Whumptober Day 20

alternative prompt: tragedy

life is calamity - LiS AU alternative ending

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | other ending

warnings: grief, survivor’s guilt, self deprecation, canonical character death

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Twelve hours had gone by since the sun rose on Zelda’s seventeenth birthday. Twelve hours that repeated, and repeated, and repeated until she was so worn down and shattered that she couldn’t even stand up. The sky was dark over Hyrule Castle. The malice beast swirled high in the air, marking its territory before the burning buildings and stampeding guardians. It had not stopped–would not stop, no matter how slow time seemed to become when she pressed herself into Link and resigned herself to being a terrible, unworthy princess. 

So many innocent lives had been lost tonight. Her friends, sealed forever in the ancient machineries she promised them were safe, her father, locked in an eternal state of disappointment, and her kingdom in tatters–this was the fate she’d resigned Hyrule to. And yet, she could not stop being selfish. She could not stop wanting something for herself, even when the world around her depended on her sacrifice. She was an utter disgrace to her people, to her friends, to every living, breathing thing around them, and she couldn’t even find it in herself to be sorry.

Whumptober Day 10

alt. prompt 1: losing control

kingdom come - corrupt!zelda au part 4 

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | next

warnings: isolation, manipulation, pain, self deprecation

this is a drop in quality from the other pieces, admittedly. if it seems rushed, just remember it’s a century she spends with the Calamity. a good portion of that is when she existed in nothing. that would drive me insane personally

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The Calamity was a painful thing in every meaning of the sensation. It was destructive to all of Hyrule, devastating her lands by setting them aflame and killing every last bit of life. When the malice touched her skin, it was so painful that she screamed. The golden glow encasing her body was not enough to save her, and she held tight to the power, to her anger, until it all faded into nothing.

Zelda gripped at her dress because there was nothing else to hold. She existed in a vacuum of nothing. There was a vague part of her, in the very back of her mind, aware of her physical body, of the pain of being encased by malice, of the devastation that Hyrule suffered. She could feel everything, all of the grief and fear and horror of her people, just as intensely as her own. She couldn’t tell them apart anymore, though she supposed she didn’t really need to. They wouldn’t be so different, after all.

She lost her entire life. Everything she’d worked for, with the technology and the Sheikah and her sealing powers and building relationships—all for nothing. It made her upset, angry, and there was nothing for her to do but think about it: about her friends, trapped forever in their corrupted vessels, and Link, buried in a lonely little shrine in a mountain. She might’ve had faith he would return, but there was no evidence for that faith to stem from. It was nothing, if not just a blind wish that he wake and come save her from her prison.