Ok y'all, walk with me here.... devil's minion AU where Daniel is a lighthouse keeper or some shit and Armand is a mermaid/siren/sea monster that hunts sailors in the ocean next to Daniel's lighthouse.
Like, I'm thinking the ominous vibes of everyone warning Daniel about the "creature in the bay." Maybe the last guy was mysteriously lured out into the water by singing in the night. Also some vibes like The Lighthouse by Robert Eggers where maybe the last guy went insane, drawing pictures or carving figurines of mermaids. And OF COURSE Daniel has to have a bunch of crazy sex dreams featuring mermaid Armand!
And maybe Armand specifically targets sailors or "evildoers" (he can still read minds in this lol) cuz once he was caught in a sailor's net and taken from his home.... Maybe they were going to take him to a circus or dissect him or something, but he got free, which is how he ended up being all alone in the bay 🥺
Maybe Daniel, being an investigative journalist at heart, starts interviewing people to try to figure out what everyone thinks is a monster in the sea. Maybe Daniel documents what he sees by recording himself talking and Armand falls in love with his voice 🤭
ANYWAY I am having TOO MANY FIC IDEAS (but lemme know if you would be interested in reading smthn like this 🩷)
P.S. I got inspo for this literally in the middle of the night last night while listening to "Satan Loves You" by Chloë Doucet cuz of the following lyrics:
I spend my summers with the hammerhead sharks
Circling sailors in the evening light
Yeah, they taste real good when they
Haven't been laid since last April
And I was like "omg it's so Armand-core" lol. He would totally hunt with sharks if there were no other mermaids in the area 🤧
Summary: Spirit has always been Stein's greatest experiment, just not in the way he has always thought.
Also on AO3
AN: Uneditted and purely indulgent to my own weird little theory about Stein's experiments on Spirit when they were first partners. Just shy of 3,000 words. Certainly not my best writing; I'd like to be more thorough with this idea, but for now I just needed it out of my head.
CW: Fairly brief mention of surgery (surgical tools, scars, etc.) on others and self, mentions of blood/violence, betrayal, angsty but with an implied happy ending
“You know I trust you.”
“And you know that it’s a mistake, really.”
Spirit swallowed hard, looking at the boy in white next to him as he picked through various surgical instruments. The words had slipped from the meister's mouth faster than he would’ve had time to think, so Spirit knew that he meant it. But—for some reason beyond reason—Spirit still trusted him.
It was only fair that he did, really. Stein was putting his life into Spirit’s hands each time they went into battle; it was Spirit’s sworn duty to protect his meister partner, and if he failed, Stein would be the one to face the consequences. If Stein could trust Spirit with his life, then Spirit needed to do the same.
“I’m just saying there are risks,” the younger boy continued, still not looking up from the tray of meticulously sorted tools, “Surgery always comes with risks.”
“I know that,” Spirit huffed, shifting on the table. A crumpled blanket covered his lap, but aside from that, he had already stripped down for the operation. He desperately wished that Stein hadn’t waited until the last minute to voice his concerns, leaving him exposed and anxiously anticipating the pain of the operation.
“I don’t mean risks to your health.” Stein’s hands dropped to his sides and came to a stop, but he didn’t look up. “There are risks to your reputation, as well. I’m sure you’ve noticed the way people look at me.”
Of course, Spirit thought, Who hasn’t noticed? It had been a while ago that scars had started appearing on the young genius’ body. Most of them were small—small enough to fade and to be pushed from one’s mind (maybe it was a scratch, an accident)—but recently, some had become more concerning. Nothing he was doing was against the Academy’s rules (Spirit always made sure of that), and how was anyone supposed to stop him? The alternative was to allow him to hurt others, and no one could allow that. So, instead, they appointed him with social judgment—a collective consensus to leave him outcasted, feared, and alone. Spirit was guilty of it as well. He hated being seen as the meister's babysitter, and the stitches on the meister's body made him uncomfortable just like everyone else.
“I can keep them under my shirt,” he said, “People won’t even notice.”
“You’ll never take off your shirt in front of anyone ever?” the madman said, raising an eyebrow, “I find that unlikely.”
“It won’t have to be forever,” the older boy growled, “You said your research will change lives, Stein! No one will care what happened when they know I did it for a good cause.”
Something not unlike a smile tugged at the corner of the boy’s mouth. “You’re an idiot,” he said plainly. The change of inflection in his voice was even less noticeable than the change in expression, but Spirit noted it nonetheless.
“You think everyone is an idiot.”
There was a short moment of silence before Stein, going back to the matter at hand, said, “I just want to be sure that you are aware of the possible consequences. It’s possible that these operations will be entirely unhelpful. I can’t guarantee success for either of us.”
“You said that we still don’t know much about how weapons’ bodies work, right?” Spirit reminded him, “How else would anyone figure anything out? I know the risks, and I’ve agreed to it. You’ll use this research to develop surgical practices on weapons wounded in battle, and you’ll save lives. People will think that we’re heroes.”
Stein huffed. “It’s unlikely my finds from this operation go anywhere on their own,” he argued, “We’d have to do numerous dissections on numerous cadavers.”
“We’ll do as many as you need. Once people see the gains you’ve made performing research on me, they’ll be sure to approve of further research. They’ll understand everything you’ve been doing all along.”
“They won’t.” His voice had gone rigged, particularly cold. “I’m not doing it for those reasons, Spirit. I’m doing it to know. Whether lives are saved or not does not concern me.”
Spirit laid back on the exam table and closed his eyes, frustrated by the bickering. “I’m the one getting cut open tonight, Stein. You should be far more optimistic in this situation than I am.”
“How many times do I need to say it?” The boy moved again, picking a scalpel up from the tray and turning it precariously in his fingers. “I’m just making sure you know all the risks.” Stein stepped closer to Spirit, putting one hand on the older boy’s chest with just enough pressure to keep his back flat on the table. “I am incredibly—how did you put it?” the silver-haired boy chimed, “—optimistic.”
— ~ — * — ~ —
“Spirit, what are these?”
The blood drained from Spirit’s face, and he swallowed hard. Fuck, how on earth could he have forgotten?
Things had gotten out of hand so quickly. It started at a party, as these things so often did, and from there it was drinking, and then dancing, and then stumbling into the nearest vacant room with his hands on Kami’s waist. He’d been too drunk to think—no, he’d been thinking, just nothing helpful—about the scars, and Kami must’ve noticed him flinch as her hand explored under his shirt, brushing over one of the fresher wounds.
“Spirit?” she said again, looking up at him.
“They’re nothing, really,” he said.
“What do you mean?” He felt his stomach churn at the concern in her voice as she lifted his shirt out of the way to expose further wounds and scars on his abdomen. “How did you get them?” she asked.
“I… I don’t know,” he lied, hoping that his guilt would be perceived as concern, “They just appear. It’s nothing, probably.”
“How can you not know?” she asked harshly, her eyebrows furred down into an angry glare, “Look at the stitches, Spirit! You don’t think these are even the slightest bit familiar? That little psycho you call your meister is obviously doing something to you!”
“I think I would know if that were the case,” he said defensively, unsure of how else to shift the guilt away from Stein.
“Clearly, not! He’s probably drugging you so that he can operate on you in your sleep. Who knows what he’s already done to you!”
"Kami, please--"
Before Spirit could even comprehend what was happening, he was being dragged to his and Stein’s apartment by Kami, who was fuming with rage. She nearly broke down the door, storming in immediately with Spirit close in tow, and pounded on the door to Stein’s bedroom.
“Stein, you bastard! Get out here!” she shouted, making Spirit flinch.
There was a long, tragic moment of silence before the door opened, Stein standing behind it, dressed in white as always. “Kami, Spirit,” he addressed each of them blandly.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Please, you’ll need to be more specific.”
Kami pulled Spirit forward and yanked up his shirt, revealing his scar-stained abdomen. The young weapon felt his eyes go wide with fear and shock, unsure of what to do, but Stein’s didn’t meet his gaze through the glare of his glasses. His face gave no hint of worry, no hint of care.
“How do you explain this?” she asked angrily.
Stein shrugged. Spirit felt himself start to panic. “I’m a scientist. What do you expect?” the younger boy said.
“I didn’t expect you to be drugging your weapon partner and experimenting on him in his sleep!” she snapped.
Spirit waited, looking for a telltale sign of emotion on Stein’s face. But there wasn’t one. The younger boy should have been afraid—betrayed, even. And yet it looked as if he felt nothing. “I’d hardly expect either of you to understand,” he said.
“I understand!” Kami shouted, “You’re a complete psycho! Don’t you know that you could’ve killed him?”
“Don’t you know that I chose not to?” Stein replied. The statement had a bite to it that seemed to come unnaturally to the meister. “I held his life in my hands, and I chose to spare it. Don’t make me regret my decision, Kami.”
“You’re… you’re a lunatic!” she shouted. She grabbed Spirit’s arm again, moving closer to him. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
Stein didn’t move, his eyes fixed on both of them, and Spirit felt himself freeze for a moment. He was looking for something—anything—on the meister’s face to tell him how he was feeling. He needed to step in. He needed to do something, say something—he needed to stand up for Stein before it was too late. But before he could form the words, Kami was walking him out of the apartment with a firm hand on his back, holding him close as if worried he’d faint. They left, and he did nothing.
— ~ — * — ~ —
All these years later, and Spirit felt so sick that he could throw up. He could hear the bottom of a bottle calling to him, a sweet harmony he usually wouldn’t hesitate to answer, but now of all times felt inappropriate to be drinking.
He was a failure. He’d always been a failure. But somehow, the damage done by his mistakes continued to grow. Error upon error stacked upon each other, the consequences culminating into a cascade of shame and guilt.
The Demon Sword had gotten away, and so had the witch it was working with. And, worse than that, Maka and Soul had been in the brunt of the battle as well. Usually, the mere thought of the ivory-haired teen made his blood boil, but now he was sick with worry. Had Soul not been there—if he hadn’t sacrificed himself—then what would’ve become of his daughter? As much as he didn’t want to imagine it, he couldn’t get the image out of his head: his precious daughter’s blood splattered over the walls because he had been too late.
Soul was in surgery now with Dr. Stein, which somehow made him feel worse. When he was a student (not even so long ago, really), an operation like this would’ve been unheard of—impossible, even. But Stein was a genius, and his understanding of weapons and their bodies was invaluable. He always insisted that his search for knowledge wasn’t intended to benefit others, yet it continued to serve the academy and its students time and time again.
Stein was a madman, but he was still a good person. Spirit always knew that, and yet all those years ago, he let Stein take the fall as soon as someone discovered his scars. He didn’t know what had prevented him from just admitting that he had consented to the operations. Was he that ashamed of admitting that he trusted his meister? Or was he just that concerned with what people thought of him—worried that people would shun him and label him as a freak, the same way they had Stein for so many years?
Waiting outside the infirmary for news, Spirit felt himself shake. Stein should have hated him, but as their soul wavelengths tangled in one another during the fight with the Demon Sword, Spirit knew that the madman didn’t hold so much as a grudge. It was as if nothing had ever happened at all. Somehow, that was worse. He had made mistake after mistake, and the only person who seemed to hate him was his daughter. As they both waited near the infirmary door, she wouldn’t even look at him. At least he knew that he deserved it.
Eventually, the infirmary door opened, and the silver-haired man appeared, his white labcoat in pristine condition despite the bloody task he had just finished performing. Maka was first to approaching him, inquiring rapidly about her partner’s condition. Spirit kept himself from flinching while Stein lied to her through his teeth. He didn’t know exactly what was wrong, but he knew it was something. Maka—like most others—couldn’t read Stein the way he could, and she thanked him before moving on, relief radiating from her person.
Spirit wanted to snap at him as soon as she had walked away, but he kept himself calm. It didn’t take long for him to pry the answer from Stein: the Demon Sword’s black blood had mixed with Soul’s, and the consequences of such were still unknown.
“It will be interesting to see what happens,” Stein admitted.
“Interesting? What the hell do you mean interesting? My daughter’s life could be at risk here, Stein!”
The madman blew out a puff of smoke. “There’s nothing to be so worried about. I believe that Maka and Soul will both be fine. It may not be an easy road, but they will make it through.”
Spirit glared at him. “Is there nothing you can do to stop it? Or are you just choosing not to so that you can see what happens?” he asked.
“The former,” the meister said plainly, not offering any more explanation. Silence fell between them, and Spirit felt himself starting to shake again. “Your worry won’t help them,” the madman said, “The best thing you can do is put your faith in them.”
“I have plenty of faith. If anyone can beat this, it’s my Maka.”
“Then what has you so unnerved?”
Spirit swallowed hard, looking down each end of the hallway as if in hope of escape. “This operation,” he said quietly, “It wouldn’t have been possible when we were students. It’s possible because of you.”
“And because of you, as well.”
“Don’t give me any credit,” he growled, “I don’t deserve it.”
Stein took a long drag of his cigarette, then let out a deep sigh. “You felt it, too, didn’t you?” he asked, “During the fight with the Demon Sword?”
Spirit nodded. “Nothing’s even changed between us.”
“Not at all.”
“Why not?” he asked before he thought.
The pause that followed was long—the tension could’ve been cut into pieces with a butter knife or, maybe more realisticly, a scalpel. Spirit closed his eyes hard, wishing he could take back the question. Neither of them would ever have an answer, of course, and they both knew it. The not knowing was killing him… he couldn’t imagine what it was doing to Stein.
The silver-haired man shrugged smally, not saying anything, and started to walk away without another word. Finally looking up, Spirit reached forward and grabbed him by the wrist, halting him.
“I’m sorry,” Spirit said finally, the words falling hopelessly from his lips.
“You have no need to be,” Stein replied, not so much as turning to look at him.
“I do. I should have stood up for you. Instead, I let everyone think you were some sort of lunatic. You could’ve been expelled from the academy because of me, or worse! And I wasn’t even man enough to face you afterwards.”
“You think I didn’t know that would happen?” the madman said coldly. He finally turned to face him, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose to conceal his eyes. “I calculated the risk in my actions from the very beginning, Spirit. I knew you’d let me cut you open, and I knew you’d burn me back for it. I made you choose between your reputation and me, and you chose exactly as I expected.”
“Then why do it? Why ever risk it to begin with? Didn’t you… didn’t you care at all about what we had?”
Stein sighed a wispy, skull-like puff of smoke into the air in front of him. “I needed to know.”
Spirit felt his posture loosen, his very foundation shattered by the sound of the meister’s voice. A bystander may have brushed it off, but the dull drop in Stein’s voice was something that Spirit could feel in his soul. He could still remember Stein’s words all those years ago: “I’m doing it to know.” It had never struck him as strange before. Knowledge was all that ever seemed to matter to Stein. But Spirit had never realized before that Stein’s real experiment had little to do with the meticulous incisions and stitches, little to do with the glory of scientific discovery. He was studying Spirit, yes, but it was far more than just his body.
“And what did you learn?” the weapon asked quietly.
“I learned that you would choose your reputation over me,” he replied plainly, “As I expected you would. It was comforting to know I was correct.”
“Comforting to know I would betray you?”
Stein seemed to choke back a laugh. “I’ve never viewed myself as a victim, Spirit, and I’d appreciate if you stopped insinuating as much,” he replied, “But, if you must know, the experiment ran a bit deeper than that. It was about love.”
Spirit’s eyebrows furrowed downward, a confused look coming over him. “Love? What are you on about?”
The mad scientist shrugged. “It’s not something I have ever understood, really, but I know it exists. I always doubted that I was capable of feeling such a thing, so I tested it. I concluded that if I still cared about you despite your act of betrayal, then it must’ve been what people call love. There was no other way to test it than to let you betray me.”
“And… what did you learn?” he asked again, his voice trembling.
“That love is an idiotic thing. It exists without reason and without purpose, and it defies all logic.”
Spirit finally let go of his wrist, letting his arm drop down to his side. He tried to meet Stein’s eyes, but the glare of his glasses prevented it. He felt his face start to burn red. “You’re an idiot,” he said, turning around with a pout.
“Maybe so,” he replied. “I have work to finish up here. Meet me later for dinner? I’d like to discuss our options about the Demon Sword.”
Spirit nodded, realizing again that it felt as if nothing had changed between them. “Of course. I’ll see you then.”
Hope y'all know i just read the US park services lighthouse keeper manual from 1927 front to back for lore accuracy
The lighthouse keeper Daniel x mermaid Armand fic gonna be LIT (cuz Daniel is required to check on the lantern at least twice from 8pm to sunrise, or monitor it all night in the case of a storm)
i keep having the craziest devil's minion au ideas....
like, what if Daniel was a homicide detective and Armand was the murder victim he's investigating?
like, Armand wouldn't actually be dead but he WOULD be beheaded, so he has to lie comatose in the morgue until his head can reattach itself. so of course everyone thinks he's a dead body
and he has a bunch of fake IDs with the names Arun, Armand, Andrei, etc. so the investigative team just calls him "A"
Daniel has to investigate his documents, clothes, wounds, scars, etc. to try to solve the murder
but as soon as he gets close to finding the answer.... the body disappears from the morgue 👀
Y'all.... writing from middle-aged Daniel's POV is FUCKING HARD!!!
How do I find a balance between "horny on main, crying little puppy, turned on by having his life threatened" young Daniel and "tired of your bullshit, failed husband and father, pretends he's not gay" old Daniel???
How does a man, freshly divorced for the second time (undeniably his fault), think about the world around him?
I think I am possibly the least qualified person to write about his demographic 😭
After a very long wait... Chapter 3 of my Lighthouse Keeper Daniel x Siren Armand fic is posted! 🧜♂️🚣♂️
it's mostly weird porn ngl
Tags & summary below!
Walking straight into the sea (12,315 words) by roan_writes
Chapters: 3/?
Fandom: Interview with the Vampire (TV 2022)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Armand/Daniel Molloy
Characters: Armand (Vampire Chronicles), Daniel Molloy
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Mermaid Armand, Sirens, Lighthouse Keeper Daniel Molloy, Human Daniel Molloy, Middle-Aged Daniel Molloy, MerMay, MerMay 2026, Cannibalism, not really cannibalism but ya know, Interspecies Relationship(s), Mermaid Sex, Non-Human Genitalia, Horror, Gore, Inspired by The Lighthouse (2019), Alternate Universe - 1920s, Graphic Description of Corpses, Erotic Horror, Dream Sex, Dubious Consent, Consensual Non-Consent, Intersex Mermaids, for horny reasons only, there will be no mpreg/eggs/etc, Possessive Armand (Vampire Chronicles), Biting Kink, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con
Summary:
There, hidden among the dark waves, is the face of a man. He’s submerged up to his nose, but Daniel can see his long dark hair, his eyes glowing like twin flames. Daniel jerks away, nearly dropping his lantern into the ocean. The swinging light reflects off the man’s eyes, like some sort of nocturnal predator.
As quickly as he came, the creature is gone. His head silently sinks beneath the waves.
Daniel hears that familiar song, that haunting laughter. He knows, without a doubt, that it’s him. Daniel’s dreamwalker, his shark with a human face, his siren.
Daniel Molloy takes a job as a lighthouse keeper on the coast of Maine after his second divorce. But there is a monster in Castine Bay, and Daniel can't stop dreaming about it.
walk with me here. Armand retreats back to Night Island after he "lost" Daniel. To assuage his loneliness, he welcomes and sleeps with any visiting vampire who would have him (re: my past two posts on Armand's implied hypersexuality), but they always leave him eventually
Khayman visits Night Island during this time. (with Maharet? i can't remember what he's doing at this point in the story lol) Of course, Khayman and Armand sleep together. But Khayman is soooo soft for Armand, he stays for a while and tries to reassure Armand that he is not alone and that there are people who love him. It (maybe) helps a bit
Eventually Khayman has to leave or Armand wanders away from Night Island, to follow canon. But I think they deserve to have a brief, sweet romance ❤️
