Im still sick but im feeling a little better today and was ok to draw :) i think we talk too little about Mel's pantings...maybe this one wouldve looked nice as a full rendered
idk if i will be able to do 07 today, but dont worry i wont skip any prompt, at max they are gonna be daleyed, im gonna add days in march, just warning yall bc next week is gonna be hell for me (bio and physics test + debate + drawing logo of the classes mascot) so maybe i wont be able to do the meljay drawings :)
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!
How does Meljay Microfics work?
Weâll 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?Â
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 youâd like. How you use the prompt is up to your interpretation! Let your muse move you.
You donât have to write for every prompt of the month. Thereâs no pressure here, no commitment. This is just for fun.Â
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, weâd love to see your work! Tag us @meljaymicrofics & tag your work with #meljaymicrofics or #onlymeljay, and weâll reblog your fic! Be sure to include the prompt word you were inspired by within the post!
Thereâs 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 weâll include it in the next monthâs 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.
Meljay microfic prompt Temptation mixed with MerMay:
Sheâs there again.
Jayce is looking away from the bartender to the figure in the white cloak and hood sitting, once again, somewhat in the corner out of the way but in plain sight of the guitar player. He can tell sheâs looking that way by the way her hood is angled. Her drink is mostly full still as sheâs caught up by her fascination with the musician.
It brings a small smile to his lips.
âYou gonna take the drink or not?â
Jayce snaps his head back to the bartender. âYeah, here.â
He drops some coins, taking a sip of his tepid ale. He grimaces at the warmth and sourness but honestly what else did he expect from a tavern at the port of Noxus Prime? He was just lucky the cup was clean - mostly.
âHey, does she come here a lot?â
âShe who?â
âThe woman in the white hood.â
The bartender gives him an impatient huff. âHow should I know? Ask her yourself, dumbass.â
Rude but also true. âAlways a pleasure.â
âNot really.â
Jayce takes his cup and approaches her table. For a second he wonders whether he should go back and shave first, clean up. Heâs been out at the beach all day. He must be a mess. But then he wonders what the odds are of him seeing her again and he just goes for it.
âIs this seat taken?â
She cocks her head a little. âBy the tavern, I would think.â
âCan I sit down I mean.â
He sees her hooded head tilt downwards a little, the brace on his leg catching her attention. He rubs the back of his head a little. âBroke my leg last month out at sea. Terrible storm.â He sighs and shifts his weight. âGot knocked off the boat and broke my leg against some rocks I guess. But thenâŠâ
But then he could have sworn someone grabbed him up from the waters and next thing he was clearly aware of was the sandy shore. But no one believed him. Who could be swimming out in the middle of the ocean during a storm to save him and also not be struggling to stay afloat themselves? It was clearly a hallucination. And yetâŠ
But Jayce learned better to keep telling people.
ââŠThen the waves took me to shore.â
She lifted her head up enough for him to see her pretty hazel eyes and the gold beads in her twists.
âHow fortunate you are then,â she murmured in a low voice. âThe waves can have a mind of their own.â
She has a lovely voice. He wants to keep her talking even if itâs to read the menu.
âYouâre telling me,â he chuckles. Her eyes drift back to the guitarist and Jayce blurts out, in a burst of something like fear at losing her attention, âI play the guitar too.â
She looks back at him. âIs that so?â
âYeah. And the lute.â
âWhatâs the difference?â
He thinks he should probably lead with technicalities, being an inventor and all, but he was always more sentimental.
âTone, mood.â He puts a hand on the back of the chair. âCan I-?â
âYou may,â she inclines her head.
For a second he feels like heâs been given permission by a Queen. Maybe heâs just lucky she was even talking to him. Thatâs probably it.
âDo you play any instruments?â
She shakes her head. âBut I admire it.â
âWell thereâs a festival coming up I think youâd really like then. Thereâs going to be food, music, dancing- Ah, well, hobbling for me until this heals properly.â
âAre you asking me to hobble with you?â
âWell, I mean. Not hobbling per se but yeah. Iâd like to go with you. We can compare instrumental notes.â
âHm. Perhaps. I need to think about it some more.â She drinks elegantly from her cup. âYouâre not from around here are you?â
âThat obvious?â
âSlightly.â
âIâm researching.â
âAbout?â
âMany things, everything.â
âHm. Sounds aimless.â
âMaybe.â He turns his cup in his hands as he looks at it. âHavenât you ever felt like escaping to somewhere else, even for just a while?â
He can feel her eyes on him so he looks up. Her eyes are a little wider as if in surprise but she schools herself quickly, her expression changing based on whatever assessment she was making of him. He hoped it was a good one.
âSometimes. Yes.â
They shared a smile.
***
Kinoâs voice drifted from his hiding spot.
âSneaking off again, dear sister?â
She sighed loudly. Her brother shifted so he was leaning in front of the smooth rocks rather than behind them.
âIt was just a while.â
âIâm not judging. I had my fair share of escapades during my time on the surface.â He was messing with something tangled in his hands - a necklace? - as he talked to her, but paused long enough to say, âI only caution to space it out more, if you donât want mother knowing about it.â
âSheâs too busy deciding where next to invade.â
âYou know, just because she canât hold her form long like we can doesnât mean she wonât come looking for you.â
âWhy would she waste time with me when she has you?â
âMel.â
She sighed. âI returned. Isnât that enough?â She rubbed her temples and then continued walking, âI need to rest. Or is there something else you want to scold me for?â
âNope.â
She walked.
âOnly to warn that temptations are just that- temptations!â
She paused by the archway of the garden and then continued up the steps leading further to the estate of the Medardas.
Under the dome of the Celestial Atrium, where stars dripped like molten silver from the heavens, a God waited. Mel, Sovereign of Ambition, sat on a throne of light, her skin covered in gold veins. Mortals often went for her favourâprayers whispered into the dark, bargains offered in desperationâbut none of them ever reached her on the Spire of Ascent. Until him.
Jayce Talis, smith of Piltover's iron heart, knelt at the dais, his hands raw from the climb. Smoke clung to his coat, the stench of forge-fire sharp in the air. "I need no blessings," he said, voice trembling. "Only knowledge."
Mel's eyes narrowed. Mortals always needed. "Knowledge is a blade. It cuts both wielder and world."
He opened a leather satchel, withdrawing a jagged crystalâa 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 gaspedânot 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 youâ"
"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 hummedâa 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.
Inspired by @meljaymicrofics Day 9: Hurts Like Hell by Fleurie, Tommee Profitt
Relationship: Jayce Talis/Mel Medarda
Rating: T
cw: implied death, angst with happy ending
Summary: "Until next time" was a callback vow Mel and Jayce kept to each other in all the stages of their relationship. But what happened when it went unanswered?
After all, war is inconsiderate to the promises of a family
word count: 1043
âHave a goodnight, Jayce,â Mel said, slipping from his side once they two were within reach of Melâs residence.Â
âUntil next time?â There was a sweet lilt in his question, elevated on vulnerable hope of a first date gone well.
Melâs 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 familyâs estate at hardly the width of oneâs palm, did she peek back at him through the crack with a sultry look. âUntil next time.â
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 âgoodbye.â Only âuntil next time.â
Goodbyes were terribly finite. A slamming shut of a certain chapter, uncertainty riddled in what would lay ahead.Â
âUntil next timeâ 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.Â
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 Officerâs 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.Â
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.Â
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 Melâs friends laid concerns with Jayceâs 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.Â
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 Melâs ring finger.Â
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, âWhat is it, darling?âÂ
The pale look on Jayceâs face told her everything.Â
As fast as a heart beat, Mel was beside her husband. The hand cupping his cheek thumbed delicately at the high point while the otherâs fingers interlocked with his, steadying them both while the hole beneath them got bigger and bigger.
Jayceâs deployment wasnât 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.Â
Until next time.Â
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 Melâs doorstep, two men in uniform with their caps over their hearts stood before her.
Until next time.
Thatâs what we said. What we always said.Â
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 wasnât 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.Â
The hellish pain was an inescapable prison. On all accounts it tore Mel apart from the seams. âUntil next timeâ ran through her head as a horrid incantration. Knowing just how easy it could be to set that timeline for her.Â
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.Â
Especially during the harder days.
The missed birthdays, anniversaries, holidaysâ
And of course the âanniversaryâ 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 cupâs path to her lips. Caller ID didnât 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, âHello?â
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.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
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.
Jayce in the pit.
For @meljaymicrofics prompt: Vision