#but then softens when arthur starts speaking more earnestly

[karamazovim]

A personal pet peeve of mine is the take that Arthur’s mistake in 5x05 was trusting Merlin over his own better judgment, meanwhile Merlin was acting purely out of a desire to protect Arthur (as his friend) at the cost of any chance at magic going free.

Like, first of all, Arthur’s ‘better judgment’ was not telling him that magic should be free. That whole speech leading up to him asking Merlin what he should do was all about the harm magic has done and how it’s taken everything from him, and then at the end he tacks on “but idk maybe it’s not pure evil”. It’s a somewhat weak (from his perspective) rationalization for saving Mordred at the cost of “magic reigning in Camelot once again” - something he fears.

Could Merlin have convinced Arthur to accept the Disir’s deal? Maybe, maybe not. We’ve seen throughout the show- and even just in this episode- that Arthur takes Merlin’s advice to heart sometimes but also often dismisses it out of hand, or hears him out but still ultimately disagrees. Which is fine and normal, but it means that just saying “Merlin should have convinced him” ignores Arthur’s agency in making the decision.

I think it’s noteworthy that Merlin spends the majority of the episode before that point trying to get Arthur to take the Old Religion seriously. He warns him not to bring weapons into a sacred space. He points out that Osgar- a sorcerer- absolutely could have killed Arthur but chose not to. He smiles for the first time in three days when Arthur asks if he should take the Disir seriously and Merlin replies that he already is.

And speaking of Merlin’s goals: Obviously, his treatment of Mordred throughout this season is both deeply unfair and highly counterproductive; I’m not arguing that point. But I simply don’t understand the reading that it’s driven solely by his love for Arthur (whether romantic or platonic) and not at all his faith in their shared destiny. Because I don’t think that his feelings towards Arthur are extricable from Arthur’s prophesied role in bringing about the Golden Age and returning magic to the land.

I understand that “magic has no place in Camelot” is a very hard-line statement — one that undoubtedly sets back the pro-magic agenda. He didn’t have to do all that. But I still don’t necessarily believe this signals him “giving up” on ending magical oppression in the long term. He’s banking on the sequence of events the prophecies have supposedly laid out: [1] keep Arthur alive (by removing perceived threats), [2] show him tangible evidence that magic can be used for good (see: Dragoon, the Dolma, etc.), [3] Albion!!

Arguably the most significant part of that plan is that Arthur genuinely comes to believe in magic’s potential for good. Which is not what would be happening if he was forced to legalize it for Mordred’s sake. Doing it that way would provide very little security for magic users because [a] it could easily be undone (especially if Mordred did end up killing Arthur) and [b] it means Arthur would have very little incentive to actually enforce any new laws protecting sorcerers.

So, yeah, Merlin is a dick to Mordred. He loses out on chances to connect outside of a very few rare moments and repeatedly leaves him to fend for himself in dangerous situations. I hate that; I wish it didn’t have to be that way, even though it makes sense that the deeply traumatized and paranoid Merlin we see in S5 is making these calls.

But Merlin is not selfishly and single-handedly responsible for throwing away the lives of all his fellow oppressed magic-users out of blind love for Arthur Pendragon. He’s not innocent, and he’s certainly not without flaws, but he’s not That either.

#bbc merlin #5x05 #the disir #i’m sorry for ranting but it bugs me!! #i love so much abt this ep because merlin is so visibly Pissed abt the knights’ behavior #when arthur asks if he hasn’t gotten rid of the injustices of the past #and there’s an audible pause before merlin SO grudgingly answers #‘…you have.’ #homeboy is three seconds away from saying something he’ll regret #but then softens when arthur starts speaking more earnestly #I mean come on #look me in the eye and tell me he’s given up on magic

[gallifreyanlibertea]

Sweet (1/2)

a/n: I know JACK SHIT about baking and cooking shows so don’t come at me

click here for part two

also @mi-chan4649 gave me the name for the baking show LOL thanks for literally being my cheerleader 

It wasn’t hard to place a bet on who would end up being the most loved this season.

“Hello, bakers!” Arthur came out from behind the main doors to the large kitchen, followed by gasps and applause from the contestants, and it wasn’t quite hard at all to find the one out of the eight bakers that would inevitably end up a viewer-favorite. The cameras would focus the most on that tanned skin, on that dimpled smile, on the baby blues behind the frames of those glasses.

Arthur would be expected to put him under the spotlight as well, he assumed, in the later episodes. With a face like that contestant had, dear god, what it would do to their ratings.

“I’m Arthur Kirkland,” Arthur had said, crossing his arms. “Welcome to The Next Sugar Daddy.”

His dialogue was followed by laughter, as it always was when he introduced the downright ridiculous name that Francis Bonnefoy had fought to title the show. “Ah, I see some potential sugar mummies and sugar-parents in this mix as well. How are you all today?”

And like he’d expected, the, er, attractive one was the first to speak. Arthur found it hard to maintain a distant composure when his attention was almost demanded by the man who seemed to radiate confidence as well as charm. It was so much so that the contestants had all flocked to the man within the first few minutes of filming the episode. They now stood around next him, like the loyal subjects to a King.

“It’s kinda hot in here, to be honest.” He’d made a show of flapping his shirt, and Arthur opened his mouth with a reply already in mind- a quip about Francis being too cheap to install air conditioners- before the man continued. “And you in that suit of yours isn’t helping either.”

Despite being a world-renowned host of successful T.V. food competitions, and being a part-time novel writer, Arthur forgot how to speak English.

“Ah- I, um…”

Francis seemed to find this funny, and the fact that his laughter came out as wheezes didn’t help Arthur’s situation one bit.

“I’d better go change my suit then.” Was the dialogue Arthur had decided on, red-faced. “Dreadfully sorry about that.”

Needless to say, they’d figured out the ‘game’ for this season’s show.

In the last season, it had been a contestant’s unhealthy obsession with the judge, Francis Bonnefoy, and Arthur and the cameramen had been instructed to amplify it. It bode well for the show’s statistics, and quite well with Arthur himself, seeing Francis as uncomfortable as he was.

That game had definitely been better than the one before it, when a contestant had insisted Francis and Arthur had been secretly in love, and the two had been forced to play along as a humorous appeal to their audience. It had come as a shock to them that apparently, more than one of their numerous viewers had come to that “in-love” conclusion as well.

It had been torture.

But now, it seemed, it was Arthur’s turn alone. If this contestant kept up with his apparent interest in Arthur, the production crew would do whatever it took to utilize it to their benefit.

And the contestant most definitely did.

“Round one- as you all know, your task is to introduce yourself so the judge can get to know you… but with a sweet twist.”

Arthur paused for effect, so the camera crew could get a good shot of the theatrical looks on the contestants’ faces. “You will be given ninety minutes to prepare a cupcake that represents you, and you will be graded on originality, taste, and presentation. Your time starts now.”

This was Arthur’s favorite part. It was to watch as the contestants hurried to their places, brows furrowed in thought. The first five minutes was a valuable time for the camera crew to get videos of panicked faces, and for Arthur to scan his handy sheet for names and quick notes he’d been given about the characters of the contestants.

“His name is Alfred Jones,” Francis whispered and Arthur ignored him, squinting down at the sheet in his hands as Francis peeked over his shoulder.

“Shouldn’t you be in your seat looking stoic?”

“They don’t turn the camera to us for a good ten minutes, Kirkland, now what else does it say about him?”

“Shut up, Francis.” He spared a small glance at Alfred’s workstation only to find the boy gazing intently back at him. Alfred grinned abashedly before turning back down to his work, and Arthur hoped to every god on earth that his pasty white skin wasn’t blushing on camera. “I think it’s some sort of tactic to win the show- to soften up the host, yeah?”

Francis shrugged.

A quick cue from a cameraman told Arthur it was time to walk about and get words out of the contestants.

“What’s going on here?” Arthur said with a smile, and contestant number one began to ramble on about the themes within his cupcakes. A quick glance at his sheet and Arthur looked back up, “So you own your own bakery?”

It wasn’t something Arthur was proud of, but he found that his interest level hadn’t nearly been as high with the others as it was the moment he stepped toward Alfred Jones’ workspace.

“What do we have here, Mr. Jones?”

And if what he saw wasn’t what he’d expected, Arthur didn’t know what would be.

Alfred had decided to display something patriotic, something American, with apple-pie sorts of flavoring in the frosting and red and blue sprinkles of edible glitter.

“I had initially wanted to go with a chocolate, protein-shake kinda thing,” Alfred said earnestly. He then let his lip quirk up in something of a smirk, “You know, since I work out a lot.”

“I see that,” Arthur said, and Alfred turned his attention back to his work with a laugh that had Arthur turning away from the cameras to wait out the red flush in his cheeks.

Get a bloody hold of yourself.

Then, Arthur was back at Francis’ side, aware of the cameras poised in their direction as Francis spoke. “I always look forward to this round because it’s quite interesting to see what they come up with.”

“It’s a good gauge of personality and skill.” Arthur said in response, “Not many people try their hardest on this round, on the basis that it’s only an introduction, which gives us a pretty good understanding of their base-level of expertise.”

Time went by slower when he wasn’t the one baking furiously to secure a place in the competition, Arthur found, yet it hadn’t gone by all too slowly for him either.

His job while the competitors baked was fairly easy. It was to pace around with an inquisitive look on his face and make conversation with Francis, as a sort of gossip about what desserts were being made.

Soon, Arthur was stepping right back to the front of the room, eyes glancing at the large clock mounted behind him, “Bakers, please step away from your creations!”

A pause for dramatic effect, for the cameras to catch the looks of relief and sometimes despair on sweaty, flour-streaked faces.

And then, the judging began.

“Mr. Anderson, please explain your cupcake,” Arthur said, with a smile he liked to call not here, nor there. It was a trick he’d picked up over his years of hosting competitions, a look on his face that served as a complete opposite to what he was meant to do- to comfort contestants.

Instead, this smile served to put them on edge. It served to elicit a look from their faces so priceless that it always made it into the final edit.

Francis would watch patiently as the man explained his creation, and he would break into it with his little fork, face as stony as he could manage.

It was funny considering the faces Francis liked to make when he ate. He was a proper food-whore, really.

“I find this to be a little soggy-” It was also a bit funny to watch a previously cocky contestant’s face melt into one of horror after a harsh critique.

Arthur was definitely bitter enough to enjoy something like this, and those who were close to him often wondered how he made it as a host, someone meant to be warm and friendly, when in fact, Arthur found himself having to hold back a smile as a man who’d been particularly rude to him walked back to his station with head hung low.

“Mr. Jones,” Arthur called, and Alfred seemed to brace himself. He held his chin up, rolled his shoulders back, and popped a quick smile on his face as he placed his plate on Francis’ table.

Arthur found himself rooting for the man.

“Here I have a-” Arthur tuned out Alfred’s long ingredient list and in turn, found himself gazing at the cupcake on the plate. It was rather colorful, with icing piped in red and blue, and what seemed to be a small flag on it.

“A rainbow flag.” Alfred explained with a grin, “I love men, all sizes, shapes, and colors, baby.”

“Amen to that,” Francis replied with a hearty chuckle that Arthur couldn’t help rolling his eyes at. “Well, Alfred, there’s no denying your presentation is very beautiful.”

Arthur steeled himself right alongside Alfred.

“And, I have to say, so are your flavors.”

Brilliant! The look on Alfred’s face brought a short-lived smile onto Arthur’s own. It was one that a cameraman had moved to capture- oh fuck, they were going to put that face on television, weren’t they, Arthur clenched his jaw back into a look of indifference.

Francis had pointed it out that evening, after the contestants went home to rest and the crew had been left to look at the footage. “Aw, look, how sweet!”

“Shut up, Francis.” Arthur had snapped. “Are we really going to focus on this?”

Francis hid a smile behind his hand, “There’s nothing an audience loves more to watch than a blooming romance in the midst of a competition. Haven’t you seen all the best-selling novels these days?”

This would be hell for the poor Jones boy, Arthur deduced.

It was only natural that a man like Alfred be used to flirting around for fun. He hadn’t meant anything of it, and now it would be blown out of proportion for the sake of show ratings.

Arthur supposed that’s how the world worked.

“Watch this,” Francis said one day, with what sounded like a giggle, and Arthur scooted in, peering over his shoulder.

What the audience never saw was the long breaks between each round, up to days of preparation time for the bakers while the production team met each day to watch footage and conduct interviews that could be pieced into the final edit.

“I don’t have a boyfriend back home,” Alfred said into the camera, teeth flashing in a big grin. “I never really had the time or the attraction.”

“And what are you usually attracted to?” The interviewer said. His prompt would later be cut out, so Alfred had to answer in full sentences.

“I usually like a good personality in a person, someone who enjoys my company as much as I enjoy theirs, and who doesn’t like good looks?”

“Does Arthur Kirkland fit into this at all?”

Arthur buried his face in his palms.

Alfred, on the laptop screen, paused. He then grinned, “Arthur Kirkland is definitely my type.”

#this was purely purely purely for myself #this is also a prime example of my deteriorating writing skill but I also don't give a fuck lololol #aph america #aph england #usuk #my fanfiction #I hope some of y'all will appreciate this au because Alfred as a baker is underappreciatedddd