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uniasus · 6 months

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Whumptober - Day 19 - BBC Merlin

This is part larger fill that's already on Ao3 if you wanna read the whole thing.

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“Catmor can’t see him,” Arthur whispers, and the secret Arthur thinks they all know but won’t voice haunts his sentence.

Merlin tried to hide the impact the collar has on him, and he’s been doing a good job. But he stays too close to the Camelot knights and they all noticed the way he struggled while wearing it. A struggle the other slaves – temporary or not – aren’t sharing. Merlin’s reaction is unique, and the answer came to Arthur the second night as he watched Merlin sleep.

The collar looked like jewelry, but it was iron.

Not pure. Too much gold had been pressed into, or some other ore in its forging. But enough. He’d whispered it to Leon and Gwaine just that morning, a simple statement of fact. “There’s a chunk of iron in the collar.”

It took Gwaine longer to catch on, but when he did, he simply nodded. Way more accepting than Arthur’s light night musing, or Leon’s pressed lips.

Iron is known to have properties that only harm one type of creature.

If Catmor knows, Arthur has no clue, but for all that magic hasn’t been a topic of conversation the past three days, there is a dearth of it in Midden. Catmor seems smart enough, or at least his backers are, to know most kingdoms in the Isles don’t approve of magic. He could be building affinity between Midden and the other Five Kingdoms, only to bring sorcerers from across the sea to launch an attack next year. Or he could truly see no place for magic in his kingdom.

Either way, he doesn’t want him to find out about Merlin. Nor any of the other kingdom’s emissaries.

“If you leave this room for breakfast,” Gwaine snarls, “Merlin will have to be at your side, collared. We don’t know how much he’ll recover tonight, but he’ll sure as hell need more than a night’s sleep.”

“He didn’t eat supper,” Arthur confesses. “I tried to sneak him something at the feast, but I don’t think he noticed.”

“No,” says Leon. He reaches for Merlin’s boots and pulls them off.

Arthur watches Leon and Gwaine make Merlin comfortable, not able to allow himself to touch the other man. It feels wrong. Arthur is supposed to protect Merlin, keep him safe, and he is failing. He has no right to help settle the man.

#whumptober 2023 #no 19 #not stupid #bbc merlin #fic #arthur pendragon #sir gwaine #sir leon #magic suppression #slave collar #merlin whump #my fanfiction #snippet

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hockeydogwoof · 1 year

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SeaHawk knows there are at least a few out there who’d be eager to get on all fours and service that shiny Osiris rear paw. ;-)

#osiris shoes #skate shoes #osiris bronx #pvc pants #vinyl pants #rubber pants #shiny pants #seattle seahawks #seahawks helmet #football helmet #helmet #slave collar #steel collar #spiked collar #hockey gloves #eagle hockey gloves #football jersey #seahawks jersey

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agentrouka-blog · 2 years

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Tyrion strangled Shae with the gold chain. Then we have Dany bound to Hizdahr with golden chain as marriage custom of Meereen. Though Dany is not loyal to him and Meereen and ultimately choose her dragons. Shae was a pawn used by Lannisters for their games. Do you think gold chains are here represent loyalty?

I’m not sure loyalty is the theme I get from this.

The chain of hands is a symbol of power for Tyrion, which he very jealously resents Tywin taking away from him again.

The Lord of Casterly Rock was as lean as a man twenty years younger, even handsome in his austere way. Stiff blond whiskers covered his cheeks, framing a stern face, a bald head, a hard mouth. About his throat he wore a chain of golden hands, the fingers of each clasping the wrist of the next. "That's a handsome chain," Tyrion said. Though it looked better on me. (ASOS, Tyrion I)

GRRM takes care to explicitly link the chain to Shae, as well, the chew toy Tywin tried to forbid him that Tyrion insisted on secretly bringing along to KL. His Tysha-replacement. His projection surface. His trauma reenactment object.

The golden chain is not a symbol of loyalty at all. It is a symbol of captivity. Emotional captivity in past hurt and the inability to let go, the illusion of recovery through power and retaliation.

This is Shae, after Tyrion just left Alayaya in captivity to protect Shae:

Shae sat cross-legged in the canopied bed, nude but for the heavy golden chain that looped across the swell of her breasts: a chain of linked golden hands, each clasping the next. (ACOK, Tyrion XII)

Dressed in his chain and nothing else. A sign of protection? No. Power and games and vanity.

Tywin takes the chain away that symbol of a political office Tyrion inexplicably feels he is owed.

He would have donned his chain of golden hands as well, if his father hadn't stolen it while he lay dying. (ASOS, Tyrion II)

Just like he feels Tywin stole Tysha from his arms. Does he send Shae away to protect her, did he try to free Alayaya by telling the truth? No. He wants to win this power game against his family.

Tyrion is chained up by his own pride and anger and unprocessed trauma. He won’t or can’t look beyond it to the human beings that are the women involved. He sees only himself. And the game.

Alas, he loses big. And to add another insult, Tywin steals his chew toy:

Big wet tears filled her eyes. "I never meant those things I said, the queen made me. Please. Your father frightens me so." She sat up, letting the blanket slide down to her lap. Beneath it she was naked, but for the chain about her throat. A chain of linked golden hands, each holding the next. (...) Tyrion slid a hand under his father's chain, and twisted. The links tightened, digging into her neck. "For hands of gold are always cold, but a woman's hands are warm," he said. He gave cold hands another twist as the warm ones beat away his tears.(ASOS, Tyrion XI)

So Tyrion kills them both. How naturally that came to him. Has it happened before?

Each time he gave the chain another twist the golden hands dug deeper. A chain and a keep are nothing, compared to a woman's kiss. Had he kissed her one last time, after she was dead? He could not remember … though he still recalled the first time they had kissed, in his tent beside the Green Fork. How sweet her mouth had tasted.

He remembered the first time with Tysha as well. She did not know how, no more than I did. We kept bumping our noses, but when I touched her tongue with mine she trembled. Tyrion closed his eyes to bring her face to mind, but instead he saw his father, squatting on a privy with his bedrobe hiked up about his waist. "Wherever whores go," Lord Tywin said, and the crossbow thrummed. (ADWD, Tyrion II)

The image is certainly one he returns to again and again, same as with Tysha.

He thought of Shae and the look in her eyes as he tightened the chain about her throat, twisting it in his fist. A chain of golden hands. (ADWD, Tyrion IX)

There are competing themes of power and captivity to the chains of gold. Decoration and restraint. Protection and violence. There’s something very Jacob Marley about the chains, except its a self-forged prison made of past hurt.

Jaime’s hands are chained throughout much of his ASOS journey, and freeing them is his most fervent desire until his sword hand is cut off. Jaime spends his time constantly preoccupied with his anger at the horrible injustice of being called kingslayer for his “finest act”, and his disillusionment with knighthood, later with Cersei’s betrayal. But his own complicity, his own choices? Skirted around. The sword hand will be replaced by his hand of gold. He tries to rebuild himself around that loss, the sword hand, the physical power that was his sole identity. The hand of Lannister gold, “Goldenhand the Just” is not the solution, because Jaime doesn’t truly put in the work of shaking off his psychological chains.

There’s parallels to the wedding chain between Daenerys and Hizdahr, yes. She chains herself to him, just as she chained her dragons. But she will ride off on Drogon, and the dragons will snap their chains. Because those chains aren’t the real thing binding her.

Another wedding gives better clues:

The girl slid the gilded sandals onto her feet, while the old woman fixed the tiara in her hair, and slid golden bracelets crusted with amethysts around her wrists. Last of all came the collar, a heavy golden torc emblazoned with ancient Valyrian glyphs."Now you look all a princess," the girl said breathlessly when they were done. Dany glanced at her image in the silvered looking glass that Illyrio had so thoughtfully provided. A princess, she thought, but she remembered what the girl had said, how Khal Drogo was so rich even his slaves wore golden collars. She felt a sudden chill, and gooseflesh pimpled her bare arms. (AGOT, Daenerys I)

Decoration and restraint. Power and captivity. The purple amethyst handcuffs and the Valyrian glyphs on her collar paint a vivid picture of Dany as a captive of her own dragon identity. The metaphorical restraints are what makes her a princess. Her claim rests on Fire and Blood and she cannot let go.

More of the same imagery:

Jorah Mormont accepted his collar in a sullen silence, but Penny began to cry as the armorer was fastening her own into place. "It's so heavy," she complained.

Tyrion squeezed her hand. "It's solid gold," he lied. "In Westeros, highborn ladies dream of such a necklace." Better a collar than a brand. A collar can be removed. He remembered Shae, and the way the golden chain had glimmered as he twisted it tighter and tighter about her throat. (ADWD, Tyrion X)

A collar could be removed, yes. But you won’t, Tyrion. You’re too comfortable using the chain as a weapon.

But that is an apt description for the role of highborn ladies in Westeros. See also:

His eldest daughter stepped forward hesitantly. She was dressed in blue velvets trimmed with white, a silver chain around her neck. (...) He left the room with his eyes burning and his daughter's wails echoing in his ears, and found the direwolf pup where they chained her. Ned sat beside her for a while. "Lady," he said, tasting the name. (AGOT, Eddard III)

Decorated with the symbols of their oppression. She’ll wear the same chain when she pleads for Ned’s life.

But even knowing, deep down, the true power dynamics in play, Tyrion does his best to evade digging deeper into what a monster he is. He comes close...

The Stranger had mounted his pale mare and was riding toward them with his sword in hand, but Tyrion Lannister did not care to meet with him again. Not now. Not yet. Not this day. What a fraud you are, Imp. You let a hundred guardsmen rape your wife, shot your father through the belly with a quarrel, twisted a golden chain around your lover's throat until her face turned black, yet somehow you still think that you deserve to live. (TWOW, Tyrion I)

... and yet it is followed by another moment of barely avoided monstrosity. Against Penny of all people. Because he is lost in black rage and memory. Chained to the past.

"You're brave. Little people can be brave."

My giant of Lannister, he heard. She is mocking me. He almost slapped her again. His head was pounding.

"I never meant to make you angry," Penny said "Forgive me. I'm frightened, is all." She touched his hand.

Tyrion wrenched away from her. ""I'm frightened." Those were the same words Shae had used. Her eyes were big as eggs, and I swallowed every bit of it. I knew what she was. I told Bronn to find a woman for me and he brought me Shae. His hands curled into fists, and Shae's face swam before him, grinning. Then the chain was tightening about her throat, the golden hands digging deep into her flesh as her own hands fluttered against his face with all the force of butterflies. If he'd had a chain to hand...if he'd had a crossbow, a dagger, anything, he would have...he might have...he... It was only then that Tyrion heard the shouts. He was lost in a black rage, drowning in a sea of memory, but the shouting brought the world back in a rush. He opened his hands, took a breath, turned away from Penny. "Something's happening." He went outside to discover what it was. Dragons. (TWOW, Tyrion I)

He was going to do it again. Over nothing but a perceived insult to his pride.

The golden chain is certainly not a symbol of loyalty. Only the monstrosity that can breed from trauma left to fester, and the injustice it visits on the powerless.

#anti tyrion lannister #golden chain #chain of hands #slave collar #trauma #shae #tysha #jaime lannister #cycle of abuse #cycle of violence #anti daenerys targaryen #rouka queue

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sw5w · 6 months

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Una Cheechee Toowa

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 00:52:49

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musclesandpunishment · 1 month

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Hot slaveboy working in a villa garden.

#male model #gym #workout #abs & pecs #muscle #biceps #chest #gay art #gayhot #slave collar #bd/sm slave #dominated slave #chained #bd/sm blog #slave task #slave boy #houseboy #hard work #hard labor

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leatheranduniform · 2 years

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This Master has an anxious slave, who took the photo, about to be collared and fastened to the cross for a training session that will leave both men exhausted. They will demonstrate total commitment to one another; the master now how far to push His slave and how much further the slave can be pushed. If these guys wanted soft sex they would be in a twinkie bar but that is not what they want. They want hard Man on Man sex.

#Leather master #Leather Uniform #Slave collar #boots #stiefel

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uniasus · 6 months

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Whumptober 23 - Day 17 - BBC Merlin

This whole fill turned into 2.5K so I'll add it to my whump 23 collection on Ao3 once I edit it, but for now have the bit related to today's prompt.

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Merlin tries to think of it as a game. Dress up. Just like when other royalty comes to Camelot dressed in their finest with well-crafted leather tack and embroidered cloaks, so Arthur has to dress up when he visits another kingdom. And just like sometimes visiting princesses like to dress in red or gold as homage to their host (and maybe show off how good they’d look in Camelot’s colors) so too is Arthur partaking in Midden’s fashion sense.

Which so happens to be slaves.

He does his best to ignore the itch, but it’s hard. The collar around his neck was a gift from Midden’s new king, Catmor, and engraved and enameled the way a pendant might be. He was too new a king to have had it commissioned, so it had to have been something from his backers across the sea. Backers that allowed him to sail to the Isles and capture a small kingdom.

His sudden arrival, and vilent taking of a chunk of the ruins of Daobeth, made many rules nervous. Not enough for Uther to come himself, but for him to send his heir at least. A sign of respect, Uther had claimed, to the man sitting in a ruined citadel that had once been the greatest in the Five Kingdoms and had that potential again, despite the dragon-chared stone.

“Don’t upset him,” Uther had told his son. “Do what he wants, for this trip at least.”

And King Catmor had requested small retinues – one representative, two guards, and one slave for serving.

Arthur had apologized as he put it around Merlin’s neck before they came in sight of the new kingdom, Leon and Gwaine looking on as Arthur promised to remove it any chance he could. Merlin had believed him, of course he did, and Arthur had held true to that promise.

It’s just hard tonight.

It’s their third night. Arthur had begged tired the first two, first from their travels, the second from a tour around the city, which had really been excuses for Arthur to hang out in his chambers and remove the collar from Merlin’s neck.

He’d hissed when he saw it the first night, swore the second. There was no mirror for Merlin to look into to see how bad it was, but he could guess the severity by the grimace on Arthur’s face. Merlin told him that it was fine. He’d survive. It was just chaffing.

It wasn’t just chaffing.

From the outside, the enamel made it hard to tell what the collar was made of. Yet Merlin knew exactly what it was from the first click around his neck. Iron. It’d been tempered with some other metal, it wasn’t the cold iron that disrupted magic, but it was pure enough Merlin could feel the effects. Itching where it touched his skin. A strain on his throat, like it was being squeezed and hard to breathe. A hitch in his lungs as the longer he wore it, the harder it became to breathe.

#whumptober 2023 #no 17 #collar #bbc merlin #fic #merlin emrys #slave collar #suffocation

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