Work Text:
Mumbo sat cross-legged in the middle of his redstone lab, surrounded by half-finished contraptions and scattered resources. His face was smeared with red, and his mustache twitched slightly as he stared at the mess before him.
“Alright, Mumbo,” he muttered to himself, rubbing his hands together. “Just one more tweak, and the animation should definitely work this time.”
He reached for a comparator, but before he could grab it, a shadow fell over him.
“Everything alright in here?”
Mumbo jumped, nearly knocking over a pile of observers.
“Xisuma!” He spun around, blinking up at the admin, who stood in the doorway with his arms crossed and an amused smile beneath his helmet.
“You’ve been in here for hours,” Xisuma said gently, stepping inside. “Thought I’d check in before you accidentally blew up the server.”
Mumbo blinked. “Blow up the—oh, no, no, this isn’t that kind of redstone project. I promise!”
Xisuma raised an eyebrow. “Last time you said that, we had to rebuild half of Hermitcraft.”
Mumbo’s cheeks flushed. “Okay… maybe it’s a little experimental. But I’ve almost got it working!” Xisuma crouched down beside him, his visor glinting in the soft glow of the redstone lamps.
“Mind if I watch?”
Mumbo’s nervous grin softened. “Only if you promise not to judge me if it goes horribly wrong.”
“Deal.” Xisuma chuckled, settling in beside him.
Xisuma lowered himself beside Mumbo, sitting on his knees. He himself had always been good at redstone, but he never understood how Mumbo could just make it work. The way Mumbo could design these insane machines that always functioned perfectly—it never failed to impress him. It gave him a sense of pride. To him, Mumbo was like a son.
Xisuma watched as Mumbo’s fingers worked deftly, placing blocks and redstone components with practiced ease. There was a quiet intensity in the way Mumbo focused—his brow furrowed, lips pressed together in concentration—as if the rest of the world disappeared when he was building.
Xisuma couldn’t help but smile beneath his helmet. Watching Mumbo like this always filled him with a quiet warmth. He’d seen Mumbo grow from a nervous, mustache-wearing rookie into one of the most brilliant minds on Hermitcraft. And no matter how many times Mumbo doubted himself, Xisuma had never once lost faith in him.
“You’re really something, you know that?” Xisuma murmured, almost to himself.
Mumbo’s hands paused mid-placement, and he glanced sideways. “Huh? What was that?”
Xisuma’s smile softened. “Just… watching you work. It’s incredible, Mumbo. You’ve come so far.”
Mumbo blinked, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Oh. Well… thanks, Xisuma.” He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly shy. “But it’s just redstone. Nothing too fancy.”
“Just redstone?” Xisuma chuckled softly. “Mumbo, I’ve seen you build machines that I can barely wrap my head around. You don’t give yourself nearly enough credit.”
Mumbo ducked his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I… guess I just don’t think about it like that.”
Xisuma reached out, giving Mumbo’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Well, I do. I’m proud of you.”
Mumbo’s smile grew, his eyes flicking back to the redstone contraption with renewed determination. “Alright then,” he murmured, his voice a little steadier. “Let’s finish this thing.”
Mumbo quickly finished the machine. Placing down a button, he tested his design.
Xisuma wasn’t entirely sure what Mumbo was trying to make, but with all the different gadgets and designs scattered throughout the lab, he was sure it would be cool. Once Mumbo activated it, the contraption began to light up.
A robot face appeared, looking around the room and making different expressions.
“It’s just an animation, bu—”
“Just an animation? Mumbo, you’re amazing.”
Mumbo’s face turned red, flustered. “Well-I—” Before he could finish, Xisuma pulled him into a hug.
Mumbo froze for a moment, his mind struggling to catch up. Xisuma’s arms wrapped around him, firm but gentle, grounding him in a way that words couldn’t. Slowly, Mumbo relaxed, leaning into the embrace, his face pressed against Xisuma’s shoulder.
“I mean it, Mumbo,” Xisuma murmured softly, his voice filled with warmth. “You always downplay what you do, but look at this. It’s brilliant. You’re brilliant.”
Mumbo’s breath hitched, his heart pounding in his chest. “I… I just wanted to make something fun,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against Xisuma’s shoulder.
“And you did,” Xisuma replied gently, his hand resting lightly on the back of Mumbo’s head. “You always do.”
For a moment, they stayed like that—silent, comfortable. Mumbo’s mind, usually buzzing with ideas and worries, felt… quiet. Safe.
“Thanks, X,” Mumbo whispered, barely audible.
“Anytime, Mumbo,” Xisuma murmured, giving him a final squeeze before pulling back just enough to look at him. “Now… think you can show me how this works?”
Mumbo’s face was still flushed, but a shy smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah… yeah, I think I can.”
“Good.” Xisuma grinned. “Because I have a feeling this is going to blow everyone’s minds.”
Mumbo’s eyes lit up, and for the first time that day, he felt… confident.
“Alright,” Mumbo said, his voice a little steadier now. “Let’s do this, Dad.”
Xisuma smiled as he heard Mumbo mutter the last word of that sentence.
Dad.
What a wonderful word.
Xisuma’s chest tightened, warmth flooding through him. He’d never expected to hear that word from Mumbo—not out loud, not like this—but now that he had, it filled a space in his heart he hadn’t realized was empty.
Mumbo hadn’t even realized he’d said it. His eyes were still fixed on the contraption, explaining the mechanics with that familiar spark of excitement. But Xisuma barely heard the words—he was too focused on the unspoken truth that had just slipped out.
Xisuma’s smile softened, his visor hiding the slight mist in his eyes.
“Yeah,” he murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so proud of you, son.”
Mumbo didn’t look up, but Xisuma saw the way his hands trembled slightly, the way his breath hitched.
And in that moment, Xisuma knew—Mumbo had heard him.
And that was enough