TomTord/TordTom Oneshots and eddsworld art

Reasons

back to angst lmao
starting in high school

(Tom's POV)

"Whatcha doing?" Edd asks, peering over my shoulder, behind my chair. I let the pen glide on my skin, drawing over the previous marks to make them darker.
"I'm drawing,"
"On your skin again? Why not draw on paper?" He asks, gesturing to the lined paper on my desk.
"Nah,"

"You could get ink poisoning from that." He huffs.
"It's been scientifically proven that drawing on skin with pen ink does not give you ink poisoning. If I wanted to get ink poisoning, I would have to consume it." I explain, focusing on the red ink flowing out of the gel pen.

"What're you drawing then? Are they cuts again?" He asks.
"You know me so well." I respond, clicking my red pen close and grabbing a black one. I start to layer the black ink on the not-yet dry red ink to mix the colors a bit, making the wounds seem more realistic. Edd watches me with interest, observing the way I draw gore on myself.
"..why do you draw cuts anyway?" He asks curiously.

Because it's the closest I'll ever get to actually cutting myself. I'm too much of a coward to bring a razor to my skin, I have too many risks of being seen.
"They're easy to draw while I'm bored." I answer simply with a shrug, continuing to layer multiple cuts on my wrist and hand.

—————

The blur of red throws me down on the hard, rough concrete, my head crashing into it. Stars burst in my vision as I try to focus my sight. I breathe out a small laugh, shutting my 'eyes' for a moment.
"Jehovah- you're weak. Beating me as soon as I insult you? Short-tempered much?" I tease my attacker, opening my sockets the smallest bit. I squint up, the sun glaring in my 'eyes'.

"What is your problem?!" The Norwegian growls, kicking me in the side. "You always insult anyone that comes your way! You even pick fights with people! Why?!" He rants, glaring down at me. I give him a smirk.
"They are worthless. Why should I care how they feel?" I ask rhetorically.
"Haven't you ever heard of 'treat others the way you want to be treated'? The Golden Rule?" Tord asks, kneeling down to me.

That's what I've been living by this whole time.
"Hah...of course I have. And from what I know, I've been following it this whole time." I mumble with a grin. He seemed to be taken aback for a moment, his glare softening for a split-second before hardening back into its pissed-off look.
"Whatever," He scoffs, standing up and walking off, leaving me bleeding on the ground.

————

"Hello..?"
"Hey, Tom! It's been a while, hasn't it?"
"Oh, yeah. What's up?"
"Well...I heard that your apartment just kicked everyone out recently."
"Mhm...?"
"Well, why don't you stay with us? You know, get the old gang back together? We have an extra room."
"Ew, you sound so old when you say it like that, but...sure."

—————

Among the talkative roommates, I silently rewarded myself for being completely quiet by taking my first bite of dinner.
"Tom? You've been pretty quiet." Matt comments in the middle of a rare meal, in which everyone actually decided to sit down and eat together.
"Mm?" I hum, acknowledging Matt.

"Are you okay?" He asks with concern.
No, I'm not. I haven't been for a long time. I keep thinking I talk too much, no one seems to care about what I have to say anyway. So I'm not supposed to speak unless specifically spoken to. I'm fat, unattractive, so I eat as little as possible. Two of few rules that I've given myself.
"I'm fine, just tired." I answer with a tired look. "Also, I ate a lot for lunch. Not really hungry." I say as I stand from the table and pick up my empty plate to place in the sink.

—————

"God- why do you keep hurting yourself?" Edd asks as he cleans a few cuts on my leg.
Because this is the only way to cause myself pain inconspicuously.
"I don't know, but hey, at least it isn't on purpose." I mumble as an answer, feeling the sting of rubbing alcohol soaking into my flesh. I don't react to the extra pain.

—————

"Jehovah's! You got a package." Tord yells from the front door, holding a small box. I rush over, snatching it from his hands.
"T-thanks," I stutter, starting to walk away.
"What'd you get?" He asks curiously, looking at the package from behind me.
"None of your business." I say, trying to walk away quickly.
"Come on- I promise I won't tell anyone! It's probably just a dildo or something..." he mumbles with a snicker.

"Shut up!" I hiss, whipping around with my face tinging a light pink. "Fine- but you better not tell anybody." I mutter, walking back towards him. I tear open the tape with my nails that I haven't cut in a while. Pulling out the extra packing paper, I pick up the thing I ordered online.

"A knife?" Tord asks, examining the small folding knife in my hand. "Why would you need that?"
Who knows? Just in case, I guess. If I ever wanted to use it, it would be convenient to use instead of razors. No one would suspect it, and I could have it all the time.
"I don't know. It looked cool, and it could be pretty useful." I answer with a shrug, pocketing it and walking away.

—————

I shake the bottle of pills in my hand, listening to the little capsules rattle about. A whole bottle of ibuprofen, straight off the shelf. I set the bottle beside me on the bed as I lay staring at the ceiling. It's easy to take pills. Easy to take 20. So why not end my life now?
Because I'm scared. I'm so, so scared. What's after death? Is it just an emptiness of no conscience? Would I be transferred to a new life, completely forgetting all the times in this one?

Will everyone I know forget me too?

—————

"God, Tom, I never knew..." Tord mumbles in my room. I watch him from my door, him being completely oblivious to my presence. I walk up behind him, hugging him from his back.
"Never knew what?" I ask innocently, leaning against his shoulder blade.
"Why didn't you tell us you were thinking like this..?" He asks, showing my notebook, opened up to a page of my darker thoughts.

What kind of question is that? You guys would brush it off as me being edgy, trying to be dark as a joke. No one takes me seriously, and everyone insults me without an apology. It's a wonder how I haven't hurt myself or killed this worthless body yet.
"Do I need to tell you? I write in that notebook for a reason, to keep things secret." I explain, albeit passive-aggressively. "Why were you looking through my room?"

"I'm just worried about you."

—————

I open up the pills, pouring a few in my hand. I take one by one, making sure they got fully swallowed. With my knife flipped open, I start to do what I've imagined for years. Cutting blemishes into my clean skin, feeling the pain I've dreamt of since the beginning of secondary school. It feels liberating almost.

Taking more pills, cutting more lines without worry, I feel waves of nausea wash over me. I lay in bed, too tired to move, awaiting my inevitable death. No one's home to stop me, no note written to explain why. No one would care, so why bother writing a letter giving reasons to everything I do?

My phone rings beside me, playing a familiar tune.
"Sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows—" I press answer.
"Hey, kjæ- witness. Edd asked if you wanted maple, turkey, or regular bacon." Tord asks without a clue. I give a sigh.
"I-I don't care...n-not anymore at l-least." I stutter weakly with heavy breaths.
"What..do you mean?" Tord asks, concern evident.

"It's b-been nice knowing you, c-commie. S-say bye to Edd n' M-Matt for me..." I slur quietly, closing my 'eyes' with a small huff.
"No...no, you didn't—" I hang up, letting out a long breath.

"Goodbye world..." I mumble into the empty air, falling into an eternal sleep.

A/n:
mm this ain't as sad as usual...
hmm...