sunnyday-db

[sunnyday-db]

Posted on ao3

To Lose Himself in Guilt

To Lose Himself in Guilt

This is a fanfic set in the amazingly written interactive fiction inspired by Arthurian legends, The Bastard of Camelot by Llamagirl.

Summary:

"I simply do not understand." Mordred finally spoke. "If there's anything more you wish to know, I can try to the best of my abilit-" "No, no. Not about the...about what she did. It's you. How can you bear to even be close to me?" He whispered, unsure of his own words and newly unshed tears.

It's been a day since that awful night. Mordred remains unresponsive to anyone's pleas. He feels sick, disgusted with himself and his mother’s actions, and for all the years spent in anger for his absent father.

How could he believe it wasn’t his fault? What could he possibly do to lessen his guilt?

Aka: Arthur and Mordred have a much needed conversation.

Content Warnings: vague suicidal thoughts, dissociation, as in the original work, “the protagonist is a child of incest, and the story deals with the topics of incest, rape and abuse”.

Words count: 1600

This is my first fic, I'm actually terrified posting this help

Mordred was somehow able to put on a smile throughout the day, entertaining all those unaware of his still troubled heart. There were a few days left before all the guests would start leaving the castle. 

He was trapped in a bubble, his mind floating while everything moved despite his presence, too enwrapped in a fog of his own making to notice the worrisome looks the few who knew his revolting secret were giving him. Thankfully, among those, his Mother got the clever idea of making herself scarce at this time and kept her distance.

After everything expected of him was done, he reached his bed just in time for his body to completely shut down, shielded by the disguised safety of his room. He closed his eyes and tried to quiet his mind, resting. Striving to do anything more would have felt like an insurmountable task.

He was so tired, his muscles aching and his eyes still stinging from the tears of the previous night while numbness was slowly claiming his mind.

He didn’t react to the sound of the door opening, nor the soft and careful footsteps. Poor Gareth’s heart clenched when he saw him in that state.

"Hey there". He attempted to say, not expecting a reply. "Should I ask how you’re doing?"

"I’m tired, Gareth, and having to talk with all those people didn’t exactly help." Mordred snapped. "How many revelations am I going to have to hear before I'll finally have an ounce of control in my life? Maybe I never will."

After those last almost whispered words, it took only a second for him to remember who he was talking to and regret his harsh tone.

"Right…I’m sorry. Thanks to me, you had your fair share of…excitement." He said sardonically, mocking himself more than anyone else. "I probably shouldn’t have laid down on you all that this morning."

"Don’t apologize. If it wasn’t for you, I doubt I would have ever known about it in the first place. It’s…a lot to process. But you shouldn’t worry about me now, should you?"

Truthfully, Gareth wasn’t doing too well himself. His mother's past action was still fresh in his mind. He, too, was in need of a distraction.

"I could call Gawain to play more board games if you’d like. You seem brighter when he’s around…I do wonder why?" He remarked in a conspiratorial tone, trying to hide a half smirk.

With a faint redness in his cheeks, Mordred decided to ignore his brother's inquiry and mumbled, squishing his face into a pillow. "As much as I would like that, I doubt I would be much company in my current state."

"I’m sure he would appreciate simply being here, but I won’t force you. I understand you’re tired, but maybe going outside for a bit might help. I’ll wait for you in the gardens if you change your mind. We won’t be disturbed at this time of the day."

Having said so, Gareth departed, revealing for a split second an orange hue, the sun timidly peaking from the window across the corridor.

When the door closed once more, Mordred, abandoned in the dark, suddenly missed having someone around. Those few seconds of silence were enough to drown the lightness in his heart Gareth was able to bring.

He decided to leave for the gardens.

Gareth warmly welcomed him as soon as he caught sight of him, noticeably relieved. They sat to play a card game, sitting on a bench close to a big fountain, lulled by the sound of flowing water.

They stayed that way for around an hour, just in time for the sun to completely vanish, leaving in its place the quietness of the evening. Just then, Gareth spotted Arthur staring clumsily, half hidden by a column.

While Arthur was finding the courage to move from his hiding place, Gareth, glancing back and forth, settled it would have been best to let them talk. He probably was the person who could understand Mordred's pain the most. He had a miserable frown anytime he thought he wasn't looking.

"Mordred, I think there's someone who wants to see you. I'll leave you to it, but you're more than welcome in my room if it gets too much." And with a last cheerless smile, he left in that same direction.

Mordred stood up about to question him, until he laid eyes on an Arthur who appeared, at this point, a bit more confident.

He took slow, gentle steps, stopping anytime he perceived even the smallest movement or reaction on Mordred's side while observing him with a soft gaze as if afraid he would run away.

Mordred himself felt like a scared wild animal, ready to jump from the danger but frozen with the expectation and need of closure.

"Hi," Arthur uttered, his voice cracking at the last letter before scratching his throat. "Would you mind sharing this view with me?" He said this time a bit more fluently.

A silly excuse, but Mordred, careful to avoid his gaze, shook his head nonetheless, unable to vocalize a single word and too overwhelmed with guilt and the nauseating sickness in his stomach.

Arthur moved closer to the fountain and stopped right at its edge, the water reflecting the light from the torches slowly being lit up. Mordred followed suit and sat on the slightly uncomfortably wet border.

"Mordred I-, I know I don't deserve to, but I'm worried about you." This time, he turned to fully look at his face, Mordred's intentions clear for the first time that day, too tired to pretend anymore. He was looking at the ripples in the fountain with a wistful look, almost as if wishing that same water could drown him. It was an expression he recognised as his own after what was probably the worst time in his life.

"I simply do not understand." Mordred finally spoke.

"If there's anything more you wish to know, I can try to the best of my abilit-"

"No, no. Not about the...about what she did. It's you. How can you bear to even be close to me?" He whispered, unsure of his own words and newly unshed tears.

"Oh no. Please, Mordred, it is not your burden to carry." Arthur begged, this time crouching in an attempt to be closer, stopping himself from cradling his scrunched face that looked so hurt and lost but still refused to turn.

"But, I hurt you. Maybe not directly but I still did."

"No Mordred, it's-." He took a big breath before continuing. "I have no right to ask this of you, but please, listen to me very carefully." 

Mordred finally turned to look at him, and saw Arthur speaking with a resolution in his eyes that he had never seen before, one that seemed to be missing even when he played the role of the King, when he buckled under the heavy weight of the crown.

"I’ll say it as many times as it takes for you to remember, I care about you. I spent too many years trying to convince myself otherwise. Blame me if you must, but do not own my mistake as if it were yours."

"As if it were yours", he said…those words spinning in Mordred's head. He realised both were blaming themselves for a choice that ultimately was made by his Moth-…Morgana. He didn't have it in him to call either of his parents by anything else but their given names at the moment.

Mordred couldn't hold that powerful stare for long. It held so much hurt and affection he didn't deserve but desperately wanted. Still, he tried, for his and Arthur's sake. He took a deep breath, tasting salty tears as he tried to speak. "I don't know if I can believe that. I can try. I'll need some time but I'll try."

After those words, Arthur couldn't hold himself anymore and tightly gripped his son in a hug, not caring of his own tears."That is all I ask."

They kept shushing and comforting each other for minutes that felt like hours until their tears ran dry for hopefully the last time that day.

While Arthur was absentmindedly patting Mordred's hair, who finally calmed down, he suddenly remembered a bittersweet memory.

"I’ve had plenty of similar conversations with Kay. I suppose it’s thanks to him if I didn’t immediately crumble when- well, you know." His voice struggled to keep itself together. "That is to say, if you need another to hear your troubles, he can be a surprisingly good listener. I would imagine you would see more of him now that you and Gawain seem to be…close." Arthur tried to be careful with his words, feeling like it was not his place to intrude, but he did little to hide his pleased smile.

Mordred squeaked, trying to hide his flushing face with his trembling hands. "By the Goddess, am I that obvious? How does everyone I talk to know?!"

"Gawain isn’t exactly subtle if you were trying to hide it". He chuckled.

They kept talking about everything and nothing, about mundane topics for once, a guise of normalcy in their tragic history. But once the moon rose brightly in the night sky, they knew it was time to bid farewell. They wished each other a goodnight, this time with both their hearts a little lighter, the stars shining in their eyes, and with the promise that they were going to be okay. At least for a moment in time.

Notes: Before this, I only ever helped in writing characters' backstories and random bits of dialogue, so this is uh…new. Everyone is probably OOC and I'm not sure that's how a 12 year old speaks. But I felt a NEED to write it if it makes sense? I could not keep the idea spinning in my head. Hopefully I managed to make the descriptions not sound too pretentious. Keep in mind this is pretty much my first piece of writing in general, not just fanfic so be kind xD.

Apparently people are using AI to write fics, so I feel like I have to say I haven't used any here. My shitty writing comes all from my little brain, thank you.

[sunnyday-db]

Don't mind me, just thinking about The Dark Urge.

Is their violence all there is to them? Were they sweet once? Or was their life constantly covered in viscera and blood, as sick and viscous as their dreams?

[sunnyday-db]

I'm hiding this here with no tags (or sort of), but I still want to share because it's a bit funny. Here's how I was planning what to write in certain parts of the fic...

Something something about Arthur approaching Mordred as if he were a scared wild animal. Sitting on the edge of a fountain. Mordred looking at the ripples in a wistful look, almost as if wishing that same water could drown him.

Something about the stars shining in Arthur’s eyes and Mordred not being able to hold that powerful stare. It hurt too much, all that affection in his eyes so visible.

Something something about how he needs time, having lost the trust of the one he trusted the most, his mother. But he’ll try. For his and Arthur’s sake.

[sunnyday-db]

To Lose Himself in Guilt

This is a fanfic set in the amazingly written interactive fiction inspired by Arthurian legends, The Bastard of Camelot by Llamagirl.

Summary:

"I simply do not understand." Mordred finally spoke. "If there's anything more you wish to know, I can try to the best of my abilit-" "No, no. Not about the...about what she did. It's you. How can you bear to even be close to me?" He whispered, unsure of his own words and newly unshed tears.

It's been a day since that awful night. Mordred remains unresponsive to anyone's pleas. He feels sick, disgusted with himself and his mother’s actions, and for all the years spent in anger for his absent father.

How could he believe it wasn’t his fault? What could he possibly do to lessen his guilt?

Aka: Arthur and Mordred have a much needed conversation.

Content Warnings: vague suicidal thoughts, dissociation, as in the original work, “the protagonist is a child of incest, and the story deals with the topics of incest, rape and abuse”.

Words count: 1600

This is my first fic, I'm actually terrified posting this help

Mordred was somehow able to put on a smile throughout the day, entertaining all those unaware of his still troubled heart. There were a few days left before all the guests would start leaving the castle. 

He was trapped in a bubble, his mind floating while everything moved despite his presence, too enwrapped in a fog of his own making to notice the worrisome looks the few who knew his revolting secret were giving him. Thankfully, among those, his Mother got the clever idea of making herself scarce at this time and kept her distance.

After everything expected of him was done, he reached his bed just in time for his body to completely shut down, shielded by the disguised safety of his room. He closed his eyes and tried to quiet his mind, resting. Striving to do anything more would have felt like an insurmountable task.

He was so tired, his muscles aching and his eyes still stinging from the tears of the previous night while numbness was slowly claiming his mind.

He didn’t react to the sound of the door opening, nor the soft and careful footsteps. Poor Gareth’s heart clenched when he saw him in that state.

"Hey there". He attempted to say, not expecting a reply. "Should I ask how you’re doing?"

"I’m tired, Gareth, and having to talk with all those people didn’t exactly help." Mordred snapped. "How many revelations am I going to have to hear before I'll finally have an ounce of control in my life? Maybe I never will."

After those last almost whispered words, it took only a second for him to remember who he was talking to and regret his harsh tone.

"Right…I’m sorry. Thanks to me, you had your fair share of…excitement." He said sardonically, mocking himself more than anyone else. "I probably shouldn’t have laid down on you all that this morning."

"Don’t apologize. If it wasn’t for you, I doubt I would have ever known about it in the first place. It’s…a lot to process. But you shouldn’t worry about me now, should you?"

Truthfully, Gareth wasn’t doing too well himself. His mother's past action was still fresh in his mind. He, too, was in need of a distraction.

"I could call Gawain to play more board games if you’d like. You seem brighter when he’s around…I do wonder why?" He remarked in a conspiratorial tone, trying to hide a half smirk.

With a faint redness in his cheeks, Mordred decided to ignore his brother's inquiry and mumbled, squishing his face into a pillow. "As much as I would like that, I doubt I would be much company in my current state."

"I’m sure he would appreciate simply being here, but I won’t force you. I understand you’re tired, but maybe going outside for a bit might help. I’ll wait for you in the gardens if you change your mind. We won’t be disturbed at this time of the day."

Having said so, Gareth departed, revealing for a split second an orange hue, the sun timidly peaking from the window across the corridor.

When the door closed once more, Mordred, abandoned in the dark, suddenly missed having someone around. Those few seconds of silence were enough to drown the lightness in his heart Gareth was able to bring.

He decided to leave for the gardens.

Gareth warmly welcomed him as soon as he caught sight of him, noticeably relieved. They sat to play a card game, sitting on a bench close to a big fountain, lulled by the sound of flowing water.

They stayed that way for around an hour, just in time for the sun to completely vanish, leaving in its place the quietness of the evening. Just then, Gareth spotted Arthur staring clumsily, half hidden by a column.

While Arthur was finding the courage to move from his hiding place, Gareth, glancing back and forth, settled it would have been best to let them talk. He probably was the person who could understand Mordred's pain the most. He had a miserable frown anytime he thought he wasn't looking.

"Mordred, I think there's someone who wants to see you. I'll leave you to it, but you're more than welcome in my room if it gets too much." And with a last cheerless smile, he left in that same direction.

Mordred stood up about to question him, until he laid eyes on an Arthur who appeared, at this point, a bit more confident.

He took slow, gentle steps, stopping anytime he perceived even the smallest movement or reaction on Mordred's side while observing him with a soft gaze as if afraid he would run away.

Mordred himself felt like a scared wild animal, ready to jump from the danger but frozen with the expectation and need of closure.

"Hi," Arthur uttered, his voice cracking at the last letter before scratching his throat. "Would you mind sharing this view with me?" He said this time a bit more fluently.

A silly excuse, but Mordred, careful to avoid his gaze, shook his head nonetheless, unable to vocalize a single word and too overwhelmed with guilt and the nauseating sickness in his stomach.

Arthur moved closer to the fountain and stopped right at its edge, the water reflecting the light from the torches slowly being lit up. Mordred followed suit and sat on the slightly uncomfortably wet border.

"Mordred I-, I know I don't deserve to, but I'm worried about you." This time, he turned to fully look at his face, Mordred's intentions clear for the first time that day, too tired to pretend anymore. He was looking at the ripples in the fountain with a wistful look, almost as if wishing that same water could drown him. It was an expression he recognised as his own after what was probably the worst time in his life.

"I simply do not understand." Mordred finally spoke.

"If there's anything more you wish to know, I can try to the best of my abilit-"

"No, no. Not about the...about what she did. It's you. How can you bear to even be close to me?" He whispered, unsure of his own words and newly unshed tears.

"Oh no. Please, Mordred, it is not your burden to carry." Arthur begged, this time crouching in an attempt to be closer, stopping himself from cradling his scrunched face that looked so hurt and lost but still refused to turn.

"But, I hurt you. Maybe not directly but I still did."

"No Mordred, it's-." He took a big breath before continuing. "I have no right to ask this of you, but please, listen to me very carefully." 

Mordred finally turned to look at him, and saw Arthur speaking with a resolution in his eyes that he had never seen before, one that seemed to be missing even when he played the role of the King, when he buckled under the heavy weight of the crown.

"I’ll say it as many times as it takes for you to remember, I care about you. I spent too many years trying to convince myself otherwise. Blame me if you must, but do not own my mistake as if it were yours."

"As if it were yours", he said…those words spinning in Mordred's head. He realised both were blaming themselves for a choice that ultimately was made by his Moth-…Morgana. He didn't have it in him to call either of his parents by anything else but their given names at the moment.

Mordred couldn't hold that powerful stare for long. It held so much hurt and affection he didn't deserve but desperately wanted. Still, he tried, for his and Arthur's sake. He took a deep breath, tasting salty tears as he tried to speak. "I don't know if I can believe that. I can try. I'll need some time but I'll try."

After those words, Arthur couldn't hold himself anymore and tightly gripped his son in a hug, not caring of his own tears."That is all I ask."

They kept shushing and comforting each other for minutes that felt like hours until their tears ran dry for hopefully the last time that day.

While Arthur was absentmindedly patting Mordred's hair, who finally calmed down, he suddenly remembered a bittersweet memory.

"I’ve had plenty of similar conversations with Kay. I suppose it’s thanks to him if I didn’t immediately crumble when- well, you know." His voice struggled to keep itself together. "That is to say, if you need another to hear your troubles, he can be a surprisingly good listener. I would imagine you would see more of him now that you and Gawain seem to be…close." Arthur tried to be careful with his words, feeling like it was not his place to intrude, but he did little to hide his pleased smile.

Mordred squeaked, trying to hide his flushing face with his trembling hands. "By the Goddess, am I that obvious? How does everyone I talk to know?!"

"Gawain isn’t exactly subtle if you were trying to hide it". He chuckled.

They kept talking about everything and nothing, about mundane topics for once, a guise of normalcy in their tragic history. But once the moon rose brightly in the night sky, they knew it was time to bid farewell. They wished each other a goodnight, this time with both their hearts a little lighter, the stars shining in their eyes, and with the promise that they were going to be okay. At least for a moment in time.

Notes: Before this, I only ever helped in writing characters' backstories and random bits of dialogue, so this is uh…new. Everyone is probably OOC and I'm not sure that's how a 12 year old speaks. But I felt a NEED to write it if it makes sense? I could not keep the idea spinning in my head. Hopefully I managed to make the descriptions not sound too pretentious. Keep in mind this is pretty much my first piece of writing in general, not just fanfic so be kind xD.

Apparently people are using AI to write fics, so I feel like I have to say I haven't used any here. My shitty writing comes all from my little brain, thank you.

[sunnyday-db]

I was supposed to write a little snippet to post here but it's getting closer and closer to over 2000 words so now I'm wondering if it should just be on ao3 lol

[sunnyday-db]

I'm sorry, but with the recent events of AI scraping I decided most, if not all, of my works will be restricted for registered users only (which means you will need an account on ao3 to read them). I will, however, post them here if they're from a more niche fandom or they have less than 2k words.

Here you can find my finished or abandoned works:

https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnyday_db

I hope I linked this right...there's only one atm

Tags for this blog:

#my works | self-explanatory

#to never be | drafts, wips, snippets, or drabbles that might or might not one day be finished

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