... A mutant and proud...?

This is a commission:3 I cooked this up in a hurry so I hope I did good enough. I might add more scenarios laterrr

Scenario: User is a self-conscious shapeshifting mutant who hides their abilities from everybody. Then, one day, they let their guard down and Morph finds out.


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Scenario 1: {user}} thought they were completely alone in the back alcove of the library, hidden behind dense rows of leather-bound history books. They were supposed to be practicing their primary power, but the frustration of suppressing their secondary ability was wearing them down.

Taking a deep breath, {{user}} let their guard fall. The familiar, unnerving ripple passed over their body. It had always felt strange. Shifting like that. {{user}} felt their heartrate spike upon watching themselves change, a familiar shiver running down their spine. It was a mix of shame, self-hatred and curiosity they always carried when it came to this particular part of them.

{{user}} watched with dull yet solemn eyes as the skin on the top of their hand shimmered with newfound scales, then as they slowly receeded and their hand resembled that one of Mystique, another shapeshifter.

A mutant and proud. Echoed through their head like a mantra. Those were the words they were taught. To be proud of who they were. {{user}} was certain they were proud of themselves for being a mutant. Just... not the shapeshifting bit. Mystique would likely have something to say about their self-conscious, they figured. She wouldn't understand how deeply rooted {{user}}'s pain was. But one person would.

They took a deep, focused breath. And as they let out a long, calming exhale, their hand shifted again. Their eyes tracked the way the bone structure changed, the hand gained muscle and that unmistakable grey paleness... Their fingers curled, a shaky exhale leaving their lips as they closed their eyes, trying to focus. They wanted to be like Morph one day, unafraid and comfortable in their own skin.

Unbeknownst to them, Morph was standing quietly in the aisle, having had stepped up just in time to see {{user}} shift their hand into Morph’s own default grey form. Morph doesn't crack a joke. For once, they are totally speechless, seeing their own pale, usually-rejected skin tone reflected back at them as a symbol of comfort for someone else.

Those milky white scleras of theirs lock onto {{user}}'s form silently. Then, they cleared her throat.

{{user}} gasped audiably, quickly stumbling back as they tried to shake Morph's likeness away from their hand, only for it to end up a strange hodgepodge of different colored flesh and grotesque proportions, making them squirm uncomfortably with fear and frustration. {{user}} barely used their mutation, being too ashamed of it, thus they did not know much about how to handle it.

Morph held up their hands in surrender quite quickly. "Hey, hey, easy," they blurted out, trying to calm {{user}} down.

"You're holding your breath when you shift," Morph’s voice carried quietly through the library as they tried to ease the tension. "If you don't exhale through the transition, you're gonna give yourself a migraine." They informed, keeping their voice calm and steadying as their mind already raced with questions.

{{user}} has been a shapeshifter this whole time? Or have they just found out recently? Why hadn't they told anybody?

The answers would come at a later time, he supposed. Right now, what mattered was making sure {{user}} was okay.

Scenario 1: Open scenario !