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As soon as Mumbo shuffled into Doc’s bedroom to visit him after the incident with the creeper-hybrid’s arm, the younger man immediately burst into tears.
It wasn’t pretty tears either, it was embarrassingly loud hiccuping sobs that left him breathless. Even though Doc was quite sympathetic, trying to calm Mumbo down and forgiving him for the accident immediately, Mumbo couldn’t help but cry even harder at that as the guilt curled and grew in him like a poisonous vine.
Mumbo didn’t know how to articulate what he was feeling to Doc besides stammered out, pleading apologies. Walking in the room to see Doc- a member of his family he loved so much- lying in bed with dark circles under his eyes and a shiny, new prosthetic to replace the one Mumbo’s redstone monstrosity had torn apart felt like he had gotten the wind knocked out of him.
Throughout the visit, and even in days after it, whenever Mumbo would see Doc around the server, harsh whispers of angry blame would echo in his head. It was all his fault. It was his foolishness, his stupid mistake, his blatant ignorance that had caused pain to someone he cared about.
So even though Doc was quick to forgive and forget about the whole incident and even though none of the other Hermits blatantly told Mumbo it was his fault, he still found himself unable to internalize that forgiveness and let go of his guilt.
“Accidents happen, so don’t worry about it,” Doc had assured him during his visit, and in the moment Mumbo just nodded and tried to wipe away the tears all over his face. He never told Doc he didn’t really agree with that sentiment; the severe injury he had caused was an easily preventable accident, a mistake he was sure no one else on the server would make, but of course Mumbo made it.
All he did was mess things up.
…
Mumbo was not a violent person. He could hold his own around a sword quite well, but he would never start a fight if he could avoid it.
That being said, if Mumbo ever met Axel in person, he was sure all of that would go out the window.
Maybe that was just Mumbo projecting his own loathing and regret onto someone else though.
It had been about a week after the emergency at the MCC party. After a day or two of taking time for themself to deal with everything that had happened and relaxing before jumping back into building, Iskall had been eager to get up and about again. They smiled and joked around like they always did, and maybe that’s what made Mumbo forget for a moment what had happened to his friend a few days prior.
Mumbo had seen Iskall leaning against the barge and chatting with Ren and Beef, and of course he decided to go up and casually throw his arm around Iskall’s shoulder, because Mumbo was a moron that lacked basic compassion and understanding.
The pure look of raw fear that flashed over Iskall’s face at the physical contact- the way their face paled and they stiffened up like they were about to bolt any second- would haunt Mumbo for a long time.
It didn’t matter that Mumbo immediately let go of them and stumbled away from them, stuttering apologies as soon as he realized what he had done. It didn’t matter that he backed off when Iskall harshly dropped to their knees, almost hyperventilating and mumbling no’s under their breath, trapped in the memories of almost being sexually assaulted by Axel, memories that Mumbo’s stupid actions had dug up. It didn’t matter that he let a very concerned but also calm and practiced Ren talk and comfort Iskall down from a panic attack, while he just ran home to collapse on his bed and sob into a pillow because he knew Iskall would be better off without him being there to make it worse. It especially didn’t matter that he messaged Iskall over and over again that night giving apology after apology that they accepted.
None of that mattered.
Because Mumbo had triggered them.
Mumbo had hurt them.
Mumbo wasn’t able to help them when they had been assaulted in the first place, and he clearly couldn’t be trusted to be around them afterwards.
And when Mumbo became way less physically affectionate with Iskall after that day, subtly flinching away from their touch like it burnt him? Well, that was for the better.
All he did was mess things up.
…
Some days all Mumbo felt like he had was his redstone. His redstone was reliable. A piston would always push, an observer would sense change, and redstone would power. It was simple, methodic, and uncomplicated.
That’s why Mumbo sometimes got lost in his own head while working on a project, because it was so easy to slip away from the anxiety and the guilt and just methodically place down circuits and machinery.
One night Mumbo really fell into the thick of it. For hours he barely noticed the sun setting and turning the sky to an inky darkness, the air turning frigid with the night, or the way his eyes burned from exhaustion.
He just kept placing and wiring and working until the farm in his industrial district he had been working on was done. Only then did he stand up and stretch his sore back, groaning a bit at the way the joints popped, and check his neglected communicator.
Grian: Mumbo can you come by my place
Grian: Mumbo please I need you
Grian: Mumbo I’m sorry to bother you but I had the nightmare again I don’t want to be alone right now
Grian: dude please please please I can’t I dreamt of Sam again and I’m kind of freaking out
Grian: Mumbo
Grian: Mumbo please i don’t want to be alone
Mumbo’s jaw dropped at the influx of messages he had received from his best friend, his heart felling like it stopped. He gasped and jolted to respond when he noticed the frantic pleas for help had been sent about an hour and a half ago.
It wasn’t uncommon for Grian to do this, wake up paralyzed in fear or sobbing in grief over his less-than-ideal past, and Mumbo was the first person on the whole server he told about this issue. It became a system between them that Grian could text Mumbo at anytime for help if he needed it.
Except apparently he couldn’t, because Mumbo was too busy hyper fixated on his project to notice his friend needed help, the one thing he could do to pull Grian out of the darkness.
Mumbo Jumbo: oh my word Grian I’m so so sorry I was busy and I didn’t see these until now
Mumbo Jumbo: I can head over right now if you want me to
While typing that response, Mumbo was already pulling out some rockets and preparing his elytra to fly over to Grian’s mansion. He only paused when a buzz from the communicator indicated Grian had answered.
: no no it’s fine, i freaked out for a bit but it’s been a while and I think I’m fine now. I’m tired from all that so I’m probably gonna try and sleep some more
Grian: so yeah. Don’t bother.
Guilt wracked through Mumbo’s mind, echoing louder and louder, a million awful angry thoughts screaming at him.
It was his fault. He let Grian suffer alone. He couldn’t even put in the bare minimum amount of effort needed to help his closest friend when they needed it. What did that say about him as a person? What kind of garbage human was he?
At some point Mumbo managed to stumble while on weak legs, until he was leaning against a glass wall of the farm he had chosen to work on and care more about then Grian. He leaned against the smooth wall and slowly fell down until he was sitting on the cold, uncomfortable concrete floor with his long legs folded beneath him. Mumbo buried his head in his hands, at first only the occasional soft whimper escaping from his prone form, but that soon escalated until Mumbo was full on sobbing, whispering apologies to Grian that no one could hear.
When the morning came and Mumbo forced himself to face the day, the awful aching pain from being frozen in such an uncomfortable position that night felt deserved.
All he did was mess things up.
…
It was supposed to have been fun.
The base swap Mumbo had planned was supposed to have been enjoyable for all parties, a fun change in their day to day monotonous building and grinding. He had planned it all out so well, covering his tracks so he was sure no one could possibly ever know it was him, hyping up the change by forming the Bumbo Baggins society, and meticulously deciding who to switch with who so everyone got to experience something new.
It was supposed to have been fun.
How had he even managed to mess up that?
It took Keralis gently shaking his arm to snap him out of his spiraling, self-deprecation and head towards the ladders someone had put up on the walls around the room under his HCBBS device. As quietly as possible Mumbo crawled up and out of the small, crowded space, but his body was very much on autopilot. His mind was far away, still stuck on the image he had seen right before leaving- Ren, pale and shaking like a leaf, tear tracks running down his face which was twisted into an expression of such pain, hands clasped tightly over his ears, and Doc sitting beside him offering support.
Mumbo had done that to Ren. He had triggered Ren- happy Ren who definitely didn’t deserve all of that- like he had triggered Iskall. Why was he like this? What was wrong with him? How could he keep hurting everyone around him?
Once Mumbo was out of the smoking, destroyed remains of the bottom of the HCBBS countdown clock, he immediately fire up an elytra and headed to the Nether portal, ignoring the groups of Hermits forming and whispering about what just happened to Ren and particularly ignoring Grian, Iskall, and Scar calling out for him.
When he entered the scorching, sulfur-smelling Nether, Mumbo instinctually wanted to head home to his temple base, until he realized that the trade meant he technically didn’t own that base anymore and instead owned Scar’s. The details of the trade were fuzzy, especially because Mumbo definitely didn’t have the mental capacity to hash out any deals with Scar, so he decided to just sleep in his recently constructed Hobbit HQ that night.
Upon entering the cozy little food hall, the self-hatred began pounding against his skull harder and harder and harder. A whine escaped his throat as tears began blurring his vision. Mumbo’s hands came up to grab at his hair and yanked harshly at the thick strands clenched in his fists to escape the feeling of failure overwhelming him and threatening to drown him.
He should have warned the server for those with sensory issues, he should have helped out with Ren instead of running away like a little kid, he should have owned up and taken responsibility for his own stupid mistakes. He should have, he should have, should, should, should.
“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” he whimpered out to the empty room, cheeks wet with tears. “I keep messing up, I keep hurting them, I don’t know what I’m doing.”
He did know what he was doing through. He was failing at everything he ever tried to do right, he was failing at helping his friends, he was failing at being a Hermit.
All he did was mess things up.
…
The sorting system Mumbo was creating for his new base really was a monstrous contraption. Sure he had built similar sorting systems before, but those systems were for him, a humble redstoner that didn’t need large quantities of supplies. The amount of materials Scar had acquired throughout the season trumped any previous numbers Mumbo had worked with.
At least the massive amount of redstone work was familiar. It was formulaic. People were easy for Mumbo to mess around and screw up with, but redstone didn’t cause him the same amount of problems.
Until it did.
Mumbo wiped his sweaty brow off, panting slightly after a full day of working and wiring up the sorting system in the hot sun. He had redstone dust staining in splotches across his entire suit and covering his hands in a fine powder and also a mildly irritating sunburn across his pale face that Iskall was probably going to bully him for.
Speaking of Iskall and the other Hermits, Mumbo hadn’t checked the group chat all day in favour of focusing on his huge new project. Leaning against a row of double chests he had just installed to give his sore feet a much needed rest, he pulled open the screen of his communicator. His eyebrows raised at the many notifications he had missed.
…
GoodTimesWithScar: omg the area around my base is super laggy whyyyy
VintageBeef: you too? It’s glitchy af I keep crashing everytime I try to fly around my tree
Iskall85: you mean Iskall’s tree
VintageBeef: no, I’m not trading it back to you anytime soon
Iskall85: damnit!
Zedaph: haha same my elevator is now stuck on the upper floor off the mansion
Xisumavoid: I just got an update from the server. There’s been a huge lag spike in that area for some reason
Stressmonster101: “For some reason” just say it’s Mumbo, we get it
GoodTimesWithScar: oh yeah, he was working on this huge thing last time I flew over there that’s probably it
ImpulseSV: ahhhhh Mumbo all the redstone I put in around Stress base is crashing noooo
Grian: dammit Mumbo cmon
ZombieCleo: classic Mumbo breaking the entire server
Iskall85: *again lol
…
Again?
Again??
Again!
Again!
Of course he did it again, of course he inconvenienced and hurt everyone again, of course they were all mad at him and hated him again, because clearly that was all Mumbo ever did on the server.
Him and his stupid mechanical redstone, his stupid mechanical heart, his stupid mind, his stupid thoughts, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid stupid stupid.
God, he was so stupid!
Mumbo let out a short but guttural scream of frustration. The urge to rip his communicator off his wrist and smash it, along with everyone’s ugly, hateful opinions of him bubbled and boiled inside him, hot and angry. He was so sick and tired of constantly letting people down and making them hate him. He just wanted to do one thing right, was that so much to ask?
The outburst of anger and fear built up until Mumbo was physically shaking. He ended up reaching into his hair and yanking it, which had become a bit of a habit for him when he was stressed. The sharp pressure along his scalp didn’t help the flood of burning emotions he was fighting against, but it was at least a new point of focus.
Another buzz on his wrist reminded him that the group was still talking about him and how he ruined everything. He scowled, the intense feelings of shame within him manifesting as raging, seething disappointment for messing up so bad and time again.
…
Mumbo Jumbo: I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so so sorry
Mumbo Jumbo: I’m sorry I’m causing lag I’m sorry I keep messing everything up
Mumbo Jumbo: I’m sorry I keep hurting my friends, I’m sorry you all hate me so much (not that I blame you)
Mumbo Jumbo: I’m sorry I even joined the server considering I’ve only ever caused it problems
Mumbo Jumbo: I’m just really really sorry for everything. I’m always sorry
VintageBeef: …
ZombieCleo: woah dude
Iskall85: umm Mumbo it’s okay it’s not that deep
Xisumavoid: Mumbo that’s a bit concerning to hear. It’s all fine. I promise.
Grian: are you okay?
…
Was Mumbo okay? Here he was, getting extremely emotional over nothing and continuing to annoy his friends. Why had he even sent that, to rant about his own stupid feelings?
Breathe in, breathe out.
He stared down at his hands, still shaking and caked in redstone dust around the fingernails and knuckles. While he was staring, his vision went blurry and tears began falling onto his hands, wiping away the red stains.
Tears?
Oh, he was crying.
Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.
The hands went back up to his hair, scrambling to grasp more strands and pull even harder. He was trying desperately to hold back the sobs wracking through his body.
Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out.
The world was spinning, the field he was in tilting and whirling and collapsing around him. Everything felt too much all of the sudden, too overstimulating and painful. All of the awful things he had done over the past season flew through his mind, the memories of Doc lying injured and bleeding in a bed unconscious because of Mumbo’s cruelty, of Iskall tensing up and going so still and panicked because of Mumbo’s touch, of Grian alone at night freaking out from nightmares because of Mumbo’s negligence, and of Ren curled up in a ball crying and hurting because of Mumbo’s ignorance.
Breathe in breathe out breathe in breathe out.
The crying continued but the sobs lessened, if only a bit. This wasn’t necessarily a good thing seeing as they only seemed lessened because Mumbo was unable to take in a breath deep enough to properly cry. Intense waves of fear overcame him. His breathing was nothing but shallow hyperventilation that made his heart hammer out of his chest. Mumbo no longer felt the hands in his hair or the ground beneath his feet, the world was going numb.
Breatheinbreatheoutbreatheinbreatheout.
Everything was happening all at once, there was everything, there was nothing, the world was falling through his fingertips.
He felt like he was losing control.
He felt like he was going crazy.
He felt like he was dying.
….
Mumbo Jumbo: Blue creppeer
Mumbo Jumbo: something s wrong I can;t breathe
Grian: ???????
Iskall85: oh no oh my god
ZombieCleo: you’re hurt?
Xisumavoid: Quickly any of you in the jungle near his base, please go check on him, he should be where the lag was right outside Scar’s old base
GoodTimesWithScar: I’m going I’m going
Zedaph: same
VintageBeef: I’ll go too brb
Xisumavoid: Mumbo, can you tell me what’s wrong? Are you hurt anywhere?
Mumbo Jumbo: no? Yes? I can’t tell I’m shaking and I can’t catch my breathe and everything’s spinning
Mumbo Jumbo: i feel like I’m going to throw up what’s happening am I sick
Grian: oh Mumbo no I think you’re having a panic attack
Mumbo Jumbo: What no I dont’ get panic attacks I’ve never had one before
Iskall85: hey it’s okay, the others are coming to help you out, why don’t you just sit down and try to breathe until then
Mumbo Jumbo: okay okay okay
Mumbo Jumbo: this is so much worse than i ever thought I think I’m dying
Grian: shoot okay I know and I’m sorry you’re going through it I’m flying out there right now
Iskall85: me too. Architech bros assemble
Zedaph: yo me Scar and Beef just got here
Xisumavoid: Thank the Void. What’s going on?
Zedaph: umm okay so all of us flew up around the same time and he was having a really bad panic attack. He was really struggling to breathe and seemed pretty out of it like on the verge of passing out. He didn’t even realize we were here until Scar touched his arm
Zedaph: he was also pulling at his hair really hard and hurting himself so Scars sort of hugging him to get his hands away and Beefs talking him through a breathing excercise or something
Xisumavoid: Okay very good. Try and keep him calm until we get there.
Zedaph: will do
ImpulseSV: woah do you think we triggered it talking about the lag and stuff
Rendog: oof i just scrolled up that’s awful
xBCrafted: dude that’s his first ever panic attack. I can’t even imagine what he’s going through
Stressmonster101: oh poor Mumbo
Xisumavoid: Grian, Iskall, I’ve just arrived, and he’s not panicking as bad anymore but he’s still crying pretty hard. Once I think he can handle it, I want to take him back to my place, and we can meet up there to figure out what to do next.
Grian: okay agreed that sounds smart
Iskall85: down we’ll fly over there
iJevin: he’s not having the attack anymore?
Zedaph: no Beef managed to calm him down a lot
Ethoslab: Beef’s an icon confirmed
VintageBeef: thank man but god, now Mumbo’s just sobbing into X’s shoulder and saying sorry over and over again I feel so bad
XisumaVoid: Well, hopefully we can find out what happened to trigger the attack and if this does become a regular thing for him, we can help him deal with them in any way we can.
…
Grian’s wings were wrapped around Mumbo in a protective hold. The warm weight of the limbs and the many soft colourful feathers brushing against him, plus Iskall’s hand holding his in a steady grasp while sitting between the wings were doing wonders in helping him stay grounded in the present. Everytime the negative thoughts flooded back, the presence of his best friends would pull him away from the edge.
The three of them all sat in a hastily set up bed in Xisuma’s main storage tower in his base. Once Mumbo had calmed down enough where the admin was sure he wasn’t going to fall into another attack mid-flight, he slowly guided Mumbo to fly with him to the tower where Iskall and Grian were waiting. His fellow Architechs immediately pulled him into a hug. He was too tired to worry about whether they saw the tacky dried tear stains on his face and suit.
Xisuma was also there, standing just off to the side and patiently waiting for Mumbo to while the younger man grappled with what had just happened- the fact that he had had a panic attack. After years of helping Grian through his attacks and episodes, Mumbo had had one himself. It left him strangely dazed and desensitized, like he was desperately trying to float away from his body and those memories of the past hour, of feeling like he was losing his mind while hyperventilating alone before the others came.
“Hey Mumbo?” Iskall’s gentle, even voice cut through the fog. “Xisuma wants to know if you’re up to talk right now. No pressure. If you want to leave it for another day, that’s one-hundred percent okay.”
Mumbo thought about it for a moment and decided that anything was better then the silence in his head. “Sure,” he answered simply, scared and unsure in a way that made a frown appear on Iskall’s face and the wings hugging him tighten a bit as Grian leaned in closer to his friend.
Xisuma stepped forward and kneeled in front of Mumbo so they were making eye contact. The admin’s sparkling purple eyes were attentive and caring, paternal in a way Mumbo hadn’t experienced since he was an anxiety-ridden teenager first joining the server years ago.
“Hey Mumbo,” Xisuma began, steady where Mumbo was falling apart, “I know what you’ve just been through must have been a rough experience, and I’m so sorry for all of that. I’d usually try and take a bit of charge in a situation like this, but I feel it might be better to hear you out, so is there anything you want to talk about? Anything at all?”
And Mumbo so desperately didn’t want to make another mess for his friends to clean up or give them another reason on top of the many other ones to despise him, but it was so consistently exhausting to hold that fear of disappointing his family and constant self berating because of his mistakes inside. Grian’s feathers tickling against his cheek and Iskall’s thumb tracing the top of his hand made him want to be brave.
“Do you think I’m a burden- like, to the server and stuff?” Mumbo asked in a breathy whisper, barely able to muster up the courage to not curl into a ball and escape the eyes on him. “Does everyone hate me and wish I wasn’t here?”
Grian made a sound of protest and replied, “Oh Mumby, of course not. We all love you so so much, like you wouldn't even believe.”
That hit something in Mumbo, a part of his soul that had been yearning for so long to be reassured, to feel loved, to finally feel at peace. The sudden lump growing in his throat and the welling of tears in his eyes caught him off guard. He closed his eyes and bit his lip to try and create a dam to stop the inevitable flood of emotions
“Do you feel like that though?” Xisuma coaxed out of Mumbo. “Do you think everyone hates you?”
A childish whimper escaped Mumbo’s throat. He barely responded without bursting into tears. “Yeah… I do… I feel like I’m always apologizing for something or another, always hurting everyone, always messing stuff up. And I’m always so worried everyone hates me because of how much I ruin stuff. I can’t take the thought of you guys hating me… I love you so much, and I don’t want to let you down.”
Mumbo choked on his sobs as both Grian and Iskall quickly hugged him and shushed his gut-wrenching soft cries, streams of tears falling from his eyes.
“Dude, you could never let us down- never in a million years,” Iskall reassured, sounding devastated that Mumbo would even think such a thing.
Grian agreed, “We love you for you, mistakes and all. What you’re describing kind of sounds like RSD.”
The crying redstoner between them sniffled and tried to wipe his eyes. “RSD?”
“Yeah, Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria,” Grian explained. “A lot of neurodivergent people have it. I get it sometimes ‘cause of my ADHD. It’s when you’re really sensitive and have an extreme response if you think you’ve disappointed people in your life and you think that disappointment is going to make them hate you. It’s just that though: what you think. You perceive us all as disappointed and angry at you, but really no one thinks that. It’s just your mind going wild.”
Mumbo latched onto what Grian had just said and considered how it perfectly described why he was so sensitive to failure, why he always held himself to such high standards, and why his self-esteem seemed tied to the opinions of his friends.
“Wait, but I don’t have ADHD or autism or anything, I’m not neurodivergent.”
Iskall paused, thinking deeply on something, then responded, “Are you though? You sort of hyperfixate on things like redstone and the Hobbit stuff, you may have the RSD thing, you stim by pulling on your hair, and you have trouble remembering things like when meetings are or where you’ve left important stuff.”
Oh.
The world suddenly seemed clearer, like the last pieces of the puzzle had clicked into place. So many little things about Mumbo’s whole life suddenly made much more sense, so many times he had done things or thought things and wondered what was wrong with him because it wasn’t how everyone else acted or thought. It wasn’t ‘normal,’ but maybe because he was never ‘normal’ to begin with.
“I-I mean I guess,” Mumbo agreed, “So maybe I have ADHD or something? What does that mean though? What do I do with that information?”
Xisuma cleared his throat and started explaining calmly, “Ideally we get you in to see a psychologist and get a proper diagnosis. Then from there, it’s really up to you how you and your medical team how you proceed and what can be done to best help you however you need. And us as a server will also be here to support you anyway we can.”
While Xisuma was looking at Mumbo, the younger man felt like crying again at the warmth and affection in the admin’s eyes.
Xisuma continued, “I remember when you first joined the server almost a decade ago. You were this super young awkward lanky thing, so shy and full of nervous energy. You were so desperate to impress all of the adults in the server- and impress us you did. You constantly created redstone that blew us all away, you gained fame and success most people only dream of, you made friends and eventually a family, and along the way you’ve become a staple of this server, the heart of it all.
“Over the years I’ve watched you grow from that scared teenager I first met into a wonderful man, and I couldn’t be prouder of you. But you’re still so young Mumbo. You’re only twenty-five. You’re allowed to make mistakes and mess-up, because it’s from those mistakes that you’re going to grow for the better, and I personally can’t wait to see that growth. No one could ever hate you for that. We will love you through thick and thin.”
For a moment Mumbo just stared, wide-eyed at Xisuma before him. Then his face crumbled, and desperate but relieved sobs broke free from within him. When Xisuma opened his arms up for a hug, Mumbo didn’t hesitate to break free from Grian and Iskall to fall into the older man’s hold. Xisuma held him close, his gloved fingers running soothingly through Mumbo’s hair as he cried.
“I keep messing everything up dad,” Mumbo weeped without thinking. “I’ve done a million things wrong.”
On his part, Xisuma didn’t comment on what Mumbo had called him, just softly murmured to him, “And that’s all okay. You’re human, we make mistakes, but better days are coming, I promise you.”