I love Living Weapons interacting with each other. The shared understanding and camaraderie. The way they spar with each other, tease each other, feel safe around each other for no other reason than that they're just weapons. They don't have to fight but they can relax in a way they can't around their handlers.
Maybe it's the only time they feel safe enough to be touched. They just make these big cuddle piles wherever their handlers leave them, avoided like a nest of snakes until their handler comes to detangle them. Maybe it's the only time they allow themselves to be sluggish and needly, pulling away as slowly as possible with plenty of affection on the way out, knowing they won't get any more of this until they see their fellow weapons again
Living weapon whumpee is terrified of handler. Nobody can tell why, as living weapon has killed dozens of people at a time without breaking a sweat. Hero’s team manages to separate the pair and, during their interrogation of living weapon, find out just what handler did to them
Living Weapon had cornered their target. Their soon-to-be victim refused to go down easily, spitting and fighting their way through. They'd shown resistance earlier, but now that there was no escape, the pleas tumbled out pretty easily.
"Listen- Listen. Handler's pretty much treating you like a dog, aren't they? I can get you out. I can help you. So please, spare me!"
It almost makes the Weapon waver. Almost. Their finger on the trigger stays put. They've been offered all money, fame, drugs, all sorts of empty temptations to convince them to switch sides. But, they've never been offered help.
Even so, the idea of a life outside the one of a tool feels too good to be true. They've been chained to this life for so long that even in the far-fetched possibility that they're able to escape, they cannot even envision a shred of normalcy. They've come to terms with the fact that they're not good for anything else, anyway.
"Sorry, but I'm beyond saving. You can't help me."
Then they watched their target's terror morph into something different. The Weapon blinked. But God, did it remind them of Handler. Disgust. Some innate, guttural limbo of anger, hatred, and fear all mingled in together to form the expression the Weapon couldn't quite read into.
"Then go die all by yourself, damnit! Not everyone wants to stay a slave! Don't take us all down with you!"
By the time the words are spit out, they've already pulled the trigger. Nightmares didn't deprive the Weapon of sleep that night, the words did.
warnings⚠️: this plate of whump contains the following- dehumanization, shock collars, muzzles, conditioning, threatening to be put down, living weapon whump, and pet whump. Villain whumpee, hero whumper, handler whumper.
"I'm not an animal. no. I'm not a lapdog" is the repeated words kept in Villain's skull as he sulks kneeling in his corner of the 'room' provided to him by handler.
By whom he is very appreciative of, sure the room was just a closed off area in the basement. the cold, thick stench of mold and what is hopefully just a rat carcass rotting somewhere. But it was better than being tied out to the post in the training area.
The room was empty of all but a decently large dog sized bed- it was a straw woven basket with a thin foam material in it. in the front corner was a food and water bowl, beside it was a small bin of different squeaky toys those of which Villain told himself to never even touch.
It was humiliating enough as it is but he was better now. better than he was before. not perfect or anywhere near as good as hero wants him to be. but better.
villain dwelled on the thought of being perfect letting his mind hover in his head without existing before it was suddenly torn back into hypervigilance at the sound of the door.
Handler walked in with hero following after. neither ever looked at villain as anything close to human or even competent. Villain straitened his posture and kept his gaze down.
Handler made a click sound which through training villain knew meant 'stand' to which villain stood his knees ached and legs felt numb from the hours spent on them but he refused to dare try ease his muscles.
Hero gave a half nod half head tilt that meant they was pleased enough with his response.
Handler then gave a sharp loud whistle then followed by a longer lower whistle. a sharp loud whistle meant 'return to me' and a long low whistle that meant 'circle/asses situation' to which mindlessly Villain obeyed taking measured steps towards Handler and hero before stopping two feet away and circling like a predator.
Hero watched his every step as though he was measuring the exact inches away from each step. after about 10 minutes of different sound and word commands Villain was told to kneel.
Villain obeyed but he knew he was still in trouble for earlier that morning when handler was showing hero a knew command he taught villain which was a new attack that villain wasn't too good at, he had refused to obey. earning dog house once again as well as a fine beating.
which is why a pitiful whine escaped him when he saw hero pull out a muzzle and lead from his 'empty space power holder' and handed it to Handler. Handler took the muzzle up to Villains face who was now trying not to start hyperventilating.
The muzzle was always too tight, left his skin red and raw burning but they tried to hide their quickening breath which they can't keep up with.
Handler fixed the straps and clips before fastening the straps tight enough to dig in flesh and keep Villain's mouth shut. What got villain to panic worst was when a thick ring of metal was close to being placed to his neck.
muffled words ran out his forcibly closed mouth. flinching back away from Handlers hands body tensed to tight for his trembling to be visible.
"put it on or your better off being put down." Heroes voice held suck malice and power. Villain knew they weren't' bluffing but he tried. he tried to give a pleading look as his eyes welled up with tears and his body shook with his strangled sobs. Handler hooked their fingers on the straps of the muzzle dragging villain forwards before placing the metal collar on him.
"your so much better than before" the voice was sweat and reassuring but it did nothing to comfort villain's spiraling mind. Villain shook his head in response before glaring up at handler and hero before electricity racked through their bones. A muffled gut wrenching scream escaped him as he crumped lower to the floor heaving for air.
the world cut to black when the electricity didn't stop for minutes- felt like hours despite the known time.
Part 2
---ᓚᘏᗢ--ᓚᘏᗢ--ᓚᘏᗢ--ᓚᘏᗢ--ᓚᘏᗢ--ᓚᘏᗢ--ᓚᘏᗢ--ᓚᘏᗢ--ᓚᘏᗢ---
finally got around to writing this. from this prompt, this prompt in question. first time writing AND posting whump so... yeh might be a tad chopy and confusing.
OH and when it mentions an 'empty space power holder' I'm trying to describe a power that i kinda just made on the spot where they can sorta collect excess energy from others or living things an uses said energy to transfer it into a multi purpose materializing fabric in the dimensions of reality. in other words they're a power magnet and can hold objects in a space of energy that spaces out an objects molecules to distribute the mass and physical form of said object- invisible and weightless- essentially just dematerializing objects while keeping all the necessary molecules intact simply separated. is this making sense to anyone??? this will have at least2-3 parts so stay tooned.
characters: living weapon, handler, very minor whumpee
warnings: conditioning, drugging
1020 words
~
Living Weapon glares at Handler. He stalks toward her, gun in hand. He’s not sure what his plan is, his brain is foggy and everything in him is telling him to put the gun down and listen to Handler.
“What are you doing, Living Weapon?” she asks, backing away from him. “I told you-”
He cuts her off with a glare and puts his finger on the trigger.
He can hear Whumpee struggling on the ground behind him and he knows the gun is supposed to be pointed at them. It’s what Handler told him to do. It’s his job.
“Living Weapon!” Handler shouts, pulling his attention back to her. She takes a cautious step forward and reaches a hand into her pocket.
“Stop!” he snaps, pointing the gun at her chest. “Don’t even think about it.”
He sees her fingers wrap around something in her pocket and he takes a step forward, pressing the barrel of the gun against her chest. “Don’t.”
Slowly, Handler pulls her out of her pocket. She turns it over with the palm open to prove to Living Weapon that it’s empty.
She stares at him, brows furrowed and then looks at Whumpee behind him.
“What’s your plan?” she puffs out her chest and takes a step forward, pushing Living Weapon’s arm and the gun back. “Hmm? They’ve seen your face. There’s no way you’ll be allowed to see the light of day again. Even if you do let them go. The things you did to them…”
She cuts herself off and pushes Living Weapon’s arm down until the gun points at the ground. She leans in close to him and whispers in his ear, “They’ll never forgive you.”
Whumpee shouts something through the gag and LIving Weapon looks over his shoulder.
They catch his eye and shake their head. Suddenly, their eyes go wide and Whumpee screams at him.
But they’re too late. Handler jams a syringe into Living Weapon’s thigh and pulls the gun from his hand.
LIving Weapon tries to pull it back from her, to shoot her before his brain goes fuzzy and he has to obey her, but she keeps a tight grip on it. He blinks slowly and turns to Whumpee.
He falls to his knees and pulls at their binds until they unravel. He pulls them to their feet and shoves them away, “Run!”
Whumpee stumbles over their own feet, but manages to sprint out of the alleyway and onto the street. Living Weapon sees them look over their shoulder before turning and running. He wants to shout at them to get help, find someone to save him and get him away from Handler. But the fog is too strong and Handler’s tracing over his arm with her fingers.
He looks at her and blinks slowly.
She shakes her head and digs her nails into his arm, pulling him down, “You’re in trouble.”
He shakes his head and falls to his knees in front of her. His hands lay flat on the ground in front of her and he looks up at her with a vacant stare.
“Punish me then.” he says, the last of his awareness still fighting inside him.
Handler blinks slowly and pulls Living Weapon to his feet. She inhales deeply and links her arm with his.
“Let’s go home.”
~
Living Weapon blinks awake and turns over on his side. He stares past the bars of his cell and exhales sharply when he sees Handler.
She pushes herself up from the couch across the room and walks up to the bars of the cell.
“Do you know what you’ve done?” she spits. “Letting Whumpee go was one of the stupidest things you’ve ever done. Think of everything they could have done…” she cuts herself off and shakes her head and looks at him. “You’ve nothing to say to me?”
He blinks wearily and sits up on the cot. “What would you have me do? I can’t get them back for you.”
“Right about that.” She snaps. “I should punish you for letting them go. Make you…I don’t know.” she sighs heavily and runs a hand over her face. “I don’t want to be mad at you for this, Living Weapon. I need you to make it easy to forgive you.”
“How do I do that?” He asks, voice barely above a whisper.
She smiles cruelly and takes a step away from the bars of the cell. “You need to beg.”
Living Weapon recoils. “I won’t.”
“You will…” Handler taunts, reaching her hand into her pocket once again. She pulls out another syringe and waves it in Living Weapon’s face…”Whether you want to or not.”
Staring at the syringe, Living Weapon stands up from the cot and falls to his knees. He crawls to the bars of the cell and leans his forehead against it.
“I’m so sorry.” he says, voice already breaking. He stares at the syringe in Handler’s hand and reaches out through the bars.
She takes his hand with her free one and squeezes it tightly. “Not enough.”
With his other hand, he wraps her hand in his and pulls it close to his face.
“Please forgive me. I wasn’t thinking about what I was doing. I had a bad moment and it will never happen again.” tears stream down his face as he stares at the syringe in her hand. She twirls it between her fingers like a middle schooler’s pencil as he begs.
“I know I can never make it up to you and for that I’m so sorry. I blew what was likely our only chance capturing Whumpee and now they’ll never be able to work for you. I only ask that you don’t kill me for my misdeed.” he presses his forehead against her hand and sniffles, “Please forgive me.”
Handler smiles and puts the syringe on the side table next to her. She pulls Living Weapon to his feet and holds his hands through the bars. “Of course I forgive you.”
She pulls him close and wraps her arms around him, “Just don’t let it happen again.”
Weapon panics whenever it shifts into its armoured form outside of combat.
It’s been trained.
It knows better.
Handlers used different tools for its armoured form: armour piercing beak-sticks and painful sounds and high pressure water. And shocks. Shocks still work when it’s like that, but shocks aren’t enough. The normal tools aren’t enough.
Caretaker has to slowly get it to trust its armoured form again. Gives it permission to shift when it spooks (once it’s already shifted) and rewards it when it does.
Drapes a blanket over it when it curls up behind an armoured shell. Offers it snacks when it comes out.
Makes note of its triggers, especially when they’re weapons or random objects.
Warns it before ey pick up sticklike objects and jump ropes.
"I completed the mission! I did what you asked me to! What more do you want from me!?" + handler/whumper
1. “You did it wrong, Whumpee. You were late, and that nearly cost you victory. So now, I’ll train your skills in watching your step and getting up when you fall. Any objections?”
2. “I wanted to congratulate you, but seeing as you’ve developed an attitude...”
3. “Must I repeat myself? Kneel.”
4. “Always so mouthy...”
5. “You did not. Not the way you were intended to.”
6. “Silence. Do not question me. Do not speak back. You are not the same ‘Prodigy’ as you were before this promotion, you are a tool.”
how to play
full credits to @/seth-whumps for the idea!! avoiding actually mentioning them to avoid spamming notifs, but they're linked
