#BBC Languages

[mornyavie]

By the way! BBC Merlin, in its ongoing quest to achieve ren faire levels of historical accuracy, used Actual Old English as the magic spell language. They got a professor to do a lot of the translations, though they didn't spend much effort on the pronunciation.

There are two ways that this is very funny if you watch the show while knowing OE. One is that usually when they do the "wave your hands to smash your enemies around" type spells they're literally saying very simple stuff like "jump back" and "fall." The other is that whenever they have a long incantation to read, they say vaguely related stuff for a sentence or so and then just transition into reciting Beowulf.

[akelafang]

Noble: When I'd heard that Prince Consort Merlin used to be a peasant I'll admit I had my concerns but he is quite the proper gentleman. He's polite, respectful, always uses the proper titles, he's- Arthur: Mad at me Noble: Excuse me, Sire? Arthur: He's mad at me. He only ever puts on this performance of being the perfect consort when he's mad at me, he knows it drives me crazy Merlin: Is there anything you need from me before I retire to my chambers Sire? Arthur: You can tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it and you can go back to insulting me

[pedrospascaled]

THE FALL S01E03 - Insolence & Wine

[jay-birds-fly]

A candid image of me cleverly tricking my unsuspecting friends into sharing an interest with me so I have someone to infodump to

[noodles-and-tea]

IM OBSESSED WITH YOUR JOHNLOCK!!! 🥹🥹🥹

THE GUYS!!!

[theroundbartable]

Merlin: There you are, thinking you can't get any lower-

Merlin: and suddenly you want to fuck a blond guy.

Arthur: what?

[gaiussleechtank]

Arthur’s love language is gift giving, always has been. He realises this when he returns to a modern Albion full of all these new terms and words and definitions. Back before he died, he didn’t have the time to properly make things for his loved ones as he was the King and he was incredibly serious about his duties.

Yet when he returns to a modern world, he finds himself crown-less and with a lot of spare time. Cue discovering YouTube and google, how-to-tutorials, craft books and step by step guides.

Back in Camelot, Merlin was a nightmare to get things for, nothing flashy or expensive or Arthur would have his ear nagged off about wasting money. But now? Paper and paint seem to be limitless to Arthur and he’s just learnt what origami is.

Merlin comes across him one morning to find the returned king fast asleep and surrounded by hundreds of painted paper dragons. It’s the best gift the immortal has ever received.

[asha-mage]

I really think fic under-utilizes the fact that Merlin has been around for the last millennia and a half of British history. Like sure you sometimes get a Shakespeare cameo or a Churchill reference, but their is so much British history and so much of it is Hot Nonsense that it could be a veritable gold mine of shenanigans.

Like Merlin has nothing to but time to kill as he waits for Arthur to return and a cast of some of history's biggest weirdos to bounce off to spend it with.

Forget the royals and the politicians (all of whom Merlin probably gave headaches) for a moment and just consider the artists. You're really telling me Merlin never went to any fancy parties and got hit on by Oscar Wilde? Never wrote any snarky fan mail to Jane Austen? Never got offered the chance to do coke with Lord Byron? Or hid in a bush to avoid having to talk to Voltaire?

I could go on for ages but come on, this boy is begging to be put into Situations, and British history is full of all kinds of wacky people you could shove him into a room with and watch the sparks fly.

[escespace]

Lancelot: So if you had to set a length for acceptable stupidity, what do you think it would be?

Arthur: *turns to look at Merlin* How tall are you?

[hopelessromantic5]

Merthur fluff for the soul

Thank you for reading.

Baby owls are a lot smaller than one would think.

When Arthur’s horse came upon a fallen fledgling in the forrest, he stopped and cradled it, checking for injuries. He found what seemed to be a broken wing but otherwise, nothing fatal.

Arthur knew exactly what he was going to do, the moment he set eyes on the creature.

As if reminding him, a very familiar voice called out from behind.

“Arthur, what is it?”

Without saying anything, Arthur rose and tucked the tiny creature further into his own wing, hidden from immediate sight.

He turned, and stalked up to his manservant who was still looking to him expectantly for an answer.

Arthur presented the owl to Merlin.

Whose entire aggravated persona fell away when his eyes cast upon it.

To Arthur, it was worth it all just for that. The absolutely besotted look on Merlin’s face as he cupped the bird into his hands without being told to.

Arthur tried to hide his smile, at that.

He pushed it down to a small smirk that just wouldn’t go away.

“It’s yours.” Arthur said, then immediately turned away, not seeing Merlin’s expression.

He was never one to face his emotions head on.

After he mounted his horse again, he heard Merlin say

“Thank you.” In the softest tone Arthur had ever heard.

The owlet’s wing was patched up when Arthur saw it next.

Sitting atop his manservant’s shoulder, watching the world around him, seemingly unbothered.

Arthur felt something like pride well in his chest. In his own eyes, the owl was a gift to Merlin. A companion.

And now everyone saw it.

Of course, they wouldn’t know, but Arthur would. And that’s all that matters.

“He doesn’t like when you stare at him.” Merlin said while stacking dirty plates to take to the kitchens.

“Even if I’m admiring the shine of his feathers, he still doesn’t like it?”

“He knows that’s not what you’re doing. He’s very clever.” Merlin’s smile broke through. “Don’t underestimate him or you might wake up with one less eye.” He shrugged and started towards to door.

“Is that a threat, little bird?” Arthur questioned to the bird that definitely couldn’t understand him. “That’s treason, you know.”

Just as they made it to the door, the bird let out an answering squawk to which Merlin threw his head back and laughed.

It was a beautiful sound that echoed through the silence of the camber once he’d gone.

The next day, it was raining.

Storming all hell was more like it. Lightning falling trees and wind going faster than any human could withstand.

Everyone living in the lower town were locked in their homes.

And the nobles were locked in the castle.

Arthur, of course, was locked in his cambers with Merlin…and the bird.

“Achilles.” Merlin corrected him as they stared out the window towards the pelting rain.

“Pardon?”

“His name. Achilles. A great warrior.” Merlin smiled to himself, like that it meant something to him.

Maybe it did, or maybe Arthur was just getting his hopes up.

At the mention of his name, the bird flew a few inches off Merlin’s shoulder before landing back down with a thump.

“Stop that. I told you, you shouldn’t be doing that yet. It’ll make it worse.” Merlin scorned the bird, and it seemed to pout in response.

Merlin came back with

“Yes. Well.”

Then he turned back to the rain.

As if they two had a conversation, and it was over now.

Arthur narrowed his eyes at the two.

[merlinmylove]

Do you think Merlin and Mordred speak druidic to each other just to annoy the knights who can’t understand them?

[lofan]

"Let me help." A hundred years or so from now, I believe, a famous novelist will write a classic using that theme. He'll recommend those three words even over "I love you." - James T. Kirk, The city on the edge of forever

[worthyprnce]

gwaine had many hidden talents.

we all know about his amazing skills with swordfighting. a skill he learnt from watching knights and squires play and fight, from picking up fights even being too young to do that and during his many years traveling alone. he had to know how to defend himself and, most importantly for him in the begging of his life, his mother and sister as well. but that's not all he knew.

growing up without his father to teach him the arts of sword fight, he learnt a lot from his mother and older sister instead. at seven he got tired of his clothes tearing up all the time, so he asked his mother to teach him how to sew. even after becoming a knight, gwaine took a few minutes to mend his own clothes whenever he could. he needed this time alone. at nine, his sister taught him about the language of flowers and how to dance. he did it for them. he used to steal flowers from luxurious gardens around to gift his mother and sister, and he always took them to dance, using any excuses to do it. he just loved it, and he loved to see them happy, not worrying about money or grieving for once.

at eleven he already knew how to steal food from the market without getting caught. and he was an excellent bargainer too. he was known by some as the child who stole valuable objects from distracted rich people and sold them at a lower price afterwords. robin hood style. it didn't take him too long to learn how to make his own dagger. courtesy of the local blacksmith who took pity on him and his family.

but most of his little secret talents he learned along his travels, wandering alone after leaving home at an early age. he learned to play the lute, to play cards, to steal by cheating playing cards, how to get easy money, how to impress a girl, how to impress a boy, how to whistle, to cook — although he was not actually good at it, just very practical. he knew french, a little latin, how to orient himself by the stars, how to bandage a wound by himself and what to do if it became infected, body anatomy (for medical and first aid reasons only. mostly), cut his own hair, trim his own beard, how to read maps, how to identify poisonous mushrooms, how to cut wood for fire, to swim, and many other little things.

but the hidden talent he was most proud of, was his drawing skills.

when he was around twenty, he once saw an elderly man struggling with a few home repairs he had, and decided to help him. as a return, the old man let him stay in his home for a few days. gwaine soon found out the man loved to draw. he had plenty of sketchbooks filled with many different portraits and landscapes, gwaine was in awe. seeing gwaine's genuine interest, the old man taught some basic and quick drawing principles, and gave gwaine a sketchbook and a pencil as a gift for all the help and company.

during his long years alone walking aimlessly around, gwaine used his sketches to immortalise every place he passed, every interesting person he met along the way, passions that made his heart beat differently, animals he helped save, taverns that served a good ale.

by the time he met merlin, his sketchbook pages were full of sketches of camelot, gaius' chambers, bottles of potions with funny names, little details inside the castle most people wouldn't even notice. but gwaine did.

he found himself making sketches of gwen with flowers in her hair, of arthur with the worst expression possible, of gaius with his usual worried face. but merlin was the main focus of his new drawings. every page had a sketch of merlin, doesn't matter how big or small.

and when gwaine was no longer in camelot, he realized his mind had never left merlin's room. he went back into drawing landscapes and taverns, but no other person were interesting enough. not when he once had merlin.

the pages of his sketchbook were getting boring and lifeless, not what they used to be before. but it seemed like they would come back to life whenever gwaine and merlin were together again. he had many sketches of merlin with white lillies around him, merlin's eyes shining as bright as they did the night gwaine confessed he was doing it all for him, wyverns, an old and dirty trident he had no idea what it actually was for but he liked the shape of it. even arthur made a comeback to his sketchbook.

when he was made prisoner by jarl, he lost all of his sketchbooks. everything inside his bag was stolen and discarded, and since gwaine's escape was rushed, he had no opportunity to try and find it. he lost it all, all the memories of his travels, the beautiful places he saw, the people he met, his early adventures with merlin. all lost. he had only his memory now.

after he became a knight he was reluctant to go back to his old hobby. still bitter about losing it all suddenly. but after getting to know his new friends better, and after he started to see merlin everyday, he couldn't resist.

he used every moment he had alone to draw. he loved drawing lancelot's hair. he had his fun giving leon extra curls. elyan, percival, and even lesser known knights and guards owned gwaine's sketchbook pages.

but his muse was always merlin. drawing merlin was like muscle memory for him. he would be lying if he said he never lost himself in his own thoughts while admiring merlin's features and carving them into his memory so he could draw him later.

his drawings were directly affected by his mood, so it was easy to know when he was angry or upset. but there was only one emotion showing whenever he drew merlin, and it was love. pure, powerful and unconditional love. sometimes a brokenhearted love. sometimes a melancholic love. and there were even the times he felt a certain kind of guilty love, a mixture of insecurity and uncertainty. but it was always love. and it was always merlin.

the first sketch he made after getting back to draw was a memory very dear to him of the first day he met merlin. he was smiling, looking at gwaine with hopes he would stay, begging him with his eyes and words for gwaine to stay in camelot with him. for him. whatever his reason was, he wanted gwaine close, and gwaine remembered those eyes and words very clearly.

his last sketch was also one he made of merlin. he was smiling as he held gwaine's hand. just before he was the one leaving gwaine this time. and even though gwaine had his eyes blurred by tears, he made his best to register merlin in his pages one more time, one last time, forever.

[aerodynamicentity]

I will not sit here while people write Merthur as a soft, affectionate couple!

This is them

[wishchip106]

“There are thousands of men on those ships. Good, honest, innocent men! They’re just following orders.”

imagine the betrayal Erik must’ve felt hearing those words come out of Charles’ mouth

coming to the conclusion that maybe Charles doesn’t understand him, maybe he is really just like the people who turn a blind eye to those who are suffering

that probably gave him the push to send those missiles out towards the ships. no more men following orders to ruin the world

and maybe that’s why Erik so desperately tried to convince Charles to join him. Maybe there’s a chance that Charles will understand and will rightfully join him by his side

but he doesn’t. Charles doesn’t love him. So Erik leaves

[theroundbartable]

Modern day, resurrected Arthur has not only to learn modern English, he also has to learn meme language and slang.

When Arthur introduces himself to Merlin's friends, he's like: I'm his roommate.

Merlin: you're not my roommate. We don't live in the same room, we live in the same flat. You have your own room, so we're flatmates.

Arthur: but all the rooms are your rooms... So, we're roommates.

Merlin's friend: and they were roommates *grins*

...

Merlin's friend: say Arthur, are you a top or a bottom?

Arthur: *who's only learned the terms top and bottom in relation to clothes* eh... Well, I like to run around shirtless I guess? So... I'm a bottom?

Friend: omg. Does that mean Merlin's a top?

Arthur: eh.... No. Merlin is... Both I think? (He never takes off his clothes, so I dunno what he prefers to wear)

Merlin: omg, Arthur, please shut up.

Arthur: aren't all men bottoms? (And since women wear dresses in his world, they are all tops lmao)

Merlin: dear god!!!!

......

Friend: he's my little meow meow

Arthur: what? Why are you making Cat noises?

Friend: he's my meow meow

Arthur: i don't understand what you're saying. Do you have a cat?

Friend: he's to me what Merlin is to you

Arthur: oooooooh

Merlin: don't teach him this nonsense, i'm begging you

Arthur: Hey Merlin, you're my little meow meow

...

Feel free to continue