#ensign thomas baker

[knowltonsrangers]

what if…[pt.2]

…Ensign Baker escapes after being shot and makes it to your house.

Ensign Thomas Baker x reader

[a/n: the ‘surprise’ won on the poll!!]

[WARNING: this fic contains: blood/gunshot wounds/bullets/stitching/etc. please read at your own discretion.]

The next morning, you can’t help the sinking feeling that arrives in your stomach the moment your eyes blink awake. Nauseated, you throw the blanket from your body, tearing out of bed and hurrying down the hall.

“Ensign?”

You call, fearful that something had happened in the early hours of morning. While you had tossed and turned during the night, getting up every half hour to make sure the man on your couch was still breathing, you must have finally fallen asleep.

Taking the left quite hastily, you slide into the foyer, heart beating wildly as he still remains asleep, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

Oh, thank goodness.

You heart calms, as your mind drifts to what you need to do about the hole in his torso.

He’d fallen asleep.

Sitting up rather harshly, he’s immediately reminded of the wound in his side. Hands coming to the bandage, no relief is found as it begins to grow saturated, crimson bleeding through the white gauze.

The sudden movement must have caused that, and he grimaces at the pain.

His gaze moves around the room, and he’s immediately frightened that since he fell asleep, something has happened to you.

Mustering any strength he had, his hand comes to the arm of the couch, standing shakily as his other hand holds his wounded side.

“y/n?”

Thomas calls weakly, shuffling through the foyer, nerves rising as you don’t answer him.

“y/n! Where are you?”

It’s more than a simple question this time, it’s a plea, and when he makes it into the next room, his heart drops to not find you there.

You, however, had just left for a few moments to get some appropriate thread and a surgical needle to better close that bullet wound.

Since Thomas had not told you who did this to him, you’d thought better than to risk taking him into town in such a vulnerable state. Ultimately, though, you might regret such an decision, since you had very minimal experience with stitches.

Carefully entering so you wouldn’t wake him, you close the front door over with a small thud.

The absolute horror that takes over your features when you see the couch empty is indescribable.

“Ensign?!”

Blood travels along the floor in a scattered path, and your feet follow, calling for him every breath when he does not answer.

When you find him, he’s got one hand supporting all of his weight on the kitchen table, the other cradling his side as blood trickles down his front.

“Ensign…”

You sigh, and you realize that he’s probably lost a lot more blood now versus last night. He’s fighting fiercely to stay upright, and it takes no time to duck under his good arm and take on some of him like dead weight.

“Thought…something happened…to you…”

He wheezes, and you urge him to turn, so you can sit him in the chair next to the table.

“I went to go get stitching supplies, I didn’t have any here,”

Carefully you help him lower into the chair, and he drops into it with a groan.

“I thought you’d still be resting, Ensign.”

“S’not Ensign…y/n…”

“Yes, right. Thomas. Forgive me,”

The sarcasm crosses once more, and Thomas chokes on his laugh.

“Now that you’ve looked death twice in the face.“

You chide, coming once more to kneel on the floor, this time right at decent level to attend to his wound.

“I suggest we close this up once and for all.”

“Lucky me.”

Thomas heaves, and hisses in pain when you peel away the gauze, and your eyes jump wide.

He must’ve noticed, because his hand comes to cover his side once more, shielding your view.

“You…do not have to…”

Thomas feels horrible. He would never have thrown all this on you, lest make you stitch him up. In retrospect, he knew he could trust you, and that’s why he came here.

He didn’t have any other reason to explain his actions.

“You cannot stitch yourself up, that is like asking you to pass out.”

You stand, instructing him to not move, as you go back into the foyer to get your supplies.

Thomas deeply sighs, pressing the saturated gauze back to his side once more. When you return, you have a bucket of water and your sewing equipment.

“Ready? Cause I think I had to suture this, like thirty minutes ago.”

He nods blindly, as you kneel to the floor once more, pushing away the gauze as the hole pours.

“Why…no Doctor?”

He’s talking to avoid the feeling of the needle going in and out of his skin, even though he gasps for air every time you do so.

“You did not get to mention who shot you.”

Another stitch in, another breath out.

“If I managed to get you to town, what if they were there? I was not going to risk your life anymore than it already has been, Thomas.”

Thomas is flattered by your loyalty, and seemingly in a daze because no sooner you cut the thread with your teeth, and tie the final knot off.

“There, that should do it. I’ll wrap it once more, but it should be alright if you don’t move so much.”

He nods again, biting at his bottom lip as you take a strip of cloth, instructing him to lean forwards a bit.

“I did not know you had such…medical experience.”

“I know the basics, just for when injured militia come to my door,”

Thomas doesn’t like the sound of that, jest or not.

“There you go. I’ll help you back to the couch, and you’re to stay there. Until I know you are okay.”

With the stitches, it’s easier to stand without aggravating the wound as much. Your hands feel like they’re being engulfed by his as you help him up, and all he can do is stare down at the top of your head as you stare down at his wound, ensuring no blood was escaping.

“Thank you. And excellent…job on the stitches.”

“Thank you. Much obliged.”

Once more, you are under his uninjured side, walking painfully slow down the small corridor to get him back to the couch.

“Is Major Hewlett looking for you? Should I—“

“No,”

He shakes his head, missing your touch as you help him to sit.

“Likely my foes think me dead. No need to let them know I am alive, lest not yet.”

You nod slowly, moving to take his bloody clothes and gesturing to the many cloths that litter the room.

“Alright, I will work on getting the blood out of these. Please, for the sake of yourself, stay put. I will just be in the next room.”

Thomas nods, unable to argue as you disappear behind the next wall.

He wondered if you could see the heat to his cheeks, or the way his fingers trembled under your touch.

He hoped that you couldn’t. He owed you a lot more than that sentiment, and he wasn’t quite sure if it was appropriate to ask that of you after you saved his life.

For another time, he supposes.

[melancholyromance]

Thomas Keegan as Ensign Baker in TURN

[timelessxmemories]

Introducing Theodore Dosia,the British soldier that Aaron Burr harboured illegally during the war and who ended up being Burr’s gay lover and father to their adopted daughter :D -Honey

He was also mute for three years because he feared getting sh/t for his accent :,) -Honey

AWWW??? -Willow

Oh he seems lovely! -En. Thomas Baker

[anoseforrottenapples]

Mary: "What if?" in regards to Thomas' death (cuz y'know, I can't ever be nice, I guess lol.)

Send “What if” and I’ll write a drabble on an event in my muse’s past – but on a different timeline Thomas’s death… but on a timeline when Mary does not marry Abraham.

Mary was too young to wear widow’s black—especially when she was not technically a widow. Society had expectations on widows, and a good deal of pity. The Bible specified over and over again how the widows were to be provided for and treated with mercy by society. When a husband died, the other women rallied around the widow to support her. Family members and friends stepped up to ensure she and any children were provided for.

Society said nothing about the almost-widows, the women who lost their betrothed before the wedding ceremony assured them of society’s mercy. If anything, society callously assumed that the young woman was simply back on the market, and available for another suitor.

Hands folded neatly in her lap; Mary considered the gravestone in front of her. So many hopes and dreams, and expectations for her life lay under the sod now. In time the dirt would settle down, and the mound would flatten. Then the grass would grow over it again, and nature would reclaim Thomas so utterly that only his loved ones would know he laid here.

Mary did not grieve for the soldier. Everyone seemed to think she should be shedding tears for Thomas though, wailing as if she had lost the most important person in her life. How could she when she barely knew the man? She had met Thomas once, over a dinner. She could not say he had impacted her life that greatly, though he did seem kind and considerate.

Footsteps on the gravel caught her attention but she did not look up. It could be the vicar, or another person coming to visit a grave—not anyone she needed to worry about. It was only when the footsteps stopped next to her that she stirred, pulling her eyes away from the green landscape in front of her and the glimmering sea in the distance.

She found herself craning her neck in order to meet the eyes of the lanky British officer hovering near her seat. The young man quickly pulled his hat off, pressing it against his chest, as he leaned toward her in a futile bid to cancel out the difference in their heights. “Miss Blake?”

“Yes?” Mary tilted her head, unsure how this stranger came to learn her name.

The solider nervously tightened the grip on his hat. “My name is Ensign Baker, madam. I was friends with Thomas and I came to give my apologies. The Captain could not give us all leave to come to his funeral so I had to stay in York City.”

“It’s quite all right.” Mary smiled at him faintly before gesturing at the bench beside her, an invitation for him to sit. While it might be considered improper, she was getting a headache from trying to look up at him. After a moment of clear hesitation, Baker carefully settled on the edge of the stone, consciously leaving as much space as possible between them. Even seated, the young man managed to tower over her.

The silence only lasted for a moment before it grew too awkward for Mary to bear. “Did you come to pay your respects now, Ensign Baker?”

“Yes Miss,” He ducked his head quickly before adding, “If you’ll permit, I also came to see how you were, Miss. Thomas mentioned that he was going to get married… but soldiering isn’t the safest life.” He paused, reflexively glancing toward Thomas’s burial plot. “He told me that your parents died shortly before you came to meet him, and that if anything happened to him that you had no one else and … well… he was worried…”

Unbidden, a lump swelled in Mary’s throat. She had quickly dismissed Thomas as an opportunity that passed, while he had been trying to make arrangements for her wellbeing should anything happen to him. A hot flush of shame swept though her at her ingratitude toward the man, and she looked away quickly so Baker could not see her eyes filling with tears.

Baker misinterpreted her reaction, and swallowed. “If I’m in the wrong, Miss, I’ll be on my way. I just wished to make sure you were well before I returned to York City.”

“No, no,” Mary quicky wiped her cheeks clean. “It was very kind of you, Ensign Baker, to remember Thomas’s worries and come see how I was faring. You’re the first of his friends who has.”

The Ensign relaxed faintly, his shoulders slumping under his red woolen coat. “I’m sure Mr. Woodhull is going to make every provision for your well-being… you have nothing to worry about there. That’s what Thomas would have wanted.”

At the young man’s well-meaning words, a faint crease marred Mary’s brow. Richard had been pushing his second son Abraham to take Thomas’s place in the contract, but the young man seemed resolute in following his own course. She doubted there would be any security there.

Rather than worry the Ensign about her precarious position, she stood up. Baker jumped up as she did, his hat still in his hands. “As a favor to your friend, would you escort me back to White Hall, Ensign? I am sure Mr. Woodhull would find solace in meeting you as well. He will be pleased to speak with one of Thomas’s friends—especially one who knew him from his time in the army rather then his childhood here in Setauket.”

A bashful smile crossed Baker’s features as he nodded. “It’d be my honor, Miss Blake. Both to see to your safety, and to pay my respects to Thomas’s father and brother.”

Mary found herself smiling in return, the first genuine one to cross her features since the news of Thomas’s death shattered the Woodhull family like a cannon barrage. “Come with me then… and while we walk, I would take pleasure in learning more about Thomas. I barely knew him when I lost him.”

Baker’s smile softened, tinged with melancholy. “It would be my honor to tell you about him as well, Miss Blake. He was a fine man and I doubt the world will see his equal again.” His own eyes moved across the graveyard until he spotted the fresh mound of dirt.

Bowing toward his friend’s final resting place, Baker swallowed and looked down, fiddling with the edges of his hat for a moment. Then he turned his attention back to Mary. “It’ll be dark soon, Miss Blake. Lead on and I’ll follow.”

[amberlynnmurdock]

I Yearned For You

Pairing: Ben Tallmadge x Reader

Summary: a lovely anon sent in a request here. The request said "Maybe a fic with Benjamin Tallmadge where he and the reader are reunited during the battle of Setauket?"

Well anon, you asked, and here I am, delivering! I had to rewatch that episode again instead of going into it blindly, and I'm glad I did, because boyyy, I love a rugged and pissed-off Ben lol. I hope you love it anonny friend! Also, Happy 4th!

Setauket hadn’t had a normal day in what felt like ages. Not now especially, with Simcoe’s men still lurking and tensions higher than ever among people you used to call friends…neighbors, even. Things had gotten even worse when you found out Simcoe had innocent people held captive—and not just any people, but your best friend’s uncle and…your ex, you supposed, lover’s father. Reverend Tallmadge was a good man, and you still attended his sermons every Sunday, (despite losing touch with his son), until Simcoe wrongfully accused him of shooting Abe’s father. To put it simply, things were absolutely in turmoil. And you didn’t have anyone to lean on except for Anna. 

You felt helpless, and it was a terrible reminder of how badly things ended between you and Ben. Before he went off, done up in blue and gold, without looking back. That seemed like such a little bump in the road now. The intensity of the situation now far outweighed anything you and Ben had disagreed on that night. You worried for his father, and you worried he had no idea what was happening right now. 

You cursed to yourself and shook your head as you tied a blue ribbon to hold your hair back. What did it matter, if you looked good going into town? Nothing was the same since the war started. Nothing was the same since your close group of friends separated—half at home, the other half risking their lives.

Nothing had been the same without Benjamin. 

There Anna was, standing, waiting patiently for you. When she saw you walking up, she gave a shadow of a smile, and a look that said I’m scared, too.  

“Are they still held captive down there?” You asked nervously. Your heart had been pounding all morning on your way to the town. 

“Yes,” Anna replied curtly, crossing her arms. She looked as though she was looking for something—or someone—in the crowd. “Are you holding up alright?” 

It amazed you that despite everything the brunette had been through recently, with her husband being taken away and losing Abigail, she still managed to make sure you were okay, just as she always had when you were little kids. You thought that if you had a bigger sister, you’d hope she would’ve been like Anna Strong. 

“Best I can,” you answered, “I’m worried for Caleb’s uncle and…Ben’s father,” you whispered. Ensign Baker had strolled by you and Anna, wishing a good morning. How can he say that right now? Anna returned the greeting for the two of you, and spoke again when he walked away. 

“They will be fine,” Anna told you, so sure of herself. “Believe me.” Her eyes trailed off in the distance. You followed her gaze and saw Abe and Mary, and little Thomas, ride in. You squinted your eyes at her. 

“How can you be so sure?” 

A group of redcoats suddenly came marching into town. You watched as Simcoe ordered for basement doors to be opened. After a few moments, Simcoe and his men roughly brought out the elder Brewster and Reverend Tallmadge, who was covered in dirt and sweat. You looked away—it was too painful to watch. 

“What are they doing?” You asked Anna. 

Her eyebrows were scrunched. She was looking at Abe. You hated how you felt like you weren’t let in on a secret. As kids, you all shared everything with each other. 

Simcoe and his men took them all the way up to the church. You were horrified at the sight of Reverend Tallmadge and the elder Brewster being dragged up to the gallows. You placed a hand over your mouth, watching as some other townsfolk went on as if it were nothing. How could they be so cruel? 

As if reading your mind, Anna took your hand and squeezed it, reminding you not to show too much emotion. You clenched your jaw and leaned on the building you were near. You thought you might be sick. Despite Anna’s attempts at calming you down, there was only one person who ever succeeded in making your worries disappear. 

Suddenly, gunshots rang in the air. You jumped from the sound and bumped into Anna. As if on cue, she held onto your arm and dragged you closer to where Abe and his family had ridden in. 

“Anna!” 

“Shh,” she shushed you. 

In the distance, you saw a wave of blue come out of the woods and charge up to the church. People in town began to scream. Everything happened so fast, you were being rallied into a circle by rebels. Anna looked at you again, and her eyes said everything you needed to know: we are safe. 

“What is happening—“ you whispered, and suddenly, you felt like the weight of the world dropped in your stomach as you saw Major Benjamin Tallmadge stalking through the town in his blue and gold uniform, brows furrowed, jaw clenched, focus forward. You held your breath at the sight of him and suddenly wished you and Anna weren’t standing front and center of the group. 

You couldn’t take your eyes off him. 

He glanced at the group, and for a moment, just a sliver of a moment, when he looked at you, that hard look on his face faded into something softer. Your heart was in your throat. Looking at him felt like you were exposed in front of everyone to see. And when he looked away, it hurt that much more. 

However, your reaction to seeing Caleb was a bit different—you were excited and confused, all at once. All you wanted to do was clobber him in a bear hug. 

“Just wait,” Anna whispered. 

A shot rang in the air. You all turned your heads to the left to see a giant bullet hole in what used to be the Strong’s tavern—and underneath, Selah Strong, walking up alive and well. Now, you knew whatever Anna had planned for you vanished as she made her way through the crowd to greet her long-lost husband. You had to act by yourself now. 

☆☆☆☆

You found Anna again in the tavern when the rebels had everyone huddle inside, including some captive redcoats, like Ensign Baker. You stood beside her as you watched the events unfold. 

Ben was pacing back and forth, talking to Selah and then Caleb. Abe had begun to include himself in the conversation, too. You hadn’t seen Ben in months. He was hardened now, you could tell by the way his shoulders remained taut and hadn’t relaxed a bit since he was here. He did that whenever he was angry. You couldn’t imagine how he felt now. Every so often, you swore he scanned the crowd just to get a look at you. And each time he did, you looked away, eyes drifting to the floor or the wall. 

Caleb was more brash than Ben in his actions, and rightfully so. You gasped when he held a gun to Ensign Baker’s neck. And from there, everything happened so fast—Anna left your side, following orders from Ben to open the cellar. Caleb and Abe followed Anna, with Ben behind them. You couldn’t look away this time. 

When Ben walked by you, it was like only you and he existed. So much was said in one look, without any words. He held your gaze, and while the rest of his face remained sharp, his blue eyes were soft. It was like he said I’ll speak with you. Not now, but soon. 

☆☆☆☆

A lot happened, but from the looks of it, the battle was over. Not without casualties. Fortunately, Reverend Tallmadge was alive, but he held the elder Brewster in his arms. You bit back tears as you looked away. You walked across the dirt path and stopped as you saw an army of blue march down. 

You were frozen, watching them. This may be your only chance to speak with Ben, while everyone was distracted and no redcoats were nearby. They had all retreated to the church. 

Ben led the dragoons. He had the face of a man who had won a battle, exhaustedly, but still remained strong for the men whom he had to lead. There was a difference between remaining strong and looking it, though. 

“Grab your haversacks and head for the boats!” He shouted with authority. You had to get used to this new, rugged Ben, made from war. 

He stopped in his tracks. You were about to step forward until Abe and he began to converse about something. And when they were done, Abe walked away, and Ben finally, looked at you. 

The intense feeling you had in your chest only grew heavier the closer you walked to Ben. And he stood there patiently, waiting for you, one hand on his waist, the other touching his sword. When you finally stood before him, he dropped the hand that touched his sword. You were overcome with so many emotions, you didn’t know where to begin. It was lovely to see him, and heart-wrenching, all at once. 

“I’m so happy your father is okay. I heard a boy in town said he saw Benjamin Tallmadge all done up in blue and gold,” you forced a smile, tears already threatening the corner of your eyes. Ben had looked around you as if to make sure no one was suspicious of why he was talking to you. You didn’t bother to look. 

He said your name, barely above a whisper. You bit your lip, thinking this was a terrible idea, and began to walk away. But Ben gently tugged on your wrist, and let go the moment he got your attention. 

“Are you okay here?” Ben asked earnestly. 

“As good as I can be,” you replied with a shrug. “You know nothing is the same.” 

“I know,” he nodded, breaking eye contact when he saw a tear slide down your cheek. He never could stand to see you so upset and by his own doing. He swallowed hard before he spoke again. “Why don’t you come with me? On the boats? To New Jersey?” His voice was strained with so many things—pain, yearning, regret. And the worst of all, hope. 

“I can’t,” you began to argue, “I can’t drop everything here.” 

“You can,” he argued. And it felt like you were back three years ago, arguing about the same thing all over again. “It’s not safe with those wretched men up at the hill, at our church.” When he mentioned the church, memories flooded your mind like crashing waves of images of you and Ben sitting front row in the center, every Sunday. Meeting him outside around the back of the church stealing kisses. The church you dreamed of marrying him in someday. 

“I’ve survived this long without you,” you said rather harshly, without meaning to. 

“I may be standing here,” Ben started in a low voice, “but I’ve barely survived without you.” The look on his face was full of pain; flashes of the night he left you in your mind. That same pained expression, of wanting to reach out and grab something but never being close enough. 

Your heart was beating so fast, he might’ve seen your chest moving. God, you were such a sinful liar. You were barely surviving here without Ben, too. With that redcoat forced to live in your house, you always watching your own back. Life was hard here. You wanted to leap at the idea of being back in Ben’s graces, but something held you back. 

“I don’t have much time,” Ben urged. 

When you didn’t answer, he straightened his shoulders again and bowed. 

“It was lovely to see you again,” Ben told you, choking on his own voice but hiding it well with that stern expression. “Goodbye, my love.” 

☆☆☆☆

You watched as Ben disappeared down the road with his men, to the boats. And something in you changed, minutes later. You were sprinting after the boats, that were just taking off. There was a crowd of people in town watching as the rebels—traitors, to them—sailed off to their next destination. Anna was on one of those boats. 

Just as you were running past everyone, pushing to the front, you ran into the river, not giving a damn who saw and gasped and cursed at you. You passed Anna, who was strangely coming back, against you who was marching on forward. 

Ben held up his arms and yelled for Caleb to stop rowing. 

“Ben!” You shouted. “I want to come!” 

Ben leaped out of the boat and met you in the water, up to your shins. He was shaking, you were shaking, as he held onto you tightly and helped you get onto the boat, to join him, Caleb, and Selah, and the rest of the rebel army in their journey to New Jersey. You sat in the boat, with a blanket over your shoulders, and watched as the townspeople cursed at you. You held Anna’s gaze, wondering why on earth you had switched places. 

But it didn’t matter now. Ben sat across from you on the boat, beaming with an expression of gratefulness. He took your hands in his and warmed them by rubbing them together. You didn’t have to say anything to each other—the look in your eyes was enough. 

[vocesincaput]

MUSE LIST

TURN WASHINGTON'S SPIES

Peter Price - (He/Him) (OC) (SECONDARY).

Captain Henry Simpson - (He/Him) (OC) (PRIMARY).

Genevieve Hawkins - (She/Her) (OC).(PRIMARY),

Edmund Hewlett - (He/Him) (PRIMARY).

Benjamin Tallmadge - (He/Him) (PRIMARY).

Caleb Brewster - (He/Him) (PRIMARY).

Mary Woodhull - (She/Her) (PRIMARY).

John André - (He/Him) (PRIMARY).

Ensign Baker - (He/Him) (UNAVAILABLE).

Abraham Woodhull - (He/Him) (SECONDARY).

Anna Strong - (She/Her) (TEST MUSE).

George Washington - (He/Him) (TEST MUSE).

Abigail - (She/Her) (TEST MUSE).

ASSASSIN'S CREED

Shay Patrick Cormac - (He/Him) (PRIMARY).

Ratonhnhaké:ton/Connor Kenway - (He/They) (PRIMARY).

Aguilar/Cal Lynch - (He/They) (SECONDARY).

Edward Kenway - (He/Him) (PRIMARY).

Arno Dorian - (He/Him) (PRIMARY).

Jacob Frye - (He/Him) (PRIMARY).

DOCTOR WHO

The 15th Doctor - (He/They) (PRIMARY).

Rogue - (He/They) (PRIMARY).

The Corsair - (She/He/They) (PRIMARY).

Ian Chesterton (He/Him) (SECONDARY).

KINGSMAN

Merlin - (He/Him) (PRIMARY) (formerly @kngsmnmerlin-blog).

Arak - (He/Him) (PRIMARY) (formerly @statesmanarak-blog).

MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE

Steve Rogers - (He/They) (PRIMARY) (formerly @steverogerscpt).

Lady Sif - (She/Her) (PRIMARY) (formerly @ladysifcfasgard).

Ayo - (She/He/They) (PRIMARY).

Daniel Sousa (He/Him) (PRIMARY).

Steven Grant/Marc Spector/Moon Knight - (He/They) (PRIMARY).

Howard Stark (Dominic Cooper) - (He/Him) (PRIMARY).

Yon-Rogg - (He/They) (PRIMARY).

Nebula - (She/They) (PRIMARY).

SHERLOCK HOLMES (MOVIES)

John Watson - (He/Him) (PRIMARY).

OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH

Izzy Hands - (He/Him) (PRIMARY).

Frenchie - (He/Him) (PRIMARY).

Samuel Bellamy - (He/She/They) (PRIMARY).

Jim Jimenez - (They/Them) (SECONDARY).

BLACK SAILS

James Flint - (He/Him) (SECONDARY).

Thomas Hamilton - (He/Him) (PRIMARY).

HORNBLOWER / AGE OF SAIL

Samuel Clayton - (He/Him) (HORNBLOWER) (SECONDARY).

Charles Braddock - (He/Him) (AGE OF SAIL - OC) (SECONDARY).

GOOD OMENS

Aziraphale - (She/He/They) (SECONDARY) (formerly @vocesincaput-arc & @ineffablebookseller).

FurFur - (They/Them) (PRIMARY) (formerly @underno9)

Crowley - (She/He/They) (SECONDARY) (formerly @vocesincaput-arc).

Gabriel/Jim - (He/They) (SECONDARY) (formerly @vocesincaput-arc & @archangelfngabriel).

FANDOMLESS

Kaveh - (He/They) (SECONDARY)

[macaron-n-cheese]

Top five favorite period piece characters (Hornblower, Turn, 1776, etc)

GOOD QUESTION!!!!!

1. Horatio Hornblower 💓💝💞💕💖💖❤️💓💖 he's just an amazing little guy

2. 1776 Thomas Jefferson

3. TURN Ensign Baker

4. 1776 Richard Henry Lee

5. 1776 Martha Jefferson

There are probably characters who I'm forgetting but I actually can't remember them 😔 but you hit the nail on the head with the ones you named lol

[lyledebeast]

It’s probably because they’re both so much taller than everyone else on the show that it’s impossible to not compare them, but I’ve been thinking a lot of about John Graves Simcoe and Ensign Baker.

So many times we see Baker either being singled out in ways that make him uncomfortable or appearing suddenly while things are happening that make him uncomfortable.  He looks like he wants to disappear, but his height makes that even more difficult. Perhaps it is embarrassment about his height that makes him keep some distance between himself and other people at all times.. In the scenes he shares with Mary Woodhull, they almost never appear in the same frame; rather, the camera focuses on whichever one is speaking.  He only appears in the same frame as Abe when it is absolutely necessary, such as when he helps Abe up after Simcoe’s attack and when he quietly explains the dueling rules while serving as his second.  In spite of towering over his costars, Thomas Keegan makes Baker one of the least intimidating characters on the show through his performance.

Samuel Roukin’s Simcoe, though, takes up all the space his height affords him and more.  In his scenes with both Abe and Anna Strong, not only do he and his scene partner occupy the same frame, many frames are wide shots that emphasize how much space Simcoe actually has and that no one is near enough to hear what he is saying.  There is no reason for him to stand practically on top of Abe or Anna except that he is using his height to physically intimidate them.  While he feels differently about them and believes he is pursuing them with totally different aims, these framing choices reveal his behavior towards them as functionally the same.

 And then, of course, there’s the scene where Simcoe pushes Baker against the wall outside the Woodhull’s house and orders that he give up the details about why Mary is currently inside, destroying the kitchen in a fury.  The shot reveals that Baker is the taller of the two, but neither of them notice in this fascinating juxtaposition between the British solider who seeks information to do harm and the one who has more information than he wants.  It is a tragic irony that Abe, who wants so badly to kill Simcoe, succeeds only in killing the British soldier who has tried so hard to keep him and his family safe. 

[knowltonsrangers]

what if…

…Ensign Baker escapes after being shot and makes it to your house.

Ensign Thomas Baker x reader

[TW: mentions of blood/injury/guns/wounds ahead. please read at your own discretion.]

If he wasn’t already on the brink of death when he knocked on your door, you surely would have punched him silly for not going to someone more qualified for such a thing.

“You…your house was the closest.”

He heaves, and in exchange you gasp, watching as he leans against the doorframe, middle saturated with the crimson stain you pray wasn’t as bad as it looks.

Sliding under his uninjured side, you instruct him to stop moving his torso so much, and lean some of his weight on to you, so you can get him inside. Your hand comes to his back, the other to his chest, trying your best to help him regain his balance.

“I should kill you Baker, if this doesn’t.”

It’s sarcasm, one that you don’t quite care at the moment it it doesn’t come across as such. He laughs, breathlessly, swiping a hand under his mouth as it trails a line of blood along with it.

“Yes, y/n. I definitely…deserve that.”

He collapses on your couch, mumbling a quick ‘sorry’ as he’s noticed how much of a mess he’s brought into your foyer.

“That’s alright.”

A bit of fear settles in your stomach, rushing to the next room to find some bandages and medical supplies.

“Just how long ago did this happen? And what is it?”

You exasperate, rolling your sleeves up and helping him into a sitting position. Still, he laughs, and you can tell some sort of shock is occurring by his behavior.

“None more than half hour. You have a long walk to your house, y/n.”

You begin to unbutton his white shirt, careful to peel away his saturated red wool coat. Tossing it on the unoccupied portion of the couch, you gasp as you open his shirt fully.

“Oh dear lord, you’ve come to me to excavate a bullet?!”

With the way he was acting, you knew he was going to pass out soon. You needed to get that musket ball out, and get some pressure on that gouge of a wound.

“Okay, take this off.”

His vest and white shirt follow the coat, and you’re able to see the hole much better, albeit in candlelight. The bullet didn’t make it very far, thankfully, so in a way, it quelled your worries for a moment.

“I know you are lying, Ensign.”

In an attempt to keep him chatting, as to not let him succumb to unconsciousness, his head perks up considerably.

“Why’s…that?”

“Any way you look at it, my house is farthest from town. You should have gone to a doctor—“

“And have whomever did this to me, follow? To end it for good?”

His soft voice is firm, and you can tell as much as he’s tried to hide his true emotions, he is scared to his very core.

“You are lucky you are alive, Baker.”

“Thomas.”

He grunts as you pull the bullet out.

“Bet that feels a lot better, yeah?”

The blood pours, but you’re able to breathe a bit in relief. It’s an injury that can be sealed properly with stitches, but by a proper medical professional, who will have to do that in the morning.

There was no way you would make it to town with him like this, he’s exhausted, and has been through enough.

From your experience, he’ll live. You bandage his side, tightly, to seal the wound for the time being. Thomas hisses in pain, but ultimately relaxes when you pull away.

“There,”

From your perspective, the spot between his legs as you worked from the floor, the tall army officer seemed more sheepish, then as if he was in pain.

“Whomever did this to you…you should see to it that they are arrested.”

You stand, stiffly, hands and arms streaked in his blood. It’s unsightly, but you aren’t expecting any more visitors tonight.

“I…I was scared.”

Thomas says meekly, head turning from yours as you can see just how much this was destroying him.

“That is why I came to you. Yes, I risked it…but…I was willing to.”

It makes your heart flutter, tucking some escaped hair back behind your ear.

“I would be afraid, as well. You went through enough trouble to get here, best I take care of you, yeah?”

He laughs once more, and you can’t help but feel the warmth in your chest spread. He’s looked death dead in the face tonight and lived. He’s lucky for it.

“I will be fine here, tonight. If that is alright with you.”

“Oh yes, let me yank a bullet from your torso and toss you out. Please.”

You quickly wash your hands, water gone cold but well enough to get the job done.

“Thank you.”

He says, sincerely, when you re-enter the foyer.

“No need. I am just going to be in the next room, come get me if the wound worsens at any point in the night.”

You pause.

“Or for any other reason. I will be here, please don’t worry,”

He nods, as you blow out the candle, retreating back to bed with a mind full of rampant thoughts.

You’d be lucky if you got a wink of sleep tonight.

[melancholyromance]

[timelessxmemories]

Hm? -Lt. John G. Simcoe

Oh! Captain! -En. Thomas Baker

[the-anxious-youth]

ℜ𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔱 ℑ𝔫𝔣𝔬

Characters I write for, newest at the top (* means favorites):

One Piece: [Closed]

Buggy*

Nami*

Koby* (I hc Koby as trans bc of @tinfairies (go check them out), but if you want me to write him as amab let me know)

Luffy

Zoro

Sanji

Shanks*

Mihawk

Alvida

Usopp

Helmeppo

House of the Dragon: [Closed]

Aemond Targaryen*

Aegon II Targaryen*

Helaena Targaryen*

Alicent Hightower

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Daemon Targaryen

Jacaerys Velaryon

Harwin Strong

Slashers: [Closed]

Bo Sinclair (House of Wax)*

Vincent Sinclair (House of Wax)

Lester Sinclair (House of Wax)

Thomas Hewitt (Texas Chainsaw Massacre)*

Bubba Sawyer (Texas Chainsaw Massacre)

Brahms Heelshire (The Boy)

Michael Myers (OG and RZ)

Jesse Cromeans/Chromeskull (Laid to Rest)

Baby Firefly (House of 1000 Corpses)

Tiffany Valentine (Chucky)*

Yautja (Predator)*

Jed Sawyer (Leatherface 2017)*

Johnny Slaughter (Texas Chainsaw Game)*

The Walking Dead: [Closed]

Daryl Dixon

Rick Grimes

Maggie Rhee

Turn Washington’s Spies: [Closed]

John Graves Simcoe*

Ensign (Thomas) Baker*

Benjamin Tallmadge

John Andre

Marquis de Lafayette

Edmund Hewlett

LA Noire: [Closed]

Cole Phelps

Stefan Bekowsky*

Roy Earle

Jack Kelso*

Detroit Become Human: [Closed]

Connor (RK800)

Ralph (WR600)

Nines

Peaky Blinders: [Closed]

Thomas Shelby

John Shelby

Arthur Shelby

Finn Shelby

Johnny Dogs*

Bonnie Gold*

Alfie Solomons

Topics I will write about:

Violence, gore, etc

Dark!Characters and reader

Dub-con

Mental illness

NSFW

I will NOT write about:

Non con in any form

Incest outside of HoTD

Glorification of abuse

Real People

I write reader insert one shots and series, as well as OC works and reactions with multiple characters. I’m honestly pretty open minded so if you have an idea, feel free to ask! Worst I will do is politely decline. :)

[faithhearted]

As she sat there listening to the Major speak, she knew it hadn't been right of her to blame him for Thomas' accident. He had no true obligation to them, and yet he'd taken it upon himself to be a mentor to Thomas, and now permitting her to confide in him on topics that would otherwise be inappropriate. He was assuring her that she had value, despite her doubts.

"You're a good man," she said, covering his hand with her free one so that she could offer him some kindness-- some warmth, in return, "And you will make a fine husband to one blessed woman someday."

Looking disconcerted, Benjamin retracted his hands and she settled her own into her lap, "You should ask this of Abraham. Time spent in war...it makes us realize just what we have, and what's truly important. It's not too late to tell him how you feel -- to let him know what you want. Perhaps he'll listen."

Initially she wished to laugh ruefully, but instead she merely shook her head and said, "I've already told him. He knows how I feel, and has assured me that he does not feel the same."

Maybe her candidness was improper, but as she sat there with a mild buzz causing her head to spin, Mary felt it hardly mattered at this point. Major Tallmadge already knew much more than was deemed necessary for one outside of a marriage.

"He's made it unmistakably clear."

Mary rose from her place on the cot, suddenly feeling the urge to pace rather than sit painfully still, like a decorous and respectable lady. Perhaps the lady in her had died back at Whitehall, or even back in the fire of her old home, along with poor unfortunate Ensign Baker.

"Though I'm certain I needn't tell you this. After all, it's no doubt sorely obvious just by watching us together. The man can hardly put his arms around me without a guilty wince or pathetically halfhearted enthusiasm."

‘Be kind’, her mother's words echoed again, ‘kind and fair and devout and true. These are the makings of a desirable woman.’

No, she thought, no more.

She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs in anguish, to throw herself to the ground and beat the earth with her fists until they were bloodied. Lord above, was she so tired of letting the pain tear her to pieces like so many bullets from enemy muskets. In frustration, she spun on her heel to face Tallmadge again, unable to make sense of her thoughts as she stood there in exasperation.

"I don't want... I don't want to be what he settles for...I-- I want..."

Then their eyes met, and in a split decision brought on by loneliness, self pity, or wild need, Mary closed the gap between them, cupped Tallmadge's face and brought her lips to his, desperate to feel a loving and reciprocated touch.

“There is nothing for you to apologize for,” Mary promised. “You were trying to console me, and more importantly, you’ve been a wonderful friend to my son…”

A wave of relief swelled within Benjamin chest, yet a ribbon of doubt stitched between his ribs. How could she forgive him, when not so long ago, she'd rightfully blamed him for Thomas' accident?

Swallowing, he murmured a soft, "Thank you, Mrs. Woodhull," in return, his hands tensing in his lap. "It's a true honor to be considered Thomas' friend."

Unfortunately, it would seem his words about Abraham were not as readily accepted.

“You’re an awfully good liar, Major,” Mary said, a feeble smile in place.

Benjamin's brow scrunched and he shook his head, gently laying his hand upon her wrist. "You misunderstand me," he said. "I wouldn't just say these things unless I believed them to be true... Abe can be a hard, stubborn man, but I've never doubted the love he has for his family."

Thomas and Richard, in particular, but the less Mary contemplated these words, the better.

To his surprise, she reached over and found his hand with her own, entwining their fingers in a pleading squeeze.

“What would you do, if I were your wife?” she asked.

Mouth opening and closing, Benjamin suddenly found it difficult to breathe. "Madam, I...this isn't appropriate."

Mary appeared vulnerable, wounded sitting there alongside him, her eyes wet and begging him within the dim candlelight. Throat tightening, Benjamin covered their interlocked fingers with his palm, the ache in his throat spreading toward his chest as he whispered, "A wife is meant to be cherished...God deemed woman to be man's equal, and thus, I would want a partner in this world -- a friend and confidant who will guide me and advise me, just as I would for her."

The pain in his chest splintered akin to a stain glass window, luminous and vibrantly humming upon the tender strings of his heart. "You're a quiet woman, but you desire friends," Benjamin softly observed. "I would ensure that you had this, not only in my arms, but with the other women in town. There's nothing lonelier than being without a companion."

Unable to meet with her eyes, he lowered his voice farther still. "You've proven yourself to be an intellectual," he continued, "so your mind should be nourished, whether it be through books, attending a show, or even sitting in on public speeches given by the world's greatest minds. To confine yourself to sewing circles would be a cruelty...we're not meant to limit ourselves." Discomfited, Benjamin placed his hand back into his lap, ashamed for having aided in her fantasy. "You should ask this of Abraham," he softly suggested. "Time spent in war...it makes us realize just what we have, and what's truly important. It's not too late to tell him how you feel -- to let him know what you want. Perhaps he'll listen."

[anoseforrottenapples]

Baker and Hewlett lmao for Mary // sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins

“Ensign Baker,” Mary replied without any real hesitation. “Major Hewlett is a fine man, but I feel few people had a chance to learn poor Ensign Baker’s finer qualities before his death.” There was also the small matter of the fact she never had to throw herself between Abraham and Ensign Baker’s gun. Some of Baker’s last words were a request that she move away so he would not harm her. He knew what his duty to the Crown was, but he still had a thought to her safety in the moment of crisis. Major Hewlett, even knowing he would have to shoot Mary before he could get to Abraham, only truly relented when Anna pleaded with him too. Even the thought of orphaning a child paled next to his sense of duty, no matter how much it troubled him. Though Mary would never say such a thought out loud, she suspected that if Ensign Baker had been able to successfully arrest Abraham, he would have tried to shield Mary and Thomas from the resulting scandal. He might not have succeeded, but he would have tried… and a failed effort was still better then what she usually received from the men she knew.

Realizing that she should clarify her statement a bit better, she quietly added. “Perhaps I am influenced by bias, but Ensign Baker quartered in my home for nearly a year, even with my trips to White Hall to help my father-in-law. I grew fond of the man, and was blessed to see beyond his uniform to the quiet, thoughtful man he actually was. If the world were fair, he would have been a vicar rather than a soldier.”

“While I did share a home with Major Hewlett as well, others were allowed to see his finer qualities more then I did. I am sure my father-in-law, or Mrs. Strong would have a very different opinion of Major Hewlett then I hold.”