#meljaymicrofics

How does Meljay Microfics work?

We’ll release a monthly prompt list to inspire you! Each microfic must feature Mel Medarda & Jayce Talis from Arcane. Meljay can be platonic friends, lovers, enemies, or whatever dynamic you are inclined to write them in. The microfic must be Meljay-centric to be featured on this blog.

How long can the microfics be?

We invite you to write a work of fiction with a wordcount under 1k. Therefore, your work should be a standalone, meant to be read without having to read a larger work so that readers can enjoy it to the fullest.

What should the fic be about? 

Whatever you want! Canon or AU, crack or general use the prompt however you see fit. Any genre is accepted! You can combine prompts, if you’d like. How you use the prompt is up to your interpretation! Let your muse move you.

You don’t have to write for every prompt of the month. There’s no pressure here, no commitment. This is just for fun. 

There are no stipulations on ratings, just be sure to add appropriate tags & content warnings to the top of post. If there is NSFW or sensitive topics in your piece, be sure to place it under a read more.

How do I get my work featured?

If you participate, we’d love to see your work! Tag us @meljaymicrofics & tag your work with #meljaymicrofics or #onlymeljay, and we’ll reblog your fic! Be sure to include the prompt word you were inspired by within the post!

There’s also an AO3 COLLECTION that you can post your microfics to if interested.

Can I submit a prompt?

Yes! Feel free to send it in, and we’ll include it in the next month’s list if we can.

Do you allow AI works?

AI works are prohibited and will not be reblogged onto the blog or accepted within the collection. We value your creativity here.

What if I have a question/suggestion.

He opened a leather satchel, withdrawing a jagged crystal—a Hexcore, filled with unstable energy. "It could power cities. Save lives. But it's… incomplete. Like it's missing a soul."

A laugh echoed in the chamber. "You seek to bind divinity to mortal craft?" She descended, her bare feet leaving trails of gold. "The last man who tried became a cautionary tale."

Jayce's jaw clenched. "I'm not him."

No. He wasn't. His soul burned brighter, a flame in the dark. Mel traced a finger over the Hexcore. "To temper this, you'd need both god's and mortals essence. A dangerous union."

"Take mine."

Her hand froze. "You would… offer yourself?"

"If that's the price." He met her eyes, unflinching. "I've read the myths. Power demands sacrifice."

A beat. Then, Mel smiled. Arrogant. Deliciously so. She cradled the Hexcore, and it shone under her touch, lines aligning as her essence seeped into its core. Then she pressed it to his chest, and he gasped—not in pain, but in awe. Gold went up his arms, binding them both with it.

"Not sacrifice," she murmured. "Partnership."

The chamber dissolved. Visions surged: Jayce's hands sculpting steel, Mel's voice guiding each strike; nights where the boundaries of flesh and myth blurred, her lips mapping the glow beneath his skin. He became her vessel, she his muse. Together, they led Piltover to wonders, to success

But mortals age. It was one of their faults. Years led to lines on Jayce's face, while Mel remained eternal. One of the nights, he found her in the Atrium, her back rigid. "You're leaving." It wasn't a question.

He smiled, weary. "You always knew I would."

A god's heart does not break. It shatters. Mel grasped his hands, her gold dimming. "Stay. I could make you—"

"Mine." The word cracked like thunder. Yet Jayce kissed her palm, a farewell. "A myth's all I'll be. But you… you'll be real. For them."

When dawn gilded Piltover's towers, the Hexgate hummed—a monument to a mortal who dared to ask a God for help. And in the stars, a new constellation showed up: a hammer, eternal.

Mel, alone, touched the space in the sky and understood the cruel poetry of mortals.

“Have a goodnight, Jayce,” Mel said, slipping from his side once they two were within reach of Mel’s residence. 

“Until next time?” There was a sweet lilt in his question, elevated on vulnerable hope of a first date gone well.

Mel’s lips pressed tightly, a losing fight against the smile that was beginning to peek through the corners of her mouth. Only when she closed the door to her family’s estate at hardly the width of one’s palm, did she peek back at him through the crack with a sultry look. “Until next time.”

And that was the beginning of their relationship. From the first date, to the next one, and the one after that, it became a running habit between Mel and Jayce to never really say “goodbye.” Only “until next time.”

Goodbyes were terribly finite. A slamming shut of a certain chapter, uncertainty riddled in what would lay ahead. 

“Until next time” gave them a glimmer of hope. They would cling onto that in their moments apart. The cheesy gesture may have made their close friends cringe at the sappiness, but who mattered? In the end it would be the two of them realizing they wanted to go through life with the other. 

Grow through life.

When Mel continued her studies at University of Piltover studying poliitical science and economics, Jayce studied engineering at University of Zaun while also part of their Reserve Officer’s Training program. Even though their respective universities were but a few blocks apart, their academic rigor was straining on the time they could spend together. 

It only made the moments they could share even more valuable.

Until next time.

When they walked across their respective stages, they easily searched for the other, drawn to them as a ship to a lighthouse in the night. Maybe soon there was hope for the chaos to settle down.

And for a certain time, it did. 

Mel was able to land a decent job in the city and Jayce was still stationed locally to continue training and further education.

While several of Mel’s friends laid concerns with Jayce’s career to be in the military, Mel answered to them effortlessly, assuaging their concerns. Jayce was primarily based in their home territory, not needing to be deployed. Though he did follow the training structure of recruits, it was part of protocol when enrolling. His job was in providing technical support. Not on the battlefield.

And that was the truth. 

Once they made it out of university and made names for themselves in their careers, there was serious consideration of their future together. Result of it came to a ring that looked at home on Mel’s ring finger. 

And then another not much longer after.

But a year into their marriage, futures started to fracture. Global conflicts were escalating and the fears of Jayce getting involved could only be held at bay for so long. Time ran up for him on what was once a beautiful Saturday morning with his wife and he went to check the mail.

Moving through the hallway to check on him, realizing he was taking an oddly long amount of time, Mel reached out asking, “What is it, darling?” 

The pale look on Jayce’s face told her everything. 

As fast as a heart beat, Mel was beside her husband. The hand cupping his cheek thumbed delicately at the high point while the other’s fingers interlocked with his, steadying them both while the hole beneath them got bigger and bigger.

Jayce’s deployment wasn’t until another month. It was estimated he would be needed overseas for about six months. They would have to make the most of what they had. 

Until next time. 

While Jayce was overseas, they wrote letters. Almost daily. They would be received in lump bunches, but neither of them cared about the logistics. When able to, Mel assembled care packages for Jayce, lifting spirits and connecting them as best they could in the trying times of war.

It was five months into Jayce's deployment when instead of a box of letters sitting on Mel’s doorstep, two men in uniform with their caps over their hearts stood before her.

Until next time.

That’s what we said. What we always said. 

Until next time.

Right? Jayce?

Jayce?

Jayce!

Deaf and blind to the world around her, Mel could hardly process neither the sensation of the men holding her up nor the strain in her voice crying for her husband over and over again.

There wasn’t even a body or tag for Mel to hold onto. Only the alleged story of him being caught in a minefield doing machinery repair. Not even on the battlefield. He was supposed to be safe, away from warzones, focusing on his support work.

But war spared no family. 

The hellish pain was an inescapable prison. On all accounts it tore Mel apart from the seams. ‘Until next time’ ran through her head as a horrid incantration. Knowing just how easy it could be to set that timeline for her. 

Accelerate it.

It hurt to die just as much to live. In the midst of it all a glimmer of knowing Jayce carried on in not only the rest of his friends and family, but the love they carried kept Mel going. 

Especially during the harder days.

The missed birthdays, anniversaries, holidays–

And of course the “anniversary” of his death.

Mel was seated at their dining room table with a cup of tea, winding down after putting their five-year-old daughter Solera to bed when a ring disrupted the cup’s path to her lips. Caller ID didn’t show a name she recognized, so she let the ring carry a few more times with her guard up. It was far past any proper time to carry phone calls in the house, work or emergencies being the primary exceptions.

Finally accepting the call she whispered, “Hello?”

On the other line was a connecting call from Runeterra's Veteran's Hospital. She had never been more grateful to already be seated than at that very moment. What she heard on the other line pulled the air from her lungs, the past decade running through her mind in flashes. Mel buried her face in her hands and quietly wept.