#i love how abbie saved herself and then ichabod

[mantra4ia]

"Incident at Stone Manor" has ended me.

I am beyond pleased that Abbie saved herself, then Ichabod. I am amazed that Ichabod grasps at Abbie’s hand as if to confirm that she is real. I am on the edge of my seat that she is his “other half” (as stated by Pandora) and soul’s tether. And I am infuriated by that final chess reference sans declaration of eternal kinship - this close to leveling up the witness relationship game!

That is all.

[my-chemical-mermaid]

10 for the salty asks! you can pick whatever arc from wherever i am just here for the salt >:]

10: Most Disliked Arc

BUCKLE UP

Nobody cares about Sleepy Hollow anymore and rightfully so for what they did to their BLACK FEMALE LEAD.

I'm still salty. I'm not going into the specifics of the plot here. Basically Sleepy Hollow was a show that initially was praised for having multiple main characters of color including Abbie Mills who was one of two PROTAGONISTS.

The show paid SO MUCH lip service to the fact that these two leads were inseparable, not in just a relationship way but in a cosmic way. Like the plot depended on the two of them being partners, of equal importance. A matched set.

But by the end of the 3rd season Abbie Mills was largely sidelined in favor of the white male lead in Ichabod Crane (we're not going to talk about the major ship-baiting that went on in this show).

She ended up sacrificing herself to save him and the world and the show walked back on everything it had built up to that point. She wasn't equally important anymore. She was just a stepping stone in Ichabod's larger journey. They even went so far as to have her say it.

It was such bad writing, you could just feel how much the writers didn't give a fuck about this beloved character.

I'm livid just thinking about it. I loved Abbie Mills and they did her so dirty. And then had the gall to think their 4th season would work without her.

I'll always be salty for how downhill that show went.

[theresnosafeharbor4myships]

TITLE: Sleepy Holloween, Part 2

A/N: Muse unexpectedly decided Ichabbie’s Halloween story needed to continue, so here we are with more floof and cutesyness. Part 1 found here.  Also on AO3.

Abbie poured the leftover candy into a Ziploc bag to take to the office in the morning, thinking over the day as her Captain rinsed out their wine glasses and left them to soak in the sink. Quite a few years had passed since she'd squeezed so much Halloween celebrating into one day. The jack-o-lantern carvings, the pumpkin seed and cookie baking, passing out candy while sipping a nice Merlot, showing Hocus Pocus to Ichabod for the first time. Which reminded her... "You know...I really thought you'd relate to the movie more," she mused aloud. Ichabod snatched the towel from the oven handle and faced her as he dried his hands. "Oh?" She nodded, then motioned for him to follow her. "Yeah, there are a lot of things I thought you might empathize with." She opened the front door and pointed to the fiery jack-o-lanterns adorning their porch steps. "We need to put these out," she explained. "By my recollection, you only allowed me three grievances," he recalled, pausing to follow her lead and blow out a candle inside of one of the pumpkins. "And no discussion with which to further detail my deeper sentiments about it and the many aspects that reminded me of myself." She put out another candle. "My apologies, Captain," she demurred. "I'd very much..." She extinguished the last candle with a puff of air. "…like to hear your thoughts on the ways you identified with Hocus Pocus." He held the front door open for her, and she went back inside, him following closely behind. He locked the deadbolt, then stood at military attention, a fine seamen specimen if she'd ever seen one.

"Are you referring to how I resemble Master Butcherson, who was called out of his grave by some witch's spell into a world that couldn't possibly comprehend what that experience is like?" Abbie heard the seriousness hidden in his self-deprecation but couldn't resist teasing him. "Aww, come on, babe, you look infinitely better than Billy Butcherson did. Your centuries sleeping did a body good." 

Her flirtatious gaze traveled from his sailor-capped head to his booted feet, and he watched her perusal of him, prepared to counter her move. "You get no points for that one," he scolded. "Even as a benevolent soul, the man was a walking, rotted corpse with moths festering in his mouth."

"My point exactly: I definitely wouldn't've kissed him! But you..." She reached for him, one hand curling around the back of his neck, drawing him down to kiss her briefly before she moved away. He stared longingly after her but continued the conversation. "Then perhaps you meant I'm like the Sanderson sisters." Noting the intent to tease him written on her face, he threw his finger up in the air. "Not in purpose or lack of intellect or gender," he rushed to indicate before she had a chance to cut in, "or—again—re-emergence because of a witch's spell, but in their struggle to understand the modern world, even with supernatural forces and a guidebook in their arsenal." Abbie hadn't considered that angle and smiled indulgently at him. "Fair. Though you've done considerably better than those three. Combined." He dipped his head once in thanks, then continued. "May I also present my resemblance to young Master Binx." "An old, mangy, black-for-bad-luck cat?" Her disgusted look morphed into something sultry. "Ohh, or the knowledgeable pussycat of a relic who wants nothing more than to protect the people he cares about from evil?" She slid her hand from his shoulder to his wrist as she strutted by him, heading towards the stairs. "Madam, I'll have you know—” "Mistress," she corrected him, throwing a flirty look over her shoulder. She wanted to play now, did she? His gaze turned predatory, and he slowly trailed her up the stairs, several steps behind. "Mistress..." he repeated dutifully. She'd reached the second floor landing and turned to face him. "Yes, Captain?" His foot froze mid-step as he drank in the sight of her regal air, fetching dress, petite frame, innocent smile. His beautifully stunning wife who'd procured a costume just for him that had taunted him all night. He promptly lost all train of thought. Abbie saw his eyes glaze over as he stood in awe of her. At least the feeling was mutual. She'd just had a lot more practice at open flirtation than he had and could still function while stunned by him. She waited a moment, indulging in his open attraction to her, before helping him out. "So far, you've compared yourself to a zombie, a trio of witches, and a cursed cat." His eyes narrowed at her as she amusedly reduced his comparisons to their most basic elements. "While you clearly don't think that highly of yourself, I, my dear one, do. Would you like me to tell you who I think you resemble, Captain?" "Most assuredly," he affirmed, holding himself in check a few moments longer. "Have you considered that you're most like Max, the hero of the tale? A gentleman who finds himself in the same country but a new place that doesn't quite feel like home? Interested in a woman who doesn't know what to make of him at first?" Her voice turned dramatic as she continued. "He's harassed by the locals as he tries to find his way in the world, gets wrapped up in something he didn't know could be true, then fights like hell to protect himself, his family, the world, and the woman he loves from evil—not to mention witches—bent on destroying them. And in the end, he saves them all. And gets the girl he's pined after and loves." She dramatically clasped her hands over her heart with a flourish. His eyes never leaving hers, he recovered only enough to move towards her, slowly stalking her again. "You think I'm the hero, do you?" A contented, sweet smile breaks over her face as she walks backwards at his same pace, the sight of him in his sailor's costume trailing after her making her heart beat fast. "Ummhmm."

"And the girl..." "A ravishing beauty," she stated cheekily, throwing the back of her hand up to her forehead in a fainting pose. "Never disputed." His eyes wantonly swept over her as she continued playfully leading him towards their bedroom, the colonial gown far less revealing than her normal wear and all the more tantalizing for it. "Strong and intelligent and wildly brave...a heroine in her own right." "Undoubtedly," she agreed as her back connected with the bedroom door. She absently reached for the doorknob and twisted it, flipping on the bedroom light as she continued backing away from him. "Deserving of some kind of reward, I'd say." "As much as her Captain deserves a warm hero's welcome." He turned off the hallway light as he entered the bedroom, the shadows and light playing deliciously over his devilishly handsome features, his eyes gleaming in anticipation. "If that's all he wants..." Abbie stopped in the middle of the room, waiting for him to reach her. "That's only the beginning," he promised with a low growl as he approached her. "I seem to recall..." He ran the backside of his finger along her cheek, soft and cool to the touch, dropping his hand to her collarbone and running his fingertips across her bare skin as he prowled around her. "Telling you..." His hand never leaving her, his touch trailed heat across the back of her neck. "How I couldn't wait to take this off of you." His whispered breath teased over the skin beneath her ear, the sensuality of it heightened because she couldn't see him, didn't know what to expect next. Still, he barely touched her, his fingers slowly grazing their way around her shoulder and back to her collarbone as he completed his rotation around her. She peered up at him heatedly, anticipating, yearning for his next move. 'Crane on the brain,' she'd called it once--and had had it ever since. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, satisfaction and desire written on his face, and he leaned down towards her. She tipped her head up, craving his kiss and everything that came after it, but he stopped a hair's-breath from touching his maddening lips to hers. "How does that sound?" he whispered, tantalizing her with his breath against her lips instead of his mouth. "Exquisite," she breathed on a sigh, willing herself to wait for him to ravish her. She was on the edge, as was he—she could feel it. She wouldn't have to wait long. "Enticing. Hot." He couldn't wait any longer, silencing her with his lips, gently at first, then more insistently as she drew his hat off his head, dropped it to the floor, and ran her fingers through his hair. She moaned, and the sound her passion vibrated through him, his hands roaming down her sides and hips to then splay across her back, drawing her into him. His hands set her ablaze, and she expected him to make light work of the dress since he'd wanted to divest her of it all night. Instead, he lingered, his kiss ardent and sensual, his touch exploratory and slow. He reached for the back of her dress where the stays were...should be. His fingers found a zipper instead. "Mm, how very modern," he murmured appreciatively as he withdrew from her, again moving behind her. Abbie waited, senses alert, body tingling, wondering what his clever mind and hands had in store for her.

His finger traced her skin along the back neckline of her dress, sending gooseflesh racing up and down her spine. He kissed her neck, and her head fell to the side, allowing him more access.

“Tell me,” he whispered near her ear. “What does a hero’s welcome look like?”

She eased away from him only far enough to turn around. “Like this.” She collided with him, pressing against him, drawing him down to kiss her as together they moved towards the bed. She felt the corded muscles of his arms and shoulders, his back, his leanness belying his strength.

As they reached the bed, Abbie laid her hand flat against his chest, and he let her push him lightly, falling to his seat He reached for her, his hands gripping her waist as he peered up at her and the satisfied look on her face.

“Do all captains receive this treatment?” he queried.

“Not from me. But you’re lucky.” She winked at him, threading her hands through his hair, mesmerized by her forever-military man.

“Well…not yet,” he smirked at her with a lifted eyebrow.

"If the boat's a'rockin..."

He gave her a questioning look, but she shook her head. “Nevermind, Captain. Just kiss me.”

“As you wish, Mistress.” And he did.

[dgcatanisiri]

For the love of...

Look. Let’s address the obvious first off: Fandom has problems with women. We all know this. We also know that “has problems” is putting matters rather mildly.

That is a fine premise. Plenty to go on from there.

What is NOT a fine follow up is defending the idea that “fandom hates women” by pointing to the reaction to R*ylow. Because that entire ship? That is a dumpster fire in its own right even before getting to the whole dust up where, because of him making a harmless joke about sex, specifically his character in Star Wars and Rey, another fictional character in Star Wars, having sex, there’s a movement within that group to discredit and tear down John Boyega. 

Like, we’ll get to that business in a bit. But let’s address the fact that the majority of R*ylows are shipping CHARACTERS THAT ARE NOT SHOWN. 

The whole business of this ship is to use Rey to “redeem” “Ben Solo,” a character who metaphorically killed himself in TFA through the literal killing of his father. The two meetings of Rey and Kylo Ren in TFA were first him rendering her unconscious and kidnapping her, and then her attempting to kill him for his murder of Han Solo and attack of Finn - killing her mentor and attacking her friend.

But those who ship this transplant the characteristics that defined Finn onto Kylo Ren, who they refer to as Ben Solo, a name he rejects until about the last hour of the most recent movie. They make him into a tortured character who is tragically torn between the light and the dark, has not made a decision on where he stands and needs to be pulled back. EXCEPT Kylo Ren was introduced ordering the slaughter of an innocent village - a slaughter that Finn refused to participate in. 

All of this is, let’s not mince words, based off the fact that Kylo Ren is a white man and Finn is a black man. Because we saw, back before TFA released, a heaping TON of abuse hurled towards him purely for BEING a black man - I remember vividly all the anti-blackness going around when we had no more than a trailer for the sequel trilogy. 

I am not - let me repeat this NOT - shaming anyone, male, woman, enby, whatever you identify as, for wanting the narrative of “saving the monster.” As a queer person, yeah, I get that, considering that a lot of my narratives growing up that I can identify with have all kinds of queercoding throughout them, even when involving straight pairings. But the defining difference has always been that in those stories, the monster wanted to be accepted as a person. TFA gave us a monster who chose to be monstrous.

And TLJ only added into this narrative - Rey refused to join Kylo. ONCE AGAIN, he spurned her offers of coming back to the light, choosing to take the leadership of the First Order. We also saw in flashback that he chose to respond to Luke briefly flirting with the idea of killing him by BURNING THE ACADEMY TO THE GROUND. Whatever you want to say about Luke’s moment of weakness, that is definitely overreacting, that is taking out your pain on innocent others.

TRoS even brings this to a conclusion, a similar one to the redemption of Anakin Skywalker, being unable to live in the world that he saved, that no act he could do could balance the scales to allow him to be a part of that world, considering the deaths and pain at his hands in specific.

So that - THAT - is who Kylo Ren was on screen.

The R*ylow version of him, however, is some scared teenager/young adult, who has been ignored, emotionally neglected by his parents, nearly murdered by his uncle, and drowning in the darkness, in need of a rope.

The canon version of him, to sum up, is a roughly thirty-ish adult man, raised by loving parents who had a galaxy to rebuild and couldn’t devote every second to him, his uncle had a moment of weakness where he pointed a weapon at who he perceived as a threat (I can give this, or I would, had Kylo stayed and even TRIED to get answers, but the indications are that he ran and proceeded to destroy the academy), and at every turn gave in to the darkness until his mother gives her life to drag him back to the light side.

I don’t care what your fantasy is, what bothers me is the ignoring and VERY HIGHLY SELECTIVE reinterpreting of the on screen material to justify this idea of Kylo Ren being a broken and abused bird in need of kindness. Because on screen, he spurns all the kindness he gets until Leia sacrifices herself. And THAT I only accept because of the filming limitations of Carrie Fisher’s last content.

And then we return to the issue of this backlash to John Boyega’s tweets. All of this is because he made a joke about sex, implicitly his character and Rey - the character that R*ylows have designated “belongs” to Kylo - having sex. And this has led to him being harassed (and not for the first time, because TFA did seem to be building to something between Rey and Finn), and by these same people.

We led with “fandom has problems with women.” This? This is “fandom hates black people.” And “fandom REALLY hates interracial couples.”

Like, take a stroll through AO3. How often do you see interracial M/F couples in the top of the listing of pairings? About the only serious example I can come up with off the top of my head is Sleepy Hollow and Ichabod/Abbie, which ended up never being canon. Because of the white showrunners and producers getting cold feet about it and deciding to repeatedly throw white women at Ichabod while continually sidelining Abbie until her actress finally decided to leave - given that she hadn’t even been invited to be part of the special features for the season two DVDs, and the fact that she’d already gotten reduced to the sidekick on a show where she should have been the lead.

Or even on a show where a non-white man is the lead - let’s look at Teen Wolf for another fine example. The show’s lead was a Latino teenager. The favored fandom pairing involves two white guys who, the initial episodes featuring them interacting showed, didn’t particularly care for one another. This led to the fandom turning that dynamic into “they secretly want to fuck,” and, as we see with Finn and Kylo, transplanted characterization and dynamics onto the other characters to prop up their ship.

I repeat myself above. I am not judging fantasy. Hell, I’m not even against writing alternate universe variations where the good guys are bad guys and vice versa. The problem I am seeing here, the reason that I cannot abide R*ylow, the reason that I see that specifically as a toxic fandom element, is because it actively diminishes the black man involved in matters - MANY fics will either downplay or completely trash Finn’s canon character in the name of making him the villain who Kylo must defeat to claim Rey.

These people claim to love “Kylo and Rey,” but frequently they are treating her as his redemptive sexy lamp, her purpose is to be his reward for reaching the bar that is basic human decency, having no interest in her beyond her being there to reward him for finally rejecting the darkness, when she has no canonical romantic interest in Kylo and only knows Ben as an idea. Even when the canon has her trying to reach to him, she is NOT doing it because of her intense love - love is not a switch, it is not some snap decision. It comes about because of knowing a person. Lust is instant. Attraction is instant. Love? That requires time. The ideal of Ben as a person could be attractive. But Kylo is not who Rey is or would be attracted to. 

All of this is still secondary to the fact that, because of an actor making a joke about his character and another character - a character who repeatedly has an inherently far kinder dynamic with his - having sex, there is a group of this fandom who has decided that this was an attack on them, and they must respond in kind. 

Whether or not you agree with ANY of what I have said of the interactions of Kylo and Rey, PLEASE tell me that you agree that THAT behavior is unacceptable. And THAT is the group that people are referring to when they speak so derisively about R*ylows. 

Because that is the group that speaks loudest. They’re who come to mind when the topic turns to this ship. You may not be part of it, but guilt by association comes into effect, because this group is hostile to anyone who doesn’t implicitly agree with them. And when you get this hostility from what comes across - whether it’s fact or perception - as a massive wing of total strangers, strangers who decide that, because you disagree with them, you are The Enemy, and you must be destroyed... Yeah, your reflex becomes “That group is trash, do not listen to them, do not engage with them, and god, aren’t they pathetic for devoting themselves to this ridiculous thing of made up characters.”

You want to go after the issue here? Root out the bad behavior that is the cause. Not the symptom. The symptom might be hating on women. But the cause is still the racism that started all of this.

You want to talk about how fandom hates women? Fine. Go right ahead. But don’t use a topic that came about because of racism to do it.

[valeriemperez]

"Do westallen shippers recognize how there’s nothing remotely progressive about interracial relationships?" What's your opinion on this?

😂😂😂 I just saw this post and was debating whether or not to respond. I was telling myself to let it go like Elsa when your ask came through, so lemme just say of course I disagree.

There are still people alive who were around when interracial marriage was illegal. There are still people who think it’s weird or wrong. And specifically in the context of fiction, WOC (black women especially) are often still fetishized or stereotyped and put in boxes that would never in a million years include “love of the hero’s life who actually gets to survive and thrive.”

Are y’all gonna tell me that Iris would have survived any other show’s equivalent of the S3 storyline? In the world where Abbie sacrificed herself for Ichabod and Veil sacrificed herself instead of being saved by Sunny? The fact that Iris West, a black woman, was treated as someone whose life was precious, whose life was the greater good, who was worth a white man sacrificing himself to save… That IS different.

So no, I’m not gonna play oppression olympics, but yes I do think it’s progressive in and of itself even if there are a lot of ways that Flash fails to be progressive.

[meganlpie]

The Witness’ Fate

Anonymous asked: Hi Meg! Can I make a request? Could you write a Ichabod Crane x fem!reader? Maybe Ichabod and the reader are working together to kill one of Pandora’s monsters? Just something angsty please??

Here you are, anon! I do not own Ichabod, Abbie or Jenny. They belong to the creators of the FOX show, Sleepy Hollow. 

Warnings: ANGST!! Mentions of violence, injury, major character death, arguing. SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN’T FINISHED SEASON 3!!(slight AU)

Pairings: Ichabod Crane x fem!reader, Abbie Mills, Jenny Mills. 

You ducked around a corner to stop and catch your breath as you ran from yet another monster. Ichabod was right on your heels. “I don’t recall signing up for this, Ichabod,” you grumbled. You and Ichabod were in charge of distracting the monster while Abbie and Jenny went after Pandora and her box. Ichabod gave a wry chuckle. “I am afraid you did, as you put it, sign up for this.” You smiled at him just as you heard the monster approaching.

               You readied your weapon quietly. The monster you were currently fighting was blind but had excellent hearing so every movement had to be slow and as quiet as possible. For that reason, you chose to use blades rather than guns. You pressed as far back against the wall as you could, waiting for the monster to pass so you could, hopefully, get the jump on it. It would have worked too if not for the puddles in the tunnel.

               The monster moved passed you both and you moved to attack, but stepped in a small puddle of water. The monster whipped around and you were suddenly flying into a nearby wall. Your vision clouded, but you were able to make out Ichabod’s form stabbing the monster. You heard a shriek before the monster basically exploded.

               "Y/N? Are you alright?“ You blinked rapidly, clearing your vision slowly. “I think so.” Ichabod smiled, offering his hand to help you up. “Thanks.” You felt the warmth of his hand and you couldn’t stop yourself from flushing. You’d liked Ichabod for a while, but you knew there was no time for any kind of relationship. Trying to save the world came first. “We need to get to Abbie and Jenny,” you said softly, making Ichabod frown and drop your hand. “Of course.”

               Ichabod followed your lead back through the tunnels to where you last saw Abbie and Jenny. His mind was conflicted. He knew he had a mission to complete but you occupied his thoughts more than he cared to admit. He knew that chances you would both survive this war were slim and he didn’t know if he could handle losing anyone else that he loved. So, he kept quiet about his feelings except to Abbie. She had just known.

               You both ran as quickly as you could, not realizing you were walking into a trap. As you ran, you suddenly felt yourself being pushed to the ground. You landed with a thud on the cold stone ground. “Abbie!” Ichabod and Jenny’s voices called out, causing you to look up. Your eyes widened and you shuddered. Another monster had apparently been released from the box and had come after you. The monster had Abbie in its grip with one hand while the claws on the other had caught her in the chest.  

               Jenny shot the monster in between the eyes and, to your surprise, it crumpled to the ground. Ichabod stared at her. “The bullets are soaked in holy water,” she answered getting down to the ground where Abbie was laying. “W-Why, Abbie? Why did you do that?” you asked with tears in your eyes. The woman gave you a weak smile. “I had to.” Jenny held Abbie close as her eyes closed.

               The three of you sat there in silence for several minutes. There were no words that could help as you all cried for your friend, your companion, your sister. Ichabod came over and sank down next to you. “Y/N?” You looked up at him and shook your head. You didn’t want to talk. This was your fault. You run right into the trap and Abbie had saved you but sacrificing herself. It was your fault. “We have to go,” Jenny suddenly declared. Her face was a mask of stone, but you knew she was hurting.

               Ichabod helped you to your feet before moving to help Jenny with Abbie. Jenny shook her hand and batted his hands away. “No!” she cried before returning to her calm facade, “I need to do this.” Ichabod lowered his arms and nodded. He turned back to you. You were standing there with your arms hanging at your sides and your eyes downcast. “Y/N?” Once more, you shook your head and quietly followed Jenny out. Or you tried to.

               "Y/n, please,“ Ichabod said, gently taking hold of your arm. You spun around and screamed, "WHAT?!” He flinched slightly but didn’t back down. “What can I do?” You chuckled dryly as you began crying. “What can you do? Nothing! This is my fault! If I had been paying attention, this wouldn’t have happened! It should have been me, not her! Why did she do that….how could she? She’s more important to this war than I am,” you trailed off, putting a hand to your mouth to stifle your sobs.

               Ichabod didn’t have an answer for you other than wrapping his arms around you and resting his head on yours. He simply held you and let you cry until you couldn’t cry anymore. “It is the fate of all Witnesses, Y/N. We lose those we love and eventually, when this world is finished with us, we move onto the next.” He felt you shake your head against his chest. “I can’t do this.” Your words were muffled, but he heard them anyway.

               He pulled away and looked into your eyes. There was no denying that you were serious. You took a step back, drying your tears with the back of your hand. Your mind was made up. After Abbie’s funeral, you were leaving. “Please, don’t go.” Ichabod’s voice was so soft, you almost didn’t hear him. “I’m sorry. But I can’t do this anymore. I can’t stay here knowing that Abbie’s death is my fault.” Ichabod shook his head. “The blame does not lie with you, Y/N. Abbie chose to step in and I know, given the chance to relieve the moment, she would do the same again. So I ask you to stay. Please.”

               "Why? So I can fight more monster that will most likely kill me or y-“ you stopped yourself and changed direction, "people I care about? Don’t ask me to do that.” Ichabod was near tears now. “I cannot lose you. I have already lost so many people I loved. My wife, my comrades and now my closest friend. I can’t lose you too. So please…stay.” You stepped back toward him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I’m sorry, Ichabod. I can’t.” You kissed his bearded cheek before dropping your arms and walking away.  

(a/n: I hope this is enough angst for you, anon!)

Tagging: @fairytalesexistxx

@brewsthespirit-blog