#the good ship hydromelink

[honestground]

so you know the quest where you have to get wildberries for the gerudo who eats hydromelon? i think she and link definitely did the nasty. thoughts?

disagree for two reasons:

Calyban’s first and ONLY love is hydromelon

Link can’t even smell the stuff without getting war flashbacks or a really confused, guilty boner

[honestground]

I would DIE if you wrote a short hydromelink fic

This essentially sums up my year so I guess it’s fitting that it’s my last fic of 2017. Based off the infamous art of Link in the vai outfit fucking a hydromelon; this is pure crack and is absolutely not meant to be taken seriously. Enjoy the good ship Hydromelink. 1,600~ words, obviously NSFW.

Hopefully 2018 will find me producing better content than this. Probably not, though.

heat/stroke

The sky is blue, the sand is dry, and Gerudo Desert is sweltering.

After the long, arduous trek through the desert, being denied entry to Gerudo Town had been a heavy blow. Had he been hydrated enough to produce tears, Link thinks he might have cried—but as it was, he had trudged back to Kara Kara Bazaar and spent the rest of the morning lying in the shade with his shirt off, head spinning and begging the sky for rain. 

It had been half boredom, half curiosity that had made him climb the ladder to the top of the bazaar, and it was there that he had found his salvation. He’d been so heat-addled that he’d forked over almost half his rupees for the getup, but the gamble had paid off; the guards hadn’t given him a second glance as he’d traipsed through the town entrance. 

He’s wandering amongst the merchants in the town square, still somewhat lightheaded but enjoying the sensation of silk against his skin, when he hears it.

Hero. 

Link pauses. Waits. Convinces himself it was just a trick of the wind. Then—

Hero.

Louder, this time. Closer. Link starts moving again, almost chasing it. The voice gets louder and louder until—

Hello, hero.

Link stares. Looks up at the merchant’s sign above the stall. And then back down to the source of the voice.

It’s a hydromelon. Dark green and a little bruised, set aside from the others, but somehow beckoning to him, the glint of the desert sun reflecting off its thick rind. Buy me, hero, it says, and Link shrugs and pulls out his money bag. 

“This one, please,” he says, pointing. 

“Ah,” the merchant says. “That one’s no good—fell off the cart this morning.” She reaches out for it. “Why don’t you—”

“No.” Link closes his hands over the melon in an inexplicable surge of protectiveness. “This one. How much?”

The Gerudo woman looks slightly taken aback at his enthusiasm. Then she says, “Sixteen rupees.”

Link frowns. “You said it was no good.”

“You want it that bad?” The merchant shrugs. “Seventeen rupees.” 

Link scowls, but tosses her a red gemstone and scoops the melon off the stand. “Keep the change.” 

The hydromelon now in his possession, Link is suddenly overcome by a dire need for privacy, and he hurries down a nearby alleyway. It feels nice in his hands, he thinks; warmed slightly by the sun on the surface, but still a slight chill emanates from within. It seems to pulse slightly, just like the Sheikah orbs. It must have a quest for him, he realises. 

“All right,” he says to the melon, once he’s alone. “Do you have something for me?”

Oh, yes, hero. I’ve waited for you for a very long time.

“Great,” Link says impatiently. “What do I need to do?”

I need you to take me, hero. 

“Take you where?”

No, hero. Take me. I’m nice and cool and wet inside. What better way to quench your thirst, hero?

Link warily holds the hydromelon at arms’ length. This is a joke. Someone has to be messing with him. Link looks around, but the alley is deserted. He levels his gaze at the melon again. 

“You want me to… eat you?” Link asks uncertainly.

Oh, no, hero. I don’t want to be inside you, the melon says. I want you inside me.

Oh. 

Oh, what the fuck. 

“No,” Link says. 

Take me, hero, the melon says, with a note of finality. Make me yours, and you will be rewarded.

And it falls silent, leaving Link feeling oddly abandoned, dressed in women’s clothing and slightly perturbed at having just been instructed by some higher power to boff a hydromelon. 

Link huffs, resigned. In his wealth of experiences, he’s had stranger requests from stranger sources and this is hardly complex. And he’s been following instructions from a voice in his head since the day he woke up, so… fine. Whatever. He shifts the weight of the hydromelon to one hand and pulls a knife from his belt with the other. 

It takes just a few moments to carve a hole that’s… roughly big enough. Link discards the excess, glances around again to ensure he’s alone, then shrinks back into the shadows as far as he can. 

“I must be out of my mind,” he mumbles, and tugs his sirwal down just far enough to free himself. 

He’s embarrassed to admit that it takes only a few quick tugs to get himself to full mast, but he supposes it has been a while. Checking one more time that he’s definitely alone, he lines himself up with the opening he sculpted and carefully eases inside.

His first thought is that it’s jarringly cold, and Link hisses a little with shock. He stills for a moment, trying to get used to the temperature and texture. It’s not a hand, or a mouth, or anything close to the warm embrace of another person, but it’s fine. Doable.

“Okay,” he breathes, “okay.” 

Hating himself a little, slightly disgusted with what he’s doing, he starts to thrust.

He moves slowly at first. The flesh of the fruit isn’t as soft as he’d like, but the more he moves, the easier it gets. It’s warming up a little from the friction and heat of his own body, and the juices actually feel pretty pleasant. It’s… nice, in a way. Almost refreshing. 

Link finds himself stifling a moan.

Okay. So maybe he isn’t hating this. Maybe the melon in his hands is roughly the shape and size of a person’s head, so maybe, if he closes his eyes and lets his mind wander, he can imagine the caress of soft lips and a warm tongue, the tightness of a throat swallowing around him, can imagine golden hair and green eyes and—

He moans out loud this time, hips rolling up, pushing himself further into the melon. There’s sticky juice all over him, leaking down and between his legs, but Link can’t bring himself to care. His head falls back against the wall, gasping under his veil. He feels hot all over, and not just from the desert sun; the heat is in his belly, his chest, the base of his spine. 

He’s open-mouthed and panting—short, high keening noises catching in his throat. It’s embarrassing just how loud and desperate he is, the circumstances of the release he’s currently chasing. This has gone beyond necessity, beyond imagining that his hips are flush against skin, something feral taken root in his body and mind that makes his pelvis snap forward so hard the rind begins to crack.

He’s found a steady rhythm now, any hesitation or misgivings gone, or maybe just lost in the pulse of blood through his body that both begins and ends at his groin. He’s getting close, thinking of a slim waist and generous hips, hair falling over one shoulder as she gets on her hands and knees, and he wonders—would she be this wet? Would she taste as sweet?

Link groans, thrusting forward with finality—one, two, three times—and feels himself go over. 

He spends himself inside the melon, shuddering and clutching it to him as he curls in on himself and moans. He leans back against the wall afterwards, chest heaving, his nipples peaked under the silk of his chemise, feeling warm and liquid and pleasant until he realises exactly what he’s done.

He’s already softening when he withdraws, making a small puddle of fruit juice and fluids at his feet. Grimacing at the mess and stickiness, Link pulls up his sirwal again, and has barely tucked himself away when the world starts to spin.

Everything around him is a haze of heat and colour, the desert sun suddenly much brighter than it was moments ago. He tries to steady himself against the wall, hand slapping uselessly against the sandstone, and as he stumbles the hydromelon slips from his grip—

—and smashes on the ground.

“No,” Link says weakly.

He crouches down and tries to piece it back together, but his previous efforts have effectively reduced the insides of the fruit to slush. He still feels dizzy, so he gives up, sitting on the ground with his head between his knees. 

So much for being rewarded. 

Link stays like that until the skin of his shoulders begins to prickle from sunburn and he starts to genuinely worry about resulting tanlines. He forces himself to his feet, casts one last look at the remains of the hydromelon, then guiltily abandons the mess and heads for the town square again. 

He sits in the shade by one of the fountains and splashes water on his face and chest, fighting lightheadedness and nausea. He must look worse than he thought because a kind-looking merchant brings him a small bag of ice and offers to sell him a chilly elixir. 

“I’ll be okay,” he says, gratefully taking the bag and pressing it to the back of his neck.��“Thanks for this, though. Sarqso, I mean.” 

The woman nods. “Take care of yourself. Heatstroke is lethal out here,” she says. “It can cause delirium—hallucinations and the like.”

Link pauses, remembering the voice. Remembering the promise of a reward. Remembering the hydromelon carcass probably currently baking in the desert sun. Trying to ignore the stickiness between his legs and the rush of hot disgust that curls in the pit of his belly. Hallucinations, he thinks. No kidding. 

“Actually—” He pulls out his money bag. “How much for that elixir?” 

[honestground]

So, um, I made a… thing

[honestground]

this is exactly what happens. he has to excuse himself to calm himself down and meets up with her again only to find her drinking a hydromelon juice and he can’t look her in the eye for days

the voice within the hydromelon was purposely left open to interpretation and i truly delight in the different directions people take it. if i suddenly vanish from the face of the internet let the hydromelink fic be my legacy 

[honestground]

Bro where is this infamous drawing of Link fucking a hydromelon. I can't find it and honestly it makes me upset lol

gotchu fam

[honestground]

lmao i just found a post where someone’s coloured the Original hydromelink fanart and right down the bottom of the comments there’s one that says “there’s a fan fiction about this”

[honestground]

this instagram reposts zelda art/posts from tumblr (usually with credit) and they’ve reposted a bunch of my stuff and i’m fucking losing it at these comments  (original image submitted by @autumnstwilight)

[honestground]

>:3 Commentary thingy: It takes just a few moments to carve a hole that’s… roughly big enough. Link discards the excess, glances around again to ensure he’s alone, then shrinks back into the shadows as far as he can. “I must be out of my mind,” he mumbles, and tugs his sirwal down just far enough to free himself.

you know what, i’m gonna do commentary for various scenes across the entire fic because i am proud of it, dammit. buckle up kids it’s gonna get weird

explicit melon-fucking and a lot of self-dragging under the cut

to start off, i got the original message (jokingly?) requesting hydromelink probably back in july. it had been sitting half-written in my drafts for months until i really decided i wanted to get it finished before the end of the year

The sky is blue, the sand is dry, and Gerudo Desert is sweltering.

After the long, arduous trek through the desert, being denied entry to Gerudo Town had been a heavy blow. Had he been hydrated enough to produce tears, Link thinks he might have cried—but as it was, he had trudged back to Kara Kara Bazaar and spent the rest of the morning lying in the shade with his shirt off, head spinning and begging the sky for rain.

It had been half boredom, half curiosity that had made him climb the ladder to the top of the bazaar, and it was there that he had found his salvation. He’d been so heat-addled that he’d forked over almost half his rupees for the getup, but the gamble had paid off; the guards hadn’t given him a second glance as he’d traipsed through the town entrance.

i actually really like this introduction. i like how it’s thorough but still concise. i’m also very pleased with the line “had he been hydrated enough to produce tears, Link thinks he might have cried”, and it’s the first instance of me trying to hint to the reader that Link is moving into the realm of heat exhaustion and just needs a fuckin drink  

[….] “This one, please,” he says, pointing.

“Ah,” the merchant says. “That one’s no good—fell off the cart this morning.” She reaches out for it. “Why don’t you—”

“No.” Link closes his hands over the melon in an inexplicable surge of protectiveness. “This one. How much?”

The Gerudo woman looks slightly taken aback at his enthusiasm. Then she says, “Sixteen rupees.”

Link frowns. “You said it was no good.”

“You want it that bad?” The merchant shrugs. “Seventeen rupees.”

i straight up love this interaction. just the merchant being like pfffft, tourist. 

[….] I need you to take me, hero.

“Take you where?”

No, hero. Take me. I’m nice and cool and wet inside. What better way to quench your thirst, hero?

i originally had some of the melon’s dialogue to be, “taste my juices, hero” but like. what the fuck, me. i can’t even tell if that’s worse anymore? maybe i should have included it. i don’t know. also this was the part where i gave up writing this all those months ago.

[….] Link huffs, resigned. In his wealth of experiences, he’s had stranger requests from stranger sources and this is hardly complex. And he’s been following instructions from a voice in his head since the day he woke up, so… fine. Whatever. He shifts the weight of the hydromelon to one hand and pulls a knife from his belt with the other. 

melon: fuck me and i’ll reward youLink, who has been following the instructions of disembodied voices and literal ghosts since he woke up from a century-long coma: sounds legit

It takes just a few moments to carve a hole that’s… roughly big enough. Link discards the excess, glances around again to ensure he’s alone, then shrinks back into the shadows as far as he can.

“I must be out of my mind,” he mumbles, and tugs his sirwal down just far enough to free himself.

“I must be out of my mind” — me during this entire writing process. 

He’s embarrassed to admit that it takes only a few quick tugs to get himself to full mast, but he supposes it has been a while.

this is so fucking funny to me holy shit. LINK WHY ARE YOU SO KEEN

[….] Okay. So maybe he isn’t hating this. Maybe the melon in his hands is roughly the shape and size of a person’s head, so maybe, if he closes his eyes and lets his mind wander, he can imagine the caress of soft lips and a warm tongue, the tightness of a throat swallowing around him, can imagine golden hair and green eyes and—

not-so-smoothly injecting some zelink in there. you know i had to do it to em

[….] This has gone beyond necessity, beyond imagining that his hips are flush against skin, something feral taken root in his body and mind that makes his pelvis snap forward so hard the rind begins to crack.

yasss boi take that melon to pound town. 

side note: i hate myself

[….] He’s getting close, thinking of a slim waist and generous hips, hair falling over one shoulder as she gets on her hands and knees, and he wonders—would she be this wet? Would she taste as sweet?

i think my soul must have left my body at this point

[….] He leans back against the wall afterwards, chest heaving, his nipples peaked under the silk of his chemise, feeling warm and liquid and pleasant until he realises exactly what he’s done.

don’t know why i so badly needed to specify his nipples were hard but?? 

He’s already softening when he withdraws, making a small puddle of fruit juice and fluids at his feet.

*ungodly screeching* 

[….] Everything around him is a haze of heat and colour, the desert sun suddenly much brighter than it was moments ago. He tries to steady himself against the wall, hand slapping uselessly against the sandstone, and as he stumbles the hydromelon slips from his grip—

—and smashes on the ground.

“No,” Link says weakly.

i honestly had no idea how to finish this fic. like what does one do after they fuck a melon? i ran through a bunch of endings, all of them with the melon going silent and Link realising that he dun goofed, before settling on the melon smashing

He crouches down and tries to piece it back together, but his previous efforts have effectively reduced the insides of the fruit to slush.

i wanna be reincarnated as this melon

side note: still hate myself

[….] “I’ll be okay,” he says, gratefully taking the bag and pressing it to the back of his neck. “Thanks for this, though. Sarqso, I mean.” 

placing ice bags on areas of the body where blood vessels are closest to the skin (i.e the neck, underarms, and groin) will provide faster relief for sufferers of heatstroke. the more u know. also it felt important to have Link speaking a little Gerudo here

The woman nods. “Take care of yourself. Heatstroke is lethal out here,” she says. “It can cause delirium—hallucinations and the like.”

Link pauses, remembering the voice. Remembering the promise of a reward. Remembering the hydromelon carcass probably currently baking in the desert sun. Trying to ignore the stickiness between his legs and the rush of hot disgust that curls in the pit of his belly. Hallucinations, he thinks. No kidding.

“Actually—” He pulls out his money bag. “How much for that elixir?”

HEATSTROKE. NOT EVEN ONCE.

thank god this is over i can’t believe i did this

[honestground]

last night I came across some fanart of Link in the vai outfit fucking a hydromelon and I've been crying for 8 hours

[honestground]

faq

where can i find you in the event that tumblr goes to shit entirely at this stage i have a twitter, AO3 and ko-fi.  

where can i read your writing i’d recommend checking out my masterlist for my better fics, but all my writing is tagged under terrible awful shit. i also have an AO3, which i tend to neglect. please heed the nsfw warnings!

do you take requests no, sorry! i am very tired all the time and have multiple WIPs i should focus on do you have any fic recs yep, check my fic recs tag. also Interim

why are you so obsessed with Interim why aren’t you so obsessed with Interim

age/sex/location mid 20s/female/australia

why do you only write smut

does your boyfriend know about your writing yes, he’s very supportive!

when did you start writing i started writing when i was about 8, wrote all through my teenage years, and then stopped entirely around 2011-2012 because of mental health nonsense. then breath of the wild happened and Fucked Up My Entire Shit, so here we are can i ask you for sex/relationship/mental health advice sure, but keep in mind i am not a professional and can only speak from my own experiences. i understand the appeal of emotionally unloading, but please consider whether seeking advice from a complete stranger on the internet is the right thing for your situation

have you ever thought about Link and Zelda [doing literally any sexual activity ever]  yes

will you write anything for TP zelink probably not, sorry

will you ever write a longfic i want to!! i’m just a very inconsistent writer and terrible at following a narrative

do you ship anything other than zelink i’m generally down with any consensual ship as long as it’s written believably. (specifically, sidlink is acceptable under very specific circumstances)

is there anything you specifically don’t ship tho Zelda/Urbosa. i can’t even imagine the kind of mental gymnastics it takes to justify shipping a 16 year old girl with her surrogate mother who’s canonically at least twice her age. don’t @ me

does that mean you ship zelgan in AU settings. see: A Tale of Two Rulers 

does that also mean you ship ganzelink read Interim and get back to me 

what was your first LoZ game/which LoZ games have you played first game was oot and i’ve played bits and pieces of wind waker and skyward sword, but breath of the wild is the only zelda game i’ve played through completely due to lack of consoles and time are there any other games you’re into i was pretty invested in Kingdom Hearts in my mid-late teens, less so now. i also have a deep love for Yoshi’s island for some reason

[miscellaneous headcanon question] my headcanons are super scattered but here’s the important/more popular ones:

do you think Link only remembered what we saw in the memories?/when did he realise that he loved Zelda?

Link’s life pre-calamity + how Link found the master sword

who did Link bang during the game? (nsfw) + how Zelda deals with jealousy, how Link deals with jealousy

is Link taller or shorter than Zelda?

does Zelda know how attractive she is?

how do the various zelinks like to cuddle?

who dies first? (sad)

Link’s Kinks™ (nsfw)

Link being romantic 

the Links ranked by penis size (nsfw)

most of my zelink hc’s are botw unless specified otherwise

other tags

asks

honestadvice (sex/relationship/life advice, sometimes nsfw)

wonderful incredible art (artwork other people have done for me) 

just the tip (writing advice, sometimes nsfw)

the good ship hydromelink (Link/Hydromelon nonsense, also nsfw)

i burn i pine i perish (royal guard uniform art. you’re welcome)

fic commentary (often nsfw)

Interim has its own tag because reasons

i tag long posts, nsfw, gore, and anything i think could be potentially triggering. if there’s something in particular you’re looking for i’d recommend utilising the search function

why didn’t you reply to my message asking about [headcanon] i either a) genuinely can’t think of anything so i’m saving it for later or b) am planning on using it in a fic and don’t want to give it away. sorry friend! shoot me a message off anon if you’d like to know which is the case. 

what do you look like hot garbage