The Woodblock Chronicles (Blocky x Woody)

Monochromatic Daze

(A/N : hello !! hey !!!! so um . Its been a bit . ive been working more on my tropheese fic but i promise that i still love woodblock ❤ i forgot to post this along with another fic i have so i hope yall like !!! simply just blocky hurt/no comfort because i am evil <3 but dw !!!! the next chaptyer will be nicer (and will be posted soon after this one , as in im posting these back to back

Nightmares weren't unfamiliar .

Blocky knew them , he knew what they were , he knew where most of his usually stemmed from , and they were basically on a first name basis whether Blocky liked it or not .

It wasn't like he always had nightmares , he has normal dreams sometimes ! .. Okay that was sort of a lie . Kinda . Maybe . Mostly . There were the times where all he dreamed of was just nothing , a white void that his thoughts could just never fill ( though , it wasn't like he thought much other than about W - He immediately shuts that thought down .) There were the times when he got to have a normal dream , anything other than gore , something of him interacting with someone , ( speaking with someone he lo - , He shot that thought down as fast as he could) .

... and then there were The nightmares .

The nightmares that struck people in the heart like a lightning strike , forcing your stomach to twist and turn , making it tie itself into a knot , before driving a stake through his chest . It grabbed his soul with an iron white grip , almost feeling as if held your life in its hands .

... Before you just .. Wake up . in a cold sweat , frantically looking around to assure yourself that 'you're not there anymore ' .

Blocky stays still in his bed , propped up against it . He lets out a shaky sigh , desperately trying to repress the trembling in his shoulders (it worked , to an extent . His hands seemed stiffer but shakier all at the same time) . It just made him feel ... so weak . As if he were pathetic and helpless , aimless without anyone to guide him . As if he were a pitiful , worthless person who everyone he's ever had a positive interaction with was just .. doing it to be ...

Blocky dips his head into his hands before looking to the wall beside him . He was right . Gosh - especially Woody ..... he probably hated him nowadays , probably just being friends with him out of mockery . Or fear (Blocky didn't exactly lik e thinking about that one in particular , as much as he knew it was the most probable one) .

It's either this or nightmares , Blocky idly reminds himself . On one hand , going to bed would be easier than coming to terms with his repressed and actively ignored emotions . But on the other , it's not like he would have gotten much sleep if he did decide to go back to bed

Staying up until 9 AM again it is .

He searches for something to think about , trying to fill the gaping hole in his mind that was his other thoughts , bringing a hand to his head to hold it .

He could think about his friends ? .. Are they his friends ?...

He didn't want to think about that .

His thoughts trail anywhere about that topic , about how he'll be going to the mall in a week or two with Pen , Snowball , Eraser , and Woody . That he should clean his room up later (maybe ask Woody about helping him ..) . Cooking something .. with -

Okay so almost all of these were going to basically 100% trail back to Woody .

But how could they not though ? Woody was just so ... pretty . In general . Blocky really liked his voice (he enjoyed how soft it was , but how confident it seemed at the same time . Every time Woody spoke to him , he swore he heard birds singing. It was a nice change from his much rougher sounding voice that was much more loud .)

And again , he was just really handsome .. Sometimes Woody would smile at Blocky , a whole hearted genuine smile . It made his heart skip a beat , Woody seemed to catch him off guard at the worst times .. Not that Blocky particularly minded , but sometimes he couldn't hear Woody's slurred speech over the pounding of his heart .

He runs a hand through his messy , bright red hair . Gosh , he was head over heels for Woody , huh ? It was too bad Woody would never like him .

Blocky blinks , blankly registering the thought in his brain . Woody would never like him , would he ? He was too bold . Too erratic , too annoying . He was too much to handle , how did anyone deal with him ? He was a horrible friend , let alone person .

No one cared about him and he didn't care about anyone , that's how it had been for so long . It was second nature at this point - , to be uncaring and cold towards people he didnt talk to . But now he did care about someone , and it was scary . How was he even supposed to begin to process that ? Blocky doubted Woody even cared about him the same way Blocky did , he was just being nice .

He runs a hand through his hair , trying to calm his brain . That was enough , he huffed , shutting his eyes to try and go back to bed .

How much of an idiot was he to think that anyone cared about him ?

Nobody would ever like him , let alone love him . He was just an idiot for ever thinking that he could improve , that he could have friends . When had he become this weak , anyways ? He was almost crying at this point ! How stupid was that ? He was just stupid , stupid , STUPID . Why did anyone even pretend anymore ? Even if it was genuine , why did they care ? He didn't deserve anything , he didn't do anything , he contributed nothing . If he wasn't being of use , what was he even here for ? He was just a useless idiot . Everyone would just see him as just some bozo , bozo head Blocky , bozo head Blocky !

He swallows a sob and clenches his blanket , shifting to sit up right as tears threatened to roll down his face . Bozo , Bozo , Idiot , Idiot . His mind swam - , it felt like his head was a storm and he was a poor ship at sea . His hands flew up to his hair and harshly pulled on it , practically trying to rip it out of his scalp .

He needed something to ground himself , to bring him back to earth . Water ? Maybe . Maybe ..

Blocky tries to get up , before pathetically getting tangled in his blanket .

He lets out a yelp , his vision blurring as he hits the floor with a loud THUD !

Everything hurt , his body ached , his head pounded , he was practically heaving for air at this point . Forcing himself upright on two shaky legs , he shifts from the ground to leaning against his bed . Snaking two arms (of which were in extreme pain , if Blocky didn't know better he would have thought he broke a bone) around his knees and bunching them up to his chest .

And then he started crying .

What was once a sniffle became cries , before sobs , and at some point along the way it was less of a cry and more of just sobbing into his knees , heaving for breaths and coughing .

And they were loud , Blocky could barely think at this point . His brain felt melted and fuzzy , his head pounding as he hiccuped . When did it get this bad ? He used to be okay . He used to be fine . He didn't know what happened , it just did . And he didn't like it one bit .

How long Blocky was crying , he didn't know , because by the time he stopped , sunlight was already peaking through his curtains to greet him .