Multi-Fandom One Shots

Delighted to Keep You (Dark Alma Peregrine)

Request: I have a request idea of a relationship between fem!R and dark!movie!Miss Peregrine ... emphasis on dark... Reader is a fresh(ish) peculiar in her home, someone who Miss Peregrine has already become attached to and loves. However, R is quite independent and kind of detests her protection and care - perhaps because of past relationships or issues - which Miss P seems so insistent on providing. (There's a mutual dislike for each other: R at Miss P for her motherly nature and Miss P at R for rejecting this). So R sets out to leave the loop as soon as possible without telling anybody - maybe during a time she knows miss peregrine will be busy/occupied. However, Miss P being the all-knowing and attentive woman that she is, senses something is off and excuses herself to go out and seek R. She finds R on their way to the cairn manipulation ensues and Miss P has her not-so-moral methods to get R back to where she belongs. But R will not come easily!! I feel it'd be cool to control metal. Perhaps lock doors without a key melt or solidify metal, shape it into weapons we could move Alma's stopwatch. I feel it takes a lot of concentration - so a mind clouded with fear or anger or intense emotions may hinder the ability?

The sun shone bright every day. It wasn't until after sunset that rain clouds gathered and it was only on the night of September 3rd. Once the night reset, it was cool enough for wet hair to give someone a cold. And since it had rained, they were all ushered inside. Every day was the same. Everyone had chores. Millard stole enough milk for the kids who would want some throughout the day, Fiona grew all of the herbs and plants they ate and a few they didn't, and you cleaned Enoch's tools and de-rusted all of the plumbing. You halfway thought the kids only liked you because of how efficient the toilets worked since you began your chore. 

You manipulated metal in every sense of the word. You could move it, purify it, and shape it with a great deal of concentration. More often than not, you ended up tired and accidentally hurting someone. It felt useless as far as chores went and you'd yet to find a use for it otherwise. Still, you tried to practice. Once you got the chore down, you could do it all at once which was a sort of practice itself. It took a little less energy to do the same task each time. But it was headachey to be constantly surrounded by proof you were a pariah as far as society was concerned, that you would never live a normal life so you didn't always want to practice your Peculiarity. Sometimes, you played with the kids. Others, you'd go into town. Sometimes, you left the Loop to call home or check the mail, or - hell - just visit the mainland. The Headmistress didn't like that, but you were grown. 

Mastering your ability was still priority, though, so you spent a great deal of time in your room. You were on the higher spire of the house, a room with slanted ceilings, but you'd survived far more dire straits. So you used your space, lifting every bit of metal in your room to fill the space. They were drawn closer together, merging where possible. Some pieces merged where they really shouldn't and it was like one of those ole' challenges. 

"That's remarkable," came a breathy comment. 

You jumped in surprise, losing enough focus that you dropped your remarkable masterpiece. You turned and looked over your shoulder. Headmistress Peregrine stood in the doorway, watching subtly. You got nervous around the Ymbryne and not just because she was like the principal. She was drop-dead gorgeous and she cared so, but you were just another Ward to her. 

Only, you weren't. Alma didn't find you; you found the loop by accident, like fate. And you weren't underage. You were naive of their ways, but you knew the world and the weight of it. You loved her children, but had yet to love yourself all the while still discovering yourself. You were just Alma's type; someone who could help yet needed it. "You should practice downstairs. The kids would love to see every stage of discovery."

You put your hands in your lap, looking caught. "That's alright," you replied lightly, though your chest felt heavier. You tended to hurt others on accident when you lost control and you'd rather not accidentally slice open an eighty-year-old preteen. You pried the objects back apart and put them in their rightful places.