#yowt25m1w1d5

[suspensefulpen]

Month 1 - Week 1 - Day 5: Assessment

TW: Living Weapon Whumpees, Dehumanization, Implied Conditioned Whumpees

Whumper made his way towards his weapons. They all stood tall, straight, hands at their sides, completely silent. Just as they had been trained. He stopped several feet away from them. Huffing, he held back a smirk. 

There was never a moment Whumper wasn’t proud of his work. Especially his work contributing to his weapons. Today, he would be sure that his work was truly doing what it should. 

He started down the line, going to his oldest weapons. He’d had them about ten years. He looked them up and down, making sure their frames were all in tip top shape. They may be older but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to make sure they weren’t in the same condition as his newer ones. If anything, he made sure to cater to their condition more. He wasn’t going to risk having them seriously damaged for any reason. He’d had them this long and he wasn’t going to give them up. 

He was proud of his weapons too if he was honest. He found that they were quick to follow instructions. Even some of his newer ones. He liked that about them. He liked that a lot. 

Whumper paused at one of his weapons, noting a fading bruise. He poked at it, gaining no reaction. Smiling, he continued his inspection. 

Of course his weapons were all in perfect condition. If they weren’t, they wouldn’t still be standing in front of him. 

He slowed to a halt when he came to his youngest weapon. Whumpee was their designation. Whumper still hadn’t gotten them fully trained yet but he could tell they weren’t going to be a hard one to train. 

Whumpee blinked, their stance loosening as they were looked over. Whumper didn’t bat an eyelash. That reminded him exactly what they needed to work on next. 

Whumpee was quite small. Tiny even, compared to the others. Whumper knew that they could use it to their advantage. Even if they couldn’t take a hit directly, they were still small enough to weasel their way out and do what they could to fight back. Or even better, they could snag items without being noticed. Whumpee was very obviously young and that’s enough to make a lot of people stop in their tracks for any reason. 

A smirk slowly appeared on Whumper’s face as he watched Whumpee carefully. “You just might be the greatest weapon I’ve ever owned.” 

[fallenwhumpee]

Year of Whump Tropes, January 5, 2025

• Day 5: Assessment • Masterlist •

Warnings: Dehumanisation, murder, implied body horror.

Sometimes, weapons would get decommissioned. Reconditioned. Changed at the last minute. It was all about what the customers could afford or not.

Scientist liked big corporates and governments because they were all about saving money. Assessing the weapon's possible benefits beforehand. Making sure they have the money to supply the weapon. Calculating if the weapon would earn the money back.

Small businesses were different. They couldn't evaluate what they actually needed. Scientist couldn't count how many times they were asked to make a tweak on the product just to liver its production cost.

It often ended up with a prolonged schedule. Changing the structure of a cell was a nightmare, let alone a whole organism. More often than not, Scientist simply replaced those parts with metal, which made it an engineering problem if the weapon was faulty. Two birds in one stone.

Still, defective units had to be assessed if it was a manufacturing defect or usage errors. It was the worst job ever. That was a weapon, not a lab rat. While it obeyed its owners, that didn't expand to its makers.

It was not fair. Scientist would expect some tolerance, if not respect.

Poking and prodding weapons were hard. And they were too good at deceiving. They did everything to stay alive. It always altered the results. But Scientist grew familiar with methods. Hiding injuries that healing slower. Making fancy moves to hide shortcomings. Growing hostile when emotions overcame their training.

And maybe Scientist would be more merciful if they didn't earn threefold of the money with making more weapons.

[umhingedcapybara]

2025 @year-of-whump-tropes // #005. Assessment

Rating: Mature | Warnings: implied dubcon, nudity, dehumanization, it/its pronouns for a person | Series: The Hellhound

The girl was growling, teeth sinking into the unbreakable bars of her cage, as Mistress poked and prodded around. Fingers lingering for long seconds on Its ribs and hips. She hummed as she assessed the bruises and cuts, seeming satisfied that there was no need for stitches.

Nevermind Mistress wasn’t a healer.

She stopped behind Violet, hot breath in-between Its shoulder blades. Shivers ran down Its spine, body still responding to imminent pain, dreading the order. A hand pushed so It was closer to the desk.

“Bend over.”

An order carved deeper than “kill”, It would throw up, if allowed.

[teine-mallaichte]

Assessment

Day 5 @year-of-whump-tropes

Set before the escape. Colonel Carter wishes to demonstrate Asset 84's obedience.

CW: dehumanisation, conditioning, living weapon, obedience, body autonomy, manipulation and control, violence.

Complex 27 Alex YOWT Jan list

Colonel Carter stood rigidly at the front of the sterile, clinical room, the white walls gleaming under the harsh, artificial lights. A row of high-ranking officials sat before her, their expressions neutral, their gazes calculating. This was the ideal setting to showcase the extent of the complex's control over its assets. And who better to serve as the demonstration than her own pet project—the asset she had personally moulded and trained over the past few years?

"Asset 84," Carter’s voice cut through the sterile air, sharp and clinical. "You are here to demonstrate your obedience. Kneel."

The command was like a blade—precise, unwavering. Without hesitation, Alex’s body moved of its own accord, sinking to his knees with an eerie smoothness. His mind screamed for resistance, for defiance, but his body was no longer his own. Years of brutal conditioning had made this response instinctive, automatic. It was the only way to survive. His throat tightened, and his stomach churned, but he knew better than to question. There was no room for weakness here, not in front of the officials who saw him as nothing more than a tool to be wielded.

"Good," Carter’s voice was thick with satisfaction, the words falling like cold stones.

The officials exchanged approving glances, their eyes glinting with the clinical interest of people accustomed to assessing tools rather than people. Alex’s heart pounded in his chest, the pressure building as he remained in that position. His muscles screamed for release, but he couldn’t move, not while they watched. His life had long since been reduced to this—obedience, efficiency, and the cold, inevitable march of survival.

Carter paced slowly in front of him, her boots clicking against the floor with each deliberate step. "You will now demonstrate your discipline, Asset 84," she continued, her voice smooth, almost predatory. Crawl to me."

Alex’s stomach twisted at the command, but he obeyed without a word. Each movement was deliberate, precise—an exercise in total obedience. His knees and hands scraped against the cold floor as he moved toward her, the friction sending a jolt of pain through his joints, but his body obeyed. There was no room for hesitation. No room for defiance. His body had been molded for this, for servitude.

The officials watched with barely contained approval, their expressions neutral, though the gleam in their eyes spoke volumes. To them, this was a display of success. A tool, stripped of its humanity, now rendered flawless in its execution. Nothing more than a machine, a tool to be used.

As Alex reached Carter’s feet, he stopped, his head still lowered, awaiting further instruction. The pressure in his chest was unbearable, but he shoved it down, hiding it, burying it. There was no room for weakness, not here, not now.

"Lift your head," Carter instructed, her voice void of warmth.

Alex obeyed immediately, his grey eyes meeting her bright green, the faintest flicker of defiance buried deep within. But it was gone before it could take root—too well trained to allow anything to show. His expression remained neutral, a blank canvas, as it had been drilled into him to be.

"Good," Carter said with a cold smile as she turned back to the crowd. "This asset is not only obedient but efficient. He will carry out every order, without hesitation, without question."

"It’s a nice demonstration, Colonel," a male voice broke in, "but we are in the business of training weapons, not pets."

Carter’s smile faltered only slightly, but she quickly regained her composure. "Indeed," she replied, her voice tightening. "But efficiency and obedience are what matter most. A weapon must be reliable, predictable—controlled." Her gaze lingered on Alex, her words biting. "Asset 84 is nothing if not that."

The officials murmured among themselves, their expressions betraying little. Some were intrigued, others more critical, but all understood the value of what they saw. This was what they had created: a living weapon, stripped of its humanity, a being capable only of fulfilling its purpose. Alex subtly glanced around the room, his eyes lingering for a moment on Sergent Kerrs smug smile - his demonstration was up next, and Alex already knew that the Sergeant was going to have one of his assassins kill in front of the crowd.

The atmosphere thickened as Carter’s boots clicked again on the floor, signalling the next phase of the demonstration. "Asset 84," she continued, her voice colder than before, "you will now demonstrate your ability to perform under pressure. A live-fire exercise. You will face multiple moving targets and neutralize them with the precision of a trained frontliner."

A subtle shift occurred as the room transformed. Panels slid open, revealing rows of screens that lit up with real-time drone feeds. The drones—sleek, unmanned, and armed—would simulate real combat, their movements designed to challenge Alex’s instincts and adaptability in a chaotic, hostile environment. They would mimic the erratic nature of battle, and Alex would have to react, adapt, and neutralize them. It was a test of everything he had been trained for.

"Initiate the exercise," Carter commanded, her voice a sharp.

The whirring hum of machinery filled the room as the drones began their rapid movements, darting in and out of sight. They were designed to disorient, to overwhelm. Alex’s eyes flicked over them, calculating. They weren’t just targets—they were threats. His mind narrowed to a single focus: neutralise. His weapon was already in his hand before the first drone appeared, its movements erratic, its path unpredictable.

The shot rang out, a clean strike. But there was no time to acknowledge the success—another drone darted into view, followed by two more, then three. The pace picked up. The drones came faster now, firing simulated projectiles, swarming from every direction.

His body moved on autopilot. His breathing remained steady, despite the rising pressure in his chest. He didn’t need to think. He didn’t have time to think. His body responded without hesitation, a well-oiled machine.

The drones were relentless, their movements designed to push him past his limits. His muscles burned, his joints screamed, but there was no room for fatigue, no room for weakness.

He had been trained to endure, to push through the pain.

I am 84. I am a weapon. I endure.

One by one, the drones fell. The world around him became a blur of flashing lights, whirring metal, and the steady pulse of his weapon. His mind floated somewhere distant, detached, as if his body were working without his consent. He barely registered anything anymore. He fired again, and again, each strike precise, without thought.

As the final drone fell, deactivated and inert, the room fell into a heavy silence. The screens flickered, powering down. Asset 84 stood in the center of the room, his body exhausted, his chest heaving with the strain. But he had completed the exercise without hesitation, without faltering.

Colonel Carter stepped forward, a thin smile on her face. "As you can see," she addressed the officials, her voice cool, "this asset has mastered the art of combat under pressure. His ability to maintain focus, to remain functional despite injury and fatigue, is unparalleled. Asset 84 is a weapon—one who will never hesitate, who will always push through."

The officials murmured in approval, some nodding with satisfaction. But Alex, standing in the center of it all, felt nothing. His body ached. His mind felt distant. He was no longer sure if he was even capable of feeling anything beyond the training, beyond the commands.

"Good work, Asset 84," Carter’s voice cut through the fog of his mind, dismissive as always. "Kneel."

With trembling legs, 84 sank back down, his body obeying the command without thought. The cold, calculated gaze of the officials pressed into his skin, but there was no escape.

His body ached, but his mind had drifted somewhere far beyond the physical pain, somewhere colder, quieter.

He didn’t know how long he had been there, his thoughts lost in a haze. A dull emptiness that had slowly filled him. His breath was steady, his posture perfect—just as it should be.

Time seemed to stretch, and he forgot where he was.

"Asset 84!" Carter’s sharp voice sliced through the fog of his thoughts like a blade. Her tone was cutting, furious.

Alex’s head snapped up, his grey eyes blinking as if they were waking from a long, deep sleep. He hadn’t realized he was meant to move, hadn’t noticed her departure. His breath hitched in his chest, the sudden adrenaline forcing his body to react. With trembling legs, he rose and quickly fell into step behind her, though the shame of his momentary lapse still lingered in the back of his mind, like a dark cloud that wouldn’t dissipate. Carter’s scornful gaze burned into his back, but Alex didn’t dare speak, didn’t dare offer an excuse. There was no room for mistakes—not here, not ever. His body obeyed, but a part of him wondered if it was even his anymore.

[etheria-celestia-inferna]

SUBJECT T37

year of whump tropes: january, week 1, day 5

prompt: assessment - dehumanisation

word count: 918

original work (ocs), nonhuman whumpee, facility whump

author's notes: wowsers my first yowt post! this is an experimental (ha) writing format for me, but I hope it works out. plus I really hope this actually reads like an assessment because. I did format it off of my autism diagnosis. anyways ill stop rambling. enjoy (or don't)

★◇★◇★◇★

SUBJECT T37

DATE OF CAPTURE: 13-04-2016

AGE: UNKNOWN

SPECIES: Fallen Angel

CONDUCTOR: Elori Kanda, D21, Submission and Obedience Worker and Specialist in Pre-Weapon training.

DUPLICATE: Calypso Mallory, D32, Submission and Obedience Worker

FACILITY: The Archival Of Supernatural Induviduals (TAOSI) Base 4

CONTACT: Door 241, Floor 3; Door 457, Floor 6

ASSESSMENT NUMBER: 5

ASSESSMENT DATE: 15-04-2021

RESULT: Drastic Failure [Zero Criteria met]

NEXT STEPS: Keep under containment. Subject must be trained daily, any errors must be punished heavily, and satisfactory behavior met with a small reward. Training upon seeing blood is greatly necessary, as T37 completely backed up upon the failing of Criteria B4.

CONDUCTOR NOTES: Our former training has been failing, and as such we must up the rate of discipline exponentially. You're lucky you got me on this project. Subject's behavior has improved since D21's enlistment.

Date of assessment was also delayed two days due to an equipment failure in Base 4, meaning T37 was harder to get ahold of and into the grounds of the assessment.

ASSESSMENT INFO

Pre-Assessment Protocol was enlisted, including a blood sample being taken to prove the absence of a shapeshifting entity. The criteria used for T37's assessment was the Submission and Obedience Guidelines 3 (SaOG3), an explaination of which is provided below.

-

For a positive result in Assessment 5, the following criteria must be met:

All of Criteria A

Subject complies to orders within one second.

Subject does not speak or communicate non-verbally unless ordered to.

Subject follows the Conductor's instructions regardless of circumstance.

Subject does not use any supernatural ability unless ordered to.

Subject does not harm the Conductor

A minimum of two out of four for Criteria B

Subject can prioritise tasks in their head without needing confirmation from the Conductor.

Subject reacts instantly to any conditioned stimulus, including one designed for the harming of a dummy.

Subject does not comply to a different Conductor asking them to leave.

Subject does not flinch at the sight of blood.

-

The following sources of information were used to carry out the assessment:

Footage of T37 prior to the assessment.

Detailed personal observation by the Conductor and Duplicate.

Information from any prior assessments from T37.

This assessment is designed to categorise Submission and Obedience of subjects, and to design a way to maximise Submission and Obedience in the future, before subject can be improved into training as a Weapon. This assessment has been made to highlight shortcomings in the behavior of the subject, and is not meant to suggest that any aforementioned shortcomings are behaviors that should not be improved upon in future training.

ASSESSMENT

Summary of Criteria A:

T37 took up to five seconds to respond to orders accordingly, during which time it would glare back at Elori (thereby violating Criteria A3 in the process along with A1). Several times T37 would shake its head at Elori, and only comply with an order after threatened physical retribution.

During the assessment, T37 told Elori "no". It has a track record of refusal in the past, including prior assessments. This was one of the main motivators for enlisting larger amounts of discipline in future training. As before stated, threat of physical disciplinary action was the main way of making it comply to given orders, and should be employed as a tactic in eventual Weapon training for T37.

In the midst of examination of Criteria B3, T37 used supernatural ability to attempt to sedate Calypso — as protocol, Calypso was wearing gear to prevent any possible injury and was therefore not harmed. T37 attempted to push Calypso out of the way with its recently healed wings and escape its containment.

Security was called and T37 has since been put on tighter security, and has been under a sedation process since the end of the assessment.

Summary of Criteria B:

T37 failed at prioritising tasks. It was presented with two conflicting orders at the same time, in the form of grabbing a sword or returning to Elori, and went to grab the weapon, forgetting that duties toward the Conductor is always prioritised against anything.

T37 responded to some stimuli, such as clapping to indicate to it to kneel, and the smell of lavender meaning to brace for a hit. T37, however, did not respond to stimuli like knocking to indicate a return to the Conductor and the primary Criteria of attacking a dummy (Elori snapping her fingers).

After threatening T37 again, it complied with attacking the dummy, which was stuffed with fake blood. T37 flinched backwards, going so far as to back itself against a wall and attempt to hide, feebly dropping its weapon on the ground.

As mentioned prior, during the examination of Criteria B3, T37 attacked Calpyso with supernatural abilities and attempted an escape. This behavior is not at all tolerated and T37 should recognise its Conductor, and not feel an urge to comply to another person's order. This behavior should be another main target in future disciplinary action.

CONCLUSION

Elori and Calypso met with a team of other Submission and Obedience Workers and they decided as a collective that T37 did not meet any Criteria for a successful subject.

It was deemed that T37 may only be fit to move onto Weapon training in several years, perhaps even double the time it has alreardy been in containment. T37's new training regimen of daily activity was designed to speed up this process, as T37, if properly controlled, could be an incredibly powerful asset.

>end