#headmistress peregrine

[willisnotmental]

i’m starting to see a pattern in some of the woman i’m attracted to and i don’t think it’s a good thing

#emphasis on some #these are just the teachers/headmistresses #though all my other fictional crushes have a lot of authority #guys i have mommy issues #alma lefay peregrine #alma peregrine #larissa weems wednesday #larissa weems #principal larissa weems #principal weems #farah dowling #marilyn thornhill #laurel gates #leonora lesso #lady leonora lesso #lady lesso #melissa schemmenti #i think i have problems

[trainwrecksys]

Loop day! :D

#mphfpc #our beloved mom/headmistress #art #fanart #miss peregrine #alma lefay peregrine #loop day #september 3rd #spiral sys art #It’s also my dads birthday today so that’s fun #I got him the picture of Dorian gray and a paw patrol birthday card

[sam1kath]

Raven Hair and Emerald Eyes

(book! Miss Peregrine x Fem! Reader)

I hope you'll enjoy it!! :D

You have been in the loop for many years now, yet you could still vividly remember the day you saw it for the first time. Stepping your foot on the island was no accident. You were a long time in search of a home, and when finally one day an ymbryne offered you a place as a sort of assistant, you couldn’t contain your excitement and hit the road as soon as you packed your only bag. However, there was one issue. You had a terrible sense of orientation, and the brief set of instructions about its location scared you. You trailed the island far and wide, getting lost on multiple occasions, yet you still couldn’t find the entrance.

One day, however, when you were once again unsuccessfully returning to the shore to catch the last ferry off the island, a tall blond girl about 17 stopped you with a smile.

“Hello, Miss Y/L/N. Miss Peregrine has been expecting you. Come with me.”

From that day on you became a new inhabitant of the 1940 Cairnholm loop. The children warmed up to you instantly, and even Enoch—who you later learnt didn’t usually extend this courtesy to just anyone—was delighted by your presence.

The headmistress and ymbryne of the loop, a woman of disting Victorian appearance and raven hair, greeted you with open arms, if not as familiarly, keeping the kind of professional distance you’d have with a new co-worker. Even after months of living there, it was always ‘Miss Y/L/N here’ and ‘Miss Y/L/N there’.

It was your 14th month in the loop that she finally proposed a first-name basis kind of relationship and this offer didn’t extend to situations in front of the children up until a few months ago.

The peregrine was a peculiar woman in many ways—she intrigued you—and you realised all too late that you were slowly falling for her. It was the way she smiled when she thought that no one was watching, how her eyes lit up when she taught the children, the way she would gently pull on the sleeves of her dresses when she was nervous, or the passion with which she fiercely protected her children whenever a policeman knocked on their door with a complaint.

With each day, you fell deeper and deeper into the tangled depths of affection, and that scared you.

One evening, you got into a passionate discussion about the passage of time and age, and she casually mentioned she was born in the late 1870s. At that time, you believed this knowledge was of no special meaning to you since you were used to the birthdates of people around you going as far back as the 1500s. But as your admiration grew, you realised that this information might just signify a problem.

You didn’t know a lot about history, but the topic of acceptance of homosexual people and relationships was something you were quite familiar with. The late 19th century certainly wasn’t a time when you could openly confess your love for another woman, and you feared that growing up in such a time, Alma might share the same convictions. If you weren’t hesitant about sharing your feelings before, you were surely not going to find it easy now, so you decided to test the waters first.

Finally, the perfect day arrived. The children were playing in the garden; the sun was just in the right spot in the sky, and you summoned the courage to bring the topic up to Alma.

“I read this book recently,” you began, “And it’s quite good. I don't know if you know it. It’s Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf.” Alma replied with a raised eyebrow.

“You do realise that you're asking me if I’ve read one of the greatest works of modernist literature,” she said smugly, and you couldn’t help but blush a little at your clumsy way of approaching the subject.

“Of course, sorry. Well, then I suppose you do remember Clarissa mentioning falling in love with her best friend.” Alma visibly froze at that.

“Yes.”

You felt a lump growing in your throat. “How do you feel about that sort of thing, if I may ask?”

She scanned your face for a moment, her emerald eyes boring deep into yours as if searching for something. The living room felt suddenly too small for the two of you.

“Is there any specific reason you're asking?”

“N-No.” You mentally cursed at the slight stutter in your answer.

Alma finally tore her eyes away, leaving you breathless; however, still awaiting her answer.

“I'm no monster. Why should one’s life be less valid than someone else’s just because they love outside the constraints of our rigid society’s expectations? We are all people, aren’t we? And humanity’s greatest strength is the love we have for one another. Love makes life worth living. If each of us loved just a little more, the world would be a better place.”

As you felt your eyes water, you discovered you were never going to be able to reach the bottom of the ocean of love you felt for this woman, and you weren’t sure you wanted to.

She must have mistaken your silence for unease, so she asked. “Do you hold a different view?”

“No! Birds no. You- You just phrased it beautifully.” You smiled at her, and when you saw her face bloom like a flower, you couldn't help but blush once again.

But as you also learnt the first week in this house, peace never lasts, so before you could reach out and pull a mischievous strand of hair out of her face, little Claire ran into the room.

This conversation warmed your heart for weeks, lighting a spark of hope inside you. Maybe there was some hope for you. But still, you didn’t feel ready to confess your love for her, so you were trying to come up with ways to show her how much she meant to you without saying as much. You would remember any little thing that she told you because what she found interesting you held dear to your heart. You would recommend her books that reminded you of her, collect her favourite flowers to display in vases around the house or shower her with compliments whenever you got the chance.

You were flirting, and she was oblivious to it. Maybe she didn’t realise it or she was just letting you down slowly; you couldn’t tell. Her cheeks would redden each time and she’d go on to say something like, such affections needn’t be shown to her as she looks the same as she does every day, and being a good ymbryne doesn’t have to earn her compliments. To that, you’d respond that she doesn’t get appreciated enough and that would win a bright smile from her.

“And ‘good’ is an understatement.”

In between your duties as an assistant, you would also often spend little bits of free time on the mainland in the city library, scavenging the shelves for books you could read together. Going to the counter with another stack of books, you’d meet the gaze of the new librarian, a man in his early thirties with short blond hair and kind brown eyes. You never talked much besides the pleasantries.

Once you’d get home with the loot, Alma would meet you at the door to help you bring the book into the study.

This has been going on for about six months. You and Alma grew closer each day, but at some point, you’ve come to the sad realisation that she saw you as only a friend. For a time, you lied to yourself, saying it was more than enough for you. However, as the days went by, the beautiful feeling of falling deeper in love with her became a cruel, dragging force that slowly suffocated you.

You needed to escape and that was the time the guy behind the counter first spoke to you beyond politeness. His name was Jonathan, and the two of you quickly bonded over your shared love for astronomy. You would sometimes wait for him at the end of his shift, and you’d have lunch together in the nearby park. He would tell you about his life and family—of how unaccepting his father was when he told him he was bisexual. In turn, you told him how your parents freaked out when they found out you liked women, leaving out the fact that it was in the 1960s. And the more you got to know him, the more you were using him as a way to avoid Alma.

As you were one day in the park again, he turned to you with this strange look in his eyes. He told you he liked you and that even though he knew about your feelings for someone else, he would very much like to go on a date with you even if your heart wasn’t entirely in it—as friends, he said. Then he continued to make a speech about how you shouldn’t stay unhappy forever just because one person doesn’t see how amazing you are. You got teary-eyed and knowing you had no chance with Alma you finally decided to take a step to move on.

“Alma?” You were just in the living room, enjoying your siesta. Alma was seated, or rather, strangely bird-like nestled, in an armchair by the window, reading a book. She tilted her head, her eyes staying on the text to the very last moment before she met your gaze. She was sometimes so much like a bird, and you found every bit endearing.

“Yes?”

“I was wondering if I could spend the evening on the mainland,” you said nervously, feeling strangely guilty, like a child lying to their parents about who broke the living room window. She smiled in confusion.

“You know you don’t have to ask. You’re no prisoner, Y/N.” She chuckled lightly. “You know I trust you to make your own decision and keep yourself safe in the process. Just make sure you catch the last ferry back to the island so the children and I don’t have to worry all night,” and with that, her eyes returned to her book.

“Aren’t you curious what I’ll be doing?” Was your absence really that indifferent to her? Alma closed her book with a clap.

“Polite persons aren’t nosy, but if you’re so excited to tell me, then be my guest,” she smiled.

You took a deep breath. “I’ve met someone.”

If her face had betrayed anything you hadn’t noticed—not a single identifiable emotion—yet, as if a dark veil had been drawn over it.

“Oh,” was all she said before returning to her book. You had secretly hoped she’d say more than that.

“It’s a date,” you added in a desperate attempt to get a reaction from her.

“I figured,” she stated simply. Your heart ached at the lack of care, and you made your way to the door.

“Y/N?” You stopped in your tracks. “Enjoy your rendezvous.”

The door slammed behind you.

You met Jonathan in the small city square, and from there you went to ‘the best restaurant in town’ as he called it regardless of the bizarre reality that there was only one.

The date passed in a blur. You sat at a table in the corner of the establishment and ordered wine. Jonathan talked and talked, and you felt terrible that you didn’t pay any attention as, in the gloom of the room his light hair turned dark, and after a few glasses, his eyes turned green, and all you could see was her in her dark Victorian dress, smiling across the table.

When the clock struck nine you finally separated, for a quarter to ten was when the last ferry to the island departed. He insisted on escorting you to the harbor but you rejected his offer as you felt you needed to be alone.

The shipman was a little annoyed that he had to sail to the island with just one passenger, but when you gave him triple the amount needed for one ticket, he stopped fussing.

Your hair moved in the wind as you watched the dark sea, occasionally noticing the dark shadow of one of the many wrecks on the bottom, quietly awaiting saviour. You slightly stretched over the railing, and gazing upon your reflection in the dark waters, you realised you too felt like a wreck. Cold, and alone, and lifeless. Shivers ran down your spine, and you pulled your coat closer around you.

On the island, you stumbled back to the old tomb, grateful you walked the dangerous path so many times that now you knew it well enough to navigate it in the dark. Carefully laying one foot in front of the other, you made your way into the loop entrance.

You found Alma in the living room by the table, leaning over a glass of orange liquid. Her raven hair was cascading like a waterfall over her shoulders, its ends getting lost in the sea of green velvet of her tea gown. She twirled the liquid in her glass before she tilted her head back and emptied it into her throat. Appearing to be greatly troubled, she vigorously rubbed her temples.

Without a second thought, you moved forward in a desperate attempt to comfort her and accidentally bumped your toe into a coffee table. Pain shot through your body, and you swore under your breath.

“You’re back; how wonderful. How was it with that lover of yours?” said Alma with a fake smile plastered on her face.

You slowly walked over to the table, and sank down in a chair across from Alma.

“I presume it didn’t go well?”

“I suppose you could say that, yes.” You met her eyes, and what you saw in them broke you. You couldn’t have seen it from the door, but up close you were certain she had been crying.

“What happened to you?”

“Oh, this. Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” Rubbing her eyes she muttered, ”Would you like some?” and changed the subject by gesturing to her glass.

You decided that you were too overwhelmed with your own turmoil to help hers so you decided to let it slide.

“Might as well.”

She reached for the bottle and filled her glass. Then she slowly slid it towards you. Without a word spoken, you lifted the glass to your lips. The alcohol was already room temperature, but you didn’t mind and let the comfortable burn consume you.

“You never drink whisky.”

“I do now. But that’s not important,” she said, taking the bottle in her hand to look at the label. “I think I hate it,” she added so nonchalantly that you chuckled. Your eyes met.

“I need to tell you something,” both of you blurted out suddenly.

“Please, you go first.”

“I don’t think that’s-”

“Please.”

“Alright,” she replied hesitantly. Straightening her posture and clearing her throat, she reached over the table and caught your hands in hers. Even though it was fairly dark, you still clearly saw that her cheeks were crimson. And as she looked at you and you looked at her, you were sure she wasn’t alone.

“You- You might think me a delusional old woman, but…just yesterday, I would have sworn you fancied me.”

You froze, chills running down your back instantly.

“I know it’s silly. I suppose I saw what I-” she paused, looking at your joined hands.

“Go on. Please,” you squeezed them. Her nervous eyes darted back to yours.

“People see what they want to see,” she began hesitantly. “And I so desperately wanted you to feel the same.”

“W-what do you mean?” She closed her eyes, her eyebrows furrowed.

“Don’t make me say it just so you can reject me.” If you weren’t red before, now you most definitely were. Without giving you a single glance she let go of you and hid her face in her hands.

“You mean you-”

“Yes,” she muttered sharply, flustration lacing her words. The distance between you suddenly felt unbearable.

“You fancy me?” you asked once more in joyous disbelief. Alma slowly sank in her seat lower and lower, her face still hidden in her palms.

“Stop asking,” she whispered.

Your chair screeched as you sharply pushed it from the table, jumping to your feet, and now you stood over Alma.

Finally, she doubtfully looked up, her emerald eyes filled with fear, hope, admiration.

Not waiting for another second, you leaned down, putting one hand on the backrest of her chair for support. As you were now inches away from each other you witnessed Alma’s expression rapidly change. Her face grew redder and her eyes darkened.

“W-what are you doing?” she stammered as you hesitantly stroked her cheek.

“Can I kiss you?” you asked, not being able to contain your smile any longer.

For a moment her eyes darted between yours, checking for any sign of mockery.

And then you felt two hands pulling you down by the collar, and before you realised what was happening, your lips were pressed against hers in a tender kiss.

The wheels of time stopped and it was just you and her. You felt her hands in your hair, the warmth of her body against yours, her hair against your cheek. It felt perfect and real, and it made you feel warm and cared for.

The amount of love with which Alma gazed at you when you pulled away would fill even the deepest ocean—it would reach the furthest star in the galaxy. And you were certain her expression mirrored yours because, right there, you felt the happiest you’ve ever been.

#alma lefay peregrine #mphfpc #miss peregrines home for peculiar children #alma peregrine #miss peregrine #ymbryne #fanfic #alma peregrine x reader #miss peregrine x reader #miss peregrine book

[cairnholm-express]

ms. peregrine headcanons

appearance, life before loop, life in loop, other

appearance

⋆ has a black wooden cane with a bird carved into the top

⋆ has black hair and green eyes

⋆ around 5'6

⋆ looks roughly 35 – 45

⋆ pale

⋆ prefers gothic style clothing – specifically victorian goth

life before loop

⋆ born in the 1860, raised by ms. avocet and ms. bunting

⋆ lived alone for a while, jumping from loop to loop, until she started to want to take care of child peculiars

⋆ her first peculiars were bronwyn, victor, and claire. she settled on going to cairnholm because it was peaceful enough considering WWII was beginning.

⋆ at first, claire was only a few months old, bronwyn was around 12, and victor was 13. they moved into her wards sometime around 1937, making claire 3-4, bronwyn 16, and victor 16.

⋆ she took care of them as if they were family, not just her "duty."

⋆ she knew a lot of the village people and would trade things for other goods.

life in loop

⋆ when she made the loop, she had made sure they were able to find gas masks, extra food, and first aid if they needed to leave. she made an entire room dedicated to supplies they might need.

⋆ a few years afterwards, her wards consisted of the previous 3, emma, abe, enoch, and horace. olive arrived, fiona and hugh came within days of each other, and millard joined soon after.

⋆ she kept thinking of them as her family, but she slowly warmed up to each of them as they came.

⋆ she also made sure her loop was a kind of loop that could have some parts changed so that the children could read books and have their bookmarks still there, grow food in the garden, and change and wash clothes without them resetting. only things from outside the perimeters of the yard and the people living there would reset every day, continuing not to age.

other

ms. peregrine's rules

1. her wards will never permanently exceed 15, including herself.

exceptions: guests and great times of need

2. physical fighting is prohibited and will be punished with extra housework

exceptions: self defense

3. verbal yelling is only allowed if and when it is playful, not extravagantly disruptive, or does not end in a great deal of tears. if and when it is not, all parties are to see ms. peregrine immediately

exceptions: when all parties think it's best not to explain it to the headmistress — she must confirm it will not bring harm to any of them

4. under no circumstances shall a peculiar be ridiculed or judged for their peculiarity.

exceptions: when the ridicular is doing it as a joke and said peculiar is alright with it happening

#mphfpc requests #mphfpc writing #ms peregrine #ms. peregrine #alma peregrine #mphfpc blog #mphfpc #mphfpc headcanons

[milfswriter]

Family

Alma Peregrine/ The children in general x Reader

Request: Fluffy household headcanons

Notes: me and @queerpersonified decided to bring the Alma tag back to life cause Alma simps deserve better :)

Alright so...We all know you're the fun, cool parent here

It gets on Alma's nerves VERY easily.

"Can we play raid the village?" "No, Mr. Nullings" "she meant yes, but don't kill anyone!".

She'd give you a glare and receives an innocent smile in return

You were a family, not just peculiars living in a loop with their headmistress and her cool wife.

You're less likely to be the one grounding any of them unless it's Enoch. the boy never ceases to get on your nerves when he raises his voice at Alma or doesn't clean his death-smelling room.

piggyback rides with claire and olive to the dining room.

Birthday parties!!. Even though it's the same day every day, you keep a calendar in the kitchen with each child's initials on their birthday. Even Alma's, though she scolds you for indulging in unnecessary celebrations like this.

"It is necessary. You turn 182 today! everyone say happy birthday miss peregrine!" you laugh as her face turns a darker shade of red than she'd like to show while the children chant the famous birthday song.

morning kisses at the breakfast table that make the children cringe

Being referee and goalkeeper at the same time while the boys play soccer, Horace tutting at them for their 'unclassy behavior'.

Alma would not touch you with a five-foot pool as she looks at your dirt-covered clothes from throwing yourself around to catch Hugh's ball.

brushing Emma's hair every morning, much to her annoyance. "I'm eighty-eight years old" "and I'm a hundred and forty-three, you're still a child".

Stifling a groan at Bronwyn's strength when she hugs you.

Telling Millard to wear clothes every time you see an object flying in the air with a box of tissues thrown at him.

laying your head on Alma's lap in the living room while she smokes her pipe every afternoon, her long nails running through your hair as you close your eyes.

Keeping Enoch from Viktor's room, sometimes even locking it.

Being the only one besides Hugh that Fiona actually talks to

Bedtime has always been your favorite, tucking all your children into bed after a compulsory bedtime story from Tales of the peculiar, Alma waiting in the doorway to go to bed together.

Late night swaying in the kitchen to a song you'd hum in your wife’s ear, your hands at Alma's waist while hers are around your neck.

Taglist:

@ara-a-bird @thenazwife @mistysswampmud @yelenablshop @acornacre @yourfavdummy @mmemalwa @multifandomfix

#alma peregrine x reader #miss peregrine x reader #mphfpc x reader #eva green x reader #miss peregrine's home for peculiar children

[athenodora-sulpicia-writer]

My Little Love- Miss Peregrine

Context: Miss Peregrine has just given birth to beautiful little girl, this is just a little snapshot from their first moments together.

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this little moment, don’t question how Miss Peregrine got pregnant just enjoy the cute moment.

Warning(s): None

A great happiness had flooded over the Children's Home on Cairnholm Island in Wales. The year was 2001 in the present but still it remained forever the year 1940 in the loop of the island and a beautiful miracle had just occurred.

In the early hours of the afternoon, at precisely 1:13pm, the happy and healthy cries of a new born erupted in the bedroom of the Headmistress of the home, Alma LeFay Peregrine had given birth to a beautiful baby girl.

Miss Peregrine had gone into labour in the morning and with a house filled with children, to say that the ymbryne quickly became hysterical was understatement. The baby was two weeks early, sending everyone who occupied the house into a state of panic.

Everything had been planned accordingly for in two weeks time and Miss Cuckoo and Miss Sparrow had graciously agreed to come and help for a few days when the baby did finally arrive.

Of course it was partially Alma's fault that she had gotten into that position, as she should have known that babies weren't ruled by the concept of time but in the end her Ymrbrynic mind and pregnancy brain had made her completely look over that point.

But it didn't matter now, not now that Alma was sitting upright in bed cradling her baby against her chest, enjoying the skin to skin contact as her little girl began to familiarise herself with the world around her and the woman who carried her.

Miss Peregrine had accomplished many things in her long life and seen many a miracle but nothing could or would ever compare to the little bundle of joy she had created. It shocking, how after all this time of caring for her own wards, that she could feel a different type of love at all.

Her wards had been her life, her sole purpose for existing and they still were but now being the sole protector of such a small life who's blood was so similar to her own, Alma's maternal instincts and already large heart had expanded to lengths she'd never thought possible before.

As the baby slept fast asleep in her arms all Alma could do was was admire the life she had created. It had been nine months of waiting, nine months of worrying and nine months of hoping.

The worrying had been the hardest part, Alma could live with the morning sickness, back aches and sleepless nights but throughout her pregnancy worry had been the thing to make her cry and reach an almost breaking point.

Such a thing should never have been possible, it had been the second most frightening moment of her life when she'd found out the reasons for sudden illness, though she'd never discussed what had lead to such a miraculous conception, as she didn't believe in 'discussing unpleasant matters' (A/N take that line however you will, there's no hidden meaning behind it.)

She still had no explanation as to how the pregnancy had even been able to develop, time loops prevented aging and as such she should never have even known she'd conceived but it seemed the world had other plans for the Ymbryne.

Yet, when a gurgling noise broke Alma out of her thoughts and she looked down to see how her baby smiled and blew little bubbles, she knew she didn't need to know how it had happened, not when the result was now the most precious thing in her life.

"Miss Peregrine," A voice called out and the headmistresses head whipped up to see who had spoken, at first Alma's heart rate had doubled and she'd turned her head frantically to the door, to see who stood there, a new type of panic overwhelming her body.

"Oh Miss Bloom, it's only you," Alma spoke taking a deep breath in to settle her nerves, before her daughter gently as the little girl had began to cry from both the new voice and her mother's sudden movements.

"I'm so sorry Miss P, I hope I didn't scare you both," Emma whispered guiltily as she stepped into the room, her head now banging low and her hands fidgeting.

"It's quite alright Emma, no harm done," Alma responded kindly once she'd been able to settle the baby. "What is you needed?" She then asked the blood girl who stood at the foot of her bed.

"Oh we were just wondering how you were both doing," Emma began to say, "I know Claire and Bronwyn are quite eager to meet the littlest peculiar and us older ones were wondering if you'd want anything to eat or drink."

“I’m alright Emma, thank you,” Miss Peregrine said to young blonde who began to walk round to her Headmistresses side.

“She’s so beautiful,” Emma commented in a hushed whisper, “and look she’s got your eyes,” she then said excitedly as the little had opened her eyes ever so slightly, showing off the beautiful blue that lay underneath.

“I suppose she has,” Miss Peregrine whispered giving her daughter a gentle kiss in her forehead and soon after Emma left allowing mother and daughter to have some sleep.

#miss peregrines home for peculiar children #miss peregrine book #miss peregrine movie #miss peregrine imagine #miss peregrines museum of wonders #miss peregrine #miss peregrine x reader #miss peregrines daughter #alma lefay peregrine #eva green #eva green story

[blaceelvi]

Pairing: miss Peregrine x miss Cuckoo

Tags: Hurt/comfort, dialogue, womance, support, romantic, perekoo, problems, friends, lovers, ect.

Briefly: "You know... If it wasn't for you, I don't know what would have happened to me. You always save me when my existence is on the verge, and my condition is close to breakdown".

"We have been saving each other for..."

"A little less than all our lives, yes," the younger Ymbrene barely smiled, which deeply pleased the Cuckoo.

Notes: Hi, it's fic about my fav pair in Peculiar children. I think, that Riggs didn't really opened for us feelings of miss Peregrine. So Isabel is closest person to her, that's why...

Don't be critical, English is not my language, I'm going through learning it. Hope you like it 🌿🌟

You can write your opinion (please) 🌠

"Mr. Portman! This girl is not your concern!" Miss Peregrine screamed.

No one had ever heard her scream like that before. The room became very quiet. Even the street noise coming from outside the window seemed to have stopped.

The headmistress was shaking with anger, but suddenly she seemed to stumble, staggered, but quickly grabbed the windowsill, finding support in it. Bronwyn was about to rush to the directress, but she stopped her with her palm and rubbed her eyes with the other.

"Miss Peregrine, are you okay?"Bronwyn asked anxiously.

"I'm sorry, I haven't slept for many days," the woman said briefly and continued, "For the sake of the common good, sometimes you have to put up with the imperfections of the world," she said. "The safety of one person is nothing compared to the safety of many thousands".

Jake was angry too and didn't want to calm down. And therefore he couldn't come up with anything reasonable, but just blurted out:

"Well, shit!"

Bronwyn gasped. None of the children allowed themselves to speak to Miss Peregrine in such terms.

Miss Peregrine stepped forward. She leaned over his bed.

"Yes, Mr. Portman, it's shit. But when you have to choose between one shit and another, it becomes clear why it's so shitty to be a ruler. And it is for this reason that we do not involve — and will never involve — children in making decisions of national importance".

With these words, the directress abruptly turned around and stormed out of the room, finally slamming the poor door, which made everyone shudder. If Miss Peregrine spoke in such terms, it means that she really lost her nerve.

Alma was soon walking down the corridor, almost breaking into a run, but her limp did not allow this. Unbidden tears blurred her eyes, even though the woman desperately shooed them away. Her vision was blurred, either from moisture or from days of lack of sleep and hunger, and Miss Peregrine had to lean against the wall, but she did not slow down. She herself did not understand where her own feet were taking her, because her office was completely in the other direction. But then suddenly, from around the corner, she bumped into someone and completely lost her bearings in space, and at the same time her support. Therefore, she would have fallen in disgrace now if not for someone's hands that caught her in time. The semi-conscious Alma did not immediately realize who the unknown was, but he threw one of her arms over his neck and grabbed her by the waist, preventing her from falling. That's her, that's what Miss Peregrine saw in her voice.

"Oh, Alma, Alma, what's wrong with you?" exclaimed a voice, and in it the woman recognized Miss Cuckoo, "Okay, okay, everything will be fine now."

Saying this, Isabella slowly led her friend to her room, and concurrently to her office, which, fortunately, was very close. Meanwhile, Miss Peregrine Falcon had already recovered a little to vaguely realize the awkwardness of the situation.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I..." she tried to justify herself in a confused way, "I do not know how it happened..."

To all this, Isabel only replied with her "everything will be fine now."

Nevertheless, they finally reached the office and, entering and slamming the door with her foot, the Cuckoo sat Alma down in an armchair. Slowly, the picture in Alma's eyes gained some clarity, and she immediately saw a glass of burgundy liquid held out to her in front of her. With a somewhat trembling hand, she accepted it and immediately took a small sip. The red wine rolled pleasantly down my throat, meanwhile, it was the first meal of the day.

Isabella plopped down on the next chair and stared at her friend expectantly.

"How are you?"

Alma didn't know how to answer this question correctly at the moment. All the words and thoughts were spinning in my head at once: what Jack had said, the negotiations with Leo Burnham, the endless recorded appeals to Jacob, who had disappeared with her children, all sent to voicemail.

"Why?.. why did they do this to me?.." she spoke between ragged sighs, and for some reason her lips curled, "Am I... am I doing so little?"

Alma felt the warmth of the palm on her own and fixed her eyes full of tears on the woman sitting next to her.

"Don't say that, please," she whispered in her soft, insinuating voice, "Portman has not yet felt how failure can trample him into the mud".

"But he's so young, and he's already been through so much, poor boy..."

"And you, Alma? Have you been thinking about yourself?"

"I told them so much," Ymbryne continued, not noticing the question, "But... for what that risk of yourself and all the other children so much? I sent about a hundred messages and there was no response to any of them, what was I supposed to think? They... they put me to sleep, you know?"

The elder Ymbryne was outraged by such behavior of children. Perhaps Miss Peregrine had done too much for them. For them, she is something permanent, and her nerves are made of iron. She is capable of experiencing anything and finding answers to everything. But it seems that such abilities are not included in her peculiarity.

"I have no idea, dear. You've done an endless amount of good for them, and they've treated you like this. As a common obstacle to their plans. Do you know that they have no idea what all of us, and you in particular, had to do to save their asses?"

Miss Peregrine was a little taken aback by these words and looked up, full of unshed tears, at the Cuckoo's face.

"Yes... yes, you're right. But the most terrible thing is that he carried away the others as well. I thought I had at least some people I could trust".

"You have me. And I'm there already a little less than a lifetime," Isabel reminded.

Peregrine convulsively tipped the remaining wine down her throat and, grimacing and setting aside the empty glass, timidly stretched out her hands. Isabella instantly understood this gesture and hugged the poor woman around her trembling fragile shoulders. Alma felt the silvery short hair tickle her cheek pleasantly, and the salty paths tighten the skin on her face. She burst into tears, she burst into tears like a stupid girl disappointed in people and the world for the first time. It seemed that the actions of many people could warn her against another pain. First of all, her siblings betrayed her way back in the past. But in this sense, Alma was stubborn, especially with regard to her children.

"When will you stop blaming other people's misdeeds on yourself, my dear bird," the Cuckoo seemed to read her thoughts, drawing circles on her back with thin fingers, "It's not your fault that your brothers renounced the weird ones, it's not your fault that Imbrina is supposed to limit children, it's not your fault that Jake disobeyed you and asked others others".

At each "not your fault" Miss Peregrine shuddered harder, but Isabella hugged her even tighter.

"But I could have behaved differently..." Alma tried frailly. That was her last excuse.

"You behave differently too often and adjust to others, Alma. So you can lose yourself," the Cuckoo whispered unobtrusively.

After these words, the Peregrine Falcon gradually calmed down. The trembling passed and became less frequent, the tears soon ended. Alma reluctantly extricated herself from the cozy embrace and looked at the most desirable facial features.

"You know... If it wasn't for you, I don't know what would have happened to me. You always save me when my existence is on the verge, and my condition is close to breakdown".

The elder Ymbryne smiled broadly and warmly. This charming smile has been exciting Alma for ages, however, as well as every line of her face, every gesture and the whole of her.

"We have been saving each other for..."

"A little less than all our lives, yes," the younger Ymbryne barely smiled, which deeply pleased the Cuckoo.

"That's right, and it's very important for both of us".

"But all good things come to an end," sighed Miss Peregrine, "Like this evening, because I have to go..."

"No need, you should stay here. It's about midnight and you're not feeling well," Isabel protested softly.

Alma herself, lulled by that velvety voice and long hugs, did not want to return to her dark office to the table, where reports and papers related to the search for children were still scattered, to the cold bed, which she had not even had time to touch for the last week. The woman winced at the gloominess of the image of her abode.

"Okay, if I don't cause much discomfort. You only have one bed..."

"Oh, it's not as small as it looks," the Cuckoo caught herself.

Under the gaze of another Ymbryne, she spread out the bed and invited her. Peregrine took off her suffocating business clothes with some shyness, remaining in only a chemise. Isabella did the same. It reminded both of their years at Ymbrynes' Academy, when they lived in the same room. How long have they been carrying their friendship. Alma came closer to her friend and looked into the coffee eyes, which turned amber in the dim light of the lamp.

"I remember the years at the Academy".

"It's true," replied the Cuckoo, remembering that even during the first meeting she fell in love with Alma LeFay Peregrine for her emerald eyes even before the first conversation, "It was a glorious time, unforgettable".

They lay down slowly, facing each other. It didn't bother them at all. Even as children, they often escaped from nightmares in this way.

"You're going to have to sleep off a week of sleepless nights, honey. So sweet dreams and good night," the Cuckoo whispered.

"You haven't slept much either. That's why the same goes for you, honey," Alma replied and chuckled softly.

The sound made Isabel's skin crawl. At that, they fell silent and the Peregrine was the first to close her eyes. When she seemed to fall asleep, the Cuckoo lightly touched her pale cheek with her lips. After that, she closed her eyes, falling asleep. And she will not know that Alma felt this touch and smiled imperceptibly, and only then plunged into a pleasant dream without nightmares.

#perekoo #mphfpc #alma peregrine #miss peregrines home for peculiar children #miss peregrine #miss cuckoo #miss Peregrine x miss Cukoo #ransom riggs #music #comfort #hurt/comfort #love #fanfic #Fanfintion

[coffeeanddimlights]

heyyyyy i love your headcanons! could you please do some for Miss Peregrine?

Alma LeFay Peregrine HCs:

-Alma and Isabelle have had a romantic relationship for a long time but kept it hidden due to ymbryne law (also old timey reasons). When they finally decided to tell their wards, all the children were supportive and happy to now have two moms, though some were confused as they thought they didn't need to tell them as it was a given and thought they had already admitted they were together.

-She has multiple journals she's kept throughout her life, all labeled with the year and timeframes on the front. There hasn't been a single day of her life that was undocumented, no matter how mundane (though she did have to fill in a couple days after due to her birdnapping and imprisonment during the first trilogy).

-She loves to sew and to make crocheted crafts. Her favorite craft to crochet are, unsurprisingly, birds. She's tried to crochet all her ymbryne friends in bird form and places them on her windowsill for display. When she misses one of her fellow ymbrynes, she subconsciously is drawn to their crocheted bird and puts it on her writing desk while she journals. Her peregrine and Isabelle's Cuckoo have always been together, beaks facing each other.

-While she was still in the ymbryne academy, she was almost the exact opposite then how she is now. While she was still intelligent and studious as she is now, she was also a big rebel and liked to sneak out and have fun with her equally rebellious peers. She got in trouble a lot and had to make up for her mischief with writings of how she would never do it again, etc. and while writing these she began to discover her love for writing. It was during these years she had her first kiss with Isabelle and they started dating.

-Despite everything, she still loves her brothers deep down. She could never forgive Caul for anything he's done, nor Myron, but she feels they were heavily misguided and regrets not being there for them more while she was studying. She misses them in their youth, before their atrocities, but sleeps well at night knowing their older and more destructive selves are gone.

-When she was selecting her wards, she picked who she saw herself in the most without even knowing it. She sees her rebellious, child self in Enoch; her determined, driven younger teenage attitude in Emma; her intelligent, studious older teenage attitude in Millard, etc. She loves them all as her own, and sees herself more as their mother than their headmistress.

-She taught Millard all he knows about chess, which is why he's an unstoppable force on the chess board.

-She does Claire and Olive's hair every morning as well as pick out their clothes. She often holds Claire like a toddler and carries her around while she does her house chores; Olive sometimes tags along by taking her shoes off and wrapping her arms gently around Alma's shoulders.

#mphfpc #alma lefay peregrine #enoch o'connor #jacob portman #emma bloom #horace somnusson #millard nullings #bronwyn bruntley #claire densmore #fiona frauenfeld #hugh apiston

[another-fantasy-world]

Quarrels

gif isn't mine

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Title: Quarrels

Pairing/s: Alma Peregrine x Fem! Reader (Romantic)

Summary: in which the headmistress's lover causes far more chaos than she should, leading her to discover a certain habit of the ever-elegant Miss Alma LeFay Peregrine.

Warnings: Mentions of being an outcast, …making out…probably

Additional Tags: OOC characters, fluff, so many kisses

Reader Pronouns: She/Her ??? I think????

Word Count: 1814 words

Author’s Note: Oops, it seems that I've gotten rusty with my writing... I apologize.

Taglist: I've been gone for too long that I've gotten shy to tag people :((((

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It was a peaceful day. The sun is shining brightly on the horizon, the sounds of her children playing in the backyard, and the pleasant aroma of tea wafting in the air.

Alma sips her tea as she relaxes back into her seat. It is quite rare for her to have time to think, especially with all the ruckus her children and her lover who acts like a child, made. 

"WHY ARE YOU BEING SUCH A JERK?!" 

Alma perks up as she hears Olive's voice coming from outside, which is then followed by the distinct smell of smoke. Olive never shouts like that unless-

"Well, if you weren't such a bitch, I wouldn't have to take such drastic measures" 

There it is. Olive never shouts so explosively like that unless it was you she’s arguing with.

Alma squeezes her eyes shut, annoyed at the squabbling. As soon as she heard the tearing of clothes, she immediately began to walk toward the escalating argument. 

Shades of green, brown, red, orange, and gray invade her vision as she walks out of the house only to witness you in your lion form, your clothes lay tattered on the grass field as Olive's hand produces stronger flames, creating thicker smoke.

"Enough! Both of you!" She interrupts, weaving her hand through your mane and tugging hard, making you whine as you moved to the direction she’s tugging in order for you to lessen the pain

"All this blabbering and shouting like some vendor on the street is not going to help you understand each other. Besides, how would you argue with Olive if you're in your lion form? All you can do is make noises. And Olive, the fumes from your flames would overwhelm Y/N’s senses! This is irrational and immature. Squawk-" you blinked your eyes in surprise, snapping out of your guilty face as you prance behind Olive to hide your laughing face. 

She only stood beside you and placed her hand on your head, holding you in place, as you both stared down at the small form of your headmistress, your previous argument long forgotten. 

You scoffed out a laugh as the peregrine falcon chittered on as if scolding, her stance imitating that of a human with her hands on her hips. 

“Mi- Miss Peregrine, we- pfft- we can’t understand you” Olive managed to speak in between laughs

She let out an exasperated chirp as she flies over to your fluffy head, settled herself in your fur, and closed her eyes

You huffed as if annoyed and pranced inside the house, sniffing for Emma’s scent, the girl always knew what to do and you always turned to her whenever something peculiar happens

“You truly are fit to be an animal. You should just stay like that forever.”  Olive teased, making you playfully lunge at her, toppling her over and licking her face

You then felt sharp claws digging into your fur, it seems that Alma is still annoyed at you, given the fact that she’s tugging on your fur right now. 

“Olive! Have you seen-” Emma blinked in disbelief, her mouth agape at the sight of you on top of Olive, her red hair inside your mouth while she had her left hand tugging your mane and her right hand pushing your head away. Your tail was swaying from side to side in happiness

“Where is Miss Peregrine when you need her,” Emma mumbled, moving towards the both of you to separate you two.

A loud chirp interrupted Emma, flying over to perch on her shoulder, her gaze piercing the both of you. 

“Sorry Miss Peregrine.” Olive apologized, standing up once your huge paws are off her. 

You nodded along with her, walking towards Emma, nudging her hand. Silently asking her if she can get clothes for you. 

“I’ll take care of Y/N, Olive, Emma. Start working on dinner. I’ll be there shortly.” she then turns to you with a pointed look that made you look at the floor

“I got it.”

“Emma.” Alma’s voice rang out, she was back in her usual pristine state, one hand tucked into her pocket as her other held her pipe. You didn’t even notice her turning back

“Look at me.” She says sternly 

You quickly shifted into your wolf form and looked up to her with puppy eyes

“That’s not gonna work on me, darling. Come.” She says, doing the come hither motion before turning on her heel and walking towards your room. 

You whined, choosing to walk beside her so you could feel her warm hand against your fur, her sharp nails barely scratching the skin under the fur. You tilted your head back, looking up at her. Her lips were wrapped around that pipe of hers, her hands twitching as if itching to have something to fiddle with. You should know, one of them is twitching in your fur. You huffed out a laugh before thumping her with your large bushy tail.

You finally arrived in your room, with Alma twisting the door open, you shifted into your regular, human form, naked. You looked over your shoulder, hoping to get a reaction out of your lover, yet her face remained calm, and void of emotions. You would’ve fallen for it, had you not seen the red tint coating her ears. How cute. 

“You can check your timepiece, darling. You look constipated.” You chuckled, earning you the nth sharp glare this day.

“And you should get clothes on.” She huffed out, pushing you into the bathroom, handing you clothes you didn’t even know she took from your dresser.

You smiled fondly. You met Alma while she was traveling with Emma, the girl being the first peculiar under the newly graduated Ymbryne. You followed them while posing as a stray dog until a bird landed on your head while you were guarding the inn they were staying in. You tried shaking it off, but it just dug its claws in your matted fur, which annoyed you but you couldn’t do anything.

That was if you were a regular dog. You looked around to make sure that no one was around and shifted into your human form, plucking the bird out of your head before shifting back. All of it happened within a minute, you were quite proud of yourself for that. 

Until the bird also shifted into the very woman you had been following for weeks now. She smiled warmly, introducing herself as Alma LeFay Peregrine, a Ymbryne who’s on a journey to gather up peculiar children in order to protect them. You would’ve introduced yourself, had you had time to shift back. She scooped you up in her arms and scolded you as she walked towards the noisy inn. Emma was waiting there, holding a towel with a bright smile. And there you knew, you just knew, that you would be with them, for a very, very long time. Forever, should fate let you.

“Alma~” You cooed, slamming the door open once you’re finished with your little flashback and also with clothing yourself.

“You took longer than you should’ve, are you perhaps not feeling well darling?” She cradles your face into her hands, smoke gets puffed towards your face as you smiled at her affectionately

“I’m actually feeling well. I’m feeling well in love with you.” You grinned, taking one of her hands and pressing your lips to her palm, relishing the way her face slowly turned into a rose

“Cheeky.” She humphed, hiding her face in your chest

“You’re so cute my sweet bird.” You cooed, softly prying her off and staring at her gem-like eyes, which sparkles with happiness and adoration 

Both of you widen your eyes, staring at each other unblinking at first, before giggling like teenagers. 

“I love you”

“I love you” 

“I guess we’re at that stage of our relationship eh?” You touched her nose with yours, still astounded at the sight of her eyelashes, and her eyes which held such adoration. Even after years of seeing her every single day, you still get your breath taken by her beauty. There was no one who could ever surpass your Alma’s elegance and beauty.

“It would seem that way, my love.” She whispered, looping her arms around her neck, pulling you closer until your lips are an inch apart.

“Alma.” You whispered her name, one of your many, many ways to seek permission from the headmistress

“Kiss me.”

And so you did. Oh, how you missed her lips, how you missed her. 

You miss her every second you spend away from her touch, and now that your hands are on her waist, gripping as if afraid that the moment you let go, she’ll vanish like cotton candy submerged in water. Now that her hands tangle themselves into your hair, your hearts are beating in sync as you share these affectionate moments with each other. 

There was nothing sexual about this intense kiss, just pure, unfiltered love and adoration. The kind of love that doesn’t cage, rather it anchors. The kind of love that makes you feel like you’ve suddenly been transferred to space, out of breath, yet oh so satisfied.

Or not. You’ll never be satisfied when it comes to her. You can never get enough of her. Especially when she pulls away. Just like now

You chase after her once she pulls away only for her to place her pointer finger to stop you. You pouted, making her chuckle

“Shh, my love. We have left the children alone for far too long.” She reasons as she faces the mirror you have and fixes her ruined lipstick and hair. 

“Besides, I think I have spoiled you enough for today, cheeky little thing.” She smiles at you before taking a hold of your hand and dragging you out of the room.

You just let out a huff and followed her despite your lingering objections.

“Behave. And maybe you’ll get a reward.” She smirks at you, with an eyebrow quirked up once both of you approached the kitchen

“Out of curiosity, what does behaving entail?” You grinned

She gave you a pointed look before swiftly entering the pleasant-smelling kitchen, with Emma manning it. Alma puts on an apron all the while taking over Emma in stirring whatever it is in the pot.

You shook your head, still smiling as you take the plates that are in Olive’s hands and helped the redhead with setting up the table for supper.

Perhaps you’ll behave for the remainder of today. What’s a few hours of behaving anyway, surely you can do that. You’re not some unruly child after all.

“Whipped.” Olive whispers making your fingers twitch

Behave, Behave, Behave, Beha- fuck it

What Alma doesn’t know, won’t hurt her.

“Y/N!”

You take that back, Alma LeFay Peregrine knows everything.

And maybe that's not such a bad thing.

#alma peregrine x reader #miss peregrine x reader #miss peregrine #miss peregrines home for peculiar children #miss peregrine imagine

[multimilfs]

Alma Peregrine x Fem!Reader: Artificial Permanence

Summary: Anon sent... Alma Peregrine + 9 -- "You need to wake up because I can't do this without you."

AO3

Prompts found here!

A/N: Damn I missed writing for Alma!!

Full Ficmas List

Tag List: @escapetodreamworld @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @multifandomfix @elenaguarnieri @evil-feather @imtrashinflames @nonbinary-cryptid-baby @jojalie @ashpheh

Warning(s): Light body horror

You never intended on becoming a murderer. 

No one comes into the world with the intention of taking lives, but somewhere along the way, a piece of them changes and goes dark. You have spent your whole life trying to avoid a part of you going dark. You didn’t want to take lives, you wanted to save them. 

But it all happened so fast. 

One second you’re preparing a surprise breakfast in the kitchen with Emma and Fiona, the next Millard is calling you from the front door. You turn and rush to the door. Millard never yells, always the picture of the perfect gentleman, sometimes crossing the entire house to deliver simple messages to you. 

If he’s yelling then something is terribly wrong. Were Alma awake already—it’s a fluke she isn’t, but you’d enlisted the children’s help in making her a nice breakfast before she woke—she’d scold him for not using an inside voice. 

“What is it, Millard?” You ask. 

He pushes you towards the door and you step onto the porch. It’s the perfect day, but the breeze from the water makes you shiver, pulling your robe tighter over your nightdress. Seeing the police officer standing on the porch makes you glad you did. 

Your appearance is the least of your worries when you take in the scene. 

The police officer is a gruff, round man, with a permanent scowl etched onto his face. He stands in the center of the porch with Olive and Claire on either side of him. White-knuckled hands grip their shoulders and you stand straighter, fury building at the terrified, pained looks on their faces. 

“Can I help you, Officer?” You ask coldly. 

“Yeah, your wayward freaks set the Pub on fire this morning,” He says, glaring at you, “I need you or the Headmistress to come down to the station.” 

“They’re children, surely you’re not going to arrest them?” 

His grip tightens on the girls and they both wince. Your fist clenches at your side. It’s all you can do to hold in your peculiarity, the air around you thrumming with your own desire to lash out at the man. But you do nothing, too worried you’d hurt the girls in the process. 

You have a good handle on your peculiarity, but when you’re emotional enough, all bets are off. And you can’t claim to be calm at the moment. 

“I can and I will!” He roars. 

“You will not!” You snap back, stepping forward and into his space, “Now unhand my children.” 

There’s a split second where his eyes widen. You wonder what he sees in your face that inspires the fear you see, a twisted glee blossoming amidst your anger. He grasps for words and his grip loosens on Claire and Olive.

Claire tries to pull away, frightened by the raised voices. Her attempt at escape draws the Officer’s attention and he reasserts his grip. When he does, it is like steel as it clamps roughly on Claire, and she lets out a frightened cry. 

You don’t hesitate before spearing the knife in your hand through his chest. 

He gasps and releases the girls. You go to look into his eyes, only to find them gone. His face is seared by red, yellow, and blue markings criss-crossing across his skin. There are dark blue marks under the sockets of his eyes where his skin seared against his cheekbones. A thin, white substance drips down his cheeks. 

You realize with horror that the knife acted as a conduit of your peculiarity—which struck him as lightning this time—and the liquid you're watching drip down his cheeks are what would be his eyes… if they hadn’t exploded from the heat. A shriek leaves your lips and you let go of the Officer. 

His body falls backwards and flops onto the porch steps with a heavy thud. Your eyes are stuck on the knife protruding from his chest, black from the electrical heat. 

“Impressive.” Enoch says behind you. 

Turning slowly, horror settling in your bones as you look into several of the children’s faces, you stare at Enoch. He’s leaning against the doorway with a look of admiration on his face. Your stomach turns. 

“The lightning was a nice touch.” He adds. 

“It really is interesting, Miss. Miss Peregrine never lets us watch.” Olive says sweetly. 

You know Alma is no stranger to taking lives; being an Ymbryne in the current society of peculiars made her well equipped for that, but knowing it interested your children was another thing entirely. Folding your shaking hands in front of you, you force a smile. 

“Children,” You say, voice faltering, “Will one of you keep watch for any other law enforcement? I have to go speak with Miss Peregrine about this.” 

“No you don’t, I know where she usually puts the bodies.” Enoch says. 

He backs up a little when you stare at him and you wonder again how you must look, “Just keep watch, Enoch.” 

All of the children on the porch nod. You slip back into the house and start up the stairs, ignoring Emma’s concerned calls after you, not sure you have the strength now to explain it all to her. Alma would make this all easier. Alma would make this go away. 

Despite that, you can’t help but sitting with the information that you’ve just made yourself a murderer. You lost control and took a life. It makes your stomach turn and you stop in the hall, leaning against the bannister, holding back the bile threatening to rise in your throat. 

Alma is asleep peacefully, wrapped in soft blue sheets. You hate having to wake her like this. 

“Alma,” You whisper, rounding the bed and kneeling at her side, “I need you to wake up—You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” 

One blue eye squints open and you try to smile. Both eyes shoot open when she takes in your appearance; kneeling next to her side of the bed, shaking and on the verge of tears. Her hands grab your face. Her unblinking eyes are running over you, relieved to find nothing wrong, only to widen when she remembers the children. 

“What has happened?” Alma demands. 

She’s out of bed in a flash and wrapping herself in her own robe, talon-like nails ripping through the fabric, though she pays it no mind. When she’s steps from the door, you find your voice again. 

“I killed that police officer.” You admit. 

Alma freezes in place. Slowly, she turns on her heel, eyes piercing you. 

“I beg your pardon?” 

The dam breaks, “I sent the girls into town for a few things and he came back, saying they set the pub on fire, he was so cruel and he made Claire cry and—and then I stabbed him. In the chest. And his eyes exploded!” 

The Ymbryne deflates, coming back to sit on the bed. She pinches the bridge of her nose and sits as you stare at the floor in silent horror. 

You replay the scene in your head. It feels like a blur—you didn’t even remember having the knife in your hand until it was through his heart. Then he was discolored and eyeless. You shudder. Alma gently pulls you up onto the bed to sit next to her. 

“All of the children are alive and well?” She asks. 

You nod. 

“The only one harmed is the officer?” 

You nod again. “I’ll take care of it, darling. He’ll be alive again tomorrow. You’re alright.” 

“I killed someone, Alma.” You whisper. 

“That does happen at times.” Alma says. 

“How can you be so casual about this? I’m a murderer.” 

Alma can’t help it, but a small chuckle leaves her lips. You jerk away. Intent on soothing you, you’re pulled back against her, her lips pressed to your temple in apology. 

The idea of taking a life makes you feel like a monster. Yet, everyone else is unphased, even acting like the whole situation was humorous. You feel like you’ve missed a memo of some kind, especially if the children were unbothered. 

“Darling, you’re not a murderer if your victim is alive the next day,” Alma says, “You protected the children. That’s what matters. Not the cruel officer who will wake up none-the-wiser in a few hours.” 

“I still feel awful about it.” You admit. 

She nods, “That will pass with time. Now, let’s handle this, shall we?” 

Alma stands and offers you her hand. You take it in your own, letting the warmth of her ground you. You also use it to distract you from the twisted amusement on her face. 

You still feel no better about taking a life, but at least you know it isn’t permanent. 

#alma peregrine #alma peregrine x reader #miss peregrine #miss peregrines home for peculiar children #miss peregrines home for peculiar children x reader #mphfpc #miss peregrine imagine #miss peregrine x reader #miss peregrines home for peculiar children imagine #wlw #wlw imagine #dec2022 #multimilfswritings #multimilfsficmas2022

[peach-and-bugs]

🪶Alma LeFay Peregrine SFW Alphabet🪶

Fanfiction master list

disclaimer: don't repost my work. I only post on Tumblr and on Ao3. anything else is stolen and should be removed immediately

Warnings: very mind angst but nothing serious

Word Count: 3,185

A/N: well, it's been a minute. I'll be honest, I haven't been writing much, but I want to. so I thought I'd fill out some safe-for-work alphabets as well as some NSFW alphabets and honestly, it's pretty fun! it's helped me to characterize some of the characters I work with to my liking and even inspires some longer fic ideas.

but here we have Alma, who's actually been my number-one comfort character for a while now. I'm surprised I haven't written for her yet. but now I've got some ideas based on this, so we'll see what comes of it! As always, feel free to leave questions or comments in my comments or ask box, and happy reading!🪶

Alma LeFay Peregrine Tag List:

General Tag List: @summergeezburr

-🪶-

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Alma isn't the most visibly affectionate, but that doesn't mean that she isn’t affectionate. She’s just more subtle about it. She doesn’t do anything very visible in front of the children, not because she’s ashamed of you or your relationship, but rather because she doesn’t want to deal with all of the giggling, gossip, and dramatics that’s sure to follow whenever the little ones see any form of PDA. And the children are well aware of your relationship status and view you as a second parental figure. Alma prefers to take your hand on walks and lean against your shoulder, kiss your knuckles or your cheek when the children and spend quality time together cooking dinner.

But when you get your alone time, she’s all over you. Quality time and physical touch are her preferred ways of feeling loved by you. If she’s reading with you in bed, she’d going to be leaning against you and she’d be quite clingy in her sleep.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

You’d initially be colleges, but you were also former students at the academy together. You probably weren't friends in your younger years, but you definitely knew each other well enough and got along amicably. When you were sent to assist in Alma’s loop, she would have had some trouble adjusting as the implication she needed help would be mildly insulting, but eventually, you grew on her and she’d come to enjoy your company, even seeking it out when she got a moment to herself while the children where occupied.

Your friendship again would be quiet, starting as simply enjoying being in the same space as one another, but it would slowly turn into a conversation, which blooms into a warm friendship.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Alma is quite touchy when you're alone. She loved curling up in bed with you after a long day of caring for the kids, and she’s quite fond of skin-to-skin contact. I imagine she also gets cold easily and loves curling up under thick blankets with her partner to keep warm. But don’t let the children see- they wouldn’t be able to stop talking about seeing their headmistress so soft for weeks!

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Alma is quite fond of domesticity, given that her job is being a caregiver and raising the “young” of her species. She loves cooking and often makes quite extravagant meals, but isn’t the fondest of cleaning. But that’s alright! She can always ask you or one of the children to do that if she feels inclined. She loves her duties, but still values the time to herself to read the mail or catch up on a new book when she can.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Alma would already be so particular about her partner, it’s hard to imagine she’d start a relationship with someone who she could see herself breaking up with. I think the only instance would be to protect you and/or her children. If she knows something is on its way to harm you, and sending you away is the only thing that will keep you safe, she knows breaking things off will be the only way you’ll leave the island.

She’d be gentle, but firm, and oh how it would hurt. It would hurt her the entire time, but she wouldn’t show it. Not till she knows you’re gone and she’s out of sight of prying eyes.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quickly would they want to get married?)

I don't think a formal ceremony or any kind of paperwork would be necessary as long as you promise that she’s yours and you're hers. I think she’d like a ring, but again, it wouldn’t be a priority. It would take some time though before she got to that point.

Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if one day she just started calling you her wife/husband/spouse without any kind of forewarning, as though that’s how she’d always referred to you. When asked why she’d shrug and just say that it felt right and she liked it

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Despite her rather quick, birdlike mannerisms, Alma is incredibly gentle, mostly because she works with children, but also because she cares. Gentleness is quite surprising, but the tenderness that comes with it is perfect. She holds you like your glass that will shatter at her touch, and you often have to remind her that you won’t break.

Emotionally, Alma puts up a good front, and for the most part, she’s quite tolerant. It takes a lot to hurt Alma, but when she is hurt, the recovery takes time. In that instant, she shuts down and throws herself into her work, ignoring any and all things that have wounded her.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

She loves hugs from her children, especially when the little ones wrap their arms wound her knees and squeeze as hard as they can. But her hugs with her kids and with you are two very different things. Hugs with the kids are soft and fun, often lifts them off the ground to make them laugh as much as she can.

But with you, hugs can be rarer and when you get one, they’re consuming and holding like she’s trying to make sure you’re all there. Often you have to squeeze her tighter, making sure she knows she’s got you and you aren't going to disappear from between her hands. You've found that resting your head on her shoulder and kissing her neck help relax her once more when she gets this way.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Much like when she starts calling you her wife/husband/spouse, it's offhand and without warning, like she hasn’t thought about it. She doesn’t vocalize this kind of affection often, preferring to show rather than tell. But it’s so nice when she does say it.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Alma doesn't think she’s the jealous type, because what does she have to be jealous about? She’s confident in her relationship and your loyalty to one another, after all. (right?) the Ymbryne would never admit it, not even to herself, but she is definitely the jealous type. Not because she thinks you’ll leave her for someone else, but because she worries she doesn’t give you as much as you deserve, and maybe she’d keeping you from someone who can do better than she can.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Besides your lips, because we know she loves those, Alma loves kissing your forehead/hairline, your palm, and knuckles as well as your jaw, but that’s only when she knows no one’s looking.

On her, she loves when you give her quick kisses on the cheek before running off with the children, though she won't let you know that. But she also adores it when you kiss her fingertips and her collarbones during more intimate settings. She also loves when you kiss the bridge of her nose.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Obviously, she’s good with kids. That’s her whole job after all. She’s rather strict, but she’s got that warm and soft part of her that’s actually quite closer to the surface than you might imagine. She keeps every little drawing or gift that the children give her, tucked away in your bedroom for safekeeping.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Alma’s definitely the early bird, which you love to tease her about. But when she has the time she loves staying in bed, wrapped up in warm sheets with you. She loves the sleepy look on your face when you wake up to her staring, again. And she loves it when you absently stretch out as you wake up, but cling to her skin. Lazy mornings, though thin and far between, are some of the most treasured memories that she has with you

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Alma loves ending her evenings with a nice warm bath (sometimes together), a cup of tea, and reading a good book. Sometimes, she reads out loud to you, mostly when either of you can't sleep. She often falls asleep after you. She likes watching your slow breathing for a moment before also nodding off.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Like most other interactions, Alma reveals facts about herself seemingly out of nowhere, though it's still at relevant times. To you, it's a surprise, but to her, she’s been thinking about telling you and now just feels like the right time. At some point, you get used to her intermittent fun facts popping up in conversation, but it's quite a shock at first.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

She’s built up a really good tolerance for most things since she’s a mother, so she doesn't get mad very often. But she can get annoyed, which might as well be just as bad. You used to annoy her quite often when you first were getting to know each other (in reality she was growing to like you and she panicked, which caused her to purposely avoid you, which is something she also does when she’s annoyed, but she won't tell you that).

Over time she’s gotten much better at communication and telling her how you feel if she happens to get irritated with something. She’s quite surprised when you work to accommodate these feelings, which you tell her she shouldn't be, since that’s your job as partners, and you do the same with her if you're the one annoyed.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget everything?)

Alma remembers absolutely everything you tell her. She even goes as far as to write it all down in her diary. With every day being the same, any new bit of information is worth holding onto.

She left her diary open to a page dedicated to little tidbits all about you out on her stationary once when you were tidying her room (before you were officially anything) and when she walked in the room and caught you reading you were both quite embarrassed for different reasons. You thought she would be upset with you invading her privacy and reading the book, which you profusely apologized for, but she was worried you'd find it strange she had been writing down nearly everything she’d learned about you in the first place. She relaxed significantly when you sheepishly admitted you found it quite flattering.

Sometimes before bed, Alma reads through her diary. Not to remember or memorize, necessarily, but more to mull over the past and think of how much everyone in her little family has grown.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Alma’s favorite memory of you diffidently hadn’t been her favorite at the moment, but she’d grown exceedingly fond of it nowadays.

It was shortly after you'd moved in, maybe three or four months give or take, and before the loop had been initially set. It was also before you'd really started getting to know one another, so you were still practically strangers. But by then the children already loved you and were all over you practically every hour of the day. Alma always worried you'd have enough of it and snap at one of the younger kids for their clingy behavior, but that never seemed to be the case.

She’d been walking through the house, making sure she had tabs on every child in case of any accident when she passed by the study. She first noticed that the thick velvet curtains had been opened up, letting in a warm afternoon light that basked over the couch. Further inspection found you basking on said couch with a book in hand and three children curled up in your lap. The twins had cuddled up together on the farther and by your feet, while Claire lie across your chest, snoring ever so softly with her head nuzzled right under your chin. As you flipped through your book, your free hand gently stroked through her curly blonde hair. Alma knew the girl loved this kind of tender affection, but she was always afraid that her second mouth would accidentally bite anyone who dare touch her hair, so she ignored the desire. Despite not giving the action your full attention, you were so mindful to keep away from the mouth, which was actively drooling as Claire slept.

It was the tenderness of the scene that made Alma realize her fondness for having you around. And while the admission had been only hers, she panicked, rushing to leave the view behind and busy herself with a new activity to push down whatever the fuzzy feeling in her chest might be.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Your wife is extremely protective of you and your children, just like any Peregrin would be with her nest. She demonstrates this when she leaves with Barron, no questions asked, or when her brothers “come into town”. You constantly scold her for her recklessness, almost calling her eager for danger. She scoffs at the notion, but deep down knows that you are right about it. A part of her craves danger, the thrill of adrenalin, but she tells herself that it's because she’d rather it be her you or the children.

Alma insists that she doesn't need you protecting her, but she does. Not physically, that is, but emotionally. You are her rock, whether she likes it or not, and it's you who will take on the “chore” of caring for her, as she would put it. But you don't mind. You tell her that you'd never mind if it's for her. She does her best to believe you, and over time she does.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, and everyday tasks?)

Special occasions like date night and anniversaries can be tricky since proper alone time can be challenging, and given the situation of the time loop, there's always the chance of forgetting what day it actually is. But that’s alright with both of you. You've come to enjoy stolen time together rather than grand gestures.

However, if you do have a date night or evening alone, it’s generally thanks to your older kids taking the littles out for an “adventure”. Alma insists that it’s embarrassing, but you've both grown quite fond of your evenings alone. It's definitely helped your relationship in the long run and the kids seem to enjoy going off on their own for a few hours. You like to think it makes them feel grown up for a while.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

She tried her best not to have many “bad habits” and if she did have any she wouldn’t admit it, but you know her worst habit is not verbalizing what she wants. She’ll go for a day not asking for a simple thing, then get frustrated when it doesn't happen. You try your best to get her talking, but she insists that she's fine. It could be as simple as wanting a chore done, or bigger, like asking for your presence or attention.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Despite only seeing the same people every day, Alma is very pristine when it comes to her appearance. You joke that it’s the bird part of her, always keen to preen both her hair and feathers. She scoffed at this idea but nevertheless, you insist on your theory. Alma says that she just likes things to be on schedule and the same.

However, she’s willing to let her hair down (literally and metaphorically) with you. She loves it when you help wash her hair or take the pins out for her. The feeling of your nails scratching at her scalp is exacerbating and does something to her every time.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Absolutely. While she has her children, you fill an extra space that she didn’t realize was empty till you filled it. Now, the thought of losing you would eat her alive and she wouldn’t know what to do with herself.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Similar to when you own a pet, you find feathers stuck almost everywhere. Mostly they’re little fuzzy ones that stick to your clothes or sheets, but sometimes you find them in your hair or sticking out of your pillows. It's not because Alma turns into a bird or anything in her sleep, but sometimes she has leftover baby feathers from when she does transform that she forgets to preen, as she likes to say.

This also sometimes happens when she dreams. She’ll go to sleep featherless, but wake up from a dream with baby feathers sprouting from her hairline and along her shoulder blades. She detests it and generally has a “grumpy morning” as the children like to whisper, but you find it charming and always offer to help her pluck and preen the spots she can't reach.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

She can't stand it when the children try asking one parent a question only to ask the other the same thing when they don't get the answer they want. She knows if she tells a child no, they’ll go right to you with no hesitation in hopes of a yes. And it isn’t your fault, but you don't notice this game they play and will give them the answer they want with the right kind of begging. It makes her quite cross to learn that her kids would stoop that low. You all know that you can’t say no to their sweet faces.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Rather than just lying under a blanket, Alma loves to be completely wrapped up in your sheets, almost like a cocoon. The night doesn't start out that way, but when you wake up together you are almost always tangled and covered up, unable to see your room til you find your way out of the nest of blankets youve been stuffed into.

#sfw alphabet #alma lefay peregrine x reader #alma lefay peregrine #miss peregrine x reader #character alphabet #comfort character #headcanon

[thehomeofplatonicfics]

As It Used to Be

Bone-mender!Reader x Miss Peregrine (platonic!)

Everyone was sat around the dinner table, just as it used to be before. Everything was as it used to be, it was safe once more. Your fellow peculiars, your family, were laughing and joking… Jacob made a wonderful addition by bringing in some fresh conversation. And yet, you sat back in your chair staring at your plate, not engaging with anyone at all. You couldn’t stop the feeling of dread creeping over your bones.

A particularly loud laugh from Emma shook you from your daze, and you forced a smile on your face as you brought your focus back to your family. You thought no one had noticed your lapse in attention, but you had failed to notice the beady eyes of Miss Peregrine watching you curiously. She decided to keep a close eye on you until the reset.

After dinner, everyone watched Horace’s latest dream… everyone except you, that is. While everyone crowded around the sofa, you hovered behind your makeshift family like a guard dog, pacing the floor. Olive and Fiona noticed and frowned to each other, before returning their attention to Horace’s dream. Miss Peregrine, however, was growing increasingly concerned by your behaviour. She was about to pull you aside to find out what was wrong, when Horace’s dream ended and the children all began getting ready for the reset.

The headmistress was determined to get to the bottom of it after she maintained the loop. However, the younger children commanded her attention until they went to bed. She noticed your door was closed, suggesting you were in bed. So, she walked past your room with a small shake of her head, not satisfied that she’d have to wait until the morning to confront you.

You were still awake, however. Staring up at the ceiling, you tried to calm your racing mind down, to quieten all your thoughts. There was still that foreboding sense of fear, that something was going to happen again, you just couldn’t shake it.

It was not until the early hours of the morning that you managed to fall asleep, though you would not remain so for very long. You began to dream that the Wight and his hollowgast had come back. They grabbed Claire and Hugh and you heard a sickening crunch as the hollow broke their bones in an attempt to grab their eyes. You ran towards them, trying to touch them and use your peculiarity as a bone-mender to heal them both. But you were too late. You had failed to save them.

You woke up with a scream as your body involuntarily launched itself upright. Loud, shuddering breaths echoed in the room as you frantically searched your surroundings. Realising where you were, and knowing you’d had yet another nightmare, you slumped against the wall in defeat, allowing yourself to cry.

A few seconds later, you heard rushed footsteps heading towards you. In anticipation you turned your head towards the door, the relief of seeing Miss Peregrine rush in making you cry even more. “Oh, little one…” The headmistress muttered as she sat on the edge of your bed, reaching her hand out to rest on your shoulder. You launched yourself towards her, clinging onto your mentor in as a tight a hug as you could manage. After the initial shock Miss Peregrine returned the hug, smoothing down your hair as she gently shushed you.

“You had a nightmare, Y/N?” You nodded, sniffing as you tried to wipe your tears away. “I’m guessing this isn’t the first time, is it?” Miss Peregrine asked, though she already knew the answer. “No, it’s not.” You whispered, turning your gaze away from her.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” The headmistress asked, her hand softly clasping yours. “I didn’t think it was important.” You replied defensively, continuing to avoid eye contact. “Well, now that I’m here, would you like to tell me about these dreams?” Finally you raised your gaze to look at the Ymbryne, hesitating for a moment before deciding to give in.

“Its about the… the Wight. And the hollow.” You began, shuddering at the mere mention of them. “They keep hurting the others, my family. And I try to heal them, try to save them… but I’m always too late. I never make in time, I always fail to save them.” You struggled to maintain composure as you looked up into Miss Peregrine’s concerned gaze. “I have to protect them! I won’t let anything hurt them!” You felt yourself being pulled into another hug and you made no effort to resist, Miss Peregrine softly shushing you once again.

“I know you won’t, Y/N. You already do a wonderful job, and we are lucky to have a bone-mender with us.” Miss Peregrine pulled back, cupping your face gently, her thumb gently brushing your cheek. “But you don’t need to be on guard all the time. We are safe here, our adventure has passed. I hope to not need to return to battle for a long, long time.”

You nodded slowly, trying to take the words in, wanting to believe them to be true. “Why don’t we go downstairs and I’ll make you some nice soothing tea.” Miss Peregrine offered gently, standing up and offering her hand to you. “Thank you.” You whispered, pushing back the covers and climbing out of bed to join her. Her arm wrapped around you like a wing, and together the two of you spent a quiet early morning. You were safe, just like you used to be.

#mphfpc reader insert #mphfpc imagine #miss peregrine x reader #miss peregrine imagine #miss peregrines home for peculiar children #platonic reader insert

[safic4-m]

💙I am Catrina

Pairing: Alma Lefay Peregrine x Fem Lector

Author’s Note: I wanted my first Peregrine work to be different, but not than doing something with Day of the Dead and the MPHFPC universe.

Now, I decided not to go into too much detail about the altar and all that needs to be done for the day of the dead as it’s a very lengthy topic. When T/n is with Peregrine he adopted a human form.

Number of words: 984

~Master list~

One-shot

Wattpad

You get off your steed leaving behind marigold petals with every step you take, you were here for him, to guide him to the beyond.

-It’s time,- you say, placing your hand on his shoulder.

-Who are you?- asks the young man, frightened by your presence.

-I am Catrina, I am here to guide you to the beyond.

-But, I can’t leave my sister behind.

-I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do,- giving him a smile.

-Please, I can’t leave her alone,- she pleads looking at you with her eyes full of tears.

-I will take care of her, I promise,- extending your hand.

He hesitates for a moment, turning to see the house on fire before the closing of the loop, he takes your hand, making the marigold leaves form an arch of flowers.

You help him across the arch to the afterlife, for years Victor had been tied to his loop, but the closing of the loop frees him from the place.

- - - - -

You had kept your promise to care for his sister, in time you learned her name “Bronwyn”, you comforted her during the nights while her brother counted the days to see her again.

-But I have to ask Miss Peregrine,- said the girl a little discouraged.

-I’ll take care of her,- returning the smile to her face, -but you have to make sure all the things she likes are there.

With them the girl runs off in search of the materials.

-It’s a pleasure, Miss Peregrine,- turning to look at the bird in the tree.

It flies out of the tree into its human form

-Who are you?- asks the headmistress looking at you from head to toe.

-Y/n,- you introduce yourself with a small bow.

-And what are you doing here, Miss Y/n?

-All in due course Miss Peregrine.

You start walking towards the house leaving a petal junk, the ymbryne is taken aback at this and follows you into the house, finding her children gathered in the living room with you in the middle.

-What’s going on here?

-We’re getting ready for tonight,- you answer as if it were obvious.

-Miss Peregrine, she said she would bring Victor back,- Claire says enthusiastically.

-For one night,- you emphasize, arranging things.

The ymbryne approaches to see some kind of offering in her living room.

-Altars are made to give an offering to our loved ones, in it we put a cross, candles, flowers, incense and a picture of our loved one, as well as their favorite food,- you explain turning your back to the woman.

-I have the picture,- Bronwyn arrives handing you the picture.

-Thank you,- placing it on the highest level.

-I can take care of the flowers,- offers Fiona.

-Here you go, honey,- handing her the seeds.

-I have some candles,- says Emma taking Jake by the arm to go get them.

-I think I have a cross,- comments Enoch.

-I’d really appreciate it,- watching Olive leave with him.

Each child gets a task while you take care of putting everything in place, Peregrine can only watch how her children work together to form the altar, Alma offers you her help to finish faster, honestly she is not sure if this will work but it doesn’t cost her anything to try.

-It’s ready,- says Bronwyn admiring her brother’s altar.

-There is still something missing,- you say, making a path of marigold petals and candles appear at the entrance, -this will help illuminate his path

-What now?- asks Hugh.

-We just have to wait until midnight, but you should get ready for dinner time.

It didn’t take long for all the children to leave to get ready, Alma was planning to ask if you would join them for dinner, but when she turned around she was gone. Dinner went on as normal, at the time of the movie, at the beginning it was normal, but then the image changed to that of a woman wearing a beautiful red dress, with marigold flowers and a big hat with candles.

The children didn’t want to go to sleep but after having promised to wake them up when it was time Peregrine managed to make them sleep for a while, the ymbryne was in the living room contemplating the altar, she had always felt guilty for Victor’s death, for not having protected him.

-None of this is your fault,- you say behind her, scaring the woman.

-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, but I couldn’t help but see how you feel,- taking a seat next to her.

-It’s my job to protect the children and I couldn’t do it,- she says angrily.

-But you can’t, even if you have the possibility to turn back time you will never be able to save him-, in a serious tone, -the best thing you can do is to take care of his sister

-I’d better go wake him up,- he says trying to get out of the situation.

You stand there in front of the altar and start praying for Victor’s soul, with each mystery you said you felt his presence stronger, the boy was impatient to see his sister. When souls travel from the beyond to visit us we cannot see them but you would have to help him so that she could see him. When all the children came downstairs and you were finishing the last mystery, Victor appeared in front of them, making everyone’s eyes fill with tears, Bronwyn tried to hug her brother but ended up piercing him.

-You can’t touch him honey, his soul is here but not his body,- you notice the pain in the girl’s eyes and you decide to take a chance with the following, -but maybe I can do something.

A swirl of flower petals forms around you, scaring everything but Victor, when it dissipates a woman appears with a long red dress with flowers and a big hat with candles. Everyone is amazed at the sight of the woman, who even with her skull-like appearance is still beautiful.

-Enjoy your family,- you tell the boy, touching his shoulder, before disappearing and leaving behind marigold petals.

#miss peregrine's home for peculiar children #mphfpc #alma peregrine #alma lefay peregrine #alma peregrine x reader #alma x reader #eva green #eva green x reader

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

William with an s/o who is a witch and a headmistress of an orphanage (imagine someone like a mix between Mary Poppins and Miss Peregrine, if you're familiar with characters?!)

I'm not too familiar with Miss Peregrine, but I do know Mary Poppins, so I hope I got the general vibes right!

also...... Will.......... baby...............

Well, she truly is a light unto the world where others might just walk past the darkness. What else can he do but admire her? The truth is, considering his background and the line of work he’s in, he’s gotten very used to seeing the world in general as a bleak place. It’s difficult for him to see the patches of hope and kindness; he’s almost become convinced that those things don’t even exist. Then, there’s… her. She’s practically restored his faith in the goodness of others, singlehandedly. When he finally gets a break from his work, he goes to the orphanage to spend as much time as he can with her, and it just makes his heart soften to watch her taking care of the children. These little waifs from the street who have no parents, no home, potentially disabled, and she treats them like she’s known them all their lives. He’s not sure whether any of them know the truth about what she is, but as far as he’s concerned, it doesn’t really matter. She takes good care of them. Regardless of whether or not she uses her magic to do so, she is a force for positive change in the world. He appreciates that she can be strict sometimes… only when she needs to be. It means she understands the need for order just as well as she understands the need for freedom. When he’s sitting at the orphanage with a child having fallen asleep in his lap as (Name) has been reading a bedtime story, and she takes them from him, using her magic to open the door and put them to bed, it doesn’t feel like more work after an already long day. It feels more like this is where he’s supposed to be, and he’s silently grateful that someone like her has decided she wants to be with him.

#Black Butler #Kuroshitsuji #William #William T. Spears #reaction #romantic #fluff #domestic #aaaaaAAAAAAA #crying screaming kicking my legs- #one hell of a queue

[milfswriter]

Unexpected Guest

Alma Lefay Peregrine x OC!Jaime Walsh

Summary: Jake scared the children at the bombed house, he gets dealt with and reveals terrible news.

Notes and warnings: it’s my first time writing with an OC, go easy on me lol. Hurt/comfort. SEND REQUESTS FOR MY BABY ALMA OR ELSE

Alma sat at the breakfast table, waiting for Jaime to finally show up. It’s become a habit of them, waiting for the other to arrive before eating, though the children were already halfway done with their food. 

Jaime rushed down the stairs, knowing how Alma always fusses about time management. “Morning, children!” she chanted, her black trousers and satin white shirt hugging her frame perfectly. “Good morning, Jaime!” they chanted back. 

Alma offered a soft smile as her wife kissed her cheek. “hello, love”.

They heard the door shut and the panting of Emma, Olive and Millard, like they’ve been running from someone. “If it’s the police again, Millard you better deal with it yourself or so help me bird!” Jaime warned as she sat next to Alma, facing the empty seat of Millard, and beginning to eat.

“no..it’s..it’s not the police” Emma said, catching her breath, “It’s a boy..he..I found him in the old house and thought it was Abe but then he turned and..it was not him. He kept following me before I managed to get away” Alma had a weird look on her face, and god does Jaime hate it when she hides things from her.  

“Where’d you leave him?” She asked the three children standing in front of her as though they were being interrogated. “Just outside the loop entrance” She stood up from the table, hearing her wife’s warnings echo behind her. 

“Think twice before doing anything!” She grabbed a knife and a pistol, pocketing them before giving Emma a rope to hold.

“Damn it, it’s thundering!” Enoch groaned. Jaime’s peculiarity was weather manipulation, and the weather changes based on her mood. So whenever Jaime was grumpy, they couldn’t go outside or they’ll get struck by lightning. “language!” Alma scolded before Jaime opened the front door, taking a deep breath so she can calm down and stop the thunder. 

“oh, Jaime what if it’s a wight?” Emma gulped behind the older woman. “Why’d you think I brought a gun?”.

They kept walking, looking around just in case the boy got in the loop and Jaime kept her hand in her pocket around the gun as we walked and Emma gulped. “Stop fussing, we’ll either kill him or scare him off” Millard said.

As they left the loop, they saw the same boy lurking around the loop entrance. “that’s him!” Emma whispered and Jaime hummed, using wind to distract him while she took out her gun, walking to him swiftly before she pulled his hair back and aimed at his temple.

 “Scream and I’ll blow your brains to pieces!” she pushed him hard against a tree and he groaned, breathing faster.

Jaime turned him around to face him, gun still pointing at him confidently as she stared with a tilted head. “What are you?” she hissed.

“An-uh, I’m an american” he stammered, “I’m Jacob” Jaime came closer, pressing the gun on his forehead. “Do NOT fuck with me, asshole. What were you doing in that house? Why were you chasing my ward?” 

“I just wanted to talk to her! Don’t kill me!”. She fixed him with a scowl, “about what?”

“About the house, the people who lived there” she clicked the safety, making him whimper. “Who sent you here?”

“My..my grandfather, Abraham Portman” her lips parted in surprise, looking back at Emma for a second who gasped lightly.

“Liar! You think I don’t know what you are? I wasn't born yesterday. Open your eyes!” 

“These are my eyes!! I can prove it!”. Her hand relaxed a bit. “Then prove it, or I’ll water the grass with your blood”

He reached into his pocket with the gun aimed at his hand. “This letter’s part of the reason I came here. It’s from The Bird, it’s what you call your headmistress isn’t it?” She pulled the letter out of his hand and pushed him against the tree again, making him groan in pain.

“It’s you, miss peregrine and my grandpa before he want to war!” he exclaimed as Jaime stared at the picture. “You’re..you’re Jaime, aren’t you?” she rolled her eyes, holding her hand out to Emma to give her the rope and tied his hands.

“Okay, now you’re my prisoner, do as I say or you’ll regret it” Jaime pulled him by the arm and entered the loop again. As they neared the front door, Jaime sighed at his appearance and told Emma to check where Alma is.

“His shoes are caked with filth. Can’t have you tracking in mud, Bird will have an attack” she tutted and he took off his shoes, walking in the house. he gaped as he looked around the house, unable to believe it was the same house as the bombed one outside the loop.

 “Miss Peregrine’s in the living room” Millard said and Jaime took him there. Alma waited a second to look up as she sewed but gasped a few seconds after she registered who he was, somehow recognizing him.

 “Jaime! What on earth did you do to the poor boy!” The younger woman scoffed, not believing what she was being asked.

 “Oh, please, Alma! He was following the girls! What was I supposed to think?” she pushed him further into the room and he almost tripped.

“Stop!” she warned as she stood up. “You’ll have to pardon Miss Walsh. She has a certain flair for dramatics” he nodded. “Yeah I figured” he scoffed, looking back at Jaime. 

“Watch your damn tone” she growled, another thunder roaring outside and Alma turned. “Jaime, I’m warning you” she looked away, causing Alma to start introducing herself. “My name is Miss Peregrine, and as you already know, this is Jaime” she extended her hand and only when he failed to shake it did she notice the rope. 

“Miss Walsh! Untie him at once! Is that how you treat a guest?!” Jaime looked baffled.

“First, I’ll pretend you did not just call me that. Second, he’s a liar and a-” she raised her hand. “Jaime..”.

She sighed, flashing her blade and going behind him to cut the rope and he shook Miss Peregrine’s hand. 

Jaime was quiet until Jake brought up Abe. “He told me to come find you, to warn you about..the monsters” she scoffed, throwing her hands in the air.

“And why would he do that? Why can’t HE come and warn us himself, has he grown too old to go potty? I warned him about the outside, time and time again, I knew-” Alma yelled as she interrupted her.

“He’s dead, Jaime!” she gaped, looking at her wife with wide eyes. “He’s dead” Alma nodded, and that’s what finally shut her up for good, she gulped before walking backwards a few steps and turning to leave the room and a few seconds later, they heard the front door slammed shut. This cannot be true, no.

Alma sighed, “I’m so sorry for your loss, Jake” she offered him a sympathetic smile before looking out the window as the thunder intensified, Jaime soaked with the rain as she looked up at the sky. “That’s her...ability, isn’t it?” Jake asked, now feeling a little guilty.

Miss Peregrine nodded, sighing. “She’s quite...protective. Especially when it comes to the safety of the children. Abe hurt her more than she liked to admit when he left”.

------

The next time they saw Jaime was in the garden, helping Emma put the squirrel back in place before walking away somewhere else. Alma waited a few minutes before deciding to follow her wife inside the house, hearing sobs coming from the kitchen. 

She stopped at the doorway, looking at Jaime who was hunching against the kitchen counter, sobs racking her body. She couldn’t remember the last time she heard Jaime cry like this. Mainly because the same day is repeating over and over again so the day would be predictable. Well..except when Victor died. 

Alma approached her wife gently, placing a hand over the small of her back, startling her. “Love” she called, causing the short-haired woman to look at her, eyes red.

“I’m sorry for the way I laid the news on you..I-” she shook her head. “It’s..It’s fine, it was bound to happen anyway..but I can’t help but feel like shit. First Victor, and now Abe” her lips trembled before she broke down again.

Alma let a few tears escape before wiping both of their eyes, kissing her lips softly before hugging Jaime close to her. A clearing of throat startled them and they looked to see Enoch standing there sheepishly. 

“The police are here again” Jaime and Alma couldn’t help but laugh, though the police came everyday for the past 70 years

“We’ll be right there”

Taglist:

@mmemalwa @ara-a-bird

#alma peregrine #Alma peregrine x reader #miss peregrine x reader #eva green x reader #eva greeen #miss peregrine's home for peculiar children #mphfpc x reader

[cowshampoo]

Have you had any interesting dreams lately?

Yeah actually. When I was napping earlier I dreamt up an entirely new book of Miss Peregrines with mostly new characters. The two I remember most were these two drag kings (they did not realize being transgender was a thing but it was implied that they both ID as male), one from France with brown hair and another from Denmark who looked alot like Crusher from Epithet Erased. They had a third drag king friend but I never saw him and I forgot where he's from.

There was also this cool anime intro sequence kinda? We lived on a big hill on an uninhabited island save for us, I think. I was sort of a headmistress in training and I don't thing the actual headmistress knew I was actually a boy because I looked very Dainty and Pretty and I wore a dress.

Also, (this is not part of the dream), but when my mom went house hunting while I was in high school, I had a dream about one of the potential houses - three bathrooms and a very confusing layout - and that house I dreamed about years ago was the house in my dream today! Although in today's dream it also had some elements of a cabin from a camp I used to go to.

The only other thing I remember is that the headmistress had to go away for a bit so she left me in charge which I didn't really like because the kids were MESSY. And also the french drag king kept flirting with me the whole time. And someone made a gay joke about Enoch (positively, not in a negative way).

#ttstfu.txt #ask #eh ill tag this as #mphfpc #cause i know that tag is bascially dead these days #here take some scraps of not-really-content #also im taking nyquil tonight so i'll let you know if i have more dreams #i wanna continue this one and know more about those drag kings #at one point they broke out of jail or something?