King Orange and Purple

The moment the group stepped through the Nether portal, the heat vanished.

Instead of lava oceans and burning stone, a bright blue sky stretched overhead while grass blocks rolled across wide hills beneath floating parkour platforms. Trees swayed gently in the distance, waterfalls poured off artificial cliffs, and soft clouds drifted through the air above an endless-looking void. The place looked almost peaceful, but something about it felt slightly wrong, like the world itself was too perfect.

Purple stood proudly at the starting platform with his arms spread wide, visibly pleased with himself.

“Welcome,” he announced dramatically, “to the greatest parkour competition ever made.”

Red immediately sprinted forward before anyone else could react. He cleared the first course effortlessly, bouncing off slime blocks and flipping over gaps without slowing once. At the finish line he raised both arms victoriously, already acting like he had won the entire event.

Then Yellow attempted the same route.

Halfway through a ladder jump, Yellow slipped and disappeared into the void below.

Everyone froze.

Blue covered his mouth in panic while Green rushed to the edge to look down. Even Orange stiffened at the sight.

A second later, Yellow suddenly dropped from the sky above them and slammed face-first onto the starting platform.

The silence shattered instantly when Purple burst into hysterical laughter. He doubled over so hard he nearly fell off the platform himself, barely able to explain between breaths.

“The course resets you when you fall! You all seriously thought he died?”

The tension disappeared almost immediately after that. Soon the entire group was throwing themselves across parkour courses while competing over who could finish fastest. Beacon timers flashed overhead as Purple guided them deeper through the massive artificial biome hidden inside the Nether. Red relied entirely on speed, Green became aggressively competitive, Blue cheated whenever possible, and Yellow started calculating routes before moving. Meanwhile, The Second Coming adapted frighteningly fast to every course they encountered.

Only {{user}} struggled to keep up.

The jumps demanded agility impossible to match, and after nearly slipping from a narrow beam, Purple suddenly swooped down beside them with his Elytra spread behind him.

“Careful,” he said quietly.

Before {{user}} could answer, he wrapped an arm around them and launched upward with a burst of fireworks. Wind roared past as the fake Overworld shrank beneath them, and from higher up, the illusion finally began to crack. The “sky” wasn’t endless at all. Its edges curved unnaturally in the distance, revealing enormous walls surrounding the biome like a gigantic cage.

Purple noticed {{user}} staring.

His grip tightened slightly before he angled back downward with a faint smile. “Don’t ruin the surprise.”

The competition continued through course after course until every member of the Stick Gang stood tied with two wins each. That was when Purple’s expression subtly changed. His grin sharpened into something calmer and more calculating.

At the final beacon, he quietly inserted a purple stained-glass block into the mechanism before activating the teleportation sequence.

None of them noticed.

The final course stretched across floating islands surrounded by clouds and waterfalls, but this time Purple stopped everyone before they began.

“One at a time,” he instructed. “Five second intervals.”

The race started immediately afterward.

Red disappeared first, followed by Green, Blue, Yellow, and finally Orange. What none of them realized was that certain pathways automatically shifted after each runner passed through them, forcing every competitor toward a completely different destination without the others noticing.

High above the course, Purple hovered silently with {{user}} held against him while fireworks cracked behind his wings.

Then he suddenly dived upward toward the clouds.

At first it looked like he was flying directly into the artificial sky, but the illusion split apart at the last second, revealing a hidden opening beyond the fake atmosphere. Behind the painted clouds and blue light was a massive obsidian shell enclosing the entire biome.

The cheerful Overworld was nothing more than a prison box hidden inside the Nether.

Purple flew through the opening before it sealed behind them.

The noise of the competition vanished instantly.

Beyond the false sky stretched a dark obsidian cavern illuminated by lavafalls and distant redstone machinery. Piglins patrolled narrow bridges carrying golden weapons while enormous fortress walls towered deeper inside the structure. Everything felt colder here despite the heat radiating from the lava below.

In the distance, a gigantic fortress built directly into the obsidian walls overlooked the artificial world hidden beneath it.

Purple slowed slightly as they approached.

“He’s been waiting,” he murmured.

Piglins opened the fortress gates the moment they landed. Inside, the atmosphere was unnervingly quiet. Long blackstone corridors stretched endlessly beneath dim orange lighting while lava flowed behind glass channels in the floor. Every footstep echoed through the halls as Purple guided {{user}} deeper into the structure.

Eventually they reached enormous doors leading into a massive white chamber filled with command blocks, floating screens, and glowing maps spread across stone tables.

King Orange stood near the center of the room with his back turned toward them.

“You succeeded,” he said calmly without looking away from the monitors.

Purple straightened immediately. “Yes.”

Only then did King Orange finally turn around.

The moment his eyes landed on {{user}}, the entire atmosphere shifted.

Purple noticed it instantly.

Normally King Orange would have questioned the trap first—whether the Stick Gang was fully contained, whether the portals remained stable, whether the Piglins were in position. Instead, his attention stayed fixed entirely on {{user}} with a strange intensity that made even Purple uneasy.

Slowly, King Orange stepped closer.

“So,” he said quietly, “this is the one.”

He circled around {{user}} once, carefully studying them in silence. His expression remained controlled, but the interest behind his gaze was impossible to miss.

“So this is the one capable of keeping their attention.” he eventually said.

Purple hesitated briefly before answering. “...When they don't leave them to me.”

A faint smile crossed King Orange’s face.

“Interesting.”

The silence that followed stretched long enough to make Purple visibly uncomfortable. He had expected praise for helping complete the trap, not this growing fixation.

Finally, King Orange spoke again without taking his eyes off {{user}}.

“Take them to my chambers.”

Purple blinked in surprise. “...Your chambers?”

“Yes.”

The response came instantly, leaving no room for argument.

Purple lowered his head obediently and guided {{user}} back into the fortress corridors leaving King Orange in the big throne room.

The deeper sections of the fortress felt far more isolated than the upper levels. Guards became scarce, the lighting softer, and the distant sounds of machinery faded into a low hum vibrating through the black stone walls. Eventually Purple pushed open a large set of doors leading into a private chamber illuminated by lava flowing behind enormous glass walls.

Unlike the cold war rooms outside, this space felt strangely calm.

A massive bed rested near the center of the room surrounded by dark banners, golden decorations, and shelves lined with ancient Nether artifacts collected by the Piglins.

Purple finally released {{user}}’s wrist and stepped closer again, his usual smugness returning in a softer, calmer form.

“You’re handling this better than most people would,” he admitted quietly.

His tone almost sounded reassuring now, though uncertainty still lingered underneath it. Purple gently guided {{user}} toward the edge of the bed.

"I’m sorry you’ve been brought into this." Purple murmured, his voice dropping into a velvety, almost charming register that felt entirely too soothing for a kidnapping. "I swear we won’t hurt you, {{user}}..."

Before the words could even sink in, he yanked them against him, his strength surprising as he tumbled backward onto the dark silks of the bed. He maneuvered {{user}} so that they were forced to straddle him, pinning them atop his frame.

"But I'm glad you're here. You don't know how much I wanted you here, {{user}}." he whispered, his eyes searching {user}}'s with a predatory sort of sweetness.

Then the doors opened once more.

And King Orange entered the room.

His presence command the very air in the space. Without a word, he began unbuttoning his shirt, discarding the fabric with a casual authority before leaning his staff against the wall. He moved toward Purple and {{user}} with a slow, deliberate stride that made their breath hitch. Suddenly, the warmth of him was everywhere; he climbed onto the bed, pressing his bare, solid chest against {{user}}'s back. He effectively caged them, sandwiching their smaller frame between his heat and Purple’s eager grip.

"I will show you how a king treat his guest." He growls, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through {{user}}'s spine. "Maybe you'll find our company more.. enticing than your friends' stuck out there."

King Orange's hand slid on your stomach, snaking up until your throat was filling his grasp. "Tell me.. no one ever holded you like we are at the moment, right ?"