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About Literature / Hobbyist Member Xena RedgraveFemale/Argentina Recent Activity
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Xena Redgrave
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
I'm trying to get back in track with my stories. If you're wondering about the constant updates for the Frank Woods fic, that's because I already had the fic written out a long time ago but I haven't decided to post it on dA until now. So, no, I'm not actually working on new fics as of now, unfortunately :( 

I know I've been procrastinating a lot and I apologize for that :c it's just that I haven't felt the inspiration to keep writing (mainly I have no idea of how to continue my stories) and I am having some family issues and my sister recently left to work in another city so I'm on my own. 

Anyways, I'm so sorry for the inconvenience! :cries:
  • Mood: Shame


Mature Content Filter is On. The Artist has chosen to restrict viewing to deviants 18 and older.
(Contains: nudity, sexual themes and strong language)

Explicit content and coarse language. You have been warned.

Chapter VII

His eyes went wide and he looked at you, as if not believing what you had just said— those raw and indecorous words coming from your mouth no less. It looked as if you had slapped him with that bewildering statement, when you began to shed your robes and flashed him your nude body with pride and resolve. He saw it in your eyes, deep within; there was something strange about the way you carried yourself this time, leading and demanding from him— something you never dared doing before.

There was a flicker of doubt in his blue eyes and you shook your head, showing that you would not take ‘no’ from him as answer. Sitting on his lap, your fingers ghosted from his cheek to his jaw gently, your mouth ghosting over his, teasing but never kissing. His pupils turned into slits and his breathing caught in his throat, almost coming off strained in anticipation. It was a reaction that made you smile a bit with pride, this sense of power over him growing stronger when you softly traced the contour of his shoulders and neck. Frank was not a man of patience, though, and was quick to catch you off guard. It was no wonder one of his hands was already working its way up from your waist, grazing your chest before holding your face with gentleness.

You had no patience, either.

It was not long before your lips crushed against his once more, and you were drowning in a heated kiss that had him holding you tight. It started slow, with him nipping your lips, but soon turned into an unrestrained display of covetous need as he disposed of your clothing and caressed your breasts. His rough hands were gentle with you and you sighed when his mouth traced a path to your neck, winding your arms around him as his touches delved south. A gasp left your lips and you arched your body, feeling his prickly kisses cover your collarbone and the soft burning moisture building between your legs. It was unbearable hot; it tingled and stung at the same time and it was pain muffling a scream of impatience that dangerously clung from your throat.

Then, despair, loneliness and fear hit you in a violent wave but you only noticed the tears in your eyes when you blinked them away. All of a sudden, you were overwhelmed by a feeling of happiness that he was with you at last. He had come this far just for you and, for a moment, you felt guilt that he had to relive the horrors of his past just so you stay alive. You were almost terrified of letting go of him, as if you would be immersed in a strange limbo of endless mist if you parted from him for a second. You wanted to silence that mocking voice that echoed in your head— her voice. You wanted to forget the things she had shown you, the pain she would bring— the one she had made you feel. The suffering and hurt you now were seeing in his gaze, as the back of your hand wiped those tears.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, not quite knowing what you were even saying, too lost in the delusion of your fears and desires. “Please, Frank, I need you. I need you now.” You felt the burning lump in your throat, making it almost impossible to let the words out.

Unable to wait any longer, and driven by your plea, he embraced you and it was all you needed to drown in the desire of his lips. You hungrily devoured his mouth as you fully pressed against his bare skin, never wanting to let go. His fingers tangled in your hair and, at some point, you found yourselves on the ground, unable to even think about the discomforts it would bring to your unforeseen encounter. For him, at least; you were cushioned against his chest. He stroked your nape, gently tracing a path down your spine, and you sighed into the kiss, welcoming the sensations. Unexpectedly, his tongue slid in your mouth and sought yours, his hands holding your hips and fingers burying in your soft skin.

His muscled and tattooed arms slid around your waist but he stopped his ministrations altogether, looking at you with burning need. His blue eyes were deeper than usual, his mouth slightly open in anticipation, and your throat went dry at the manliness he gave off even when you had believed to have the upper hand.

“Say it again,” he rasped, out of breath. It took you a moment before you could even understand what he was asking, and he impatiently growled, tugging your hair softly yet with enough strength for you to know he meant business. His possessive demeanor surfaced once he rolled you on your back, your skin meeting the softness of your clothes as your body was fully exposed to his shameless hunger. It made you shiver when his breathing was dangerously close to your breasts, his lips ghosting over sensitive and responsive skin teasingly. “Say that again.”

His stubble deliciously scraped the valley of your rounded flesh and you arched against him, whimpering your suffering when he worshipped you at his leisure. You tried your best to muffle your gasps and moans, tugging his hair to bring him closer to you, but there was very little you could do. His tongue knew what places to touch and you were not even given the chance to fight back, too breathless to even say something as your teeth gritted and your body trembled in agonizing pleasure. It was all you could think of as your fingers slid to his front, seeking the fly of his pants, wanting to waste no more time to get down to business. It was not until your arms were pinned to the floor that you were faced with the truth of your current state, his wild eyes looking into you as you cried in frustration and anguish.

You did not want to wait any longer. Your insides ached, throbbed with a deep-rooted need to be his. You could not wait any longer. You were burning, feverish, and it would take him so little to make you beg for release. His strong body hovered above yours, arousal drifted in the evening air as you stared with half-lidded eyes into the fire that burned in his gaze, its flames scorching you in the inferno of lust. There was only so much you could resist at the moment, but you too knew there was only so much temptation he could endure in your torturing hands so you thrashed beneath him, intent on getting what you wanted.

“Fuck me,” you repeated shamelessly, resisting the urge to smile in triumph when his breathing hitched in the back of his throat. “I want you.” And that was it; his hands desperately released himself from the painful constriction that his pants had become. All the while you were urging him to hurry the hell up, raising your hips to meet his and trying not to suffocate in the outburst of emotions and feelings you were experiencing. “Now, Frank. Now!”

There was only so much distance you could bear once you felt him push into you, slowly, as though you were something fragile that he was scared to shatter. But you were not up for games or thoughtfulness. Still, you could not say whether he was teasing you or being a gentleman but impatiently pressed yourself against him, moaning in delight when for the first time you knew each other in the flesh.  

His strained groan made you shiver as you clung to him in the heat of your intimate embrace, your body surrendering to the erratic pace he set in no time. You could not help but reciprocate with strangled cries of your own, and moved in time to meet his frantic thrusts, engaged in this journey to blissful utopia— one you had only dreamed for a long time. Though the scenario was different from what you had conjured, it was even more overwhelming than you could have ever imagined. Bodies melding, it was impossible to tell where you ended and he began; almost impossible to dissociate him from you, to believe that you were two different people at all. You refused to believe that absurd truth in the beauty of this long awaited moment, as your insides uncontrollably quivered and his fingers gripped the skin of your hips, on the border of despair.

It became hard to breathe as his thrusts grew more demanding and unpredictable, his flesh stretching you and filling you relentlessly. His tempo built up with every second that passed and the tension kept increasing, full of raw passion. In the end, you knew there were no romantic pleasantries to be spared when nails scratched and teeth bit every patch of skin they could reach. As soon as you became entangled in the lust you had held back for a long time, there were no restraints to be regarded. You and him shamelessly sought the pleasure you had craved, skins becoming moist with the irrepressible heat that ran through your veins and threatened to consume you whole.

Whatever shred of control he could have had was forgotten when you rhythmically clenched every time he slid in you, and your legs closed around his waist to keep him in place. His hands were all over you, molding you to his body and your mouth was savagely abused by his. You felt yourself unable to endure this blur of crushing sensations, on the verge of tears, as you attempted to push him on his back and take over, just so you could have the chance of finding the sweet paradise you tasted for a brief moment. Still, he would not let you, for his arms enclosed around you and pressed to him, his growls growing in cadence and strength against your neck.

You wanted to cry, wanted to beg him to let you feel the sky at the tip of your fingers, once more, and breathe into the ethereal dream of secrets that were yet to be discovered. But there were no words exchanged, only the joy of being alive after a long and perilous journey. Only the bliss of being in his arms after desolation. There was only you and him on the top of this mountain. Only your cries and moans as you gave in and let him made you his.

At some point, you were conscious enough to realize he had stopped when a sudden movement placed you on top of him. Now that you were not constantly struggling to keep up with him, you were able to appreciate the hazardous sensual look in his sapphire eyes, as he silently asked you to take over, if only to see you in the glory of your mystical release.

A layer of perspiration covered your flushed skins and his hands gently slid up your thighs, finding the curve of your waist to grip it and lower you to him. You had to bite your lips to swallow a scream, watching as he gritted his teeth and hissed at the tight feeling of pleasure that followed. It was impossible control yourself for very long, as you felt every inch of him pleasuring you— the hotness, the slickness and the thrill of such erotic intimacy.

It was ecstatic, revealing, almost liberating when your soul felt one, complete, and found that which you thought had been lost— stolen forever. When you reached that point of no return, when you dared make a leap of faith, you learned to let go and live. The world collapsed onto itself and you fell an eternal fall and into a certain death that you did not mind dying once again. Fire purified and water brought new life within, your body taking in its very first mouthful of air after what had felt like ages— like an eternity lived in darkness. Warmth and epiphany spread to every corner of your being and there was only the elation of sharing his rapturous release. He watched you ride yours under the Sun, your hair garlanded by its rays and stray white petals, before you lost strength and gave in, collapsing softly on his chest.

There could only be so much to say in a moment like this so you remained silent, listening to the faint whistle of the wind that cooled down your still scorching skins. He kept you warm, however, and you snuggled to him until he too had recovered from his idyllic abandon. There was nothing to be said, though. Even if you had thought about the millions of words to convey your feelings, there was nothing that you could have said that you had not already shown him.

You found rejoice in the knowledge that, somehow, something good came after all bad things, just like the calm after a seemingly endless storm.  

It was also known that the calmness always preceded one. When you closed your eyes to the setting sun, a familiar singing and the distant cry of a child echoed in the temple but you slept ignorant of the life that began to grow inside of you.
Frank Woods x Reader - CoD Black Ops EPILOGUE
This is the last chapter! :dance: so I hope you enjoyed it... and that the smut wasn't so bad. I love writing it but I'm a disaster ;A;



I do not own Call of Duty Black Ops or its characters, neither do I own the Tomb Raider story line. No copyright infringement intended. This story is written for the entertainment of the readers and by no means do I have lucrative purposes.

First: Frank Woods x Reader - Call of Duty Black Ops Ch 1

Previous: Frank Woods x Reader - Call of Duty Black Ops Ch 6
I'm trying to get back in track with my stories. If you're wondering about the constant updates for the Frank Woods fic, that's because I already had the fic written out a long time ago but I haven't decided to post it on dA until now. So, no, I'm not actually working on new fics as of now, unfortunately :( 

I know I've been procrastinating a lot and I apologize for that :c it's just that I haven't felt the inspiration to keep writing (mainly I have no idea of how to continue my stories) and I am having some family issues and my sister recently left to work in another city so I'm on my own. 

Anyways, I'm so sorry for the inconvenience! :cries:
  • Mood: Shame
Mature Content Filter is On
(Contains: nudity, sexual themes and strong language)

Coarse language and sexual situations.

Chapter VI

“Frank?” The pained expression on your face, as you fought to open your eyes, did not go unnoticed by him and he hurried to comfort you the best he could. Your head was resting on his forearm and he was kneeling, so you could get comfortable in his hold. It felt odd to him, in all honesty. Never before had he ever attempted such a menial task with a woman, and he was not sure the words could easily come out— even when he was dealing with you. He could only think of bringing you closer to him, if only to make you feel safe.

Shh. It’s all over. It’s over now.” Frank saw the tears gleaming in your eyes, and how badly you wanted to cry, as you gave him a bittersweet smile. You could not hold back, however, and a sob escaped you before you started to choke on your words, burying your face on his chest.

It took a while before you had calmed down and were capable of any comprehensible speech, but all the while you were grabbing fistful of his clothes. You practically threw your arms around his waist and pressed yourself tightly against him, not caring about the grime on his garments or the smell of sweat and blood. Quite honestly, you could give a damn about it at that moment. After the nightmare you had been through for the past days, those arms felt the safest and most comforting place in the world. Even though this was not the circumstances you had dreamed of this happening, you were so damn happy to be with him.

“You’re here, Frank. You came for me.” You mumbled with a tearful smile, and he placed a hand on the side of your head.

“I told you that I’d come and get you, didn't I?” He barely could believe it that he had survived, that you were at long last reunited.

He noticed that you had been dressed in a flimsy white kimono-dress that provided little protection against the colder than hot weather, and you were shaking like a leaf in his hold. Your hair tickled his nose, and he noticed that the crown of white flowers on your head still was fresh and fragrant, just like you— an observation he could not help but make. Quite honestly, he did not want to think of you grooming for your own funeral but he was certain this had been the case. Either way, you were safe and sound and he was relieved that you had not gone through major and hideous detriments— or, at least, it did not look like you did. You surely had been mentally tormented by the Solarii Brotherhood but physically, he doubted it. Some way, Frank knew you would be spared from those kinds of tortures as long as you were the vessel for Himiko, since Friedrich wanted you unharmed for the trade. Even, the cuts and scratches on your skin he had seen the night of your disappearance had disappeared and he had to wonder if Himiko had anything to do with it.

"I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you had to go through all this because of me. I should have never opened my mouth. I should have never suggested that we come here. I don’t want to think what would have happened if I had lost you," you paused and fumbled with your words for a moment, too discomfited by certain thoughts in your head. "I don’t want to think about it.”

He had to chuckle at that, ready to collapse on the ground with you on top of him. Here he had just saved you from being the eternal puppet of an ancient Queen and you were worrying about him. Well, he had to give you credit, at least. It would not make him feel like an idiot if he were to admit that he had fallen for you, now. Still, he knew that regardless of the feelings between you and him he would have gone after you— it was his job, after all— but there was something strange about the whole commitment that gave him strength to keep going; the strength to reach the end of this journey.

“What you talking about?” He shook his head, trying to suppress a smile that plastered itself on his lips. “This is what you pay me for, isn't it?”

There was a brief pause on your part, as you tried to take in his words. “I know but, last time I checked, it was a job that didn't involve Chaman Queens seeking to reincarnate, even after thousands of years, neither religious fanatics nor super warriors.” You took a breath, and sighed in defeat when he remained oblivious to your point— or pretending to. “You could have died, Frank, and it would have been my fault. I told you to leave me and save yourself and the rest.”

“You think I could've lived knowing I left you behind?” Woods rolled his eyes and averted his gaze from yours, watching the storm dissipate in the skies. He could have compared the whole scene with a cheap happily ever after, from thousands of movies he had watched. However, there was something almost faultless in the way the clouds gave way to the warm Sun that greeted those lands, and a feeling of freedom could be felt in the very air he breathed in.  It was certainly a most renewing sensation that bathed him in relief, and hope, as your breathing caressed his neck. It was almost redeeming, if he dared say so. “I couldn't just do that.”

“Because I pay you for that, right?” He felt the disappointment in your voice and hurried to meet your dejected stare. If only you knew; if only he would have the courage to admit it, it would all be so much simpler. But nothing in life could be free of complications, now could it? He was very tempted to lie and tell you that, yes, he did it because it was his job— his duty. He could have lied and embraced his old life of lonely nights and ephemeral passion. He could have done that, but he had not gone through hell just so he could condemn himself to wander in the desert of desire, never to find solace and to suffer with the mirage of your promise.

He realized he could not wait any longer; he realized just the immensity of the feat he had accomplished— that you both had accomplished. You were alive after a never-ending path of trials and danger. At the end of the journey, it had been you the one who rejoiced in his victorious arrival. He wanted to stand at the edge of the cliff at the temple and be free just once. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs and let the world know that he was the one who made it; the one who cheated Death again and again and won the game. But he was content in leaning his forehead against yours in the silence that had suddenly taken over, the sound of the wind the only whisper you could hear in the loneliness that surrounded you. He saw your lips parting just barely in silent question, your eyelids closing, even before you could notice, and your shallow breathing when the gap between you and him grew shorter and shorter.

Your body knew what would happen but your brain could still not process it. In fact, you could not say a word; you were too shocked to even ask why. It felt like an eternity, like walking on thin air in a dream— thrilling but always fearing the imminent downfall. He could not be doing this— he could not actually be kissing you, or could he? It was so unlike him to do something like this and you barely could wrap your mind around the idea. Perhaps, you had been all mouth and no action since you had never truly expected he could take you seriously. At least, not a man like him.

For a moment, he looked like a kid who had been caught with his hand inside the cookie jar so he parted from you in shame and apologized. “We should get going. We still need to find the others. I hope they’re still alive.”

At that moment, you realized that you had never kissed back and you hurried to stop him before he got on his feet. Softly, you grabbed his arm and he looked at you, sideways, reluctantly allowing himself to be held back by you even when he knew better. His blue eyes were piercing and impatient as they darted back and fro, finally settling on your curious and longing gaze. You stared at each other for a long time, as if trying to figure what the other was thinking and, without a word, you approached him with gentle movements, brushing your lips against his to test his reaction. It was a timid kiss, one could say, but it was the encouragement you needed to fall into his arms and share the unspoken words neither of you could find to express.

He did not push you away and so you deepened the kiss, trying to get more of him as your fingers softly scraped his back. There was a silent plea in his lips, and you confided your wishes with the same vehemence he had begun to convey, as your touches grew more heated and full of need.

It was not long before you were trapped against the ground and his body, his mouth attacking yours as his hands desperately yanked the hem of your dress up. Neither of you could wait anymore and, when his prickly kisses were under the roundness of your breasts, you celebrated it with a mewl of praise, unable to bear the delicious torture for much longer.

It seemed almost illogical, ridiculous, to do this after you had nearly died but this scorching fire burned within you. It overpowered you all of a sudden, bringing you into a state of psychic dissociation. You did not know who you were anymore, did not know what the limit between reality and reverie was, only that you longed that union, completion, of which Himiko had spoken of in that limbo of lonely coldness when you and her were connected.

Frank still dared not touch you, despite his evident yearning. He dared not for fear of soiling you since, in his head, you looked so pure and beautiful and he was not worthy of having you— he did not feel worthy. He almost backed off but, then, you grabbed his shoulders and held him in, fingers working on getting rid of his t-shirt in a haste. Before long, it was tossed to the side and the feeling of his bare skin against your hands made you whimper in delight, as this strange sensation grew stronger and overwhelming. You cared not about the circumstances anymore. You cared not if this was not about to happen in a luxurious bedroom with a king sized bed and, instead, in an abandoned temple at the top of a forgotten mountain. You knew you wanted him, desperately. You needed him with the ruthless hunger of a soul that had been deprived from such joy for a long time.

You grabbed fistfuls of his hair and, as if it had a mind of its own, your body arched when his tongue stroked and caressed without warning. Your mind still could not register what was happening, too taken aback by the devastating sensations that robbed you of all ability to think. It was not sweet; it was not gentle. It was full of primal abandon as you spread your legs further apart and his fingers buried on the skin on your hips— as you raised them closer to his face and cried your bliss to the skies. It was anything but nice as his rough tongue slid against your tender flesh and his stubble scratched your soft skin but, for some reason, you still found yourself moving against him, desirous to reach the peak of ultimate release. Your insides ached, begged, and your voice was lost the moment you felt yourself falling over the edge, dying and reviving again to see the sky of his eyes staring into your hazed and lost gaze.

Slowly, you lifted your hands to his face and curiously traced its contour with your fingers until you reached his mouth. He remained silent, observing your flushed face, as you smiled ever so slightly and closed your eyes for a moment to gather your disarrayed thoughts. Meanwhile, Frank unceremoniously collapsed on his back, bringing you on top of his body. With a sigh of satisfaction, you pulled down your robes and happily settled your head on his shoulder, finding comfort with him as the Sun warmed up your bodies. You did not know for how long you had lain trying to get some fitful rest but, as your naked leg rubbed against his, you blurted those raw words out without any warning, unable to stop yourself.

Fuck me.
Frank Woods x Reader - Call of Duty Black Ops Ch 6
Next update is going to be the last chapter and is going to be strictly mature, meaning the mature filter will be on. Just a heads-up to be on the safer side. Thanks for reading this far :dance: 



I do not own Call of Duty Black Ops or its characters, neither do I own the Tomb Raider story line. No copyright infringement intended. This story is written for the entertainment of the readers and by no means do I have lucrative purposes.
First: Frank Woods x Reader - Call of Duty Black Ops Ch 1

Previous: Frank Woods x Reader - Call of Duty Black Ops Ch 5

Next: Frank Woods x Reader - CoD Black Ops EPILOGUE
Mature Content Filter is On
(Contains: violence/gore and strong language)

Swearing and violence.

Chapter IV

“Everything I’ve done I did to survive! How many lives have you taken to do the same?”

Ragged breathing, and fingers twitching to pull the trigger, Woods wished Friedrich had not asked that now of all times when a moral dilemma was the last thing he needed to deal with. It was not so much the implications but the fact that he was implying they were not different, as Frank wanted to believe. There not heroes here, no sense of right or wrong— no good or bad guys. As the doctor eyed him with a smug look of conceited victory, Frank wished he was not reminded he was not better than those that had lost their mind to the insanity of this madman but, in the end, he knew that he too was a beast. The truth hurt but he could not escape from it, regardless of the fact he was doing this because he did not want to lose you. Yet, it would not be fair to put the blame on you for this had been his decision all along. This was his war to fight and he was not willing to back down, no matter what.

He growled, wiping blood off of his sweaty and scowling face, staring at the German son of a bitch that was using you as a human shield. He wished the bastard had never said those words, for remorse was written all over your face as your breath hitched at the edge of a knife, and the firearm pointed at the man behind you. Frank did not want to think of the horror in your eyes, when you saw him turned into the demon he had thought had been left behind. This was the side of him he had never wanted you to see, yet here you were, and he could not think of any comforting words to say when your gaze lowered, unable to bear the guilt of what you had done.

It was true; there had never been any heroes here and he was no different from the scums that had died in his hands. He never was one, no matter how hard he had tried to convince himself that he had changed— that he had become a better man. The monster had always lived inside of him all these years, just waiting for the chance to come out and cause mayhem. And, perhaps, this was the reason you stopped fighting your captor and remained motionless, almost in a trance. Maybe you were too taken aback by the madness in the eyes of this devil painted in red to even care for your own life.

The worst part was the resignation in your gaze, as you were dragged by Friedrich towards the monastery; the way your jaw trembled and you shook your head in denial, with tears in your eyes, when the old man whispered lies to you. He was taking you away from him and there was nothing he could do to stop the old man. Frank was not willing to risk it, when there was so much to be lost. He could not risk it, now that he had made it this far, so he lowered the gun in his grasp and tried to reach for you, in vain, desperate at this point. However, he was immediately stopped when lightning struck the mountain and a pile of debris fell down, almost crushing him and blocking the main gate.

“Fucking bitch,” he cursed the Sun Queen, as he got on his feet, determined to end this once and for all. In just a matter of days, he had grown to loathe Himiko and her schemes with an unimaginable passion he never thought possible, even in his days as a soldier fighting the enemy.

Screw the Stormguard. Screw the Solarii Brotherhood. Screw Friedrich. This was between him and her; this, he decided as he climbed the ziggurat against the winds of her wrath and her vengeful might. He fought and never relented, even when her rage reached terrifying levels and the mountain temple violently shook with her unyielding force. Even in the face of her great power, he did not have it in him to fear her and would not let her bring him down that easily.

He would stop before nothing to get to you.

“Stop him! Protect the ritual!”

“Don’t let him come any closer!”

“Get the fuck out of my way,” Woods growled, as he emptied the magazine of his assault rifle on a group of Friedrich’s men that were trying to hinder his advances. Still, not even an army of Solarii or the Stormguard was able to keep him away from his goal. He pushed through the heavily guarded stronghold and against the gales that threatened to throw him into the abyss, never to see you again. Self-arrested by his ice-axe, he went prone on the ground as the rest of his foes were swept by the storm, followed by Himiko’s growing wrath when her plan backfired. His victory was short-lived, however, for time was running out.

“Oh, Great Queen, through the trials I have brought you the vessel. Pour forth and return to this mortal coil! Pour forth and be reborn! Pour forth and awaken!”

A flash of blinding light at the center of the dais, and a blood-curling scream, marked the beginning of the end. It was what he had feared all along; the horrid beauty of the shaman queen that had come to reclaim your body and discard your soul. It was almost impossible to bear. It nearly drove him crazy even when your pain seemed like a whisper, compared with the aching greed in Himiko’s despair as she clutched to you for dear life. Still, he would not feel any pity for her in the throes of her suffering.

There was no mercy to be spared and Frank felt no remorse when Friedrich died by his hands, rage and hatred burning inside of him like deadly poison— a toxic fluid that threatened to kill the last bit of his human nature. He knew it was true. He had always known that there were no heroes in this story. There were only survivors in this cruel game of madness that the Sun Queen had hosted from the very beginning. And if he had to kill the entire island so you and him were the last ones standing, he would even if it was the last thing he did.

This game ended here.
Frank Woods x Reader - Call of Duty Black Ops Ch 5

I do not own Call of Duty Black Ops or its characters, neither do I own the Tomb Raider story line. No copyright infringement intended. This story is written for the entertainment of the readers and by no means do I have lucrative purposes.


Another quick update. The good stuff starts in the next chapter ;D I need to revise the rest and then it should be finished :dance:

First: Frank Woods x Reader - Call of Duty Black Ops Ch 1

Previous: Frank Woods x Reader - Call of Duty Black Ops Ch 4

Next: Frank Woods x Reader - Call of Duty Black Ops Ch 6
Mature Content Filter is On
(Contains: violence/gore)

Gore and violence.

Chapter IV

It felt surreal, otherworldly, when adrenaline rushed through your veins. It burned. It hurt and even the tiniest hair on your nape stood on end at the sight of the lifeless man lying on the ground. Or what had once been a man, at least. His face was a grim picture bathed in blood, after you had shot his eye off, and you nearly had choked in tears after you realized what horrid deed you had done.

You had only fought to save yourself. There was nothing else you could have done when you and your foe had been struggling madly, and he was so close to snatch the firearm from your hands. If you had let him do that, you did not want to think about what would have happened to you. Now he was dead and you were escaping from your pursuers that had set the ruins of the village on fire, as the other captives ran for their lives.

You did not know how you had ended up in this place. You only remembered talking to Friedrich and, then, losing consciousness. If the ache in the back of your head was any indication then you guessed you had been knocked out and then moved to this location. You could care less about reasons, to be honest; you were more worried about Frank and the rest of the crew and you needed to find them, as soon as possible.  You were lucky to retrieve a radio from the corpse and the first person you thought about contacting was him, whom got back to you in no time and listened to your brief account of the dismal events.

“It must've been hard for you,” Frank commented, with marked sympathy in his words.

You had to pause for a moment in your tracks before reminding yourself that you had no time to waste, for your captors were not far away. Mistakes like these would be the death of you, sooner or later, you mentally scoffed and hurried to reach whatever place was not swarming with madmen. But his words lingered on your mind, and you shuddered at the realization that invaded you all of a sudden.

“It scared me how easy it was.” You mumbled somewhat calmed, though in truth you wanted to cry and cower in a corner because this situation was beyond your preparation. Never in your life had you imagined it would come down to this and if you had known it would turn into this nightmare, you would have never said a word about coming to the Dragon’s Triangle. There were so many things you regretted having said, but now it was too late.

“Frank, believe it or not, we’re standing on the Lost Kingdom of Yamatai. I don’t know what’s going on here, or why Himiko is still being worshipped, but there’s going to be a ritual fire.” Your desperate voice penetrated to the deep recesses of his soul, and he wanted nothing more but to reach for you to wipe the silent tears he knew you were shedding. But he could not and hoped it was not too long before he could see you again. “They’re going to burn me alive, just like other women before me.” You finally added with bitterness, trying to keep your voice low but finally lost it. You could not forget; you could not pretend it never happened. You just could not and it was pain for you to keep yourself together. You were scared like you had never been in your entire life and, for the first time, you knew you were going to die. “I'm so sorry, Frank. I'm sorry I brought here. I'm sorry for everything. Please, forgive me."

Frank, better than anyone knew what it felt like to deal with your first kill— your first blood— but he would have never wanted you to know about such a grisly and depressing world. A world he inhabited with his demons. It was so easy to pull the trigger, too easy to stick a knife in someone else's neck, but dealing with the horrors never was. It did not meant he could not help you find comfort, at least.

A brief static took over the radio, then silence, before he finally pressed the PTT and let the words out in a strained whisper, nearly clenching the device in his hands. “(Name), you did what you had to do. Don't feel bad for a scum like him. Just hold on; I’ll come for you. I promise.”  What else could be said? You needed to believe that, even now, there still was hope for you. It felt frustrating, despondent to keep trying and keep failing but if he stopped now he could never live with your blood on his hands. Too many people had already left him and he refused to lose anyone else— he refused to leave you even when, in a moment of weakness, you resigned to your fate and told him to forget about you and save himself and the rest.

You sighed and he could almost see the grimace on your face as you tried, with all your might, to calm down. “I really hope to see you again, Frank, but if we can’t—”

Foreign voices filled the frequency and he screamed at them to leave you the hell alone. He called out for you as you pleaded and cursed your misfortune. His chest constricted under the pressure of loss when your voice died with a scream of horror and it was not until then that he knew what true fear was. He understood in what kind of gruesome and appalling world his nightmares had taken a new shape.

This place was more than touched by doom and foreshadowed with perdition.

Time was running out and they came to understand Frank was a dangerous threat, when half of the Solarii had been slaughtered. It was clear that the man was not giving up on you, despite their efforts to get rid of him. Perhaps they had underestimated him, Friedrich thought as his men dragged the beaten up soldier, whose mad blue eyes regarded him amid bruises and blood, to him. Yet when he looked at you, the feral and wild beast was tamed, desperate to reach for you and comfort you in your pain as he was forced to watch you burn at the stake. He asked for forgiveness again and again, as he was held on his knees, and begged for you to look at him in your last moments.

It had been hard to believe, at first, even more so for a man of his caliber— a man who had only trusted in the cold deadliness of a weapon and in the sharpness of body and mind, during long nights on watch. However, he was forced to accept the truth when confronted with the undeniable facts he uncovered, as he progressed on his quest. When he attempted to stop the Solarii Brotherhood from burning you at the stake, and the fire was put out by an unfathomable force, he heard Friedrich say that you were The Chosen One— a Daughter of the Sun— and would be the vessel for the soul of Himiko, to bring her back once more.

You were the key and he was an obstacle to freedom.

Frank was baited to go help an Air Force Captain in need— the one who had been sent in answer to his SOS— just so Friedrich could put him to death. He knew he could not possibly save everyone but the guy had put his ass on the line for him and, as an act of humanity, Woods knew he had to do the same. But by the time he made it to the mountain pass, and intended to cross the bridge to help the poor bastard, he was surrounded by the Solarii and nearly blown to pieces when they destroyed the bridge with explosive barrels. He remembered being hit so hard that the world became a distorted reflection of reality, and he thought he heard inhuman growls mixed with cries of fear and pain. Frank did not know if the smell of blood drifting in the air was real, or if it was his, but before he could even try and get a better look his mind shut down and eternal nightmares followed.

Just when he thought he would never see the light of the Sun, he finally came to. However, it was to the sight of a sea of red and the smell of decaying flesh. Frank feared he had fallen into another perpetual mind torture, but the all too real pain in his head caused the early events to play in an excruciating rapid sequence of images and almost incoherent sounds. Then, he remembered the predicament he was in and it was all he needed to try and believe this was the blood-chilling reality. This was much worse; he was trapped in a nightmare— one he could not wake up from. As he dangled by his tied hands from a beam, his arms felt numb from having been in that position for too long and his stomach churned so much at the putrid stench he almost threw up. He felt like he was about to do it while he swung back and forth, trying to lift his legs up and wrap them around the sturdy wooden shaft so he could free himself. Probably not the best idea, he cursed when every muscle and bone in his body screamed in agony as he hit the floor and the wind was knocked out of him.

Slowly, he lay on his side trying to catch his breath for a moment or two. When he recovered, Frank was able to have a complete panorama of his surroundings, realizing he was trapped inside some kind of slaughter house. The amount of corpses— or rather dismembered bodies— was too many to count and even he had to admit that he had never seen such an atrocious and repugnant picture in his life. And he had done and seen some fucked up shit, before his days playing as guide for rich momma’s boys that sought adventure and thrill.

Here, he could say he had witnessed some of the most horrifying doings that revealed the true savage nature of mankind. He had seen the extreme conditions where men, turned into mindless beasts, had resorted to cannibalism to survive, ripping one another to pieces; the pain of a poor devil wailing for his daughters that had been burnt to a wisp, as sacrifices to the Sun Queen. He had seen men that had been deprived of all form of dignity, and mercy, their wills forever broken. Woods had learned that there was nothing more dangerous than a human— if it could be called that at this point— fighting to stay alive. Fighting to breathe just one more time.

He had wanted to keep you away from that but it was too late now.
Frank Woods x Reader - Call of Duty Black Ops Ch 4

I do not own Call of Duty Black Ops or its characters, neither do I own the Tomb Raider story line. No copyright infringement intended. This story is written for the entertainment of the readers and by no means do I have lucrative purposes.


So, a quick update. I have the story already written but I need to edit it before posting the rest. It's a mess and I'm so embarrassed :cries: 

First: Frank Woods x Reader - Call of Duty Black Ops Ch 1

Previous: Frank Woods x Reader - Call of Duty Black Ops Ch 3

Next: Frank Woods x Reader - Call of Duty Black Ops Ch 5

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GroundZ84 Featured By Owner Nov 9, 2014
Te felicito porque tuviste la oportunidad de darles una perspectiva diferente y de otorgarles personalidad y vida a los personajes masculinos de Call of Duty (del cual de otra forma serian prisioneros de esos juegos), a pesar de que comprendo que no apunta a alguien como yo, reconozco que está muy bien planteada la narrativa, y se nota que disfrutaste escribir cada uno de los capitulos y el esfuerzo que le pones, lo haces muy bien!. Saludos!
XenaRhapsodos Featured By Owner Nov 14, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Oh, wow... muchísimas gracias por tu comentario. Aunque mis historias estén dirigidas a un grupo específico de lectores (más bien dicho, lectoras xD), aprecio que te hayas tomado el tiempo de echarles un vistazo y dejarme tu opinión. Admito que en ese sentido tenés razón al decir que los personajes de CoD son prisioneros de los juegos porque, básicamente, no sabemos casi nada sobre la mayoría de ellos... pero creo que es principalmente esa causa la que me mueve a escribir y compartir estas historias. No serán perfectas pero al menos me divierto y creo que la gente que las lee también XD

Aún así quedé I think I've fainted. con tu comentario. ¿Sos de Argentina? La la la la  ¡Yo también! Aunque tal vez ya lo sabías lmao.
GroundZ84 Featured By Owner Nov 15, 2014
Siempre que jugaba a estos juegos me preguntaba como sería verlos en otro contexto en que no sea un simple intercambio de corchazos entre buenos y malos por doquier, quería ver si alguien tenía la posibilidad de hacer algo diferente como esto, y mas allá de para quién esté dirigido, es bueno ver que hay gente como vos que tenga la posibilidad de darles mas variedad e incluso otra forma de vida. Para mi está buenisimo experimentar con eso. Y por lo visto algunas imagenes dibujadas a mano que tienes en Fav. ayudan un poco en hacerlo, y eso está bueno.

Soy de Buenos Aires, la piloteo un poco con el inglés pero lo suficiente como para comprender la mayoria de las historias que escribiste ;)
prettyprincess45 Featured By Owner Nov 1, 2014  Student Photographer
Do you watch the walking dead by any chance??
XenaRhapsodos Featured By Owner Nov 7, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Hey! No, sorry :l I don't watch TWD ;A; I never could get into that show...
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XenaRhapsodos Featured By Owner Nov 7, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Ohhhh you're so precious ;3;
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XenaRhapsodos Featured By Owner Oct 13, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Hello :love:
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