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“This.. is a really big mansion, Foolish.” Fundy compliments, gaping at the in-progress mansion in front of him.
Foolish proceeded to wipe a bead of sweat, nodding along, “No kidding. But trust me, once this baby is finished, it’ll be the best looking thing on the server. Before my Temple of Undying of course.”
“Right, right.” Fundy unsurely nods, looking towards Snowchester, which seemed so minuscule in comparison to how disgustingly huge the mansion was. Even so, Fundy caught the eye of the houses. They were small yet cozy, perfect for a population of a few people.
“For such a huge house, who’s even living in this thing?” Fundy inquires.
Foolish swings his pickaxe over his shoulder, “Um, just Tubbo and Ranboo I think? And their son Michael. I think the whole reason they want this built is to protect him in it.”
Fundy’s eyes bulged, wobbling his finger towards the mansion, “This — This is for Michael? For that small little fucker?”
“You’ll be surprised, they’re very protective of him.”
“Protective is an understatement,” remarks Fundy, crossing his arms. The image of Tubbo and Ranboo’s death glares were flashing in his brain, sending a shiver down his body. “Overprotective, is more like it.”
“Yeah well you can never be too careful, especially on this server. From what I hear, deaths are a normal occurrence, scarily enough.” Foolish says, tainting the air with an uneasy atmosphere. Fundy couldn’t argue with that. He didn’t have to hear it, he’s witnessed it all. “Well, it was nice talking to you Fundy. I don’t know why you decided to come here, but I hope Snowchester serves you well.”
“Bye Foolish.” Fundy waves unenthusiastically, turning his heel towards Snowchester.
“Bye Fundy!”
Fundy trudged over to the water tunnel, sighing. Honestly, he wasn’t sure why he was in Snowchester. He heard of the mansion and wanted to see it for himself, hoping to strike up a conversation with Tubbo or Ranboo, but neither of them were there. Plus, even though purposely annoying people was one of Fundy’s specialties, he didn’t feel like pestering Foolish.
As Fundy continued to amble past the homes, he caught sight of something in one of the windows.
He caught a glimpse of a shade of pink with hints of green, before that figure seemed to vanish.
“What the…” Fundy says, inspecting the window. He looked towards Foolish, who seemed hard at work. Surely he wouldn’t mind if he sneaked around, right?
Fundy stealthily sneaked in the house, rummaging through chests and items. “I’ve been here before.. this is.. this is Tubbo’s house.”
His eye then caught the ladder, so obviously he had to climb up it. He peeped his head through the trap door, deciding it was safe enough to climb through. He proceeded to close the trap door, “Okay, now — OH SHIT!”
Fundy nearly drops dead as a baby zombie pigman greets him, standing idly right below him.
“Why are children so damn scary?” Fundy shrieks, shuffling away. “Wait a sec, I’ve been in this room before. Michael, right?”
Michael was unresponsive, prompting Fundy to wonder aloud more. “You’re Ranboo and Tubbo’s child? Seriously?”
Fundy picked Michael up by the armpits, scowling intensely at him. Michael blankly stared back, with a giddy eye. Fundy scoffs, “How in the world, did a fucker like you win the lottery for decent parents?”
Michael burped in response.
Fundy sighed, setting Michael down. Unfortunately however, Michael just stood there. Fundy squinted at him, “What are you looking at?”
Michael blinked, ambling closer towards the fox. Fundy steadily backed away until he hit a wall, “Shit.”
Fundy tried to shoo him away like a pest, but Michael kept waddling closer. Fundy’s feet were glued to the floor, watching Michael latch his eye on something.
Fundy then felt a tiny, grabby hand yank lightly at his tail. He softened, seeing Michael stroke his tail. Michael tried to yank out chunks of fur but his grip wasn’t too hard, and it honestly felt comforting, weirdly enough.
A small smile crept on Fundy’s lips, fallen victim to Michael’s adorableness. “You like the tail, huh?”
Michael nodded, wide eyed and delighted.
“Oh shit you understand,” Fundy dreadfully realized, the smile wiped off his face, replaced with sheer panic, “Oh god, please don’t tell your fathers what I said about you, I take it all back.”
Michael didn’t seem to understand, yet his silence made Fundy quake with anxiety. “You can play with my tail if you stay quiet?” Fundy offers, “Would you like that? Yeah? Okay, thank fuck.”
After no response, Fundy came to another revelation, “Wait. You.. don't even talk. Do pigmans even speak English? Can pigmans even speak? I mean.. Technoblade can talk just fine. Are you related to Technoblade?”
Michael kept playing around with Fundy’s tail, completely oblivious to his ramble. “That would be kinda awkward, considering your dad was executed by him. Yikes.”
Fundy swishes his tail around, watching Michael gape at its movement. He ran his hands through the fur, admiring the texture. Fundy admires the child, seeing the glee in his single eye. His gaze then examines the room, where there was a family photo plastered into the wall. Fundy has seen it already (and even made fun of it) but honestly he felt envious towards it. It was nauseating how wholesome it was.
“That’s a nice photo.” Fundy ponders aloud. It was a photo of Ranboo, Tubbo, and Michael. All of them had blinding smiles, pure happiness etched on their face. One big happy family.
Fundy didn’t mean to sulk over something so happy, but it was hard not to. “I don’t.. I don’t think I have any photos of my parents. Wilbur never bothered to take any.. and I don’t even know what my mom looks like, let alone have a photo.. and even if I did, I don’t remember. At least you can remember, since your fathers stare at you while you sleep. Weird.”
Fundy swings his legs on Michael’s bed, staring blankly at the wood ceiling. Michael crawls over to Fundy’s side, patting his hands on Fundy’s ears. They twitch at the delicate touch, making Michael entranced. “Man, you really like the ears huh?” Michael nods, making Fundy laugh.
Michael’s silence led Fundy to stare aimlessly, replacing his boredom with deprecating thoughts.
It was slightly concerning that despite Michael’s cuteness and the wholesome interactions, Fundy still felt the envy eating at him. It wasn’t Michael’s fault, though. It wasn’t his fault that Michael scored good parents and Fundy was painfully jealous of him.
Fundy turned his head towards the baby pigman, longingly staring at him, “You don’t know how lucky you are, don’t you? Two parents that are alive, actively loving you, protecting you. Building a giantass mansion for you. Actually.. caring about you.” he didn’t mean to sting himself with his own words, but it sure did hurt.
He sighed, letting Michael get closer to his ears. “I want to be mad at you, but I can’t. Not cause you’re incredibly adorable.. Definitely not that. It’s like.. I want to be you.”
Fundy was then slapped back to reality, realizing what he had said.
“That.. sounds weird. You’re like what, two? Three?” Fundy huffs. The statement was still true, he wouldn’t mind being three again. Those years in his adolescence were his core memories, the ones he holds close to him. “You have a happy family. How the hell did a baby pigman accomplish that before me?”
Fundy leans on his palm, his fox ears fidgeting while in thought. Michael began to crawl on Fundy’s lap, reaching for Fundy’s ears.
“Ow. That tickles.” He says, adjusting Michael to fit on his lap. Michael patted his ears, fascinated with it. Michael then takes a glance outside, gawking at the buildings outside. Fundy notices Michael’s infatuation for the outside. “Do you even like it here? It’s so boring. There’s no books, you can’t even go downstairs, all the windows are blocked off.. they really shut you off from the world. That’s no good.”
Michael’s tiny hands grip the windows, gazing hopelessly at the outside world, cloaked in white. Michael’s single eye sparkles wistfully, in pure awe. There was a faint familiarity in his gaze, like he’s previously gazed out the window before.
“Nice, huh?” Fundy beams, looking out the window with him. “I’m sure they mean well, though. Foolish was right about the server not being so kind to mobs. Besides.. every parent means well.”
While gazing, Michael suddenly yawns, falling on his feet, and plopping onto Fundy’s lap. “What the — why are you sleepy? It’s like 4 P.M!” He exclaims, while Michael reaches for Fundy’s tail, using it as a cushion for his head. “Fuck, that’s.. that’s actually kinda adorable.”
Fundy sets him down on the bed, but also lays down beside him. He held Michael close to him, as the pigmans breathed relaxed exhales, dwindling to slumber. That alone made Fundy sleepy as well, as the thought of a small nap became enticing.
-
“Uh, Fundy?”
Fundy felt a small rustle in the bedsheets, but didn’t bother to move.
“Fundy.”
His eyelids suddenly weigh, making him realize he fell asleep. He felt incredibly drowsy, and continued to feel so in the comfort of the soft pillow.
“Fundy!”
The thundering voice jolts Fundy awake, realizing the owner of the voice. Fundy goes pale, seeing the daunting, slender two-toned figure standing menacingly at the corner of the room. God, he was never going to get used to that. “Fucking — holy shit. Hi.. Ranboo.”
Ranboo’s fixed stare pinned Fundy down, as he sighed in disappointment, “Why are you here Fundy?”
“Um. Babysitting?” Fundy sheepishly excuses.
“I don’t recall ever calling a babysitter.” Ranboo remarks.
“Okay, listen I — “ Fundy begins, until he feels the bedsheets rustle. He looks over, seeing Michael yawn awake. “Awh man, you woke him up!”
Ranboo didn’t bother responding, patiently waiting for Fundy to leave.
“Fine, I’ll leave. I just wanted to visit Michael.” Fundy says, hopping off the bed. Suddenly, he felt the tug of his tail, followed with Michael pouting. “Sorry little guy, your dad wants me to leave.”
Michael pouts, his head hanging down in disappointment. Fundy panicked, “Um, m — maybe you can play with my tail another time?” He assures, supplied with a toothy grin from Michael. “Nice.”
Fundy gives one last wave, “See? The kid likes me — “
“Get out.”
Fundy flustered up, “Yeah, okay, yeah, I’m leaving.”
The two make their way downstairs, and while Fundy tries to make a sneaky exit, Ranboo catches him.
“So you just decided to come into our house unannounced? And randomly decide to babysit Michael? Fundy, last time you tried opening a window to set him loose!” Ranboo exclaims.
“Listen, listen, sorry about that. But, why are you so worked up about it? See, Michael likes me! Besides, he seems a little lonely.”
“He’s fine, Fundy.” Ranboo sharply assures.
Fundy scowled. Something about a parent acting like they knew better for their children left a bitter taste in his mouth. “Ranboo, dude. Come on. I know you love Michael. He’s a good kid. And the fact you’re making that giantass mansion for him shows it. Just.. be careful, okay?”
Ranboo grimances, “What do you mean be careful? We’re doing everything to protect him.”
“Y’see, and that’s just it,” Fundy sighs frustratedly. “I get you wanna shield him from the server because everything that’s not a player seems to just, fucking die. But I know what it’s like to be a sheltered child, and a child of a father promising them a large sum of land, promising protection. I would know.”
Ranboo’s gaze slightly softened, yet still held his protective stance.
“Kids get real lonely Ranboo. If you trap that kid in a home a hundred times bigger than his bedroom, the kid's gonna get real lonely. And if you don’t care to properly love them, and I don’t mean shit like, coddling him and being overprotective, you’re going to lose your child.”
Fundy didn’t mean to project, but it’s hard not to when he sees a carbon copy of himself through Michael, while simultaneously being the complete opposite. The mansion was merely a home for a kid that needs to be shielded from a destructive server. And that sounded awfully familiar to him.
“I know you probably aren’t like that Ranboo, but.. just making sure people don’t make the same mistakes you know? So history doesn’t repeat itself. Don’t want people going through that.”
“Fundy, what are you — “
“Sorry, I’ll actually leave now. Don’t expect me to come back, just came for a quick visit!” Fundy assured, exchanging a flimsy smile to the Enderman. The door slammed, sending a shudder throughout the entire house. Ranboo stood there, trying to digest Fundy’s words. Ironically enough, Ranboo ignored it, and tried to forget it.
A while later, Tubbo came home. After giving a plate of dinner to Michael, the two sat down on the Snowchester podium, surveying the mansion construction.
They both ate bread as Tubbo rambles about some random facts, yet Ranboo couldn’t pry Fundy’s words out of his mind. It kept prodding him, annoying him until he decided to answer to his demanding thoughts.
“Fundy visited today,” Ranboo abruptly drops, “He told me he was babysitting Michael.”
“I didn’t tell anyone to babysit him.” chimes Tubbo.
“Neither did I. He just stopped by, I guess. Also, he said something about.. actually, never mind.”
“No, what did he say?”
Ranboo is hesitant, but spills it anyways, “He said something about Michael,” Tubbo’s eyes shot up, immediately interested, “Something about Michael being a sheltered child, and that if we don’t properly love him we’re gonna lose him. I don’t know.”
“Like.. if we don’t feed him he’ll die? Or we don’t parent him enough he might hate us?”
“Both? I don’t know. I’m guessing he doesn’t like the mansion we’re making.” Ranboo shrugs, “I don’t care though. Who is he to give advice on children?” Ranboo jokes, expecting a reaction out of his partner. Tubbo however, stayed unresponsive, looking deeply in thought.
“I mean, he kinda is though.” defends Tubbo, earning a judgemental glare from his husband.
Ranboo pursed his lips in confusion, “I don’t recall Fundy having a child — “
“No, you idiot, he is that child.” Tubbo corrects bluntly, ripping into a bite of his bread.
Ranboo blinked. “What?”
“You didn’t forget already, did you? Fundy is Wilbur’s child, if anything, he’s like the definition of daddy issues.” Tubbo proceeded to chomp on his bread, sitting idly while Ranboo sat there perplexed.
“Well, Tubbo, I’ve never met Wilbur. I’ve met Ghostbur, but I don’t think that counts.” Ranboo says, picking at the crusts of his bread.
“Yeah, well, he wasn’t the most kind to Fundy.”
Ranboo cocks a brow, “How so?”
“I mean.. he hasn’t had the best life. I would know. I was there, during L’Manberg. Wilbur created L’Manberg as a safe space for Europeans, but I also think Wilbur wanted to protect Fundy you know? And well, L’Manberg is kinda dead… like Wilbur. In fact, Wilbur blew up L’Manberg. His own father blew up his home barely after getting it back. It kinda sucked. Plus, Fundy’s mom is like.. nowhere to be found. Also probably.. dead. Apparently she’s in a bucket somewhere. ”
“A — A bucket?” Ranboo sputtered.
“She’s a salmon, you know.”
Ranboo didn’t have to know that, and yet, that made matters worse. “Oh god.”
“Yeah. Fundy kinda has a fucked up family life.” responds Tubbo, weirdly nonchalant. Ranboo would’ve pointed out how apathetic Tubbo has become, but it wouldn’t affect Fundy’s daddy’s issues anyways.
“Huh. If that’s the case, I don’t want Michael to end up like Fundy.”
“Try not to die then, okay? Or blow up anything. Or fuck a fish.” Tubbo laughs emptily.
Ranboo stares at his husband judgingly, laughing it off, “Okay, Tubbo.”
The two sat in silence for a bit longer, leaving Ranboo with his thoughts.
He heard pieces about Fundy’s past, yet never looked at the big picture. He never really needed to. To Ranboo, his and Fundy’s relationship was a bit complicated. They were friends, once. He had conflicting morals that didn’t align with his, and despite becoming decent friends, after Doomsday, it was never the same.
And although Fundy was one of those people who relished in L’Manberg’s third destruction, he was also one of those people who loved L’Manberg. Fundy wanted to see L’Manberg in shambles, but he wasn’t always like that.
Ranboo will never know what L’Manberg truly meant to Fundy. Ranboo only saw L’Manberg as a government, and most significantly, a side. He was never really attached, but Fundy was. Fundy had to watch L’Manberg be formed, be stripped away, and blown up by the person he trusted most. The only piece of family he had left was gone.
Ranboo could only imagine Fundy’s feelings towards Ghostbur. Although it wasn’t Wilbur, it couldn’t change what Fundy had felt. Wilbur had ignored him whilst being alive, so Fundy had obvious resentment towards him.
Fundy knew what it was like to be alone. A lonely child.
But Ranboo knew, in a weird way, Fundy loved him, and even though Fundy could rant about how much he hates his father’s guts, deep down, all he wanted was a family.
So when Fundy, the usually sly, mischievous fox seemed to actually care about the well-being of Michael, it made Ranboo think if what he was doing was correct.
Fundy lost his Wilbur due to his father’s overprotective tendencies and greed, so it became an obligation for Fundy to make sure it never happens again, even if it’s a smaller scale. Ranboo hadn’t even noticed the similarities.
After some insightful thinking, Ranboo admittedly sighs, “Fundy’s kinda right though. We do kinda.. Lock Michael up in a room all day, and we only visit him in the morning and before we tuck him into bed. I know he’s only three but kids can feel lonely. Maybe he already is, and we don’t know.”
“I know..” Tubbo’s shoulders sunk, already disappointed thinking about it, “But, you live with Techno and you can’t always come here. And I have the nukes and mansion to take care of.” He sulked, fondling the bread in his hand. That was until an idea ignited in Tubbo’s mind. Admittedly, a dumb one maybe. “Say, you think Fundy wouldn’t mind if — “
“Tubbo,” cuts Ranboo, already piecing together the other half of his response, “You aren’t seriously considering…” Ranboo trails off, only met with a determined stare from Tubbo. He sighed, “Are you sure? I mean, Fundy did almost release our child into the wild.”
“Yeah but, he seems like a decent babysitter. Does Michael like him?”
Before Ranboo answered, the memory of Michael tugging Fundy’s tail flashed in his mind. He recalls Michael’s sulk when Fundy had to leave, and his smile once Fundy promised to come back. He couldn’t break that promise.
Ranboo thinks for a moment, giving a nod. “You know what, sure, why not.”
-
“Wait, what?”
“Do you want to babysit or not, Fundy?”
Fundy looked at Ranboo, then Tubbo, who was right beside him. He surveyed them incredulously, unsure if they were serious. “But.. I thought.. Wait, what? I thought you guys were gonna like.. banish me from Snowchester, or some shit.”
“We’re still considering it, to be honest.” Tubbo mentions.
“WHAT? No, no. Don’t say that, please, you just got my hopes up.” Fundy whines.
“He’s kidding.. I think.” Ranboo doubtfully assures. “But no, we didn’t call you to kick you out. We actually wanted to know if.. you wouldn’t mind babysitting Michael?”
Fundy kept staring at them, figuring out if this was a sick game to play at his emotions. The last thing he needed was getting his hopes up, even if he was a babysitter. The more he glared however, the more horribly awkward it became, and it became more apparent the duo were serious.
“Wait, actually?” Fundy astonishingly laughs, disbelief in his eyes, “I mean, yeah! Sure! Wait, why?”
The duo send a look, letting Ranboo speak for the both of them, “Well uh.. Tubbo and I are kinda in a tricky situation, as the person I share a home with kinda hates my husband, so I don’t wanna make him suspicious of me than he already is.”
“And I have.. Business to take care of,” Ranboo nearly wanted to face-palm about how not-so-discreet Tubbo’s answer was, “Yep. Lots of business.”
“Uh huh. Okay.. sure.” Fundy skeptically nods, not really caring to theorize about what Tubbo’s “business” was.
“And, well to be quite honest, we thought about what you said a while ago,” Ranboo sheepishly adds, his embarrassed gaze fixed to the ground, “That maybe isolating Michael isn’t the best option along with a huge mansion to lock him in. But, we can’t change how long we’re able to visit him, and judging by how Michael likes you, you seem like the perfect fit for a babysitter.”
In that moment, Fundy felt pure joy in that single comment, warmth blooming his heart. He didn’t expect it to hit that hard. He hasn’t been complimented in a while, it’s usually the opposite. It hurts, but when it’s been like that his whole life, it becomes a daily occurrence. He wasn’t even yearning for any type of validation anymore. So when Ranboo actually complimented him, it was surreal, as if it was foreign to his ears.
Perhaps it sounded silly, that being called a decent babysitter is something to cry about. Fundy never had many things to cry about unless they were sad. This was the first come he could burst into tears from pure, unbridled joy.
Fundy could feel the tears burning behind his eyes, but forces it away, “That is.. actually the nicest compliment I’ve ever received. Thank you.”
Ranboo seemed oblivious of Fundy’s elation, but smiles, “Awh, no problem. But uh.. you wouldn’t mind starting now would you?”
Fundy blinks, “R — Right now?”
-
Fundy peeped his head through the trap door, “Michael? You here bud?”
He scans the bedroom, as his eyes fall on the pigmans seated at his bed. Michael’s eyes immediately sparkle, pouncing off his bed to waddle to Fundy.
Fundy climbed up the trapdoor, closing it as he held his arms open for Michael to crash into, “Hey! I’m back. Missed me?” Michael eagerly nods, earning a pat on the head from Fundy. Michael immediately grabs for Fundy’s tail, patting through the fur, “Oh, I’m guessing you just miss the tail. Fair enough.”
Michael nuzzles his snout on his tail, making Fundy’s heart flip. “I can’t let you play with my tail forever, you need other hobbies. So,” Fundy pulled out a book and quill, one he kept on him. It was a weird habit he had ever since his Manberg spying days. Although he wasn’t spying on anyone, he felt better writing down at his emotions into a book. He also liked writing down the names of people who liked him, and especially those who complimented him. He hasn’t been doing it much lately, so it was about time the book came in handy. He ripped a few pages out and flung them to the ground, “How about we start drawing? I’ll teach you.”
Michael instantly obeys, sitting down on the floor. Fundy does the same, criss-crossing in front of him.
“Let's start with something simple, how about..” Fundy draws a simple smiley face, until realizing it looked awfully like a certain someone, “Oh shit, okay, maybe not that. That face scares the fuck out of me. Oh fuck, don’t draw that, Michael.” Fundy quickly crossed out the page, flipping it to the other side. “Okay, uh, how about you draw something?”
He hands Michael the pen, adjusting it in his flimsy grip. Fundy watched, as Michael drew a messy circle. It took him about a minute to draw, and once he was done, Michael passed it to Fundy. He picks it up, “Oh! It’s you! It’s a pig!”
Michael nods, picking up another paper. This time Michael was more confident with his lines, but still struggled with his overall grip. He was getting better though, and he seemed to be having fun.
“Oh! Is that…” the creases of Fundy’s smile fade, realizing what Michael had drawn was familiar, “That’s a cute fish, Michael.”
Michael held up his drawing, smiling with satisfaction. Fundy puts up a faulty smile, taking the drawing, “It reminds me of someone, actually. Do you mind if I keep this?”
Michael nods, taking another piece of paper to draw on. Fundy takes a good look at the drawing. Sure, it's messy, obviously drawn by a toddler, and definitely didn’t look like his mother, but it was a picture. Something physical he could hold onto. Something to remember her by.
Honestly, Fundy had forgotten why he resented Michael in the first place. It may have taken a bit of bonding and self reflection, but the kid never deserved any hate just because Fundy was jealous. He was a loved kid, and Fundy wanted to keep it that way.
Fundy neatly folds the drawing into the slip of his pocket, looking at the baby pigman in adoration.
“Thanks, Michael.”