-banging pots and pans together- Febuwhump is here, give it all up for Febuwhump!

28 days of daily hurt!character prompts will be compiled in this story. A great majority of them are Techno-centric, but we got Tubbo, Phil, Fundy, and some others with their share of the angst. These were all requested by my lovely followers, so if you want to get in on that next time be sure to follow me: Anarchy-and-Piglins on either Tumblr or Twitter


Day 1 - Head Wound with hurt!Techno

Other characters: Philza

Other tags: Dream smp setting, Butcher army arc, amnesia, permanent injury

Summary: The totem managed to avert death, but not the side effects that catching an anvil to the skull can cause


There's a time for questions, and there are times when survival is the only thing with remaining importance, a red thread cutting through tapestries of black and white.

Technoblade found himself quite unexpectedly thrust into the latter.

He was running, blindly and without direction. Everything that happened in the past half hour blurred together into a foggy mess of people screaming, pain radiating from the top of his head down his spine, and the splotches of blood drying on his skin.

He'd killed a man. And while Techno was relatively certain it was self-defense-

Well, he hoped it was self-defense actually. He did put a pickaxe through the guy's teeth. They seemed very angry at him over something, Techno had no idea what.

Where was he going again?

Nothing looked familiar. The tunnel had led him outside of the city and then Techno did the logical thing, fleeing away from civilization. Aside from the masked stranger who had helped him get a horse and showed him to the escape route, everybody was clearly pissed off at him. Techno wasn't going to stick around to find out why.

But that did leave him wandering, with no clear path to follow. He'd ridden the horse for a while - Carl. The horse was named Carl. The masked man had named it such, not to mention Techno had a distinct feeling that name just fit. He didn't know why, Carl wasn't even a particularly good name for a horse. But it did fit. If Techno had to guess, he hadn't picked it. Somebody else must have.

He'd ridden Carl for a while but the animal was exhausted. Maybe it had gone through some equally harrowing ordeal as Techno himself had. Not that he knew what ordeal that was, but he could venture some guesses.

His arm was bleeding, a wound pulsing painfully along his shoulder. His ankle refused to carry his weight without a stab of hurt with each step (something Techno had elected to ignore). And his head…

Well, you could say he felt like somebody had dropped a giant block of metal on it.

Several times his vision became so blurry for him to actually need to stop walking and close his eyes, take a couple of shallow breathes until the vertigo passed.

So he went by foot instead, a gentle hold on Carl's reigns offering him a semblance of control and something to hold onto if he slipped. The horse nickered softly at him, almost as if concerned over his condition. Techno petted its mane a little.

"It would be nice if you knew the way home, huh Carl?"

Carl turned its head a little, pawing the ground. Horses were supposed to have an excellent sense of direction within a certain radius of their usual terrain. If his elusive home was too far away though, that probably didn't help.

Techno hadn't decided on their next course of action yet when the sound of a twig snapping behind him put him on full alert again.

He spun around, grip tightening on the pickaxe's wooden handle. Blood streaked the iron head of the tool, some residual gore clinging or perhaps frozen on with how long he'd been roaming the cold outside. Techno held it like a last resort, a lifeline.

Something was moving in the shadows.

Offense was usually the best defense and in the spirit of such, Techno lunged forward as soon as the person stalking him got free of the treeline. They were much shorter than him and easily barrelled over by his weight, thrown onto the ground with Techno pinning them down by putting his knees on either side of their ribcage. He held the pickaxe close to their face in warning.

"Why did you follow me?"

The man beneath him had yelped at being tackled, but in the face of his threat, they went remarkably still, body loose and pushed back. Non-confrontational. They didn't want to fight, and they were being horribly casual about the situation.

"I came to check if you'd made it home safe." They smiled a little, blond hair getting in their blue eyes. "And apparently not. Human GPS my ass."

Techno sat up straight, lowering the weapon. There hadn't been a trace of fear on their face the entire time - surprise maybe, but not fear.

He didn't know why, but a voice (voices?) inside him insisted they were familiar, safe.

"Sorry if I'm a bit jumpy. Can't exactly tell who to trust at the moment." He got up and helped them do the same.

"Even with me? Come on Techno…" They spoke dismissively, but the way they were looking at him betrayed their unease. Were they upset? Disturbed?

Apprehensive?

He grabbed Carl by the reigns again. At his lack of answer, their shoulders dropped. "You don't remember me do you?"

"If it's any consolation, I don't remember anything."

"Oh…"

And Techno didn't know he could feel bad for so clearly hurting somebody who he hardly even knew, but there had to be a first for everything.

"I don't suppose you happen to know where I live?" he asked. They blinked, snapped out of something deep and painful.

"Yeah, of course. I'll take you there, get you patched up." They offered him another smile, much more restrained. "I'm Phil, by the way. I'm... a friend."

"Technoblade, though I'm guessing you already knew that."

Phil laughed, holding out his hand. "Sure do. Nice to meet you either way."

Despite the absurdity of the situation, Techno shook it.