#dr livesey x GN reader

[dastardly-imbecile]

Pt 2 of the Dr. Livesey fanfic

refer to prior post for explanation

The sun beat down on your back and the top of your head, almost unbearable. The beach of bodies was far enough behind that if you looked back, the island would curve before you could see them, but you still couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling. 

A feeling not helped in the slightest by the presence of your companion. He swaggered along beside you, seemingly quite unbothered, just quick enough that you had to stumble to keep up. 

To your right lay the endless expanse of the sea, glimmering in the sunlight and barren of any type of rescue. You’d kept your eyes on the shoreline for any sign of a crash, but not a single plant of wood littered the sand. To the left, the beach slowly seceded to a forest. You may have been inclined to walk under the treeline for the shade, but something about it made you appreciate the open expanse of the beach more than you would otherwise. Who knew what lay inside of the tangle of trees?

Besides that terror, an all-more-pressing need slowly crept up on you. The stores of food and water that had been on the ship were - much like the ship - nowhere to be found, and under this heat, thirst was already creeping up your throat. 

Well, you had to break the silence sometime, didn’t you?

“Do you have water?” 

He paused and immediately reached into one of the pockets of his overcoat. A moment later, it came out holding a leather flask. “Ah, I keep it on me at all times. Better than rum, yes it is, no need for that…”

He grinned at you. The flask was warm, and so was the water inside, and it was all you had to only take one sip before handing it back. 

“Thank you.” It went back into his coat. 

Don’t stare at it longingly. When you’re thirsty again… when it runs out… what then…?

Maybe staring longingly would’ve been conducive after all, but by now, you were simply staring at the expanse of his chest and not anything you could drink. 

And so, the day dragged on under the weight of the sun, trudging through piles of sand. Eventually, it began to dip below the horizon, flaring the sky into a quilt of colors. 

“I think we’re alone.” Truly, you hadn’t ever really thought you’d find another ship. Maybe it was simply denial, but something about the island made you feel distinctly… isolated. 

“Maybe, maybe.” The man beside you looked out over the sea. There was a peculiar smile on his face as he regarded the sunset - a smile very out of place in this situation. Still, you looked towards it as well, suddenly unwilling to let the sun go, despite how much you’d been cursing it only an hour ago. Heat and light were infinitely better than the darkness. 

“What should we do now?” The logical course, in your opinion, was to set up a fire. A chill was already creeping into the air and under your clothes. But fire meant wood and wood meant entering the forest, and in this half-light it appeared as a smudge of black and gray. 

“Why, we sleep, of course. A very advantageous thing. We will need to be well-rested to make it around the island.”

“...Around? Are we still going?” There had been nothing to find but sand and sea and what there was to find, bodies with no ships, was less appealing than even that. 

“What else are we to do?” He let out a long laugh. It definitely didn’t fit the situation you were in. “How foolish.”

You didn’t respond, mostly because you couldn’t think of an adequate one. As a cold breeze rustled past the island, finding its way under your already-light clothes, you couldn’t help but shiver. 

Your companion’s brow furrowed in concern. “Ah, yes, the chill is coming. That won’t do. Cold begets illness, you know, so we must keep you warm…”

Whatever he was thinking was rather inscrutable - at least, until he began to shuck off of his overcoat. It was made of some thick, green fabric, clean and finely woven. Perhaps his ship was richer than usual, or it was just his own fortune. In any case, you shied away. 

“I can’t. What about you?”

He stepped forwards to thrust it upon you. “I would not be felled by some lowly cold.” Another laugh. It was starting to get vaguely unsettling. “I am in superb health, you know! My body is finely honed.”

With the coat off, his clothes underneath were much like yours - thin linen, vaguely white and unfitting. Yours were too large; his were on the other side of the spectrum. It creased where his arms, his chest, were too large to contain, the faint definition of muscles below. Finely honed indeed - if physical prowess was a contest, he would win. Strength of mind, on the other hand…

You grabbed the overcoat. It was rough, but not overtly uncomfortable, and smelled of herbs, something faintly bitter. Medicine, most likely, given his profession. 

Far too large for you, as could be expected. But warm, enough so that it felt almost like you were standing in the embrace of someone else. The shivers subsided quickly enough, and sure as he’d said, he showed no sign of vulnerability to the wind. 

“Thank you.”

“Nothing of it.”

Without anything more to do, you gingerly sat down on the beach. For a moment, he stood above you, a monolith stretching high beyond your comprehension- but then, he sat, and was once again reduced to a mortal. 

“What’s your name?” You asked, suddenly realizing that, over the course of the entire day, you’d never learned it. Strange. 

“You may call me Doctor,” He responded. As close as he sat - perhaps it was simply the lingering qualities of his coat, but you could almost feel the warmth of his body. “Doctor Livesey.” 

[dastardly-imbecile]

Trapped On An Island With Dr. Livesey

Wrote this for a friend and know next-to-nothing about the original work, so apologies for lack of canon-compliance.

Vaguely Dr. Livesey x GN reader?

You lay on the beach, utterly disoriented. Judging from the sun hanging bright above, it was sometime in the range of noon, not that that helped you much. The dully humid weight of the air around you only served to emphasize the utter discomfort of the position that you found yourself in. Groaning, you braced your arms against the sand and managed to push into a sitting position. 

Here, at least, you no longer had to stare straight up towards the brilliance of the bright blue sky, but your gaze was immediately arrested by the other sight - bodies lay piled around the shore in poses similar to the one you must have been sprawled in just moments earlier. Only, in this case, you couldn’t tell whether they were dead or not.

Where was your ship? Sunlight gleamed off of the ocean in undulating starbursts, moving with the crests of water. It was all quite pretty, but what really would have made the view would be a ship anchored in the sea, whole and seaworthy enough to take you far from here. 

Unfortunately, there was no such thing in sight. For now, it was only you, on this beach - you and the bodies and not exactly a stellar memory of how you’d gotten here. There had been… the ship, for sure, the rocking of the waves and wood beneath your feet. The crew… a sea of faces swam vaguely before your mind’s eye, but you couldn’t bring yourself to start scanning the bodies. What, exactly…?

A wreck would’ve taken care of the ship, but it wouldn’t leave bodies scattered this far from the water. Pirates could’ve made off with the ship and scattered the crew, but then why would you be alive - no wounds to be seen, even? 

Something jolted you out of your thoughts, some instinct honed by the lifestyle you led. There was someone behind you - maybe a pirate from the aforementioned theory, or perhaps this island wasn’t quite as uninhabited as the empty stretch of coast would make it seem at first-

You grasped at your side. Nothing. Then, down to your boots, where there should’ve been a dagger strapped to the side-

“No need for that.” 

Of course, who were you to listen? Your fingers fumbled with the leather strap for a brief, panic-stricken moment, and then it was in your hand, gleaming just as bright as the sun. 

You jumped up around to see a man, standing almost a head above you, standing a safe distance away - safe for him, at least, too far for you to easily reach with only a dagger. 

Safe for you? Still up in the air. 

“Don’t come closer,” you warned. Here was the only standing person besides you, and as you were fairly sure that you weren’t the one to leave all the bodies, there was reasonable expectation that it was him. And by that logic, if it was, then you and a dagger couldn’t stop him in the slightest, but best not to think about that. 

“You look good, yes,” he said, eyes scanning over you. “No wounds visible. Heatstroke? Maybe.”

Completely ignoring your warning, he stepped closer. “Oh, but you’re alive and that’s a wonderful thing. Do you happen to have any idea what has landed us here?”

“Do you?” You ask. 

“Why, no. I’m asking you, am I not?” He sighed, brushing a hand down the front of his barrel-broad chest. “I suppose it’s forever a mystery.”

Warily, you put your dagger-hand down. “Is there anyone else?”

“All dead.” He swept his hand over the space behind him, a showman and his macabre display that would never be on any stage. “Quite strange. No wounds to be found. I could autopsy…” 

“Your ship?” You asked tentatively. He definitely wasn’t a part of yours, but the prospect that two boats had been… whatever this was chilled you. 

“Gone. I came from the other side of the island. Almost thought I’d walked all the way back around when I saw the bodies again, but for…”

“What do you remember?”

He tilted his head. “Ah, I was a medic on the Hispaniola. My men were scoundrels. Filth, the lot of them. Though they didn’t deserve this. I was treating a patient, yes, he drank too much, they all do… Oh, and then I was upon the beach.”

Before you could ask anything more, he brushed his hands together. “Well!” Almost incongruous to the mood only moments before, he grinned. “Perhaps there’s another one on the third slope of the island. Let us keep on.”

“What about… everyone?” Maybe it was time to bring the dagger back up again. Surviving something like this probably couldn’t be good for the mind, and that smile…

“What about them?” He looked around, swiveling his head almost comically. “There is nothing to be done. I cannot bring the dead back!” 

“But… Burial?”

“No, no, far too little time. Oh, oh, I know what it is you want. Of course, how could I not have thought of this before? Do you possess ill humors?”

“I’m fine,” you said. “I-”

“Nonsense. The patients never know themselves. Give me your arm.”

The clothes he wore were rich for a sailor, solidly woven and clean. There was no sign of a weapon concealed under them, nor one in the open, and if he really wanted to hurt you, you’d reckon it would happen anyways. With that in mind, you tentatively offered up your free hand. 

He peered down at it and traced a large hand from shoulder to wrist, applying a light pressure as he went. This close to you, he practically loomed above - for a medic, he was built rather large. It was…

Well, disconcerting, among other things. 

“You’re in well health,” he declared after a long moment. You stared at the single arm he examined.

“...Is that all?”

“Well, I shall need more time for the rest. Getting under the clothes requires more effort. But ah, if you’re gravely injured below, I suppose we’ll find out soon!” He chuckled at the comment. It was true, but you still found it profoundly unfunny. 

“Now, let us depart.”

He marched on ahead. Behind him, you could see the footsteps stretching through the sand from where he’d come - and his heavy step left more, swiftly proceeding past you. What choice did you have, besides following him? At least maybe knowing where he was would be better than him potentially having the ability to sneak up on you. 

So, with that in mind, you scrambled to follow.