#ill keep coming

[bluesshoe]

Ryan Karazija (1982 - 2022) https://youtu.be/Kky1aNmWbPc

[jsblog68]

"Seen but never heard, Buried underground, But I'll keep coming"

LOW ROAR - I'll keep coming (0)

[nielrian]

is there an mmm whatcha say video for all of connor's many many many many (...) deaths? because i feel like there should be

[hermitcrabofficial]

[choose-your-own-adventure-21]

Absolutely love this song.. ✌

[pastelprinceling-blog]

What does Ryan's reaper form look like?

Ryan’s reaper form has the familiar black skull, like charred bone. Thanks to Ray’s influence, he has a inky, flowing appearance to himself, though his is far more humanoid naturally than Ray. And rather than droplets like Ray, he mists or smokes at the edges. Ray acts a bit like a hydrophobic material at the edges, little droplets hanging in the air beside his solid form, but Ryan’s body is more shapely, more humanoid, and smokier, but the same deep inky darkness.

And where Ray’s core is a rose and it’s soft petals, Ryan’s core is a succulent with thick meaty petals and tiny thorns. (Which is a really nice complement to Ray’s own core.)

[pastelprinceling-blog]

Those who only follow ao3 are missing out, because there’s a big part of chapter 5 of I’ll Keep Coming that I ended up pulling out to write differently, and I like it enough to post it here!

Ray slapped a hand over his mouth almost as soon as he started but he didn’t stop, writhing under the kid’s hand on his mouth, and as he realized slowly, the hand on his chest to keep him pinned down. His body spasmed and arched under the overwhelming pain crackling through him like fire, threatening to hollow him out.

His eyes found the kid’s, focusing on the shape of his jaw and the scruff on his chin. He had his hood up, and his eyes were hard, his lips pulled into a thin line. He was concentrating. When enough of the pain had ebbed, Ryan stopped his muffled screaming and Ray removed his hand slowly, clearly hesitant as if he’d start again. He didn’t. Instead, he worked to take stock of his body, for real this time, and his surroundings.

His back was cold, but not the bone deep chill of earlier. Just chilly, making his skin prickle with goosebumps. It was dim, sparsely lit with some light he couldn’t see from where he lay. He was naked. That much he could feel. The blanket along his body was disheveled and tangled from his thrashing.

Tile floors, metal walls, three long tables.

Ryan realized with a twist in his gut that he was in a morgue.

“...now?”

Eyes snapping back to look at Ray, he saw his lips stop moving with the question he hadn’t quite heard, and when he spoke up, his voice creaked with the strain he’d put on it by screaming, “What?” “I asked if you were done now. Screaming. I’m shocked no one heard you.” Ray stepped away from the drawer Ryan was lying on, shaking his head.

Ryan pulled at the blanket a little, pulling it up closer to himself as he pushed himself up onto his elbow, watching the room and Ray. He crossed to a bag on one of the tables, pulling out some clothes. He turned back to Ryan, looking just a little sheepish. It was a funny look for him, from all Ryan had seen of him.

“I don’t know if they’ll fit, I didn’t have a whole lot of time and didn’t go back to your place. But they should. There’s a belt and you can cuff the pants if they’re too long.” He handed things over, underwear, pants, a few shirts of different sizes and styles Ryan could pick from, “Stop being naked, we gotta talk.” Huffing a weak laugh, Ryan hummed out, “Are we not talking now?” “Nope.” Ray dropped the clothes on the drawer and walked away again, hands jammed into his pockets. He gestured with a nod of his head, “I’m gonna go check to see the coast is clear.”

He wondered idly who’s clothes they’d been, where Ray had gotten them, but decided it didn’t really matter at this point. They were his now. Jeans and a tight long sleeve shirt, pushing the sleeves up. Socks were tugged on and he glanced around before whispering to Ray who was peeking out the door. “Shoes?” Looking back over his shoulder, Ray’s eyes traced the room before he shrugged, “Sorry, forgot those.” Stage whispering in reply, Ryan gestured, “What should I do? Just go barefoot?” Annoyance pulling at his features, Ray shrugged again, gesturing back to Ryan with a sweep of his arm, “I don’t know dude, just hurry up.”

Huffing an equally annoyed sound, Ryan poked his head around, looking through things to see if he could find the clothes he’d been wearing when he’d come in. Sure, Ray’s help with procuring him something not bloodstained was nice, on the idea that his stuff wouldn’t be here, it was good to be prepared, but with some digging, he found a bag with the things he’d been wearing. Ryan rescued his jacket and shoes, tugging them on as he moved. He nearly left the bag before he felt the familiar weight of his mask hidden away under his jeans. He tugged it out of the bag and grinned, folding it up to stuff it in his jacket pocket again.

[pastelprinceling-blog]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Ryan Haywood/Ray Narvaez Jr. Characters: Ryan Haywood, Ray Narvaez Jr. Additional Tags: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Fake AH Crew, Paranoia, Dissociation Summary: He can swear he can see him out of the corner of his eye, that he can see him lingering. Waiting. Ryan doesn't know what to make of this kid, but he knows for a fact, Ray is dangerous.