#Mphfpc

[dragonsdendoodles]

Fiona appreciation post because she deserves the world!!!!!!! (Plus her husband who loves her so so so so much 💚💛)

[theducklingart]

So my headcanon about the peculiar souls!

[painted-lemon]

um can we make this a real thing??????

please tag any other fandom that could use this meme format

[book-m0use]

least favorite thing about small fandoms is i look like a stalker when i go through the tag and like a bunch of posts because its the same ten people posting

[frost-queen]

To be truthful (Reader x Enoch O'Connor)

Requested by: anon Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @alex–awesome–22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @markive-m

Emma was finishing setting up the table with Fiona. Holding some of the plates, she tilted her head to look into the hallway. – “Didn’t I call for diner a minute ago?” – Emma said out loud, turning around to look at Fiona for confirmation. Fiona shrugged her shoulders, placing a bowl with fresh cut carrots on the table.

“Should I call again? Miss Peregrine insists upon punctuality.” – Emma rambled on, getting nervous that no one was coming through the door. Setting the plates down on the table she had made up her decision. – “I’m calling them!” – she made clear, holding her hands to her hip.

“You’ve just called.” – Fiona answered with a roll of her eyes. Emma was about to shout when Hugh and Claire came running in. Almost running Emma over with their game of tag. Fiona jumped in front of them to stop them before they would bump against the counter.

With her calm hands, she brought them to a stop. Both were panting loud. Fiona simply had to point at Emma then at the table for them to understand. Horace and Millard entered a moment later. Horace chattering loudly as he blindly went to his seat.

Olive and Enoch joined as well. Olive having a soft smile on her lips. They both went to their seats at the table. Emma looked into the hallway with a worried look. – “Where is Y/n?” – she asked. – “Didn’t you call her?” – Emma turned to Olive and Enoch. Enoch sat down, pulling his shoulders up.

“Do I look like her babysitter?” – he answered rudely. Olive gave him a little glare to not be so negative from across the table. Emma’s gaze fixed on the clock, knowing Miss Peregrine would arrive any moment for diner. It made her panic that you still weren’t here.

Enoch jumped out of his skin, startled as he gripped the edges of his chair with a tight grip once you had popped up behind him. – “Bloody hell Y/n!” – he cursed out that you had scared him. You placed your hands on his shoulder, coming to lean over his shoulder.

“Did I startle you Enoch?” – you asked sweetly as he pushed your grip off him. Groaning in annoyance. – “Good of you to join us Y/n.” – Miss Peregrine said entering the room. You quickly went to your seat right across from Emma. – “Good day Miss Peregrine.” – you all called out in unison as she went to sit at the head of the table.

“Fiona splendid work with the vegetables.” – she complimented. Fiona smiled sheepishly, leaning back in her seat rather bashful. – “Now shall we eat.” – she unfolded her napkin to lay it on her lap. The moment was set as everyone got in motion. Reaching for food, chatting and laughing away. From at the other head of the table, you noticed Enoch staring at you or rather glaring at you.

You moved a bit forwards so he could see your face fully. You returned his glare with a sweet smile. Enoch only narrowed his eyes more, swallowing hard. Olive gave him a nudge. – “Stop glaring.” – she whispered to him. Enoch exhaled soft, turning his head away. – “It’s okay Olive. I know Enoch means well.” – you told her with another smile.

Enoch clenched his jaw, trying not to freak out about that. – “Don’t make assumptions for me!” – Enoch replied. – “Why do you dislike Y/n so much?” – Horace questioned as everyone adored you. Enoch leaned a bit forwards. – “Stay out of it.” – he shout-whispered. Miss Peregrine observed from afar. When you turned your head, you caught up with her gaze. With a soft smile, she winked at you.

After diner, the youngest ones were free to play, while the older ones were left to clean the table. You started collecting plates, stacking them on each other. Emma stood by the sink, letting water down to start the dishes. You popped up beside her, giving her a soft fright. – “Goodness Y/n.” – Emma blurted out, one hand on her heart. – “Can’t you just walk. The table is right there.” – she pointed out at how close it was.

It would only take one a few steps to reach her. Yet you chose to teleport yourself beside her. – “Y/n likes to be special.” – Enoch mocked holding a few glasses. You teleported away from Emma, appearing behind Enoch. – “I like teleporting.” – you told him as he had jumped back. With a loud groan he handed the glasses over to Olive.

You started collecting the cutlery. – “Y/n.” – Emma said daringly with a warning finger to not pop up behind her. You puffed soft. – “You are no fun.” – you mumbled, walking up to her instead of teleporting. – “Satisfied?” – you asked dropping the cutlery in the sink. – “Very.” – Emma responded, patting you on the head.  – “Now help me.” – Emma took a towel, laying it on your head, having a laugh at it. You pulled it down.

Giving her a nudge with your hip against her to make some room. Emma started washing the dishes as you dried them. Olive and Enoch putting away the left overs into the fridge. Whilst Enoch was working, he couldn’t help himself but admire you. Gaze upon you and watch what you were doing. Olive noticed it, giving him a little nudge in the side.  – “You are staring.” – she whispered in his ear. – “I am not.” – Enoch grunted out.

He quickly averted his gaze, yet he kept being drawn to you. Emma and you were chatting whilst finished the dishes. Olive joined the two of you, putting the dishes away. Enoch cleaning the table. After cleaning, you immediately popped away. Emma shrugged her shoulders, leaving the room to head outside. Enoch left as well with Olive right behind him. – “Are you going to play with your dolls?” – she asked, holding her hands behind her back.

“Maybe.” – he responded, looking over his shoulder to her. A part of him wondered where you were. With a soft sigh, he went upstairs with Olive. Pausing almost at the top of the stairs, he saw you walk across the hallway to your room. There you were. Olive poked him in the back to move. Enoch got in motion, heading for his room as he couldn’t help himself but glance at your door. Olive noticed it, stopping to knock on your door. – “What are you doing?” – Enoch panicked.

“Asking if Y/n wants to join. Don’t you want that?” – she said having a sense of his feelings towards you. It had become clear to her for a while now that his act of dislike towards you was just a charade. A façade to hide behind. Enoch tugged his hands in his pocket, looking away. Olive knocked again as you hadn’t opened the door yet. Grabbing the handle, she opened the door. – “Y/n?” – she asked softly, popping her head inside.

To her surprise your room was empty. – “Must have teleported out.” – Olive let out, closing the door once more. With a smile, she returned to an almost sweating Enoch. – “Now you mustn’t worry. She’s not here.” – she teased, patting him against his shoulder. They entered his room as Enoch went to sit. A doll in front of him on the table. Olive picked up one of his tools, already presenting it to him.

“Thank you.” – he said accepting the tool. He started working on the doll. – “Enoch.” – Olive started, hearing him hum loud. – “You like watching Y/n do you not?” – she asked as he nearly had a heartache. With wide eyes, he dropped his tool. In shock turning round in his chair to her. – “What?” – he called out. Olive giggled amusingly. – “I’ve noticed you watch Y/n a lot from afar.” – she explained. Enoch puffed loud. – “I do not.” – he replied turning back to his doll.

“It’s alright Enoch, you mustn’t be frightened of it.” – Olive went on handing him another tool. – “Of what?” – Enoch answered bitsy. – “Of having feelings for Y/n.” – Olive finished. Enoch’s hand slipped as he broke a piece off the dolls porcelain chest. He turned around getting up. – “I do not have feelings for Y/n!” – he shouted as Olive was unimpressed. – “Enoch, just admit it. Why are you even scared to admit it?” – she asked. – “I don’t have anything to admit as it isn’t true!” – he made clear with a glare.

“Liar!” – Olive shouted back, having enough of him lying to himself. – “You like Y/n and you are too afraid to admit it.” – she started, poking him in the chest. – “So you better stop being so scared and let yourself love her!” – Enoch fell back in his chair with her sturdy poking in his chest. Speechless, he stared at her. He had never seen her speak so loudly or react so vibrant. – “So Enoch O’Connor, you are going outside, find Y/n and be nicer to her as a beginning.” – she ordered him, pointing firm at the door.

Enoch shook his head, not wanting to do it. Olive removed a glove, showing her hand that caught fire to him. – “Don’t make me burn your puppets.” – she threatened. Enoch stumbled out of the chair, sweating with shock as he rushed downstairs to do as he was told. Too afraid Olive might actually burn his puppets or himself for the matter if he didn’t act upon his feelings. Olive sniffed out the fire, having a satisfying smile on her face.

------------------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[derpy-thebdayclown]

becoming obsessed with a book series was NOT on my 2024 bingo card!! i didnt even know i could read!!

anyways here is my miss peregrine lineup for the children! ,,,i somehow forgot about the title character and only noticed once i was done lining LMAO— i’ll draw my design for her another time and maybe some other characters. i am sorry miss P i knew something was wrong 💔

kind of iffy on emma, enoch, & jacob but i can tweak them later on if i draw em more BAHAH

anyways my favorite character in the books is horace 🩷🩷 my little fancy prophetic boy . although my favorite designs i did are hugh & fionas :)

i took some inspo from the graphic novels by cassandra jean bc i did really love them!!

anyways i love these books so much if you also like them LET ME KNOW I NEED FRIENDS

extra

[ravisconverse]

While I can appreciate both the mphfpc film and the books in their own separate sense, I just can’t help but criticise the film for some of the changes they made.

The aging down of Bronwyn and the aging up of Olive got rid of Bronwyn’s protective trait of the two younger girls.

The peculiarity switch between Emma and Olive was also so pointless. I mean I guess that it kind of makes sense with Emma being like the main “love interest” and her being the zephyr kind of fits more with Burton’s aesthetic, but it’s still very annoying, we deserved firey Emma.

The loop day. What was the purpose of changing the year to 1943 instead of 1940? It makes no sense, just keep it at 1940.

The postcard from Alma. In the books it was 15 years ago, which allowed for more doubt as to whether she would be alive or not. Reducing it to 2 years takes that away.

Every time I rewatch the film and I see the Olive/Enoch relationship I feel sick to my stomach. Enough said

Fiona’s entire character was ripped away and rewritten. Yes her backstory may have been considered too dark for the film, but come on you didn’t have to age her down, reduce her peculiarity and take away her selective mutism.

The aging down of Hugh, Millard and Horace really annoy me. Why are they children? I wanted sassy 17 year old Millard who is angsty and studious and sarcastic, Hugh who both loves and hates being peculiar and is devoted to Fiona, Horace being SCARED of his peculiarity.

I also feel robbed that we didn’t get Emma and Millard kidnapping and interrogating Jake when they first meet him. Or the whole thing with Martin and them having to fight the hollowgast. “Will you quit shouting and let me bleed in peace” you will always be famous.

Even though Alma Peregrine wasn’t accurate in the film, I am in love with how Eva Green portrays her, and how clearly her study of peregrine falcons comes into her acting.

[mayjunenov]

“whos the parent of the group?” none of them, this is my gaggle of child soldiers

[tuscyanie]

mphfpc girls

do you guys have any headcanons about the peculiars??

[tomouraline]

hugh jass

[4spiryn4]

Millard and Emma reading whatever.

I just really wanted to draw them together,, Like-They are best friends and i love them so much.

[dragonsdendoodles]

What do you think would have happened if Enoch died in the war?

I would’ve cried and thrown the book at the wall

[coryosbaby]

ᴅᴏʟʟ ᴘᴀʀᴛꜱ

Enoch O’Connor x angel! Reader <3

“Enoch! Give it back!”

Your citrine voice echoes throughout Miss Peregrine’s Orphanage as you chase the dark haired boy down. In his hands is your favorite doll, cracked but still beautiful, one Enoch had brought to life for you in the wee hours of the night many (of the same) days ago. He stomps angrily through the house, his jaw clenched, large back muscles flexing. Ignoring the squirming of the doll— aka, Mary— and her annoyed kicks, he tears open the door of his room and slams it right in your face.

How rude he is! All you had wanted to do was have tea with him and show him your new book. He had snapped at you, snarkily said something about “the both of you being too old for tea parties” and that he had more important things to do then do something so childish. You had snapped back, hurt from his words, and he had stolen Mary from you.

You don’t understand how he can be so cruel. His mood changes like the seasons— one minute he’s got a small smile on his usually dull face as he listens to you speak, making you toys that live and breathe. And then the next, it’s like you’re satan spawn.

You rest your back against his bedroom door, pouting. Tears begin to well in your eyes. You just wanted to show him your new book.

It isn’t long before you’re wiping your face and strolling towards Claire’s room. She lets you rant about your book without fuss, fascinated by all the tales that you had enamored yourself with. She also cheers you up about Enoch.

“He’s just in one of his moods,” she explained. A frown had formed on both of her faces, even when the one on the back of her head was gnawing on a chocolate chip cookie. “You know how he can get. He’ll cheer up and apologize, like he always does. Besides, he knows how important Mary is to you. He’ll give her back, I’m sure of it.”

You wonder how a child so young can be so intelligent about such things. But you guess that’s what happens when you relive the same day over and over for fifty years. You learn things, and in a way, still grow mentally.

After your talk with Claire, you feel better. You bid her goodbye, say hi to Emma as you pass her, and wander down the halls barefoot in your flowing pink dress. You make your way to the library for a new book to read.

To your distaste, Enoch is sitting at the couch when you walk through the door. You let out a little “hhm” sound, stomping angrily to the shelves. He’s got his head in a textbook about anatomy and looks up from it at the sound of your voice. He scoffs, then looks back down at it again.

Your fingers skim over book titles, some pretty and dainty, some horrific and covered in fine, dark print. You decide to pick a book by William Shakespeare— A Midsummer Night’s Dream. You scratch your feathered wings, beginning to read the book as you make your way back out of the room.

You pause at the door when Enoch’s voice makes way through your thoughts.

“You’ve read that one,” he murmurs, as his eyes scan over you.

You waver, hand staying on the doorknob.

“I didn’t know you remembered that.” you reply. You had read it years ago. Or, what you presume to be years ago. If you can even count time here.

“You recited it to me.” he shrugs, taking a glance over at your wings. They always fascinate him, even after all of this time.

“I know what I did, Enoch,” you retort, not having much logic in your sentence. But when do you ever? “Don’t tell me what I’ve done. You don’t have a right.”

“What sense does that make?” He questions snarkily, but you’re already out the door.

—

Dinner goes without much fuss. Miss Peregrine looks at the two of you questionably, wondering why you didnt take your usual seat beside Enoch, but doesn’t mention it out loud. After the reset you head back to your room and immerse yourself in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Your lace nightgown drapes down your body in silky waves.

Your shoulders are tensed, your feet tapping nervously. You’re used to Mary’s porcelain feet dancing across the hardwood floors, her tiny giggles as she looks at herself in the mirror. Usually at this time of night, you and the doll will lay awake in the dark, huddled under your ruffled pink comforter, and whisper to each other. It’s the only way you can go to sleep— Enoch had made her to help with your nightmares, after all. Your nightmares of children with no heads, monsters that pluck out children’s eyes in their sleep. Your nightmares of losing the people you love.

How could he be so cruel?

That anger flares up again. With a forceful hand, you slam the book down onto your desk and stalk across the hallway. Your knuckles rap against Enoch’s door ferociously, and when he finally opens it you force your way into his room with curses spilling off of your tongue.

“I don’t understand, Enoch!” Your wings seem to glow a dusty red hue from your rage. “I’m nothing but nice to you! I help you with your experiments, I try to be your friend, but at this point I don’t know if anyone could ever..“

You stop dead in your tracks. Enoch’s eyes dart to his work table, as if he was caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. You look across to it.

There, sitting happily, all fixed up, is Mary.

She has a smile on her painted face, and a new dress adorning her. Shes cleaned, polished, and almost looks brand new. All the cracks that were once on her porcelain skin have vanished.

“[y/n]!” The doll giggles excitedly, saying your name in words only you can hear. “Look what Enoch made for me! Isn’t it pretty?”

You gape as Mary happily twirls in her dress. Enoch clears his throat.

“She was filthy,” he mutters. “You should really start cleaning your things. It tracks dirt and grass all over the house.”

Turning to him, your stomach racks with guilt.

“You fixed her for me?”

He shrugs, avoiding your gaze, acting nonchalant.

“I’ve been meaning to for a while. It was quite annoying, watching her face caked with dirt everyday. And her dress was practically torn to shreds.”

You pick Mary up from the table, holding her in the palms of your hands. You press a kiss to her hair. The doll yawns.

“I’m tired,” she mumbles. “Can’t we sleep now?”

“In a moment,” you reply. “Why don’t you go to my room and wait up for me?”

She looks between you and Enoch, does that off putting giggle that would make anyone else uncomfortable, but not you. She hops down from your fingertips, and skips away to your room across the hall.

You hear Enoch’s bedroom door close behind you once she’s gone, and jump. The familiar raven haired boy brushes past you, taking a seat in his chair. His curls fall into his face, and usually you would move them away while he silently grumbled at you not to touch them. But right now, it’s different. You rock on the balls of your feet as silence fills the dark space.

“Enoch—“ you start, but the boy picks up a scalpel and throws one of his toys onto the table.

“I need the jar of hearts on the third shelf.”

It’s all he says, and you know that this is his way of saying he’s sorry. It’s an odd way, but it’s a way you’ve picked up on continuously. The boy doesn’t have the mouth to utter an apology, so he just brings things back to normal instead.

You scamper over to the shelves, picking out the jar he wanted, and sit it down beside him. A small smile grazes your lips, and you sit on the chair that he had put there just for you. He works silently, and his bottom lip pulls in between his teeth. You think it’s quite enamoring— sort of like your books.

Your mouth can’t seem to contain itself, and within minutes you’re speaking up again.

“Thank you,” you say. “I’m sorry. I should’ve—“

“It’s my fault,” he replies. “I…I shouldn’t have came off so brash.”

Without thinking, your hand brushes up against his.

“It’s alright,” you explain. “I forgive you, even though you haven’t said you’re sorry. But I know you are.”

He pauses. He can’t help but trail his eyes down to where your hands meet. You smile up at him, and he adjusts in his seat.

You kiss him.

You don’t know why you do, exactly. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you, like you’re something special. But your lips meet, and it’s sweet. Innocent, really— a small peck. His eyes are wide when you pull away from him.

“What was that?” He asks.

Your wings turn baby pink, and a grin spreads across your face.

“I just felt like it.”

[sammi0s]

hi mphfpc fandom

[cece693]

Replacement (Enoch O'Connor x M! Reader)

I wanted to add something to the relatively small pool of fics for this fandom. All characters are of age and can be envisioned as their book or movie counterparts.

Summary: As a healer, you naturally seek to care for those around you. So it was easy to befriend Jake when he first entered Miss Peregrine's loop, confused and hurt by his grandfather's passing. However, your best friend doesn't see it that way.

It was official. Enoch hated Jake. Not that the other children noticed, or if they did, they were smart enough to not mention it. Maybe it was jealousy. Perhaps he was bothered by how Emma's eyes sparkled with interest whenever the American boy was around. Or maybe, it was the disruption to their routine, as Jake's presence always seemed to stir the loop like a stone tossed into a still pond.

But Olive knew the truth, for she had quickly discerned Enoch's emotions behind the venomous words he threw at Jake whenever he came near. It wasn't about Emma or their routine being disrupted. It was all because of you.

From the moment Jake first stumbled into their world, he latched onto you—an oddball healer with a gentle touch and ability to mend the deepest cuts, both physical and emotional. So when Jake arrived, it was natural for you to be his guide, explaining things in a way that made the strange world of peculiars feel less threatening.

Naturally, Enoch hated it.

Before Jake arrived, you’d spend every minute by his side—looking over his shoulder, letting out a bright smile whenever his creations came alive. Enoch secretly treasured these moments, feeling comfortable in your presence and falling for you more each day. But now? Now it was Jake this and Jake that.

No space was safe from Jake's influence, nor did the American make it easy to escape his presence. It seemed like whenever Enoch and you were together, he appeared from thin air, begging you to help him with something. It was as if the American knew of Enoch's feelings and acted to rile him up, whisking the attention of the only person he actually liked. It's not as if there weren't any other children who would be happy to spend time with the American, why did he seek you out specifically?

Every time he saw you two together, a storm brewed inside him, and a tight knot formed in his chest. Enoch wasn’t stupid. He understood what jealousy was, but this wasn’t just jealousy. This was fear. Fear that you were slipping away from him. Fear that Jake was replacing him.

One day, it all became too much.

Enoch was sitting at the table in the library, flipping through one of his old, tattered books on embalming techniques, though his focus had long since disappeared. His mind, as usual, was on you. He had tried to pretend like nothing was wrong, but the bitter feeling gnawed at him constantly. And then, as if the universe was mocking him, you and Jake walked into the room together.

Jake was talking about something, gesturing wildly with his hands, and you were laughing—a bright, carefree laugh that Enoch hadn’t heard in days.

That was the last straw.

"Seriously?" Enoch snapped, slamming his book shut, startling you both. Jake stopped mid-sentence, blinking in confusion, but Enoch didn’t care. His gaze was fixed on you, his voice sharp and biting. “Do you really have to follow him around all the time?”

Your smile faltered, a confused frown replacing it as you looked at him. “What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Enoch’s voice grew colder, harsher. His jealousy had festered too long, and now it spilled like poison. “Ever since he got here, it’s like you’ve forgotten everyone else exists.”

Jake shifted awkwardly beside you, clearly unsure of what to say, but Enoch didn’t give him a chance. “You’re spending so much time with him, acting like he needs you for everything. It's pathetic."

Your eyes narrowed, a flash of anger crossing your face. “He’s new here, Enoch! He does need help adjusting. And I’m not just going to ignore him because you—”

“Because I what?” Enoch cut you off, his eyes blazing. “Because I’m not needy enough for you? Because I don't fawn over you like a mutt every second like he does?””

Your mouth opened slightly, stunned by his words. Enoch could see the hurt forming in your eyes, but he was too wound up to stop now.

“Face it,” Enoch continued, his voice colder now, “you just want to feel like you matter to someone, right? Like you have some purpose. Well, here’s the truth—you’re not needed here. Jake can deal just fine on his own and I don’t need a dessolent friend.”

Your face twisted in hurt, and that twisted something deep inside Enoch. You stared at him, your hands trembling slightly at your sides. “You’re wrong,” you finally said, voice breaking. “But I guess I was wrong too, thinking you were my best friend.”

Before Enoch could respond, you turned and stormed out of the room, leaving him and Jake alone. The American looked like he was about to say something, but Enoch shot him a cold glare, daring him to speak.

Days passed. Days where Enoch didn’t see you, didn’t hear from you, and the space you used to fill in his life became an empty void he couldn’t bear to acknowledge. You weren't just avoiding him, you had begun to spend even more time with Jake, much to Enoch's dismay.

He tried to act like it didn’t bother him. He pretended he didn’t care when he saw you laughing as if his absence meant nothing to you. But it did. It hurt more than Enoch was willing to admit. It was only when Olive pushed him to accept his mistake that led him to stand at your door, long after the other house's inhabitants had gone to bed.

Enoch stood there for a long moment, his hand raised to knock, but his usual stubbornness kept holding him back. What if you didn’t forgive him? What if you’d already moved on and replaced him for good?

Taking a deep breath, Enoch knocked.

After a few agonizing moments, the door creaked open, and you stood there, blinking groggily at him in the dim light. You looked surprised to see him, and Enoch couldn’t blame you.

“What do you want, Enoch?” you asked, your voice flat, distant.

“I…” Enoch faltered for a moment, struggling to find the right words. His usual snark and bravado were gone, replaced with something more vulnerable, more uncertain. “I came to…apologize.”

You crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe, clearly not ready to let him off the hook so easily. “For what?”

“For what I said,” Enoch muttered, not meeting your eyes. “For being a complete prat.”

Your expression softened, but you didn’t say anything, waiting for him to continue. Enoch sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Look, I didn’t mean it. Any of it,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “I was just…jealous. Of Jake. Of the time you’ve been spending with him.”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “Jealous? Why?”

Enoch hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it. He could either admit the truth or lose you for good. Taking a deep breath, he finally met your gaze. “Because I like you,” he confessed in a whisper. “I’ve liked you for a long time, and seeing you with him made me feel like I was losing you. Like I wasn’t needed anymore. Like I was being replaced.”

The weight of his confession hung in the air, and Enoch braced himself for your response. He had no idea how you would react, but he had to say it. He couldn’t keep pretending like it didn’t matter anymore. You stood there for a long moment, staring at him, processing everything. Then, slowly, you stepped aside, opening the door wider.

“Come inside, Enoch,” you said quietly. “Let’s talk.”

And for the first time in days, Enoch felt a small glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, things could be fixed after all.

[lov3-lik3-ghosts]

Hello! First off, congrats on your mum’s business🙂‍↕️

Here’s a one shot request that you can shape to your liking:

f!reader overhears Enoch talk badly about her and an argument arises. The classic miscommunication trip hahah

have fun and thanks🍝

Leak Death

Pairing: Enoch O’Connor x fem!reader.

Summary: Enoch has refused to let anyone else know of your relationship for months but still acts out when someone else takes an interest.

Warnings: Not beta or proofread. Use of Y/n. Slight mentions of an OC character.

Word Count: 2.4k

Note: Hi, lovely! You’re so kind, I’ll be sure to pass your congratulations along <3 First time writing Enoch dialogue so I hope you enjoy!

request guidelines | mother m-list

“Y/n?” His fist rapped against the wood of your door, each tap sounding through your room with the same erratic pounding of your heart. You don’t answer him, huddling deeper into the corner of your bed, against the wall.

He doesn’t let up.

Your name is called two times more, said through a gradually thickening accent. Your bottom lip wobbles. The longer he speaks the more his words echo through you, forming half collerative truths.

Enoch had always told you the truth, harshly said or not and he’d always been able to read you like a book. It was lovely when you’d been new to the loop, something you could easily latch onto and take comfort in. But now, when he knew everything about you, spilled from your lips and dripped from your soul… Enoch couldn’t keep your secrets, only his own.

“Y/n, please!” He pleads, his knocks fading into silence.

“She’s pathetic.”

Pathetic. That’s what he thought of you and Enoch never lied. Never to you, never about you.

“I’m s- I’m sorry.” The apology is forced through gritted teeth, as foreign to your ears as it was his tongue and to you, nothing but insincere. “Please just open the door?”

“Her peculiarity was intriguing to me at first too. Now I know it’s nothing but an inconvenience to us, a curse really.”

You are cursed. One touch of your body in the wrong place and you risk the possibility of unintentionally taking someone’s life. Poison runs through your ulnar veins and produces a slick substance on your wrists, never ending and never washing away, no matter how hard you scrub it always comes right back. A brush of the skin there or a leak through your gloves, everything becomes unsafe.

“There’s been countless times we’ve had to spend the day out just because she caught her glove on something. You think you’d be safe kissing her? Holding her hand? You’d die quick and painful. The loop couldn’t save you.”

The poison acts quick, leaking through most fabrics and seeping right through the pores of any skin it touches. Death is almost instantaneous once it’s been touched.

“She’s a walking hazard.” He scoffed. “She leaks death.”

You are always a hazard. You’ll always leak death.

You don’t always have to be pathetic.

Your door shakes under the weight of his fist once again. His voice has stayed quiet until now, speaking as though you were conversing face to face. “Y/n,” He pleads louder. “Please. If you just open the door, I can explain. Or- or don’t open it and just let me know you’re listening.”

You scoot to the edge of your bed, shoving your blanket to the side. The mattress squeaks lightly under you and you cringe, praying he didn’t hear and take it as a sign to keep talking. Trying your hardest to stay quiet, you shuffle over to the door.

The brass of the door handle makes a funny noise against the leather of your glove, squeaking as your fingers curl around it.

Enoch is silent on the other side and you wonder for a second if maybe he’d given up like you’d earlier knew he would but then his voice sounds again, only this time he’s not speaking to you.

“What do you want, Emma?” He spits, a dagger of defence spearing through the silence.

You pause, every breath feeling too loud, too incriminating.

“You’re a jerk, Enoch.” Emma claims. You can almost picture how she stands, tall with her shoulders back and frowning in the way only she can, sure and disappointed. “I can’t believe you.”

“Leave. This has nothing to do with you.” Enoch snarls.

This Enoch was more familiar to you, angry and defensive always. This was the Enoch you’d met way back when, fresh to the loop and in need of a friend. This was the Enoch who could only ever keep his own secrets, have his own back.

“Y/n is my friend. This has everything to do with me.” Emma defends, scoffing loud enough for you to hear. “You’re a jerk. How many times did Miss Peregrine have to convince us that there was nothing wrong with our peculiarities despite what non-peculiars had to say about them? All for you to become a part of the problem.”

“You don’t think I know that?” He spits. “I’m trying to apologise, so just go away, Emma.”

“No!” She exclaims. “You do this all the time! You’ve treated her badly since you met her, the only difference this time was that she didn’t just let it happen.”

Your heart pangs. They all knew. They all knew how much of a pushover you are, how pathetic you are. Embarrassment gnaws at your gut.

“Y/n is more than capable of sticking up for herself.” Enoch says firmly, his accent twanging into a growl. “Don’t make her out to be stupid. You're not around to see it.”

Emma stays silent for a moment. “You think that makes what you say acceptable?”

It’s a rhetorical question really but Enoch answers anyway, with words you never expected to roll off his tongue. “No.” He grits. “But my girlfriend is more than capable of telling me if she has a problem, she doesn’t need your help.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Your hold on the handle tightening.

There’s a collective gasp through the hallway that causes your eyebrows to furrow, the sound much too loud to be only Emma.

You open the door before you can really think about what you’re doing, coming face to face with the wide eyes of your loop-mates. Miss Peregrine stands behind them, her sharp gaze flitting sternly between you and Enoch. When her eyes catch yours she stares for a long moment, one that has your heart pausing for a whole new reason, before she smiles softly.

“Come along, children,” She beckons, gesturing to the stairs beside her. “I think Enoch and Y/n have some things to discuss.”

The youngest of the children go without question, muttering between themselves as they glance between you and Enoch with unbidden excitement. Olive gives you a long glance before she follows, one that you can’t quite decipher the meaning of but don’t yet care much for.

Jacob, Emma and Sam all linger. Emma’s mouth gapes and snaps shut twice before she turns to you. “Y/n?” Her wide eyes glimmer with question, straying only to further scan you. You shuffle uncomfortably, her eyes scorching your skin.

“Emma?” You murmur back, avoiding her piercing gaze.

“Girlfriend?”

“I-“ You take a deep, grounding breath. “Maybe? I’m– I’m sorry for not… telling you.”

Emma clenches her jaw. “Why didn’t you?” She spits.

You ignore the tightening of your throat. Jacob steps forward, resting a grounding hand in the crook of her shoulder. Emma seems to sense something in the touch, taking a small step back into his chest.

You stammer over a few words, trying to scramble together a response that wouldn’t paint Enoch in a bad light.

You’re not sure why you’re still trying to protect him, still defending his case even when you didn’t agree, didn’t understand it but you are; you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to stop.

Words fail you.

But like he always does, Enoch reads you like a yawning book, wide and full of secrets. He does something he’s only ever done once. “It’s my fault,” He takes the blame. “I didn’t want anyone to know. It wasn’t anyone’s business.” Even if it was his fault.

“Of course it was.” Emma says, exasperated. Raising and dropping her arm in his direction for full effect.

You see Enoch’s jaw clench in the corner of your eye, pulling taught in the way you’ve always loved, but he doesn’t respond. You look away.

“Emma,” Miss Peregrine interrupts, tone as firm as always. “Take a minute to cool down before you get ready for super. Jake, go with her.” She instructs.

Emma takes a breath, lips forming a would be argument. One look from Miss Peregrine has her quickly relenting, her lead boots clanging roughly with the floor as she stomped down the stairs, Jacob scurrying after her without so much as a glance in your direction.

“Sam.” The ymbryne calls sternly. Sam doesn’t look away from you, hasn’t once since you opened the door but he tilts his ear in her direction. “Downstairs to get your hands washed. Super will be ready in precisely five minutes.”

He stands dead still a few seconds longer, staring right through you with something unnerving lighting his gaze. Your skin crawls. Enoch steps before you, his shoulder shielding your face from Sam’s watching eyes. As angry as you are with Enoch right now, you couldn’t help but feel safer with him before you.

Sam’s smile is sharp as he finally looks away, something malicious gleaming his teeth as he finally pivots and travels down the creaky stairs, muttering a ‘yes, Miss Peregrine’ along the way.

“Don’t take too long, children.” Miss Peregrine says as she steps towards the stairs. “We wouldn’t want you to be too late to super, would we?”

“No, Miss Peregrine.” You and Enoch murmur simultaneously.

Enoch turns to you the second you can no longer hear her footsteps, gripping you by the waist and walking you backwards into your room before you can protest. The door clicks shut loudly behind you, forced closed by the toe of his shoe.

“I know you don’t want to talk to me right now,” He rushes out. “But please just listen before you start scolding.”

You choose to stay silent out of pure curiosity to what excuse he could pull together, ready and willing to call him out. If anything, he’d buttered you up by believing you were capable of scolding him.

“The others were playing one of their undeniably idiotic games again and he- Sam expressed a… liking for you.” He spat like the words were poison in his mouth.

You furrowed your brows, waiting. Nothing more came from him. “That’s it?” You scoff.

“That’s it.” He confirms, fingers twitching against your sides. You shove him off in frustration.

“Are you pulling my leg?” You frown. “You said all that you said because Sam might like me? That’s it? Are you kidding me, Enoch?”

Enoch narrows his eyes at you. “Might? He might as well have had Fiona grow you a flower garden.”

“I don’t care!” You snarl, exasperated. “You called me pathetic, a walking hazard! You said I leak death! You humiliated me, you backstabbed me. You used my words to make me look bad. I trusted you! I trusted you and you took advantage of it!”

“I was trying to make him leave you alone!” Enoch’s bellow echoes through your room, loud enough that you’re sure the others heard him too.

You inhale deeply, your shoulders dropping with defeat. “What does it matter anyway?” You heave a rough sigh.

He pauses, chest rising and falling erratically. “What?”

“What does it matter?” You repeat, swallowing. “He didn’t know we were together. No one knows we’re together. Hell, half the time I don't even know if we’re together!”

“I-“ He starts, face dark with anger before taking a deep breath. “You’re right. You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“You said I was cursed, Enoch.” You whisper. His frown deepens. “Is that what you think of me? You think holding my hand and kissing me is nothing but dangerous? Is that why you won’t let me tell, so you don’t have to do those things?”

“No!” He exclaims, stepping forward with an outstretched hand. “No. You think I would be with you if I thought all those things? You think death through love scares me? I-”

“You said those things, Enoch, not me.” You interrupt, pointing an accusing finger into his chest.

“I know!” He snarls. “I was just trying to get him to leave you alone. I know he makes you worry. I was saying the things I thought would scare him, not me.”

“It had to come from somewhere, Enoch O’Connor.” You growl back, fisting his shirt. “You think those things. Probably always have. Stop treating me like I’m naive.”

“You’re not naive, Y/n.” His tongue pokes out to softly wet his lips, a subtle nervous gesture you’d never been able to take your eyes away from. “I- I have thought them.” He looks away from you, guilty.

Your heart hurts as you take a step back, unfisting his shirt. It was different to hear it come from his mouth than you just thinking it; it cut much deeper. Your eyes water quickly, clouding over with pooling tears that spill down your cheeks quicker than you can stop them.

“In the beginning,” He rushes to continue, his voice thick and frantic. “When we first got together. I couldn’t help it, it was a possibility. Is a possibility. But you’re worth the risk — and more than.”

Your lip wobbles once more, trembling uncontrollably against your words. “What you said was downright nasty.” You cry. “I don’t think it was just the beginning.”

“It was.” He almost pleads. “It was. I don’t care about your peculiarity because you don’t care about mine. You take all the precautions, you make it safe. My peculiarity is all about the dead, I could hardly be scared of you.”

“Don’t brag.” You scoff, trying to smother your emotions back down into the chest box through distraction. “You do enough of that already.”

Enoch huffs a chuckle. “Whatever.”

“You have a lot of making up to do for that.” You sniffle, finally glancing over at him.

“You forgive me?” He swallows lightly, almost unnoticeable if not for the bob of his throat.

You shrug. “Are we still a secret?”

“I don’t think that’s possible anymore.” He shakes his head, dark curls ruffling with the motion.

“Your fault.” You pursue your lips.

“Never said it wasn’t.” He smirks lightly. “I’ll fix it. All of it.” He promises.

You relent into his lure, awaiting the upcoming weeks of him making it up to you in all the best ways with bode excitement. “I want at least a week of fights between my favourite homuncoli.”

Enoch steps up to you, the toes of his shoes meeting yours. His hands find home on your hips, pulling you flush against himself. Your cheeks flush pink.

“Deal.” He grins, leaning his head down to yours, connecting your lips with a tender passion.

~ 𐀔 ~ 𐀔 ~ 𐀔 ~

I’m beating writers blocks ass over here!

Like, comments and reblogs are extremely appreciated and very encouraging!