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!
Masterlist | Taglist
f1gossip
liked by user, user, user, and 2,726,193 others
tagged: y/n_rb
f1gossip: transcripts of y/n’s radio moments before her crash. despite y/n being conscious in the aftermath, there seems to be evidence of head trauma in her responses.
view all comments
user1: who hurt my girl…(other then herself)
↳user2: right?? Like girl you just crashed, why are you so worried about whether or not you finished…
user3: petition to wrap her the fuck up in bubble wrap and give her some damn comfort
↳user4: double signed!
↳user5: I’ll triple it if we give her some damn blankets and like tea or hot chocolate
↳user3: oh absolutely
user6: redbull I am in your fucking walls. Treat our girl right!
↳user7: right????? Like fucking he’ll she should NOT be that worried about the race — she should be worried about herself
user8: oh this really clarifies her recent posts…
↳user9: she’s a fucking riot
↳user10: for real! We need to see her drunk cause I bet that shit is funny af
user11: I don’t know who is y/n or what f1 means but I googled her after seeing some of her posts (funny and relatable) but I hope she’s doing all right?
↳user12: everything looks like it will be ok user11. y/n is a race car driver in the formula 1 series and she’s gotten into a few bad crashes before
As a fandom we have always kinda assumed that Mira’s parents were Mira’s biggest problem and her older brother was like also a victim/golden child/part of the problem.
But what if Mira’s older brother, is the biggest problem and her parents just turned the other cheek about it all.
Like any time Mira didn’t listen to whatever it was her Oppa said or told her to do (which could be as innocent as always playing the sorts of games he wanted or nefarious as asking the staff/guests rude questions she didn’t really understand for his amusement) then he hit her/pulled her hair, locked her in closets, locked her out of the house, etc and all Mira’s parents had to say was, “He’s your Oppa, you should’ve listened to him,” and when she did “You know better than to say something like to our guest!” or “Mira would you COVER those bruises, people are going to think we abuse you,” etc.
And of course these sort of tatics works while she’s younger but eventually she learns how to pick any type of lock, to discern whatever manipulation or scheme she’s walking into and mitigate the fall out.
Her Oppa still liked to beat on people smaller than him and wouldn’t stop beating Mira for the smallest perceived slight but one day Mira’s sooo sick of being hit and just taking it and hits back and doesn’t stop until someone (her mother) pulls her off her brother’s broken and bloodied body. It’s also the same day that her father slaps her for the first and last time (partly because he hit her so hard that she fell into the sharp edge of a nearby table which left her with a minor concussion and a forever scar, however faint, on her right eyebrow).
Suffice all that to say, both of the chaebol’s show pony children looked like guest fighters for WWE and couldn’t attend any functions for 6 months. Surgeons tried their best but Mira’s Oppa’s nose never healed straight. It was also this same event that caused Mira’s parents to actually parent and prohibit physical violence on both siblings part.
After getting his ass beat, not liking that feeling as much as dealing damage, and the recriminations from his parents (those CT/MRI scans showed past abuses that cost his parents a pretty enough penny to bribe a team of doctors to look the other way, that they wouldn’t let slide) he doesn’t raise a hand to Mira again. But he does start attacking her appearance and interests with a vigor he never bothered with before.
Mira’s incredibly femme, likes pink, teddy bears, ostentatious dresses, fashion in general but all of those things are easy to ruin. He smears an unknown black substance all over her pink walls, tears the heads off of her teddy bears, rips up her favorite dress, shreds her clothing designs, etc. Her parents chalk all these incidents as either coincidences or accidents and think Mira’s reaction to having her things destroyed or otherwise ruined as immature because it’s not like they can’t afford to replace those things. But think she’s vindictive/spiteful if she returns even a tenth of the shit her Oppa’s done.
So enter more alternative era which her parents hate but fuck ‘em. She paints her walls black and just pastes those LED strips on the juncture between the ceiling and the wall to bathe in a pink light. She also dyed her hair pink too and never went back to brown no matter how many threats were leveled her way via her parents. She hid needles in only some of her teddy bears. Repaired her favorite dress and secreted it away into her mother’s closet. And saved her clothing designs on no less than three separate hard drives, uploaded them to an online drive, photocopied the originals, and stored the originals somewhere her brother very rarely visited; their home library.
She also ofc started wearing those spiky chokers, band tees, black skinny jeans, and boots exclusively. Her new look also allowed her to get out of those dreaded galas and schmoozing events she always hated so three birds, one stone.
Then she meets Celine and Rumi at the audition she snook away to go to…
Cold. They were quite familiar with the cold, actually. Before all this, they would often find themselves sleeping outside. Maybe by the library with the stray cat that made its home near there. Maybe in the small woods nearby. Maybe just outside their house. It didn't matter. But it was often cold.
Some of their fondest memories, actually, involved them nearly freezing. They would be curled up in a comfortable spot in the winter or autumn. Shivers would wrack their spine and prevent them from sleeping. And then that stray cat would walk over to them, and it would curl up by them and make itself comfortable right next to them. The warmth in their heart on those days outshone the warmth of the cat itself,even as it purred and kept them both comfortable.
There was no cat here. They were very far from that library. They were very far from their hometown. As far as they could tell, they had been walking generally northward for a few months now. They started in late summer, making it mid-autumn now, and north meant colder weather.
Even so, this felt like a lot of snow for autumn. Maybe a cold front had come in and they were unlucky enough to experience it. Right while they were lost in the woods, too.
Look, they had been trying to stick to the highways and roads. And it had worked for the past couple months! They just... got sidetracked. And boy did that go well.
Trees loomed above them, taller than they used to see in their hometown. The deep green of pine needles was now blue in the night air, and the grey-brown of tree bark was now black(They had accidentally walked into a tree a couple times by now). The snow kept piling up with no sign of stopping.
They shuddered as they continued to walk. Their hoodie, usually comfortably warm, was now nowhere near enough protection against the elements. Wind and snow blew right through the fabric, stabbing their organs with a billion needles of ice.
They kept shivering badly as they walked, which slowed them down tremendously. And having to walk through snow itself? That was the real torture. Their battered running shoes were soaked through from the melted crystals, and they couldn't feel their feet at all anymore. Hell, even their ankles were starting to numb.
They stumbled a little, muscles weak from shivering and the cold setting in. Their brain was a little foggy now too, which wasn't a great sign.
...They weren't going to die or anything, right?
The thought had almost failed to occur to them. But now, walking through snow piled up past their shoes, out in a forest in god-knows-where, physically feeling their organs start to shut down... they were scared. Really, truly scared for their life.
They picked up the pace. They couldn't die out here. They'd lived through so much. They had so much more to live through. It wasn't about to end in the middle of the fucking woods because of some snow.
They ran. Barely dodging trees, barely able to move their feet, lungs stung horribly by the cold air, they ran. They were getting out of this goddamned forest if it was the last thing they did.
"Fuck you! Fuck! You! You can't kill me, you fucking bitch!" They shouted desperately to nobody through chattering teeth and breathless gasping. As if defiance and yelling would save their life and stave off the cold.
They saw trees begin to recede away from a space in front of them. They almost began to hope, but then they noticed something was wrong. There was no city ahead. No road. The trees just... avoided a certain patch of ground.
Too late, they realized what was happening as the texture of the ground changed from solid to slippery. Fuck. A lake. Dammit. The snow got lower as it failed to stick to the ice and they were losing what precious little traction they could get to keep running.
They quickly tried to turn around to get off the lake when they felt their foot fail to plant itself on the ice. "No, no, wait-"
Gravity took their body in its violent hands and slammed them against the ice with more force than they could withstand. The last thing they remembered was desperately trying to stay awake and get up from the ice, and failing.
Thank you for reading! Remember to drink water and bundle up this winter :3
Warnings: head injury, concussion, unconsciousness, confusion, disorientation, field medicine
The sounds Team Leader didn't make any sense. Nothing made a lot of sense. Their eyelids were too heavy to lift. Their head hurt like nothing before and they felt like they couldn't move.
A cacophony of sounds filtered into their awareness. People were yelling. There was the sound of fighting around them. And there was a voice gently speaking to them. They knew that voice.
"Smallest Teammate," Team Leader croaked as they finally opened their eyes.
"There you are, Team Leader," Smallest Teammate said with a smile that didn't quite reach their eyes.
"Wha?" Team Leader asked, trying to sit up. The world spun around them and tilted on its side. Team Leader screwed their eyes shut tight as a wave of nausea filled them.
"I think you should just lie here a while, Team Leader. It's good you're awake. I...I was worried you weren't going to wake up."
Smallest Teammate's words didn't make sense. Why wouldn't they wake up? How long were they out for? None of the words Team Leader tried to form came out. Everything was fuzzy and didn't make sense.
"Team Leader," Smallest Teammate said more urgently, "I need you to stay awake. It's a good sign you're awake. Keep awake, Team Leader. Help is on the way. I've wrapped your head wound where Whumper bashed it, but I don't know how bad your concussion is. You need to stay awake, Team Leader. Can you do that for me?"
Whumper bashed their head? When did that happen. As hard as Team Leader tried to remember, they couldn't. They nodded. They could stay awake for Smallest Teammate. Anything to make Smallest Teammate worry less.
C-can I make a request…? (Please feel free to ignore if you’d rather not!)
HDW parent-child comfort? Maybe Volga gets a chance to comfort Link, or Impa can comfort him? Idk girl I’m just starving for comfort and warm fuzzy vibes and cuddles lol
Yes you may! (though I will say requests are closed so nobody send me more thanks <3)
It took me a while to contrive a situation where Impa would feel comfortable snuggling but I think I made it work! You’ll have to forgive me for the angst there ended up being, but there is comfort and cuddles I promise 😂
——————————————————————————————————
It’s not a dangerous wound.
Head wounds always bleed a lot, and almost always look worse than they are, so there’s no need for her to panic.
Yet despite how many times Impa tells herself these words, she can’t seem to banish the dread in her gut at the memory of seeing Link get slammed to the ground by an aeralfos’s shield, and not get up even after it had been killed by another soldier.
She shouts his name as he goes down, but the battle is a mess, and Impa is stuck in a fight of her own and can’t immediately get to Link. She manages a glimpse of him through the hordes, blood all over his face, and her heart stops as she fights even more viciously.
By the time she finally forces her way past the monsters in her path, Link is already being carried out of battle by a handful of medics. Impa wants to stop right there and follow them and demand to know if he’s okay, but they’re at a crucial point in the battle, and leaving now would be disastrous.
They wouldn’t be carrying him off if he wasn’t alive, he’s alive, calm down, she berates herself, but for some reason her hands won’t stop shaking.
The moment Cia’s monsters retreat and the men raise up a cheer, Impa makes a beeline for the medical tent, ignoring the questions lobbed at her by various army personnel. Link has certainly been injured before, but there’d been so much blood on him...
The medics are expecting someone to come looking for Link apparently, and the moment she steps inside the medical tent, she’s whisked off to a more private corner, curtains blocking the area from both the sounds and sights of anyone walking by.
And immediately sees Link lying silently on a bed, nearly as pale as the bandage around his head.
Impa exhales as she goes to his side, and watches his chest go up and down for a moment. The blood has been cleaned from his face at least, but he’s unnaturally still, and pale.
But he’s breathing.
“How is he?” Impa asks, and the medic beside Link hums.
“He has a concussion along with the laceration the shield left, but we’ve stopped the bleeding. He woke up enough to handle a potion about fifteen minutes ago,” she reports. “He’ll likely be disoriented for a while while the potion works through him. He may need another at a later point, but overall, he should be fine with some rest,” the medic smiles. Impa nods, still trying to ease the fear constricting her.
See, he’s fine, they said he’ll be fine, he just needs rest. He’s fine.
Link’s chest goes slowly up and down again, and Impa swallows.
“I’ve got some other patients to check up on, I’ll leave you to visit,” the medic says, seeming to sense her presence isn’t wanted, and she slips out from the curtain, leaving Impa alone with her son.
It’s rather quiet with her gone.
Impa exhales again, and looks at Link, pale and quiet, seeming unusually small under the thin blanket that he’s tucked under. There’s still blood matted in his hair, and Impa hesitates, then reaches forward, gently teasing some of it out.
It falls almost dust-like onto his pillow, and she brushes it off, intent on not thinking about how close Link came to dying and how she couldn’t do a thing to help him.
She can still see hear his cry as he’d fallen to the ground.
“Mmngh...”
“Link?” Impa asks immediately, leaning over him as his face twitches.
It takes him a minute, but he blearily opens his eyes, pupils unevenly sized as he blinks up at her. The sight of his blues, even dazed as they are, eases the fear in her chest somewhat, and she swallows as he stares.
“‘mpa?” he slurs, and she nods, unable to stop her exhale. He’s fine, see, he’s awake, relax. “Wh’...?”
“You were injured, Link. You got hit rather hard in the head with a large metal shield,” Impa explains slowly. Link scrunches up his face like he’s trying to remember such an event happening. “You’re currently in the medics tent.”
Link slowly blinks at her, not a whit of comprehension in his gaze.
“...shield?”
“Yes, a shield hit you. Hard.”
The memory of blood flashes in Impa’s vision again, and she very pointedly ignores it as Link’s eyes scrunch in confusion.
“Where’s... m’ shield?” he mumbles.
“It’s with your other gear, Link. It’s safe.”
"Oh..." he trails off, and slowly blinks. "...Wh' happen?"
Impa sighs. The medic had said he’d be disoriented. "You were injured, Link. You're resting in the medical tent."
He hums in reply, and slowly rolls his head to the side so he can look at her more easily, eyes trailing hazily across her face. The unsure, almost guarded look that’s been on his face whenever he’s looked at her lately is completely absent, nothing but open trust and bleary confusion.
It’s... almost more painful, in a way.
Impa swallows, and sits on the stool that’s been left beside his bed, Link’s eyes flickering at the noise. He stares at her again, and blinks, a little frown pulling at his cheeks.
“Don’t cry,” he murmurs.
“...Link, I’m not crying,” Impa replies slowly, and Link stretches a hand in the vague direction of her face, obviously rather uncoordinated.
“Eyes’r red,” he says worriedly, and somehow manages to land a hand on her cheek. “Looks like... if you’re cryin’.”
Impa can’t help letting out a soft chuckle as he clumsily tries to wipe away an imaginary tear, and she gently pulls Link’s hand off her cheek, setting it back at his side. “I haven’t been crying, Link. My eyes are naturally this color.”
Link squints at her, face disbelieving, then he frowns.
“I want red eyes,” he says in a sad voice, and Impa brushes his hair away from where it had fallen in his eyes.
“Blue eyes are just as nice as red,” she says patiently, gently picking some more of the blood from his hair. She's talked to her share of concussed people, but concussed Link is... especially curious to speak with. “I’ve always liked blue, actually.”
“Oh... okay. I guess blue... 'r nice."
Link leans into her touch, and Impa holds her hand there longer than she would have otherwise, his eyes slipping closed again. He doesn’t speak for a minute, and Impa almost thinks he’s fallen asleep when he softly grunts.
“I don’t feel good,” he mumbles. “C'n you fix it?”
The way his voice wavers makes something squeeze in her chest. “I’m afraid not. The red potion should help fix you up soon Link, but it’s going to take a little while. You’ll just have to be patient.”
“Head hurts... ‘n stomach.”
“You have a concussion, that’s not surprising,” Impa sighs. “But the red potion should help with that. They’ll both fade, you’ll be all right.”
“Left,” he mumbles, and Impa raises a confused eyebrow. “‘M left-handed. Not right.”
Impa breathes a soft chuckle. “That you are. My apologies.”
Link goes quiet again, and Impa watches him, his face slightly pinched in discomfort. She’s unable to stop herself from studying his face as the silence stretches between them, idly picking out the features he shares with her and his father.
He’s got Volga’s hair, though it’s paler then his, a hint of his Sheikah blood coming through. His nose is hers, as is the overall shape of his face, but his eyes are solely how Volga’s used to be, blue and bright.
Looking at him, you'd never guess he had such unusual blood.
Link must feel her gaze on him, as he opens his eyes and looks at her again. His eyes are eyes half lidded, but focused on her face, and a frown appears on his lips as pain suddenly ripples across his expression. His forehead crinkles, discomfort suddenly more obvious as he shifts in his bed, and Impa leans forward, looking at him with worry.
“Link?”
He squeezes his eyes shut, then opens them again, looking at her with a truly miserable expression.
“...Hurts,” he whispers.
And maybe it’s the time of voice he uses, maybe it’s the mixture of tears and dizziness in his eyes, or the fact that he just looks so young and small and hurt lying there, but Impa abruptly gives in to the side of herself begging to do something other then just sit here.
He likely won't remember any of this tomorrow anyway.
She stands up from her stool as Link lets out a soft groan, and sits herself on the bed, gently sliding him over so she can sit beside him. Her plan was to merely provide comfort by sitting there, but Link almost immediately latches onto her, curling himself halfway on her lap.
Impa can’t really breathe for a few seconds as her son nestles up to her, face still pained, but more relaxed then before. She watches him as he tries to get settled, but he seems to be having trouble finding a comfortable position for his head.
So Impa throws her remaining caution to the wind, and does something she hasn’t done since Link was a baby.
She slowly, carefully, slides him up, shifting him around so his head is resting on her shoulder. Then she begins to gently pet his hair, her fingers trembling a little.
Link goes still, then relaxes, the pain easing on his face.
“There you go...” she says quietly, still slowly running a hand through his hair. She’s careful to avoid the bandages, making sure her fingers only card through hair, and Link about melts under her touch.
A soft sigh escapes him, and Impa swallows, the fact that this is the first time she’s held Link since he was tiny not lost on her.
She quickly blinks back the sting in her eyes.
A sound almost like purring suddenly vibrates from Link’s throat, soft and faint, just loud enough that Impa can hear it. She blinks at him in surprise, but Link doesn’t notice, well on his way to falling asleep.
Impa keeps petting his hair as he dozes against her, the little rumbly noises still coming from his throat. He nuzzles up to her a little more, and Impa pulls his blanket up around his shoulders, holding him just a bit tighter as he finally drifts off.
It's unlikely he'll have any memory of this occurring, Impa quietly soothing him as he falls asleep in her arms.
But that's okay.
Holding him again after so long, gently teasing the last bits of blood from his hair, his head resting under her chin as he softly rumbles... it's enough.
She closes her eyes, and Link sighs again, fully asleep.
Something that kind of annoys me, and comes up in reading heated rivalry fanfiction repeatedly because people wanting some whump largely imitate Shane's injuries in the show for any fic injuries, is how people write concussions. Especially, how the characters experience concussions and how they write the characters to move throughout concussions.
When you are concussed, every head movement and any change in pressure on the head, including through using the muscles to speak and do facial expressions, is exhausting. It's so exhausting.
Hudsons portrayal in the show was pretty good but even he moved a bit too much, and put too much emphasis on words in ways that would not be comfortable (even tho i know he has had multiple concussions. I think he focused on playing the other aspects of the scene and decided to compromise).
And the recovery time is much longer than people write it. They usually check the character out of the hospital after one day, like in the show, and then just have them acting fine. Just because they're not in the hospital anymore doesn't mean the concussion isn't still active.
Being in a driving car while concussed is exhausting. Shaking your head is exhausting. Talking too much is exhausting. Getting touched is exhausting, especially around your head. Moving at all, because almost every movement involves your head experiencing phyics, is exhausting.
Especially for repeat concussions, which both Shane and Ilya most certainly have. They cumulate. The first one, one might be able to kinda shake off, not quite able to place the sensations and thus trying to act normally. The second one will feel like shit, and any afterwards will not be something to shake off, instead throwing you back into the agony place again and again. And by now you also know for certain all that makes you feel worse while you're concussed, so you will absolutely not be moving just like normal.
Another aspect is that fic writers will have the characters do all sorts of thinking and big decisions while concussed. That is absolutely not happening. Thinking is exhausting, much less thinking through a multi step plan or trying to figure out how you feel and contending with repressed emotions. Multiple people talking at once is painful to focus on.
You need a lot of high energy food, and you will be exhausted from any activity after short lengths of time, and nothing will feel as sweet as not moving your head and take a nap (but laying down will still be agony if you try to lay down on anything even adjacent to the concussed area).
So please, either just leave concussions out of it (my strong preference) and leave any loopiness to pain meds and the general shock of injury, or at least give your characters enough space and time and opportunities to recover.
