Unforgivable Sin @alphonse-bellard-blog - Tumblr Blog

tara-olsen‌:

She was stupid and she was weak. The last remaining bit of her rational mind screamed that at her because the phantom wasn’t vanquised, not really. The supernatural being was gone for now but it could return at any given moment. It could come back to feed on all of her energy, feast on yet another medium as those creatures did. But the girl still didn’t move, she just stayed curled up in herself and cried. Hell, she couldn’t even tell what had drained her more, the exertion from the magic she’d used or the horrible emotional turmoil that had finally broken her down. If she hadn’t been so deep in her own pain, so out of everything else going on around her, she would have been able to tell it was definitely the latter.

Her head hurt from crying so much and even breathing became harder, it felt like she was choking on her own sobs. She barely registered when Alphonse reached out to her. Her body was still shaking, tears still streaming down her face, and her trance-like state of aching isolation finally shattered as he pulled her up. She looked at him with confusion, her clouded mind recognizing again where she was and what had happened after shutting herself into her own emotional suffering. God, she felt so limp and weak. Even taking a step felt like a difficult feat. She was just so, so tired. She felt distant from her own self, heavier than ever before, like her body had somehow atrophied and couldn’t move on its own. It felt like some strange sickness had taken over her and Tara was sure she would stay in bed for days after this.

Everything happened in a daze. The professor got her out, somehow managing to get her feet to cooperate and move. She just wanted to close her eyes, she wanted to sleep on and on. God, why was she this tired? His voice brought her back when she pleaded for her to get onto his motorcycle and Tara just gave a light nod as a response. He had to help her get on. Al drove them out of that place and she was just dead weight leaning against his body for the whole of the ride. Her arms were limply wrapped around him. Her hold was so weak that one of Al’s hands locked around her wrists to make sure she wouldn’t let go and fall. He kept her steady and her eyes just closed.

When he finally managed to get her to his bike, Al fumbled with his coat, his own bones still weak and nimble after the emotional experience he and Tara had defeating that phantom. Hesitantly, he put it around Tara’s shoulders and even got her in it somehow, though it hadn’t been easy. She wasn’t quite responding to his movements, or the things he was handing to her. Next he put the helmut on top of her head and strapped it on. Thank God he’d been able to persuade her to get onto the bike, but her body was still so weak. He winced when her arms limply went around his torso, cuts stinging from any sort of contact or even just being exposed to the air. He was jacketless in the rain, and didn’t have a spare helmut for himself. Fuck, he better not crash this thing.

Carefully, Al held onto Tara’s arms that limply laid rested against his torso. Most of her weight was on his back as she slumped over, her body shivering slightly, he guessed from the cold. Even with his jacket over her body, it still had to be freezing with the wind blowing all around them and the rain drenching their clothes. Finally, by some God given fucking miracle, they made it back to her place. When he got off the bike, he was sure to hold onto Tara and helped her step down as he turned off his engine and set up the kick stand. They were already inside the building by the time he got the helmut and his jacket off of her, and he knew stairs weren’t an option for her right now. Fighting through the pain, Al lifted Tara and carried her up to her apartment the rest of the way. “Tara, the key,” he said once they finally made it upstairs, his back roughly falling into the adjacent wall. Surely she’d be getting some complaints from her neighbors later, but the exhaustion came over him all at once.

He was breathing heavily and not at all somehow, and it felt like the room around them was caving in. Al cursed under his breath as Tara finally managed to get the door open. When they took a view steps in, memories began to flood in like a tidal wave, and he felt like he might be sick. He coughed loudly and grasped the entry way as if he may fall over, because honestly, he might. As he gripped the door frame, Al lookeed at Tara and saw that she was nowhere near in a condition to process anything around her. Obviously saving his life had taken its toll on her, and he understood why, seeing as even he was surprised by her actions. I thought you hated me, he wanted to say, but didn’t, knowing it was a stupid and considerate thing to ask at a time like this. Slowly, Al took a deep breath and began to move into Tara’s apartment. First thing he grabbed was a towel from her bathroom, and he hated it to her, making sure she gripped it first before he went into her bedroom and get some things for her to change into. He placed those on the arm of her couch before he turned around and went to her.

In his hands was a jacket, a jacket he'd left there long before they’d actually broke up. Actually, he’d been looking for this days ago and thought he might have left it here. To his surprise, it was still here. Al sighed, looking at the jacket in his hands, and then back up at Tara. She’d kept it...what the fuck did that even mean? He’d seen more of his stuff in a box in her closet, why the fuck she’d put them there, he had no idea. In his mind, there’d been no chance of ever getting those back. So...he just left it there. He left the box there because it gave him hope, hope he didn’t deserve to have but still held onto because he loved her. God, he still fucking loved her because how could he not? She was everything to him...and he didn’t deserve it. Not in the slightest. “I’m gonna go. You...you have my number. I set some clothes down for you to wear over there, just...take care of yourself, okay?” What else was there left to say? He couldn’t stay, he could apologize again but to what avail? He killed Becca, there was no taking that back, Al knew it too. So, he picked up his helmut and the soaked jacket, and he turned to leave. As he made his way to the door, dripping wet, Al paused, looking back at her one last time. “Bye, Tara.” This time, he actually meant it. He didn’t know how he’d do it, but he’d do his best to stay away from her. Out of sight, out of mind. Because she didn’t need more moments like this where she broke down and couldn’t function because of it. He couldn’t let that happen...so he wouldn’t.

#convos #convo14: tara #//welp #everything hurts

tara-olsen‌:

Alphonse’s wound was healed and she couldn’t allow herself to consider whether or not doing that had been a mistake. Perhaps it had been and she would come regret it one day. Perhaps it was just further prove of the deeply fucked up person she’d become, saving twice the man who shattered her life. But her hands weren’t meant to kill, to let lives slip away. There was a time she thought she could have killed her sister’s killer, regardless of him having Al’s face or not. Maybe the one thing that wasn’t entirely broken and wrong about her was that certainty she’d found along the way since coming to this city. She didn’t end lives, she saved them. Tara Olsen knew she was no hero, she wasn’t one of the easily categorized ‘good guys’ of a story either, but she used her power, her magic, for something good. Saving Al’s life was an action tightly wrapped with layers upon layers of confusion and complexity her mind and heart could hardly process, but her magic had been used for good.

The phantom had to be defeated and her hazy mind in her tipsy state held on to that. The medium just that to cling to her purpose here before she fell apart completely. She didn’t look at the alchemist by her side, she just used her magic again against the shadow-cloaked figure. It was a whirlwind of power inside the pub. Light shot out of her hand as she screamed. Elements were alchemically controlled and transformed to attack their opponent. It tried to defend itself by hurling more glass and wood towards them, but in the end it vanished with a pained screech.

Tara’s hand lowered when it ended and she collapsed to the floor, stunned and tired. Little pieces of glass and wood were scattered around them like shrapnel. She’d been cut by some and she knew the professor had as well. He spoke and she saw the same on his face that was reflected in her own. Tears and blood and pain. It was excruciating to see him as a mirror of herself. “It’s gone” she confirmed, no longer sensing the presence of the phantom. When he spoke Tara just rolled her lips, trying to contain a sob and nodded, unable to speak as a sob shook her whole. It was time to go but she couldn’t find it in herself to get up. She just leaned back against the upturned table that provided cover earlier and buried her face between her hands, regardless of the cut in one of her palms and the blood-drawn circle in the other. All this time she had tried to keep it together, she had tried to keep some degree of composure even with the alcohol in her system. But that act could never last long because she was fully shattered, a living and breathing broken human that couldn’t hide her sharp edges for too long. Hell, she just wanted to disappear right now, all she wanted was for everything to disappear. She just wanted it all to stop.

The ghostly touch of her hand on his wound as she healed him sent shivers down his spine. The warmth he’d felt there...and the sheer pain...when she’d healed him, it was like for a moment they were somehow connected. Their hearts, their minds, their souls, everything about them had intertwined and meshed together, and as did the emotions that came with it. They’d withdrawn from each other probably for similar reasons as they both looked extremely shaken after the experience. Worst of all he was left with this empty feeling, and could still feel her palm against his chest. His skin ached for the warmth in a very selfish way. He even craved it at night sometimes when he thought about her for too long, or turned over in bed only to realize her spot was empty. His body just contantly ached, and in his mind were voices, voices he couldn’t shut up. Killer, they said. Murderer, they screamed. His heart, well that...that was unmendable. Al wasn’t sure there was anything left to give anyone else since he’d given it all and surrendered it completely to Tara.

His body shuddered and sunk into the wall behind him. The phantom was gone, yet the feelings remained. Al found himself unable to move for a minute, paralyzed by the raw emotions his body was experiencing. He’d never felt this much grief, not even when his mother has passed away. Why? Because when she died he’d barely known her, barely even heard her speak and most of his life was spent trying desperately to understand her. Why had he been born? Why had she let him live with such tainted blood, as the product of an assault? Perhaps it was in his nature to be inherently bad. That part of him he’d tried to cut out, the part of him that killed to get closer to his mother, that was his father. The part of him that hurt Tara and killed Becca, that was also his father. Al let out a nervous breath, tears staining his cheeks amongst the blood and dust covering his skin. He was sure he must look like a madman.

“Go.” He said again, though his words were labored and a bit breathy. Al didn’t feel like himself, he felt miles away from his body and yet when his eyes set on hers he could feel himself coming back. First his fingertips, then his arm, which made it’s way to the rest of his body and he was sitting up a bit, making his way towards her. Something in him just snapped back, like the Al that had been Tara’s boyfriend took over. When he went to her it was like he’d never told her of his crimes, of his sins. He couldn’t stand seeing her like this and still has movements were hesitant as he let his hand rest on the side of her neck. “Hey, hey, I’m sorry okay? I’m so sorry, Tara.” Al said again as one of his hands went to wrap around her waist to pull her up. This wasn’t him apologizing for what he’d done, because he knew there wasn’t enough words he could say to express just how sorry he was for that...but he was apologizing for what he was about to do. They had to get the hell out of here before that damn thing gained more energy and came back.

“Come on, we have to get out of here. We have to move. We have to.” He repeated again and again, more so for himself as his bones ached and screamed from underneath his skin as he practically carried her out to the parking lot towards his bike. “I’ll get you home, okay? I’ll get you home and away from you, alright, you never have to see me again after this okay? I’ll make sure of it, just please get on so I can take you home.” The man pleaded, hoping to fucking God she’d get on.

#convos #convo14: tara #//I think this has officially surpassed all feelsy things we have ever written and is the most feelsy thing ever

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tara-olsen

JAMES BLUNT - “ALWAYS HATE ME”

I never meant to hurt you It’s just something I do I guess it’s not a good excuse

And she will always hate me No matter what I say And there is no mistaking The love is gone

#Al's Playlist #otp: you tangle me up #//this is actually perfect for them rn but it also makes me sad...it totally is Al's perspective tho

tara-olsen‌:

The timing was just wrong for a phantom to attack on night when she was slightly less than drunk but definitely more than tipsy. It was also terrible timing that on the same night she would run into Alphonse Bellard of all people, but oh well, aparently her bad karma was just throwing one hit after the other. It wasn’t easy being in the same room as him because all her emotions just got more tangled up than they were and right now wasn’t the time for it. Tara sounded annoyed and resigned when she agreed to work through this with the professor, but the truth was that his alchemy actually was rather useful in keeping them protected.

“It won’t go away because I’m here” she snapped back. That thing wanted to feed on her energy, her life. Or it wanted to take hold of her, possess her. Tara wasn’t sure which was the phantom’s intention but the best way to find out was not finding out. “We have to tire it, make that thing use all of its energy”. Then it will vanish, right? That was what should happen but who knew how long that would take. Apparently that varied from phantom to phantom and the medium couldn’t really tell how powerful this particular foe was.

The dark figure was nowhere to be seen but the girl could clearly feel its presence. It was still in the pub. She looked around frantically, ignoring her growing headache, trying to hone her power to locate the creature. It came from nowhere, appearing from within the wooden boards that caused an explosion of splinters. She tried to cover herself with her arms as she crashed to the side. Streaks of red covered her arms from where the splinters cut like little knives. None got stuck into her skin, it didn’t feel like it at least. But she did hit her head against the floor, the ringing in her ears and the ache at the back of her skull were proof of that. She was distantly aware of Al’s voice but after a moment she was able to focus on him saying her name. Then her eyes were able to see the pool of blood around his arm.

Panic kicked in before she could snuff it out and decide whether or not he was worthy of her concern. The medium got to her knees and managed to get to his side. He’d done something to contain the bleeding for a while but he needed to be healed. She had the power to do that. She’d done it before. “Just- just hang on” she said, repeating the motions of the healing spell Richie had taught her. She started crying as she said the Spanish words of the spell. Anger, sadness and confusion taking form in the tears that ran down her cheeks. Somewhere in the Soulstream or the afterlife Becca surely hated her for this, for healing the man that had killed her. Tara hated herself for healing him and for knowing that she couldn’t have acted any other way. Did this mean she was the bigger person? Or just a fucked up little girl that wasn’t strong enough to hate a man she should have hated?

Light poured from her hands and in seconds Alphonse’s wound was healed. She pulled away without a word, just brushed her eyes with the back of her palms even though her sobs continued. Fucking hell, she needed to scream. She needed to break something. She was going to lose it at this rate. She glanced down at her palms, one with the nasty gash from where the glass cut it, the other a blank canvas for magic. Without wasting more time, she drew a circle and the array of symbols around and inside it. She rose her hand, ready to attack the phantom when it reappeared.

Tiring out the phantom didn’t seem all that simple considering it might take a while to tire it out, which meant tiring them out as well. Al’s powers were already weaker because he hadn’t practice alchemy in months. Who knew what alcohol could do to Tara’s abilities as a medium...with all of these handicaps in their way it seemed almost impossible to come out of this unscathed. Something was going to go horribly wrong. And then, it did.

The phantom disappeared again after it’d blown through the barrier Al had sculpted from the bar’s floor boards, and was no where in sight. Al laid practically writhing in pain from the splintered wood being lodged into his shoulder. It hurt like hell, and was almost worse than being shot. He shuddered as a wave of pain pulsed through him again and he winced rather than yelled, trying desperately to make his way over to Tara. It was bad, he knew it was bad because of the pain, but he felt there was also no sense in expecting the woman that hated him to heal him. She’d done it once without the knowledge that he’d killed her sister, and he was sure there was no way in hell she’d do it a second time knowing he did what he did all that time ago. Yet..

One of his hands came up as if to stop her once Tara finally slid over to the spot pooled with his own blood. Al’s head shook as she told him to hang on, his lips barely mumbling out the word ‘no,’ as she began to ritual to heal him. Then, there was the crying. Al’s heart twisted in knots and he felt sick, like he might vomit on the spot from the amount of pain he saw in her eyes. She hated him, she loved him still, he could see it there evident in her features as she healed him. Don’t, he wanted to say, leave me to die. Let me go, was his next thought, thinking that oblivion must be better than this, than watching the love of his life cry and hurt as much as she did. When he finally felt the pain subside, he slide away abruptly, as if he’d been attacked. His chest moved up and down quickly, and as he reached up to touch his cheeks, he felt a wetness there that wasn’t just blood. Mixed in the red hues were tears. When he’d began crying, he had no clue, but somewhere in between the healing process and now he had.

The next thing he knew, Tara was drawing yet more symbols, and then she stood ready for the next attack. Al stayed sitting, a little stunned from what had just transpired between them, his chest still moving up and down rather rapidly. He didn’t have much time to think when the phantom reappeared, and rather than see it he could just feel its presense there. The glow that had once come from Tara’s hand erupted again as she aimed it at the phantom, hitting it dead on. It’s dark, smoke-like form began to writhe and screech as wood and glass began to rise around them. The items began to sweep up into a tornado-like formation, shards of glass cutting at their skin and wood scratching at their clothes. Though he was weak, Al put both of his palms up and he got up to his feet, struggling through the tornado-like destruction to create a sort of barrier between the chaos and him and Tara. He used the wind from outside coming in through the windows to blow the material back. A scream erupted from his lips as he used the last of his energy and strength to shove glass, wood and other debris out the windows and away from them. The glow from Tara’s palm persisted, as did the wind from Al’s when finally, everything fell silent.

Somehow, the phantom had worn itself down and disappeared with one last yell in pain. The debris that had been whipping around them fell, and most of it had gone out the windows onto the street due to Al’s alchemy. His body gave out soon after as he fell to his knees, breathing heavily, and tasted blood on his lips. Sweat dripped down his brow, and the sheer exhaustion of it all took over as his hands fell out in front of him but could barely hold him up. “Is it gone?” He managed to ask, his eyes barely looking up to meet Tara’s as he finally laid his back up against a stable wall. They needed to get out of there now before it decided to come back, but he felt his legs may give out if he tried to stand. “You need to get out of here before it comes back.” Hopefully he had some time to at least gain a sliver of energy back so he could ride his bike home. Right now, though, that seemed unlikely.

#convos #convo14: tara #//damn this is HARD :(

tara-olsen‌:

Tara went ahead to roll her eyes at his response, finding it very annoying that he would get technical over something like a rune. The fact was that he wasn’t a medium. End of story. If she already seemed annoyed, his next comment effectively made that be more apparent on her expression. “Yeah, well, that tends to happen with alcoholics, we get wasted” the girl spat out every word bitterly without breaking eye contact. She already drank a bit more than usual when the two of them met, but the truth was, her drinking had never been that bad when they were together. In fact, it eventually stopped being an issue because Tara actually found she could live with herself during the time of their relationship. She wasn’t so haunted by the accident, the thirst for revenge on Becca’s murderer began to subside and for the first time in a while she felt home. Now it just made her stomach churn to think all that happiness she’d finally had in her life had been with the very man who shattered her life to begin with. Fuck the web of lies he’d used to get her!

The girl wanted to do something, shout at him, slap him. She wanted to let her rage and sadness and even the guilt of having loved him so deeply come clashing down on him. But she didn’t move. She just stared him down with cold hatred in her eyes even though there was a goddamn fire inside her. To hell with everything, she’d down at least two more shots when she got home after this bullshit of a night. “Fine” she said through gritted teeth, accepting that yes, for now they were stuck with each other.

“I can’t send that thing away, mediums can’t do that” she stated like it was an obvious thing, common knowledge for all. Man, she was beginning to sound like Richie. As she spoke as a hand moved to her head, the shots she’d downed minutes ago beginning to make her feel a bit light-headed. “Best bet is to let it dry out of energy and it should fade on its own. So the plan is there’s no plan, just use all your fucked up magic on it and then we can just forget tonight happened, okay?”. And with that, she pressed her hand hard against the blood-drawn circle over the table and aimed for the phantom once more. But somehow in the middle of her spell the shadowy thing managed to vanish from where it had been, as if it teleported away. “Shit” she growled, turning to look for it the damn phantom. It would reappear soon, she could feel its essence still lingering around.

When they first met, Tara’s drinking had been slightly out of hand, sure, but this...he’d never seen it this bad before. In the months leading up to their falling out when they were together, her drinking was almost non existent. Sure, they’d both have a couple beers at dinner time, maybe some in the afteroon as well, but that had been the only time he hadn’t seen Tara wasted. What he’d done to her, the lying, the deciet...killing the only person she had left in her life, it was unexcuseable. It was unforgivable. Alphonse knew there was nothing he could do to mend what they had, and he couldn’t change the horrible things he had done. But he could honor Becca and maybe even Tara by making sure she didn’t kill herself taking on this phantom. That was the thought that kept him here now, with her, even though the gilt was practically eating him alive.

So, to the best of his abilities, Al ignored her commented and pushed through it. He kept the voices in his head at bay, and the guilt rising in his chest faltered a bit knowing he had to give it his all right now so that phantom couldn’t get to her. Behind her glazed, drunken stare, he could see the anger behind it. Her rage continued to fuel his guilt, his self hatred, and definitely made him want to drink. “Fine,” he said back with a light nod, turning his attention back towards where he’d spotted the phantom last. Somewhere between fighting with Tara, putting up the barrier, and getting bottles thrown at them every which way, it’d moved. His eyes scanned the room and saw a flash of black smoke-like movements coming from the corner of the bar. Obviously it was trying to plan an attack, and probably a way to get to Tara.

“I know that, we just need to take it out long enough to get it the hell away from here.” He knew more about mediums than he’d first let on, obivously, and he’d even read about them in some of the books he’d picked up from Oliver. What he didn’t know much about, was the people who called themselves ‘Tuners.’ He knew of them, but not much about them other than the fact that they were the ones that could sent phantoms back to the stream. Again, he’d never actually met one, so he wouldn’t really know. Al snorted a little when Tara rattled off her plan, looking down for a moment beforehe shrugged his shoulders. “Sounds perfectly fine to me.” Yeah, let me just used my fucked up magic, that’s great. Alchemy wasn’t fucked up, he was fucked up, and there was a difference. With all the force he could muster, Al began to put up another layer of boards around them, wood ripping from the ground once his illuminated palm pressed against it. Tara went in for another spell using the blood circle she’d drawn, but his attention turned to her when she cursed.

“Wh-” The boards that had made a way blocking them from the phantom suddenly ripped in two. Somehow, much to Al’s surprise, the phantom has ripped through them, causing several splintered pieces of wood to fly up all around them. “Tara!” He yelled, just before the phantom’s body crashed into his. Al found his body being pushed against the closest wall, with his back smashing against the wooden surface. His head hit the back of the wall hard, and he felt a bit dizzy when he finally sunk back to the ground, his body going a bit limp. “Fuck,” he breathed out, wincing when he shifted, only to feel something had lodged itself into his left shoulder. He was almost certain it was a splintered piece of wood, and sure enough when he looked, it was just that. “Tara, fuck...” He said weakly, desperately trying to move forward so he could get to her. With a quick flick of his wrist, his rune lit up and the piece of wood lodged into his shoulder was ripped out. Through gritted teeth, he fused a nearby rag to his shoulder to keep the wound from bleeding out.

#convos #convo14: tara #//we'll pretend that's Al but also like damn how do I not have gifs of him hurt?!!

tara-olsen‌:

Her medium powers had gotten better with time, mostly due to the fact that Richie was a decent enough sensei in this whole magic thing. But also because being in Port Ashborne meant she could stretch that medium muscle often given the recurrence of weird shit happening due to supernatural reasons. A year ago she would have only faintly seen the phantom. Right now she could see the shifting, dark figure clearly. Or as clearly as her slightly-tipsy, possibly-a-little-drunk-already state could allow her. Not even the creepy looking specter was enough to sober her up in spite of the uneasy sensation she got just to look at the ugly fucker.

Regular people couldn’t see it, obviously, but could at least have a slight amount of common sense to tell them there was something weird going on. When Alphonse shouted for them to go, half of the patrons listened and the other half looked at him like he was insane. “There’s a gas leak in the kitchen, people! Get moving!” she shouted as she got up from her seat. If a supernatural force didn’t make them leave, at least a ‘normal’ explanation to evacuate could get them up their asses. Now Nathan was the one looking at her like she was the crazy one. “Erin, what the hell are you doing?” he asked, visibly uncomfortable. Ah, Erin. That was the fake name she’d given to this moron. She’d actually forgotten already which one she’d used this time. “Date’s over” she told him curtly, without even a hint of her previous charming smiles or the caresses. A phantom was a good enough excuse to drop the act, after all. And now she had to deal with that shit instead of dealing with some idiot she wasn’t even going to give her number to. She heard Alphonse speak to her but she didn’t turn to him, she was focusing on dismissing the guy she’d come here with. Nathan just shook his head, very much aware that he’d just been used and walked out of the pub muttering the word ‘Bitch’ as he turned around. “Right back at you” the girl said with a salute and a toxic smirk, a faint slur appearing in her words.

Bottles began to fly across the place and she ducked as quickly as she could, taking cover by the side of the table. When she got up Al’s eyes had turned to her and she had to steady herself not so much because her head was spinning, or because a damn supernatural entity was throwing shit around a pub, but because those damn eyes were locked on her for a moment and because these were the first words they exchanged after… well, after that. “No. You don’t get to tell me what to do” she stated as she rose an accusatory finger towards him. She spoke in such a stubborn way that might have sounded a bit childish but the way her expression turned to stone was evidence that in spite of all the alcohol she had consumed already, she was angry. She was fucking pissed off and she was doing her damnedest to contain that. “You’re not a medium, you can’t even see that thing properly, let alone fight it” she added in a condescending tone as she took one her shot glasses and smashed it against the table “I’m the one that should be here, not you- you’re just an… alchemist”. Some shards of glass cut her hand, which had been what she was aiming for. Using some drops of her own blood she drew a circle on the table and some of the symbols Richie had taught her, surprising even herself a little that she could actually complete the magical array almost mechanically, moving quickly and with precision. Well, her precision was better when she was sober but practicing with sensei Vásquez had really paid off. One hand was pressed to the magical circle and the other was aimed at the phantom, letting a beam of warm, gold light out of her palm and towards the specter. It shrieked again through the ray of light she could see it was almost burning. Finally her hand dropped. The phantom was still there, cowering, flickering in its own darkness. Her magic didn’t end it, but it seemed to at least have weakened it.

The sad truth was that Al knew he could never take on this phantom by himself. He couldn’t even see the damn thing properly, and when he could it was mere flashes brough on by his rune. Not only that, his alchemy was rusty as hell since he’d barely used it in the last six months, and he’d already began growing weaker because of it. But Alphose didn’t seem to fucking care about any of that, as he sat facing Tara, eyes set on her with a hardened expression. Just fucking leave, goddammit, he’d wanted to shout, but held back. Of course Tara didn’t waste any time drunkenly telling the guy to fuck off in the nicest way she knew how, and she’d even gave Al a piece of her mind too. He’d expected that, all the anger and the condesension. In fact, there was only one person that could make him feel worse about himself that wasn’t Tara, and that was him. Al hated himself. At least when he’d visited his Uncle, the man had helped him rebuild some of that confidence and come to terms with what he’d done.

Slowly but surely, Al had begun to forgive himself for his mistakes, but deep down, he kenw he could never fixed them in the way that he wanted. Tara and Becca of course, were his biggest regrets. And now it was obvious to him, as Tara began to spread blood against the table’s wooden surface, that they would have to work together. Again. “I’ve got a rune that can help me see flashes of the fucker, so I’d only say that’s about half accurate.” The professor stated calmly and with ease as he grabbed a cloth nearby, ripped it, and tied it around his arm wound. “You’re also intoxicated, and though I’m sure you can handle this on your own,” there was evident sarcasm in his voice, and an edge he’d never quite had before when speaking to Tara; “I think I’d rather stay.” Just alchemy or not, Al would be more useful to Tara here than anywhere else.

As she worked her magic with the blood circle she’d created, Al took that opportunity to use is elemental magic, specifically his solid manipulation, otherwise known as his earth rune. With his palms pressed against the ground beneath them, wooden floor boards began lifting themselves up and off of the ground, creating a barrier between them and the phantom. He left a small window of room so Tara’s magic could be directed at the phantom, and though he couldn’t see it, he could hear it’s angry, weakened screams from across the room. Shards of glass began propelling themselves into the boarded up wall between them, several shards escaping through the small window he’d left open, narrowly missing Tara from where she stood. The wall he’d created wouldn’t hold long, and it certainly wouldn’t hold the phantom back as it advanced forward. At least for now it was wekeaned by Tara’s magic. “You’re stuck with me, I’m stuck with you. So tell me what we should do here since you’re the one who can see the damn thing.” That was that. There was a firmness in his voice that said, ‘I’m not budging on this so deal with it.’ Whether they liked it or not, Al still cared about the drunken medium standing to his left.

#convos #convo14: tara #//don't even be sorry both of our writing involves rambling and long ass paragraphs xD

tara-olsen‌:

Her date returned with some shots and Tara had already downed one before Nathan even settled on his chair before her. The guy widened his eyes and she ignored his surprise, or judgment, or whatever the hell that look was supposed to be. She was here for the drinks, not for him. Not for any of the distractions she’d been dating for the past months just to keep her mind as far away as possible from… “Bottoms up” she said, downing her second shot as her eyes briefly turned to Al. From him. The alcohol burned her throat in such a pleasantly familiar way and she welcomed the feeling, grateful that in a few hours -maybe even in a few minutes- she would begin forgetting that she ever saw Alphonse tonight.

Out of the corner of her eye she watched him pass by where her and Nathan were sitting. Her eyes involuntarily followed him and he ignored her, of course. He didn’t do anything to acknowledge her presence when she walked in and he wasn’t doing anything to acknowledge it as he walked out. Tara just reached for Nathan’s untouched, second shot and grabbed it. “Hey, that was-” he began to protest, but the girl had already downed it as fast as she did the first two. “Too slow” she said with a charming smile. Someone who knew her better would detect the cracks in it, the bitterness and the deep-rooted sadness that her mask of a smile tried to cover. But of course, someone like Nathan would never see past it. No one would. Only one man had been able to see past those lies she wore in her expressions and he was a man she never wanted to see again, or think about, or have this tangled mess of feelings for… It just hurt. It still hurt too much.

Tara glanced up when a strange feeling went through her only to find Alphonse hadn’t walked out of the pub. He standing by the door. The weird sensation stayed with the alcohol beginning to mess with her head she knew she couldn’t possibly be that drunk yet. This didn’t feel good, it didn’t feel like warm oblivion. It felt cold, to damn cold she actually shuddered. She followed the professor’s line of sight when he looked to another side of the bar. Her eyes widened at the sight of an inhuman figure taking form there. “Oh shit”.

Al’s hand stayed on the door nob as if it were frozen on there, his feet moving slightly so he had a better stance. Though he couldn’t directly see the phantom, merely sense it, the rune he had on the bottom of his wrist pulsed. He’d put it there years ago to sense danger, specifically phantoms. This allowed him to see the figure move, somewhat, in a blurry haze as if he were looking at a person while blackout drunk. As the phantom took a step forward, so did Al, his body moving to block it’s obvious path towards Tara. She was a medium after all, it would want her.

The was when the phantom let out a blood curling screech, enough to render anyone close by deaf, though Al was quick to move and start shoving people towards the exit. “Get outta here, go!” Apparently the phantom’s loud warning was enough to spook most of the patron’s to the front door. Some looked confused and disoriented, but ultimately began following suit once glass bottles began shattering. Somehow in between Al’s attempt to get innocent people out of the bar and the screech, the phantom has phased behind the bar and proceeded to throw various bottles in his, and other people’s direction. One was aimed at the back of some man’s head, which Al promptly blocked with his arm. The bottle shattered against his flesh, making him wince a little, though it could have been worse.

He ducked when another bottle came flying at his own head, and he turned to face Tara, his eyes wide. “Get out of here.” It was the first time he’d actually addressed her all evening. Obviously he’d seen her there the whole time, but this was the first he was acknowledging it. “Tara go, get him and yourself out of here.” Al said again, this time with more force as he sent several floor boards flying towards the phantom. It screeched again, making Al’s hair stand on end. The noise was worse than anything he’d ever hard before, and it’d been a while since he’d gone up against one of these bastards. He usually tried to avoid them, as he couldn’t really see them like a medium could.

#convos #convo14: tara

tara-olsen‌:

“Are you fucking kidding me?” the words escaped her before she could even think to stop herself. Tara knew that it was a matter of time before she ran into Alphonse. She’d been lucky enough for quite some time, never seeing him in those places that were familiar for both. Restaurants. The library at Port Ashborne’s university. Admittedly, she had avoided some of those places for a while, but even after she dared to return to them she had not seen the professor there. With some degree of relief she even considered that perhaps he’d done both a favor left town. The girl never allowed her mind to wonder too long about him, to think of questions about him she no longer had a way of answering. But no. Alphonse Fucking Bellard was sitting just a few meters away from where she stood at the entrance of the pub.

She saw him and she could have sworn he saw her too. But of course he turned his head away like a fucking coward. For a moment there, Tara also wanted to be a fucking coward and just turn around to leave. “What is it, babe?” her date asked, his steady hand wrapped around her waist. For many days she’d felt broken -and some days she still felt too damn broken- but at least today she was feeling pissed off. Fuck being a coward, she thought. I’ve always been better at being petty. “Nothing. Some guy kinda looked like my fucking ex but thank God it’s not him” she said with a chuckle, turning around to slide her arms around the guy’s neck. This one was Nathan, right? Without hesitation she pressed a kiss to the guy’s lips, pleasantly surprising him. “Come on, I think we can sit here” the girl said as she stepped back to an empty table, sitting down and smiling to her date. Just for a moment her eyes shifted to Al’s direction and she rose her chin a little. That’s right, asshole, I’m staying in your line of sight. “I’ll get us some drinks” Nathan said before leaning down to give her a quick peck on the lips. She smiled again, not for the kiss, but because she needed the damn alcohol. She’d already had a couple of beers at her place but tonight she’d definitely need a little something extra.

Al put the beer to his lips, letting the glass rim sit on his lower lip for a moment as he listened to the not-so-quiet conversation Tara was having with her...date. The word babe was what made him drink, the grip on his beer tightening more. Any tighter and the bottle might shatter. Of course Tara would stand her ground, she wasn’t the type to run away from a fight. Not that this was a fight, per say, but it could very easily turn into an altercation if Al allowed it to. Unfortunately, his head tilted to the side just in time to see Tara kiss the guy; that really got his blood boiling. So, she was gonna play it like that? Great, very mature. He should have figured it would be this way, though, considering he’d singlehandedly shattered her entire world. That was what really tightened his grip. The thought of Becca always had.

Al cleared his throat and let his eyes settle on a bottle of tequlia behind the bartender, yet still out of the corner of his eye he could see Tara and her date sit down in his line of sight. Probably her plan, and for course she went ahead and kissed him again, why not? The professor chuckled and finished off his beer, throwing a couple bills down as he grabbed his jacket to leave. “Thanks, Ed.” He nodded to the bartender, who nodded back. This was a bar he frequented often, but now that Tara had made an appearance, he probably wouldn’t be back for a while. As he got his coat on, Al didn’t even give one look in Tara’s direction as he passed by, looking forward, stoic as ever. This was how he’d play the game, not like Tara, not with a woman around his arm. He didn’t want anyone else. All he wanted was her, and he knew he couldn’t have her, so...what was the point?

As his palm pressed on the front door, a slight chill went down his spine. The temperature dropped just a little, making him pause. There was a slight howl that could have been mistaken for wind, but he thought otherwise. If anyone else knew what the familiar sension was, it would be Tara, and that sent another shiver down his spine. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, turning around slowly as a shadowy-like figure appeared towards the other end of the bar. His eyes moved to Tara, who was still seated with her...date. Again, he had to keep from rolling his eyes.

#convos #convo14: tara

@gil-reyes-hernandez

Three months he’d been gone and in Seattle, but what he should have expected when he got back was not at all what he’d expected. Gil, who had made himself more than comfortable on Al’s couch, was sprawled out with pizza in his hands, watching tv. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Al thought, rolling his eyes as he threw his bag into the room adjacent from the kitchen. Luckily it didn’t look like Gil went through anything in there, which was his fucking room, but he’d have to do a once over later just to make sure. “Hey asshole. You get pineapple on this one? I’m starving.” Reacting negatively to Gil would just fuel his bullshit. Al figured if he didn’t give him the satisfaction, maybe he’d stop breaking into his fucking apartment. Who knows how long he’d been ‘house sitting’ while he was away.

#convos #convo06: gil #//lol figured these two could talk xD

@tara-olsen

It had been months since he’d last seen Tara, but only about two minutes since he’d last thought about her. Rarely did he think about anything else, and it had been hard enough trying to forgive himself for the heinous acts he’d excuted in his days using alchemy. It had been exactly three months since he’d last used his powers; the last time being when he’s gone into a burning building to save his girlfriend- ex-girlfriend. God. It was still strange to say. Some days she felt like a ghost, others he could see her so clearly that he thought she’d been sitting right beside him all along.

He’d nursing a beer at a local pub for about an hour when he saw her, clear as day, as if she were right in front of him. She came through the doors with a pair of darkly rimmed sunglasses that she placed on top of her head, and a sexy dress that made him weak. Shit, he’d seen her wear that dress before, in fact, it was his favorite. The way it hugged her body always made him stare, but today, it made him want to look away. It wasn’t real, it’s all in your head. But, like always, Al couldn’t resist. He looked her way again, this time finding that a man had walked in behind her, slinging his arm around her waist. The grip Al had on his beer tightened. This wasn’t his imagination. Tara confirmed that moments later as the words, ‘are you fucking kidding me,’ fell from her lips. Shit...Shit. Al turned away and pretended he didn’t see her, taking a sip of his beer while his head hung low.

#convos #convo14: tara #//sorry this took so long honey bear!

tara-olsen‌:

Her face was buried between her hands as she continued to cry. She wanted to stop, she wanted to get up and leave, she wanted to yell at the top of her lungs… but her body wasn’t responding. After a while, God knows how long, breathing didn’t feel as difficult as it had been when the pain started. Her body still shook with her quiet sobs and she felt like such a fragile, lonely creature sitting there in Al’s couch.

Her head hurt from all the crying, her nose felt congested and her eyes ached for being so swollen. She never reached a point of composure or the easy detachment that had once been characteristic of her, but the girl managed to calm even a bit in spite of the tears still running down her cheeks. Her hands dropped to her lap and she finally dared to look at Alphonse. She’d just said she loved him for the first time tonight and now her whole world had been shattered with his confession and she didn’t even know if her words still had any validity after that. Did her feelings change after his horrifying truth? She didn’t want to think about that. She didn’t want to think at all. She wanted to be able to say every terrible thing she ever thought about the man responsible for Becca’s death but when her lips parted, none of those hateful words came out. “I- I have to go” was all she could muster.

Tara’s expression contorted as another wave of hurt washed over her and she could feel the next stream of tears forming in her eyes. She just wanted this fucking nightmare to be over, she just wanted to wake up to a less brutal reality, but she was painfully aware that this was her reality and her reality had never been too kind for her for too long. Everything always broke in the end. “Goodbye, Alphonse” the girl spoke with an air of finality as she got up, keeping her eyes on him for a moment before she turned around to leave.

A great deal have time had passed where both of them seemed to be in a great deal of pain, though never of them said a thing. Al’s apologizes were met with silence, which he’d half expected, but a greater part of him had expected an explosion. This reaction was much, much worse. When she finally did look at him, like...actually look at him, his heart broke all over again. His lips parted and a pained breath of air escaped his lungs as she finally spoke, her words without anger but instead a sort of weakness he’d never seen from Tara before. Truly, Alphonse believed he had broken this woman before him. This strong, maginficently beautiful woman that he loved...God, he had broken her.

He didn’t even move from his spot in the kitchen when she stood up, her words hanging in the air with a sense of finality to them. His heart hurt, it felt like someone had ripped it out, broken it, and attempted to put it back together again before shoving it back into his chest. Somehow, he managed to speak as well, though his mouth felt dry and useless. “Goodbye, Tara.” Al said back, his eyes daring to watch her leave. As soon as the door shut behind her, he sunk to the floor with his head in his hands. What had he done? God, what the fuck had he done?

#convos #convo13: tara #//goddammit #our ship is fucking sunk...

tara-olsen‌:

There was a small glimmer of hope when he replied. That had to be enough, right? That both of them wanted to fix things, that they wanted things to be better between them. But that hope was soon darkened when he continued to speak, when he said she would hate him, when he moved away from her. The girl couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was something wrong, truly wrong, that Alphonse knew and she didn’t.

If only she hadn’t known. If only she’d stayed ignorant of that hidden truth. The second he spoke of Becca she understood and her eyes stayed on him with open horror and confusion. No, no, no. That couldn’t be the truth. He couldn’t be the person responsible for her sister’s death. Her sister’s murder. A hand went to her mouth as a sob escaped her and the girl curled on herself, feeling like it was getting harder to breathe.

Her eyes shut thightly, as she willed for her reality to vanish. She just wanted everything to go away and stop existing, because this moment, this very real moment was tearing her apart. God, it felt like the moment she learned six months late that her sister had died. It felt like waking up in that hospital again only to learn she’d been out for half a year and that her sister was long gone when it felt like she had just lost her. That all felt like some twisted game fate played on her, and learning the man she’d fallen in love with was none other than her sister’s killer was the cruelest joke of life so far.

He desperately wanted to do something to help her through this, anything, but he knew anything that he’d want or would do, Tara would immediately rebuff. There was no way for him to fix this, no way for him to take back the horrible, treacherous things he’d done to her so all he could do was sit and witness her pain. The tears that filled his eyes multiplied as he nearly leaned forward towards her but stopped himself, getting up so he could walk across the room. He paced while the love of his life sobbed, the noises paining him so deeply that his breathing became restricted deep within his chest. His motions almost became manic as he bumped into chair, knocked over random items in his apartment. One of his hands beat itself into the wooden countertop, leaving his knuckles red with blood as her sobs could still be heard over his frantic movements.

‘You piece of shit, you asshole. Why are you even alive? Did you think you could really have her? Did you think you could truly have happiness, and with her?’ Al wanted Tara to leave. At this point, he craved for the door to slam, for her to yell and curse at him and perhaps throw various items in his direction. Nothing compared to the pain he felt right now hearing her cry and knowing he was the one who had caused her so much hurt. Knowing that there was nothing he could do to help her, to console her, fuck- he couldn’t even touch her and it killed him. “Tara, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I...” What else could he say? Waht else could he possibly have to say after the bomb he’d just dropped on her?

#convos #convo13: tara #//ignore gif text #and my sobs

tara-olsen‌:

“But do you want to?” she asked, beginning to fear that perhaps their relationship was coming to an end. Tara wanted to fix things but it wasn’t enough if she wanted that on her own. Together they could find a way. But that was the thing: it was something they would do together, not if only one of them was willing on salvaging their relationship. The girl looked at her boyfriend with a light frown, confused at he drew his hand away from hers. She didn’t try to take hold of it again but she leaned close to look at him dead in the eyes when she said “Yes. I’m going to hate you at times…”. And there it was, a gleam of something sweet and softer in Tara’s eyes that didn’t appear too often. “But I’m also going to love you. I already do, you idiot. And if you really love me too then we’ll fix this. We’ll find a way, even if we don’t know right now what that is”.

The two of them sank in silence for a while, only looking at each other. There was so much emotional weight to tha moment even if they weren’t even speaking. Tara never felt her soul be as bare as it was with him in that moment, letting all her vulnerability flourish with his in that moment. She wanted to cry and didn’t even know why, her emotions were just rising to her skin and the girl felt like she would shatter if someone were to touch her. But when Al did, when kissed her, she didn’t break, she didn’t fall apart. She just kissed back the man she loved, fingers going through his hair while her other hand grabbed tightly at the fabric of his shirt against his back. God, he kissed her like this was a first kiss he’d been yearning for a long time or a last kiss that he didn’t want to ever forget. Tara couldn’t help but detect the bittersweet note in it in the midst of all the passion and gentleness of that single kiss.

Then Alphonse began to speak of a woman and from his first words she could already tell the story didn’t end well, and that it just hurt him so much that it didn’t. Her hand moved up to rest against his cheek as he spoke, moving a bit closer to him as he told her that story. Tara listened and empathized for his loss because she knew that story surely ended in loss. At one point she became aware of the fact that there were tears running down her cheeks. She wasn’t even sure at what point she’d begun crying. She cried for him but she also cried for her sister. His tale inevitably reminded her of Becca. Every news of car accidents that turned up on the news online reminded her of Becca. Every crash, however small or big, that she’d seen in Port Ashborne reminded her of Becca. Every damn scene involving accidents and cars in movies and TV shows reminded her of Becca. So many things reminded her of her sister almost on a daily basis, and Al’s tale was no different because she found an eerie affinity to it with her own story and her sister’s. “Hey…” she said quietly, feeling a knot in her throat. God, the courage it must have taken to be able to tell this story to someone, and the pain it clearly caused him was tugging at her every heartstring. “The man that did that is not the same man sitting here with me” she said in a low tone. Tara wasn’t going to justify or condemn his actions, she wasn’t going to pretend to be some morally just person that could judge his actions because she wasn’t. All she could say was what she saw now and that was a broken man consumed by the guilt of past mistakes. Alphonse Bellard, her Al, was a different man now than he’d been when that chapter of his life played out.

Al nodded almost immediately after Tara spoke, his hand instinctively squeezing hers. “Of course I do. Of course.” He didn’t want to take his hand away, in fact it pained him to do so, but he couldn’t hold her the way he used to knowing that he’d been lying to the woman he loved this whole time. Every day he had begun to eat away at him and then today…well, today she saw a glimpse of the man he once was. The man that used alchemy to his advantage, the man that lied and cheated his way out of horrible situations. It was the kind of man he never wanted to be, but had become. And it was that very man he’d left behind the moment he’d begun a relationship with Tara. But now, now his lies were catching up with him. It was only a matter of time. Her confession of love didn’t go unnoticed, if anything, it made him want to keep on lying to keep the love that they had. Their love was what kept Al going now, not the alchemy, not the constant need for a connection with his mother or the debt he thought he owed her, and the world. It was Tara, and perhaps it was always meant to be Tara. Al smiled gently before he spoke; wishing her words could be true. “I want that. You don’t even know how much I want this, how much I want you but I…I can’t. I can’t because you’ll hate me. You’ll hate me so much that you won’t love me anymore.” The truth of his next words would kill her, he knew it.

This wasn’t fair. In no way was it fair, and he knew it was the universe’s way of punishing him. Selfish, resentful, liar, murder…they were all words that described Al that he’d been running from for so long now that he couldn’t run from them any longer. If he were to ever make peace with the things he’d done, the first step was to stop lying. But in order to do that, he’d have to lose his whole world. He tried to think of the bright side of this, the end result. At least now Tara could have an ending to the awful story that had shaped her life for so long now. At least now she’d have answers, and a face to match the villain in her story. And it pained him that that face had to be his.

Somehow they’d both begun to cry, but for different reasons. Tara, who had no yet discovered his deception, cried for his pain and he cried for the pain she would feel once she knew of what he’d done. They cried for each other, but only one knew the truth. Al bowed his head and silently hated himself for not saying her name, Becca, the innocent he had mercilessly killed. He’d even tried to kill Tara too, though he’d stopped himself before he finished the job. God…if only he’d known then what he knew now. The hand that rested on his face felt out of place, like it shouldn’t be there because honestly, it shouldn’t be. Tara was supposed to scream, yell and push him away. She was supposed to grab his knives or various other objects and throw them at him, maybe even possibly try to kill him for what he’d done. But she did none of these things. Al looked up when she spoke, confusion filling his features as she continued to console him. His hand came up in the space between them and he moved away, tears still falling down his cheeks. “Tara please stop. You don’t know…you have no idea who I am. The man that I am now…the man I am with you is not who I was, but I- I need to start telling the truth. You, need to know the truth.” He said with a shaky breath, knowing exactly what he had to do now. She’d never believe that it was him on her own, connecting the dots would take more time if he wanted her to know the truth. Say it, the voice in his head sneered, say her name.

“Your sister…was very special, Tara. The way that she died…it should have never happened. I should have never- I never should have let myself get close to her, or to you now. I didn’t know that you…Tara I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He kept repeating the words again and again, but he knew it would make no difference. She would know now of what he did, that her sister died because of him, he was to blame. Now, she would hate him. Her love would be gone, and he would be left with a hole of where it once was.

#convos #convo13: tara #//I was so not ready jesus

tara-olsen‌:

Tara didn’t have a right word to describe the heaviness that seemed to have settled between them. It changed things into something she absolutely hated. They didn’t look at one another in that loving or playful way that was so characteristic of them. They didn’t touch in the familiar and effortless way that was so natural for both. In fact, they didn’t touch at all. She obviously noticed the way Al nearly caressed her cheek but backed away at the last second. It just hurt. It hurt to feel betrayed and it hurt to see him so consumed by guilt and something else she had never been able to understand fully about Alphonse. But she wanted to. Tara wanted to continue understanding him, everything there was to know about this man. It would have been so easy to just get up and break things off with him. Tara Olsen was an expert at that, walking away when things got a little too complicated and when her heart was at risk of even a little suffering. She would always regret walking away from this if she dared to leave this all behind, she knew that she would.

Maybe it was a sign of weakness, the not wanting to give up what she had with Al. Or maybe it was a sign of growth and resilience, of learning there were some good things in life that were worth fighting for and worth fixing when they got messed up. “Okay, you fucked up” the girl said with a nod, keeping her eyes on his. Part of him wanted to shout at him but she could see there had been no malice behind his actions. His secrecy, his lack of trust, he’d had his reasons and none of them were with the deliberate intention to hurt her. He’d fucked up, just as he said. And frankly, who was she to condemn him for a mistake? “Where do we go from here? How do we fix it?”. With those words, for the first time, she infused some of that gentler side to her with an intimate tone that she had only ever used with him.

Al’s hand finally came to rest against her cheek and Tara didn’t rebuff his touch. Then, in the most inevitable and honest way, he said he was in love with her. There was a time when those words would have made her run away and that time hadn’t even been too long ago. But now, hearing him say that only confirmed that her decision to stick by him, to keep working on their relationship, was the right decision. His love confession was followed by a confession of murder. For a moment her thoughts went back to Jimmy and what happened at the liquor store. The professor did have a reason to go after a man like that, and honestly, she might have gone for that scumbag herself if she had the powers for it. But Al spoke of some that might not have been bad people and his expression as he said it broke her heart. Her own hand came to rest on top of his and she turned her face lightly to the side, kissing his palm. Taking hold of his hand she lowered it to her lap, where both of hands wrapped around it. “Tell me about it” she said in a low tone, giving his hand a comforting squeeze “You can talk to me about it”.

It felt like the second biggest, sick joke of his life was falling in love with Tara Olsen. Things would have been so much easier if he’d stayed away from her or she hadn’t given into his advances. Why the fuck had he kissed her that night, soaking wet from the rain? He’d been leaving her apartment when he went back up to kiss her, so why’d he gone back? He knew why, it was just hard to admit it, even in his own thoughts. You were fucking done for the moment she walked into your office and asked for your help. Al didn’t have the answers. He’d never had the answers to anything his entire life, not until he’d searched for them. Even then the answers to his questions seemed to poison him, and he wondered if perhaps that poison had always been in him. You’re just like your mother, his uncle had said on numerous occasions. What if he was just like his father? A faceless man who still breathed air he shouldn’t breath, a man he’d hated but never known...he had his DNA, who’s to say he wasn’t just like that asshole?

Finally, his a long moment of silence, he looked up at her and shook his head. “I don’t know, Tara. I don’t know how to fix this.” She was trying, she really was, and it broke his heart. This wasn’t fair to her, all of the lying, the deceit. What they did have- what the have, it wouldn’t work anymore. Not if he was going to tell her the truth. God, he was an asshole. Why had he said he loved her just know? It would only make things ten times harder for the both of them, but more so for Tara when she found out that he- you killed Becca.. You did this. He repeated to himself, not a mantra, but a reminder. Her lips felt like warmth itself when they pressed against his palm and his eyes closed briefly, lips parting as he sighed, feeling tears begin to form against his lids. “You’re going to hate me.” Al said softly after a moment, slowly taking his hand away from hers back into his own lap.

His breath became shaky as he looked down at his hands, which were also shaking, the fear already beginning to set in. Lie, the voice told him, lie and keep her. It’s what he wanted. What he wanted more than anything in this world was to keep her. Maybe the world wasn’t perfect, and they certainly weren’t either. But what they had...it’d always been perfect to him, in it’s own way. But it was based off of lies, his conscience reminded him, a voice that sounded an awful lot like his uncle’s. Al’s eyes reached up to meet Tara’s and he sighed again, this time his voice cracking before he abruptly leaned forward and kissed her. With his father’s blood running through his veins, he took one last selfish kiss from the love of his life, a kiss that wouldn’t last long enough, but a kiss he would remember long after she’d be gone. As they broke away Al, gave her cheek on last caress, and he backed away a little, giving Tara some space. “I never met to hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it. But I was playing God, and it...it was wrong. I met someone, and she- I mean she made me laugh, I was someone else around her. We were together a short time maybe five or six dates before she found my...well, before she found out what I’d done, all of it. Everything I used for my alchemy, the tools I was using to recreate the philosopher’s stone, she found it all.”

“She got scared,” Al continued, shaking his head, tears beginning to fall down his cheeks, “and so she ran. But I was scared too, I was, I was so scared that everything that’d worked for, everything I’d sacrificed would be for nothing. All I had left of my mother was alchemy, so, I followed her. I tracked her down, I found her, and I...” ‘I killed her.’ Say it, say the words, Al, say that you killed her. A light sob escaped him before he shakily pushed out the words, finding his last bit of strength to tell her the truth. “I killed her. I caused a car accident that took her life.”

#convos #convo13: tara #//eva this is worse than I thought it was going to be 0____0

tara-olsen‌:

Al helped her up and the rest of the way out of the charred building and towards his place was just a jumbled mess of images and sounds for her. She didn’t lose consciousness at any point but she was just too damn tired to properly focus on anything. They got on his motorcycle and she was grateful that she didn’t have to move much anymore. The fresh air helped in some way and as she held on to him, arms wrapped around his torso and her body leaning against his back, she could feel part of her energy gradually begin to come back to her.

As hard-headed and stubborn as she could be, Tara actually allowed him to help her off his bike and up the stairs to his apartment. She wanted to think of it as her home too, because in many ways it was, but right now that place felt foreign just as the man holding her for stability felt too. She gently freed herself from him and moved over to sit down on the couch, taking a deep breath with her eyes closed. She was feeling like shit, which honestly made her want to have this conversation even less, but she knew she couldn’t wait any longer to get the answers to the questions she hadn’t even known she should have asked long ago. She absolutely hated the feeling that there was something so important that Alphonse had kept from her, even more so because more doubt arose with a very poisonous question: If he kept this from me, is there more he’s lied about?

“Thank you for getting me out of there” she finally said, looking up to her boyfriend. She was much too tired to begin this as a fight, to be honest, and she was genuinely grateful that he had walked into that building to save her. If he hadn’t the girl knew she wouldn’t be sitting here tonight. “You know, I keep trying to think of a reason why you could have thought that you couldn’t tell me about your powers, especially since you already knew what I was…”. Her shoulders rose and then fell in a sign of defeat. “And I can’t think of anything”. Her eyes stayed locked on his and she could detect some hurt there, which she knew her own also contained. “I know trust doesn’t come easily for people like you and me- I know I haven’t made things easy for you, but… I don’t know, I thought we were building something good” she said as gestured in one tired motion to the space between them. Their relationship was good, wasn’t it?

It’d all happened so fast. Calling her and hearing that someone was wrong in her voice, getting to the place and practically having to safe her life in that damn burning building, and now they were back at his place safe and sound. But were they? Safe, maybe for now but sound? When Tara finally untangled herself from him and sat on the couch, Al hung back. He paced for a minute as his girlfriend sat silently on his sofa, and he contemplated telling her the truth. I killed Becca. I killed her, Tara, and I tried to kill you. The thought nearly crushed in right then and there, his heartbeat quickening as his pace slowed. His hand fell against his temple and he sighed, closing his eyes when she finally spoke. “Of course, you know I’d do anything...” Al started, trailing off after a moment because he knew the statement wasn’t all that truthful. He’d do anything for her? Really? Of course he felt that now because he...he loved her. But if he really would do anything for her, then he’d he lied?

Because he was a coward. He was scared, and he was in love. Honestly, it was so fucked that he wanted to just leave the apartment. Though he knew he couldn’t do that either. Of course Tara was right; there was no reason he should have lied about his alchemy. Only a guilty man would lie. So what did he do now? Walk away and lose her, or tell her the truth and lose her? Either way he wouldn’t win. His eyes shifted up a little and he found once he saw the look on her face. Defeat, disappointment...it broke his heart. “Hey, hey, we did have something good building here, I...I just fucked it up.” Al shook his head a little as he spoke, easily making his way over to Tara to sit beside her. One of his hands went up to rest against her cheek but he paused, head tilted down a little so he could meet her gaze. “This is me, okay? I’m...I’m fucked up. I know that, and I should have told you the truth but I was scared because I-”

Al finally rested his hand against Tara’s cheek, letting his thumb brush against her skin before he finished his thought. “I was scared because I’m in love with you. And I’ve...I’ve done bad things with this, these abilities, that I have. I’ve killed people, Tara. Most of them bad but some of them...some of them weren’t.”

#convos #convo13: tara #//this actually kills me

tara-olsen‌:

His response pained her in some way. She could see the hurt in his eyes, the regret, the guilt. Alphonse struggled with himself just like Tara struggled with herself, perhaps even more. There was more he wasn’t saying and it probably had something to do with the fact that he chose to keep silent about what he truly was. She was angry about the lie, but more than anything she was feeling sad about it because it felt like a betrayal of some kind from a man she’d grown to trust and to love. Tara wanted to talk about it all right now, which of course wasn’t the best time to do it when a damn building was burning around them. But they sure as hell had a lot to discuss because of this.

Elemental magic. Alchemy. She had hardly read about it because that didn’t follow the line of research Al had helped her conduct. And those types of magic had nothing to do with the kind of magic her medium skills allowed her to wield, so it wasn’t something she’d looked into for her own growth as a supernatural. She would sure as hell dig into that now that she knew her boyfriend was an alchemist, elemental-magic-wielder.

After falling on her knees, her eyes closed for a moment and fluttered open again. It was hard for her to pay attention to Al’s words but she did manage to register them and gave a slight nod. Fuck, she was too tired. Richie would definitely chastise her if he’d seen how she overused her own energy. It didn’t completely escape her notice how the alchemist built a protective wall around her while he continued to fight against the fire. Even in the midst of her anger and sadness and strong desire to slep the hell out of Al, she was worried about her idiot boyfriend. She wanted to get up and help him battle the flames, but she was just too worn out. Tara heard his voice again after a while and he was in front of her as the walls of the protective cocoon around her dissolved. “Let’s get out of here” she said in a low tone, reaching out for him so he would help her up. They couldn’t be here when the firemen walked into the building.

There was so much more left unsaid that Alphonse knew he could never say if he wanted to remain with Tara. If she knew everything, every goddamn detail of his pathetic, shitty life, then she would leave him and never want to see him again. The alchemist didn’t know if that was something he could deal with, honestly. He’d lost so much, felt so much, that it seemed almost impossible to let go of someone who meant so much to him. Tara had become his life line, the reason he woke up with a smile on his face, and continued to strive to be someone he knew he could never really be. He was better with her in his life. Hell, he fucking loved her, but he hadn’t even said that yet, knowing even that small, little word that meant so much could send her running.

As he fought off the flames he did so only thinking of Tara. His magic had never been all that strong, and he knew he wasn’t as skilled as some of the other alchemists he’d come across, but thinking of her...it did something to him he couldn’t quite explain. The flames died down, his magic willing it to do so, and the light that came from his palms was brighter than it ever had been before. When they were gone, or at least had lessened somewhat, Al went back to Tara and extended his hand to her. “We don’t wanna be here when they show up.” He agreed, easily lifting Tara up so that her body rested against his chest and her legs and torso was in his arms. There had been a back entrance he’d seen when he first came into the building, so he wasted no time taking her there. They were able to get out of the building just before the fire and rescue showed up, thank God Al had parked his bike around the corner.

When they finally reached it, Al set Tara down but kept his arm around her waist, knowing she could still very wel be dizzy from loss of energy using her abilities like that. He handed her a helmut and pushed back some stray hairs from her face, looking down upon her before speaking. “Hey, can you do this? Do you think you can hang onto me so we can ride home?” Home, he’d said. Where was home? Either her place or his, but they’d grown acustom to staying at his place more than hers. It was bigger, there was more space for the both of them to exist, and she claimed he had a nicer bed, which he didn’t doubt. He waited for her to answer before getting his helmut out and putting it on. Luckily he was a quick driver, so the ride back to his place wouldn’t take too long.

#convos #convo13: tara

tara-olsen:

Her eyes narrowed at his response because she was honestly hoping he’d come up with something even a little more creative than that to justify keeping that a secret from her. “Yeah, but you weren’t. There’s a big difference between wanting to do something and actually doing it” she hissed back. If Alphonse had no knowledge of her powers she would have been understanding of the secrecy, after all it wasn’t all that easy for people without supernatural abilities to process the fact that people like the two of them existed. Most of the times they reacted with fear and hate to what they didn’t fully understand. But he did know what she was, he had seen her powers firsthand, which should have made it easier for him to reveal he was a supernatural as well. To Tara that felt like a betrayal of some sort, especially taking into account how difficult it was for her to trust others. Al knew that, he knew that it hadn’t been easy for her to open up to him.

The girl managed to stop the flames that were approaching them and lowered her arms, feeling that she was growing more tired by the second. Richie had told her to be careful with her life force, he had warned her that using too much of her energy would leave her exhausted after a while and Tara was reaching that point. She turned to look at Al when he asked her too, cold eyes settled on her boyfriend. “What kind of magic is that? I’ve never seen it” she mentioned as she glanced down at his hands. Whatever it was he could do, it was different. The way he had to press his hands together and then things around him happened, they transformed into what he willed them.

Tara was startled when the glass from the window shattered. She turned around to push back some of the flames to try and open a way for them. Her strained expression gave away that she was pushing herself over the edge and after a moment her legs faltered, making her fall on her knees. She’d been doing this for too long now, and the hot air around them was suffocating. Working together to get out of this place sounded like a great idea but she didn’t think it would actually be possible. Not for her, anyway. She’d already used too much energy and she felt like she would pass out anytime now. “I can’t… I can’t, Al. I already used- I’ve used too much energy”.

He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment as he took a deep breath in. “I know, and I’m an asshole for doing it. I’m sorry, Tara, I’m sorry I’m not...that I’m not fucking better than this.” Alphonse, over the years, had become a rather expert liar. Not only had it begun hurting himself but it hurt those around him, those he loved and cared about. Tara was just another name on that list, regardless if he didn’t want her name there or he did, she was on that fucking list, and so was Becca. Fuck, he’d killed Becca, and he’d live with that fucking guilt every fucking day for the rest of his pathetic life. He should have been better for Tara knowing what he’d almost done the same thing to her as he’d done to her sister. He was right there in front of her while she laid unconscious in that hospital barely breathing...one pillow to the face and she would have died, but he couldn’t do it. His hands shook at the memory, looking into her eyes was almost painful sometimes, because they were the same eyes Becca had, the same eyes that were terrified of him.

No. He couldn’t do this right now, he couldn’t feel fucking guilty over something he’d done a year ago when he was trying to save the woman he fell in love with. Tara’s life matter right now, here, in this moment, and he could save her. It wasn’t hard to see the exhaustion behind Tara’s eyes, her life force depleting significantly from fighting the flames. Life force could easily be distributed from one host to another if he did it right and focused hard enough, but with the fire closing in, the proper response would be for Alphonse to take action and fend it off long enough to get them out of there. “It’s elemental magic.” Al said quickly, leaning down so the palm of his hand pressed into the heated floorboards. It burned like hell, his skin surely taking most of the force as his cooling effect took hold of his energy, the rune on his right hand containing waves glowing a gentle blue hue. “It stems from alchemy, though the runes took years to fucking master. This type of magic takes time to cultivate, and from what my mother wrote in her journals she’d only just began to scratch the surface of these abilities.” He explained, sounding more like a history professor than Tara’s boyfriend. Sometimes he couldn't help it, the teacher switch just sort of flipped on without warning.

Just as the cooling effect started to take hold of the floor boards, Al watched as Tara’s knees gave out from under her, causing him to curse lightly. Almost instantly, his other hand raised, the earth elemental symbol glowing in the center of his palm as a cocoon shaped wall began to build over the fallen medium. “It’s okay Tara, stay right there, don’t move.” The energy he was using to shield Tara from the flames took energy from his cooling effect, causing the flames to lick at his heels. “Fuck,” Al cursed, shifting his body a bit so that his back pressed against the cocoon-like wooden barrier. When it was complete, he shifted that energy into trapping the fire in a gust of wind, suffocating the flames as the ground continued to cool. All of this energy was slowly but surely depleting his own life source, but he tried not to think about it as the fire was slowly dying down around them. It wasn’t until ash covered the ground and the flames only resided in the back corner of the room that he realized he heard sirens outside of the building and his own breathing became ridged. Slowly the alchemist sank farther onto the floor, his runes no longer growing but slowly beginning to vanish as if they hadn’t been there at all. “Tara? Hey, are you okay? The fire department’s here, it’s okay now.” Al breathed out, making his way towards his girlfriend as the cocoon-like barrier began to disassemble itself.

#convos #convo13: tara #//I mean that's totally understandable #he's being shady af right now and he's already lied once

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