#riffraff games

[gebo4482]

Sleight of Hand

Official Trailer

Website / Steam

[theindieinformer]

Every Indie From The March 2024 Xbox Partner Preview

We've got you covered if you missed today's Xbox Partner Preview. Here's every stunning indie from the show, complete with each trailer you need to see.

Xbox held its second-ever Partner Preview showcase today, featuring developers and publishers, big and small, from around the gaming industry. Not only did the event reveal the release date for the Xbox port of Final Fantasy XIV (March 21 for all of the Eorzea sickos out there like myself) and the roadmap for Persona 3 Reload’s DLC Season Pass, but the indie developers showed up big for Team…

[geekcavepodcast]

Slight of Hand Trailer

RiffRaff Games announced Slight of Hand during Xbox Partner Preview 2024. The 3rd-person stealth-action deckbuilder game has your character infiltrating her old witch coven.

[brutalgamer]

Wield tarot cards as weapons as a witch-turned-PI in Sleight of Hand

Revealed at the Xbox Partner Showcase, RiffRaff Games gets hardboiled with Sleight of Hand, a tale of crime, mystery, and magic.

[potionwine]

Thinking about Margrace as Joshua's name post-Phoenix Gate.

Mar-grace.

In FFXVI the Undying choose their own names (Cyril explains this in-game), and many of them have names drawn from Final Fantasy XII, including their leader 'Margrace' himself, from Al-Cid Margrace. The page for Al-Cid notes that Margrace is likely an alternate form of the title 'margrave', an old title for military commanders on the border.

That aside. This is the name chosen (by the boy himself?) for the boy who should have rightfully been known henceforth as 'Your Grace', 'His Grace'.

Grace (style of address), from the Oxford English Dictionary:

With a possessive adjective: a title of respect, esp. for a person of royal or noble rank. Frequently (in 'your Grace') as a form of address. Now archaic or historical. Formerly (in England until the reign of Henry VIII and in Scotland until 1707) used for a monarch or prince; now replaced by Majesty or Highness. Even so, "Majesty" for the sovereign of England was not used exclusively; it arbitrarily alternated with both "Highness" and "Grace", even in official documents, until "Majesty" finally became the official style to the exclusion of others (source).

Grace (other meanings):

1. Divine favour, benevolence, or providence bringing about worldly benefit or advantage. 2. A person's lot, destiny, or fate; luck, fortune. 3. The quality of being pleasing; attractiveness, charm; esp. (in later use) refined elegance of manner, expression, form, or movement, esp. regarded as natural or effortless; gracefulness.

Whatever the etymology of margrave, the name Margrace in-game is probably meant to call to mind the meaning of 'mar' as in damaged, spoiled, ruined. All the grace that ever belonged to his family, his home, his birthright—marred, of course.

Mar+Grace, the last heir of the oldest unbroken ruling dynasty in the Twins at the time of the opening events of the game**.

The living ghost, carrying the desecrated corpse of his legacy in his new name. Introducing himself by his humiliation: "Hello, I am Margrace", "Hello, I am the ruined dignity of my house." "Call me Margrace", "Call me the wreckage of one fallen from divine favour." "My name is Margrace", "My name is blemished fortunes and diminished nobility".

It's appropriately brutal and dramatic for such a character, especially since the game is frustratingly silent on how Joshua personally feels about the loss of his duchy which is a rant for next time.

**Footnotes:

In the Year 860 (Prologue year/Phoenix Gate), Rosaria is about 260 years old (est. Y600). Older, if you count from the time of the Rose Alliance (est. Y550). The Rosfields have been on the Rosarian throne since the inception of the duchy in Y600, and prior to that House Rosfield was already known to be the chief of/the preeminent house of the Seven High Houses that united to found the duchy. House Rosfield has held ruling power for 260-310 years at a minimum.

For reference, England's longest-reigning dynasty was the Plantagenets, who held on for 300+ years. Rosfields aren't doing half bad!

Veldemarke would have been older had it not been overthrown by Barnabas; therefore Waloed is the youngest nation state at the time of the prologue (only 17 years old). Also we do not know much about the governance of Veldemarke, although as a 'kingdom' it was likely some type of monarchy.

Sanbreque was formed 100 years after Rosaria, and at any rate is not actually a hereditary monarchy. The Holy Emperor is voted into office by his fellow Cardinals, likely the five who form the Council of Elders. We are also explicitly told that Sylvestre 'won his throne' in 865; there is no indication either way that his predecessor emperor was a Lesage. The wording suggests the throne is not Sylvestre's by lineage or birthright. How this is supposed to relate to the concept of Sanbreque having a 'crown prince' (Dion) is unclear and contradictory, since an emperor by election should probably not have the authority to unilaterally decide on the succession of the throne, and his issue—legitimate or no—should not automatically be in the line of succession.

Dhalmekia is a republic with elected officials.

The Iron Kingdom apparently has a royal family, but nothing else is known apart from it being impotent and sidelined by their state religion.

The Northern Tribes likely do have hereditary rule, and Jill is referred to as a princess, but once again little is known.

Ergo—and I am ceaseless in this propaganda—Clive and Joshua are really, properly posh! Absolutely baffling that Anabella would allow anyone to put down the pedigree of her sons when they are so blue-blooded precisely because she is! For someone with such entrenched ideas of blood purity she should not stand for it, no matter how she feels about her eldest.

[boonary]

With the context of Riffraff being a defected DoodleCo member it makes the fact that he's canonically a Roblox Professional even funnier. He gets a portion of his earnings by gaming. This is the guy who named his sona after the Doodle Riffrat everyone

[imaginepans]

Eepy

Here you guys go

He might be a little funky but just blame that on the ai

[falloutober]

Falloutober is back for our fifth year with 31 days of apocalyptic prompts! 🥳 Just as with other years, you are welcome to fill these from any fandom or original story, knowledge of Fallout not required!

Interpret these literally, figuratively, symbolically, astronomically, aeronautically, cytoplasmically, you know, however you want! Kink, whump, fluff, art, lit, screenarchery, music, just have fun! You can merge and swap days around too as desired!

If you want me to see your posts and potentially reblog them to the falloutober blog, make sure to tag them #falloutober2024 or @ the blog in your post!

Alternate Prompts: 2020 | 2021 | 2022 | 2023

Typed list below the cut!

1 | Okey Dokey 2 | Little Fish 3| Tall Grass 4 | Western Justice 5| Hospitality 6 | Et tu, Brute? 7 | Riffraff 8 | Rattle 9 | Parlance 10 | Coven 11 | Cat 12 | Legendary 13 | Forewarning 14 | Hammerbite 15 | Stale Winds, Still Waters 16 | Bruises 17 | Leitmotif 18 | Last Patriot 19 | The "It" Factor 20 | First Blood 21 | Ripples 22 | Country Roads 23 | The One You're Looking For 24 | Plan-D 25 | Karma 26 | The Great Game 27 | Peeling 28 | Tranquility 29 | Cold Bones 30 | Golden Rule 31 | Wasteland Survival Guide

[devildomwriter]

Nightbringer Story Delivered

Major spoilers (I don’t go into depth but still watch out in case)

- We get to see the founding of RAD and why Diavolo wants to found it

- We get to see a lot of Devildom politics

- There are lots conservative demons and mentions of nobles and aristocrats and riffraff

- We get to see that the brothers didn’t necessarily fall to the Devildom but that it was the only place to go and taking them in nearly shattered the unstable peace between the realms

- Lots of examples of hatred and grudges on both sides of the angels and demons spectrum

- The brothers facing lots of prejudice and being offended by the term “fallen angels”

- We get a Cerberus backstory because of Mammon

- Lots of good big brother Mammon trying to elevate his brothers position in the Devildom to fight against their prejudice

- The brothers were held inside the castle for a full year after the war

- We see more about Diavolo having a messed up and strict childhood and just needing a break from work

- We learn more about Diavolo’s father and his very sudden deep sleep

- We see how much Diavolo struggles to navigate the present to fix the future and avoid getting stuck in the past

- We see how Lucifer and Diavolo’s dynamic changed when Lucifer became a demon and the tension it caused

- We see Henry 1.0 backstory and an explanation for his changing in size

- We get to see the hours long castle tour mentioned in the OG game that the brothers dreaded and Diavolo forced them into

- We get to see Diavolo being a bit more blunt and controlling in his youth

- We get a Lotan origin story (even though it retcons two other origin stories mentioned in the OG)

- We get to see more about the relationship everyone had with Raphael, Michael, and Simeon

- The angels being considered brothers and sisters is explained more

- We finally see why Simeon isn’t a seraph anymore and why Lucifer blames himself

- We see Simeon’s issues discussed more in depth

- We see some TSL origin story

- We meet the TSL characters and they’re intense

- We see the brothers truly becoming demons and having less and less impulse control and fitting their titles more and more, something they find strange

- Goldie’s origins explained

- The credit card in the freezer origin explained

- Lucifer still being prejudiced against demons

- Lucifer being a good big brother to his siblings and being worried they felt forced to follow him

- Lucifer trying to raise his anger child

- We see why Mammon is scared of ghosts when originally he didn’t give a crap

- We get more insight on Mammon and Lucifer’s relationship

- We get an origin story for Mammon’s gambling issues (It’s Solomon’s fault)

- Levi’s love of cosplay origin story

- Levi’s fear and self hatred and other issues explained

- Origin story of Levi’s love for Ruri-Hana

- We get to see how Levi got his powers

- Satan literally only having one emotion due to being born from one emotion

- Satan feeling out of place because the demon king told the brothers to take him in

- Satan’s love of cats origin story

- Feral Satan is literally the best thing ever

- We get to see why Asmodeus decorated the room the way he did

- Asmodeus’s issues are discussed in depth including ones we didn’t really know were there

- The surprising origin of Asmo nights

- Asmo trying to be so strong and upbeat because someone has to

- We see a deeper explanation on the original pact made between Solomon and Asmodeus

- We see how Asmodeus feels about Solomon

- We see Asmodeus was pretty interested in Barbatos even before the two shared Solomon

- We get to see how Asmodeus got his new powers

- Beelzebub suddenly developing his intense hunger that he can’t explain and can’t control

- Belphie’s issues discussed in depth

- Belphie having slight suicidal ideations

- Belphie needing someone to blame for Lilith’s death but not being able to figure out who (in our original timeline he’d obviously decided to blame humans)

- More about Lilith being a prankster and too blunt and her first meeting with Michael

- The brothers kind of blaming each other and trying not to blame each other

- The relationships progress with MC well and not just one person at a time

- More Solomon and MC and their sorcerer and apprentice dynamic

- Barbatos absolutely fucking hating Solomon and Solomon not remembering how he pissed off Barbatos at the time

- Solomon being dominant with Barbatos

- Barbatos being over all very mysterious and a bit more aggressive than the present Barbatos

- We get a solid reason for why MC can’t just return to their present timeline

- We see more of Diavolo’s powers

- The present timeline is mentioned including the brothers being anxious to get MC back

- A ghost who goes by Adam (probably not THE Adam but who knows)

- Nightbringer is mentioned a lot and heavily hinted to be Barbatos (pretty obvious)

- The interesting way MC being in the past impacts the others (they’re all very attached and comfortable in MC‘s room)

- We see where Solomon always strays in the Devildom and his relationship with Diavolo

- Solomon’s reputation in the Devildom and him forgetting most of it

- Someone is creating mass illusions and realities to trick the brothers and make them choose sides (angels or demons)

- Solomon getting really mad at Barbatos for teleporting him into a dragon nest

- Solomon offering pacts like a salesman and still trying to get one with Lucifer

- Solomon wanting a pact with Leviathan and asking Lucifer for permission

- Solomon being jealous he didn’t tame Cerberus

- We see more of Diavolo’s love and obsession with angel Lucifer and how it’s since changed

- Overall a lot of stuff happening in the story and that’s just the main story and not Devilgram which reveals even more

If you want me to go more In depth on any of these things just send me an ask

[kheldara]

last night: they made an honorary fellow out of her at the RSL! she signed a thick 200 year old book with Jean Rhys' fountain pen! She slipped into the backroom and leafed through all the old names at length! The Times has had articles all week about how [Ev*risto] is letting any old [brown] riffraff into the society and how Esteemed Fellows are Upset! The society first allowed the election of women fellows in the 1870s, but the minutes showed they simply didn't want one until the 1900s. lmao. interesting times. fun times.

Their party game is a choice of pens with which to sign: Dickens (looked leaky af); George Eliot (so elegant); TS Eliot; Jean Rhys; Byron (absurdly pretty); Andrea Levy. The child in me wanted to go for Dickens, but Jean Rhys wrote about the depression & claustrophobia with such fury and honesty that it was an arrow straight to the heart of somone who was v unwell at the time but had no words to explain what was happening. One voice in the dark to the other, until i got hauled out. There's a lot about those years I'm a bit foggy on, but her writing will always be in my blood. She was it. Spiky woman on the fringe, kinda hates everyone, kinda loves and needs them too. Ridiculous talent, restless. What a woman.

anyway, i can put letters after my name now???? let's see though lol.

[rrcraft-and-lore]

Bhats (not to be confused with the surname) - the bards of India.

Who are they? What are they? And what do they?

Well, simply put, they are/were storytellers -- the bards of South Asia.

They have also served as mythographers. What is a mythographer?

Think Snorri Sturluson or Ovid.

They will collect, translate, tell, or write collections of mythic stories that carry historical importance, pass it on, share it, perform.

As the valuation and societal weight of/on castes grew, eventually bards/Bhats were split into two sorts: An upper class and lower class in whom they served.

The wealthy, higher castes had their own bhats that served in many respects for a modern western comp. like the Maesters out of game of thrones. They would tell stories tied to and recite genealogy - family history as well as educational stories, and even perform storied eulogies for the passing of family members in wealthy families. The lower class bhats would do genealogy for patrons as well as a focus more on entertainment but not necessarily education (though you can argue that because stories are educational.

Unfortunately, this division and status worsened with time with sort of an upper class privileged bard/bhat that performed praise songs, story-tellers, and revered poets, vs the lower class "puppeteers or mummers telling folk tales only" -- considered riffraff.

The upper class of bards especially served Rajput families in ensuring glory, recognition, histories of their families deeds/goodness, birth, impeccable genealogy, all of which of course was used to continue to hold on to or grow political appeal/legitimacy and social status.

At times, bhats, along with monks (particularly of Jainistic backgrounds), and those of the Hindu Brahmin caste would compete in storytelling to mold/shape perception of tales among the royalty and those they wished to convince of certain ways of thinking by telling alternative histories or tales of family lines/kings past, and deeds done by them, and the kingdoms themselves.

Note: THEY DID NOT tell alternative versions of the epics/myths.

Now, that has happened through time and travel. There are alternative/localized versions of the South Asian myths and epics in many regions and other Asian countries due to travel and time - mostly carried through by Buddhism and its spread. This includes variations in Ramayama and Mahabharata in places.

But the Bhats, pandits, Brahmins, and other forms of storytellers/priests, sages, wise ones, did not by and large contribute to that. Not at least in the example and history here which is being relegated to their performance/duties for royal families, and then public with the lower class of bhats, who sadly continued to suffer as well as the upper class with British Raj which stripped many of their honor and status and left most historical families of storytellers by caste impoverished and these are just some light notes on one part of India's diverse and rich layered storytelling history and people who did it.

This part of the world had stories told by priests, sages, poets, bards, courtesans, and more.

It's home to so many styles and structures of storytelling (I did a primer on those a while back) unique to it and some that went on to spur/inspire structures used onward.

[gebo4482]

Sleight of Hand Trailer

Website / Steam

[taruth3mighty]

Could you summarize like each key and what happens because I joined doodle world back in like April 2022 and I can barely remember anything man

*Deep breath* You want a summary of all the events in each key? I got you, though you didn't exactly clarify if it's super specific so I'm just giving you the general broad strokes. Graphite Arc/Thunderstorm Key. Player gets doodle, meets Quincy, skip until Route 2. Player meets TJ then he shows them around. Route 2 has a bunch of debris in the way of Route 3. Engineer gets rizzed up by Riffraff. TJ shows up, Player explains what happend, they go to fetch the Engineer. Stuff happens, Player and Riffraff play games for like 2 hours. Riffraff leaves, Teneson shows up, helps TJ and Player by destroying some debris. Player gets jumped by Portia (unsuccessful) Then they arrive in Graphite Lodge. Cassidy quickly drags them to the side. Player goes to Help Center to help Alice. Player kicks some hooligans' asses before meeting back up with Cassidy. Cassidy says they need to stop Craig from catching a crystal dinosaur, they rush to the caverns. After Player beats the shit out of Craig, Maelzuri turns him into an egg. Then they get through to the forest, meets up with Portia and TJ, get past the door. Solve a maze and fights TJ at the end. Wins and gets through. They fight Quincy and then Nimbus then obtains the key. Zavier shows up, blasts the temple and Quincy's jet. Then Portia /tp everyone away from there. Von Sweets Arc/Sweets Key Player arrives, meets with Quincy, encounters a homeless guy. They meet Suzie. Suzie introduces Quincy to TJ. TJ makes Player go fight an employee to steal his clothes to get into the factory. Player goes to Chef's Valley after being told to. Quincy gets harassed by wild pizza. Player beats the shit out of a panda. They go back, they get in the factory. Player beats the answers out of the employees until von Sweets shows up. Player beats him up too. Zavier shows up but then gets put into timeout by Riffraff. Then we cheer up Suzie, then we fight Quincy (we win) and cut to Zavier and Riffraff talking. To be continued... (Tumblr won't allow me to send it in full)

[play-now-my-lord]

let me clear out the riffraff a bit: I'm an anarcho-communist, emphasis on the communist. I'm not especially a transfeminist but I think blowing off trans women who talk about transmisogyny is busted. Misandry sucks ass but more because it makes racist assumptions about what men are and experience than because it hurts white guys' feelings. If you seem like the sort of person who would do a land acknowledgement at a corporate event without understanding a word of the local ndn language I actually think you're worse than useless. Formal politics, including every election, is a parlor game for rich bastards with mortgages and reading about it will bring you only misery unless you're one of those. If you spread callouts or gossip about anyone who can't afford to sue you, you're more of a problem for the community than the person you're after could possibly be. Labels are just words and fighting people over whether they're allowed to use some word or another is goof troop shit. You're all working for the CIA by posting here and I love every single one of you

[beanieman]

what do you think of shin using internet terms in like main games. like he hits sara with a 'L+ratio+the riffraff' or something,,

I'm shocked that he hasn't already.

He seems like the type who thinks that using an internet term is a killer blow as well. Like he says "L+Ratio" and then stand there with his arms crossed and a really smug smirk because he thinks that was devastating.

[noowayybroo]

Bite Shift (Part 2) (Thanks for all the love so far! )

Characters: GN!Vampire!Reader, Corrupt Cop!Leon Kennedy

Warnings: NSFW CUZ KISSING N TOUCHIN N STUFF, Blood, Mentions of Assault + Violence, GN!Vampire!Reader, Corrupt Cop!Leon Kennedy. Mentions of / attempted non-con, biting n vampires n stuff (NSFW for violence's sake), Reader is AGAIN GN for purpose of inclusivity! None of the reader's age, job title, gender or appearances described also. Brief seduction, Copy n pasted warnings etc (am lazy monke)

Not a fun, lighthearted fic, gonna get a bit violent. Leon is entirely inspired by @lipglossanon's Corrupt Cop Leon character and Character.ai Bot!

I'm keeping this short as hell cuz I don't love the idea and I don't know what to do or how to take it seriously... Sorry!

Just further warning. In this part Leon gets pretty bitten up and he bleeds a lot and it's described in quite some detail. He ultimately ends up submitting n letting the reader drink from him. This bit is pretty graphic. More notes at the end.

"My stop's... just... there...", you say, timid yet firm as you point at a house about 4 buildings down.

Silence came the reply.

Odd.

You make eye contact with Leon in his rear-view mirror, only to find his eyebrows slightly raised as he watches the road, continuing to drive. He seems to have heard you, but makes no move to reply to or acknowledge your statement. In fact, he avoids eye contact with you as he does all but slow his vehicle. It's as if he feels almost guilty or unsure of his actions, you think, and in a split-second, you're able to realise that this man does not intend to drop you off home, safe and sound.

Offering a generous benefit of the doubt to the man, you continue to point as your house as it gets nearer, nearer, even nearer and then eventually, it's behind you.

Leon's expression is entirely stoic and hardened as you snap your head back to look at him in angsty disbelief. He picks up on the attitude in your actions and movements, and begins to wonder to himself what his next plans were as he continues to dodge eye contact with you. His eyes dart away almost nervously each time they meet yours in any of his mirrors.

Something you loved about the area in which you lived was how quiet it was, but something you loved even more was the small forest near your house. As a skulking creature of the night (and sometimes day), you often enjoyed spending time amongst the shade of the trees, basking in the cool shadow and observing the wildlife. It was also a good place to prey on humans who were up to less than good, grabbing a light snack here and there.

Of course, as a vampire, it was stereotypical that you'd drain people entirely of their blood, leaving nothing but a lifeless corpse, or that you'd bestow upon them the curse of eternal life, but you didn't have the heart nor care for all of that. Why make more of me? You think sometimes, All they'll do is compete with me for my meals. Also, killing your prey would not only draw attention to yourself somehow, but it'd also decrease your pool of prey to choose from, so so far, you hadn't actually killed.

This dilemma swirls within your mind a little as you notice Leon continue forward on the same road you lived on. You hadn't killed, but that didn't mean you didn't want to. He could be going home, you ponder, he did say his house was along here somewhere, but he could also be going... to the forest. That was a dark thought, even for you. You'd seen your fair share of horrible people dwelling in that forest, especially at night. It was like a crime city once the moon hung in the sky. A tasty crime city, little did Officer Kennedy know.

That's right, despite being as inhuman as you were, you still had a moral compass (albeit rusty.) The riffraff were your favourite meal. You could convince yourself you were doing some great deed and service to your local area, teaching them a lesson or two about karma. A game you often liked to play was, whilst attacking them, reminding them of all the bad deeds you'd witnessed them partaking in. In some ways, you saved their lives, because they fixed up quickly.

You can only wonder what you'll have to teach Leon a lesson for now as he does as expected and quickly turns off towards the forest. The car trembles a little as it meets the dusty rubble path, leading deep into the mass of trees and shrubs in your wake. A strange heat wells up within you. You know you're not shy or worried, but you can't seem to place a finger on whether you're hungry or whether the car's heaters are just a little too efficient.

Your surroundings grow darker and darker as you leave the generous street-lights on the road behind and venture deeper into the woods. Many of the trees are so densely grown that not even the moonlight dares shine on the path before you. A few minutes later, your cage-on-wheels comes to an abrupt halt on a grassy bank by the side of the path, which is so rarely used it's hard to identify. You can't help but foreshadow that the car is more of a prison to Leon than it is for you, but your mind is silenced as you hear a faint shuffling followed by a quaint click sound.

You did not expect to turn to see a handcuff fastened rather tightly around your right wrist, and the shock you were in allowed Leon to reach over and grab your other wrist, but you were able to pull away before he could secure you. The jig was up; now he would speak to you.

"I want you to make this easy for me." His voice seems almost choked at how cold it's suddenly become, his steely gaze locking your eyes in, as if all of his avoidance was saving up some kind of energy for this moment. He swallows thickly, before continuing, "If you try and run, or scream, or cry for help... or fuck with me...", he lists, shaking his head more and more aggressively as he seems to think of possible ways you could aggravate him, "It will not end well for you."

You can't help but stare back at the man, shocked. His entire cute, cuddly and soft demeanour has disappeared as he leans over you, kneeling in his seat and easily towering over you. He still seems a little hesitant, though, as if he hasn't planned this out too well. You suspect you're his first. That thought makes you shiver with disgust as you narrow your eyes at him, making your disdain more than evident. You want to give him a chance to prove he isn't like this, you really do. So, you decide to play along with him for a while, just to get a feel of things.

"Please... Just let me go, Okay? I won't tell anyone-", You plead, acting far more fearful than you really feel, hoping the bent man might straighten himself somewhat. His mouth hangs open a little as he watches you, predatory eyes cunning, calculating his next move.

You make to disobey him, noticing how unresponsive he is, almost as though his next actions are still buffering in his brain. You timidly place your free hand on your door-handle. As if you'd lit an unknown spark, you were about to witness the most fear-induced, rage-filled fireworks you'd ever seen. The officer springs to life, grabbing hold of his cuffs which are half around one of your wrists and using them to violently tug you away from the door.

The force of his pull has you crashing down over the gearbox and hand break, letting out a hiss of pain as the gear-stick jabs into your ribs. He then cuffs you to the steering-wheel before leaping from his door with the fervour of a man possessed. He's had an idea, and you don't feel fond of finding out what it entails. You do hold some inhuman strength thanks to you being you, but it certainly wasn't enough to break out of steel cuffs, especially after not feeding recently.

Your door is thrown open once Leon has finished stumbling around the front of his car in the pitch black to get to it. He doesn't say much, other than faintly grumbling and huffing as he roughly leans in to release the cuff from the wheel, and pulling back to admire his catch. He stares down at you as though you're some object he got for a bargain. He's so pleased with himself. He doesn't seem to feel an ounce of pity. You begin to feel a little enraged. Still, though, you look up at him with a pleading expression.

"Sorry sweetie, no chance of escaping now. Y're all mine, y'hear?" The officer practically drools the words into your ear, breath tickling your neck once he's pulled you up from your seat and as he uses his body to force you into the side of his car, facing it. His weight is pressed firmly up against you, and his voice is nothing but condescending and gruff as he seems to further accept and adapt to his new role, laboured by the force he's exerting on you.

You're not pretending to enjoy this at all, as you stand uncomfortably frozen. There is no doubt in your mind that this man knows what he's doing is wrong, and it's probably why he won't let you see his face.

Whoops, you were busy thinking, that and fear of humiliation kept you from answering his question. To politely make you aware of this, the officer promptly grabs your shoulders in a firm grip and jolts you forward harshly, like a child with a toy, crushing your front against his vehicle as he leans in closer, holding you rigid against the cold metal. "I asked if you heard..." Yeah, you snark in your mind, just like I wondered if you heard me asking you to pull over...

Whilst the cop's display was quickly causing you to become sore, it wasn't really that intimidating. In fact, your biggest worry at the moment was how unpleasant the cuff on your wrist felt, and when you'd get it off. First things first, though:

"Y-yes, I hear you sir. P-please tell me what you'll do with me...", It's a lot to ask for someone of such insane mind as Kennedy at this present moment, but you decide to try your luck. You'd had a good idea of what he wanted, but felt the need to pry, to be sure. Satisfied you seem frozen and intimidated enough, Leon pulls away from you slightly as he replies, the smirk evident in his voice:

"I'm gonna give you what you deserve, honey. Gonna take a little payback for your lift home, hm?" One hand remains on your shoulder, whilst the other slowly droops down your side, coming to rest on your waist. Leon's voice is thick with sick desire, his hips remaining attached to you as his torso is pulled away. The hand on your shoulder snakes up to your neck, gently grasping at your throat as he strokes your warm skin with his thumb, thoughtfully.

He then leans in again, almost burying his face into the other side of your neck before humming, "And there's not a thing you can do to stop me." He jerks his hips to the side a little until you can feel his holstered gun brush against you.

Ok, even for a vampire, that was a bit of a risk. You had some pretty powerful regenerative abilities, sure, but a gun? Repeatedly fired at you, especially once he got a whiff of your... undead-ness? You were toast if you didn't act carefully here. Somehow, you needed him to let you turn to face him.

You begin to plot to yourself, ignoring how his bodily warmth fights away the slicing cold of the night time air. You could tell he felt it too, his large hands beginning to shake amidst their new conquest to remove your clothes. He trembles behind you in freezing excitement, his breath and saliva warm and wet on your neck as he presses sloppy kisses up your neck towards your jaw. He takes in your temperature and scent with some form of feral passion as he marks you as his.

It clicks. That's how you'll do it. Leon wants to claim you, it's clear he won't be letting you go - you know his name. There's no way he'd be dumb enough to let you wonder off back into society after this. You had to act now, or something very dark would be in store.

Abruptly, you turn, causing him to retract his head a little in shock as those cold, predatory eyes meet your own. He scowls. The officer dislikes his sudden loss of access to your neck. He loathes his sudden lack of control. Temporarily, his lips quiver and his brows furrow.

...And he takes the bait. Leon leans in, consuming your mouth with his. He wastes no time in forcing his tongue into your mouth, wrestling it with yours. He seems cocky, pleased as you turn to face him now, resting your hands on his toned chest as you let him kiss you roughly, kissing him back.

He's too distracted to continue trying to pry away your clothes, and instead resumes his grip on your throat with one hand, whilst the other seizes your hip, pulling it flush against himself. The heat within him only grows. In his mind, he's won entirely. He gets to use you, he gets to abuse you, and then he gets to... or rather has to... throw you away...

But he'd rather not think of that miserable task right now, and instead, he breaks away to purr shakily into your ear.

"So good for me..." He shivers, almost groaning as his hands caress your body lazily. His pupils are fully blown, both from the night, and from the equally dark lust breeding within him. He can barely see you, and that upsets him. He's also uncomfortably cold, and so he has an idea... again. "You cold too? Want me to warm you up inside?" A deft smirk brushes his features as he can't help but let his mind wonder to God knows where. Really, though, he was suggesting moving inside the car.

That was it, that was your chance. You nod, feigning bashfulness. "P-please. I'm cold, too..." You whisper, and before you know it, Leon has yanked you away from the car with one strong arm, securing you against him tightly for fear you'll escape. He walks you far enough backwards to have access to the car door, pulling it open and forcing you inside. He seems to take some care so that you don't hit your head, but as soon as you're inside, he leans in, lifting and pushing you backward forcefully so he may crawl inside too to join you. He slams closed the door behind him and reaches up to activate the light on the ceiling of the car.

Dingy yellow florescence floods the car, illuminating the features of the both of you for the first time in ages. The shadow cast only further accentuates how menacing the man is on his knees between your legs, hunched yet towering over you. His breathing laboured, his trousers strained and his face hungry. You have him right where you want him.

So, you decide to fulfil your curiosity somewhat as Leon leans back down to assault your neck and shoulder with more kisses, beginning to pry your clothes from you once more. You remark at how oddly gentle he's being with them, for a man who probably intends to murder you.

"Officer... can I ask you a question?", You whimper against him. Truth be told, you have no idea how he may respond and don't want to anger him further, but you just can't help fuel your wonder. Groggy comes his reply, mouth still cemented to your skin, sucking and licking like a man starved.

"What is it?", he croaks.

"Am I your first victim?" Leon pauses for a moment and your heart sinks as you hold your breath, before letting out a somewhat relieved sigh at his answer.

"I guess you are.", he chuckles darkly, "Everyone's gotta start somewhere, I guess." Kennedy sucks into your neck, ensuring he leaves a mark as he can't help but grind into you, pinning you down with his weight, not that you'd have tried to escape just yet.

Talking of blood and biting starts here so please don't read further if it might make you woozy!

Eventually, he leans back to admire his work, eyes focused on the purpling and glisten of your neck. Little did he know, his own neck was soon to follow suite. You'd had enough: his smug gloating, his lack of respect, even the sound of his voice irked you violently. You could feel it within you, the hunger you'd been distracted from rising up again to the front of your mind. It engulfed you, it drove you, you pictured it: sinking your fangs into that muscular throat of his.

He had you pinned down. Your first move was to convince him to come to you.

"P-please let me... let me kiss you-", you whimper, fluttering your lashes and mustering all of your acting ability to even attempt to appear aroused. His mind races, he thinks you're a fool. You've submitted to him, you're enjoying his force and power over you. He hasn't even removed your clothes and he's already desperate to do this to more and more people.

Your mind also screams at you. He's aroused, he's fired up, his blood is coursing through him double-time. Furthermore, he's an idiot. In a matter of seconds, he's going to lean into you, he's going to submit to the minimal charm you've had to employ, and he's going to give himself to you on a platter.

You imagine your fangs extended as they usually do, emerging as fine points, perfect for piercing skin and flesh. You picture the sensation of tasting his meat with them, delighting in the thick crimson that flows from him. But that image doesn't sit quite right with you, no. That way is far too painless. You're going to pincushion him with as many of your teeth as you can at once. Heck, you might even tear his flesh from him. You're burning with rage, and hunger, as once again that familiar scent draws closer.

Your eyes focus as the man leans above you, but not on his face. You can't help but stare, transfixed at his jugular as it pulses and throbs before you - just for you.

Bon appetite.

You shoot upwards, your maw wide and fanged like that of a striking snake. You connect with his neck, biting down on as much of him as you can fit, teeth sharpening subconsciously as you dig in. He begins to choke, his breath stuttering madly as his eyes widen, but otherwise he is frozen, shocked.

Your priorities are certainly straight now, reaching down to grab his gun firmly and throwing it somewhere towards the front of the car, out of his reach. Then, your hands come to rest on his shoulders, grabbing firmly as you pull away, watching as that stream of red flows from him. In your blackened, ravenous eyes, It resembles nothing but a heavenly waterfall.

The officer's bug-eyes, wide and once staring forward now connect with your own. If you could describe his expression, parted mouth and shocked brows, he looked as though he'd seen a ghost; his own. Your face is pale, but still as enchanting as when he'd first seen you walking along the road. Your eyes were black and lifeless, like his previous intentions, your lips were red, courtesy of his own stain. His own lifeforce flowed from him, running down his front, dripping onto your clothes.

He quickly sits up on his heels, petrified gaze still glued to you as he shakes before your bloodied form. One hand reaches up to clutch at his wound, from which his red continued to ebb, dribbling from between his pale digits. His other hand made a mad dash for his gun as he further shuffles backwards on the seat, leaking everywhere. He goes entirely still when he finally realises he no longer has his firearm.

You're in no hurry to stop the officer as he blindly gropes behind him for the door handle. He's in a desperate stupor, his eyes locked firmly on yours. You don't need to stop him at all, as he falls backwards out of the swiftly opening door, grunting in pain as he scrambles sluggishly to his feet. He's going to bleed out or pass out before he gets far enough away, and he seems almost aware of this as he established a stumbling run, his only goal being getting away from that car. He has to get away from you, from your charm. He has to escape you, you... you sick freak.

You're sick. You're disgusting. You bit him. What kind of...? What person would bite... How did you bite him so... so deep? It was so painful, he felt so... He felt like he was dying. He felt rotten. No, like he was rotting. He's sick. He's ill. He's dizzy. He can't think anymore. He doesn't want to think anymore.

He can't see the warm vital fluid painting his hands and torso, staining his legs, but he can feel it. It's viscous and sticky, and gradually dries into hardened, tacky layers as he falters, surrounded by the cold night air. New on the job, he's never been good with blood. He hates the sight of it, and wondered how he'd dispose of you without encountering too much of it. Ironic, now, his mind barely has room to think, as it seemed as though you'd be the death of him.

Leon's breath is ragged as he stumbles blindly through the dark, banging into a majority of the trees, getting bashed and bruised. The overwhelming taste of iron burns his throat as he pants and wheezes, pushing his body towards exertion. He wasn't sure anymore whether he should be more fearful at how slowly he was bleeding, like you'd purposefully missed any vital arteries. You couldn't have been human. When did humans- When did humans as sweet and helpless as you-

And then he falls. The ground was wet, coated in fallen, decaying leaves, twigs and other debris which further concealed the upturned roots of each densely-grown tree. As of such, it was unrealistic for him to believe he'd get far. He lands on his outstretched palms, head hitting the tree on which he'd stumbled, as he rolls into his back, groaning in pain. Meanwhile, you slowly make your way from his car. You pick up his flashlight from the centre-console, and follow the scent of his blood in the rough direction he went in.

He can hear you slowly and ungracefully trudging through the leaves, in pain yourself. He can still make it, he thinks, not knowing that you can see in the dark, which would make things much easier for you. If he could just get to his feet, he thinks, as he turns back, struggling to rise to his aching legs again, he could escape. Maybe, if he were just quiet too.

'Click.'

What's left of Leon's heart sinks, he recognises that sound perfectly well. He'd only heard it about 10 minutes ago when he'd cuffed you. He turns, face more pale than yours, a look of horror in him as he sees you. Your face, like a scene from a horror is illuminated freakishly by none other than his own flashlight. His blood is dry around your mouth as you lick your lips, tugging your arm toward yourself and forcing him to land against you. His body crashes into yours, but without any of the force or strength he had last time, and certainly without any resistance. His breath quickens as he wheezes in shock and collapses to his knees before you, arm raised like that of a puppet as it remains confined to you.

The sight before you certainly pleases.

He still has quite a bit of blood left in him, he certainly won't die anytime soon, but he thinks he will. This horrible, rotten man, broken and on his knees. You smile to yourself as he stares down at the ground, ashamed, petrified. He shakes, frozen and terror-stricken as his blood-loss training finally kicks in and he does his best to breathe more slowly. It's your perfect time to feed, you think, crouching down in front of him, allowing his arm to fall to his side as one of your hands cups his jaw. You gently guide him to look up at you, and obediently, he follows. His puppy-like eyes glistened with tears, begging for any hope of salvation.

He was so young, he thought to himself, before berating his own selfish thoughts. Yet something beckoned him to continue, as if delving into his mind might protect him in some way, as if it may save him. He was stupid. He wanted to try something. In a way, maybe he deserved to die, he ponders as his pleading, watery eyes grasp yours. Say he'd managed to have his way with you today, say he'd gotten away with it. Then what? He'd have continued, wouldn't he? He'd have hurt more people, he'd have stolen more lives all for himself. You were simply nipping him at the bud, and he almost welcomed it in his dizzied trance.

Leon's face softens as he looks up at you, a small warm smile brushes his quivering lips. He seems to have accepted his fate as he goes yet more limp, but still watches you, respectful and patient. You have not the foggiest of what's going on in his little monkey brain, but you feel satisfied that he seems to have learnt his lesson, and more importantly that he won't fight back. He's given up on running, he knows any attempt would be futile. Really, he's just glad he gets to die a human, rather than a monster.

As you lean in, placing a hand on his back to pull him closer, removing his hand from his neck, replacing it with your lips. You begin to drink from him, the blood flowing forth so easily you barely need to suck, only to lap it up. You hadn't noticed earlier: how ravenous you were, how good he tasted... How warm he was...

...How youthful his scent was. His blood tasted... healthy. It tasted good, maybe because he was still somewhat pure. He barely even tasted like he drunk alcohol, it was completely different to the drugged, unhealthy blood you were used to. It was addictive.

Leon gasps as he feels a particularly large wave of blood slosh down his front as you pull away, drenching the clenched hands resting in his lap all over again. He recognises what you are now, a vampire. He marvels at your sharp fangs, your glittering black eyes and your captivating smile. He concedes, the officer leaning into you once again, giving himself to you as his smile only grows. His eyes close and he tilts his head, further presenting himself to you. You adore his entirely unexpected series of responses as you sit before him, getting comfortable before pulling him in again and continuing to drain him slowly.

You feel so powerful, so strong as you revel in his taste and scent. The further he submits and gives himself to you, the more excited you become, humming softly in appreciation as you pull him closer, drinking him deeper. You could get lost in this feeling, you could kill him.

Eventually, Leon begins to sway as he falls weaker and weaker. He rests his head against you, collapsing almost as you wrap your arms around his torso, hugging him close tightly to stop him moving away. Leon has no idea why he gave in so easily to you. Perhaps, he truly had fallen for you when he first saw you, he thinks. Maybe, he knew this was what he deserved after treating you in such a horrible way. It may have been that he'd known escape was futile, but he'd like to think with the last of the dying voices in his mind that he at least knew how to accept his deserved fate.

With the last of his strength, Leon gently reaches up with his free, blood-crusted hand and places it on the back of your head. He holds you tenderly, like a loved one, and gently pulls you closer, as if guiding you to continue (not that you had stopped.) He wasn't able to see how your eyes widened at his embrace, nor was he able to sense how your heart fluttered just a little. He wanted you to continue, he wanted you to have him. Consciousness abandons Leon, his hand resting on your head for a while before falling back to the ground, as enervated as the rest of him. His blood flow slowed a little as he fell senseless, leaving you with one last soft breath and a silent apology.

It was then that you realised for good that you wouldn't be making a carcass of this man. Perhaps he had planned that, perhaps he had wanted to leave you with a silent plea, begging you, praying on any mercy you had within your inhuman self for forgiveness. You couldn't bring yourself to blame him, though, as you silently tend to his wounds, ensuring that he had just enough to live.

You leave then, making a point of keeping his cuffs... just in case you ran into him again.

Leon awakens an unknown while later in a hospital bed. The mark on his neck is sore, but he is clean and heavily bandaged.

He first remembers your face,

and then he remembers the entire encounter.

He remembers forcing you, he remembers being attacked.

And he also remembers where you live.

Guys, if any of you are even still here, I really really hope you somehow... enjoyed that??? My flow was so off with this fic?? It took days and it was so hard to write n every paragraph or 2 I paused and went like bro what am I writing??? This fic is not sexy at all it is just gruesome but I think it's cute at the end where reader spares Leon but especially where leon just gives up and kinda falls for the reader. It's sick. it's twisted. I';m sorry I didn't mean for it to get that weird. i had no idea where i was going with this and I feel like I described actions too much and emotions too little but it is what it is.

I also set it up for another part....? If any of you want that but I doubt it. LMAO. I hope someone out there was able to enjoy this. I'm not horrible i just really like the thought of bringing him to justice, I guess?

I also thought of a funny WWDITS thing while I was writing that so that's why there's a link on the drug blood text lmao.

I also wanna apologise I know nothing about anatomy please do NOT come at me thanks