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soulmate au, but not necessarily lovers
bc thats dumb
but what im thinkin for hamburr is,, like
sharin a body almost
when alex gets hurt, burr feels it
and vice versa
any scars you get are shared
and u can write on ur body and your soulmate can see it and respond
burr never thought he had a soulmate
he never knew if his parents were soulmates, they died before he could really find out
he was tossed around from relative to relative, the system trying to shove him somewhere he didnt fit
(and by didnt fit he means that his caretakers would beat the shit out of him)
everybody he ever loved or was told to care about somehow died
surely, someone like him wouldnt have a soulmate
and if he did, theyd be /doomed/
(because who would want him? he's like a walking talking bad luck charm)
he'd first started noticing the pains about a few weeks into grade school
it /burned/
there was a sickening sort of ache running up his back side and burning at his thighs
he never told anyone because it was in such an intimate area
(also because his grandfather would beat the shit out of him if he said anything anyway)
sometimes it would burn around his neck, choking him, and he would have to politely excuse himself from class without sounding too strained to go gag and gasp for air in the bathrooms
sometimes the pains would run, like scratches, down his back
he'd find himself nearly yelping in class because hot, thin burns were digging into his wrists
(alex's dad liked to smoke. alex's dad didn't like ashtrays.)
he thought that surely his soulmate is a demon, why else would he be hurting him like this?
he'd be jostled around in his sleep, waken by his own body shaking itself awake
he'd only believed it was something possibly human when he received the following words on his arm in shaky, patchy ballpoint pen on his forearm
coucou, j'espère que tout va bien.
(hello, i hope all is well.)
burr had been washing his hands before dinner when his arm started to tickle, and he peered down and saw /moving letters on his skin/
he immediately took up french, had learned some from some old books his grandfather had, and was able to translate the message soon enough
he writes back a few weeks later
Ça va bien. Comment ça va?
je ne ses pais
comes back a few hours later
and burr doesnt know how to feel about that for a long time
a few days later, his entire body goes /hot/
(had his soulmate just /liked/ burning him alive? was it just a hobby of theirs?)
he's no longer with his grandfather, he'd seen his body stiffen and slump in his armchair, had checked his pulse, and called paramedics
(he felt bad that he didn't care, but how else should he feel? sad? why?)
his aunt dabs at his forehead with a wet cloth, scolds him and tells him that he should have worn his coat more often, but he insists that /he/ doesn't have the fever
he vomits uncontrollably, shakes, and trembles
at one point where he's sleeping, he feels this strange wave of /absolute dread/ wash over him
he can't eat properly for weeks after, though he somehow manages to force himself to
he doesn't get any writing for a long time
and all he feels now is sinking dread, his soulmate having slight waves of it more often than others
he starts to wonder if his soulmate has died, and he's just feeling their body rot
he needs to get out, so he studies, /hard,/ and makes it to columbia after being rejected, and is in college at the age of 15
he's reading when he starts to shake
and he sets aside his book and furrows his brow because this was new
he can't stop shaking, and he tries to get up, but he stumbles and lands awkwardly on his knees
it takes him a moment of trying to step right that he realizes he can't breathe
he has the first anxiety attack of his life
so he writes
Are you okay?
on his arm
and he almost smacks himself in the head because his soulmate speaks /french/ not english, and he's already starting to wipe it off when
i don't know
sorry, i left you hanging with that last time
i'm sorry
burr swallows as he watches the letters be smudged away
burr writes, tentatively
What happened?
and at first there are a few words, but they're quickly wiped away
and then his arms starts /tingling/
his entire arm is covered with tiny handwriting in a matter of seconds, crawling up his arms and it feels like /bugs/
after five minutes his chest is covered, then his tummy, then his thighs, then his legs, and spreading to the other arm
his soulmate writes, on his palm
i couldn't reach my back so just tell me when you're done so i can continue
burr almost /laughs/
but he does read what he can manage
this... this is horrifying
"strike astonishment into the angels" - his soulmate knew how to /write/
burr writes back on his palm
You need to write this on paper. This is amazing.
the writing appears quickly
oh, thank you. and you haven't even reading it finished yet. :)
he feels his body being wiped clean, the words slowly fading
and burr writes
How old are you?
the response confuses him
that depends.
b: Why?
a: because it does.
b: I don't understand.
a: well, if i want to actually get somewhere in life, i'm 17. if i want easy money, i'm 13.
b: ‘Easy money?’
a: beggars can't be choosers.
b: How old are you to me then?
a: 14. how old are you?
b: 15.
a: damn it, i thought i was going to be the older one here.
b: :)
they write back and forth, but burr never asks for his name, or any personal information he himself wouldn't be willing to give
a: where are you from?
b: New York, you?
a: wow. new york.
b: What about it?
a: it's... it's big. and expensive.
b: You're not wrong. Where are you from?
a: i'm on a little island called nevis.
b: I've... never heard of that.
a: not surprising. nobody has. it's fine, we get weird traders wondering what we're like and stuff.
b: Traders?
a: yeah.
b: So are you not from the America?
a: well, i'm going to be.
b: What do you mean?
a: i'm gonna get enough money soon to go to america. then i'm gonna be loud.
b: Loud?
a: yeah. i want to go to columbia.
b: That's the college I go to.
a: yeah? save me a seat.
and burr writes back, but alex doesnt respond
his left wrist aches for a moment, then his right, and he writes asking what his soulmate is doing and they respond:
writing. my left one got tired so i had to switch. sorry.
burr shakes his head and holds his aching wrists close to his chest, squeezing at his fingers and massaging his palms in hopes that it'll transfer over to his soulmate
a smiley face appears right below the space between his middle and pointer knuckle on his left hand
he and his soulmate don't write for a long while, because they're both busy, but burr awake to a similar burning sensation all over him
it's not as... intense as it was before. but it feels very, /very/ close.
the pain is stronger in some places, and burr is starting to catch view of some bruises
and burr writes
What's going on?
on alex's right arm
and he doesnt get a response
until about a year later, he's in class, and his head is knocked /back/
like he's been punched
he tastes blood, and he discreetly slides out of the lecture hall, and spits blood in the sink
his teeth are okay, just --
burr scribbles messily
What in the deep-fried hell was that?
there isn't a response
there are sharp, sharp lines along the insides of his wrist when he wakes up, and the cuts are decently deep
and burr writes between a few of them
What are these about?
he gets a
it's nothing important.
b: But it is important. You're my soulmate. I care about you.
a: is that all?
b: What do you mean?
a: is that the only reason you care about me? so that you're guaranteed a boyfriend straight out of college?
b: ...You're a man?
a: yeah? what's wrong with that?
b: I'm a man.
a: i don't see where you're drawing any connections here.
b: Look: stop this. Stop whatever these cuts are about.
a: why? it helps.
b: How does it help?
a: it's easier when it hurts physically. it’s easier to not feel guilty for not stopping something you have no control over. it’s easier to /have control./
b: But you're hurting /me./
a: fuck you.
and alex doesnt respond for months
the cuts keep happening, and they spread down his thighs
burr graduates in two years at the age of 17 from columbia university and he's rooming with jon bellamy from literature and, let's just say, they aren't really just friends
they're fuckbuddies, for a vulgar term, because jon's mouth feels a whole lot better than the rapidly appearing cuts down his body
one night, burr awakes because something is happening and his heart is already pounding but he cant will his body to move
it takes him a moment to realize that the sheets beneath his forearms are dark
and he tries to stand, but spins, and calls for jon, and jon helps him into the bathroom and his wrists are /bleeding/
jon calls 911 in a panic and burr can see another cut forming, but burr grabs a pen from off the nightstand, and writes in the space where the cut is threatening to run in
"wait"
the cut stops
and a few minutes pass and there's a small "why?" right next to what he just wrote
burr thinks for a moment, but the ambulance is here, and he writes quickly:
"I haven't heard you yet."
the cuts need a few stitches, but burr doesn't mind because that means his soulmate is okay, too
he's forced to stay in therapy for a few weeks and decides to stay, because this therapist sure does help him uncover some deep repressed issues
she even has a pretty name: theodosia.
burr has a petty crush over her, rubs the back of his neck and smiles all funny around her for a while
she smiles back, but leaves it at that - a smile
he wakes up and sees writing over the scars on his arms
i'm here!
b: Where are you?
a: columbia! i got in! i'm on campus!
b: Congratulations!
a: where are YOU?
b: I graduated?
a: but it's only been three or four years...
b: I graduated early. In two, actually.
a: i want to do that. how do i do that?
b: Well...
alex graduates in a year in a half.
and burr congratulates him on that
alex insists that he finally got to one up him
burr says he doesnt mind :)

ok im not done just tell me when ur done so i can continue if u like it