saint

19 | still mourning baelor targaryen

[mourningsaintt]

„‎as the saint mourned the loss of her husband, his brother came by to give her comfort..”

‎hello lovelies, mourningsaintt here! this account has gone through a complete refresh after almost getting hacked.

🪦‎fka: vvizla, hwanaeun

‎

‎I sometimes write when I feel like it. I adore collecting books and listening to music.

‎soon I'll link my masterlist here when I write enough stories.

‎check out navigation for more info about saint!

mourningsaintt est. 2026

[emmaxrosa]

RHAENYRA TARGARYEN & DAEMON TARGARYEN House of the Dragon: Season 3

[jakegyllenbaalz]

matt smith as daemon targaryen (house of the dragon)

[ellastone-olsen]

please do more with rhaenyra or something with emma 🤍

God I want to imagine being in Mysaria's place at the end of episode 6.

An: I’m baaaaack and absolutely obsessed with Rhaenyra and Emma D’Arcy

Just thinking about Rhaenyra's hands gripping your waist and going lower, grabbing your ass while she kisses you like she's been starving for too long. And then she pushes you onto the table behind you, so you sit up and spread your legs for her and she settles in between them and continues doing what she's doing.

The way her lips press against your neck again, kissing every inch and moving lower to the cleavage, making you whine “My queen” and “Your Grace” and she growls at hearing her titles in such an intimate moment. She needs a break from all the fuss, for a while she just wants to think about how beautiful and devoted you are to her.

One of your hands on her cheek while the other grabs her shoulder and squeezes harder at the feeling of the queen's hands under the skirt of your dress. Soft palms caress your hips and your mind is swimming with the thought of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen doing such things to you. While you were thinking, her hand reached your crotch, pushing the fabric of your underwear aside and running over your slick cunt, teasing entrance. "Pull your dress down, let me see" she commands and you pull the top of your dress up to expose your breasts to her.

Immediately, Rhaenyra simultaneously wraps her lips around your nipple and pushes into your heat with one finger at a time. You cry out and squirm, opening your legs wider. “My queen… oh gods my queen.” You whine and she adds a second finger, moving to the other breast. You pull her head closer, stroking her soft silver hair.

The wet sounds of her fucking you echo in the silence of the room and your arousal flows down her palm. “I want you so much,” Rhaenyra whispers, taking you completely. “You will be faithful and return the favor, show me how you can serve me won’t you?” She growls in your ear and bites. “Yes, yes oh gods… Your Grace, I will.” And then she falls to her knees to eat you like a hungry animal. You look at this picture and do not believe your eyes, as if you were given poppy milk and all this is a mirage, as if the queen’s head is swinging between your legs, bringing you to unthinkable bliss. She does not have to put in much effort, you cum almost immediately as her tongue touches your bud, your walls grip her long fingers and you moan “Oh my queen… Rhaenyra” calling her by name for the first time.

[mourningsaintt]

ouuuuu

[celestialwyvern]

BALERION THE KITTEN - Aerion Targaryen

SUMMARY - Aerion brings back a kitten who he claims is Balerion reincarnated.

CONTAINS - fluff, aerion is delusional, crack (again i find everything funny)

A/N - No i totally did not skip uni today haha what do you mean... I just can't resist writing oops!

Aerion strode into the room, his dark cloak flowing behind him. His chin was held at a lofty angle, and his arms were securely wrapped around a bundle pressed tightly against his chest.

You didn’t even look up from the broken tapestry you were supposed to be mending. “Whatever that may be, we don’t have room for it.”

“Hush, woman, and bear witness,” Aerion commanded, stopping in the center of the room.

“I have returned from the lower levels of the city with a prize. A creature of pure terror. Look upon the abyssal depths of its coat. The fierce, unyielding shadow. It is Balerion reborn, wife.”

With a grand flourish, he peeled back the folds of his cloak.

The supposed ‘Black Dread’ did not wait to be formally introduced. The moment the fabric parted, the tiny, incredibly fluffy black kitten wriggled frantically out of Aerion’s grip, lost its footing on his silk tunic, and fell face first.

It hit the floor with a soft thud and rolled twice across the rug before immediately coming to a stop at Aerion’s boot.

You leaned forward, squinting.

Finding itself on the ground, the kitten began chewing on the strings of Aerion’s left boot. It let out a high pitched mew, its yellow eyes wide, slightly cross-eyed, and completely vacant of a single thought.

“Aerion,” you said slowly, setting the tapestry aside. “That is a kitten. And it has a lazy eye. You named a creature smaller than your fist after the dragon that melted Harrenhal?”

“It is a tactical gaze!” Aerion snapped, instantly defensive. He yanked his boot away from the tiny teeth, and the kitten merely hissed. “It allows him to scan the battlefield for weakness from multiple angles. Do not insult the Dread. He is a fierce predator.”

You folded your arms, a massive smirk pulling at your lips as you got up from the ottoman. “Right. And I suppose the Black Dread is also going to find its way down a well? Have you forgotten what happened years ago when you were this close to a feline? Poor Egg wept for a week.”

His jaw clenched, and his eyes flashed with theatrical outrage.

“Seven hells, I did not throw that creature down the well! It simply fell. I was merely conducting a highly intellectual test whether or not the species truly lands on its feet. It is not my fault gravity was entirely uncooperative that day.”

“You nudged it with your boot, my love. That contradicts your story.”

“I gave it an encouraging push toward scientific discovery!” He insisted, crossing his arms and looking down his nose at you. “And besides, Balerion here has the blood of Old Valyria in his spirit. He would simply fly out of a well.”

As if to prove his point, the kitten scrambled back onto its paws, locked its eyes onto a low stool, and tried to leap from the rug.

Just as you expected, it completely misjudged the distance and fell directly into the side of the stool. Balerion rolled over into a pathetic tangled heap with a tiny squeak.

Aerion stared at the crumpled ball of black fluff for a long, agonizingly silent moment.

“...He is still a kitten learning to adjust his wings,” your husband muttered, clearing his throat and looking away.

Determined to prove his Targaryen supremacy, Aerion spent the next few hours attempting to train his new war beast.

He was sat on the edge of the bed, snapping his fingers aggressively while the kitten played around, fascinated by a piece of cotton floating around in the light of the sun.

Aerion commanded Balerion in High Valyria using the same exact tone one might use to an actual dragon.

You laughed as Balerion flatly ignored him, turning around to lick its left leg without thought.

When Aerion leaned down lower, the kitten let out a sharp sneeze before trotting directly past him. It scrambled up your skirts and curled up into a circle right onto your lap, closing its eyes.

Aerion looked as though he had just been betrayed. Which was not far off.

“The beast has no loyalty. I am the one who rescued it from the ditch, and it defects to you? Unbelievable."

“Maybe he just prefers someone who doesn’t have a history with felines,” you teased, gently scratching behind Balerion’s ears. “And clearly, he isn’t listening to you. He’s just unimpressed by your commands.”

Aerion let out a dramatic huff, marching off to the desk on the other side of the chamber.

Hours later, the castle had fallen quiet.

You blinked your eyes open, realizing you were no longer between Aerion’s warm arms.

The bed was uncharacteristically empty and cold.

Frowning, you slipped out from under the heavy blanket and stepped onto the cold floor.

A faint, hushed whispering caught your attention from the right side of the sofa.

You crept toward the noise, holding your breath to suppress a laugh at the sight before you.

Your husband was lying flat on his stomach on the rug.

His silver hair was completely disheveled, and his silk nightshirt was pushed up to his elbows.

In front of him sat a polished silver platter containing several finely shredded pieces of duck, which he had clearly taken directly from the kitchens.

“Come now, fierce one,” Aerion whispered, his voice smooth and devoid of its usual arrogance.

You realized he was speaking to the kitten the same way he would speak to you.

He nudged a piece of poultry toward Balerion with the tip of his finger. “Ipradagon, Balerion. Eat. Prove to my wife that you are a monster of the sky.”

The kitten sniffed the duck, licked Aerion’s finger with its sandpaper tongue, and let out a loud purr before digging into the food.

Aerion’s lips curled into a victorious smile. He gently reached out with two fingers, carefully stroking the kitten’s head as if it were made of glass.

Your heart fluttered at the sight. “My love.”

Aerion practically leaped to his feet, throwing his shoulder back and trying desperately to look regal while covered in Balerion’s black fur.

“The beast was making an intolerable scene. I was silencing it before it could wake you up.” He nodded unconvincingly.

“By feeding it duck on a silver platter?” You walked over, a knowing smile on your face. You wrapped your chilly arms around his waist, leaning your head on his chest.

Aerion's pride warred off with the comfort of your touch. His arms wound tightly around you, pulling you flush against him as he buried his face in your hair, letting out a defeated sigh.

“He licked my finger,” Aerion muttered, his voice full of reluctant affection. “I suppose that constitutes a formal binding of our souls. I cannot leave him now. It would be a breach of Valyrian custom.”

“A terrible shame,” you giggled softly, tilting your head up to kiss his jaw. “You love him, admit it.”

“No. I love you,” he murmured, lips finding yours in a warm, lingering kiss. “The beast is merely a beneficiary of my good mood.”

When he finally pulled back, a familiar smirk tugged at his lips. His thumbs caressed your cheekbones as he kissed your temple.

Balerion finished his food, letting out a content yawn that got both your attention.

He waddled over to the two of you, and you bent down to pick the kitten up with your hands.

Aerion couldn’t help but melt at the sight of you handling the tiny creature, his eyes softening in ways others would not believe to be possible.

“Now come, my love,” he chuckled, lifting you effortlessly into his arms, while you carefully cradled Balerion against your chest. “Let us go back to bed before you freeze to death.”

[californiablues88]

[alicent-florent]

[lonelyvampx]

Aerion: the living copy of his ancestors' pathetic nature

[opaldracarys]

sitting on michael’s lap facing him, chest to chest, both of you heaving with it, grinding so slowly- agonisingly so while you- well you can hardly even call it kissing. it’s so messy & sloppy but he’s so eager and pent up with it that it feels so so good. your tongues rubbing messily, both of your mouths wide open, his soft whiny moans echoing into the cavern of your mouth.

you feel the wetness of his drool from the tip of your nose to the bottom of your chin from the way he’s pressing himself on you, it’s disgusting, desperate, like he’s never had the chance and he never will again.

you are sucking each other's tongues, taking turns spitting into each other's mouth too. his hands shake when he holds you by the curve of your ass but it’s not nerves, he’s just so fucking eager, you don’t actually think he cares if he’s making you feel good, in truth neither of you are thinking about a fucking thing

the room is echoing with the wet lewd sounds of your gasping union, there’s no sign of tiring or progressing to anything more than this- despite the fact he’s hard as a rock between your thighs, the “kissing” (if you can even call it that) is enough.

[mourningsaintt]

oh my god...

[leeahl]

[luvmaekar]

I absolutely love your husband Aerion x reader!!!

But what do you think Aerion would do if the woman he slept with and cheated with would begin to mock reader in some way for having a straying husband?

Would he not care since he has liked publicly humiliating her before with her fabrics being used by the servants? Or would he be more upset at reader being mocked by someone who is below their station considering at the end of the day she is HIS wife and he does carry some affection/possessiveness for her so should he be the only one allowed to delight in her misery?

husband!Aerion x wife!Reader

headcanons

cw: 18+ (mdni), dark!Aerion

Deep down, Aerion would completely lose his mind if he saw anyone else inflict harm upon you— because in his twisted logic, he is the only one who has the right to hurt you.

BUT, if he were to watch your lady-in-waiting humiliate you by making a sharp comment about how you cannot keep your own husband, right in front of other people, he wouldn’t lift a finger to stop it.

On one hand, he would force himself to control his inner fury so it wouldn’t look like he actually cares about you. On the other hand, he cannot afford to show any weakness when it comes to you— he doesn't want you harboring any false hopes or starting to place expectations on him. Aerion ultimately wants to be a complete monster in your eyes just to see how far he can push you.

Furthermore, the moment the lady-in-waiting insults you, you would instinctively look in his direction with a crushed, disappointed expression, just to see his reaction. Your heart would shatter into a thousand pieces all over again simply because he refuses to defend you— hell, he might even flash you a mocking grin or a fake laugh just to completely crush your spirit.

However, the second Aerion and that lady-in-waiting are completely alone, he would punish her brutally. He might force her to drink boiling hot water, scalding her entire mouth, to ensure she never speaks such foul words in your presence ever again.

Taglist: @mommyoftwoo @1yoko-j @kravitzwhore

[runningmunson]

[aemonds-blackfyre]

Excuse me while I go die over new Ewan Mitchell content. 🧎‍♀️‍➡️

[mourningsaintt]

UGHHHHHH

[myladyship]

Maekar Targaryen is the only man I would ever allow to use 'woman' as a pet name towards me.

[serlyonel]

Emma D'Arcy, Ewan Mitchell and Tom Glynn-Carney for Entertainment Weekly

[mourningsaintt]

OH MY GODDD

[tweebylamb]

Fat fuck

Summary: After finding out you are pregnant you struggle on how to tell your husband.

Warnings: Pregnancy, Bad language, crude humor, bad humor, bad writing

Let me know if I missed any!

___________________________________________

Finding out you were pregnant should have not been as surprising as it was. You are married woman and got up to certain "activities" with your husband. However you still cant help it as you leave the grandmaster chambers in a daze of shock after he confirmed that you are in fact with child.

You internally groan as you realise how foolish you were. You had not bleed in a few months, yet instead of being worried about it like anyone with a brain cell would be, you were just happy you didn't have to deal with it. How could you be so stupid?

You had gone to the maester when you realised that you had been having aversions too foods you usually loved. Fearing that you might have food poisoning, or worse your taste spuds were changing.

So, you had not gone too the maester when you noticed your lack of monthly blood, you had gone running to the maester when you noticed an aversion too food. God, you were a fat fuck.

An idiot and a fat fuck.

As you walk though the red keep, pondering how you made it this far, your thoughts drift too Baelor. Your sweet perfect Baelor. Who's child you now carry. How were you supposed to tell him? Its not like you could go up and say: "Hey Baelor, I am four months pregnant and I never noticed until I stopped liking food I usually like."

God.

You found yourself praying for your unborn child's sake that they got their father's intelligence.

You go to your shared chambers with Baelor. He of course isn't here yet as he is busy with his many duties to the realm as heir to the iron throne and hand of the king.

As you strip off your fancy gowns, in favour of something more comfortable you catch a glimpse of your figure in the mirror. Your belly is starting to swell with child. You run a hand over your belly. How had you not noticed? The same answer comes to you that you had given yourself earlier. You are a fat fuck.

You slip on a comfortable nightgown. Before flopping down onto the luxurious canopy bed in the room.

You might be pregnant with a future king, you realise as you roll over. You never considered yourself a religious woman, yet you found yourself praying to the old gods and the new that the child inherited Baelors intelligence, for the sake of the realm. As the realm most certainly will not survive a ruler with your wits.

You are snapped out of your prayers as Baelor enters the chambers.

"My love." He greets before walking over to press a kiss to your forehead. "How was your day?" The prince inquires. This is your chance, you realise, tell him you are with child, your brain screams at you. "Good." You reply while internally screaming at yourself for being such an idiot.

Baelor sheds himself of his formal wear while telling you about his day. His calming deep voice becomes a mummer in the background, as it usually did when he began too talk about politics and matters of the realm. Usually you would admire your husbands body as he got ready for bed, for once however you didn't.

You should have told him the moment you found out, you curse yourself in your own head. Now if you tell him he will think you were keeping it a secret. You are so lost berating yourself in your head, you don't notice Baelor lie next you on the bed.

"Is everything well, my love?" He asks with a hint of concern in his calming voice. "You seem as if you are somewhere else entirely."

You feel your heart beating faster in your chest, you hear it in your ears.

Tell him you fool. You are being given a second chance.

"Everything is fine." You say in a tone you hope is reassuring.

Baelor stares deeply into your soul with his memorising mismatched violet and brown eyes. A perfect representation of his Valyrain and Dornish heritage. Fuck. It wasn't fair for someone to be so beautiful.

"Are you certain? You can tell me anything, my sweet heart."

"I know." You say, I just don't know how to tell you, you say in your head.

Baelor lets out a hum and presses a kiss to your temple, before blowing out the candle on your bedside table.

As the lavish room is engulfed in darkness, the only semblance of light comes from the moonlight through the balcony.

You lie on your side as you feel Baelors bare chest against your back. Despite the warmth from Baelors body, you go cold when you feel his arm wrap around your stomach. Where his unborn child currently lies. The one he didn't know existed.

"Is something wrong?" Baelor speaks up softly. "You feel tense."

Fuck.

"Hmm? Oh, it's nothing." You say with an attempt of keeping your voice calm. You wince however as your voice reaches your own ears. That is not what someone who is calm sounds like.

Baelor gently manoeuvres you too face him.

You can barley make out his beautiful majestic face in the dark. A pity. You love his face. It is your favourite thing to admire.

"What has happened?" The prince inquires gently.

"Nothing." You reply too quickly for it to be true.

"You need not lie, my love." Baelor gently cups your face with his spare hand. "Talk too me." He half begs.

Could this man be anymore perfect? You were lying to him, and he comforted you and begged you to confide in him.

You must have saved a burning orphanage in a past life to deserve him.

"I cannot help you if I do not know what is wrong."

Tell him! Every ounce of your being screams at you. Tell him now. It is the perfect opportunity.

You take a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself. It doesn't work. Your heart is racing against your chest. Your throat is dry, and you fear that you may have made a new layer of skin with sweat. So in a moment of courage you screw your eyes shut and will yourself to blurt it out.

I am with child, you want too say, however what comes out is not that.

"I am a fat fuck!" You blurt out.

Your eyes quickly snap open. You can vaguely make out Baelors slightly confused expression in the dark.

How did you manage to fuck up saying a simple sentence?

You let out a load groan and bury your face into a silk pillow. If the gods you didn't believe in had any mercy, they would surely strike you down. End your misery.

"My love." Baelor says hesitantly, which is unusual for a man who was usually so confident and calm.

You answer him with a groan that is muffled by the pillow. Baelor gently grabs your shoulder to roll you onto your back.

"You are not fat, my heart." Baelor says in such a sincere way you could never doubt him.

You let out another groan.

"That isn't what I meant too say."

"What did you mean too say?"

You answer him with a groan.

"My love." He presses.

"I went to the grand maester today." Baelor says nothing as he waits for you to continue. "You see I was having aversions too food I usually like." You begin to ramble. "Which was quiet odd, as you know I treat myself once a week to some-"

"My sweet heart." Baelor says as he cuts you off. "I promise, you can tell me anything. There is no need to be nervous. Not with me." He presses a kiss to your forehead.

At the angle he is at, you can see Baelor in the moonlight and by the old gods and the new does he look gorgeous. Such a handsome man looking at you with beautiful eyes filled with concern. Concern for you.

You stare into Baelors eyes as you speak again.

"I am with child."

The relief of pleasure you feel finally getting what you needed to say is indescribable. Even though you haven't even known for more then two hours.

Surprise flickers across his beautiful face before surprise quickly turns into pure and utter joy.

"Oh, my sweet perfect girl." Baelor says as he smothers your face with kisses. His beard rubbing against your skin. He quickly moves down your body to press a kiss against your slightly swollen stomach. "Our child." He murmurs in pure and utter euphoria.

He quickly moves back up your body and presses a kiss to your lips.

"The maester confirmed it?"

"Yes."

"Do you know how far along you are?" Baelor places a hand on your stomach, unwilling to part with his unborn child.

"Four moons."

Baelor looks at you as if you had grown two heads. "Four moons?" He asks wondering if he had heard you properly.

"Yes, Four moons."

A realisation quickly dawns on the prince. "Have you been keeping this from me?" He asks. A look of disappointment on his handsome face, that makes your heart drop.

"No!" You quickly say. "I only found out today!"

The look of disappointment quickly leaves his face. You let out a sigh of relief.

"Then how are you Four moons with child?" He cups your cheek. "Did you not realise you missed your moon blood?" He asks clearly not expecting that to be what happened. Your sheepish look gives you away.

"Please my heart, don't tell me you didn't realise you missed Four moon bloods?"

"I did obviously notice I wasn't getting my moon blood."

"And you didn't feel the need to go straight to the maester?"

You shrug your shoulders. "I was just happy I wasn't getting it."

The prince let's out a groan.

[lukalutra]

Maekar approximately every day