Enoch has a sweet spot for the reader’s little sister. When reader has to go out of town, Enoch steps up to watch and comfort Claire.
Several of Miss Peregrine’s wards played outside enjoying the last moments of sunshine. A few of the children kicked a ball around while the smaller children played on the seesaw. The sun was setting, but otherwise the sky was clear. The large clock tower in the small town began to chime.
The first chime echoed throughout the loop. By the third chime clouds began to form in the sky. The fifth chime signaled the sun’s final descent. By the seventh, and final, chime, the sky was dark.
Suddenly the wind began to howl as clouds moved through the sky. Mist drifted up the path from the sea to the children’s home. The children that were playing in the yard all rushed back inside the house, yet none of them seemed worried about the storm.
One of the children, a teenager named Enoch, watched the storm clouds from the kitchen window. He leaned against the counter and furrowed his brows slightly as he took in the sight outside. His eyes quickly flickered to the clock and saw it read two minutes past seven. The corner of his mouth pulled into a slight smirk as he began to count to ten. Once he reached ten, lightning flashed outside and rain began to fall.
Enoch turned away from the window and saw the youngest child, a six year old named Claire, was sitting in the bay window. Her lips were in a pout as she watched the rain. Enoch shook his head and chuckled to himself and went to sit by the young girl.
Little Claire Densmore looked up at the storm that was brewing in her loop. She clutched her soft teddy bear Enoch had given her closer to her chest. She did not like the storms that visited every night. They were loud and unpleasant. Even though they were predictable and she knew to be inside the house exactly ten seconds after 7:02 PM to avoid the rain, she still hated them.
The way the raindrops would fall down the windows of the house and prevent her from playing outside bothered her. She loved the outdoors. But even more so, the falling rain signified the arrival of the bomber planes.
Now these planes scared Claire, for they were unpredictable. One little thing could be different and it could yield a completely different result. She hated the uncertainty around whether something they did could alter the course of the planes. And if the plane dropped a bomb a little earlier the bird might not catch it. The thought always terrified her. It scared her so much that the very thought of it caused her backmouth to anxiously grind its teeth. She felt one of her bright blonde curls get caught on one of the sharp teeth in her backmouth.
Enoch noticed movement from the back of Claire’s head and pulled away her hair. He saw her backmouth anxiously chewing on some of the curls. He frowned a little and took one of her ribbons and began to plait her hair.
Claire seemed to relax as she felt the boy’s fingers in her hair. His touch was gentle as he worked her curls into a messy braid. He fished in his pocket and after a moment took out some pins so he could pin the braid into a bun. Once the hair was out of the way, her backmouth stopped gnawing on it.
Enoch chuckled, “Are you scared, little one?”
Claire turned her attention back to Enoch and nodded her head. Her eyes were wide, and she looked sheepish, almost embarrassed to admit it. “I don’t like that Y/N had to visit another loop. I miss her.”
Enoch just smiled softly and ruffled her hair. “No need to worry, you’re sister will be back tomorrow. And in the meantime, the rain’s outside and you’re inside, all warm and safe.”
Claire pouted and climbed onto Enoch’s lap, still holding her teddy bear. Enoch only chuckled at the gesture and began to rub the back of the small child. She relaxed a little as she felt Enoch’s warm hand running up and down her back. Enoch’s gaze fell back to the world outside, and he watched as the gardens flooded with rainwater.
Claire trembled slightly in Enoch’s lap, clearly terrified of the lightning and thunder. Enoch rubbed her back reassuringly. He whispered to her, “Do you want me to do the back tracing game?”
Claire nodded her head eagerly and Enoch chuckled. He placed her down on the floor and sat right behind her. His fingers lightly grazed her spine. He began to hum softly.
“Around the world in eighty days,” his voice was soft as he traced a circle on her back.
He began to draw a large x on her back as he whispered, “X marks the spot, four big boulders and one tiny rock.”
Claire giggled as he poked the center of her back lightly. She began to mumble the words to the rhyme as well. In unison they both whispered, “Spiders crawling up your back. Snakes slithering down. Spiders crawling up your back. Snakes slithering down.”
Claire’s tension left her body as Enoch shook her slightly. He just chuckled, “A shake and a squeeze and a nice cool breeze. Now you have the shiveries.”
She giggled at the feeling. Goosebumps covered her skin and she shivered. Claire turned back towards Enoch and climbed back into his lap. Even though it was still raining outside, the tension seemed to have left her body. She snuggled into him as she held her teddy bear. Enoch just sat there and continued to rub her back as they listened to the rain together.
Later that night, after all the peculiar children ate dinner, they rushed to the window to observe Miss Peregrine. She walked out in the rain with a sleek umbrella. Her face was mostly hidden by the material, but she seemed to be counting. Slowly, she watched as the seconds ticked by on her pocket watch.
Enoch looked up at the sky and saw the planes from the night before flying overhead. The plane swooped low in the sky and opened its hatch. A large bomb fell out from the bottom and started to fall towards the house. Claire anxiously held Enoch’s hand, even though she knew they would be okay.
Miss Peregrine waited, watching as the bomb got closer and closer to the house. Right when her pocket watch hit thirteen minutes past nine, she wound it back. The bomb ascended back into the sky and into the plane. The plane flew backwards and out of sight.
Claire relaxed as she saw the plane disappear. Soon the rain was being pulled up from the ground and shooting back into the sky. Even though she hated the bomber planes, Claire loved watching the loop’s reset.
She stood on her tiptoes as she watched the rain rise further into the sky and the clouds move around. Miss Peregrine continued to wind her pocket watch resulting in the sun rising once again to reveal a sunny day.
As she kept winding her watch, the sun made its way back over the horizon. The sun set again plunging the island into darkness once more. The reset was complete and now the loop was ready to repeat its twenty four hour increment.
Claire tugged on Enoch’s hand making him look down at her. Her eyes were droopy and she yawned. Enoch shook his head playfully and scooped her up in his arms. She relaxed in his arms and rested her head on his shoulder. She slowly drifted off to sleep as he carried her up the stairs.
Enoch carefully walked up the stairs to Claire’s room. He gently pushed open the door to her bedroom and laid her down on the bed. She curled up on the soft mattress and hugged her teddy bear closer to her. Enoch took her comforter and placed it over her small frame. Claire dosed peacefully as she was engulfed in the warmth from the blanket.
Enoch slowly closed the door behind him and went back down the stairs. He bumped into Emma on the way down. Emma was a pretty girl about the same age as Enoch. Her hair was a pale blonde that complimented her pale skin. Emma gave Enoch a knowing look.
He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “What?”
She chuckled as she looked at the boy. “You are such an interesting case O’Connor. Snippy with others and yet you are a big softie with Claire.”
Enoch rolls his eyes. “And what’s wrong with being sweet to Claire?”
“Nothing,” Emma smiles. “Just be glad Y/N didn’t see it, otherwise she might be all over you. She’s so protective of her little sister, I bet she’d love you.”
Enoch’s ears heat up at the mention of your name. He turns his head to the side and smiles softly.
His face slowly heats up with a soft blush. “I think I’d be okay with that.”
summary: when you're forced into a time loop after losing your parents, you struggle to come to terms with your new reality.
warning/s: mentions of death, blood and injury.
author's note: hello! it’s been so long since i’ve posted anything, but that’s mainly because i haven’t had the motivation to write, despite having a million wips lol. I started this one a year ago when I was rereading and rewatching the miss peregrine series, but never got around to completing it. Idk what spurt of motivation i had this past week, but i finally completed it lol, so enjoy!
just some things to note - it’s a mix of the book and film because i stupidly watched and read both at the same time so mixed the lore up. Apologies! also Y/H/T = your home town. That’s all :)
It all happened so fast, I couldn't even react. One minute I was walking with my parents down some grubby alley in the middle of Cairnholm late into the evening, and the next we were wrestled into by what seemed like some invisible force.
Thrown back, my back hit the wall and I crumpled to the ground in seconds. Whatever had attacked had left me with spinning vision and a concussion, no doubt. But what concerned me the most was the view ahead – my parents.
I struggled to call for my mum, who was unsconscious on the ground, deep crimson blood pouring from her head. It took a moment to register what I was seeing, to accept the reality that she'd died so suddenly. I couldn't even acknowledge it because a wet, breathless snarling noise caught my attention.
The blurriness struggled to subside as I blinked, following the noise to my father, who was flat on the ground, also having been ploughed into by some invisible force. He was trying to sit up and a soft groan escaped my lips as I attempted to call his name. Our eyes met for a moment, confusion exchanged in a single glance, and then he was shoved back into the ground, head smashing against the concrete in a bloody mess.
The scream ripped from my throat before I could stop it. It didn't make sense – what the hell had happened? What was doing this? Nobody was here!
Tears burned my eyes as I struggled to stand, confused and hot and hurt all at once. The snarling grew louder, approaching me and making my heart race in my chest because I felt like there was a threat, but I couldn't be sure what. A strong scent – like a landfill rotting in the sun all day – accompanied the noise, and I almost passed out from it.
Suddenly, an arrow shot through the air, whizzing before me. I followed it to the left, watching the most disgusting creature – was it a creature? It certainly wasn't human – hit the wall and sink to the ground, defeated. I blinked, certain this was a nightmare. Had it just been invisible?
Three tongues hung out of its mouth, between rows of sharp teeth. It was a monstrous corpse, coated in blood – my parents' blood.
This couldn't be real.
I looked back to my parents hoping they'd be up and alive and proving that I'd imagined the whole thing. But they were still there, dead in seconds. We'd just been talking about wrapping up this insane holiday to Cairnholm after a drink at the pub, and now they were gone.
"That was a close one," a voice spoke, and I turned to see the owner of the arrow. A strange woman dressed in black and holding a crossbow. "We need to go. Where there's one, there's more."
At the mention of more of these strange creatures, I felt myself panicking. My gaze returned to it and I could have thrown up there and then, but the strange woman grabbed my hand and began dragging me away. Away from the monster and away from my parents. I was too dumbstruck to stop her.
My mind was working on overdrive, thoughts of everything that had happened replaying. How quickly it happened. My mother's dead body. My father's confused look. His head getting smashed into the ground. The monster – whatever it was – ready to kill me next, if not for my saviour.
The woman took me through the small village on the island, everything fading into a blur as I remained paralysed with shock. Only when she let go of my hand did the horrors catch up with me. I was too distracted by my situation to notice our change in scenery.
"How are you?" the lady asked, and I suddenly stepped back when she watched me with concern, as if she knew me.
"What was that?" I asked demandingly, heart racing too quickly for me to keep up with. "What just did that? My– my parents– are they–?" I couldn't even say it, trembling with each word.
The lady frowned ashamedly. "I'm so sorry, Miss Y/L/N. I was too late."
Nothing made sense, not even the fact that she somehow knew my name, but the sincerity in her expression made me believe her. Which meant it was true. They were gone.
"No... no, they can't be," I muttered, shaking my head. "They can't be dead. They–"
"I'm glad I got to you in time, but–"
"No!" I shouted, eyes blurring with tears. Sinking to the grass, I shook my head. "They can't be gone. It wasn't real. It couldn't have been."
How? How could it be true? We'd just gone for a drink and some dinner! We were stretching our legs! How could they be gone?!
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I glared into the grass, heart crumbling in my chest. It didn't make sense.
"What was that?" I asked, glancing up at the strange lady.
She sighed regretfully. "That was a hollowgast, also known as a hollow. It's a wretched creature, once a peculiar."
"A what?" my voice squeaked, because this woman sounded insane and it couldn't make sense that this fictional nightmare of a creature had just killed my parents.
"It's a lot to hear," she admitted, "but peculiars are those with special powers and traits. Hollows feed off them and anything that gets in their way, with hopes of returning to their form as a peculiar. This particular one was after you, it seems. Unfortunately, your parents were in the way."
Jaw clenched, I stood up and scowled at her as she explained this utter nonsense. "And who the hell are you?"
She pursed her lips, as if not pleased with my reaction. "I'm Alma Peregrine, Miss Peregrine to the peculiars I care for."
I could have laughed because of how clinically insane she sounded. Hollows? Peculiars? Powers? What the hell was she talking about?
"That's stupid!" I exclaimed. "All of it, stupid!"
"It's a lot, but stupid isn't the word," she corrected gently.
I scoffed. "Of course it is! You're telling me that some imaginary monster killed my parents to get to me? And that I'm supposedly some sort of peculiar? What the fuck?!"
She winced slightly at my outburst. "I can prove it, Miss Y/L/N."
I frowned. "I don't care. Fuck, I don't give one. I have to go back. To my parents."
"You mustn't," she said carefully. "It's not safe. Where there's one hollow, there's more. They have your scent now."
"How is it any safer here?!" I snapped incredulously. My parents were murdered in plain sight and she was feeding me fairytales?
Calmly, she tilted her head. "Can't you see it?"
I swallowed hard, finally taking a second to look around and acknowledge where I was stood. Whereas we were once in a grey, dark Cairnholm, now we were in a lovely field under stunning pink watercolour strokes in the sky from the sun set. Everything felt different, wrong.
"Where is this? Where are we?" I asked uneasily.
"You're safe here," she assured me. "You're in a time loop. As an ymbryne, it's my responsibility to create a safe place for my peculiars. A place where hollows can't reach them. This is it. 1940s Cairnholm, Wales." No doubt in response to my horrified expression, she added, "It's protected."
"It's nonsense!"
"It's not," she said quickly, guiltily, before mumbling to herself, "It's my fault, I should've made myself known sooner."
I blinked, shaking my head. This had to be a dream. A long-winded, insane dream.
"I'm going to turn into a bird now and you must follow me," she advised.
A million responses were on the tip of my tongue, but I didn't get chance to speak because she did just that, proving me wrong in an instant. I jumped back with a yelp, hand on my heart, but it was beating ever so quickly and I was forgetting how to breathe and then everything went black.
—
Muttering and hushed whispers is what made me stir, my mind still playing catch up as I opened my eyes. Blinking, I didn't recognise my surroundings – a bedroom that definitely wasn't mine – nor the children wearing outdated clothes huddled by the door that ran out as soon as I glanced their way. I blinked again, certain I'd seen bees buzzing after them.
"How are you feeling?"
I jumped at the voice, eyes falling to Miss Pergerine who was sat by a desk to my left. And then I remembered what had led me to where I was.
"You're... you're human?" I asked weakly, sitting upright.
She nodded, though frowned apologetically. "I didn't mean to frighten you. After everything that's happened, I should have used my brain a little."
I pressed my lips together, eyes flickering over her figure. She'd transformed into a bird. An actual bird. Like magic. If she truly was this ymbryne she'd told me about, that meant peculiars were real. And hollows. Which meant...
"My parents are really gone," I realised, breath catching in my throat.
Her voice was gentle as she spoke, "I'm so very sorry, Y/N."
I looked down to my trembling hands, unsure what to do or say. They were dead. It was all real, not some horrid nightmare.
"So much has happened in such a short amount of time and I can imagine how overwhelmed you must be," she said sympathetically, but I wasn't really listening. "I brought you to our home for peculiar children. The other peculiars live here also and, well, you're welcome to stay here where it's safe. You shouldn't go back to your time, not where hollows still roam..."
I tuned her out, heart aching in my chest. Mentions of peculiar children and hollows and time loops didn't matter... not when my parents were dead.
Shortly after, Miss Peregrine said something about giving me some space and then left the room. I was too distraught – and oddly exhausted – to do anything but fall back asleep. I thought I'd struggle, what with being in an odd place, surrounded by strangers and without my parents, but I fell asleep easily enough.
It was a clear night outside the window as I drifted in and out of slumber. At one point, I laid there, eyes staring aimlessly out the window, watching the stars twinkle. My thoughts were stuck in a cycle, showing scenes of my parents, the monster that killed them. Their bloody heads, the confusion and terror in my father's eyes. The fear in my own as I realised I was next, if not for Miss Peregrine saving my life. If what she said was true, that this thing – this hollow – was trying to get to me, then that meant my parents had died because of me. It was my fault.
It was my fault.
My suffocating thoughts were interrupted by a strong knock on the door. I didn't move from the bed, hoping whoever it was would leave me to rot in my bubble. Then a soft voice came from the other side.
"Are you up yet?"
I stayed quiet, ignoring the voice with hopes they'd leave. I didn't care for anyone who lived here, nor this loop. I just wanted to go home, to be with my parents.
"Please, you must eat," the girl spoke again, pleading.
My stomach had been rumbling all evening – it had to have been midnight now – but I couldn't get up. I didn't want to. I didn't want to do anything ever again.
"I'm coming in," the girl finally decided, followed by a creak of the door opening.
I didn't bother turning around to greet her, but I could hear the sound of a tray settling on the bedside table behind me. The smell of something tasty wafted my way instantly, only making my stomach rumble even more, but I ignored it. Then, a pause. Whoever she was, her presence was felt.
"Y/N," she spoke tenderly.
Did everybody just know who I was now? Was privacy not a thing here?
"What?" I mumbled, voice hoarse.
A quiet sigh, and then, "You must eat. You must be starving. Miss Peregrine made vegetable soup for dinner. It'll be easy enough to eat. Filling, too."
It was stupid, all of it. Who cared? Who cared about eating or soup or any of it?
The girl relented. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to call. I'm only next door. My name is Emma Bloom."
I didn't tear my gaze from the window, not until I heard this Emma Bloom's footsteps retreating. Glancing at the door as she left, I caught a glimpse of her pastel dress and blonde hair. My plan was to return to a state of self-pity and disassociation, but the smell of the aforementioned soup caught my attention again, the flavours making my stomach grumble once more.
After devouring it in minutes, I laid back down and drifted off to sleep with the intention of staying like that forever. Maybe if I kept my eyes closed long enough, I'd wake up and this would all be a nightmare.
—
When I woke next, it was still dark out.
I pushed myself up and stretched, head hurting a little from forcing myself to sleep. Now, I was wide awake and as homesick as ever. The room I was in could have been comforting, but it wasn't home. Everything was old and wooden and simple. It wasn't mine.
As I stood up, I saw the tray was gone, replaced by a glass of water. I downed it in three gulps before leaving my room hesitantly. I was at the end of a long hallway, all the other doors closed. I glanced at the next door over – Emma Bloom's room. She must have been asleep. And as I walked down the eerily-moonlit hall, I counted nine more doors – nine more children?
I stopped at the top of the staircase, glancing out the window by it. It overlooked a huge garden filled with trees and wildflowers and even a pond. Again, it could have been stunning, but it was foreign to me.
Trekking carefully down the steps, aware of the creaking of every floorboard in this rickety old home, I gave myself the tour. Maybe I was trying to convince myself this was real, still in doubt, or maybe I just needed to stretch my legs without wandering eyes. Either way, I strolled through the many rooms. A living room with a vast fireplace. A parlour with furniture you'd find in a charity shop. A kitchen fresh from the 1900s. Some more, that I just didn't have the courage to step inside.
It was dark, a ghastly blue glow washing over every surface, corner, nook and cranny. It was old and foreign and it wasn't home. 1930, did Miss Peregrine say this was? 1940? Was that really true?
I centred myself with a deep breath, but I knew what I needed to do. I had to go home. I couldn't stay here any longer.
—
The sounds of talking and shuffling of feet in the hallway woke me up later that morning. I tried not to dwell on every little thing, including the events of yesterday, as I forced myself out of bed.
Glancing out the window, I saw how different everything looked bathed in the morning light. Nice, though strange. It was still hard to believe I was in Cairnholm, though a different part of it. I wondered, for a split second, what this side of the island looked like in 2025. Maybe I'd find out soon enough.
After pulling my shoes on, I reluctantly left the bedroom, glancing around and relieved the other children were already downstairs. I found the bathroom at the end of the hall and took a moment to freshen up, even if it was just rinsing my mouth and splashing my face. My reflection wasn't great, but I cut myself some slack. I was holding up better than most given the circumstances.
With a goal in mind, I treaded carefully down the steps, following the vibrant sounds of people. I soon realised I was heading for the dining room – all looking much less ghastly during the day – where the others were eating breakfast. Only when I took a step inside, hoping they wouldn't notice me, did I feel a little nervous. And then taken aback, as all chatter ceased and nine pairs of eyes were on me.
I couldn't help but stare back, eyes roaming between the children seated around the long dining table. Peculiar was certainly the word to describe them. As well as their outdated (though perfectly appropriate to them) attire, it was their general appearance that left me speechless. One child was– what? Invisible? It could be the only explanation for the floating clothes in the seat. And another had bees buzzing around his head – I knew I'd seen bees yesterday!
"Miss Y/L/N, lovely to see you up and about," Miss Peregrine spoke from the head of the table, earning my attention. She wore a welcoming smile, no doubt trying to put me at ease from the staring peculiars.
I swallowed awkwardly, glancing at the others, before meeting her gaze. "Can I speak with you, please? Privately?"
She nodded breezily. "Of course!" I exhaled softly, about to make a move to leave, but she continued, "After breakfast."
I blinked. "Ideally now–"
"That would be rude," she interrupted politely. "Besides, you must be hungry. Join us. Please."
I was beginning to see how she was the person in charge here, for the way she spoke made me think I had no choice. And knowing what she was capable of and the fact that she was my only way out of here, I had no choice but to oblige.
Several pairs of eyes followed me as I awkwardly found the only free seat at the table, thankfully to the right of Miss Peregrine, but beside the strange invisible child who I had to make sure not to stare at in bewilderment.
"Children, this is Y/N Y/L/N," Miss Peregrine introduced me. "Y/N, these are the children I was telling you about."
One by one, she introduced each child, working her way around the table. There was Bronwyn, a very strong and androgynous-looking girl, but also apparently the eldest here; Olive, one of the youngest of them all and very smiley; Horace, the only one of them all to be dressed as if going to a formal event, even going as far as to wear a top hat which was especially strange for breakfast; Millard, who was indeed an invisible boy; Claire, another one of the youngest and seemed to be very shy in nature; Hugh, who was indeed surrounded by bees and could apparently control them too; Fiona, a kind but unruly looking girl, another of the eldest here; Enoch, an unimpressed and judgemental-looking boy; the twins, who didn’t utter a word; and finally Emma, the girl who gave me the soup and was now watching me like one watches a monkey in a zoo.
Under different circumstances, I would have been intrigued by them all, particularly about their peculiarities and how they'd ended up here. But I was too overcome with grief to care about any of it. Besides, I didn't belong here. I didn't want to get to know them. I just wanted to go home.
"So, Y/N, what's your peculiarity?" Olive asked with curiosity from the other side of the table.
"Olive," Bronwyn scolded quietly, before shooting me an apologetic glance.
"It's a fair question," Enoch muttered, still the most suspicious of me.
"She hasn't discovered it yet," Miss Pergerine answered for me, looking between them all knowingly. "Let's not overwhelm her, children."
I tensed my jaw slightly as I focused on eating from the bowl of porridge before me. Thankfully, the others soon fell into conversation as usual, letting me keep to myself, though I still felt the odd pair of eyes on me.
Finally, after a long and annoyingly tasty breakfast, Miss Peregrine invited me to her study to talk.
"What can I help you with, Miss Y/L/N?" she asked from behind her desk.
As confidently as I could muster, I said, "I want to go home."
Regretfully, she sighed. "You can't. This is your new home. I know it doesn't feel like it now, but–"
"No! I don't know what you think I am, but I don't belong here," I snapped. "You can't keep me here. I need to be with my parents."
Unfazed by my raised voice, she answered, "I know you do. But as I mentioned last night, the hollows are still there. You're in danger. And it isn't safe for you there, not like it is here. It's happened quicker than it should have, but you don't belong there anymore. I'm sorry."
I glared at her. "Even if what you're saying is true, it's my choice to make, isn't it? My life to decide what to do with? You don't know me."
"I've followed you since you landed on this island, my dear," she spoke gently. "I've known of you for a long time. Watching you. Making sure you're safe. I should have intervened sooner, then maybe this wouldn't have happened."
"Well, you didn't," I said harshly. "So, take me back. I didn't ask for this. I don't have powers like you seem to think. I'm not like you or the others."
"Just because you don't know of them, doesn't mean you don't have them," she pointed out. "Not only is it safe to live here, but the other children can help you. They can–"
"I don't care," I cut her off with a frown. "Just take me home. I want to be with my parents. Return to Y/H/T. Get away from here."
She didn't speak for a long time, merely stared at me curiously. I was planning the many ways I could run away from here or convince her to let me go when she finally stood up.
"Fine," she said calmly. "I'll take you back. But I'm warning you, you won't like what you find."
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "I'm sure I'll manage."
She didn't retort, no doubt an excellent skill she'd learnt from looking after nine children who definitely argued back at times. Instead, she walked me away from the house, through a lovely field and to a rocky tunnel. It was the 'loop entrance', she told me, and my ears popped like I was on a plane before we exited from the other side.
If I hadn't believed we'd time travelled before, I certainly did now, for the other side was a dark grey, windy day on Cairnholm – nothing like the sunny paradise we'd just left.
I didn't leave her side as she led me back to where the hollow attacked, where I expected to find my parents' bodies. My heart was beating in my throat as I prepared myself to face reality, but there was a small crowd of villagers held back by a police cordon instead. The whole area was off limits, the busiest corner of the town I'd seen since visiting. They'd found their bodies.
"...yeah, I heard she left after doing it," someone was saying in the crowd, mid conversation, and I wouldn't have paid attention if it weren't for the mention of me. "The daughter always looked dodgy. Can't believe she was eating at the pub a table over just yesterday."
"Such a shame too, they looked like good folk," another said. "That girl ought to be locked in prison and they throw away the key. Absolutely disgusting."
I furrowed my brows as more similar conversations carried with the wind. They thought I killed them? They thought I was a murderer?
"It's her! Copper, over here!" someone shouted suddenly, and a finger was pointed in my direction.
I snapped my gaze to them, watching as the crowd began to back up once they spotted me.
"What? No! I didn't do anything!" I said defensively.
"Oi! Put your hands up and stay put!" a police officer shouted, raising his baton.
I backed up, terrified. "I didn't do anything, I–!"
"Get her!" he shouted to his partner.
Miss Peregrine, whom I forgot was stood beside me, yanked me back by the arm. Her reassuring eyes met mine as she said, "Run. Back to the loop. Now!"
I didn't waste a second as I listened and ran in the opposite direction, hearing the commotion break out behind me. I didn't stop to see a thing, only focused on legging it back to the loop entrance where they hopefully wouldn't find me. My chest was burning when I pushed through the rocky tunnel and out the other side, back into the sunny ends of 1940s Cairnholm.
My mind was racing as I bent over, catching my breath. It was all real. Every bit of it. And to make things worse, nobody else knew except me. Everybody thought I'd murdered my own parents!
Tears streamed down my face as I heard someone behind me minutes later, realising it was Miss Peregrine returning. When she found my gaze, her expression softened.
"They think it's me," I said between tears. "They think I killed them!"
"Y/N," she murmured, stepping forward to comfort me, but I stepped back.
"No! They think I did it!" I shouted, hurt.
"This is why I didn't want you to go back," she said with remorse.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "You have to fix this. You have to clear my name. You– you have powers for crying out loud, do something!"
She hesitated. "I could, but it isn't safe for you there. It wouldn't matter. You must stay here, Miss Y/L/N, you–"
"This place isn't my home, it's a nightmare!" I shouted angrily, though the tears did nothing to convey that. "I don't want to live the same day over and over, I don't care! I just– fuck!" I clutched my head, closing my eyes tightly. "I want everything to go back to normal. I don't belong here..."
How was any of this fair? What had I done to deserve this? It was a stupid trip to Wales. That was all it should have been. And in one fell swoop, I'd lost my parents and my life.
"I'm sorry," was all she said, albeit apologetically. I opened my eyes to see her sympathetic expression. "I can't bring your parents back."
This, I believed. But it wasn't what I wanted to hear. Instead, it only frustrated me further and I spun on my heel and stormed off.
"Y/N!" she called after me, and if she'd really wanted to, she could have flown after me and dragged me back to the house. But she didn't, not even when I ignored her calls and trekked through the field to nowhere.
I was glad for the solitude, needing somewhere to make sense of everything. None of this side of the island was familiar to me and so my feet carried me through the grass and to the beach, eventually digging themselves in the sand by the shore.
The ocean lapped before my feet, the sky so clear I couldn't tell where the horizon split into sea and sky. Despite how bright and warm and picturesque the world around me seemed, it did nothing to help my mood. If anything, I felt myself deflate like a balloon, a cruel emptiness settling instead.
Everything had happened too quickly, but just because I didn't like it didn't make it true. Maybe this was it. My new reality. Everybody thought I was a murderer and apparently my life was in danger, so I couldn't return home.
But this place – this loop – wasn't home. These people weren't family. How could I stay here? How could I do anything without my parents?
Hours passed as I sank into the sand, sitting down and staring blankly ahead. The peace was welcomed, calming the chaos just a little. There was much to think about, much to consider, but for now, I simply focused on the smell of the salty air and the sound of the waves around me.
My peace was soon disturbed when I heard footsteps not far behind me. With a sigh, I looked over my shoulder to see the blonde peculiar, Emma, approaching me. Of course Miss Peregrine had sent one of them to check on me.
"Hello," Emma spoke, looking down at me. "I'm not sure if you remember me, but I'm Emma Bloom."
I swallowed hard, looking ahead once more. "Hi."
"I thought I'd–" she began, but stopped herself suddenly, which made me look at her. Her hazel eyes were widened slightly as they were looking down at my body. "Erm, how are you doing that?"
I quirked a brow, half interested. "What?"
Carefully, she said, "You're not wet, but you're sat in the water."
I furrowed my brows as I looked down, trying to see what she was seeing. And then I realised she was right. I was sat in the sand, the water lapping around me and leaving the perfect dry circle in my vicinity. Not a single part of my clothes or feet were wet.
"What the hell?!" I panicked, jumping up out of my spot, my feet finally stepping in the water.
"Your peculiarity," Emma said with intrigue, "is it controlling water?"
My peculiarity? What was she talking about?!
I backed up, away from the water, feeling the panic spread through my chest, making it difficult to breath. This wasn't normal. None of it.
"That's so cool!" Emma said with amazement, before her eyes moved from the water to my expression. Her smile dropped as she stepped towards me. "Oh, gosh."
I shook my head, hand on my chest as if it would calm the pace of my racing heart. This wasn't normal! This place was changing everything and I couldn't take it!
"Hey, you're okay, you're okay," Emma spoke softly, hand resting on my shoulder as the other took mine from my chest. "Follow my breathing, darling."
I shook my head, overwhelmed and overstimulated and unsure what to do about it. She kept her eyes trained on mine, gently lowering me to the sand to sit down, not letting go of my hand.
"It's okay, you just need to breathe," she encouraged, kneeling before me. "Like this."
I tried to focus, her voice anchoring me back to reality, mimicking her inhale and exhale of breath. It must have been working as the world didn't seem so loud anymore and my heart didn't feel like it was going to burst out my chest.
"There you go," she reassured, squeezing my hand gently. "You're alright."
I continued to focus on my breathing as I let go of her hand, to which she seemed to get the hint and let go of my shoulder. She remained kneeling before me just in case though.
"I didn't mean to worry you," she said apologetically, pushing her hair away as the wind blew it in her eyes. "If it was your peculiarity, then great is all I meant."
"It's not great, it's horrifying," I whispered, glassy eyes fixated on the sand.
"It won't always be," she empathised.
Had I really done that without knowing? Controlled the water? Wouldn't I have noticed an ability like that?
"I came to bring you back to the house," Emma changed the subject. "You've been out here a while."
Any energy I had to argue with her was drained, so I merely nodded and stood up, following her back to the house.
"I know you got a brief introduction to us all this morning, but it truly isn't the same as spending time with us properly," Emma began to fill the silence as we walked, clearly not getting the hint that I wasn't in the mood to chat. "And you don't know of our peculiarities either. It's not often we get visitors or new additions. Everybody is excited to get to know you."
She glanced at me expectantly, awaiting a reply, but I simply kept my eyes on the grass as we trekked through it.
"My peculiarity is fire," she explained, not deterred by my silence. "And Bronwyn, she's extremely strong, could carry the house if you gave her a minute. Then there's Horace, he can see the future. May have even foreseen your arrival here."
"And did he foresee my parents getting murdered by that hollow?" I cut her off bitterly. "Foresee me doing nothing to stop it? Forced to come here? Forced to leave everything behind?"
She pursed her lips with uncertainty.
"Yeah, I didn't think so...," I muttered, stuffing my hands in my pockets.
Finally quiet, she led me back to the house where some of the other children were playing outside. Again, they weren't subtle in glancing my way, but I ignored their lingering gazes as Emma led me inside.
"Do you want to go to Miss Per–"
I ignored her as I continued walking, this time straight upstairs and to 'my' room where I slammed the door behind me.
Control fire? See the future? It was a cosmic joke! I was still waiting to wake up from this nightmare, to have my family back, but it never seemed to end.
I was dusting the sand off my clothes and shoes when I heard a knock on the door.
"May I come in?" It was Miss Peregrine.
I tossed my dirty shoes in the corner and refrained from rolling my eyes. "Sure."
Miss Peregrine walked in as I sat at the edge of the bed uneasily.
"I heard you discovered your peculiarity," she said encouragingly.
I tutted, looking away from her. "Barely."
"Well, it's something," she remained positive. "You can figure it out together with me tomorrow. If you'd like."
Tomorrow. So, it was definite. I was staying here. I didn't have a choice, did I? This was my life now. Figure out what this terrifying peculiarity was. Learn to live with it. Live without my parents. No more school or studying or Y/H/T.
This.
Upon realising I wasn't going to answer, Miss Peregrine changed the subject. "Miss Bloom is worried about you."
I exhaled sharply. "She doesn't even know me."
"She'd like to," Miss Peregrine said hopefully.
At this, I rolled my eyes.
As if finally losing her patience with my attitude, she said, "You've tracked sand into the house."
I looked to her, sarcastically saying, "Sorry, my bad."
Indifferent, she shrugged. "It's okay, dear. You'll be cleaning it up. And having a bath."
I blinked. "What?"
"It's pardon," she corrected firmly. "And in this home, everyone pulls their weight. You make a mess, you clean it up." I scoffed in disbelief, but she chose to ignore it. "The tub is down the hall. Miss Bloom has kindly warmed it for you."
"What?" I asked with confusion, and when she shot me a disapproving look, I was forced to correct myself. "Pardon?"
"Her peculiarity," she reminded me. "Pyrokinesis."
It only then dawned on me that heated plumbing wasn't a notable feature of the 1940s. Amongst everything, that was quite a terrible reminder.
"Hurry up," Miss Peregrine said impatiently. "The broom is in the cupboard under the stairs. The sand won't brush itself!"
She left the room and I had to take a second to acknowledge what the hell was going on, but even that wasn't enough time. Nonetheless, I found myself brushing up the trail of sand in the hall and up the steps before preparing some clothes for the bath.
To my dismay, the only clothes in the cupboard were from this time era, so my options were limited – some dark trousers and an olive blouse. The only items I had left from my time were my phone that didn't work and my purse. I left those on my bed before taking the new clothes and freshening up in the bathroom.
I didn't linger as I scrubbed myself raw, washing off the horrors of the last twenty-four hours and freshening up the best I could. On the way back to my room, Millard and Claire both offered a polite greeting my way, to which I awkwardly mumbled one back. Then Bronwyn found me in my room and politely reminded me that it was dinner time.
With how quick the day had gone, I hadn't even realised I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. Dinner was tasty, though mildly irritating, knowing the others were stealing glances at me like I was some sort of freak show. A few of them tried to talk to me, but the last thing I wanted was a conversation. Eventually they got the hint.
After dinner, I silently helped them to clear up, not really having a choice with Miss Peregrine reminding me that we all pulled our weight around here.
"Y/N," one of the children called my name before I could disappear to my room. It was Olive, if I remembered correctly, one of the youngest. She offered a smile as she spoke, "We're all going to sit by the fireplace and have some hot chocolates. Would you like to join us?"
She was only being polite, but it was the last thing I wanted to do.
"No, thanks," I said a bit too firmly.
Her smile barely dropped before I left the kitchen, past the nosy eyes and ears of the other peculiars, and back to my room.
Peculiar!reader x Emma Bloom (platonic!) - Inspired by 'Wish That You Were Here by Florence and the Machine
“Y/N? Y/N, are you even listening to me?” Emma’s voice breaks through your thoughts like a knife and you jump in your seat to attention, shaking your head slightly. “I didn’t catch that, sorry.” You mumble sheepishly, gazing back out into the distance, looking towards the sea once more.
It was one of the things you had appreciated the most when you had first arrived into the Cairnholm loop, you hadn’t always been so lucky. Being a peculiar that most normies would liken to a siren, it was quite a pickle if you didn’t have a body of water to ‘haunt’. It had made life in the middle of London quite challenging at times.
When that loop was destroyed, you were placed here, in Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children… but you then had to leave someone behind. Someone special.
“You’re doing it again.” Emma warned you, the look on her face is equal parts concern and amusement. “Sorry… the sea is drawing me in strongly today.”
“Do you want to head down there? We’re past the reset, so it’ll be safe.” Emma offers, gesturing to the path. “Are you sure you can handle it?” You ask, knowing that if you let out your song, buried in you, that you could control her to do almost anything.
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep a safe distance from you. Just means we may have to shout.” Emma smirks. You nod in agreement, and walk down with her silence. You became lost in your thoughts again, thinking of your dear friend. Where were they now? What year, what loop? Were they even still alive?
Your siren’s call slips out before you even realise it as you take one step into the water. True to her word, Emma remains somewhat further back up the beach and luckily seems unaffected. “So, what is this about?” Emma shouts to you, knowing that you weren’t usually so affected by your peculiarity.
“Her. Again.” You call back in a floaty, sing-song voice. “She’s... always on my mind. I wish she was here. Every second, every hour.” Saying every day seemed moot, considering it was always the same day in September.
Emma hummed back in understanding. “I know how you feel. I think of Abe every day too.” You pause your song, surprised to hear Emma talk of him. She rarely brought him up, and you considered it an honour that she felt comfortable enough to do so with you.
“Do you ever feel like missing him becomes so burdening? Like a feeling that just sits on your chest, weighing you down, making it hard to catch your breath?” You ask Emma, your voice still singing a haunting call.
“…Often.” Emma shouts back, taking one step further away from you to ensure she didn’t become trapped by your song.
“I don’t even know if she is safe. Sometimes, I wonder if she thinks of me as often as I think of her.”
“I bet she does.” Emma replies, hoping in her heart that Abe thought of her often too.
“Some days, the image of her seems so very far.” My siren’s song starts to die down, as I turn towards her. A tear slips down my cheek. “I don’t even have a photo of her. I worry that one day, I’ll forget what she looks like. That all I’ll have left is the idea of her in my mind.”
Emma remains quiet for a while, feeling almost guilty that she at least had many remainders of Abe to fall back on. “Why don’t you paint a picture of her? I’m sure the bird will have supplies.” Emma suggested tentatively, praying you responded favourably to it.
You stepped out of the water, looking back out to sea. “Yes… I think I shall ask her.” You walked back up the beach, looping your arm into her’s as you returned the house. “Thank you, Emma.” You say softly as you step back into the safety of the house. “I won’t let her be forgotten.”
MISS PEREGRINE'S HOME FOR PECULIAR CHILDREN AO3 SERIESES
EVERYTHING FOR MISS PEREGRINE'S HOME FOR PECULIAR CHILDREN
Alma LeFay Peregrine
Enoch O'Connor
(Any of the other characters don't have any requests written nor pending as for now, so I'm unable to have serieses for them as AO3 requires you to have at least one oneshot written to be able to add it to a series, and I can't promise serieses for characters who don't have requests pending/I have no ideas of my own for them)
For anyone who's concerned, THESE ARE NOT ONESHOT COLLECTIONS, they are made using AO3's "series" feature.
«Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children». Being Enoch O'Connor's Girlfriend (#5)
I write in Russian and use a translator. If you find any errors, please let me know about it.
Т/И - your name (Y/N)
Т/Ф - your last name (Y/L/N)
___
Being Enoch's girlfriend:
• Your ability is to resurrect the dead or revive dolls. To do this, you don't need a living heart, only your energy.
• You were interested in O'Connor from the first day, because he also knows how to revive the dead, even for a short time.
• The guy was very reserved.
• But you wanted to get to know him and, if possible, make friends, so you tried to learn something about him from the other inhabitants of the Home.
• Olivia has told you a lot.
• And then Enoch found out about it.
• He wasn't too happy.
• You, unlike him, were glad.
• You've been trying to get close to the guy for a long time, but he didn't communicate with anyone except Olivia.
• In the end, you managed to make friends.
• Now he had someone to arrange doll fights with.
• You have often had fun this way.
• You heard from Elephanta that Enoch had hardly smiled before.
• Now he often smiled in your presence.
• When Jake came to Miss Peregrine's house, you started spending a lot of time with him, because you were wondering how ordinary people live in the twenty-first century.
• And you also knew Jacob's grandfather, Abraham Portman.
• Portman Jr. at first did not want to tell you about the time in which he lives, because Miss Peregrine forbade him.
• But you were persistent and eventually the guy told you everything you wanted to know.
• And O'Connor fell in love with you and was jealous of the "rival".
• Enoch was very afraid that he would lose his beloved.
• Olivia gently advised you to talk less with Jake.
• You didn't listen to her, so Enoch got into a fight with Portman.
• And you, Olivia and Emma tried to separate them.
• In the end, Miss Peregrine came and punished the brawlers.
• "Why did you do it?"
"He communicates too closely with you."
"I will decide with whom I will be friends and, moreover, with whom to meet!"
"But I love you!"
• While you were standing in a stupor, the necromancer wasted no time and kissed you.
• And you pulled him even closer.
***
• The next day, everyone already knew that you were dating.
• Enoch began to smile even more often when you were in the room or just nearby.
• Strange children often approached you with various requests, you did not refuse to help anyone.
• Now it's not just Jake and Emma who are teased for kissing all the time.
• Only with you, the children do it more carefully, because they know that you can then send animated dolls to them. Mostly, it happens at night.
• Sometimes it is "a little" annoying that the younger ones tease you.
• Officially the "Weirdest Couple" at Home.
• You love Enoch very much.
• And he reciprocates.
• Miss Peregrine is very happy for you.
• However, like all the other inhabitants of the house.
