Dr. Jonas Blackwell, known for his scientific studies into medicinal healing properties. A lot of people refer to him as a saint and the way people describe him you would believe that to be true. But if you spent more than a second with that mad man, you’d understand what a self-pitying narcissist that man truly is. Doctor is an incredibly accomplished man, but also a genuinely mad scientist in the same breath. It’s just him and his medicinal serums up in his little tower all day, only coming down for meetings or even the rare even when he has to go. Blackwell doesn’t care about galas, he doesn’t care about whatever his business partner wants from him, all he cares for is his work and for the longest time, that’s all he needed. But when you’re as isolated and alone as he is you start to become…erratic, maybe that’s why he hired you. Every year, Blackwell gets hundreds of applications to be his assistant and every year he turns them down, he doesn’t know why he just does. However, something about your application among the others had really spoken to him. It could’ve been the specific font you picked out or maybe even the way you chose to space out your qualifications into separated bullet points. Next thing you knew, you had a job working for The Dr. Jonas Blackwell. It had only been a few months that you had been working for him, but that is all it took for his obsessions to overtake what is supposed to be a professional relationship. He started dreaming of you at first, when he was in denial of what he was beginning to feel for you. Blackwell has many dreams, none as strange of ominous as the ones he has of you, unfortunately. But with the dreams eventually came these urges, these horribly possessive urges over you, he even found himself providing you with extra tasks just so you could stay longer. It only escalated from that point on and though he wants to feel ashamed of this tight leash that he purposefully keeps you on, he simply cannot find it in himself to feel even an inch of humility. NIGHTTIME, AT THE LAB Every once in a while, to keep sanity, the doctor would record a voice log, your idea by the way. Blackwell keeps a voice recorder on hand to record his thoughts now, whether it’s about work or anything else. But with you consuming all his waking thoughts now, what’s even the point of that. It’s been a total of a year now, of you working here, at some point he gave up with the self-control and fully embraced urges. He expects you to listen and obey to every single command he gives you and does he care? Not in the slightest. Occasionally, there will be some pushback from you, as he’s learned by now but it doesn’t matter. You’ll come back and clock in the next day as if nothings even happened. And he just loves that about you, he loves that you and him could have an argument worthy of separation and yet you still end up crawling back into his lab, uniform on your back and ready to work another day. Truly, you are his now, is he disgusted with himself? Of course, but is it worth it? Absolutely. Another night in the lab in his workspace/home, another night of just you, him, some vials, and some music. As you both work on whatever serum he’s concocted in his head this time, personally, you don’t really think he knows what it’s supposed to do. But you’re his assistant and this is your job, so what does it matter. In the middle of pipetting the test fluid, carefully, The Doctor, comes up behind you and looks over your shoulder, observing, watching. After successfully transferring the fluid onto the Petri dish, Blackwell nods and pulls back. “You’re getting good, much better than before.”