avery :P

and then one day someone invents the camera. and suddenly merlin realizes people can keep faces now. people can carry the people they love with them. people can look at them whenever they want.

arthur died more than a thousand years before anyone thought to preserve a face.

there are probably millions of photographs in the world and merlin would trade every single one of them for one blurry photo of arthur. a picture he could keep in his wallet until the edges wore away. a picture he could look at on lonely nights when the waiting became unbearable. a picture to prove that arthur was real. that he existed.

1. Arthur is in love with merlin.

2. In Arthur’s eyes merlin really is the oddest, most clumsy little weirdo, and the only reason he keeps this apparently lazy and completely incompetent servant around is because he’s in love with merlin.

3. Arthur never ever thinks twice about situations. “The immortal army that could not be killed suddenly explodes? Lucky me, I guess, let’s move on”, or “I struck this golden dragon as big as a castle and it knocked me out. Merlin said I dealt it a mortal blow and it flew off and is now dead. Sounds reasonable!” or, “this man who lives on a bridge called me Courage and said I needed Strength and Magic to complete my quest, and then later Gwaine and Merlin showed up and saved my life. Wasn’t that a fun time?”

4. Merlin is Arthur’s only true friend.

5. Arthur thinks he’s the smoothest, most valiant, heroic and romantic knight in all the lands, but he’s actually the most heartbroken, lonely, pathetic prince with daddy issues Camelot has ever seen.

What the fuck was the point?

For FIVE SEASONS we get beaten over the head with this prophecy. Arthur is the Once and Future King. Arthur is the great hope of Albion. Arthur will unite the land. Arthur will usher in an age of peace. Arthur will restore the balance between the Old Religion and the new world. Arthur will create a kingdom where magic users can finally live openly and freely.

Also Arthur:

"RIGHT THEN YOU ARCANE SHITWEASEL, OFF TO THE EXECUTION BLOCK."

LIKE???

WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE???

WHAT HAS BEEN THE POINT OF ANY OF THIS???

Five seasons.

Five.

Fucking.

Seasons.

And before anyone starts screaming:

"BUT ARTHUR WAS INDOCTRINATED!!!"

YES.

WE KNOW.

EVERYONE KNOWS.

The writers remind us every six and a half fucking minutes.

Arthur was indoctrinated.

Arthur inherited prejudice.

Arthur inherited fear.

That explains Season 1.

Maybe Season 2.

Maybe even Season 3.

But by Season 5?

FUCK OFF.

By Season 5 Arthur has personally witnessed enough evidence to fill seventeen libraries.

He has met good magic users.

Been saved by magic users.

Protected by magic users.

Helped by magic users.

Rescued by magic users.

Loved by magic users.

His entire fucking existence is being held together with magical duct tape applied by Merlin.

Arthur should be dead.

Like "worms renting his ribcage" dead.

Like "here lies Arthur Pendragon, survived by absolutely nobody because he died in Season 1" dead.

Merlin saves this man so many times it's genuinely hilarious.

Poison. Assassins. Monsters. Curses. Wraiths. Goblins. Dragons. Immortal armies. Murderous priests. Psychotic sorcerers. Bad writing decisions.

Merlin saves him from EVERYTHING.

At some point Arthur should have accidentally tripped over enough magical interventions to start asking questions.

Instead his brain apparently has the memory retention of a concussed turnip.

Every episode follows the same fucking pattern.

Arthur:

"Magic is evil."

Episode Events:

Magic saves Arthur.

Magic saves Camelot.

Magic saves the kingdom.

Magic saves his friends.

Magic saves the economy.

Magic cures cancer.

Magic solves inflation.

Magic personally tucks Arthur into bed.

Arthur at the end:

"Hmmm.

Anyway.

Magic bad."

YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKING WALNUT.

ARE YOU LEARNING?

ARE THE GEARS TURNING?

IS THERE ANYONE HOME?

HELLO?

HELLOOOOO?

Knock knock.

Anybody inside the Chosen One's skull?

Or is it just two exhausted hamsters taking turns falling off a wheel?

The SHOW keeps telling us Arthur is changing.

The SHOW keeps telling us Arthur is becoming the king he was meant to be.

The SHOW keeps telling us we're witnessing growth.

Meanwhile I'm sitting there watching the same lesson get taught for the 493rd time.

It's like watching someone repeatedly touch a stove.

"Ow."

Episode ends.

Next episode.

"What's this?"

Touches stove.

"Ow."

Arthur's character development has the forward momentum of a dead ox being dragged through cement.

And then we get to Merlin.

Oh sweet merciful CHRIST.

MERLIN.

The most gaslit man in television history.

This poor bastard sacrifices EVERYTHING for Arthur.

Everything.

His identity. His freedom. His happiness. His relationships. His future. His emotional stability. His fucking sanity.

Merlin spends a decade walking around like an unpaid magical crisis-management department.

Nobody thanks him. Nobody knows. Nobody appreciates him.

The man is basically Camelot's invisible life-support machine.

And the entire reason he keeps suffering is because everyone keeps telling him:

"Trust the prophecy."

"The future will be worth it."

"Arthur will change."

"Arthur will understand."

"Arthur will bring freedom."

"Arthur will create a golden age."

"Arthur will become the king magic users deserve."

WELL FUCKING WHEN???

WHEN???

WHAT CALENDAR ARE WE USING HERE???

THE PROPHECY KEEPS OPERATING ON THE MOST AGGRESSIVE "COMING SOON" SCREEN IN HUMAN HISTORY.

Five seasons.

TEN YEARS.

And Merlin is still hiding.

Still lying. Still terrified. Still unable to tell his best friend who he really is.

Think about how fucked that is.

The man destined to free magic users cannot even be trusted with the existence of ONE magic user.

His BEST FRIEND.

The guy who washes his socks. The guy who saves his life every Wednesday. The guy who literally drags destiny itself across the finish line by the throat.

Merlin knows Arthur so well that he can predict his moods from breathing patterns.

And he still thinks revealing his magic could get him executed.

WHAT DOES THAT TELL YOU?

Because it sure as shit doesn't tell me we're approaching a golden age.

Arthur gets way too much credit for being "better than Uther."

Because congratulations.

He's better than Uther.

Do you know how low that bar is?

Uther's moral compass was a fucking kitchen knife.

Being better than Uther isn't an achievement.

That's the minimum legal requirement for being considered a functioning human being.

If I said:

"This guy only commits HALF as many hate crimes as his father."

You wouldn't throw a parade.

You'd ask why he's still committing hate crimes.

Yet Arthur gets treated like a revolutionary because occasionally he hesitates before sentencing people.

My brother in Christ.

The laws are still there. The executions are still happening. The persecution is still happening. The fear is still happening. The suffering is still happening.

Institutional discrimination and state funded genocide is still operating at full fucking capacity.

Arthur feels bad about it sometimes.

Fantastic.

A gold star.

A sticker.

A juice box.

The magic users being burned alive are surely comforted by that.

Arthur's own story constantly sets up opportunities for change.

The show practically gift-wraps them.

Mordred.

The druids.

Freya.

Countless innocent magical people.

Repeated examples.

Repeated lessons.

Repeated proof.

And every time Arthur gets close to genuine growth, the writers panic and hit the emergency reset button.

Because if Arthur actually changed?

The show would have to evolve.

Merlin's secret would come out.

The relationship would deepen.

The conflict would become more interesting.

The narrative would move forward.

But apparently somebody in the writers' room was guarding the status quo like a rabid fucking bridge troll.

So instead Arthur spends five seasons running on a treadmill.

Lots of movement.

No actual progress.

Then the ending arrives.

And Arthur dies.

And I'm supposed to be satisfied?

Excuse me?

The man dies before accomplishing the single most important thing the prophecy promised.

Magic isn't legalized.

Magic users aren't free.

Merlin isn't accepted.

The golden age doesn't happen.

We're just told it'll happen later.

Eventually.

One day.

Trust us.

Source: dude just trust me.

And then Merlin spends the next fifteen hundred years wandering around looking like a Victorian ghost who lost a custody battle with happiness.

So after all the sacrifices.

After all the prophecies.

After all the deaths.

After all the suffering.

After all the waiting.

After all the "Arthur is destiny" speeches.

The grand payoff is basically:

"Well.

Maybe someday."

Maybe someday???

MAYBE SOMEDAY???

You cosmic fucking scam artists.

You narrative pickpockets.

You prophecy-selling charlatans.

You destiny-flavored fraud merchants.

You absolute council of enchanted dipshits.

You spent five seasons promising a golden age and delivered a delayed shipping notification.

Arthur was supposed to bring freedom.

You spent five seasons making me wait.

I wanted to SEE it.

I wanted Arthur making laws.

I wanted Arthur dismantling Uther's legacy.

I wanted Arthur publicly standing beside magic users.

I wanted Camelot changing.

I wanted proof.

Instead I got five seasons of "trust the process" followed by Arthur dying and Merlin wandering around for 1,500 years looking depressed.