#viserys III targaryen

[venusbyline]

my four blonde and toxic husbands <3 <3

"i could fix him" good for you. im gonna join him in his insanity

[aneurins-barnard]

HARRY LLOYD as VISERYS III TARGARYEN GAME OF THRONES 1.01 Winter is Coming

[jacaeryspilled]

random asoiaf faceclaims of mine

ashara dayne & arthur dayne

daenerys stormborn & viserys targaryen

rhaegar targaryen & elia martell

theon greyjoy & asha greyjoy

arianne martell & quentyn martell

[hylialeia]

I love the way viserys lingers in dany's pov chapters but in a sort of repressed way. naming her gold dragon viserion. using "wake the dragon" as a threat against slavers and traitors. she doesn't laugh for weeks after he dies. she didn't have a maester she had a brother. she clings to him telling her the starks and lannisters were the usurper's dogs. he's always there in everything she does even just a little bit and then fully resurfaces for the end of adwd in some pseudo horror/triumph vision to influence her again. "I loved you once" literally the saddest thing grrm has ever written.

[deadgirlwalked]

it's crazy to realise that Tyrion is just 3 years older than Viserys. Those two could have been toddling together.

[fangrurin]

It had grown so silent in the hall that she could hear the bells in Khal Drogo's hair, chiming softly with each step he took. His bloodriders followed him, like three copper shadows. Daenerys had gone cold all over. "He says you shall have a splendid golden crown that men shall tremble to behold." [...] "That was all I wanted," he said. "What was promised."

HARRY LLOYD and EMILIA CLARKE as VISERYS and DAENERYS TARGARYEN

[eschercaine]

The wig department hasn’t put this kind of work in since.

[daenysthedreamer101]

Would these two get along?

[ladystoneboobs]

idt we talk enough about how a song of ice and fire is also the song of incest and cannibalism. i mean, sure, obviously both of those subjects are noted as present, but the saga feels much more known for its incest, which idt is fair or accurate to the later materiel. iirc, jaime fucking cersei next to their dead firstborn is the last instance of onpage incest happening in present tl, and after that it's all about the cannibals, baby.

(disclaimer: cw/tw sa, cw/tw rape, and i'm not counting cousincest as that's normal in-world even for non-targaryens and also still legal in many places in our world today, nor counting the faux-incestuous freudian mess that is littlefinger/alayne(sansa)/sweetrobin, nor any dark humor jokes and/or unfulfilled threats wrt forced cannibalism)

in fact pretty much all the active incest during the present tl happens in those first 3 books:

the twincest as a major plot point ofc, kicking action off when bran saw them fucking in a tower

and viserys creeping on dany and twisting her nipple

tyrion relating his backstory to bronn wherein he and tysha were both raped by proxy by his father, tywin (tho tyrion does not use that terminology)

craster still being alive to rape and impregnate his own daughters (resulting in dozens of forced incestuous relationships)

and theon unknowingly groping his own sister while she (knowingly) groped him in return

jaime's early pov recalled how he shut up cersei with kissing when they fought after bran refused to die

bella of stoney sept trying and failing to seduce gendry who is (unbeknownst to them both) her half-brother as both were sired by robert baratheon (only example in these 3 books where incest was averted before any sexual activity or incestuous contact occurred)

the aforementioned sept twincest next to joffrey's corpse

tyrion learning from oberyn about cersei twisting his penis when he was a baby

cersei's failed attempt to seduce jaime in wst, pulling out his dick for either a bj or hj until her talk of tyrion's death made him lose his boner

while incest is not exactly absent from the text after that, it seems to exist in the feastdance only in hypotheticals or past memories:

aeron's trauma flashbacks of his (implied only in published text) csa by euron

jaime still feeling lust when seeing cersei nude

and her fond reminiscing about them fucking behind robert's back/brief dream of them as a married couple before her walk of shame

and cersei remembering another she twisted tyrion's baby penis

victarion misinterpreting asha's offer of partnership as a marriage proposal and suddenly looking at his niece in a new way with "his manhood beginning to stiffen"

jaime's recollection of fucking cersei at darry next to robert as he was passed out drunk before cersei sent him to hunt arya (which would have happened back in agot and the point of this scene is more his failed hunt for a child just to make cersei happy)

arianne's "uneasy" memory of a past fantasy about being seduced by a man whose description is suspiciously similar to her late uncle oberyn

the aborted marital match of aegon/young griff to his purported aunt dany

illyrio saying (the now dead) viserys tried to rape dany the night before her wedding to drogo (another event from agot concerning a guy we already knew was into incest)

and tyrion once saying he wanted to rape as well as murder cersei

conversely, the cannibalism in the earlier books is most often only unproven hypotheticals alluded to as possible cannibalism:

old nan saying the others fed their dead servants the flesh of human children (which we have not yet seen with any wights so far, whether or not one counts walking undead eating human flesh as straight-up cannibalism)

the mystery meat in flea bottom's bowls o' brown which may or may not contain symon silver tongue after tyrion had him killed

renly's recollection that cressen kept stannis from catapulting their old master-at-arms by saying they may need to eat him later (which did not come to pass thanks to davos)

joffrey telling his people to eat their own dead (with no way of knowing if any actually did)

lady hornwood eating her own fingers (though bran's pov only notes them being chewed on, not swallowed. it's only in adwd that people talk of her eating the fingers.)

the mentions of the ice river clans being the cannibals beyond the wall (who are def not among the free folk jon snow gets to know onpage, making it just background detail)

bran's (possibly mythical) story of the rat cook

and biter chewing on people he attacked and other corpses (which seems to be just a side hobby connected to his killing method moreso constituting a snack than a full meal from a person butchered for meat. this tendancy of his is just background detail in acok, with biter chewing a corpse in the background after the weasel soup operation, and the hindsight implication that it could well have been him rather than dogs or wolves who had "been at" the corpses after the skirmish where yoren was killed)

while the feastdance feels much more in your face with cannibalism, having not only more total mentions of the practice but also more confirmed, actual cannibalism (as opposed to the ambiguity of each and every bowl o' brown), for those who know how to look at the evidence:

jaime learned that his father's mad dog aka the mountain fed parts of vargo hoat to all his prisoners (including vargo himself) after recapturing harrenhal

and euron bragged about pulling a similar trick with the warlocks he captured (the only twist being that the warlocks knew what they were being forced to eat, which vargo hoat and wylis manderly etc at harrenhal likely didn't)

the elder brother of the quiet isle told of biter eating all of a woman's breasts at saltpans after she'd been raped and killed (prob the largest amount of flesh biter's confirmed to have eaten from one corpse)

bran and co. ate "pig" supplied by coldhands which had to be long pig aka human meat

brienne felt her face being eaten by biter in her own pov (which is so much worse than him chewing others in the background of the weasel soup scene)

theon was told that two ironmen at moat cailin were found eating their dead comrades

the astapori were said to eat their own dead while under siege by the yunkishmen

and then were said to do so again in refugee camps outside meereen

sam and davos sailed past skagos and remembered stories of skagosi cannibalism

khrazz the pit fighter cut the hearts from his defeated foes to eat them

cotter pyke's last letter to jon snow said the wildlings were eating their own dead at hardhome

4 of stannis's men were executed by burning for butchering and eating other men (with asha wondering how many others had done so without being caught)

and ofc the frey pies with wyman manderly having his 3 former guests killed and serving their meat to their own kin and the other guests at ramsay's wedding while eating some himself too

two of these examples (involving gregor clegane and euron greyjoy) must have actually happened during the course of asos, but grrm chose to give us the gruesome details in affc, which was brand new information about men we already knew were villains but did not know were into that fucked-up shit specifically, unlike being reminded that agot-era jaime and viserys wanted to fuck their sisters. (and not unlike how adwd has the clarification of multiple characters saying lady hornwood ate her own fingers as opposed to bran's acok pov just saying she chewed on them.) it's as if after craster was killed and jc effectively broke up grrm decided cannibalism was the taboo subject matter he would fill the later books with, so we'd really feel the increasing danger of starvation-induced cannibalism with winter's arrival (and have no trouble believing rickon's new home of skagos really is a cannibal island). however, in-universe it feels like there's some sort of environmental balance connection so that the decrease in one formerly common behaviorial abomination just allows another such abomination to fill in the gap with a sharp increase in activity, like deer overpopulation resulting from lack of predators as if all the active incest somehow stopped more people from eating themselves or other people.

[the-fiction-witch]

Discussing The Matter

Media - Game Of Thrones Character - Viserys Targaryen Couple - Viserys X Reader Reader - (OC) Visenya Targaryen (Twin sister of Viserys) Rating - Smut (Incest) Word Count - 3008

Visenya made her way through Illrio’s large impressive palace in her loose blue gown in the typical pentos style. She matched into viserys chambers seeing his books and weapons lining the place, his large circle marble bath in the centre where he currently sat being attended by maids,

"Go." She demanded and the maids and staff cleared out leaving them alone,

Viserys looked at her, admiring her, she looked like an actual goddess to him. "What a commanding tone, you come into my chambers uninvited and demand my servants to leave?"

"Just because you have a cock! Does not entitle you to make all the decisions regarding our family viserys!" she said as she came over and stood at the steps of his tub meaning he couldn't get out until she was done talking to him

“Did you come all the way here to discuss my cock? or is there a different reason, my sweet sister?"

"viserys. I'm serious." She complained, "You can't really allow illrio to make this match for Dany. The Dothraki are cruel, their Karls take multiple wives, slaves, butchers and bastards to their women!"

Viserys rolled his eyes and leaned back against the bath, his gaze drifting towards the ceiling, "Oh, come on, do you really expect me to care about Dany? She's already a woman flowered, it's time she started fulfilling her duties as a woman."

"... And what of me? I am a woman flowered why did you not sell me?"

Viserys' gaze snapped back to her, his eyes searching her face in disbelief, a hint of anger in his voice as he answered. "You are my twin, my other half, my equal. I would never trade you away to some stinking barbarian."

"Dany is our baby sister. Is she not of your care too?" She said as she slowly stepped up the steps and into his bath with him, crawling over to sit in his lap her dress immediately soaking,

Viserys' breath hitches as his sister straddles him, his hands resting on her hips instinctively and pulling her closer to him in the bathtub. He looks up at her, his eyes burning with a mix of anger and desire, as he speaks, his voice coming out as a hoarse whisper. "You know I would never do anything to hurt you, but that doesn't apply to Daenerys. She might be our sister, but she's still just a woman. Her role is to obey us and bear heirs."

"I am a woman," she whispered against his lips,

His eyes darkened with lust, and a low growl rumbled in his throat as she spoke. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer, his hands sliding up underneath her wet gown to caress the bare skin of her back. "You are the exception."

"am I? I am older. I am ... Arguably more desirable. Dany is a child. And you sell her away, surely illrio has asked you as... The one with the cock. To make arrangements to send me away" she explained playing with running her fingers on his face and hair, as she shifts her hips on him

A sharp intake of breath escaped him as her hips moved against his, his grip on her waist tightening as he tries to keep himself from losing control. His eyes darkened even further, the desire burning inside him making it hard to think straight, the thought of losing her to a stranger, painful to imagine. "He suggested it, yes, but I refused. You're mine, always mine, I'd rather die than let another man have you."

"even if you got your army for me," she cooed moving her hips more knowing she can force his answers out of him

A low, primal moan slipped from his lips as her movements continued to drive him mad with desire, his own hips bucking against her involuntarily, his hands sliding down to her thighs, holding her in place. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his words coming out as a hoarse whisper. "I would burn every kingdom from Qarth to Asshai to the ground before letting another man touch you, to hell with my army."

"but she is sellable? Your own sister?"

His expression hardened, his lust momentarily forgotten as reminders of the current argument returned to his mind. He pulled back, looking at her with a mixture of anger and resignation. "She is. She is younger, more innocent, still pure. She can give me alliances and armies. What can I possibly gain from you?"

she glared and went to move off him

he caught her hips and slammed her down on his lap, the water of the tub sloshing around them. His grip was firm, not letting her move away from him. "Don't you dare. You came into my bathtub and straddled me, you're not going anywhere without me finishing what you started."

"you know what you would gain from me. An army, your crown. More allies in this world. You have two sisters both of which you can sell off and still be open to marry across the sea when you are king."

His hands on her hips held her firmly against him, forcing her to feel the hard length of him, his chest heaving as his breathing quickened. He moved his face closer to hers, their lips just barely touching as he spoke. "Why do you think I want an army or a crown when I have you, hmm? You're worth more to me than all the gold and armies in this world. I don't care about marriages or alliances, I just want you, only you, always and forever."

she turned her face away so he couldn't kiss her "This is cruel to her viserys."

His fingers dug into her waist, his voice coming out as a hoarse growl, frustration and desire mixing in his tone. "Why do you care so much about what happens to Dany? You're mine. You belong to me and I belong to you. She has to do her duty, even if it means offering her body and fertility to a barbarian. Why can't you just accept that?"

"... We ... Are not a possibility"

His grip on her tightened, his eyes narrowing as he watched her, a mixture of anger and hurt in his expression. "And why not? We're both Targaryen, I want you, you want me, we should be perfect together. So why can't we be a possibility?"

"we are siblings." She reminds

Viserys' jaw clenched, his breathing growing ragged. He knew she was right, but that didn't make it hurt any less. "I don't care. I don't care if it's a sin, if the Seven disapprove, if the Gods themselves send lightning to strike us down. All I know is that you drive me mad, that I want you, burn for you, need you more than anything in this world. And you cannot deny that you feel the same."

"targaryen wed brother to sister for thousands of years... But that time is over. No land would allow us to be as we wish."

His hands on her hips trembled as he struggled to hold himself back, his heart aching with frustration and unfulfilled desire. "Who cares what other lands allow, why should we care what the rest of the world thinks? We are Targaryens, dragonsblood coursing through our veins, we are above those pathetic mortals and their pitiful little rules. Why can't we just forget about the world and be together, you and me?"

she sighed and shifted her hips again "We aren't done discussing the matter"

He groaned as her hips moved against him again, his body responding to her unconsciously. He tried to focus on the conversation, but all he could think about was the fact she was on top of him, her body pressed against his, her breath on his face. He took a deep breath and tried to collect himself, his voice coming out as a hoarse whisper. "What further is there to discuss, my sweet sister?"

"when she is married, what will happen to us? She will be forced away with the dothraki as a breeding slave... And us? Are we to remain guests of illiro forever, worried always he is to sell us too?" She got faster

Viserys closed his eyes, fighting the wave of pleasure that washed over him as she picked up her pace, his hands on her hips now almost digging into her skin. His mind was struggling to focus, and he had to take another deep breath before responding, his voice coming out strained and hoarse. "No... I won't let that happen. I'm building an army, we will get our home back. I will be king, and you will be..." he trailed off, his breath catching in his throat as he let the fantasy play out in his mind. He stopped talking, his imagination conjuring up a vision of himself on the Iron Throne, with her sitting on a throne next to him. Him claiming her as his in front of the Seven Kingdoms and no one being able to protest their union. It was a tantalizing, seductive idea, one that made his heart hammer furiously in his chest, and the words spilled from his lips in a reverent whisper. "You will be my Queen."

"as tempting as that is. Where are we to live in the mean time? Here withilliro? With Dany and her horse lord slavers? Or go homeless while you build this army" she whispered against his lips as she moved her hands pulling her dress a little,

Her words broke into his fantasy, but the sight of her nearly naked body straddling him left him too distracted to think about the specifics of their situation. His hands roamed her body, roaming up her thighs, his fingers gripping her hips, his eyes drifting from her face to her chest. "We will stay here, for now. I need time to plan, to gather allies. We'll have to be patient, I'm afraid, my sweet sister."

"and If illrio betrays us?" She moved back down slowly gasping and softly moaning as she moved down his shaft,

Viserys gritted his teeth, his grasp on her tightening as he tried to focus on anything but the pleasure building within him. However, the sight of her sliding down his body, her breaths and noises adding fuel to the fire burning within him, made it near impossible to think straight. His voice came out as a hoarse whisper. "He won't. We need him, and he needs us. He knows that."

she grunted as she finally reached his hilt, "...does he?"

Viserys' breath hitched at the feel of her pressing against him, his eyes darkening with desire as his fingers dug into her hips, his head tipping back as he struggled to keep the last bit of his control. He spoke through gritted teeth, the words coming out as a primal growl. "He does. He better, otherwise he's a dead man."

"... The seven kingdoms will not be thrilled, of a set of twins as long and queen" she spoke as she nibbled his neck and began to ride

Viserys' head lolled back as she moved against him, his eyes closing as his body reacted to her touches and the feel of her mouth on his neck. He fought to keep his voice steady, his words coming out as a ragged whisper, his hands on her hips moving her faster against him, his own hips involuntarily bucking up to meet hers, his body on fire from the feel of her. "The Seven Kingdoms can go to hell, they have no say in what we do." His words dissolved into a deep growl, all sense and reason abandoned in the onslaught of pleasure and need. All he could think about was her, her body, her skin, her gasps and the way she rode him, driving him mad with desire. He moved his hands to her thighs, gripping them tightly, wanting to hold her in place and never let go. "I need you. Now."

she nodded and got faster riding at a decent pace the water moving around them

Viserys groaned deeply, the sound coming from deep within his chest. His hands on her thighs slid up to her hips, helping her move faster against him, his own body meeting hers with a need that bordered on primal. He tried to speak, but all coherent thought had left him, leaving only desire and need. "Gods, yes, keep going, don't stop." His lips found hers in a desperate, hungry kiss, his tongue slipping into her mouth, exploring and tasting her as his hands on her hips pulled her closer, desperate to feel more of her, his body pressed against hers. His breaths came in ragged gasps as he panted, the pleasure building and building, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. "You're driving me insane, sweet sister."

her hand trailed Into his hair during the kiss, her hips moving on their own mindlessly searching for pleasure

He groaned as her hand threaded through his hair, the feeling sending jolts of pleasure down his spine, adding to the unbearable ecstasy building inside him. His tongue tangled with hers, his hands on her hips guiding her movements, his own body reacting to her, his hips meeting hers in a frantic, desperate rhythm. "So close... don't stop, don't stop, please..."

she screamed biting his shoulder as she reached her orgasm her body trembling and freezing up clenching around him,

He cursed under his breath as her body shuddered and clenched around him, the sensation of her climaxing driving him over the edge as well, his own release crashing through him in a wave of ecstasy. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, a guttural, primal moan escaping him as he held her tight, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm. "Sweet sister... gods, you drive me mad with desire."

she gasped her head laying against his bare chest "We... We can't keep doing this..."

His hold on her hips loosened, his hands moving up to her waist, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her skin. His body was still thrumming with the aftershocks of pleasure, but her words sunk in, and he forced himself to be serious. "Why not? We both want it, we both need it."

"and what happens when my belly grows heavy?" She asked against his lips

His lips brushed against hers, his tongue darting out to taste her skin, his thoughts and feelings swirling within him. The mention of her belly rounding and growing was an image that caused his heart to clench in his chest, a mix of desire and tenderness stirring within him. "Then we will deal with it, together. And when your belly is heavy, I will worship you, my sweet sister, and I will kiss every inch of your body."

she chuckled "Would you sell our baby away for more army, as you do for Dany?"

He froze at her words, a stab of guilt and shame going through him at the thought, at the comparison. He held her tight, his fingers digging into her skin as he tried to form a response. "No, never. Our child would never be sold or bartered, I swear it. I would sooner sell my own soul than let anything or anyone harm a hair on our child's head."

"but our sister?"

He sighed, his heart heavy with guilt and regret at the mention of Daenerys. The reality of their situation weighed heavily on him, and he knew he couldn't deny the truth. "I had no choice," he murmured, his voice laced with pain and regret. "I need alliances and armies to take back my throne. I cannot do it on my own. If it means selling her off, then so be it."

"then why not me?"

His eyes darkened, and his jaw clenched at her words. The thought of selling her off, of giving her away to another man, sent a surge of anger and possessiveness through him. "Because you're different," he growled, his grip on her hips tightening. "You're mine, my sweet sister, and nobody else's. The mere thought of another man touching you, looking at you, claiming you... it drives me mad with rage." He pulled back slightly, meeting her gaze with an intensity that spoke of the depth of his feelings for her. He spoke in a low, hoarse voice, his eyes burning with a mixture of desire and determination. "You're mine, sweet sister, and I'll burn the entire world to the ground before I let anyone take you from me. You're mine to worship, to cherish, to protect. You will never be sold or bartered like a piece of property. You will be my queen, by my side, and none will dare question our union."

She nodded and laid on his chest with a slight sigh

He held her close, his arms wrapped around her tight, his fingers tracing gentle circles on her bare back. He took a deep, steadying breath, the feel of her on his chest bringing him a strange sense of comfort and peace. He spoke quietly, his voice soft and vulnerable. "I mean it, sweet sister. You're the most important thing in this world to me. I'd give up my throne, my crown, everything, just to keep you by my side. I love you."

"I love you too, I just worry for her is all. I worry for all of us." She says

He nodded, his expression somber as he thought of their sister. The weight of responsibility and worry weighed heavily on his shoulders. "I know, sweet sister, and I share your worries. I wish there was an easier path for us, a way to take back the Iron Throne without selling Dany off like cattle. But I see no other way. I need an army, and alliances, and I need them now."

she nodded pulling him into a kiss

He responded to her kiss, his lips moving against hers hungrily. His hands roamed her body, his touch desperate and possessive, as if he couldn't get close enough to her. He broke the kiss, his breathing ragged and his voice ragged. "I need you, sweet sister. I need you now."

[franzkafkagf]

my mother died giving me birth, and my father and my brother rhaegar even before that. i would never have known so much as their names if viserys had not been there to tell me. he was the only one left. the only one. he is all i have.

[lislemons]

asoiaf characters as posts that remind me of them part 23

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Burn with Me

Pairing: Viserys III Targaryen (Game of Thrones) x f!reader Warnings: Smut, imbalanced power dynamics, abuse of power. Word count: ~2k

Summary: Viserys shares a piece of his ancestry with his concubine.

Author's note: Day one of Smuffmas - candlelight and collaring. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

She steps into the tent that has been erected to serve as Viserys’ personal bathhouse and is immediately enveloped in humidity that clings to her skin like a shroud, as the opening falls closed behind her. True to his Targaryen nature, he favours the heat and, as such, always demands that the water be scalding before it fills the wooden tub, with as many candles lit as the surrounding space will allow, to ensure that it retains its heat.

The atmosphere within the canvas walls is one of resplendence; the rounded tub that sits in the far corner wafts viscous steam up into the air. The water’s surface reflects the vibrant orange glow of more candles than she can possibly count, all casting flickering shadows that dance upon the ceiling. The heady fragrance of Myrish oils lingers in the air, a potent aroma of cinnamon and ginger. Viserys refuses the use of Dothraki spiceflower in his bathwater, despite it being in abundance, and far less costly than oils and spices from the Free Cities.

“It is insult enough that I must exist among these savages,” he had once told her, “I will not smell like them too. See that my command is heeded, or you shall wake the dragon.”

He stands beside the bathtub, spine rigid and eyes narrowed in annoyance. She had come to him the moment she was summoned, yet she can tell from the subtle flare of his nostrils that he is impatient already.

Despite the gossamer fabric of the dress that drapes over her body, she can feel sweat prickling the back of her neck, dampening the hairs that rest at the base of it. She knows this is due to the stifling heat of the bathing tent, but the fearful hammering of her heart as Viserys eyes her in displeasure only serves to exacerbate it.

“About time,” he snaps irritably, beckoning her closer with a restive click of his fingers.

“Your grace,” she greets courteously, before he has the chance to scold her further, “allow me to help you.”

She steps in front of him, deft fingers moving over the forest green wool of the tunic that covers his lithe frame. It is a wildly impractical choice of fabric, considering the climate of Vaes Dothrak, but Viserys shuns more traditional garb in favour of wool and silk. One by one she pulls open the clasps, revealing the creamy, white flesh beneath.

During her time in the pleasure houses of Lys, she had lain with many men and grown accustomed to the sight of skin marred by battle scars and hardened by the ravages of hard labour. Viserys bears no such afflictions. He is thin, an unfortunate consequence of a life lived in squalor, but he has never known battle, he is soft and smooth, unblemished by conflict. She has silently wondered on many occasions how he could possibly ever hope to rule as king of Westeros if he is not competent with a sword, a musing she will never give voice to, lest she pay with her life for it. She has no doubt he will take no issue in wetting his blade with her blood, if provoked into doing so.

Despite his rakish appearance and short temper, she cannot help the appreciative gaze she casts upon him as she strips him of the remnants of his clothing. For all his flaws, Viserys is a handsome man; soft, silver waves of hair frame the hard lines of his face, a strong nose and chin accentuate the pierce of his gaze. His eyes carry madness within them, enticing with dangerous allure.

“Careful with that,” he commands, nodding to the tunic which she has picked back up to fold, “what’s in the pocket is worth at least five times more than what I paid for you.”

“Of course, your grace,” she replies simply, noticing the subtle weight the garment has to it that isn’t usually there.

“Bring it here,” he says to her, stepping into the tub and sitting down. The motion causes steamy water to slop over the sides, soaking into the clay coloured earth of the ground below, as he leans back, resting his elbows behind him on the edge.

“Not the tunic, stupid girl,” he spits, scowling as she steps forward with it, “just what’s in the pocket.”

She blinks rapidly, bowing her head, a fruitless attempt to will away the humiliation that burns hotly at her skin. Reaching into the pocket, she wraps her fingers around something hard, that feels cold against her skin despite the heat that hangs heavy in the air.

Pulling it free, she can see that it is a steel choker. Thick silver plates inlaid with large rubies make up the bulk of it, with a dainty chain that fastens it at the back. She has never held anything so valuable in her hands before, the very weight of it feels representative of its significance.

“I don’t suppose you have ever seen such opulence before,” Viserys tells her, drawing her attention back to him, to where he reclines in the bath, a smug smirk upon his face as he regards her pridefully.

She places the choker in his upturned, waiting palm. “Won’t it rust if you get it wet?”

Viserys grins, the gesture lighting up his face in a way that seems almost unnatural, as the ever present madness dances within the lilac of his eyes. “It is Valyrian steel, forged in dragon fire, it won’t rust, it can’t. Now disrobe and join me.”

He plays idly with the choker, running the chain through his fingers and holding the rubies up to the candlelight as she undresses, though it does not take her long. The near translucent dress is the only item of clothing that he will allow her to wear when tending to him, and it is rare that it stays on for long.

She hisses quietly at the burn of the water against her flesh as she climbs into the tub, the all encompassing heat making her legs tingle. She does not understand how Viserys can stand it, but then there is blood of the dragon coursing through his veins, so she supposes he barely notices it.

“Turn around,” he instructs, and she does as she’s told, presenting her back to him as she faces away. She can hear the splash of the water as he advances upon her within the small space, feel the water moving with him.

Dampened hands scoop her hair away from her neck, before he places the choker around it, carefully fastening it. It chills her skin, a strange juxtaposition to the clamminess that their surroundings elicit. It feels heavy and tight around her throat, more like a collar than a necklace, and as Viserys turns her roughly to face him, sending yet more water cascading over the sides of the bath, she can see that that was precisely his intent.

His eyes are wild as he appraises her, lips slightly parted. “This is hundreds of years old, it would have been worn by a Targaryen princess from the days of Old Valyria,” he tells her, his voice lowering, taking on the seductive timbre that he affects only when aroused. He hooks two fingers beneath the centre ruby, giving it a tug. “How does it make you feel?”

She swallows thickly, considering her answer, wanting to offer words that will please him. “It makes me feel…fortunate…to have the opportunity to wear something of such significance.”

He hums, clearly satisfied with her answer, giving a slight nod as he grasps her hips beneath the water and manhandles her into his lap. She can feel his hardened cock prodding insistently at her most intimate area as she settles into the position of straddling him, winding her arms around his neck, as his hands keep a firm grip of her.

“Ser Jorah came by this on his travels,” he tells her, eyes fixated upon her throat, “he was going to give it as a gift to my sister, but I have taken it for myself. I do not see why she should lay claim to such a valuable piece of our shared ancestry, just for spreading her legs and siring a whelp for that savage, Drogo.”

The tone of his voice drips with jealousy, and it makes her uncomfortable to be faced with his arousal, not for the first time, while he speaks of Daenerys. She knows that the Targaryens existed on a foundation of bloodline purity, however, those customs are queer to her and to be faced with the reality of their incestuous nature makes her stomach churn.

All thoughts leave her mind, however, as he tugs her downwards to meet his upward thrust, spearing her open on his cock with a grunt elicited through gritted teeth. She moans at the exquisite stretch, nuzzling into the crook of his neck as she clings tightly to him, her breaths hot against his wet skin.

Viserys keeps his hands upon her hips, helping to guide her movements as she rolls her pelvis against his, bouncing herself upon his aching length. Though he is often cruel to her, when he holds her close like this, and it is just the sounds of their mingling pants for breath and the slap of their skin, it is easy for her to forget that she was purchased for his pleasure, a means to distract him from the want to defile his sister.

When he holds her close, his harsh features contorted in ecstasy, the madness that dances within his eyes conveying only lust, she can allow herself to believe that she is special, that he chose her alone to travel with him and warm his bed because he wanted only her, not because the Beggar King could not afford more than one concubine. 

In her own foolish heart, she has allowed gratitude to be misplaced for love. The fondness she feels towards him for him having taken her from the pleasure houses of Lys, and rescuing her from the life of a common whore, in her mind, is romantic. 

So when he takes one of the stiffened peaks of her nipples between thumb and forefinger and pinches harshly, she mewls wantonly as the sensation causes her sensitive walls to clench around him, wanting him to know just how good he makes her feel, how eager she is to please him.

If he did not return her affection, why else would he allow her to wear the choker that currently sits snug against her throat?

She speeds up her movements, the bathwater undulating around them with more intensity. The head of his cock bullies relentlessly at a spot inside of her that, coupled with the lightheadedness she feels from the heat of the water, makes her forget herself entirely. Before she can stop them, the words tumble carelessly from her lips.

“I love you.”

He halts all movements, and she freezes, her heart hammering wildly against her ribcage as she realises what she has just said. She opens her mouth, wanting to apologise, to take it back, to beg for forgiveness, but before she can he’s grasping her jaw, forcing her to meet the intensity of his stare.

“Say it again,” he orders quietly, leaving no room for argument.

She is hesitant at first, but he tangles his fingers into the back of her hair, not allowing her to look away, so she relents. “I–I love you.”

He snarls, tugging harshly at her hair as he resumes his brutal thrusts up into her. “That’s right, you fucking do.”

For the briefest of moments, she had allowed herself to believe he might say it back, and is not even given the respite to experience disappointment, as he chases his release within her. Her confession of love having been enough to stroke his ego to the point of climax, evidenced by the insistent pulsating of his member as he pumps it in and out of her with renewed vigour.

He holds her tightly against himself, pushing himself as far up into her as he can go as he peaks, spilling inside of her with a shameless groan, before settling back down, her body pliant against his as they both catch their breath.

“I’m finished with you for tonight. Leave me,” he says despondently, as his rapidly softening cock slips free of her.

She offers a curt nod, disentangling herself from him and climbing on shaky legs from the tub, bathwater and Viserys’ seed both dripping down her thighs, as she reaches for her dress, clutching it to herself to protect what little remains of her modesty.

“Wait,” he snaps, and for a moment she believes he will tell her he has changed his mind, that he longs for her company. Instead he snaps his fingers, gesturing to her neck. “The necklace.”

Her heart sinks, but she forces her expression to remain stoic, unclasping it and depositing it back into his outstretched palm. Her neck feels immediately lighter, having been freed from the weight of it. However, as she walks from the tent, it is replaced with a heaviness upon her heart that reminds her irrevocably of her place - or lack thereof - in the world of Viserys Targaryen.

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[aeriondripflame]

ON SIBLINGS, VISERYS & DAENERYS TARGARYEN.

george r.r. martin, a song of ice and fire. game of thrones (2011). steven berkoff, the fall of the house of usher. the crane wives — never love an anchor. jake55778, the house with the red door. james baldwin, giovanni’s room. the 100 (2014). fear street (2021). succession (2018). pierce brown, red rising.

[witchlingcirce]

I think about how there played by the same actor all the time bro

[barbieaemond]

HARRY LLOYD as VISERYS TARGARYEN III | Game of Thrones S1E1