Okay so King Orange my beloved, I ended up writing some stuff for him post-season three (no spoilers for season four) and this ended up happening.
Looking into the mirror, Mango can't help but wince.
To put it simply, he looked like shit.
It wouldn't have been hard to mistake the bags under his eyes for bruises. His hair had gotten longer than his shoulders - when did that happen? - and was rather unkept. Hell, he'd even grown a bit of a stubble. He looks disheveled, exhausted, which was really how he felt at the moment, despite knowing he must've been sleeping for well over twelve hours after getting home.
He'd never cared too much about his appearance, despite all the dressy shirts and that crown he'd take to wearing. It was still nice to look neat though, and he certainly wasn't doing that. He was glad to be back in one of his old sweaters though. He'd almost forgotten how comfortable they were, especially after a long day.
He reaches for the brush and starts working to get the tangles out. It snags quite a few times, no surprise there, but it's nothing he can't manage. He watches himself in the mirror and lets his mind wander.
Being in the house after- after that night was like trying to put his own hand through a wood chipper. It was too quiet, too empty, so big and yet suffocating. He'd spent that first night in Gold's room, laying on the bed, holding one of his son's old toys as if he could pretend that everything had been one horrific nightmare, that he would wake up and Gold would be fine. After that first night, when he'd chosen to bury his grief in revenge, he'd closed the door and avoided the room entirely.
But the room isn't empty now. No, instead, lying on his son's old bed, underneath his old blankets, is a new child. He's around Gold's age and definitely shares some of his mannerisms, but Purple could never replace Gold. Nothing could ever replace Gold.
Mango isn't looking for a replacement, though. Purple isn't Gold, but he's something else. Someone else, who deserves the same love and care that his son deserved. Mango knows that he didn't treat Purple as he should have. Mango knows that, because of him, Purple damn near died.
The same hateful, vengeful part of him that had lashed out at the world now reflects back at himself, like a blade once held to fight now turned inwards. It makes him want to cover his ears and block it all out, to slam his fist into the mirror until glass slices his skin. He doesn't, though.
He won't deny the fact that he hurt Purple, or any of the others. He won't deny the fact that he almost killed so many, that he had killed many, before his reign was out to an end. But he will not let that hateful, vengeful voice in his head deny himself the chance to change. Purple and the other kids had put their trust in him to be better. He would not disappoint them.
Once the brush runs smoothly, he sets it to the side and trades it for a pair of scissors. He uses his other hand to pick up a strand and hold it up. He really did not mean for it to get this long, but he didn't exactly hate it. He drops the piece of hair to run his hand over his face, and huffs. Yeah, that's got to go, but he could deal with that later. He eyes his hair once again, raises the scissors, and snips.
He doesn't cut off too much. He's not sure he'd be able to without botching it completely. But he cuts away split ends and damaged pieces, letting them fall onto the dresser below. When he's finished, he finds that he looks…decent. Still a bit disheveled, but nowhere near where he was when he started.
He fumbles through his drawers to find himself a hair tie and then spends a few minutes more deciding what to do with it. In the end, he decides on a simple, loose braid that falls over his shoulder. He'd braided part of Gold’s hair once. It wasn't long enough to braid the whole thing, but it looked good, and Gold had liked it well enough.
He wonders if Purple would ever let Mango try it on him.
He finishes the braid and watches himself in the mirror. His reflection watches him back.
He thinks back on the Nether, on those mobs, those piglin brutes he killed and had to revive. He thinks back on those children who fought so valiantly to stop him, who spared him even in the face of what he'd done. He thinks about Purple. About the fact that he stayed with Mango, despite the hurt he had caused.
He glances away from the mirror when he hears a door opening. It sounds like Purple had woken up, too. He looks back at his reflection and smiles. His reflection smiles back.
He steps away to go greet his child.
