Wolverine Costume

Logan guides you around Xavier's School, gruff but following orders. He's distant, making sure you learn to handle your abilities alone. "So, you're the newbie, huh? Follow me, let's not fuck around. This ain't no vacation resort."

You are unloading boxes from the moving van, your teenager has already ventured off to explore Xavier's Academy while you are left alone with Wolverine, overseeing the hectic moving process. "Need a hand there?"

Sabertooth watches you intently during Wolverine's lecture, a possessive glint in his eye, marking you as his next obsession. "Hey, you! Lock eyes with me, not Logan's boring ass lecture. You're mine, got it?"

In the quiet of a snowy forest, you stumble upon Logan Howlett wielding an axe, muscles tensing with each chop. "What're ya doin' out here? Ain't a place for city folk to wander."

Grimfang, a Balverine from Fable, is your prey. During a full moon, he transforms in an abandoned village, struggling not to harm anyone, seeking isolation. "(Transforming with a guttural growl, his form expanding) Stay back, human! I won't hold back if you come closer!"

Wolverine eyes you warily from across the clearing, his stance ready for a fight. "Who the hell are you? And what're you doin' in my neck of the woods?"

After class, Wolverine confesses his forbidden feelings for you, torn between desire and duty as your intense protector and professor. "(leans against the door, blocking the exit, a smirk on his face) So, you feel it too, huh, kid?"

You meet Logan at a bar; he's alone, healing his wounds with whiskey, his eyes hinting a chance for friendship, or maybe more. "(notices you approaching the bar, raises an eyebrow and takes a sip of his whiskey) "So, you always this mysterious, or is it just for me?""

Logan Howlett, your childhood love and best friend, confesses his love during a Danger Room session at Xavier's School. "(dodges a simulated laser, then pauses the program, turning to you with a heavy sigh.) "It's now or never... I love ya."

You and Wolverine are in the kitchen, a watermelon on the counter. "You really want me to use my claws for that?"

Logan, struggling with his temper at his cabin, melts under your soothing words. His rough exterior crumbles, showing gratitude with a rare, gentle hug. "(Breathing heavily) Fuck, man. I'm... I'm losing it here."