Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tommy had thought about running away before, of course he had. You don’t grow up in a house like this without thinking about it. 

It’s just, well, that would be work. And Tommy doesn’t have the energy, not anymore. 

It was like the house sucked every bit of happiness out of him. He supposes he was a happy child, at some point that he can’t remember anymore. That’s what Phil tells him at least. 

But that child, if it ever really existed, had vanished years ago. 

Everything was grey, felt grey, and the most Tommy ever really felt was pain, but in a distant sort of way. 

Okay, maybe that sounded a bit too much like teenage angst, even for him, but it’s kind of true. 

Tommy was alone, mostly because everyone else had seemingly forgotten about him years ago. 

He’d had two older brothers at some point, and he had loved them dearly. Only, maybe he hadn’t been enough, or maybe they just also could not stand to stay at this house, either way, both of them had gone off to college a few years ago, and he’d heard nothing from them ever since. 

It hurt, sure, especially because he and Wilbur had had an especially close bond, as in, he saw him as more of a father figure than his actual father, but it’s not like Tommy had any say about anything anyway. 

His father was, and is another story entirely. He seemed to be the perfect dad from the outside, always smiling and not too hard on him, but that was more shine than truth. 

Truth is, Tommy’s sees his dad maybe twice a week, he’s always gone when Tommy gets up for school, and he’s still gone when Tommy goes to bed. 

It’s not that Tommy particularly wanted to talk to the man anyway, they didn’t get along really, but it was still a little disheartening to basically live alone at the age of sixteen (going on seventeen). 

Tommy didn’t spend a lot of time at home either, because as mentioned prior, the house was probably a dementor in disguise. Not the best place to be, if you get his drift. 

Instead, Tommy did the typical, hanging out in malls and fast food parking lots, joking around with his friends and pretending not to care when his father forgets to buy enough grocery’s for two again. 

He’s a pro at forging permission slips though, which helps him out immensely when his teachers become slightly suspicious. It had been worse when he was younger, because apparently elementary and middle schoolers should actually know what their dad does for work, or where he was born. Not that that Information is actually in anyway useful for him. Nowadays he just makes stuff up, it’s not like the teachers care about him in particular. 

Sometime, sometimes though, he gets jealous. Watching kids playing with their parents in the park whilst making up his mind wether he wanted to order out or cook today. 

Still, he supposes he could have it worse, if you ignore the blatant depression he suffers from. He guesses that’s just a quirky teeny thing though. 

Thing is, he clearly needs an outlet for all his pent up emotion, he can’t go on like this, and he knows it too. 

So, he does something he’d never actively done before. 

He starts just pouring out his emotions on a lone piece of paper, he blinks and suddenly five hours have passed and he’s filled half a notebook just writing. His hands ache, but his mind is reeling with satisfaction and for the first time in a long time he feels somewhat content. Like finally, something has changed, he’s found the thing that had been missing from his life. 

It becomes his main focus for the next few days, just writing and writing until he can’t possibly think about anything else anymore, filling more and more pages with words and stories until he realizes, shit, this stuff isn’t bad. 

He’d never been an avid reader or anything but he did find joy in reading sometimes and he could recognize that besides some obvious editing that was required, his stories made sense. 

His friends start asking questions around week two, when he finally does not even answer texts anymore, ignoring everyone and everything that could cause an interruption. He tells them about his hobby, though he doesn’t let them read, being a bit embarrassed to lay his heart and soul out for them to understand. 

They are a bit more understanding after that, but Tommy can feel deep down that they don’t actually get it. How could they, when he barely understood it himself? 

Chapter Text

From that point forward, Tommy’s life changes. It’s weird, how fast everything can move when you’ve found something you’re passionate about. 

It feels like only a week since he’s discovered his talent, but it’s closer to six months. Tommy’s finished his first book, an adventure novel surrounding the story of a lost boy on the streets of England, titled “The crowned head”, and he’s extremely proud. 

Of course, he hasn’t actually shown anyone his book, but he has a meeting today after school, with a representative from a publishing company that had taken interest and he’s pretty sure his book might actually get published. 

Nobody around him knows that he’s finished the book, hell most people (including his dad) don’t even know he’d started writing something at all, but soon they’ll know, soon everyone will be able to read his story, which, if he could say so himself, was pretty fantastic!

The agent was nice enough, he thinks, and the possibility of an editor was more than enough to draw him in, even before the agent mentioned the amount of money he could possibly get for it. 

Tommy hadn’t t started his journey for money, he’d had enough he thought, but now that the man mentioned it, a whole realm of possibilities had opened up to him. Like, let’s say, moving out at 18 without having to be dependent on his dad’s money. 

Sadly, when he came home after the meeting, the house was dark and he had nobody to really talk about his success with, so he just started writing again. He’d always planned for the book to have a sequel, and now that the first one might get published, that was all the more incentive y6o start of the second book. 

Still, Tommy couldn’t help but feel somewhat alone, just in his dark room writing away or drawing up plans for maps and storyline ideas. 

He had social media before, but wasn’t too interested up until the present, mostly because he had no idea what the people would be interested in hearing about, but now the concept seemed more to his liking. 

So, that evening he spend thinking up a username besides his own, and making a profile on twitter and insta. besides, it would probably be helpful for promoting his books in the future, right? 

He followed a bunch of writing accounts, just to get to the right people and began typing his very first tweet. 

Thomas is writing 

@thomasink_official

Y/A author // Soon to be published (hopefully)

(He/him prns only)

Joined ______

Thomas is writing @thomasink_official 

Hey guys, new to twitter, I’m an aspiring author and would be glad to find mutual who enjoy writing just as much as I do! 

2 comments 5 retweets 15 likes 

Soon, his phone had a new notification, his very first follower. Tommy follows back. 

The next few day introduce him to his second big passion, social media. Tommy hadn’t waltzed what he’d been missing out on as he started to amass followers and likes, tweeting about his life his books and more. He’s not a giant account by any means but he does have followers that boost his ego quite a bit, especially when he’s once again completely alone at home, trying to cheer himself up. 

Plus, he’d had no idea how many helpful tips there were online for authors like him. So many ways to plot the following chapters, to have emotional character arcs or even just how to build up a joke correctly. 

It improved his writing immensely, he felt, so much so that he could barely contain himself from editing his first book draft before it even got read trough by the agent. 

Who, by the way, takes five days to respond to his email about the draft, telling him that he’ll get an editor, but it reads well, and that they’ll accept it. 

That night, his first emotional tweet goes kinda viral, which is to say, extremely viral, so much so that Tommy barely knows how to deal with all the newfound attention that he’s getting. 

Thomas is writing @thomasink_official 

GUYS MY BOOK IS GETTING PUBLISHEDGHGHG

EVERYONE THIS IS NOT A DRILL AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH

367 comments 12,6K retweets 154K likes 

His follower count racks up from around a thousand to moe than five over night and finally everything seems to be looking up for him. 

His dad still doesn’t know about the book, not that Tommy thinks that the man would particularly care. 

When his agent asks him if he want’s to use a pen name to publish, Tommy doesn’t even hav e to think about it before agreeing. He doesn’t want his dads name on that book, even if its also his own. Not, he wants Thomas Ink, the name he’s thought of by himself, the one that actually sounds cool. 

Plus, secretly, Tommy enjoys how it’s in the same vain as Soot, the name his big brother grace himself in his band. It’s not the same, but Tommy can still connect the two and that’s enough. 

God, he misses his brothers. 

His teachers at school are somewhat concerned, he knows, because suddenly his grades have turned from average to very much below average in every class but English, but Tommy can’t bring himself to care, He’s found what makes him happy, and he knows he doesn’t need a college degree for it. 

The next few weeks are spend not only on editing his first book again, giving it first a rough cut and later polishing it up int something that Tommy can barely believe is his own, but also on writing the first draft for the second book. 

It’s slower than the first book, especially because it’s less of a vent write and more something he does with the awareness in the back of his mind that other people are gonna be able to read it, and he wants to make the best possible version.

His twitter grows further and he uses it to promote his new book as best as he can, even if he doesn’t really know wether it works or not. 

When his agent finally approaches him to ask about a cover, wether he wants to design it himself or hire someone, or if the publishing company wants to do that for him, he doesn’t even hesitate before commissioning someone he’s met trough his twitter. 

The user with the name @tubboisranboosboi is insanely talented, and they had hit it off right from the start. He wouldn’t even hesitate to call the other a friend at this point. Still, he doesn’t bank on their blossoming friendship and instead pays him actual money because he knows how much is art is worth.

When he finally sees the cover, he’s ecstatic, it’s everything he’d wanted and more, which is agent actually agrees with as he sends it over. 

The top of a head with a crown that’s sparkling with a bunch of jewels. Simple, but it works with the vibe he’s going for. 

The title image

It’s then that everything starts to feel less like a fever dream and more like reality. 

He has a cover, a name and soon the final draft. His book is gonna get sold everywhere and that’s without anyone knowing who he is. That he’s just a teen that sits in his bedroom and angsts. 

It’s insane how easy everything had been, how a few forged signatures where all that had been needed for his agent to say yeah, we’ll publish this without ever meeting your family. 

Then,  he receives a package, a few days after everything’s been finalized, a suspiciously book shaped package, which eh opens to finally hold the first copy of his own book that he’s been working on for like eight months now. It’s surreal in a way, to know how much work had been put not this, how he was actually an author and not someone who was simply failing high school. 

He posts a photo, simply with about eight exclamation points, and falls backwards onto his bed. Shifting trough the pages that he’s written himself, in this very room is exhilarating, and he chats with Tubbo for the rest of the night, both of them more than a little excited for the book to finally appear in stores and online.

Of course, there are always moments of self doubt, because what if the book flops? What if nobody wants to read his story, what if he actually sucks and everybody had just bee too nice to tell him so far? 

His worries seem to be unfounded however, since the book comes out for pre order and already more than 500 people have ordered it without it even being done printing. 

His agent tells him that that’s a very good number, especially because he’s a first time author. It makes Tommy even more excited for the actual launch, especially when he realizes how much money he will actually get and be able to save for when he can move out. 

Plus, through all the excitement he’s nearly finished his second book, and with a much better draft than last time. He thinks it will probably be even better received since now he actually has an idea what work sin writing and what doesn’t. 

On release day, he’s alone, how typical. he’d had a call with the publishing company earlier, going over some last minute stuff, but now he’s alone in his bedroom, watching the time run down, and the number of orders go up. 

He’s chatting with Tubbo mostly, since they’ve become even closer, and who is sharing his excitement, but Tommy can’t help but feel lonely anyway. He thinks that other family’s would probably be proud if their child accomplished something like this, but his doesn’t even know. He’s so alone, with a few friends that’s just aren’t enough and this shitty home. 

In a spell; of frustration, Tommy sneaks downstairs and pours himself some of his dads alcohol. He knows that it’s probably a bad idea, but he’s frustrated and to agitated to write much of sense. Plus, what else can he do to rebel? For him to act out his father would first have to be there to take a notice. 

He gets shitfaced and wakes up the next day on his bed, with a pounding head and a burn in his throat. Making his way to the toilet he almost forgets about what happened last night, like, let’s say, that his BOOK WENT UP???!!

Rushing over to his computer he checks his stats. Oh god, so many people had ordered his book it’s now on some lists on amazon, as in taking place #25 on new releases, meaning his book go it an additional push. 

Orders are flooding his inbox and he sits there in shocked silence. This was real. Oh god, he was actually a published author. 

Thomas has published a book?? @thomasink_official

GUYS THIS IS NOT A DRILL< GO GO GO!!!!

20 comments 467 retweets 17,5K likes

His mentions are filled with people congratulating him and Tommy can’t do anything but smile, spinning in his chair, knowing that yeah, he did that. 

Chapter Text

To claim that Tommy was nervous would be an understatement.

Another few weeks had flown by and with them, Tommy’s initial excitement about his book. He’s earned far more so far, than he’d ever dared to dream, but he wasn’t one to sit back and simply enjoy his success.

The sequel he’d begun before the first book had even been printed, was nearly finished, and though Tommy did enjoy the world he’d created, he knew it wouldn’t be the only one. Already his fingers ached to write more, to explore the limits of his abilities, to get to publish more, better work for others to read.

The money was certainly a nice benefit, even if it hadn’t been his original goal. Now though, suddenly he had opportunities, possibilities that meant he could probably move out at 18 without having to survive purely off of ramen.

Because even still with his somewhat secret success in his other life, he remained right where he’d started out, in a house that nobody had called home in a long time, under the curse of sickly sweet pretenses and thick air he threatened to choke on.

Be that as it maybe, he was positive that his life was looking up. He just had to get trough this last year, (less now, really), and then he could do what his brothers had done before him and flee.

The trot of everyday life had finally caught up with him again, even if his routines and priorities had changed somewhat dramatically.

So, when one evening, Tommy returned to a house that for once was lit up with light, you could say that he was rightfully confused. He hadn’t had an actual conversation with his dad in ages, so a whole ground floor filled with movement was definitely unusual.

Additionally, he noticed the car, parked on the sidewalk right in front of their house, an unknown number on the front.
So, he concluded, someone had come to visit, most likely his dad.

There weren’t many people that even knew where they lived, and less that would actually drive there, so the immediate subjects were his brothers.

They hadn’t been an the house in ages, longer than Tommy cared to count, so it seemed somewhat unlikely for them to have returned, but then who else?

Swallowing the lump that had formed in the back of his throat, Tommy walked up to the door, telling himself that he wasn’t bitter nobody had cared to inform him about the guests, really!

(It didn’t work)

Opening the door, that for once was unlocked, felt more like a life sentence in prison then a return after a long day of research for his books. Hearing the voices, low in tone but still somewhat happy felt more like a punch to the gut than anything, but he ventured on, towards the kitchen where for the first time in at least two years, his whole family was gathered.

Sadly, he did not get the opportunity to simply stand in the door, watching them, as their father caught his eyes, making everyone else aware of his presence as well.

“Oh, Hey Tommy, we’ve been waiting for you! Look who’s decided to grace us with a visit, your brothers!”
The jovial look on his fathers face made him want to turn around and run as far and wide as he possibly could, but he remained where he was, managing a somewhat uncomfortable smile.

“I noticed! I didn’t know you were coming, or I would’ve come by earlier. What a nice surprise! Is it a special occasion?”

Ok, so, the sarcasm at the tip of his tongue might’ve been a little meaner than intended, but you could hardly fault him for his bitterness, right?

In any case, the two of them acted ignorant to the actual meaning behind his sugar sweet words, or at least they acted like it.

The distance had done them well, both of them had had somewhat of a glow-up since their awkward teenage phases.

Techno must’ve hit the gym a few times too many, since the already muscular guy now looked more akin to a mountain, the tough look only broken by his long pink hair, that softened his features. It looked good, Tommy had to admit, even if it wasn’t his style.

Wilbur, the brother he was far closer with, hadn’t changed as much. He’d grown his hair out a little, making it look fluffy as it spilled out the front of the red beanie he was wearing. He’d also acquired a pair of round glasses that made him look somewhat like Harry Potter, something which Tommy didn’t hesitate to tell him.

The other laughed, coming closer to pat him on the back, making their height difference more obvious. Or rather, the lack of it. Last time Tommy had seen him, he had to have been at least a head shorter than his enormously tall brother, but now the difference was probably more like two inches, if that.

Wilbur didn’t comment on it, but Technoblade definitely noticed, as his eyebrows rose and he quickly coughed to hide a laugh.

He still smelled the same, Tommy noted absentmindedly, and what a weird thought that was. But Wilbur had always smelled like home to Tommy, somewhat like honey and sandalwood and somehow that smell had anchored itself deep inside Tommy’s mind, attaching it to every happy memory of his childhood he could remember.

God, he had missed his brother.

The following dinner had been awkward to say the least. How do you talk to someone that you loved, but who left without any way to contact them?
They all had developed differently, and now as they sat together, the distance was made abundantly clear in every joke that didn’t land and every question that hit just a little too close to home.

Tommy does learn what his brothers had been up to, though, so that’s nice.

Techno had actually gone into professional boxing for a while, explaining the massive amounts of muscle that now decorated his upper body, but, as he explained to a very curious Tommy, he’d quit to start his degree in English of all things.

That was at least one thing Tommy shared with brother, since he was sure that if he ever went to uni, that he would surely pursue writing.
The stuff sounds interesting as hell, even if his influx of questions garnered him a few looks from the remaining family.

He was not ashamed of his interest so they could suck it.

Eventually, Wilbur too told his story, how he was currently front singer and songwriter in a somewhat successful band, how he’d started studying geography but had dropped out to instead do online content.

Phil was clearly not very happy with his decision, as the old man was somewhat conservative in his worldview and would’ve probably liked for at least one of his sons to have finished a bachelor in something already, but Tommy could care less.

Both his older brothers had pursued passions similar to his own, meaning that if he ever had questions he could most likely ask somebody personally instead of just screaming on social media.

It was a nice feeling, even if the abandonment of the two still hurt in a major way. Now, it seemed the two had kept contact and wanted to reestablish a relationship with the other half off their family, and Tommy could’ve fault them, at least not as much as he wanted too.

Did he not have the exact same plan? Had they not gone a path not unlike his own? How could he be so selfish to ask for more than their happiness, if he was chasing the very same goal?

He’d never realized how similar the three of them were, but now that he’d seen it, he could not unsee it.

The banter came back easier, the longer the four of them sat at the table. The dessert had already been served when the conversation turned towards Tommy’s own future.

Truthfully Tommy had waited for an opportunity like this top drop his bombshell, he simply wasn’t a very secretive person and the satisfaction he’d get from their shock was enough that he didn’t care about the consequences further down the line.

“So, Tommy, any plans for the future?”

“What, oh yeah, I’m planning on moving out when I turn 18.”

Chapter Text

“So, Tommy, any plans for the future?”

“What, oh yeah, I’m planning on moving out when I turn 18.”

Silence, absolute silence. 

Three sets of eyes were staring at Tommy, questioning their hearing and possibly his sanity. Good, it’s what they deserved. 

“You want to move out…. At 18?”

Tommy nodded. 

“With what money?”

Smirking, Tommy lent back, seemingly lounging with ease on his chair. The reactions were going exactly how he imagined them to go, and he was enjoying every second of it. 

“Oh dad, I thought you knew; I’m an author, a published one even.”

If the silence before seemed loud, this one was practically screaming. 

“You’re an author? Why didn’t you say anything, that’s great! Have you written something I might’ve heard off?”, finally Wilbur spoke up, far more jovial than Tommy had truly imagined. 

“Wasn’t like you left an email or me to tell you, eh. And I don’t know if you’ve heard of it, name’s ‘the Uncrowned Head.’”

Techno stared at him, confused. “You’re telling us you’ve written the ‘Uncrowned Head’? Listen bud, I’ve read that book and it’s pretty good, but I kind of would’ve noticed if the name of my little brother was on the front.”

“Pen-name Innit, didn’t want my real name to get all the attention, you know. ”

“It’s Thomas Ink, if you were wondering”, Tommy turned to Wilbur, who had taken out his phone, presumably to search up his book.

Wilbur looked up, recognition twinkling in his eyes, but he didn’t say a word. Instead, their father decided to throw in his own two cents; “Tommy, why is this the first time I’m hearing about this? I’m pretty sure you need an adults permission to publish a book?”

His grin broadened, “Actually, you don’t. And I didn’t really try to hide it, you know, you could’ve asked… Or, oops I forgot, you actually couldn’t because this is the first time you’re speaking to me in weeks, or maybe months.”

And just like that, the spotlight turned away from him and onto their dad. 

“Phil, what is he saying? You live together, how can this be the first time you’ve heard any of this? Don’t tell me you juts continued like before, after we moved out!”

“Nope, that’s exactly what he did, and that’s also the reason I’m planning on moving.”, Tommy chimed in, truly just wanting to stir the pot. Ah, the attention. 

With that, feeling that he’d done enough chaos for the night, Tommy got up, and without another word walked into his room, shutting the door with a slightly too loud bang. 

Truly, Tommy hadn’t expected anyone to follow him, but it only took a minute before someone knocked on his door.

Startling, Tommy opened it to the sorrowful face of Wilbur. “Oh Toms, what happened? I’m sorry you had to live like this.”

His big brother closed his arms around him -and to his terror- began to cry. 

Awkwardly, Tommy patted his back, unaccustomed to so much emotion and physical contact. guiding the still slightly taller figure to his bed, the both of them sat down, Wilbur still with his arms around Tommy, silently hugging.

The only interruption came from a hunched over Techno that eventually appeared in the door, as awkward as always but seemingly just as sorry as his younger twin. 

They sat in silence for a while, before techno saw the book on his desk, the thing that had caused all of this. 

“I wasn’t lying, you know. It really is a pretty good book.”

Tommy smiled, “Thanks.”

Wilbur reached over and grabbed it, opening it on a random page, skimming over its content. The hesitant smile that spread across his lips was enough, he didn’t have to say a word. 

“Tommy, you know we never meant to leave you behind, right?”

“Yeah bud, we never meant for something like this to happen, for you to feel like we abandoned you or something.”

It was everything Tommy had imagined and yet, the ache in his chest remained. Because a wound can heal but you’ll always see the scar. 

“You really wanna move out?”, Tommy snorted, as if that was even a question. 

The twins looked up, seemingly communicating without a word. They’d done that since Tommy could remember, and it had always freaked him out.  

“How would you feel, if instead of going out all on your own, you’d move in with us? It’s nothing too fancy but-“, Tommy hugged his brother tighter than ever before, before he could even finish the sentence. 

“Yes, a hundred times yes! But just so we’re clear, I’ll still pay rent okay, I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You could never be a burden for us, Tommy. But if you really want to, yeah, you can pay rent. After all, you have to spend the money from your books somehow, right?”

Tommy laughed, even if it maybe sounded like he wanted to cry. (He didn’t, he was a big man, and big men don’t cry.)

“Speaking off, when are you planning of releasing the sequel? The ending was so mean, I need to know what happens next!”, hearing his older brother speak with such enthusiasm about something he’d written himself, well it made Tommy happy.

Abruptly, he stood up, walking over to the nook next to his desk where the finished manuscript for the sequel was hidden. It was by no means the version that would get published, but it did have the entire plot down already, and Tommy could never say no to his big brother. 

“If you really need to know, you can read this, but the preorder date will also come out soon, I think”

Techno was satisfied, already having begun to read the manuscript, as Tommy once again set down next to Wilbur, who looked at him with such adoration, it made his heart ache.

“I’m proud of you Tommy, you know that, right?”

Silently Tommy nodded, his head on his brothers shoulder, breathing in rhythm again after years of loneliness.