melodramatic_malarkey
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I Don't Think We're in Space Anymore by MeowMeowRiley for Avidcatperson
Fandoms: Call of Duty (Video Games)
30 Jun 2024
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Summary
Lieutenant John Price stared into the black glassy eyes of a beast he had never seen before, and felt a fear completely foreign to him. Crouched low, it watched him through the bars of his cell. Six limbs, the fuck do you even call that? Hexapedal? Fuck if he knew. Blood covered those six limbs, that's what he knew.
When Price is sent to find out if Simon Riley is alive or dead, he gets captured himself. What happens when he finds himself staring into the eyes a terrifying creature that's definitely not from earth, but is standing just outside his cell?
Series
- Part 1 of Fics That Were Supposed to Be One-shots
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Summary
Ghost had been sure, many times in his life, that he had the worst luck in the world. Now, he could make that the worst luck in the fucking universe. Getting captured by aliens wasn't his idea of a nice Sunday, yet here he was.
The 141 knows very little about humans. They're fearsome, dangerous creatures from an even worse planet. The few expeditions foolish enough to get close disappeared entirely. The one report salvaged from a lucky ship, a long time ago, isn't really helping.
They have to figure out what to do with the one in front of them.Or, humans are space orcs but make it COD.
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Summary
The alpha in his head screams at Price as he makes his way inside and to Laswell’s office. His instincts oscillate wildly between the desire to find whoever this is and hide them from the world and the urge to run away until the smell of their abject terror is nothing but a haunting memory.
Before long, he finds himself knocking on Kate’s door. She greets him with a grim look that he imagines mirrors his own. Even though the scent has dissipated as Price strayed from the path the alpha must have been taken in, the memory of it is seared into his brain.
Kate takes a deep breath as she sits down and motions for him to do the same.
"Thank you for coming on such short notice at this hour. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that I wouldn’t have called you in personally if this wasn’t an emergency."
At Price’s nod, she picks up a small stack of papers she has on the desk next to her and hands him a few sheets.
“A&E called the clinic at 2:38 A.M., approximately 45 minutes after the patient was admitted, when he nearly bit out the attending’s throat and injured five others as they intervened.”
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Summary
One of the main characters - the only surviving witness to a murder - has just woken from a coma. Not only is she entirely cognizant, but the first thing that the subtitles say she asks for is a lawyer.
“What are you fucking giggling about?”
The other person that’s been paying attention is Flambae. He’s right next to Robert on the couch, his arm slung over the top behind his head. One foot is propped up on the other knee, also pointing towards Robert, which has him caged in the corner by the arm rest. It’s probably some fucked-up power move. Robert has been ignoring it just to spite him.
“It’s just not how comas work,” Robert shrugs.
“Right, and you know because you’re a fucking doctor,” Flambae quips back.
“I know because I was in one, asshole.”
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During a quiet night in, Robert realizes that his coma and injuries aren't common knowledge among Z-Team.
Most of them take the information in stride with jokes aplenty.
Flambae does not.
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Summary
There just had to be a jewelry store next door, that just had to have some desirable piece on display that made it the perfect target for an early morning heist...and it just had to be next to a fucking daycare.
Did Robert know the guy had a gun? Yes. But what he didn't know was that the bastard had gotten in a lucky shot.
Fuck his incredibly high pain tolerance.