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#snufkin wants to be like his father
ghostscrown · 19 days
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I'll never talk enough about how insane Snufkin's situation is because... Imagine you're an orphan, you were apparently found in a basket floating on a river when you were just a baby. Growing up, you soon become a vagabond because... Well you just want to. Your travels make you meet your best friend. He lives with his parents, but also some sort of feral gremlin child who isn't his sister, but lives here because her home situation was too unsufferable for her or something. You kinda befriend her too, maybe you even meet her mom a couple of times when she's visiting, but you don't think about it too much. Your best friend's dad often tells you all about his youth, and how he was an adventurer with his two besties. You never actually met them, but the stories are really cool. Life is going on like that.
And maybe you'll never know that not only one of the dad's besties was actually your father, but also, the feral child's mom is actually your mom too, making her your literal sister, and none of you is aware of that, nor even know this woman once lost a child because either she doesn't care or just didn't even notice
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You might have gotten an ask like this before but I think it's unfair how snufkin often gets misrepresented in moomin media/fandom as either a deus ex machina type of wise traveler whos never wrong, or some sort of awkward teen who's "scared of socializing" could you perhaps analyze the nuances in his character?
I held off on answering this ask for a bit because Snufkin has honestly become such a nebulous character to me after a while that I barely have the motivation to properly discuss him. But now I've finally come to the right mindset to talk about his character;
Snufkin was... A few things in the books. A few very different things, actually.
His character is very notably different between the first half of the books (Comet in Moominland through Moominpappa's Memoirs) and the second half of the books (Moominsummer Madness through Moominvalley in November). These 2 eras of Snufkin make for an interesting character to ponder about even if he isn't as prominent as other characters (ironic, considering he's the first character anyone would know of when entering the fandom and is practically its figurehead)
Snufkin in his first era was... A very regular child with a much happier disposition, he tended to kick the shins of those who are about to say something they shouldn't and had very strange preferences and lifestyle but he was still very much a child unburdened by having to socialize or talk to people. He became quick friends with Moomintroll not because he exemplified an ideal that Moomintroll hoped for - but because he was so gosh-darn friendly and fun to be around.
He claimed himself a tramp and a poet when first meeting Moomintroll and Sniff and tried very dearly to be of help to them along the journey, even consoling Sniff when his plan to nab some garnets went awry, and he continues to be a good-natured fellow and a quick thinker throughout Finn Family Moomintroll. In Moominpappa's Memoirs he was absolutely mesmerized by the idea of his father and wanted to learn as much as he could about him, and arguably taking to idolizing him for both their similarities and simply how cool and punk he considered him.
Snufkin was also a story-teller throughout and contained more wisdom in his self than even some of the adults likely due to his traveling making him accumulate stories and practical knowledge that others wouldn't even think to explore.
Much of Snufkin's "tragedy" boils down to being orphaned so young that he didn't even imagine having parents of his own, thinking that he just came to existence in some basket one day and was found by some unknown "they", whoever they are, but that tragedy is quickly resolved as he reunites with his family in the epilogue of Moominpappa's Memoirs. He also took to traveling out of Moominvalley with great eagerness, it was more of a sudden decision and he didn't seem apologetic about it at all - he wanted so much to go somewhere new again, he was excited!
And it wasn't a goodbye forever, he promised to return in the spring when everyone was going to wake up. Perhaps he found that hibernation just wasn't for him and would rather take the lonely but exciting alternative, who knows! He's just a jolly little lad!
But then came Moominsummer Madness where we are presented with a more mature Snufkin, suddenly taking after his father with his smoking and anti-park terrorism but also after his mother with his care for an impossible amount of children. Although he didn't ring as excitable in tone as before, he still had conviction and a small sense of whimsy in him, he still cared deeply and wanted to be kind and it was almost too easy for him to take on a very parental role for the Woodies. He also still exhibited his greater knowledge of the world through knowing exactly what a play is and how it works.
We lack him in Moominland Midwinter, but he becomes a very romantic subject in Moomintroll's mind, reading his letter a bit too many times and imagining what it's like in the south - even declaring to go and meet him before the reality of winter hits him in the face. Those thoughts are very sporadic and short-lived however, as he has everything about the foreign land of Winter to worry about.
We then have the luxury of having 3 whole chapters mainly featuring Snufkin, The Spring Tune, The Last Dragon in the World and Cedric, all of which place him on the higher ground, whether as a philosophical authority or someone to be impressed. He's clearly depicted as a more closed-off character, much different than the younger Snufkin we knew in the first half of the series.
Where he was excited to make new friends who've stumbled onto his camp in Comet in Moominland, he's totally apprehensive of a Creep invading his space. Where he tried to help make Sniff feel better by looking on the bright side of things and relented when Sniff countered him with his real lament in Comet in Moominland, he lectures to him a story and is too stubborn to stop it when Sniff is clearly disinterested and keeps interjecting.
Finally, Moominvalley in November made him very... Restless in his need for isolation. He hated or atleast disliked these people he was stuck with without even knowing them properly, he freaks out at the sight of signs that only tell the name of Moominhouse and he felt watched by the others even in the safety of his tent. But he grew out of it, his main motif was his harmonica and he kept playing and playing and playing it throughout the book, he became an inspiration to the Fillyjonk, he was a partner in Mymble's act during the party, he helped the Hemulen sail his boat for the first time.
He learned to coexist with new people again. After a long time of getting too used to a family as understanding as the Moomins, he finally formed new bonds with new people, and when the snow came it was his time to depart as the second-to-last person left in the Valley, even if he never got to see the Moomins that time. Toft pondered if Snufkin understood that Toft was meant to be the only one to greet the Moomins upon their return, or even that he understood even more than that.
Snufkin is still a kind person through it all, an unwilling inspiration to others now too, but even when he's become so terribly closed off from others he still makes the choice to help and make the right choice in the end.
He's changed a great deal throughout the books, but his integrity remains all the same.
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Snufkin in the comics, on the other hand...
Is just kind of there? For about... 4 comics out of the 21 that Tove made?
I mean, not to diminish him, he's still spoken about as though he's Moomintroll's best friend in The Conscientious Moomins but he lacks any stay them. In Moomin and the Brigands and Moomin in Family Life (literally the first 2 comics of the strip), he seems very similar to how he was in the first half of the books, he's very quirky and happy to lend a paw whenever he should. He spouts about using money to plant trees all Lorax-like and barely helps in Moomintroll and Sniff's endeavors (he's characterized as more of a nuisance in Brigands, really), and he becomes an object to impress for Moominpappa because of Moominpappa's emphasis on wanting exciting things to happen in the comics. Snufkin's still a wise guy but he left before we got much of him.
And then we have the Conscientious Moomins and Moomin and the Golden Tail where he's characterized more familiarly to anyone who's watched the 90s series, Moomintroll goes to him whenever he needs advice or to 'get away from it all', and he's super willing to help others with jobs even if he and his lifestyle doesn't fit into the conscientious life. In Golden Tail he keeps asking Moomintroll to fish with him and he becomes the one source of normalcy in the story before being torn away because Moomintroll's fame is interfering with even his friendships. Snufkin is characterized as a support mechanism in these comics.
He's very likeable as a character but like almost everyone else in the comics, he's Not That Deep, Bro.
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I think the reason why Snufkin gets characterized as dues ex machina who solves problems most of the time is because those adaptations lean into him being The Smart One With Outside Knowledge a bit too hard, however when you look at the 90s series as a whole his characterization there is only seemingly not-good because the series has an overall problem of not letting its characters express themselves, and he gets involved in much more stories than he actually was in the source material so I could hazard a guess that the writers - based on not only Tove's Snufkin but also Lars' Snufkin which continued Contentious/Golden Tail Snufkin's characterization - would reason that since Snufkin was Like That in the comics then he could easily also be like that in their own stories.
Shin Mūmin made an egregious use of the Snufkin-ex-machina card because they aged him up and they reshaped him into a traveling and helpful loner archetype who knows what he's doing 99% of the time, however they did what the 90s series couldn't and actually made him emotional which very much saves his character in my eyes.
Moominvalley 2019 started Snufkin's character in Tales From Moominvalley aswell as Moominsummer Madness and that pretty much dictated his personality for the rest of the show. Because Moomintroll was meant to be a teenager who acted like he did in the comic alot, I could easily believe that the writers also trying to rein Snufkin in by making him more relatable or more like a real teenager. Perhaps they also wanted to stray from Snufkin's previous characterization as a deus-ex-machina character and Gary Sue by going into the other end of the spectrum, but given how Moominvalley2019 is with the rest of the cast... It ended up a little too much.
While I admit Snufkin is a very interesting character and I can see how he's good enough to be a fan favorite, I don't have any plans on delving into him much further when there's other things that interest me. As I said, he's become a nebulous character to me - and no matter how much I read or watch about him in the source and licensed material and get happy to see him, there's always going to be that half of my brain that keeps reminding me about his fans and how fanon has took hold of him that there's really nothing but indifference whenever I think about delving into his character.
I wrote most of this based on memory with some occasional checking so I may have gotten some things wrong, and even when I read or watch stuff with him in it, my attention usually goes to things other than him. It's not because of an inherent fault in his character, really, it's just a tragedy of the fandom tainting my enjoyment of him in general. So... Let this be my one full-length analysis of him.
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hill-art02 · 4 months
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Moomins if it was written by the people who wrote Helluva boss.
* It started off as a wholesome show about Moomintroll and his adventures with his friends and family in Moominvalley, but it turns into an angsty love story between him and snufkin.
* Moomin cheated on Snorkmaiden with Snufkin, but it turns out that she was an abusive b!tch, so they did nothing wrong.
* Moominpappa and Moominmama have a healthy relationship, but only pappa gets any characterization and depth, while Mama's only trait is that she is kind and loyal to her husband.
* Snuff is the shows punching bag and gets constantly mistreated by everyone, but it's okay because abuse is only bad when it happens to our favs.
* Snufkin accidentally killed his mom by dropping his pipe or something on the floor, causing a house fire. He has been traumatized ever since.
* Little My is Snufkin's sister who hates him for what he did to their mother, but since she's a girl, her trauma isn't taken as seriously as it is for snufkin despite her losing the same mom. She's also a drug addict.
* Joxter is Snufkin's abusive father who only exists to make Snufkin's life more miserable.
* The Snork is Snorkmaiden's manipulative gay brother who is more liked in the Fandom than her despite him also being a sh!tty parson.
* Thingumy and Bob are also in the show, but only in the background with no relevance to the plot because I guess the writers wanted to give all their attention to the MLM ships rather than any other sexuality.
*OH! Didn't I tell you that everyone is super horny and swears every 5 seconds?
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darkandstormydolls · 2 months
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So I finished my Snufkin costume, which is very fun and exciting. And when I make costumes, especially for one like this where I have to extrapolate a lot of details, I like to think about the character the costume is for and their background and why they would wear what they do.
So this got me thinking. Snufkin isn’t given a ton of background, at least not in the books (I haven’t watched any of the shows yet). We know that his father is the Joxter and he’s one of, if not the, youngest of the Mymble’s children. So it’s at least inferable what some of his childhood was like, based on the Mymble and the Mymble’s Daughter’s appearances.
So what I figured from there would be how Snufkin became who he was. He’s clearly shown to be an introvert who needs plenty of alone time. And from what’s shown of the Mymble’s family, it seems like the antithesis of the environments he prefers. So I think that that’s the reason he became a wanderer. I’d imagine he would probably try and duck out of the house whenever possible in search of peace and quiet when it all got too much. As he got older, he would have left for longer, eventually staying out for days at a time; with the number of children in the house, there’s a decent chance his absence wasn’t even noted. Eventually, he just left altogether; the constant noise and chaos of home just got to be too much for him. I don’t imagine the Joxter, noted for hating the rules and avoiding anything involving effort, would have been a very attentive parent. He probably drifted in and out of the house, avoiding responsibility and wandering off on adventures whenever he felt like it. Maybe a young Snufkin looked up to him, figuring a life like the one he led would be better than living in the busy and chaotic Mymble household. Snufkin heading off on his own from a young age would also explain why he and Little My weren’t especially well acquainted before she came to the Moominhouse: he just wasn’t around.
I’m really happy with how this costume turned out. I used a lot of linen fabrics, since I figured they looked a bit rough and natural and perfect for him. I also put wooden buttons on the jacket and shirt, since that seems like something he would wear; he’s seen whittling at some points, so it’s not too much of a stretch to imagine him making wooden buttons. After a long internal debate with the part of me that wants to make every costume cute and frilly and fancy, my only concession to girlishness was Kirsten-Larson-style looped braids, which was honestly just more of a concession to my hair than anything else. As cute as cottagecore Snufkin would be, it just doesn’t fit the character.
There were a handful of details I added that I really liked. The wooden buttons are one. The hair ties are made of the same sturdy linen as the pants rather than being fancy ribbons. There are extra pocket in this outfit, in both the pants and the jacket. The hat brim is interfaced with whatever random interfacing scraps I had, which felt very appropriate.And the flowers on the hat come off, so I could add a feather instead later if I want.
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doughbrainer · 2 months
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Alrighty, Sorry This Took So Long But I've Updated Barley's And Everret's References! As Well Got A Better Idea For Their Personalities And Story! Some Information Might Be Different From The Original Reference, But I Also Rushed Those Really Hard So Don't Be Surprised.
Anyways, Let's Get To It!
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BARLEY CALHOUN (She/Her) Voice Claim : Nana Osaki (Nana)
Barley Calhoun Is The Human Daughter Of Barney Calhoun And Currently Unnamed Mother And Is From The Universe That The Original Half-Life Games Take Place. Barley Was Born Before The Suppression Field Was Put Into Place And Was Hid In Secret By Her Mother And Eventually A Scientist Known As Dr. Cohrt. She Sticks With Dr. Cohrt For A Long Time, Helping With The Work He Does, Seeing Him Somewhat As A Father Figure.
Eventually, Like Her Parents, She Goes Under Cover For The Resistance And Becomes A Metro Cop. Around The Same Time, Dr. Cohrt Gets In Contact With Eli Vance And Isaac Kliener. Working Together As Gordon Freeman Eventually Comes Back. They Make Their Move To City 17 To Help With The Uprising. Sadly, Due To Dr. Cohrt's Age, He's Unable To Fight Back And Eventually Dies.
Barley Continues To Fight Against The Combine And Finally Meets Up With The Other Scientist. Soon, She Finds Barney And Realises He Is Her Father. It's Not Easy For Her To Get Along With Him At The Start As It Is Right After She Loses What She Thought Was The Last Family She Had, But Soon She Does Start Seeing Him Properly As Her Father.
When She's In Her Mid 20s, She's Approached By The G-Man, Representing His Employers. She Tries To Avoid The Job She's Given That Would Hire Her But Eventually Does It By Accident Anyways. Therefore Putting Her In Similar Position To The G-Man. This Automatically Gives Her A Long Life, Technically Immortality But Barley Can Still Get Fatally Wounded But Still Won't Die. Eventually She Gets The Power To Travel Across Universes, Which Is How She Goes Into The HLVRAI Universe And Meets Benrey, Gordos And The Gang, As Well As The Kickstart For The Events That Led To Everett.
Speaking Of The Boy!
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EVERETT CALHOUN (He/Him) Voice Claim : (Older) Snufkin (Moomin Valley) (Younger) Adorabat (Mao Mao: Heroes Of Pure Heart)
Everett Calhoun Is The (Unconfirmed Fanon) Son Of Barley Calhoun And Arden Ardven. Obviously, He Took His Mother's Last Name. He Was Born After His Mother Got Pregnant After Eating His Father Heart. After Barley Found Out That Arden Couldn't Regenerate Any Part Of Him If It Was Eaten, She Took It Upon Herself To End Arden And Took His Heart, Therefore Ate It. Everett Never Knew Who His Father Actually, He Understood That Benrey Was His Uncle Due To Being Related, He Knew Of Arden's Life As His Actions Greatly Affected Not Only His Biological Family But His Alien Species As A Whole. The Reason Why It Took So Long For Him To Find Out Was Because No One Didn't Know How To Break The News To Him Until Barley Rips Off The Bandaid For Him When He Was 13.
Everett Wasn't Much Of A People Person Growing Up, He Only Really Hung Out With People He Knew His Mother Trusted, So Most Of His Family, He Considers His Friends. The Only Person He Could Really Consider An Actual Friend That Isn't Family Is Joshua. He's Very Attached To His Uncle Benrey, As Benrey Felt A Father Figure To Him. Everett Is Very Expressive Both Physically And Emotionally, He Uses Sweet Voice A Lot, Especially Into Adulthood. When He Does Eventually Find Out Arden Is His Father, He Becomes More Noticeably Anxious About Stuff. Although Everett Is His Own Person, He Has Nightmares About Parts Of Arden Living On Inside Him.
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Arden Is @pistachi0art's Original Character. Everett Is NOT Canon To Arden's Lore As Far As I Know, So This Is Just My Personal AU For Now.
Also Despite Barley Being A Half-Life OC, From The Half-Life Universe, I Won't Be Tagging Half-Life, I Don't Want To Get My Ass Bit
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sbsbbshdj · 8 months
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I decided to revise the cartoon of my childhood, and draw on it! Or rather, draw a merger of Moomin characters and heroes from there.The plot there is almost like in Pinocchio: a wooden boy, who was made from a magic fire, runs away from his father, and meets Theater with puppets, he runs away with them and then they give him a golden key that opens the door to a room in his father(Giusepe)'s house .
So, I drew almost the main characters!
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For understanding: Pierrot and Malvina are dolls who play in the theater an evil man whose name is Korobas Barabas (I want to make him Hodkins)And Snufkin (artemon) Malvina's dog, who also plays there. Piero is in love with Malvina, and writes poetry and songs to her,Malvina, in turn, is a very diligent doll who does not tolerate disobedience, Artemon,can be said,to help her clean up
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I also drew the main character as a little My-his name Buratino(the same wooden boy who was inspired by Pinocchio)
If you are interested, I can give you links to YouTube Kids with this (English subtitles)
youtube
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flowerbloom-arts · 1 year
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thoughts on the joxter x moominpappa ship?
I'll start off bluntly and say that I don't like the ship.
Not to say that it's invalid, it just feels ill-fitting for the 2 characters at least with the way I've seen it presented.
(BIG ramble down below)
I think it mostly hinges on Snufmin's existence and thus it being a funny situation. But I don't think Moominpappa and the Joxter would ever be interested in each other in that way.
Moominpappa explicitly does not care for Joxter, he views him as incompetent yet mysterious, but rewarding to impress. Moominpappa doesn't think of him very highly, but not in an active rivalry sort of way, he just doesn't capture his interest with bright starry eyes like Hodgkins does.
I blame the 90s series with its bare-bones characterization (and mischaracterization/misrepresentation) of the characters, making them and their dynamics so boring that it leaves it all to the imagination of the audience, which gives way to the most stereotypical fandom archetypes for the characters you can dream of. Most of the ship hinges on these fanon characterizations; characterizing Moominpappa and the Joxter's relationship as a rivalry with romantic tension or as Joxter being the annoying one of the duo while Moominpappa is the Regularly Annoyed Guy.
The only people the Joxter has expressed interest in is the Mymble (romantically) and the Muddler (which he seems to have a close bond with, to the point where he stands up for him and shares food with him), I always imagined the Joxter saw Moominpappa as an annoying enigma who is far too easy to mess with and only cares for Hodgkins so they don't interact much, much of the same goes for how the Muddler views Moominpappa aswell.
I also don't understand the romanticization of the main ship's fathers having dated in the past beyond how funny the situation is. It makes me very uncomfortable to think about and I wouldn't feel so inclined if I was either Snufkin or Moomintroll. If someone would go for a "the Joxter and Moominpappa fell out so it's so romantic how Snufkin and Moomintroll got together" and uses that as some cosmic fate angle I just don't.... Know how to feel about that. It just further cements Joxpappa as purely an extension of Snufmin and Snufmin is already a ship I'm getting tired of.
We also know too much about Moominpappa, I think. The only people who occupy his mind in a very positive way are Hodgkins and Moominmamma, he sure does have friends but they're just friends to him, Hodgkins and Moominmamma were very formative people for him and isn't the type to give that honor to anyone he liked. When it comes to the Joxter and the Muddler there's plenty of wiggle room and room for speculation, Moominpappa is established as an unreliable narrator (which is an issue I'm afraid I've been having to ignore because it extremely complicates things) but what he felt at the time was real to him, we get to see inside his head throughout the books, while the Muddler and the Joxter and Hodgkins get none of that privilege. Thus it feels wrong to me to force a ship that never had a hint, especially with Moominpappa in the picture.
I also don't see the narrative benefit of Joxpappa, it doesn't fit neatly into Moominpappa's arc or themes. The dynamic of high-strung attention-seeker vs wants-to-live-life and lazy cat is a fun dynamic to think about to be sure, but I can't imagine a romantic aspect to it because they haven't actively butt heads except for the time Moominpappa was being the worst when it came to the Island Ghost debacle.
I ship the Muddler and the Joxter because the nervous wreck and aforementioned cat dynamic is both fun and gives way to many interesting themes that are backed with the pre-established dynamic of the book. I see them as two completely different people brought together by the commonality of being considered strange and having a need to care for each other.
I ship Moominmamma and Moominpappa (although relatively recently) because I see these two different people who love each other in different intensities and would do anything for each other as we see in many adaptations. I see them as opposites holding paws because their opposing traits are what keep the other from falling into extremes and they just want to make each other happy (even if Moominpappa is more than selfish and both of them rely heavily of gender norms).
The Joxter and Moominpappa I can see potential in but the fandom has soured the appeal to me in more ways than one. The intensity isn't there, there is no strong feelings for each other or even opinions, they're incredibly lukewarm and often get on each other's nerves but they don't interact enough for it to be a big pattern.
A better parallel to Snufmin would quite literally be Moominpappa and Hodgkins. Because much like Moomintroll does for Snufkin, Moominpappa has a great and obvious admiration for the man and has more than a few rambles talking about him, he payed attention to his body language, he enjoyed him immensely despite the lack of social skills, he got legitimately depressed when he left for work for a long time, he was part of his special thanks in the preface next to his wife and the Hattifatteners who gave him the adventure he craved for a long time. Hodgkins is Moominpappa's true Snufkin - albeit I don't think it can be read romantically like Snufmin, more in a fatherly manner, but it's far, far more than he could ever have with the Joxter.
And as a Moominpappa kinnie I do say most of this should be accurate.
Anyway how's about we focus on real dyanmics instead of fake ones for a bit? I'm craving Moominpappa and Hodgkins father-son bonding.
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mackeralsauce · 8 months
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☆ Put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs. It's time to spread positivity!
Owo can we some more of your ocs???
WAAAAA-
also yes absolutely! i do not have any puppet OCs (yet) other than my puppetsona, so my other OCs shall have to do! this will be a bit long so i'm going to put this under a read more:
we'll start with some more fandom-related OCs! here's Miiko, a Moomins OC of mine:
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Miiko is a half-moomin/moomintroll (similar to how Snufkin is half-mumrik). He's in an OC x Canon poly relationship with the Joxter/Joxaren and the Mymble! His whole thing is that they're an astronomer who writes the constellations upon maps, and he also dabbles in a bit of theatre.
I also have an MHA/BNHA OC, although I am not part of the fandom/never got deeply involved into it. I still keep her because I made her when I was going through a rough friend group and so she brings me a lot of comfort as writing and re-developing her after the events helped ease the pain I was recovering from.
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She is depicted to the right (on the left is @soda-sparkss OC Miasma Bakugou), and her name is Inako Saito! She was raised by the Neo-League (a recreation of the LOV in her universe) and was experimented on quite a bit as a child. This resulted in her having an unstable quirk that constantly changes, called Quirk Shift.
This isn't really a fandom necessarily, but I have a D&D character I have yet to get a chance to use yet, but I love them to bits!
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(Image by goemon on Toyhou.se / diesaur on Instagram)
This here is Kiwal! He's an avian monk who was raised by sailors upon a ship known as The Lindwurm. They very much believe in the power of friendship(tm) and they're an all around great guy! His voiceclaim is Tidus from Final Fantasy X and his themeclaim is any of Maxi's themes from the Soul Calibur series.
Moving on from fandom OCs.... onto Story/Project OCs! I'll start with a guy I haven't used in a long time:
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I don't really have a reference for this version of him, but this is Bass! He started off as a Friday Night Funkin' OC a long while ago but then I changed him into an OC for a Tactics RPG Project I had in mind (similar to old Fire Emblem games or Final Fantasy Tactics). He's the Fellaen prince of an empire that worships the dragon Ouroboros. He's one of the two main characters of his story, the other being the vessel of the divine and fell dragon, Luka (whom I have 0 image references for- sorry-).
Now for an OC very close to my heart, because @soda-sparkss made him!:
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(Art by @soda-sparkss, character on the right belongs to him! That is Tobias)
Keanan (depicted on the left) is a human with a love for programming, the technical side of spaceships, etc. who was stuck being a janitor on a human fleet because the higher-ups felt he was too pacifistic. One day the ship he was on got attacked by an alien fleet (specifically, a species known as Nephorites) and was taken aboard their vessel by their captain, Tobias. He ended up getting hired there >:)
Now for a character from a project you will hopefully one day see...:
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This here is Lucrum Von-Aconitum, a Nephilion (species from one of my bigger projects). He's the current head of the Von-Aconitum bloodline and thus is the Grand Judge of Terrahydrus, the Underground Canal City. He is in fact a father figure and also is very corrupt (accepts bribes and whatnot in his courtroom). We love him though <3 He is part of a very, very big RPG project I plan on making one day... it will likely change a lot once I start working on it, because the story needs a very heavy revamp (really, really badly- it sucks to me as of now).
I don't want to list any of my other story OCs from that story since I need to redesign them + rewrite the plot heavily, so I'm going to show one last silly, non-story OC:
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This is Kweh-Kweh. He was originally a Modern D&D OC (grung DJ bard) but now he's just a cool OC. Peep the shinji chair on his kneepads.
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ickaimp · 2 years
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[Moomin] Butt Touching
Since ‘Fire in your Eyes’ is on the angsty/dramatic side, have a short silly fic about Moomin and butts.
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“Mamma. Mamma!” Her son’s voice sounded breathless and urgent. She looked over to find him gripping his tail tightly in both paws, eyes wide and a little wild. “What is it?” She hadn’t heard anything alarming, at least for the past hour or so. Come to think of it, they were about due for a Little My prank. She didn’t do well in the quiet. “I touched his butt.” Moomin uttered breathlessly. He touched… “Whose butt?” “Snufkin.” Moomin’s face began to blush pink as he twisted his tail. “It was an accident. But-“ He ducked his head. “Iwannadoitagain.” Mamma fought a giggle. It looked like Moomin was finally figuring a few things out. “How does he feel about it?” “He blushed, excused himself, and is now hiding in his tent.” That seemed to put a small damper on Moomin’s giddy spirits. “Well…” Mamma mused, trying to figure how to phrase things. She’d sworn to herself she wasn’t going to meddle in the kids relationships. Not much anyway. “Does he want to touch your butt?” She asked. Moomin blinked, his eyes somehow getting even larger as he abruptly straightened, the blush fading to be replaced by an interested look. “Maybe you should ask him?” She gently suggested. “It’s only fair, after all.” “Right.” Moomin nodded his head once with a jerky motion, then turned and ran outside, his voice ringing clear as the door shut behind him. “SNUFKIN! WANT TO TOUCH MY BUTT??” Mamma sighed to herself as she resumed her previous task. She was fairly certain her son had inherited his lack of tact from his father.
-fin-
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95jezzica · 2 years
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Moominpappa and his Friends
So, I was just hit with the theory/realization that Moominpappa might have thought his friends were dead.
It was something which hit me while I re-read my English version of ‘The Exploits of Moominpappa’ (can’t find my Swedish one for some reason), because in the end of the book Moominpappa seemed genuinely surprised when his old friends showed up. He hadn’t called/sent for them.
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“Glad to meet you,” said Moominmamma. “Would you like a glass of rum punch?” “Thanks,” Hodgkins said. “One for me. And a few for the others outside.” “Have you brought somebody?” asked Moominpappa.
- Page 128, The Exploits of Moominpappa, translated by Thomas Warburton.
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Now, put together with how Moominpappa tried to avoid many of Snufkin’s and Sniff’s questions about their fathers in the book - at times even in borderline cruel ways... I wonder if Moominpappa thought his friends were dead and just didn’t want to tell Snufkin and Sniff? Especially considering that part near the end just before Joxter, Muddler and the rest arrived.
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Sniff cried: “But then - what happened then?”
“Oh - then,” Moominpappa replied and made a vague sweeping gesture that comprised the house, the family, the garden, the Moomin Valley, and generally everything that follows after one’s youth.
“Dear children,” said Moominmamma shyly. “Then everything started.”
A sudden gust of wind rattled the windows.
“To be out on the sea on a night like this...” said Moominpappa abstractedly.
“What about MY daddy?” Snufkin asked. “The Joxter? What became of him? And of mother?”
“Yes, and the Muddler?” asked Sniff. “Did you lose the only daddy I ever had? Not to speak of his button collection and the Fuzzy?”
Moominpappa hesitated.
- Page 127-128, The Exploits of Moominpappa, translated by Thomas Warburton.
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There have been a lot of theories over the years about why Moominpappa didn’t tell Snufkin and Sniff about their parents much earlier, but the only one which avoids Moominpappa being a complete (-)sshole is probably that he thought his friends (at least the Joxter, Muddler and Fuzzy) were already dead.
Moominpappa mentions in the book that the Joxter never saw Snufkin, and we see several times in the book how caring both the Joxter and Muddler are to other people. Meanwhile Snufkin is mentioned to have grown up in an orphanage in some works.
Moominpappa’s first thought about his friends would hardly be “they abandoned their kids” once he figured out who Snufkin’s and Sniff’s parents were. However, if Moominpappa instead thought they were dead it would explain why he didn’t want to bring them up to Snufkin and Sniff - because who wants to be the messenger of That? Not to mention his own grief if he thinks at least 2-3 of his friends are dead.
Now, I should mention that I don’t have easy access to the comics at the moment, so there may or may not be ones that contradict the theory or even proves it further, but... Honestly?
Even with this theory Moominpappa should have told Snufkin and Sniff about their parents earlier, but at least it would make sense why Moominpappa didn’t want to answer more of Snufkin’s and Sniff’s questions. A theory, sure, but... It kind of makes sense.
Moominpappa might have thought his friends were dead.
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strawtebby · 2 years
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https://picrew.me/image_maker/1654358
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This is Moominrik, the Snufmin child I made, he has some coloration from his dad, Snufkin, while still being mostly Moomin. He’s very restless and one day really wants to go see the world like his dad. Moomin is protective, probably because Rik gets sick so often and is just as, if not more, stubborn and impulsive as both his fathers. Short story I wrote about Moomin and Snufkin under the cut. Rik calls Snufkin dad and Moomin papa
Snufkin and Moomin have long since confessed and gotten married with Snufkin still going to explore every winter, when Rik is born though Snufkin goes a bit stir crazy being forced to stay in one place for months until Rik is born in the fall. When Moomin comes downstairs one day at the start of winter and sees him getting a bag together he feels more alone then he ever had before. He asks Snufkin for the first time ever to not leave, to stay just this once and go in the spring when Rik was no longer a newborn. But he can’t, Snufkin feels compelled to wander and as much as he truly does love his family he is terrified of one winter turning into one year, and then three, and then ten, until suddenly he’s trapped in Moomin Valley forever, never able to leave again. He loves it here, in many, many ways it is his true home, but he can’t ever feel comfortable here again if he forces himself to stay… so he leaves. He promises he’ll come back a little early, that he’ll already be here when Moomintroll and Rik wake up… Moomin says nothing, other then telling him to be safe, and watches him leave. He cries for hours that night, cries himself into hibernation next to Rik’s bassinet in his room. That is, until Rik wakes up halfway through winter and starts to cry, hungry and needing to be fed. Moomin does his best to try and put him back to sleep but it doesn’t work. You see, Rik is half Mumrik, and they don’t sleep through the winter, they wander. Poor Moomin is a wreck by the time Snufkin gets home, his promise broken, even if it wasn’t his fault. Rik is crawling by now and Moomin’s nerves are shot by the thought of him crawling into a snowstorm, falling down the stairs, climbing out the window, it was all so awful to think about that eventually he starts keeping Rik in a swaddling blanket around his chest. Rik is his fathers’ son and so he is adept at getting himself into messes, so it honestly probably was the best option. Snufkin is surprised when he walks in and sees Moomin tiredly chopping up fruits and vegetables for a purée, he was certain he was back early, the snow was still falling even. Snufkin quietly announces his presence, Moomin takes one look at him, glares, and pulls Rik out of the sling around his body and puts him in Snufkin’s arms telling him to take care of him, he was going to bed. Snufkin was confused, Moomin was always excited when he came home and with dread pooling in his stomach he can’t help but think of something Little My had said to him once as he was preparing to leave for winter: “You know if you keep leaving him like this there will come a day when he won’t be waiting.” Snufkin is terrified that her words might have come true, but is pulled from his thoughts when Rik giggles and gently tugs his shirt. He smiles, a warm, gentle smile reserved for only those who truly meant the world to him. He bundles Rik up and takes him outside to play in the snow. Both men are mortified when their baby wakes up the next day with a horrible fever. Moomin is livid. “What were you thinking? Months of keeping him inside, keeping him warm, you’re home for less the a day and he’s sick! Why do you only ever think of yourself??” There is a pause, they both know he isn’t just talking about Rik. Snufkin feels disgusted with himself (so does Moomin) and he quietly asks, “Do you want me to leave Songbird?” Their pet name, a bridge, a branch to forgiveness. “Do whatever you want, Snufkin.” The bridge was burnt, the branch used to light the fire. Moomin was not yet ready to forgive, and when Snufkin really does leave for the rest of the winter, stretching into summer, Moomin doesn’t know if he ever will be.
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spheresr4cubes · 1 year
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Here, have a fanfic
LINK: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14216768/1/Long-Time-Gone
Moomin Valley -- Long Time Gone
Nuuska (Snufkin) finally meets his father and hears the strange tale of what kept him away for sixteen long years. //TW: Dissociation, alcohol, drowning.
CHAPTER ONE (1/4)
            The bright springtime sun shone dappled through the old oak, the light dancing across the green grass with every breeze. Despite having awaken from his deep winter sleep only yesterday, Mumintroll found himself drifting off with the reedy music playing from the branches above him, and he breathed a deep sigh of contentment.
            It had been easier to hibernate this year, he felt, with Nuuska’s promise that he’d return with the spring—not an assurance per usual, but a promise. Mumintroll smiled and idly touched the acorn pendant he now kept around his neck—nothing could break the absolute peace he felt right now.
            The harmonica stopped suddenly.
            “Hallo,” said Nuuska, sitting up from his branch. “Who’s that?”
            Mumintroll sat up and looked out from the shade of their tree. Far off, over the knolls, three people he did not recognize were running full-speed toward Muminhouse. From what he could see—one was tall and round and wore a purple sweater, one was short with floppy brown ears, and one was thin with a blue coat and a pointed red hat—
            Nuuska scrambled down from the tree, falling on Mumintroll as he did. Mumintroll caught him and let him go as he apologized quickly and ran off.
            “What is it?” he asked, getting up to follow. “Do you know them?”
            The windows and doors of Muminhouse were wide open, letting the fresh air in. Muminmama had left the laundry basket outside, interrupted in taking the sheets down from the lines. Laughing and shouting could be heard from out in the yard as Nuuska ran in through the front door, skipping the steps, and skidded to a stop with Mumintroll sliding into him.
            Muminmama, Muminpapa, and the three strangers went quiet as they turned to them. Mama covered her mouth in glee, and Papa grabbed the arm of the thin man to push him forward. He looked as if he didn’t know what to do with himself, standing completely still, wide-eyed, still breathing hard from running. Nuuska, Mumintroll realized with some amusement, stood exactly the same.
            Finally, the thin man took off his hat and held it guiltily to his chest. His black curls stood every which way, and there were deep bags under his reddened eyes.
            “Do you know me?” he asked, and his voice was all too familiar.
            Nuuska nodded very slowly, and he hesitantly put out a hand. The thin man did not move as he lightly touched one arm. Then the other. He was solid. He was real.
            “Papa,” Nuuska whispered.
            The thin man nodded, and Nuuska immediately threw his arms around him.
            “You’re alive!” he said, incredulous, into his boney shoulder. “You’re alive!”
            Everyone finally breathed, laughing to themselves, holding each other’s shoulders. Papa wiped a stray tear from his eye, and Mama reached out to Mumintroll, motioning outside.
            “Go and find Sniff,” she said cheerfully. “Tell him his father is back, too!”
            Muminpapa listened as Fredriksson, the tall man in the purple sweater, explained enthusiastically over sandwiches: “The engine would run on clean fire, first of its kind. Normally, I might burn something like gas, something that doesn’t make soot, but I needed something better, yes? So I wanted to get the Muddler there and—”
            Mama handed him a sweet tea, and he thanked her kindly and continued on about his ship to Papa, who took his tea with only a slight glance of overwhelm to Mama. She patted his cheek and said nothing.
            “What’re these?” asked the Muddler curiously, toying with the bright rings in Sniff’s ears. “They’re very shiny.”
            Sniff had grown quite a bit over the wintertime, and his paws were quite large compared to his father’s: “The Snorkmaiden and I went on a trip over winter! She said I was the only one who understood ‘her heart’s only true love’, and she really wanted to go into the city and get her ears pierced, so I promised I would, too, even if it scared me a little.”
            Mama handed them their sweet teas, and the Muddler beamed up at her from under the floppy brown fur on his head: “Thanks, Mumintyttö! Gosh, you’re as pretty as ever!”
            “Oh, stop it,” Mama giggled. “I’m not exactly a little girl anymore.”
            “No, but I think your age suits you – don’t you, Sniff?”
            Sniff looked awkwardly up from where he’d stuck his snout into his glass: “Uh, sure! I guess!”
            “Anyways… tell me more about this Snorkmaiden. Does she collect rings like that?”
            Mama turned away, still grinning, and held out the last three glasses of tea on the tray to Mumintroll and Nuuska on the window bench seat. She cast a confused glance around. Both the boys motioned under the bench, and she bent down to look. Two big, blue eyes peered back out.
            “Would you like some sweet tea, Mumrikpapa?” she asked politely.
            “If you don’t mind,” Juksu said, and he reached out to take the last glass. There were pale scratches through the dark, downy fur on the back of his hand and wrist, and Mama could see the outline of his bones quite clearly.
            “Goodness,” said Mama under her breath, then asked aloud, “Wouldn’t you like a sandwich? We have plenty.”
            “No, that’s alright.”
“What about some stew? I have the pot on already for dinner, if you—”
“No, no, I’m not very hungry and certainly wouldn’t want to interrupt your day any further.”
            “Not at all, dear! We’re very happy to see you again after so long.”
            To this, Juksu did not immediately reply. His eye twitched as he slowly asked, “How… how long has it been, Tyttö?”
            Mama glanced up at the boys, who were listening curiously.
            “Well, let’s see,” said Mama. “The last letter we received was the summer after Mumintroll was born… so that would be about sixteen years ago now.”
            There was no reply for a long moment.
            “Sixteen years?” Juksu asked, sounding ill. “Sixteen years?”
            Mama realized the rest of the room had fallen silent: “Yes, I’m afraid so.”
            He began to mutter to himself, his nose twitching angrily, and Mama watched as he pulled himself out from under the short side of the bench seat like a cat, hurried to his feet, and circled the room agitatedly before walking straight out of the open front door. The Muddler stared worriedly after him, then looked back at Fredriksson, who shook his head.
            “Sorry,” he said. “He’s been a bit—well, a bit since we left that Gotoran town. It’s best just to leave him be.”
            Nuuska looked out the window behind him, watching his father pace about and scratch his head and talk to himself. He suddenly got the distinct feeling that he might bolt away at any moment, off into the woods, never to return… again.
Mumintroll patted his hand. Nuuska turned to him, and Mumintroll motioned his head out the window: Go on. Nuuska squeezed his paw and got up, leaving his tea behind and retrieving both his hat and the red one from the pegs beside the door as he went.
Juksu stuck his hands in the cool river water and immediately regretted it. There was thunder in his ears, the creaking and cracking of wooden boards, and the burning of salt water in his nose. And then suddenly, there was his hat on his head and the sun on his back and the singing of birds again.
Nuuska sat down on the grassy bank beside him, and they were silent for a long moment, watching the water.
“How far was it?” Nuuska finally asked.
Juksu glanced at him guiltily, and answered very quietly, “Not far enough.”
It was only after another long silence that he ashamedly clarified, “For the time, I mean. Not far enough for how long it took. How long…”
Nuuska said nothing, looking him over. He didn’t remember his father very clearly, but he was sure he’d never looked so small. So defeated. He made up his mind and stood, tapping Juksu’s arm idly as he did: “Come on. We’re being watched.”
Juksu turned to look back at the house and saw a particular brown, fuzzy head duck back through the front door. He sighed and stood and followed Nuuska south into the forest.
The mound where the dead imp tree had once stood was now empty, had been for years, and was instead covered in berry bushes and a few flowers that enjoyed the sparse light. Nuuska moved aside a large stone from over the hole where the tree had grown, and Juksu, even in the haze he’d been carrying, gave a snort. In the hole was a square bottle of rye whiskey.
“I’ve never tried it,” Nuuska said, pulling it out and dusting it off. “To be honest, I was saving it, but—”
“What for?” Juksu asked with a hit of mischief.
Nuuska’s cheeks went pink as he idly touched the collar of his overcoat: “Nothing important. Here, let’s open it.”
They peeled the red wax around the cork and popped it with a satisfying toomp!
“Well, go on,” said Juksu with a keen smile. “First sip, go on.”
            Nuuska sniffed the mouth of the bottle, and the vapors stung his nose. Nonetheless, there was a smell like pine and honey and something else that was bitter. He took a sip. It wasn’t all that bad at first, smooth and delicious, but once he swallowed it, the vapors rose in his throat, and he coughed as he breathed them in. Juksu chuckled and patted his back.
            “What’s the matter?” he joked. “You mean you’re not the whiskey type?”
            Nuuska cleared his throat and handed the bottle off to him: “I only got it as a gift. I don’t really drink.”
            “Well, I certainly do, so let’s see…”
            Juksu took a long drink from the bottle and sighed as if he were breathing fire. His shoulders visibly dropped, relaxing: “Oh, this is an old Dunsinane, isn’t it. You’ve been back there?”
            Nuuska lifted an eyebrow: “It says what it is on the label.”
            “Oh, I can’t read,” Juksu said casually, looking at the dark green label nonetheless. “I guess they’ve changed the label since I—well, since the last time we were there.”
            “ ‘We’?”
            “We,” repeated Juksu as he took another long sip. He stared down at the bottle again. “I didn’t see the saloon there, last week. Just some shop.”
            Nuuska shrugged, sitting in the cool grass of the little hill: “The owner sold it a while ago. But the local farmer keeps a few barrels stewing. Same recipe, she said.”
            Juksu hummed thoughtfully and sat, too, passing the bottle. Nuuska took another sip, this one easier. He wondered how long it would take for it to work its magic. The answer: not long.
            “So,” he finally asked, feeling a little less timid, “what happened?”
            Juksu sighed heavily and bit at his lip: “Well… it’s hard to explain.”
            “As I recall, you’re a good storyteller,” said Nuuska flatly. “It can’t be that hard.”
            Still, his father hesitated, reaching to take the bottle again. Nuuska held it out of reach and tilted his chin at him as he continued: “I went looking for you every winter, you know. All the places I could remember us going, wondering if you’d magically show up there again. I would like an explanation.”
            “And you deserve one,” Juksu admitted. He flexed his fingers in the direction of the bottle, and Nuuska sighed, handing it over. Juksu took a slow sip and did not look at his son. “I was hoping you’d be too small to remember anything, once I realized how long it’d been. We were only supposed to be gone for a few weeks at most. It was supposed to be fun.���
            He looked up into the speckled canopy above them, the sunlight dim and cool and calm as it filtered through the leaves.
            “Fredriksson happened to find us a few days before the boat was set to leave…”
*
            A radio sitting on the bar counter played staticky bossa nova at a low volume, and the summer beyond the window by their table was hot and bright. Juksu was helping little Nuuska hold his lemonade glass as he drank, when someone came through the front door behind them and walked straight to their table.
            “Well, I’ll be damned. Is that you?”
            “Fredriksson!” Juksu said excitedly, standing. “Long time, no see!”
            The two embraced, and Fredriksson held him out at arm’s length to get a good look at him, a smirk lifting the glasses perched on his nose: “Been tucking into the good bread, have we?”
            “Rich coming from you, old man,” Juksu joked and good-naturedly patted his chubby cheek. “C’mon, sit down! I’ll buy you a drink. What are you doing here, anyway?”
            “Hold on—” he pointed to the child “—who’s that?”
            Juksu snorted and patted his son’s shoulder: “Nuuska, can you say hello to our friend?”
            Nuuska sat back a bit, observing the strange man on the other side of the table in that way that toddlers do, before suspiciously complying: “Hullo.”
            Fredriksson grinned: “Hello! Say… doesn’t he look a bit like Mymble?”
            “I should hope so,” said Juksu, pulling his pipe from his pocket. “Otherwise, I’d be very confused.”
            “You… you don’t say.”
            Fredriksson looked between the little one, who was still staring, and his old friend, who was contentedly lighting his tobacco. Juksu caught met his eye and raised an eyebrow.
            “What?”
            “Nothing! Nothing, just, um… well, I never took Mymble as the type.”
            “What type?”
            “None in particular. Nevermind.”
            “Hm.”
Juksu puffed his smoke and sat back comfortably. The bartender, a rather rotund gentleman with an impressive mustache, called over to ask if they needed anything, and Fredriksson ordered a brandy.
“I thought you didn’t drink,” Juksu commented.
“Lately, I do. It’s unfortunate, but it’s all I can do to keep from bludgeoning my bosses.”
His brandy was brought, and he took a long drink, followed by a long sigh.
“Cheers,” said Nuuska plainly.
“Cheers,” said Fredriksson.
Juksu tilted his own glass, amused.
“So,” he asked, “what brings you all the way out here? I thought you had that contract thing with—”
            “I do,” interrupted Fredriksson uncomfortably, thumbing the lip of his glass. “I do, but uh… I’ve hit a creative wall. Granite and marble and all that is fine, very fine material, and all the swoops and arches, but—oh, I miss being a proper engineer.”
            “Why not do some engineering then?”
            “They don’t want it. It’s all architecture and art nouveau in the cities, never the… the… oh, I don’t know the word for it.” He sighed pitifully. “I don’t want to call it a mid-life crisis.”
            “Then don’t,” said Juksu. “It’s just a wall, like you said. Maybe you need a vacation, do some relaxing, then you can hop back to it.”
            “Well, that’s one of the reasons I’m here.” Fredriksson leaned across the table conspiratorially and lowered his voice. “I have a side project, but it needs a little something special. Something I can’t get my hands on by myself.”
            Juksu’s ears perked: “Oh?”
            “Now, if you’re interested, I’m not saying it’s dangerous or exciting, but—”
            “I’m in.”
            Fredriksson blinked: “I didn’t even say what it was.”
            “And?” asked Juksu, grinning. “I can’t use any excuse for a heist with an old buddy?”
            “Ha… it’s not a heist, my boy. And two old buddies, actually.”
*
            Muddler carefully painted the last bit of white into the face of his mermaid “figurehead” on the bow of the ship. He was hanging upside-down from the bowsprit post by his tail and humming to himself with his tongue sticking out. Fredriksson and Juksu exchanged an amused glance before calling up, “Ahoy there!”
            Muddler startled and dropped his brush, the tip painting his nose as it fell. But for the moment, he didn’t care. A huge smile burst across his face: “You’re here!”
            He clambered up on-deck, set down his paint can, and slid down the port-side ladder to throw his arms around Juksu’s shoulders. It was only when he found a small foot against his forehead that he pulled away: “Oh! Sorry, sorry, I didn’t see you up there!”
            Nuuska stared blankly down from his perch, holding on to Juksu’s hat. Muddler peered up at him, then down at Juksu, then up, then down, and gasped.
            “Excuse me, but who—?”
            “Don’t tell me you’re surprised, too.”
            “I mean… a little? Is he coming, too?”
            Juksu hadn’t thought of that. He looked to Fredriksson, who shrugged.
 “He could, I suppose… but maybe I’d better tell you what we’re doing first.”
They all climbed up the ladder to the deck. The ship was painted red, just as the old Oshun Oxtra had been, trimmed with a nice bright white. She was a little fatter, for lack of a better term, and two white-painted waterwheels sandwiched her on either side. Juksu put Nuuska down, and Fredriksson retrieved a rolled map from within the stocky little pilothouse, laying it out on the warm deck. Each of them held a corner to keep it from re-rolling.
“We’re up here,” Fredriksson explained, pointing to a thin blue line cutting through green. “The island is over here.”
He slide his finger north across the parchment, tapping a green splotch in the center of a wide bay. A chevron with three exclamatory lines at the top was drawn on to it.
“A volcano?” squeaked the Muddler. “Is that a volcano?”
“Yes, the whole island is a volcano. But—”
“Will it erupt?!”
“If you’d let me finish—no, it will not. It’s been dormant for centuries and not likely to blow anytime soon. Now... we’re going to moor here—” he tapped the island “—on the northeast side of the island so we don’t draw too much attention.”
“Attention from who?” asked Juksu with a keen twinkle in his eye.
“Well, um… the witch who lives there. She might not take too kindly to us being there. But that’s why I have you two!”
“Oh?”
“Muddler, worst-case scenario, you’re the distraction.”
“Why me?!” Muddler whined, pulling both ears hard. Fredriksson patted his hands down, lest he pull them off his head.
“Because Muminpeikko couldn’t come,” he said comfortingly. “But with big, innocent eyes like yours? Let’s be honest, it’s a lot harder to stay mad at you, compared to others.”
He side-eyed Juksu, who grinned, and continued: “And since you’re the best at squeezing into places, Juksu, you’ll get the gemstone itself.”
“Where exactly am I squeezing into?” Juksu asked through his food.
“Old lava tubes. They lead directly to the heart of the volcano. Based on my research, there shouldn’t be any magma in them at all.”
“Shouldn’t?”
“Shouldn’t.”
“And if there is?”
“Well,” said Fredriksson, rubbing the back of his neck, “then we had a lovely vacation on the new boat. And that’s that.”
Juksu and Muddler exchanged glances, Juksu raising his eyebrows at him. Muddler sighed and shook off his nerves: “Okay! I already promised anyway.”
“I’m in,” said Juksu.
“I’m in,” repeated Nuuska, pointing to the map.
Fredriksson patted his little head and clapped his hands: “Right then! We’ll be off first thing tomorrow morning!”
*
Juksu tucked Nuuska into his bedroll to sleep. The night was still beyond the tent, the springtime crickets only just trying their songs.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said plainly. “I’m not sure you should come on the ship with us.”
“Why?” asked Nuuska, frowning.
“Well, you heard what we’re doing. A volcano can be very dangerous, and frankly, you are very small and squishy. I would feel better if you stayed behind.”
Nuuska’s big, dark eyes bored into his, and he grasped Juksu’s fingers: “You stay, too.”
“I want to help my friends though. And it won’t be long. Don’t you think you could be a big boy for a couple weeks? I bet you could.”
“I’ll be sad.”
“Then how about this—” Juksu settled on to the tent floor beside him, one hand propping his head, one on Nuuska’s chest “—when I get back, we can go up the Lonely Mountain together and finally see those Big Lights I told you about.”
Nuuska’s face lit up, and he nodded excitedly.
“That sounds good?”
“Yes!”
“Alright then,” said Juksu. “It’s a deal.”
*
“I left you with a family in town,” said Juksu, beginning to slur. “Real nice people. Good people.”
Nuuska nodded: “I remember.”
Juksu took a sip from the bottle: “When did you leave?”
“When I was six. I lied and told them I’d heard you wanted to meet me somewhere. Really, I just wanted to get out, wander a bit.”
“It’s in your blood, I suppose, but… I hope it wasn’t hard on you.”
“Ha,” Nuuska laughed lowly, “it was, but only for a year or so. Then, I met Moomintroll and Sniff and ended up here most of the year.”
“What a funny coincidence. Almost ‘serendipitous’, I think is the word.”
“There’s no such thing as coincidence,” Nuuska said sagely. “Only fate.”
“Is that a quote from somewhere?” Juksu asked.
“It’s a long story. Let’s finish yours first.”
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sicpvon · 2 years
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guys it's official, I have fankid brain rot, it's incurable </3
I already posted her story on ao3 but if you haven't checked it out yet it's underneath <3
🌹🌹🌹
The Forest was very different at night. Familiar paths that I’ve walked were now cold, dark and strange. I can’t tell if the chill going through my bones is from the air or the adrenaline previously going through me. 
My legs feel like they're either about to give in or fall off entirely, and I’m starting to notice the aches of bruises forming from before I managed to breach the forest line. I had never seen my father so angry before. Even thinking back on it now makes my body shiver. 
There's still piles of snow everywhere. Spring is yet to come. I need to find a place to sleep before frostbite takes hold. I can already feel the bite on my fingers.  Sticking them under my armpits is the best I can do for them right now. The coat I grabbed on my way out isn't the thickest, but I didn't have the nerve to get anything else. 
My eyes burn from all the tears I shed when I first left. Pausing just for a moment made me realize how tired I am. I had been walking for who knows how long, nonstop. I can’t see the path before me. 
My legs are throbbing as they try to keep me upright. I want to turn back and just go home, to apologize for saying anything at all. But fathers words still ring through my head. And here, alone on a dirt path in the dead of night, it hits me that I have nowhere to go. No relatives to take me in. No friends that’ll care for me. 
Taking a deep breath in, the cold bites me as it goes through my throat. My eyes are burning again from unshed tears. All I can smell is the cold in the air and the snow on the ground. And smoke. 
I can smell smoke… which means that someone out here has a fire set. At least that's what I hope. 
With renewed energy, I veer off the path and towards what I hope is a campsite. 
🌹
The campsite was small, but it looked like they knew what they were doing. There was only one tent for the only person in the camp. He was whittling away at a piece of wood. I desperately want to get closer to the fire and warm up, but I'm now thinking that asking a complete stranger in the woods to sit by their fire might not be the best idea. But what other choice do I have? I could just freeze to death. Or continue walking until someone takes pity- 
“It’s quite rude to stare, you know.” 
Oh boy. He was talking to me, wasn’t he? Maybe he wasn’t! These are all sorts of creatures in the forest. Maybe if I just stay very, very still he’ll think I left. 
Okay okay he's looking at me now. What- oh, yes. Night eyes. Some people have night eyes. Of course. 
It took a few seconds of shuffling in place before I could finally come out from behind the foliage that protected most of his view of me. Something about him visibly softened when I fully emerged. I know I must look like a mess. 
The Snufkin adjusted his old green hat higher on his head, revealing more of his face, “Are you lost?” 
I walk closer to the fire before nodding, because to be truthful I am lost, just maybe not in the way he's referring to. Also because I'm scared he’ll shoo me away if I say I am not, and this is the only source of warmth for miles as far as I can tell. 
The Snufkin didn’t say anything for a few moments. Just looking at me from where he sat. Then he set the wood he’d been whittling down along with his knife. 
He shrugged off the blanket that had been draped over his shoulders and extended his hand to give it to me. I thought I was dreaming for a moment as he did. It wasn’t until he shaked the blanket slightly that I snapped out of it. 
I quickly took the blanket and wrapped it around myself. It was a wonderful comfort to finally have after what a horrid night it has been. The blanket was still warm from the Snufkin’s body heat. It smells like smoke from the campfire and thick, old wool. 
“Do you have a name?” The Snufkin asks as I sit down on the log next to him. 
I open my mouth to answer, but then I shut it. I had never quite felt comfortable wearing the name my family gave me. And now I had no family, and therefore no obligation to keep a name I didn't like. So what is my name? Do I have a name? Who am I? 
“... Do you know where you’re supposed to be?” The Snufkin quietly asked, so quietly I almost didn't hear. 
I looked him in the eye and I could see the clear worry in them. 
“No,” I didn't realize how sore my throat was until I spoke. It felt like someone had taken sandpaper to the sides as I hoarsely forced the word out. 
“Do you have anywhere to go?” the Snufkin softly pressed. 
And with that, all the tears that I thought I stopped shedding were coming right back up. My eyes were burning. My throat was raw. My entire body aches and I have nowhere to go. The sob rips through my body before I can stop it. 
All I can do is sit there as I hiccup and cry over again. The snufkin doesn’t say anything, He just rubs my back and lets me sob. It’s the nicest thing any adult has done for me in years. 
🌹
There was a beautiful dress on display at this town's tailor. It was a lovely faux silk, and light blue like the sky. In the skirt and collar of the dress were small embroidered white flowers. I can’t tell what kind of flowers but they all looked different from one another. 
“Do you want the dress?”
Snufkin's voice shocked me back into focus. We’re in a local town for some supplies. After explaining my situation to him he offered to take me to a place called Moominvalley, where he says people can help me find a new home. 
“Oh- uhm, no! No not at all. That’s silly.” I rushed out. I don’t want to lose my chance at getting a new home just because I can’t stop admiring a dress. No matter how pretty the stitch work is. 
Snufkin- yes he is called Snufkin, he says he chooses not to have a name- Just looks a bit bewildered for a second. He looks back at the dress and then back at me, his expression slipping back into the unreadable one he usually wears. 
“Well I suppose it isn’t very good winter wear.” He says.
I stand up straighter, thankful he hasn’t caught on, “right, yeah, winter.” 
I walked off to some stands that had what I think are promising goods, and hope the talk is forgotten about. But when I woke up the next day there was a much more appropriate winter dress next to my pillow. 
It was a little big on me, and the fabric was worn out a bit. However when I left the tent with it on, the only thing Snufkin said was that he’d show me how to properly patch the holes in it after breakfast. 
🌹
There were books at the tavern we were staying at. Bookcases full of them, and the owner said that I could read any of them as long as I put them back after I was done. It reminds me of when me and my old family would travel to my grandfather's house and it would be full of so many kinds of books. 
The book that caught my eye was leather covered, and I couldn't quite figure out what was going on. But it was nice to go along with the characters in their journey. Spring was fast approaching and according to Snufkin we were a week away from Moominvalley. 
For now, though, we were nestled in this tavern to rest after a hard day of walking. The fire was large here and the seats were comfortable. Snufkin had also picked up a book, something smaller with a fabric cover. 
“That’s my daughters favorite book,” 
I blick, snapping out of the story I was deep in, “you have a daughter?”
Snufkin smiles at me and nods, “She’s just shy of a year younger than you i believe, my son is about two or so years older than you then.” 
“Do they stay with their mother in the winter?”
“They hibernate with their father and grandparents,” Snufkin pauses and bites down on his unlit pipe for a moment, the owner said there was no smoking inside, “Or at least they try to. My partner says they have my wandering spirit. I think he’s covering for the fact he passed on his habit of waking in the dead of winter.” 
I smile and stare at him for a second. He rubs his finger against the cover of his book while he holds his pipe in his mouth. He looks deep in thought before his eyes snap up to meet mine. I jump and try to think of something to say. 
“Do you miss them while you travel?” I end up saying. 
Snufkin's smile turns into something sad, and he sets his pipe down. 
“Yes, I do. All the time. One of the hardest parts is leaving them, but if I ignore my own need to travel then it’ll only get worse, and  I'll be gone for much longer than I could stand.” 
“Why don’t you take them with you? That would make things easier.”
“Well, yes it would, but they are just children.” Snufkin tells me with a sad tone in his voice. “The way I travel is tough on others, I do it so that I can be totally alone and only have myself to care for. With the children it’s complicated, they have a need to hibernate, even for just a month or two. Staying in Moominvalley is safest for them, but it still breaks my heart every winter.” 
Snufkin shakes his head slightly, “I’m sorry, i shouldn’t have dumped all of that on you,”
“It’s fine! I don’t mind.”
“Maybe not, but you’re just a child still. You have your own worries to care for.” 
Well, I guess this conversation won’t go any further. I look back down at my book as Snufkin does the same. The world of characters hasn’t changed and finding my place isn’t hard at all. But I can't seem to dive back into the book like before. There's a burning question at the forefront of my mind. 
“Did you adopt them?” 
Snufkin blinks back at me, surprised. “Hm?”
“Your kids, did you adopt them?”
“Oh- ah, no. We didn’t.” Snufkin closed his book, having one of his fingers hold his place, “They’re ours.” 
I squinted at him in confusion, “How do you mean?”
Snufkin squinted back at me, “What do you mean “how do you mean?”I gave birth to them and my partner was the father, that makes them ours.” 
It’s my turn to blink in surprise at him. Instead of questioning him further like I deeply wanted to, I just went back to reading. I assume snufkin did the same but I didn’t look up to check. I just kept thinking about how he seemed to be sure of who he is. 
Instead of diving back into the book like I intended, my eyes drifted to the painting next to me. It was of a lady fillyjonk, posed to be draped over a lounge couch and wearing the most beautiful dress. It was a deep orange color that matched the setting sun in the window of the painting. It was like the sky was bleeding into her frame. 
All I knew at that moment was that I wanted that. It may have been the dress or the figure or the body I wanted, but all of it combined was something truly magical. And when I imagined myself as her, it felt so right. 
🌹
“C’mon, we’re almost there!”
“You have been saying that for the past three hours! Are we actually or are you lying to me?”
Snufkin laughs like I'm joking, but my legs are aching! We have just crossed the lonely mountains only 2 days ago and I can still feel the burn they have given my muscles. 
“I promise, we’re only a few minutes way from Moominhouse,”
Snufkin has much more pep in his step than our entire journey, which I suppose is understandable. I just hope that the people of the valley are as accepting as Snufkin is. I do have to say, the valley is lovely. What flowers that have bloomed are vibrant and the trees seem to sing with the wind. I would love to stay here. 
Without saying a word to me, Snufkin pulled out his harmonica. He did mention something about a spring tune. As Snufkin plays, it’s like a story being told. With highs and lows and happy notes and sad notes. The plants seem to lean towards Snufkin as he plays, and it’s even more beautiful than anything I could describe. 
His song ends when we finally leave the tree line, and there are a few people waiting at a bridge nearby. A Moomin fellow comes towards us running. I’m almost alarmed but then Snufkin throws his bag off and runs towards him as well. Ah, so that’s his partner. 
The Moomin sweeps him off his feet and into a hug, spinning him around before putting him back on his feet to nuzzle his face. The other two figures come running up to them, Snufkin separates from the Moomin to hug the other two. He gives them both a kiss on the forehead as they talk. 
It wasn’t until the Moomin turned to my direction that they finally took notice of me. And all of the sudden I'm not very sure of this any more. Oh boy. 
The other two quiet down and Snufkin lets them go, and instead reaches out for me to join them. I shuffle close to his side as the others regard me quietly. 
“I found them on my travels, they’re in need of a new home and a new family.” Snufkin told the others
The moomin was the first to speak, “well then! I believe greetings are in order. I’m Moomintroll, may I ask you your name?”
I look at Snufkin, who smiles at me and nods. So I took a deep breath, looked Moomintroll in the eyes, and finally said, “My name… Is Mary-Elizabeth.” 
Instead of laughing at me like I had feared, Moomintroll smiled at me.
“It is very nice to meet you, Mary-Elizabeth! I hope you enjoy your stay in Moominvalley, you'll fit right in."
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h2oblooky · 2 years
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Hey, I saw your Writing Prompt #3 for snufmin and it got me to write for the first time in over a year, and, albeit not much, I wanted to share what I had written before loosing my creativity again. It's meant to kind of be read in the style that the narrator from the 90s version spoke in. There are errors, be warned lol. I hope it's as fun to read as it was to make, albeit it doesn't include all the parts in your Prompt.
The sun was setting in moominvalley, burning hot on the early summer horizon. Down by the lake was Moomin, and his boyfriend Snufkin.
The day had been spent,  in part, apart from one another,  as snufkin was busy fishing, and Moomin was talking with some friends. A few moments after the sun had reached its Zenith was when Moomin had found Snufkin, and since then they had been at the lake.
"So, I have a question, Snufkin." Moomintroll asked, looking at the setting sun and fixing his posture to be more upright.
"What of, Moomin?" Snufkin answered, removing the hat he had laid on his face moments before to look at Moomin while they chatted. Yet his eyes could not capture Moomintrolls, as his were fixed on the lake's edge.
"Do you... Do you think this would be a great place to propose to someone?" The question pierced the air, running through Snufkins mind; causing quite a bit of chaos too. 
"It depends on the people." He answered, placing his hat back over his face to cover up the growing paleness. Surely Moomin wasn't thinking of this? Marriage is a serious concern: a serious cage. There was no doubt in Snufkin's mind that Moomintroll had heard the startle in his voice.
"Hm. Is proposing the same way, or is there a proper way to propose?" Moomintroll asked, seemingly unfazed by the change in Snufkin's tone; either unfazed, or unnoticing.
"I don't know, Moomintroll." He said, as calmly as he could. "I do know that I should be heading off now: Must be up extra early so I don't miss the sunrise tomorrow."
"Right, of course." Moomintroll said, his eyes unwavering. "I'll be here a while longer, ok Love?"
"Of course." Replied Snufkin, gathering himself and trying not to run as he walked away. If Moomin were to turn around, he'd see that Snufkin wasn't heading towards his tent, but instead towards the forest, wherein he knew that Joxter was.
As snufkin traveled deeper and deeper into the depths of the moominvalley forest, light from the sun dwindled away, and if it were not for the campfire shining faintly in the distance, snufkin would have surely been lost.
In the forest, deep in its retreat, was The Joxter. Father of Snufkin, Little My, and Husband of The Mymble.
The footsteps were soft and delicate, but the trained ear of Joxter knew they were there, but made no move out of the relaxing position he had found himself in. His own hat laying over his face.
"Joxter, we must talk." Stated snufkin, although his voice would sound collected and unbothered, the emotions of Joxter's children never go unheard when he is in earshot.
Sensing the tension, Joxter motioned for him to sit down by the fire, taking the hat off his face and sitting it back on his head as he sat upright. The simple, yet attentive gesture was comforting for Snufkin, as he told his father his concerns. 
"I think Moomintroll wants to marry me, but... I'm not ready. Not now, and not ever. I need my freedom like I need my air, and I love moomintroll. There's no better Moomin to be found, but," as he continued, the calm facade began to slip away, his voice changing in pitch and his posture adjusting likewise.  "I don't think I can give up that part of myself in the name of love. It would be to deny myself love: a personal kind. Moomins fantastic, but has never been truly able to grasp my necessity for freedom and I hope he doesn't think that marriage will make me change."
Joxter stretched out his arms and legs in one large movement, rattling them as he yawned before smiling at his son.
"Am I here?" Joxter asked. The Question was so rhetorically that, momentarily,  all thoughts seized in Snufkins mind. Joxter didn't pay the confusion any mind, letting out another yawn.
"Yes, I dont," snufkin took a deep breath, becoming increasingly bothered. "I don't understand what you mean."
"I am here," Joxter answered. "And yet, I am married also. I think you are thinking too much. Marriage is Personal, just like our freedom, and a True Love will not demand the sacrifice of one form of love in the name of another. If your Moomin really is all you tell me to be, then you should know that Marriage is a new form of freedom. A freedom you have together. Mymble and I have been married some time, and I find myself more free now than before we were married." Joxter laid back down, covering his eyes with his hat as he continued.
"I know that my absence doesn't strain her heart in a way that she would wish to find someone new. I understand now just exactly what she meant when she said she loved me unconditionally back when we first began dating. Though,  a little tip, should you marry this Moomin, be sure not to use something you hunted as an engagement piece."
Snufkin thought long and hard about his father's words. For a while it was only the fire that voiced out any thoughts. Crackling and hissing as it began to dwindle into embers. By the time Snufkin was ready to speak, Joxter was snoring. And so Snufkin laid down by the embers, waiting on the next day to come.
This took forever to respond too, but omg, this is amazing! Honestly way better then I could have imagined.
I'm happy that the prompt got you to write!! This is really well written and I just couldn't stop fangirling over this for daaaaaaays! ❤️❤️
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crysiemoomin · 2 years
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i really like the joxter (after reading Moominpapa’s Memoirs) and I don’t really like portrayals of him abandoning Snufkin, its highly possible that he didn’t know Snufkin existed, I doubt he’d be that good of a father since hes basically just lazy, but i dont know. Depictions of him being abusive also just really make me feel bad
no one talks about that he came back in the end of the book and hugged snufkin tho 
More wholesome joxter and snufkin pls
I’m not gatekeeping how people can write him tho, depict him however u want for u!! im just saying how i feel!
Also I would like more wholesome Mymble and Snufkin where
and Moominpapa and snufkin
snufkin could have two dads no one talks about that
i know moominpapa didnt exactly raise him tho and thatd be kinda weird if u ship snufmin like i do
but wholesome bonding of them, since hes the only knowledge he has of his real father, since theyre both adventurers
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dragonsmooch · 1 year
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Losing Water In the River (part 2)
Finder & the Moominhouse, in the style of Moominvalley (2019), ~537 words
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“So what’re you supposed to find?”
The question was posed by young Moomintroll, from a place of genuine curiosity with a hint of disbelief. There were quite a number of strange things in the valley, but well, it was always healthy to ask a few questions here or there.
This inquiry was directed towards the individual on the Moomin house’s sofa. A face he had never seen before - and only partially saw now, as thick shaggy golden fur hung over their eyes like curtains. An old friend, his parents had told him. Funny, neither had mentioned them before. Though he supposed they neglected to mention quite a few things they had gotten up to in their youth. As fond as his father was of tall tales, you couldn’t spin a story out of everything.
“That’s a very good question,” this ‘Finder’ praised. “Anything that has been lost, I suppose.”
He narrowed eyes slightly. Their head, with those big old curly horns, tilted a fraction. Softly, they asked a question of their own: “Do you find that answer rather lacking?” A guess, based on his silence, he figured. They couldn’t really see through that haystack of theirs. (Could they?)
“Here you are, dear,” Moominmama interjected, handing over a teacup.
“Thank you, my friend.”
With a pop, Little My’s head came out of the vase of flowers Moominmama had just set out that afternoon. “Can it find your confidence? Or has that gone out the window long ago?”
Moomintroll gave her a look. She leapt out with a soft cackle, scurrying into the kitchen. Then, with a start, it came to him. Stepping closer, he rested his paws on the stranger’s knees as he begged, “Could you find Snufkin?”
“Snufkin?” Their head straightened, then tipped to the other side. “Is that right?”
“Yes! He, he was with us for the party, but then he just…” Shoulders sank a little. “Disappeared. He… he can’t have gone far, right? Surely you could track him down?”
“I’m no tracker. I’m the Finder.” Straightening again, claws rested over his hands for two gentle pats. “And I only find what’s lost.”
“But… but he is lost!”
“He’s not lost.” This was said with such certainty, it surprised him. “He is exactly where he wants to be.” Fingers squeezed his. Their voice softened, head tilting down as if to look at him. “You simply miss him.”
A beat.
Little My was giggling in the kitchen, doing something to earn Moominpapa’s yelp. His mother sat in a nearby chair, needles quietly moving in neat, tight loops. Tik-tik-tik. A warm, cozy scene. But, not how he had wanted to spend his evening.
He did miss Snufkin.
And that’s why he wanted to find him.
Moomintroll gripped the thick fabric of their cloak. “Fine.” Knees rubbed carpet as he got to his feet. “I’ll find him myself.” He made his way for the door, to step out into the dark, warm summer night. He muttered, sure they couldn’t hear, “Some help you were.”
“Most find me quite helpful actually.”
He paused, searching for a witty response. Failing that, he tightened his fists and descended the porch steps.
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]
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