#arcane microfics

✦🍾 PROMPTS ⸻ JANUARY 2026!

Cheers to a new year! We are back, and right in time with prompts for the month of January! You are welcome to switch any of the days with one another. We are looking forward to seeing you in the tag on January 1st!

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

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Jayce (League of Legends)/Mel Medarda Characters: Jayce (League of Legends) Additional Tags: Mentioned Mel Medarda, Jayce-centric (League of Legends), Jayce Needs a Hug (League of Legends), Mentioned Viktor (League of Legends), Mentioned Ximena Talis, Jayce in the chasm, Canon Compliant, Hallucinations, Blood and Injury, meljay, Angst, Goldenforge, Spoilers for Act 3 (Arcane), Not Beta Read, Meljay Forever Summary:

Jayce dreams of her in feverish fits of sleep. Of the warmth of her skin against his. Arms wrapped tightly around him.

When he wakes, Mel is gone.

✦🏖️ PROMPTS ⸻ JUNE 2025!

It's getting hot in here!! Feel the heat with these June prompts! You are welcome to switch any of the days with one another. We are looking forward to seeing you in the tag on June 1st!

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

✦🪻 PROMPTS ⸻ MAY 2025!

Here are the prompts for the marvelous month of May. Feel free to switch any of the days with one another. We are looking forward to seeing you in the tag on May 1st!

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

❛ MARK YOUR CALENDARS !

The Unseelie queen has always been unfeeling. Cold. Colder still, than her daughter. The fae-child she sends to the newly minted queen of the Seelie as an envoy. As a diplomatic hostage. The price one must pay for peace is always a life, a reality that will never cease to be true.

Mel, child of the house of Might, is an outsider. Weak in everything but her name. Her mother sends her to the Seelie Queen Karma in hopes, no doubt, that she will die in their hands. That she may make war on her daughter’s behalf. That is Mel’s place in this game. That is her birthright.

The Seelie do not treat her diplomatically. Mel stands at the edges of rooms, watching. Waiting. Teeth bared in false smiles, daggers unsheathed behind their backs and poison dripping from their lips. Honey and blood drips from her own, and she dreams of their throats ripped out. Hanging between her jaws.

There is something enticing in the forbidden. A lesson taught to her by LeBlanc, the master of secrets of the Unseelie Court. The Seelie gravitate to it like sprites to a flame, and within this court of warmth and sunlight, she is the most forbidden a faerie can get. She grows into this knowledge as she grows into her autonomy. Grows into her dark seduction and sets her web of glittering eyes and night soft smiles. They do not see a predator, so used they are to her. So entranced by her.

Mel sups at their secrets like ambrosia. Inhales their hatred for their lowborn Seelie queen, feasts on the disquiet and disloyalty flowing in the undercurrent of the Unseelie court. She kisses her victims for their troubles.

Hers is a magic subtle, difficult to understand. It is a magic of feeling, of motive, of mind. Delicate nuance that her mother to which her mother remains seemingly impervious. However, the Seelie Court are not her mother.

Their prince is naive—the sweet sort of naive— too young to know war, old enough to know pleasure. He does not play the Seelie game well, cannot deceive like all his brethren. Yet he uses truth like a weapon. This Mel admires him for. He is out of her reach, and then not. Tangled in snare of her making.

She learns his name as their tongues are intertwined. Jayce— breathless and full of wonder.

There are a set of consequences to every action, Mel knows this. In the aftermath of their liaison, the world tips and then lurches. Whether in her favor or against, Mel finds herself at a loss to decide. The Seelie watch as their besotted prince finds her at the corner of every room. Makes it his purpose to bring her into the spotlight in until she shines just as brightly as he.

I may yet be the end of you, golden boy— she says this into the shell of his hair as he sweeps her around the hall. She feels light, weightless. Her fingers dip into the curls at his nape, a tether. Come away stained with gold. His smile drowns the world away as he draws her closer.

Hwei awaits her in the shadows of her chamber, pale as moonlight and grim as grief. Samira stands at his elbow, teeth bared. You stink of Seelie— a hiss Mel might have anticipated from the Seelie. But from the Unseelie court… It is a blow Mel reels from.

Mel turns her back to them. She does not allow them to see her weak as she takes the mother of pearl pins from her hair. You’ve come for secrets, I presume? — she asks. Hears the near silence movement of feet against the floor as Hwei moves to help her.

She wants the princeling. Arrange it.— His voice is soft, a pool of moonsong. His fingers cold against her scalp. And Mel knows what they must have heard. She, the glittering, cold-hearted princess of the Unseelie. Him, a prince of the Seelie, lively and carefree. Any connection Mel forms is one her mother makes through her. They are all pieces in a game.

What is her purpose? To take him will be an act of war. — Her eyes close as she steels herself. Sixty years she has spent here, out of place in the Court of Light and Beauty. And in an act of selfishness, her sacrifice rendered useless.

They have killed the heir; there will be war regardless. — Hwei responds, bony hands dropping to her shoulders. The room grows smaller with every word he utters. This is your order. Take him or kill him.

Mel swallows, something sick and ugly thick in her throat. Then they will kill me. I will burn for her wrath. For her rage. The Seelie had long awaited an opportunity. Fear, twisting and burning in the pit of her stomach.