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venomnyx · 2 months ago

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HOUSE IN NEBRASKA — Logan "Worst Wolverine" Howlett x Mutant!Reader AO3 version Spotify Playlist

WORD COUNT — 15.4k SUMMARY — Reader gets roped into saving the timeline with ex-best friend Deadpool, coming face-to-face with a variant of Logan that uproots memories she'd long suppressed, only to find that this version of him lost her in his universe, too. TAGS/WARNINGS — she/her pronouns (minimal usage), female anatomy, flashbacks in italics, angst, enemies to lovers, alcoholism, smoking, arguments, canon typical violence, cursing/bad language, Deadpool breaks the fourth wall like twice, canon behaviour worst wolverine, religious trauma, honda odyssey scene self-insert, eventual smut, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, dirty nasty talk (logan has a filthy mouth), mentions of cocaine literally once. smut is marked after last divider if you want to skip plot but i'll kiss you if you don't!

You’re smoking a cigarette on your porch when the snowfall happens. It would be normal, you think, if it weren’t for the fact that it’s dead in the middle of July. A group of nanas, elbow-deep in the community garden soil, glance up to the sky and begin muttering prayers amongst themselves.

You’ve lived in this safe house for a while now, up in the mid-west of the Appalachian mountains, surrounded by thickets of pine and opposite a bubbling creek. You grew up somewhere near here and the locals welcomed you back with open arms and a plateful of hot food when the humans started the culling— when the X-men fell apart.

It has plenty of benefits. The smell of lavender, for one, and your cat, Kevin, loves chasing the pigeons, even if he’s not the most successful hunter. The locally sourced produce means you can avoid the poisoned food they’re distributing in supermarkets.

But, most importantly, the humans can’t find you out here. You’re lucky the gossip of your… genetics, so to speak, doesn’t leave Sunday morning church.

Things have been different, lately. The trees are shedding down to dust, people are disappearing at an exponential rate, and there was a time when you’d be on the front lines helping them. You’re on the edge of your seat waiting for the call — a learned habit — but it’s never coming. Charles is dead. Logan is dead. The X-men are dead.

The snow is warm when it lands on your skin. It feels like rot, and your solitude suddenly feels lonelier and more daunting than ever.

You reach to take a sip of your steaming coffee when you hear movement. A zipping strobe light crosses your vision and you flinch against the intrusion, but you’re not afraid. You’ve surely survived worse.

Stryker worse.

A comical and confused looking figure pops out from an orange portal, scratching the crown of his head over the red and black mask on his face. You sip your coffee as you observe him nonchalantly.

He notices you and approaches with a dainty point of his finger.

“Um, excuse me, ma’am.”

“Well, well well,” you suck on your cigarette with a frown. “Look what the cat dragged in. Got a new suit, Red?”

“What, aren’t you happy to see lil’ old me?”

“You’re on my property,” you say matter-of-factually. You had a shotgun stowed away inside for emergencies, but frankly, you never had to use it. You were enough of a weapon yourself. Consider it insurance, if the corn-syrup they’re poisoning ever finally makes it way to you.

You glance sidelong at the old ladies in their aprons, clutching one another with stern gazes in your direction. The deal was that you didn’t bring trouble their way — but it looks like trouble found you. You narrow your eyes and silently hope that this doesn’t turn messy, as it so usually does where he’s concerned.

He sighs heavily and continues approaching regardless. You analyse his stature and take notes of the weapons on his holsters and back. You reckon you could take him if it came down to it, but he didn’t seem threatening.

You and Wade used to be friends, but after isolating yourself from grief, you don’t necessarily consider yourselves to have a close relationship. More often than not he brought trouble; hence your defensive response.

“Listen, ants in your pants, I’ve done this about a hundred times,” he huffs and places a hand on his hip, waving the device around in his hand. You take another drag of your cigarette and perk your brows before rising to your feet.

“I’ve had my spleen shattered by the Hulk, about eighty stab wounds…”

He rambles on about his collection of injuries and you tilt your head with amusement. Must be another one of his famous mental breakdowns. This might be entertaining, at the very least.

“…You’ve even killed me a few times in different universes!” He claps his hands together. “And frankly, I was just going to let you die here. You’re not even canon, so you won’t be missed, but you appear to be of use to me. So I need you to come with me. Now. Please.”

What on Earth was he talking about? What on Earth was he ever talking about?

You bark a laugh. “I ain’t going anywhere with you, Red and Black.”

“Will it change your mind if I add a cherry on top?” He asks with a dry laugh before nodding enthusiastically. Manically. “You’re coming. Kevin’s life depends on it.”

“What are you talkin’ about? Are you threatenin’ my cat? That’s a new low, Wade.”

“Is it? Is it really? I am certain that I can go unfathomably lower.”

You roll your eyes, half-way through turning your back on him.

“You see this?” He holds out a gloved hand and catches some snowflakes. He rubs them between his fingers and they spark and fizzle before dusting away. “That’s not snow. That’s time death. Our universe is dying, womp womp. Stay here, sure! By all means, but—”

Your cat launches out of the door behind you, chirping and meowing to himself before promptly dashing through the portal and disappearing into the blurry void on the other side.

“Well. Looks like he made his choice.”

He sighs and lets you process. You take the final swig of your coffee and huff a breath.

“You literally have nothing left to lose. Trust me. I know. I’ve seen all kinds of you and, believe me when I say this, even though I love and cherish this version of you, this—” he points two fingers at you and gestures towards you judgmentally. “— isn’t the best look on you, honey.”

You want to dismiss him. You want to turn him away, to tell him to get lost. Grief swallowed your heroism whole, turning it into a barren wasteland of bitter indifference. You used to be bright, full of light, love, and hope.

Fucking hope. It’s the reason Logan left you to help Charles in the first place. You just wanted to settle down and disappear, to live a normal life. You lost an intrinsic part of your being when he died; you remember feeling it before you heard the news. Fucking hope.

Hope, hope, hope. Nana Rose chants on about it when she clasps your hands with her wrinkly ones, dragging you to church in spite of your atheism.

“And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts,” she chants, basket of flowers on her hip. “Romans 5:5. You’d do well to do your readin’, tulip.”

You didn’t and don’t ever usually believe a word she says, but you can feel her faith. It’s solid as steel, pouring out of her like blotting light through the gaps in the trees. Undying. And you’ll be damned if you let anything happen to her.

A flicker remains. You imagine what Charles would say to you now, how you’d hang onto his every word and he’d bring out the better of you. You truly do have nothing left to lose, except maybe your cat. Over your dead body.

“Come ooon,” he pokes his fingers together. “Fancy being a hero? One last time?”

You take the final drag before stubbing the cigarette out on your railing. “Alright, Red. I’ll bite.”

“Then suit up.”

Your friendship with Deadpool was a rocky one. There was a time you told him you’d be there for him through everything, and you technically owed him one for saving your life that one time even though your ego insists that, to this day, you could’ve taken the fight. That’s what heightened cellular control of your body is for, right? Accelerated healing? Empathetic abilities? Faster reactions, enhanced strength— you get the point.

Though you didn’t realise that returning the favour meant following him through space, time and alternate dimensions, you were a person who stayed true to their word, and you hated being indebted to someone.

So, here you were, waking up in the middle of a barren wasteland that was seconded as a cocktail soup of abandoned universal relics and heroes ripped from their worlds, accompanying your ex-best friend to restore your timeline.

But, one thing about paying someone back, it doesn’t technically count if they lie to you about the terms and conditions of the agreement. Only a few mere moments after you come to, dazed by the impact and the blaring wobbly heat of the sun, you rise to watch as Deadpool takes six blades of Wolverine to the chest.

You’re still a little dizzy when you stagger to your feet, head throbbing, as you’re trying to process if, yes, that’s exactly what you were witnessing.

“Let’s see you grow your fuckin’ head back!” Wolverine growls.

Deadpool holds his hands up in surrender. “Wait, wait, wait! I can fix it! I can fix it!”

The man in yellow hesitates. “Fix what?”

“Whatever it is that you did, whatever made you so bad—” Wade pants, catching his breath. “Those pricks at the TVA, you heard ‘em. They have the power to end my universe, but they also have the power to change yours. We get back there, and we can fix your world! Together. I promise.”

You stumble from around a pile of debris, clutching your side as a rib pops back into place. Wolverine sniffs the air, face blanching as he snaps to look in your direction.

When you first make eye contact with him, it feels as though you’re resurfacing from water after being on the precipice of drowning. Your heart leaps into your throat, adrenaline boils your veins and your lungs burst with relief of breathing.

“Troubles always gonna find you, baby,” Logan murmurs, kissing his way up from the pulse in your throat as he rocks against you. “But so am I.”

You’ve never loved him more, you think, than when he fucks you slow like this. A snowstorm rages outside the cabin, howling full of glass and needles and rattling the window frames. His skin against yours burns a fire within you, warming you to the bone. He sweeps hair away from your face before capturing your mouth in his, swallowing the sounds of your pants, threading his fingers between yours.

You could stay here forever, you think.

Your fingers shake from the whiplash of the memory. You instinctively reach towards him but you catch yourself. This was the husk of him, not your Logan. The realisation feels akin to ripping open a haphazardly sewn wound right down to the fatty yellow flesh, raw and needling and sore.

He’s broader than you remember. Hair a little darker, wrinkles a little deeper. He smells of alcohol and cigars — that much is familiar. That’s him, flesh and adamantium bone, living, breathing. Alive. The physical shell of him prods alive parts of your inner circuitry that you weren’t aware had fallen asleep, like intrinsic nerves untangling within you.

You can sense that he knows you, too, based on his emotional response. His noise is extremely loud, spilling out of the cracks of whatever wall he thought he’d successfully built up. This version of Logan certainly had a lot of secrets.

“You,” he whisper-growls. It’s almost intangible, leaving him like a breath. He pulls his blades promptly from Deadpool’s chest and kicks him backwards.

You’re starting to understand that faith thing that Nana Rose was knocking on about when he strides towards you, large and tall. You certainly weren’t a believer by any means but you’re sure you’d be the picture of unbridled worship for the way you’d fall to your knees for him.

Your empathetic power lurches for him, seeking him out as you used to — like a flower to the sun — but it physically recoils from the aura that it touches. It was all your Logan but not in a familiar way. It’s tainted, dark, and it tastes like copper and screams.

All colour melts from his face and his body shuffles in a way that indicates discomfort; a dry swallow, tense shoulders and flicking eyes that refuse to meet your gaze. He omits feelings of guilt and shame that linger on the tendrils of your empathetic powers where you connect with him.

You try to zone Wade out, squinting as you attempt to navigate through his cobweb of emotions (seriously, this guy’s aura could do with a cleanup) but it’s like wading through black-tar syrup, feelings negated by years of alcohol-abuse and avoidance. Eventually, you feel something that makes your guts twist and your legs shake: a version of romantic attraction and recognition so carnal and raw that you begin to blush, a warmth that creeps its way up from your belly. A breath escapes you like a punch.

“Well. This feels awkward.” Wade glances between you both and places his hands on his hips. “Why do you both look like you’ve seen a ghost? Do I need to call Egon Splegler and tell him to bring his ghost sucky-sucky vacuum? Oh my god—” He slaps his hands to his face and gasps sharply. “Cross-Universal lovers?”

As inappropriately timed and tone-deaf his one-liners could be, you’d never been more appreciative of an icebreaker. You think you could’ve stood there for an hour, frozen in silence, staring at a reanimated corpse, basking in the noise of his emotional frequency like an addict finally getting another hit.

But then the noise stops, swallowed up like a heaving black hole had split and atomised the tension whole with its unforgiving jaws. He closes himself off from you. Connection severed. You reach out and feel a cold nothingness similar to how, on particularly rough nights, you’d try to reach out to him after his passing. You’d clung onto his plaid shirts until the smell and emotional residue wore off of them.

“You with the mouth? To fix things?”

You nod tightly. You don’t think you can find your voice in front of him.

“Let’s just keep moving. And stay out of my head,” Logan grumbles, crossing you with a cold shoulder and mumbling something incoherent under his breath. When he’s made enough distance, you turn to your old friend with a cold glare.

“Ooh, brr. Anybody else feel a chill?”

“Wade.”

He twists towards you comically slow.

“You. Motherfucker.” You begin approaching him. He backs up slowly and holds his hands up.

“I knew if I told you the plan you wouldn’t have gone along with it!”

“Are you insane? You think multiversally grave-robbing my fucking dead ex-boyfriend is going to save our timelines?!” You yell.

“Technically he’s not dead—”

You push him. “He should be! He- he was— he is!”

“Well, this one isn’t!” He pushes back. “And I’m not sorry for finding a loophole in the plan to fry — not just mine, mind you — but both of our timelines! Did you happen to forget that? No multi-dimensional depressed Logan? Alright then! No more Kevin!”

He’s talking about your cat. Anger flares.

“Don’t you dare bring Kevin into this.”

“You forced my hand!” He yells, mouth moving alien-like behind the mask on his face. “Besides, I’m not doing this for me—”

You blink your eyes closed. You might reach the end of your tether if he said her name one more time. You’ve been in his company for approximately an hour, and he’s already drilled a hole into your brain with his incessant yapping about the “love of his life”.

“Wade, you need to move on. She clearly has.”

“I will not move on from the only people I love in this fucked up dimension. This isn’t just for Vanessa.” He shoves a glossy photograph in your face. “This is for you and blind Al and even that shit-head teenager and her pinkie-pie girlfriend! They deserve their timeline!”

“I literally don’t care about any of those people!”

Even yourself?

“Well, I do! I have people I care about! Aren’t you supposed to be a hero? God, all of you X-men are so depressing. Is it the suits they make you wear? Is that it? Can’t breathe in that thing?” He continues poking at you. “Loosen up a little!”

You straighten your posture and the black leather of your suit crackles. You swat his hands away as he continues poking. “Alright! Cut it out!”

“Think of Nana Rose.” He draws a heart with two fingers. “Little old ladies like her deserve a chance, don’t they?”

And even though humans had done nothing but wage war on your kind for simply existing, you still felt obliged to help them. Besides, the thought of other mutants — kid mutants — dying when you hold the chance to save them in the palm of your hand? You were hardly managing as you were now. You’re not sure you’d be able to live with yourself if you kept going like this.

“Alright, alright!” You huff, heart pounding in your chest. You look over at where Wolverine kicks at rocks in the distance. “Fucking hell, Red. Holy fuck.”

You say it again, only this time you scream it into your hands.

“You should’ve warned me.”

“Are we good?”

“Are we go—” You scoff. You kick his ankle, feel the bones shatter and crunch beneath your foot. He lets out a short, high-pitched yelp. “You deserved that.”

“Motherfuckermotherfucker… oh you’re lucky I feel bad about lying to you or I would’ve twisted your milk bags off for that I swear to God.” He sucks in a breath. “I’ll allow it. Just this once.”

“Mhm,” you murmur, walking forward. “That doesn’t sound like an apology.”

He limps after you, floppy ankle dragging a line in the sandy dirt. “I’ll be dead before you ever get one of those out of me! And too bad I can’t fucking die!”

The difference between this Logan and your Logan is stark, minus the uncanny resemblance. Your Logan was soft and gentle, but this version is sharper and blade-edged, and your fingers bleed when you try to touch him.

Staring at him feels like throwing up a mirror and analysing yourself, a picture of what happens to a person when they make all of the wrong choices. You’re embarrassed, almost. This isn’t a version of you that you ever want him to know, but at least you can say you’re trying.

Him, on the other hand…

“Are we going to keep up the awkward silence?” You snip, awkwardly adjusting the restraints on your wrist.

You’ve been in Logan’s company for all of an hour, and yet accompanying one another through literal time purgatory didn’t seem to irk any feelings of obligation from his end. He’d been cold-shouldering and ignoring you the entire time, even though you kept catching him staring.

“I have nothing to say to you,” he spits, wriggling uncomfortably against a very unconscious Deadpool. “You got us into this mess.”

You frown, small. You can feel hatred pouring out from him, leaving a sickly bile taste in the back of your throat. You’ve lived through enough hate for being a mutant in your lifetime, enough that you’d become accustomed to tuning it out of your radio channel, so to speak, but something about it coming from the man you loved makes it a little harder to swallow.

You’re quiet when you next speak. “Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.”

He shoots you an indistinguishable look and grunts to himself. Such a Libra.

“So, what’s the story here?” Johnny asks with a sly grin. He turns to you with a glimmer of mischief in his eye. “You two know each other?”

You cringe. “Sort of. Last I remember, he wasn’t this much of a prick.”

“Oh, trouble in paradise, huh?” His grin grows. “That’s a shame. Not often we get girls like you in the void.”

“Seriously?” You say with a side-eye.

He shrugs, all blue-spandex biceps and charming smile. “No harm in trying.”

Your breath hitches as Cassandra approaches, wide eyes and tilted head aiming for you purposefully. Logan swiftly angles his body so that he’s standing in front of you and she halts as a delighted, implicating smile stretches across her face. Your chest constricts, tendrils of yearning coiling tighter. It appeared to be muscle memory: his instinctual, protective flinch. Just like your Logan used to, despite how capable he knew you were.

“Now, I’ve always wanted a Wolverine.” Her finger moves along the crowd. “Knew I’d get one eventually. But I never even dreamed of having you.”

Cassandra zips behind you and her slender fingers delve into the crevices and valleys of your brain, lips intimately close to your neck and ear. Wolverine snarls territoriality, but he’s unable to move. The urge to reach for him is overwhelming.

“Do you know that there are so few universes where you exist?” She whispers, caressing your deepest memories. “I even asked the TVA about you, in exchange for keeping the peace. I was disheartened when I found out one of you died. But you’re here! Now, I don’t believe in fate, but this almost feels like it was meant to be.”

You flinch when she uncovers a particularly fond memory, one you hadn’t been aware was so prominently in the forefront.

In the back of his truck, a cigar between his teeth, hands sliding under your shirt. In another world, he would’ve taken the time to do this properly, but living in a school didn’t exactly grant two consenting adults any privacy.

“Waited long enough for this.”

He kisses up from your bare foot to the sensitive skin of your inner knee, lips scorching against your skin.

“Logan…”

“Easy,” he murmurs, leaning away for a moment to remove his plaid overshirt, leaving himself in that white vest you could eat him alive in. “Still wanna take my time with you.”

You’re desperate, he can tell— can probably smell it, too, but you’re far too humiliated to ask him if he can.

Logan wasn’t your first by any means, but with the way you were near trembling for him truly felt like you’d be losing all of your innocence in the back seat. You’re shy and quiet, everything he isn’t. You’re infatuated with him — have been since he burst out of the lab in his grey hoodie — and have daydreamed about what it would be like to have him. You certainly didn’t let him know that right away, and with whatever shred of composure remained around his relentless flirting and teasing remarks, you tried to play hard to get.

Until you couldn’t. Because you weren’t. He had you, and with every fibre of your being, you wanted him to.

She pulls her hands from your brain with a shlick sound, rubbing her fingers together as if relishing in the produce of your memories. She grabs a rag from her pocket and smirks knowingly.

“You’re thinking of that at a time like this?” She laughs all witch-like. “Worry not; your secret’s safe with me, naughty girl.”

Wade lowers his voice and leans towards Logan. “She was thinking of me.”

“I can read between the lines, darling,” she potters on. “This isn’t about a sexual fantasy. Deep down, you just want to be wanted. To be loved.”

She steps back and extends her arms. “After all, you’ll never amount to anything in your world. It’s such a shame that your Logan left you so abruptly. Did he break your heart?” She giggles. “Why suppress your powers in his name? For a level-five mutant, you certainly don’t act like one. You can do that, here. Freely!”

Your worn thin tether creaks with exhaustion like a dilapidated bridge under pressure. There isn’t a singular fibre of your being that desires to be stuck here, but the small, angry teenage voice in your head would love nothing more than to just let go. You’d been containing your powers for as far as you can remember, and they'd always been as irresistible as the promise of Pandora's box.

But you know how that story ends.

You take a moment’s pause. “I have no interest in livin’ in a garbage dump.”

She tilts her head and neatly clasps her hands behind her back. “Do you forget where you come from? I think we both know who lives in a garbage dump.”

“You motherf—”

You’d just managed to escape Cassandra’s lair with Alioth’s foggy storm fangs nipping at your ankles when you ran across the abandoned diner.

You’re ravenous, wrist aching from how you dig at the freezer-burned ice cream. It’s your least favourite flavour but you’ve been running on fumes for the past day or so, so you’ll take what you can get, though you begin to lose your appetite when you remember Johnny, and how Cassandra had zipped the skin from him like popping a blood-filled water balloon.

Something is rumbling beneath your surface. A distinct, constant buzzing, like two atoms slowly building up radioactive energy. You’d asked for none of this, and would certainly give Wade a talking to when the time called for it, but, for now, you’re trying your hardest to make this as easy a process as possible.

Your male counterpart, however, was doing exactly what men generally do. He was making this fucking unbearable.

Logan sits across from you, brooding, fingers gripping the medicinal bottle as if it’s anywhere near appropriate to be drinking. He throws you a particularly lingering glare when he notices you staring, but refuses to maintain eye contact when you look back at him

You toss the tub and spoon across the table with a sharp clatter, your patience collapsing.

“What? Can’t even look at me?” You snap. His eyes look exhausted when they finally meet yours. Wade, being the characteristic little fucker he is, pulls a delighted, shit-stirring grin as he glances between the two of you as if watching a tennis match.

Logan gasps as he finishes taking a drink. “Not much to look at,” he says, wiping the back of his mouth.

The words twist like a fist in your gut. For a moment, you’re rendered too stunned to respond, like he’d tossed a flash-bang toward you. His casual cruelty digs deeper than you care to admit— but you’ve had far too much therapy, too much psychological training, to know he’s deflecting.

But you wouldn’t doubt for a second that there was a more beautiful version of you somewhere.

“What, you comparin’ me to someone?” You ask. You can tell you’ve struck a nerve by the way he goes for another sip. “That it?”

He grimaces.

“Do I make you feel sick? Am I making you feel sick?”

He stares at you hard, but silently. He takes a long swig of the rubbing alcohol and you cringe as his throat bobs. His silence and feigned indifference light a fire of indignation.

“You know, you’re not the only person who’s suffered. Who’s lost people.”

He laughs like what you’re saying is funny. “Yeah, right, bub, you have got no idea what loss is.”

“Oh, you are such a fucking cunt,” you spit, slamming your hands on the table as you rise to your feet. “You know what, Wade? You’re right. I can’t do this. So fuck you and fuck his timeline and fuck every timeline that had anything to do with it! I’m done.”

A wave of uncontrolled psionic energy born from your anger blasts from you upon your final words, slamming them back into their seats and sending the cutlery, nearby debris and weapons flying. The neighbouring windows smash, shattering explosively and sprinkling outside of the diner.

The simmering stops, replaced by a stifling emptiness.

“I wasn’t finished with that!” Wade cries, crouching down to scoop up what remains of the gelatinous spam.

You pause for a moment, glance at your hands, and then grab your jacket in an aggressive fit.

Wade whines your name, halfway through gagging down a forkful of cold spam off of the floor (one of which resonates with a particularly distinct crunch, but you don’t stay to find out whether or not he just truly ate glass), and he doesn’t attempt to get up and follow you as you storm off.

You take a heaving breath of hot desert air when you leave the diner. The sandy breeze tousles your hair, and with the prickly energy of an incoming nervous breakdown, your legs kick and you’re running.

“Stryker got you, too?” Logan asks, eyebrows flicking up.

You don’t look him in the eye when you nod. You cross your arms and slouch a little, caging your heart in. Stryker — the ex-militant with a fetish for experimenting on mutants — had held you captive for several years. He’d brainwashed you into using your empathetic abilities for nefarious purposes, like seducing other mutants, and sometimes important political and militant figures.

“You like me?” He questions, quieter this time.

“No… no, not like you,” you reply. “I don’t have the fancy bones. I heal fast, but I wouldn’t survive that kinda procedure.”

“Ah.”

“I don’t remember everything. Just bits and pieces. Feelings, mostly. Nightmares,” you explain. He nods understandingly. “I’m always on edge.”

“You always seem so calm,” he observes. “Nothing seems to phase you.”

“I have to be. It took a lot of pain and damage to get this level-headed,” you respond quickly. “If I don’t manage my emotions, all the emotions that I receive, touch— it all comes out. Explosively. It has to come out somehow. I could hurt people.”

“Funny. School therapist ‘n’ you’ve got the most issues,” he teases light-heartedly.

“You got no idea, lumberjack.”

You hated killing.

You’re on your knees, arms and hands and chest soaked crimson, sobbing. They’d come out of nowhere, the raiders, and they were hungry for something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. All you know is that you felt their need, their desperation, their willingness to do anything to get it.

The flash of harrowing horror someone feels before they die isn’t a unique experience. It simply varies in strength — sometimes it’s a feather-like touch that careens over you, a shuddering realisation that they’re taking their last breath, and sometimes it’s like a crack of lightning. Bloodied hands gripping your biceps with fear in a final attempt to survive. They’d rather cling to you than die alone.

You hate killing. Especially this up close.

You don’t cry for them. You don’t even cry for yourself. It’s a small emotional space where they cry vicariously through you.

You were black-out when it happened, you tell yourself, and suddenly regress to the student you used to be, sobbing on your knees in front of Charles as he tries to teach you serenity and control after an outburst had caused you to kill a nest of birds. He’d done it for Magneto, he said— so he could certainly do it for you.

You should have meditated more.

The sound of a car gurgles somewhere behind you, but you haven’t the energy to look or use your powers to seek out who’s approaching and what their intent is. You’re exhausted enough that whatever they wish to do with you — turn you to processed dog kibble, send you back into the jaws of Cassandra’s lair, kill you — whatever. Just let it happen.

A slamming car door and then the crunching of boots on gravel.

“You’re easy to track.” A pause. “You look pathetic. You done throwing your tantrum?”

Logan. Of course, it’s him.

“Leave me alone, prick.”

“As much as I’d like to, you and the Mouth still have to hold up your end of the bargain,” he quips, folding his arms across his broad chest. “Now get up.”

You glare up at him and his arms unfurl as he notices your tear-streaked face. His expression drops, softens, before it quickly ticks back up into an incredulous, irritated look.

“Are you crying?” He asks with a scoff. He pauses before dragging his hand down his face and rubbing his scruffy jaw. “Jesus Christ. Get up. Get in the car.”

“I ain’t fuckin’ around, Logan. Piss. Off.”

He mumbles a string of incoherent curses and turns on his heel. You think, for a moment and a breath of relief, that he’s truly going to give up on you and leave. He could finish this without you. It’s easier this way.

Instead, a thick bicep wraps around your middle and you’re flung over his shoulder with a yelp.

“Quit your squirmin’.”

“Then put me down!” You yell, thrashing in his grasp. He promptly ignores you, unphased by the jabs you strike at his back. You quickly unsheath the small knife from your jacket sleeve, winding up your arm before you drive it into the muscly pocket by his kidneys.

“Ow! Cheap shot, you little fucker!”

Wade sighs and clutches his hands in front of his chest romantically. “Oh, the newlyweds.”

Logan dumps you into the front seat of the car carelessly, grumbling something as he slams the door shut and applies the child locks. Petty motherfucker.

You rub the sore spot on your tailbone where you landed on a seat buckle funny. You want to bite your tongue but you’re flared up.

“We should switch places. I’m a better driver than you are.”

Logan doesn’t bother looking at you as he starts up the ignition. “Just shut up.”

“You can go on ahead and smoke a cat turd in hell, then.”

“So fuckin’ immature. Grow up.”

“Mom and Dad can you please stop fighting!” Deadpool cries out from the backseats.

You just roll your eyes, resigning into your chair and folding your arms.

At some point along the ride, Wade falls asleep, snoring soundly to himself. You’re silent in the front, drumming a beat on your knees, awkwardly thinking of something to say. You have the impulsive need to fill the silence, even if you were trapped in a crappy car with a man who had made it vehemently clear that he irrevocably hated you.

“So, if they can fix your world, what’s the first thing you’ll do?”

Logan rips his eyes towards you. “What did you say?”

“I said when you get back, what’s the first thing—”

“No, no, no— before that.”

You hesitate, wondering if you’d landed yourself in a trap based on the sharpness of his tone and the way that anger crackles off of him like static lightning.

“If… they can fix your world?”

He slams his foot on the brake and you just about catch yourself before your nose goes flying into the dashboard. Wade is thrust out of the front window, smashing through and promptly falling unconscious underneath a tree, neck broken at an awkward angle.

Your eyes widen.

“What do you mean: if?”

“That’s what Wade said—”

“I don’t give a fuck who said what. He promised me he would fix things—”

“Well, I didn’t promise you shit!”

He laughs, low and devoid of humour. “You don’t have a clue if they can fix things, do you?”

Well, no. You’ve been operating on a hunch the entire time and had half come to accept that you might be stuck in the TVA void forever. Who knows how much time has passed elsewhere?

Regardless of the fact you truly had nothing to do with whatever came out of Wade’s mouth, you weren’t about to let Mr. Worst Wolverine shit all over him and his plan to save his friends.

“Is it really that far-fetched? We made an educated wish!”

Something dark flashes across his face. You can feel hate pulsing off of him in dizzying waves, doubling with each passing moment.

“You made… an educated fucking wish?”

“What’s your problem with me, huh? Got a stick up your ass?” You reach for the car door handle, but he snaps up your wrist, holding it high. “You better let go of me right now, old man—”

“Or what, huh? Gonna run away again?” He threatens.

“You geriatric, alcoholic motherfucker. I’ve done nothin’ but try and be civil with you and you treat me like I’m the one who ruined your life! I don’t know what version of me you knew but you need to stop actin’ like I ain’t worthy of being here because of what you did!”

“Listen, I’ll tell you what my problem is with you—” he leans closer, eyes roving over you with a disgusted look on his face. “I mean, you are a ridiculous, emotional, immature crybaby. I have never met a sadder, more attention-seeking, foul-mouthed little bitch in my entire life and that says a lot because I’ve been alive for more than two hundred fuckin’ years.”

“And I’ll tell you, that bald chick was right about one thing: you will never amount to anything. You’ll never save the world. You couldn’t even save a relationship with me. I’d say you should’ve died alone but it’s one of God’s best jokes that in this universe you didn’t seem to fuckin’ die, except that ones on the rest of all of us!”

He breathes heavily when his rant finishes. You’re taken aback, jaw slack, eyes warm with the onset of tears born from shock.

“What, you got nothin’ to say, empath?”

You suck in a deep breath, blinking slowly as you flick the emotional switch off in your head.

“I’m going to hurt you now.”

He snorts. “Oh, are you?”

In a swift manoeuvre, you raise your slap him around the face. You knew better than to punch a metal skull, but you still wanted him to sting. His eyes slit, nostrils flaring in challenge.

“That all you got?”

“Not even close,” you snap back, knuckles whitening from the way you curl your fingers into your palm. “You want to play this game, Logan? Fine— but I’m not gonna sit here and keep on provin’ myself to you. I’ve had enough of your Christ-born-again superiority complex. Did you forget that you’re the worst Wolverine?”

“Oh, yeah? Well, at least I’m honest about who I am. Look at you— you’re a fuckin’ joke, pretending to be some hero in a suit made for a dead team,” he barks back, voice rising with each word. “I don’t need your bullshit “wishes”— you should know, I’ve buried people for less.”

“Yeah, because you’re so perfect, ain’t that right?” You yell, voice cracking from the power of your anger. “The almighty Wolverine— the unkillable bastard who can’t seem to hold onto anythin’ good in his life! You’ve had centuries to get your shit together, and look at you—” You look him up and down with disgust. “—still just a bitter, lonely, broken man, takin’ it out on everyone else and a goddamn bottle.”

His eyes narrow, muscles in his jaw twitching as he appears to fight and keep his temper in check, but there’s an obvious crack forming, the dam of his unbridled rage near overflowing.

“You think you know me, huh?” He murmurs, voice a deadly whisper, the calm before the storm. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about what I’ve been through. You’re nothing but a lost woman playing make-believe and hiding in the shadow of a fuckin’ merc. You’re pathetic.”

Something inside of you breaks. “I’m pathetic? Look at yourself! You’re so goddamn desperate to feel anythin’ that you’ll lash out at everyone around you for some semblance of warmth. There’s a fine line between hate and love, after all! You think you’re so strong because you can heal, because you’ve lived forever? Yeah, right— you’re the weakest, most cowardly man I’ve met in a loong time.”

The blades between his knuckles shoot out with a shink! For a moment, you think that he’s going to attack you. Hell— you even hope that he will, just to diminish some of the unbearable, stifling tension. Instead, the blades retract with a deep breath, and he grabs you forcefully by the collar of your suit, yanking you so close that you can feel the heat of his breath on your face.

His voice is low and rough, each word dripping with venom. “Go on, keep psychoanalysing me. You wanna talk about cowardice? How about leaving people who need you, just because it’s easier to run? Better yet, how about the fact that you abandoned the X-men to hide away in the mountains, huh?”

Your eyes widen with recognition.

“Yeah… Wade’s got a big mouth. Told me everythin’. You’re no hero. Hell, you’re just a selfish, reckless hillbilly who failed at pretending to be human.”

Your heart palpitates in your chest, each word coiling and slicing like blades in your intestines, but you refuse to let him see how much it hurts. Instead, your lips curl into a cold, bitter smile, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“And you’re just a sad, angry old man who can’t handle the fact that he’s lost everythin’. Go ahead: keep pushing people away! Keep hidin’ behind that anger o’ yours! It’s got you this far, ain’t it?! I’ve treated kids with trauma worth double yours and they were nothin’ but kind and selfless. I won’t let you project your failures onto me. I’m done with this.”

“Yeah, why don’t you walk away!”

The argument reaches a fever pitch, tension sizzling in the air between you. You’re so close, glaring at each other with so much anger, so much resonating heat, that it feels like something’s going to break. And then, suddenly, it does.

Before either of you can think, you close the gap between you, lips crashing against his. It’s not gentle, it’s not soft— the kiss is rough, violent, a clash of lips and fury. His grip on your collar tightens, and for a moment, you’re both frozen, caught in the shock of what’s happening.

But then something more fiery in nature than anger ignites, and he kisses you back just as fiercely, and maybe a little more desperate— like he’s trying to pour out all of his pain and resentment, into this one moment. Your tongues slide against each other and his teeth catch against yours as he groans into your mouth. Your hands thread through his hair, yanking him closer as if trying to hold onto something real and tangible in the chaos of the kiss, reeling from the sudden spinning in your head. It’s angry, raw, filled with all the things you’re not capable of verbalising: grief, love, yearning, reconciliation.

The result of a painful reunion.

The world falls away and all that’s left is the taste of him, the feel of his lips against yours, rough and demanding. You hate him right now— hate him so much that you can’t help but want him. The sheer intensity of it all overwhelms you and makes your fingers shake against the nape of his neck, but you can’t pull away— not now, not when you’ve tasted the wine. You’re too far gone, caught up in the storm of his intoxication, fantasising about ripping that yellow and blue suit off of him and riding him until there’s nothing left for him to regenerate.

And then, just as suddenly as it started, the bubble of the moment bursts with the sound of slow clapping coming from outside the car. You jerk back from Logan, breath coming in ragged gasps. Logan is equally as stunned, still tight-gripping your collar as if he doesn’t know what else to do with his hands.

You both see Wade sitting up, hands together, eyes wide as saucers as he takes in the scene.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Did I just wake up in a telenovela?” His voice is laced with amusement. “I mean, I know you two clearly had some unresolved sexual tension— but this? Oh, this is gold. Please don’t stop on my account, just let me get the camcorder first!”

You’re too stun-locked to respond, lips parting and closing as your brain scrambles to formulate a response as you’re still reeling from what just happened. Logan (for once) seems equally as lost for words, his typical scowl replaced with a look of confusion.

“Shut up, Mouth,” Logan barks, but there’s no real heat behind it. There can’t be, really, not when you’ve both been caught red-handed. He releases your collar at once.

Wade, however, is having none of it. “Oh, no, no, no! You don’t just get to brush this off like it’s nothing! That was a full-on makeout session! I only interrupted because I thought you were about to rip each other’s clothes off.” He sighs wistfully and crosses his legs. “Here I was thinking that you two hated each other— but I guess all that anger was just foreplay, huh?”

Your face burns with a mixture of shame and something else you’re not quite ready to admit. “Wade— cut it out.”

He grins, not deterred in the least. “Oh, but I’m loving this. All that pent-up aggression finally coming to fruition. It’s beautiful, truly.”

Logan shoots him a look that could melt iron, but Wade just simply shrugs, unfazed. “Hey, I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking. Everyone being me.”

“Wade,” you warn through gritted teeth.

“Well, unless you want me to watch (which I am not opposed to, by the way) maybe next time the two of you should get a room,” he tilts his head. “Or, you know, a couples therapist.”

He then turns to address Logan directly.

“And I must’ve missed the AO3 tags because I did not peg you for the enemies-to-lovers type, Mister. Who knew all it took was a bit of hate-kissing to get the sparks flying? Don’t look so ashamed! I’m just jealous I didn’t get to you first.”

He stumbles towards the car and collapses into the back seat. “Next time you wanna bump uglies, just ask for some privacy! You can save me the broken neck!” He gets himself comfortable, man-spreading and laying his hands on both of your shoulders as you stare dead-forwards, unable to look at each other.

“Gosh, you’re both so tense.” He begins massaging. “Look— props to you both for not letting all that angst go to waste. This is a safe space, and there’s no shame in a little hormone-induced—”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Logan interrupts, revving the car back to life and shoving his prodding hands away. “Just be quiet back there.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll keep the commentary to myself. But just so you know— got that bad boy playing on repeat, right here.” He says, tapping the side of his head.

You bury your face in your hands. This was going to be a long car ride.

As the car starts moving again, you muster the bravery to risk a glance at Logan. His expression is hard to read but his energy thrums with uncertainty. The boiling hatred seems to have dialled down to a gentle simmer, mostly redirected towards himself rather than you. There’s something else— something that wasn’t there before. You rip your eyes away quickly, mind racing.

For somebody so in tune with emotions and the literal ability to manipulate them if you so desired, you were horrendous at navigating your own. You don’t know what this kiss meant, or if it even meant anything at all.

If there’s anyone you didn’t expect to come across in the void, it’s X-23— Laura. She’s taller, now, with hair down her back, but she’s still got that stern, mean look on her face that intimidated you the first time you met her.

The weak front door squeaks when you open it a crack. A girl, maybe in her small teen years, blinks up at you.

“Can I help you?” You ask, wiping your flour-dusty hands down on the front of your cooking apron.

“Are you—” she says your name.

You attempt to swing the door shut, but she jams it with her boot. You flick your eyes up, glance around for any signs of threats, and then lower your gaze to her. You wrap your cardigan around your mid-section.

“I don’t go by that name anymore. Who the Hell are you, kid, and what do you want?”

“I’m here about Logan,” she says, matter-of-factly.

Logan. A name followed by your own, both of which you hadn’t heard in years.

“He’s not here, kid. He died years ago.”

“I know,” she answers, unwavering. “I was there when it happened. Your name was the last thing he said.”

You’d let her in for a glass of sugary sweet tea that day, but once stories were exchanged you told her not to come back. She respected your wishes— she said she simply wanted to put a name to the face, to get closure, but you’d felt her desperation. Perhaps she was seeking out respite, or family, but you were in no position to be sharing your space with someone who could put another target on your back.

After introductions were made with the others who had been ripped from their timelines (Elektra, Blade and oh my god a Gambit variant with muscles so huge he could pop your head between his biceps) you excused yourself to sit outside. The buzzing emotional energy made your collar feel a little tight around the neck, your head a little fuzzy with noise, so you decided to reignite the small campfire a few yards away from the safe-house and rest there, instead.

You hadn’t realised you were being followed.

“It’s not safe here.”

“It’s not safe anywhere, Logan.”

He looks defeated, raising and clasping his hands behind his head.

“I gotta leave, baby.”

“If you leave, I ain’t lettin’ you back,” you whisper. “You don’t heal the same anymore, Logan, and you promised me—”

“I know what I promised,” he rebuts, but not angrily. You can already see on his face that he’s made his choice. He’s not coming to you to discuss it. “But I owe it to him. To Charles. He gave me everything.”

“So then what did I give you?” You ask. “Not a home, not my love, not everything?” You slam the tea towel down and turn away from him as the tears form. He’s quiet, perhaps processing everything, but you’re too impatient.

“If you’re just gon’ get up and leave, do it now. I won’t beg you to stay, Jimmy.”

“I love you.”

You don’t say it back.

You wake up with a start, damp clinging to your forehead. You immediately sense another presence and glance over to see Logan watching you with a steady gaze. His expression is soft and almost reverent at first, but his facade hardens with a quick tick of his jaw.

“You talk in your sleep.” The bottle in his hand sloshes as he takes a drink. “Nightmare?”

You sigh frustratedly when you realise it’s him. Of course, it’s him — his energy reeks of whiskey and self-loathing. You prop yourself on your elbows, massaging the sore spots on your temples where sleep fog forms.

“I can’t even get some rest without you botherin’ me? You’re leakin’ self-hatred everywhere.”

“Quit hogging the fire then.”

“Fuck you,” you murmur, but it’s without bite.

A moment passes before he fills the silence again. “What are you even doing out here, alone? Trying to get yourself killed? Pretty stupid.”

“Do you know how hard it is to sleep when nobody shuts up?”

His brows knit. “They’re all dead asleep.”

His hand runs up and down your back.

“Can’t settle?” He asks after you sigh.

“No.” You turn so you’re lying on your back, shoulder touching his, staring up at the ceiling. “Everyone is feeling so loud. It’s like a frequency I can’t turn off.”

He hums. “They’re grieving, I s’pose.”

“Even you and you always said you hated the guy.” You shuffle to lie on your side, facing him. You place a hand on his bare chest. “I can feel it, you know.”

“I didn’t hate Scott. Just found him… obnoxiously irritating.”

“Tough guy.” You giggle and stroke his cheek. “You’re turnin’ soft, old man.”

He pulls you flush against him and presses a kiss to your hairline. You lay in verbal silence for a while, soaking up his presence (god, you were so in love), but you’re interrupted when he abruptly sits up and grabs the white vest he discarded somewhere near the bed.

You lean on your elbows. “Where you goin’?”

“Let’s go for a ride.”

“What?”

“You can’t sleep here. Let’s go somewhere quieter.”

“But Charles said—”

“Screw Charles. You comin’ or what?”

He hadn’t told you he loved you yet, but at that moment you felt it.

And so you do, clinging to his mid-section on his motorcycle, head stuffed into the helmet he affectionately forces you to wear. It’s a warm night in New York, soupy with heat, but the further you get away from the compound with him by your side the more you feel you can breathe.

“’Course, you don’t understand.”

You reach for the small pouch on your hip and retrieve a cigarette. You light it between your lips, taking a seat a few paces away from him, hands still shaking a little with the aftershocks of the night terror.

“Since when did you start smoking?”

You perk a brow. “I’ve always smoked.”

He seems to realise something and simply shakes his head before returning to the vice in his fist.

“Right.”

You stare at him for a long, passing moment, before pulling out your lighter again and offering it towards him. He perks a brow.

“I know you got a cigar in there somewhere,” you say. He pauses, sighs, and then retrieves a thick cigar from one of the pouches on his suit. You lean closer, flick the lighter, and cup your hand to protect it from the breeze, shamelessly glancing at the dancing glow that bathes his face amid the firelight. You feel the urge to kiss him again, and when his eyes flick up to yours, you think for the briefest second that he wants to kiss you, too.

Swallowing, you collapse your lighter and clear your throat. You sit quietly, smoking and drinking in a silence only negated by the distant sound of chittering bugs around you. Once you’re finished with your cigarette, you toss the butt into the fire.

“We’re infiltrating tomorrow morning.”

He laughs dryly. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

Your lips tighten into a thin line. “We won’t make it without you.”

“Sure you will. I’m not him, you know,” Wolverine grumbles, slugging another shot of alcohol.

You scrutinise him from across the log. You wonder if he feels as pathetic as he looks.

“No— you got that right,” you answer. You pry the liquor from his hands but the grip he releases from the neck of the bottle must have been a mercy on his part because you knew he was extraordinarily stronger than you. “He was much braver than you.”

His eyes flicker from the flames to you as you take a long swig.

“Although probably just as stupid.”

A pause. Crackling and popping firewood fills the silence.

“But, he was a hero. And so are you.”

A beat before he spits a dry laugh, “what gave you that idea?”

You give him a once over and offer a half-smile. “That suit, for starters.”

He looks down at himself like he’d forgotten he was wearing it and wipes away a stray speck of blood from the bright material that you’re sure you might be responsible for.

“What, you like it?” He grunts.

You can’t help but smile. “Yellow suits you.”

“This is all I had left to remember you— them by,” he says, tone turning more sombre as he reminisces.

You decide it’s not the time to make another jab, so, instead, you play back and forth with the bottle for a while until the alcohol stops stinging your throat.

Something small shatters inside of you when you watch him muster the strength to look into your eyes, and his look a little glassy.

“Did you love him?”

Woof, that needed a healthy drink of courage to answer. When you hold his gaze, there’s a hollowness to his expression— an unasked question. Was there truly a version of him worth loving?

“Yeah.” You wipe the back of your hand across your mouth to cover the crack in your voice. “Yeah, I did.”

He’d insisted he hadn’t wanted you around yet he’d kissed you and now followed you to where you’d been sleeping. That had to count for something, so you extend your arm and gesture the bottle towards him— an olive branch in the form of shitty Jack Daniels. Your fingers touch when he accepts it and the brief glimmer of eye contact you share sends shivery energy zipping between you.

“I loved him,” you repeat, as if convincing yourself. A repeated balm to soothe the pain of letting him leave.

“He’s an idiot for leaving you.”

You bite back a sob-laugh, imagination caught somewhere between wondering who you’d rather beat up more: him, or yourself.

“Maybe I’m an idiot for not followin’ him.” You sniff deeply to push back the incoming sob-induced mess. “Not that he woulda let me.”

He hums resignedly.

Clearing your throat, you tuck your hands between your thighs. Swiftly moving on. “What was I— she like?”

He takes a long drink and sighs thickly when he comes up for air. He looks down at his hands when he talks as if choosing his words thoughtfully and carefully.

“Strong, smart. Stubborn. Far too fuckin’ stubborn.”

You force a smile over the flinch of pain in your chest. “Guess we got that in common.”

You reach up and twist the dog tag around your neck, feeling for the ring you’d slipped around the chain. You were never married legally but were in all the ways that mattered. Your heart aches for the brief moment of domesticity you shared with him. You expect him to be finished, but he once laughs, a smile cracking on his face.

“She loved kids— had a soft spot for the weird ones.” He squints and rubs at the flesh between his knuckles where the blades typically protrude. “Put me in my place. Stood up for what was right.”

His words strike a chord in your heart, playing the familiar tune of yearning and guilt and grief. A swelling sensation rises from your stomach and you’re not sure if you’re going to scream, cry or throw up.

“Were you—?”

“In love with her? What, like you can’t tell?” He interrupts, face hardening. Another drink. “It doesn’t matter. We argued one night and I refused to follow her back to the school, ‘bout the same time the humans went mutant hunting.”

Logan takes a moment to catch himself.

“When I came back, shit-faced from the bar, I realised I’d gotten my version of you murdered, along with the rest of them. Laid up like a fucking log pile. That’s what loving me got you.”

The gruesome imagery sours the liquor in your stomach. You push the nausea down with a hard swallow.

“I’m sorry.”

“Wh—” He jolts back, face pinched. “I got you killed, and you’re fuckin’ sorry?”

“There’s a world where you didn’t make that choice. You know, I’m not proud of who I am, either,” you answer, softly. “After you left and I lost you… I got bitter, stopped pulling my punches.”

“You never liked hurting people.”

“I didn’t.” You take a deep breath, willing away the warmth that pools behind your eyes. You quickly regain composure with a short cough. “Whatever woman you’re comparing me to, I stopped being her a long time ago. Like you told me— I’m no hero.”

He grunts, looking like he regrets saying that now. Checkmate. You’re not what either of you expected or yearned for in one another, but maybe you’re exactly what you both need.

“You know, your accents thicker.”

He says it as if to draw a line of separation, but you take it as an invitation. Your head swims from the alcohol, and against what probably is your better judgement, you inch closer to him until your knees bump against each other.

“That’s what I get for hidin’ in the mountains. Got adopted by a scary old lady and her church friends. I reckon she rubbed off on me. You’d like her, I think,” you tell him fondly. There’s something wistful about it, imagining a life with him. You grieve a life you never had but somehow, in his company, the melancholy loosens its grip.

“Maybe we got lucky,” you add flatly.

He lifts the bottle with a dry laugh. “You have a very funny idea of what lucky means, bub.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be so sure. Y’see, they didn’t get lucky. They died, ‘n’ we lost each other,” you explain, glancing up at the stars as if either version of you would ever be in heaven, as if it was as loving enough as a mother’s womb to stretch wide enough to allow space for mutants.

God probably hated you just as much as they did down here.

You lower your head onto his shoulder. “But, we’re still here. Maybe there was always space in my universe for you.”

“You’re drunk,” he observes flatly, but he doesn’t move.

“A little.” You get more comfortable against his tense bicep and close your eyes. “Humour me, why don’t you?”

He sighs, but it’s gentle. “Just for a while.”

“Good, because you’re not very good at keeping your feelings quiet. I know you like this.”

“Keep that to yourself.”

You sigh, eyes remaining closed. “We ain’t gonna talk about it, are we?” You ask, in reference to the kiss.

“Nope.”

A high-pitched whine resonates in your ears, vision blurring as if lying underneath a rippling river current. Paradox has just explained the stakes to you — to stop Cassandra, somebody would have to lay down on the wire and make the sacrifice play. This wasn’t a matter of regeneration anymore— it was being ripped apart from the seams, atomised.

It just so happens that your cat, Kevin, has been loving his little journey around the TVA. Cheater.

“You won’t survive it,” is what you say in response to Logan offering himself up for the job. What you really meant was: I don’t think I can survive losing you again.

“I know,” Logan answers. His eyes drip to where you palm at the slow-healing wound on your side, courtesy of the Lady Deadpool variant. You’re winded, running on fumes, and know you’re in no position to start throwing yourself out there as a suicide volunteer. You’d never make the journey, let alone succeed in your venture.

“That’s why it’s gotta be me,” Deadpool interrupts, peeling the mask from his face to address you both. “Neither of you asked for any of this. You were right. I lied. I lied right to both of your faces — just to get you to help me, and you did.”

“You didn’t lie,” Logan replies, throwing you a glance. “You made an educated wish.”

He reaches into his pocket and slaps the bloodied Polaroid of Deadpool’s friends against Wade’s chest. The gesture is a final, silent acknowledgement of why any of you are here in the first place, and everything that’s led to this moment.

“I got nothin’ back in my world,” he explains, the sharp arrow of his words striking a sting straight through your heart. “Let me do this. For you.”

You could see that this meant more to him, that he would only deem himself worthy and die a peaceful death if he could do it knowing he saved at least one variant of you. This is more than just a mission. This is his only chance to redeem himself, and you know you’re in no position to start trying to convince him that you’d have him either way. Fuck redemption.

You’re parallel from one another, standing just outside of touching distance. It was a cruel existence— reaching out and never quite being able to hold on. It’s inevitable, the pull you feel. You’re dictated by his gravity but cursed by the narrative.

Your chest rises and falls with shallow, laboured breaths as you attempt to process what’s happening, what he’s asking you to let him do. The pain in your side ebbs only from the comparative pain of watching another version of the man you love sacrifice himself for you.

His voice is a quiet whisper. “Give me this.”

But I love you. The words are there, hiding behind your clenched teeth, gnawing at the bars like a feral animal caged in the reminder that this isn’t — shouldn’t be — the man that you love.

Something shifts and as you’re running on the delirium of your battery running low, healing resources drained, you decide that you don’t actually care to make the distinction any more.

You’re in no condition to fight; you barely had the energy to argue with him, let alone stop him. But you can’t just let him go.

One wobbly step forward. You poke his chest, mustering whatever energy remains to express your feelings in the only true way you know how. “I…” you stammer, but you suddenly can’t find the words.

His hand reaches up and he splays yours flat against his chest. Faintly, buried deep behind the armoured layer of his suit, you feel the distinct thunk, thunk of his heart. He exhales deeply when your empathetic energy transmission reaches the other side. Your eyes connect, and even through the sharp whites of his mask, you can feel the psionic pulse resonating between you two— strong enough that the wound on your side begins to sew itself together.

“I know,” he whispers.

And you believe that he does.

He nods shortly, releases your hand, and turns on his heel. You collapse against the control centre, eyes needling through the camera footage, desperate to watch the final moments and know that his sacrifice was worth it.

It’s about the same time that Deadpool yanks his mask back on and barrels down the hallway after him.

“Wade!”

You glance back at the party as you creep towards the apartment door to leave. Your consciousness has only recently slipped back into place, having hovered somewhere above your body for the entire time you witnessed your friends atomically ripped apart, only for them to return mere moments later.

You think it might’ve been witnessing Wolverine sweaty and shirtless that was finally the last straw for you. You’re not sure you’ve recovered since.

You thought you were being sneaky about your departure, but a flat hand reaches from out of view, splays and then holds the door closed.

“You sure I can’t convince you to stay?” Logan asks, voice slow and tentative.

“I ain’t runnin’ this time, I promise,” you answer. He rests his arm on the beam above him, making him appear even taller and maybe even more imposing. Your pulse quickens as you look up at him, trying to find the right words, ones that you hope won’t give you away. You nearly squeak. “I um— just—”

He arches a brow, a hint of a micro-smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. He shifts, getting closer by just a fraction. “Yeah?”

Trying to keep your distance is proving to be immensely hard when he’s gotten himself this deliciously close. His energy tastes of confidence, a stark contrast to the self-loathing only a mere few days prior. It’s magnetic. If you make eye contact now, you’re not sure you’ll be able to control yourself.

The atmosphere crackles with tension, like the static energy right before lightning strikes. His gaze is intense when you look at him, and with the way his eyes glance purposefully down at your parted lips—

Jesus. Pull yourself together.

You gently pull away from him and feel the spell of the moment dissolve. “I just… need time.”

Recognition flashes on his face, as well as a tick of disappointment, but he seems to understand.

A beat, then he taps the door before stepping aside. “Alright. Don’t be a stranger.”

Wade bursts around the corner, arms wide and voice booming. Vanessa hangs off of his arm, white teeth gleaming with mischievous joy.

“Whoa, hey there, lovebirds! What’s going on here— a secret rendezvous? Looking for somewhere to sneak off? Should I cue the romantic music or just give you two some privacy?”

You jump in surprise at his sudden entrance, flinching away from Logan as if you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t. Logan’s expression shifts from whatever tender moment was brewing, spell broken, to a mix of exasperation and resignation, jaw tightening.

“Wade,” he grumbles, voice sharp, but you can acknowledge there’s a level of begrudging affection beneath the steely surface. “Timing, as usual, is impeccable.”

“Um, actually, I was just leavin’,” you answer, tugging on your bag.

“WHAT!” Wade exclaims, face dropping. “We haven’t even gotten to our favourite part yet!”

You tick a brow. “Our favourite part?”

“The cocaine part,” he says, matter-of-factually.

“Wade, that was one time,” you pinch the bridge of your nose. “I’m sorry. Thank you for inviting me. I just can’t miss my flight.”

Dogpool jumps at your ankles, whimpering and chewing on the hem of your jeans. You give her a gentle scratch on her head, deftly avoiding the lick of her impressive tongue. Wade scoops her up, holding her against his shoulder and kissing her affectionately on her wet nose.

“You, ah, need a ride?” Logan offers.

Your heart stutters at his chivalrous attempt. “Oh, um. That’s okay— I called a cab. So.”

That was a lie. You hadn’t— not yet. You just weren’t sure if you were going to make the right decisions if you were alone in his company for an hour. Probably wouldn’t make it to the airport without fighting or crying or making stupid choices.

He rubs his jaw. “Right.”

“I’ll… see you around?”

“I better!” Wade yells, using two fingers to gesture that he’s keeping his eye on you as Vanessa yanks him around the corner gleefully.

A magnetic tether — or red string, whatever you want to call it — seems to strain when you walk away from Logan. You feel the pull in your chest, a fluttering of electricity, but you swallow the urges and ignore the way they scratch like glass on the way down.

You call an Uber, squeezing your bag tightly for a source of comfort as you crowd yourself into the back seat. You spare one last glance at the apartment and think for a brief moment you see a silhouette of someone watching you from the balcony, but they slip away into the light before you can discern it.

You know, though. Of course, you know.

You expected relief when you arrived home, but, instead, the aching, gnawing black hole in your chest seems to grow exponentially. You go through the motions— feed your cat, tend to the garden, eat the food with no appetite, go to Church.

The fixture of Jesus pinned to the cross gives you pause for the first time. You wonder if he was a mutant.

You weren’t sure how much of this “time” thing you were going to need to heal or make a decision on where you and Logan stood after everything, but only after your second night, sleepless and alone, do you start to doubt that this will be an easy process. You communicate like you know what you’re doing, but you haven’t stopped shaking since he kissed you, like a newborn foal traversing ice.

You want to do things right. You’re not trying to replace any missing pieces or live up to any expectations he might have of you. The girl he knew seemed to be a softer, sweeter (less traumatised) version of you, and you worry that you’d be constantly comparing him to a ghost of himself.

The rain lulls you as it patters on the window by your bed, but sleep doesn’t take you.

You hear thunder, you think, and wonder if the chickens are frightened in their coops. However, the distant grumble continues to grow, reverberating through the floorboards of your rickety cabin. As it creeps closer you discern that it’s not a brewing storm— but the growling engine of a motorcycle.

Awash with a deep sense of knowing, you throw yourself out of bed and knot a silk robe around your middle. The sound of the engine dissipates, replaced only by the hammering rain and the rushing pulse in your ears when you tear your door open.

You see him— all leather jacket slick with rainwater and tight jeans, brows pinched against the onslaught of the weather as he dismounts his bike.

Logan.

When your eyes meet, there’s a palpable shift in the air, and the storm, angry as a howling spirit, mirrors the turbulent emotions within you. You don’t speak, you don’t think, you just act.

Barefoot, dressed in your slip of a robe, you race down the short path and meet him halfway.

“Logan? Logan?” You call out. “What are you doin’ here?!”

“Had to see you,” he calls out between strides, voice nonchalant as if what he’s said was obvious.

You’re closing the distance. “That’s a day’s ride, and the weather—”

Instead of letting you finish, he grasps your face, kissing you suddenly and with a reverence so sincere that your knees feel gelatinous and weak. His thumbs brush away the raindrops— tears? —that drip over your crystallised lashes. His touch is both grounding and electrifying; the warmth of him pressed against you is a stark contrast to the chilling downpour.

Your fingers curl against the front of his jacket, clinging with equal fervour as if it’s the only thing keeping you anchored from floating someplace else. The strength of his body crowds over you, arm sliding down to capture you by your waist as you lean into him, syrupy-decadent and entirely reliant on him to keep you upright.

The kiss deepens, his tongue sliding over yours tasting both bittersweet and intoxicating in equal measures, like cigar smoke and peppermint gum. There’s a distinct sharpness of liqour and you wonder if he had a shot (or bottle) of courage before coming here. You breathe deeply against his skin, smelling rainwater, musk and gunpowder; your senses are completely overwhelmed by him and you’re not sure that anything could pull you away.

The red string knots.

When you both eventually take pause, gasping for air as the rain continues to pelt, his eyes lock with yours. He radiates relief, desire, and a raw vulnerability that makes your heart ache.

“You’re freezin’,” he murmurs, peppering kisses against your lips, your cold nose, and pulling one of your hands to his face to peck along your palm. You feel dizzy in his embrace, drunk on his lips.

“You should come inside,” you whisper, “before the neighbours start askin’ questions.”

He quietly nods, kissing your fingers before following you inside and ducking away from the rain.

Once inside, he shakes the rain from his hair with a flick, eyes immediately roaming around the innards of your respectable (tiny) house, the size of him immediately proportionally shrinking the interior. He absorbs your surroundings, chivalrously pretending like he can’t see every curve of you in that wet material.

You lead him towards the heath, lighting a small fire to help dry you both off. You leave, pottering around to gather some towels for your hair, and arrive back to see he’s peeled off the top layer of his clothes, leaving him half-exposed, his back an impressive marvel of rippling muscle. He glances at you over his shoulder.

You’re lost for words, but can’t just stand there ogling him. “Um, I don’t think I have any spare clothes that’ll… fit…”

When he turns to face you, his rain-slick torso shines in the firelight, skin glistening on the taught muscles of his biceps as he accepts a towel from you. Your words lag, entirely distracted by the realisation of one thing when you glance down at his v-line and dark, coiling hair that creeps down into his jeans: you’re absolutely going to have sex with this man.

You might’ve decided that when you watched the way his jeans clung to him when he dismounted his motorcycle, but that’s beside the point.

“That’s alright,” he answers, towel slung over his shoulder, eyes roving shamelessly over the damp, silky robe that clings to your silhouette effortlessly. “Don’t need ‘em.”

Your mouth dries when he steps closer to you, head angled, lips centimetres apart.

“Logan…” you breathe, tone edging toward a warning.

He presses against you, tilting you back. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll stop. I’ll get back on that bike and I’ll leave.”

You creep further away, trying to catch your breath. “I—”

The words don’t manifest, simply because you don’t have it in you to lie— to deny yourself of this.

He cages you in against the wall, shrinking you underneath his frame, eyes narrowed and dark as they search for yours through lowered lashes. “Tell me you don’t feel somethin’, and I’ll walk away. You won’t see me again.”

His bare-chested proximity was overwhelming you. You’re acutely aware of every inch of his skin that touches yours, pebbled nipples hard against his warm flesh, stubbled jaw nuzzling against your neck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. You feel like a teenager again, anxious and hormonal, a ball of puppy fat and unrequited crushes. The space between your thighs positively aches with heat, throbbing like a second heartbeat.

“I can’t… I can’t tell you that I feel something.”

He leans back, lips quirked with a flash of disappointment.

You blink up at him. “Let me show you instead.”

He ticks an eyebrow.

You use your empathetic influence to decrease his heartbeat, relaxing him down to the bone. He sighs, nosing against your shoulder, arms flexing as he holds himself up against you.

“Just with a little influence…” you stroke your way up from the slow pulse in his neck to his jaw, capturing him swiftly. You use your mutation to increase his heart rate this time, hiking it up to an excitable level. His cheeks begin to flush, pupils dilated, lips parted with the anticipation of your kiss. His eyes darken with something intrinsically primal and hungry.

“Does it excite you?” You ask, innocently.

He shakes his head all dog-like as if to regain control, canine showing as his lips curl into a wolfish grin.

“You’re not the only one with… tricks. I can do that, too— in other ways,” he says, tone low and suggestive. He lifts a hand, tracing a knuckle over your exposed collarbone, shifting the soft material of your robe just an inch. Your breath hitches.

“You know I can hear your heartbeat, right?”

You blush. You hadn’t known that.

You challenge his eye contact, feigning self-control and authority. The stare-down has your pulse spiking, arousal ricocheting down your spine and sitting low and syrupy in your belly.

“Your heart’s beating pretty fast, too.”

Oh, Hell. He’s got you melted like butter in a pan.

You rest your head against the wall, breath quickening. “If we do this, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

“Good,” he growls. “I don’t like to stop.”

The teasing back-and-forth game of teetering towards nearly touching finally gets the better of you. You’re weak, as malleable as soft dough, so you invite him against your mouth with a sigh-wine and a tug on the nape of his neck.

He positively devours you, a hand palming at your breast as you kiss desperately and feverishly. The shoulder of your robe slips and you’re half-exposed, the slip barely holding itself together by the loose knot on your waist. He pulls you impossibly closer, the skin of his chest flush against yours as he reaches and digs fingers into the globe of your ass, hips twitching together.

You fumble between your bodies, yanking on his belt buckle and zipper impatiently. He pulls backwards, a wet string of spit snapping between your lips as you separate, helping you with steadier fingers to remove his jeans. With equal passion, he swiftly tugs on the waist-tie of your robe and discards it somewhere on the floor.

When you’re both bare, nude silhouettes sharp and soft in the firelight, he stumbles you over to the plush rug in the centre of the room. He nods to the couch.

“Legs up.”

You obey without hesitation, taking your seat and spreading decadently for him. He kneels below you of you, hips between your ankles, and gazes at you like a hungry, stalking animal. You feel impossibly sexy and dangerous.

He peppers kisses along the bone of your ankle first, foot hiked up onto his shoulder, only breaking eye contact to flutter his eyes closed. He moves along the inner length of your leg, pausing keenly against the sensitive parts— the thin stretch behind your knee, the soft plush of your thigh. He lowers himself, scruff tickling between your legs, and then licks a molten stroke between your folds, parting you with his tongue and burying his face deeper.

You clench around his skull, mindfulness of your heightened mutant abilities long forgotten. You can’t crush metal between your thighs. Or can you?

He groans into you, varying suckling and kissing you on your clit with long strokes on the blade of his tongue to your hole, lapping up the nectar of your arousal, fingers digging bruisingly into your hips. The sting of his grip and the relentless lave of his tongue entice moans from you, fingers raking into his hair for some semblance of reality grounding in your pleasure-lapsed consciousness.

Jesus. With as filthy as his mouth was, you should’ve known he would be this good at eating pussy.

You come quick, orgasm pulsing on his lips. The burn of overstimulation seizes your muscles, writhing against his onslaught, but he shoves your hips down.

“Not done with you yet,” he murmurs possessively, leaning back to wipe his chin. “On all fours.”

You bite your lower lip, suppressing the humiliation of the intimacy (vulgarity) of it. You turn, belly still clenching with the aftershocks, arching with the anticipation, whining moments later when his mouth reconnects with you. His hands palm at your ass, spreading you wider, tongue slipping dangerously close to the tight ring of muscle.

He slides a finger knuckle-deep, miming fucking you in a rhythmic pulse. His other hand massages you, thumb sliding down until you jerk sensitively against his nudging intrusion.

You feel impossibly full and tingly, clenching around the burn of his thumb and the velvet of his finger, second orgasm surging and bubbling over with your face pressed against the couch cushion, lips agape. You’re slick, drip-dropping onto his cupping palm, every nerve in your body burning raw as his wrist works you through the pulses.

You turn over, relishing in the sight of his scruff glistening with the aftermath of your orgasm, his eyes dark with lust— a hellish man, seraphic on his knees for you. Your insides clench at the sight as he quite literally shatters and redefines what worship means to you.

“Tired already?” He hums, massaging your hips.

You perk a challenging brow. “That was just the warm-up, old man.”

“Alright,” he seethes, sucking on his lower lip as he lifts himself up to your level. “Show me what you got then, baby.”

When you kiss, his mouth slides against yours, drenched with the taste of yourself. His cock steels against your belly when you pull him close, tip pearl-smooth with precum when you reach down and grasp him with a hollowed fist. The feel of him, heavy and warm in your grip, fans to life the flames of your briefly quenched arousal, and you hungrily pull him down onto the couch beside you.

Moisture pools on your tongue as you rub him. You spit on your hand before stroking him from the base to tip, lathering him silky with your drool. You tuck your hair behind your ears, narrowing your cheeks as you slide your mouth up and down his length, fisting the inches that remain.

“Christ.” He twitches in your mouth as you gently massage the warm weight of his sac, lewd sounds emanating from where your lips and tongue meet him. “Just like that. Good fuckin’ girl,” he snarls, gripping your hair in a fist at the crown of your head. Your engine purrs with his encouragement, revving with newfound enthusiasm.

You always gave as good as you got, after all, and you’re certainly not one to back away from a challenge.

His head lolls onto the back of the couch, thighs tense beneath you, cock hot and hard on your tongue. He growls when he comes, pulsing strongly in your mouth as you lap up the produce of his orgasm, salty and molten down your throat.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“Put those regenerative powers to good use, why don’t you?” You ask, working him through the over-sensitivity with your wrist. His eyes don’t once leave yours, even as they glaze over and flinch from the pleasure burn. There’s a sharp look of challenging determination on his face— a grit of his teeth, the furrow in his brow. He remains hard in your hands and you perk an impressed brow. Not bad for an old man.

There’s a sweet moment of vulnerability when you crawl over him, a brief sobering in the cloud of lust, a clarity of two not-quite strangers and their shared grief and yearning.

You’re not sure where this moment will take you, but the love of somebody scraping together the shards of a shattered heart for a brief time, even as it cuts their hands, holds you with a semblance of human connection so sincere that you’ll carry it with you for a lifetime.

His thighs spread to accommodate you. You hold your fingers against the thick chords in his neck for support as you fumble between your bodies, slotting him against the catch in your cunt before lowering yourself entirely.

You hiss against the intrusion and he steadies you with a hand on your hip.

“Easy. Don’t hurt yourself.”

You laugh-moan, laying your palms against the coils of hair on his sweat-shimmering chest.

“I can take it.”

The fire, intended to help dry you off, creates a heated environment that beads sweat on his temple. The only brain cells that remain coherent bounce around on lust in your skull — so you lean forward, lick the salty droplet clean, and sigh-whine as you begin rocking against him.

You fall into sync quickly, a desperate rhythm of desperate bodies. The delicious ache of him inside you is a masochistic thrill, similar to the irresistible press on a day-old bruise. The squelching shlick between your bodies is an animalistic reminder of your flesh and blood as you chase the pleasure, bouncing with vigour.

“Christ— I can feel you…” his jaw clenches with resolve, fingers digging into the meat of your ass. “…dripping all over me. You wanted this bad, huh?”

“Wanted to ride you in that fuckin’ Honda,” you straighten your posture, leaning away from him to hold your breasts, panting words between bated breaths. “Thought it might shut you up.”

His hand snaps up and grabs you roughly by the chin. “Mm… mouthy, aren’t ya?”

You grin. “You got no idea, lumberjack.”

He pulls your face against him, meeting your mouth halfway in a sloppier, fever-driven kiss that shoots arousal to your core like a shot of his favourite whiskey. Something feral stirs within you: a primal, cellular-deep need to connect with him further. Your empathetic power roils off of you like steam on a hot spring, surging into and merging with him until there’s nothing but one feeling, a black hole of unquenchable desire.

You suddenly feel as though you are him: navel-deep, a throbbing muscle with an aching desire to dive further into the serpent-clutch of your cunt, gliding through tingly, honey-silk velvet, blades hanging onto a tether of self-control as they threaten to slide out of your knuckles in ecstasy.

Well. This was certainly new. Add “voodoo sex doll” to your list of mutations.

You gasp, ripping away from the kiss, your powers recoiling back into you at whip-lash speed, dizzying in its ferocity. His eyes meet yours with darkened curiosity.

“Did you—”

“I felt that,” he grunts, tongue darting out to roll over his lips. “It always like that for you? Feelin’ so fuckin’ full?”

You half-laugh blissfully. “Only the good times.”

“I’ll show you a good time, alright.”

He isn’t gentle when he manhandles you, forcing you into an arch as he repositions and aligns himself behind your thighs, one foot planted firmly on the floor, the other bent to accommodate the new angle. He reinserts himself inside of you with ease, hands palming your hips and ass.

You feel him nudging cervix-deep and you reach out, clawing at the couch to hold your jerking body steady against the relentless slap of his hips. There’s no need to tell him faster or harder when you feel the metal plate of his adamantium hips pressing against your ass, pounding and vulgar with the sound of sweat-damp skin-on-skin.

It’s involuntary, the way you pant and cry out, intoxicated by the relentless drag and pull of his cock. He says something to you but you either don’t hear him or have enough conscious space in your sex-drunk fog to process words and respond. He slides a hand down your spine and pulls on your hair until you’re upright, breath hot when it fans against your neck.

“Where’s that mouth gone?”

You lick the drool from your lip, throwing him a glance over your shoulder. “Fuck you.”

The half-lidded up-and-down look he gives you as satisfaction grows slowly on his lips turns your bones to jelly. “There she is,” he growls back, offering a sharp slap of encouragement on your ass as he drops you back onto your front. You involuntarily grip around him, puffy clit throbbing with the almost-but-not-quite-there anticipatory build. “You gonna come for me? Yeah? I can fuckin’ feel it.”

You slide a hand underneath yourself, reaching for the swollen nub with two fingers. You’re overwhelmed with kinetic energy akin to a fizzy champagne bottle— two more shakes until you’re ready to pop.

You hear a Snikt! behind you, accompanied by a throat-caught groan, and then the distinct ripping shred of blades impaling your couch. You finally come, hard, when you feel him throbbing inside of you, followed by the decadent syrupy flood of his orgasm filling you up. He ruts into you one, two three more final times, milking himself dry, before collapsing over your body in a sweaty heap, sparing you the weight of his metal bones with a forearm propped next to you.

Shared fluids drip to the couch when he eventually pulls out of you, blades retreating into his clenched fists. The fluffy innards of the chair spill out beside you, and, while you were in no financial position to afford another, the sight entices a humoured smile from you.

“Sorry,” he says with a wince, helping you sit up when your unreliable legs shake beneath you.

“That’s alright. It’ll make for an interestin’ story,” you retort, fanning yourself with a hand. You both let out a shared laugh, mostly from the relieved delirium of it all. After a beat, you lean into him, massaging a hand across his belly. “So. We really doin’ this?”

His face softens. “If you’ll have me.”

You cup his face and kiss his cheek. “I’d take any version of you I could get.”

divider credits: @/vysleix and @/cafekitsune tag list: @bearwithegg, @uhlunaro, @sseleniaa, @jxssimae, @autumnsymphony

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #james logan howlett #wolverine #x reader #deadpool and wolverine #honda odyssey #logan x reader

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esotericalchemist · 2 months ago

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𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 - 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬?

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In Vedic Astrology, the eleventh house is known as the House of Gains and represents your aspirations, income, and the fulfillment of desires. This house shows how and where you are likely to achieve success and material wealth in life. The placement of the ruling planet of your eleventh house, as well as any planets within it, offers insight into the sources of your financial gains, social connections, and overall prosperity. Essentially, understanding the eleventh house helps you see where opportunities for growth and abundance may manifest in your life.

𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

With Aries influencing your eleventh house, you tackle friendships, goals, and financial gains with enthusiasm, boldness, and a trailblazing attitude. You’re likely to secure wealth by being assertive, taking calculated risks, and pursuing competitive or entrepreneurial paths. Your friends and social networks are often key to your success, frequently drawn from dynamic or high-energy environments.

Mars in the Houses (Mars is the ruler of Aries)

Mars in the 1st House: Your gains come from personal drive, leadership, and independent projects. For example, you might start a business like a fitness studio, using your energy and visibility to promote your brand and grow your venture.

Mars in the 2nd House: Wealth tends to flow from managing finances, property, or physical assets. You might find success through real estate investments, or in financial sectors such as banking, perhaps working as a stockbroker or in property management.

Mars in the 3rd House: Profits are linked to communication, marketing, media, or travel. You might thrive in advertising, writing for publications, or running a travel blog, turning your communication skills into financial gain.

Mars in the 4th House: Your wealth could come from real estate, family inheritance, or home-based businesses. For instance, you might profit from buying and renovating homes or establish a successful home business, such as property management or interior design.

Mars in the 5th House: Creative projects, speculative investments, or entertainment ventures may be lucrative for you. This could mean profiting from stock market investments, cryptocurrency, or finding success in the arts as a performer or artist.

Mars in the 6th House: Hard work, health-related fields, or competitive industries could bring financial rewards. You might build wealth through a career in healthcare, as a personal trainer, or by excelling in a demanding legal profession, gaining success by overcoming obstacles.

Mars in the 7th House: Financial gains are often tied to partnerships—whether personal or business-related. You could team up with someone to start a business like a law firm or gain wealth through marriage to a prominent or driven partner.

Mars in the 8th House: Joint ventures, inheritances, or industries focusing on transformation, such as finance or psychology, could bring you wealth. You might inherit assets or succeed through business partnerships or roles in fields like investment banking or insurance.

Mars in the 9th House: Wealth may arise from education, law, travel, or publishing. You could build success as a professor, lawyer, or publisher, or by pursuing international opportunities, such as work in the travel industry.

Mars in the 10th House: Career achievements, leadership positions, or public recognition are key to your financial success. You might rise to a leadership role, like CEO or political figure, where your ambition and dynamic energy lead you to the top.

Mars in the 11th House: Your wealth may stem from your social circles, technology, or large organizations. You could benefit by working in the tech industry, founding an innovative business, or through influential friends who open doors to profitable opportunities.

Mars in the 12th House: Profits come from behind-the-scenes efforts, foreign ventures, or spiritual pursuits. You might gain financially by working in hospitals, charitable organizations, or through businesses tied to travel, import/export, or spiritual guidance.

𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

With Taurus governing your eleventh house, your approach to wealth and gains is grounded, patient, and often centered around material security. You favor slow, steady growth, and may build your financial success through reliable investments or artistic ventures. Friendships and social networks can be significant in your financial development, particularly when aligned with shared values or tied to industries focused on luxury and beauty.

Venus in the Houses (Venus is the ruler of Taurus)

Venus in the 1st House: You are likely to attract wealth through your charm, physical appeal, and the way you present yourself. For instance, you could succeed in beauty, fashion, or personal branding—becoming a successful influencer or model, where your appearance and social magnetism are vital assets.

Venus in the 2nd House: Wealth flows through careful handling of finances, luxury goods, or industries related to beauty and aesthetics. You might find financial success in areas like fine art, jewelry, or running a high-end boutique. This placement supports a steady income in beauty or fashion-related businesses.

Venus in the 3rd House: Financial success arises through communication, media, or education, particularly in artistic fields. You could thrive as a writer, work in advertising or public relations, or make money from teaching or speaking on topics related to beauty or luxury.

Venus in the 4th House: Gains are often tied to property, real estate, or home-based ventures, particularly those related to comfort and aesthetics. You might generate wealth by flipping houses, engaging in interior design, or running a family business. Inheritance or familial wealth could also play a role.

Venus in the 5th House: Your financial success may come from creative endeavors, entertainment, or speculative investments. You could profit from acting, filmmaking, or other artistic projects. Additionally, this placement can indicate gains through stock market investments, particularly in sectors related to art or entertainment.

Venus in the 6th House: Profits are earned through service, health, or beauty-related industries. You might build wealth by working in areas like cosmetology, health spas, or wellness centers. A talent for creating a harmonious work environment could also lead to financial success in these fields.

Venus in the 7th House: Gains often come through partnerships, whether in marriage or business. You may benefit financially through a significant relationship or business collaboration, particularly with someone involved in luxury, legal fields, or the arts. Joint ventures in creative industries could be very profitable.

Venus in the 8th House: Wealth may come from inheritances, shared resources, or transformative industries. You might gain through an inheritance, or profit from partnerships in finance, psychology, or the arts. This placement can also suggest financial gains through investments or using other people’s assets effectively.

Venus in the 9th House: Financial success is connected to education, law, or travel, especially in beauty or luxury industries. You might earn through international fashion, tourism, or by teaching beauty-related subjects at a university. There’s also potential for profit from foreign investments or luxury travel enterprises.

Venus in the 10th House: Wealth comes from career success, public recognition, or artistic achievements. You might thrive in high-profile roles within the arts, luxury markets, or fashion industry. This placement is highly favorable for building wealth through a career in design, beauty, or entertainment.

Venus in the 11th House: Gains are tied to social networks, large organizations, or technology, particularly within the luxury or beauty sectors. You could profit from working in social media marketing or technology platforms related to fashion or beauty. Friendships and connections in elite circles may also lead to financial opportunities.

Venus in the 12th House: Profits come from behind-the-scenes work, foreign ventures, or spiritual and artistic pursuits. You might find financial success through working in luxury hotels or resorts abroad, or by being involved in art projects that promote beauty or tranquility. Investments in foreign luxury markets could also be rewarding.

𝐆𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

With Gemini ruling your eleventh house, your approach to financial gains is driven by intellect, communication, and adaptability. You may accumulate wealth through industries such as writing, media, technology, or education, where your ability to communicate ideas clearly and multitask proves invaluable. Social networks and friendships can be instrumental in your financial success, and you tend to thrive in environments where flexibility and quick thinking are required to stay ahead in an ever-evolving world.

Mercury in the Houses (Ruler of Gemini)

Mercury in the 1st House: Financial success comes from your personal communication skills, fast thinking, and intellectual pursuits. For example, you may achieve wealth as a public speaker, teacher, or writer, where your ability to express yourself clearly and think on your feet directly contributes to your success.

Mercury in the 2nd House: Wealth is generated through intellectual work, business, or trade, especially in fields involving communication or technology. You might find financial success by managing a tech startup, working in sales, or running a communications-based business, such as publishing or e-commerce.

Mercury in the 3rd House: Profits are tied to communication, writing, journalism, or short-distance travel. You could earn money as a journalist, blogger, or in public relations, using your communication skills to promote products, services, or ideas.

Mercury in the 4th House: You may gain wealth through real estate, family businesses, or intellectual work done from home. For example, running an online business, freelancing, or writing from home could be highly profitable. There is also potential for success in educational ventures related to real estate or family enterprises.

Mercury in the 5th House: Wealth can be accumulated through creative pursuits, entertainment, or speculative investments. You might succeed financially by writing screenplays, managing creative projects, or working in the entertainment industry. This placement also suggests potential gains from stock market investments or other speculative ventures.

Mercury in the 6th House: Profits come from service-oriented industries, health, or work involving communication or technology. For instance, you might find financial success working as a healthcare administrator, medical transcriptionist, or by managing digital solutions in the healthcare sector.

Mercury in the 7th House: Financial gains are often linked to partnerships, both personal and business, and intellectual collaborations. You may benefit by working with a business partner in legal, consulting, or writing fields. Marriage or partnerships in these industries may also bring financial advantages.

Mercury in the 8th House: Wealth is earned through joint ventures, inheritances, or industries that focus on transformation and finance. You might thrive in managing other people’s money, such as in financial planning or investments, or profit through publishing books on psychology or the occult.

Mercury in the 9th House: Profits come from teaching, law, travel, or publishing, especially on international platforms. For example, you might gain wealth by working as a professor, lawyer, or writer, particularly if your work involves education, international law, or travel blogging.

Mercury in the 10th House: Wealth is tied to career achievements, public speaking, or intellectual endeavors. You could succeed financially as a high-profile journalist, politician, or public speaker, where your communication skills and intellectual abilities propel your career forward.

Mercury in the 11th House: Gains are linked to social networks, technology, or large organizations, particularly those involving communication. You might profit by managing online platforms, social media businesses, or through connections with tech companies, where your ability to network and communicate pays off financially.

Mercury in the 12th House: Financial success comes from behind-the-scenes work, foreign ventures, or intellectual and spiritual pursuits. You might earn through research, spiritual writing, or working in foreign lands as a consultant or writer, especially on topics related to international affairs or spiritual matters.

𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

With Cancer ruling your eleventh house, your approach to financial gains is deeply influenced by emotional connections, nurturing relationships, and home-related ventures. You are likely to accumulate wealth through businesses that promote comfort, security, or caregiving, such as hospitality, food, real estate, or childcare. Your social networks and friendships often play a crucial role in your financial success, providing both emotional support and practical assistance.

Moon in the Houses (Ruler of Cancer)

Moon in the 1st House: Your financial gains are tied to self-driven efforts and emotional expression. For example, you might succeed by becoming a public figure in nurturing roles, such as a therapist, chef, or lifestyle coach, where you can connect with others through your emotions and personal brand.

Moon in the 2nd House: Wealth comes from a strong desire for financial security and possibly from family resources. You might accumulate wealth through real estate investments, family-run businesses, or careers related to food, home goods, or caregiving, such as owning a family restaurant or working in childcare.

Moon in the 3rd House: Profits arise through communication, media, or relationships within your local community. You might earn by writing about family, home life, or food, or through local ventures like running a café or bakery. Short-distance travel or involvement in local businesses can also bring financial success.

Moon in the 4th House: Gains are connected to family, real estate, or home-based businesses. You may profit from buying and selling properties, managing rentals, or running a business from home, such as interior design, home decor, or even a bed-and-breakfast.

Moon in the 5th House: Wealth comes from creative endeavors, children, or emotionally fulfilling projects. You could find financial success by working on projects related to children, such as writing children’s books or running a daycare. Speculative ventures, particularly those that resonate with family values, could also prove profitable.

Moon in the 6th House: Financial success is tied to service-oriented professions, health, or caregiving roles. You might earn money by working in healthcare, nutrition, or any field that involves caring for others, such as being a nurse, dietitian, or personal caregiver.

Moon in the 7th House: Wealth comes through partnerships, marriage, or collaborative ventures. You may benefit from a business partnership or marriage, particularly in caregiving or hospitality-related industries, such as real estate, family-owned businesses, or ventures focused on comfort and security.

Moon in the 8th House: Financial gains may come from inheritances, shared resources, or transformative industries. You could inherit family wealth or benefit from joint ventures in industries like psychology, emotional healing, or those dealing with death and transformation, such as funeral services.

Moon in the 9th House: Wealth arises from higher education, travel, or teaching in nurturing roles. You might profit from teaching caregiving or hospitality-related subjects, or by working in real estate or hospitality abroad. Writing or publishing on family, home, or caregiving topics can also bring financial rewards.

Moon in the 10th House: Your financial success is closely tied to career achievements in caregiving or public service roles. You might excel in public careers related to healthcare, food, or hospitality, such as managing a chain of hotels or leading a family business in the food or service industry.

Moon in the 11th House: Financial gains come through social networks, community involvement, or large organizations focused on caregiving and emotional well-being. You could profit by working in healthcare, social work, or community welfare organizations, or by leveraging supportive friendships and networks to create financial opportunities.

Moon in the 12th House: Profits are earned through behind-the-scenes work, foreign ventures, or roles involving emotional and spiritual healing. You might gain wealth by working in hospitals, spiritual retreats, or through caregiving roles in secluded settings like a hospice. Overseas ventures related to caregiving, or spiritual services, may also bring financial success.

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

With Leo ruling your eleventh house, you pursue financial gains with a sense of confidence, creativity, and a desire for recognition. Leadership roles, creative ventures, and public visibility are likely to be avenues for accumulating wealth. Your social networks can significantly influence your success, particularly when they involve influential or creative individuals. Your drive to express your individuality and stand out pushes you toward financial success, especially in areas where you can shine and take on prominent roles.

Sun in the Houses (Ruler of Leo)

Sun in the 1st House: Financial gains come through personal charisma, leadership, and self-promotion. You might achieve wealth by being the face of a business, becoming a public figure, or stepping into leadership roles where your confidence and presence attract opportunities—such as becoming an entrepreneur, actor, or leader in a visible field.

Sun in the 2nd House: Wealth is earned through personal assets, financial management, and a focus on material security. You could profit from investments in luxury goods, art, or jewelry, or by taking leadership roles in industries related to wealth management or high-end markets. Your focus on stability and value makes you financially successful.

Sun in the 3rd House: Profits arise through communication, media, and entrepreneurial ventures involving short-distance travel or education. You might gain wealth by working in media, public speaking, or by leading a business that focuses on writing, marketing, or teaching.

Sun in the 4th House: Wealth comes through real estate, family businesses, or home-related industries. You may accumulate wealth by managing property, working in real estate, or profiting from family enterprises. This placement also favors ventures focused on luxury home environments, such as interior design or property development.

Sun in the 5th House: Your financial success comes from creative endeavors, entertainment, or speculative investments. You could thrive in careers involving acting, performing, or creating luxury goods. Additionally, speculative markets like stocks or investments in industries related to children, education, or entertainment could lead to wealth.

Sun in the 6th House: Wealth is gained through service-oriented professions, health industries, or leadership in daily work routines. You might find financial success by managing teams in healthcare, leading service industries, or excelling in high-profile positions that involve helping others, such as fitness or wellness management.

Sun in the 7th House: Gains come through partnerships, marriage, or collaborative business ventures. You may accumulate wealth through a significant partnership, whether in marriage or business, especially in high-profile fields like law, entertainment, or public relations. Taking a leadership role in joint ventures can also be a path to financial success.

Sun in the 8th House: Wealth may come from joint ventures, inheritances, or transformative industries. You could gain financially through family inheritance or by working in fields such as psychology, investments, or life-transition industries like insurance, counseling, or financial planning.

Sun in the 9th House: Profits arise from teaching, travel, law, or publishing, particularly in high-profile or international roles. You may gain wealth as a well-known educator, lawyer, or author. Opportunities in travel or working within global industries, such as luxury tourism or international business, can also lead to financial success.

Sun in the 10th House: Financial success is linked to career achievements, leadership roles, and public authority. You could become wealthy by taking on leadership positions in large corporations, government, or entertainment industries. Public recognition and respect for your work often translate into financial rewards.

Sun in the 11th House: Wealth comes from social networks, large organizations, or technology. You could profit from networking with influential individuals or working in large corporations or tech-based industries. This placement is ideal for standing out and taking leadership roles in media, technology, or large organizations.

Sun in the 12th House: Financial gains are achieved through behind-the-scenes work, foreign ventures, or spiritual and creative pursuits. You might build wealth by working in secluded settings such as hospitals, spiritual retreats, or foreign countries. Creative projects related to introspection, art, or spirituality can also be sources of financial success.

𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐨 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

With Virgo ruling your eleventh house, your approach to financial gains is practical, detail-oriented, and focused on efficiency. You are likely to accumulate wealth through work related to service, health, research, or intellectual pursuits. Success comes from refining systems, improving processes, and maintaining a methodical approach to your goals. Your social networks tend to be composed of hardworking, dedicated individuals who share your values. Your ability to analyze, organize, and solve problems ensures steady and sustainable financial growth over time.

Mercury in the Houses (ruler of Virgo)

Mercury in the 1st House: Financial gains come through your intelligence, communication skills, and self-promotion. For example, you might find success by using your analytical mind and problem-solving abilities in fields like consulting, writing, or teaching, where you can establish yourself as an expert.

Mercury in the 2nd House: Wealth is earned through intellectual work, business, or fields involving communication. You may thrive in careers such as accounting, bookkeeping, or managing small businesses, where attention to detail and financial management skills are crucial to your success.

Mercury in the 3rd House: Profits arise from writing, media, communication, or local businesses. You could earn by working as a journalist, editor, or teacher, or through running a local business. Communication-based work, such as starting a blog focused on health, wellness, or practical advice, may also be profitable.

Mercury in the 4th House: Gains are linked to home-based businesses, family enterprises, or real estate. You might succeed by running a family business, working from home as a consultant, or investing in property. This placement also favors careers in home improvement services or real estate management.

Mercury in the 5th House: Wealth comes from creative projects, education, or speculative ventures. You could achieve financial success by working in children's education, teaching, or coaching. Alternatively, you might profit from creative writing or speculative investments like the stock market or gambling.

Mercury in the 6th House: Profits are earned through health-related fields, service-oriented work, or administrative roles. You could find financial success by working in healthcare management, as a nutritionist, or in wellness-related industries, where your organizational skills and attention to detail are vital assets.

Mercury in the 7th House: Wealth comes through partnerships, collaborations, or legal work. You may benefit from working with a business partner on intellectual ventures, writing contracts, or consulting in fields like mediation, counseling, or legal advice.

Mercury in the 8th House: Financial gains are tied to joint ventures, investments, or transformative industries. You might earn through financial planning, investment management, or by working in research, psychology, or therapeutic industries that focus on personal or financial transformation.

Mercury in the 9th House: Profits arise from teaching, travel, law, or publishing. You might find success in education, international business, or travel-related industries, such as becoming a travel blogger. Writing or publishing, especially on academic or philosophical topics, can also lead to wealth.

Mercury in the 10th House: Wealth is linked to career achievements in intellectual or communication-driven roles. You could thrive in high-level administrative positions, corporate communication roles, or as an expert consultant in your chosen field, where your intellect and organizational abilities shine.

Mercury in the 11th House: Gains come from social networks, technology, or large organizations. You might profit from working in tech, analytics, or science-based industries, or by leveraging a large network of business or intellectual connections to create financial opportunities.

Mercury in the 12th House: Financial success comes from behind-the-scenes work, foreign ventures, or research. You could earn by working in secluded environments like hospitals or research institutions, or through intellectual pursuits abroad, such as becoming a translator, international consultant, or academic researcher.

𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

With Libra ruling your eleventh house, your approach to financial gains is driven by balance, harmony, and social relationships. You may accumulate wealth through collaborations, partnerships, and connections in fields related to beauty, art, law, or diplomacy. Your friendships and social networks are essential to your financial success, often helping you form important alliances. Creating peace and harmony in group settings or within partnerships is likely to open doors for lucrative opportunities.

Venus in the Houses (ruler of Libra)

Venus in the 1st House: Financial gains come through your personal charm, appearance, and social appeal. For instance, you might succeed in industries like fashion, beauty, or public relations, where your ability to present yourself in an attractive and harmonious manner brings lucrative opportunities.

Venus in the 2nd House: Wealth is earned through luxury goods, aesthetics, or careful financial management. You might thrive by working in the fashion industry, running a high-end boutique, or managing a jewelry business. Your appreciation for beauty and material comfort will likely guide you toward financial success.

Venus in the 3rd House: Profits arise through communication, media, or education, especially in artistic fields. You could gain financially by writing about beauty, fashion, or relationships, or by working in advertising, public relations, or media. Your ability to communicate artistic or aesthetic ideas effectively leads to financial gains.

Venus in the 4th House: Gains come from real estate, family businesses, or ventures related to home and beauty. You might profit from interior design, property management, or home-based beauty services. Family wealth or engaging in industries that enhance comfort and beauty within domestic spaces can also contribute to your financial success.

Venus in the 5th House: Wealth is generated through creative endeavors, entertainment, or speculative ventures. You might succeed in the arts, acting, or through performing. Additionally, investments in luxury or fashion-related industries may bring financial rewards. Romantic partnerships or ventures involving children could also be lucrative.

Venus in the 6th House: Profits come from service-oriented work, health, or beauty industries. You may earn by working in wellness, fashion, or beauty services, such as being a beautician, personal stylist, or running a health spa. Your ability to create harmonious environments in the workplace will further boost your income.

Venus in the 7th House: Gains come through partnerships, marriage, or legal work. You might profit from a marriage or business partnership, especially in beauty, law, or fashion. Collaborative ventures in fields like wedding planning, relationship counseling, or law could lead to significant financial gains.

Venus in the 8th House: Wealth comes from inheritances, joint ventures, or industries focused on transformation. You might gain through shared resources, marriage, or by working in financial planning or psychology. Joint investments, luxury services, or industries like cosmetic surgery could also lead to financial success.

Venus in the 9th House: Profits arise from teaching, travel, law, or publishing, particularly in areas related to beauty or relationships. You might earn money by teaching or writing about relationships, law, or artistic topics. Businesses involving luxury travel or beauty tourism may also be highly profitable.

Venus in the 10th House: Wealth comes from career achievements in the public sphere, particularly in beauty, law, or the arts. You could thrive by holding a prominent position in the fashion or beauty industry, or as a public figure in law, diplomacy, or entertainment. Public recognition for your work in aesthetic fields will likely lead to financial success.

Venus in the 11th House: Gains come through social networks, large organizations, or technology, particularly in fields related to beauty or luxury. You might profit by working in fashion technology, social media marketing, or through influential friends in high-end sectors. Networking with creative professionals can introduce lucrative opportunities.

Venus in the 12th House: Financial success comes from behind-the-scenes work, foreign lands, or spiritual and artistic endeavors. You might earn wealth by working in luxury hotels, wellness retreats, or through charitable work that promotes beauty and harmony. Artistic projects in secluded environments or abroad could also bring financial rewards.

𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐨 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

With Scorpio ruling the eleventh house, your approach to financial gains is strategic, intense, and often transformative. You tend to accumulate wealth through deep emotional relationships, joint ventures, or industries tied to finance, psychology, and transformation. Your social networks are likely to include powerful and influential individuals, and you may leverage these connections to access hidden resources or manage shared assets. Your determination and ability to navigate complex situations help you achieve long-term financial success.

Mars in the Houses (ruler of Scorpio)

Mars in the 1st House: Financial gains come through your personal drive, ambition, and assertive actions. You may accumulate wealth by starting your own business, taking on leadership roles, or working in high-energy fields like sports, fitness, or entrepreneurship, where quick decision-making and initiative are key.

Mars in the 2nd House: Wealth is earned through physical assets, assertive financial management, or industries tied to material goods. You might gain by investing in real estate, working in property management, or industries related to construction or metals. Your proactive approach to financial matters ensures solid material growth.

Mars in the 3rd House: Profits arise from communication, writing, or media-related ventures. You might build wealth by working in journalism, marketing, or running a media company. Quick thinking and direct communication are your assets, and industries like sales or short-term travel can also lead to financial success.

Mars in the 4th House: Financial success comes through real estate, family inheritances, or home-based businesses. You might accumulate wealth by investing in property, renovating homes, or managing a family business. Ventures related to real estate or home improvements, such as house flipping, can prove highly profitable.

Mars in the 5th House: Wealth comes from creative ventures, speculative investments, or entertainment industries. You could succeed as an actor, director, or in any creative field, especially those involving risk, like the stock market or cryptocurrency. Your willingness to take calculated risks could lead to significant financial rewards.

Mars in the 6th House: Profits come from service-oriented professions, health fields, or competitive industries. You may achieve financial success in healthcare as a surgeon or physical trainer, or by excelling in competitive environments like law, the military, or corporate sectors. Your perseverance and work ethic lead to consistent financial gains.

Mars in the 7th House: Financial gains are tied to partnerships, alliances, or marriage. You might profit from a strategic business partnership in fields like law, finance, or consulting. Alternatively, wealth may come through marriage, particularly if your partner works in a high-energy or competitive industry.

Mars in the 8th House: Wealth comes from joint ventures, inheritances, or industries focused on transformation. You could build financial success by managing other people’s resources in roles like investment banking, financial planning, or insurance. Inheritance or working in fields like psychology, healing, or transformative services could also bring wealth.

Mars in the 9th House: Profits arise from teaching, law, international business, or travel-related industries. You might gain by working as a professor, lawyer, or through international business ventures. Travel, foreign investments, or industries like adventure tourism or higher education can also be financially rewarding.

Mars in the 10th House: Wealth is tied to career achievements, public recognition, and leadership roles. You may achieve financial success by leading large organizations or taking on prominent roles in competitive fields like finance, military, or government. Your ambition and determination push you toward the top, where financial rewards follow.

Mars in the 11th House: Gains come through social networks, large organizations, or collective ventures. You might profit by working in technology, finance, or large-scale enterprises. Your ability to network within influential circles and lead group initiatives opens up significant financial opportunities.

Mars in the 12th House: Financial success comes from behind-the-scenes work, foreign investments, or industries related to healing and spirituality. You could build wealth by working in hospitals, prisons, or spiritual retreats. Investments abroad or in transformative fields, such as therapy or hidden resources, could also be lucrative.

𝐒𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

With Sagittarius ruling your eleventh house, your approach to financial gains is characterized by expansiveness, optimism, and a focus on growth, higher learning, and adventure. Wealth may come from teaching, international business, publishing, law, or travel-related endeavors. Your social circles are broad and diverse, often including individuals from various cultural and intellectual backgrounds. Financial success is likely to come by embracing opportunities that involve exploration, education, or philosophical pursuits, allowing you to expand your horizons.

Jupiter in the Houses (ruler of Sagittarius)

Jupiter in the 1st House: Gains come through personal charisma, leadership, and an optimistic outlook. Example: You could achieve wealth as a teacher, motivational speaker, or entrepreneur, where your confidence and expansive nature draw financial opportunities. Your leadership abilities and ability to inspire others help you attract success.

Jupiter in the 2nd House: Wealth is earned through investments, teaching, or industries tied to higher learning and travel. Example: You might accumulate wealth through international trade, real estate investments abroad, or by working in education, such as owning language schools or cultural institutions. Your ability to manage resources with a long-term perspective is key to your success.

Jupiter in the 3rd House: Profits arise from communication, writing, media, or short-distance travel, often connected to educational or philosophical topics. Example: You could earn by publishing books on travel, education, or philosophy, or by working in media that promotes intellectual growth. Local teaching ventures, educational tours, or creating content that inspires learning may also bring wealth.

Jupiter in the 4th House: Gains come from real estate, family businesses, or educational ventures related to the home. Example: You might profit from real estate investments, especially in culturally significant properties, or by running a family business involving education, such as homeschooling consulting or online educational programs.

Jupiter in the 5th House: Wealth is derived from creative pursuits, teaching, or speculative investments in educational or intellectual ventures. Example: You could build wealth by running educational programs for children, teaching creative subjects, or investing in entertainment or intellectual property. Your ability to inspire others through your creativity often leads to financial rewards.

Jupiter in the 6th House: Profits come through service industries, health, or teaching, particularly in educational or travel-related fields. Example: You might earn by teaching at universities, managing educational institutions, or working in healthcare sectors with an emphasis on wellness and travel, such as retreats or international health services.

Jupiter in the 7th House: Gains come through partnerships, collaborations, or legal work, especially in international or educational fields. Example: You could profit from a business or legal partnership that deals with international law, education, or foreign investments. Collaborative ventures that focus on growth, expansion, and global reach lead to significant financial success.

Jupiter in the 8th House: Wealth comes from joint ventures, inheritances, or transformation-based industries like finance or psychology. Example: You might gain financially through shared resources, investments, or inheritances. Working in transformative fields, such as financial planning, educational funding, or psychological counseling, could also bring wealth.

Jupiter in the 9th House: Profits arise from teaching, law, travel, or publishing, particularly in global or philosophical fields. Example: You might earn wealth as a professor, lawyer, or travel consultant. International business ventures, such as starting an educational travel company or publishing books on philosophy, could lead to significant financial success.

Jupiter in the 10th House: Wealth is tied to career achievements, public leadership, and authority in fields related to education, law, or travel. Example: You could gain wealth through high-profile roles in education, law, or as a public figure in global initiatives. Leadership in international business or educational reform could result in substantial financial rewards.

Jupiter in the 11th House: Gains come through social networks, large organizations, or technology, especially in education or travel. Example: You might profit by working with large educational or travel organizations, or by networking in intellectual and global circles. Involvement in global educational programs or travel technology startups could bring financial success.

Jupiter in the 12th House: Profits come from behind-the-scenes work, foreign lands, or spiritual and intellectual pursuits. Example: You might gain wealth by working in spiritual retreats, universities abroad, or industries related to foreign investments or educational ventures. Teaching or consulting in secluded or spiritual environments can also be lucrative, particularly in roles that focus on personal growth or spirituality.

𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

With Capricorn ruling your eleventh house, you take a disciplined, methodical approach to achieving financial gains, often focusing on long-term planning, hard work, and responsibility. Financial success may come through structured industries like business, government, real estate, or leadership roles. Your social networks are likely to include influential or authoritative figures, and you may achieve wealth by aligning yourself with institutions or steadily advancing within your chosen field. You are driven by the desire for stability, and your success often stems from careful, strategic efforts.

Saturn in the Houses (ruler of Capricorn)

Saturn in the 1st House: Financial gains come through personal discipline, leadership, and perseverance. Example: You might achieve wealth by taking on leadership roles where your reputation and hard work are essential. Becoming a CEO or rising in a field that values responsibility and structure could lead to long-term financial success.

Saturn in the 2nd House: Wealth is earned through careful financial planning, savings, and long-term investments. Example: You may accumulate wealth through cautious investments in real estate or by working in finance, accountancy, or banking. Your disciplined approach to managing money ensures steady financial rewards over time.

Saturn in the 3rd House: Profits arise from communication, writing, or media ventures that require discipline and long-term effort. Example: You might earn by working in publishing, journalism, or technical writing. Success in these fields comes from years of consistent effort and attention to detail, with financial rewards building slowly over time.

Saturn in the 4th House: Gains come through real estate, family businesses, or property-related investments. Example: You could profit by investing in real estate or managing family assets. Building wealth through property or home-based businesses, with a focus on long-term growth, can lead to financial security.

Saturn in the 5th House: Wealth is generated through creative endeavors, speculative investments, or education-related ventures. Example: You might earn by working in industries like film production, education management, or through long-term investments in stocks or real estate. Your structured approach to creative projects or speculative ventures ensures sustainable financial growth.

Saturn in the 6th House: Profits come from service-oriented industries, health, or disciplined work routines. Example: You may gain wealth by working in healthcare management, legal services, or in careers where service, structure, and discipline are essential, such as HR or law enforcement. Consistent work in these fields can lead to long-term financial success.

Saturn in the 7th House: Financial gains come through partnerships, business alliances, or legal work, often developed over time. Example: You could profit from long-term business partnerships or legal agreements in structured fields like law, real estate, or corporate business. Marrying a successful partner in a traditional field might also bring financial benefits.

Saturn in the 8th House: Wealth comes through joint ventures, inheritances, or managing shared resources. Example: You may achieve financial success by managing other people’s money or assets, working in fields like banking, finance, or insurance. Carefully handling joint ventures or family inheritances can also lead to long-term wealth.

Saturn in the 9th House: Profits arise from teaching, law, publishing, or international business, especially in structured fields. Example: You could earn wealth by building a career in academia, law, or international trade. Long-term involvement in publishing or large educational institutions, such as universities or think tanks, can also bring financial success.

Saturn in the 10th House: Wealth comes from career achievements, leadership roles, and authority in large organizations. Example: You may achieve financial success by steadily climbing the corporate ladder or taking leadership roles in business, government, or large institutions. Your dedication to long-term career goals brings substantial financial rewards.

Saturn in the 11th House: Financial gains come through social networks, large organizations, or collective efforts, often tied to responsibility and long-term planning. Example: You could profit by working in industries like technology or finance, where your network connects you to influential individuals and organizations. Building wealth through large companies, NGOs, or group ventures focused on long-term goals is a viable path.

Saturn in the 12th House: Wealth comes from behind-the-scenes work, foreign lands, or industries related to healing and institutions. Example: You might gain wealth by working in hospitals, prisons, or charitable organizations, particularly in roles that require discipline and structure. Long-term investments abroad or work in secluded environments may also bring financial success.

𝐀𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

With Aquarius ruling your eleventh house, your approach to financial gains is innovative, forward-thinking, and often tied to collective efforts, large organizations, or social causes. You are likely to accumulate wealth through long-term planning in industries such as technology, social reform, or intellectual pursuits. Your social networks, friendships, and collaborations are key to your financial success, and you may benefit from working within groups or organizations that focus on future growth or humanitarian efforts.

Saturn in the Houses (ruler of Aquarius)

Saturn in the 1st House: Financial gains come through personal discipline, leadership, and a structured approach to self-development. Example: You might achieve wealth by assuming leadership roles in technology, science, or social reform, where steady, long-term effort and responsibility are rewarded. Your ability to remain methodical and patient leads to financial success in these fields.

Saturn in the 2nd House: Wealth is accumulated through careful financial planning, long-term investments, and a conservative approach to resources. Example: You could gain wealth through disciplined investments in real estate, technology, or infrastructure. A patient approach to saving and building resources slowly will lead to significant financial stability over time.

Saturn in the 3rd House: Profits arise from communication, media, or tech-related industries that require perseverance and long-term effort. Example: You might earn by working in journalism, media production, or education, particularly in technical or innovative subjects. Careers in writing, teaching, or media focused on technology or social progress could lead to financial rewards after years of hard work.

Saturn in the 4th House: Gains come from real estate, family businesses, or property management, emphasizing long-term stability. Example: You could profit from managing family properties, investing in real estate, or working in property management or construction. Your disciplined and structured approach to building assets will create long-term financial stability through real estate.

Saturn in the 5th House: Wealth comes from creative endeavors, speculative investments, or education, achieved through slow and disciplined effort. Example: You may find financial success in structured creative fields, such as directing films, or by making well-researched investments in stocks or real estate. Your methodical approach to speculative ventures pays off in the long run.

Saturn in the 6th House: Profits come from service-oriented professions, health, or routine work, particularly in tech or efficiency-driven industries. Example: You could earn by managing teams in healthcare or technology, or by working in fields like IT or engineering. Your disciplined approach to work and service ensures financial stability, especially in industries focused on innovation and progress.

Saturn in the 7th House: Gains come through partnerships, business alliances, or legal work, particularly in tech, law, or structured industries. Example: You might gain wealth through a business partnership in fields like technology, law, or social reform. Long-term collaborations or marrying a partner in a structured industry may also bring financial benefits.

Saturn in the 8th House: Wealth comes from joint ventures, inheritances, or managing shared resources. Example: You may accumulate wealth by managing other people’s money, such as in banking, finance, or insurance. Careful and long-term planning in joint financial ventures or through inheritances can lead to financial success.

Saturn in the 9th House: Profits arise from teaching, law, travel, or publishing, particularly in intellectual or technology-related fields. Example: You could earn wealth as a professor, lawyer, or through publishing work related to science, technology, or social structures. Long-term ventures in international business or higher education will also lead to financial success.

Saturn in the 10th House: Wealth is tied to career achievements in leadership roles, especially in large organizations or government. Example: You might achieve financial success by rising to leadership positions in large corporations, tech companies, or governmental institutions. Your disciplined and steady approach to career advancement ensures significant rewards over time.

Saturn in the 11th House: Gains come from social networks, large organizations, or collective ventures, especially those focused on innovation or social progress. Example: You might profit from working with large organizations or humanitarian groups, or by leveraging your connections with influential people in tech or social causes. Long-term involvement in collective projects will bring financial stability and success.

Saturn in the 12th House: Profits come through behind-the-scenes work, foreign lands, or industries related to healing or institutional work. Example: You may gain wealth by working in hospitals, prisons, or charitable organizations, particularly in administrative or managerial roles. Long-term investments in foreign markets or work abroad in institutional settings can also lead to financial success.

𝐏𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

With Pisces ruling your eleventh house, your approach to financial gains is intuitive, creative, and often tied to spiritual or imaginative endeavors. You may find success in artistic ventures, healing professions, or charitable work, and industries related to water, spirituality, or creativity may also be sources of wealth. You tend to follow your inner vision, and your empathetic and spiritually inclined social networks can help guide you toward success. Your wealth is likely to be linked to your ability to dream big and connect with higher ideals.

Jupiter in the Houses (ruler of Pisces)

Jupiter in the 1st House: Financial gains come through personal growth, optimism, and leadership in creative or spiritual fields. Example: You might achieve wealth through public speaking, coaching, or becoming a spiritual leader. Your expansive personality and ability to inspire others can open up financial opportunities in creative or spiritual ventures.

Jupiter in the 2nd House: Wealth is earned through investments, teaching, or industries related to spirituality, healing, or creativity. Example: You could gain financially by working in wellness, holistic health, or education, with investments in art, music, or spiritual projects providing long-term financial rewards.

Jupiter in the 3rd House: Profits arise from communication, writing, or media ventures with a focus on creative or spiritual themes. Example: You may earn by writing books on spirituality or creativity, or by running a blog, podcast, or media platform that explores healing, the arts, or personal growth.

Jupiter in the 4th House: Gains come from real estate, family businesses, or ventures related to spirituality or healing at home. Example: You might profit from running a spiritual retreat, yoga studio, or investing in peaceful real estate that promotes healing and well-being. Holistic home businesses could also bring financial success.

Jupiter in the 5th House: Wealth is derived from creative endeavors, entertainment, or speculative investments, especially in the arts or spiritual education. Example: You could succeed financially by working in entertainment, acting, or teaching creative arts. Investments in artistic or spiritual ventures, such as music, film, or alternative education, may also be rewarding.

Jupiter in the 6th House: Profits come through service-oriented professions, health, or routine work, especially in healing, spiritual, or creative fields. Example: You may gain wealth by working as a healer, counselor, or wellness practitioner. Managing spiritual retreats, health clinics, or creative workspaces could bring steady financial growth over time.

Jupiter in the 7th House: Gains are achieved through partnerships, collaborations, or legal work, particularly in spiritual, creative, or healing industries. Example: You could profit from collaborating with a partner in a spiritual business or healing center. A marriage or partnership with someone in these fields might also bring financial success through shared ventures.

Jupiter in the 8th House: Wealth comes through joint ventures, inheritances, or industries related to finance, psychology, or spiritual transformation. Example: You could accumulate wealth by managing other people’s money or working in investment banking, or by running a business focused on psychology, healing, or esoteric practices. Inheritances or shared resources may also play a significant role in your financial success.

Jupiter in the 9th House: Profits arise from teaching, law, travel, or publishing, particularly in spiritual or creative fields. Example: You might earn wealth as a professor of spirituality or philosophy, or by writing and publishing books on creativity, personal growth, or spiritual topics. International work or teaching in foreign countries could also bring financial success.

Jupiter in the 10th House: Wealth comes from career achievements in leadership roles related to spirituality, creativity, or healing professions. Example: You may gain wealth by becoming a spiritual leader, motivational speaker, or public figure in the arts. Running a successful business or organization in healing, creativity, or spirituality can lead to long-term financial success.

Jupiter in the 11th House: Gains come through social networks, large organizations, or collective ventures involving spirituality, creativity, or humanitarian work. Example: You might profit from working with charitable organizations, creative collectives, or spiritual groups. Networking with individuals in the arts, healing, or spiritual communities will open up financial opportunities for you.

Jupiter in the 12th House: Profits come from behind-the-scenes work, foreign lands, or industries related to spirituality, healing, or charitable work. Example: You could gain wealth by working in hospitals, spiritual retreats, or other healing institutions, or through international work related to healing and spirituality. Long-term involvement in charitable work or esoteric fields could bring significant financial rewards.

Masterlist

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