#robbie reyes fic

[itsmoonchik]

Robbie Reyes as textposts

[wazzappp]

I took a shot at writing!

Thank you to @rokhal for letting me mess with your dream sharing idea its absolutely DELIGHTFUL

And thank you to @moosemonstrous for beta reading for me. Its so fucking cool to have an author I admire so much giving me advice <33!!

Basically, RE! Robbie having Jill’s nightmare from RE3 remake, and all the consequences that follow

A loud crash of thunder woke Robbie up. He blinked a few times and unstuck his face from the desk he had apparently fallen asleep on. Again. His mouth felt unbearably dry in the way that tended to happen after a good hard sleep. At least he had a glass of water ready to help him wake up.

He sipped it and let the sound of rain pattering surround him. It was usually so quiet this far out in the woods. It almost made it hard to sleep. There was no ambient sound of the freeway, no trains passing or people talking when they walked by. No neighbors banging on the door drunk at 3 AM pleading for their exes to take them back. Pros and cons to everything, he supposed.

He grabbed the book on local wildlife he had been attempting to read before drifting off and headed to his room. His back never really hurt after falling asleep in odd positions anymore. That kinda made sense. If he could come back from a fractured arm after a few minutes, a pulled muscle or two shouldn't be anything to write home about. 

He still didn't really know how to feel about… all that. At least the only thing he seemed to do was heal fast. The black mold leaking out of his eyes and writhing around the day he found out about his infection seemed to be a one time deal, thank god. Gabe hadn't been so lucky, but he seemed to be coping with his new plant powers fairly well. Were they plants? Technically speaking, the flowers were made of mold and he was pretty sure mold was something different. Would it be suspicious for him to ask the BSAA lady for a book on fungi? He still had so many questions.

They hadn’t really talked much about each other's powers - god. Powers. What the fuck was his life - after the initial ‘bike-meets-garden’ incident. He had questions for sure, he just wasn’t sure how to go about asking them. Really, what was he supposed to say? ‘Hey Gabe, I’m trying really hard to be chill about your mold minion deal, but I gotta ask; Why do you glow?’ Would Gabe even know the answer? Robbie really just hoped it didn't hurt. 

Maybe the BSAA were keeping him and Gabe to see if they could find a better cure. That seemed almost too good to be true. He shuddered at the memory of their last attempt. on the Baker Estate. Bodies shriveling up and breaking into pieces like statues made of crusted over baking soda, screaming all the while before falling mercifully silent.

He reached the end of a hallway that felt way too long and opened the door as quietly as he could so he wouldn't wake Gabe. The fact that their rooms were on two different floors really didn't make a difference. He set his stuff down on the side table next to his bed before flopping down onto the mattress. God he was tired. The day felt grimy on his skin, even though he couldn't remember what he had been doing when the sun was out, and a shower seemed wasteful at this point. A little face wash and then he could go back to bed and wake up without horribly crusty eyes in the morning.

He forced himself up and walked over to the bathroom. His private bathroom, jeez, what a luxury. Turned on the water and waited for it to warm up. He felt a tickle in the back of his throat.

Robbie coughed a couple of times and felt a bit of phlegm come up. Oh, come on. Being sick with one weird disease wasn't enough? He spat it out into the sink so it could drain along with the rushing water. 

It was black.

He stared as it swirled around and around in the sink. He coughed again. More black. More and more and more until it was dribbling in an almost constant stream down his chin. Okay. Alright. This had happened once before when he first started his medicine. It had sucked but he was ultimately fine. This was probably fine too.

He met his own eyes in the mirror and tried to take a steadying breath. The mold had started dripping out his nose. His left eye blackened and seemed to deflate. Shriveling and sinking into his skull as more mold spewed out of the rotting socket like a fountain. He wheezed and slapped his hand over it to try and stop everything inside him from leaking out. 

There was a sort of snapping in his right eye as blood vessels there started to burst. The same feeling as breaking the last few nerves holding a loose tooth in. In seconds it was entirely bloodshot. His iris lightened from it’s usual dark brown to a jaundiced yellow. The same eyes covering the creature in the boathouse that called itself Jack Baker.

He stumbled back from the mirror and felt something in his jaw break loose. He reached up to try and feel what was wrong but stopped when he caught more black spreading up his hands. His scars formed deep grooves as his flesh molded over and shrunk down to the bone. It was creeping steadily up his arms, shooting through his veins like little spiderwebs, turning his skin the dull gray of a long dead corpse. He grabbed at his arms, desperately trying to stop it from spreading, only to spill more black as his new claws dug deep into what should have been skin and muscle. It didn't even hurt. He didn't feel anything except the panic presently choking him.

The endless black spilled over and dribbled into little puddles on the floor. He shuffled further away from the mirror until his back was against the wall and watched the mold spread across the linoleum as it had spread across himself. It was spilling over the edges of the sink now. Growing on the mirror. On the cabinets. On the walls. Each part of the bathroom that he made a habit out of bleaching meticulously was covered in black speckles. Everywhere he had stepped, each place his fingers brushed. Everything he touched was rotting.

There was a gun on the counter.

Something that sounded like distress came out of his throat. It was hard to tell. It was garbled and choked and chittering. Its reverberations ran deep into his chest and rattled his teeth. The sound was utterly inhuman. He forced himself forwards and grabbed the gun. He didn’t remember how it got there. Has it always been there? He couldn't remember.

His sharp fingertips were digging into what remained of the countertop, and he was having trouble fitting his claw through the trigger guard. He eventually managed. This wouldn't kill him, he knew that. But maybe it would allow enough time for Gabe to run away and get a head start before he totally lost himself. Would it be worse for Gabe to find him with a hole in his head or as a rotting husk of himself, attacking everything in sight?

He chittered again. A strip of flesh fell off his cheek and landed in the sink with a wet plap. 

Robbie raised the gun up to the side of his head and squeezed his eyes shut. Or eye, rather. It didn't matter. For some reason he could still see his reflection. Whatever was doing this wanted him to see it through to the very end. The teeth under his horrible red eye were starting to peek through his rapidly decaying cheek.

The bang of the gun sounded off alongside his garbled shrieking.

-

Shrieking that woke him up.

No chittering that shook his skull and disjointed jaw. Just plain screaming. He never thought he would be so happy to hear it. He huffed, trying to catch his breath. Checked his hands; no traces of black mold. Just tanned skin striped with scars and damp from a cold sweat.

He breathed a sigh of relief and let himself relax back into the twisted sheets he had apparently been thrashing around in. There was a loud thump from downstairs, like someone had fallen down, which was swiftly followed by smaller thumps. A sound he had grown to recognize as Gabe rushing up the steps. He sat up and mentally prepared to put his brother back to bed.

Gabe slammed the door to Robbies room open before he could even stand up. His eyes were red, just in the normal way. Not the nightmare red and yellow. Tears were streaking his face. He sobbed and ran at Robbie, tackling him in a hug.

“You aren't allowed to do that!” He cried into Robbies chest.

Robbie held him close and stroked his hair, “Sorry, Gabe. I didn’t mean to wake you. I can try and get some good headphones for you so it won't happen again.”

Gabe sniffled against his shirt. He adjusted himself so he could glare up at Robbie. It would be adorable if he weren't so clearly upset. 

“What? No, I don't care about that. I mean you can't do that!”

“I don't - I’m really sorry Gabe I don't know what you’re talking about.” Gabes glare got narrower. He raised his pointer finger to the side of his head and mimed ‘pow’.

Robbies spine went ridgid. What the fuck.

“I don't care how sick you get. I don't care if you heal fast. Don't. Do. That.” He felt his heart break a little. Gabe had buried his face back into Robbies shirt. That was nice. It made sure Robbie didn't have to try and hide whatever the hell his expression was.

Something repeated in the back of his head: It gave you my nightmares. That was what Gabe had said. It felt like an eternity ago but it had probably been just a little over a month. 

“I didn’t--” Jesus, motherfuck, what the hell was he supposed to do? Maybe if he just started talking, he could find the right thing to say. Was there even a right thing to say at all? No parenting manual he’d ever read had a guide for what to do if you started sharing dreams with the person you looked after. Especially horrific nightmares like the one he just had.

Breathe. Focus. Gabe is upset. You know what to do when Gabe is upset. 

Robbie pulled him closer, “It's okay. Everything is going to be okay.” He really couldn't guarantee that, but it had to be said for his own sake as much as it was Gabes. “I’m so sorry you had to see that. I didn’t want you to see that.” I didn’t want to see it either. “I don't think that's going to happen. I think it was like your dream. You remember what I said then, right? It’s just our brains coming up with what scares us most.”

“That's what scares you?”

“Yeah. If I–--” he swallowed, “if I'm not… myself, then I can't take care of you.”

“I get it. I didn’t like losing myself either.” God, he was so stupid. Stupid and selfish, of course Gabe knew what that was like. He had been stripped of his own self control, changed on a fundamental level and had powers Robbie was too scared to ask questions about. Here he was, running away from things, and his brother was stuck paying the price for it.

Robbie tried to talk past the lump in his throat. “I'm so sorry, Gabe.” He could feel tears leaking down his cheeks. He prayed to God they were normal. “I don’t - I don't know how any of this works and it freaks me out a little. You don't scare me, I meant that when I said it, but it’s hard for me to understand things I can’t see. I don’t see stuff in my head the way you do.” He took a moment to breathe and leaned back so he could get Gabe to look up at him. “Do you think you can explain how it works to me? I think you might know better than I do.”

Gabe scrubbed his eyes and sat up. “I have an idea, but I don't know for sure. I’m really not like Eveline, Robbie. She talked like she knew how everything worked and I just don’t. I could be really wrong.”

“That's okay. I don't expect you to know everything, just do your best.”

Gabe kept his eyes down, “So, the plants and my fr- flowers. My flowers. They connect and talk to each other. You can do that with people too, Robbie. Evie used it to tell everyone what to do, but I think you can just make it smaller. Like connecting just two people.” Gabe looked up at him, “I think sometimes, in our sleep, you and me talk like my flowers. Talking without talking. Showing each other things.”

Okay. That was a lot. It made sense, it did. But accepting that would mean that his brain had been more affected than he thought, that his body was probably more affected than he thought. If they could do this, what else was possible? Knock it off. Solve the problem in front of you.

“Alright. Do you know how to stop it?”

Gabe shook his head. “No. I thought my flowers made you sick and that was why we dreamed together, but it's not that. It takes a lot to break that connection.” Robbie remembered Gabe stomping on one of his flowers until it was nothing but a smudge on the forest floor. Probably not a good method to repeat. 

He fiddled with the hem of his shirt, “Maybe we could just try to have good dreams instead?”

Robbie let out a short laugh, “That would be nice. I’d like to have good dreams with you. What would we dream about?”

“Hmmmmm… maybe ice skating? I can actually try it now! Ninja Wolf went ice skating before and he looked so awesome. He hopped on his swords and skated around on them, Robbie!”

Robbie would almost assuredly fall on his ass right away, but he would gladly take a dream about repeatedly slipping on ice over what their nightmares had been in the past. “That sounds nice. Do you want me to put you to bed downstairs and see if you can dream that?”

“No!” Gabe hugged Robbie tight again.

“Okay, that's okay, hey,” he started petting Gabes head again, “do you want to just stay with me tonight?” Gabe nodded and sniffled. “Alright, here let's just get a little more comfortable.”

He leaned back until he was resting just a little upright on his pillow so Gabe could lie down. His arms stayed wrapped tight around Robbies torso, like he was scared he’d disappear. Robbie shimmied the blankets up and over to cover them both.

“You know I’m not going anywhere, right?”

Gabe hugged him tighter and looked up at him very seriously, “I don't care if our dreams are close. I want to be actually close.”

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. “I want that too.”

They slept dreamlessly. 

[mccaufe08]

Y'all wanna make Kwon the bad guy so bad, he's just a silly smart@ss 😭) and my other fav ofc Miguel Diaz…

Okay! I finally did a full piece >_<

Tbh the first and maybe only Jaez shipper to make a fanart or talk about this ship at all... (it's probably considered a crack ship until they get more interactions I CALL THAT KWON CALLS HIM OR ROBBY PRETTY BOY WHEN THEY VS EACHOTHER IN THE SECOND PT. OF THE SEASON ☝🏽🤓…

🐍♥️🖤 …

[samwpmarleau]

fic: 2091

whumptober day 16: time loop masterlist: tumblr, ao3 Robbie delays his departure and is swept into the future with everyone else.

“You really have to leave right away?”

“Yeah. Gotta get this book someplace safe. Keep an eye on my brother?”

Daisy nods. She would’ve anyway. After all, she’s the reason Gabe was dragged into the S.H.I.E.L.D. flying circus to begin with. As she prepares to bid him goodbye — again, after having barely any time with him at all — Coulson interjects, “Come on, you have to at least stay for some grub. Crazy robot’s dead, the Darkhold’s not going anywhere. There’s cause to celebrate, Mr. Reyes.”

“Nah, I can’t. Thanks for the offer, though.”

“Look,” May puts in, immediately jumping on Coulson’s train, “you’ve still got ground to make up with me for what you did to Mace, but you did save all our asses from Aida. Let us buy you a burger or something.”

Robbie hesitates, then looks at Daisy as though expecting her to tell him to ignore them and leave. She shrugs. “What they said.”

So he does, after some more hemming and hawing and silent discussion — or argument, it’s hard to tell — with Ghost Rider that Robbie apparently wins. She’s not sure she could ever call him light, not while he shares his body with a demon, but it’s nice to see him sit among the rest of them like he’s part of the team. Once the first joke is cracked, so is the ice.

He fits, Daisy observes. He could continue to fit. Become a freelance agent if nothing else, an off-the-books consultant if S.H.I.E.L.D. remains too public to properly employ him, what with all the extrajudicial murders and all. Daisy wouldn’t have to look out for Gabe, nor face the kid’s disappointment and grief, because his brother would still be around. Surely the Rider has debts he can settle in this dimension?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Robbie asks, snapping her out of her musing.

“I’m not looking at you like anything,” Daisy says as she takes a prim bite of a fry. “You could belong here, that’s all.”

Robbie’s good mood falls. “Only place I belong is hell.”

“Jesus, you’re dramatic.”

“It’s the truth. The Rider agreeing to one burger doesn’t mean he’ll agree to staying forever.”

“He will if I have anything to say about it.” Daisy reaches over to place a hand on his arm. “I’m not gonna just let you go to hell.”

“You were an hour ago.”

“Yeah, well, an hour ago I didn’t think I had a choice.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“We’ll see.”

Robbie looks very much like he wants to refute that, but before he can, the lights shut off and what she assumes are government agents burst in. The poor waitress doesn’t even get to finish her spiel about pies.

“Phillip J. Coulson,” an agent greets in monotone.

Daisy smirks at the sarcasm in Coulson’s voice as he replies, “Yep, that’s me. You got us. Nice job. And hey, congrats on the whole power outage thing, that was very ominous.”

She doesn’t get to hear the agent’s reply, however, for the next moment lands her in a very disorienting room that’s empty save for a red-striped white — oh, for fuck’s sake — monolith in the center.

“Uh, what is that?” Robbie asks. Jemma lets out a despairing ha! that Daisy can hardly disagree with. If only he knew what a pain in the ass this is. It must be a different kind of monolith, to be fair, since it’s not the same bluish-black as the one that swallowed up Jemma, but Daisy’s not inclined to give it the benefit of the doubt. Whatever this one does, it’s no less dangerous.

Indeed, they don’t remotely have time to come up with a game plan before the monolith melts into a wave of white and swallows not only Jemma but the whole group of them. In what seems like an instant, Daisy next finds herself in an equally, though different, disorienting room. A jail cell would be nicer in appearance than this one. The walls are made of grimy cement, what passes for furniture and machinery seems to be made of little more than scrap metal, and the sole light in the place is the kind one would see in a broom closet. It casts a sallow gloom over the place. God only knows where she’s been dropped.

More accurately, where they have been dropped. Robbie stands beside her assessing the room as well with a deep frown on his face. She wonders what the Rider thinks about this, whether he’s alert and ready to take the wheel or whether he’s content for the moment to let his host deal with whatever’s going on. Daisy can’t decide which she’d prefer. While she’d much rather have Robbie’s company, she can’t say she’d necessarily object to the Rider raising all kinds of hell to fix this shit. Maybe he’s even come across that monolith before, or at least has some idea of what it can do.

“Hellspawn care to weigh in on this?” Daisy asks. The stale air is suffocating.

“No,” says Robbie, tearing his eyes away from their surroundings to look at her. “We’re on our own.”

“Great. The one time we could actually use him, he’s taking a smoke break.”

“Fine by me.”

Robbie says it under his breath, as though voicing the thought at all is risking being smote where he stands. Perhaps it is. Not that she can blame him. She’d noticed how much more comfortable he’d become with both his powers and the Rider itself — something she doubts can happen in only a couple weeks. No, she’d stake the farm on time being different where he was, months if not years of traversing hell planets. All of which, from what he’d told her, was spent trapped in his own body unable to do anything but fight.

Weird teleporting monolith or no weird teleporting monolith, she can understand his relief at still being himself.

“Well,” Daisy says, “we won’t be able to figure anything out without doing some exploring. Are you up for that?”

Robbie adjusts the chain around his torso. “Yeah, let’s go.”

It’s helpful, she discovers, to have a being such as Robbie on their side. Not simply because meeting him had significantly upped their tolerance for strange — like being flung into the future — but because it gives them literal firepower they hadn’t had before. While Robbie keeps the spontaneous combustion to a minimum for the sake of maintaining a low profile, most of the time he doesn’t need to flame on at all. People can sense the power, the danger, in him even if they can’t pinpoint why, which means less resistance and more acquiescence. Hell, knowing she’s got an invincible friend sleeping one cell over even allows her to get a decent night’s sleep or two.

Nevertheless, the Rider yearns for violence, to unleash himself on the unworthy.

Kasius, needless to say, doesn’t stand a chance.

[avengerphobic]

Pairing: Amareyes Rating: gen

Amadeus doesn't say what he means and that drives Robbie up the wall

[legends-of-apex]

Gashes To Gashes | Robbie Reyes x Reader

Rating: T (for non-sexual intimacy, undressing, mentions of injury, tooth rotting fluff, mild spoilers for AoS S4)

Word count: 1.7k

Summary: Robbie comes home one night and finds you already asleep on the couch. He decides he can’t sleep without you and takes matters into his own hands. Reader is gender neutral, no use of y/n

A/N: I miss him so much okay 🤧 I know there’s not a big audience for him or anything but someone’s gotta feed the few that are here! Enjoy <3

When he found you sleeping on the couch, the clothes you were wearing that morning still draped over your form and crumpled, he knew you’d had a bad day. Usually you’d be changed into pyjamas or one of his shirts by now. Although it was well past midnight, you were usually still very much awake when he came through the front door. But here you were, fast asleep on the couch in your daytime clothes. It was an adorable sight.

Two empty plates cluttered the coffee table in front of you. He knew there would be a cellophane-covered plate for him sitting on the kitchen table too if he cared to look. But he couldn’t have cared less about food right now.

Robbie hadn’t been home yet that day. Instead he heeded the Rider’s demands and went out on the hunt from the moment he finished work. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the hook by the door next to yours and Gabe’s. As the jacket slipped from his tired shoulders, the stress of the day did too.

Now, finally, he was home.

In the darkness, he relied on the deeply embedded memory of the house's layout to stop himself from bumping into anything. So many night sneaking out from beneath his uncle’s nose as a teen had prepared him for this. He knew each floorboard that creaked, each piece of furniture he might stub his toe on. All of this too avoid rousing you or his little brother from slumber.

He risked waking Gabe just to make sure he was alright. He twisted the bedroom door handle and let it open just a crack, there he saw his baby brother content and sleeping soundly. Golden street light streamed through the blinds and illuminated his soft face and the floppy hair that rustled in the breeze of his sleeping breath. His wheelchair sat at the bedside, piled high with school books he must’ve cleared from his bed in a rush of sudden drowsiness. Content, he closed the door behind him with a soft click and then turned his attention back to you.

He was glad you hadn’t waited up. He didn’t want you losing sleep over him. But the position and clothes you were in had to be uncomfortable. You’d definitely wake up cold and with a sore neck if he just left you there draped over the couch cushions. That’s what he told himself to justify gathering you into his arms and carrying you through to bed. In reality, he just couldn’t sleep without you - without knowing you were there beside him and safe.

Your very presence was a comfort and an anchor to him and he knew he’d miss you too much to sleep, even if you were just in the next room. He would never forget just how cold the sheets felt after the first night you’d spent there in his bed all wrapped up in his arms. It wasn’t just the company of another that he adored but also the way you snuggled into him like a stray cat to a rug beneath a roaring fire. Your soft touches were fresh air to him. The next night he spent alone, his bed suddenly felt too big, too empty and so painfully cold. Since then, he’s never been able to sleep well without you and despised the thought of even having to try.

“Robbie?” You croaked, feeling that distinct, unmistakable warmth radiating from him and seeping into your skin. “You okay?”

You stirred just as he pushed the bedroom door open - awakened by the hinge’s unoiled creak. After bringing a curled fist to rub your eyes, it was impossible to distinguish his features in the darkness but you knew him by his demeanour and touch alone. No one else you’d ever met smelled so distinctly like ash and motor oil or moved like he carried the weight of a thousand struggles on his back. No one else felt like home the way that Robbie did to you.

“Yeah, baby, I’m alright… better now I’m with you. Are you alright?” He answered softly with a press of his lips to your forehead followed by the gentle scrape of the hair on his upper lip. When you made a sound of disgruntlement at his question, he faltered, “Long day?”

“Longest I’ve had in a while. Can’t believe I fell asleep before you got home.” Usually your worry kept you up more than anything else. No matter how many times he came home in one piece you always worried.

“Lemme kiss it better then we’ll get you back to sleep, huh?” He set you down on the mattress and you yawned as soon as your back knew the plush mattress below.

You hummed. “I should probably get out of these clothes first.”

“I can help with that.”

He started with your shirt. Each undone plastic button exposed a fresh inch of your skin to the cool night air as he went. He let his eyes close as his warm lips pressed against your bare shoulder, the base of your neck, then the centre of your chest. His lips were void of all except appreciation and care. You laughed quietly as he undressed you so gently. Usually Robbie shimmying off your trousers meant an entirely different ordeal to this. But tonight he was just trying to get you comfortable enough to be able to rest with him.

He barely bothered kicking off his own trousers before getting into bed, much more concerned with wrapping his hoodie around your shoulders when he felt your slight shiver. He lay down beside you and in the dark you reached for him immediately, to feel his warm skin on yours. His arm wound around your waist then curled up your back to press you close to him. You found his cheek and he leaned into that precious, treasured touch. Being home with your hands on him after a night letting the Rider take over was the best medicine he could ever ask for. He thought it was more than he deserved.

“Mmhmm. I missed you.” You threw your arms around his shoulders and hugged his head close to your chest.

“I missed you too.” He replied, enjoying your embrace for a moment. You tried to enjoy it too but as you swiped your thumb over his cheek you felt the unmistakable raised and bumpy ridge of a gash entrenched into his skin.

“What’s this?” You questioned.

“It’s nothing, baby. Let’s just get you back to sleep.” His hand covered yours, turning your palm to press a single chaste kiss to it.

He needed so desperately to calm your worries but he should’ve known that wouldn’t work. Tiredness radiated off him in droves; It thickened his voice and weighed down his limbs. He just wanted to let the mattress swallow him whole, to rest here with you forever, but you had to know he was alright.

“Robbie…” your voice held a tinge of warning.

He sighed, knowing you wouldn’t let it slide and he couldn’t blame you for that. If you came home with so much as a scratch on you he’d want names and addresses - and that was even before he was possessed by a spirit of vengeance. His stomach knotted at the memory of Quake only a few hours ago. How she’d all but begged him to kill her but the Rider didn’t seem to think she deserved to pay her penance just yet. “Some powered chick was snooping around Canello’s looking for the charger. We had a uh…disagreement, and she punched me in the face.”

You broke out of his grasp and flicked the bedside lamp on to get a better look. Harsh light flooded the room and you both winced at the sudden brightness but the irritation at the bright light was soon replaced with worry. “She did that? With one punch?” You asked, examining his battered cheek.

It was just a small gash with some bruising surrounding it. Nothing to worry about, really. But the fact that it had yet to heal was strange and more than a little concerning. Robbie bleeds just like anybody else but the blood he came home covered in wasn’t ever usually his own thanks to how quickly the demon heals him. That woman must’ve packed one hell of a punch. It was nothing like you’d ever seen him recovering from before. You had yet to see a scratch on him that wouldn’t fade within an hour until now.

“Yeah, she was strong. But vida, you should go back to sleep. It’s late. You don’t ever gotta worry about me.” He's whispering so as not to startle you any more, thumb running over your chin as he looks up at you with his deep, endless brown eyes that almost pleaded with you to believe him.

"I always worry about you,” you replied honestly. Because of course you did, how couldn’t you? He might have been invulnerable by any reasonable standard but you dreaded the day he encountered something that the Rider couldn’t heal. “Are you sure you don’t need anything?"

Robbie swallowed thickly and shook his head before telling you something that almost made your eyes water.

"Nah. Just you."

All he wanted was you here in his arms and in his bed. With the softness and desperation in his eyes, you believed him. You flicked off the bedside lamp and settled back down in his arms. He thumbed your hip and tugged you closer with a touch so soft for such well-worked hands. You all but melted into him, into his chest, into the faint smell of burn and blood, and the comfort that he brought.

You let your hand rest on his chest as you often did. It was a sweet habit of yours, one which Robbie loved. But tonight things were a little different. You slid your hand down the soft burgundy cotton of his shirt before letting your fingers dive beneath the hem and graze just above his belly button. Your palm splayed out, rising with each slow breath he took. He wasn’t sure what comfort you derived from touching him like that but the touch grounded him, brought him back to Earth again from wherever he was floating that night, untethered. He needed your skin on his as tree roots needed soil and sunlight. That touch made him feel human again, like maybe the weight he carried wasn’t so heavy after all.

Robbie Reyes tag list:

@icy-spicy

I’ve lost the rest of the tag list for him yall I’m so sorry 😭 Please let me know if you’d like to be added!!

[nerdieforpedro]

12/10/2023 - Weekend Update

Nerdie! Look at you staying on a schedule.

I know! Being half-way organized. It's kinda nice.

We'd never thought we'd see the day. So what's new?

I made some fic posts this week:

Sard'ika Sessions - Session Two (Din Djarin x plus size female reader)

Christmas List (Robbie Reyes x reader)

The Brave, The Bold, The Dirty - Fanfics that I adore (Volume 3)

A New Tradition with Frankie (Frankie Morales x GN reader)

We also spread positivity though everyone's ask boxes and exchanged lovely messages with each other and loved on each other.

Read anything this week?

I did. A large portion of it is in my Fanfic appreciation post volume 3 which the link is above. I also started a volume 4 because I love highlighting different author's works that I've enjoyed. 😀

I'm just going to pick my top three for the week:

Don't Drink the Punch by @wildemaven (Soft Dave and female reader. I'm a fan of soft Dave. He can be soft and sweet. He and the reader are married and they're at a work event. It's lovely.)

Exposed by @maggiemayhemnj (Ezra and female reader. Turns out this is her first fic. I was flabbergasted. The Imagery, word flow and cadence are all from someone who's pen name is one word, like Cher or Homer or Ms. PayDay.)

Insatiable by @pedge-page (Frankie Morales and female reader. Part three of their three part emotional sexual odyssey with Frankie and the female reader. There's big feelings and lots of smut abound. But there is a sweet end to it.)

What happened outside of fanfics this week?

I was sick most of the week. I ended up in the ED at work and was out for the week. Thankfully I'm on the mend and should be ready this upcoming week for work and beyond! I caught up on different FBI shows, watched Loki with my mom (she wonders if he's going to be at a convention - I'm hoping not so she won't bum rush the man,) and bought a book on flowers. I've also been starting back up on learning Spanish again.

What's coming up this week?

I'm working on another Robbie Reyes fic - likely to be a one shot but dark because the Rider is dark. Gabriel Luna had a birthday this past week, @musings-of-a-rose sent me all the pictures so this is where we are in life right now. All Luna’ed down and what not.

I'm gonna try for some more fluff, maybe with Dieter, Frankie or Benny. Not sure who. We'll see.

I could, possibly, be working on one of my other series that I started and dropped like a hot potato. Maybe they'll have new chapters. People were reading them, which was the weirdest thing.

Session Three of Sard'ika Sessions will be up on Wednesday. The Way is paved with Space Smut according to the Maker. 🫡 We'll be at the mid-point so we're in for a shift, but no worries. Session four, five and six took up a lot of pages in my notebook and it was all outlined with a lot of things. Maybe some more improper beskar use? Might need to touch base with The Armorer on that. 👀 Didn't know that was included in the ancient ways either.

Nerdie, don't be messing with The Creed like that.

To be fair, I did mention in Session one that there would be liberties taken with both The Creed and The Way so the latter sessions are where more of those liberties are taken. Maybe a lot, maybe a little. You'll have to read and see. Different Mandalorians see The Creed differently, why can’t I?

I am curious about what liberties my Space Sister @linzels-blog would make with The Creed. 🤔

Wait, why is it weird that people were reading your other series?

Since I haven't updated them for months, I didn't expect them to get any comments, then they did. It was very sweet and got me thinking, maybe I should finish that at some point, or at least add to it. I'm trying to focus on one at a time. Can't be crossing streams.

We get it, but that joke though? Could have done without that. Any last thoughts?

I need to work more on the pickled Peña project. Haven't finished that yet. Stay safe and hydrated. There are nasty bugs that are wreaking havoc on people's noses and sinuses. We’re very happy that @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin and @for-a-longlongtime have lived to tell their stories.

Also check your knives and watch your tips. I guess you can palm the tips or take them and do whatever as long as you're safe about it.

Nerdie, what are you talking about...? Do we want to know?

If you know, you know and if you don't, find some hot tips. 😘

Stay safe and don't get any in your eye,

Love Nerdie 💜

(escapes to a certain moodboard 🍆)

Nerdie! You can't just say that and leave! 😠

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

Currently busy with writing the next chapter of “Ghost Rider - From the Files of the ‘Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.’”. In the meantime, here’s a preview:

Inside the memory void

Phil Coulson: "Thank you for coming in."

Jemma Simmons: "Of course, sir. I am Agent Jemma Simmons. And this is-"

Leo Fitz: "-this is, I am Leopold Fitz."

Phil Coulson: "Fitzsimmons, yes. You know, when I first heard about you, I thought you were one person."

Robbie, Gabe, and Nico opened their eyes and, immediately, found themselves in a new location. The feeling was surreal, like stepping into a vividly detailed dream. After a quick examination of the room, they realize that they were in a conference room. The late Agent Phil Coulson was standing by them and was speaking with Jemma Simmons and Leo Fitz. By how the two looked, Robbie realized this memory must've taken place at least over a decade ago.

Nico, with her hands on her chin, looked perplexed. "That's interesting," she said, "It appears we ended up in Fitz's memory of him meeting Phil Coulson for the first time."

"Why's that interesting?" Robbie asked.

"Because I was aiming for the Maveth mission. Maybe it was the strain of the spell. When I was on my own, targeting a specific memory was a lot easier. As soon as you two got involved, it got harder to concentrate."

"Is that a problem?"

"No, it means I just need more practice. Anyways, I need to fast-forward us to Maveth. Gabe, are you good-"

Turning to Gabe, Robbie and Nico saw that he wasn't paying attention to them. Instead, he was looking at his legs. It took a second for both Robbie and Nico to realize that Gabe was standing on his own.

The younger Reyes' eyes widened as he continued to marvel at his newfound ability to walk. Every step he took must've felt like a miracle, as if he had been granted a reprieve from his wheelchair-bound reality. His fingers trembled as he touched his thighs, which hadn't carried his weight for years.

"Robbie," he whispered, his voice quivering with emotion, "I can't believe it. I haven't walked in so long. This is...incredible."

Robbie, who had witnessed Gabe's struggles and the countless hours he had spent by his brother's side, couldn't help but smile. He knelt down to meet Gabe's eyes, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "It's been a while since I've seen you move like that," he acknowledged, "Enjoy it while you can."

"Look, while I've gotten used to the wheelchair, and I want both of you to know that a disability doesn't make you any less of a person...it is nice to be able to use my legs again."

Just to test his legs out even more, Gabe began running circles around Fitz and Simmons. Since this was just a memory, neither Fitz or Simmons acknowledged Gabe's presence. Although they were on a mission, Robbie and Nico couldn't help but laugh at the sight.

But as Gabe stopped to catch his breath, Nico, although she didn't want to be a downer, she also didn't want Gabe to forget where they were. "Hey, remember, we're in Fitz's memory. This isn't reality."

"I know, I know," Gabe said, dismissively, "It's 'Inception' rules, we're just projections of our subconscious minds."

"I mean...I guess? Anyways, let's go Burning Boys, we need to skip a few years to the Maveth-"

Nico stopped when the lights in the conference room suddenly went out. Coulson, Jemma, and Fitz suddenly went stiff, as if they had become mannequins or life-like wax sculptures. Robbie, Gabe, and Nico began to back away from the frozen agents, confused. Nico armed herself with the Staff of One while Robbie unlatched the steel chains that were wrapped around his chest.

"What the hell is this?" Robbie turned to Nico, who looked just as confused as he did. "Magical Girl, is this a normal part of the spell?" he asked.

Nico shook her head. "I have no idea what's going on."

"Are we being invaded?" Gabe asked, going into a fighting stance to prepare himself.

"I don't know," Nico said, "I'm pretty sure we're not. I would've felt something. Other magic-users can't just...for the lack of a better term, hack into another user's spell."

"I don't feel anything either," Robbie said.

"Zarathos, are you following me right now?" Robbie thought.

"Yes I am, Reyes," Zarathos answered in the back of Robbie's mind.

"What the hell happened to the memory? Is this a demon or something that's doing this?"

"This is going to sound strange, Robbie...but I'm not quite sure. I can confirm that the ugly, middle-aged man who was your former boss is still watching over all of you. Nothing is happening out here."

"That's all you can give me?"

"Well...I can't explain it...but I somewhat recognize the energy that's causing the memory spell to falter."

"Energy? What energy? And how do you recognize it?"

"There is something that's affecting the spell. And I recognize it...because it's the energy of a Spirit of Vengeance."

"Wait...what-"

Suddenly, the once serene environment trembled, and the walls flickered like an old film reel. A bizarre storm, filled with swirling colors and strange, otherworldly shapes, materialized in the corner of the conference room. Robbie, Gabe, and Nico grabbed onto the conference room table, clinging on for dear life as the colorful storm began to pull the trio into it.

"Robbie, what's happening?!" Gabe shouted, "Where the hell did that storm come from?!"

Robbie squinted at the tumultuous anomaly, his usually confident demeanor giving way to a sense of unease. "I don’t know, something’s gone wrong! Just hold onto the table!" He turned to Nico, who was whispering something that Robbie couldn't hear. If he had to guess, Nico was trying to end the memory spell. "Nico, can you control this?! Can you end the spell?!"

"What the hell do you think I'm trying to do, Burning Boy!?" Nico, her brow furrowed with concentration, tried to regain control over the memory spell. After positioning herself so that her chest was directly facing the table, thus allowing her to use her body to anchor her down, she began to move her hands in an attempt to stabilize the memory. Although she was frightened, she dug deep into her Kamar-Taj lessons to try to eliminate the storm. Despite her movements, the storm raged on. "Okay, I don't know what's happening. I'm trying to stabilize or end the spell, but nothing is working."

"So we're trapped here!" Robbie shouted.

"I'll figure something out! And boys, don't you even think about killing yourselves! That will not wake you up from this!"

As they grappled with the storm's sudden appearance, the Leo Fitz who was a part of the memory suddenly woke up. He immediatly grabbed the table after feeling the storm's pull on him. Surprisingly, Jemma and Coulson were still unaffected by the storm.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" he demanded, his voice echoing in the ever-changing, distorted landscape.

"Leo, huh?!" Nico shouted, "How are you with us?! You're the host-"

"-I don't know and I don't care right now! Just get us out of here!"

Nico, growing more desperate to regain control, attempted to end the spell once again. She closed her eyes and chanted softly, her hands glowing with purple energy. "Okay...okay, okay, okay! Just hold on, everyone! Let me just....clear my thoughts-"

However, before Nico could start her incantations, an unseen force suddenly tore the group apart. Robbie, Gabe, Fitz, and Nico were forcibly separated, their vision blurring as they were hurled in different directions within the chaotic memory void.

[littlekidsteve]

Ooooo this comic is so good 😍😍😍😍

One of our most recent projects in intro to SEQA class was to make a 5 page environmental comic with action and using existing superheroes! I used Robbie Reyes and Johnny Blaze from the All-New Ghost Rider series (please read it, it’s so good) This was super fun to make despite the lack of sleep while working on it. There are some mistakes here and there (I’m sorry if they’re OOC) but overall I’m proud of how this turned out! 

[existingtm]

Why do I always end up finishing things most of the way and then have my hyperfixation immediately fizzle out before I can cross the finish line???

I have one chapter left on a fic I was reading, a few chapters left on a manga I was reading, and I'm over halfway done with a fic I was writing!!! 😭

[just-a-latina-fangirl]

Jules woke up just like after those typical dreams when you feel you're falling into an endless hole: with an exhalation and her heart pumping. She opened her eyes immediately and looked around, without recognizing anything from the room she was in…

Chapters 18 and 19 out!

[itsmoonchik]

Robbie Reyes as textposts

[wazzappp]

@rokhal I’m really really fucking normal about the new chapter dude. Not frothing at the mouth or anything. Not even chewing on the bars of my enclosure if you would believe it…

[wazzappp]

SRDBBJKHKMVDFGUVHKBJKF

IM NOT CRYING YOURE CRYING

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Ghost Rider (Comics), Marvel (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Amadeus Cho & Gabe Reyes, Gabe Reyes & Robbie Reyes, Amadeus Cho/Robbie Reyes Characters: Amadeus Cho, Gabe Reyes (Marvel), Robbie Reyes Additional Tags: vague descriptions of bullying, Minor Injuries, Amadeus’s ongoing existential crisis, Established Relationship Series: Part 4 of amareyes Summary:

“It sounds to me like you did everything exactly right,” Amadeus says. “Why don’t you want Robbie to know?”

Gabe is a good kid. Amadeus discovers just how concerning that can be.

[samwpmarleau]

fic: phantom limb

whumptober day 18: loss of identity masterlist: tumblr, ao3 To now be alone again, he should feel relieved and happy. Instead, he feels lost. He keeps expecting the Rider’s voice to pop into his head, or for his face to melt into a flaming skull, yet there’s nothing. Endless nothing. part 1

It’s an uncomfortable irony that at the moment, Robbie feels much like he did when first he took in Ghost Rider. Like neither his body nor his mind are his own, like his strings have been cut. Six years — plus too many more to count in the vaguery of other dimensions — he’d shared himself with another. To now be alone again, he should feel relieved and happy.

Instead, he feels lost. He keeps expecting the Rider’s voice to pop into his head, or for his face to melt off into a flaming skull, yet there’s nothing. Endless nothing. Despite all the creaks and groans of the Zephyr, the occasional clatter and chatter of its residents, everything is so quiet. He can hear himself think.

It’s disturbing.

It certainly doesn’t help that no one seems to know what to do with him. While he no longer gets peered at with apprehension, there’s still a lingering blanket over everything of, Why is this guy here?

Everyone on board has a role. Everyone except him. He eats their food, breathes their air, traverses their halls, yet has nothing to contribute. His one asset, the thing that had made him remarkable, is gone.

Well, kid, it doesn’t have to be.

The intrusive thought that sounds like the Rider but isn’t has been persistent. Robbie can feel his powers coursing through his veins like before, ready to burst from his fingertips. A pressure cooker with no off switch. He yearns to use them. Torture or tortillas, he doesn’t really care which.

But he can’t. He won’t. Because if he does, the voice in his head that sounds like the Rider will be the Rider. The spirit, wherever it resides currently, will know where he is, what he’s doing, who he’s with. What he’s using the powers for. Ever watchful, ever cruel.

While it’s been two weeks since the Rider visited him in his dreams, he keeps expecting another one. A reminder, perhaps, of his limitations, or the Rider changed his mind and any moment will walk through a portal, cackling. It’s its own kind of prison.

Though, even prisons have their bright spots. Light cutting through the darkness. So too does his, as hard as it is sometimes to remember.

“Hey,” says Daisy, stopping by his bunk, “we’re coming up on our next planet pretty soon. You can come with, if you want.”

Still caught in his melancholy, he answers too-snappishly, “And do what?”

Dissatisfaction shows on Daisy’s face at his tone, but she doesn’t take him to task for it. Yet. Robbie doubts he’s got much leeway left. “We can find you something to do.”

They can find him something, he reflects sourly. They have to think, because he’s functionally useless. Hell, he’d probably need a suit just like everyone else. A few weeks ago, he’d have been able to walk on any planet unaided, breathable air or no. Now? Now, he’s frustratingly human.

“No,” he says flatly, “you go ahead. I’ve got more reading to do anyway. Lots has happened since I left.”

Daisy looks very much like she’d like to say something terse, but refrains. “Okay, well … see you in about eight hours then. Happy reading.”

Happy is not the word he’d use to describe the last five years, according to the internet.

“Be safe,” he tells her.

“This ain’t my first rodeo,” Daisy laughs. “I’ll be fine.”

“Still.”

Daisy nods in placation, then leaves. The darkness returns; his few moments of rec time are over.

———

It’s nine hours, seven minutes until she, Kora, and the others get back. He’s counted. A very long nine hours, seven minutes. He does manage to actually read, not that it’s very uplifting. Chaos and pain and economic collapse and widespread destitution and war is what he’s missed. Some good things here and there, but mostly shit across the board. Half the population resurrecting all at once has, somehow, made things even worse, or so says Yo-Yo, S.H.I.E.L.D.’s boots on the ground.

That, at least, had been a nice distraction. It’s felt like forever since he’s had the chance to speak Spanish. To do so with Yo-Yo had felt familiar in a way he didn’t expect. The agent’s brief shit-talking of some new recruits had even drawn out a laugh from him.

“Let Daisy know we’ve got some specifics,” Yo-Yo had signed off. “Sorry, but it’s —”

“Classified.”

“Sí. Hablamos después, Burning Man.”

“Adiós.”

That’d been an hour ago, though, so in the meantime he’s had to return to waiting. Daisy’s timetable estimation had come and gone, making the waiting even worse. Had something happened?

He contemplates going to the cockpit to crack open a flight manual to keep himself occupied — for all his skills, piloting a spy agency aircraft is not among them, may as well learn something new — when there’s the sound of a buzzer heralding the cargo bay opening. Robbie resists the urge to scamper across the plane like an overeager puppy. He may be absent a demon, but his dignity is still intact. He leisurely walks in the direction of the cargo bay, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. He reaches his destination as the intrepid agents are removing their suits with the casualness of having done this a thousand times before.

“Everything go okay?” Robbie asks. He tries very hard not to notice how the strap of her undershirt has slipped down her shoulder.

“As good as it usually does. Not much life on this one either.”

Kora lets out a snort. “ ‘Not much life,’ she says. We nearly got eaten.”

“You what?”

“We did not nearly get eaten,” Daisy chides. She steps out of her suit and boots in favor of some more reasonable footwear. “There were these gremlin-looking things. I’m not sure what they were, we got some footage for testing. They’ve got some sharp teeth.”

Robbie gives her a once-over, searching for signs of mauling. “You got bit?”

“No, there were just a lot of them that came out of nowhere all at once. We had Fitz-Simmons’s alien repellent goo that scared them off, it was fine.”

“Alien repellent goo?” God, he’s going to be playing catchup forever at this rate.

“Yeah, it’s pretty sick. I’ll show you later, I gotta shower and eat first.” As Daisy begins to toss her gear into a canister for decontamination, she throws him a glance over her shoulder. “So, what’d you get up to?”

“Internet searches, mostly. Yo-Yo called, she said she has some mission-related things to tell you. She didn’t say any more than that.”

“Well, yeah,” Daisy says with a grin, “you’re just a civilian. You don’t get to know the fun stuff.”

A civilian. The word is an uncomfortable fit. He can barely remember what it was to be just a civilian. No more enhanced than an average guy walking down the street. Or, maybe more accurately, an average guy with a drug problem. An itch that he desperately wants to scratch but can’t because of the consequences. At the thought, his powers heat to a simmer, begging to be allowed to boil over.

You can use them a little, says the Rider-voice in his head. What’s the harm in that?

Robbie digs his nails into his palms.

Coward.

He startles when he feels Daisy squeeze his shoulder. “Hey, you okay? You kind of spaced out for a sec.”

Great. Just great.

He lies, “I’m good. Sorry.”

“If you’re sick or something, Kora can help with that.”

“Quit pimping out my powers,” Kora gripes. She takes one of the parachute packs off the wall to thwack her sister with it.

Daisy rolls her eyes. “Fine. Robbie, you can ask Kora for help if you need it.”

“I’m not sick.”

“Daisy’s not totally wrong,” Kora says. “You get one freebie, then after that you’ve got to have something to trade.”

Robbie glances down at Kora’s hands, recalling what Daisy had told him. How Kora had been able to bring her back from the brink of death, good as new. How she’d been able to heal dozens more over the years, ranging from a colicky Francisco Mackenzie to Sousa’s broken arm to Agent Piper hemorrhaging after taking a shot to the gut. Those were all physical injuries, though. What’s wrong with him, he doubts it’s within her scope. And even if it is, how’s he supposed to ask without sounding pathetic? All the problems in the multiverse and his is simply being unable to use his powers. Others have it worse. He needs to suck it up is what he needs to do.

“Thanks,” he says to Kora, “I’ll … keep that in mind.”

She gives him a warm smile, then flounces off with a tablet full of their planetary research.

“You sure you’re okay?” Daisy asks. “With the whole …” She mimes her head exploding.

“’Course. Don’t worry about me.”

“I’ll not worry about you when you give me something not to worry about.”

“I thought you had stuff to do.”

Daisy glowers at him. “I do. But don’t think that means you’re off the hook, Reyes.”

Before he can formulate either a comeback or diversion, or something to at least give him the last word, she heads off towards the showers, leaving him in silence.

Well, not silence exactly. The Rider-voice has plenty left to say.

[avengerphobic]

Amareyes, gen.

Robbie finds Amadeus cooking a midnight snack