Chapter Text
it’s a bright, warm, early-summer morning when purpled teleports himself into the overworld. he’s under shade from some trees, but the light from the sun is still harsh compared to the lightless void he’s used to, and he hisses, scrunching his eyes closed and curling up against a tree trunk.
he doesn’t really know what just happened — he’s just barely at the age where he’s able to form memories, a healthy three years old — but little purpled has just teleported himself from the end, his home dimension, into the overworld. this isn’t an uncommon occurrence for young end hybrids, as there’s many ways to cause it; botched enderman teleportation, wandering into a portal, falling into the sweet spots in the void, the list goes on. in purpled’s case, he’d been messing around with his fledgling teleportation abilities (like any toddler with magic power would), and something had gone wrong, and he’d engaged in a bit of cross-dimensional travel.
his name isn’t purpled yet. in the end, he was given a name by the mother dragon, a special name in old ender that he’s not old enough to remember. for now, he’s just a boy; he scratches at his ankle where it’s being tickled by grass and whines as his eyes adjust to the light. then, he stands up and starts exploring.
“but what about the mobs” — don’t worry, he’ll probably be fine out here by himself. he’s always been told to stay with his flight, but it’s not like he retained that information very well. (or any information.) despite that, all children spawn into the world with some basic survival instincts drilled into them — early society wouldn’t have managed to get off the ground if the first spawned people weren’t able to survive past childhood, after all. purpled knows to run away or hide from unknown sounds, to eat not-nasty berries when he’s hungry, and to drink not-muddy water when he’s thirsty. he picks up a stick and carries it around with him, so if he comes across anything he could put up a fight with, they’ll think he’s scarier with his sharp stick and run away. even at this age, purpled is a pretty good survivalist, and he survives alone for two weeks, turning a tree hollow into his bed at night and when it rains.
surviving isn’t the same as living well, though, so it’s for the better that on the dawn of his sixteenth day in the overworld, he wakes up to the sound of things moving through the forest. he peeks out of his little tree hole, hoping it isn’t a mob using the sun as protection to search for early-morning prey.
the bushes rustle, and purpled watches as two men emerge from the shrubbery. the one in the lead has dirt brown hair and dirty muddy shoes, staring at something in his hand as his mouth twists into a small frown. the one behind him has his head buried in a paper, only showing a head of umber hair.
“i told you we were lost,” the one in the back says.
“it’s fine,” the one in the front insists, “this forest isn’t too big. as long as we follow the compass in one direction, we’ll get out eventually, and then we can get our bearings.”
“as long as our bearings aren’t on the opposite side of the county.”
purpled leans forward, intrigued. he leans maybe a little too quickly, though, and overcorrects in his attempt to catch himself from falling, making a bit of noise in the process. he thinks for a moment that maybe the shadows will stop the men from seeing him, but he knows his hair is a very light blond, so he’s probably visible anyway. (and besides, he wants to talk to them. he’s on guard, but his instincts tell him to seek others, find strength in numbers.)
they stop and stare for a moment. “is that a child?” the ginger one stage-whispers.
the brown-haired one pays his friend no mind, still looking at purpled. after a moment, he seems to make his mind up about something, and starts marching right over to purpled’s little tree hollow. purpled, for his part, doesn’t startle at the movement, but he does hiss from the back of his throat, an instinctual warning noise. the man pays it no mind, just approaches and crouches in front of purpled’s tree hollow so they’re eye to eye.
“hiya,” he says.
purpled stares back.
“not much of a talker, then,” the guy says.
this is where it starts: a forest, a meeting.
-
the man’s name is lukas, and he has short hair and pale blue eyes that purpled can look at for a long time and calloused hands and strong arms and he’s very nice. purpled’s instincts are a little crazy for a couple days as he gets settled, but lukas is patient and purpled realizes very quickly that he doesn’t have any ulterior motives.
he was supposed to take purpled to the orphanage, but it had been late evening by the time they got back to town, along other reasons that sounded a lot like excuses. so purpled had reluctantly settled down on the floor in lukas’s room to sleep that night, and it was much more comfortable than the tree hollow, and when he woke up he wasn’t dead or injured and nevan made a very good breakfast and purpled ended up staying for a couple more days. (nevan was the person lukas was with. he has dark warm-toned hair and orangey eyes and he’s louder than lukas is, but still nice. he’s stronger, too, and gives purpled piggyback rides.) after his third breakfast in lukas’s house, purpled sits and watches as he and nevan discuss what to do with him.
“i’m guessing taking him to the orpho is a pipe dream, now,” nevan says.
“i’m not saying i wouldn’t,” lukas replies, “i just—”
“you just don’t want to because you let him into our house and now you’re attached, i know.” nevan flashes a smile at purpled as he takes his empty plate and puts it in the sink. “i think we already know he’s not from the overworld, so you’ve got free reign on the thing, y’know.”
“i know,” lukas sighs out a laugh. he puts away the pancake batter in a tall cupboard, then turns to purpled. he sits on a stool so he’s closer to purpled’s eye level; purpled looks at his nose. “i think the most important part of this equation is you, kiddo. do you know what nevan and i are talking about?”
purpled isn’t much of a talker, but more because he prefers not to than because he doesn’t know words. it also means he listens more, and over the last couple days, he thinks he knows what the two adults have been talking about. “you wanna keep me?”
“right on the money!” nevan says from the sink.
“yeah,” lukas says. his face is carefully neutral. “i was going to take you to the orphanage where all of the kids without families go, because the one you were with before can’t find you anymore. but then i thought, i like you a lot, and i want to be your family. does that sound okay? — but you can still go to the orphanage and find a new family, if you want.”
purpled, admittedly, does not think over his options very much. he’s a toddler, and he doesn’t think lukas is bad, and the man looks hopeful, and purpled quite likes that he can sleep in a little nest in the corner of the bedroom floor. lukas reminds him of the blurry, vague memories he has of people carrying him around and talking to him before he fell into the forest.
so he nods and says, “okay,” and lukas’s face breaks out into a smile. his eyes scrunch up at the bottom.
“you’re in charge of naming him, too, don’t forget,” nevan says, leaning against the island and resting his chin in one hand. they had learned upon finding purpled that he didn’t have a name, at least not one that he could remember, and had simply taken to calling him ‘kiddo.’ “that’s the real challenge.” he has a way of talking to lukas, in particular, that purpled will later learn is lighthearted teasing.
“let’s get that over with right now, then,” lukas hums. “you want a name, kiddo?”
purpled nods.
“alright. how about…”
“littleman,” nevan interrupts. “squirt. blondie. justin. pipsqueak. macaroni. muddyshoes.”
“shut up,” lukas laughs while purpled scrunches his nose up at the suggestions. he makes a show out of looking purpled up and down, even spinning him around on the stool like he’s getting appraised. “what about violet?”
“because of his eyes?”
“yeah. i’ve never seen such bright purple eyes before.”
purple sounds better than violet, so purpled tries to say it back, but it gets a little messed up on its way out his mouth. “purpled.” nailed it.
“are you saying that because you like it for a name, or just because you wanted to say it?” lukas asks.
the toddler ponders this for a moment before replying: “yes.” (nevan cackles.)
“purpled,” lukas tries. “purpled. i think we could work with that.”
this is where it starts: a house, a name.
-
before lukas can be properly served the adoption papers, purpled has to be properly registered as a citizen of hypixel. which, among other things, means he needs to go see a doctor. the lights in the waiting room are very bright against purpled’s eyes, so he spends most of the wait curled up eyes closed in lukas’s lap. lukas is nice enough to carry him to the back, too, but purpled gets put down once they get there. there’s crinkly paper under him that sounds weird when he fidgets, but it’s not an unwelcome noise like the sound of the automatic doors in the waiting room was. the walls are gray and sound seems to get dampened somehow, making purpled wish there was something more to look at or do before he goes crazy.
“getting ready for adoption, are we?” the doctor asks.
“almost there,” lukas replies. “just a home inspection and another meeting after this, and then we’ll be good to go.”
“that’s great! let’s get started then. what’s his name?”
“purpled. he isn’t much of a talker, yet.”
“that's just fine. hi, purpled. i’m gonna check a few things and poke around a little to make sure you’re nice and healthy, okay?” purpled nods, and she goes back to addressing lukas. “do you know if he’s human or not already?”
“no. can you check for that?”
“i can do a pediatric hybrid check while i’m checking everything else, yes. should we get started?”
the doctor proceeds to, true to her word, poke around a little. purpled gets his knees hit with a tiny hammer, a light shone in his eyes, a thermometer across his forehead, and his blood pressure and heart rate checked. he also has to get up to get his height and weight checked. at the very end, she checks a few random things; she measures and looks at his arms and legs, shines different tools in his eyes and ears, looks at and pats down his hair and back and legs, and has him hold a little device until the numbers on it stop moving around.
“well, he’s not human,” the doctor reports after she records everything. “he doesn’t have any grown traits, and he isn’t showing enough early signs to know exactly what, but my sights are on either avian or enderman. i think i’ll want to draw another blood sample to send in for the hybrid test on top of the standard ones…”
the adults keep talking, but purpled loses interest in the conversation rather quickly once the words start going over his head. he tears a piece of the crinkle paper off of the end and fiddles with it, folding it as many times as he can before unfolding it and doing it backwards.
before they can leave, they have to get purpled’s blood drawn and his first round of immunizations, which, purpled being a toddler, ends in absolute disaster. lukas and nevan team up to make him feel better, and between piggyback rides and silly conversation and food, purpled ends up forgetting about it by bedtime. the next week, he and lukas will go to the courthouse to finalize the adoption process, and when they return home, nevan will have decorated the living room for a surprise party.
“you didn’t have to do this,” lukas will say, giving nevan a side hug with the arm not holding purpled’s hand.
“you can’t tell me what to do,” nevan will say before turning to the toddler and stage-whispering: “and believe me, he’s tried before.”
“an unstoppable force of nature, you are.”
“and don’t forget it!” nevan’s face will soften into a fond smile that purpled will learn is reserved for lukas alone. “congratulations on becoming a dad, man. you’re going to do great.”
“whew, yeah. thanks.”
“and congrats to you on getting adopted, pipsqueak! you’re in for a wild ride.”
this is where it starts: a celebration, a family.