❛ onlymeljay microfics

prompts from @flashfictionfridayofficial and @meljaymicrofics "give it time" and "proximity"

relationship: Jayce/Mel, brief mentions Mel & Kino, Mel & Elora

word count: 1,051

content warning: mentions of character death(s), hurt/no comfort

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It had been nearly twenty years. More than half of her life and Mel still broke into a breathless sweat at the sound of carriages rolling down cobblestone roads. The sound of horses squeals and screams in acute distress. Those have been few and far between, but even the calm of huffs and neighs were no different. In private she found it humiliating, shameful how weak her knees went.

Leaving it on her face she could never do.

Instead she steels herself, stiffens her spine and puts one foot in front of the other. Mel firmly decided she preferred walking most places, eternally grateful Piltover's designed to be a walkable city.

Earlier that year, the same year she lost her father, Mel was witness to the execution of Binan noble Lady Mion; the girl's head hitting the ground with three sloppy wet smacks before rolling to Mel's feet at an achingly slow pace. Her feet took her back in a shuffle at the sight. Lady Mion couldn't have been more than a year or two older than Mel herself. Upon her mother's swift action, Mel found eyes once green, a shade not too dissimilar to her very own, open blank to a lifeless void.

A river of blood staining the earth flowed from Lady Mion's neck, permanently eroding the flooring of the Kumangran castle.

Mel could have done something— anything. Maybe she could have saved the other girl. But her words weren't enough: not against her mother's might. Nearly every fiber of her being twitched to bend down and close Lady Mion's eyes.

But she couldn't— especially not in the presence of her mother. Her katar glistening with still warm blood. Instead Mel immortalized Mion's crimson vitality along with the creams and turquoise of her necklace on tapestry.

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Several years had passed since her mother told her about her brother's death. Agonizing as they had been for searches for any sign of Kino came up fruitless, leaving Mel with countless unanswerable questions, cursed to forever linger in the back of her mind.

What exactly happened to him and when? Was he all alone? Was he in pain? In the years since she was exiled, had he received any of her letters? Respond to them? Or at least try to?

When Mel was cast away to Piltover, she had only a quick farewell to share with her brother— the ship she was bound for was to leave that very night and there was little time for preparation. At least she was able to speak with him: their mother was able to at least grant that mercy. Blurred by swelling tears, Mel still managed to remember his warm scent, lanky arms holding her close as possible as an anchoring weight. Even the wiry scratches of a beard not fully connected yet tickled her forehead.

Mel convinced herself she'd be reuinted with her family again soon.

That soon never came.

Instead the earth and its possibiliites of a brighter future, a kinder one, a warmer one, crumbled beneath her feet, leaving behind a chasm.

Your brother is gone.

A loss of a part of her heart never to return to her. Hosting rites with her mother without his body but with this certain… strain between the two of them was a hollow symbol of closure. She was pointedly aware of its superficiality. A brittle house ready to crumble at the faintest breeze.

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It had been nearly a year since he disappeared. Since Noxian troops invaded Piltover's shores. Since Jayce's soul vanished into an oblivion her sigils could not reach. No matter how hard she tried.

There was a time when Mel believed Noxus was her home. One day she would make a name for herself in Piltover, prove herself to her mother her values had merit and she could return home.

Times change.

Before she knew it, home took on a different color. Slowly sneaking up on her to wholly pull her under in a warm embrace.

It was the steadiness Elora gave her in her youth during a time of loss and redisocvering her place in a foreign land. The cups of tea she brewed for her when nights in her council chambers ran long reviewing policies, writing proposals, and the like. Elora knew what Mel needed, at times even before Mel even knew herself.

It was the uncontrollable fire in Jayce Talis's heart. His spirit threw her off kilter, someone so recklessly ambitious, yet she found it frustratingly fascinating. Him capturing her eye in his own desire to leave a mark in helping the public. Someone who reminded her it was okay to feel. That being your true self was more than enough. That she was enough.

Without her conscious knowing, she started making room on the left side of the bed for him to take. A spare toothbrush when he spent the night at her estate. And drawers for his own clothes so he wouldn't need to worry about what to wear come sunrise.

The very same applied when she desired to be with him. To venture a life outside the path of a Medarda.

Almost a year since.

Since his presence next to her soothed her nightmares.

Since he rested his head in her lap and allowed her to see his own weights and strains melt away if for a quiet moment.

It has been a long, excruciating year.

Mel still leaves room on the left side of the bed. She has yet to abandon the toothbrush he'd use when he'd stay over.

"Time heals all wounds." At least that's what people said in times of loss. The further one was from the aching strain, one day, eventually, new memories and experiences would paint over the tenderness in one's heart. A blurred memory distorted and dulled by time.

But Mel knew better. Such a saying was nothing more than an empty platitude people said because they didn't know what to say. They never did.

Instead, grief curses Mel to replay events over and over again. She humorlessly laughs at the butterfly effect's intimate impact. Time doesn't heal wounds— only compounds it.

— Happy Birthday Onlymeljay! 🌺

We're celebrating a year of our community; creating together, lovely chats, fun movie nights and of course: much to love about Meljay.

This week will be filled with daily polls and activities to celebrate our birthday and our love for this ship. 🪻

— Happy Spring Meljaylings! 🌺🪻

The anniversary of the OnlyMeljay opening is just around the corner, and you’re invited to the party! Join us starting March 23, 2026 for a weeklong in-server celebration of the Meljay community we’ve fostered and the way we’ve grown since. 🌼

Are you excited? We are! Look forward to what we've got in store, and to what will come in year two. Nothing feels impossible with you all!

For @meljaymicrofics March 2026 Prompts: Early bloom, Interwoven, Tether

≫ Word Count: 1,716

≫ Summary: According to Piltovan legend, fairies are born when a baby laughs for the first time. They also have the ability to bond with humans through their kisses. One spring evening during his childhood, Jayce finds out first-hand that both legends are true.

≫ Mini Playlist: Click Here

≫ Notes: Tried to keep this under 1K words but I simply could not lol, there were too many details I wanted to add

For @meljaymicrofics February 2026 Prompts #15 and #20: Longing, Ink-stained hands

≫ Word Count: 999

≫ Summary: On a lonely night in Noxus, Mel finds a way to remember her lost love.

≫ Warnings: Deals with grief, nightmares, and past character death.

For @meljaymicrofics February 2026 Prompts #4 and #19: Promise, Force of Nature

≫ Word Count: 998

≫ Summary: “You are the reason, the reason I'm alive I must bring you honor If I don't, I'll die."

In which Jayce survives season two and goes to Noxus with Mel. There, they navigate the depths of their brokenness together.

≫ Warnings: PTSD, Panic attacks

For @meljaymicrofics February 2026 Prompt #6: Tender (because Mel is tender headed lol)

≫ Word Count: 1000

≫ Summary: Two times Mel gets her hair braided by someone she loves.

≫ Warnings: None

✦💕 PROMPTS ⸻ FEBRUARY 2026!

Hello lovelies! This February is gearing up to be a month filled with love! Can you feel it in the air? Eager to join in? Here are some prompts to inspire writers and artists! You are welcome to switch any of the days with one another. We are looking forward to seeing you in the tag on February 1st!

Interested in participating? Check out the FAQ under the cut!

@flashfictionfridayofficial x @meljaymicrofics "No happy endings" and "resolve"

relationship: Jayce Talis/Mel Medarda

rating: T (cw: hurt/little comfort)

summary: what would anyone do for the nightmares to stop?

The night was to be the time of peace, of stillness. A time to reset when the demands of the day are multi-directional and ever enduring. Such wasn't for Mel.

Her mind wasn't one to still easily, plagued by visions that would leave her in a cold sweat, clutching at her chest. If she could physically reach into her chest and apply forcible pressure to calm her racing heart, she would.

The storylines most nights were different, but the arising disturbance in her spirit was the same and a feat to shake the following day.

Several nights before, she found herself reverted to a younger version of herself, no older than ten or twelve summers, seated in her mother's lap. She pressed a tender kiss to Mel's forehead while her arms held onto her a fraction tighter.

Mel closed her eyes, leaning into the beating of her mother's heartbeat by her ear.

Until she couldn't.

By the time she realized and opened her eyes, her mother's warmth abandoned her: the earth became the skies and the skies the earth. Mel tries to scream and reach for her mother, but it's to no avail: vocal cords are stripped and her mother's turned away.

A sacrifice to a god Mel's become.

This night surrounded by darkness Mel stands alone. Before her sculpted in the skies is a figure of a wolf's head. An eerie glow burns in its eyes and forehead. Flanking its sides are two more like it. Muzzles open to a snarl, baring teeth, but unmoving and saying nothing.

A flash of recognition strikes her studying the figures in the skies. Yes, it is them— the very ones for whom she was an offering some nights back.

No longer small but her grown age, Mel feels a warmth swirl in her gut and traverse outward for waves of light to flare off the sigils mapping her body in pulses. Curling her hands to fists, she readies herself to strike. She is unsure how or why, but every instinct tells her this is wrong and she has to take them down.

Launching herself in the air, her stomach rises in her ribcage and she hits them with everything she's got at all angles.

Gently returning to the earth, dust kicks up in a small radius about her feet, until she carefully reigns in her magic. The spots where the light beat off her skin is a lingering burn and she hisses— she has yet to acclimate to her magic's strength.

In waiting for the sensations to fade she checks at the sky. Her heart sinks to the pit of her guts.

Nothing.

Not so much as a single sign of any damage.

She had given it all she could! There must be something she's missing; something she could do. Mel racks her brain with different iterations of her fate she knows. Once she comes to, she looks to the ground then slowly draws her eyes back up to the skies.

For the swirling storm up above, only a light strong and sharp enough could cut it clean. Mel stretches her ribcage with a deep inhale. The usually golden light on Mel's skin turns a blinding white and she lets out a scream.

"…Mel…"

"Mel!"

Holding her chest, spots swim across Mel's vision. Her head feels light and dizzying and her eyes dart around, desperate to make sense of where she is. The dark enveloping her makes it difficult to parse what makes her surroundings, but soon enough her eyes adjust.

The grand armoire to her far right and next to it her vanity. Further down a vast window to let in daylight. For the night curtains were drawn but at its hemline a thin sliver of moonlight could be traced. To her left, the entryway to the en suite bathroom and closer is Jayce.

He's seated in their bed beside her, quiet but eyes holding concern unspoken.

When she eventually meets his gaze, her face breaks to a watery smile.

"Another bad dream?" he braves to ask.

She doesn't answer him right away. Instead she looks down at the space between them—the gold on her hand propping her up glimmers when she tilts it certain angles. Gratefully, it doesn't burn, not right now, and not even when the tips of Jayce's fingers carefully lace with hers.

She slips her fingers out from his in favor of cupping his cheek, feeling its warmth and traversing her fingers down his neck and chest.

"Hi," she pants.

Jayce squeezes Mel's hands, pulling them to his lips faintly.

"Come with me."

Donning proper bottoms and a shift, Jayce and Mel respectively move from their bedroom for a light stroll.

Jayce is all too familiar with incessant nightmares. His are different then Mel's, but the wear they cast on the mind and spirit is all the same.

Forcing sleep would be futile. If anything fresh air and a reminder of each other's company could do them good.

Mel worries. About her family. Her family's enemies. About uncovered truths, and what'll become of her out of all this.

Jayce worries, too. Of eternal damnation, of losing himself, and of losing her.

There's a gut-wrenching ache that comes with every time such concerns are verbalized. So this night, they don't. Instead they hold each other's hand, moving together side by side, carrying only light conversations and the shuffling of each step.

Sleep doesn't come to them; they walk the halls until the ache in Jayce's leg is impossible to ignore. There is a couch nearby to rest, his leg propped on an ottoman and her head on his shoulder.

At this angle Jayce can't quite tell if Mel is starting to fall asleep on his shoulder or not.

The sun would rise soon.

— 'tis the season to Onlymeljay! 🔔

Unsure what to do with your creativity this month? How about being a Secret Santa? Signups are still open until the 4th of December.

Further information about the Meljay Secret Santa Fest can be found following the attached link. If you're interested in being someones Secret Santa make sure to join our server and fill our participation form!