#but yeah anyways Menos didn’t do anything to deserve this

[quibbs126]

No literally, why would you do this to us, and to this poor man?

He has literally done nothing wrong and he does nothing but suffer

Though to be honest, I kind of think his dad’s hotter, at least in that opening cutscene

Evoland II gave me a dilf and keeps hinting at a bad ending why would you do this to me

[cookieswriting]

Can’t Be Happening Pt. 2 (SEAL Team)

So yeah...this is gonna be a few more chapters than just the 2 I originally anticipated.  Kinda got away from me *shrugs* ooooh darn. Bit of language and violence in this chapter.

“Why the hell are we not going after these sons of bitches right fucking now?! Did we not all just watch the same fucking video?! Clay doesn’t have time for us to twiddle our thumbs and wait for the cake-eaters to weigh the costs of going after one of our own!” Sonny paced restlessly, images of his brother being manhandled by Doza’s men replaying across his mind.

Jason stopped him with a strong hand on his shoulder and steady stare.  “We can’t just go in guns blazing and expect him to still be alive when we make it to him, Son...we need to figure out exactly where he is and what we are going to do before we can get him back.  Let’s focus on that in the meantime, deal with the red tape if it’s still there when we have a plan, yeah?”  Sonny held his gaze for a long moment before relenting.  Jason nodded and turned back to the computer screen with a steadying breath. “We need to watch it again.  Captain, I need your men to identify anything that can help us determine where they are.”  He turned to Davis and Mandy.  “You don’t need to stay in here for this…”

Despite the tears in their eyes, both women stood firm.  “Not going anywhere, Bravo One,” Davis murmured.  Sonny found himself wanting to reach out to take her hand, both to give and take comfort as the hostage video featuring their youngest teammate began to play from the beginning.  Even before they pulled the hood off, the Texan could read the tension in Clay’s posture, could hear the hitch in his breathing.  Not to mention the blood staining his white Mexico shirt meant to cast him as a tourist.  Even before the bastards started filming, they’d done a number on the kid.  

And yet, once the hood was removed and he was forced to his knees, he refused to give any sign of faltering. Even when they punched him multiple times and yanked his head back by his sweat-matted curls, Clay refused to cower or beg for help.  When the video first came to their attention, the Mexican Marine captain had translated for them, relating Doza’s demands for money, release of cartel leaders, and their immediate departure from the country.  Watching it again, seeing the abuse his brother was suffering for him, spiked Sonny’s rage once again, and he turned and punched the nearest wall.  Trent pulled his arm back before he could strike again, and restrained him against his own chest.

“Easy, brother, this isn’t going to help Clay.  We’ll get the chance to make these assholes pay for this, we’ll bring our boy home, but if you break your hand you’re not going to be able to do much good for him.  Hold off on letting out that anger til we’re face to face with Doza and his men.”  After a few steadying breaths, Sonny backed down and forced himself to sit down.  Brock squeezed his shoulder, and they all turned to the local force as the video ended.

“This is a building in the center of Doza’s territory.  It will be very difficult to get to your man without him being alerted to your presence, and then your man will be killed anyway.”

“That’s not gonna cut it,” Jason replied, anger simmering just under the surface.  “How do we get to this son of a bitch and get my man out?”

“He has eyes everywhere, Master Chief. I’m sorry, I do not believe that it will be possible.”

“The brass Stateside isn’t going to green-light the rescue if we don’t have some kind of plan, Captain. We don’t need much of a chance...we just need something.  Please,” Mandy implored as the men grew more agitated and restless.  She took a slow breath, knowing her next words would not go over well with them.  “He deserves for his brothers to bring him home, whether this is going to be a rescue or a recovery.”  At that, Davis ducked out of the command center.  No one could deny her statement, though...they’d all seen the blood on Clay’s face, the tension and awkwardness in his posture that only they would recognize as signs of agony.  If they didn’t get to him fast, Clay Spenser would not survive his captivity, no matter how stubborn he was mentally.

The young SEAL in question was dragged from unconsciousness by the persistent stabbing pain of his abused muscles being strained, chained overhead until his now-bare feet barely touched the ground.  They’d used him for a ransom video for the American government, which he knew would have the guys up in arms.  As he hung...wherever they were, Doza’s men shouted demands at him in Spanish; questions about Naval intelligence, border protection weaknesses...the ususal.  

“Please,” he whimpered, emphasising his pain and exaggerating his desperation.  “I don’t know what you’re saying...I don’t know what you want.  I...I’m just a tourist…”

One of the men was suddenly in his face, and reached around to grab his hair roughly when the blonde flinched away.  “You were awfully calm during our little message for just a tourist.”

“I-I couldn’t understand a word you were saying, and it hurt to even breathe, man...I didn’t want to make it worse! I’m sorry, I don’t know what you want from me...please just let me go!” Fresh pain erupted across his cheek as his captor punched him again, and it took everything in Clay not to bite out a sarcastic comment.

“I don’t believe you.  My friends here don’t believe you.”  The man stepped back and drew a long serrated-edged knife.  “If you don’t give us answers, you are going to die a very painful death.  Do you understand me?”

Clay summoned as much fear as he could, and tears burned his eyes.  Well shit, this is gonna hurt…“Please!  Please, no, I don’t know what I could possibly tell you!”

“You were with US military agents working with the Marinas.  Tell me where there are weaknesses at your borders!”

“I wasn’t, I swear! I’m just on vacation from grad school! Nonono please-” The blade didn’t hurt so much as it sank into his right flank just under his ribcage.  No...it was the catching of the serrated edge as it was drawn back out that had Clay crying out and ready to sink into oblivion again.  

“Oh no, my friend, you do not get to escape just yet.  Tell me where your team is and I will end your suffering quickly.”  Clay sobbed through the pain, grateful for his ‘innocence’ cover giving him the excuse not to play tough.  Hopefully my team is getting your sorry sonofabitch boss Doza and this isn’t for nothing…

Jason looked up when Blackburn slammed the phone down, anger and frustration evident on his face before the Lieutenant Commander dragged his hand over it.  “There is no way in hell they denied us going after Clay,” Hayes growled.  All eyes turned to the officer, who sighed heavily.  

“They are saying the usual...we do not negotiate with terrorists and our team is too close to get him out without letting things get personal.”

“Any team they send would make it personal,” Brock muttered, petting Cerberus to calm himself down.  “Friggin’ cake-eaters don’t understand the concept of brotherhood.”  He looked up around the room.  “So how are we going to do this?”  Sonny and Trent nodded, and Ray leaned against the desk with forced calm.

“Blackburn, if you need to leave for plausible deniability-”

“Like hell I’m going anywhere,” Eric snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. “By the time they would send another team down, if they even plan to, Spenser would probably be dead.  We are going after him now, and we will deal with repercussions later.  Captain.”  He turned, surprising his Mexican counterpart.  “What do we have?”

“You are going to disobey your superiors?” Garcia questioned.  

“As I said, there is not time to wait for a new team to arrive, and my men are considered the best for a reason.  We do not leave any teammate behind under any circumstance.” The Mexican Captain looked to each of the Americans for a long moment before nodding with a grim smile.

“You know the guys would never leave you behind.  They’ll come for you soon, baby...you’ve just got to hold on a little bit longer, okay?  Stay with me.  I’m right here.”  The comforting, familiar scent of Stella’s shampoo filled Clay’s nostrils, and he wanted nothing more than to nuzzle into her hand, warm and comforting on his cheek.  

The second he shifted his head, though, agony seized his entire body, and the young SEAL was jarred back to reality.  Stella...Stella wasn’t with him.  Thank God for that, Clay thought to himself.  Even though it hurt to remember that Stella had broken things off with him before they’d shipped out to Mexico, the thought of her being with him in this hell-hole made him nauseous.

Or maybe that was the hole in his gut, the probable concussion, the fact that his arms were screaming at him as his feet began to cramp trying to hold his weight on his toes.  He knew without a doubt that his brothers would come for him, but found himself beginning to doubt that they’d make it in time for a rescue.  The blood soaking his side was enough for him to worry about, and explained how lightheaded he was.  If he was hallucinating, though...must be closer to the end than I thought.  

“Oh, our blue-eyed friend is back in the world of the living!” Clay tried to lift his head, suddenly feeling like it weight two hundred pounds, and clenched his jaw to fight back the bile rising in his throat as the room spun.  “Well, mas o menos...hey! We’re not done with you yet, man! You can tell me all you want that you’re just a tourist, but I am calling bullshit, so wake your ass up!”

No matter how hard he tried to comply, Clay couldn’t gather the strength to move more than his eyes.  The cartel thug in front of him became increasingly annoyed and started ranting in Spanish, but the blonde’s mind was too sluggish to translate.  A sudden crack accompanied an explosion of agony in his left leg, which no longer bore his weight.  His already-strained shoulder gave out with the lurch of added weight, and Clay lost his battle against throwing up.  

Time stopped making sense after that.  Any moment of awareness was overshadowed with black dots dancing across his vision, and anything that they might’ve been saying to him was completely lost.  Every inch of his body was pain...his wrists, chafing from the shackles. His left shoulder, at least dislocated.  His face, beat to hell. His abdomen, still leaking.  His left leg, probably broken, right cramping from bearing his weight.  It was a miracle that he was still conscious, let alone breathing.  

The distorted sound of gunfire erupted around Clay, and lights flashed in his eyes.  Shouts were abruptly cut off, and Mexican Marina camo filled the room.  Sonny’s face filled his field of vision, and Clay was sure he’d started to hallucinate again.  “We’ve got you, brother...just hold on a little bit longer...gonna get you home...take you down first...gonna hurt…” His brother’s voice kept cutting in and out, probably along with Clay’s consciousness.  Did that mean they were really there?

“So...Sonny...please...don’t let Stella...blame herself,” Clay breathed, breath catching as they moved him.  Not a hallucination then...his brothers had really come for him.  He knew they were bracing him to bring him down from the chains, but couldn’t work up the strength to warn them about his potentially broken leg, so when they did ease him down and his foot touched the ground, the stab of pain sent him back into oblivion.

[nighting-gale17]

seven for a secret never to be told

Barely getting this Thanksgiving fic in by the skin of my teeth- which is unsurprising for me.

I hope you guys enjoy thisI just wanna give a HUGE shoutout to @sailingthecs I probably wouldn't have been able to get this to a place I'm okay with posting if it wasn't for their encouragement and cheering me on <3 thank you Bon!!!!!!

Buck isn’t sure why everyone is under the impression that he can’t speak Spanish.

He would have found it amusing if it wasn’t so annoying. He lives in Los Angeles for fuck's sake, and he works with the public daily—not to mention the summers he spent down in Ecuador bartending. And, yet, standing here at the Diaz Thanksgiving party, Eddie’s family spoke freely of their opinions of him right in front of his face as if he didn’t understand everything they said.

“No puedes ser serio.” An annoyingly high-pitched voice said behind him, the tone making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. “¿Visto lo que hizo antes? Menos mal que es bonito.”

Someone else behind him giggled in agreement. “Oí que es un poco playboy.”

“¿Crees que Eddie compartirá?” The other woman purred, making Buck’s anxiety start to climb. “Me encantaría conseguir un pedazo de eso. Una vez una prostituta, siempre una prostituta.”

Buck bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything, trying to ignore the way his hands were starting to sweat as he grabbed two beers from the cooler in front of him. He knew there were people in Eddie’s family that weren’t too keen about the two of them dating—he knew they’d tolerated Shannon because she had given them Christopher but it seemed they couldn’t even try with him, despite his best efforts.

Buck shook the thoughts from his head and carefully maneuvered his way past the two women openly staring at him and through the kitchen. He desperately tried to ignore the woman’s words despite the way they seemed to echo around in his head. They were wrong. He wasn’t that person anymore. He  wasn’t .

“Esto es el novio de Edmundo.” He heard someone speak behind him, the disgust in his voice distinguishable in any language.

He kept his gaze down as he moved through the house and into the back yard, letting out a breath of relief he hadn’t realized he had been holding when he spotted Eddie across the yard. He managed to make it to his boyfriend’s side in record time, shoving Eddie’s beer in his hand and practically plastering himself against his side.

“Well, hello to you too,” Eddie said, amused until he took in Buck’s rigid stance and the tension he was holding in his shoulders. “Babe, what’s wrong?"

“Nothing it’s—” Buck cleared his throat, shaking his head and picking at the label on his beer to avoid eye contact. “It’s nothing. I’m fine. Just—a lot of people here.” he said after a moment, internally cringing at the weak excuse.

“Yeah, I’ve got a lot of family that decided to come up this year,” Eddie said, somewhat apologetically. He wrapped his arm around Buck’s waist and pressed a soft kiss against his temple. “We can leave if it’s getting too much, cariño.”

Buck closed his eyes for a moment, relaxing into Eddie’s side. “No, I’m alright. You haven’t seen your family in ages, anyway.” Not since Shannon’s funeral. Eddie deserved to be able to enjoy his family’s company without the depressing atmosphere hanging over them.”

The entire Diaz family was gathered at Eddie’s Abuela's house for Thanksgiving this year. When Eddie had warned Buck about the size of his family, he’d brushed it off, but now he was seriously regretting it. He was not prepared for the sheer amount of family Eddie seemed to have that made the trip to LA this year. Aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews, and grandparents—Buck didn’t even know it was possible to be related to so many people.

They came from all over the place too. Since Eddie is half-Swedish and half-Mexican, there was an interesting mix of culture at this particular thanksgiving. He had family from the states, Mexico, Bolivia, Ecuador, and he was sure there were more places that just flew over his head.

It was definitely a certain kind of culture shock to Buck. He’d spent the last who knows how many holidays alone and now? Well, as grateful as he is to have this little family he’s started to build with Eddie, sometimes it did get a little intimidating.

Buck spotted more members of Eddie’s family openly staring at them and whispering to themselves. He sighed, turning his head and murmuring into Eddie’s ear, “I don’t think your family likes me very much.”

He felt more than saw Eddie frown. “What do you mean? My tia and abuela love you.”

“Just… some things I’ve heard them saying.” Buck muttered, reluctant to go into any details. He felt himself relax a little when Eddie’s squeezed his hip comfortingly and ran his thumb over the small strip of exposed skin above the waistband of his jeans. “For some reason, everyone here is under the impression I can’t understand what they’re saying about me.” he huffed a little. “As if I would meet my boyfriend’s family without understanding their first language.”

“I’m sorry, mi amor.” Eddie’s voice was tinged with anger and regret. “My family is very… traditional, still, in some ways. I’d hoped they wouldn’t be rude enough to say anything to your face but it looks like I was wrong.”

“Ah, Eddie, Evan, there you are.” Buck felt a genuine smile spread across his face as he looked up and saw Eddie’s abuela walking toward them, a sleepy-looking Christopher at her side. “I’m glad I found you. This one looks like he’s ready to fall asleep on his feet.”

“About to fall into a food coma, buddy?” Buck asked teasingly, bending down and picking Christopher up in his arms. “Did you eat the entire turkey?” he asked, a fake frown on his face as he pretended to struggle lifting Christopher up. “You’re lucky I’m so strong!”

Christopher giggled and wrapped his arms around Buck’s neck, nestling his head in the crook of his neck. “Y-You’re super strong!”

Buck hummed in agreement and when he glanced over at Eddie he felt his heart squeeze tightly in his chest. His boyfriend was staring at him fondly, a soft smile on his face and Buck couldn’t help but smile back at him. It wasn’t until they heard sniffling and broke their gaze to find Abuela—alarmingly— blinking back tears and dabbing delicately at the corners of her eyes.

“Abuela, ¿que es?” Eddie asked, suddenly concerned. ”What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Abuela said, sniffing a little before smiling at the two of them, her eyes shining with unshed tears and happiness. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you this happy, mijo.” She smacked his arm and pointed her finger at him sternly. “Don’t you dare let him go.”

“Ow!” Eddie whined, rubbing the spot on his arm his abuela smacked before quickly dropping the act at the unimpressed look she gave. “Of course, abuela,” he assured her.

“And I’ve missed seeing these baby blues around,” Abuela told Buck, gently tapping her hand against Buck’s cheek and making him blush. “I expect you here bright and early next weekend for our cooking lesson.”

“Si, señora,” Buck said obediently, a grin tugging at the edges of his mouth.

Abuela chuckled and shook her head. “Cheeky. Make sure you boys eat enough food before you leave.” she chided before she walked off to greet the other guests, muttering something about skinny grandsons under her breath.

“Cooking lessons?” Eddie repeated, his eyebrows scrunching up adorably in confusion.

“Yeah.” Buck bit back a smile. “She refuses to write down her recipes and told me the only way I would get them is if I came over and made them enough I’ve memorized them and write it down myself.”

“Is that how you were able to make that delicious flan the other night?” Eddie wondered.

“Yeah.” Buck grinned proudly, a blush spreading across his cheeks. He opened his mouth to say something else but the words died on his tongue when he heard someone behind him speak in Spanish about him—about his looks, his perceived lack of intelligence.

Although Eddie looked like he was going to start a fight right here in the middle of his abuela’s backyard, instead he just clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes at someone behind Buck’s shoulders. “Come on, let’s go,” he said stiffly, running his hand down Buck’s back. “Christopher’s already half asleep and I think we’ve had enough family socializing for one evening.”

Buck wasn’t about to argue with that. He carefully held Christopher in his arms while they started to head out, the young boy dozing against his shoulder as Eddie said his goodbyes. It wasn’t until they made it to the front door, saying one last goodbye to Eddie’s tia and abuela that Buck paused, the itch to say something to Eddie’s family too strong to ignore any longer.

“Gracias por esta hermosa cena,” he spoke to Eddie’s abuela, quietly enough to not disturb Christopher but loud enough everyone could hear him. His accent was smooth after several summers of being immersed in the language, and he couldn’t help but feel a little smug at the shocked looks on the faces of Eddie’s family. “No puedo esperar a ver a todos de nuevo en Navidad.”

The quiet gasps and mutters that spread through the crowd of relatives helped ease some of the hurt and bitterness in his chest—he really couldn’t bring himself to care if he was being a little petty. They should know to never judge a book by its cover.

He leaned down and gently kissed Eddie’s abuela on the cheek goodbye before he turned and followed his boyfriend out the door. “Did you see the look on their faces?” Buck asked, unable to bite back a grin.

Eddie shook his head in amusement, pressing a quick kiss against Buck’s cheek as he lead them to the car. “I’ve got a feeling the next family gathering will be a lot better.”