Crankgameplays Imagines

Peter Pan?

~ Your POV ~

Tugging on your hair, you release an impatient sigh and close your eyes, unable to bear looking at your only-half-completed project, which is due in tomorrow. The project is just a simple piece of creative writing, but for some reason you're stumped halfway through it. It's your own fault, really, you did decide to go for a rather childish theme of some mythical land, when the project specifically asks for something mature and sophisticated. Your writing is mature and sophisticated, but you're really struggling to find a way of transforming the theme to also be so. Taking a deep breath, you open your eyes, slowly take your fists out of your hair, and place your laptop on your bed beside you. Then, you kick your legs off your bed, and turn your head to look out of the window. From there, you stand up, and with your eyes still fixed on the window, you approach it and gently push the glass open. Technically, it's a door that leads to a dramatically small excuse for a balcony, but you class it as a window, and this one feature of the whole place was the one thing that sold you on the whole apartment when you bought it. You smile as the cool night air caresses your skin, and brushes your hair out of your face. This apartment is pretty high up, far above most of the city noise below, but the lights of the buildings below are the closest things you've seen that resemble stars in so long, given that their own bright lights and the clouds above make it near impossible for you to see actual stars. You havent seen stars since you were back home, when you'd write stories day and night with the stairs watching over you, and only your history teacher ever read them, because he was the only person you ever really trusted to read them. He passed them onto your English teacher, and from there, the school gave you the recognition you "deserved". That recognition led to school awards, which eventually led to a spot in the newspaper, and then a column in a magazine, then a blog, which then became so popular you were given a scholarship to an online creative writing school. They provided you with the money necessary to get your own apartment, because your parents would never support the career path you'd chosen. You feel tears prick your eyes as you turn away from the balcony, your parents disowned you when you moved out, so here you are, living in your own apartment at 18, no friends, and no parents. You wipe your eyes and shake your head, strolling back over to your laptop and picking it up. Scanning the screen, you begin to read your story out loud to yourself as you walk around your bedroom, a therapeutic technique you've practised when encountering writers block. Sure, a friendless and parentless life can be lonely, but you have universes filled with people inside your head, and even the villains are kinder to you than the people you've known in the real world. After reading your writing out loud, you sigh and collapse on your bed, wiping your face stressfully.
"God, what I'd give to have the freedom I did as a kid." You think out loud to yourself.
Sitting up briefly, you check the time, and decide to admit defeat for the night. Maybe your dream will inspire you and you can finish the story off tomorrow morning, mere hours before it's due, who knows? You scoff at your own inner sarcasm, and shut down your laptop, placing it underneath your bed before curling up under the covers and turning off your lamp. Tomorrow is a new day, you tell yourself as your eyes flutter closed, things will be better when you wake up.

A small thud wakes you from your slumber, and you groan into your pillow.
"No offence Gandalf, but can you shut the fuck up?" You say into your pillow, addressing your dog, Gandalf, who probably tripped over something in your room.
"Who's Gandalf?" A voice asks you from within your bedroom.
Immediately, you sit bolt upright to face the stranger "How do you NOT know who Gandalf is?" You shake your head and rub your eyes "Also, who are you, and what are you doing in my room?"
Suddenly, the pitter patter of paws comes hurtling towards your bedroom door, and in runs your shaggy grey dog, who instantly starts barking at the man stood at your window.
You sigh "Yeah, bit late Gandalf, I could've been murdered by now, but thanks for showing up. Better late than never I guess."
The stranger laughs "Im not going to murder you!"
You fall back into bed "Honestly, it would been a relief if you could do that, because I've got a project due in tomorrow and if I dont get it handed in on time, Im going to cover my entire body in peanut butter and let Gandalf eat my corpse."
The stranger laughs harder "How are you so calm about having a stranger in your apartment?"
You shrug "Because this is just a dream, and the sooner dream-me falls back to 'sleep', the sooner I can fall into another dream that might actually give me some inspiration for the story I need to complete by tomorrow."
The stranger is quiet for a moment, before he speaks up again "The story you're writing, is that the one about Everland?"
You nod "Yup, couldnt use Neverland, that Peter Pan fucker already stole that one, and in essence I suppose they're similar, but at the same time totally different." You sit up again "I know that you're a figment of my imagination and all, so is there any way you could help me with the story?"
The man chuckles "Im not a figment of your imagination!"
You raise an eyebrow "So you somehow magically appeared in my apartment, which is impossible to reach through that window, and has every other possible entrance locked, with burglar alarms? Right."
The stranger nods "I flew in through the window."
You snort "In-tru-der window!"
He sighs and shakes his head "That was actually terrible."
You clear your throat "Sorry. Anyway, you expect me to believe you can fly?"
Instead of answering you, the man simply smiles at you, and then he slowly lifts himself off the ground. You frown at him and reach over to turn on your lamp, only to discover that your eyes are not decieving you. This cunt can really fly!?!
You blink rapidly "Ok, so, let's say for the sake of the argument that you ARE real, what are you doing here?" You look over at Gandalf briefly to see that he's given up barking and curled up in a ball to sleep on the floor. Good boy.
The man lowers himself back down to the ground "I've heard you reading out your stories to yourself for years now, I try to remember as much as I can of each one and then take them back to the boys. I come back almost every night to hear how the stories continue, to keep the boys updated."
You raise an eyebrow "The boys?"
The stranger corrects himself "The lost boys."
You roll your eyes "You're not telling me you're Peter Pan?"
He laughs "No! I knew him, though, he was one of my best friends. I was just a lost boy originally, but I was older than the others, because Peter found me at a later time in my life, said he needed someone more mature to be in charge of Neverland, since Peter planned to return to England with Wendy and live out a life with her. Im Ethan, and I guess you could say Im Peter Pan's successor, or something."
You nod slowly, not liking how much sense his story is making, especially considering you can see that his outfit is made entirely of leaves and vines, now that your lamp is on.
"I noticed you were having a bit of trouble with this one, so I decided to see if there was any way I could help!" Ethan continues, grinning at you cheesily, and you cant help but notice how attractive he is.
You shrug "I mean, unless you can think of something, we're screwed, 'cause I've got nothing."
Ethan chuckles "Dont worry, I have an idea."
You stare up at him expectantly "Im all ears?"
He smiles "Come with me to Neverland."
You sigh and rub your eyes "Dude, c'mon, the sun isnt even up yet, and you're asking me to go through the whole ordeal of learning how to fly, getting over my fear of heights, flying to Neverland, then inevitably getting kidnapped and having a near-death experience with not only the lost boys but also pirates?"
Ethan frowns in confusion "Where'd you get all that from?"
You shrug "Peter's a bit of a legend, I know how the story of poor old Wendy Darling."
Ethan is thoughtful for a moment "Well, my full name is Ethan Nestor Darling, so if we're going by tradition, it'll be me who goes through all of that, not you."
You raise an eyebrow "If your last name has Darling in it, wouldnt it have been a more believable storyline to have you be Wendy and Peter's son?"
Ethan rolls his eyes "C'mon (Y/N), you of all people can recognise a predictable plot when you see one! Do you wanna come to Neverland or not?"
You sigh "Im still convinced this is a dream, and the closed I get to death, the more likely I am to wake up, so sure, why the fuck not? Teach me how to fly!"
Ethan laughs and shakes his head at you, then holds his hand out to you. Reluctantly, you take hold of his hand, and he pulls you out of bed into a standing position. For once, you're glad you fell asleep in your clothes like a fucking kid. With his free hand, he opens a small pouch on his belt, and takes out some golden powder, then throws it over you, causing you to sneeze.
"Jeez, dude, you've gotta give a girl a warning!" You tell him as you swat the particles away from your face.
Ethan chuckles "Now, just think happy thoughts."
You open your eyes to give him a scowl "Happy thoughts at this time of night? You best be joking."
An idea pops into Ethan's head "Tell me about Gandalf!"
You grin immediately "Gandalf is a wizard from one of my all time favourite fictional franchises: Lord Of The Rings, and The Hobbit. He's a really tall old man with long hair and a lengthy beard, and I thought it'd be ironic to name my small dog who looks like an old man after him!"
Ethan smirks at you, his eyes flickering between his feet and your eyes, and you raise an eyebrow as you follow his gaze, only to realise to your astonishment that you're flying.
"HOLY FUCK!" You shout, waking up Gandalf, who starts barking up at you the moment he sees you, and you stare down at him with a look of pure guilt, the poor boy must be so confused!
Upon seeing your heartbroken expression, Ethan gets more golden dust from his pocket, and sprinkles it over your dog. As soon as Gandalf can levitate, he zooms over to you and crashes into your chest at full force, causing you and Peter to laugh.
"Do you wanna pack a bag of your things to bring with you?" Ethan enquires.
You shake your head "Oh GOD no, we'd end up having to take every item of furniture in this room because I cant part with anything!"
Ethan laughs "That wont be a problem!" He chimes, before flying away from you and out of the window, to whistle very loudly, causing Gandalf to bark at him.
Suddenly, countless golden balls of light fly through your window, and collect themselves around every piece of furniture in your bedroom.
"Take all of that to Neverland, and make sure to keep it away from the lost boys!" Ethan tells the balls of light, and then it clicks inside your head: they're fairies!
You blink rapidly, staring at Ethan with wide eyes "Wh-Wha?"
He smiles at you "Finally believe that this isnt a dream yet?"
You shake your head "No, this is definitely something my mind would come up with."
Ethan laughs, before stopping himself to think about something, and then he smirks at you "I know how I can convince you."
You raise an eyebrow at him "How?"
Ethan takes hold of your hand and flies you over to the window, then winks at you as the two of you drift out into open air, with Gandalf already sleeping soundly with one of your arms wrapped around him.
"What're you doing? Where are we going?" You ask, the curiosity eating you alive.
Ethan beams at you, and suddenly shoots upwards, pulling you and Gandalf with him. The feeling of flying through clouds is not something you could ever imagine, or even begin to describe, but when you break through the layer of clouds, all thoughts of them disappear completely. The world around you is silent as you stare at the sky above, tears filling your eyes as you grip Ethan's hand. There's no way you could have ever dreamed something as beautiful as this. The tears roll down your cheeks as you realise just how well Ethan must know you, to have known this would be the one thing to convince you. When you think about it, it was actually a very simple thing, that meant more than you could ever put into words.

All he had to do was show you the stars.