Rwby Ghost Rider Fanfiction Novels & Stories

“As am I.” “You won’t send me back. I won’t go back there.” “Well, then, sweetheart, you best out run me,” Rider replied. Once the words were out, Raven wasted no time. She made a mental leap, likely hoping to either rematerialize in her own realm, where her physical body awaited her and Rider wouldn’t easily be able to follow, or into another stream of consciousness. Rider lunged for her just as she began to dissipate. If he could stay close enough to her, eventually he would catch up, and if he was lucky, he could grab ahold of her long enough to say the incantation that would send her to Hell.

White-gold arcs danced across their intertwined wrists, a shield of desire and raw power against the darkness closing in. Lyra gasped, heartbeat wild. “Rylan… I can feel it—he’s in me. And the Wraith… it’s here too. It’s feeding on our bond!” Rylan’s hands tightened on her waist and shoulders. “Then we burn it out,” he growled. “Together. We use everything we are. Every spark, every ounce of fire.”

she asked, positioning herself behind the solid wood of the porch railing where she'd have cover and a clear view of the approaching riders. "We're about to find out," Jax replied, though his stance relaxed slightly as the lead bike came into view. "It's Ghost. But he's not alone, and he didn't call ahead." The motorcycles roared into their peaceful clearing like a invasion force, engines cutting out in unison as six men dismounted. Ghost led the group, his pale face grim, while behind him came faces Raven recognized from their war days—Diesel, Viper, Hawk, and two newer prospects she didn't know.

I had never been this vulnerable in my life. “Let go of me, asshole!” I hissed through gritted teeth, clawing at his arm. He didn’t flinch. Of course he didn’t. The red wig finally slipped free, falling into his hand as he yanked me forward again. He froze. “Fake,” he muttered. “What more can you be, Ghost Knife?” His voice cracked like thunder in the sky. “Even your hair is a goddamn lie.” He tossed the wig aside and grabbed a fistful of my real hair. The scream I let out was sharp and instinctive—more anger than fear, but fuck, it hurt. He didn’t care. He dragged me like a ragdoll, pulling me out into the night.

The man turned into a cloud of smoke and advanced towards her paying no attention to her threats. Taken by surprise, Geneva lost her footing and fell over. He immediately grabbed her hand, turning back to his human form. "Don't you dare, don't you dare let go of me," the tears that fell from her eyes were filled with bitter regrets. My mum, my dad, my friends, my life! At this point where her life was about to flash before her eyes, many thoughts were already flashing through. I haven't even tasted the best snacks that Canada can afford and this? Stupid ghost, I haven't even re-watched 'Merlin' to my heart's content. And, and *gasp*...

"Bye, take care of her.” He nodded, and I stared at his retreating figure. "By the way, there's a ghost behind you.” I heard him yell as he left and I scoffed, “what was I? A five year old?" I still turned back to check just in case and a scream left my lips when I did. "What the fuck is wrong with you?” I yelled at Ryder, his hair was disheveled, his bloodshot eyes had enough dark circles to show that he hadn't slept in days.

I gasped through the pain. "I'm updating the insurance," Rider growled. "Now, no matter where you go, everyone will know exactly who you've been sleeping with." But as the glow faded, a look of pure shock crossed Rider’s face. He stared at the mark on my neck, then at the palms of his own hands, which were beginning to glow with the same haunting, silver light. The Mark of the Fated. Rider backed away from me as if I were a ghost, his face pale and his eyes wide with horror.

I mutter. Before he can argue, Ghost wanders up behind him with a smirk like he’s been listening the whole damn time. “By the way,” he says, “you left something on your bike.” I squint. “No, I didn’t.” “Oh, you did,” he says, dragging out the words. “Something slick, white, and dripping.” “Fuck off.” They both laugh like hell, and I just shake my head. “I’ll clean it later.” “So you’re really not coming?” Ghost leans against the doorframe beside Blaze, his grin lazy but sharp.

But at least I am with him while I am slowly leaving. "I love you too. Being touched with the ghost Clark, being touch with you is the best memories I will bring. You idiot, you evil! You wraith! Your touch is my life." My life taker.

Then, from the back of the room, someone whistled low, long, and appreciative. It was a sound that made her skin crawl. "Well, well," a greasy-haired biker, his face scarred and his grin wide, drawled, his voice thick with malicious amusement. "Look what wandered in. Reaper’s little pet, eh? Thought you could hide from us, darling?" Her throat was bone-dry, aching with the effort, but she forced the words out, her voice surprisingly steady, despite the frantic hammering of her heart.