Jamilton Oneshots :)

centripetal*(i) [Jamilton]

since i wrote their beginning, why not write the ending?? :) yes, I've planned the start and the end but let's forget character development because I'm lazy and I don't have enough chapters for that.

alternate name: they all die at the end.

content warning : major character death (it's okay they're at peace with each other), double suicide (dazai-san don't at me) and maybe a little bit of angst. only a little. omegaverse dynamics, yknow, more of the same things I've highlighted in centrifugal. yeah.

-
centripetal (physics) — moving or tending to move towards a centre.
-

part x : tranquility

"my loving you meant only heartaches;
I can't believe it's only a burning memory,
what does it matter how my heart breaks?
I know I should be happy with someone new,
but my heart aches for you."
—

alexander touches the old mark, shiny and white, still a proof of his bond with thomas. even he couldn't discern his original scent, a fruity, fragrant one, as expected as an omega, like grapes left to ferment on the grapevine, like an apple freshly haversted, a cut peach drizzled in syrup, however, those nuances are muted, and blended, so much so that if someone didn't know him before thomas became his mate, they couldn't find where his scent ended and thomas' started. his scent had been changed forever the moment thomas locked his lips over his scent gland, and now?

he was told that the heady scent of mates (a unique scent that could be discerned from a mile away) was ever omnipresent, signifying a strong bond between mates (he hadn't bothered to tell them thomas had a blatant possessiveness, almost irrational, to the point where he couldn't wear his own shirts without thomas eyeing him hungrily, or that he'd scent mark him almost regularly).

he already knew their lifestyle that fixated around each other wasn't going to end well. anything that was too good to be true really was too good to be true. due to the death of a certain omega, thomas defected from the mafia and disappeared off the radar (oh no bsd has a death grip on me) and now? he smelt so strongly of rejected omega that everywhere he went there was only looks of pity or condescending smirks. oh, no. he had too many people hit on him, ever daring to blatantly grope a mafia executive's ass. no, he was just a figurehead. he was the faux executive of the mafia, and he could only wallow in self pity of the fate betrothed to him.

but today is where all that ends. he's tired of defending himself. what does it matter? he's going to be just another anomaly statistic on a graph. another rejected omega while the alpha thrives. such is the fate that people like him suffer from. he's trapped, literally and figuratively, by love, by biology, by loyalty. he always asked: when's it gonna get me? now he knows: he's going to get it. he's going to die. such a foreboding fate, and yet, he can't help but feel at peace with that decision.

burr can't control him anymore. he won't have to bow to any alpha, even if it is just a grunt. he doesn't have to submit to alpha commands, nor ever get bested by a situation where he was already predetermined to lose. the prospect of control over himself sends a shiver down his spine. it's a pain to be alive in a world where he's treated as nothing but a whore, a tool or a toy.

life can only be a dream for so long.

he stands at the edge of headquarters, the roof merely being a small platform with a rusty ledge. corrosion, just like how that last challenge against his alpha corroded him. he had told— no, that was an understatement, he pleaded thomas not to go, because he loved him. and what did that do to him, he thought bitterly. out of all the people he's taking his own life to spite, he despises his alpha the most. to think he loved him once.

with all the dignity he could, and would,muster, he jumped.

the cold air whistles around him, the winds whipping against him, and he closes his eyes. he'd definitely die on impact.

suddenly, he felt a pair of too-warm arms wrap around him, and he blinks in surprise. thomas.

and he repeats the same phrase too. it's not an unrequited love anymore. he's loved, and that's all that matters. he forgives his alpha, after all.

they let the pull of gravity pull them closer, like usual. it's a morbid reunion, but they'll go through it.

together.

end: Polaris
- love is a steadfast star leading us home.

i was listening to touch you while writing this i truly am a different breed 😈 anyways this is the last oneshot! the next story will be a quartet (devotion) you'll see a 1-3 day pause from now, and then I'll post as soon as i finish beta reading the arcs :) hope to see you in this last magnum opus of this oneshot book! I can't believe we've gotten this far.

:) *burp*

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