Oh I had so many ideas for this one, so I hope you like what I came up with! It’s a bit of a different kind of whump, but I hope it’s still good :3
CW//Dehumanization, baby talk, medical settings, straightjackets, medical malpractice
Villain hardly got to see the outside of the building.
Nearly as soon as the vehicle sped up to its front, they were trundled from its interior, feet stumbling to asphalt for a moment before the privilege of walking was taken from them-- their body swept up in a pair of strong arms.
They hated being carried. No, there was not enough strength in that word. They detested it. Loathed it. Those weren’t enough either. No, they felt that, if they were to encapsulate their sheer fury at the situation with language, they would need to begin digging in dictionaries of obscure Kanji.
But there was no time for that, because they were being carried right now.
Usually, Villain would have struggled. Writhed and squirmed until they were dropped to the floor. Or thrown. Whichever happened quicker.
Yet, unfortunately, at that very moment, there was no time for that either. No. At the moment, there were much more acutely focused on an emotion other than rage. One that went by the name of terror.
Every villain knew of the Metropolis Rehabilitation Center for Extraordinary Cases. After all, they were the extraordinary cases.
But no one ever thought they would see the thing in person. Much less be carried into it by Hero, of all the noble, goody two shoed assholes.
It was a gargantuan structure-- towering blocks of concrete, stacked upon each other, and covered with shimmering white tile, bright enough to blind anyone who dared to look upon it directly. There was one thing worse than that tile, surface dancing like freshly fallen snow.
The only thing worse than the Center’s exterior was its front door. The pair of them, in fact, glass and steel. That fact was terrifying in and of itself. Being close enough to those doors to examine them was a fate no villain expected to ever have to face.
The second time that Villain began to thrash, there was no fury in it. Nothing was locked around their body, not a chain or cuff in sight, but Hero’s grip was more than enough to turn the menace of the city into the much larger equivalent of a kitten, held by the scruff of its neck.
“Let me go! I don’t want to go!” Their thoughts flew from their mouth as freely as their panicked voice. “T-The prison! Wouldn’t that be much better?”
The villain shivered at the soft voice, a second quiver shaking their spine when a hand stroked its way through their sweat-soaked hair.
“They’ll love you here.” Hero’s voice curled, coaxing a frightened dog. “I’m sure you’re be their new favorite.”
There wasn’t an ounce of perceptible mockery in the tone. As though a hero genuinely gave the slightest shit. As if they weren’t taking them to the place half-drunken villains told horror stories about, only to be accused of fabrication. ‘It can’t possibly be that bad.’
But everyone knew, everyone knew full well, that there was no falsehood in those stories.
They didn’t want to be a favorite. They were a villain! Even as they approached the double doors, Villain could not help but fantasize about the 10 foot high walls of the Metropolis Villainous Correctional Facility, topped with their electrified barbed wire.
It would be horrible, certainly, but it wouldn’t be the Center!
Yet, with a tinny bell, the hellish building’s entrance swung open.
Inside, the Metropolis Rehabilitation Center for Extraordinary Cases smelled like flowers. The particular scent was unrecognizable-- neither rose nor marigold, lavender or coral-bell. Yet, the aroma was overwhelming.
Villain’s struggling turned to thrashing.
The walls were blue. A light, baby blue, with a sickeningly joyful air about it. Abstract paintings and plaques hung along hallways and lobby walls, marked by tacky statements of motivation.
‘Mistakes are proof that you are trying.’
The captive villain felt sick. Their straining was useless, not gaining them an inch of freedom even as it cost them feet of dignity. Not that they expected to keep hold of that for long.
The lobby itself was bright, disgustingly colorful. The walls were lined with chairs painted in blinding technicolor, while the front desk itself danced with decals of butterflies and birds.
“Let me go!” Another screech tore itself from their throat.
A receptionist, lab-coat the color of a summer sunflower, looked up with a warm smile.
“I see our newest friend is here.” They chirped. “I’ll call up our welcoming party.”
From one of various, straight hallways, clattering footsteps sounded. Two lab coats, dyed in that same sickening, jaundiced color, ran forward at a jog. Shame forgotten, Villain buried their face in Hero’s chest. Anything to not have to see the doctors. Anything.
“Oh, what a cutie!” One of the lab coats exclaimed. “Aren’t they a sweetheart?”
“Oh, Villain, you’re going to have so much fun here.” A second voice smiled.
“I’m sure they are.” Hero’s hand stroked once more through their hair, though it did nothing to aid their incessant trembling. “Come on, bud, there’s no reason to be scared.”
Three voices turned to roaring laughter.
“Come on, they’ve even brought you something.”
“Yeah.” One of the doctors chirped. “It’s a nice jacket, to keep you warm. We don’t want you getting cold.” Their tone switched on its head, from high-pitched to clinical, as they whispered: “Put them down, please.”
Gently, Villain felt themself lowered to the floor. In an instant, they were kicking out, struggling, straining, screaming and screeching. Their attempts to get to their feet, however, were thwarted by firm hands on their shoulders and a leg across their own.
They didn’t need to see the jacket to know what it was. As soon as the canvas touched their skin, they knew. Yet, it was a three on one. No amount of hysterics could stop the sleeves from slipping onto their arms, compressing their hands against the sewn-shut ends. Leather rubbed against metal buckles, canvas ribbing against itself, as, with terrifying speed, the jacket was applied.
It was far too taut, tight enough that, in their hyperventilation, Villain felt that it made them unable to breathe.
“Take it off!” They wailed. They noticed only then that the garment around them now was dyed the same color as the walls-- that unnerving, baby blue.
“Shh, shh, it’s just a jacket, buddy.” The hand in their hair was unfamiliar and nerve-wracking.
They had their legs, still. Only half of them pulled in terrible, suffocating tightness. Fury focused, Villain kicked out, desperate to get their legs under them.
And, of course, their last ounce of dignity had to be wrought from them.
Villain’s shoes had been lost hours ago, though they couldn’t remember the exact scenario. Perhaps during the fight, perhaps afterwards, when they were thrown into the car and harnessed to its restraints.
It didn’t matter. To the doctors, so it seemed, all that mattered was that they could stand. And, to them, that was a problem.
They looked like socks, and, going on, they felt to be as such. Yet, as Villain at last got their feet under them, they realized otherwise. The bottom of the garments seemed to be formed in such a way that, when they tried to stand, their legs shook with the effort of simply retaining their balance. The curves and form of their feet, countered by fabric and plush.
“W-What the- What did you-” Villain gasped.
“Oh, those are just your wobblers, honey.” One of the lab coats smiled. “See? They make you wobble!”
“I’m gonna fall, you piece of shit!”
“Oh, don’t worry, dear.” Another voice, followed by a pair of arms, braced against their back. “You won’t fall. We’re here to help.”
“I don’t want your help!”
“This one’s funny.” The voice came with a smile. “Come on, then.”
Another pair of arms, practically lifting them. Their legs felt to be singed by lapping flames from the strain upon their muscles alone.
“We have a room all set up for you! And once you get your medicine, you’ll feel so much better.”
It was with hysterical shrieks, rapidly weakening, that the patient that had once been Villain was helped down the hallway.
They would never again see the outside of the building. The nice doctors would make sure of that!