#dca eclipse x reader

You wake up to the sound of watery warbling. Again.

If this had been three months ago, when you'd first stepped up to "temporarily" take over your aging uncle's position as the island's lighthouse keeper, you would've been out of your mind with worry.

And you were, back then. So much so that you were half convinced you'd hallucinated the storm-stranded, clearly inhuman fish man you'd patched up and sent back to sea.

Of course, it would be easier to write the whole thing off as a bit too much salt water to the senses if said fishy individual didn't keep winding up on your shore.

The first time you found the fish-tailed fibber back on the rocky beach, you were both flabbergasted and terrified. After all, this was the same creature that, not even a week prior, had almost ripped a chunk out of you for daring to approach him.

Sure, he was injured and you were a potentially-dangerous stranger. But frankly, if he hadn't been covered in wounds and disorientated from dehydration, you're pretty sure he would have made good on his hissed-out threats.

And just because you'd managed to survive an encounter with him once didn't mean you'd be so lucky next time…

So, you'd spent a long while simply staring at the merman. And as far as you could tell, he didn't seem to be injured at all. Even the wounds you'd previously treated were gone, leaving nothing but smooth, shiny, scar-free scales in their place.

If half this guy's body wasn't as black as his blood, and the other half as red as the blood he could draw from you, maybe you would've helped him out sooner. Still, at least you could go to sleep that night knowing that, after one small, genuine-enough sounding request for assistance from the Mer, you helped him find his way back home.

But then he came back again. And again. And, you guessed it, again.

By the third time around you'd had no choice but to be suspicious. The merman—Eclipse, as he'd requested you call him—turned out to be a lot of things. He's big, and frilly, and flashy; not to mention a bit of a flirt. But he's also not stupid.

Well, not stupid enough to keep getting stranded by mistake, that is. This is the same guy who had, with full confidence, slither-sprinted down the shore to catch something to "quiet the rumbling of your stomach." All while you were in the middle of dragging his "too weary to move another inch" body off the rocks, at that.

You hadn't accepted the still-writhing fish from his bloody claws. You also hadn't come running to his aid when he'd "accidentally" gotten himself beached again the very next day.

You've been trying to ignore Eclipse and the strange, most likely nefarious game he seems determined to play with you ever since.

Trying being the keyword here.

"Alright, what happened this time?" you girt out as you trudge toward the jerk-fish, anyway. You won't blame yourself for giving in, not when you're positive anyone's resolve would crack after being subjected to two hours of this overgrown guppy's moaning and groaning.

"Why, could that be the grouchy grumblings of my sweet Starfish, here to heroically rescue me at long last?" the fish man croons as you come into view. Sharp teeth flash from behind grinning lips, that flat, circular head of his tilting far too coyly for him to actually be in distress.

You don't even blink before cutting to the chase.

"I told you I'm not playing this game anymore, Eclipse."

"Ah, yes, you did mention something along those lines," Eclipse hums, the ray-like fins on his head drooping in an entirely unconvincing display of guilt. "And while I would love to do nothing more than to fulfill each and every request your darling heart desires, I'm afraid today I've found myself, well…"

"Well…?"

Pouting like a kicked puppy, the merman lifts his tail. Halfway into its arch, it jerks back toward the ground, as though someone's trying to keep it from moving. Or, you suppose as you get a closer look at the problem, something.

"As you can see, I've unfortunately found myself a bit tied up at the moment," Eclipse finishes with a flick of his captured tail fins.

"And just how did you manage to do that?" you question, honestly a little impressed at this latest attempt for your attention. Because he's gotten himself stuck good this time, like tangled up in a massive net kind of good.

As you do a loop around Eclipse, you can also just barely spot one of the net's fishing floats wedged firmly between the rocks he lies upon. Even if the merman did initially plan this whole thing to get your attention, he's definitely stuck beyond what even a creature as strong as him could get out of alone.

So, you are going to have to help him again.

Great.

"Oh, please don't set your ire upon me just yet, my pretty Pearl," the flirty fish man croons as he sees your brows furrow. "I assure you, if I had the desire to wrap myself up like a present for you, it would not be like," he tugs his tail upward more insistently, tsking as the net holds strong, "this."

"Is that so?" you snort, more than a little amused to see him knocked down a peg or two. "Well then, if you promise not to bite me, claw me, drown me, or snuff me out in any other way or form, I think I can get you out of this thing before you dry up entirely."

"Why, I would never even dream of harming you, my Starfish," Eclipse objects, hand dramatically pressed to his heart. Though, he does at least have the decency to look a bit abashed as your skeptical expression only grows. "Ah, that is, I would never dream of it again."

"Mhm..."

Spinning on your heels, you march back up to your supposedly temporary home without another word. Having gone through this song and dance before, albeit it without something you've had to cut through before, you snatch up your first ad kit, an empty bucket, and one of the bigger knives from your kitchen.

Is the kit unnecessary this go around? Most likely, yeah. Do you expect Eclipse to complain about not having his fictional wounds tended to if you don't take it with you? Without a single doubt in your mind, yes.

You're greeted with a saccharine whistle as you shamble back toward the mermen. You ignore him, and that menacing grin of his ticks down into a frown.

After a few trips with your bucket to the sea and back to keep this overgrown fish from drying out, you give the net a more thorough examination. It's about as stuck as you'd thought it'd be, its ropes so thick you have a feeling you're going to be working on this for hours. With only Eclipse to keep you company.

Lovely.

Don't get you wrong, it's not like you despise the guy or anything. Nah, once he's done dragging you into whatever scheme he's cooked up, he's actually quite the pleasant conversation partner.

He asks about you, your likes and interests, and you often find yourself in a good enough mood to do the same. Plus, he's more than willing to share all sorts of interesting tales about his life in the sea. And frankly, after spending months on this lonely hunk of rocks with almost nothing to do, its been nice. Really nice.

It's just… Why would someone as interesting as him keep coming back here?

It would be wonderful to have a friend to keep you company, you aren't denying that. But Eclipse's motivations are about as fishy as he smells. Which is a lot.

So, rationally speaking you really shouldn't be so careless around a stranger, let alone one that could only be playing with you until he gets bored. Or hungry.

Your knife slips between the netting, regardless, held with all the care in the world as you make the first cut.

"Sooo," Eclipse drawls out when the silence between you two stretches on for a bit too long.

"Sooo?"

"Well, I was just wondering if you've found anyone to take over your position here yet?" Eclipse hums, picking at the grains of sands between his rocky prison. "I'd just about given up hope that you were still here at all, after the first hour my songs went ignored."

Your brow furrows. "And why do you ask?"

"I'm simply curious, my Pearl. You did seem fairly upset about it when we last spoke."

"Ah, yeah, I guess I was." You sigh, setting the knife down so your hands can have a break. "No, I haven't gotten any news of them finding a permanent keeper yet. And I doubt I will anytime soon, either. Like I said last time, no one wants this crappy job."

"Then why don't you leave?" Eclipse asks, his expression turning expectant as he focuses solely on you. "What is there here that keeps you from simply walking away from it all?"

"The lighthouse meant a lot to my uncle," you state instantly in that same confident, if not slightly naive, tone as when you'd first promised to take care of the island in his stead. "I'd feel awful abandoning the place he loved so much."

"Oh, is that all?" Eclipse replies, pouting petulantly.

You fetch another bucket of water to splash him in the face with.

"What, were you expecting a different answer?" you snicker as you watch the merman splutters.

Eclipse simply harrumphs, crossing his arms as he turns away from you. Maybe feeling a teeny, tiny shred of guilt, you make the call to go grab lunch.

That toothy grin of his returns when you set a bucket of newly purchased fish by his side. You, uh, had told him pretty early on in your strange relationship that you don't exactly care for seafood…

Eclipse, mercifully, leaves you be as you finish your own meal. Your adventures in amateur net-cutting goes about the same, Eclipse seemingly content to watch you while you work.

It's not until you're halfway up his tail, the elbows you were using to support yourself slipping against his sleek skin, that his gaze sharpens like a knife.

You reel back instantly, hissing as you see the angry, blood cuts your mistake has left on your fingers. Your breath morphs into a stilted gasp as you see the merman reaching for you.

You lift the knife between you two, yelping as his fist captures yours in an immovable vice. You thrash, shifting your legs underneath you to try and get them close enough to kick Eclipse away— But then he moves to cradle your wounded hand so gently in his, as though you're the most precious, fragile thing in the world.

You let him take the knife from you, and that genuinely distraught look on his face morphs into a reassuring smile.

"Everything's okay, my Pearl, see?" Eclipse breathes, reaching for the first aid kit. He swaps it for the knife before returning to you, dropping it just out of your reach.

You nod, too stunned to object, and the merman trills out an especially happy sound.

You watch on as Eclipse uses those sharp, deadly claws of his to carefully bandage your wound. He doesn't skip a single step, even wincing sympathetically as he applies disinfectant to your stinging cuts.

Only when he's warped up your injury as much as anyone possibly could do you pull away. Your hand still aches, but there's also a soft, warm sensation there now, too.

"Um, t-thank you," you mumble, looking his work over so you don't have to see those startlingly disarming eyes of his. "You, uh… you did good."

"Of course, my clumsy little Starfish. It was my pleasure." Eclipse's smile tilts to the side when you still fail to look at him. "Although I do wish you would not distrust me so much. I'm not one for lying, my Pearl, especially not when I've promised something as important as your safety."

"Why do you care so much what I think about you?" you sigh, finally lifting your eyes. "You asked me why I stay here, what I want to know is why you keep coming back."

Eclipse's head cocks to the side, and you get ready for another one of his quippy retorts. You squeak as he plucks up your injured hand, instead, guiding it to rest just underneath his lips.

"I return because I have someone worth coming back to. Is that… objectionable to you?"

"Uh." Your gaze darts between his eyes and your hands, looking for any sign that he's messing with you, that this is all one big joke to him. "I guess not…?"

"Wonderful," Eclipse simpers, his teeth flashing as he gives you an almost blinding smile. Lips press against your hand before it's returned to you, a musical chuckle leaving the merman as you sit there staring at him in utter shock.

"Well, my dear, as much as I'd love to keep being doted on by you," Eclipse continues, twisting around to grab hold of the net. "It would look quite bad on my character if I were to let you continue on with that injury of yours. And I do believe I'm quite inclined to keep you seeing me at my best, hm?"

You blink rapidly as Eclipse angles his claws above the netting, his sharp digits slicing through the ropes with ease. You mouth parts on an offended objection. It comes out as an amused sigh in the end.

You don't think you can find it in yourself to mind. Not when this persistent companion of yours looks back at you as though there's nowhere else he'd rather be.