he doesn't even know who he is.

sad and difficult, conflicting and sad.

[furyaan-a]

pinned post.

hc-based riddick of the riddick franchise, written with heavy canon divergence and repurposed. 21+ only. by r (he/they). 21+. eastern time. very low activity. main is @axeattitude

pages. rules. stats page to come when a carrd is eventually put together.

[furyaan-a]

riddick has been moved to @coslume. please find his designated sb there.

[furyaan-a]

riddick has been moved to @coslume. please find his designated sb there.

[furyaan-a]

i may be archiving here and moving to a hub blog for riddick and one or two other quiet muses! we’ll see! i’ll definitely link if so though!

[furyaan-a]

very very slowly rotating the thought around of getting on soon, maybe.

[furyaan-a]

hiiii, i know i haven’t been here but rest assured i slowly rotate riddick in my mind from time to time. i hope everyone has been well!! here is also a reminder that i have another muse i can be found on and if you’re interested in that url, i can definitely pass it on to you.

[furyaan-a]

@fasciinating - cont. from here.

                             HE WOULD RESIST CHANGE at his own peril, he thinks, shrinking from both heat and cold, silver steel.  But Spock’s eyes do not waver as he retreats.  He is as a rock, the desert sand filling his boots, filling his spine; like he does in space, he stands straighter against the dark realm of the unknown.  It is how Spock ends up viewing Riddick’s invitation, a request — more than nothing, not quite a plea — taking it with him as the crew completes their mission and the slew of them return to the stars, nestled away aboard the ship.

The Enterprise had been his home when all others had left him, crumbled to dust, unlived in.  Vulcan is no more.  And Earth, had never been Spock’s.  Still, on the floor of his quarters, he finds himself touching the ship, fingers splayed and spreading slowly across the carpeted deck.  It thrums and pulses and pounds: a steady heartbeat under his hands.  In his mind, it is asking for his loyalty, unaware of Spock’s betrayal — has he made a decision?

He looks to the viewport, starlight glittering, searching for honesty while Spock is alone.  He feels his mouth tick into a frown.  Within him, something knows, recognizes familiarity inside the Furyan’s seemingly empty stare.  Riddick will leave.  Riddick is leaving.  Spock was aware of this fact the moment Riddick came on board.  It should not effect him the way it does, now clawing from the depths at him, scratching into his throat and leaving visions beneath his eyelids.

After minutes or hours, he rises, navigating the corridors at ship’s night until he’s arrived at Riddick’s guest quarters.  Spock means to — he should — tell the Furyan he will stay; he owes the crew, he has not yet completed his commission, his obligations.  And yet—

“ Tell me what you intend to do.  When you leave here.  Where will you go? ”

[furyaan-a]

it is lonely, to be both so known and unknown in the unfathomable maw of the stars, though riddick would never acknowledge that. to most he is little more than a predator, a beast spoken about in harsh whispers and dreamed of by hunters who invariably meet their deaths at the very hands of the quarry they foolishly seek.

there are those, whoever, who have seen a deeper truth to him, barest glimpses offered through the shadow and viscera. most of them are dead.

spock is one of them. their cores, that which makes them what they are, reach towards one another, for they see one another for who they are, too.

all that is left is to see if they will follow where that leads, or if it and all of its potential that could have been will be lost to the cold embrace of the cosmos.

the door to riddick's guest quarters opened readily for spock. there was no question of who may have been on the other side. it was spock, of course it was. who else could it have possibly been?

there is no dead air between the asking and the answering.

"find home, find furya. find what keeps calling to me."

[furyaan-a]

also. riddick just wants to go home lmao. he wants to return to his home planet. it’s a planet embroiled in war, in invaders, in fighting, helmed by young furyans who refuse to give up, but it still calls out to him either way, has been reaching out to him and begging for him to return for years. it wants him home, too. and in a universe where riddick has never fit in or belonged anywhere, where he’s viewed as a dangerous and unpredictable wild animal, he’d fit in there just fine. and excel. and if he made his way there, there’s a good chance he’d never darken the rest of the universe again. he’d melt off, a shadow in memory.

[furyaan-a]

fasciinating​ / spock:

             IF THERE IS ANYTHING Spock knows for certain, it is that Riddick has never lied to him. For so few words the Furyan has written across low tongues and whispers, whether between them or against anyone else, Riddick has been nothing but as he is, as he chooses. And perhaps, Spock’s responses — the curiosity that had awakened in his own thoughts and will not sleep — are forged from envy in that self-made freedom. It is illogical, that he might. Unasked for and unbidden. It is only that — for that — for what Spock keeps close and fights and wars with not to be released, he knows subversion when he hears it. Lies come in many forms, in many shapes and variations of distribution. And Riddick says, tells Spock he does not do deception. Ostensibly, or fervently for that matter, neither does Spock. Yet omission, distraction, aloofness, these are things Spock does do, and does well despite his arguments to the contrary. His eyes flicker across the silver pins of the Furyan’s gaze, not absolved or ignorant of the bare touch that’s come between them. Spock could breathe, now, could inhale so deeply in his growing knowing or flashing anger that they could collide. His nostrils flare. And there, just there, in a poignant pause, the stall for thought and the decision afterwards, that finally, Spock finds what he’s been seeking when standing so close to his target. “ If that is true, Riddick, ”  Spock’s chin twitches, bird-like and unabashed of the way his mind narrows on the term used against him. Gratified. They cannot discuss this, not here, any further than they have. The ears of the remaining landing party are not far.  “ Then I will consider it. ”

“mm.” it’s quiet grunt, little more than a barely there rumble, as riddick’s lips twitch into the slightest of contemplative frowns. it is the only change in his stone-like expression, but it is a significant one all the same. with others, riddick could gather all that he needs from such a short, simple response to know which way it is they intend to lean, yes or no. 

with spock, he can’t tell. 

it bothers him more than he cares for and in a manner that he isn’t familiar with. in a way, though, it pleases him too. there is novelty to it, something unexpected, and novelty is such a rare thing for the furyan to experience. 

much with spock is a rarity, a novelty. he surprises him. so few people do. most have not survived for too long after, once they have.

riddick still cares little about the crew only a short ways away. he doesn’t look to them. as it has and as it continues to, his gaze doesn’t waver from spock, entirely unmoving. “takin’ my leave soon. crew can pretend otherwise, but i can tell my welcome’s wearin’ a little thin.” a pause, purposeful. “that offer’s got an expiration date.”

[furyaan-a]

I want to at least be around here soon to get things done for @fasciinating specifically! I hope everyone has been well lately! 💛

[furyaan-a]

i’m so sorry……….i intended to be on but. work really is- awful? it’s awful. i’ve been on another muse but think about riddick all the time, even if i’m basically here for jay. i hope you’re all well!! i’ll try to be around this weekend maybe.

[furyaan-a]

he looked back up at the veranda. the elemental was still there, watching him. they made eye contact for a moment. then he turned and moved on ... in seconds, he was enveloped in shadows. it was his preferred place of abode.

FURYAAN, written by rose.

[furyaan-a]

fasciinating​:

@furyaan​ ♥’d.

              “ TO EXPECT SENSE FROM two mentalities of such extreme points of view is not logical. I surmise you have an alternative solution? ”

riddick, with an utter, cold seriousness to his voice, replies, “things don’t turn my way? now’s usually when i’d stay the killin’. usually.”

there is an edge of humor to riddick’s voice, at the uptilt in usually, or as much humor as he ever shows. mountains have moved for that humor to show itself so easily with spock. it is a side of riddick seen by no other, as sharp and strange as the humor may be. 

then again, spock sees much of riddick no one else has, or no one else ever will.

[furyaan-a]

fasciinating​:

                THERE’S A TENSENESS to his own body Spock had forgotten, that had gone unnoticed while trapped against Riddick’s directness, almost confused, blindsided even. But it’s there, he realizes, parting his mouth to breathe or refuse it—as if Spock were so confident Riddick was mistaken—this coiling akin to anticipation under his skin that’s yearning to break free, to be known, because it is. The Furyan knows. He says as much. And Spock wants to tell him it does in return, that it does matter, because he can feel its reaction to being recognized at the back of his skull, that it, too, recognizes something all too similar to its untamable boundlessness for all Spock denies it. Vulcan’s brutal past is engraved in his DNA, and Spock knows the seductive, intoxicating call of it, could feel it in his blood his entire life. The fear that he might not come back from it if he gives in. The dark whisper in his ear, pitched low and sincere, that he doesn’t have to. Spock comes from a culture whose mating rituals are based on bloodshed, and his people might be peaceful now, but they will never forget. It is the Vulcan heart; it is the Vulcan katra. It is what history has never had to teach him. He doesn’t break eye contact, “You have not answered my question,” Spock retorts, and with it his gaze narrows, “And neither can you expect me to believe your suggestion stems simply from any empathy to my nature. There is more.”

“i don’t do deception, spock.” riddick says simply, flat and true and unembellished. he isn’t looking to leak the vulcan astray. he isn’t looking to lure him from the enterprise, from starfleet, out of purely selfish desire and whims. he knows spock thinks otherwise, though. 

but the core of his spirit reaches out to something in spock’s own. and that core is lonely, and yearns for a kindred companion, as much as riddick would like to say otherwise, and as much as riddick likes to be solitary. what he desires and what his instinct desires are so very different. it sickens him as much as it intrigues him.

he has never needed anyone. he has prided himself on that and found strength in it. a lone wolf, an apex predator, poised at the top of a mountain occupied only by himself. the idea of severing himself from his connection with spock, though, fills him with something he has no words to describe, other than he doesn’t want it to happen.

“you want more, i don’t got that answer for you.” riddick steps closer. they do touch now. he searches spock’s expression, and his gleaming eyes still do not break their contact, either. “said sentiment’s illogical, but you’re gratified i chose to stay.” the furyan pauses, as if he’s trying to think of what to say next. 

he decides, even if his skin wants to crawl. he isn’t used to this. but he might be able to get used to it, with the vulcan, with s'chn t'gai spock. maybe his mere presence would not bring death to spock as it had so many others. 

riddick hopes it wouldn’t. and he does not hope for anything.

“...be gratified if you chose to stay with me.” he admits, finally.

[lovefulls]

“I hone my claws on the cold stone floor, sharpen my fangs on iron bars; if you lock me up, prepare to deal with the wrath of the stars”

— DARE YOU CHALLENGE? | d.x.y (notes to myself)

[furyaan-a]

fasciinating​:

                       MODESTY HAS NEVER BEEN a concern on his own behalf. Spock could even conjecture objectively where many of those marks come from. Though, for some inexplicable, indescribable reason, he has shed the delineation of logic for unassuming politeness. He’s been in this room a dozen times, has maneuvered about this place without disturbance or hesitation to unleash his curiosity, has given presentation for items related to duty. Still— It is a measure of privacy, he deems unreachable—inappropriate—in this moment. “I wished to inquire whether you had opportunity for a meal.” Time to spare. Spock has himself, been unable to do so until now. He looks back, successfully detached. He’d considered company for once, “I can return later should you desire.”

“...no.” riddick replies, after a moment. he chooses the second blank tank top and twists its soft, comfortable fabric in his calloused hands. usually, riddick takes whatever he can buy, steal, trade, or scrounge for, and has a few favored staples he seeks, but aboard the enterprise, his options seem near endless. 

still, riddick chooses his staples. black on black on black. 

the furyan tugs the tank top on over his head and smooths it into place. he stares down at the first tank top for only a moment longer before he grabs his goggles from the desk, which had been set on the corner, as he turns to spock again. those, too, he slips on, and adjusts them to sit comfortably over his eyes. “i have - opportunity.”

[compelledbybooks]

“I burn, I freeze; I am never warm. I am rigid; I forgot softness because it did not serve me.”

— Deathless, Catherynne M. Valente

[idyllicisms]

Wow, okay, SURE. Let’s say you DID just watch me get hit by a car going 75 mph down this parkway road, fly through the air, hit the ground with a thud, and after a few seconds you watched me get up, brush off my pants, and continue to wander into the woods, unharmed. What are you even gonna do? Fucking arrest me?