Welcome to Medwhump May 2025! This challenge was a success last year so I'm back here again for round 2!
RULES:
No AI-generated content
For completionists, you must fill in a prompt for all 31 days, whether this is the daily prompt or one of the alt prompts. The timeframe for completion doesn't matter (i.e whether you fill all 31 prompts in one day, or take a few months)
If you'd like your work to be featured on this page, please tag this account, @medwhumpmay , and use the tag 'medwhumpmay2025'
When tagging, please use the appropriate whump tag e.g 'seizure whump' instead of just 'seizures'. This avoids clogging important tags with whump content.
Have fun!
If you need any clarification, please feel free to send in an ask or reply to this post and I'll do my best to get back to you.
Thanks to everybody who submitted their prompts, and please reblog for reach!
Unfortunately, I'm not sure whether the event is going to run this year. I'm incredibly busy and haven't received as many prompt submissions as I need. I might be able to rustle up something in the next few days, but at this point I'm not sure, sorry
“I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine,” Whumpee repeated, over and over, like a magic spell that would make them all okay. No, they were okay. They stared at their face in the mirror, a face that looked like a panicked rabbit about to be swept up by a hawk.
A face that was free of bruises or lesions. A face that had filled its cheeks out with three meals a day. A face attached to a body that wasn’t in pain. All smack in the middle of a normal bathroom.
“I’m fine,” the mouth in the mirror repeated, though the eyes were leaking tears now. Whumpee sat on the lid of the toilet, huddled up, wrapped their arms around their legs, and buried their face in their knees. “I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine.”
So why did they still feel this way? Why did it always feel like they were in danger? Why were they so afraid all the time? It wasn’t supposed to be this way. They were supposed to be out and fine. So why did it feel like they had to convince themself that was the case?
Why did it feel like they were lying when they did?
Just then, Caretaker scratched insistently at the door.
Whumpee reached to open it, and in she pranced. Despite having no words, she was a beyond-effective communicator, and it only took one pointed look for Whumpee to lower their legs for her to rub against. Her little head bonked against their shin, purring filling the tearful silence at the contact.
“Hey, kitty,” Whumpee sniffled, reaching down to pet her. She nuzzled into their hand, utterly oblivious to all their worries.
content: self-surgery, self-harm, medical whump, gore
sorry i fell off medwhump may right at the end there, gonna finish it for sure this week
-
Which was better, quick breaths or deep breaths? Which would help them get through it easier, faster? Right now, holding the razor blade in a hand that wouldn’t stop shaking, Whumpee could only manage the quick ones, so they’d just have to go with that.
A quick prayer that it’d work. A quick prayer that they wouldn’t get caught. A quick prayer that they wouldn’t bleed themself to death. A quick prayer that they wouldn’t fuck up their spinal cord. A quick prayer that they wouldn’t get an infection from the used razor they’d fished out of Whumper’s trash can and cleaned with hand soap. A quick prayer that they’d be a good enough actor to sell still having it in after they’d taken it out.
Whumpee squeezed their eyes shut, then forced them open again, look right into the bathroom mirror. They needed to see.
Not that they could really see the back of their head that well, even when turned to the side. If it weren’t for the shower on full blast right next to them, Whumpee was sure they’d hear their heart pounding right out of their chest.
“One, two, three,” they mouthed silently.
In went the razor blade. Whumpee grit their teeth around the washcloth in their mouth, holding back every sound as they sliced open the back of their scalp, right above the neck. Not a peep, Whumper had told them, time and time again. Her training was good for something after all.
They dropped the bloody blade into the sink, bringing their (clean, clean, gotta be clean by now) fingers back and digging into the wound. Whumpee couldn’t make the incision where the chip actually was. Too visible. They had to do it high up, so it could hide in their hair, and reach. Their teeth hurt even through the washcloth, their jaw locked all the way up with how hard they bit. Still, not a peep.
The eyes weren’t doing anything. Whumpee closed them, trying to focus on the feeling in their fingers instead of the agony of their split skin. It was the hardest thing they’d ever done, impossible. Every cell in their body screamed at them to stop, just stop, the way they wanted to scream at Whumper.
They didn’t. They felt around, bile working its way into their mouth and then back down, until they were sure they’d gotten it. A hard little box that certainly didn’t feel like a body part. The terrible thing that let Whumper flood their whole nervous system with pain at the touch of a button.
Whumpee yanked.
They buckled to their knees, only the luck of the breath being stolen from their lungs keeping them from succumbing to a giveaway shout. They hit the tile hard, seizing, more and more blood spilling from the wound each time their head hit the floor.
“Whumpee? Everything alright in there?” came Whumper’s muffled voice.
They couldn’t answer. They had to answer. Just as they heard Whumper start to turn the knob, they managed to choke out an, “I’m f-fine, I’m fine! Just fell!”
“I’ll need to check you over when you’re out,” she called back. “No more than five minutes. You’ve been in there long enough.”
“Sure!” The seizing was subsiding–only lasted a minute, probably the luckiest they’d ever get–and Whumpee pushed themself to their unsteady feet.
The chip laid on the tile floor in a scattered puddle of blood. They were still bleeding profusely out of the back of their head. They couldn’t see out of one eye. In fact, they couldn’t feel that whole side of their face. The bloody razor laid in the sink. They still hadn’t showered–the thing they’d been ostensibly doing the whole time they were in here.
ok um john Truman carter iii whump fic! For funsies.
Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65490202
Summary:
Carter slumped into a chair in the break room, pinching the bridge of his nose. Today sucked. His head hurt like hell, he felt like a dead man walking, and half the clinic patients seemed inclined to infect everyone with the seasonal plague. He’d had a case of pediatric drowning, he’d cracked an old man’s ribs before finding a DNR, and he’d forgotten to bring a coat, which meant he’d arrived soaked, and that he would be walking home in his lab coat. Maybe a car would mistake him for snow and run him over.
Or
Carter forgets that people care about him. He gets reminded again.
me being me I’m going medwhump may only after may is over
@may-lancholy alt. 3 - Drenched in something awful
@whumpay alt. 2 - Empathetic Healing
Randall sobbed again, broken and furious and full of fear. Hot tears fell down through his red cheeks like a river. His body jerked, and he nearly fell off the bed — she caught him in time. Let him cry in her arms. He was still her little baby, after all. “Make it stop,” he begged, gasping for more air. “Please—”
He didn’t say anything after that. Just curled into her warm hug, exhausted and shaking. And she stayed like that all night, cradling what little strength he had left.
There is no movement, no sound except the constant lament of the bent old woman he shoved away to reach his patient. It's a sound he's heard often after bad news has been delivered.
Too early for that, Benton thinks in a panic, snapping at her to be quiet and pressing his ear to Carter's chest. You're okay, aren't you? Of course you are. You're alright, man. You're alright.
What I managed to complete for @medwhumpmay and @whumpay.
The majority of prompt fills are in the Call of Duty: Modern Warfare fandom. Day 4 is written in the NBC Hannibal fandom. Under the cut.
Day 1: Change of plans
Prompt used: medwhump may; scar reveal
Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare
Rating:
Warning: None
Description: A discovery ruins a trip.
Day 2: Sleep Deprived
Prompts used: Whumay: Hostage situation, Medwhumpmay: sleep deprivation
Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare
Rating: G
Warning: None
Description: Jamie is held hostage and unable to sleep.
Day 3: Putting The Others Before Herself
Prompts used: Whumpay: buried alive, Medwhump May: alt 16; broken bones
Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare
Rating: G
Warning: None
Description: Jamie is buried under a building after saving the team.
Day 4: Unspoken Struggles
Prompts used: Whumpay: Toxic relationship
Medwhump May: overnight visit
Fandom: NBC Hannibal
Rating: G
Warning: None
Description: Hannibal and Will go to Jamie's dimension for the night. See Jamie's toxic family.
Day 5: What Only He Can See
Prompts used: Whumpay: incapable of disobeying
Medwhump May: hallucinations
Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare
Rating: T
Warning: Schizophrenia
Description: A soldier's undiagnosed schizophrenia.
Day 6: Mysterious Ally
Prompts used: Whumpmay: muzzled
Medwhump May: sedatives
Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warefare
Rating: G
Warning: None
Description: Jamie is captured after helping Task Force 141. She is believed to be a threat with her powers.
Day 7: A Risk Worth Taking
Prompts used: Whumpmay: psychic link
Medwhump May: alt 12; "Talk to me."
Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare
Rating: G
Warning: None
Description: Price is kidnapped and brainwashed. Jamie has an idea to help him, but it's risky.
Day 8.1: Not What They Expected
Prompt used: Whumpay: immortal
Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare
Rating: G
Warning: None
Description: TF 141 is arguing with Jamie about acting like she's immortal. They find out the truth.
Day 8.2: Unexpected Turn of Events
Prompt used: Medwhump May: Feeding tube
Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare
Rating: G
Warning: None
Description: Jamie is very sick and needs a feeding tube.
Day 9: Violent Bullying
Prompts used: Whumpay: alt 3; Gosspip/ bullying
Mediwhump May: infection/ sepsis
Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare
Rating: G
Warning: None
Description: Bullying that turns violent
Author: Autobot2001
Genre: Fanfiction
Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare
Rating: G
Warning: Nine
Pairing: None
Description: Bullying that turns violent
Day 9;
@whumpay: alt 3; Gosspip/ bullying
@medwhumpmay: infection/ sepsis
Ao3 or under the cut
Recently, Jamie faced bullying from new recruits. Unknown to them, Jamie is used to being bullied. Though it’s been years, she can ignore it. This action angers the two recruits.
As Jamie walks down the hall, the two recruits tackle her to the ground.
“We don’t like that you’re ignoring our bullying,” one recruit says.
The two attack her.
“Break it up!” Price yells, but before the two men can be pulled off Jamie, one of them stabs Jamie. “Shit, Jamie!”
Ghost and Soap pull the two men away from Jamie. Price examines the stab wound on her abdomen. It’s not deep. After telling Ghost and Soap to take the two recruits off Jamie, Price takes her to the medbay.
Once the medic tends to the stab wound, Price goes to deal with the recruits.
“Why are you defending the weak woman?” One recruit asks.
“You realize I can take that as sexual harassment and sexism?” Price asks. “Two things we don’t tolerate. I am warning you two. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir,” they both reply.
“Now get out of my sight.”
Two days pass. Jamie feels unwell. She lays in bed, sleeping. Price walks into her quarters, concerned that she’s not sick with a cold. Jamie feels warm to the touch. Price checks her healing wound.
“Shit,” he mutters. “Jamie, wake up.” Jamie wakes up. “We’re going to the medbay.”
Price lifts Jamie and carries her out of her quarters.
An hour later, Price learns that Jamie’s stab wound is infected. She’s given an injection of antibiotics and a bottle of antibiotics tablets for two weeks. Jamie isn’t happy about her two-week absence from duty. Price takes Jamie back to her quarters.
“Do I need to stay here to ensure you’re resting?” Price jokes.
He sees how tired Jamie is. For now, she’ll rest, but Price suspects that in a few days, she’ll feel well and refuse to rest.
“I hear you, dumbass,” Whumpee said weakly. They barely had the strength to keep their hand on the wound. If Caretaker wasn’t holding it there, it would’ve just fell down on the ground. “I’m not dead yet.”
“Good. Stay with me, okay? Just stay with me. Ambulance is on the way. We’ll fix this.”
Whumpee chuckled and blood bubbled up into their mouth. They turned to the side and spat it out. When they turned back, Caretaker was pale as the wall. “What? You don’t have to look like that just because I’m gonna die.”
“You’re not gonna die.”
“I don’t want to spend my last few minutes on this earth arguing about this. Can’t you tell me a joke or something? Or a story—”
“Why are you giving up?” Caretaker asked, their hand that held Whumpee’s to the wound tensing up. “Why are you giving up so easily? Don’t you want to live?”
“Caretaker…”
“Don’t. Don’t condescend me because I want you to live. We can fix this. Once the ambulance comes—”
“There’s no ambulance. The ambulance doesn’t come to this part of town.”
“They told me they’d be here! We just need to hold on a little longer!”
“You told me that ten minutes ago. There’s no ambulance. They just lied.”
Caretaker scoffed. “Like you’d know.”
“So you won’t tell me a good joke?”
“For fuck’s sake, Whumpee, no, I won’t. Stop being so— cynical and— and calm, and—”
Whumpee sighed. “Do you have a cigarette? I want to smoke one last time.”
Caretaker reached a bloody hand into their pocket and pulled out a box, putting a cigarette in Whumpee’s mouth and lighting it for them. “This is not your last time, you hear me?” Their voice was breaking now, tears gathering in their eyes. “It’s not. And I’m tired of you saying this sort of nonsense. If the ambulance won’t come, I’ll carry you to the hospital.”
“You couldn’t carry a good-sized squirrel.”
“I can carry you. I’ll just need you to put pressure on the wound yourself.”
“I can’t.”
Caretaker looked down at it, blood seeping through both of their fingers. It was bad. There was a whole puddle under them. “You’ll have to.”
“Caretaker. It’s done. I’m as good as gone. Can we just… stop? Can we just have a nice few minutes?”
It was the first time Whumpee actually sounded defeated, and frankly, a little scared. It was so jarring that Caretaker took a moment to process it. “You can’t die,” they said in a small voice. “You can’t. You really— there’s no way—”
“I’m going to die. It’s not up to you or me. It’s not your fault. Let’s just… let’s just say our goodbyes.”
“I’m not saying any goodbyes—”
“Caretaker.”
“I’m not!” they snapped, tears trickling down their cheeks. “I want you to live, why is that so hard to understand?”
“I understand. I’m just not gonna. I’m not gonna live. I’m sorry. I really am.”
Caretaker tried to wipe their eyes, smearing Whumpee’s blood all over their face. “I can’t… I can’t say goodbye… I can’t… I’m so sorry, Whumpee… I don’t know what to do, I just— I just want you to be okay…”
“Hey.” Whumpee raised their free hand, clearly struggling, and cupped Caretaker’s cheek. When they smiled, their teeth were bloody. “Don’t be a dumbass, okay? Just say—” They winced. “Just say you love me, or whatever corny shit you’re thinking of right now. I know you, you’re absolutely thinking about this stuff right now.”
“Of course I’m thinking about it. I… I can’t lose you, Whumpee, please—”
“I love you, too.” They let their hand drop back down. The lit cigarette fell from their mouth onto the ground. “You know, it hurts when you press on it. I think you can let up now. I just want it to be as painless as possible.”
“Don’t,” Caretaker sobbed. “Don’t do this.”
Whumpee closed their eyes, a few tears falling down their cheeks. “I’m telling you, you’re gonna regret this moment if you don’t say your goodbyes now.”
“How could I? How could I say goodbye to you?”
“You could at least try.”
Caretaker slowly took their hand away from Whumpee’s wound. They lifted Whumpee’s bloody hand and kissed it. “I can’t. I’m so sorry. I can’t say goodbye. I’m not ready to let you go.”
Whumpee chuckled again. “Of course you’re not. Well…” They tried to take a deep breath, but they could only wheeze. “Maybe it’s my fault for expecting more from you.”
“Are you really going to die insulting me?”
“You’re not giving me a better path.”
“Please, stay. Stay just a minute longer. Just one minute.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“Please.” Whumpee didn’t respond. Their body went awfully tense in Caretaker’s lap before relaxing. “Whumpee?” Silence. “Whumpee…?” Caretaker closed their eyes, now crying openly. They placed a hand on Whumpee’s chest, and it was just as they feared. No heartbeat.
They were gone.
“I’m sorry,” they cried. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could’ve done something. I wish— I wish— I wish you would come back. Please. Please, don’t leave me. Please, Whumpee…” There were no words to bring them back, and they knew it. “Please…”
They stayed like that, cradling Whumpee and sobbing for a good half an hour. The ambulance never arrived. The cigarette stopped burning. Whumpee stopped bleeding.
“Goodbye,” they whispered, broken beyond measure. “I love you. I love you so, so much.”
Author: Autobot2001
Genre: Fanfiction
Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare
Rating: G
Warning: None
Pairing: None
Description: Jamie is very sick and needs a feeding tube.
Day 8.2;
@medwhumpmay: Feeding tube
Ao3 or under the cut
Everyone thought Jamie had a cold. Other than eating breakfast and dinner, Jamie would be asleep in her quarters. On day four of the cold, Jamie’s absence at breakfast alarms Gaz, Ghost, Price, and Soap.
Ghost and Price enter Jamie’s quarters. Despite Jamie sleeping, her paleness concerns the two men.
“She’s burning up,” Price worries. “We should take her to the medbay.”
With care, Price lifts Jamie and carries her out of her quarters.
Price lays Jamie on a bed in the medbay. Jamie is awake as a medic gets samples to test for the flu and pneumonia. She falls asleep soon after the medic leaves.
The medic enters the room a half-hour later.
“She has the flu, which has turned into pneumonia,” the medic explains. “Unusual, particularly for a healthy individual. I advise she be admitted.”
They woke Jamie to give her antibiotics. The medic knows Jamie won’t want to eat, so the medic, Ghost, and Price leave Jamie to rest.
Jamie has no appetite to eat dinner. The medic starts an infusion of IV fluids. They tell Price they might have to put in a nasogastric tube. Price sits by the bed, worried about Jamie as he watches her sleep. Because this is rare, he asks the medic to test Jamie for undiagnosed conditions that would cause a weak immune system.
Jamie doesn’t want to eat breakfast. The thought of food makes her throw up. Price does his best to comfort her as the medic puts the nasogastric tube in her nose. Once Jamie is fed and asleep, Gaz, Ghost, and Soap enter the room.
“Damn, I can’t believe how sick she is,” Soap says.
“Recovery will take a few weeks,” the medic says.
“She will not like that,” Gaz comments.
“She doesn’t like being off duty for a few weeks,” Ghost adds. “This is going to be fun.”
“It’s still better than this,” Soap says.
The other men agree. They hope Jamie is well enough to be discharged from the medbay soon
Author: Autobot2001
Genre: Fanfiction
Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare
Rating: G
Warning: None
Pairing: none
Description: Price is kidnapped and brainwashed. Jamie has an idea to help him, but it's risky.
Day 7;
@whumpay: psychic link
@medwhumpmay alt 12; "Talk to me."
Ao3 or under the cut
The last mission failed. The enemy captured Price two months ago, hoping the team would fall apart without Price. Jamie acted as temporary captain, but this role wasn't formally recognized. Jamie also planned and led Price's rescue.
Twenty-four hours later, the team is back at the base with their captain, but it's not time to celebrate. The enemy brainwashed Price, making him believe his team is the enemy. He tries to fight them.
"Talk to me, Price," Jamie pleads.
The man continues to try to fight Gaz and Ghost. Gaz and Ghost restrain Price in a cell.
"I can't believe what just put our captain in a cell,* Gaz sighs as the four sit in the commons room.
"How can we help him?" Soap asks.
"I have an idea," Jamie says. "I know of a technique to remove the memories of his torturing and repair any memories."
"I can't even argue about that because you already have proven that a lot of science fiction stuff is real," Soap says.
"But what are the risks?" Gaz asks.
The four men worry about the risks Jamie mentions.
"… it's risky, but it's a way to get our captain back," Jamie finishes.
Gaz, Ghost, and Soap don't like this plan, but it's the only opinion. They let Jamie do her plan.
Jamie walks into the cell. Price sits on the bed, unable to lunge toward her as Jamie walks closer to him. Jamie hates his restraints and the tape over his mouth. It's an improvement compared to a gag. She puts a hand on Price’s head and shoulder. She closes her eyes and concentrates on getting into Price’s mind while he's trying to get away from her.
Jamie sees the memories of what Price experienced for a month. She watches a memory. Horrified at what she's watching. She has witnessed plenty and erases memories of torture while restoring lost memories of the team.
As she restores the memories, Jamie feels herself getting exhausted. Once the technique is done, Jamie falls to the floor, unconscious.
"Jamie!" Price yells, but it's muffled.
Price tries to break free of the restraints as the others enter the room. Ghost frees Price.
Price lowers himself to the floor and pulls Jamie onto his lap.
"Wake up, Jamie," he pleads.
The others mirror Price’s worry as he feels for Jamie's pulse. Though relieved by Jamie's steady pulse, he still worries about her unconsciousness. The four men question if they should take Jamie to the medbay or her quarters to rest. Gaz, Ghost, and Soap, mindful of the technique's dangers, dread that Jamie will remain unconscious for days.
Author: Autobot2001
Genre: Fasnfiction
Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare
Rating G
Warning: None
Pairing: None
Description: Jamie is captured after helping Task Force 141. She is believed to be a threat with her powers.
Day 6;
@whumpay: muzzled
@medwhumpmay: sedatives
Ao3 or under the cut
Jamie knew about Task Force 141. While in N.E.S.T., she wanted to be part of 141. Using her powers, she monitored them. One day, she sensed they were in trouble and teleported to them.
“I have —” Makarov smiles until he sees someone appear. “Who the hell are you?!”
Makarov’s soldiers aim their guns at Jamie. Jamie, remaining silent, disarmed the soldiers with her metalbending abilities and destroyed the guns. She takes down the soldiers, but Makarov retreats.
“We know nothing about her, and considering her sudden entry, I doubt she’ll talk to us,” Ghost argues. “We can’t let her go.”
Gaz and Soap agree. Without Price’s approval, Gaz and Soap tackle Jamie, and Ghost injects a sedative. Jamie is asleep within five minutes.
“You realize this could have hindered her trust in us?” Price argues.
“She should have known that we wouldn’t trust her. Let’s go,” Ghost says.
The four men go to the safehouse and tie Jamie to a chair.
While waiting for Jamie to awaken, they search her person for anything. Photos and IDs prompt questions concerning her identity.
“All this must be fake,” Ghost argues.
The others watch Ghost put a muzzle on Jamie.
“What the hell?” Gaz asks.
“Are you serious, Ghost? What powers could she have that require using her mouth?” Price asks.
“Who knows, but I’m not taking any chances,” Ghost argues.
Jamie awakens an hour later.
“It’s about time,” Ghost says.
Jamie realizes that she’s tied to a chair and wearing a muzzle. She cannot speak.
“Consider this better than a gag,” Ghost says. “But I don’t trust you,u don’t have powers that can hurt us.”
“Nice job, Ghost, she can’t speak,” Soap says sarcastically. “And how will this help her prove we can trust her?”
Annoyed, Ghost removes the muzzle. He shows Jamie the two IDs the men found on her and the photos. They can’t believe what Jamie is telling them.
“We can’t argue that she’s making it up when we watched her use some of her powers,” Price says. “As for the claim of being part of N.E.S.T. and the US F.B.I., that will be difficult.”
Price’s decision to keep Jamie, without imprisonment, astonished Ghost. Everyone else agrees that Jamie isn’t a threat. Jamie knows she must work hard to earn Ghost’s trust until the four men verify her statement.
