#dead muddler

[hee-blee-art]

Is Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead a recently discovered interest of yours? I don't think I've seen you talk about it before!

yes, it is! my partner got the opportunity to go see it performed live with dominic monaghan & billy boyd as the titular characters and had lots of lovely things to say about the performance the the show in general, and said they thought I would really like it. so we found the movie version with tim roth & gary oldman and ohhh boy was my partner right lol, it is exactly up my alley and the movie is beautiful. it's been cooking in my brain every since! strong recommendation from me for all tragedy enjoyers as well as silly banter enthusiasts and platonic-romantic muddlers. definitely one of my favorite films now, I have wanted to do fan art for a while now but haven't been able to come up with something that I feel would do the show justice just yet. hopefully soon

[feelo-fick]

Scarab & Prismo & Snufkin & Muddler for the character bingo!

(doesn’t have to be all of these of course. But can be)

I NEED TO KILL SCARAB. ITS A NEED. I NEED HIS BLOOD (<- will weep at any angst including him). HES EVEYTHING HES HORRIBLE HES A WRETCHED THING I HATE HIM HES THE WORST I WILL KISS HIM. AUGH. what the hell.

anyways i find him relatable.. something something vulnerability hard and shit yada yada but ALSO i make weird squawking/squeaky noises when im annoyed and i like to imagine he does that with the chirping... its funny

ALSO THE FANDOM KEEPS MAKING HIM SUFFER AND I LOVE IT AND WANT MORE BUT ALSO OW FUCK THAT HURTS WHY OW OW OW everything about his - concerning - respect (kneel for your life.) for authority (he was only following orders.) and isolation (he was never invited to those parties.) from the rest of. well everyone (he doesnt need them. he enjoys being alone. he doesnt need anyone else. he doesnt want it, he doesnt want it, he promises he doesnt.) is just SO. augh.

and the self sabotaging aspect of it. no one will love you, youve accepted that, so you stop sanding down your teeth. you bite and claw at any attempt to soothe your aches and stroke your spikes down, theyre only trying to find a soft spot near your belly.

your worst fears come true. youll never let it happen again. youll stand straight, youll make yourself seem bigger to scare off anyone who tries to come close to you. which leads to anyone who couldve helped you being dissuaded and backing off. serves them right, you never needed fixing. you never needed anyone. ...the clycle begins again. it aches. why? it shouldnt. that isnt allowed.

they should stop that, stop poking at the weak spots. it hurts to feel. you KNOW its to help. you dont want to be helped. stop it, stop. everyones going to know. they cant know it aches. theyll use it against you. keep kneeling, head lower, arch your back. maybe theyll be amused enough to give you mercy.

...cough. well anyways. im gonna stop here before this turns into a full on character analysis and MOVE ON TO THE NEXT ONEEEE WOO

(youll start to notice a pattern that i express love for characters by wishing to kill them cough)

ANYWAYS MY SECOND HUSBAAND WHOM I WANT DEAD . hes. hes so. i cant.

i honestly love his aesthetic i dont know why. the tv/light/dream shit has a lot of potential methinks. i love the thought of a job swap au where prismo uses light/tech as a way to interact with the world while still being stuck somewhere else... and also the visual funkiness of him being projected onto many many tv screens brings me joy. i want that gender...

also. in general i love it when gods are depicted ss being really mortal-like... like, youre a cosmic being with power and omnipotence over the multiverses you watch over, and yet. you like sandwiches and pools and games and hanging out wih friends and its just. on every level but literal you are mortal and alive and wholly r e a l. but youre not. youre a dream, a projection, youre not even in the dimensions of the people you (love) watch. youre an outsider and its very clear. youre THIS CLOSE to being just like them. but youre not. and you never will be.

youre admired by those who are like you, but you dont really care for it. but those who you do care about either dont see you as anything more than a tool to manipulate the multiverse or see you as too grand to be able to connect with in a way that isnt "you are god and i am not". youre stuck in a prison you yourself control. but a prison is still a prison. people want what you have- how you wished they had it instead of you! maybe then, youd be loved. maybe then, things wouldnt be so ear-deafingly quiet. silence sticks out like a sore thumb in the yearning- the wish to not be alone.

OKAY AM I JUST GONNA DO THIS FOR ALL OF THEM. WHAT THE HELL. MOVING ON.

okay this time im not gonna intensely analyse his character. hopefully.

AHEM . SNUFKIN!!!! my best friend i love him so so much.......... i need to absorb his fucking vibes and gender so hard what the hell. LIKE BROTHER. HOW DO YOU PULL OFF THAT MUCH SWAGGER WITHOUT EVEN TRYING oh and also there are so many things wrong with you are you like okay bud...

i like to think that "omg hes just like me frfr" but the fact that i get so excited about that thought proves that I actually kin moomintroll nsnxjsjjsj WHICH MAKES SENSE. makes a lot of sense

i love how people interpret his personality... and i love seeing all the potential angst/drama/whatever you call it that could pop up because of how avoindant he is... and his relationships with the other characters... the way he so easily distances himself from others while (i know this isnt about him but once you talk deeply about one of them i suppose you cant leave out the other) moomintroll clings a little too hard onto him...

ill be honest im a bit rusty on anything moomin related, so forgive my poor memory + hesitation, but i do love em a lot still!!! no hyperfixation is dead, just dormant, as they say........... havent thought about them in a while but i should really brush up on everyones characters and the way they interact ... would be really helpful for some analysis and application to my own work and- YEAH WHATEVER YOU GET IT NEXT ONE

OKAY SO I HAVENT HEARD TOO MUCH ABOUT MUDDLER (aside from bloom's stuff - bless you bloom) BUT WHAT I DO KNOW IS THAT HES VERY RELATABLE AND FUNKY AND I LOVE HIM FOR THAT... button collector.... so me fr............

im quite neutral on account of the fact that (again) i havent seen much of him, but i think hes really neato and also(!) i actually used him as inspo for my sona design... ITS JUST THAT, his design fucks so hard so so hard its such a good design. PEAK. absolute peak...

IDK ! i think muddler is such a nice and cool little critter... i would love to have more content of him!!! i need to know more about him!!! honestly atp someone could tag me on muddler content id be happy to have it... i think id really really love him if i just knew more(!!!) but i dont unfortunately waaah..

[the-artist-from-hell]

This is art specifically made for my alternate moomins au! (The DM!au specifically!)

Here’s an image of what joxter and fuzzy would look like later in the au around the same time comet in moominland would have taken place!

It took me a while to figure out the outfits for them but I think there fitting! (Fuzzy would have made the clothes for both herself and for joxter! Joxter has the bright primary colors because they look good on him and well he acts silly and playful all the time at least in fuzzys eyes so she thought it would be fitting and fuzzy herself prefers more calm muted colors for her outfits because it helps balance every thing out! (The “scarf” she’s wearing is actually a racoON(or a moomins universe creature close enough to a racoON) pelt, (Joxter got/made the most pelt for her himself.)

[collineato]

THE THEM!!! I love moomins you should watch the moomins right this second

[flowerbloom-arts]

Wowie two redraws of redraws? That's quite something, isn't it? But for real I'm happy to see how I've improved since October 12th 2020 (the day I made the post containing the original redraws) like, aaaaaaaa I'm really proud of these!

Also these two are still EXTREMELY underrated, I wish there was more content of them like fanart/comics or fics like how Joxter and Mymble do, but oh well, I seem to be the only one trying to push a change I want to see in the world of the fandom (and I guess you could say I'm doing a bit of a poor job of it aswell :( )

[vagabond-404]

Muddler? I only know Moodler

[turbonicflaws]

Damn Snufkin’s been gone a while I wonder what he’s up to

[breiffontcollector]

hrmfsfgvh b,,buddies

[littlemystolemypie]

aaaaa them !!! *sobs*

I’m making other characters in the college au would you look at that jhfjkh

no but. I’ve been procrastinating on making the rest of the parents for so long

Anyway, Fuzzy and Muddler are Welsh and own a pawn shop in Spring Valley town. They’re good friends with the Moominfam which is why Sniff and Moom have known each other since they were lil babies. 

Look at the baby bean family :”)

[ambiguouspuzuma]

The Mixologist

There was something magical about being in the city at this time of night. No matter how old she was, Tara had never lost that sense of wonder, stood before the full-length window of her hotel like a pilgrim at the gates of a sacred temple. It didn't matter which city. It didn't matter which night. She pressed her head against the glass, thirty-five floors above street-level, and sank into the distant rhythm of the worshippers below.

She travelled often with her work, but it was always the same. Every city, every night. All of those iconic skylines disappeared into the dusk, leaving behind the constellations in the middle distance: endless columns of sheet-glass stars that vanished slowly as the night ran on, and the golden headlights and neon nebulae that suffused her immediate horizon. They were her landmarks. They were her world.

With days of sleep and transit between jobs, this was the only view she'd ever really got the chance to know. If Tara could ever be said to have a home, it was within the contrast of the lights that painted shadows in the dark, in the darkness which had brought those gleaming signs to life. That was where she lived. Baptised in hard liquor and tobacco smoke, that was where she had been born again.

She'd been working as a waitress in a cocktail bar, a mixologist in training, when they'd recruited her. Her new employers were always on the look out for new agents: they'd picked her out, shaken her up, and turned her into someone new. An assassin. Well, she was still a mixologist, but now she worked for them. They had other agents - sommeliers, air hostesses, private caterers to the stars - but Tara was the rank and file. She served on the front line, serving a special something to whatever marks they sent her way.

Fundamentally, she'd always mostly been a chemist, a changer of states: after years turning sober people into drunk people, now she converted bad people into dead people, albeit with a few more stops along the way. It just took a slight change in the ingredients. With a zester and a jiggler and a muddler, concoctions that bubbled and sparkled and foamed, Tara was used to changing lives every night - one drink at a time. They just taught her how to end them.

Amongst professional mixologists, there had always been those who strove for perfection. Every bar worth its tequila-salt had their own twist on the classics, their own signature numbers with fresh flavours and proportions, and they all wanted to be better than the rest. For some, it was about the show, the tumbler-juggling and the flames that danced across the surface of the drink, but the serious artists were focused on the taste. Their mission was simple: to create the ultimate cocktail. The perfect recipe. The drink to end all drinks.

Her employers had found it. Or one of them had, before the others came aboard - they'd never really told her who, or when, or anything really but the what and the how, the things she needed to know to recreate that discovery for herself. The Muscato, they called it, and Tara didn't know the story behind that either. All she knew was how to make it, when and where she was told. She didn't even know what it tasted like.

That was rule number one of assassin-bartending: don't get tipsy on your own supply. When it came to the Muscato, a moment's indiscretion could be deadly. Whatever the inventor's name, they had quickly learnt the power of their creation, and that it wasn't designed for public consumption. It wasn't that it was too strong, or too heavy on a particular ingredient, or anything like that - only that it wasn't. It was perfectly balanced. It was just too good.

They had hired Tara as an assassin, not to spike her targets' drinks, but to perfect them. The dose she gave was still a form of poison, but it was a slow one, and the symptoms were familiar. Slurred words. Lost co-ordination. Lack of inhibitions. It left her victims shaken, but not quite stirred - at least not right away. After one sip of the Muscato, they were hooked, and couldn't help but come back for a second dose, and a third. Alcoholism was inevitable.

That was the thing about compulsion. Anything could be addictive, if it was beautiful enough. It wasn't about the chemical composition, but the perfection: a person could be addicted to a song, a work of art, a particularly special place, or even another person. They became lost in all manner of obsessions, from wanderlust to philately, and watched on as they consumed the rest of their lives. The Muscato could do that. Tara made sure that it did.

Slowly but surely, she kept the drinks flowing and watched them fall apart. It was an unpredictable collapse, one measured in mangled sports cars and strangled paramours, but they all went off the rails in the end: if their health didn't do for them, their behaviour did. Politicians were torn apart by scandal. Activists drunkenly crashed their cars. Influential writers drank themselves to death. Her employers would send her a list of marks, place her squarely in their path, and leave them to unravel in the bottom of a glass.

They avoided suspicion by moving her around, a shift in one continent followed by a stint in another. Tara spent time in Manhattan, Moscow, Singapore, places that had once only existed on one of her menus, but very little of it during daylight; whatever the timezone, she saw each city only in the dark, when their bars opened and their streets came to life. When they were at their most beautiful.

It was an adjustment, but Tara found that she preferred her new life. Her employers had turned her into a nocturnal animal, one who one who seemed to live her life on the wing, but at least had the chance to see the world like this: the way it was supposed to be. For her, that had been the thing that made this all worthwhile, despite the endless upheaval that made any other life impossible. It was the silver lining to the midnight clouds, the sugar coating on the rim of a glass.

But now, it was all she had left.

After a couple of decades of service, her employers had let her go. She was too old for the hospitality industry, apparently - or too old to be afforded any. But it was too late. Tara had adjusted to this new life: she found it was impossible to go back to living in the sunlight, in a single city, where even the twilight shadows took on an uncomfortable familiarity.

She didn't want to live on a street with a name she knew, and learn the best routes into the centre of town. She'd liked the change, the unknown: the sense of being adrift upon an endless midnight ocean. She missed her home, in that absence of a home. That was the nature of compulsion, Tara realised. Once she'd found where she belonged, it was impossible to go back to anything else.

Anything could become an addiction, if it was beautiful enough - and this was hers. This life. The one they'd taken from her, as she'd helped them to destroy so many others. Well, she wouldn't let them do the same to her. Tara knew the bars where they worked: sooner or later she would track down her replacement, and see that she broke rule number one, in the same way that she'd slipped a dose of nectar into so many other glasses. With the usurper falling to her own medicine, the role would become hers again.

This was just another job, Tara told herself. Her employers had always sent the marks her way, and now they gave her this. They were testing her. She gave one more longing glance to the nightscape out the window, finished her drink, and headed out into the corridor. Yes, that was it. This was all just a test.

[95jezzica]

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.

.

“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.

.

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.

.

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.

.

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.

.

[the-artist-from-hell]

DM!memoirs au Chapter 2

(TRIGGER WARNING! Mention of burial/funeral, and well just over all emotional stuff?)

The boat had been landed for some time before anyone decided to step off...

Joxter, after bawling his eyes out for at least an hour straight and his voice had become hoarse from yelling, had now sat on the floor a small distance away from the cold corpse in simple disbelief, his head pounded from all of this all so suddenly. Moomin sat there with joxter not sure how to... help? How to react? He wasn’t as close to Muddler as Joxter or Hodgkins were of course but he still felt immense remorse and sorrow for the two.

“I... I shouldn’t have let him sleep...” mumbled the Joxter in a quiet, saddened voice.

“Don’t blame yourself, Joxter.” replied the Moomin, hesitantly patting Joxter's back.

Joxter stared at the covered body with a pained look “Maybe if I didn’t let him sleep he would have... He would've still been alive now-“

Moomin cleared his throat anxiously “Joxter... at least he died peacefully... maybe you should come get some fresh air with me outside...?”

“Do you really think right now is the right time? He’s already gone, don’t try to rip me away from him more.”

“I just mean this is unhealthy for you to just... stare... I’m not saying move on right this minute but at least get some air- try to bring yourself together-“

“Moomin, will you just- shut up and leave it be?! Leave ME be! If YOU want to leave then go right ahead! I need... time.”

The Moomin gave a nod, looking down guiltily he slowly left the lower deck of the ship to leave Joxter with his dead lover, he was thinking about checking in on Hodgkins but... He didn't know how Hodgkins would react to being comforted. He stepped out to the top deck of the boat and looked out to the new land they found themselves in, he decided to let down the ramp and get off, take a small walk around to see if he could find anyone to check if this place was inhabited.

Meanwhile the Joxter scooted closer to the Muddler's body partially wanting to uncover his face to see him one last time knowing it wouldn’t be long before he’s unable to see him ever again. Knowing the inevitability of having to bury his best friend, and the first person he had ever truly fallen in love with. he of course couldn't stomach the thought of uncovering his corpse, so he went ahead and held Muddler's cold paw for a moment instead, soon after quickly letting go. The sinking feeling of knowing there was no more life in that body... in the body that was once a living person... it was an awful feeling that was almost suffocating, he quickly ran out of the lower deck to the top deck unable to bear it any longer. He leaned over the edge of the boat, unable to comprehend his current feelings.

Meanwhile; Hodgkins had been sitting in the pilot-house suffering similarly but in silence. The young man he had raised just all of a sudden gone, from something so avoidable no less. Something he could easily blame himself for. He had been staring blankly out the window, he had watched when Moomin left the boat and he saw when Joxter stood hunched over the railing. Part of him wanted to go and comfort Joxter. But why would he? So he can inevitably fail at it? To make the situation worse? What was he to say? He never said much in the first place especially to Joxter and he and Joxter butted heads more or less since Joxter was young. But, since Muddler begged him to let Joxter stay with them, why shouldn’t he go comfort Joxter? He practically raised him as well since he was by Muddler's side for ages, yet he knew he couldn’t say he was as close to Joxter as he was with Muddler. He had a second awful feeling bubbling up, the feeling that he had failed as an adoptive father figure, to both Joxter and Muddler. He felt angry with himself for a moment and slammed his paws on his desk before shouting out loud:

“WHY?!”

Such a shout had almost shaken the entire boat with it, Joxter heard it and decided to step off the boat as well, he had never heard Hodgkins yell like that before, and he didn’t want to see the details of it all, Joxter wandered alone on the new landscape.

He walked along the short stone walls to get a feel for where he was so he wouldn’t get lost so soon, so he could make his way back to where he was for the most part, he then came across Moomin again, who was talking to the mymble's daughter, asking questions about this place.

“This is the Autocrat's kingdom! How wouldn't you know that? Also I’m not allowed to talk to strangers, my mother will be upset-“ giggled the girl before opening the door and stepping out, Joxter went over to them. Moomin turned his attention to him.

“Oh, Joxter! Are you doing better?” Asked the Moomin.

Joxter looked down and shrugged “Better than Hodgkins at least... or... I think so anyways. Why are you talking to a little girl?”

“Ugh, you make it sound so weird- I’m asking her if anyone else lives here since no one else is around at the moment!”

“They're all at the king's party, including my mother and my siblings!” The mymble's daughter replied joyfully “I can bring you both there if you want!”

“No thank you. We have more important things to deal with currently... but may I ask what’s the party for?”

“It’s the king's 100th birthday! It’s very special, that’s why every ones there! Also, what’s more important than a big royal party?” replied the mymble's daughter

“I don’t think I should explain, sorry.“ said Moomin “But your mother really shouldn’t have left you alone like this-“ he added

“Well, young mymbles tend to be short from what I heard, maybe she’s old enough to be on her own at home and she just doesn’t look it-“ suggested the Joxter.

“Exactly! I’m actually 66!“ Said the mymble's daughter, obviously lying “Anyways, can you two come to the party with me?”

“Well, this might be one of the only times we'll be able to talk to the king about the situation and ask him for permission for a burial, so...” said Moomin to the Joxter

“This is all so complicated and frustrating...” mumbled the Joxter

“Tell me about it...” Moomin replied to Joxter quietly “Where do we go on from here?”

“Well, isn’t it obvious...?” said the Joxter

“Well yes, we have to ask for permission and then find a place to bury Muddler, but we need to find a place first... and get Hodgkin's input aswell...”

“... Maybe you should do that part.” said Joxter

“You mean talking to Hodgkins? But you’ve known him longer!” Retorted the Moomin

“He doesn’t talk to me much and trust me, I think you would do better... I think I need to do some more walking on my own for now.” replied the Joxter

“Are you just going to avoid the situation?”

“As much as I can. Yes.” answered the Joxter before walking off again into nearby wooded area far away from the rest of civilization on this island. He was planning to return later but he might as well walk around and try to clear away as many feelings as he could.

The Moomin paced around planning out what to say and do first to help get this all over with, the mymble's daughter had overheard his conversation with Joxter and skipped over to him.

“you need permission to bury some thing you said?”

“Yes I did, but why are you nosing around in others' conversations?”

“Well I can help you! You can ask the king for permission to bury whatever you want, he's an easy going guy but the hard part of getting to him will be the maze,”

“The what?”

“The maze and the puzzles to get to the garden of course! I can help you get there and through if you want!”

“I suppose it would be interesting to finally meet a real king...but I wouldn’t want to ask him during a party if we could... oh nevermind, I’ll figure it out on my own.” Moomin pondered

“And I won’t have to walk alone! Come on!” Said the mymble's daughter, trying to be convincing. Afterall, she didn’t know the details of what Moomin and Joxter were so wrapped up about, she assumed they were just having a bad day.

“Let me talk to my friend back in his boat first, I need to see what he says before I agree.”

“Oh fine... you adults are no fun-“ she went back to her hut and pouted as she waited for Moomin to get back.

Moomin went back to the ship finally working up the courage to try and console Hodgkins. He knocked on the door to the pilot-house, Moomin stood there for a minute or two before sitting by the door and began to talk through it.

“Hodgkins, sir, I know you're in there- I don’t know where Joxter went but he said he needed some time to walk around, I’m guessing to clear his head... I know you're... probably going through a lot with the current situation and I’m sad about it too of course but we can’t just sit around and let the body stay there... we need to find somewhere to bury him but we might need permission from the local king who runs this place- I ran into a mymble and she told me the king's having his 100th birthday party today and that’s why there’s not many people here right now- i just thought to fill you in on that, I know you don’t like to talk things out or talk much in general but... you get the point, we should go because it might be one of the few chances we can properly talk to him.” The Moomin then went silent for a few moments pressing his ear against the door, he then heard footsteps coming from the inside of the room and hodgkins opened it up and looked down at Moomin.

“Alright...” said Hodgkins before offering Moomin a hand up, he looked tired, and messy, his whiskers were all crooked aswell.

“Hrm...” Hodgkins stood thinking for a moment, he gave a nod 'yes' and walked ahead off the ship “If this is what it takes to get Muddler a proper resting place then fine.”

“There’s just one issue-“ Moomin piped

“And what would that be?” replied Hodgkins rather coldly

“There’s an entire maze we have to go through to get to the castle, so if we want to go through we will have to take the mymble girl with us to solve the puzzles.”

Hodgkins took a deep annoyed sigh and gave another simple nod in understanding. They went to tell the mymble's daughter they were ready to go and the three of them went on their way.

The mymble's daughter was excited and happy about the maze, there were painted eggs for them to find along the way, Moomin and the mymble's daughter stopped a few times to pick up the eggs. Moomin was trying to keep the mood light and maybe even cheer up Hodgkins a tiny bit trying to get his mind off of mourning.

“Come on Hodgkins, have some fun! You should grab that egg up there! Neither of us can reach it!” suggested the Moomin. Hodgkins grabbed it and held it between his pointer finger and thumb.

“That’s the spirit!” said the mymble's daughter, then Hodgkins stared at them and crushed the egg and tossed it to the ground.

Moomin's ears went down and so did his tail “Got it- let’s just rush through the maze then-“ he looked down and continued to pick up the pace.

The mymble's daughter was disappointed “what a buzz kill!” She retorted but Hodgkins didn’t reply and just continued. Eventually they ran into a bunch of pranks mostly involving fake mechanical spiders and things of that sort.

Hodgkins. Was not. Having it.

He crushed one of the fake spiders in anger “All of this just to ask for permission to bury my darn NEPHEW!”

The mymble's daughter fearfully walked ahead without them because of Hodgkin's clearly boiling anger and they where almost out of the maze anyway. They continued past a few more pranks and got through to their end goal: the King's birthday party.

As they entered moomin took in his surroundings seeing tables of food and a carousel and and happy cheerful faces and a very large old man sitting on a thrown with a crown he was amazed to be in the same room as royalty but hodgkins on the other hand was less then thrilled he got straight to the point and walked over to the king with a serious expression “excuse me your kingship I’m apologize for asking you this on your momentous 100th birthday but may I have your permission to bury my nephew on your Island.”

The King looked down at Hodgkins, lifted an eye brow then chuckled out loud thinking it was some sort of dark joke “Oh ho! Aren't you a strange one! Go ahead bury him where ever you want! Better yet, bury him in front of my castle! Hopefully he’ll come and haunt me!”

Hodgkins sighed, annoyed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Not a joke your highness. May I bury him on your island? Simple yes or no.”

The King's expression quickly, faded his eyebrows lifted in surprise his smile turned into to an awkward frown “Ho- oh my... uhm... of course- bury him where you would... like- uhm...” he cleared his throat because never in all of his 100 years of life had someone ever asked him such a blunt question especially one of this matter. Hodgkins then ended the conversation with a quick “Thank you.” And left.

He got the answer he needed.

Joxter had spent his afternoon scouting out the area, and along his walk he found a peaceful clearing right before the forest started but far away enough from houses and homes for it to be a proper resting place. He put some stuck some sticks out of the ground to mark the area and remember it before going back to the boat just to find he was the only one there at the moment. He decided to go to the pilot-house and rest on the couch in there until Moomin and Hodgkins returned from where ever they were.

(Sorry if it’s a bit messy I had technical difficulties while typing ✨because my phone hates meeees✨/slight joking)

End of chapter two. Illustrations being added soon-

[littlemystolemypie]

HELP THIS IS SO CUTEE

Sorry guys I haven’t been uploading, but here’s some art I did months ago!

[cornyun]

ladies and gentlemen, rocks and non-rocks, me and @flowerbloom-arts present to you...

the moomineral au

formerly known as the hnk or lotl au, i decided to stray away from the source material, only using it as a reference.

tysm for being a shinetologist with me bloom 🙇

so what's the gist of the au?

basically, hodgkins was commissioned by king jones to investigate on an island named vitreous valley. the first gem he meets is the muddler who he begins studying on and eventually, he meets more gems and builds a school to provide them a home, keep an eye on these fellas, and study them closely. eventually, he grows attached to them and stays on the island. his failure to return to the king causes everyone to presume he's dead and therefore leads to the ban of travels to the island.

a summary on gem anatomy and formation will be provided below :)

finally, here are the descriptions for the most notable characters i have at the moment

update: the snorks are now here!

this au is very confusing to explain in a single post so if you have questions please feel free to ask!

i hope you'll like this au bloom and i created ^^

[vinkandpaint]

thinking about how the moomins figured out that these new kids were the oshun oxtra gang’s sons

set after finn family moomintroll and before the exploits of moominpappa!

[ID: Digital art comic of Moomin characters. Panels 1 and 2:    Moomintroll is sitting reading a book at a small desk, which has various objects such as a photo frame and a half-empty plate of food on it. There is a crude doodle of a horse drawn by him tacked to the wall above the desk. Off-screen, Moominmamma says, “Moomintroll, it seems you have a visitor!”

We then see an outside view of Moomintroll pressing his snout and paws right against his bedroom window, smiling as he sees the visitor outdoors. He is peeking through the middle of white lace curtains, and the window panes have streaks of melted snow running down them. These panels are bordered by the frame of the window.

Panel 3:    Moomintroll runs from the direction of Moominhouse towards Snufkin, who is in the foreground, facing away from the viewer and waving. He is wearing a large backpack. Moomintroll calls out “Snufkin!” and Snufkin replies “Heeey!” back. They are both running to meet each other at small bridge over a river. There are trees surrounding the area, with hills and mountains in the background. 

Panels 4 and 5:    Moomintroll runs into Snufkin for a hug, putting his arms around his neck. The force sends Snufkin stumbling back slightly and his hat is falling off his head. He smiles, grunts in surprise, and says “Haha, hello.” Moomintroll responds: “You came back! I missed you!” Snufkin replies, “I missed you, too.”

Moomintroll ruffles Snufkin’s now exposed hair, which is ear-length and orange, and says “You grew hair!” Snufkin excitedly explains, “Yeah! I lost my knife!” These panels are bordered by a tall, narrow tree, which has dead branches on the side of the first panel, and new buds/flowers growing on its branches on the side of the second.

Panel 6:    Moominpappa and Moominmamma are shown standing on the veranda, smiling fondly. Beside them, Sniff is walking out of the house, looking tired and grumpy. He has bits of moulting pale fur in his brown coat. Off-screen, Moomintroll says to Snufkin, “Oh no! How (did you lose your knife?)” Snufkin starts to explain, “Well! That is a story. I’d got myself in this tangle of vines-” He is interrupted by Sniff, who says, “Ugh! How can you all be so chipper so early in the day?”

Panel 7:    Mamma’s happy expression has changed to a confused frown, and she is resting her chin on her paw, thoughtfully. There are abstract clouds in the background representing her thoughts, shaped slightly like the heads of Moominpappa, Joxter, and Muddler, the children’s fathers. Pappa looks at her and asks, “What are you thinking about, Mamma?”

Panel 8:    Snufkin, Moomintroll, and Sniff are seen standing next to each other, respectively. Snufkin is grinning and gesturing with his arms outstretched, telling a story. Moomintroll is laughing loudly. Sniff is facing slightly away from the viewer, resting his paws on his hips, amused but still slightly grumpy. Realising their resemblance, Mamma replies off-screen: “Just an old memory”.]

[ID End]

[writers-in-moominvalley]

🔍Meta Analysis🔍

Alright so here's a monstrosity of a conspiracy board that I mocked up because I had this thought for a long while. Before we get into a deconstruction of this weird web of adaptation, let's start with the most basic of clarifications to get everyone on the same page;

From left to right, top to bottom, the characters are;

The Hemulen (Moominpappa's orphanage principal), the Hemulen('s) Aunt [both from the book Exploits of Moominpappa/Moominpappa's Memoirs]

The Orphanage Principal, Aunt Jane, Aunt Hemulen [all from the 90s series {Aunt Jane originated from the comics but I used a 90s screenshot here}]

Mrs. Fillyjonk, Moominpappa [screenshotted from the 90s series, this version of Mrs. Fillyjonk is taken from the comics while Moominpappa was in the franchise from the start but who really needs clarification on these 2]

Is that fairly clear? Anyway, let's move onto the characters that started this mess, the 2 hemulens on top of this odd family tree:

The Hemulen and Her(?) Aunt

Ah, these two, the Orphanage Principal and Hemulen Aunt, I'll be calling them the OP and the HA for short.

I've had people mix these two up or think they're the same person when the whole joke is that Moomin did the same thing and got punched in his pride for doing so (she says she's the Hemulen's Aunt, given the context of the OP being called simply the Hemulen we can assume she's the Hemulen HA is referring to, but since there are like 9 other "the Hemulen"s it's hard to tell). So to make it extremely clear;

The OP is a hemulen who took care of an orphanage (purely for Moomin children) and was into astrology, she found a child Moominpappa in a grocery bag wrapped in newspaper at the doorstep of the orphanage she built herself and was really into astrology so she looked up at the stars and got a prediction that he's over talented and such, being a Leo. She named the kids after numbers in order of their arrival, naming our Moomin protagonist Number 13 because he was the 13th, she tied a tag to his tail with the number so she wouldn't get him mixed up. She's a terrible caretaker to the child, not really letting him be a child and getting annoyed at his constant questions and literally said "dreams are trash" right to this child's face as he was talking about an honestly pretty boring dream of disobedience. The rest of her orphanage was supposedly obedient and would avoid Number 13 and his weird way of thinking and asking. Last we now of her is that Number 13 left a note announcing his departure. Moomin still calls her auntie despite all this.

Her orphanage is square and beer brown in color, it's located in a treeless landscape near the sea. She had a symmetrical vegetable garden and a hammock nearby.

The HA is a different story, she was chased by the Groke and was rescued by Moomin when she fell into a kettle of Irish stew that Muddler accidentally dropped into the water earlier. When she came onboard she went to clean the jam-filled deck and the Oshun Oxtra knew immediately that she was going to be very unpleasant, Hodgkins even snuck into the pilot-house of the boat to avoid her. She took it upon herself to become the crew's "caretaker" as her "hemulic duty" and everybody disliked it. At 6 I'm clock in the next morning she was extremely cheerful and suggested things like a sock-darning contest (because she checked their drawers and the implication is that most of the socks had holes in them. Bad crew, bad >:( ) and educational games. When she asked what they're having for breakfast Muddler says they're having black coffee, to which HA snaps back with the suggestion of porridge because "coffee is for the old and shaky" and said the crew's parents would weep if they saw them drinking coffee, but of course the whole crew's parents aren't there one way or another. The crew lament the themselves about the HA being annoying and then she gets kidnapped by a flock of Niblings. The crew thinks she's dead or atleast is having her nose eaten off, then later at Muddler's wedding it's revealed that she became the Nibling Queen and happily teaching the Niblings all sorts of things like writing, sadly she couldn't go to the wedding in person but she sent a portrait of herself adorned with jewels on the frame.

In summary; the Orphanage Principal is a doggess of a caretaker atleast to those who don't abide by her standards of obedience. The Hemulen Aunt is a preschool teacher who doesn't mesh well with a group of male sailors.

Aunt Jane

And then by chronological order in the franchise, we have Aunt Jane! I'll be speaking of her more generally rather than make a more or less detailed summary of her role in the story since she makes more than one appearance in the comics and 90s series (if you want an ultra detailed summary/analysis of Jane purely based on her debut episode in the 90s series, I recommend reading this, while it was made before the original poster watched the 90s season 2 episodes, it still holds up well)

So anyway Aunt Jane as we know her as the rich aunt with a cranky attitude first appeared in the second ever Moomin comic strip storyline; Moomin and Family Life. She was introduced as an antagonist type figure after the Moominparents left to the cave to enjoy some semblance of adventure, she arrived at Moominhouse to complain about the box of swear words they sent her as a prank for her general mean attitude toward them but of course they weren't there, she gets scammed by Sniff a couple times by getting trapped and having to pay for her freedom, in the end of the comic she finally finds Moominpappa and accuses him of being a thief and stuff, Moominpappa lies about the reason he sent the swear box saying it was all in good fun and that he's fond of her, Jane cries because nobody told her they're fond of her in ages and they have drinks.

It's unclear if "Aunt" Jane is referring to an actual relation or if it's a polite pet name like "Uncle" Muskrat in the books, especially when taking the Hemulen Aunt comparison into account.

Comparing her to the Moomins; she seems to more resemble the way Tove drew Hemulens at the time (pictured at the top) rather than the Moomins, see the longer limbs and snout, and the glasses which are (or were?) an extremely common trait among Hemulens, aswell as the lack of hair and hat wearing like the OP and HA from before.

Of course despite this, Lars chose to interpret her as biologically related to the Moomins, Moominpappa specifically, while making comic strips with her in his run of the comics, even giving her a second grand nephew named Wispy (who isn't a moomin at all but we can assume some interspecies relationships went on in his branch of the family tree)

This lead to Aunt Jane fully transitioning into a confirmed paternal aunt of Moominpappa's in the 90s series, and also turning her into an actual Moomin rather than being a dubious Hemulen.

As for links with the Hemulen Aunt; You can see the visual similarities I've illustrated in the beginning of this section, but there's also other things to note. Her role as the unpleasant older lady with some form of authority and some tie to Moominpappa is there, but also when the HA became the Nibling Queen she seemed to have become rich as hell as illustrated by the bejeweled portrait frame sent by her for Muddler wedding (perhaps the Nibling's cave was rich with gems and thus by becoming queen the HA herself became rich).

Summary; Aunt Jane is trans confirmed and she became a millionairess by becoming the Nibling Queen. (Joke)

The Fillyjonk Orphanage Principal

Next we have a very... Original, interpretation of the OP. She's vaguely implied to be related to Mrs. Fillyjonk in some way since Moominpappa uses the same language with her as he did with Joxter, M Fuddler and Mymble's Daughter ("(S)he was just like _").

She's a vague overview of the Orphanage Principal, taking in child Moominpappa when she found him at her doorstep in a shopping bag and naming him Number 13 (but instead of using a tail tag she draws the number on his back [how weird is that??]), being generally a nuisance and strict. She also runs a diverse orphanage rather than one purely for Moomins.

Later she replaces the Hemulen Aunt, being saved by Moomin by jumping in Fuddler's tin while the Groke was chasing her, and really being alot more annoyingly strict and prim than the HA in the book. She also gets kidnapped by Niblings but we never hear from her again, so RIP her I guess.

Summary; Pretty lady, ugly attitude, role thief.

Aunt Hemulen

Lastly, we have Madam Hemulen, or Aunt Hemulen as she prefers to be called. Sister of Mr. Hemulen (yes, Mr. philatelist-turned-botanist Hemulen), she's what you'd call a... Conservative, having more traditional values but ultimately means well in her efforts and is surprisingly forgiving and nice.

Her connection to the Hemulen Aunt is a weird one, they have no real connection nor did the HA ever get hinted at or referenced (as in AH never mentions an aunt or whatever) but they do serve a very specific role; being a self-assigned caretaker of the main characters and bothering them with ~terrible~ things like chores and judgement when they were expecting a carefree time. Also they're both hemulens who have umbrellas and wear dresses. There's this weird connection they both have; the HA got chased by a Groke before being saved by young Moominpappa in a river, meanwhile AH has a strong phobia of the Groke and gets saved from being drowned in a river.

To be honest it's pretty weird adaptationally, like sure it's one thing to have stories and characters be changed and applied to different characters when making an adaptation (the 90s series does this almost everytime it's not an original storyline) but it's another thing to do... This. I'm far from complaining though, I love Aunt Hemulen and it gives us a pretty good lens as to what Mr. Hemulen's backstory could be.

Summary; Misguided in the way she handles being a babysitter because of the way she was raised but honestly pretty kind and caring otherwise.

Conclusion

This is why the Hemulen Aunt is Envy in the Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood x Moomin AU lmao. This is a very strange family tree of strict ladies and it's weird how the 90s series handled adapting 2 or 3 characters, but it managed to make all of these ladies unique in their own right with varying degrees of likeability or interesting-ness. It's fun to imagine putting them in the same room and watching what would happen.