerned.

-Largely lacks a personality, as it doesn’t require it to do its job. However, it does seem to have some opinions, as it respects Gamma quite a bit as the lead guard and has a mild distaste for the gargoyles’ antics.

-Will gladly answer questions asked to it (once its riddle is solved, of course), though its answers can be cryptic and lead to even further questions.

-Is the main reason Alice’s soldiers really don’t like visiting her manor, since it freaks them the hell out (and to be fair, the threat of being eaten alive would do that to most people).

The Gargoyles (El and Ar)

Age: About three years old.

Role in the story: Basically set dressing lol

Appearance: They basically just look like dragon-esque gargoyles, made of the same grey stone as the Serpent, that are about the size of a large dog. Each has gemstones for eyes, with El’s being sapphires and Ar’s being rubies. (Fun fact! These two were inspired by two identical lion statues my grandma has outside of her house, framing her front door, though the irl statues are MUCH smaller than the gargoyles.)

Rapid-fire info: -Created to guard Alice’s Manor personally once the human soldiers got their own camp, as well as clean up the mess left behind after Break attacks. They have pedestals outside of the Manor’s front door - El sits on the left, Ar sits on the right.

-Absolutely inseparable, mostly because these two have a single brain cell to share between the both of them and it spends all its time thinking about meat. They have a penchant for speaking in unison and finishing one another's sentences.

-Both of them have identical, almost manic personalities, and it would be impossible to tell one apart from the other if not for their differing eye colours.

-They’re basically the Realm’s janitors, eating leftover Break flesh once attacks finish to keep the Realm (and especially the Soldier’s Camp) nice and clean. The humans aren’t big fans of them, due to their winning personalities, and Gamma shares this opinion, largely thanks to the two of them shirking their duties more often than not to go hunting in the woods together. (Alice thinks they’re funny little guys, though.) Fortunately, they’ve been specifically programmed to find the taste of human flesh repulsive.

-The best way I can describe them is that they have seagull vibes. They’re like if you made a seagull the size of a dog and gave it the ability to speak.

Diver

Age: Less than a year old

Role in the story: Basically set dressing lol

Appearance: Its head is a massive, seven-foot-tall brass antique diving helmet, from which three immense tendrils made of some sort of black sludge protrude. It has no sensory organs to speak of, but it seems to be able to navigate just fine, even getting a bit too close to humans it gets curious about as if to get a better look at them.

Rapid-fire info: -Alice originally created this funky thing as an experiment, then liked it so much she gave it its own fountain in her backyard and made it a guard.

-Has about the same mental capacity as a toddler, and is prone to doing odd things when it gets curious about something; is known to climb on top of the Manor’s roof and stretching up as tall as it can in order to see outside of the walls surrounding it, which is mostly just seen as a nuisance.

-It still has the craving for Break flesh, like most of its carnivorous peers. It can absorb any organic material it wants through its sludge, though it seems to be able to choose what it does and does not want to assimilate into itself, as it doesn’t consume things like grass by moving over it.

-It isn’t allowed outside of the Manor’s walls like the gargoyles are - largely because Gamma fears it might consume a human if given the opportunity and wants to keep a close eye on any interactions it might have with them, just in case - and as such, the other guards need to regularly bring it Break flesh to feed on. (Something the gargoyles like to “forget” to do so they can keep it all for themselves.)

Blitz

Age: Has existed for a little over eight years

Role in the story: Basically set dressing lol

Appearance: A mis-match of parts from different Earth animals, with the body and fur of an adolescent black lab that hasn’t quite grown into their paws yet, a feline head, a fox’s tail and large ears similar to a lop-eared rabbit’s. The tips of his tail and ears are white, as if they were dipped in white paint. Blitz also has a small clock embedded in his forehead (and maybe on his shoulders and flanks as well, haven’t decided yet), and through the gears you can catch glimpses of his brain.

Rapid-fire info: -Calling Blitz a ‘guard’ is a bit of a misnomer, but he doesn’t really fit in any other category (aside from Alice’s Inner Circle, but it felt misleading to put him above Cynthia considering his unimportance to the narrative); he’s the first permanent Creation Alice ever made, and he’s around largely to be a companion creature, though he’s really just chilling.

-Has no tongue (Alice got so caught up making sure the rest of him was perfect that he gained consciousness without one), so he’s easily mistaken to be more animalistic than he is by the humans, but he’s really got the mind of a small child and can communicate telepathically with Alice and all of her Creations with ease. Alice could make him a tongue, and has offered in the past, but Blitz prefers this.

-Has not aged physically or mentally since his creation because he simply does not want to. Because of this, Gamma treats him like a beloved younger sibling despite Blitz technically being older than him by several months, even reading the little guy bedtime stories regularly. The affection is mutual, as Blitz admires his ‘Big Brother’ a whole lot. (Enough that Blitz uses he/him pronouns purely because Gamma does and Blitz thinks Gamma’s cool.)

-Blitz is almost as curious about the humans as Gamma is, mostly out of childish wonder at these strange new beasts in his home, but Alice and Gamma won’t let him go outside any further than the Manor’s gardens since he’d be easy Break food. He’s very happy in the rare times that humans do come and visit.

Some Random Timeline Bullshit:

-Completely desensitized to gore and the like thanks to spending most of his time around Alice ever since he was made, but does get extremely sad when one of the humans or one of the guards die; he doesn’t fully get the concept of death, but he understands it just enough to know that it means he's never gonna see someone again.

-Quite literally exists to sit around being cute. He’s very good at it!!

Order of Arrival To The Realm: Cynthia (4.5 years before the main story (BMS)) -> Dylan (4 years BMS) -> Morgan (3.5-4 years BMS) -> Sydney (3 years BMS) -> Trinity (2.5 years BMS) -> Bianca + Troy (6-8 months BMS) -> Lydia + Sinclair (start of main story)

The First Break War happened around four years before the main story, lasting about a year and leading to the deaths of almost a hundred people. The Second Break War happened around a year and a half before the main story, lasting around six to eight months and leading to the deaths of a little over a dozen people.

#Universe 1 #The Gang's All Here #I FINALLY FINISHED THIS AAAAAAAAAAAAA-#I've been working on this for a little bit now and it was ALMOST completely formatted and ready to go last night #but then I had to go to bed for work.... once again my employment stands between me and my creative ambitions #but!!! here we are!!! now with like. double the characters.#honestly the best part of this to me is that it highlights that Gamma's weird as hell to the humans' side of the Realm #whereas on his side he's is the most normal person around by a fucking LANDSLIDE #also the header for Sinclair's section is just for fun lmao. like... every time they introduce themself in story it's the loudest shit #they monologue and everything and it makes me grin every time #so it just felt fitting #anyways!! yeah!! if you guys have any questions just let me know!!! I love talking about these funky fellas #gonna double-check this later just to make sure everything looks fine with my blog theme as well as replace the info page #but I'm gonna keep the old version up in post form for archival purposes!!#might reblog this in the future with more info on locations and stuff. but this is already enough of an info dump adhfgahjksgdfkjhas

1 note · View note

cressidagrey · 14 days ago

Text

The Brush Off

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Felicity Leong-Piastri (Original Character)

Summary: 5 Times people flirt with Felicity and 1 time Oscar sees it happen.

Notes: Big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble 😂 Also, check out my new divider!

School Library, Haileybury

Felicity was tucked into her usual corner of the school library — second floor, far left, just behind the dusty shelf of outdated atlases no one ever touched. It was quiet there. Untouchable. Sacred.

Her legs were curled under her in a frankly illegal way that made the librarian twitch every time she passed by.

But Felicity didn’t care. She had more important things to worry about. Like finishing her own chemistry coursework, writing the conclusion to her robotics team report, and, most importantly, rescuing Oscar’s history grade from what could only be described as a stylistic disaster.

Her copy of The Selfish Gene sat open next to a packet of sticky notes and five highlighters arranged in rainbow order. Oscar’s essay draft was sprawled beside it like a corpse in need of resuscitation.

She was six pages in.

She had already marked five run-on sentences, circled three historical inaccuracies, and scrawled “comma splice?” in angry red ink on the header. Next to that, she’d added, in smaller print: “This is a run-on sentence and also a war crime.”(This was three lines after “I am not sure if child labour can be considered a “perk” of the industrial revolution, Oz.”)

She was muttering to herself about how Oscar consistently forgot the difference between a primary and secondary source when a shadow fell across the table.

“Hey,” a voice said. “You always sit here?”

Felicity glanced up — just barely — and immediately clocked the newcomer.

Mateo.

The Spanish exchange student.

Hair swoop. Too much cologne.

He had the vibe of someone who thought reading The Secret History made him profound. Like the kind of guy who bought Moleskines but didn’t write in them. Like a walking Instagram profile captioned “Fluent in Nietzsche.”

She didn’t answer immediately. Just scribbled a note in Oscar’s margin (“use a stronger thesis here or face the wrath of every historian who’s ever lived”).

“On Wednesdays, yes,” she replied eventually, eyes still on the page.

Mateo didn’t take the hint.

He leaned in a little too close. She caught the movement out of the corner of her eye and already regretted not bringing headphones.

“What are you working on?”

She lifted Oscar’s paper slightly, as if it were obvious. “This.”

He squinted. “You’re helping a friend?”

“This is my boyfriend’s essay.”

Mateo’s face lit up, but not with recognition — with opportunity. “Wow. You’re that good a friend?”

Felicity blinked. “I’m that good a girlfriend.”

He paused. Smiled like she’d just told a cute joke at a party. “Sure. But, like, if you ever wanted to… hang out? Or study together? I’ve been struggling with philosophy.”

She stared at him. “You’re struggling with philosophy?”

He nodded eagerly. “It’s so dense, you know?”

“You mean… reading?”

He chuckled. “I just thought it might be easier with someone like you. Someone sharp. Smart.”

She just stared at him.

Still, he didn’t leave. “I’m just saying, if you ever get bored of helping your boyfriend… I wouldn’t mind a little attention.”

That’s what made her pause.

Because for a moment, Felicity genuinely didn’t understand what he meant.

Attention? What kind? Did he want her to edit his essay, too? Help him structure his arguments?

Was this a mentorship request? A tutoring thing? Was he trying to hire her?

Because from where she was sitting — wearing one of Oscar’s sweatshirts over her school uniform with her hair up in a pencil-stabbed bun, ink smudged on her fingers… There was no way this boy was flirting with her.

She finally looked up, expression flat. “I’ve been with my boyfriend for two years. I rewrite his footnotes. I know the number of his racing sim’s USB ports by memory. You think I have time for recreational idiocy?”

Mateo blinked. He stammered something that might’ve been “Sorry” or “Your loss” or possibly just the start of a philosophy quote he didn’t finish.

Then he turned and slunk away, disappearing into the nonfiction aisle like a man who needed to Google what a footnote was.

Felicity exhaled slowly, turned back to Oscar’s essay, and drew a tiny skull next to a sentence about Napoleon.

Ten minutes later, Oscar appeared — bottle of water in one hand, hoodie sleeves half-pushed up, curls slightly mussed.

“Hey,” he said, flopping into the seat beside her and nudging her ankle under the table.

Felicity didn’t even blink. She just slid his paper across the table.

“Yours,” she said, tone dry. “Try not to get seduced by misused commas.”

Oscar grinned, leaned over, and kissed her temple.

***

Engineering Library, Imperial College London

The engineering library at Imperial had a very specific kind of silence — dense, utilitarian, and just slightly stressed.

It didn’t have the hushed reverence of a humanities space or the open nervous energy of undergrads cramming in a group. No. This room buzzed with tension.

It smelled like soldering fumes, pencil shavings, leftover caffeine, and the faintest echo of ambition-turned-despair.

Most students had packed up hours ago, but Felicity remained in her fortress of design textbooks, open CAD diagrams, three kinds of scrap paper, and a crumpled granola bar wrapper that she’d been meaning to throw away for at least forty-five minutes. Her water bottle was dangerously low, her laptop fan sounded like it was preparing for lift-off, and her cursor had been blinking in the same spot on her thermal stress simulation for the last twenty-seven minutes.

She wasn’t stuck. She was just… tired.

Tired in the bone-deep way only a mechanical engineering student in her second trimester could be.

She shifted slightly, legs curled beneath her, one hand resting absently on the curve of her bump. Not because it hurt — not tonight — but because Beatrice had just kicked her in the ribs again, like she was trying to crawl out through Felicity’s diaphragm.

Her phone buzzed next to her laptop:

Oscar: Don’t forget dinner. Please. You always forget when your sim models hate you.

She smiled faintly but didn’t reply. Not yet. She still had heat sink values to triple-check.

That was when it happened.

A voice—too close, too casual—sliced through the stillness.

“Hey.”

Felicity looked up, blinking.

A guy was standing across the table. Probably mid-twenties. Tall, in that I stretch for photos, way. Crisp haircut. Slim jeans. Water bottle with a “No Bad Vibes” sticker on it — ironic, because he was currently radiating intrusive energy like a malfunctioning microwave.

He didn’t wait for permission. Just slid into the chair opposite hers like this was a first date she didn’t know they were having.

“I saw you in Thermo this morning,” he said. “That fluid mechanics question you asked? Insanely clever. I was going to say something after class, but you ducked out too fast.”

Felicity blinked at him. “I had a tutorial.”

“Oh, right,” he said. “Should’ve guessed. You seem like you’ve got everything scheduled down to the second.”

“I also needed chips,” she added, because both things were true.

He laughed like she’d made a joke. “You seem intense. I like that. Women in engineering? You don’t see that every day. Rare combination of intimidating and hot.”

She stared at him.

The words rolled around her brain like loose screws.

What… did he want?

Was this a compliment? An insult? An offer?

She was six months pregnant, her knees hurt, her thesis was trying to kill her, and she was wearing Oscar’s hoodie with a faint grease stain across the front.

What exactly was the goal here?

“I mean—don’t get me wrong,” he rushed on, clearly sensing the silence and trying to recover. “You’ve just got that… serious vibe. Like the kind of girl who rewires her own dishwasher.”

“I did,” she said flatly. “Last week.”

He blinked. “Seriously?”

“And the kettle. And Oscar’s sim pedal when it failed under full brake.”

There was a beat.

“…Who’s Oscar?” he asked, smirking now. “Your roommate?”

Felicity paused.

And for a moment—just a moment—she considered laughing.

Then she closed her laptop slowly. Deliberately.

“Oscar’s my husband.”

The guy blinked.

Stood up slowly. Her hoodie shifted, and with it, the full curve of her pregnancy became unmistakably obvious. Not theoretical. Not ambiguous. Imminent.

The guy’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

She adjusted the hem of her sweater, not breaking eye contact, slung her bag over one shoulder, and smiled — cold, clean, efficient.

“If you’re gonna flirt with a mechanical engineer,” she said, “maybe do a better job at observational diagnostics.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Looked like he wanted to apologise and also vanish into the carpet tiles.

Felicity didn’t wait for a response.

***

Trinity College, Oxford

By the time Felicity Piastri was twenty-one, she had two things down to a science:

How to balance a toddler on her hip while rewriting entire sections of a doctoral thesis.

The exact number of times she could ignore the same man before it became a full-blown academic experiment.

Her Oxford doctoral project - Reinforcement Through Flexibility: Dynamic Adaptation in Composite-Structured Performance Environments. - had technically been finished for weeks. The simulations were done, the modelling locked in, her conclusions tight and triple-sourced. Now she was just revising. Editing. Wrangling footnotes into submission while Bee tried to paste glitter stickers into the margins of her printed draft.

She did almost everything from home.

The only reason she even stepped foot into Oxford was for fortnightly supervision meetings with Dr. Green, who was brilliant, terrifying, and the only person Felicity would willingly leave the house (and her toddler) for.

Which was, unfortunately, where Nathan lived.

Nathan — Dr. Green’s personal assistant — had been a PPE student once upon a time, which explained a lot. Somehow, he’d wheedled his way into a departmental admin role despite not knowing the difference between a torque curve and a coffee stain. His talents included:

Misfiling room bookings.

Brewing tea that tasted like despair.

Flirting with Felicity like it was something he was being graded on.

The first time he tried it, she’d thought it was just bad small talk. She gave him the benefit of the doubt. He seemed the type to flirt accidentally, the kind of man who said “babe” to baristas and thought it made him charming.

The second time, she was slightly annoyed.

By the fifth, she had moved on to anthropological interest.

How did he not see the wedding ring? The child’s drawings poking out of her folder? The exhaustion of someone whose idea of a wild Friday night was installing firmware updates for fun?

Today, she arrived two minutes early for her meeting. She’d barely stepped into the department lobby when he spotted her.

“Dr. Green is running a bit late,” Nathan announced, standing up from behind the reception desk like he was emerging for a curtain call. “But I can keep you company if you like.”

Felicity barely paused. “She’s not. She still has 2 minutes till our appointment time.”

He grinned like she’d just flirted back. “You know, I was thinking the other day… you never hang around after your meetings. You always rush off.”

“Yeah,” she said, expression unreadable. “Because I have a toddler. And a dissertation. And a husband. In that order.”

Nathan winced theatrically. “Oof. Brutal.”

She offered him a smile that wasn’t one. “Sorry. Was that too reality-based?”

Still, he pressed on, leaning against the desk like he thought he was on the cover of GQ.

“Still,” he said, “it’d be nice to talk about something other than drivetrain mapping sometime. Maybe grab a drink?”

Felicity blinked. Twice.

It wasn’t the first time he’d suggested it. But somehow, today, it caught her even more off guard.

“You’re asking me,” she said slowly, “a married mother of one, who is actively finishing a thesis and hasn’t eaten a full sit-down meal in two days, to go get drinks with you?”

He laughed, like she was being ridiculous.

“I didn’t think you’d take it that seriously. We could just talk—”

“About what?” she asked, genuinely baffled. “What, precisely, do you think I have in common with a man who once told me Elon Musk was just misunderstood?”

Nathan blinked.

Felicity continued. “Do you want help with your CV? Is this about office gossip? Are you confused and trying to network with me through reverse psychology?”

“I just meant—”

“I’m not trying to be rude,” she said, eyes narrowing in thought. “I genuinely don’t understand what outcome you’re envisioning here. Do you think I’m going to cheat on my husband with the guy who can’t pronounce ‘aerodynamics’ without swallowing the word halfway through?”

He flushed slightly. “You don’t have to be mean.”

“I’m not. I’m being efficient.”

The door to the inner office opened before he could reply. Dr. Green appeared, breathless and balancing two takeaway coffees in one hand and a folder in the other.

“Felicity, I’m so sorry. The grant committee meeting ran over. Here—” She handed over one of the cups. “Decaf oat, right? And I pulled the new journal submissions for you. There are a few I thought might intersect with your secondary chapter on hybrid systems.”

Felicity smiled as she took the coffee. “Thanks. I already reviewed the three most relevant ones and emailed you a summary chart with citations.”

Dr. Green blinked. “Of course you did.”

Nathan blinked, too, but for entirely different reasons.

Felicity turned back to him just before following her professor inside.

“Oh, and Nathan?”

“…Yes?” he said, still — somehow — hopeful.

She raised her left hand and tapped the wedding band with one finger. “This wasn’t a joke.”

And then she shut the office door behind her like it was a verdict.

The Door Handle Aisle of Homebase, Woking

Oscar was off racing.

Felicity was elbow-deep in a bathroom renovation.

Not the Pinterest kind.

Not the “new towels and scented eucalyptus and a little bamboo ladder for the aesthetic” kind.

No, this was the “rip out the vanity with a crowbar and discover the wall behind it had been sealed with hope and duct tape” kind.

The kind of renovation that required full battle gear: dust mask, gloves, safety goggles, and the controlled fury of a woman who had read the plumbing manual twice and did not need a man explaining pipe fittings to her.

And because she was who she was — stubborn, competent, and wildly intelligent— Felicity hadn’t hired anyone.

She could do it herself.

And she would.

Which meant… many, many trips to the hardware store.

The staff had started to recognise her by mid-April. A couple of them even learned to duck when she walked in, in case she asked for a specific size of tap washer they didn’t carry. But one guy — the guy from the sealant aisle—hadn’t learned that lesson.

Late twenties, overly friendly, perpetually wearing a toolbelt he definitely didn’t need, like he thought it made him look rugged instead of unconvincing. He hovered near the caulk and grout displays like they were a dating pool.

The first time, it was casual.

“You here again?” he’d asked, smiling like he was in a rom-com. “You must really like DIY.”

Felicity didn’t look up from the tile grout chart. “I like doing things properly.”

The second time, it was more confident.

“Doing a kitchen too?” he asked, spotting the tile adhesive in her basket. “You ever need help—”

“I’ve got it, thanks,” she said, already walking toward checkout before he could finish.

By the sixth visit, he had apparently decided they were bonding.

She was in the handles aisle, comparing brass finishes, when she heard him again — that telltale sneaker-squeak on linoleum, the voice turned up a little too loud, too performative.

“Wow,” he said, appearing at the end of the aisle. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you keep coming in just to see me.”

Felicity didn’t look up. She held one cabinet pull in each hand and considered which one better matched the art deco lines of the mirror she’d thrifted.

“I assure you,” she said, tone even, “my interest in you begins and ends with your stock of brass hinges.”

He laughed, undeterred. “Come on. You’re always here. I figured, maybe you’re one of those cool builder girls. You don’t wear a ring or anything, so…”

That’s what finally made her pause.

Not the tone. Not the implication. But the logic.

She looked at him.

“You think I keep coming in here because… what? I’m lonely?” she asked, brow furrowed in genuine confusion. “I’m literally holding blueprints and a door handle.”

He shrugged. “You just seem like the kind of girl who could use a little—” (God help him) “—company.”

Felicity blinked. She wiped a smudge of pencil from her chin, set the handles back down, and reached into her tote bag without breaking eye contact.

She pulled out her phone.

“I’m going to walk you through something,” she said calmly, unlocking the screen. “Because clearly, you didn’t do any preliminary research before launching this… ill-conceived outreach attempt.”

She turned the lock screen toward him.

A photo.

Felicity, curled up on a sofa in a hoodie. Oscar was beside her, kissing the top of her head. Bee sprawled between them in footie pyjamas, holding a spoon upside down like a trophy. The lighting was soft. Domestic. Unmistakably intimate.

“This,” Felicity said, “is my husband. He is currently in Azerbaijan, driving a car at three hundred miles an hour. That’s our daughter. She is two. I do renovations during naptime.”

The man paled. “Oh. I—uh. I didn’t know—”

“No,” she agreed. “You didn’t ask.”

He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something else — possibly to dig the hole deeper.

But Felicity wasn’t done.

“I come in here to buy tile primer. I don’t come in here for unsolicited analysis of my marital status from men who think a toolbelt is a personality trait.”

Her voice never rose. It didn’t have to.

It was calm. Steady.

The voice of someone who had personally rewired her fuse box and once installed a dishwasher while on the phone and dealing with a crying toddler.

She smiled politely. Dangerously.

Like a woman who kept zip ties in her car and knew how to use them.

“I’ll take these, thanks,” she said, lifting the cabinet handles. “Don’t need help carrying them. But if you’ve got any more of that tile primer from last week in stock, that would be helpful.”

He mumbled something about checking the back and fled like a man pursued by the consequences of his own choices.

Felicity watched him go, then picked up the nicer brass finish.

She didn’t even roll her eyes. She was too tired.

Felicity just wanted her tile primer and to go home.

***

Rooftop Bar, Melbourne

Felicity didn’t go out much.

Not because she couldn’t — Oscar insisted she take breaks, even booked her massages that she always forgot to attend — but because she liked her life.

She liked being home with Bee. She liked sanding doorframes and painting walls and mapping out the next renovation with a pencil stuck in her messy bun. She liked curling up on the sofa with her laptop, trading stock options at 1 AM. She liked Oscar reading over her shoulder, pointing out line graphs he didn’t understand but wanted to. She liked the steady rhythm of their days. Naptimes and quiet dinners and Bee’s loud commentary on the existence of pigeons.

But they were in Melbourne over the Winter break, and Nicole had insisted.

“You’re getting out of the house,” she’d said, practically pushing Felicity toward the wardrobe. “You’ve been in Australia for five days, and the only places you’ve seen are the beach and Bunnings.”

And so here they were — rooftop bar in Melbourne, warm summer air, glass of chilled white wine in Nicole’s hand and a lemon-lime mocktail in Felicity’s.

Their dresses fluttered in the breeze; Her hair was up. Her arms were bare. She looked, Nicole thought proudly, like the kind of woman men write songs about.

Which was, unfortunately, the problem.

Because a man at the bar had noticed, too.

He made his way over with the swagger of someone who once played rugby in uni and still referred to it as “his prime.” White linen shirt. Too many rings. Hair with more product than structure. And that thing men did when they leaned on a table like they were presenting a TED Talk on their charm.

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” he said smoothly, eyes only on Felicity.

Nicole didn’t blink. “You are.”

Felicity raised her eyebrows, mildly surprised, but didn’t say anything. She just sipped her drink and let the lime catch on her tongue.

The man chuckled — the low, confident kind that assumed he was being flirted back with.

“I just thought I’d say—you’ve got a great smile,” he continued. Still to Felicity. Still convinced. “You local?”

“No,” she said. “Just visiting.”

He nodded toward Nicole. “With your sister?”

Nicole’s mouth twitched.

Felicity opened her mouth to clarify, but Nicole got there first.

“I’m her mother-in-law,” she said, swirling her wine.

That gave him a moment’s pause. But not enough.

“Well, she’s clearly not married—” he gestured vaguely to Felicity’s left hand, bare in the way most hands are after a morning at the beach with a toddler and too much sunscreen.

Felicity smiled. Slowly. Like a summer storm deciding whether to ruin your picnic or level your whole house.

“I took my rings off before swimming this morning,” she said, amused. “Didn’t want to lose them in the ocean.”

He still didn’t give up. “No offence, but… a girl like you? You don’t need to be tied down so young.”

Felicity furrowed her brow. “What does that mean?”

“I mean, you could have fun. Live a little.”

“I’m married,” she said again, a little slower. “I live a lot.”

“You know what I mean,” he said, grinning.

She genuinely didn’t understand.

What did he mean by that?

Was she supposed to say thank you? Defend her marriage?

Debate the merits of early commitment like she was on a panel?

“No,” Felicity replied honestly, “I actually don’t. What exactly do you think is going to happen? I abandon my family because you complimented my teeth?”

She had a three-year-old who could build better arguments about bedtime.

Before Felicity could figure out what to say, Nicole gently set her wine glass down.

“She’s not tied down, darling,” she said, tone perfectly pleasant. “She’s adored.”

She reached into her purse like she was pulling a weapon.

“Would you like to see a photo of her husband holding their daughter on the beach this morning?” she asked. “Or maybe the one where he flew eight hours just to make it to her thesis defence?”

The man’s face did a visible three-second software update.

“No, that’s okay,” he said, already backing up a step.

Nicole raised an eyebrow. “You sure? My son is very photogenic. His job likes to post him shirtless sometimes. It’s a whole thing.”

Felicity had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

“Right. Uh—have a nice night,” the man muttered, vanishing like a bug under bright light.

+1 — The One Time Oscar Noticed

The garage was buzzing with that high-voltage energy unique to a U.S. race weekend — louder music, brighter cameras, fans pressed against every fence line like they were at a concert instead of a motorsport event. McLaren’s VIP list was stacked with influencers, sponsors, and the usual parade of celebrities trying to look like they knew what a downforce map was.

Oscar didn’t care about any of them.

He cared about the girls in the denim jackets with PIASTRI stitched across the back in big, white glittery letters. Their arts and crafts project for Silverstone.

Felicity was standing near the back of the garage, Bee balanced on her hip, and a pair of toddler-sized headphones slipped over her curls. The two of them had matching jackets, homemade and loud and perfect. Bee’s even had a sparkly iron-on chicken. Felicity’s had glitter stars. Oscar had never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

He was mid-chat with one of the engineers when he glanced over again.

And froze.

Because some guy—tall, tanned, fake-smiling, and clearly trying to look famous—was leaning way too close to Felicity. His teeth were too white. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest. He held a drink, and worse, he had sunglasses on inside. Oscar didn’t even know where he’d come from — but there he was, leaning against the garage railing like it was a club bar and Felicity was the drink special.

He was saying something. Laughing too loud.

Felicity frowned politely. She shifted a sleeping Bee on her hip and took a half-step back.

The man followed.

“I’m just saying,” he drawled, gesturing to her jacket, “if you’re gonna wear another man’s name on your back, he better be worth it.”

Felicity blinked. “He’s my husband.”

That didn’t deter him.

“Bet he doesn’t even know how good he’s got it,” the man said, still smiling, his gaze dropping briefly to her legs. “You ever get tired of being someone’s plus-one, let me know.”

Bee stirred a little, nose twitching, and Felicity rubbed her back automatically, like muscle memory. Her brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”

The guy tilted his head. “C’mon. You’re clearly the type who plays the sweet wife in public. But a woman like you?” He dropped his voice. “You need real attention.”

Oscar took a step forward, but someone else moved faster.

“Alright,” said a voice, sharp and Australian and impossible to ignore. “Let’s try that again — from six feet away.”

The man turned, surprised, and saw Mark Webber.

Mark didn’t need to raise his voice. His presence alone was enough to freeze a room.

He gave the man a smile that could cut glass. “You’ve got five seconds to back up before I make this very awkward for everyone.”

“Sorry, mate—”

“No, see, that’s the problem,” Mark said, stepping forward slightly. “You’re not her mate. You’re a stranger talking to a woman who’s clearly married, clearly holding a child, and clearly not interested. So unless you’re trying to get blacklisted from every paddock hospitality list from now until eternity, I’d walk away.”

The guy opened his mouth. Closed it. Then turned and slinked off like a coward in designer shoes.

Oscar finally got to them, face tight, fury in every step.

Mark nodded. “Handled.”

Oscar exhaled slowly. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Mark looked at Felicity. “You alright?”

Felicity still looked baffled. “What was that?”

Oscar looked her over, checking Bee, checking her, like reassurance was the only way to keep his hands from shaking. “That guy was harassing you.”

“What? No. Was he?” She squinted after him. “He was just being weird.”

Oscar stared at her. “He was flirting. Badly.”

“He was being rude,” Felicity said. “And creepy. But flirting? Why would anyone flirt with someone holding a sleeping toddler and wearing a juice-stained T-shirt? Why does this keep happening?!”

Mark rubbed a hand over his face. “You’re wearing a custom denim jacket with your husband’s name on it in glitter. Holding your kid. And you still have men sniffing around. That’s not on you — that’s on them being idiots.”

Oscar exhaled hard.

Felicity, still gently rocking Bee, just sighed. “Maybe I should just get a flashing neon sign.”

Oscar stepped closer and kissed her temple. “You okay?”

She looked at him, tired but unbothered. “Yeah. Are you?”

“No,” he muttered. “But I will be once I get you both inside.”

***

They were tucked away in the quiet corner of the drivers' room now, post-session, Bee still fast asleep on the little sofa wrapped in one of Oscar’s hoodies. The chaos of the paddock had faded into muffled noise.

Oscar was sitting across from Felicity, one leg bouncing.

He was still rattled.

“What do you mean they keep flirting with you?” he asked, brows drawn together as he looked at her.

Felicity blinked up at him. “What?”

“You said it like it happens regularly,” he said, voice low and sharp with something he was trying to keep cool. “Like that wasn’t the first time.”

She paused. Shrugged. “I mean… it does? A little?”

Oscar stared at her. “Since when?”

“I don’t know. Since Haileybury, probably? Or Oxford. And, like… in the hardware store.”

Oscar made a noise that might have been a groan or a growl.

“And you didn’t tell me?” he asked.

“I didn’t think it mattered,” she said simply, brushing a hand over Bee’s curls. “They’re not you. So they don’t have a chance.”

He stilled.

That one sentence — calm, sure, like it was the most obvious fact in the world — hit him in the chest like a perfect downshift.

She tilted her head, studying him. “You really didn’t know?”

“I knew people looked,” he admitted.

Of course, they looked. He was aware of how Felicity looked: Sunglasses pushed to the top of her head. Hair windswept from the open pit lane. She had juice on her shirt, no makeup, and still — still — she looked like something out of a dream. Breakable and brilliant. All porcelain and fire.

Beautiful.

“I’m not blind. But I didn’t realise they were… like that.”

“I don’t even get why they are doing it,” Felicity snorted. “I look like someone who hasn’t slept properly since Bee was born. I have crusted juice on my shirt. I literally threw Goldfish crackers at our daughter to buy myself ten minutes.”

Oscar leaned back, exasperated. “And you still look better than anyone else here.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re just biased.”

“I’m jealous,” he corrected, then ran a hand through his hair. “God, I hate it. That guy didn’t even flinch when you said you were married.”

“He probably thought I was joking,” she said mildly. “People don’t really expect twenty-somethings to be married with kids.”

Oscar’s jaw tightened. “They should. You wear my name on your back.”

She shrugged. “They don’t matter. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.”

Oscar was across the space in a second.

He kissed her — slow, deep, a little desperate — hand sliding around her waist, pulling her in close. His other hand cupped her jaw, thumb brushing her cheek like he had to remind himself she was real.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers, breath shallow.

“You’re mine,” he said, voice low. “I know I don’t own you, but God, I feel it sometimes. Like you’ve always been mine.”

“I have. Since we were 15,” she whispered. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. Even before you had a Wikipedia page.”

Oscar kissed her. Not rushed, not messy — but firm. Grounded. A kiss that said mine. A kiss that would’ve been indecent if she weren’t already wearing his name and carrying his child and his whole damn heart.

When he finally pulled back, she was breathless.

And across the room, Bee stirred, let out a sleepy sigh, and snuggled deeper into Oscar’s hoodie.

Felicity leaned in, kissed the corner of his mouth, and muttered, “You’re ridiculous when you’re jealous.”

He grinned. “You love it.”

“Unfortunately,” she sighed. “Yes.”

#formula 1 #f1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfiction #f1 smau #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 grid x reader #f1 grid fanfiction #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri #Oscar Piastri fic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #op81 fic #op81 imagine

987 notes · View notes