#dark!muddler

[breiffontcollector]

What do you mean this isn’t how stealing someone’s heart works @zoomee-moomee

[longpigsinablanket]

Joxter and the Muddler weren't sure how they got roped into this.

Moomin's proposal of a week-long camping expedition had sounded appealing, with his sensational plans of midnight swims, fresh mountain air, and fireside coffee to sip while the gang traded secrets. Muddler immediately jumped at the idea, even if only for the opportunity to hunt for stones and leaves. And with only a bit of coaxing from him, Joxter agreed some time away from sea would do them all well. Perhaps even - they both thought, blushing at the idea - they could share something a little more special than a cup of coffee, without the disapproving eyes of the Muddler's uncle staring them down.

But once the last tent spike had been hammered down, the moment Moomin lit his sorry excuse for a campfire, it was clear his stories were to take priority over the promised conversation and adventure.

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[zoomee-vroomee]

Okay, let’s try out dark!muddler, shall we? I’m still new to darker things so it may be a bit meh.

Though he was just as strong, physically, as Moomin and Hodgkins, Joxter was the easiest to manipulate. He was touch starved and lonely, so all it really took was a few bats of his eyelashes and a sing-songy 'Joxaren' to bring him in line.

He truly was a weak man. Luckily, Muddler had a thing for weak men.

He waited for just the right moment, when the others were going off on their own, to pull him aside. He took him by his collar and brought him close, teasing him with the idea of a kiss, but never delivering.

"I need your help, tom cat."

"Mm?"

The mumrik tried to kiss him, needy as always, but Muddler put his paw between them, pushing him away.

"Moomin's been bothering me."

He shifted, taking Muddler's paws and speaking with much more concern. "What's he done?"

“Oh, well- That is t...to say...”

The stutter always got to him, made him think he was just too upset to talk right. That he was the victim. He wouldn’t ask questions.

“You can tell me.”

“He’s just been awfully mean to me, Joxaren. He needs to be t...taught some manners.”

No he hadn’t. He just irritated him with one too many egotistical rants and he wanted him knocked down a peg or twenty. Perhaps, literally.

“This seems more like a job for Hodgkins.” “Oh, no! Not Hodgkins! Moomin will be mad if I tell him!” He let his eyes go wide, giving him that wild look of an animal in danger, and he forced a tremble throughout his body, something he’d become very good at. “I see,” he whispered gravely, clearly taking the bait. “I’ll handle him, then.” “Oh, thank you so much!” He pulled him in again, finally giving him that kiss he’d been wanting and squeezing him in his arms, some sinister tinge in the way he smiled now. “Anything for you, mouse.”

[zoomee-vroomee]

The first of Joxter’s romantic offerings had been a dead squirrel. Sadly, it was the non-talking kind, but it suited Muddler well enough. “Oh my heart, thank you! This is just what I’ve been wanting!” He gave him a soft kiss and took the corpse from his hands to look it over, bubbling with excitement. He’d never been able to catch one before. “You... really like it?” Joxter asked, a bit confused, but smiling nonetheless. “Nobody’s ever liked my gifts.” “Of course I do! Would you like t..to see what I do with them?” He didn’t wait for a response before adding, “Follow me.” He led him to the ship’s kitchen, locking the door behind them and giving him a wink before shoving a cupboard out of the way of a door that Joxter had never seen before. Through it, there was darkness and some strange, unpleasant scent. When he lit a lantern, he was met with small jars filled with little hearts and brains and a menagerie of animal skulls. At first, he was surprised and Muddler thought he might have to do something about him, but then he curiously looked over each item, just as he’d hoped. Muddler made himself busy, preparing the squirrel for dissection while the mumrik watched. He did keep a close eye on him, however, still too uncertain to trust he wouldn’t do or say anything.

As he made the first incisions and peeled back the creature’s skin, he heard Joxter gag, setting him on edge. However, when he finally cut through the abdominal wall, his friend was much more interested, leaning over his shoulder to get a better look at its organs. “It’s not bleeding?” “The dead don’t bleed, dear. Shouldn’t you know that by now?” “Well, I’ve never...” He gave him a sweet smile. “I thought so. Would you like to try?” “No.” “Oh, come now.” He shoved the noticeably blood-stained scalpel into his hands and traded places with him. “It’s fun. Here, cut across there. Carefully, now.” The mumrik complied and made a sloppy incision, agitating a grunt from his teacher. Each subsequent cut didn’t get any better, but Muddler bit his tongue. Now wasn’t the time to make a fuss. Once the creature’s heart had been removed, he took his tools back, nudging Joxter to the side. “I’ll handle the rest. Wasn’t it fascinating, though?” “It was certainly something.” Muddler’s expression dropped, irritated, and there was something threatening about his glare. “It was fun, though, right?”

A gulp, then he nodded. “Somewhat.” “Lovely! You can help me with the collection. Just the trapping part, don’t worry.” And, before he could object. “Well, I should get on with it, then. Some privacy?” “Uh- Right. Of course.” “Kiss goodbye?” He gave him that deceptively sweet smile of his, fully aware that a kiss wasn’t appropriate after what had just happened. Still, he got what he wanted, a hesitant peck, and was finally left to his own devices, sure that he’d gained an obedient assistant.

[zoomee-vroomee]

Standing only a meter apart, both with unreadable expressions, Muddler and Joxter had entered into a precarious dance. If either made a single wrong move, trouble would undoubtedly follow.

Muddler wasn’t one for making the wrong move, however, so he was confident that he had the upper hand. Though, he wouldn’t show it. He could see all the ways Joxter could take his life if he got too cocky.

“Were you angry or just bored?” He leaned a bit to get a good look at the mess of viscera behind Joxter, dropping his false timidity.

“I was bored.” Joxter took a step toward him, threatening, “Don’t move or I’ll show you what angry looks like.”

He followed suit, stepping up right in front of him. “Oh, my sweet mouser, there’s no need for intimidation. I’d never tell anyone.”

Claws found their way around his neck, squeezing and drawing just enough blood to be alarming. He could easily be murdered, right then and there, but Muddler just found that all the more thrilling.

Joxter let up, seeming just the right amount of suspicious. “You’re enjoying this.”

“I am.” “Why?”

Now was his chance to take control and lay claim to such a useful tool. He was such an easy target, as well, having a thin layer of coolness that hid all of his ridiculous emotions.

“I love you, dear.” He put on his most charming smile. “You’re exciting.”

Clenching his teeth, Joxter dug his claws into Muddler’s neck. “You’re lying.”

Rather than fight against him, Muddler just gripped his wrist and whined, pushing himself to seem much more submissive than he was.

And it worked.

Though he still seemed skeptical, Joxter retracted his claws and gave him space. “You’ll regret this if-” Before he could finish, Muddler pressed a hard kiss to his lips, letting his toxicity mingle with Joxter’s through bite marks and blood. It tasted, wonderfully, of depravity and iron.

Soon, all that skepticism melted away, replaced with the delusion of love. Or whatever Joxter thought love was.

Either way, Muddler had another heart for his collection and an instrument for his sins.

[zoomee-vroomee]

What if dark!Muddler puts something into a snack he made for Moominpappa, like a nail or something? and when Moominpappa inevitably chokes on it Muddler plays it off as an accident? And me makes sure to mention that due to the damage he might not be able to talk for a while

Oh my, yes. Of course he’d try to shut him up any way he can. What a good idea. Here you are:

Moomintroll had been talking for far too long, telling some lengthy, exaggerated story again. It was getting on Muddler’s nerves.

Luckily, he had just the thing to quiet him down.

Standing, he put on his sweetest smile and asked, “Tea and sandwiches, anyone?”

Nods from everyone at the table, but Moomintroll had to go and say, “Coffee for me.”

“Coffee for you.”

Coffee for him, indeed. He wasn’t a common waiter. He didn’t take orders. He gave them. But, as annoying as the request was, it would make his plans much easier.

Going off to the galley, he gripped the dense, triangle-shaped button in his pocket, letting it dig into his flesh. It didn’t draw any blood, which he noted with displeasure.

The thing had one job and it couldn’t even leave a bruise. He’d have to fix it first.

Finally in the kitchen, he left the kettle on while he carved away at the wooden button until it was just sharp enough for his needs.

Examining it, just to be sure, he found that there were jagged splinters all across it’s edges. Oh, it would do nicely.

He plated their food and drinks, pouring them ahead of time for once, and plunked the thorny trinket into the only cup of coffee. A quick glance found that it had sunk to the bottom and was completely hidden by the darkness.

Just as he’d planned.

Biting back a crooked grin, he returned to his friends with the tray and served them each individually, giving Moomintroll a polite smile when he set his drink down.

“Ah. Thank you, Muddler. Now, as I was saying…”

Muddler sat back in his seat across from the troll and dug his claws into his palms to keep himself from laughing when he finally gulped down his coffee in that aggravating way he always did.

His irritating habits proved useful, however, as he hadn’t even noticed the button graze over his tongue before it lodged itself in the back of his throat.

He began gagging and choking, the others rushing to help him, while Muddler sat back and stabbed at his own skin so he would grin. How he hoped splinters would catch in his throat and wreck it just enough that he’d never speak again.

Once they’d gotten the thing out, Moomintroll’s voice had been muted and it was clear every sound, every breath, was excruciating for him.

Muddler couldn’t help but laugh, though they all knew he was a nervous laugher. Still, he forced out tears and hasty apologies, making the excuse that he must’ve dropped it. He hadn’t meant to. He was so sorry.

And the others fell for it, giving him reassurance even while tending to the injured troll, as if he was just as important.

When all calmed down, he gave Moomintroll a knowing wink and whined, “And now we c…c-can’t hear the end of your story! How dreadful!”

And he was delighted to see that Moomintroll bristled at his fabricated remorse, but made no attempts to point out his misdeed.

Maybe he’d finally learned his lesson.

[rotten-dandelions]

So… I just want to thank @zoomin-moomins for providing Dark!Muddler content. This is my new obsession and I love him. 

He’s not impressed with Moomin’s bragging.

[zoomee-vroomee]

There was just so much to hate when it came to Moomin. He had the largest ego of the group, his need for attention was stifling, his ears were too pointy, his tail too long, his fur too... too...

Muddler slammed his fist down on the table, recieving a flinch from the moomin before standing to tower over him.

"Shut up. Please. I can't listen to this anymore."

"Muddler, what-"

He leaned in close and poked his chest, letting his claw dig into it. "You're nothing but a nuisance, you know that? You talk and talk and never say anything as profound as you think you do."

Moomin pressed as far back into his chair as he could go, wincing from the sharpness against his chest. He didn't look nearly scared enough, just confused. That wouldn't do at all.

Muddler kicked his chair over, laughing when his head bounced off the floor. "Do us all a favor and never speak again."

He took a blunt butter knife from the table and pressed it against his throat, straddling him. He felt him start to tremble underneath him.

"I can help you with that, if you'd like. I don't have any vocal cords in my collection yet, so it would be my pleasure."

The terror in his eyes absolutely delighted him. How quickly a proud moomin could be made humble.

He laughed again and tossed the knife back on the table, standing and pulling Moomin up with him. "Just k...k-kidding. I couldn't ever do something like that! Especially not with something so blunt! Sorry I knocked you over."

The moomin was tense, too tense to talk. The silence was music to Muddler's ears. It made him much more tolerable. Pleasant even.

He helped him back into his seat with a sweet smile, demeanor completely changed. "Now, how about some c..coffee?"