Congratulations! Contrary to what this looks like, you have not just passed away! Instead, you have just been put into a time loop which will break once you make it to midnight without dying!
But be warned, your survival may mean some of your loved ones won’t make it, so be sure to check with them before time runs out and the timeline in which they die is set in stone! Luckily, you can reset anytime anyway. You know how, don’t you?
Your body may not always be reset to perfect health when you reset. Do not be alarmed if your body starts being worn down from resetting so often. Should you reset with a gaping hole in your head or other alarming conditions, another reset should fix the issue. We apologize for the inconvenience.
summary: a story about y/n, Redbull’s new second driver, told in non-sequential order
a/n: I love febuwhump and have participated before for other fandoms but this is a first for me — attempting to compete it via smau only. Hopefully I can write a complete story eventually and I will be posting it on its own masterlist in the correct order to read but it’ll be written based on the febuwhump prompt list! @febuwhump
a/n2: based on the 2024 year; sorry checo but you got replaced earlier!
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f1gossip
liked by user, user, user, and 837,157 others
tagged: y/n_rb
f1gossip: For those wondering about y/n’s crash today — here is a video from her onboard during and a photo from anonymous sources showing her car in the aftermath. Allegedly, they had to bring blowtorches in to remove her from the vehicle.
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user1: Jesus that’s bad
↳user2: you could say that again…
user3: and she’s ok? When her car looks like that????
↳user4: well… You know she was taken to the hospital…BUT she was conscious and talking?
↳user3: a good sign then!
user5: really? A blow torch?!?
↳user6: that does seem excessive…
↳f1gossip: a hazard of reporting things as they happen — we (sometimes) get the first report wrong
↳user7: that makes me feel better actually…
user8: do we have her radios from the crash yet?
↳user9: seriously??
↳user8: I mean so we can hear if she’s ok? Like how she was talking??
↳user9: 🤨🤨 thin ice dude…
user10: oh it looks like her radios are available now!
↳user11: fuck…
y/n_rb
liked by user, user, user and 923,813 others
y/n_rb: weewoo weewoo weewoo
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user12: oh my god who let her have her phone!
user13: oh this is about to be very entertaining…
user14: signs of life!
↳y/n_rb: no! Sounds of ambulance!
↳user15: oh they got you on the good stuff already huh?
user16: they let you keep your phone?
↳yourmanager: it was about the only way they could calm her down enough to stay put
Based on the following snippet from Life Signs (s3e6)
V: What can I say? All of Dad's drills must have paid off. Remember how he used to get us up at 5:00am - just to run contingency scenarios?
~
It had started as a way for Scott to burn energy without waking his Mom and then his brothers up.
Scott’s inability to sleep beyond around 4 am had at first despaired his parents but once they’d been reassured by the Paediatric doctor that while unusual his sleep – or lack of it – was nothing to worry about they had both adapted.
By the time John had been born their three-year-old had a routine that helped keep him out of trouble and out of Lucy’s hair…
Quite by accident Scott had discovered Jeff performing drills. He’d sat there, wide-eyed, and watched until Jeff had noticed him and shown him how to march in time and turn correctly.
Of course, it took more than one morning to teach him the precise movements needed. In fact it took weeks, but eventually by the time John had been born and Virgil was well on the way Scott knew the steps, knew how to count them and to turn smartly. He even knew how to salute.
It became a routine Jeff cherished. An hour around dawn if Jeff was planet-side the two would spend that time marching around the back yard if the weather was good or inside in the dining room if not, Jeff and his mini-me would drill and drill and drill.
Once Virgil was old enough to join in he delighted in the drilling too but John was totally uninterested. Getting Virgil up at 5 am was a difficult task even at 3 years of age, but most mornings he would be up and ready.
Except for Tuesdays. For some reason he simply couldn’t get up on Tuesday…
But now Jeff had retired from NASA and didn’t need the keep-fit or disciplinary aspect of the drills he turned them into something much more in keeping with where they lived.
They had lived through one of the worst tornadoes in Kansas history and had survived by the skin of their teeth, and Jeff was determined to get his boys prepared should the worst happen again.
So military drills switched to contingency drills.
Scott still kept up his marching, though. Now seven, he already knew that he wanted to be a soldier, like his Daddy, and was determined that he would be the best at marching.
Jeff looked on with a growing pride. His boys would be ready for anything!
He would often walk past while Scott was drilling and ruffle his boy’s hair, on occasion saying to him ‘Daddy’s Little Soldier’. Scott positively glowed under such praise, but as the business took off these occasions happened less and less.
At some point Virgil stopped getting up and Scott found himself alone in the yard practising. And his Dad was never around.
Sometimes it felt like he had lost something he couldn’t put into words. But as he got older and Dad’s business got bigger Scott felt like he’d lost a part of himself. School was getting more intense and soon there would be exams for moving forwards.
So Scott decided he needed to work harder to gain his Dad’s attention. He was due back at the weekend for at least a couple of weeks for the summer vacation. So Scott spent the evening researching what other things his Dad would have done alongside drilling.
Hmm…he could do that…
Scott wasn’t awake when his Dad got home, but he knew that he’d arrived because the car was out the front and that was when the Scott decided to test his new plan. Loading up his backpack with food and water and anything heavy enough to be the equivalent of 100 lb. He had to unpack and repack it several times before it was light enough for Scott to actually pick it up.
He set out to march.
Twelve miles would take him to town, to the bakery that Dad sometimes bought fresh bread from and back again, and so Scott set off. It was still early morning but already the heat was intense, and before long he wished he’d thought to bring a hat with him.
He’d been marching for what felt like hours before he decided it was time to stop and have a drink. Shrugging the pack off took a while and unloading even longer…and that was when he discovered that in repacking his bag he’d forgotten to put the water back in…
With a sigh Scott repacked his bag and dithered for a moment. Should he turn back? Go on? Another sigh and he carried on towards town.
He’d barely gone a few more feet when the sound of a car had him turning and hoping…
~
Jeff woke early and was immediately uneasy. Something was wrong.
Careful not to disturb Lucy, he tiptoed out of their room and down the stairs to make himself a coffee while he worked out what was wrong.
And immediately on seeing the kitchen his worry ramped up into fear.
Scott’s schoolbooks were scattered over the floor, as was a couple of bottles of water and some cookies. But of Scott or his backpack there was no sign.
Caution forgotten, Jeff ran around the house looking for his eldest son, and it quickly became evident that not only was Scott not in the house, he wasn’t even in the garden…
‘Jeff? What is it?’
‘Luce – I can’t find Scott.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He’s gone. As is his backpack.’
Lucy paled.
‘Has he ran away?’
‘I – I don’t know. Talk to John – he might know. In the meantime I’m gonna drive into town and try and find him.’
‘Bring our baby back, Jeff. Please.’
He answered by kissing her soundly but briefly.
The drive into town wasn’t too long and Jeff was two-thirds there when he saw something lying in the dirt beside the roadway.
Shen Yuan transmigrated and his spirit somehow got bound to Xiu Ya. He is just along for the ride. No one seems to be able to notice him. Worst Day Of His (Second) Life!
Warnings: torture, (temporary) major character death, self-injury
---
Character A wakes up tied to a chair. Across the room from them, their friend/teammate/lover/family member/etc Character B is also restrained.
Whumper enters. They explain that Character A has some information that Whumper wants, and they're going to do whatever it takes to get that information, including torturing Character B. A knows that giving up the information would mean that many innocent people get hurt. “Don't tell them anything,” B insists, only to be cut off by a punch to the gut.
And so A is forced to watch as B is tortured. Through the screams and tears, A holds out hope that this will end, that rescue is coming, that they'll figure out how to escape, anything.
It must have been hours without stopping when B falls unconscious and nothing Whumper does can wake them back up. “Oops, I went too far. Guess I have to find someone new to hurt you with. You must not have cared about this one that much if you let me kill them.”
A screams and curses, wild with grief and rage, and thrashes against their bonds. The chair tips over and their head hits the floor. A burst of pain, then darkness.
A wakes up still tied to the chair, upright. Across the room, B is restrained. And B is awake. Alive.
Is this some kind of trick? Was B never actually dead? But their body shows no sign of all the wounds that were inflicted on them.
Whumper enters. A shouts at them, demanding to know what’s going on. Whumper explains that A has some information that Whumper wants, and they're going to do whatever it takes to get that information, including torturing B.
The same scene plays out again, with some slight changes due to A’s reactions. This time, when Whumper is close to the point where B fell unconscious for good last time, A begs for them to stop. “Please, you're going to kill them! Stop, please, they're going to die, please!”
“Are you going to give me the information?” Whumper asks.
“Fuck you,” A spits at them.
Whumper punches A in the face, hard enough that their head whips to the side and, for a moment, everything goes black.
A wakes up tied to the chair. Across the room, B is also restrained, all injuries gone. This is a time loop, A recognizes. And they have no idea how to get out.
As soon as Whumper enters, A starts begging. They can't give up the information, too many innocent people would be hurt, but they don't want to watch B get tortured again.
“I’m glad you're not even trying to play stoic; that makes my job so much easier. But unless you tell me what I need to know, I have no choice but to hurt your friend here.”
“Please, don't…”
“It's okay,” B tells A, their face earnest and unbruised. “I can take it. I’ll be fine, just no matter what, don't tell them anything.”
B can't take it. Once again, Whumper goes too far and ignores A’s sobbing and pleading. B’s body lies broken on the floor and A screams and screams until they pass out.
They wake up tied to a chair. B is restrained and uninjured and alive. Whumper enters and explains that A has some information that Whumper wants.
“Fine. I’ll tell you if you let us go.” If the loop is going to reset, nothing matters. And if this is what ends it, they'll deal with the consequences later.
“Don't,” B protests, but Whumper gags them.
A tells Whumper the information and can feel B’s glare burning into them with betrayal.
“Thank you,” Whumper says when A is finished. “Now, I suppose we don't need this anymore.” They raise a gun and shoot B.
“No!” A screams. “No, you promised, you said—”
“Oh, shut up.” Whumper shoots A too. The world goes dark.
A wakes up tied to the chair. They're uninjured, B is uninjured, and Whumper walks through the door to give the same speech again.
A tries being stoic. They try being defiant. They try explaining that they're stuck in a time loop, but there's no time to get through to B and Whumper doesn't believe them. Over and over, A watches B get tortured and die.
They didn’t bother to keep track of how many loops it's been, but they wish they had, if only to know whether they’re at twenty-five or fifty. They're so tired of being forced to watch that they make it their new goal to goad Whumper into hurting A instead.
This time, when Whumper gives their spiel about hurting B to get information from A, A interrupts by scoffing. “I don’t care about them,” A lies.
“Really? Then you won't mind if I do this.” Whumper uses a taser to shock B, holding it for several seconds until B screams. A jolts in response, unconsciously mirroring the shuddering of B’s body.
Eventually, B dies and A wakes up in the chair again.
“You really think I’m such a selfless person that seeing someone else get tortured will hurt me worse than being tortured myself?” A tries.
“The only reason you’d be arguing for me to torture you is because you care about them.”
B dies and A wakes up again.
“They mean nothing to me.” A ignores the barely-hidden hurt in B’s eyes. “Honestly, I’d be glad to see them taken down a peg.” They push all the callousness they can project into the words.
“Oh? How about if you choose what we start with, then.” Whumper holds up a wide array of torture instruments.
A is glad when that loop is over. The wounds are erased, but the guilt follows them.
Eventually, A learns that if they don't react to Whumper’s threat, and if they can stop B from saying something stupidly self-sacrificing like “don't tell them anything no matter how much they hurt me,” Whumper will start with torturing A instead. A can take it. After all, none of these wounds are permanent.
That doesn't mean the pain isn't real. And whenever A blacks out, even for a moment, the time loop resets.
A wakes up tied to a chair. “Don't say anything,” they hiss at B the moment their eyes open. “No time to explain, just stay quiet.”
Whumper enters. A endures the torture and tries their best to hold onto consciousness through the pain. When they eventually fail, they wake up tied to a chair.
Is this going to go on forever? Time loops always have some end condition, something that needs to be fulfilled to move on, but A is in control of so little, tied up in this room.
They need to escape. And that means Whumper’s attention has to be on B.
The rope tying A to the chair is securely knotted. A spends an entire loop working at it as they try to close their ears to B’s screams. Hours later, when B dies, A can't tell whether the rope is really any looser, but their wrists are scratched raw.
Usually, A ends the loop themself once B is dead, either by screaming themself into unconsciousness or knocking over the chair to hit their head on the floor or provoking Whumper into killing them. This time, they wait to see what will happen.
“Guess I have to find someone new to hurt you with,” Whumper says. “You must not have cared about this one that much if you let me kill them.” Whumper idly kicks B’s body. “What a waste.”
A grimaces but holds back any retort.
“Oh well. I’ll be back later.” Whumper leaves the room, and the lock clicks shut behind them.
A isn’t sure how long they work at untying the ropes. Eventually, they pass out, and when they wake up, B is alive and the ropes are as tight as before.
It takes five more loops— A is counting now— to give up on the idea of untying their bonds. Three more to figure out how to dislocate their thumb to slip their hands out. When they stand up for the first time, their body feels as weak as if it's really been months, even though their physical condition resets each loop.
Whumper never bothers to clean up their torture tools, so it only takes A two loops to find something that will work as a lockpick. They learn that dislocating the thumb of their non-dominant hand means untying the other hand is more difficult, but picking the lock is a lot easier.
It takes nine loops to figure out how to get out of the building. Sometimes A is killed by a guard. Sometimes Whumper finds them. Sometimes they're just too exhausted and in pain and let themself succumb to the darkness and start over.
And they still need to find a way to escape with B alive.
—
Character B wakes up restrained and sees Character A tied to a chair across from them.
“Don't say anything,” A says as soon as their eyes open. “No time to explain, just don't draw their attention. I’ll be fine.”
Whumper enters. They explain that A has some information that Whumper wants, and they're going to do whatever it takes to get that information, including torturing B. B knows that giving up the information would mean that many innocent people get hurt. They would tell A not to, no matter what happens to B, but they remember A’s warning to stay quiet. It seems like A already knows.
Whumper starts with torturing A. B holds back quiet sobs as they watch their loved one beaten and burned and bloodied. Eventually, A falls unconscious. Whumper slaps A across the face a few times but they don't react.
“That’s disappointing.” Whumper shrugs, turning away from A and towards B. “Well, when they wake up, we can see how they react to me hurting you.”
B grits their teeth against the wave of fear that rises in them, but their reaction must show anyway because Whumper laughs as they exit.
The moment the door clicks shut, A opens their eyes. “I wish they wouldn't always slap me to see if I'm really out, but it could be worse. Just hang on a minute—” A muffled grunt of pain, and a moment later, A’s hands are free of the ropes. B watches in confusion as A unties the rest of their bindings, then crosses the room to untie B’s.
“What's going on?” B asks. A’s thumb is dislocated and they're still covered in wounds from the torture, but they seem sure of what they're doing. There's none of the desperation and confusion that B feels.
“I’ll explain later, if we get out this time.” This time? “Hand me the thin wire from that table.”
A limps over to the door and picks the lock with the offered wire. “Walking will be easier if I lean on you,” they tell B. “Can you go on my left— wait, grab a knife. Those small ones are decent for throwing.” Baffled by how A knows this, B complies.
It's slow going through the building, navigating the maze of hallways and once ducking into an unlocked room to avoid a guard. A somehow knows the exact route to take, but their strength is flagging. “You’d think my pain tolerance would’ve increased with all this, but nope, I guess that resets each loop too,” they say at one point.
The door to the outside has a keypad next to it where A enters the code they inexplicably know. Finally, the last obstacle is a fence. “I’m boosting you over first,” B says, still unsure of most things but knowing that A can't climb the fence alone in their current condition.
“Fine. Hurry, though.”
A is at the top, about to swing themself over, when they yell, “Behind you! Throw the knife!”
B whirls to see a guard running out of the building towards them. They don't think; trusting A, they throw the knife.
It hits the guard’s torso, slowing him down long enough that B can scramble over the fence. Then A and B run, and eventually find someone who can help, and eventually make it home.
—
“You can rest now,” B says from the chair next to A’s hospital bed.
A is exhausted from their escape and, despite the painkillers, still suffering from the torture they endured. But they can’t close their eyes, because what if the loop resets? What if they wake up tied to that chair again? What if there is no escape, not really? “I’m scared,” they admit.
“I know. But you got us out; it's over now.” (It has to be. Right?) “I’m right here.” B takes their hand. “I’ll still be right here when you wake up.”
With the warm pressure of B’s hand in theirs, A finally lets themself fall asleep.
When A wakes up in the hospital bed, still holding B’s hand, they smile. Finally, they made it out.
