Vanity

by BezierBallad

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Sad, Changelings, Original Character
Length: 1966

Every so often, Venom looks at himself in the mirror.

Every once in a while, Venom takes a moment or two to gaze in the mirror in his room, studying his reflection.

This is what he sees.

Published 2022-02-24 01:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2022-02-24 01:30:01 UTC

Reflection

This morning, I looked in the mirror.

I’ll admit, it’s been quite a while since I used it, judging from the many specks of dust that covered the glass surface. Not many changelings in this hive even use these things. If they were to use them, it would most likely be to practice shapeshifting and focusing on getting their disguises a hundred percent right.

After a few swipes of my hoof against the glass, my reflection immediately came into full view.

And so I appraised my appearance, the sapphire eyes of the changeling in the mirror steadily gazing back at me. I got my face all cleaned up from yesterday, so that was good. I turned my body to the side and lifted a foreleg, so I could study the many holes that rested within the dark gray chitin. I had also cleaned them out that same day, but I wanted to check if there was any dirt left behind. Alas, there was none. My wings and carapace looked completely fine, too.

I then ran a hoof through my mane a few times. It still had its bright and shiny blue color, and its neat, slick style and stature, but then I noticed how greasy it felt. That was when I realized something; I hadn’t applied any gel for the past five days!

I almost burst out laughing then and there. Stupid Venom. You really thought you could last that long without sliming your mane?

Side note, I actually found out changeling slime was good for changeling manes… or at least, for changelings who even had manes.

And so I quickly grabbed the jar that was resting on the stone table, opening it and dipping a hoof inside. I then scraped up a glob of the translucent green substance and applied it to my mane, rubbing it thoroughly. After a few minutes, it became more moist and shiny. There. Problem solved.

I gave my reflection a satisfied smile; my fangs looked nice, too. All of them perfectly straight, sharp and white.

I couldn’t stay there for long, though. I said I was going to meet up with a few friends in the hive, and I couldn’t keep them waiting. They really hate it when I do that.

That being said, I turned around and left the room.

When I got back about an hour later, I looked in the mirror.

Well, that was a complete waste; turns out that meetup was an excuse for them to pull their Ursa Major forms on me. They didn’t try anything, fortunately. Well, at least, other than scare the absolute living crap out of me.

They thought it was the funniest thing ever, too. I beg to differ.

…Ah well…

My mane still looked fine. That was some good news. Had I gotten any dirt in it, it would’ve taken a while to get it out. However, my face and leg holes were a different story.

It was nothing serious, actually. Just some splotches of dirt on my face and some twigs and leaves stuck in my leg holes.

Taking care of those things was effortless. Well, mostly the first one; I just grabbed a nearby rag before dipping it into a bowl of water and cleaning the stains off, wiping any excess water off with my hooves. I had a harder time with my leg holes though. Took about ten to twenty minutes to clean them out. Even then, I could’ve sworn there was still some dirt somewhere in there… shoot…

At least no one will notice, right?

In all honesty though, I’m pretty satisfied. I could always clean them out tomorrow though. For now, I’ll just maybe take a stroll around the hive for a while.

That late evening, I looked in the mirror.

I was actually going to return to my dorm a lot sooner, after I had gotten my daily love refill, but on my way back I had just ran into my group of friends again, and they seemed to be having quite a good time. So I thought, “why not?”

Anyway, I got back eventually. I was checking my face for any leftover stains of food; they had brought in a few campfire fish and even some blackberries from the woods. They were nearly gone by the time I got there, but they were still pretty good.

I had also cleaned up my hooves after I ate, so I knew I had already taken care of that. No signs of grease or juice on my chitin. I checked my leg holes. More empty than ever. Perfect.

My mane was kinda uneven, though. Mostly around the bangs and on the very back of my head. I was just about to fix those things so I could finally get some rest.

But then I saw something.

There was something nestled right there in my mane.

What the…? I leaned my head in closer to the mirror, trying to see what it actually was. My hoof prodded at the small clumps of sapphire mane stuck together. It was definitely something sticky. I eventually saw some splotches of dark purple juices bleeding from clusters of black bumps.

I was about to have a panic attack then and there, when I realized it was just a bunch of blackberries sitting in there, all smashed up.

For a moment, I honestly had no idea how they even got there. Then I sighed heavily.

Again? I thought as I grabbed a nearby rag, dipping it into a bowl of water and began relentlessly scrubbing at the clump, desperately trying to get it out of there. I swear, it feels like this happens nearly every single time they bring food with them.

“That’s why you’d look better if you just shaved your mane completely,” they’d usually say.

And I keep telling them, “But the queen of this entire flipping hive has a mane. One that goes past her neck. And you guys never say anything about it.”

They usually just keep talking and laughing like they didn’t even hear that.

But I know they’re just joking around. So, most of the time, I laugh along with them. Even when I don’t find it funny anymore.

When I woke up the very next day, I looked in the mirror.

I’m still thinking about the mane thing. Like I said earlier, it’s honestly not the first time some changeling smashed up their food into it.

It was the first thing I focused on when I approached my reflection once again.

I was just checking and seeing if I still had any of that berry juice still stuck in there. I really didn’t want to have to actually shave my mane…

I mean… does it really look that bad? I just don’t see it.

I quickly shook my head, reaching for the jar and unscrewing the lid off of it.

They’re just joking around and messing with me. They’ve been doing that for a while now. All changelings do it, really. I’ve seen the soldiers of the army do it. I’ve especially seen Pharynx do it. It practically runs in the hive.

I eventually finished applying the goo to my mane, straightening it out as much as I possibly could.

Now let’s see…

Mane looks fine, and so does everything else. Holes are cleaned, and not a speck of dirt on my chitin.

I couldn’t stay for long, though. My friends were expecting me again, and I told them I’d be there. Maybe this time they’d actually talk about something other than my mane.

That late afternoon, I looked in the mirror.

And I hated what I saw in there.

Damn it. I cursed in my mind as I glared at my reflection. My mane was a huge mess! It was all over the place and covered in dirt! What a waste of mane gel!

I sighed heavily, trying my best to calm down and not punch the mirror out of rage. I wouldn’t want them thinking I was just a whiny grub. I just needed to wash it out again, no big deal.

I had to take care of a few other things first; I grabbed the wet rag and started cleaning the blood off my hooves. The water stung a little, but it was only a little.

There were a few more bruises and scrapes, each of which I carefully dampened with the rag, hissing in pain once more.

I turned my body to the side; there was a small crack in my carapace, but I was going to have to see the medic for that one. It hurt whenever I moved my back too much, but it wasn’t too serious.

After a few more minutes, I finally started cleaning out the dirt in my mane, soaking it with water and then carefully applying the slime, making sure to get every inch and every strand of it.

I let out an exhausted yet satisfied sigh as I smiled at the glass.

There... I thought to myself. My lower lip was still bleeding a little, but it was only a little. It’ll stop eventually.

All better.

A few days later, I looked in the mirror.

I straightened out my mane as usual.

I looked down at my legs. They didn’t look as bad as yesterday, thankfully. Just a few scabs and dried-up scratches. I also visited the infirmary yesterday, and they gave me something to take care of the crack in my carapace. It was a bottle of a thick and sticky substance that resembled something like sap or syrup. The medic who worked there said to apply it at least once a day.

Not a problem. My eyes scanned the stone tabletop…

…now where was it?

I started sweating as my search for the bottle became more and more desperate. I thought I had placed it right there after coming back from the infirmary! I even put some of it on before I went to bed!

Just then, I suddenly heard a few voices just outside of the room, followed by the faint sound of what sounded like glass.

About four hours later… I looked in the mirror.

A single blue eye stared back at me. The other was covered by a thick, blue-checkered cloth that diagonally went around part of my head and absorbed the tears that trailed down my face.

I’m lucky I still have this other eye, honestly. It was just a bruise. Could’ve been worse…

I had another visit to the infirmary, though. The changeling medic said I needed to keep this on for at least a week or two. I obviously didn’t want to remove it anyway. I was too scared to.

I had finished applying the ointment to my carapace. I was also lucky the bottle didn't break and shatter then and there.

As I picked up the rag from the water bowl once again, I began dabbing it on my legs. As I was doing this, I stared at my reflection dead in the eye, which was still a bit puffy and moist. I wiped a free hoof across my face, gritting my teeth.

I was just wasting time.

I got up, holding my right eye and slowly walking over to the bed in the darkest corner of the room and laying down in it, still wiping my soaked face.

And so I laid there, huddling under the ragged bed sheets as much as I possibly could in case any changeling walked in.

I wouldn’t want them to see me like this. Maybe they would, but I wouldn’t.

The next morning, I looked in the mirror.

A complete and utter waste of space stared back at me.