#cai nikitin

[whumpcloud]

Things End | People Change - Not Dangerous

content: vampire whumpee, whumper turned whumpee, dehumanisation, muzzled whumpee, disassociation, burning, whumpee believing they deserve it, begging

"So you're still going to hurt him?" Cai signs.

Clary nods. "It's just not… worth it, right now. He already thinks I'm going to hurt him every time I move. I want to make him scared of me, it's- it's the least I deserve."

"I understand." Cai bites his lip. "I'm worried about you being here alone with him."

"You can stay over if you want," Clary shrugs.

"Are you okay?" Cai asks.

"I don't know."

It's only been a few hours, but Clary's already having second thoughts. She thinks she's hiding it well, but her twin knows her better than that, and he briefly squeezes her hand.

"He deserves it," Cai signs.

Does he? He's been hurt so badly already. But Clary can fucking feel him, hands around her throat to hold her still, and she wants to hear his dusty bones crack underneath her fingers.

"You don't have to go near him." Cai grabs the blood bag that Clary asked him to bring. "I'll feed him."

"Thanks," she mumbles. "Don't… don't be a dick to him."

"I'll try, but no promises."

—

Vincent wraps the blankets around himself. Blankets. He hasn't touched a single soft thing since being captured. And Clary, Clary was kind enough to give him blankets.

He doesn't care what she does to him. He'd deserve it, every bit of it, even if she took a knife and cut his mangled body to shreds. He'd take it gratefully, another reminder of what he is. He's had so many, but if they stop, he might hurt someone again. He'll always hurt people. That's what monsters like him do.

He's still not quite… present. He never is, not with the muzzle strapped to his face. Part of him seems to leave his body, floating in his sea of consciousness. Perhaps that's why the hunters liked to keep the muzzle on him. It made him so much less able to resist. At least at first. Now even the idea of resisting makes him shiver.

Vincent jumps as the deadbolt grinds against the door. He scrambles off the bed and onto his knees. All he needs to do is be at her mercy.

It isn't Clary. It's someone else, someone who looks so similar Vincent has to assume it's her twin. The twin eyes him warily. I'm not dangerous, Vincent pleads silently, I'll never hurt her again.

Vincent flinches away as the twin - Cai, his name was Cai - crouches down in front of him. Cai has something in his hand.

Vincent didn't smell it. It must be sealed. But it's a bag of blood, and Vincent is suddenly ravenous.

Cai smirks, and lifts the bag up, seeming to delight in how Vincent's eyes have locked on, following it desperately. Vincent whines. He wants it, needs it, has to force himself to stay still. This is just torment, isn't it? He can't imagine this is worse than whatever Cai would do to him if he tried to take it.

He whines again. Please. He doesn't care if he has to pay for it later.

Cai snaps his fingers at Vincent to force the vampire to pay attention to him, then waves his hands. Vincent stares blankly. Clary once said her twin was mostly mute, didn't she? But Vincent doesn't know hand languages.

Cai suddenly grabs Vincent by his filthy shirt and pulls him close.

"If I take this muzzle off and you bite," Cai says, in a weak, breathy voice, "I'll rip out your fangs myself, bloodsucker. Got that?"

Vincent whimpers and nods.

He sort of wishes it was Clary taking off the muzzle. Selfish creature. But he missed her. As much as he hurt her, in the brightest days where he was nothing but an object of suffering, he tried to imagine her voice. She was all he had.

His skin peels. Layers come off with the muzzle. He can't remember how long it's been on. Everything blurs together, but the deep grooves in his face suggest it must have been a while. He didn't feel the pain. Silver burns were the first thing he got used to.

Cai doesn't react. In fact, he does nothing more than fling it to the side and shove the bag at Vincent's mouth before he has a chance to speak.

The hunger is more powerful than Vincent's desire to beg while he's still allowed his voice, and he nearly melts. Nothing has ever tasted so good, even though it's animal blood that would've made him sick before he understood that he was just a worthless thing.

Cai laughs at him, how desperately and quickly he swallows the blood and drops the bag in front of him. He's still starving, but it's the first time he's fed in… in…

Cai doesn't take his eyes off Vincent to grab the muzzle.

"W-Wait," Vincent whispers. "Please don't put the muzzle back on yet. Please."

"Why not?" Cai asks.

"I need to speak with Clary," Vincent begs. "Please. Sh- She can stand at the door. I just need to see her."

"I don't care." Cai wheezes for a moment, then swallows. "You're fucking delusional if you think I'll let you near her."

"Please, it'll-"

Cai grabs Vincent by the throat. "Clary might be afraid of you, but I'm not. Keep begging and I'll give you a reason to."

Vincent nods quickly. However weak Cai's voice is, Vincent can't afford to not believe the threat. He won't ruin this already. They could take any of this away from him. They could take the bed, lock him in a room with windows, restrain him in the silver cuffs that Vincent knows Cai has hidden in his pocket because Vincent's skin prickles when Cai turns.

"Thank you for feeding me," Vincent murmurs.

Cai pauses. "I've stayed up with her all night, too many times to count. You know why?"

"Because of me," Vincent whispers.

"Because of you." Cai wraps the muzzle around Vincent's face. He doesn't tie it, just presses the silver into the vampire's skin. "She thought you would rip her throat out. I can't imagine you know what that's like."

No, he doesn't. Vincent has begged for death, over and over again, but nobody ever granted him that mercy. Clary has lived in fear of him for however long it's been and the fact that he can't remember is both an ache and a reminder of how truly inhuman he's always been. If he cared about her, like he convinced himself he did back then, he would know.

"Whatever happened to make you this pathetic," Cai spits, "you deserved every bit of it."

"I know," Vincent whispers.

Cai ties the muzzle as tightly as he can, and leaves Vincent on the floor. The awareness Vincent had dives back down, and all he wants is to wrap back up in the blankets and heal.

[whumpcloud]

Things End | People Change - Four/Six

masterlist

taglist: @whumpsday @whumpycries @whumpwillow @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @whumpshaped @suspicious-whumping-egg @chibichibivale @melancholy-in-the-morning @zillastar13 @bloodinkandashes @whump-me-all-night-long @sickophantic @thecyrulik @itsmyworld98

content: vampire whumpee, whumper turned whumpee, (lady) whumpee turned whumper, captivity, beating, panic attacks, dissociation, broken bones, dehumanisation, begging (for death at one point), questionable caretaking

It's Clary alone, this time, and Vincent's surprised, but he accepts it. She's getting braver. Good. Good for her.

He means it. He's happy that she's better, that she's working to live with everything he did to her. That she can be in his presence and not be so afraid anymore. Cai's told him a little, in their brief conversations, of what Clary's recovery was like, and it only made him feel more guilty and more grateful that she's given him a room and a bed and a meal every day, and given no indication that it could be taken.

Not that he doesn't think it could be. Of course. But it seems like it won't simply be on a whim. As long as he behaves, he gets to have it, and he's good at behaving.

"May I ask a question?" Vincent whispers.

Clary sighs, and shrugs. "Fine. Go ahead."

"Were you planning to take me here?" Vincent asks. "W-When you came to see me. I mean, you had… had the bed set up, and…"

She stares at the floor. "I don't know. The bed was here already, I just threw in an old nightstand and put the bedsheets on in case I ended up taking you for whatever reason. But the bed's here 'cause I used to sleep in it."

"You slept in the basement?" Vincent's confused.

"Because of the deadbolt," she mumbles.

Oh. Because of him. Vincent shifts uncomfortably and goes back to his meal.

Clary hates watching him feed, so she stares at the wall. Tense silence. She twists her stiff neck, and scratches where her scars are under her scarf.

"Were you going to kill me?" Vincent murmurs.

"No," Clary shrugs. "I mean, I wasn't planning to. I just… wanted to see what they'd done to you."

Vincent doesn't say anything. Clary isn't sure she's really seen any of it. The cuts and bruises and burns on his exposed skin are bad, the starving is horrific, but the begging.

The begging. How did they get him to beg for the pain like that? The Vincent she knew wouldn't debase himself in that way.

He didn't change, she reminds herself. They just killed a part of him. He didn't change.

Vincent drops the bag a good distance from himself, so that Clary doesn't have to get too close. She doesn't move from where she's standing against the wall.

"C-Clary?" he whispers. "I'm finished."

Cai's started giving Vincent his clothes, the ones he doesn't wear anymore. Vincent's hiding himself in a blue jumper that looks too big for him, and it's the same fucking one that Cai wore when Clary saw him again for the first time in years. It's not his fault. He doesn't know that it's important to her.

Why should Vincent get to have it? Why should he get to have anything from them, from her? Her heart is pounding in her ears. Chest hurts. He left her to die, and this is kind, this is the kind option, because even if she just let him go, he'd only be alone again.

"Clary?" Vincent says again, worry in his tone, and puts a tentative foot on the floor to stand up.

"Get away from me!" she snaps, and presses up against the wall.

Vincent immediately recoils, curling into himself. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I sh-shouldn't… I shouldn't have moved, I'm sorry."

He's right there, this fucking thing that has haunted her for the last four years, and he won't move if she tells him not to. Just like she wouldn't, just like he fucking trained her with the pain and the fights and the uncertainty.

"You!" she screams. "You did this to me!"

Of course he's scared. He's scared out of his stupid animal mind. But it's equally relieving when her fist finally connects with his muzzled face, and he can sink into pain. Pain is a lesson. Pain is a reminder. She hates him and that's all he needs to know or care about. Even if he wishes she didn't.

She grabs him by the hair and pins him to the floor, the force of it reverberating through his skull. He cries out, though it really could hurt worse. Clary still isn't that strong, but he'll be in however much pain she wants him to be, for however long she wants.

Clary holds him down with her left hand, even though he knows she's left handed and would hit him better with it. Because he broke her left wrist, snapped it in his grip unthinkingly, and his whimpers and cries only get louder as she repeatedly hits him in the face. Blood drips from his nose.

He goes entirely limp to make it easier to pull him up. She slams him into the bedpost by the shirt, and stands up, breathing heavily. She kicks him, again and again and again and again.

One of his ribs snaps. It's isn't a sensation he hasn't felt before. Still, a sob sticks in his throat and he raises his arms to defend himself, or to at least block any more blows to the face.

And she stops. She stares at this broken, pathetic creature on the floor in front of her, and she breathes out, and she wonders why in hell she feels like crying.

"Thank you," Vincent whimpers.

"Fuck you," she growls, but there's no real malice behind it.

And she leaves.

Cai finds her eventually, in the middle of the hallway, hugging her knees tightly, breathing as though she's drowned a moment before.

"What did he do?" Cai signs sharply.

"N-Nothing," Clary whispers. "I… I…"

Cai shushes her and kneels down, giving her his arm to squeeze. "Breathe. Four, six."

In for four, out for six. Clary breathes. In for four, out for six. Four, six, four, six, four six four six four six-

"I c-can't!" Clary pulls at her hair and Cai gently takes her hand and places it back on his arm.

"Yes, you can." Cai's whispery voice is gentle, steady. "Come on. Both hands."

"I want him gone!" she sobs. "I wanna send him back, I can't do this, I wanna send him back!"

"Think about it later," Cai replies. "You're upset."

"I know!"

Cai doesn't acknowledge the outburst. "Four, six."

Clary breathes. Cai counts for her. One, two, three, four, one, two, three, four, five, six. Two, four, three, six. Two, four, three, six. Four, six. Four. Six.

It's been four years, she's twenty-six. She's safe.

"Okay, can you do six and eight?" Cai says, using his other hand to gently rub her shoulder. "You got this."

Three, six, four, eight. Three, six, four, eight. She lets go of him. Six, eight. Six, eight. Six. Eight.

"I'm okay," she exhales. "I'm okay."

Cai smiles. "Okay, dickhead time."

He flips her hair into her face and she laughs. Weakly, but she laughs. She brushes it away. Cai helps her up, and gives her his awkward little pat on the shoulder.

"Peppermint tea?" he suggests. "And I'll go deal with… him."

"Yeah," Clary nods. "I, um… I hurt him."

"Okay," Cai shrugs. "I'm dealing with it."

The peppermint tea isn't really about the tea. It's about the process, having something to do with shaky hands, because you can't spill it. Their mother came up with it when they were kids after Cai was diagnosed with autism, as a self-soothing technique and to remedy his clumsiness. Cai adapted it for Clary's anxiety when she came back. Clary pulls the box from the kitchen cupboard. It's about the process. Focus.

Cai feels like he's going to need an entire pot of coffee after this.

He heads down to the basement. The moment he opens the door, Vincent scrambles back, cowering under the bed.

"Don't!" he pleads, eyes wide. "Please don't, please, I can't, please!"

"Come on," Cai sighs, and leans down to pull him out by the arm.

"NO!" Vincent struggles, but Cai's stronger than him, and he starts to sob as he's forced out from under the bed. "Please, PLEASE, anything else, please, I can't go back, d-don't make me go back!"

Cai lets Vincent's arm fall, and stares at him as he cries and curls up on the floor. There's a trail of blood from his nose leading down his cheek, and his chest is almost definitely swelling under his shirt. It actually isn't as bad as Cai thought it would be.

"Please, please," Vincent whispers, "don't send me back to them, I'll do anything, I'll do anything you want, please…"

"You heard that?" Cai asks. Same tone as always, but lacking the edge that Vincent's come to expect.

"Mhm," Vincent nods. "I- I'm sorry, I can't help it--"

"Shh," Cai says. Not shut up. "She didn't mean it. She was upset."

"She hates me," Vincent whimpers. "Please, please don't send me back. Please just kill me instead. Please kill me, please--"

"Neither of those things are happening," Cai interrupts, crouching down. "You're not going back, and you're not dying. You're staying here."

"But I- I wouldn't… if it were me I'd… I'd want me dead…"

"Well, unlike you, Clary's actually a good person."

Vincent doesn't understand. Vincent can't focus. Vincent is somewhere else again, more so than usual, and all he can see is the silver knife and the smile and then Cai takes off the muzzle.

Vincent slaps his hands to his mouth anyway. He can't bite, no matter how hungry he is. Cai sighs deeply.

"Come on, I'll lift you up," he mutters.

The whine of pain is piercing, but Cai doesn't hesitate. Vincent barely weighs a thing.

"Thank you, sir," Vincent mumbles.

"Cai, not sir," Cai gently corrects. "Come on, you know that. I'm gonna lay you down on the bed."

Not sir. Bed. Does he know that? He has a bed. He doesn't have one of those. Didn't have one of those.

"A bed," Cai repeats. "Laying you down now."

Vincent sinks into the mattress, and lets Cai sit him up. He slowly moves his hands from his mouth, wipes his eyes, and stares at his lap. The marks on his hands are fading, now. Fading. They aren't being replaced every day.

"M'sorry," Vincent says softly. "I… I didn't…"

Cai can't believe he ever thought Clary needed to be protected from this thing.

"You didn't know where you were," Cai finishes. "Yeah. How bad are you hurt?"

"I'll be fine," Vincent whispers.

Cai sighs. Fine, he'll rephrase to suit. "Is there anything I can do to make it hurt less? Painkillers or ice or something?"

Vincent shakes his head. "N-None of them work. As far as I know. We heal too fast for it to be useful, I think."

"You're not healing though," Cai says. "Not fast."

"It's…" Vincent tries to block Cai out of his view. "It's the blood. A-Animal blood is fine, it's good, it's--"

"Don't give me your whole grateful spiel again," Cai sighs. "I know. Just be honest."

"...animal blood will stop me from starving," Vincent mumbles. "But that's all. I need human blood to heal as normal. B-But more blood would- would help. Even animal blood."

Cai's fingers slip under his sleeve, and he scratches at his wrist for a moment. Then he backs out.

"Two bags a day, then," he says. "Clary does actually want you to heal, believe it or not. And… I'll leave the muzzle off for now. But only when it's just me."

"Oh. You don't have to do that."

"And? I'm gonna."

Vincent doesn't have a response for that.

Cai turns to leave, then stops for a moment. "If we did kill you, we'd do it quick. If that makes you feel any better."

"Thank you." Vincent almost smiles. "It does."

Cai isn't sure it should.

[whumpcloud]

things end | people change

clary nikitin has been free for four years. she's doing okay. but she's angry. and when she hears that her kidnapper, vampire vincent maddox, has been captured, she isn't going to pass up the chance to see just how pathetic he's become. she didn't expect to take him with her. but what's the point of taking revenge if he's begging her to do it?

taglist: @whumpsday @whumpycries @whumpwillow @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @whumpshaped @suspicious-whumping-egg @chiswhumpcorner @melancholy-in-the-morning @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @bloodinkandashes @whump-me-all-night-long @sickophantic @itsmyworld23 @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @annablogsposts @whumpdreamz @thebirdsofgay @sonder35 @maracujatangerine @neverthelass @magziemakeswhatever @whatwhumpcomments

general content: whumper turned whumpee, (lady) whumpee turned (bad) caretaker, vampire whumper/whumpee, lady whump, dehumanisation, captivity, torture, abuse

early vincent (1800s): a joke - a pleasure to meet you - a little trust and blood - simmering - sleep & please (ask) - blind & plead (ask) - compliant & lonely (ask) - frozen & wait (ask) - dead things -

clary's captivity: go for the throat - vincent being pathetic (ask) - stay (ask) - jealous (ask) - fang pulling (ask)

vincent's captivity: sacrifice (ask) - guilt (ask) - cigarette burns (ask) - please & burn (ask) - restrained and sleep (ask) - poisoned blood - long enough -

vincent @ clary's (start here): and he follows - not dangerous - some other man - natural instinct - vincent's panic attack (ask) - honey (ask) - four/six - sleep & quiet (ask) - vincent's nightmare (ask) - triggers (ask) - in recovery (ask)

asker interactions (non-canon): hugging vincent and clary - hurting vincent for the hug - blood and cuddles - headpat - what vincent wants - another hug - too much blood - even more hugs - safe - friendship bracelet - vincent's passion - teaching - german - chinese - puppy - slavic languages -

misc: character info - vincent's backstory (some of it) - ambrose lyfelde picrew - vincent art -

tags: things end | people change - te | pc asks - te | pc asker interactions

[whumpcloud]

Things End | People Change - Some Other Man

taglist: @whumpsday @whumpycries

content: vampire whumpee, whumper turned whumpee, muzzled whumpee, dehumanisation, mentions of past lady whump, begging (to be hurt), starvation, burns, offer to self-harm (doesn't happen), dependency, restraints

"Please--"

It never works, no matter how much he begs. Cai seems to like when Vincent begs, but he just doesn't particularly care. He always leaves in silence.

Vincent can offer something else.

"You can hurt me," he whispers.

"I can do that anyway," Cai says, shoving the bag at him. "Drink."

"Y-You can restrain me if it'll make you feel better!" Vincent pleads. "I don't care what you do to me, please. I just want to see her, just for a minute."

"Drink before I change my mind and take it from you."

The clawing desperation in his empty veins protests, and Vincent complies. Cai so clearly hates him, but is still generous enough to feed him. He can't give that up, he can't go back to starving. He would, if that's what they decided, but he'd offer anything else before that.

"Thank you," Vincent whispers.

Cai stares at him, then smirks and crouches down.

"I'll ask Clary if she'll come down," Cai says. "I'll cuff you to the bed. If she says no, you stay like that until the next time I feed you."

Vincent's eyes widen. "I-I'll do it. I'll do anything."

Cai smiles. "Muzzle on then, bloodsucker."

Vincent doesn't mind it. He can do everything to convince them that he won't bite, that he'd never even dare open his mouth if that's what they wanted, but he knows they won't believe them. It doesn't matter. He doesn't matter. That Cai's even asking Clary at all is more than he deserves. His skin sizzles as Cai clamps the cuffs tightly around his wrist and he doesn't make a sound.

Cai leaves him there. Clary's taken to sitting at the top of the stairs, and Vincent would know, would hear her heartbeat, if he was more himself than a battered body in her basement. She signs that she's okay before Cai even asks.

"He asked to see you again," Cai signs back. "I cuffed him to the bed and said I'd ask you."

Clary frowns. "Silver?"

"Obviously."

"I told you not to be a dick."

"I'm not giving him a chance in hell to hurt you."

They glare at each other, but Clary is the first to let go.

"Fine," she mumbles. "If he wants to see me so bad."

Cai stays close to her. He tries not to be overprotective, he knows he needs to give Clary space, but even imagining Vincent touching her makes him clench his fist. Clary doesn't fail to notice. She squeezes his hand.

Vincent's eyes, glassy as they are, brighten as soon as he sees her. He makes a sound through the muzzle.

This can't really be him, can it? It's some other man in his shambling corpse. He looks young. He must have looked that young before. She's not that much older than he was when he was turned, but it feels so different.

She steps towards him. Two metres apart. He stays on his knees, unnervingly still, staring up at her. He makes another sound.

"Do you want to say something?" she asks. God, he used to do this too, didn't he? Gag her so that her sharp mouth wouldn't cut his feelings, kneel down and grip her jaw so lightly it only bruised instead of breaking, and ask her what she wanted to say, and if it was anything but sorry he would-

She blinks and squeezes Cai's hand again. She isn't like him. Innocent. She was guilty of nothing more than asking a man if he was alright.

Vincent slowly nods. He's not even staring at her face. Her hands, he's staring at her fucking hands! She moves her right hand, pretending to scratch the side of her nose, and his eyes follow. She can only imagine why.

"Cai, take off the muzzle," she says.

Cai stares at her. "You can't seriously--"

She gently grabs his wrist to interrupt him. "He wants to say something. So I'll let him."

Vincent whimpers in relief as Cai pulls the muzzle from his face. Jesus fucking Christ. Clary has never seen burns like that. Have they ever healed? She has a sinking feeling she knows the answer.

"Go on," she says. "What is it?"

Vincent looks at her, finally looks at her, tears pooling in his eyes. "Cl… Clary…!"

His voice catches and he whimpers. Tears stream down his face, and she's seen him cry before, God knows she's seen him cry before, but this he can't stop. He looks as though he'd throw himself at her feet if he could.

He leans forward, nails scraping the floor. "I'm sorry! P-Please, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry!"

She stares at him. Sorry. Of the hundreds of times he's apologised to her, mockingly, genuinely, so softly she almost didn't hear it, sobbed into her hair late at night while she pretended to sleep, this is the worst one.

"Sorry." Clary swallows. "You think a sorry is enough?"

"N-No!" Vincent says quickly, and bows his head. "It isn't, o-of course it isn't! I just… I had to apologise, I had to tell you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Clary doesn't say anything.

"Whatever you want," Vincent says, trying and failing to keep the whine out of his tone. "I'll do whatever you want, I-I'll even hurt myself if you can't come near me--"

"Stop talking."

He'd never speak again if she asked it of him.

Clary takes a deep breath. He remembers breathing. Wonders what it's like to find relief in such natural reflexes. There's no relief for him. No racing heartbeat, no shuddering gasps, just the paralysing grip of fear.

"What are you expecting from me?" she asks. "To hurt you?"

"Yes," Vincent whispers. "Anything you want. I'll take it. They liked when I cried. B-But I can scream, if you want! Or beg? I-I'm yours, whatever you want to do to me, I'm yours."

"Jesus Christ!" Clary hides her face in her hands and screams in frustration. "No. No! Neither of us belong to the other, we never did! Have you ever had a normal fucking relationship with someone?!"

He doesn't… understand. He needs to need someone. First his brother, then Ambrose Lyfelde, then Clary twice over. And in between he only ever felt lost. Isn't that normal? To need someone?

Clary says a string of swears, the kind of language he always hated her using, and clenches her fist. Vincent lifts his head to make it easier to punch him. She only screams again.

"Cai, get him a fucking basket muzzle," she says. "No silver. So he can speak without having to take the thing off."

No silver. "Th-Thank you!"

Clary doesn't even acknowledge him. "I'm going out. Uncuff him. I don't care if you muzzle him again."

[whumpcloud]

Things End | People Change - Natural Instinct

masterlist

taglist: @whumpsday @whumpycries @whumpwillow @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @whumpshaped @suspicious-whumping-egg @chibichibivale @melancholy-in-the-morning @zillastar13

content: whumper turned whumpee, vampire whumpee, bad caretaker, references to torture (sensory deprivation and sun burning), starvation, begging, muzzled whumpee, dehumanisation

Clary's feeding him now.

Well, maybe that's a stretch. She's still keeping her distance, and Cai is still the one that removes the muzzle, but she's there, and that she's even worked up the courage to be there means the world to Vincent.

She knows it, too, and it makes her avoid acknowledging him at all. She goes down, she stands there, and she goes back up. And it makes him so happy.

Clary screams into a pillow. She hates him, she does, for ripping her away from the world and making her terrified to even step out onto the porch at sunset. She saw exactly what the hunters did to him and she has a violent urge to do it all to him, a thousand times worse. Chain him up and make him scream for mercy.

But he would do it and thank her, and that's the part she can't stand.

Because nobody should ever suffer so deeply that they'll thank you for the pain?

No, it's because she wanted to make him that way. Not anyone else. She wanted to break him down to this shell and then keep breaking. Didn't she? Doesn't she?

She feels dizzy.

Cai raps her nightstand and tries to offer her a smile when she looks up. "I'm going to feed him. Coming along?"

Clary sighs, and nods.

Vincent is somehow beginning to look worse. Clary thinks it's that he's fed - his newer injuries have bled a little, and she isn't sure Vincent knows that she's noticed it. He's bruised, too, around the wrists and throat and ankles. Vampires need blood to heal, same as a human, they just do it much faster.

Cai's figured out that he can thread a straw through the basket muzzle so that he doesn't have to take it off, and something about that nags at Clary, but she ignores it. This is what she wanted.

"Thank you," Vincent says, half-smiling.

She watches him, the way he holds and drops the bag. Better than anyone she knows Vincent can't control his strength, and he's been progressively clutching it tighter, leaving marks in the plastic. He's not so weak anymore. She finds herself unable to be afraid even so.

"Cai, I want to be alone with him," she says.

Her brother turns towards her. "What?"

Vincent freezes. This is it. This has to be it. She's finally realised that he wouldn't dare fight back and she can do whatever she wants to him. At least there's warning. A moment of preparation. Unlike the hunters, where they deprived him of his senses until he didn't even have the privilege of hearing their footsteps coming towards him.

"Just go, I'll be fine," Clary says.

"I'm cuffing him," Cai signs sharply.

"I don't need you babying me," Clary replies. "Go."

"I'm not-" Cai groans and takes a deep breath. "Please. It's for your safety."

"I'm perfectly fucking safe!" Clary snaps, then shuts her eyes and clenches her fists when Cai recoils. "You've been getting close to him for days and he hasn't done a thing. This is my trauma. I get to handle it how I want."

Cai hesitates. "I know. I'll… go."

Vincent whimpers when Cai turns back, and shakes him by the collar of his shirt.

"Hurt her and you won't even be able to beg when I'm done with you," Cai hisses. "Got it?"

Clary seems annoyed, but she doesn't step in. Vincent nods, and Cai lets go.

They're alone. She's alone with Vincent.

"Is he outside?" she asks.

"H-Huh?"

"Cai. Is he outside the door? You can hear him, I know you can."

Vincent listens. He's gotten used to the sound of Cai's heartbeat. He nods.

"So if you do anything, he'll know."

"I understand," Vincent says. "B-But I won't. I promise you, I won't even touch you."

She stands there, for what seems like a long time, saying absolutely nothing. Vincent shifts on his knees and she flinches. He keeps still after that.

"How did you get caught?" she says, and it's quiet, but it sounds loud in this room.

"I was careless," Vincent mumbles. "I picked one off a group. It was my bad luck that they were a group of hunters."

Clary scoffs. "Don't be stupid. You think I'm gonna believe that?"

"It's the truth."

She searches him, for any sign that he's making it up to seem weaker than he really is, but she can't sense it in the slightest. He attacked a group. Why would he even contemplate it?

She takes a step closer. "Why did you keep asking for me?"

"I missed you."

"Like hell you missed me," she growls, and he flinches. "You left me to die and you wanna say you missed me?!"

"I'm sorry!" Vincent whimpers, and presses his forehead to the floor. "I know, I know I'm awful, I shouldn't have done that to you, I'm sorry--"

"Shut up!"

Vincent digs his nails into his palms but he keeps his mouth shut.

"You abandoned me!" Clary snaps. "You got bored of me and left me bleeding out in the woods and you expect-- you expect what?!"

"...C-Clary, I didn't…" That isn't what happened, is it? Vincent doesn't remember clearly. "I wasn't bored of you. That's not what happened."

"Don't just tell me that's not what happened," Clary snarls.

"I d-don't… remember. I'm sorry. I should remember, I'm so sorry." Vincent can hear her getting closer. "But I didn't… I didn't want to. I never wanted to."

"I was a plaything to you."

"No, you weren't," Vincent whispers. "I'm sorry, I know I… I used you, but you were always a person. Even when I said you weren't. I didn't mean it, I-- you were everything to me, Clary. You still are. I wouldn't lie to you, not now, please."

There's no way she should believe him.

He holds up his hands, keeps his head on the floor. "I-If you want to hurt me, I'll… I'll bleed, now. If you want that. Is that what you were waiting for?"

He sounds almost fucking hopeful. He clearly doesn't actually want to feel pain, she can tell that much. But he does want her to hurt him. He's practically desperate for her to hurt him.

"Just… get up," she mutters. "Stop doing that. You look like an idiot."

Vincent sits up, forcing himself to do it slowly. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

She kicks him in the chest, more out of blind frustration than anything. It doesn't hurt that much, but Vincent whimpers like it does. He's gotten good at that. Screaming louder than normal, whining on purpose, begging incoherently when he could easily form the words please and no and stop. Sometimes it made them stop sooner. Mostly it did nothing, but it was worth trying, because it made them smile in that skin-crawling way and tell him he was taking it so well, bloodsucker, maybe I'll only leave you in the sun for an hour instead of two and he could hope.

Vincent jumps when Clary's hand is placed on his cheek.

"I-I'm sorry, I'll stay still," he murmurs.

Clary doesn't reply. She's shaking, of course she's shaking, but he keeps his mouth shut, regardless of the muzzle. Is she going to slap him again? That's surely far less than he deserves.

Her hand creeps behind his head. Her eyes are locked to him. Watching like a hawk. He doesn't move. He stares straight ahead.

He feels her pulling at the muzzle, and then it falls from his face onto the floor. He wants to stare up at her, but he tenses and forces himself to be still.

Her wrist is in front of his face.

"Nnh!" Vincent opens his mouth on instinct and promptly shuts it. Her pulse, he can see and hear and almost feel her pulse under her skin. He never once fed from her wrist, but he has a few times in years past, and he's sure he could do it.

Vincent tries to pull back, but Clary holds her wrist up against his lips and his teeth scrape her skin and he could drink human blood again if he just pierced her skin and took it.

Animal blood is not enough. It will keep him from starving, but just a little human blood will make him feel almost alive.

Clary watches. Clary says nothing.

"C-Clary," he whines. "Clary, please, it-- can I? Please, can I? Please, please. Only a little. P-Please."

Permission. He wants permission from her. Clary grits her teeth. She wanted him to take it, to prove that he's exactly how he is in her fractured memories.

Vincent didn't change. His captivity just brought one side to the forefront, the side of Vincent that cried as he held her, that brought her almost anything she asked for in an attempt to make her happy, that might have even cared, if Vincent was capable of doing that, if she believed Vincent was capable of doing that.

"I hate you," she hisses.

Vincent lets out another soft whimper as Clary locks the door. Was that a test? But she acted as though he failed by not feeding from her. Did she want him to? Surely not.

He brings his knees to his chest and hides his face in them. Was it because he begged? Was it because he considered doing it at all?

Natural instinct is no excuse. He should've been better than that, after all of this, after all of this pain. It wasn't enough. It might never be enough, but he'll happily submit. He won't be a monster. Not ever again.

He clutches the muzzle. He doesn't know how to tie it, but he presses it to his face, and holds it there. He won't bite. Please, he won't bite.

[whumpcloud]

can we see Vincent having a nightmare and how clary/ cat react to it especially if he doesn't know where he is when he first wakes up

we CAN <3

content: vampire whumpee, nightmares, muzzled whumpee, references to torture and captivity, dehumanisation, questionable caretaking

Vincent is still asleep when they come down to feed him today. He's started to sleep later and later - probably his body returning to a more natural rhythm. Cai goes to shake him awake, then pauses.

"He's shivering," Cai whispers.

"So?" Clary frowns. "Just wake him up."

Cai sighs, but concedes, and shakes Vincent by the shoulder. Vincent whimpers softly.

"Come on, wake up," Cai hisses, shaking him again.

Vincent's eyes snap open and he screams, backing away so quickly that he falls off the bed and hits the floor with a heavy thud. He curls up, feeling every effect of the panic and fear except the physical ones he actually wishes he could feel.

"Don't, please, please don't, p-please!" he cries, scratching at the muzzle like it's burning, even though some part of him knows it isn't. "Please don't hurt me anymore, please!"

Cai climbs over the bed and Clary goes around. The fact that they're approaching him at all makes him scream again and hide his face in his knees.

"I'm begging you, please!" Vincent tries, desperate to avoid the pain he knows is coming, he knows he deserves. "I c-can't, I can't take it, please don't, please just let me be today, p-please!"

"Vincent," Cai says, quiet but firm.

They didn't call him that, not once. It was bloodsucker or parasite or leech or that stupid fucking thing or the ashtray or the punching bag but not Vincent. He knows that, he thinks. He doesn't know anything right now except that he's going to get hurt.

He hears someone crouch in front of him and he tries to scramble away again, but a hand grips his hair. He whimpers, soft sobs in his throat.

"Vincent," Cai says again, softer this time. "Look at me."

He can't refuse an order like that. He looks up. Blond, curled hair falling into brown eyes and Cai smells like honey not blood or smoke or burnt flesh or concrete.

"C-Cai," Vincent mumbles. "You're… here…"

"Yep, pretty sure I am," Cai says flatly. "And so are you."

Clary keeps her distance, but Vincent glances at her anyway. Clary's here. All the wishing in the world didn't make her reappear when he was with the hunters.

He's… safe?

Well, he isn't getting hurt right now. That's as close to safe as it gets.

Vincent's face burns in shame. "I'm sorry. I… had a nightmare…"

"It's fine," Cai shrugs. "Sit up, I've got your food."

Cai called him by name just a minute ago.

Vincent slowly pulls himself upright, and silently drinks from the bags. He watches Clary for most of it, without her really noticing. She's watching anywhere but him.

When he's finished, she finally speaks.

"Are you alright?" she asks, a frustrated edge to her voice.

"Am…" Vincent stops himself. "I'm fine. Thank you for asking, Clary."

That she cared enough to ask makes him so visibly happy that Clary forces herself to look away again.

"Good." She pauses. "If… if you ever have a nightmare like that again, try, um, focusing on specific things. What you can feel, for you, I guess, since you think you see and hear stuff."

What he can feel. The floor and his clothes and the fear but he ignores it. He nods quietly. The twins leave, and he presses his knees to his chest and cuts his bottom lip open with his fangs when he bites down.

Cai locks the door and turns to his sister.

"That was nice of you," Cai signs, eyebrows raised.

"Don't remind me that I was fucking nice to him," Clary mutters.

taglist: @whumpsday @whumpycries @whumpwillow @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @whumpshaped @suspicious-whumping-egg @chibichibivale @melancholy-in-the-morning @zillastar13 @bloodinkandashes @whump-me-all-night-long @sickophantic @itsmyworld98 @kira-the-whump-enthusiast

[whumpcloud]

hiii can we get some more vincent desperate for affection pleaseeee?

ask and ye shall receive

taglist: @whumpsday @whumpycries @whumpwillow @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @whumpshaped @suspicious-whumping-egg @chibichibivale @melancholy-in-the-morning @zillastar13 @bloodinkandashes @whump-me-all-night-long @sickophantic @thecyrulik

no content warnings, unbearable fluff ahead

"How long has it been?" Vincent asks. "Since… since I was brought here."

"Two and a half weeks," Cai shrugs. "Why?"

"Just curious," Vincent mumbles.

Somehow he thought it had been longer. He's sleeping irregularly, so he can't use that to track the time, and it isn't as though there's a calendar or a clock down here.

"How are you feeling?"

Cai's taken to asking that, and Vincent isn't sure why. The first time he did, Vincent said it didn't matter, but Cai insisted on getting a real answer out of him, so it's just another part of the routine now. Door, blood, how are you, bye.

"I'm okay, I think," Vincent replies. "I'm less tired, in the last few days."

"Yeah, you seem to sleep a lot," Cai says, then pauses. "...I was thinking, do you want anything?"

Vincent stares at him. "What do you mean?"

"Like, I could get you some new books," Cai says, coughing slightly. "Sorry. Download some more songs for you. Get you more blankets. I dunno. Whatever."

"I don't need anything," Vincent replies quietly. "You've already given me a lot."

"Literally not what I asked." Cai sighs. "Do you want anything? I'm not gonna say no, unless it's something obviously dumb. Not gonna let you die of boredom down here."

Vincent pulls his knees up to his chest. He's stopped kneeling on the floor by now, he just sits on the bed and makes sure not to spill a drop of blood onto the sheets. Does he want anything?

One thing, but how is he supposed to ask?

"No," Vincent mumbles, unsure.

Cai raises an eyebrow. "No, but…?"

"I don't think you would give me it."

"Definitely not if you don't tell me what it is."

"...a hug."

He's mostly expecting Cai to just laugh at him. A tiny, tiny part of him dares to hope. Cai was willing, if reluctant, to hold his hand during the panic attack. He knows this is a step further. Maybe a step too far.

"Sorry," Vincent says, curling up tighter. "That was a stupid thing to ask for."

Cai chews the inside of his cheek for a moment. "Fuck it, sure."

Vincent squeaks like a chewtoy when Cai puts his arms on Vincent's shoulders and hugs around the neck. Frozen in place.

"Jesus, you're cold," Cai mumbles.

"S-Sorry."

"Did I ask you to apologise?"

"...no."

"Cool. Shut up then."

Shaking, Vincent tentatively wraps his arms around Cai's torso, and stays like that for a moment before pulling Cai closer and hiding his face in Cai's shoulder.

"Are you alright there?" Cai asks.

"Mhm," Vincent mumbles.

Vincent's mangled fingers curl into Cai's hoodie. Soft and warm and safe. He shouldn't feel safe in the slightest, but no matter what Cai has threatened, he hasn't followed through, he's still here, and… and…

"You smell like honey," Vincent murmurs.

Cai laughs softly. Cai has a nice laugh, when it's because of Vincent instead of directed at him.

"Yeah, it's my conditioner," Cai whispers. "Fuck, that reminds me. You should probably take a bath."

Cai pulls away, and Vincent resists whining.

"A bath would be nice," he says. "But I… I don't have any other clothes."

"It's fine, I'll wash them," Cai shrugs. "You can borrow mine for a bit."

"...do I have to wear the cuffs?" Vincent mumbles.

Cai thinks for moment. "No. Clary's not here. Gimme just a second."

He disappears through the door, and Vincent waits, arms curled around himself, feeling colder than ever. He wants Cai to hug him again.

He reappears. "Come on."

Vincent follows. Cai keeps a firm, if light, grip on his arm, but it isn't really necessary. He doesn't even think to try anything. Especially not with the promise of a bath.

It's surprisingly dark. Did Cai… shut the curtains for him?

Oh.

The blinds are drawn in the bathroom, and Cai has laid out some clothes and a towel for him. Cai says to take as long as he wants, but Vincent doesn't want to risk staying so long that Clary comes back and he has to be cuffed for her safety.

Why isn't Cai afraid of him like that? He clearly believes Vincent could and would hurt Clary, given the opportunity. Shouldn't he therefore believe that Vincent would attack him if it came to it?

Vincent rests his head on his knees. The bath is warm. It's not for her safety at all, is it? It's for her comfort. Cai so clearly just sees Vincent as some pathetic creature, memories of him the only thing left to be afraid of, and he cares much more about Clary's feelings than any pain Vincent suffers.

But Cai's the closest thing to nice that Vincent has experienced in years. Vincent uses the honey-scented conditioner. It's good for his curls, according to the label on the bottle. He smiles a little half-smile to himself.

[whumpcloud]

you know, i’d love to see vincent have a panic attack. or or or, clary having one because of vincent and then taking it out on him afterward 👀

OH ANON. ANON. YOU'VE ACTIVATED SOMETHING IN MY BRAIN. THIS IS PERFECT FOR A PIECE I HAD IN MIND. but here's vincent having one in the meantime <3

taglist: @whumpsday @whumpycries @whumpwillow @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @whumpshaped @suspicious-whumping-egg @chibichibivale @melancholy-in-the-morning @zillastar13 @bloodinkandashes @whump-me-all-night-long

content: panic attacks, vague allusions to vincent's torture trauma

It's the door slamming shut that does it.

He doesn't know why. It's the same sound he hears every day, because Cai isn't a very careful person, and Vincent's gotten used to that. But it makes him jump, and he presses against the bedpost, trying not to leave his back exposed.

Cai doesn't seem to notice. He shoves the bag at Vincent as always, and Vincent gratefully accepts, hoping that the distraction of being fed will calm him.

It doesn't. Vincent's hands shake. That Cai notices, and he raises his eyebrows.

"What?" Cai rasps. His speech is worse than usual today.

"M'fine," Vincent mumbles, just trying to focus on the sensation of swallowing blood. "Thank you."

"Yeah, whatever."

Vincent is still shaking when he drops the bag, and he takes a shallow breath despite the instinct to do so long having faded. Cai pauses. Hesitates, even.

"Seriously, what is it?" he asks.

"I- I don't know," Vincent squeaks.

Cai's eyes widen in something like recognition. "Oh, God. Okay."

Cai actually settles down, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of Vincent, and sighs before he speaks again.

"You're having a panic attack," he says flatly.

"A w-what?" Vincent can't understand why his voice sounds like this, why it's so strangled and scared.

"Sometimes it has a cause, sometimes it doesn't, but basically you're gonna feel terrified for a while, and then it'll fade," Cai explains, wheezing between pauses. "Fuck. Sorry. Look, just sit tight. It'll end. Clary has them all the time."

Vincent tries to speak again, but all that comes out is a whimper. He can't even make the shapes with his mouth to speak. He isn't sure he remembers how right now.

How can he forget something like that? His eyes are filling with uncontrollable tears.

"Don't try to speak," Cai says. "Don't try to do anything that isn't soothing."

Soothing, what could possibly be soothing? He feels like he's going to die. His throat tightens.

"H-Hnn…" Vincent watches Cai, watches him stay entirely still. "P-Please…"

He can still beg. He's not sure he can beg for what he actually wants, but he can say please and that's all he needs right now.

"Please what?" Cai frowns.

"Please," Vincent says again, and holds out his hand, curling and uncurling it. "P-Please…"

Cai stares at him for a moment. Vincent's lucky it's Cai, because Clary would've lurched away and he can't handle the thought of that right now. He can't handle any thoughts. He can't think at all.

"I don't…" Cai closes his eyes and sighs when he realises what Vincent is trying to ask for. "Jesus. Just this once."

Cai grips Vincent's hand. He tries to mumble a thank you, but Cai just shushes him. Cai isn't fazed in the slightest. Annoyed, perhaps, but he just leans his chin on his free hand and lets Vincent dig his nails in.

Vincent restrains himself. "C-Could break--"

"If you could break my bones right now I'd be shocked," Cai deadpans. "Squeeze as hard as you like."

It's all the permission Vincent needs. Cai won't say it isn't uncomfortable, but it's certainly not painful, and the vampire doesn't appear to be holding back. Aren't they supposed to be stronger than this? What a joke.

Cai waits, silent and patient, for Vincent to stop rocking back and forth and to awkwardly let go of his hand.

"I'm sorry," are Vincent's first words.

Cai rolls his eyes. "For what? You couldn't control it. I could've left you here."

"I- I know!" Vincent hasn't completely come down from the emotional spike, and he twitches anxiously. "Thank you for s-staying with me, I know you didn't have to and- and I really appreciate it. S-Sir."

Cai blinks. "Sir? Seriously?"

Vincent slaps his hands over the muzzle. "S-Sorry, I… when I… some of them made me call them that, a-and… I d-didn't intend to say that at all."

"No, I get it," Cai shrugs. "You just defaulted 'cause you're still scared and you don't want me to hurt you about it."

"I…" Vincent furrows his eyebrows. "Perhaps? How do you know?"

Cai gestures unhelpfully. "I'm good at explaining why people do stuff. I do it for Clary all the time. It makes it easier to calm down."

"Mm." Vincent doesn't think he can really ask, but he wants Cai to hold his hand again. It's the only physical comfort he's gotten in… years.

It's been years.

"All good?" Cai asks.

"Y-Yes," Vincent nods. He'll get up and pace once Cai leaves. "Thank you again."

"Cool."

"I-- wait." Vincent doesn't look at Cai directly as Cai stops and turns to listen. "Why did you stay? You… I know you hate me."

"Yeah." Cai shrugs again. "I hate your guts."

Cai shuts the door behind him without slamming it, this time, leaving Vincent at an absolute loss.

[whumpcloud]

TE | PC: Swap AU - Thrown Away

masterlist

content: bloodbag whumpee, vampire caretaker(s), intimate whumper, begging for death, broken bones + blood, referenced muzzling and beating, very very brief reference to noncon

Vincent is out of it. The world has been a blur for months now, and all he has the strength to do anymore is lie here and wait until he can be useful again. Though he isn't sure how useful he can really be, at the moment. He has no more blood left to offer, no more bones to safely break, not even enough of a mind to make it fun when it gets twisted and damaged like every other part of him.

The door clicks, and Vincent glances up. A vague, familiar feeling of fear grips him.

"Vincent, dear, you look awful," Lyfelde says, faux-softness in his tone. Vincent closes his eyes again as Lyfelde's hand cups his face. "Poor thing. You really have nothing left to give, hm?"

"Do you need something, Mr Lyfelde?" Vincent asks. "I'm exhausted…"

Lyfelde only ever wants two things anymore - Vincent as bait, or Vincent in his bed. Today, Vincent is finding himself hoping it's the former. But at least Lyfelde wants him.

As if Lyfelde ever wanted him at all, and not just someone to take advantage of. But that's not something Vincent lets himself think about.

"Come on, get up."

Vincent knows better than to disobey, but even pushing himself to sit up properly is an effort that makes his body tremble.

"Oh, Vincent." Lyfelde laughs softly as he helps Vincent to his feet. "It's alright. It'll be over soon enough."

Oh. Lyfelde doesn't want him.

Vincent wishes he could wonder what Lyfelde means, but he's known for a while. One day Lyfelde was going to let the bloodbag be killed. Vincent is desperate for that, at this point. For it to just end and go back to the way it was before Clary. But it won't.

So he doesn't struggle or complain, even as Lyfelde lays him in the trunk of a car. He just curls up, knowing what's coming. The car jolts his limp body, and he does an equal amount of nothing when Lyfelde lifts him out of the car. It isn't as though he has a choice, anyway. He doesn't have the strength to make a choice.

Lyfelde props him up against a wall, and pulls out a pocket knife, taking Vincent's hand and gently cutting a line through his palm. These things barely hurt anymore.

"You'll make a nice snack for some lucky bloodsucker," Lyfelde says, like he's stifling laughter. "You did well for so long, dear. But there's nothing much left in that pretty head of yours, is there? No fun at all."

Vincent can't say that Lyfelde is wrong. He bristles at the words anyway, and watches blearily as Lyfelde walks off.

At least he'll spend his last moments being useful. That's all he ever is.

Sunset, he thinks, as he stares up at the sky. Of course Lyfelde wouldn't put himself in danger just to abandon Vincent. And it means there's an entire night left for a vampire to find him and make this stop.

Vincent doesn't close his eyes until the sun is out of sight, and savours the memory.

---

Someone got messy with a meal, Cai thinks. That's what it smells like, anyway. That, or it's vampire hunters again. Cai is getting sick of them using themselves or each other as bait. Humans have such pathetic ideas.

Still, he hasn't eaten in a few days, and he's quick enough that he can get away if it's a trap. So he follows his nose.

Oh. That isn't bait, for sure. That's someone else's sloppy seconds, thrown onto the ground without a thought. If Cai couldn't hear the heartbeat he'd have thought the man was dead.

Cai crouches down. "Hey."

The human lets out a small, pained sound. "Are you a vampire?"

Cai tilts his head. "Yeah. Why?"

"Can you kill me when you're finished?"

Normally, Cai wouldn't bother answering and just do whatever he felt like doing. He isn't in a particularly murderous mood tonight, but that's really besides the point. Something has happened to this human. Whoever had him before did something awful to him.

"I don't want to leave you dead on the street, honestly," Cai says flatly. "I'll take you back with me. I'll bury you in the garden."

"...okay," the human breathes. "That sounds nice."

It probably shouldn't, Cai thinks. But it isn't his business if this human wants to die. He easily hoists the human over his shoulder and walks back to the house.

By the time Cai slams open the door, the human is fully unconscious, and Cai drops him unceremoniously onto the coffee table.

"I got dinner," Cai signs.

Clary freezes completely, her eyes widening. She grips the fabric of the sofa hard enough to tear it. Vincent, her Vincent, passed out on the coffee table, bruised all over, broken fingers and bloodstained skin, bite marks on his neck as though he's been someone's chewtoy.

"Dinner?" Clary squeaks.

"Is there something wrong with it?"

"That's Vincent." If Clary still breathed, she would be hyperventilating. "Vincent w-who--"

"Oh." Cai's face falls a bit. "He asked to die anyway. Do you want to kill him or will I?"

She feels faint. "He asked?"

"Yeah."

She could kill him. She could kill him, and who would know? Who would care? She wouldn't.

Lyfelde might.

"This could be a trap," Clary says suddenly. "By Lyfelde. To get me back. Or kill us."

Cai hesitates. "Would he really do that to Vincent?"

"I… I wouldn't put it past him." Clary looks over Vincent again. He's far too pale. "You have no idea what Lyfelde was like. I-If he was the one who- who had me, I- I wouldn't have gotten out, I--"

"Okay, I understand." Cai sits down next to Clary and squeezes her shoulder. "What are we going to do, then?"

Clary stares at Vincent, a million thoughts in her mind, and only one seems like the right answer. She thought she'd feel something if she saw him like this. Broken and battered. But there's no catharsis, no relief. He just looks older and more tired and less like the Vincent she knew and more like a dead man walking.

"Keep him," she says, finally. "If it's a trap, we'll be hurt worse for killing him. If it isn't, then there's no point in killing him like… this. It wouldn't feel any good."

The only way she will get any catharsis is with her own two hands wringing Vincent's neck.

"We can leave him on the couch," Clary mumbles.

---

Vincent… wakes?

Fear sets in. He asked to be killed, he knows he did, why would they keep him? He's a stupid, broken bloodbag, and he's barely even useful for that. A panicked sob escapes him.

A moment later there's someone looking over him. Same blonde hair and brown eyes, but the face is far, far more familiar this time, and Vincent squeezes his eyes shut again.

"Oh no, Clary," he whimpers.

He's utterly defenceless. She could rip his throat out with her teeth right now and he could do nothing to stop her. Tears stream down the sides of his face.

"Vincent," she says, and Vincent feels as though if he opens his eyes, he's going to see hers blazing in anger.

"I'm sorry!" he blurts out, bracing himself to be hurt. "I'm so, so sorry, I'm- I--"

"Stop talking."

He promptly shuts his mouth. He'd never speak again if she asked it of him.

Clary sits on the coffee table. She looks nice. He got so used to seeing her muzzled and bound and beaten that it's odd that she's simply… sitting there.

"Are you just apologising because you think I'm going to hurt you?" she asks, almost hisses it.

"N-No!" It's not quite the truth, and Clary only has to glare at him again to get him to admit it. "Yes! I'm sorry, please don't kill me, please, I- I can be useful, I--"

"Useful?" Clary snaps. "How exactly can you be useful to me?"

"M-My blood, my blood, you can feed from me!" Vincent tilts his neck, and Clary can only see even more scars and bruises that make her insides twist. "I'm j-just a bloodbag now anyway, I can- I can take it!"

Clary doesn't even know where to begin. Vincent, a bloodbag. If he didn't look the same, she would wonder if he was Vincent at all.

"I'm not going to feed from you." Clary folds her arms. "You look like shit and your blood smells gross."

Of course. He's only a bloodbag for vampires who can do no better. "Y-You can hurt me! I deserve it, I d-deserve it for everything I did to you."

"Stop babbling, I swear to God," Clary snarls. "What happened to you since I escaped?"

Vincent swallows. A lot of things he doesn't want to repeat. A lot of crying, and screaming, and begging. Being alone. Not being alone enough.

"M-Mr Lyfelde…" is all he manages to say, and Clary hates it, hates it, because the only thing in the world that can make her feel bad for Vincent is a bastard named Ambrose Lyfelde.

She hides her face in her hands. "I hate you."

"I…" Vincent swallows. I hate you and me, too. "I know."

A short, tense silence ensues.

"When was the last time you ate?" Clary asks, eventually, her voice softer than she expected it to be.

"U-Um…" Vincent tries his hardest to remember. "Last… night."

"...I'll send Cai out to get you something to eat," she sighs. "Maybe your blood will smell nicer after that."

So he can still be useful. She's caring enough to give him food. He's trapped here, he accepted that reality as soon as he saw her, but he might be okay. He wants to die - who wouldn't want to die by now? - but he knows Clary wouldn't be merciful enough to give him a death that wasn't excruciatingly painful.

That's something. It's good enough. Vincent lets himself pass out again.

(not sure if i'll write/post more, but if i do, please let me know if you don't wanna be on au taglists!) taglist: @whumpsday @whumpycries @whumpwillow @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @whumpshaped @suspicious-whumping-egg @chiswhumpcorner @melancholy-in-the-morning @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @bloodinkandashes @whump-me-all-night-long @sickophantic @itsmyworld23 @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @annablogsposts @whumpdreamz @thebirdsofgay @sonder35

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What if Clary or Cai were talking to Vincent and unintentionally said or did something that triggered him into a panic attack?

what if.

content: accidental triggering, panic attack, dismissal of triggers

"N-No, no, please!" Vincent brings his knees to his chest and buries his face in them. "Don't, no, please..."

Cai is mentally running through a list of things they could have said. Well, it definitely wasn't anything he said, he was signing throughout the whole conversation. Did Clary say anything? Cai knows some of Vincent's triggers by now, but he's pretty sure neither of them said anything triggering.

Clary steps a little closer. "Vincent--"

Vincent only whimpers.

"Let me try," Cai signs.

Clary watches Cai kneel down and speak gently to Vincent, the same way he does when she's having a panic attack. Vincent mumbles incoherently for a few minutes, until it stops and he goes silent.

"Sorry," Vincent whispers. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Cai says. "What happened?"

Vincent doesn't say anything.

"It's okay if it was something small," Cai says.

"...Clary put her hair up," Vincent murmurs.

"What?" Clary frowns. "Are you serious?!"

"I know, I'm sorry!" Vincent whimpers, shrinking away.

"Clary, don't snap at him," Cai says sharply.

Clary clenches her fists. "Why are you defending him?"

"Because you're making him cry," Cai hisses.

Clary only notices it now that Cai has pointed it out, but Vincent is starting to shake with sobs. She huffs, and turns on her heel to leave.

"Not interested in talking," she says, when Cai comes back upstairs.

"I'm not talking," Cai signs.

"You're such an asshole," Clary mutters.

Cai sighs and sits down next to her. "Come on. If someone got mad at you for your triggers--"

"It's different!" Clary insists. "It's him!"

"Just accept that you triggered him and move on."

Cai never leaves much room for argument.

"...fine," Clary mutters. "I won't do it again."

taglist: @whumpsday @whumpycries @whumpwillow @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @whumpshaped @suspicious-whumping-egg @chiswhumpcorner @melancholy-in-the-morning @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @bloodinkandashes @whump-me-all-night-long @sickophantic @itsmyworld23 @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @annablogsposts @whumpdreamz @thebirdsofgay @sonder35

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how would clary, cai, and vincent react individually to me bringing over a happy retriever pup that just wants attention & pets??

"Heya, good boy!" Clary grins and immediately starts playing with the puppy. She's always loved dogs, and finds it easy to keep up with the energy of such an excitable little puppy.

Cai is polite but very awkwardly excuses himself from the situation. He is not the biggest fan of dogs. (He was bitten as a kid.)

Vincent is a little nervous - the last time he interacted with a dog was... a very long time ago. But he seems to relax when the puppy bounces into his lap and tries to get him to play. "Um... hello?"

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character info!

clary nikitin - she/her, twenty-six. when she was nineteen, she was kidnapped by vampire vincent maddox. after three years, he abandoned her in the woods, bleeding out. she can't remember why. but she survived. and now she's heard of a vampire matching vincent's description being captured, and all she wants to do make him afraid of her.

cai nikitin - he/him, twenty-six. he didn't get clary back for years after she was rescued. she was terrified of every little thing, and he started to hate vincent with every fiber of his being. his vocal chords are partially paralysed, and he struggles to speak. works as a BSL interpreter. clary's identical twin (she's trans).

vincent maddox - he/him, two-hundred and seven. he was lonely, more than anything. he didn't want to abandon her. he just didn't want to see her die. he's paid for it and then some, being tortured by vampire hunters, and clary taking him instead, even if he tortures him too, is a mercy.

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what would happen if Vincent heard either cai or clary having a nightmare - would he try and help like they helped him or just feel to guilty

depends on if it's cai or clary! though i can't imagine a situation in which they'd ever fall asleep in a place where he could freely get to them, assuming that's not a factor:

cai: vincent would nervously try to shake cai awake, and if that didn't work he'd just wait awkwardly and ask if there was anything he could do to help.

clary: vincent would just freeze, because he knows if she's having a nightmare it's almost definitely about him. if cai was around he'd go find cai but regardless of cai's presence he'd try to muzzle and cuff himself so that when she wakes up she doesn't have a reason to be afraid.

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Are Clary and Cai Russian? I just wondered cuz i thought Nikitin sounded Russian and also they are Very Blonde

yes they are! more specifically their mother is irish and their father is russian, though they actually got the blonde from their mother lol.