#macclyde insp

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

Anyway I've finally found the layout if the MacClyde family cabin

[childrenoflight-darkness-nothing]

second sleeve.

I'm totally stealing inspiration from E's brother with his compass tattoo. but. hnnnnng. I love it. so the other arm. has like the compass and the map thing on the inside of his forearm. and you see the edges kinda fade on it, so it fades into something like the second picture.

castor tattoos: a thread

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

The MacClydes playing bodhárns and clapping hands and bagpipes and singing Kerridwen folk songs while dancing around a fire

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

So we see this poem all the time for foreshadowing inspiration, right? Well obviously as soon as I see it I think about the MacClydes and how theyre pretty superstitious and would know this/hold to it.

But also I find it really comforting that I always see two crows.

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

Sparks Fly

1,573 words. Ewvanda. Pre-relationship modern!au setting. Mutual pining, but Avanda is a clueless dumbass. I say mutual pining but its Av's pov so really its just her pining really hard for 1,573 words. I've been sitting on this for so long, part 1 of ?

Avanda watched the dark grey clouds expectantly. They'd been threatening rain all week, but so far hadn't actually made good on it. She was starting to go crazy. Her living situation was already...tense.  Ewan was practically moved in. If he wasn't staying on the couch here in the apartment that she and Thane shared, then she was on the couch in his family's apartment above the Base. That was ideal. Or, it would have been; could be at least. Maybe if Ewan felt the same way about her that she felt about him. Maybe if they shared more than a lingering glance when they thought the other wasn't looking. 

Maybe if they were together. 

But as it was; Ewan was only doing his job. And Avanda was only obeying her father's suggestions. She and Ewan weren't in love. They were both just following orders. 

Ewan shifted at the dining room table. He had papers scattered all across it. Maps and plans; mission summaries and intelligence reports. He was piecing something together with a precise organisation in his head that was severely lacking on the table. He shuffled a stack of reports and sighed a little. The sound was copied by the clouds outside, who seemed to be letting out a low rumble of thunder in agreement. 

Avanda turned her head to the clouds once more, a small smile spreading on her face. She waited for the first drops to begin to fall before she made her move. 

Finally. 

"Come on." She stood up from her place on the couch, pulling the hair tie out of the end of her braid. 

Ewan looked up with a slight scowl. "Excuse me?"

"I said 'come on.' I'm going outside. As my diligent bodyguard, I assume that means you're coming too." She had made it to the door by now, and was kicking off the ballet flats she wore in the house. 

"Lass--" She grinned as she heard the chair he had been sitting in scrape against the floor. "D'you not see the weather out there?"

"Of course I do." She grinned mischievously at him as she pulled the door open to the complex's shared yard space. "Why else d'you think I want to go out?" Without waiting for him to argue more, she stepped outside. 

Her feet hit the wet grass and she smiled as her fingers combed out the last of her braid. The rain felt amazing as it landed on her skin, and she lifted her face up, her nose wrinkling as the droplets hit her eyelashes. She giggled a little and spun on her toes to look at Ewan. The young man was watching her through the screen door, his arms crossed over his chest and a small smile ghosting his face. He shook his head a little and turned back into the house.

"MacClyde! Get out here!" She called with a small laugh as her feet splashed in a puddle. 

Ewan returned with her shamrock in hand. It was her only houseplant in the apartment; and a source of great pride since it was the only plant she hadn't killed. He placed it on the edge of the concrete that separated the grass and the patio space, then stuck his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall; shaking his head again as he watched her. Avanda laughed again and turned her back on him, humming quietly as her toes sank into the soft earth. Her hair was wild from the wind and the water, and she sighed happily as she pushed the tangles away from her face. She turned again to Ewan and saw that he now had a lit cigarette between his lips, and was tucking a lighter and the pack back into the pocket of his jacket. 

"Hey! No smoking!"

"I'm outside." Ewan argued, "I was told it was fine if I was out of the apartment."

Avanda crossed to him now, the mischief in her eyes growing. "Yes. But I said no smoking." With a confidence that surprised even herself, she reached up and plucked the cigarette out of his mouth, tossing it into a puddle deep enough to extinguish it. 

"Lass." His voice was thick with frustration and his eyes narrowed a little, but the smile that played at his lips still told Avanda that he wasn't really angry. 

God she wished he'd kiss her.

She shrugged. "Bad for you."

He ignored her, pulling another one out of the box. He eyed her carefully and she held her ground. Wet hair hanging in her eyes and a crooked grin still painted across her face. He dropped her gaze and lit the cigarette. She promptly pulled it back out of his mouth and tossed it to share the watery grave of it's brother. Ewan let out an annoyed hiss, a wisp of smoke escaping between his teeth. 

"Lass. These aren't exactly inexpensive."

"Then quit buying them." She shrugged and crossed her arms. 

Ewan raised an eyebrow at her and held a third cigarette in his mouth. "You're just going to throw this one out too, aren't you?"

Avanda smiled. "You catch on quick, MacClyde."

He sighed. "Look, you're getting to do your silly little stress relief out in the rain, why can't I do mine?"

"Because mine isn't hugely detrimental to my health."

"You'll catch a cold." He gently lifted a strand of her dripping hair, brandishing it at her a little before tucking it behind her ear. Her heart slammed madly in her chest, and she was terrified he would hear it. 

"You'll catch cancer." She argued. 

Ewan held her gaze for a very long time, thinking as he clicked the lighter on and off, but never lighting the cigarette. 

God she wanted to kiss him. 

The rain was still pouring down behind them and the flame from the lighter kept lighting his eyes. Each time she noticed more and more about them. 

Click. They were different colors. Click. The left one was blue, the right one brown. Click. The brown one was the same color as her coffee in the mornings. Click. Darker even. Click. When he smiled, they lit up like Christmas lights. Click. Right now they were nearly blinding. Click. And that was just with a teasing little grin. Click. What must they be like when he really smiled?

Ewan let out an even longer sigh now, returning the unlit cigarette to the carton. "Now what?"

Avanda smiled. A thought tugged at the back of her mind, and she wondered if she should ignore it. The thought slid between her lips before she had a chance to argue. 

"Come dance with me."

"You're mental."

Avanda blushed a little. "Oh, come on MacClyde. You know you want to."

"I don't dance." 

"That's a lie."

"You have no proof to support that."

"Call it a hunch."

Ewan blinked at her a few times. 

"Come on. Please?"

Another sigh. He sighed a lot. It had annoyed her a little at first, but now the sound had grown on her. It felt safe. 

"If you tell anyone--"

She didn't wait for him to finish the threat. She grabbed his hand and pulled him off the sidewalk and into the grass with her. The rain was coming down so hard that even in parts of the lawn there were deep puddles of water; splashing and rippling as droplets hit the surface. She laughed as the rain hit her skin again, and tossed her hands into the air with the thunder, pulling Ewan's hand into the sky with her's. He laughed too now, and she noticed that he was hopping on one foot, trying to pull off his boot and his sock. He stumbled slightly, and she held him up; shrieking with laughter as she started to tip over as well. Once both of Ewan's shoes and socks had been tossed to the safety of the doorstep, he turned and grabbed her waist, spinning them in a circle. The motion caught her by surprise, and she grabbed his shoulders with a gasp as her feet left the ground. Ewan spun her around and sang a chorus of some old Kerridwen song in Gaelic as he danced, and Avanda could swear she was flying. Almost as suddenly as it had started, it ended again. Ewan dropped her right into one of the puddles. Avanda screeched again and he laughed, hard. She scrambled to her feet again, flicking hair out of her eyes as she did; kicking water at him. 

"You've done it now, MacClyde. You've really done it now!" She kicked and splashed the water at him. He laughed and splashed back at her. By the time the storm had passed, both of them were soaked to the bone. Breathless and gasping with laughter and--

--and Ewan's hand clasped her's tightly as he pulled her back inside. He didn't let go as he scooped up the houseplant and handed it back to her. He didn't let go as he opened the door and held it for her. 

God, how she wished he would kiss her already. 

But as his fingers broke away from her's as he went to get some towels, she was reminded that he never would kiss her. That was only a fantasy. 

And yet….no matter what, they had danced in the rain together and laughed until their sides ached. And that was something, at least. 

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

Whumpy William MacClyde

And bc I couldnt help myself she gets to be a soft mom again Mary MacClyde

Babe I am picking face claims for ewan and adair's parents and like. Oh my god. I love them.

SHOW ME SHOW ME SHOW ME

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

Deacon James MacClyde Headcanons

He called everyone by cheesy nicknames

"Sport." "Champ." "Tiger." "Hotshot."

That sort of thing.

He became a detective because he wanted to work with Mr. A.

Mr. A was the closest thing he had ever had to a dad

Like most of the rest of the gang

Was super proud of himself when he got the job, and really excited

Tried to hide it though

Acted like it 'wasnt a big deal'

Moved out the day he turned 18.

Pretty much took Will with him. Not that their mom really noticed.

It was a crappy little studio apartment. Water in the shower was always cold, drips in the ceilings, ya know.

He and Will both slept on cots in the corners of the room, seperated by an old blanket they hung up from the ceiling.

Not great conditions really.

But Deacon and Will were probably the happiest they ever were living there.

He gave Will a hard time when he heard Will was looking into becoming a fire fighter.

Started calling him "My little Traitor brother."

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

This version of this song would play at Deacon's funeral/over the scenes of his death and funeral in the TV show.

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

Ok but the Gang are now all witnesses to a murder. That means that now they get to go be interviewed about Deacon's death, most of them with his blood still on their clothes, and Mr. A probably cant help all of them until after.

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

Literally anyone that the Archangels stay with: sorry, communal sleeping is the only option. Space is limited here. I'm sure that's not what you're used to at your fancy private school military academy.

The Archangels: we've literally never slept alone ever as long as we can remember. Without the sound of someone else snoring none of us would be able to sleep.

Magnhild: hey I'm sorry it's a one room house so we all sleep in the same space and honestly it's not even a bed its just a pile of pelts on the floor and we all crash here together I'm sorry I have no idea how it works where you're from but like communal sleeping is all we've ever known I'm sorry if it's awkward I'm sorry...

Nyar, who grew up sleeping in a dog pile with the Archangel crew: huh? Yeah no that's fine. Can I use your dog as a pillow?

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

Will barely goes home after Deacon dies. He packs up his things, and a few of Deacon's things (really he takes more if Deacon's things than he does of his own) and starts living on his own. Couch surfing, sleeping in shitty motels, on the side of the road, whatever. His mom barely seemed to notice that Deacon died, and its not like she cared about Will anyway.

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

ok, I honestly can’t think of a title, but it’s very important to me that you understand that this is what Ewan looks like here, teen!ewan, like 17 years old, ok?

Anyway, 2936 words, I think my last word count update may have been the characters, not the word count. It is Wednesday, so this is pretty whumpy. 

   Ewan grinned as Castor passed him a firearm. He loaded the gun and winked at his older brother as he snapped his gum a little. Castor rolled his eyes.

   “You’d better get this all out of your system now, Ewan. It’s not a good idea for you to be this cocky on a mission.” Castor warned, passing the seventeen year old a few extra magazines.

   “Ahhh, c’mon Cas.” Ewan said, wrinkling up his nose a little, “I have been on one or two missions before, ya know?”

   Castor fought a sigh by clenching his jaw. “Yeah? And how well have those all gone?”

   “Just swimmingly, thank you.” Ewan said with a proud smile as he tucked a knife into his boot before pulling his pant leg down over it.

   “Look, Ewan, you just need to go in and observe, ok? You aren’t doing anything more than that. Just some basic surveillance…”

   Ewan scoffed, “Are you kidding? This is full blown undercover work!”

   He was more excited than he thought he had ever been before. They had gotten wind of a meet up, where important information was supposed to be swapped between the opposing side’s contacts. On top of that, one of them was supposed to be a spy. Some one who had been causing a lot of problems for the Renegades. No one was sure if they were an insider, or just a really really good hacker, but Ewan was about to be the one to find out.

   He had orders to keep his distance, unless the spy and their contact made a run for it. Then, and only then, was Ewan allowed to pursue them. And God, did he hope they’d make a run for it.

   One of the Renegade leaders called for the team to load up, and Ewan flashed a quick smile to Castor.

   He spit his gum into a nearby trashcan, then nodded to Castor. “Have fun babysitting.” He said, digging his lighter and a cigarette out of his pocket as he walked backwards in the direction of the mission’s car.

   Castor scowled and grabbed the lighter from Ewan’s hands, just as the younger boy was putting it up to light the cigarette.    “Ewan, c’mon! We talked about this!”

   Ewan scowled and swiped for the lighter as Castor held it up, just out of his reach. “Give it back, Cas!” He snapped.

   “No! This is getting ridiculous, really!” Castor pocketed the lighter quickly, then reached over and grabbed the cigarette quickly as well, tossing it into the trashcan. “Look, just...just go.”

   Ewan let out an angry growl and turned his back on his brother, offering a middle finger thrown over his shoulder as he stormed off in the direction of the car, shouldering his backpack full of mission equipment.

********

   Ewan sat down on the bench, and pulled out his phone. His eyes were peeled as he scanned the area for--

   There.

   Exactly where they’d gotten the tip: a man in his twenties was sitting at a table, glancing around nervously.

   “Eyes on target.” Ewan muttered, glancing back down at his phone as he pretended to check some text message. He glanced back up and frowned. Another person was approaching the man from behind, quickly. They were wearing a dark sweatshirt with the hood pulled up, hiding their face from Ewan’s view. They walked passed the sitting man quickly, hands in their pockets. As they passed, they flicked their hand to the side, dropping a flash drive on the man’s table. He jumped a little, then quickly snatched it up, stuffing it into his own pocket.

   “What?” Ewan scowled, “No, no that can’t be it…”    “What’s happening?” Adair’s voice spoke in his ear from the base, where he was running the radios.

   “He...there was no sit-down. They just gave him a flash drive and then kept moving, that was it.” Ewan felt his anger rising, “The big ‘hand off’ was just a stupid flash drive. We’re not gonna get any information unless we get it.”

   He heard his twin sigh in frustration. “Did you at least get a look at whoever dropped it off?”

   “No.” Ewan growled, “They had a hoodie on, I couldn’t see anything. Wait a second…” The man checked his phone, then looked over his shoulder quickly. Ewan glanced back at his own phone, trying to hide the fact he’d been watching the other man.

   “What?”

   “May’ve been made.” Ewan grumbled, feeling a twinge of disappointment as he held his breath, watching carefully out of his peripheral vision. The man stood up quickly, looking quite distinctly in Ewan’s direction.

   “Target’s getting ready to move.” Ewan reported, shifting so that he’d be ready to spring up and follow the man.

   “Got it. Fall back to the car.”

   Ewan said nothing, eyes still glued to the man with the flash drive. He looked like a trapped animal, trying to decide which way to go.

   “Ewan?” Adair knew what was about to happen, Ewan could tell. There was a note of warning in his twin’s voice as he spoke, “Ewan, get back to the-”

   The man checked his phone one more time, looked directly at Ewan, and then bolted.

   “In pursuit.” Ewan said, quickly leaping up from the bench and following the man as he sprinted through the city streets, shoving people out of his way.

   Ewan scrambled to keep up with him, trying desperately to close the gap between them. He threw quick apologies to the people he slipped passed and bumped into, all the while, ignoring Adair’s shouts for him to go back to the getaway car. The man ducked into an alley, and Ewan grinned. He’d spent enough time in the city to be rather familiar with a number of the streets and side roads. The alley that the man had just ducked into was a dead end, and Ewan would have him trapped. He swung around into the alley, feet screeching a little on the pavement at the sudden change in direction. He grunted a little as something stung his neck, and he stumbled a little. His vision started to fog as he tried to slow down, blinking heavily. Something caught his foot, and he tripped, falling to his knees. He was barely able to get his hands out in time to catch himself.

   “Ewan? What’s happ--” Adair’s voice sounded far away, like Ewan’s head was underwater. He put a hand to his neck where the stinging was, and his fingers found something stuck there. He blinked heavily, head swimming as he tried to stand back up.

   Someone grabbed him. He wasn’t sure where they were coming from. His vision had all but blacked out by now, and he could only make out vague shapes and senses of movement. He lashed out and writhed against the rough hands that grabbed his arm, trying to wrench himself out of their grasp. More hands fell on him; his other arm, his throat, one took a fistful of his hair, and another wrapped an arm around his stomach.

   He gasped like a fish out of water, his eyes blinking rapidly as his body fell limp, his struggling coming to an end as the tranquilizer took him over.

********

   Ewan blinked heavily as he came to, his head swimming and mouth dry. He grunted as his hands strained against the rough ropes that bit into his wrists, holding his hands down, his forearms pressed tightly to what he assumed was the arms of a chair. He blinked again, trying to get a sense of where he was. He frowned when nothing came into view, just more darkness. Where was he? What had happened…?

   And then it started to click back into place. The mission, the flash drive, the dart...all of it came crashing back into place. He jolted as he woke up more, head thrashing around even though he knew it was no use; that the bag over his head was going to block his vision no matter how quickly he writhed. As if on cue, a door slammed open. Ewan jumped, attempting to gain a sense of direction as the sound echoed all around him.

   The cloth was ripped away from his face, throwing his long bangs into his eyes, along with the stigning light from above him. He winced, blinking and squirming, trying to see who had come into the room. As his eyes adjusted, he fought a bit of a grin. Standing across the small room from him was a very pretty girl. She was a few years older than him, though he doubted she was older than twenty five. She wore tight blue jeans and a dusty blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Her long, dark brown hair was held out of her face in a loose ponytail. She smiled at him, tilting her head.

   “You’re a little young to be a Renegade, aren’t you?” She teased.

   “Well, you’re a little pretty to be working for the other guys, aren’t you?” Ewan said, trying to match her tone.

   She laughed a little at him. “Charming, really. I think you and I will get along quite well.”  She stood up from the table that she’d been leaning against, stepping a little closer too him. “Do you have a name, then?”

   Ewan grinned a little wider, trying to ignore the way his heart was beating in terror. “Just call me Charming, sweethear-”

   He never even saw her raise her hand. It was just there, stinging across his cheek as she struck him.

   “That’s not what I asked, now was it?” She said, her voice still dripping with the same charm as before, “I asked if you had a name.”

   “Of course I have a name.” Ewan was actually glad for the ropes now. They held his shaking hands down, keeping the shaking hidden from her. She would never know how badly he was trembling.

   “Mind telling me what it is then, dear?”

   Ewan swallowed hard, his mind reeling as he tried to remember the training they’d given him on base. “Ewan.” First names are fine, first names are fine, first names are--

   “Ewan….?” Her voice trailed off, prompting him.

   He forced another grin. “I’ll trade you. You tell me your’s and I’ll give up mine.”

   The slap landed in the exact same place as the last one had. He gasped a little at the impact, despite his best efforts not to.

   “What’s your last name, Ewan?” Her tone was starting to get harder. “Trust me, this whole thing will go a lot easier if you just answer the questions the first time. Last name.” It wasn’t a question. It was an order. He saw her hand twitch this time, and he flinched.

   “MacClyde.” It was involuntary. He’d never meant to tell her. Her hand stilled, and the sweet, almost flirty tone returned to her voice now.

   “There? See? That wasn’t so bad!” She reached out now, running a delicate finger along his jaw. Ewan winced at the contact as her nail dragged along the red mark left by the slaps. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to be so forgiving with the rest of the questions, Ewan.” She sighed. “They’re just a little more important, so I’m going to need your cooperation.”

��  Ewan was suddenly aware of how cold the room was as she smiled at him again, her eyelashes fluttering.

   “What were you doing in the plaza today?”

   “Just...enjoying the view.” His voice shook, and he hated himself for it. Her hand shifted quick as a snake, tangling in his curls and gripping his hair tightly, pulling his head back a little.

   “What view?”

   “I was...just...just...just waiting.” Ewan stammered as her nails dug into his scalp.

   “For what?” She twisted her wrist, pulling his head back even farther.

   “N-nothing! A-the bus!”

   Her other hand rested on the back of the chair, and now she pushed backwards, tipping the chair so that it was tilted on its back legs. Ewan wasn’t sure, but he thought that the only thing keeping him from tipping back onto the floor was the constant pressure on his hair.

   “I warned you Ewan. I can’t be as patient with these questions.” She hissed, “Enough beating around the bush. What, exactly, where you doing in the plaza?”

   He whimpered as she twisted his hair again.

   “I-I was watching. I was watching a man, to see who met up with him. He was supposed to be getting information, and I was supposed to intercept it.” The words fell from Ewan’s lips like rain. There was no stopping them.

   “And did you?”

   “No.” His voice cracked as he shook his head, just a small movement. She pulled his hair, stretching his head back and sending the chair into a steeper angle. “I swear!” He yelped, “I swear, I didn’t intercept anything! I didn’t even see who it was--”

   “You saw the messenger?”

   “Not really, I just saw--”

   Her grip on his hair evaporated, and the chair fell backwards. His head smashed into the hard floor, and his ears rang with the impact.

   “You saw them.”

   “No! Not really! They had a hoodie on, that was all I saw, I didn’t see their face, I swear!” Ewan was sobbing now, blinking as she stood over him. She almost looked like she had a halo, the way the light shone from behind her.

   She said nothing, just grabbed the front of Ewan’s shirt and pulled him up, righting the chair. It rocked a little and Ewan gasped, nervous that it may tip again. She had turned her back on him, just long enough to snatch something up from the table.

“Funny that they’d send someone so fresh for such an important mission.” She mused, holding the knife up for him to see, “I mean just look at you. Green. Young.” She spat each word out, all of the sweet charm from before was gone. “You don’t have a single scar. Hell, you hardly have to shave.” She drew the knife down his jaw, scraping his skin. “Tell me about your mission then, Charming.” She purred. “Tell me everything.”

“I-I-” Ewan stammered, eyes wide as he tried to track the knife, “I c-c-can’t, that’s all, that’s all that happened!”

“Maybe. Tell me every. Little. Detail.” Each word spurred a new direction with the knife, and Ewan hissed through his teeth as he felt a little bit of blood start to trickle down his neck. “Start with the basics. What did they tell you in mission briefing.”

Ewan’s breathing was heavy and rapid as he tried to force his mind to work, trying to filter what details he could feed her from the ones that needed to stay under wraps. “Uhh, they, they told me where the hand off was supposed to happen--”

“Which was?” The tip of the knife dug into the space between his jaw and his ear.

“The plaza!” He said, leaning away from the blade as best he could, “We knew it would be in the plaza, that was-”    “Where in the plaza?”

“Wh-wha?”

The knife flicked down quickly, opening a long cut down his neck, parallel to his tattoos.

“WHERE IN THE PLAZA?” She bellowed, “HOW DID YOU KNOW WHO TO WATCH?”

“I didn’t!” Ewan sobbed, feeling the blood soak into his shirt, “I didn’t know who to watch, I was just watching for someone-”

   “WHO?”

   “I didn’t know!” Ewan wailed as the knife dug into his neck again, right next to the first cut, “I didn’t know, I just knew the general area!”    “Don’t lie to me!” The knife flicked down again, opening a second cut.

   “I’m not lying!” Ewan promised, “I’m not! I’m not lying!”

   He winced as he heard the knife clatter to the ground and cried out as she slapped him again. The blows fell hard and fast, each one stinging and sending the chair rocking back a few inches. She grabbed the knife up from the floor and gathered a fistful of his hair again, wrenching him back again. The chair tipped as she pressed the knife to his throat. Ewan sobbed, writhing under the blade as it dug into his Adam's apple.

   “Last chance, Charming.” She hissed.

   “I swear--”

   The door crashed open and she dropped him, the chair tipping back forward as she stood up, looking to the newcomers. Ewan’s eyes were filled with tears, and he could barely make out her face as she twisted it into a snarl at them.

   “What n-” the question died as she crumpled to the ground. Ewan wasn’t sure what had dropped her, and frankly he didn’t care too much. His head whipped around as footsteps filled the room, his bangs falling back into his eyes.

   “Cas!” He felt a wave of relief crash over him as his older brother stepped over the body of his tormentor and crouch next to him.

   “The next time someone tells you to get to the car, go to the damn car, Ewan.” Castor growled as he started cutting away one of the ropes at Ewan’s wrists. As soon as the ropes had fallen away, Ewan wrapped his arms around Castor’s neck, nodding as much as the cuts on his neck would allow. “Whoa, hey there buddy…” Castor dropped his knife as Ewan pitched forward so that the younger boy wouldn’t hurt himself on it. “It’s ok, I’ve got you.”

   Ewan hiccupped a little as he tried to compose himself.

   “Cas?”

   “Yeah buddy?”

   “Will you give me a haircut when we get home?”

   “Sure, Ewan. Let’s get you home first, ok?”

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

Tattoos

Alright, here's a thread about my OCs tattoos. Or at least a start to it!

Ewan

Ewan has his strings of Keridwen tattoos as well, they're really similar to Adair's. He doesnt have the combat medic one obviously, and he has a higher rank than his brother does.

He has a sleeve on his right arm, a forest of pine trees

He has a sword with wings tattooed on his back, the hilt of the sword and the tips of the wings peek out of the top of his shirt. Kinda like Zak Bagans' demon on Ghost Adventures. the sword is a Scottish Claymore, based off of his father's.

His left shoulder/chest/arm have a very intricate pattern on them, a tangle of knots and runes that go down to about his elbow, kind of similar to this

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

Only A Matter of Time

Got a bit carried away... 961 words...oops

Adair looked at the clock quickly as he checked his duffle bag one last time, humming a little to the music that was pumping loudly through his earbuds. Gloves, water, mouthguard, tape… yeah, got everything. He zipped the bag shut and pulled on his sweatshirt, zipping it up and pulling his hair back. He stepped out into the hall and made his way to the door. On his way through the kitchen, he snagged a small tomato from where Ewan and Avanda were making dinner, popping it in his mouth.

“Hey, where d’you think you’re going?” Ewan asked with a frown.

Adair pulled out an earbud and frowned back at his twin. “Same place I go every Thursday night. The match.”

“But you’ve got that date tomorrow night with your girlfriend, don’t you?” Ewan asked.

Adair shrugged. “Yeah. But she--we aren’t--she isn’t my girlfriend.”

Avanda raised an eyebrow at him now. “Yeah? Then why aren’t you telling her about this little hobby of your’s? Afraid she’ll worry about you?”

Adair rolled his eyes. “No, I just-- Look, you’ll patch me up before the date, right Av?” 

Avanda shrugged, “Depends. Are you gonna admit that you two are an item?”

Adair rolled his eyes again and backed out of the kitchen, ruffling Carrick’s hair as he went. “Yes or no, Av. That’s all I’m looking for here.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll fix you up so your girlfriend doesn’t worry. Now get going so you aren’t late.” Avanda said, tossing him another cherry tomato.

*******

Adair took a deep breath and bounced from foot to foot. He chewed on his mouthguard a little, making sure it was in place properly while he waited for the referee to introduce him. Marin reached over the rope and patted his head, tugging on the hood of his sweatshirt to get his attention. 

    “You’re up against McAvoy again, so it should be a quick fight. Don’t wear yourself out too much though, I heard a rumor that they want to do a double header after.” Marin shouted over the screaming crowd.

    Adair frowned a little and nodded. “Who?” He asked thickly around the mouthguard.

    Marin shook his head. “No idea. Just do me a favor and keep your head in the gam, ’kay MacClyde? I’ve got a lot of money riding on you.”

Adair grinned and threw the assassin a wink and a fake punch to his jaw.

“ARE YOU READY?” The ref shouted over the cheering crowd, “FOR THE SCOTTISH SMACKDOWN?”

Adair stretched his neck, leaning his head side to side as he bounced on his feet again, loosening his ankles. 

“IN THE YELLOW SHORTS, WE HAVE JIMMY “HAVOC” MCAVOY!” The crowd surged, some of them cheering in support, others letting out jeers as Adair’s opponent stepped into the center of the ring, holding his red gloves high in the air.

    “AND IN THE BLUE WE HAVE ADAIR “MAYHEM” MACCLYDE!”

    Adair wadded up his sweatshirt and threw it to Marin, then jumped to the middle of the ring, holding his fists in the air and grinning at the crowd as the cheered for him as well. 

    The ref turned away from the crowd now, waving to the two challengers to meet him in the middle. “Good luck, lads. May the best man win.” 

    Adair and McAvoy nodded to each other, and tapped gloves, before the ref stepped closer between them, whistle in his mouth. The two men stood, eyes locked as the ref stepped back with a loud whistle blast, signaling the start of the match.

    McAvoy didn’t wait, swinging a right hook fast at Adair’s jaw. Adair stepped back quickly, knowing that his opponent would start with some sudden strike. He moved back two more steps, opening up space between the two of them and forcing McAvoy to take a step forward to fill it. When he did, Adair threw a fast jab at him with his right hand. As soon as the hit landed, he threw a left hook as well. McAvoy blinked heavily, then threw a wild punch. Adair put his gloves up to block the blow, but wasn’t quite fast enough. The punch clipped his jaw a little and sent his ears ringing. 

    “I wasn’t completely sure you’d show up,” Aislin’s voice cut through the shouting, and Adair frowned, shaking his head.

    Head in the game, Addie. Head in the game. He told himself. 

    He stepped forward, throwing an elbow up to McAvoy’s nose, then kept moving forward, accompanying each step with a blow to force the other man back. McAvoy moved back a few steps, then stopped, putting his hands up and leaning forward, holding his ground. He threw a jab, catching Adair by surprise and making him jump back, loosing the ground he had made.

    “How about you? What do you do when you’re not buying ginger you don’t need?”

    This. Adair thought, throwing all of his weight behind the left hook. I do this.

He drove McAvoy back again, the hits falling like rain until the other man was against the ropes of the ring, arms up and body leaning down. Adair threw a knee into the other man’s gut, and then he thought he saw her. His eyes flicked away from his opponent just for a second, but that was all it took for him to regain his feet and shove Adair back. 

    Taken by surprise, Adair stumbled, falling over and landing hard on his back. McAvoy was on him in a heartbeat, fists pummeling him and drowning the crowd out. Adair curled into a ball, and winced, his eyes screwing shut. 

    Avanda’s gonna have her work cut out for her… he though as he felt the cuts open up and the bruises start to blossom on his shoulders and face.

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

If love is what you need, a soldier I will be.