bakerstreet | the betrayal/redemption meme

the betrayal/redemption meme

BETRAYAL MEME

You have done something unspeakable to the people closest to you. How did this come to be, and how will you make amends?

Instructions

Post with your character with their name, series, and whether you're the betrayer, the betrayed, or simply leave it blank! Then, either make up your own scenario to your liking, or use our prompts (RNG totally optional) and go wild!

(Example: for organization's sake, denote b3+2 where you killed someone and are trying to hide it or r5+3 for a situation where you side-hopped and now want nothing more than to make things right, so that people know at a glance whether you're betraying or being redeemed and what you did.)

betrayal; you've turned your back on everything you once stood for

1) you're innocent. it's not your fault, but they can never know. maybe you're protecting someone. maybe you're being blackmailed. whatever the case, it's your dark secret.
2) you're hiding. you've done something terrible, but no one knows it yet. how far will you go to bury what you've done for good?
3) you're uncertain. everything is in place now, but nothing's been set into motion yet. maybe it's not too late to turn back. or is it?
4) you're slipping. you thought you could change. maybe for a while you even managed to. but now you find yourself falling back to your old ways, and everyone around you is at risk.
5) you're reacting. they betrayed you first. you're not in the wrong. they deserve this. they brought this upon themselves. you're not really betraying anyone if they pushed first.

redemption; you've done something that can never be forgiven

1) you're trapped. they caught you red-handed, or maybe you turned yourself in. now those you betrayed are free to face you one by one and have their revenge.
2) you're false. this whole betrayal thing isn't working out quite the way you'd hoped. maybe if you play your cards just right, you'll be able to get your old life back.
3) you're selfless. whatever forced your hand to begin with doesn't matter anymore. you'll destroy yourself and play the role of a villain to the very end if that is what it takes to make things right.
4) you're lost. what you did was wrong, and you know that now. you can never be sorry enough, and you've lost your way. all you want to do is find home. won't anyone out there show you the way?
5) you're tortured. you have to make amends for what you've done. you have to. the thought consumes you, possesses you. you have to find them, help them. but after what you've done, will they even want to see you again?

what you've done;

1) you sold them out
2) you killed
3) you joined the other side
4) you stole
5) you lied
6) you simply are. you were never 'good' to begin with.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

[Tavros never knew.

For all he was aware of, Gamzee just up and disappeared one day. Possibly wandered onto some ornery highblood's lawnring and got himself culled for it. He always did have a bad sense of direction.

Sometimes Gamzee wondered exactly how much his former moirail would have cared by then. By that time he was slipping off too far, starting to welcome Rufio's booming voice in his head rather than shy away from it. It shouldn't have been so surprising, shouldn't have hurt so much. Tavros was indigo, no matter which way you cut it, and he was going to have to rise up to his rightful place eventually. He only proved harder to control each day, and furthermore, it seemed like Tavros himself no longer particularly wanted to be subdued.

He loved his friend, and the line between diamonds and hearts wasn't always particularly clear, but it was harder to handle that simmering rage and narrowed eyes that seemed to always cut at him and say kneel even if his voice never did.

Maybe that's why, when Eridan had finally had enough of the system and blustered to him one day in that arrogant way that only spoke of insecurity, demanding that he see the light and join him, for he'd lead a revolution to victory, just you wait and see, Gamzee accepted his offer.

He ended up not being so bad; the years of his fascination with military history ended up paying off. It was only a small-scale rebellion, but growing large enough to warrant the attention of the Emperor, and Eridan seemed satisfied with that much for now. It was like he knew somewhere in his heart, this could not end the way he wanted it to, but goddammit he was going to die a legend. He was going to die a somebody bigger than anything a quiet life as a maroon blood could ever promise him.

All his military strategy couldn't save them now, not when they were sectioned off and chased by over a dozen of those damn junior subjugglators, eager to prove themselves, who would kill them as soon as look at them in this case. Bringing in the bodies of traitors were sure to fetch high favor, and Gamzee can only hope for the best for the rest of them, because he knows he's reached the end of the line with one of them charging at his heels.

It doesn't take long; a brownblood's stamina is nothing against a highblood's, and soon he's left with his back against a tree and a lance pointed straight at his throat.

Oh no.

Not you.

Not you.

This was so much worse than the end of the line.

He doesn't know how he manages it, but Gamzee puts on a smile for the troll he used to call his best friend.]

Hey, Tavbro.

[Just like that. Like they never parted. Like there wasn't that barrier of blood between them.]

[ He hadn't known.

It had killed him inside to wake up that fateful morning and find his hive empty. He'd spent hours tearing apart - literally tearing it apart to try to find him, convinced that he must have fallen or gotten lost in the cracks between the floorboards or the couch cushions, because by that point reality was hard to distinguish from fantasy and everything hurt. His fellow subjuggulators had found him curled up on the carpet, letting loose a high, keening noise of distress as he worked himself further into frenzy.

No neighbors had seen him. If they had they wouldn't say anyway - a crazed indigoblood without the calming presence of a moirail was terrifying, no one would admit that they may have killed a brownblood for wandering too close. He was wild, completely out of control, two sweeps ago he was just finding his calling and giving in to the voices in his head.

Now he was older.

Wiser.

Stronger.

Still not yet a full subjuggulator - he was young for them, even if after the departure of his moirail he'd taken to the calling like never before, he fought tooth and nail for the recognition he'd never received growing up. The walls of his hive were painted with blood, his entire body painted and tattooed with the mark of his faith. The lowbloods feared the highbloods as they never had before, Tavros was brutal in his execution and torturous in the nightmares he crafted.

When word of the rebellion finally reached the nobility, he was the first choice for the mission. He gathered his favorites and barked orders. When he discovered the identity of the ringleader he laughed, long and hard, and prepared to place the most humiliating stop to his little game before ending his miserable existence. He's ready - he's ready and this is it, he'll add maroon to his walls and consider himself fucking done of his collection.

When they storm the base of operations and catches a glimpse of the retreating trolls, he ignores them all. Roars orders, destroys everything and everyone in his path to catch the retreating trolls. Each fall, necks snapped, bones broken, and by the time he comes upon the last one he's a mess. The paint is streaked, showing the long scars that force a perpetual smile on his face. He looks nothing like the skinny, awkward troll that had clung feverishly to his moirail after a nightmare, or sobbed into his shoulder when one of the other trolls had been too cruel. There's a mad look in his eye as he presses the lance closer.

... But the pressure stops at the voice.

Tavros reels back. ]

... Gamzee.

[It was Tavros, all right; massive, and painted, and intimidating like his younger self never was, but Tavros all the same.

And then again, he wasn't. This one smelled like death with a look to match, and their quadrant had long since been abandoned - something that leaves a dull, hollow ache inside him, because Gamzee knows it's his fault that he let his former moirail reach such a state. He can't push the lance aside and draw him into a hug to shoosh away those dark thoughts anymore. It's his fault he's now more Rufio than the hurt, angry troll he met all those sweeps ago.

But then again, that's what was going to happen anyway. Leaving to agree to let Eridan go on his wild goose chase of revolution only sped up the process. Tavros was going to have to submit to his calling eventually, as much as they both always ignored the reality of the situation. Better to tear the band-aid off now than let it linger.

He knew, he knew, he knew. He knew things were going to end up like this.

And yet actually seeing the result of his handiwork tears at something deep and personal inside him, makes a wound inside him big enough for those familiar paleflush feelings to come creeping back into his skin.

Tavros is massive and terrifying, but a part of Gamzee will always seem to see him as that pitiful troll he found sulking on the beach when the brownblood got lost and separated from his lusus all those sweeps ago.]

Kind of a motherfucking shitty surprise, isn't it?

[The voice is warm and familiar, despite all things, because Gamzee can't remember a time when he was ever able to talk to him in any other way.]

[ It doesn't need to be shoved aside. The lance slowly lowers, the aggression seeping out of his stance. Instead, confusion overtakes him - orange eyes wide, searching for answers he doesn't want to know on the other's face. ]

They took you. [ Even with the deadly, husky rumble that his voice has become, the plea come through plain and clear. That's the only thing he can think of, the only way he could possibly accept that his moirail was here with them and not with him. Even if in the end it was bad, even if they were tired and frustrated and the quiet loathing was hard to ignore. ] They took you, that's why you're here, they took you, I thought you were dead, I looked everywhere for you.

[ Killed hundreds of your men, your caste, anyone who dared to lift a hand against him or looked too much like you and weren't. He's done terrible things, Gamzee. Tried to fill the hole in his heart and the mindnumbing loneliness with company that lasted until they'd outlived their usefulness, or until the resemblance was no longer enough to make him care.

He's become a monster.

But for the first time in sweeps his hands are shaking and the bloodlust has dimmed. ]

[Gamzee wishes- he really wishes- he would stop hearing Tavros under all the rock and gravel his voice had become. It always made things so much harder.

He wants to tell him no, pin the blame on Eridan because his rebellion was a failure anyway, just like all the rest of them and really, what's one more betrayal to round things off? But he can't, he won't, because slipping off in the dead of night at Eridan's request was a lot easier than lying to his face, and if he's going to go down like he knows is the only option left to him, then Tavros would at least be able to hear the truth.

Tear the bandage off. It worked so well last time.]

Think Eridan's ghosts can go and take me hostage, bro?

[It's almost like a casual question, one with the soft undertone of apology beneath it.]

No, but, [ That apology is not something Tavros wants to hear. Gamzee's departure had wounded him in a way he didn't even understand, he tore something raw and bloody from his chest and crushed it underneath his heel without so much as a care.

The lance drops from his grasp. Suddenly, those massive hands are gripping Gamzee's shoulders. Tavros' eyes are pleading - its not true, you didn't, you didn't leave me all alone for them! Somewhere in the back of his mind he's making a note that he wants to kill the fucking lowblooded scum who organized this whole ordeal. Not just for this, but for payback for the sweeps he'd spent quietly suffering his verbal abuse. ]

They goaded you. [ There's clear desperation. ] They, made you leave, they lied to you. They- they- they, they did something, you wouldn't just leave for no reaosn.

[He jumps when those hands drop on his shoulders. He could practically see the end of his life on the horizon; all Tavros had to do was squeeze and that would be the end of it, Gamzee could feel the brute force under his fingers even if Tavros's touch was only as tight as a homesick child begging not to be left alone. He looks up, into those burnt, orange eyes that just seem so sad and so pitiful and please, Tavros, no, don't do this, this was hard enough already.

He reaches up instinctively once he sees the look on his face, hears the desperation in his voice, and lets his hand rest atop the large, lukewarm weight on his shoulders. It seemed so small compared to him now. Funny.]

I had a reason.

[You didn't listen.

You never listened and he loved you so much, Tavros, but he couldn't stay there anymore, not when the indigo blood was ringing so loudly in your ears that Gamzee couldn't reach you anymore.

He tries to smile again, comfortingly, like he always did, but this time it comes out as more of a grimace.]

Don't think your indibrothers liked me all up in your quadrants very much.

[There was so much more to it than that, but this one was small, neutral, easy.]

No.

[ Those massive shoulders shake. Tavros shakes his head, slowly at first, then faster. The pain is impossible to ignore - he'd thought his heart had stopped feeling things like this, the occasional twinge he got when he caught a glimpse of spiral horns or felt hands gently brushing through his mohawk (afterwards they did, they treated him with such reverence thank you for sparing me Highblood, I'll do anything for you and obliged when he said that all he wanted was to be loved. when it was over, when the afterglow faded and the tears on his cheeks tried, he splattered them without mercy, but between then and there he loved and pitied them with all his heart) that was hard to stomach. It made him go weak in the knees and throb with heartache.

That was nothing compared to this. His entire body trembles. ]

You left. You were all I had and YOU LEFT!

[It wasn't the first time Gamzee had wondered if he did, in fact, make the wrong choice; usually it was an idle thought that passed through his head whenever Eridan's talk of strategy and glory grew too long and monotonous for him. It was a thought he grew used to pushing down and away because he had sweeps of practice for that anyway and such thoughts were dangerous when you were as in deep as he was.

He flinches when Tavros shouts, shoulders underneath those enormous hands giving a single, surprised hitch before he settles again.

There's an instinct to hug him, pull his head down into his chest and stroke that soft hair of his. Wipe away the paint on his face because Tavros never liked it anyway. Kiss the scars on his mouth and say Sorry I'm sorry goddamn I am so motherfucking sorry, but he stamps it out like the rest of them because now is not the time for pale feelings and it's certainly not the time for those throbbing red ones that haven't seemed to have faded at all, because they never faded, they were always stubbornly, blindingly red even was Tavros was at his worst.

Now it not the time for that. He doesn't know if there will ever be a time for that.]

You left first.

[It's a soft tone, as calm and subdued as the rest of him, but there's a slight accusatory undertone to it.]

[ Two sweeps ago, that would have done it. Tavros would have broke, tucked his face into his best friend's shoulder and cried with all the pent up pain and anguish his calling had caused. He would have apologized, begged for forgiveness, promised to do better - to be better.

But he was different then. Smaller, more delicate. He was sane then, not the unpredictable wreck he'd become without love of guidance in his life. Now, though the shaking intensifies and there are trails of indigo sliding down down his cheeks, all the visible signs of the heartbreak, he doesn't react with compassion or pleas of forgiveness.

He throws the brownblood into the closest tree, slamming into him at full force. His hand closes around Gamzee's head, snarling in his face. ] ME? I left first? I SPENT A SWEEP LOOKING FOR YOU. I was the reason you never got CULLED despite being a lowdown shitblood who couldn't even fill his quadrants.

[There. Look at it, Gamzee. Look what decision turned him into. Look at the way Eridan's rebellion probably failed because of what you made him turn to this.

But no, that's not fair, because if Tavros wasn't already heading down this path then Gamzee never would have left. Tavros had been like holding back a tidal wave and he was just so tired.

The force of being slammed back into the tree is enough to knock the wind out of him, and for a moment he sees stars with a stray thought of mIrAcLeS before he pushes it away because Eridan never did stand for him reciting that highblood garbage and he did try to make his leader happy.

Two sweeps ago, he would have accepted the insults about his blood, told himself he was just angry and didn't mean it, and it's okay, it's okay Tavros can think whatever he wanted to think. He would have wiped the tears off Tavros's face and tried to pull him into his arms and whispered soothing, apologetic words to him.

Tavros wasn't the only one who changed. Eridan had succeeded at something, and that was giving his followers a complete intolerance of the highblood arrogance and the way they looked down at their blood. Gamzee's face hardens and glares at the other troll, and he's vaguely aware of those giant hands on his head but brown blood is pounding furiously in his ears and if he's going to be killed he's not going to go down crying and begging for mercy, MOTHERFUCK NO.]

Then it looks like you motherfucking found me, bro.

So.

Let's not fuck around.

[ His grip tightens.

The tears are flowing freely now, but the look that twists his face is complete fucking madness. He smiles wide, all fangs bared, pupils mere pinpricks in a sea of bloodthirsty indigo. ]

I'll mount your head on my wall. [ He gives a rough shake, turning his attention away for a moment to flick through his modus for an appropriate weapon.] That way you can't ever leave again.

[He means it, he knows he does. If Gamzee gives him any longer, then he has no doubt he'll end up a head shorter and staring blindly at the blood spattered walls in Tavros's hive.

He's tired and maybe it's not so bad, getting killed by his best friend. Maybe it's no less than he deserved.

But he can't, he can't, Eridan assigned him to this branch and if he didn't report back to headquarters then they'd go out looking for him and maybe this fate is only poetic justice for Gamzee but there's at least a chance Tavros would make the death quick. He doesn't want to think of what he would do if he got a hold of Eridan, because he remembered the way the maroonblood lashed out at his moirail whenever he had a case of insecurity (which was all the time).

No. He had to at least try to get out of this.

Using whatever little leeway Tavros's massive hands gave him, he shakes his head from side to side.]

Sorry, Tavbro. Can't say I do the whole getting tied down thing.

[He reaches out with his mind, calls out for anything with teeth and claws to get their asses over here. He's not disappointed; several of Alteria's large, bearlike creature pad over in the projected urgency and Gamzee wastes no time on apologies in his mind before he makes damn sure one of those things roar straight into Tavros's ear before raising its claws to swipe at him.]

[ Tavros turns just in time for a massive paw to slam into his face. The troll staggers back, letting out a howl of pain. The hand so eager to crush his former moirail's head lets go, flying out instead to strike the face of the beast.

There's a sickening crunch. The muzzle is flattened against his face, leaving bloody green streaks all over Tavros' hand.

The other one is on him in a minute. ]

[Gamzee doesn't have any time to tell them to disperse, or to let that pang of sympathy for both parties involved sink in. He staggers back at the newfound freedom, but Gamzee doesn't think.

He just runs.]

[ They don't last long against the furious highblood. They're strong, he'll give them that. But Tavros is so far gone that he actually leans into the ripping claws, smashing skulls with a swing of his fist.

When the throng lies dead at his feet he's limping and bloody, even more furious than before.

But lets Gamzee have the head start. Ten minutes.

Then he follows after.]

[The sounds of a fight ends too soon but there's no heavy panting of a highblood following after him. It's too quiet and Gamzee knows those things

He was his moirail for sweeps; long enough to still read the message he was giving, loud and clear.

One head start.

He zigzags, tromps several trails through the dense forest, tells a few of the local life to slow him the fuck down, though he always hated using animals like this.

In the end he's not sure what good it will do. It still doesn't feel like he's going to make it out of the wilderness with his head intact.

But if Tavros wanted to play a game then goddammit he will give one to him.]

[ Tavros is not a rookie anymore. The crisscrossing trails could only keep him distracted for so long before he found the right one. He crawls through the underbrush, hefting a hunk of branch over his shoulder as a weapon. Beasts fall beneath his heavy blows like clumsy paper dolls.

He reaches out his mind out with nightmares and screams. ]

[Gamzee might be more lost than Tavros at this point. He never did have a good sense of direction and after a while the trees just seem to blur together and it all starts to look the same. It will be pure luck indeed if Gamzee doesn't happen to accidentally run into his pursuer himself.

In the end, he doesn't have to. He can hear the scream clear as day and nightmares hit him, hard, fast, and vivid.

Even after all this time, Tavros knew him better than anyone and Gamzee is paralyzed by the visions he is sent, leaning heavy and trembling against a nearby tree because now his whole body is screaming to just curl up and let Tavros take him please just make it stop make it stop MAKE IT STOP.

He manages to have enough sense not to scream, biting down hard enough on his lip for brown blood to drip down his mouth and chin in thin, flowing rivers.]

[ He slides up behind him. Forhead resting on the back of his neck, large horns caging him in. Tavros' massive hands stroke his sides, a soft shooshing sound, a mockery of the former soft calming sounds that he'd been given ]

I could make you cry. [ He mumbles, bestowing a kiss on his shoulder. ] I could make you want to tear your own throat out...

But I won't.

[He might have still been about to twist out, at least momentarily. Gamzee was lean and flexible and made for evasion. But it's all he can do to hold himself up, to not sink to his knees and scream until all these images go away.

Call something over. Distract him. Get out of this mess.

If only it were so easy. His mind is so scrambled and agonized that he couldn't even command a squirrel to his side. Tavros's forehead against him causes a cold rush of dread, but the hands at his sides and the kiss on his shoulder sends a shiver up his spine and Gamzee flushes all over again and he'd hate himself for it if he had the presence of mind to do so.

He could make him cry. He could make him want to tear his own throat out, Gamzee knows he could. The fact that he won't is not a source of comfort.

He bites his lip harder and says nothing, stifles a whimper of distress, claws digging desperately into the bark of the tree.]

[ Tavros wraps his arms firmly around Gamzee's body, pressing close.

But the teeth that seize his ear aren't playful. They're downright cruel, biting down hard and brutal as you please.

Somehow, this constitutes as affection. The sweeps that had separated them had not been kind to Tavros' mind. This brutal torture seems like nothing more than a long overdue kiss.

All at one the nightmares are gone. His teeth loosen their vice grip and he tilts his head ever so slightly, whispering into Gamzee's ear. ] If you fight me like that again I really will kill you.

[ He can't decide what he wants. ]

[He barely registers the pain in his ear or the arms around him until the nightmares vanish, then there's all at once a sigh of relief and a hiss of pain as he jerks suddenly, though the effort is weak.

The threat almost makes him want to try anyway, after two sweeps of rebellion and highblood spite. But he's still weak and trembling from those nightmares, could barely get that damn squirrel to take two steps before it was too much to bear and Gamzee sags listlessly in Tavros's arms, feeling like his head was about to split in half from the effort.

He's caught.]

[ Perfect.

He considers beheading him in one fell swoop. One large hand lifts up to finger the delicate parts of his throat - and he considers, teeth baring ever so slightly.

Instead, he opts to drive his head hard into the back of the other trolls with full intent to knock him out. ]

tavros nitram | homestuck bloodswap au

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So yan :c

all the yan for you

:(

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