Jamilton Oneshots :)

the literature of possibility [Jamilton]

bro there's literature in the title you know it's gonna be poetic (also don't mind me— it's a sad one because i love hurting people.) yeah. (about centrifugal- I'm not sure if it will continue because I don't know how the fuck to progress)

canon divergence, with about way too much pain and eliza knows jamilton and marliza happens( they're good friends)

Burr falls. the shot alexander dealt him was fatal after all. but the bullet approaching him did not hit him. a flash of magenta, and he was on the forest floor, with thomas a heavy weight upon him.

no.

this was indeed the truth, alexander survives, but at what cost? there was a wet cough, but it wasn't his.

He's fine. why was he fine?

Thomas is spitting blood onto alexander's chest. he struggles to lift his head, the blood staining his teeth a forever crimson. "Shouldn't you be praising me,alexander?" he barely manages to chokes out, swallowing the blood instead of spitting it out, like a normal person would. "I saved you, right?"

alexander jerks upright. thomas yelps, breath quickening and face contorting with pain. He's quick to lay thomas down again, pressing his hands over the wound in his chest that's already soaked through all the layers of his clothes and pools around him on the floor like a crimson lake. thomas' hair splays around him like a mocking halo of dark curls. His lopsided grin is soft, one alexander has come to love in mornings they slept together, and there was no restraint holding it back, almost as if the universe was mocking him for his inability to judge a situation and for not protecting his lover.

"thank you, alexander."

alexander's breath catches in his throat. he'd failed, again.

There's so much blood. The iron tang in the air is thick enough to make him throw up. He caresses thomas' face with a shaking hand, running a thumb over his cheek and smearing red across his sun-kissed skin, the healthy glow rapidly fading,

"I never imagined I'd be in your arms like this. It was always the other way around, isn't it? what a nice way to die." thomas says,lightheartedly, almost as if they were discussing the weather and not him leaking hurt juice all over alexander.

"No. Thomas. no, you're not going to die...!" The first words he's managed to get past the lump in his throat. He tries to say more, but he doesn't know what he's supposed to say. There's nothing to say. Too many options overlap and catch on his tongue. He hears himself saying all of them in the futures that exist only in his mind, but he doesn't know what Thomas' response will be to any of them.

"Hey," Thomas' eyes glaze over, unfocused, still trying to look at Alexander's face even as he's sure the older man's vision is going dark. Thomas feebly lifts his hand to his own cheek, and Alexander quickly takes Thomas' hand in his own. It's slick with blood, but he tries to grasp it. Like if he can hold on tight enough, he can prevent Thomas from slipping away. "I think I-I love you." Blood spills over his lips. He doesn't swallow it down.

"Thomas!"

Thomas' hands go limp.

Alexander's first instinct is to drop it. The skin and blood burns his hand, but he can't. He squeezes Thomas' unmoving hand, and his tears mix with the blood smeared across both their fingers.

Thomas is dead.

His children are dead.

Burr is dead. Alexander already got his revenge.

Alexander wasn't supposed to be alive to see the aftermath.

Thomas wasn't supposed to be aftermath.

His chest is hollow. Death has carved out whatever was left of his heart.

Again, Alexander screams.

—
(alt. ending.) (alexander lives forever)

alexander takes out the spinning turquoise device, his bloodied clothes disappearing after he laid this timeline's thomas into the cold, hard forest floor, the tattered emerald coat replaced with a maroon cape, his clothes turning into the familiar time traveller's suit.  alexander fiddles with the device,turning the biggest ring 7 times, the medium ring 5 times, and a bright light engulfs him.

The year is 2550, 705 years from where he came from. Martha Schuyler, or at least a version of her, greets him, a sad look of understanding on her face, almost as if she saw through him. Eliza's and Thomas' ghost hang through the unspoken words that never should've happened.

he'd timetravel again. whatever it takes to save his lover and his best friend.

—
oh hi. have some of thomas' hurt juice.

anyway i hope you enjoyed???

Happy halloween! 🎃
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[800 words]