"I Won't Leave Meleys"

"I won't leave Meleys"

Rhaenys Targaryen, daughter of Aemon Targaryen and Jocelyn Baratheon, wife of lord Corlys Valaryon, mother of Laena and Laenor Valaryon, Princess of Driftmark and the Queen Who Never was. Rider of Meleys the Red Queen.

She died as a true Targaryen 🥲 Man I knew what was coming but I'm still not over her death...please come back Rhaenys...

This season really has me itching to make more HOTD/GoT content, so I'm thinking of starting an art series where I'll be drawing the HOTD cast in my style and/or their dragons in my style. Stay tuned lol

Older doodle of Jien dragon form + Jiyan dragon form. All my friends unanimously agreed that Jiyan would be a huge dragon, and Jien is already big so take a wild guess at what a giant he is.

They're just cuddling your honor ✨🐉

Still working on polishing his design, but I really like how its turning out.

On another note, I just want to see if anyone would be interested in writing commissions from me? No shame if you're not, I just want to see if there's interest for that.

To the anon asking about wuwa dragons, I kiss you on the head, on the hand, you have no idea what Pandora's box you opened, I'm gonna go all out on that request 😈🐉

Wuthering waves players, specifically phone players - have you run into the issue where the photos you take don't save to your gallery? And is there a way to fix this?

Could I request Jiyan's s/o taking ng care of him while he's sick?

A/n: Sorry for waiting so long on this, I'm slowly making my way through the request now. I hope you enjoy this! <3

Contents: Jiyan x gn reader, Jiyan is called husband(hehe), sweet nicknames from Jiyan to reader, fluff, grammar mistakes probably

“My dear, I have told you time and time over-” A cough rippled through him, dry and scratching at his throat raw. Jiyan was rather adamant at getting his message across, however, and when the cough settled with you soothing up his back with your palm, he turned to you again “I don’t need pampering” he said, but his flushed face and sweaty forehead told another tale. One more true than he would tell it. 

“You’ll sooner convince me the sky's neon yellow rather than that - although I’d hardly call it pampering, Jiyan” you told him briskly, fed up with this demeanor. Just this morning he had snuck out of bed to take care of himself, and were it not for his stumbling he might’ve gotten away with it. It was past breakfast now, and you had not only cooked for him the most rich broth you knew of, but you managed to break the feverish General into following your orders, although not without some remark from him. “Now sit back, I’m going to bring you something to cool you off with” this time your voice is softer, your eyes mellowing out as you reach out to tuck the stray hairs from his face, not missing the way he softly sighed. His golden eyes half lidded and heavy, tired to the bone, but all his bones knew was battle. You couldn’t fault him for trying to do it on his own nor for being so stubborn.

“Fine..” Jiyan replied with yet another heavy sigh that deflated his lungs, slumping his figure against the bedframe he rested against.  His heavy lids fell over his eyes, and when he next opened them you were dabbing his sweaty forehead with a cool washcloth. He must have dozed off, he thinks to himself, blinking languidly as his eyes drink in you like honey, too thick to be drunk swiftly, yet not lacking for sweetness. 

“What is it?” you ask him as he keeps on staring, something heavy about his eyes bringing your attention to him, for a moment granting him that sweet treat of your gaze on his own. He takes a deep breath in and then exhales, his words failing him.

He doesn’t want to touch you either, as the fever filled him from his head down to the tips of his fingers, and any touch would mean to him as if he had cut you. He wets his lips with a quick dart of his tongue before he shakes his head, all his movement slow as if he weighs twice more than he did. “Nothing..”

You scoff at him, not taking his words seriously. “It seems as if the fever has gotten to you more than I thought. Has it eaten away at your brain?” you shake your head as you dip the cloth in the cold water besides you before sliding it across his cheek and down to his neck. At that he gave a hiss, the cold cloth a stark contrast to his burning skin. It sent his muscles stiffening and begging for the offending feeling to be removed, but Jiyan knew it was for the better as he grit his teeth through it.

Sighing after you removed the cloth from his neck and collarbone, you moved to cup his hands and bring them around the cloth, hoping the coolness of it will get to him and ease his fever. You’ve given him medicine plenty, food as well, drinks he would grow sick of even more if you insisted he drink anything, so you moved to these small things to help him. 

“You’re doing too much, my love..” he rasps, looking at you as you help hold his hands around the cloth. 

“I am not doing too much. I am taking care of my husband..” you told him, tone easy and undertones of affection hugging close, apparent to Jiyan’s ears. It made him chuckle, shaking his chest that felt as if it would cave in on him if he dared laugh more, but he laughed regardless in face of your attempts to not seem too dotting. Yet you failed enormously, showing your worry in the most quiet ways of being loud. Hovering over him, never being too far. It was amusing at least.

“Right.. is that what you’d call what you’ve been doing in the last hour or so? You’re acting as if I’ve escaped famine and I’m dying in your arms.. My love, I will be alright. I just need a long rest, that is all..” he tries to reason with you, to ease your worries if nothing else. He removes one hand from your hold and puts it over yours. It’s warm, radiating heat like a hearth nearby, your own hand seems nearly cold in comparison. 

“Then how about you stop moving so much, just.. lay back, and go sleep. I’ll go fix you something for dinner”

“Beloved, I’ve eaten too much already, just half an hour ago you had me eat another plate of that broth, and it is not even 12 o’clock... But I’ll rest, alright?”

You sigh at him, a touch irritated but you appreciate his attempts to help you too in your worried stupor to help him. “Fine. But if I see you or hear you shuffling about, you’ll come to regret it. You’ll hate me more than this fever of yours” This time it is you cracking small smiles, although you turn your head and tilt your nose into the air, acting ignorant of the smile.

Jiyan smiles back, nodding his head. “I hear you loud and clear..” he responds, voice mellow even more.

“In the meantime.. I will go out and run an errand or two. Maybe stop by the market, bring you something sweeter than a broth to eat before you complain that you are tired of it”

Jiyan knows there is no stopping you now. If you decided to go pluck lemon grass from the top of the highest mountain, he knew he’d be helpless to stop you. “That sounds fine with me. But don’t stay too long in the sun, unless you want to lay in this sickbed next to me”

“I’ll be alright. The sun can’t get to me so easily. Now, you rest” reluctantly you peel your hands away from his grasp, leaving the washcloth between his fingers and you leave the bucket of cool water close by too, should he feel the need for it. You lean closer, and before he could reject it, although he lacked strength for it, you kissed his temple and stood upright. His eyes followed your movement, both grateful for the kiss and on the verge of scolding you.

“Sleep well, Jiyan. I’ll be back soon”

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.