the loumand microfic event last year was so fun and there was way more participation than i could've ever hoped for, so here's part 2! it's slightly different this time around but the general rules and idea is the same: to provide inspiration for people to create something.

the event is being held by @baadshahh again, and will be occuring alongside the s3 episodes, which means it will be running for seven weeks. a weekly prompt will drop every sunday. the word count will be gradually increasing every week as a way for people to stretch their wings a little bit. the prompts can be found here.

week one: june 7, 100 words

week two: june 14, 200 words

week three: june 21, 300 words

week four: june 28, 400 words

week five: july 5, 500 words

week six: july 12, 600 words

week seven: july 19, 700 words

rules:

the word counts are more fun suggestions than anything, so don't be worried about going over or under!

there are no deadlines for this event, so you can write for whatever prompt you want even after the week is up

the prompts are pre-planned and won't be related to the episode (except coincidentally). the fics don't have to correspond to the events of the episode of the week at all, but they can if you want

fics do not have to take place during a specific time, they can be anywhere before, during, or after the show

if you post your fics on tumblr, please use the #loumandmicroficevent26 tag and @ this blog! submissions will be reblogged onto this account

please provide which prompt you're answering somewhere on your post, as it allows me to keep this blog organized with a tagging system

louis/armand from the show is the main focus of the event, but including other background pairings with louis or armand is fine considering the nature of the show. however, loumand should be the main focus

aus are accepted and so is jacob/assad rpf (the one exception to the previous rule because we need to get those numbers up)

please be mindful of how you portray certain topics. race, abuse, sexual assault, and other heavy subject matter are core to the show and should be shown respectfully

these prompts are meant to serve as inspiration, and other kinds of mediums are accepted, such as art, edits, webweaves, etc.

if you do end up posting on ao3, i'd love if you could post the link on tumblr and tag this account so i can reblog and boost it

askbox is open for questions/comment/concerns/clarifications

Arun Armand's letter to Louis (that hey may or may not ever read).

Read here.

"Sorry, do I bore you?"

Armand blinked slowly at Louis' odd query.

"What?" The older vampire inquired, brows creasing.

"Am I boring you?" Louis repeated. "We can discuss the new acquisitions tomorrow. It's fine."

"No no. I'm listening. You were saying, about the Paul Berthon?"

"With the recent exhibition on Mucha at the Grand Palais I think we should refrain and acquire the Margaret MacDonald instead, less of a blatant ressemblance and far more interesting use of texture and roundness, it's—"

Armand's gaze narrowed ever so slightly, lips parting as he brought a hand to his chest, digit absentmindedly brushing over his own heart as he listened to Louis' pumping someone else's blood away. The older vampire was considering, the possibility of ripping it out, fully claiming it for himself. Louis' heart. Oh to be the final owner...

Perhaps he could do away with the lungs too. Vampires didn't really need them anyway.

And perhaps then, perhaps then, there would be enough space for Armand in there. He'd once been taught to curl himself in ways contortionists could only dream of, and was certainly more comfortable chopping away unecessary body parts that most should it come down to it...

God, to be in there, beneath Louis' skin, to be not his but of him. To belong there, forever. To erase all that isn't Armand in his head, and to be, his body. Be of his Louis, his Maître, not as an other half but as a necessary part. Never to be separated. How wonderful...

Almost panting, Armand's tongue peered out, just slightly, before he sighed. "You're right Louis, you always are. MacDonald it is."

Louis looked at Armand for a beat, seemingly searching for something in those eyes and finding nothing but restraint wrapped in docile acceptance. So fucking boring.

divider credit to @/thecutestgrotto

I always end up posting on the final day for some reason, Idk. Still, it's out. 300 words exactly for @loumandmicrofic 2026!

This was my first time taking part in an event for the IWTV fandom, and I had an great time writing for the weekly prompts for the past 7 weeks!

If you'd like to read my entries, you can find all of my prompts for the challenge on AO3 under LadyWithAnErmine.

Individual fics listed below ↓↓↓

Return to sender (Week 1, Distance/Refusal): Armand reaches out once a year.

All that is left (Week 2, House/Haunting): Some time after Paris, Louis begins to sleepwalk.

Night of the hunter (Week 3, Hunt/Contain): Whenever Armand noticed Louis losing interest in the things that made eternity bearable, he knew it was time to put their game in motion again.

A guiding hand (Week 4, Shatter/Smoke): Louis is taught the fire gift in an unusual way.

A promise made under the stones (Week 5, Chivalry/Oath): Louis remembers an oath he made to himself.

A Denial of Companioship (Week 6, Kiss/Fist): Louis denies that he and Armand are companions in front of the coven. A discussion ensues.

For the @loumandmicrofic event! I imagine this is set during the "our young friends" era of their relationship. TW: blood, implied violence/murder, potentially dubious consent.

Louis’ mean tonight. A vein in Armand’s temple pulses, and he feels it also in his throat, his chest, his thigh. He is aware of the blood in his body as in others’ and tonight is fat with it, though the apartment is trashed. That will be Armand’s business too, later — but not now, though he notes the stains on the good chair, smeared footsteps of running that didn’t get very far, the bare legs emerging from behind a sofa. Armand tracks Louis, the smell of cologne and cigarettes under blood. It’s on his arms, the front of his shirt, splashes even up to his ears, but he had not fed; indulged himself in other ways. Louis’ mean tonight. “I can fuck ‘em, and you can eat ‘em. And I can eat you.” Inside his head are echoes loud enough for Armand to hear. Like this, buzzy, looking for a fight, he doesn’t even think to suppress them. Armand could take what was and empty it out, fill it with himself instead. Will it be enough, he wonders? Will Louis ever let all his trying be enough? “Oh, with the face,” Louis says. “Big sad eyes like a cat in a box on the corner, in the parking lot of the supermarket. Didn’t you get enough tonight?” “Blood, yes.” Louis flinches away from him, just to be cruel, but Armand fills the space; Louis allows Armand’s tongue to trace over the blood streaking his throat. It’s old already, tastes of nothing. Louis’ pulse quickens. Armand still has that, desire. “Did you? Get enough?” Louis’ fangs push at his lips and tongue. He didn’t, of course. “Where will you have it?” Armand loosens his collar and Louis shoves him, suddenly, down onto his back. Armand watches. Louis reaches for his belt.

Written for week one of the 2026 Loumand Microfic Event @loumandmicrofic for the prompt "distance/refusal"

Also on AO3

loumand microfic event 2026

prompt: distance/refusal (100 words)

also available on ao3!

Armand shifts ever so slightly closer to Louis. He sweeps his hair from his neck, baring it in the cold air of their bedroom.

Louis doesn't glance up from his book. His jaw works, but he says nothing.

Hurt flares inside him, quick and fierce. Louis would give him whatever he wants, Armand knows, if only he would ask.

But Armand wants to be silent. Wants the tilt of his head or the angle of his body to be enough. It once was.

Louis flips to the next page. Armand turns on the sheets, curls inward, and shuts his eyes.

Armand cuts a deep line on his wrist—but Louis turns pointedly away.

‘Please. You need more if you want to heal.’

Louis can walk again, but his skin remains a charred patchwork of partially healed burns.

The blood drips, ignored, the only sound in the dark room.