#spriggy hands

[stedes-incredible-library]

hey there! thank you so much for this gem of a blog. I look forward to your posts. my fav type of fic is really tropey dubcon (think sex pollen / something made them do it / non con drug use, etc) where they both actually do want it so, even tho one always feel guilty, there’s a happy ending. do you have any recs along those lines? Thank you 💕

Hi Nonnie! You didn't specify a ship so we've included a variety. We're also not sure if you have read these before, because we started our hunt in some predictable tags (sex pollen, fuck or die, bad guys made them do it, etc). You didn't include omegaverse in your trope list, but some has been included here because heats provide a lot of fodder for this type of dubcon. The dubious-ness of the consent varies in the fics listed here so please read with care and attention to ships, summary, and tags for content. There is also our previous dub con rec list to review from back in August!

Pollen Season by Dracothelizard [E], 8k

An exploration mission Stede goes on with Roach and Lucius goes terrible wrong.

Or terribly right.

The Fucking Tea by Dracothelizard [E], 21k

Calico Jack gives Stede some aphrodisiac tea and leaves to shore with the rest of the Revenge crew, whoever can possibly help Stede with his unbridled horniness?

(It's Ed.)

Unnamed mutual noncon (Ed/Stede) by Dracothelizard [E], 686

This is a ficlet that ends before anything explicit occurs, and therefore before there's any chance to discuss and come to a true happy ending. There are a few other dubcon ficlets in this collection - sift through and proceed with attention to the chapter titles.

We Do Not Follow Maps to Buried Treasure by CartoonMayor (aka @zombee) [E], 5.6k

Stede is taking Ed on another treasure hunt to some supposed sea god's cave.

Things do not go as planned.

Let your yes be yes by emzash [E], 3.9k

Can’t we talk about this?” Stede asks, like there are any words that exist to solve this problem.

“What the fuck, no we can’t talk about it,” Ed says. “I need you. You’re here. Can we just get on with it?”

“You need me now,” Stede tells him. “But what about when your heat is over? What then?”

“You can leave me again straight after,” Ed says, refusing to let the hurt surface over the desperate need in his body. “Don’t worry Stede. I don’t expect anything else."

Do You Need Anybody by sinuous_curve [E], 4.6k

Heat catches Ed by surprise as a cramp that cuts him deep down in the pit of his belly.

Ed does not need a helping hand. Stede's offering anyway.

lord, my body has been a good friend by mtothedestiel [E], 4.6k

Stede is like a walking nest.

A Push, A Shove by LeatherCropTop [E], 25k

Stede was never particularly good at being an alpha. He thinks of himself as others always have, a worthless, incapable excuse for an alpha. After he meets Ed, that starts to change. The two of them fall in love, circling each other for days on end, but neither of them makes a move. Then Stede's behavior begins to change in a way like never before, unbeknownst to himself. The alpha instincts begin to trickle out until, like the flick of a switch, he suddenly goes feral.

Even for an alpha like Stede, turning feral is ravenous and being anywhere near them is dangerous, but the only way for a feral alpha to go back to normal is for them to mate and if the alpha doesn't mate in time, they will die. Ed isn't going to let Stede die.

who would trade that hum of night by CyborgShepard [E], 8.8k NOTE: not quite a fully happy ending, but not not

He’d thought the boy dead. Was glad for it, for a time, too. Murdering is one thing, but this — what’s happened to Spriggs now — it doesn’t sit right with Izzy.

He can imagine how he’d spluttered his thanks, wheezing up half the Atlantic like he was wringing a cloth, when Calabran’s lot fished him out of the water. He can imagine how Spriggs would’ve said it all, in that lilting, dour way. He might’ve demanded a blanket, or a berth, or water. Can imagine that he didn’t stay thankful for all too long after. 

It’s not sentiment, Izzy tells himself. 

release in sodomy (one sweet moment) by calicojackofficial [E], 3.3k NOTE: happy ending somewhat author's note reliant

The crew of the Revenge gets captured and during an interrogation attempt, Edward gets dosed with a sex pollen serum. That's not what they meant to do, so the guards lock Ed up with a bound and helpless Izzy. Izzy gets something he's always wanted but could never ask for. For as long as it lasts.

soft spot (for hard stuff) by bitethehands [E], 1.9k

“He’s much sweeter like this,” Stede is saying, even though Ed’s clearly not listening, “isn’t he?”

Ed has given him no indication of anything even marginally close to recognition in several minutes, now, because he’s been busy staring. Staring at Izzy, who so far doesn’t seem necessarily aware that Ed’s even here. It’d almost be normal, the strangeness of his being in Stede’s cabin aside. Except he’s naked and blushing from head to toe.

the promise of the joker and the fool by @thesoulundone [E], 7.1k

He's here, in a shitty little tavern, in a shitty little corner, drinking liquor that burns all the way down, stoking the fire he's already got burning in his belly. He's sitting on the other side of the table to Jack - Jack, who's got his arm slung casually around Izzy's shoulders. All Ed can think about, the persistent thudding pulse of his brain, is getting in between them.

Izzy. Izzy who's a fucking omega, revelation of the fucking year. Izzy, whose second heat aboard ship had been just as unpleasant as the first, who'd barely come out of it when they made port, whose dark-ringed eyes and stiff movement made Ed's fingers itch with the need to tear someone's throat out about it. Izzy, who's wearing a fucking collar now; shiny, good quality leather, wide and thick and cleverly made, though the craftsmanship doesn't do anything to disguise the fact that it's locked shut.

Let us know if you enjoyed this list! Did we skip your favorite tropey happily-ever-after dubcon? Chime in!

As always, please let the authors know that you enjoyed their fics with kudos and comments.

~Mod A

[lorstone]

I was prepared for the beautiful, heartbreaking love story between Stede and Ed thanks to the gifs and videos on here.

But WHERE was my warning for THIS???

“You've been a proper little seductress, haven't you?”

“…You ever been sketched?”

Con O’Neill’s voice. The flirty confidence of Nathan Foad’s Lucius. The power in his head tilt as Izzy glowers up at him, gaze fixed on lips and eyes. Their chemistry!!!

Haven’t been the same since.

Lucius takes Izzy’s half baked attempt to stir up trouble between him and Pete, and realises he has the power. This stroppy sexy little gremlin of a man wants him. So Lucius sends him scampering away with his tail between his legs.

You love to see it.

[fierykitten2]

If my Violet aces were a band they’d probably have a similar composition (that’s not the word I’m looking for. Instrument distribution?) to Iron Maiden (heh, ironic given four of their species names begin with Iron) - Char sings because she can’t really do much else with blade for hands, Orange thinks electric guitars are cool (they are), Knight’s blades can transform into an electric guitar because I said so (it plays a left-handed guitar), Spriggie plays electric guitar too probably for a similar reason to Orange, Cherry plays base guitar because reasons idk and Passionfruit plays drums

[dragonmuse]

Fic Complete: Credit for Experience

Chapter 2.  Our Flag Means Death. Israel Hands/Lucius Spriggs. Modern AU.

Did you do something? I just got a delivery of the world’s most over the top fruit basket. I’ve never seen so many pears in my life. A truly obscene amount of kiwis. From Teach. The note says ‘Sorry about the near death experience, but hey at least now you know if god is real or not. Let me know. P.S. he goes by Hands, but you gotta watch out for the mouth.’ Is she mocking me, you, or apologizing? All three? Asking sincerely. I have no idea how to react and I got the impression that you know her pretty well.

[sidetongue]

oh I would die for Sprig ❤️ I love Irish setters and would totally own one but they’re so rare where I live!

They’re not very popular where I am either! I’ve only ever seen a handful and never a field line. I’m very lucky to have the Spriggy man!

[water-pokemon-appreciator]

Alrighty, you can stay as Spriggys for a bit then lol.

M!Anon: ...A bit of the blanket shifts a lil bit. Like a hand a skittering around under it to see if you're tempted to pounce.

[He TRIES to pounce, but hes stuck in the blanket and therefore cant do anything]

[msm-tsotmw]

So . Uhm .

I’ve Been Knocking On The Door To Where Sprigg Is Staying For Over An Hour Now , And They’re STILL Not Answering . What Are They Doing , Sleeping ?? Wait , They Don’t Usually Do That …

hey uhh toors

Huh ?

(Toorie turns around to face Mondo, who is crossing their arms.)

Oh ! Mondo ! Heeeyyyy !

uh hi

wtf are you doing

Uh .

(Toorie looks back at the door.)

So , Uh , Sprigg Has Been In That Room For The Past Few Days , And Even Though I’ve Been Knocking For An Hour , They Still Haven’t Answered .

huh

uh wait lemme try

Alright .

(Toorie steps aside to make way for Mondo. He starts knocking on the door.)

ey sprigg open up

(No answer.)

sprigg

(Still no answer.)

why arent they answering

I Don’t Know . Maybe We Should Try Something El-

(Mondo pounds on the door.)

hey open tf up this isnt funny

Mondo ! They Might Be-

*CRASH!*

(Mondo has… somehow kicked down the door. Don’t ask me why, Mammotts are just built like that here.)

Uh .

SPR-

oh

(Toorie was right. Sprigg is doing what they barely ever do: sleep. That’s right, get some aCTUAL FUCKING SLEEP. However, they have visibly dark eye bags and EXTREMELY shaggy fur, and they forgot to take their glasses off. They are lying on the ground in front of what looks like a detective’s board, snoring and drooling.)

Oh . I Was Right . They’re … Sleeping .

Huh ! Weird . They’re Not The Type Of Monster To Do That …

should we wake them up

Um , Probably ?? They Seem Like They’ve Been Sleeping Since , I Don’t Know-

3 A.M.

(Mondo and Toorie awkwardly look at each other.)

oh uh sorry

Nonono , No Need To Apologize ! I-

(The two of them incomprehensibly talk over each other.)

…

…

sorry uhhhhh

ill just

wake them up

Okay .

(Mondo walks up to the sleeping Sprigg.)

sprigg

ZZZzzzzzz…

yo

spriggy azalea

What ??

its the name of a human world rapper apparently

Oooookaaaaaayy …

ZZZzzzzzz…

well they leave me no choice

Wh

What Do You Mean

(Mondo cracks his knuckles and stands up ominously.)

What Are You Doing ??

(Mondo lays one hand on Sprigg… then does the same with the other, picks them up, and then violently shakes them, causing their glasses to fall off.)

SPRIGG WAKE THE FUCK UP

MONDO !

GAH!

oh good theyre awake

(Mondo places Sprigg back on the floor, sitting.)

Wha—huh..? Mondo?? Toorie???

You Dropped Your Glasses , By The Way .

Oh. Thanks, Toorie.

No Problem !

anyways whats that shit behind you

*yawn* What??

the board

(Sprigg turns around to face the detective board they put together in a span of a couple of days.)

Uh…

It all started with some piece of paper that looked like some ripped off part of a blueprint. It was REALLY hard for me to comprehend, then I figured: “Hey, why not have someone else figure it out?”

Then I completely forgot about that and started to figure it out myself. And now, well… here I am.

Anyways, what time is it???

Ummm …

(Toorie glances at a clock.)

7 , Almost 8 .

Damn, how long have I been sleeping?!

few hours apparently

nvm make that uh

almost 17 hours apparently

…Doesn’t sound like me.

but it was you

(Sprigg rolls their eyes, puts their glasses on, and stands up.)

Where are the others?

Outside .

Oh. Okay. Uh, just give me a couple of minutes… you two wait for me.

Alright !

k then

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

that’s right

to make up for Sprigg’s terrifying lack of sleep I made them sleep for:

💥17💥HOURS��

anyways uh yeah. yeah umm Sprigg being a sleep deprived nerd

-Mod Jimmy 🗣️

[chacolachao]

Hu yes it's me Spriggy I realized when I first got the pdf from your kofi shop I mistyped my fuckign email,,,,,, head in hands if you got a double notification that's why lksjdlsdf enjoy the measly 10 cents it's literally all I had left :p

omg thankyou but also oml you dont have to put in any money to dl it XDDD but thank you all the same

[corndoggod]

The Future of Brooklyn

Gliding backwards up the drowsy Hudson, so wide and slow, retreating from New York where it mouths the Atlantic, swallowing chemicals and commerce and the ocassional paddler. It’s mother’s day and I’m off to White Plains, flowers in hand, heart full, thinking of mother in the Great Plains.  

I’ve been listening to a mammoth biography of Ulysses S. Grant on long bike rides in recent weeks so the train attendant becomes a civil war officer in union blue with spriggy mutton chops. I tell everyone his middle initial of S, creating a comic U.S. Grant, was the result of a clerical error when he enrolled in West Point, which lies on the other side of the Hudson. I listen while biking and every hour of tape is also 15 miles of concrete. Grant had a head for math but not paperwork. He liked horses but not people. By the end of the book I’ll have ridden at least 750 miles. I’m sure my Mom, an American history teacher, and my Dad, a voracious reader with a penchant for war history, have both already read Chernow’s biography of Grant. 

The kinetics of trains activates some tongue inside me. Same for cycling and running. Motion loosens language. 

*****

It has been a tremendous weekend, a healthy, balanced weekend. Sav came to visit and stayed overnight. I watched the end of the Knicks game as she and C jawed and made risotto. Polished my beer and out the door to meet Nicky for another at Sycamore where I bump into a small press editor I worked for in Chicago. We’ve lived in the same neighborhood for years, but have only seen each other a handful of times. We made plans to get a drink Monday. 

Nicky and I go to Mia’s house party and scope out her new spot deep in Brooklyn. Newkirk deep. The lobby is gutted and scarred by fireworks, but there’s ample bike storage. This is the future of New York. A lonely future I lived in for seven years before the market caught up. 

*****

We woke up at a reasonable hour Saturday and took our coffee in the park, looping Sav in on our petition to ban dogs from Brower. Once grassy, the park is now balding, revealing tiny shards of glass and micro plastics, which can and will kill you with enough exposure. 

I retreated back to my desk to promote a story about Trump’s tax audit which could cost him $100 million. I hoped the story would get 100 million page views. 

C went to meet her mom and sister at The Met and I biked up to do laps in Central on standby until they were ready for lunch. The sun was illusory and I never did warm up in my short sleeves no matter how hard I pedaled. (Plus, my legs were still wiped from two days earlier when I ran 8 miles in the morning and banged out a quick 25 after work cycling around Prospect. It was the only way to vanquish my demons.) Worse still the weak sun attracted New Yorkers to Central’s green sanctuary like moths to a flame. There were horse carriages clopping and pooping, blind bike caddies, lazy eyed tourists, indexed runners going long and hordes of pedestrians abusing crosswalks lighting up my path with red, red, red. 

I stopped after two laps. I never stop but it was warmer when idle and the crowds were too annoying and sometimes it’s good to be still and really listen. I found a slab of black rock and read about Justice Clarence Thomas complaining about the “horrible lies” hounding him that just won a Pulitzer Prize. 

Mediocre thai for lunch, but hunger is the best sauce. The calories gave me a second wind and I decided to hit 50 and beelined to Prospect to round out the final 12 miles. Turning home, I noticed the statue on the little island between Rogers/Bedford and Dean/Bergen is of Grant on horseback. 

*****

I was running on fumes by then but we had tickets to go see a saxophonist in Greenwood Cemetery after dark. It turned out to be one of the most incredible performances I’ve seen in one of my favorite New York spots. 

I didn’t fully appreciate Colin Stetson’s genius until the second to last song when he explained he didn’t use any looping pedals. Instead he relied on circular breathing to deliver constant sound, as well as mics on his throat to magnify whale-like moans and a couple more on his sax for percussive finger taps and slaps. The result was eerie, hypnotic and cinematic. Everything felt deserving of a slow zoom in, which only felt appropriate from the man who scored Hereditary. 

We lounged for most of the set, huddling under blankets against the 50 degree chill, but we crowded the stage for the last song. Up close you could see his massive arms grip the sax, and his throat and mouth balloon like a veiny bagpipe. The kids in front of us lost their minds and edged toward moshing but stopped short of freefalling. 

Overgrown, quiet, moonlit: it was all the more special in Greenwood, which is maybe my favorite spot in all of Brooklyn. We lingered after and walked around the cemetery, encircling a pond through lucioius grass and aged stone. It felt like high school.

[ajmakoko]

Yo fellow long haired autistics, trimming all the damaged hair is an excellent stim fyi. I've replaced nail biting with it and it works pretty well because I'm so tactile, and what I like about nail biting is that it smoothes out ridges and coarseness and bumps - so does trimming my hair! And I can feel it with my hands and find it which is super satisfying.

I can now feel the difference between different types of heat damage, pony tail damage, a tiny knot in 1 hair, a split end or split hair (feels fuzzy like cotton balls). Tangles in my hair are a good sign there's damaged hair, and since tangles annoy me and hurt, I love removing the damaged parts of the hair responsible. It works best to first feel the different types of healthy hairs (I have some hairs that are grey, thinner, etc and their texture all feels different) and then look at the hairs that feel different from the healthy ones.

Now my hair is sooooo soft! And it's still the same length and actually looks fuller because the fluffy, dry spriggy pieces aren't there.

[fierykitten2]

My very futuristic picnic feat Santa’s weird attempting to run but being unable to decide if it actually wants to run (or rather sledge), Sumo and Flame being chaotic and a conversation between Celeste and Sierra

Also Techno is one sleepy robot

Also me discovering that unlike the other Future Paradox Pokémon who instantly turn off their lights, an Iron Bundle flashes its lights when it goes into sleep mode

[dragonmuse]

Fic Complete: Dearest Stranger

Dearest Stranger.  Our Flag Means Death. Izzy Hands/Lucius Spriggs.

A story told in letters.  AU: 1890s, bookshop. Written for the XOXO Spriggy Romance Challenge.

I am not of any kind of magic persuasion, just a man with some excellent thighs, and more vocabulary than sense. I have been called adorable on occasion, and in my younger years winsome. Bewitching, never.  

[beatle4-11]

@dragonmuse It is finally done, a little Lucius × Izzy done in the Detective Noir Book Cover Style (or as close as I could get lol)

[and-fishing-equipment]

petition for season 2 lucius to draw izzy like one of his french girls i mean one of his french girls i mean one of his french girls i mean-

[internerdionality]

Okay! I'm finally starting to post the 100K Spriggy fic I've been working on for the past three months! Super excited and nervous to share it with y’all! 

Chapters: 1/21 Fandom: Our Flag Means Death (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Izzy Hands/Lucius Springs, Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Israel Hands, (pre-ship) Characters: Izzy Hands, Lucius Spriggs, Blackbeard | Edward Teach, Jim Jimenez, Frenchie (Our Flag Means Death), Fang (Our Flag Means Death), Ivan (Our Flag Means Death), ONBC, Mark Read, Anne Bonny Additional Tags: Post-Canon, enemies-to-lovers, Slow Burn, Dubious Consent, Canon-Typical Violence, Homophobia, Toxic Masculinity, Ableism, Misogyny, (all both externalized and internalized), Mental Illness, Self-Hatred, Suicide Attempt, Seriously y’all Izzy’s head is a dark place so caveat lector, but it gets better, the whole fic really isn’t as dark as that all made it sound but it has its moments for sure, Hurt/Comfort, Exploring the Power of Nautical Metaphors in Lieu of Therapy, Sub Izzy Hands, Pain Slut Izzy Hands, Unsafe BDSM, Undernegotiated Kink, Not Safe Sane and Consensual, Dom Lucius Spriggs, Topping from the Bottom, Also Topping from the Top, No character bashing, Angst with a Happy Ending, FYI the BlackHands is all UST and violence, all the smut is Spriggy, no reunion scene, (it’ll come in the sequel tho), NOT tagging GentleBeard since Stede doesn’t show up until the epilogue, but they’re obviously in love, open-ended ending, secondary nonbinary character, secondary genderfluid character, Author is not an Izzy Hands Apologist, Izzy knows what he did, but I am kinda obsessed with our little goblin man, and so is everyone else in this fic Summary: “Oh, Izzy,” Lucius breathed. “We’re going to have such fun together.” Lucius’ conscience and his libido thundered at him, the angel and the demon on his shoulders, and he mentally glared the former into submission. Nonetheless, as Izzy arched and moaned under his touch, Lucius couldn’t help but try to give the first mate an out. “If you really, truly want me to stop—” Lucius started, then felt his lips widen wickedly as an idea came to him, “—say ‘Stede.’”

[internerdionality]

Mwah-ha-ha. Your chinchilla get a little nibbled, there, Lucius?

In which Izzy's snake makes a play for Lucius's chinchilla.

(Yes, I know that sounds like a euphemism. No, I have no idea what a "chinchilla" would be in that context. I leave it to your horrible imaginations.)

I gave Izzy a Suriname red-tail boa, since that's the kind of snake I used to have.