Malak (angel)
Pairing: Dottore x gn!reader
CW: fluff? in Dottore's way I guess, murder, blood.
Author's note: Malak is a gender-neutral name with Arabic origins, meaning "angel". It is also a name that is popular in Spain, the Netherlands, Italy, and Turkey. It is often given to girls in the USA and the EU, but in this story, it holds no gender.
You had been working for Il Dottore for a few years, and he had shown you mercy by hiring someone of your stature. Your desperate demeanor seemed to strike a chord with him, as it reminded him of the same desperation he had experienced during his final year at the Akademiya.
He provided you with everything you required, on the condition that you worked diligently and produced results. He expected you to find solutions, not present him with problems, but you were no match for him. You were not a genius, and instead of making things easier, you found yourself entangled in even more trouble than you had anticipated. You were a lost cause, so why did he keep you around? In fact, he even barred you from the surgery room after you accidentally cut yourself while cleaning a scalpel. Concerned about potential infection, he personally tended to your wound. Did he lavish such attention on his other assistants, or was it solely reserved for you? Regardless, you relished the moments when Prime bestowed his focus upon you, and that usually happened when you found yourself in trouble rather than when you accomplished something commendable. Slowly but surely, you began to "accidentally" engage in activities that required his intervention, pushing the limits of his patience within the laboratory.
Your deliberate testing of Prime's patience within the laboratory didn't go unnoticed. Each time you "accidentally" caused a situation that demanded his expertise, his watchful eyes scrutinized your every move. It was almost as if he enjoyed the challenge you presented, relishing in the opportunity to prove his own capabilities while simultaneously attempting to mold you into a more competent assistant.
Despite the numerous mishaps and setbacks you caused, Prime's attentive nature never wavered. He remained steadfast in his commitment to guide you, recognizing the potential buried beneath your apparent incompetence. Perhaps he saw a glimmer of his former self in your struggles, or maybe he simply reveled in the chance to shape a raw, untapped talent. Whatever the reason, you couldn't deny the twisted sense of satisfaction you derived from his focused attention, even if it was born out of your own shortcomings.
It wasn't until your foolishness caused a more significant accident that you began to suspect that he might have developed feelings for you, or at least had an undisclosed reason to keep you around. It happened when you believed a test subject had passed away, leading you to unstrap it from the table. However, it turned out to be a trap. The test subject lunged at you, sinking its teeth into your flesh. The pain surged through your body, and in the chaos of the moment, you screamed out. The next instant, a warm liquid splattered across your face, accompanied by the echoing sound of a gunshot. Overwhelmed by the shock, you succumbed to unconsciousness, only to awaken hours later with an intravenous drip attached to your arm.
He was there, sitting next to you, engrossed in a book.
"How many times have I told you to check the vitals?" Prime asked, his eyes still glued to the pages.
"I… I'm sorry," you apologized. "Should I… pack my stuff?"
He chuckled.
"Did I ever say I was firing you?"
You hid under the blanket that he had draped over you. "But it keeps happening."
He closed the book and placed it on the table beside him. "Do you really think the 2nd Fatui Harbinger is stupid? Do you think so little of me?" He approached you as he spoke, pulling the blanket down.
You closed your eyes, fearing what he might have in his hand. Was he going to dispose of you? He had mentioned not firing you, but what about… murder? It wouldn't be the first time he had done it.
"I'm so sorry; it wasn't my intention," you pleaded.
"Your intention to… cause trouble so I would give you some attention?" he asked.
Slowly, you looked up, and to your surprise, he was smiling. He gently held your chin and leaned closer to your face.
"I never…" you began to say.
But he cut you off with a brief kiss. "Do you really think I'm that foolish? That's offensive."
You remained still, hoping he would do it again. However, he didn't.
"Why did you do that?" you asked, your voice filled with shyness.
"Because you're my most successful experiment to date," he said proudly. "You should go freshen up; you're kind of… bloody," he remarked, licking the blood from his lips. It was yours, from when the test subject attacked you.
You blushed slightly after the incident, quickly leaving the room. Your heart pounded as if it wanted to escape your chest. Once inside your own room, you closed the door and collapsed onto the ground. Could you really be developing feelings for the deranged doctor? The smell of blood made you nearly nauseous, prompting you to rise and remove your clothes, preparing to take a shower.
Meanwhile, Il Dottore instructed the other assistants to clean up the mess. He sat in front of his papers, holding your file in his hand. Taking a pen, he wrote "successful" next to your picture, then archived it. He reached into the inner pocket of his waistcoat, retrieving a hidden photograph. It depicted him during his Driyosh days in Sumeru, standing beside someone who bore a striking resemblance to you.
"I suppose we can call this a reunion, don't you think, malak?" he whispered to himself before carefully tucking the picture back into his pocket.
Centuries ago, he had lost you, and he blamed himself for that tragedy. It was the forbidden knowledge that led to your demise, and he could never forgive himself. He transformed into the person he was today because he needed a way to bring you back. He sacrificed countless lives, seeking to reunite you by his side, where you rightfully belonged. Just as in the past, you were reckless, always craving his attention, always pushing for a break from routine, forever yearning for his touch.
And now, here you were again, and he would not let you slip away. After all, he had mutilated his own body countless times, creating these segments to acquire enough knowledge to bring you back at the perfect moment.
Tag list;@leftdestiny-posts , @goodthingimsam , @dottores-wife , @crimson-ashes
