Hello! I haven't posted on this website in a VERY long time. I have noticed in a major way that I tend to lack the inspiration to continue a story and have always been able to begin a story idea and make something up that I haven't seen a lot of or come up with ideas whilst I read another's work on here. I can branch off of one action in a scene and make three alternative new ideas that could change the story completely. I've never been great at accumulating enough lore and plot into my stories, but I am always able to write an introduction that can inspire others to write their idea of it. I love reading other people's stories, and I thought that if I can't write a completed story I could just share my ideas and leave it up to you guys! Anything that sparks inspiration from these prompts, I would love to read! I love seeing an author through their writing and connecting with the fictional characters through other's eyes.

And my new inspiration has become Merlin!

So if anyone is a massive fan of writing, PLEASE tell me if anything I write here inspires you to try something out! I would love to see your ideas and see the multitude of ideas you can make from it! That means that ANY of these stories can be used, as long as you PLEASE allow me to join your creative journey with it :) I would really love to see your amazing imaginations :D

Sorry for the long explanation; I hope you enjoy these little ideas and find something in them for yourself to be inspired by if you are a major writer! Tell me what you think! This shall be updated randomly, whenever I feel a story beginning, thank you! 3

Prompt: Someone who has watched the Merlin tv show suddenly ends up apart of the real lives of our favourite characters.

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin

I stood over the cliff, the wind sweeping my hair up and behind me as I smiled wistfully at the scene in front. The castle was magnificent, with light-coloured stone, smooth and winking up at me from my position. It's just like in the film, but this one I knew was the real deal. I was seeing it used for its original purpose. There was a real kingdom built here, it wasn't overrun by excited fans and tourists but real peasants and knights. Servants. A king.

They were here. It had taken me an agonisingly slow number of hours full of grief and pain to realise where I was and where I had landed myself in. At first, I was too upset by my recent death, in a world where my family were, living without me and having to bury me so young. The worst thing to happen to a parent was to have to bury your own children, not see them flourish, fulfil life and build their very own family. I was too distraught to listen to the faint whisper in the back of my head telling me that there was something vaguely nostalgic about where I was. My clothes from the accident were still on and I tried my best to ignore the dried blood where my fatal wounds once were. They are gone now.

It was a weird and horrible thought, knowing that your family was grieving at the same time as you, suffering your absence while you knew you were technically alive and can't do anything about helping them, reassuring them. That's when you remember that you're alive when you shouldn't be and can hear the faint sound of life, carriages, horses and a chorus of different materials made of metal and wood.

Looking over the hill now, I feel like laughing but am too worried I might end up crying afterwards and not being able to stop. This situation should be impossible, yet it's also extremely funny and exciting. What makes my uncertainty more resolved is seeing familiar french extras who played the roles of knights. And then I see one face that makes me both overwhelmed with fear and happiness.

Gwaine stuttered around the streets inside of the castle, near the gates to Camelot, smiling drunkenly. I can almost hear his accent from here. It had been so long since I had seen the show, but it was still clear as rain in my memories. This was really happening. The actors, their fictional characters, wearing their faces and living a real life in Camelot, where the legend of Arthur and Merlin wasn't just bedtime stories or myths and tales that were still told now in the 21st century.

But I wasn't in the 21st century anymore, was I?

I wiped the dried tear stains away and let a little chuckle escape my lips, "This is insane." I dragged my hands over my face exasperatedly. My pack from my trip from my past life, which is a bizarre thought, was still strapped to my back.

The memory came back to me of Merlin creating a unicorn out of smoke here and realised that's why it was so familiar. How I had remembered that from so long ago just reminded me how amazing the relationships in the show were that it made me remember such a short scene. I inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. I looked at my bloody mess of a shirt, my dirtied jeans and slightly shredded boots and shrugged.

'Maybe this was a perfect and convenient excuse for me to go see the Court Physician.' I smiled and stuttered in my slow tread down the hill, 'This is insane. I can't be dreaming.' My conscience replied sarcastically, 'Well, duh, you're not.' I attached my bag to my stomach and undid the buckle, releasing a compressed brown poncho from inside to use to not alarm the guards in the front.

I anxiously strode passed them, forgetting to breathe when they looked at me before looking back ahead. Children ran past, playing and squealing, peasants and knights and guards off duty talked to another in clusters, walking away from me. The different social classes showed in their clothes and postures and I tried not to overthink my own stature. Gwaine was gone by the time I was in the lower town. I followed the beautiful pendragon flags at the centre of Camelot and continued my mission to a certain, awe-inspiring warlock.

Tell me what you think and let me know if you have any inspiration for it. I would love to see what you come up with!