i have a headcanon that snufkin cannot smile when he's asked to. he can only smile naturally when he feels genuinely happy.

When you disappear (Invisible Snufkin)

7) Valley fever

(Links at the end of the chapter.)

Snufkin over the next few days has seemed a lot weaker or noisier in ways one does not hope for.

Many a time The Joxter would wake up in the night to hear Snufkin sneezing or coughing but if he ever tries to help, Snufkin would just pull the blanket over his head, not wanting to be an issue.

One morning Snufkin looked down at his hands to see them fading again. He quickly shoved them in his pockets while feeling dread. Joxter was so happy about his hands being visible and he was messing that up.

He really is just being a problem isn't he?

....

Snufkin and Joxter slowly made their way down a trail in the woods when Snufkin started stumbling and swaying.

"...Hey, are you alright?"

Snufkin paused for a moment before nodding... and falling over.

Joxter quickly caught Snufkin before he could hit the ground. "I don't think you actually are alright."

Snufkin leaned against Joxter and slowly shook his head.

Joxter winced; what does this no mean? He gently scooped Snufkin up. "Come on, we're getting you help."

Snufkin shook his head again.

"Hey, I told your mother I would take you to Moominmamma if you got sick and that is exactly what I am doing."

Snufkin wanted to refuse but he didn't want to press anything.

Joxter shifted Snufkin into a more comfortable position before continuing down the trail. As they went along Joxter would look around them, seeing how the area was green and slowly flowering, just as an early spring should be.

"Moominmamma and papa should be out of their hibernation by now; Moomintroll too."

Snufkin has noticed how Joxter talks about the Moomins a lot. As far as he could gather from all of the little stories or comments he's heard, Moominpapa and Joxter used to be good friends who would travel around together until Joxter met Mymble. He and his adventuring friends would live in the valley together until Mymble moved on with her kids which reminded Joxter how much of a wandering spirit he was himself. He invited Moominpapa to come along but he had recently himself come across a wonderful Snorkmaiden who became his wife. Those two eventually had Moomintroll around when Joxter left the valley.

Joxter has seemed excited to see his old friends again, though he had been hoping under better circumstances.

....

After an hours walk where Snufkin had been dozing in and out of consciousness, the two arrived in what Joxter said to be Moominvalley.

The valley was very green and big. There were trees scattered about and a river that cut through the valley. Coming out from the forest there was a path leading over a bridge and up a hill to a house that looked vaguely like a blue lighthouse though there was no light at the top.

Snufkin tried to get down but Joxter held onto the boy who then crossed his arms.

"I'll let you down when I think you would be alright."

Snufkin huffed and looked down at his smock.

Joxter walked up to the door and knocked nice and loud which lead to the sounds of Moomins inside calling out that they will get it.

After a few short moments a Moomin in a red and white striped apron tied around her waist opened the door. "Hello Joxter. It certainly has been a while hasn't it."

Joxter nodded with a smile. "It really has Moominmamma."

"Would you come in? I'll have tea ready in just a moment." Moominmamma stepped out of the way to let the two in.

Joxter stepped in. "I would love tea but Snufkin here..."

Moominmamma looked at the invisible child in Joxter's arms. If Snufkin could blush now would be the time he would... if he wasn't already red from fever.

"Oh the poor child. I'll see what my grannie's book has on this."

"With all due respect Mama, do you think you have something on colds? Snuffy being invisible is an issue but, he seems to be sick."

Snufkin once again tried to climb out of Joxter's arms and so Joxter sat him on the couch. Snufkin decided then to try to stand up but stopped after a coughing fit over took him.

Moominmamma frowned. "I'll get right on it, and some tea. That should at least help with his throat."

Snufkin nodded while the Joxter smiled appreciatively. "Thank you so much."

"Of course." Moominmamma went into the kitchen just as another Moomin in a top hat descended down the stairs.

"My, is that my old friend I hear?"

Joxter grinned as he looked at the Moomin. "Moominpapa it's so good to see you!" The two shared a quick embrace before stepping back. "You seem to be doing well old friend."

Moominpapa gave a quick nod. "Yes, my memoir is going quite smoothly. I'd call Moomintroll to come see you but he is out with his friend Sniff and Little My."

Snufkin moved himself to the corner of the couch and listened. He kept hearing more and more names and he certainly remembered Little My. How many people were here?

Joxter glanced back at his son for a moment. "It's fine. I'm not going to stop him from playing with his friends or anything. They should have their own adventures."

Moominpapa curtly nodded. "Exactly! Adventures are what make life rich! It's what creates the stories that are so fun to tell!"

"Yes because all the stories do have all of those details." Joxter smiled with an eye-roll.

Moominpapa laughed before noticing the floating hat on the couch and so walked around it. "And who might you be?"

Snufkin looked up at Joxter who answered. "This is my son Snufkin. He joined me on my adventures this time around didn't you Snufkin?"

Snufkin nodded.

"Ah so you two must have many tales to tell then."

Snufkin considered for a moment before nodding again.

"We came by the Groke again." Joxter seemed to speak solemnly, as if saying her name would send a chill down anyone's spine. It certainly did for Moominpapa.

"The Groke? I didn't realize she was around these parts now."

"Just about three days walk, though she may be farther now."

This was about when Moominmamma returned with some tea that she handed to Snufkin and Joxter who thanked her in their respective ways.

As Snufkin sipped his tea, Joxter frowned at the sight of Snufkin's hands. He could have sworn Snufkin was getting better but...

"Joxter?"

The man looked up Moominmamma.

"Granny's book has infallible cures for Snufkin if you would want to help with them?"

"I- Of course mamma. I'll be right back Snuffy." Joxter swiftly followed Moominmamma into the kitchen.

Snufkin nodded but that nickname was seriously getting irritating.

Not too long after, the front door swung open revealing a shorter Moomin.

"Papa? Did-" The young Moomin looked over at the invisible child on the couch who gave a short wave.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading this! This is really fun to write and just, thank you!

First: https://e7y1.tumblr.com/post/184668166579/when-you-disappear-invisible-snufkin Last: https://e7y1.tumblr.com/post/189118879496/when-you-disappear-invisible-snufkin Next: TBA

Muddler was fussing with something in the dirt by his coffee tin when Joxter strolled up to Hodgkins little shed of a house. He couldn’t quite see what it was, but it seemed to be causing the mouse quite a bit of frustration.

“Oh! Move already! You never move. Why won’t you?” Muddler said, his shoulders slumping as he poked at the little object.

Joxter had been steadily striding up to him, but he thought better of it and announced his presence to his friend so as to not startle him, but he flinched and squeaked anyway.

“What are you fiddling with, Muddler?”

The mouse moved aside for his friend and made a space for him to sit, showing him what it was he’d been doing.

A dead, dried frog sat between them. It’s stiff, little body was sideways in the dirt and two of its legs were sticking up in the air.

This wasn’t the first time Muddler had shown him this particular collectable. It had been hopping happily the week before, when the mouse had first caught it. He’d been beaming at Joxter over his little accomplishment.

Now the poor thing had dehydrated to death.

“They always do this! I went t..to take him from his box and he looked like this. I thought the fresh air would help, but...” Muddler looked dejectedly at the little, dead frog, clearly not understanding quite what was going wrong with every creature he caught.

“I’m sorry, Muddler,” Joxter said, taking the little creature up in his hands and standing. “I think the poor thing had lost its life.”

“Oh, you d..don’t mean- I killed it... Oh dear...”

He looked like he was about to cry and rightfully so. He had never quite grasped the concept of death or the keeping of pets. Every little animal he tried to care for always ended up dead or escaped.

“I’m afraid so. Don’t you worry, though. It’s quite small and has a short life. It was probably already very old.”

“But... I still killed it...” The mouse sniffled and wiped his eyes with his sleeve, beginning to pick at the fur on his ears. “I murdered it...”

They stopped at the edge of the river and Joxter placed the frog gently in the water by the bank, letting the current take it where it pleased. 

“It’s returned to nature. There’s no need to cry. We all end up like this little frog, eventually.”

“Oh, but Joxter, I d..don’t want you to die! Or Hodgkins, for that matter! I’d miss you both terribly!”

“We have a while to go, yet, sweet mouse. There’s no need to fret.”

“But what if I dry you out, too?”

Joxter couldn’t stop the hearty chuckle that bubbled up in his body and received an exasperated look from the nervous mouse next to him. How sweet he was.

“Don’t be silly! It would take ages to dry us out.” He wiped the tears that had built up in his eyes from his laughter. “Come on, Muddler, why don’t you let me help you make a proper home for your next pet?”

“Oh, but is it wise for me to have another? It never ends well!”

“We can care for it together.”

“Really? You would want t..to care for something? You? And with me, as well? Are you absolutely sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“But the responsibility! I know you hate it. Won’t that be an issue?”

“Not at all. How would I have children if I can’t take care of a little frog?”

“Children! You? I thought you’d never want to settle down!”

“I always come back to you, don’t I?”

The mouse blushed and brought his scarf up to his face, though it did very little to hide his feelings from the Joxter.

“You d..do...” He perked up and turned away from him, walking steadily back toward his tin and changing the topic. “Well, let’s get t..to work on that frog home!”

Joxter couldn’t help but smile at his friend as he followed suit.

“Yes, let’s.”

Spring Flowers

TW: ...

I will mention that this was made at a very late time. So.. I apologise for any messy sentences.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Eight

Moomintroll was out chasing Little My back into the house after she ran back out, while Snorkmaiden was sitting on the sofa. Moominmama was happily humming as she made some jam. Snorkmaiden headed into the kitchen, wondering if she could try some of the lovely strawberry jam Mama was making.

"What's making you so cheerful?" Snorkmaiden giggled. She smelled the sweet scent of the berries and smiled.

"I'm afraid I cannot tell you. It's not my decision to tell you, it's Moomin and Snufkin's." Mama responded, pouring some jam into a jar. "Here, can you take this jar to Moominpapa? He's upstairs." She handed her the jar.

"Alright." Snorkmaiden stepped upstairs, holding the jar closely. As she walked up the stairs, she wondered how Snufkin was doing. After all, he hadn't left Moomintroll's room. Perhaps he really was weaker than she thought. She knocked softly on the bedroom door. A quiet mumble could be heard, followed by some shifting.

"Moomintroll?"

"No, it's Snorkmaiden. May I come in? I need to talk to you."

"Ah, ok. Come in."

Snorkmaiden opened the door, a vaguely upset expression leaving her face. She set the jar down and was about to begin speaking when a startled sound was heard coming from Moominpapa's study, followed by a crash. Snorkmaiden and Snufkin's ears perked up instantly.

"What was that?" Snufkin raised an eyebrow. Snorkmaiden shrugged and grabbed the jar of jam.

"I'm going to go make sure Moominpapa isn't hurt or something awful like that." Snorkmaiden dashed out of the room and all the way to Moominpapa's study. As she got there, she was very puzzled. A creature who looked just like Snufkin was sitting on Papa's desk. His expression was much like a mischievous cat's. He had much darker fur and was certainly much older.

"Moominpapa, are you alright?" Snorkmaiden asked, setting the jam down on a small table.

"Yes, I'm quite alright." Moominpapa answered, standing up and picking up his hat off the floor. After giving it a quick dusting off, he put it back on and was about to speak again. Until the other fellow spoke.

"Moominpapa? When did that happen?" The mumrik snickered. "Last I heard you were just Moomin."

"Well.. it has been nearly twenty years since I last heard from you, Joxter." Moominpapa began picking up papers that Joxter supposedly knock over.

"Joxter?" Snorkmaiden was very confused. "Isn't that Snufkin's Dad?"

"Yes." Moominpapa nodded.

"Does he know about the flower thing?"

"Wait, what happened to him?" Joxter sat up a little straighter. He seemed genuinely concerned for a moment. His normally sly expression dropped.

"Well, I don't know much about what happened.. You would have to speak to either Moomintroll or Snufkin." Snorkmaiden answered.

"Can I go speak to Snufkin? Is he around?"

"Well, he might be sleeping right now. I suggest asking Moomintroll..."

Moomintroll had finally been able to come back inside after Little My wore him out. He walked up the stairs to his room, eager to check on his boyfriend. He walked into his room, happy to see Snufkin looking healthier.

"Hello, Snufkin! I'm back." Moomintroll said in a cheerful tone.

"Hello Moomin!" Snufkin smiled, sitting up a little. Moomintroll sat on the end of the bed, happy to see the mumrik.

"So, how are you feeling?" Moomintroll asked.

"I'm feeling better." Snufkin responded. "I don't feel as tired."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Moomintroll and Snufkin both smiled brightly. Then there was a moment of quiet.

"Hey Moomintroll?"

"Yes?"

"Can I.. Can I kiss you?" Snufkin's face was dusted with pink, and so was Moomintroll's. They both looked at each other for a moment. Then Moomin let out a nervous chuckle.

"Of course." Moomintroll was expecting a moomin kiss. But Snufkin had a completely different idea. He tilted his Partner's head up and pressed his lips against Moomin's lips- a mumrik kiss! Once they broke it, Moomin looked utterly confused.

"What was that?" Moomin asked.

"Oh. I forgot we kiss differently. It's how mumriks, mymbles, most folks with small noses kiss." Snufkin explained. "A-And there's nothing wrong with.. or umm.. uhh.."

"Shh, it's alright. I didn't take offense to the nose thing. You were just trying to explain something." Moomintroll tried to sound as reassuring as possible. "Hey.. I have an idea. What if we combine the two? It could be like our own little kiss!"

"That sounds nice. I guess I would just do this?" Snufkin leaned forward and softly pressed his lips on Moomin's nose. When he pulled back, he chuckled a little. Moomintroll looked very flustered.

"You look very silly, Moomintroll." The mumrik smirked. "It's quite adorable."

"I do not!" Moomin blushed and pouted. "You're the one who looks adorable. I'm not cute. That's childish-" Snufkin cut him off with another mumrik kiss. Which of course, Moomintroll appreciated. Then there was a knock on the door. Snufkin and Moomintroll jumped away from each other. Snufkin went back to being under the blankets, and Moomin stood up.

"Y-Yes?" Moomin answered.

"Hey, we have a guest who would like to see Snufkin. Can he come in?" Moominmama asked. Moomintroll turned to Snufkin, giving him a look of "yes or no?"; then he nodded yes.

"He says yes." Moomin responded. Then, they opened the door and Joxter walked inside the room. His cat-like eyes widened as he saw Snufkin laying down in bed.

"Snufkin?"

Next Chapter

It was a rather dull day; the rain didn’t seem to want to let up, and Moomin found himself stuck inside the ship with the most annoying member currently sitting across from him at the table. He would rather be spending his time anywhere else but here. Joxter and Hodgkins had shooed him away while they worked on the engine, leaving the troll to find something else to entertain him.

He thought he could find that something in the form of food, but now he had lost his appetite the longer he had to sit here, listening to the other hum like a love-struck child as he made some sort of craft. 

“What are you doing?” Apparently, the question was not what Muddler had expected, and he squeaked in surprise as he looked up at Moomin, a small smile forming on his lips. 

“I’m m...making a bracelet for Joxter.” 

The answer had Moomin raising an eyebrow “A bracelet? What for?”

“W…Well, I wanted to give him something nice that wouldn’t be too much to c...carry when he travels.” 

The frustration Moomin was feeling started to develop into something more akin to jealousy. He could tell from the very beginning that Muddler had been harboring a crush for the Mumrik; every look directed towards Joxter was filled with nothing but love and Moomin couldn’t stand it. He had a crush on Joxter as well, he was a fine man and entirely unattainable, if anyone were going to win over his affection it would be Moomin; not a stuttering mouse. 

Muddler hummed in delight pulling Moomin from his thoughts. The boy had finished what he was working on, and Moomin was quick to snatch it from him, looking it over with a sneer on his face. 

“He’s not a child, he’s an adult. Joxter isn’t going to want something like this.” The delight he feels as Muddler quickly covers the bracelet on his own wrist with his sleeve eases his anger, he decides to continue. “I feel bad for you, I truly do.” 

Moomin speaks without looking up at Muddler, keeping his focus to the bracelet between his fingers. 

“W-What?”

“He’s never going to like you back, you know, you’re the farthest from his type than it gets.” 

He’s looking at Muddler now, watching as the other shrinks in on himself, tears already springing to his eyes and he looks down at the table. 

“He wants someone who likes adventure, who isn’t afraid to get out in the world. Not someone afraid of their own shadow, who makes bracelets like a child.”

He hands back the bracelet, taking in the way fat tears roll down Muddler’s cheeks. 

“Well... I’ll leave you to finish your toy...” 

With that, he stands up, leaving Muddler alone in the kitchen to cry by himself. He feels satisfied, all feelings of jealousy quickly fading from him as he heads to his room for the night. He’s more than pleased to see the bracelets in the trash the next morning.

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

Joxter doesn't expect to find such wonderfully crafted bracelets in the trash; the colors have been worked tightly together, one mostly red with a line of blue woven down the middle, the other blue with a line of red. Clearly, this was Muddler’s work. It was strange of him to make something of this quality just to get rid of it.

He cleans them up the best he can, taking them to the closed tin that always sits on the deck. Joxter knocks softly, as not to scare the boy inside.

 "Mouse? Can you open up for me?" 

Joxter hears shuffling, then a 'pop,' and the lid creaks open enough for Muddler to look out, his eyes red and swollen from crying. Joxter wants to ask what's wrong, but something tells him the bracelets he's holding are the answer.

"I found these." Joxter holds the bracelets up for Muddler to see, surprised when Muddler's face twist into one of shame. 

"I... I-I didn't mean for you too... I'm sorry, I know they're childish, I tried to get rid of them."

Joxter looks at the other in confusion. Childish? Where had this come from? 

“Mouse, I think these are rather lovely, would you mind if I keep one?” He watches the way Muddler searches his face for any signs of deception, like he was trying to catch him admitting that he had feelings for the other so he could scold him.

“U-Um...” Muddler fiddled with his hands, taking the bracelets out of Joxter’s hands. When Joxter didn’t say anything, Muddler tied the blue one back on his own wrist, motioning for Joxter to give him his hand.

“I-I made this for you... for when you travel, to think of me.” He finished tying the bracelet around the Mumrik’s wrist, bringing out his own to compare it next to Joxter’s.“T-The blue in yours represents me... For when you travel and get lonely...” 

Joxter smiled at the blush forming on Muddler’s cheeks could feel the longer he spoke, nodding in encouragement for him to continue. 

“The red in mine... It represents y-you... For when I get scared that you’re gone...”

He could tell Muddler was embarrassed, he quickly spoke to keep the other from shutting him out. 

“That’s very thoughtful, I love it.” He was smiling, looking over the bracelet that now sat upon his wrist. “Thank you, mouse, this will help me when I get lonely.” 

Muddler had smiled, and Joxter knew now was the best time to confess his own feelings. 

“Mouse, may I give you a present in return?” Muddler looked up, a surprised look on his face. “O-Oh um... yes?”

Joxter chuckled, instructing Muddler to close his eyes. 

“Ready?” 

Muddler nodded, waiting anxiously for his present. He squeaked when Joxter pressed his lips against his. Joxter pulled back, looking up at the now fully blushing boy. 

“A wonderful gift, indeed.”

Protective Joxter?

this got…..so much longer than i was expecting…………..so it is in 2 parts. have some father + son bonding between 2 people who have no idea how to be a father and a son :)

all you gotta do’s knock on my door (1 of 2)

the moominspairing: the joxter & snufkin word count: 2048read on ao3

(next chapter)

x

There is company just beyond the light of his campfire; Snufkin has a certain sense for these things, lifting night-eyes to scan the woods around him. Everything is gray in the daybreak, hard to make out, but he still finds what he’s looking for.

“I know you’ve been following me since I left town,” Snufkin says mildly. He stirs the pot of stew with a patient hand. “There’s plenty here for the both of us if you’d like to join me.”

After a moment, someone drops down from a nearby tree. He pads over the leaves and forest litter without making a sound and settles down an arm’s length away from where Snufkin is sitting. His legs are folded up, arms draped over his knees, as if he absolutely needs to be in position to nap at a moment’s notice.

Snufkin smiles. His usual reaction to this particular creature is fond amusement, and tonight is no different.

“Hi, Dad.”

The Joxter tilts his head, blinking slowly. In the low light of pre-dawn, his eyes are very dark; or it could be his round pupils, swallowing up all the blue.

“H’llo, Snufkin,” he says, voice a lazy stretch, like taffy left out in the sun. “You don’t mind the company?”

They’re two of the same, and Snufkin knows his father would leave without ire or hurt feelings if Snufkin asked him to. As it is, though, “Not at all. I won’t be alone for much longer anyway. Spring is here, and it’s only two more days to Moominvalley.”

It’s unnecessary to point out, because the Joxter is probably familiar with the way himself by now. Since meeting Snufkin there two years ago, an adolescent son he had never known about, the Joxter has made it a point to spend at least summers in the valley. It’s common ground for them both, an easy place to navigate newfound family or peel away for time alone or time with friends.

Sometimes the Joxter leaves early, too restless to sit still, and Snufkin doesn’t begrudge him that. They always cross paths again on the road at some point, or in some faraway city or unmapped village, so there’s never any true need for goodbyes.

Snufkin is beginning to think his father is keeping loose tabs on him. This early morning is a perfect example. He just can’t think of why, when they both know Snufkin is self-sufficient, and has been since he was very small.

“Three days,” contests the Joxter, chin sinking down to rest on his knees. “You don’t sleep enough.”

Snufkin ignores the remark comfortably, passing him a bowl of the finished stew. His father gets most of the meat in his serving, and Snufkin most of the vegetables, and they’re both content as they tuck into the warm meal.

The peace lasts for about three minutes after that, and then a sudden frantic voice from overhead has Snufkin jumping in surprise.

“You there! Little snufkin! Won’t you help me?”

“Oh, dear,” Snufkin says, setting his food aside and climbing to his feet. There’s a bluebird swooping in frantic circles above his camp, and it can hardly calm down long enough to land on the arm he offers as a perch. “Slow down, my friend. What’s the trouble?”

“A snake came in the night and tried to eat my nestlings,” the bird cries. “My neighbors helped drive it away, but it upset the nest, and now my babies will fall!”

Alarmed, Snufkin skirts the fire and starts to run, without pausing even to grab his hat. “Lead me to it, and I’ll do my best to help.”

The bird takes flight and stays low, eye-level. The Joxter is keeping pace beside Snufkin on silent feet, curious and watchful.

“I forget that you can speak to birds,” the Joxter says. Birds avoid him, as do most small creatures, because he’s as much a predator as a snake in a nest. He knows better than to eat any of Snufkin’s companions, and generally has stopped offering to bring food to Snufkin’s campfire unless it’s fish. “How is it that you learned? It all sounds like chatter to me.”

Snufkin keeps his eyes on the bluebird so he doesn’t lose sight of it, even as he explains, “When I was young, there was no one else to talk to but the birds in the trees. After a while their music began to sound like language. It helps that I’m a good listener, I suppose.”

The Joxter doesn’t say anything after that, and it’s only moments later that they reach the bluebird’s tree. A quick glance doesn’t reveal any nests in precarious positions, so it must be on a higher bough. Snufkin spares a moment to wish he had had time to pull his smock on over his undershirt, because his arms will surely get scratched on the way up.

“I should do it,” his father says suddenly. “I’m the better climber.”

“They’re frightened enough as it is without you prowling around their babies,” Snufkin retorts, and eyes the lowest branch, which is still well above his head. His father has more than a foot of height on him, which lends itself to a handy solution, and he turns to wave the taller creature over. “Give me a boost, please. And then wait for me down here so you don’t send anyone into a fresh panic.”

Grumbling under his breath, the Joxter hoists Snufkin up enough that he can grab the branch and pull himself the rest of the way into the tree. Snufkin calls down his thanks, and the bluebird lands on his knee.

“This way,” it says, “not much farther! Oh, hurry!”

Snufkin follows it up easily, thanking all the warm afternoons he and his friends spent playing in the trees around the valley, because the experience certainly helps. His grip slips a few times, and once a branch bends beneath his weight, but he makes it to the nest without incident.

Right away, Snufkin can see the danger. The small bunch of branches the nest was safely built into are broken, the skirmish with the snake causing what was stable to lean hazardously to the side. The little ones inside have picked up on the bigger birds’ distress and their shrill cries work straight through Snufkin’s heart.

“Alright,” he says softly, “there’s no need to fear. I’ve got you.”

He works the nest into the cup of his palms and holds it carefully. The bluebird directs him to a new place for it, a hollow in the trunk that a squirrel helpfully surrendered, and Snufkin can only breathe easily again once the little nestlings are squared away inside.

“Thank you!” half a dozen birds seem to say at once, coming to perch on his arms or the branches around him. The mother bird adds, “To think what might have happened if I hadn’t found you— !”

Pleased with the positive outcome, Snufkin says, “Don’t think of might haves. You and your nestlings are safe and that’s all that matters. I’m happy I could help.”

He leans back to make room for yet another perching bird, shifting his footing as it flutters by, and something snaps beneath his boot. He realizes with a second to spare that he’s about to fall, and then there’s no time to grab hold of anything before the birds are shrieking in alarm, and gravity is snatching hold of his shirt and tugging him backwards, and Snufkin’s mind is blank with fear—

But he doesn’t hit the ground. He lands much sooner than that, against something much softer.  

Snufkin blinks, reorienting himself, and finds himself halfway down the tree, tucked securely between his father’s arm and chest.

“Ah,” the smaller snufkin says, more relieved than anything. “Thank you.”

The Joxter picks his way down carefully. His dark fur is raised, tail like a bottle brush, and his claws are caught in Snufkin’s shirt. He doesn’t let go until the ground is firm beneath their feet, and even then it takes him a long moment to decide to set Snufkin down.

“Next time,” the Joxter says slowly, “I am climbing. I would rather scare the little birds than watch you break your bones.”

Snufkin has to work not to roll his eyes. He’s a little hardier than that. It wouldn’t have been the first time he fell from a tree, and it surely won’t be the last. Not as long as there are little birds who need favors.

The Joxter seems to sense the repressed eye-roll and his own eyes narrow. The pupils in them are slitted now; Snufkin doesn’t think he’s seen them like that since the day they met, the day Moominpappa introduced them to each other and the Joxter startled so badly he dropped one of Moominmamma’s best teacups.

“A twenty foot fall is not nothing.” The Joxter’s quiet tone has taken a sharp turn. “If I hadn’t caught you—“

“But you did,” Snufkin says, his own hackles rising. These might haves again, and right after he told the bluebird not to think of them! “And I said thank you. There is nothing else to talk about.”

“We could talk about risking your life for an animal. A bluebird,” the Joxter says in distaste, “one of a hundred thousand bluebirds. What’s next? Will you help an injured creep cross the river? Save a squirrel kit from a landslide?”

An argument, Snufkin realizes, his stomach turning sour. He has witnessed the uncomfortable scene a dozen times before in a dozen places, a child and their parent screaming at each other in marketplaces or city squares.

The Joxter is taller than him, bigger, sharp where the Mymble’s blood made Snufkin soft. His voice is usually low and unobtrusive, a storyteller’s voice, but it sounds so different in anger. Snufkin wonders what it will sound like when he is shouting the way those other parents shouted, and a very cold feeling slides around inside him.

But Snufkin never learned how to back down. The orphanage matron tried to teach him but those lessons didn’t stick. Whether it’s park keepers, or the traveler who came through the valley last year and thought it was okay to call Sniff simple, or his own father, Snufkin stands his ground.

“There could be a hundred thousand snufkins just like me,” he shoots back. “Better snufkins, even, who can play more than just guitar and harmonica, who have never been invisible and never gotten lost and never fallen out of a tree. What makes me worth so much more than that bird?”

The Joxter surges a sudden step forward, and all of Snufkin’s courage deserts him. He ducks his head, missing his hat dearly, and braces himself for furious hands.

They don’t come. He opens his eyes.

His father is crouched in front of him, hands in his lap, eyes round and hurt. The anger, if it was ever anger, is gone. When he reaches out, Snufkin is ready for it this time, and he doesn’t move away. 

The Joxter’s dark paw lands very lightly on Snufkin’s auburn hair. It’s a gentle touch, and then it’s gone. The Joxter pulls back and straightens up and does a tidy disappearing act into the trees. Snufkin loses sight of him within moments.

It’s just Snufkin and the worried birds and the rising sun. Their comfortable breakfast feels like it happened a year ago.

He wraps his arms around his middle and stares at the ground. He doesn’t like arguments, for all that he can be contrary and difficult when his principles are fringed upon, when his personal boundaries are broken. Pulling up fences and signposts is one thing, but fighting with words? Just talking with words can sometimes be too much, let alone fighting with them. There is a reason he tends toward silence and solitude.

“If I didn’t have birds to talk to, I wouldn’t have anyone,” he murmurs miserably. “I’d drive them all away. All except dear Moomintroll.”

The name is like a balm, and Snufkin lifts his head to the north. Two days— less than, if he pushes himself— and he could see Moomin again. The one person whose welcome he’s never had to doubt.

Snufkin rushes back to the camp to pack his things. If he’s hoping to run into his father there, he’s sorely disappointed. But that’s only if.

Rainy Lullaby

A terrible storm hits Moomin valley and as everyone is taking refuge in Moomin house, Snufkin grows tired and falls asleep. As it turns out he falls asleep on Moomin and cuteness ensues.

Just another fluffy story before bed.

A storm was brewing outside Moominhouse, it was the last storm of spring. It crashed and boomed with such ferocity that it shook the house. Moomin’s family along with Sniff, Snufkin, and Little My were taking refuge in the house. Snufkin had been playing his trusty harmonica in order to distract from the booming outside. However it would only work for a little while until a particularly loud crash from outside would make Sniff cry out in fear. Little My found all of this terribly amusing and would laugh loudly at Sniff’s antics.

“I just get surprised that’s all.” Sniff would tell her, flushed with embarrassment.

“You have been surprised five times now. When are you going to toughen up?” Little My mocked.

“Now Little My, I can’t blame Sniff, the storm is ever so dreadful.” Moominmama defended gently.

“I am just so grateful that we are safe and warm.”

“Mama’s right.” Moominpapa agreed.

“I haven’t seen a storm like this in...well...quite some time. By the way how is your campsite Snufkin? I imagine it must be difficult to keep up with in this weather.”

Snufkin had stopped playing his harmonica when Sniff had let out his cry and turned to answer Papa.

“Yes it is. I’m afraid I haven’t got much sleep due to the wind, My tent is also coming apart and I fear it can’t stand in this weather.”

It was true, Snufkin had been running around for days keeping his campsite clear and finding caves to take refuge in. This night however was the worst and Mama insisted on Snufkin staying instead of searching for a cave out in the storm. Snufkin agreed not wanting to upset Moominmama or her son and he was much too tired to search anyway. There were deep bags under his eyes and his playing while still beautiful was much slower as well.

Moomin was sitting next to his friend and would occasionally glance at him in worry. Moomin knew Snufkin could take care of himself but he did feel much better to have him here. He would often worry when the weather took an unexpected turn, Snufkin would always be okay though.

“I hope the storm clears soon, I appreciate you letting me stay and sorry for any troubles.” Snufkin said looking towards Moominmama who was the caretaker of the house.

“Not at all Snufkin. You can stay as long as you like, none of us mind. Moomin especially loves having you over.” Mama replied, smiling at her son.

Moomin couldn’t help but blush at his mother’s words, it was no secret that Moomin really liked Snufkin. Snufkin smiled back at Moomin before yawning, he tried to cover it but he really was very tired. The storm was still raging but the thunder and lightning had calmed down, this didn’t help Sniff’s nerves as Little My would make loud sounds tormenting him.

“I swear I will get you back one day.” Sniff muttered to himself.

“Oh please, like a scaredy cat like you could scare me.” Little My boasted.

“Now Little My I am sure Sniff has had enough. Why don’t I make you a nice relaxing tea Sniff?” Moominmama offered.

“Yes please! Oh and do you have any delicious cakes or jams?” Sniff asked his fear quite forgotten.

“Why yes, in fact I made this rather scrumptious cake this morning. Moomin and Papa seemed to really enjoy it.”

“Very much so Mama, you really outdid yourself. In fact I wouldn’t mind having another slice right now.” Papa praised, getting up from his chair.

“Oh boy I can’t wait to have it. Let me help you Moominmama.” Sniff volunteered in excitement following Mama and Papa out of the room.

Hey wait. I want some cake too!” Little My called out, running after them.

The room was quiet now with the only sound being the wind and rain outside. Moomin turned to ask Snufkin if he wanted some cake too but instead felt a soft thump on his shoulder. Moomin was surprised to find Snufkin had fallen asleep on him with his hat tilted to one side threatening to fall off.

“Snufkin must be more tired than I thought.” Moomin told himself.

Snufkin looked quite content on Moomin’s shoulder and Moomin was unsure what to do with himself. Snufkin had never fallen asleep on the troll, preferring to sleep on the grass or inside his tent. Moomin debated waking him up, since he knew how much Snufkin liked his own space. He could always get the others to help him to a bed too so he wouldn’t wake up.

Then again Snufkin did seem comfortable and he wouldn’t have fallen asleep if he didn’t want to. It was a sign that Snufkin was comfortable with Moomin and it was this thought that warmed Moomin. Still maybe he should move Snufkin just in case…

During Moomin’s internal debate, he had begun to shift around a bit in worry and Snufkin felt it. Still asleep, Snufkin furrowed his brow and frowned, his soft, warm pillow was moving and he wanted it to stop. He let out a noise in disapproval and wrapped both arms around the pillow, burying his face into it. The moving stopped and Snufkin let out a sigh of contentment.

Moomin’s face felt like it was on fire from blushing and he swore he was no longer white but pink. Any thought of moving Snufkin had left his mind. Snufkin who was usually so closed off and reserved was now cuddling him like he was his favorite pillow. Snufkin’s hat had fallen off completely now, revealing his brown hair and Moomin could feel said hair brush against him everytime Snufkin breathed.

Moomin noticed how relaxed Snufkin looked and had the urge to wrap his arms around him. Moomin’s heart was pounding loudly and he wondered if Snufkin could hear it. Slowly and being careful not to disturb Snufkin as he rest, Moomin wrapped his arms around him. Snufkin seemed to like this and relaxed further into Moomin. Moomin remembered how his Mama used to rub his back to help him sleep better and decided that maybe Snufkin would sleep better if he did it.

Moomin began to slowly move his arm up and down Snufkin’s back. Snufkin seemed to like this and soon Moomin began to feel a deep rumbling sound that seemed to be coming from his friend. The sound grew and Moomin realized that Snufkin was purring like a cat. Moomin didn’t know Snufkin could purr but was delighted he could learn more about his friend. The sound wasn’t bad either and created a wonderful melody with the rain.

“Even asleep Snufkin makes the most beautiful music.” Moomin thought to himself.

“Sniff you klutz! You nearly ruined the cake!” Little my’s voice nearly made Moomin jump.

“Oh it was an accident. I never meant to trip honest.” Sniff defended himself.

Little My and the others had come back into the drawing room. Little My and Sniff were too engrossed in their conversation to notice Moomin and Snufkin. Moominmama and Papa however paused noticing the situation their son was in. Moomin for the third time that night felt a blush spread on his face.

“Oh dear Snufkin must be quite tired.” Mama said putting her slice of cake down.

“I will go check on the guest bedrooms and make sure they are ready.”

Papa had set down his slice of cake as Mama went upstairs.

“Do you need some help with Snufkin?” Papa asked his son.

“Oh no, it’s okay Papa. Snufkin is not that heavy besides he really is tired, he can stay a little longer.” Moomin replied, he still had some blush on his face.

“Wait a minute. What’s that sound?” Little My asked, finally done tormenting Sniff.

“Yeah. I hear it too, it almost sounds like a cat.” Sniff remarked, his ears twitching.

“Please keep it down, I don’t want to wake Snufkin.” Moomin hushed worried that the noise would disturb his friend.

Snufkin however didn’t seem fazed and continued his blissful purring.

“But I want to know where the sound is coming from.” Little My protested.

“Well if you must know, it’s coming from Snufkin.” Moomin replied in an attempt to quiet her down.

“Wow I never heard Snufkin make that sound before.” Sniff said in surprise.

“Ah yes now I remember, the Joxter, Snufkin’s papa, would make that sound as well.” Moominpapa informed.

“It’s just means he is comfortable and happy.”

Moomin was glad to hear this, he liked the sound and thought that Snufkin should make it more often.

“Happy huh. I bet Snufkin is not the only one who is happy.” Little My sent a grin towards Moomin.

Moomin scoffed at her but decided not to answer and simply went back to rubbing Snufkin’s back.

Eventually the room quieted down as Little My and Sniff ate their cake slices, no longer interested in Snufkin’s purring. Eventually Mama came down from the guest rooms and remarked how nice Snufkin’s purring was.

“It's nice to hear him make such a happy sound.” Mama said with a smile.

Moomin agreed but didn’t say so in fear that Little My would tease him more.

As Snufkin rested, Moomin soon began to feel tired himself. Snufkin was so warm against him with the purring creating a relaxing rhythm against the young troll. Moomin began to feel his eyes growing heavy, he rested his head against Snufkin’s, breathing in his scent and closing his eyes.

“Moomin, Moomin, wake up Moomin.” A soft voice was calling out, shaking Moomin awake.

The troll opened his eyes to see Snufkin awake and with his hat on.

“Oh Snufkin…” Moomin yawned. “How was your nap?”

Snufkin blushed pulling his hat over his face as he was reminded of the strange position he awoke in, as well as Little My’s teasing.

“It was good, I’m sorry for falling asleep on you.” Snufkin managed to get out.

Moomin couldn’t help but feel happy, remembering how it felt to have Snufkin cuddle him. He had even learned something new about Snufkin, despite the storm it had been a wonderful night.

“It’s alright Snufkin, I don’t mind if you take a nap on me. I am pretty comfy after all.” Moomin reassured his friend.

Snufkin nodded raising his head, he still had some blush on his cheeks.

“I will keep that in mind. Thank you Moomin.” Snufkin turned and began heading up the stairs.

“Come on, we best go to bed properly, everyone else is already asleep.”

Moomin agreed following Snufkin up the stairs. Once they reached the top Moomin wanted to ask if Snufkin wanted to sleep in his bed tonight. He held his tongue however, he didn’t want to pressure his friend after what already happened. They both said their good nights and separated. Snufkin went to the guest room that Moominmama setup and Moomin went to his own room.

The wind was howling louder now and the rain was still coming down. Moomin tossed and turned in his bed, feeling uneasy and cold despite his blankets and pillows. Moomin’s bed while not big felt much too huge and try as he might Moomin could not get to sleep.

“I wonder if Snufkin is asleep?” Moomin thought to himself.

“I wish he was here.”

After some more tossing and turning, Moomin heard a creaking coming from outside his door. He stopped moving and listened, soon the creaking stopped in front of his door and he heard the familiar sound of it opening. Moomin wondered if it was his mama coming to check on him, he rolled over only to be met with a surprise. Snufkin looking disheveled was quietly walking up to Moomin’s bed. His hair and clothes were messy like he had been doing his own tossing and turning not too long ago.

Snufkin stopped at the edge of Moomin’s bed and their eyes made contact. Without a single word, Moomin moved over to let Snufkin in his bed. Snufkin slide in next to Moomin and made himself comfortable, they were very close in the small bed that no longer felt big and cold.

“Good night Snufkin.” Moomin whispered.

“Good night Moomin.” Snufkin responded.

The wind and rain began to die down as Moomin and Snufkin fell asleep. A gentle purring could soon be heard coming from the room, creating a lovely lullaby to fall asleep to.

A Papa’s Past

When Joxter gets angry at an old joke of Mooimpapa’s, Snufkin learns something odd about his father, making him start to questions his family history.

A sort of AU that gives Joxter more of a backstory. Nothing is really changed in the future, I just couldn’t get this idea of a backstory out of my head. (this is the sad fic I mentioned yesterday)

“Son!” An angry women's harsh voice snapped at her child, calling him to her side, “What on Earth did you think you were doing?!” She hissed at the young man.

“I was just talking to the other boy, mother.” The child fiddled with the ends of his coat, looking sadly at the ground.

“That child is a peasant! He's beneath us!” She scoffed and grabbed his child by the wrist, “You just never talk to anyone like that again, understand me?”

“Yes, mother…” The child winced at how hard his arm was grabbed but did not pull away, not even when his mother began to drag him off. From over his shoulder, the child could see the poor boy who watched them leave and stared apologetically.

The beggar boy turned back to his own mother, who seemed a lot nicer than the rich boy’s mother, and he hugged her arm. The rich boy watched them until he could no longer see them.

Joxter woke up from the dream, laying in his tent in the early morning, blinking up at the small bits of sunlight that crept inside. He rolled onto his side and forced himself to stand.

“Guess it's that time of year, huh?” He said to only himself.

Joxter stood up and stretched his weary bones, his joints popped and cracked, then settled. He placed his lovely red hat on top of his unruly hair and stepped out into the morning light, yawning as the sun hit his face.

He started his fire and set some water to boil, catching sight of his tired reflection. Bags hung under his blue eyes, which seemed duller that morning. Had he really slept that bad that night? He blinked and rubbed his eyes, then splashed water from the river onto his face. He didn't want the others to see him looking so miserable.

When his morning routine was done, he began to amble along the path towards Moominhouse, his back slowly straightening and his face brightening, he really didn't want them to see his miserable like that.

This always happened, he'd spend the whole year just fine, then suddenly, he'd dream about them and have to remember that life. He hated that life and just thinking back to it made him miserable.

Joxter had been told once, that he had to tell people his problems, or they wouldn't get better, but he didn't like worrying people so he didn't.

He stopped at the bridge and looked over to his son’s tent, he could barely see inside, but it was enough to know that Snufkin wasn't in there.

“Must've gone inside…” he mumbled to himself and made his way up to Moominhouse, taking a deep breath before he barged in, in his usual chaotic manner.

Nothing seemed to be amiss with anyone, he lifted Snufkin's hat and messed up his hair before dropping it back on his head, Snufkin swatted at his hands in an attempt to keep him away.

He flopped down into a chair and looked at the children, who were all eating their breakfast and talking amongst themselves. Shutting his eyes and basking in how calm it was.

The young Snorkmaiden walked in, her face was twisted up to show that she was rather frustrated, not that Joxter saw it, since his eyes were closed.

“What's the matter, Snorkmaiden?” Little My asked before shoving almost an entire pancake into her mouth somehow.

“It's Snork…” She sighed and sat down, “He's become frustrated with his work again… He can't come up with any ideas…”

“What's he do for a living?” Joxter asked without opening his eyes.

“Oh, he's an engineer, ” Snorkmaiden answered, she hadn't actually noticed the Joxter, “he does a lot of inventing.”

“An engineer you say?” He blinked one eye open then sat up to look at her, he seemed very happy to learn of an engineer, “What's he like working on the most?”

“His flying ship of course, ” She beamed, very proud of how hard her brother works, “Why are you interested, are you an engineer?”

“Oh no, no!” Moominpapa interrupted with a laugh, as he walked into the room “I'm not even sure if Joxter can read!”

Joxter wasn't one for glaring, especially not at people he liked, like Moominpapa, however today he found himself glaring very hard at his dear friend.

“Of course I can read!” He hissed, “I have a degree you know!”

“Again with this degree!” Moominpapa wasn't being mean, he was joking around with the Joxter, “If you really have one, how come we've never seen it?”

“I've left it with Mymble! It's far too cumbersome to carry it around on my travels!” Joxter was sitting up fully and was in a very alert state.

“How convenient.” Moominpapa chuckled, his tone was playful, and he really did mean no harm, but the Joxter did not seem to realize that.

He bit his lip in a way that would keep him from shouting something very nasty and stood up. He pushed his chair in, in a rough manner (he still wanted to be polite, but he was very angry) and stormed right out of Moominhouse. Moominpapa went to the window to watch him leave, he seemed very confused by this before.

“This is hardly the first time that's been joked about, ” he tapped his chin, “and he's always laughed on with us.”

Snufkin started at the door his father left through, then looked back to his friends, who all seemed to share the confusion. Joxter didn't really ever get angry with people, and if he found himself getting really angry he'd excuse himself from the room, and never show how angry he was.

“I'd hate to think that we had been bothering him this whole time with that and he never said anything…” Moominpapa sounded regretful.

Little My turned to her brother and shrugged, “You know, I've seen the degree before, it's hanging on momma's wall, in her room.”

“Really?” Snufkin tilted his head, he didn't think his father was the studious type.

“Yeah, ” she nodded “it's from….” She paused and her face scrunched up as she began to think, “someplace called States-worth University… I think…”

Snufkin looked extremely shocked, and he dropped his fork from his hand. He traveled all around, and he knew a lot of things about all sorts of places, he knew exactly what kind of place States-worth was. He suddenly stood up and began to rush out of the house.

“Where are you going?” Moomintroll called out to him.

“I have to ask my papa something!” Snufkin called back, “I'll return later!”

He hurried across the bridge and along the river bank until he came to his father's campsite, he slid to a stop and caught his breath. Listening carefully. He heard a shuffling inside his father's tent, and he knew Joxter was here.

“Papa?” He walked to the tent's entrance, “Are you there?” He just had to be sure.

There was a long pause before Joxter finally answered with a tired “What…?”

Snufkin sat down outside of the tent, and didn't force his way inside, “Why did you get mad at Moominpappa?”

Joxter frowned and rolled onto his back, staring up at the sky, “I just…. It's only that… well… no, I don't think I can explain it… It's stupid anyway.”

He covered his face with his arm and hoped that Snufkin would be satisfied with that answer.

Snufkin thought about what he wanted to say next, then asked another question, “Did you really do to States-worth University?” He asked, his tone was low.

Joxter sat up quickly and struggled to find a response, he wasn't sure how Snufkin found out about this and he really didn't know what to say. He panicked a little before squeezing his eyes hit and taking a deep breath.

“Yes. Yes, I did.”

“That is one of the most prestigious schools, ever, only extremely well-off families can get in there!” Snufkin said to him, he was shocked before he had thought that Little My had only been messing with him, not telling the truth, but there was the truth all laid out in front of him.

“I know, I know!” Joxter covered his face with his hands and rubbed his eyes.

“How did you go there?” Snufkin pressed, leaning forward a bit.

Joxter opened the flap of his tent, and Snufkin leaned back in surprise, his father looked exhausted, “Fine. I'll tell you… It's your family too I suppose…”

He motioned for Snufkin to come in and Snufkin slowly crawled inside. Sitting across from his sad looking father.

“My parents, your grandparents, were an extremely well off family. Extremely well off.” Joxter sighed and leaned his face on his hand, “Growing up I went to all of the best schools there were, what a coincidence that they were all boarding schools.”

“I see…” Snufkin nodded and glanced around at his father now, it was hard to imagine he had once been rich.

“I never saw much of my mother or father, since every time I graduated from one school, I was shipped off to a new one.” He stared blankly at the ground, scratching marks into the dirt with the hand not supporting his head, “And when I was on break and back home, my parents just dragged me around to every fancy social gathering they could. So they could put me on a pedestal and show off how talented I was.”

Snufkin watched him, he didn't press his father to keep speaking, in fact, he figured Joxter was done there, but when he looked at Joxter's eyes, he saw there was way more that needed to be said.

“They didn't care about me, Snufkin. They just wanted a child that would make their family look good, and when I wasn't exactly what they wanted they….” He trailed off, his hands stopped moving, “they…” He squeezed his eyes shut, he really hadn't told anyone about this, and he found it hard to say, “They… Threw me out… Their own son…” He covered his eyes with his hands and leaned his elbows on his knees. He shook his head.

A silence filled the tent, neither of them knew what they could say. It felt like there was nothing to be said. Snufkin reached over and placed a hand on his papa's hand, suddenly removing Joxter that it was his son he was speaking too. When he lifted his head, Snufkin removed his hand and tried to smile at him.

“I'm sorry…” Joxter shook his head again, his breath was shaky, and he didn't want any of this to show.

“Why are you apologizing?” Snufkin asked perplexed “I'm the one who brought it up. I should apologize to you.”

“No, I'm not apologizing about all of, ” he gestured vaguely around himself, “this! I'm apologizing to you. I should have done it sooner.”

Snufkin still didn't really understand, and it showed on his face. When Joxter vaguely gestured to Snufkin, the confusion remained. Joxter sighed and rubber this face again.

“Your life?” He finally said, and it seemed to click fully for Snufkin on what he was saying.

“No need to apologize for that, I'm very happy!” Snufkin beamed at him.

“You grew up alone. In the woods. With no family.” Joxter reminded him, not that Snufkin really needed reminding, he just didn't want to bring that up.

Snufkin frowned, folding his arms, “Yes. I did. Did it happen on purpose?” He had suddenly turned to a more cold look, worried that his old fears would come true.

“No!” Joxter snapped to look at him, seemingly horrified that Snufkin would suggest that.

“Well, then what happened?”

“I was taking you out for a while, for a camping trip.” He began to explain, “You never liked Mymble's house, it was always too loud for you, so I tried to get you out and about as often as I could.”

He raised an eyebrow, curious as to where he was going with this.

“We were in a small boat on a river, I always liked to find new places to camp.” He smiled fondly at the idea of finding somewhere new to be, the smile faded as he remembered the rest of the story, “The current picked up… I tried to get us out of there, but I couldn't. The boat overturned on a rock, I went under water… And by the time I came up again, I couldn't find anything. Not even the boat.”

Snufkin didn't look so cold anymore, just sad now. He always wanted to know why he didn't grow up in a nice safe home, and of course, he always knew the story wouldn't be a good one, yet still, he wished it had been nicer to hear.

He fiddled with his own hands and stared at the dirt, “Did you look for me?”

“Yes, ” the Joxter closed his eyes, “that's why I didn't go back to the Mymble. I didn't want to ever return until I found you. Then one day the Muddler and Hodgkins found me and said they were going to see Moominpapa and his family, and well, you were there when we showed up.”

Snufkin smiled, “I liked hearing all of Moominpapa's stories about you, but it was much nicer to put a face to your name, papa.”

“Aw, how sweet.” The Joxter said in a joking tone. Then he took a deep breath and laid down, “You know, I haven't actually told anyone about my past, up until you.”

“Why not?” Snufkin asked curiously, though he then realized that he shouldn't pry so much,  he quickly came to the regretful conclusion that he had already pried too much.

Joxter shrugged and found it hard to answer, he searched for a bit before coming to a conclusion, “I guess, I'm afraid…”

“Afraid of what?”

“If everyone knows exactly how I was raised, and that I'm supposed to be fancy and proper, they might get good expectations of me.” His face was serious, “I can't have people expecting me to be decent! Then I can't sleep all day!” his serious look broke away into a huge smile, and he began to laugh.

Snufkin rolled his eyes and laughed a bit too, “Okay, okay, what's the real reason?”

“That is the real reason!” Joxter sat up and looked at him, still with a huge smile on his face, “If people don't expect much from me then I can't ever disappoint them, and they won't ever make me leave!”

Snufkin paused, quickly dissecting that sentence in his head, then looking at the Joxter in surprise. Joxter just shrugged.

“Come on, I'm gonna grab my degree from Mymble's house, so I can rub it in Moominpapa's face!” he quickly left the tent and began marching in the direction on Mymble's house, and Snufkin followed him quickly.

“Papa wait, ” Snufkin grabbed his wrist, and Joxter turned to look at him, “You know none of us will ever send you away right?”

“Yeah of course-”

“We won't.” Snufkin said in a very sad tone, his wanted Joxter to know it and not forget it, “Family doesn't kick family out. A real family will help you and support you. That's what Moominmama's taught me.” He quickly wrapped Joxter in a big hug and squeezed him as tight as he could.

Joxter smiled peacefully and gently hugged Snufkin back, “I know that…”

joxter fic: a long cold winter part 2

He blinked awake in a strange bed, a pair of large blue eyes peering at him over the blankets. They ducked down when they realized he was awake.

“Hello?” he tried to remember where he was, still groggy. The bed was nice, scented with rosemary and good soap. 

“Hello!” A rag doll peeked back up over the edge of the bed, button eyes shining.  a rag doll with little pointed ears and a long nose. Moomins. He smiled at the doll and patted it on the head. 

“Did you come to check on me?” the doll nodded. 

He pushed himself up, covering his mouth as he coughed. His head felt thick and ached, along with his chest. He’d come down with snufkin’s cold, how wonderful. 

Snufkin was wailing again. Poor little guy, he’d never been away from joxter’s side. Little moomin looked concerned, hugging his dolly to his chest. 

“He’s okay, he just misses me.” he smiled at him, patted his head and padded out to find him. His feet burned and he tried not to look at them, they felt blistered and raw. 

Moominmamma had him in the warm kitchen. Snufkin hiccupped, sobs dying down when he noticed his pappa. He reached out for him, and joxter took him into his arms, cuddling him close to his chest. 

“His fever is down.” she said, smiling at the two. “Sit, I’ll get you something to eat.”

“Thank you moominmamma” snufkin sniffled and coughed before settling against his father’s chest to sleep. Moomin clambered up next to them, watching snufkin’s face curiously. 

“His name is snufkin.” joxter smiled, watching moomin gently pat his son’s hair. “He’s been sick.”

“Does he have a dolly? Would he like one?”

“I think he’d like one.”

“I’ma gonna make him a dolly.” moomin declared. 

“Thank you moomin.” the little one blushed and ran off. 

Moominmamma brought over a bowl of soup, thick with potatoes and bacon, along with bread and butter. It’d been… how long had it been since he had a good hot meal like this? He’d been giving snufkin most of his own portion, the little boy needed more food. 

Oh they were safe, there would be plenty of food for both of them, there was warmth and a dry bed- the stress of surviving the cold winter, the long cold spring fell off of him-

“Joxter?”

He covered his face with his free hand, tears streaming down his face. She didn’t ask any more, pulling him against her chest so he could cry, stroking his hair, his back. 

“I’m sorry.” he mumbled into her shoulder. The soup was probably cold now. She pulled away, just enough so she could cup his face in her paws and kiss his forehead.

“It’s been hard, hasn’t it?”

“I… yeah… it’s been flooding in the lowlands… it’s…” it’d been hard to feel anything when everything was focused on simply surviving…he’d had to hold it together for snufkin’s sake, to keep him safe...

“Let me warm up your soup and make you some tea.”

“Thank you.” he scrubbed at his face, thankful snufkin had slept through it. 

He made himself eat the soup, not to pick at it slowly. He’d gotten into this strange habit of eating very slowly, taking a long time to chew between bites to make his food last. He didn’t need to do that here, he reminded himself. Still, he couldn’t eat all of it, it was too much all at once.

Moominmamma settled by him, knitting in paw. Little stockings appeared as she flicked the yarn around the needles, almost like magic. 

His belly was full, snufkin was still snoozing on his lap in that boneless way children do. He should go back to bed with him, catch up on sleep. 

But he was reluctant to leave the quiet company moominmamma provided. The clicking of the needles, the crackling of wood in the stove…moomin padded in with some scrap fabric, clambering onto a bench so he could reach the table top. Pappa strolled in behind, mamma’s sewing kit in paw. 

“Joxter! Having some of mamma’s good soup?”

“Yeah.” he smiled at him, more as pappa settled next to him to help moomin make the rag doll. 

Snufkin coughed himself awake, drowsily taking in the new people around him. Moominmamma smiled, setting aside the nearly-finished stocking and made him up a little milk sop. 

Still sleepy, snufkin accepted it and ate quietly for a few minutes before looking up at joxter.

“Da, there’s plenty if you want some.”

“No, you go ahead, I already ate.” his child made a face and he realized that was one of the excuses he used when there wasn’t enough for both of them. “Moominmamma fed me, I promise. Big bowl of soup.”

“You should have a piece of bread too, okay?” he watched him until moominmamma handed joxter a thick slice spread with jam. Snufkin nodded, turning back to his milk-soaked bread once he was sure his da was going to eat. 

He… hadn’t been as good as he thought at… the tears threatened to well up again and he rubbed at his eyes as he nibbled on the bread. Pappa put a comforting paw on his back. 

The warm paw, slowly rubbing in circles made his eyes heavy, made him lean into it. 

The urge to kiss him was overwhelming, a need for comfort, to distract himself from falling apart. He’d had an awful crush on him before and he needed someone to hold him-  he dug his fingers into his fur, trembling-

“Are you cold?” pappa mistook it for shivering, feeling his hands. “Let's get  you some coffee to warm up.”

“Yes… yes good idea.” he hugged snufkin, still sitting in his lap and shut his eyes tightly, trying to get his emotions in check. He didn’t need to fall apart again, not in front of the children. 

But it’d feel so good to kiss someone- the sudden hunger for affection was worse than being plain hungry.

Snufkin finished up his meal, carefully licking up any drops of milk off his spoon as he watched moomin. He’d been too sick and miserable to notice the other little boy before. But now with his dad close by, he let his curiosity peak.

“His name is moomin.” joxter told him softly. “Do you want to see what he’s doing?”

Snufkin nodded and slipped off his dad’s lap, crawling under the table to pop up by moomin. 

Pappa appeared by joxter’s shoulder with the coffee, pressing it into his paws. 

“Lots of sugar, like you like it.”

“Thank you.” and he even managed to smile at him. The hot drink helped settle his nerves, even as pappa settled next to him to pack a pipe and help stitch the rag doll. 

He was married, he’d never felt the same way. Rejection would be even worse than the need for affection. 

He closed his eyes, resting his aching head on pappa’s shoulder. He was okay. This was fine, this was enough. He smothered a coughing fit, feeling an ache in his chest.

“Are you feeling alright, joxter?” pappa asked softly. 

“I don’t feel well.” he admitted. “Maybe I should go back to bed.”

“You can, we’ll keep an eye on snufkin.”

His son looked up in alarm.

“It’ll be okay, I’ll just be upstairs if you need me. The moomins are very nice.” snufkin looked at the adults warily. “It’s okay. We’re safe.” he didn’t look completely convinced, but he nodded. 

He dragged himself upstairs to the guest room, hugging himself tightly once he crawled into bed. 

And let himself fall apart, dissolving into tears once again. Coughing and sobbing into the pillow, blankets pulled over his head. They were safe, they were safe. His heart ached, he could never have a family like this- he wanted to be held, made loved to and kissed, someone to give him comfort. He was okay, they were safe. He should be fine with just him and snufkin, but what if he could give snufkin a family? What if something happened to him? Oh he was so lonely-

“Joxter?” there was a tentative paw on his back, muffled by the pile of blankets on top of him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m…” he trailed off, not sure how to answer. Joxter poked his head out from the covers, eyes red and swollen. “Sorry…” he mumbled.

“Mamma wanted me to give you some medicine before you went to sleep.” pappa cupped his face, wiping away moisture with his thumb. “What’s wrong? Did we say something?”

“No, it’s… me. Everything. I don’t know.” he slumped into himself. “I’m… empty…”

“What do you need?”

“I don’t kn-” he was interrupted by a fit of coughing. “I think I caught snufkin’s cold.”

“Here.” he helped him drink the medicine, wrapping an arm around him. “You’re so thin, no wonder you’re ill.”

“Food was hard to get.” it was hard admitting it out loud. Hard to admit he failed at taking care of his son all on his own. “Snufkin needed it more than me.” 

“You’re a good father. He’s a fine boy. Now, get some sleep, you need your rest.” he pulled the blankets up over joxter’s shoulders, then smoothing out his hair. 

He wanted to ask him to stay, to hold his paw or kiss him. Crawl in bed with him and help ease the cold that was still in his bones. But the words caught in his throat, and pappa left him alone. 

He curled up on himself, staring at the walls until exhaustion finally caught up with him. 

The dim small room was filled with a sound of muffled sobs. “Sssh, sssh,” A calming voice tried to be overheard as a dark furred hand reached out to caress down a tear soaked cheek.  The touch was gentle with the claws just barely tracing over enough to send a shiver down the receivers spine. Not from fear; The Muddler didn’t have any reason to fear The Joxter. Well, there was plenty of reason to fear the Mumrik with piercing blue eyes that would stare right through you. A Mumrik who didn’t care for rules or social conventions. The Muddler himself didn’t have much to fear since the other was always so gentle with him. So loving, even after leaving a few bruises here and there on his skin and red marks from a rough tongue that seemed to love to leave it’s mark. Even when these acts happened enough to bring tears to The Muddler’s eyes, The Joxter always found a way to soothe him afterwards. It would be enough to forget the pain until the bruises and scraps (and sometimes scratches) faded away from body and memory.  And then it would start all over again. The Joxter smiled as he cupped the soft face before him. The way The Muddler would worry his quivering lip with his teeth or fidget slightly under his gaze really got to him. He could watch the other be distressed for hours; he just made himself so enjoyable to watch. But The Joxter was hungry now and he knew he would have time later to indulge in such fantasies. “You’re doing so well, puppy.” The Joxter purred,brushing a thumb under the others mouth. His claw came close to grazing over the sensitive skin. The Muddler didn’t speak, but the ends of his mouth did perk up a little and his moist eyes brightened. The mumrik knew the other took to compliments and approval like a fly to honey. He would do just about anything after enough is given but there was also the issue where is he didn’t receive any The Muddler would start to panic. That could get annoying sometimes. Leaning in, the mumrik pressed their lips together, teasing the worried mouth open with a few licks of his tongue. For a moment only the soft sounds of lips smacking filled the room as the two kissed. The Muddler winced when sharp teeth threatened to bite into his lip, but it never went further then a soft graze. Finally the kiss broke and the two rested foreheads together for a moment. “Very good, puppy. Are you ready for more?”  The Muddler swallowed, “Ah, y-yes, I think so. You promise to go slow this time, right?” “On my word.” The Joxter trailed his hands down the others body before coming to a stop at his hips. With a little push in the right places, he teased the trembling legs open so he could situation himself between them. “We’ll go nice and slow.” he brought his hand up to cup the others penic which rewarded him with sweet gasp. It felt so needy and desperate after having been abandoned for such a long pause. The Joxter’s previous administrations had been enough to work it up to full mast, pre bubbling from the tip like the tears dribbling from The Muddler’s eyes. He was aching for attention, but still so cautious at actually receiving it. His poor naive little puppy; eventually he would learn to accept  this full heartedly.  After collecting enough precum, The Joxter moved his hand down to The Muddler’s anus, and without much warning, he stuck a finger in. The muscles tightened around him and there was a whine from above. “Y-you said s-slowly!” The Joxter sighed, fighting the urge to roll his eyes in front of the other. No need for another fit. “I am going slowly, puppy, it’s just one finger. See?” He wiggled it around which got him a little moan in return. After a moment The Muddler relaxed enough to let his finger in more. To show he meant what he said, The Joxter took a good minute to swirl the single didget around before adding in a second, slowly. He moved them around, which illicit more cute moans and a slightly arched up back. After two he added another and counted a few 1 Sycamore, 2 Sycamore, 3 Sycamores before entering a fourth. Maybe it was quicker, but The Muddler didn’t seem to notice as he squirmed under the attention. Finally, The Joxter pulled his hand out to reach and grab his own dick. “Ready?” Tears were already building up in The Muddler’s eyes. He was always so quick to cry. But despite blurry eyes the quivering figure managed to lock eyes with the other and nod. It took every fiber of The Joxter’s being not to drive himself forward immedietly.  No, he kept to his word, but even at a slow pace the moment he pushed in The Muddler still tensed up. The Joxter bit back anything he could have said to admonish the other and instead leaned forward to press kisses to his shoulder and neck. It was enough to help him relax and eventually the Mumrik was able to slowly make more progress. He pressed forward, leaving kisses whenever his puppy tensed up and soon he was fully inside. “Good boy.” The Joxter dragged his tongue along Muddler’s cheek, leaving red irritated skin behind, but his puppy barely seemed to take notice being far more overwhelmed with the feeling of being full. “J-joxter...” He breathed out. Bright blue pupils widen as the Mumrik watched to other for a moment. The Muddler breathed in and out, like he had just managed to dodge a Booble’s foot. “Joxter...slowly still, please? I still feel s-sore from last time.” The Joxter ducked his head down for a moment so the other couldn’t see the look that crossed his face. A look he had whenever anyone tried to tell him what to do. But this was his puppy; he could follow along with this at least. He put his mouth to the others neck, “Of course.” His acceptance came with just the lightest scrapping of his teeth against the others jugular. He could feel the heart racing which was enough to get his own blood pumping. With control, however, The Joxter started to move out and in at a steady pace. It was enough to take The Muddler’s breath away occasionally, especially when he moved in just right, but he didn’t speak a word of protest. It was mostly due to how Joxter was being so good with him. He knew from past experience the Mumrik could get a little feisty in their acts of coital so the fact he was holding back made The Muddler’s heart swell. Perhaps when he was feeling better again he could...let The Joxter go a bit rougher than usual. He would love that ever so much and The Muddler did deeply wish to pleasure his friend. Eventually the slow pace wasn’t enough for either of them and Mumrik started to pump his hips faster. That was fine for The Muddler as his cries came more from a place of pleasure than pain as his body ached to be finished. Hands found and gripped his penis to help him along getting him to wrap his arms around the mumrik in a tight embrace, but he was pushed back against the blanket as The Joxter started to speed up. The hand not gripped around The Muddler’s penis was holding forcibly to his thigh, starting to threaten more bruises once again. When The Joxter slammed in his puppy cried out and they both reached their climax. At this point they had managed to stay in good sync with one another.  The road the waves of pleasure before finally The Joxter collapsed beside him, pulling out of The Muddler in a rough matter that made him whimper. “Sorry...” a tired mumble was made and an arm reached out to pull the other into an embrace. Despite the aches and pains all over, The Muddler settled against The Joxter fully, a small smile crossing his lips.  Because what he liked just as much as the actual sex was the after care that followed suit. 

Perchance to Dream part 4

It was a late summer evening one year, the air warm and heavy with the smell of flowers and fruit, when Joxter came to Moominvalley.

Moomin and his friends were lounging on the Moominhouse veranda, soaking up the lazy atmosphere. Snufkin sat on the railing, playing a tranquil melody on his harmonica, with the others sprawled about beneath, chatting aimlessly. Moominpappa was sat at the table, supposedly trying to write but Moomin was sure he was dozing.

A cheerful “Hullo!” brought their attention to the figure in a red hat making his way up the path to the house.

Moominpappa snapped awake and jumped up when he saw the figure.

“Joxter!” He called out.

“Moomin!” the figure responded jovially and picked up a little speed.

“It’s Moominpappa now.” Moominpappa corrected him just as he reached the veranda.

“Moominpappa?” Joxter had stopped in his tracks to gasp in mock surprise, a hand clasped dramatically over his chest. “Nobody tells me anything!”

The both of them had a good laugh at that and then he jumped up onto the veranda and they greeted each other properly as old friends do. With an enthusiastic hug, a hold at arm’s length to see how the other has changed, and a “How have you been?”

Though Moomin noticed the strange man looked a little sad behind his roguish smile.

The two seemed to forget anyone else was there as they caught up on the years since they’d last seen each other. Joxter sharing his adventures, much like Snufkin did, and Moominpappa speaking of settling down with his family and writing his memoirs.

And then Moominmamma cleared her throat as she placed a fresh pitcher of lemonade on the table and Joxter stiffened up, flinching slightly when Moominpappa turned away to send a sheepish glance toward her.

But then, as soon as Moomin had noticed the change in the man’s demeanor it was gone, and he was back to being all smile and lazy movement. And Moomin put the whole thing out of his mind. It wasn’t his business, after all, and despite his natural curiosity it felt whatever it was should stay none of his business.

“Ah,” Moominpappa gestured between Joxter and Moominmamma, “Joxter you’ve met my wife, Moominmamma.”

“I have.” Joxter responded awkwardly.

Moominpappa turned to shift his vague gestures to Moomin’s direction. “And this is our son, Moomin, and his friends. Children, this,” he patted Joxter on the shoulder, “is Joxter. He’s an old adventuring buddy from my youth, and Snufkin’s father.”

“What?”

Everyone spun to Snufkin at his soft but emotional exclamation. He was staring at Moominpappa and Joxter with wide eyes and looked about ready to fall off the veranda railing.

“I have a father?”

“Of course, everyone does.”

Snufkin slowly lowered his feet to the wooden floor of the veranda and pushed off from the railing. Moomin quickly stood up and pressed his shoulder against Snufkin’s when he saw the way he was trembling.

“You knew who my father was this whole time?”

Moominpappa nodded. “More or less, yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Snufkin’s voice broke. Moomin felt the urge to fold him into his arms and hide him away from the world, but he knew that wouldn’t help.

“Well, I assumed you knew.”

“How did you know, Moominpappa?” Snorkmaiden cut in, brow raised and arms crossed.

“Snufkin looks much like Joxter did when we were younger… with a bit of his mother in there as well.”

“You know my mother as well?”

“Why yes, the Mymble,” he looked to Joxter, “right?”

Joxter nodded.

Moominpappa continued. “They were together for a time when we were younger. She’s the only person I remember Joxter ever showing any interest in, really. So there weren’t many women your mother could’ve been.”

Moomin forced himself to ignore the way Joxter stiffened again and looked down and away. Instead he focused on Snufkin’s increased shaking and irregular breaths. Seeing his friend so distressed made something in his chest hurt.

He turned slightly toward Snufkin and quietly spoke.

“Do you need some time alone to process?”

Snufkin nodded.

“Ok.” Moomin responded. “Go. I’ll try and distract them.” He walked closer to the door and continued in a louder voice. “How about we continue this inside? It’s much too hot out for such talk. And besides which, it’s almost dinner time.”

Everyone quickly agreed. Moomin held the door open while they all shuffled in and he watched as Snufkin escaped over the bridge and into the forest.

~~

Snufkin returned a little over a day later, without much fanfare. Of course, most the inhabitants of Moominvalley were quite accustomed to Snufkin disappearing for a few days for one reason or another. And Joxter seemed content to spend his first day at the house endlessly chiding Moominpappa, in a good-natured manner, for his error.

It was as if remembering Moominpappa had flaws had snapped Joxter out of the strange mood from his arrival.

But then, like usual, Snufkin’s camp went from empty one day to quietly occupied the next.

Moomin was glad that Snufkin had returned so soon and was quite eager to talk to him about the whole thing, but then he noticed a figure in a red hat sitting by the river next to Snufkin’s camp. And he knew he should give them some space and some time to talk and get to know each other and other things along those lines.

So Moomin spent the day helping around the house and in his Mamma’s garden, keeping himself busy so he wouldn’t fret too much. He wanted so badly to make sure his friend was ok, see how he was handling everything. But he could wait. He’d let Snufkin come to him when he was ready.

And again, the next day, he helped Moominmamma with the chores after breakfast and was out weeding the garden before noon. This time he worked in one further from Moominhouse - the one they’d all made for her birthday the year before - instead of the small flower beds just in front of it.

He wasn’t out there for long when Snufkin quietly joined him.

The two worked in silence for an hour or so before Snufkin finally began to speak. Moomin waited patiently during that time; he knew Snufkin well enough to tell when he needed Moomin to talk first and when he needed to think for a bit.

When he finally did speak, Snufkin started the conversation in his usual, direct way. He stated plainly that he was still somewhat upset at Moominpappa for not saying anything. That him and Joxter had talked about it - about how if Moominpappa had said something sooner they could’ve known each other longer - and that they’d both agreed that they had a right to be upset. But they wouldn’t be angry forever and not enough to affect any friendships with the family.

It was clear to Moomin, from the last thing, that Snufkin had feared that Moomin would assume the worst about the future of their friendship. He knew that Snufkin sometimes worried about things like that, about things he said coming across wrong and Moomin thinking he hated him, about not being clear enough or there enough, about driving Moomin away or making Moomin think he’d driven Snufkin away.

“He told me,” Snufkin continued, “he told me that he’d been so excited,” he laughed a little, “and a little scared, when he heard he had a son. He said that he’s been searching all over for me since he found out I existed. He wants to… to get to know me.”

Moomin smiled, indescribably happy for his friend.

“He also told me about the Mymble. My mother. About how they met during his adventures with Moominpappa.  How she had dozens of kids all running around everywhere.”

Here he stopped and sat back to look at Moomin with wide eyes. “I suppose those would be my siblings.” He shook his head with a single laugh. “I never thought that I might have siblings.”

Moomin chuckled until Snufkin flicked some loose dirt at him and then he gestured for Snufkin to continue.

“What was she like? Did he say? Were they madly in love?”

And suddenly the atmosphere changed from lighthearted to something more weighty. Moomin had a brief moment to worry whether he’d said something wrong before the thought was interrupted by a soft reply.

“No, they weren’t.” A breath. “He tried to avoid mentioning it. But when I asked, he admitted they’d only been brief distractions to each other. Mutually beneficial and nothing more. Just a… a…”

He trailed off and Moomin’s heart ached. For the second time since Joxter’s appearance, he wished he could gather Snufkin in a soft hug, safe from anything that might hurt him. Instead he shifted over to press his shoulder against Snufkin’s and gently cover one of his paws with his own.

“I…” Snufkin let out a heavy sigh. “I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it, honestly, or even how I should feel.”

“Well,” Moomin mused out loud, “I think it’s perfectly acceptable to be unsure in such a circumstance. And besides, even if they don’t love each other, you know your father cares about you and wants to be in your life. That’s good right?”

“Yes.” Snufkin nodded, his lips curving up into a small smile. “That is true.”

They both returned to the weeding as Snufkin detailed how him and Joxter had talked about family. What it meant to them and what they wanted it to mean going forward.

Joxter wasn’t much different from Snufkin in that he prefered to travel and didn’t much care for attachments, so for them family wasn’t going to be like the Moomins; living together in one house all year round. They would still travel and still live by themselves, but Joxter would stay in Moominvalley as long as he could stand to and would visit as often as he could, and if they crossed paths in their travels they’d take some time to catch each other up on their lives.

Moomin agreed that that plan sounded very sensible.

“And after that,” Snufkin continued with some energy, “he asked about my life so far, said he wanted to know all the important things.”

Moomin grinned over at Snufkin. His excitement was quite contagious.

“So? What all did you tell him about?!”

Snufkin gave a little giggle and Moomin found himself blushing at how adorable it was.

“Well, I told him about the orphanage I spent a part of my earlier years in, before I started traveling.” He whirled to face Moomin with a paw raised in mock outrage. “He had the gall to compare me to Moominpappa for that!”

Moomin burst into laughter at that. Snufkin feigned offense for a moment more before joining in.

Eventually, he collected himself and continued.

“Then I told him about traveling the world. Some of the more interesting things and places I’ve seen and people I’ve met.” He waved a dismissive paw through the air next to him. “And of course I told him all about meeting you and coming to Moominvalley and all the adventures we’ve had together.”

Moomin smiled down at the flowerbed. “So we’re one of the important things?” He asked, letting his smile bleed into his voice.

“Of course.” Snufkin pulled the brim of his hat down, blocking his face from Moomin’s view. “One of the most important things.”

Moomin’s breath caught in his throat and his face burned and it felt like his heart was trying to beat it’s way out of his chest. His smile widened uncontrollably and he bent further over the flowers to hide it.

~~

The Moomin family invited Joxter over for his last meal at Moominhouse before leaving the valley. It was planned to be a fairly intimate celebration; just Joxter, Snufkin, the Moomin family, Little My, and the rest of Moomin’s friends - Sniff and Snorkmaiden.

Snufkin was late. Moomin knew that this was because he didn’t feel ready to say goodbye to his father just yet, but also that he didn’t want to admit it. So everyone else was under the assumption that he’d gotten distracted while out fishing.

Everyone else was already there, however. And they figured that Snufkin would arrive whenever he arrived and that he wouldn’t want them to put the whole thing on hold just for him.

They all socialized while they waited and Moominmamma cooked up a storm in the kitchen with Moomin and Snorkmaiden helping set the table. They talked about this and that - how Moominpappa’s writing was going, where Joxter might go on his travels, Sniff’s latest money-making scheme.

Eventually the topic turned to Moomin and Snorkmaiden’s relationship.

“They’ve been together for a few years now,” Moominmamma explained from the doorway, “since just after the comet, I believe.” She lifted a paw up to her cheek. “Isn’t it just lovely?”

“Yes, I suppose it is.” Joxter responded. “Though I assumed it was expected for soulmates to stay together for very long.”

Everyone went quiet.

“Oh.” Moominmamma breathed.

“We…” Moomin started, before having to try again. “We aren’t soulmates. I… I don’t have a soulmate.”

“But I thought all Moomintrolls have soulmates.” Joxter frowned. “Or have you been lying to me all these years Moominpappa?”

There was pain in Joxter’s voice. Moomin heard it. Felt it. It deepened the inner wound caused by the conversation. Talking about his soulmate had grown easier with Snufkin, but the pain had never truly gone away.

It added to and mixed with the guilt over using Snorkmaiden as a distraction, still, after so many years.

It ate at him. Always there at the edges of his thoughts.

It wasn’t fair to her. It wasn’t like Joxter and the Mymble who both knew and understood that their relationship was just a distraction.

He found himself wishing, as he sometimes did, that Snufkin was his soulmate. Everything was simple and easy with Snufkin.

But that wasn’t fair to Snorkmaiden either. If anyone, It should be her he was wishing to be his soulmate. And it wasn’t fair to Snufkin, who wasn’t much different from Moomin’s soulmate after all, and who a soulbond would likely hurt in the ways it ties one to another.

And it very much wasn’t fair to Moomin’s soulmate. He hadn’t chosen to be bound to him, and Moomin had been the one to decide to take the herbs to end their dreams.

None of this was fair to any of them.

Moomin was just being selfish.

But it hurt so much.

It swirled and built and tore him down again and again in a never ending spiral.

He couldn’t handle it.

He took one last wild glance around the room before bolting up the stairs.

Possession. Chapter 8:

Right guys, this chapter is a little shorter compared to the others and I’m sorry if you don’t like that. I still hope you all enjoy it just the same though.

I’m just going to warn you guys right now: there is a little bit of gore, but I’ll try to keep it as minimal as possible. Another warning is that there is going to be some emotional scenes so please have some tissues ready.

Also, you know the drill. If you haven’t read the previous, for the sake my sanity and to avoid potential SPOILER ALERTS, go read them now by using the links at the end of the chapter.

Enjoy.

The vagabond’s spirit was battered and bruised, a thin line of blood trailed from the corner of his mouth, showing the torture that he had to endure whilst he was trapped. His face was twisted in pain and fear, showing how much he had been hurt emotionally and mentally as well as physically. Unfortunately, he didn’t put up a fight as he was unconscious. It broke Moomin’s heart to see Snufkin like this. He had never thought he would see Snufkin look anything like this. It was haunting and it wasn’t something that he would ever forget. Joxter started to charge into the circle to try to stop the spirit from taking Snufkin away, but Moominpappa held him back, knowing that his childhood friend would put himself in more danger than he would help the young traveller. Joxter only responded by struggling viscously. He didn’t want to lose Snufkin again, he couldn’t.

“Snufkin! Wake up! Please!” Moomin cries out, tears threatening to fall.

“You had better let go of him right now! Or else!” Little My yelled, baring her teeth like a ravage animal.

“Or else what?! I told you that I’d get my revenge. Even if I can’t kill you, at least I can still make you all suffer by taking a member of your ���family’. Say goodbye!” The spirit smirked, eyes wide, almost looking like a pair of near perfect circles in the centre of his head. Joxter’s struggle against Moominpappa increased, getting to the point where Moominmamma had to help hold him back. Little My was going to leap into the circle herself, but Madame Portia, who had been sitting perfectly still, eyes still white, reached out and stopped her. Little My tried to bite her out of retaliation, but the medium made no reaction.

“SNUFKIN!” Moomin screamed, tears falling down his face. His best friend made no move, not even attempting to open his eyes. Moomin nearly collapsed to the ground, fearing the worst. Little My continued to fight back against the medium’s death grip. She suddenly stopped when she felt an ominous chill stroking her shoulder, like a hand offering her some form of comfort. She looked back into the circle. And what happened next, would have her speechless for the rest of the ritual.

“I win! I always-” the spirit started to mock, when the unexpected happened. A flash of shape and colour suddenly grabbed the spirit and yanked him away from the traveller. Snufkin’s spirit fell sideways, only for the shape-no, another spirit-to grab him before he could hit the ground. The spirit was of a tall man, he wore a long brown coat that was clearly seen to be unbuttoned at the front, black trousers and one black boot on his left foot. He had short, dark orange hair. His clothes were ragged and torn, just like the boy spirit’s. The sleeve on his right side was torn to shreds and any skin that was showing at this point was covered in gashes and some of them revealed a little bit of bone. No one could see his face, as he had his back to everyone else. Gently, with only the use of his left arm (his right arm was all twisted and seemed to be dislocated), he lowered Snufkin’s spirit into his body.

“NO! I WILL NOT LET THIS HAPPEN! I WILL-” the evil spirit yelled, enraged that Snufkin was returned to where he rightfully belonged. The adult spirit suddenly grabbed the boy spirit by the throat with his left hand. He lifted the stunned spirit high in the air. The evil spirit looked visibly frightened, red eyes wide in terror and his body was practically shaking like a leaf. He stared right into the adult spirit’s eyes, silently begging to be let go, as he kicked his legs in the air and his hands were clawing at the hand that held him.

“You shall not harm this family anymore! Go back to the dark hole you crawled out of! AND STAY THERE!” The adult yelled before he threw the evil spirit to the ground. Everyone looked in in shock at what was unfolding before them. Joxter relaxed, all the fight that he had against his friends seemed to have vanished. Madame Portia released the small girl, letting Little My stand there in awe as what was happening. Moomin was frozen stiff. Only his tears were moving, hitting the ground like rain. The boy spirit slowly started to move, slowly sitting up. That was when it happened. Long, thick shadows, acting like the tentacles of an octopus, reached up from the ground. The boy screamed in anguish as he was grabbed by each shadow. He laid on his back, kicking and wailing like a toddler, in fact worse than a toddler. It didn’t stop the shadows from constricting around him. The spirit kept screaming incoherent protests. As the shadows started to pull him under the earth, his struggling increased. He stretched out a hand, hoping to grab the adult spirit before him. Everyone watched as he was dragged completely under, his screams echoing before they faded completely away and his hand being the final thing to be dragged away. Everyone was silent, filled with shock and awe, and even a little bit of fright.

The adult spirit stood still for a few seconds, though it felt like hours. He suddenly started to slowly turn around. He allowed the family to see the left side of his face momentarily. He had freckles dotting his pale face, like the spots of a Dalmatian. He had sharp green eyes that somewhat resembled Little My’s. He sighed deeply before turning around fully. Joxter couldn’t help but stare at the man in pity as he saw the full view of his face. The family around him became breathless. The whole right hand side of his face was a mangled mess. His right eyelid was closed, but the living had a feeling that it was to hide either a damaged eye or an empty eye socket. The skin had so many gashes that it more looked like raw, red meat than a face. The right hand side at the front of his scalp was ripped clean of his hair and a little bit of skin. It was truly like good and evil had clashed with his face.

The spirit looked right down at Little My, making her shift a little uncomfortable by the sight of his deformed face. He gave her a smile despite that, trying to make it seem like he didn’t look as bad as he actually was.

“I’m so proud of you, Little My. And I know that you’re brother is proud of you too.” He smiled, his left eye slowly letting out a tear. He turned to the family. “Thank you.” Before anyone could respond, the spirit slowly started to turn to silver coloured sand. Each particle drifted up to the heavens, swirling like a whirlpool. He looked at Little My one last time, who started to shed tears, knowing full well who it was standing before. “Give your mother my love, will you sweetie?”

“Pappa...” the small girl whispered, trying to keep herself together. Joxter knelt down beside her and rubbed her back a little, giving her comfort. The spirit smiled a little wider, more tears coming out of his eye, before he completely turned to silver sand. The sand continued to drift into the sky, fading away into the cold, black night. The light from the circle faded. The milky white liquid that was used to outline the shape had drained into the earth, leaving black scorched marks on the ground. Madame Portia blinked and when she opened her eyes, they had turned back to their normal pebble grey colour. A small trail of blood leaked out of her noise, which she promptly wiped away.

“Snufkin?” Moomin asked, looking down at the still form on the ground. Everyone looked at Snufkin. He hadn’t moved at all. He wasn’t awake. He didn’t look like if he was even breathing. Joxter shook his head lightly, kneeling beside the boy. He turned him onto his back, taking in a sharp inhale. Now that Snufkin had control of his body, it reflected the injuries that his spirit had. His pale skin littered black and blue and a thin streak of blood coming from his mouth. His face was still and didn’t seem to hold any emotion.

“Snufkin? Come on. Please.” Joxter said, shaking the boy’s still form. Snufkin’s head limply bobbed up and down but he didn’t respond. “No, no, no. Please.”

“Snufkin?” Little My whimpered as she approached her little brother. She grasped his shoulder and lightly shook it, but again, no response. Moomin knelt down next to his best friend. He couldn’t hold back the tears as he held his pale cold hand. He felt his parents hug him by the shoulders and his mother nuzzle him for comfort, her salty tears being smothered onto his fur. Madame Portia looked away, not wanting to see her failure for a second time. No one had a dry eye around the vagabond. Joxter’s tears hit his son’s face as he kissed his son on the forehead. Joxter and Little My held Snufkin tightly, not caring if he was going to respond or not at this point. Moomin’s parents held their son closer, feeling just as bad as Joxter did. Before the man came back into Snufkin’s life, they treated him like a second son. It was heartbreaking to think that they had lost him to something just as evil as the spirit of a vengeful child. Moomin barely his parents’s attempt to console him as he hugged the still hand in his paws close to him, squeezing it a little.

Then he felt the hand squeeze back....

Here are the links to the other chapters:

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 9: coming soon...

washed up

Fandom: Moomins Characters: Snufkin, Joxter A/N: written in my A Goofy AU AU and to go along with @mogadeer‘s art of this scene. i’d say nobody asked for this, but i’d be lying.  Summary: Making up for lost time isn’t quite as easy as Joxter had thought it would be. 

This was the Fillyjonk’s fault, and no one could or would convince Snufkin otherwise.

You see, no one had really expected Joxter to come back a second time, much less without Hodgkins coercing him along. He’d come back to visit with Moominpappa again, eager to catch up without the fuss and muss of such a large gathering buzzing around him. This time, it was only to be himself and the troll.

Except, that wasn’t quite how things panned out. Moominhouse was a lot busier than expected, even without all the commotion that had come with Hodgkins, the Muddler, the Fuzzy, the Mymble and her thirty-some-odd children. Moomintroll was pleasant enough, but Joxter could have done without his many, many questions. Little My, on the other hand, did nothing to hide her distrust and dislike of the Mumrik.

“What kind of father just up and leaves his kid?” she had asked without shame or hesitance. Joxter hadn’t really had an answer for that, much to his own surprise. However, before he could think of something to say one way or another, Moomin was already grabbing Little My up and taking her away.

“Little My, you can’t just go asking things like that!” Joxter could hear the young moomin scolding her.

Moominpappa had apologized on her behalf, but Joxter hadn’t really expected anything less. Most Mymbles seemed to be lacking filters, in one way or another.

And then the Fillyjonk had come by. The initial visit had no malicious intent, as she had only wanted to visit with the family. However, upon being introduced to Joxter, her mood had taken a sharp turn, and for the worst at that. She hadn’t been around the last time Joxter had come to visit, and there were no holds barred when it came to what she had to say.

“Perhaps if poor Snufkin had his father around, he wouldn’t have grown into such a worrisome little vagabond,” she said, nose in the air, paws fussing with the handle of her umbrella. “Pulling up signs, stealing fruit, getting into with law enforcement!”

Joxter had been mildly proud to hear of his son’s accomplishments, despite the fact that these were things he should not have been proud of. However, Fillyjonk’s umbrella had come up and then down so quickly, he hadn’t had the time to brace himself. The cushioned rod bumped against the top of his head, nearly knocking his hat off in the process.

“Wipe that grin from your face, Mr. Joxter! Such disgraceful behavior is nothing to be proud of! It would probably do you both well to turn yourselves around.” Her nose was in the air again before she trotted off.

Moominpappa, again, tried his best to apologize for someone else’s behavior.

And that was ultimately how found Joxter standing outside of Snufkin’s tent. Not particularly because the Fillyjonk was right, but because it was brought to his attention - however indirectly - that he really didn’t know much about his son.

Though it had taken some time and, perhaps, a little more effort than Joxter would have liked, he did manage to convince Snufkin to at least go fishing with him.

That had all transpired a few days ago, and now the two of them were floating rather inconveniently down a river on a capsized boat. He would have liked to blame Joxter for the all of it, as that would have made things so much easier. But even through his anger, Snufkin could recognize that Mrs. Fillyjonk and her unsolicited opinions were the ones to blame. Had she left well enough alone, Joxter would have spent his time with Moominpappa and been on his way again without giving him so much as a wayward second glance. And perhaps that was wrong, but it wouldn’t have bothered him. He’d gone his whole life without knowing his father, one more moment without him wouldn’t have mattered.

But Joxter had looked sincere when he asked if they could travel a little ways together and go fishing. He had sounded earnest when he said that he wanted to make some sort of an effort to get to know his son. Snufkin hadn’t been able to think of any reason to deny the request, and so he had accepted. At the very least, fishing and a bit of travel sounded good.

Except travelling with Joxter was nothing like what he had expected. Joxter was unkempt and disorganized, and would sooner sleep in or under a tree than in a tent. Not that that was a particularly bad thing, Snufkin realized soon enough. While it wasn’t necessarily unpleasant, the older mumrik had a very strong and distinguished smell to him. It was a very wild and sharp scent, overwhelming in its own way.

It was Joxter’s recklessness that found them in the river. When they had come to a fork in the river, Snufkin had tried to tell Joxter they should have gone down the other way, but Joxter had insisted he knew what he was doing.

It didn’t take long after that for the rapids to come into view. From there, there had been no time for them to navigate around them or through them properly. Before they knew it, the boat had tipped, and most of their gear and supplies has been lost to the river. It was all Snufkin could do to somehow hold onto his hat.

Joxter gave a sputtering, inward laugh, using one hand to hold onto the boat while the other wiped water from his face.

“What’s so funny?” Snufkin demanded, his brow knitted tightly together.

“I just wanted to go fishing with my boy, and now look at this - ” He used one hand to gesture to their current situation. The only saving grace in the moment was that the rapids seemed to be dying down.

“If you had just listened to me - ” Snufkin started, and shook his head. He gritted his teeth together, knowing there would be no point in arguing this with Joxter again. They were both ridiculously stubborn, and even if they didn’t know each other very well, Snufkin knew there’d have been no changing Joxter’s mind. Instead, he decided to focus his frustration and anger on another part of what Joxter had said.

“And I’m not your boy!” he snapped, and the words came out much harsher than he had intended. But he didn’t regret them. “I’ve grown up! I have my own life now!”

“I know that!” Joxter snapped back, and it was possibly the loudest Snufkin had ever heard his voice reach. though it only lasted for a moment.  He looked at Snufkin, took in the anger on his face, and found he had to look away - to the boat, to the river, to his own hands. Anything was better than looking directly at his son at the moment.

“I just… Wanted to be a part of it,” he admitted quietly, so quiet the dull roar of the rapids nearly drowned him out.

Snufkin’s expression slowly softened, and he found he also couldn’t look at Joxter for the time being. His father had looked so disheartened and unsure, and Snufkin realized that his own anger had been misplaced. He never should have expected travelling and fishing with Joxter to be anything like he was used to. Why would it have been? Some small part of him was speaking up, telling him he should have enjoyed the experience for what it was worth. Worse things had happened, and would happen, than this.

With the water calmer below and around them, Snufkin was able to pull himself up onto the boat finally. Joxter followed suit, and sat with his back mostly facing Snufkin while he worked to wring out his hat. Snufkin watched him for a few seconds, and then turned his back to his father, too, sighing. They stayed this way for a few long minutes, only the rush of water breaking the silence between them.

“You know,” Snufkin finally spoke up, though neither turned to face the other just yet. A quiet ‘hmm’ from Joxter at least assured Snufkin that the other was listening. “We should probably get the boat ashore and set up camp.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Joxter said quietly.

“And then we can try all of this again tomorrow,” Snufkin continued, and his back was still facing Joxter when the other finally did turn to look at him. A small smile found his lips, but he found it in himself not to say anything just yet. He had expected Snufkin to want to leave without him once they reached shore, and he quickly recognized this as an opportunity he shouldn’t squander.

They would try this again tomorrow, in better spirits and with a better understanding of one another.

“Can I t...t-talk to you about something, uh... serious? Personal?” Muddler was sitting on the floor with his head hung low, looking at his hands as he picked at hangnails and old wounds. His hair hid his face and stuck to his lips and cheeks, the only indication that he was crying aside from the minute tremble in his breathing. Joxter thought better than to say anything about it. “Go ahead, Mouse. I’m listening.”

Muddler took a deep breath in and froze for a moment. He always did this when he was trying to collect his thoughts, but it lasted longer this time. He couldn’t quite find the words. But he managed it anyway. “My parents...” He stopped there for a moment before going on. “They’re gone, right? You know that?” “I do.” “I don’t...” Another pause, this time with a heavy sigh. “I don’t think they ‘went missing’ like Hodgkins says.” “Oh? Then what?” Joxter was afraid he already knew the answer. He’d thought it a few times himself, but he always stayed silent on the topic. It wasn’t worth the pain he’d cause, but it seemed Muddler had gotten hurt regardless. “I think they didn’t love me.”

“Mudd-” “Don’t. Just, d...don’t try to tell me they did. I know I got in my Papa’s way a lot and Mamma was always away.” Another breath, but he wiped his tears with his sleeve this time. “They left me with Hodgkins a lot. They...” He sobbed into his hands as he lost what composure he had left. His body shuddered as each sob ran through the otherwise silent room.

Joxter’s claws dug into his legs as he tried to keep himself from getting emotional, too. Muddler was too sweet to be hurting so much, too kind to be abandoned in the way he had. But there wasn’t a thing Joxter could do to. “Can I touch you?” “Huh?” Muddler looked up to Joxter, sobs stopping momentarily in favor of heavy, uncontrollable breaths. “Yes?” That’s all Joxter needed to hear for him to go to Muddler’s side and wrap his arms around him, gently rubbing his back and brushing his fingers through his hair. It confused him just enough to get him to stop sobbing. “What are you d...doing?” “Hugging you. Do you want to keep talking?” Muddler nodded and hesitantly wrapped his arms around Joxter’s neck like he was afraid of his reaction, but he just smiled and gently bumped their foreheads together. “Go on, then.” “Um... Okay.” He put his head on Joxter’s shoulder and took another breath, tears having ceased in his arms. “They left me with Hodgkins before they disappeared. He says he went to their house and nothing was there, that they got swept away in a cleaning, but I know that isn’t it. They just... d..didn’t want me. And you guys almost forgot me when you set sail.” “I’m terribly sorry, Mouse. They left while I was napping.” “They did it on purpose. Maybe not Moomin, he didn’t know me, but Hodgkins did. He d..doesn’t want me either. I always get in his way like I did with my Papa and I’m so clumsy. I keep messing up.” “You don’t- No, no. You told me not to say that.” Joxter squeezed him gently as he thought of what to say, but Muddler continued without prompting. “I think I should stay home from now on. I’m no good at adventures.”

“If that’s what you want.” Joxter’s heart dropped in his chest even more than it had before, a heavy weight just above his stomach. He couldn’t stand Muddler feeling so unwanted. He wanted him. He only stayed on the ship for him. He’d have to set Hodgkins straight. “But, Mouse, it would be awfully dull without you. And none of us can cook as well as you.” “But I get buttons and cogs in the food sometimes.” “Adds to the texture. I personally love the taste of blood in my throat.” “Joxter! Did I make you bleed?!” “No, Mouse. It was a joke.” “Your jokes are always so scary.” Muddler sighed, clearly exasperated with him, but at least he wasn’t crying anymore. If he kept poking fun and offering a few squeezes here and there, he was sure he could get him back to feeling like the sweet, nervous little Muddle he was. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it. It must’ve just been the taste of the cogs. Were they made of copper, by chance?” “No. Those were made of iron. Copper is orange. Do I have t...to go through my collection again?” “I think you just might. I want to know which one it is next time I bite into it.” “Ugh, Joxter! That hasn’t happened in forever! Just come look at them, you silly tom cat.” He’d successfully distracted him from the hurt he was feeling, but it was only a temporary fix. His friend needed support that they hadn’t been giving him, but he’d make sure he got it now, starting with the simple act of listening.

Spring Flowers

TW: Mentions of Death, Flower Gore,

Oh god this was rushed..

Previous Chapter

Chapter Nine

Snufkin was not happy. In fact, he was pissed off. His father, who hasn't been a part of his life once, suddenly shows up out of nowhere. Joxter on the other hand, was happy to know his kid was still alive.

"Why are you here?" Snufkin growled. " I thought you left for good." Joxter sighed and pulled his red hat down a little. He seemed quite somber.

"I felt like seeing Moomin.. papa." Joxter explained. "When I got here, I heard from a snork about you and some kind of flower thing. I became very worried and decided to not leave as soon as I came. Because.. I.. well.. It's hard to explain."

"Ok?" Snufkin grumbled. "Did it ever occur to you that I might not want to see you? After all, you abandoned me. Did ya think about that?" Joxter covered his face with his hands.

"I'm sorry, little one. I.." Joxter paused, removing his hat. "I didn't want to lose someone to that flower disease again."

"Again? What to you mean again?" Moomintroll asked, sounding quite surprised.

"You were sick with the Blomst disease, right?" Joxter looked at his son. Snufkin nodded in response.

"Well, I knew someone who died from it... I was courting them before they passed away. This was a few months before I met your mother, Mymble." Joxter explained with a dull tone and saddened expression. "We had no idea what was going on. The day he died has been blocked out of my memories for a while now. So when I heard that you had some kind of flower illness, I wanted to make sure you were ok."

"Well, as you can see, I'm perfectly fine. Other than the tired feeling." Snufkin seemed a little less agitated. "But I do have one thing to ask."

"What is it?"

"Ever since I found out about what happened to me and where I was found, I made a promise to myself that I would ask you something." Snufkin took a breath and continued. "Why? Why did you abandon me in a basket in the river? Why didn't you continue to raise me?" A long, chilling momnet of silence struck the room. Then Joxter spoke.

"I put you in the basket because I couldn't find your mother and I was still heartbroken from losing my previous partner to the Blomst illness. I couldn't think properly, I couldn't sleep at night, I kept falling back into bad habits of stealing and breaking down signs.."

"Oh.." Snufkin sighed. "Ok." He tried to get out of the bed, but ended up stumbling and falling on the floor. Moomintroll rushed to help him up, keeping him steady as he stood up.

"Snufkin, don't push yourself to stand up right now. I don't want you getting hurt again." Moomintroll continued to keep his partner standing up.

"I know, Dove. But I really want to do something that requires me to stand up." Snufkin responded nonchalantly.

"D-Dove?!" Moomin squeaked, accidentally dropping Snufkin. "Oh shi- sorry!"

"It's fine. You were surprised. Should I not call you that?"

"Oh no, I like that name. It's cute."

"Just a reminder: I'm right here." Joxter chuckled. It made the two blush, even though they knew he was there.

"Snufkin, do you know what cured the illness?" The mumrik's cat like eyes reflected some emotion other than mischief or a cocky look. He appeared somewhat hopeful.

"Well, I.. Umm.." Snufkin's face was dusted with red yet again. "It's a long story. Can I get you to promise not to judge?"

"Sure."

"Ok... The cause of the flowers is if one is holding back emotions from the one they love. In my case, I was holding in my feelings for Moomintroll. It was really starting to effect me, which resulted in some daffodils growing on my face. It was surely weakening me, but it was threatening my life until a daffodil bloomed out of my eye socket. Then I had to let out those feelings. So, I told Moomintroll how I felt about him and the flowers crumbled off my face. And, as it turns out, Moomin loved me too." Snufkin was quite concerned when his father didn't say anything for a full minute. "I said too much, didn't I?"

"Oh no.. I'm just thinking about the past.." Joxter had a melancholy feel to his words. Which made the two even more concerned.

"Hey, do you think it would make you feel better if you told us about what happened with your partner?" Moomintroll asked. "You don't have to, if you don't want to."

"I believe it would be a good idea." Joxter nodded. "When I was sailing the sea on the Oshun Oxtra with Moomin's dad, Hodgekins, and.." He smiled slightly. Even though it made him sad to think about him, it still made him remember the happier moments. His face had the lightest blush.

"..Muddler, I was-"

"Wait, the Muddler as in Sniff's papa?" Moomintroll interrupted.

"Wait, what-"

Next Chapter

Lakeside part 2

(This is part 2 of my modern/human au. Here is part 1)

Taking the keys from the veranda table Moomintroll makes his way down to the shoreline. The lake still held his gaze as he made it to the sauna and it's extra room. The door opened after some trouble and a loud creek. Moomintroll looked around the room and let out a sigh. The place was covered in dust and cobwebs. He threw the bags to the floor and opened a window. He took a deep breath and took steps towards the sliding door. Moomintroll pulled on the door and it slid badly on it's rails. On the other side of that door was the washroom there were buckets and a wood powered water heater stood there next to the wall. From the years of use the wall had turned black around the water heater. Moomin turned back around and going to a different door. This time the door opened easily. In the small room there was a bed, desk and a cabinet. Each item of furniture was covered in dust. Moomin sighed and got to work.

After a lunch and a lot of cleaning Moomin was almost ready with cleaning when he heard a yell from outside. He stuck his head out of the window and looked for the source of the yelling. Little my soon walked near. "We are going to go to some camping ground. Chop chop." She said looking straight at Moomin. "Oh, but-" Moomin tried, but got cut off. "I don't care. Mamma asked me to come and get you so... Get a move on!" She started to tap her foot on the ground. Moomin quickly straightened his clothes and looked his white short hair over. "Good enough." He thought as he made his way out of the door after Little my who already sprinted off.

They walked the way to the camping ground. Pappa and Mamma keeping second hand in hand, only after Little my. Sniff was dead last, but even Moomin lagged more behind than normal. His thoughts were occupied by wondering ideas of how he wanted to spend his summer. Finally getting to the campgrounds Mamma and Pappa stopped and started going around introducing themselves as well as Sniff who stayed close to the couple in the hopes of being given food. Little my had already disappeared off somewhere and Moomin wanted to explore the place on his own. He said his hellos to some of the people who talked to him first, but didn't start anything himself.

As Moomin said goodbye to a lovely old couple who talked about this and that he heard a beautiful sound. a Harmonica playing a lovely melody. Moomin wanted to find it. He dodged and weaved between the people to the best of his abilities. He got to the edge of the campground and found two tents pitched right at the edge of the forest. Next to those he saw him the creator of that wonderful melody. His eyes were closed focusing on producing notes from his harmonica. His fluffy brown hair bounced a bit as he moved his head to catch the notes. His brows scrunched a bit as the melody moved. He was dressed in a dark green sweater with the sleeves rolled up, with darker brown pants that fit him nicely.

Suddenly as Moomin was lost in the wonder of the song and the looks of this man the melody stopped. Moomin turned his gaze upwards back to the man's face and saw that he had lowered his harmonica from his lips. His eyes were narrowly open and his brown colored eyes looked at him with suspicion."I am sorry. I heard you playing and it sounded so wonderful I had to find the source." Moomin got out mumbling in his words trying to look away form the man. "It is fine. I am glad you liked my song." the man said a smile playing on his lips. "My name is Moomin. Nice to meet you." Moomin said trying not to blush as he extended his hand towards the mysterious man. He got up and took Moomins hand. "Name's Snufkin. You camping here?" Snufkin said revealing his name. "Yeah...WELL no I live nearby here in a cottage, no I came to visit a cottage here for the summer. Haha.. I don't live here during the winter." Moomin stumbled as he tried to explain. Snufkin let out a cute chuckle while covering his face with one of his hands. Moomin looked on in awe. "Well that explains it." Snufkin said still holding his hand near his face. "Sorry." Moomin said letting his hand play with the edge of his shirt. "Don't be. You are staying nearby here, in which direction?" Snufkin asked lowering his hand from his face and grabbing his other arm that loosely rested on his side. "That way." Moomin pointed past the camping ground. "There is this little bay where our cottage is." He continued. "Our? You are here with somebody?" Snfkin asked and even if Moomin didn't notice it Snufkin's body tensed at the mention of somebody. "Oh, it's me, my parents and my two friends." Moomin answered his hand rubbing his chin as he thought.

Snufkin's arm let go of the other and lowered to his side. "Oh, that must be nice. I am here with my dad." Snufkin said pointing to the tents and as if on cue the other tent moved a bit before the tent opening flew open. An older looking man crawled out the tent and scratched his head looking over to moomin and Snufkin. Snufkin rubbed his forehead and explained "As I said my father Joxter." The man apparently named Joxter scratched his scruffy chin as he took steps towards the two all the while he scrunched up his eyes as if trying to make out what he was seeing. "You look familiar, boy." Joxter said as he got closer. "This is Moomin. His cottage is near here." Snufkin explained to his father. They really were alike both had similar jawlines and their brown hair was similar even if Snufkin's was of a lighter shade. Moomin once again lost in thought was snapped out by Snufkin turning to face him. "Well you boys have fun. I'm gonna go and see, if I can grab some grub as this party is going on." Joxter said as he walked off into the crowd. Snufkin let out a small laugh and Moomin joined in.

The two had been talking for a while now laughing and sharing stories, when Moomin heard his name being called. He turned around and saw his parents waving at him and walking in his direction, with Sniff behind them his arms full of food. "Well it's only fair you get to meet my family too." Moomin said getting up from the log turned bench he and Snufkin had been sitting on. His family got there and Moomin gave a quick hug to his parents and started the introductions. "This is my father Moominpappa and my mother MoominMamma, then there's Sniff my friend from back home." Moomin said pointing to each person as he introduced them. "Guys this is Snufkin. I met him here.." Moomin couldn't describe what they had been doing or why they were together, but luckily Pappa started talking. "You remind me of somebody." "Oh Snufkin's father-" was all that Moomin got out before he got interrupted by a yell "Moominpappa!" They all turned around and saw the hurried steps of Joxter coming towards them. "Joxter, good to see you." Pappa got out as Joxter reached them. After a short wave of hello between Snufkin and Joxter the group separated. Mamma and Pappa started talking together with Joxter, while Sniff, Snufkin and Moomin walked a short distance away and started their own talk.

After a moment or two of conversation Moomin remembered "Oh, we are missing one of my friends Little My. We lost her the moment we stepped on the camp site." Moomin explained. "Little My. I know her." Snufkin said without any emotion really. "How do you know her?" Moomin got out worry written on his voice while he rubbed his hands out of anxiety. Before Snufkin could even answer Little My walked up to the gab between Sniff and Snufkin. "You talking about me here?" She said snarkly while crossing her arms. She looked up and spotted Snufkin. Moomins heart beat fast as Little My took a moment before saying anything. "Hiya cuz." She said looking over to the sweating moomin. "I am your half-brother Little My." Snufkin said deadpan. Clearly bored of her snark attitude. "It's whatever isn't it." She said not caring really. Moomin realized the connection and let out a sigh, but as soon as that nervousness was over he was overcome by another. He knew of what had happened with Little My had the same happened with Snufkin? "You live with your older sister now, right?" Snufkin asked Little My. "Yeah, I spend a lot of time at the Moomin's too. You live with your dad?" she asked with clear weight on the question about his dad. "Well no. I live by myself and I spend holidays with him sometimes." Snufkin laughed awkwardly, while rubbing his neck. "Guessed so." Little My said throwing a dirty glance towards Joxter who was talking with Mamma and Pappa.

Sooner than Moomin would have wanted his parents came over and ushered that they had to start walking back now. Moomin sighed as his parents said their goodbyes to Joxter and Snufkin. They started walking towards the way they came Sniff and Little My following close behind. Moomin turned back towards Snufkin. Joxter had disappeared from his side and was crawling back inside the tent. "I hope I get to see you again." Moomin said scratching his arm. "I hope so too." Snufkin said a light blush covering his cheeks. "I'll try to come back here sometime and I'd hope to show you where I am staying too." Moomin got out trying to avoid Snufkin's gaze. "I'd like that." Snufkin said shortly. The two stood there without moving for a moment, before Snufkin said "You should go before you loose your family." Moomin turned around and took a step before saying "Yeah, goodbye Snufkin." Then he walked off after his family. "I hope I get to see you very soon." Snufkin whispered to himself as he watched Moomin run to catch his family.