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sharada-n · 5 years ago

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Joxter doesn't like it when it rains.

Or well, it's not the rain he doesn't like. Fickle weather can be beautiful in its own way, and he quite enjoys how the wind bends the trees beneath its force, or the lightning holds the sky in its grasp.

However, and perhaps more importantly, Joxter does not like getting soaked, which rain is prone to do to him despite his wide-brimmed hat or his skyward curses. The only real solution to that is finding shelter, or he'd have to resign to trodding around in damp clothes that don't properly dry for days while he's out on the road.

When he was younger and more foolish perhaps he would have done so. Now it isn't just himself he has to consider.

He is quite fortunate at least in having found a semi-permanent accommodation, a house (though never a home to the Joxter) that welcomes him back at a whim no matter how long he was gone for. The Mymble loves him more than he deserves after all. Still, he can't help sitting at the windowsill, the coldness of the downpour creeping in just a little through the glass, and staring forlornly out at the darkness beyond.

She knows not to fuzz over him needlessly, though he likes her affections otherwise. Plenty of children run around the rooms to keep her busy, their hurried footsteps and playful shouts an ever insistent background noise to his sulking. Joxter sighs dramatically and crosses his arms for good measure. Times like these make him almost melancholic, though he's hard-pressed to admit it. Nostalgic in a way he usually isn't, because there is nothing heartwarming to look back on. But it creeps in, bit by bit, and settles in his heart nonetheless.

He remembers it vaguely, like a dream that you keep having every other week or so, refusing to stick properly but stubborn enough in its efforts not to fade completely. It has been so very long yet somehow not long enough to forget, the feel of a warm body wrapped around him, sharp claws digging into his shoulder and the beating of hearts in the darkness.

"Papa?" Snufkin says, his back against the Joxter's chest and legs pulled up close to keep warm. He had been so lost in thought he hadn't even noticed the little one crawl into his lap. Memories did strange things to him sometimes.

He curls up a little, Snufkin still small enough to fit comfortably at this age and Joxter relishes it because he knows it won't always be like this. "What is it?"

"Does the rain make you sad?"

Joxter laughs softly, one hand on the windowsill to keep from tumbling off and it's strange, how happy such innocence could make him. He had never pegged himself as making a good parent, had felt the pull of running away from this responsibility like he had done with so many others, but now that he had made the choice it was remarkable how thoroughly he could enjoy it.

It felt like making something right.

"Not at all," He answers, brushing some of the hair out of his face, "The rain is what makes nature so wondrous of course. It would be silly to be sad about bad weather."

Snufkin tilts his head to the side, seeming to think this statement over. Joxter always found his son liked to think about things way more than he himself ever did, but he couldn't say it didn't amuse him.

"Wondrous things can't make you sad?"

He sits up quickly then. Snufkin turns around in his lap and his legs dig into Joxter's stomach, kind of knocking the air out of him but Joxter doesn't mind. "Well, I guess they can-" He admits. "I never thought about it that way. You're smarter than me, little one."

Snufkin shakes his head, the look on his face as serious as a child his age can make it as he pushes his hands against his father's chest.

"No?" Joxter enquires. "You think not?"

Snufkin hesitates, but only for a moment. "Because you're old." He confesses eventually, and the absolute conviction in those words makes Joxter laugh again. "Old people know things."

"Oh, right," He says, "Certainly wisdom comes with age."

"I don't know about wisdom," Snufkin answers, quietly like a whisper, "But all the other stuff too."

"What other stuff?"

"Grown up stuff," Snufkin looks out the window but it's still too dark to see much more than their own reflection and the droplets of rain stuck to the glass, racing each other down. "Smoking pipes and pulling out signs and not having to stay indoors when it rains."

Joxter decides not to point out the lapse in his son's logic regarding that last one, but huffs under his breathe and pats the boy's head. "I hear that you are quite set on inheriting all my worst traits," And as he says it he can taste the bile in the back of his throat, the blood on his teeth, but stubbornly ignores it. "I'm sure your mother will be very pleased to hear."

Snufkin doesn't answer, eyes fixed outside and pupils dilated to little slits to see the barest of shapes in the darkness.

"Speaking of your mother," Joxter begins, successfully pulling attention back to himself, "I'm sure she would appreciate you spending some time with her, or your siblings for that matter. They hardly ever see you."

His son makes that face he usually only makes when his father forces him to eat his vegetables (not something that happens often) and it pulls another light chuckle out of him.

"I don't know." Snufkin mumbles, laying down on him, arms tucked in against himself and hair brushing just short of his father's chin. "They're nice but they're..." The words trail off into silence, though Joxter already understands. "I rather be alone. Or with you."

All of his worst habits. Just not the very worst ones, he hopes.

"The sky is already clearing," He lies, wrapping one arm around Snufkin to keep him warm. "Come morning surely we will be able to set off again."

"How can you tell?" Snufkin asks, the words slightly muffled by him trying to stifle a yawn.

"Because I'm old, of course, and old people know things. You said so yourself."

He adjust his position slightly, making sure the child can lay comfortably against him, and goes back to staring out the window. Joxter doesn't like it when it rains, sure.

But he doesn't hate it like he used to.

#moominvalley #Moomins #Snufkin #Joxter #my writing #more than the sand on the beaches #which is the fic name on AO3 #also eeey more HC regarding Joxter's childhood snuck in

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geminiamethyst · 5 years ago

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Possession. Chapter 9 (FINAL CHAPTER)

FINALLY! AFTER ALMOST A FULL YEAR, I have finally reached the end of Possession. Sorry it took so long to get to the end of, I just didn’t originally plan for it to be this long. But, you know what? I��m glad it did anyway.

Okay, because this is the final chapter, I can not stress enough to tell you guys to skip this chapter and read the previous chapters using the links below if you have not done so already. If you don’t, trust me, you will regret it.

I’d also like to say a final big thank you to Schusseltier, avril-circus and laambart for allowing me to write this story as they are the ones that came up with the original comic strips that inspired me to write this. Please give them all your love as they are amazing artists.

Enjoy the chapter.

The road to recovery was easy enough physically for Snufkin. All the bruises had cleared up and his body no longer felt like fragile glass that threatened to break at every move he made. However, it was mentally that was the challenge. For a whole week straight, he woke up in the night screaming from the nightmarish memories of when he was possessed that plagued him. Joxter was by his side at every scream he made and comforted him back to sleep, but it did nothing to help sooth his mind from going haywire. Though it was only for a week that the nightmares had gone on for, to Snufkin it felt like months. He hated feeling trapped like that. The spirit was gone, he knew that. But he had suffered so much when he was a prisoner in his head. He would look over his shoulder at every noise behind him when he walked and if someone had snuck up behind him without saying something, he would either flinch badly or scream in a panic when they place a hand on his shoulder. It had gotten terribly bad when Stinky (who in no time at all learned about what had happened somehow) played a nasty prank on him when he was in the forest getting some supplies for his winter wandering. He had frightened him by using a horn to project his voice around the area, making it impossible for Snufkin to pinpoint where it had come from. If that didn’t freak him enough, Stinky had then screamed down his ear so suddenly that it almost gave the poor traveller a heart attack, literally. It was so bad that Snufkin was curled up like a frightened child and wasn’t willing to move until Moomin, Joxter and Little My found him.

He was that scared of being possessed again.

Madame Portia had been doing everything she could to help him through the healing. She had been making him come up to Moominhouse daily to make sure that he was fine. Results were the same with physically, with the mental recovery becoming slightly better each passing day. She feared that the encounter with Stinky’s bullying would have set him back terribly but he surprised her greatly the day after the incident.

“He truly is you brother, isn’t he?” The medium had teased a bit at Little My that day, further commenting that Snufkin was stronger than he looked.

“You should never doubt my family!” Little My only smirked, earning a smile from Snufkin. Ever since that night, even after all the secrets that were kept, Snufkin felt like he was closer than he ever was with his family since he was reunited with them. It made him all the more determined to see his mother during his Winter wandering with Joxter.

Madame Portia had left a week after that, feeling the need to leave the valley before Winter and help another household with a spirit problem. The family said their goodbyes to her, with Moominmamma giving her some Jasmine tea to have on her travels. Madame Portia too had left some gifts with the family. She gifted the Moomin family a talisman to hang up on a wall to help protect the household from evil spirits and a beaded bracelet made out of turquoise for Snufkin with the same purpose. Despite Little My teasing him a little, Snufkin gratefully slipped the spiritual jewellery on, again fearing for him being possessed again. Feeling that she had done enough for the family, Madame Portia left, promising the family that if they ever meet again, she’ll only bring good fortune upon the family.

Sadly as the time went, Winter had finally creeped in. It felt like it had come quicker than it should have. The frost remained permanent on the ground, making the once lush, soft, green grass dry up and become nothing more than had brown coloured stems. Flowers wittered and died, driving off all the insects that had decorated them in the Spring and Summer. The trees were striped completely of their leafs, making them look like nothing more than tall, menacing figures, especially in the dark of the long nights. Clouds covered the sky, blocking the sun and the beautiful blue that was the sky. The air constantly looked like it was damp and it was also bitter, the wind becoming harsh and icy. No matter where you stepped in Moominvalley, it felt like the Groke was standing right next to you, or it felt like you were looking into the eyes of the Lady of The Cold.

Everywhere you looked in Moominvalley, it seemed like Summer was no more than a distant memory.

Snufkin sat on the handrail of the the bridge, just like he had started doing, waiting for Moomin to come out to say goodbye (A/N For those that don’t know, I’m referencing back to episode 85 of the 90’s series). His camp was packed up, leaving behind nothing more than a rectangle of flattened and worn out grass. A circle where he would have his campfire stayed, blackened permanently on the ground. His things were packed into the knapsack that was beside him. The only difference was that Joxter was standing by, waiting to go. He blew out a puff of smoke from his old pipe. He looked up at the clouded sky, noticing that the smoke blended well with the grey that blanketed the sky. He impatiently tapped his foot, knowing full well that it’ll start snowing any second. As much as he didn’t mind waiting, he’d rather get going before the snow gets too deep to walk through. His prayers were answered when he heard the sound of running feet coming towards the bridge. Snufkin stopped playing his harmonica, hearing Moomin approaching as well. He looked towards the young troll, feeling a smile spread across his face. Moomin stopped on the bridge, catching his breath from the running. He glanced at Snufkin’s knapsack, noting how full it looked despite Snufkin not owning very much. His heart sank a little, remembering that he wouldn’t see Snufkin until he awoke from hibernation and Spring had once again returned, bringing the valley back to life.

“Time to leave?” Moomin asked, feeling a little stupid as he already knew the answer.

“Yes. Everything is just going as they should now that some things are back to normal.” Snufkin smiled sadly, hopping off of the handrail. He slipped his harmonica in his pocket before looking a little sadly at Moomin. “Just remember that I’m going to be a little late coming back.” Moomin’s ears drooped a little and his tail became limp. With everything that had happened, he had completely forgotten what Snufkin had told him on Halloween.

“You’ll be seeing your mother though. Like I said, it’ll be worth the wait for you coming back. I hope everything goes well with meeting your mother.” He smiled a little, trying to make himself feel better. Snufkin only smiled at him a little, trying to reassure him that everything will be alright. He grabbed his knapsack and slipped the burden on his back. Moomin could do nothing more than watch sadly at this sight. He hated this time of year to say the least. He hated to see Snufkin leave for the Winter, knowing that he would never see him until Spring. It eased him a little as he reminded himself that he would be hibernating during that time. However, it still felt heavy on him. To him, it was not fair. But he knew that it would be unfair to Snufkin to force him to stay. Snufkin, after all, was a vagabond, a free spirit. It would be cruel to chain him to one place. He knew that it would be better to let Snufkin go, but it still didn’t stop him from being sad.

“HOLD IT!”

Snufkin, Moomin and Joxter turned to see Little My running towards them from Moominhouse. With the speed she was running at, you’d think the Groke was chasing her. The trio caught sight that she was carrying something in her hand, but her arms were going so fast that all they could make was a blurry white object. She skidded to a very sudden holt on the bridge, almost slipping on the frost that had remained on the bridge.

“You weren’t going to leave without saying goodbye to your sister, were you?” She shouted after catching her breath.

“Sorry My, but usually you don’t do that. I thought you were asleep already.” Snufkin said as he knelt down to her.

“Yeah, well, I’m only doing this once! So don’t expect me to do it all the time.” Little My smirked, hands on her hips. She suddenly looked at what she was holding. “Do me a favour will you?”

“Of course.” Snufkin said before the small girl thrusted an envelope into his hands.

“Give this to Mother for me. I owe her a letter.” She said, her face softening a little, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “And.....be careful out there, okay?” Snufkin smiled. He surprised her by pulling her into a hug as a thank you. At first, the older sibling was stunned, but patted his back a little. “Yeah, yeah. Just get outta here before I get too soft. And you!” Joxter jumped a little as Little My pointed at him after Snufkin let him go. Little My’s features turned serious but meaningful. “You had better take good care of my brother. If something happens to him I will personally hunt you down myself!”

“Of course.” Grinned Joxter in amusement, his pipe held between his teeth. It faded as soon as something small, soft and white made its way to the top of his nose. Everyone looked up at the sky. Snowflakes had finally started to fall, twirling and spinning gracefully to the valley, almost like a ballet dancer performing on stage. At first, they fell thinly, only one snowflake coming down once every second, before they multiplied. The snowfall had started to become so dense that Joxter started to worry that he and Snufkin might have to wade through ankle deep snow before they could leave the valley. As Snufkin placed the letter delicately in his knapsack, his father placed a hand on his shoulder, telling him that it was time to go. Snufkin stood up and slipped his burden back on his back.

“So long, my friend. And I promise that I’ll be back before Spring is over.” He smiled sadly, extending a hand out for Moomin to shake. Instead of shaking it in his paw however, the young troll pulled the traveller into a heartfelt hug. He wrapped his arms a little awkwardly around the knapsack, but he still held a little tight. Snufkin stood a little shocked at this sudden interaction.

“Come back safe.” Moomin whispered, his voice a little hoarse as if he was going to cry. Snufkin blinked, then brought his arms around his best friend, giving him a reassuring hug. It felt warm despite the cold chill in the air.

“I promise.” He whispered into Moomin’s ear before the best friends released each other. It felt empty now that they had let go. Became colder all of a sudden. Little My climbed up onto Moomin until she stood on his shoulder, holding one arm around his head to keep her balance. Moomin, unfazed by this, watched with envy as his best friend and Joxter walked away, leaving shallow footprints in the thin layer of snow that had already started falling. They slowly became nothing more than two green dots. Moomin promptly wiped a tear that had trailed down his cheek.

“GOOD LUCK, SNUFKIN!” He shouted at the top of his lungs. He wasn’t sure if it was the snow making him think it or not, but for a few seconds, he believed that he had seen Snufkin stop, turn and wave back at those he called family. Moomin and Little My waved back. They continued until Snufkin and Joxter disappeared for good. Now Winter has officially come to Moominvalley.

And Moomin couldn’t wait until next year, when Moominvalley is blessed by the return of Spring.

And Snufkin to come back with it.

The End.

That’s it everyone. Final chapter. I hope you all enjoyed it. Sorry if it feels anticlimactic, but I don’t care. I don’t know where to go next, but I’m sure I’ll figure something out. If you guys want me to do a short story where Snufkin meets his mother or something like that, feel free to let me know.

In the meantime, have a nice day.

Here are the rest of the chapters, for those that are late to the party.

Chapter 1: click HERE

Chapter 2: click HERE

Chapter 3: click HERE

Chapter 4: click HERE

Chapter 5: click HERE

Chapter 6: click HERE

Chapter 7: click HERE

Chapter 8: click HERE

Links to the original artists:

Schusseltier: click HERE

avril-circus: click HERE

laambart: click HERE

#possession #snufkin #moomin #little my #joxter #moominpappa #moominmamma #oc #madame portia #ending #finally

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zewrit · 5 years ago

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idk if i’ll ever finish this, so. yeet

Snufkin has no words, to properly describe the sun-bright joy he feels in that moment, when his father - his father - hugs him for that very first time.

He could create a thousand spring-songs, enough melodies to fill the old, rickety shelves in Moominpappa’s study, and it would not even adequately put words to the feeling that has made a home in his chest.

His father is warm and solid, and Snufkin clings to him like the child come home he is, buries his nose in the fabric of the Joxter’s cloak, and closes his eyes tight. He can barely hear the others above the roar of contentment, can barely do anything but cling and feel the sting of tears in his eyes.

The Joxter smells like tobacco smoke, like pine trees and cold weather, and Snufkin is home, here, now, for the first time since he was but a whelp, held in his mother’s arms.

And better yet, the Joxter is hugging him back. Is clinging to him too, like ships crowding the harbours in a storm, his nose buried in Snufkin’s hair, and truly, honestly, there is no poems anyone could write, to describe this.

And perhaps that is why, he does not linger in anything but joy. He does not wonder, at the smell tangled beneath the first ones, colder than autumn and sourer than fruits. He does not wonder, not then, why the Joxter smells to keenly of blood.

#drab #moomin #joxter

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lollytea · 5 years ago

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Some Moomin OCs! (Above art by @ask-artsy-oncie who was sweet enough to draw my kiddos!!)

My original thought for Moomin and Snufkin’s future together was that they would have no children, as canonically Snufkin has made it very clear that he’s not sure if he likes kids. However, Moomin was kinda tricky to think about. He does come from a family that’s famous for adopting any lonely little creature that seeks a home. So, maybe this sort of thing is in his nature. It’s possible that when he’s older and more mature, he may wish to start a family of his own.

( A ton of stuff under the cut about how Moomin and Snufkin decided to adopt them and some info/HCs focusing each of the kids individually.)

When Too Ticky shows up at their doorstep with three escapees from a rotten ol’ children’s home, the couple are hesitant but welcome them with open arms regardless. While she was willing to care for them herself until she found them a permanent home, she had urgent business to attend to (invisible moose turf wars up south.) and left them in the care of Moomintroll and Snufkin for a week or two until she returned.

Moomin becomes fond of the children almost immediately. They’re a handful, obviously, but their spirit is incredible. He begins to feel quite comfortable and content in this parental role and even though he tries not to show it, he’s devastated when Snufkin reminds him that they’ll be leaving soon. He’s come to realize that he does want children but is also aware of how Snufkin feels about it. He would would never want to force him into that sort of thing if it’s not what he wants.

Meanwhile, Snufkin has been thinking. Though Moomin has been doing his best to hide his feelings on the matter, Snufkin knows just how attached he is to the kids and how upset he’ll be once they’re gone. He’s in a difficult position here as his conscience is reminding him repeatedly that Moomintroll had always let him choose the life he wanted. He let him wander whenever he pleased and never forced him to stay. Would it not be worth it of Snufkin to return the favor and not stand in the way of what Moomin wanted out of his life?

They discuss it one night after putting the children to bed and they let themselves be honest. Moomintroll adores the kids and wants to raise them. But under no circumstance would he ever pressure Snufkin to do the same. Because he loves Snufkin.

Snufkin admits that he feels uncomfortable with the title of Papa. He likes the kids, he wouldn’t mind sharing a home with them and spending time with them and watching them grow. It’s just that thinking of himself as a father makes him very anxious. But more than anything, he wants Moomin to do whatever makes him happy. Because he loves Moomin.

So, an odd sort of agreement is reached but nonetheless, it’s an agreement both are happy with. Moomin will adopt the children. They will be Moomin’s children. Snufkin will continue to be Moomin’s husband. They will all live together in the same house and they will all love eachother as families do. But the children will not be Snufkin’s. At least not now. If he’s ever ready to be a father alongside Moomin, the kids will still be there. But there’s no rush. The agreement is silly, of course but it puts Snufkin at ease.

It doesn’t happen right away, but within a few years of raising the kids, Snufkin finds himself warming up to the idea.

The Children

Torben - The Witch. Oldest of the three children, Torben is extroverted, witty, charming and a true rowdy boy at heart. He has a hard time juggling responsibilities with immaturity, as while he’s a fiercely protective and nurturing older brother, he’s usually the driving force of mischief that tends to get them all into trouble.

- Is excellent at annoying Moomin. Not that he doesn’t love his papa dearly and vice versa but that boy is the most prominent reason that the poor ol’ troll is going grey. Despite this, Moomin always trusts him with the job of taking care of his siblings. It’s the one thing he has 100% faith in him in. Maybe they’ll cause a bit of mischief but at least he knows that with Torben, they won’t be hurt.

- When he first came to Moominhouse, Torben suffered from frequent nightmares. He was five years old at the time and having cared for his siblings alone until then, he had a hard time accepting that he could finally relax. It was Moomin who pulled him into his lap and sang him back to sleep every night. Nowadays, Torben is very embarrassed about these memories and it’s a silent agreement between himself and his papa to keep it a secret

- Absolutely Idolizes Snufkin. Ever since he was little, Torben has been enthralled with the stories Snufkin tells from his youth, and wants to be just like him one day. Naturally, Snufkin receives an earful from Moomin the first time they have to collect Torben from a holding cell. Not that Snufkin would say it but he was beyond proud that day.

- Torben adores music. Instruments, singing, dancing, he’s invested in all of it. Another reason he looks up to Snufkin so much is his talent with a harmonica, which he eventually teaches to Torben. As he gets older, he picks up a wide array of instruments, his favourite being the violin. If there’s ever a party/social gathering at Moominvalley, either Torben planned it himself or he had some part in it. You will most definitely see him encouraging everyone to dance once the party gets into full swing too.

- Makes his own clothes. Enjoys knitting, sewing, crocheting and embroidery. Cloaks, coats, ponchos, hats, gloves, quilts, whatever he pleases, all decorated with the most showy of patterns. Moomin jokes that they could never survive hibernation without Torben’s blankets to keep them warm.

- Wants to smoke like Snufkin but Moomin won’t let him until he’s older so he just carries around an empty pipe to pretend to puff on and look cool.

- Grows to be far taller than his Papas and his siblings.

- Isn’t aware of his witch heritage just yet. He learns in his early teens by pure accident when roaming though the woods and encountering an older Alicia. She tilts her head at him curiously, commenting that he bears a striking resemblance to a witch she was friends with long ago. With a little encouragement from her, they manage to find some trace of magic in him over a cup of tea. He realizes with great fear and great excitement that there’s been this whole side of himself that he went all these years without noticing.

- Moomin is shocked by this development while Snufkin takes it in stride, saying that it’s no wonder Torben would always nick his hat as a small child. Every witch needs a hat!

- Though Alicia handles most of Torben’s witch training, Snufkin also pitches in by teaching him how to read tarot cards. Meanwhile Moomin tells his son that it’s okay if he believes in the cards but if they tell him to leave home before he’s ready if he catches a certain amount of fish or something silly like that, then they’re wrong!

Birch - The Woodie. The middle child. Two years younger than Torben and three years older than Essi. Primarily the voice of reason among his more reckless siblings. However, he is still a child and loves a good adventure and a laugh every so often so he’ll usually tag along without question. While the trio have been thrown in jail several times, it’s worth mentioning that there’s plenty of times they haven’t gotten arrested and Birch’s quick thinking is usually to thank for that.

- Birch is quite the introvert. Calm, reserved and a bit shy around strangers. But that does not stop him from having a tongue sharp as a pinprick when he’s around those he’s comfortable with. He’s good with a snarky retort to any of Torben’s comments and will gladly dish them out at any opportunity.

- He and Torben bicker constantly. They are always a word away from launching at each other into a full blown wrestling match over the kitchen table. They disagree on all trivial things. They’re also best friends and there is no force in this world that can tear the brothers apart.

- Keeping Essi safe is usually their top priority but Birch often forget that he’s also a younger sibling and Torben is always looking out for him too.

- Likes to collect the things he finds, especially funny shaped rocks and seashells. He’s always carrying around a little pouch to store his treasures. The shelves in his bedroom are packed tight with everything he’s gathered over the years, which he polishes every day.

- Doesn’t like affection from just anyone but will allow it from his family and actively seeks it from Moomin. His papa gives very good hugs and Birch often finds himself needing a specific kind of comfort that only Moomin can give him.

- He’s cleaner than the average Woodie, bathing twice as regularly as is required of him. He then has to scrub the shedding moss he left in the bathtub.

- The little flower patches that grow on his body tend to wilt and fall off during the colder months and burst into bloom again in Spring. The older he gets, the more flowers he accumulates.

- Birch is a dreamer. He’s the musing, pondering sort who likes to fall away to his own imagination. He likes reading and enjoys writing and while he’s tried out a variety of different types, such as stories, plays and memoirs (at Moominpapa-…or rather moomingrandpapa’s insistence) he finally finds that he’s best suited for poetry.

- When Birch and Snufkin first met, his future father was sceptical. Seeing a Woodie child again brought back a mix of nostalgia and an instinctive urge to back away before the confounded little one imprinted on him like last time. And true, while as a young child, Birch was a lot more touchy and clingy but much to Snufkin’s relief, he had an obvious favouritism towards Moomin.

- Snufkin was astonished as Birch grew older and it became clearer with each day that they had a lot in common. Birch often needed his space too, he needed alone time, he didn’t like large crowds and he got grumpy when he wasn’t left alone when asked. And while his siblings didn’t always get that, Moomin and Snufkin understood and allowed him his solitude when he needed it.

- One year, Birch’s heart tells him he needs to leave. Not forever but just for a bit. He doesn’t understand the urge but every inch of him is suddenly screaming “we need to go!” and he has no idea how to react to it. Eventually, he realizes that this is the exact feeling Snufkin always described as he hugged them goodbye every winter. It was something he simply needed to do.

- He’s very anxious about telling Moomin, knowing how family-oriented his papa was and how worried he could get over his childrens’ wellbeing. But once he finally works up the courage to announce his plans over the dinner table, his two papas share a shocked look but the response from both of them is surprisingly supportive. Moomin explains that if it’s what he must do, then do it. Though he had never gotten that feeling himself, being with Snufkin so long has given him a lot of insight on wanderers and the way their souls are. Snufkin says nothing on the matter but Birch catches his smile from across the table and the proud gleam in his eye.

- Birch is the first of the children to go a winter without hibernating. He’s not entirely sure if he’ll do this every year but maybe once in a while would be nice. When the time to leave finally came, Essi clings to him and weeps as Birch holds her close and assures her that he’ll be back again in no time. He can tell Moomin wants to burst into tears too but he holds himself together as not to hold Birch back. Torben is doing the same thing but Birch suspects that more on account of his own self-pride.

- For his first time vagabonding, it’s not as nerve-wracking as he thought it would be. He’s alone of course, but every so often he and Snufkin would cross paths on their respective journeys and share a campfire and talk into the night. It’s only every few weeks but it’s comforting to know that no matter how vast the woods seem to be, his father is out there somewhere. And he doesn’t always need him there. The peace he gets in the weeks between is quite nice. His journal bursts with poems in a way it never has before. Birch believes he might do this again next year.

Essi - The Mumrik. The baby of the bunch. An exploding ball of sunshine and an unstoppable force of nature fused into one tiny form. Often considered the second generation Little My due to how small and rambunctious she can be. That being said, while the similarities are certainly there, there are plenty of differences between the two in the personality department. Essi was put on this planet solely to have fun and play and love, love, love with every beat of her heart.

- Essi has never spoken a word in her life but that doesn’t stop her from having plenty to say. Since she was a baby, her family has caught on to her way of communicating which she does through her paws, facial expressions, whistling, body language and the thump and swish of her tail. Her tail tends to be reserved for her more intimate sayings. When referring to Moomin for example, she bats her tail twice against the nearest surface, producing a little ‘pah pah’ sound.

- Has absolutely no idea how to pace herself. Essi bursts from the house every day to go play, her brothers in hot pursuit and once she’s out, she’s go, go, go. Never stops running, jumping, climbing, swimming, fishing, whatever. She can never make it home on her own as she’s always burned out and snoring in the meadow by sundown. Torben carries her home on his shoulders.

- Does not like baths and prefers to simply groom herself. However, she falls in the river at least once a day when trying to swipe for fish. Snufkin believes that to be an adequate form of bathing. Moomin disagrees. He also does not appreciate it when Snufkin helps Essi to hide when Moomin is hunting her for bath time. Meanwhile, his husband and daughter consider this quite a fun game.

- Is extremely cuddly, especially where Moomin is concerned. He hardly gets a chance to sit down without Essi hopping on her papa’s stomach and curling up to the warmth of his fur, purring happily. When content, she’ll knead her paws and when affection is being demanded, she will bash her head into Moomin’s nose to receive the cuddles she wants.

- While Birch sometimes finds her nonstop energy annoying/draining at times, Essi looks up to her big brother unconditionally. She doesn’t understand his rock collection or why he’s always writing or locking himself in his room but he’s good! He kisses her scratches when she gets hurt and he hugs her, even if he doesn’t want to and shares his lunch with her he tells really good stories! He even includes more knights at Essi’s request. She tries to thank him for everything he does by bringing him dead bugs but for whatever reason, he doesn’t seem to like it.

- Torben dotes on Essi and he always has. Whether it be by tickles or funny voices or throwing her up in the air, he loves to make his sister laugh. And when Birch isn’t in the mood to join in their nonsense, they make an excellent crime duo. He’s not the greatest influence sometimes but he loves her. He also doesn’t enjoy dead bugs as gifts, which Essi can’t wrap her head around at all.

- Like Snufkin, Essi has an inexplicable bond with nature. She attracts beasts of every sort, who have followed her home on several occasions. Though of course, she isn’t half as annoyed as Snufkin. She’s absolutely delighted by all her new pets! She’s on the lookout for a dragon of her very own though. Like the little one from her papa’s stories. She is a knight after all and what’s a knight without a dragon. (Birch tends to leave out the part of his stories where the knight slays the dragon. Essi is far happier with the interpretation of them being best friends.)

- She found an old sword washed up by the riverbank once and it has become her prized possession. Her family have tried everything but simply cannot talk the little one out of giving up her sword. Torben believes she’s entitled to keep it under the ‘Finder’s, Keepers’ rule. So, she has a sword now and that is that.

- It took Snufkin a while to accept being a father. At first, he didn’t want anything to do with that title at all. Of course, he lived with them, they were his home, he cared for them but it was always Moomin who was the father. Snufkin was just Snufkin. They called him by his name. That’s all he was and all he wanted to be. But one night, he was feeling particularly night owl-ish. Moomin had retired to bed and Snufkin was sitting by the stove, basking in the heat. Silence was then disturbed by the pat pat pat of little feet down the stairs. A tearful Essi, stricken by a bad dream, was welcomed into Snufkin’s arms as he gathered the child into his lap. Little paws going wild as she recounted it all, she was finally soothed by Snufkin’s stroke of her hair and the way he rocked her back and forth. All was quiet, as she began nodding off against his chest, when her tail batted once, then twice, against his leg. ‘Pah pah’ His breath hitched. But he said nothing. There was nothing to say, really, as everything seemed to click in that moment. He hugged Essi tight.

#moomin #moominvalley #moomin ocs #moomin oc #springdove children

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mirai-eats · 5 years ago

Text

Stray Spring:: Dance (Summer Romance)

Snufmin, 4,673 words, part 2/5

flower symbolism bc thats how i work i dont change, Fluff, Romance, so soft it hurts, Light Angst, Sickfic, Spring Deity Snufkin, little my is a demigod???

A deity borne of spring and summer can’t leave Moominvalley alone.

read on AO3

Moomin had a hard time getting himself out of bed today and that bothered him since today was an important day. Mamma didn’t scold him for stumbling down the stairs well into breakfast, but only wished him a good morning and gently told him to have those midnight adventures on days he doesn’t need to get up early.

Sniff was charged with distracting Little My and taking her up to a rural spot in Lonely Mountain where Snufkin had buried a box of rocks for her to find. Meanwhile, it was up to the Moomins and every spare hand to set up the extravagant party to celebrate the new season and Little My’s new age. Moomin didn’t know how old she was, and every time he asked something would always interrupt. He gave up asking and resorted to counting the candles on her cake.

The party was going to be lovely, Moomin thought. Long tables were set out with summer flowers and stakes with paper lanterns framed the perimeter they set up, strings of lights draped the trees and strung over their heads as an imitation of stars. Mamma was cooking with vigor in the kitchen, preparing enough food to keep the whole valley full through winter. In the meantime, Mamma had set out heaping plates of juicy, red watermelon and sweet berry juice for people setting up the party. Moomin took a few slices and ran down to Mr. Hemulen’s where Snufkin was helping him pick flowers to decorate.

“This is very delicious, thank you Moomintroll,” Snufkin said after chewing thoughtfully on the melon.

“You’re welcome, now let’s haul these over so we can get them on the tables and chairs. Little My is due back soon!”

It was no walk in the park bringing so many flowers in the wheelbarrows. It was a miracle they got them all placed in time right before they heard the large shouts of Little My coming from just beyond.

“Everyone get in place! She’s coming!” Pappa clapped his paws and on cue, everyone rushed to stand in attention, facing the hill Little My will climb to the top of and see the party waiting for her.

“Mymble isn’t here yet, what do we do?” Pappa fretted, his hat tilted askew in his frantic movement.

“She will come, it’ll be a grand surprise on top of this surprise when her mother comes,” Mamma soothed.

---

The party was going well, very well, but the Moomin’s were still eyeing the path from the beach waiting for The Mymble to arrive. She’ll come when she comes, Snufkin thought.

Snufkin didn’t want to admit it, but he was rather nervous himself. He kept to himself at the fringe of the party, in which most, if not all, of Moominvalley, showed up for. The record player Moominpappa had successfully fixed up was playing joyful tunes into the sweet, summer air as the day slowly cooled as the night struggled to blanket the horizons. This was the longest day of the year and sunset didn’t come until the party reached its peak, when the music grew the loudest and drinks splashed refill after refill into cups. Little My had stuck a little cosmo from the table display into her bun as if it were her crown and swung around in the middle of it all, her laughter loud and smile even louder.

It’s when the sun touched the tops of the forests and the sky was a rich gold with strands of rosy pink did a parade arrive. Thirty-four children with hair red like Little My’s and screams somehow louder than hers rushed from the beach trail and over to the party, in the midst of their chaos rose the imposing figure of their mother.

The Mymble was eccentric, a presence so loud and bright it’s hard to ignore, especially how she was taller than even the tallest hemulen. Her red hair was messy atop her head, where little baby’s breath flowers were scattered like sparse snow and her eyes glittered like sunshine on the greenest lake surface. The air felt sweeter in her presence, cooler like a gentle spring breeze dripping with honeysuckle petals. Little My leaped with a shout and ran into her mother’s embrace, her big arms holding her tightly to her chest. The party grew louder, more rambunctious, fit for a Little My with too much energy crammed in that very little body.

From the fringe of the party, Mymble’s eyes landed on Snufkin. This was the first time she’s seen him since he was placed in a basket and sent down the river. He tipped his hat and turned away.

---

He wasn’t mad at her. He couldn’t bring himself to be angry at her for letting him go when he was so young. He grew up fine, he never pined for the affections of a mother or the guidance of a father. He knew what his mother and father were, but when Moominpappa placed a name and face to their beings, shaped their characters through his stories, he ached something sharp like a cold pick of winter ice drilled into his heart.

It was a surprise when it wasn’t Moomintroll who found him first, but The Mymble. Overwhelmed with the party, he had dove into the forest and climbed up a maple tree thick with green leaves. The summer breeze hit him just right, and from here he can watch the sun tiptoe the horizon and paint the sea a brilliant, hazy orange that drove the warmth of the day away.

“Snufkin,” she said.

He nodded in acknowledgment and lit his pipe, letting the smoke waft into the air and fill the thick silence with its odor, the sweet smell of daisies and poppies on his hat was blanketed under a smokey curtain.

“You’ve become quite the deity, haven’t you,” she settled herself on the ground under his tree, her voice rising into the air as if caught by a breeze and sailed up to his perch.

“You couldn’t have done anything for me, could you?” It was a statement, not a question.

“No. I can’t raise a spirit. Those children are all demigods and I enjoy watching them grow, but you aren’t a demigod. You won’t grow like them.”

“Little My?”

“Is like them, and so is my eldest. You’re one of a kind, Snufkin.” A sigh left her lips and it was as if the whole forest took a breath of fresh air. The leaves seemed greener, the air fresher, and the gentle sweetness of the most fragrant flora, of soft sweet peas and mysterious wisteria, star-light jasmine and plump gardenias. It was as if spring came back once more for another round. Snufkin looked down from his perch and saw The Mymble as she truly is- a goddess of spring.

Flowers bloomed and died in her hair, petals dripped like soft snow onto her shoulders and the green grass that’s sprouted out around her. The collar of fur was replaced with a wreath of greenery and flowers oozing their sweet scent, her coat was now a shifting robe that seemed to have been woven from the silkiest petals. She looked up to where Snufkin lounged in the tree, her round face glowing with light only one not of this world can possess.

Snufkin lifted his robe of glamour, the scruffy Snufkin in a coat too old to count the years of and boots worn to the thinnest soles were replaced by his robes of shimmering green. His hat bloomed all sorts of flowers, from the smallest, palest buds to the brightest, largest petals. He descended from the tree with a graceful leap, draped in spring nature, falling far too high to be safe and landed gently on the freshly grown grass, his bare feet hitting the cool blades.

“What of The Joxter, my father?” Snufkin asked.

“A minor god, the personification of a lazy summer day,” she nodded. “It’s why you reign strongest in the spring and summer where the flowers bloom brightest and the sun is the warmest. You spend your days idly and freely, amongst the root of trees and grassy meadows and wherever you go, you bring spring with you.”

She looked up where he stood before him. Even sitting, he was only barely taller than her. “You need to leave earlier than that, my son. I heard from the Moomins you hang around here through the autumn. That can harm you, and it can harm the balance of nature.”

“I know.”

“Then leave as soon as the trees start to shudder and the flowers start to grow smaller. You need to bring your music to the south where the sun sits high in the sky.”

“I will.”

Her eyes narrowed, unbelieving of him. Towers of delphiniums started growing around her, pale blue and pink trumpets of flowers unraveling and reaching for their sun, their spring goddess. Pops of tiny daisies sprung at their feet and brushed up against Snufkin’s bare ankles. “You will. I don’t know if you know this, but if you linger too long in one place, you may perish.”

“I know.” He was starting to sound like a broken record, skipping over select words that would appease his mother. But he knew, he understood the risk of staying too close to winter in Moominvalley. He did it once before because Moomintroll asked him to stay until the winter solstice for their feast so he won’t miss him too terribly when he left. He was ill then, and could barely touch his food, and almost didn’t make it out of Moominvalley before the snow started to really come down. Moomintroll has tried since then to have him stay a little longer, sighing loudly, despondently, into the autumn air. He caved and stayed, and he almost died.

“Don’t do it again. For each time you do, you will grow weaker faster.”

A shout of his named echoed through the forest. A flock of birds rose from the trees and scattered into the orange horizon, the sun swallowed by the midnight blue.

Moomintroll rounded the corner and spotted Snufkin. “There you are! Are you alright? You disappeared during the party.”

“I’m okay, just a little overwhelmed with the number of people,” Snufkin said.

“Oh wow! These are gorgeous!”

The Mymble had disappeared, leaving the patch of jewel-green grass and the stocks of delphiniums at the base of the tree. Snufkin had dropped his glamour back on, his boots crushing the grass and the daisies on his hat matched the ones by Moomin’s feet. Moomintroll did not see a thing. “Aren’t they lovely? They’re called delphinium.”

“They are.” Moomin picked a couple of little daisies and stuck them in the wreath of flowers on Snufkin’s hat. “Do you want to be alone right now?”

Snufkin shook his head. “We can go to the beach and take a walk. I’m just tired of the party.”

Moomintroll’s eyes lit up, a mischevious sparkle that seemed a little too excited for a simple moonlit stroll on the beach.

“Can I show you something instead?”

---

They stole a lantern from the party when no one was looking and traipsed up the forest path. Snufkin realized it was the direction Moomintroll had been sneaking off too for months now.

“What do you want to show me?” Snufkin prodded.

“It’s a surprise.” Moomintroll was practically vibrating.

They reached a bend in the trail and Moomintroll went off the path, over a bushel of bright, yellow yarrow, and down a secret worn path that wound through the trees. He suddenly stopped at the base of a sturdy oak tree. He pushed aside some broken branches piled up at the bottom and revealed a rope ladder dangling down the side of the tree.

“What is this, Moomintroll?” Snufkin asked. He looked up and between the thick branches he could make out wooden boards.

“I built us a secret base,” Moomintroll said, his voice barely able to contain his excitement. “I read a book about spies having secret bases hidden in plain sight, where they can meet and plot their next missions. I thought it would be cool if we had a secret place, too.”

“Oh, Moomintroll, it’s fantastic.” Snufkin’s heart swelled with something warm. A moment of fear iced his veins, that this was Moomintroll asking him to stay forever, but this was a treehouse, a place for them alone and not an actual house. He needn’t read too deeply into the meaning of all this.

“Let’s go, let’s go! You haven’t even seen the best of it yet!” Moomintroll ushered him up the ladder. It took them through a square hole cut out of a wooden platform, buried in the oak branches and green leaves. There was no way someone could see this place from below, and with the thick tree coverage, it was hard to see it coming from the forest path unless someone was looking for it.

The house was a simple box that was morphed around a sturdy branch. The door was a little high off the ground, and there were curtains patterned with summer yellow sunflowers (definitely Moominmamma’s work). The cabin was small, a little rickety for comfort, but Snufkin adored it. The little chairs at the table, a basket of snacks, a worn map from Moominpappa, a bouquet of small sunflowers and pale purple cosmos sat in a vase Snufkin remembered Moomintroll made when he was briefly into pottery, the sides bumpy with paw marks and the smear of bright blues made it personal. Moomin lit the oil lamp on the table and filled the small space with a wonderful warm glow. The blue light left from the twilight was chased away with the golden candlelight.

“This is wonderfully cozy,” Snufkin said as he settled down into one of the chairs. He peaked out from behind the window curtain and could see the main forest path between the branches of their tree. “Perfect for spying, but I’m afraid at night someone will see our light.”

“Then we’ll have to be extra careful and only come when everyone’s asleep,” Moomintroll said. He took the seat across from Snufkin and pulled out a book from a box under the table. “Let me show you the book that inspired me to make this!”

---

Little My bobbed through the tall stocks of gladiolus, a bundle held in her small arms. With her size, it was as if she was carrying lumber, not pink and yellow flowers. She emerged from the stocks and ran full sprint toward Moominhouse, where Moominmamma was trimming the stems of gladiolus and placing them in long vases.

“Thank you, Little My, that will be plenty for now,” Moominmamma said kindly, taking the new bundle from Little My. “Can you deliver this vase to Mrs. Fillyjonk?” She handed Little My a vase almost as tall as her with a spry of artfully arranged flowers, a red bow tied around the slim neck of the bottle.

“Sure thing! Don’t get mad if I spill!” Little My leaped from the porch and teetered down the walkway toward Mrs. Fillyjonk’s house, the water sloshing dangerously in the vase and her arms burned but she refused to put it down.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a Moomintroll-white shape flitter in the corner of her eye. She quietly placed the vase down on the side of the road and scanned the treeline where she saw it.

There! Darting between the trees was Moomintroll, his own armload of gladiolus flowers clutched close to his chest, the red pedals bobbing with his steps. The flowers won’t die if they waited out in the sun for a bit, Little My thought to herself and ran after him.

She stayed far enough away he wouldn’t be able to hear him, but close enough to keep him within sight. They wound through the trees, going off and on trails and pushing through bushes. He stopped suddenly at the bank of a river, a waterfall feeding into the quickly moving water. Snufkin sat at the shore, a bucket next to him and his fishing rod posed in his hand. Branches of green leaves and fern dripped from his hat, the single white dahlia poking from the side was like a beacon amongst the green. Moomintroll came up behind him and plucked a bud of red gladiolus and stuck it in his hat brim. The roar of the waterfall hid their words and Little My scooted closer to catch what they were talking about.

She heard “secret base” and lost face. She hopped from behind the bush and shouted, “And what are you two up to?!”

Moomintroll jumped in surprise and Snufkin turned and tipped his hat in greeting. “Little My, hello.”

“Hello to you, too. What are you talking about?” She asked again.

Moomintroll seemed to be sweating under all his fur, his eyes darting everywhere but Little My. “Nothing much, I wanted to show Snufkin the flowers you and Mamma picked.” Liar.

She tried again, badgering them for good answers, but she only got vague remarks. She got bored, as Moomintroll was giving Snufkin big cow eyes as he fished and Snufkin kept sneaking longing glances at Moomintroll when he wasn’t looking. It was sickening and she couldn’t take it. She left to go finish delivering the flowers

---

Moomin realized that he harbored warm feelings for Snufkin when the sun was at its hottest. Snufkin had stripped to his trousers and worn shirt, the white so faded it was threadbare at the hems and elbows. They splashed around a creek where a willow tree traced its surface, stocks of violet irises waved in the warm, summer breeze and spots of petunias reached for the water. It was a picturesque sight of them chasing frogs in the moving water, tripping over stray stones and tangled in weeds. The cool water felt great in Moomin’s heated skin, his fur thinned for the summer but it wasn’t enough to cool him from the hot sun. Snufkin had a peeling sunburn on his nose, new freckles sprang up across his cheeks and the back of his hands and for a second Moomin wanted to kiss them.

The shock of realization hit him as if Little My dumped ice-cold lemonade over his head. He froze in the creek, the water splashing at his waist as he stared wide-eyed at Snufkin floating on the surface, eyes closed and absorbing the sun peeking through the willow branches and warming the water. Moomin’s heart leaped in his throat and caught his tongue in a stranglehold. Never in his life had he wanted to hold someone’s paw so much.

---

The Moomins shielded themselves from the midsummer sun under their balcony, with Moominappa taking up residence in the hammock with a book over his face to muffle his snores. Snufkin sat on the railing cleaning his harmonica while Moomintroll sat next to him with a book of his own. From where they sat, a breeze hit them just right. Moominmamma was nearby repairing one of Little My’s dresses with a rather large hole in the hem. The little monster herself laid sprawled out on the porch, sweat dampening her hairline and shooting glances and Moomintroll and Snufkin.

Snufkin let his eyes follow her glances where Moomintroll was posed reading a book, one of pirates and seascape adventures. The sun hit his fur where the shade couldn’t shield him, haloing him in a white glow and Snufkin’s heart stuttered in his chest.

Moomintroll chose that moment to look and he smiled at Snufkin, his eyes glittered with mirth from what Snufkin suspects is from a silly part in his novel. He winked at Snufkin and went back to reading.

Little My snorted when Snufkin turned his back to the porch so no one could see his red cheeks.

---

Snufkin found himself napping amongst hydrangeas. They grew off the side of one spot on the road and their fragrant shade was ideal for a mid-afternoon nap. It was August, and the heat was reaching to the point of unbearable. The day before he and the Moomins wore themselves out on their own seascape adventure when they took the boat out. He could still smell the lingering salt and sand on his skin, a smell that won’t go away until summer is gone beyond the horizons.

He heard familiar footsteps coming down a road, a gait he had memorized by heart. Moomintroll caught sight of his boots sticking out of the flowers and crawled under the bush to join him.

“Hullo, Snufkin,” Moomintroll greeted. “Do you mind if I join you? The sun is very harsh right now and it smells wonderful in this shade.”

“Be my guest.” Snufkin patted the spot next to him. It was a tight fit within the sturdy branches and pom poms of pastel flowers, but Snufkin didn’t mind. He could never mind being so close to Moomintroll.

It was peaceful between them, or that’s what Snufkin wanted to say. He was enjoying the air between them, warm and fragrant. It was Moomintroll who seemed to not be able to settle down. He was tense, kept shifting in his spot.

Unable to take it, Snufkin pokes. “What’s the matter, Moomintroll?”

“I want this to last forever,” Moomintroll spoke in a rush, a crack in the dam.

“Well, summer can’t last forever. Soon it will be autumn and I’ll have to leave again, but don’t worry, I’ll always be back,” Snufkin soothed. “Then we can have a whole new spring together.”

“No, not that. It’s-“ Moomintroll gulped and sat up as far as he could with a wide branch of spade leaves in his way. He looked down over at Snufkin. “I don’t want us to change.”

“People are always changing, but we can change together.” Snufkin was admittedly a little confused where Moomintroll’s train of thought was going. He thought they’ve discussed this in-depth?

His heart lit up, fluttered in his chest in hope. He crushed it underfoot.

Moomintroll gulped. “I don’t mean it like that. I’m… I…”

Snufkin waited patiently. He sat up, too, and gripped the brim of his hat in his lap.

“I don’t know how to say this but I need to say this to you Snufkin, but I don’t want ya to change apart, can we still be friends?” Moomintroll looked anywhere but at Snufkin.

“Of course I’ll stay by your side,” Snufkin agreed easily. It was the easiest yet hardest thing he could do.

“Snufkin,” Moomintroll took a deep breath, steadying himself and pulled his gaze to meet Snufkin’s. “I love you so much, I want to stay with you, and you stay with me. I love you like Mamma and Pappa love each other, and if you don’t- don’t feel the same way, that’s okay! As long as we can be friends that’s more than enough for me.”

There was a stutter in Snufkin’s heartbeat at Moomintrolls confession.

“You don’t have to respond, we don’t have to change,” Moomintroll continued. “I needed you to know that before I exploded.”

“What if I want it to change?” Snufkin asked. His heart felt so light, pounding a rhythm into his chest. Before Moomintroll could respond, a look of pain crossing his face, Snufkin said, “What if I want us to be together, too… if you would have me?” He felt… he didn’t know how to voice his love for Moomintroll, he never thought he would ever. He wasn’t prepared.

Moomintroll’s eyes filled with starlight, a smile graced his face so wide and happy Snufkin silently filed away that memory forever. “I would love to,” Moomintroll said.

They held hands, something they’ve done countless times before, but this time it had a whole new meaning.

---

The summer heat got hotter and drier as the season progressed, the riverbed dried out and only the sturdiest flora could withstand the waves of heat. Grass shriveled to brown crisps and Moominmamma’s roses were nothing but bare stumps. In this, like everyone else in Moominvalley, Snufkin found himself dozing off more often than not. With a heat this intense, it left the air dizzy with sleep.

As Moomintroll and Snufkin would be considered officially together, they hardly strayed from each other’s sides. Their honeymoon phase, as Moominmamma called it. Despite how desperately Snufkin wanted to cuddle up to Moomintroll’s soft chest and sleep the day away under the bridge, the heat wouldn’t allow him to go closer than a few inches from Moomintroll. At night, when the air cooled to a more bearable warmth, not nearly cool enough to wear his jacket again but less like he needed to peel his skin off too, they would watch fireflies dance amongst the midnight blue or simply relax on the beach where the waves pounded their stories into the sand.

Snufkin tried not to think of the coming autumn, how the sunflowers were growing less frequently and the air lost the summer touch.

---

As if summoned, or perhaps sent by a certain spring goddess, Snufkin received a visitor on the last day of summer.

The summer left him weak and found that naps helped. Napping in flowers helped a lot. He laid in a grove of lavender brush, the first of the upcoming season and a final goodbye from summer. Their soothing smell lulled him into a deep sleep and he wondered if Moomintroll has seen this yet.

A crunch of footsteps through hard dirt and the sage leaves of the lavender brought Snufkin out of his stupor. Sleepily, he sat up and put his hat back on, the top adorned with more of the lavender stocks and sweet asters Moomintroll had found for him. A figure framed by the too-bright sun shaded his vision.

“Hello, may I help you with something?”

“I’m your dad and your mother sent me to make sure you’re getting ready to leave,” this person, The Joxter, said.

To see both his parents within the span of one season, how fortunate Snufkin must be. The Joxter was as Moominpappa described him to be, his eyes were a piercing blue and his olive coat had seen better days, the hat on his head was similar to Snufkin’s except red and looped through the cord around the brim were dandelions. From the pipe hanging from his lips and the calm disposition, Snufkin was a little unnerved by the similarities between them.

“It’s too early, tell her I’ll leave when it’s properly time,” Snufkin said.

The Joxter’s eyes narrowed. He took a deep breath of his pipe and puffed out a ring of smoke. “Okay.”

Snufkin was taken aback. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” He plopped down next to Snufkin and leaned back, his hat tilted down to shield his face. “I don’t care. You’re a grown man. She never took interest in you before now, so I don’t know what her concern is.”

The remark sort of hurt, but it was the hard truth. “Is she trying to change herself?”

“Not likely. I think she doesn’t want her only god kid to die out because he liked hanging out with the Moomins. Don’t worry, I do too. Your little boyfriend’s dad and I go way back.” His voice was muffled by his hat, the pipe lifted lazily in the air as he tapped out the ashes without care.

Snufkin stared down at him unsure of where to go from there. “They’re good, the Moomins.”

“Yeah, lay down kid, take a nap with me, then let’s go eat some of Moominmamma’s delicious food.” The Joxter patted Snufkin’s spot, the dent still in the grass where Snufkin had been laying.

He complied and found it odd to be having a cat nap with his dad out of the blue, a man he has never met before this moment. A god-like him who chose to spend his days idly, and suddenly he didn’t find it so weird so similar they were.

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AN: see Snufkin here!

#moom #moominvalley #the moomins #snufkin #snufmin #springdove #fic #hng

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bo-bo-bean · 5 years ago

Text

Sour Note

Sour Note Snufkin woke up in his tent, the sun beaming down on the cloth, into his eyes. The birds were chirping, the creek played a gentle tune, frogs croaking good morning and white fluffy clouds hung in the sky. It would've been the perfect way to wake up. Snufkin sat up and stretched, a smile on his face. He went out of his tent, looking around. He took a deep breath in through his nose, and then out. Today... was going to be perfect. "It's a beautiful day..." he smiled. "I could get some fishing done, perhaps start that garden I've always wanted." So Snufkin took out his fishing pole and sat on the bridge fishing. However, a creaking was heard. Snufkin gasped and suddenly, the bridge railing broke in half. He yelped, falling into the water. Drenched, he sat up, shaking. "... it is an old bridge... but that was my favorite sitting spot." With a huff, he shook it off. Sitting on the grassy bank, he casted his line out... but his fishing rod snapped, the other end falling in the water and quickly down the river. Snufkin got up and ran down the bank, trying to catch it, but a tree root sticking out tripped him. He watched helplessly as his other send of the fishing rod floated away. "My favorite fishing pole!" he grunted. He groaned and sat up, now being wet and filthy of dirt. He went to the edge of the water and washed his face and then back to the tent. He sat by the firepit, getting a fire started. "Might as well dry off and see what I can do next..." And so, he clapped two rocks together and when there was smoke, he blew on it a bit. Dark clouds rumbled through, rain starting to sprinkle. Snufkin looked up as the heat of the fire pit went away. Snufkin looked down at the pit, shock and dismay on his face. He got up, jumped out and screamed in anger and fits. Now... it was not the perfect day. The rain poured down, Snufkin huffing and sitting out in the rain. He covered his head with his hat, however, nature didn't give up on him yet. The hat blew away with the wind, Snufkin gasping, but easily gave up, crossing his arms. Moomin, meanwhile, looked outside at the rain from the window in the living room. "Mama! It's raining hard out there...!" he exclaimed. "It's a good thing we're in here, then," she smiled, putting down a cup of cocoa and a bowl of soup. Moomin smiled and took a sip, then gasped. He saw something hit against the window. "... Snufkin's hat..." he frowned. "... Mama!" He ran to her as she was cleaning dishes. "Mama. I have a very important mission to do...!" "Is that so?" she smiled. "Yes," he nodded. "Snufkin's hat is here and he needs it back." "It's pouring outside, dear," she told him. "Exactly...! Snufkin needs his hat or his head will get cold and then he'll get sick...!" Moomimmama put down the dishes, thinking. She looked at the clock. "... Alright. But I want you back in ten minutes," she said. "Take someone with you." "Alright, I will! Thank you, mama!" Moomin ran to the living room, looking at his trusty friend, Sniff. "Sniff...! I'm going to give Snufkin's hat back. Do you want to come with?" "Huh? Me? In that storm...!?" he gasped. "I could get blown away or electrocuted or-" "I'll make sure you won't, I promise," Moomin swore. Sniff looked at Moomin and saw his worried face. Even though he knew this was dangerous, maybe he'd get a reward for having such bravery. "Hmmm alright, but I'll lead! I'm the brave one, after all!" Moomin chuckled and nodded. Sniff went outside, looking at the rain and thunder. "... on second thought, you should lead. I could... catch you when you fall!" "Good idea...!" Moomin nodded. Moomin led the way, going to Snufkin's tent, but before he went in, he looked over, Snufkin was sitting in the grass. "Snufkin! It's raining!" Sniff called out. Snufkin just curled up more, eyebrows furrowed. "Snufkin, please get up...!" Moomin went to him. He tried taking Snufkin's arm and he was thinking about swatting Moomin away, but he decided not to. Moomin got Snufkin up and led him back to the house. Moominmama looked over and gasped. "Snufkin! You're drenched...! I'll make some soup and coffee for you, right away. Moomin, take him upstairs and warm him up, your room is the warmest." "Got it, mama...!" Moomin nodded. "Wait, his room is the warmest?" Sniff's eyes opened wide. "Moomin, can I come with?" "Sure!" Moomin giggled. And so, they went to Moomin's room, Moomin sitting Snufkin down on the desk chair. "Snufkin, do you have any dry clothes with you?" Snufkin didn't say anything. "... Snufkin, Moomin asked-" "I know what he said," he grunted, interrupting Sniff. "... Snufkin, this isn't like you..." Moomin frowned. "What's going on? "Nothing..." "You can't be sad for no reason," Sniff pointed out. "I said nothing." "Snufkin, I just-" "Look, my fishing pole broke, the railing of the bridge snapped, my hat flew away, I fell in the dirt, twisted my ankle, didn't get breakfast, tried to start a fire but it decided to rain, and I thought it was going to be a good day, but it wasn't...!" Sniff and Moomin hushed, Snufkin lowering his head. "... sorry... I didn't mean to snap..." "It's alright, Snufkin..." Moomin put his hand on Snufkin's shoulder, but Snufkin felt like he was about to cry. He was so stressed and angry, he felt like he couldn't take it. However, it was hard to hide that without his hat. "... are you about to cry?" Sniff asked. "N-No...!" Snufkin lowered his face. "No I'm... not..." Moomin frowned and started to think. When he was sad, what would Moominmama do? He thought and thought and thought. Moominmama came in, smiling. "Snufkin, I brought you some dry clothes," she told him. She put down some dry clothes and then left the room. Snufkin sighed and went to the bathroom with the clothes to change. "... Sniff, I have an idea," Moomin smiled. "Huh? What is it?" Sniff wondered. Moomin whispered in his ear, Sniff gasping and giggling. When Snufkin came back, he had long green pajama pants and a white shirt. His hair was still wet and he took off his wet socks and boots, so he was barefoot. "Do they fit?" Moomin asked. "The shirt's a little big, but yes, they fit," he sighed. "Snufkin, I understand that you're sad..." Moomin frowned. "But we're best friends!! You, me, and Sniff! So I want to help you any way I can!" With that, Moomin hugged Snufkin, smiling. "Me, too!" Sniff joined the hug. Snufkin stayed still and then smiled, hugging back. "NOW!!" Moomin's charge cry made Snufkin jump as Sniff and Moomin carried Snufkin to the bed, Sniff holding his arms up. "M-Moomin! What's going on!?" "We're going to cheer you up!!" he answered with a beam. "... h... how...?" "Tickling you!" they both chuckled. Snufkin's eyes were in shock. His ears couldn't believe what they heard. "Y-you're bluffing...!" he gasped. "Is this bluffing?" Moomin added. He began to lightly tickle Snufkin's sides. Snufkin clenched his teeth, trying not to laugh. Maybe if he didn't laugh, they'd let go of him? "Come on, laugh, Snufkin...!" Moomin lightly ordered, tickling faster. Some squeaks were heard from Snufkin as he squirmed, a wobbly smile forming on his face. Sniff finished trying Snufkin's wrists to the bed frame with Snufkin's scarf and then poked both of Snufkin's underarms. With a shocked look, Snufkin finally laughed out. "Nooohahahahahahaa!!" "Ah! Good job, Sniff!" Moomin giggled. "Naturally," Sniff smirked. He tickled up and down Snufkin's ribs, him thrashing and laughing hysterically, squeaking every now and then. "Staahaahahahahahahahap!! Haahahahahahaahahahaahaa!!!" "Not until you're all better, Snufkin...!" Moomin told Snufkin. "I aahaahaaahahaham!!! I'm beehehehehehetter!! Haahahahahahahahaa!!" "I don't believe you," Moomin shook his head. He tickled his stomach above his shirt, Snufkin trying to curl up. Moomin noticed this and sat on his legs. "Naahahahahat there hahaahahahahahahahaha!!! Moohoohoohoomin noohahahahahahahahaa!!" Sniff worked on Snufkin's sides, ribs, and armpits, making Snufkin a laughing, squirmy worm. He couldn't believe Sniff and Moomin would gang up on him. "I wonder where else you're ticklish..." Sniff tapped his chin. Snufkin's shirt rode up a bit from the squirming, Moomin seeing his bellybutton. He smiled and used his tail to tickle it. "AAAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!!!! NOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!!! STAAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAP!!!!!" "Woah!! I found a super ticklish spot!" Moomin giggled. "Sniff! In my drawer, I have a feather collection from birds! Can you get it?" "NOOOHHAHHAHAHAHAA!!! DOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOON'T!!!!" "Right away, Moomin!" Sniff ran to the desk and opened a drawer, seeing a cardboard box. He brought it to Moomin, him opening the box, stopping the tickling. Snufkin breathed in and out, giggling still. When he saw Moomin pull out a long crow's feather, he began squirming again, his smile coming back. "W-wahahait!! No!" "But isn't this fun, Snufkin?" Moomin tipped his head. Honestly, Snufkin was having the time of his life. He loved being tickled dearly, but he didn't want to let that show. But it was too obvious by Snufkin's blush. "N-No...!" "I think he's lying!" Sniff called him out. "I think so, too," Moomin giggled. "Wait!! NononoNOOAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAAA!!!!" Moomin dipped and twirled the feather into Snufkin's naval, him screaming and thrashing. Sniff worked on Snufkin's belly while Moomin was busy with the giggle button, which was now a screaming hysterics button. "I know you're enjoying this!" Sniff teased. "You're laughing and smiling!" "DOOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAN'T TEEHEEHEEHEEHEEASE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!" "You're so cute like this, Snufkin!" Moomin joined in, smirking. "You should laugh like this more often!" "NOOOHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAA!!! STAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAP!!!" "Hmm... I think that's enough of his belly and sides, Sniff," Moomin declared. They both stopped, Snufkin praising the lords they stopped, but also a little disappointed. "Now for his feet!" Now the fear came back, along with a little joy. "Wait!! Nonono!!! Not my feet!!!" He curled his toes, but Sniff held them up. Just the fur from Sniff's fingers made Snufkin giggle. "Don't worry, we're almost done...!" However, it seemed Sniff had a different idea. He whispered to Moomin, Moomin smiling and nodding. "Unless you want to admit you like this," Sniff smirked. Snufkin's face turned pale, and then rose red. "N-n-no! I-I don't like this!!" "Well then we won't stop until you admit it. There are plenty of places to tickle on the foot." Snufkin turned even more red, but then he gave a determined face. "You c-can tickle me all you want, but I won't admit it because there's nothing to admit!" "Alright then!" Snufkin thought that would work, but it seemed it didn't. Sniff held his toes up still as Moomin began to saw between them with the crow's feather. Snufkin roared out, tightening his fists and hollering. "NAAAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHA!!!!! OHOHOHAHAHAHAHA MY GAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAD!!!!" He could feel each little hair on the feather go back and forth. His back bounced on the bed, belly vibrating with laughter. Sniff took another feather, using one free hand to tickle his sole with a peacock feather. Snufkin screeched in ticklish agony and fun, tears starting to prick the sides of his eyes. "It seems someone's VERY ticklish on his feet!" Moomin smiled. "Hey Moomin!" Sniff got his attention. "How about you hold up the other set of toes and I tickle those toes, too?" "NOOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!!!! DOOHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAN'T!!!! IT TIHAHAHAHAHAHACKLES SO MAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHACH!!!!" "Sounds like a good idea!!" And so, Sniff still held up the left foot toes, Moomin continuing to saw between them with his crows feather, then Moomin held up his right foot toes, Snufkin slipping his peacock feather in between. However, since it took effort to fit it in between and the feather being super fluffy, it was even more hell on Snufkin. "AAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!!!! NOOOHAHAHAHAHAA!!!!! STAAAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAAP!!!!! STAAAHAAHAHAHAAAHAAHAHAHAAP PLEEHEEHEEEHEEHEEHEHEEASE!!!!!" Snufkin thrashed and wiggled and screamed and laughed. Finally, he knew what he had to do. As Moomin and Sniff tickled under his toes, Snufkin shrieked, tears rolling down his cheeks. "OOAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAKAAAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAAY!!!!! I LIIHAHAHAAHAAHAHAAKE IT!!!! I LIHAHAAAHAHAAKE BEEHEEHEEHEEEING TICKLED!!!! PLEEHEEHEAHAHAHAHAASE STAAAHAAHAHAAAAHAHAHAHAP!!!!!" "Hmmm are you sure?" Sniff teased again. "I think he is sure, Sniff," Moomin nodded. They both stopped, Snufkin gulping in air, giggling. Moomin got off his legs and untied his wrists, Snufkin immediately curling up, squeezing his toes together. "Aahahahahaha... hahaha... m-my belleeheehee..." "Are you okay, Snufkin?" Moomin asked. Snufkin wheezed and panted some more before sitting up, giggling a little. "Y-yeheheeah... yeah I'm fine..." "Snufkin! Soup and coffee is ready!" "I'll get it for you!" Moomin smiled. He saw Sniff's ler face, grabbing his hand. "Come on, Sniff." "Awww buzzkill..." Moomin and Sniff went downstairs, Snufkin getting some more breaths before smiling, looking at the door. Looks like this turned out to be the perfect day, after all.

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