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silence-burns · 11 months ago

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The Death of Me //part 1

Fandom: Aquaman

Summary: (very small spoilers for the movie) Finding Orm on your doorstep was not something you expected. Having him move in was even worse. But the effect he still had on every part of your life would be the death of you.

The sun was blinding, but unfortunately, not enough to make the man standing before you disappear.

“You're in surprisingly good shape for a dead person,” you said.

“And you look terrible for someone supposedly alive,” said Orm.

You shrugged and immediately regretted it. The tight bandages keeping your shoulder in place worked as a poor reminder it was out of commission for the next few weeks.

“How I've missed that princely charm. Piss me off some more and, half-dead or not, I'm gonna kick your ass back into that desert I got it from. It might be the last thing I do, but if I become a ghost, I'll brag about it for eternity.”

Your mood soured further with every minute you remained conscious. Surprises and resurrections, you could deal with, but your ability to be polite left long ago. There were a lot of impolite and certainly unprincely words bubbling in your chest, but they all disappeared when the most magical, impossible, and straight-out-of-fairy-tales thing happened.

Orm, of his own volition, smiled.

The sun was still doing its best to blind your already red and swollen eyes—it failed yet again. You examined the strange occurrence, with the furrowed brows and all the small wrinkles and tiny folds in the skin that usually accompanied a person’s smile looking perfectly normal on his face. It was a genuine smile. You could only blink at him for a moment

“I thought scowling was the only expression you had. Like a factory setting, you know.”

“I'm glad to hear you are as sharp as ever, despite your current shortcomings.”

“Excuse you, I'm in great shape.”

The man in front of you politely didn't argue. It was rather clear from his expression that he had some serious doubts about not only the state of your body, but also about your mental capacity of acknowledging said state, but he made the wise choice of keeping these thoughts to himself.

Wise was your middle name; therefore, you allowed the silence to confirm your words. At the same time, you shifted more of your weight against the doorframe, hoping your grimace came across as menacing rather than painful. Your leg needed a bit of rest, nothing serious. It totally wasn’t almost crushed to pieces a few weeks ago.

The smile on Orm’s face, an expression you could get used to seeing, started to shift into a look of concern as he watched your eyes. You looked away, afraid of how much he could see. Before you could react, he picked you up and carried you inside the house.

It was a pretty house, very spacious, just like old rich men tended to enjoy—which might explain why Batman bought it a long time ago as a safehouse far from any prying eyes, and why he allowed you to occasionally use it as such.

Yet, despite all the initial spaciousness, it was rather easy to clutter if the person living inside had a few cracked bones, general lack of energy to move, and never invited anyone around to see the mess.

Orm raised an eyebrow when he noticed a sofa dragged into the kitchen area and the amount of empty, crushed packaging laying around it. You hated how much could be expressed without saying a word.

“Put me down.”

Your words came out weaker than intended. Orm held you in a bridal carry which put immense pressure on your cracked ribs and sent flashes of pain every time you inhaled. But he was so warm and close that your anger sizzled and faded.

With your head on his shoulder, you had the perfect view of his perfect profile and the perfect frown deepening the wrinkles between his brows.

“So, this is how you live now?” was all he said, in a controlled tone.

“I know you're not deaf and heard me the first time. Put me down. Preferably on my beautiful and completely normal kitchen bed, thank you.”

You sighed with relief once he finally listened. Even though the pressure of his arms around you disappeared, somehow you still felt his warmth, as if it seeped into your battered, bruised flesh. You felt your face getting hot and decided against following that train of thought.

Your heart, for a reason you also chose to ignore, skipped a beat when Orm turned on his heel and walked back to the front door. It took him comparatively less time than when you had to drag your ass to open it a few minutes ago.

But rather than walking outside and disappearing from your life again, Orm only closed the door. And then turned the lock too.

“I don’t like where this is going,” you said, in vain hope that all of this was just a bad dream you'd soon wake up from.

“What a shame,” Orm said with no shame whatsoever in his voice.

“Why are you here? I might be a little late with that question, but I'd still love to know the answer.”

Orm took measured steps to the kitchen table, assessing the seat with the least amount of trash surrounding it, and sat down. He sat upright, posture uncompromised in the face of a backless stool, and folded his hands on the table. How he looked royal surrounded by trash and cold leftovers was beyond you.

“As you have witnessed, thanks to Arthur, after that final battle I got a way out of my old life. I enjoyed it for the most part, and even wandered the surface world for a while. And then I heard about your accident and came to settle my debts.”

“You don't have a debt to me.”

“When I was awaiting sentencing for my crimes, you were the one that took care of me. And not so long ago, you helped Artur break me out of that prison. That alone guarantees my utmost respect.”

“Your debt is paid, you owe me nothing.”

“That's not how it works.”

“I don't need a nurse, especially one who isn’t wearing a sexy costume.”

“I'm afraid that part is not negotiable.”

“Wait.” You squinted, doing your best to focus your thoughts despite a rising migraine. “This cottage is in the middle of nowhere, with the nearest town a few hours on foot and only if you already know the way. And the only people that knew I got… a little roughed up, were those in the Justice League. Did Artur give you a ride here because he felt guilty he didn’t stop that building in Venice from falling on me?”

“Every day I am thankful that I don't know the inner workings of my brother’s mind.”

“So he did.”

You let your head fall back onto the makeshift kitchen-bed. It was too much for you.

You grabbed the pills from your secret under-the-pillow stash of meds and swallowed some painkillers.

“I'm going to kill your brother.”

“May you have more luck than I did. Now, do you even own any clean clothes?”

#orm marius x reader #orm x reader #aquaman orm x reader #orm x you #orm marius #aquaman imagine #aquaman orm #the death of me #aquaman the lost kingdom

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honkytonk-hangman · 3 months ago

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Water Like a Stone (3/?)

[Orm Marius x Reader]

Summary: Exiled on land and taken in by Tom Curry at the Lighthouse, Orm is introduced to family friend and Marine Park Ranger Grace, a woman unafraid of swimming with sharks and whose job it is to care for the Amnesty coastline... How is he not to adore her.

Warnings: Language, sexual references, mentions of almost drowning? Reader is named, but it shouldn't come up too often, it just makes it easier to write xxx

Notes: This is set post The Lost Kingdom, and is a slight AU given that in this story Atlantis hasn't yet come forward to the world. This is my first time writing for Orm, I hope you enjoy it!! TY to @hangmanssunnies you are my ROCK!!!!!!!

Word Count: 5.5k

Arthur grins at Orm from across the room. Orm, for his part, ignores him.

“Grace’s really got you domesticated, huh?” he says, grinning wider when the seal pup in his brother’s arms fusses, and Orm shushes her. The blond looks up at his brother, and glares.

“Stop disturbing her, she’s meant to be feeding,” he scolds, turning back to the pup swaddled in his arms like a baby. He adjusts the bottle in his fingers.

“You know, when dad asked me if we had any leftover baby bottles, I was hoping that meant Junior would be getting a playmate,” Arthur tells him jovially.

Orm looks up at him sharply, and frowns.

“He does have a playmate. Mimi,” he nods at the seal in his arms, her round little body nestled in a towel. Arthur chortles, and nods.

“Yeah, she’s definitely a friendly little thing. Who came up with ‘Mimi’, anyway?” Arthur asks, his voice giving away how ridiculous he found the name. Orm straightens some and fixes his brother with a stern look.

“Grace did,” he tells him, his tone even, as if to let his brother know that he’s ready to defend your choice should he have more to say.

Arthur puts his hands up as if in surrender, but he snickers still.

“Mimi,” he says under his breath. Orm ignores him, and focuses on Mimi again as she finishes off the bottle in his hand, and wiggles impatiently.

“There, perhaps that will stop your mewling,” Orm faux complains, readying himself to plop the seal back on the ground when Arthur starts.

“What are you doing man? You have to burp her!”

Orm looks at his brother with a squint, his lips pursing.

“She’s a seal, she does not need to be ‘burped’,” he argues back, but Arthur is already standing, already in front of him, and already holding out his hands. Orm frowns up at him, and hesitates, but before he can make any choice, Arthur has leant down and plucked the pup from his hands. Orm watches as his brother adjusts the towel to hang over his shoulder, manoeuvring Mimi to rest against it.

He pats her back gently, even as the brat continues to wiggle. Orm stands too, unsure of himself, and wishing to be at hand should Mimi require freeing from his brother’s clutches, but before he can ask Arthur to place her down, she lets out a tiny, hearty little belch.

Orm and Arthur stare at one another. They both open their mouths, but neither gets to speak as a creaking from the doorway catches both their attention and they turn to find Tom, phone camera raised.

“Smile!” Tom says.

Arthur grins wide and gives a thumbs up. Orm frowns. The picture is taken and Orm blinks hurriedly, but turns back to Arthur and takes the seal from him, letting her down to scoot her way over to curl around Tom’s feet and bonk her head against his shins. “Now if you two are done getting on each other's nerves, help me bring the groceries in.”

The brothers comply in relatively friendly silence, making their way out to the car, where the trunk has already been opened. Mimi follows, and only manages to get under their feet once or twice, which is the best Orm could ask for, still, he smiles a little when Arthur almost trips. He accepts two heavy bags from his brother, but finds even though he turned to leave first, Arthur has fallen into step beside him quickly anyway.

“So…” Arthur begins, adjusting a package of toilet paper under arm. “How is Grace?” he asks. Orm sniffs a little, but relaxes himself almost immediately. Despite all evidence, he knows Arthur isn’t trying to get under his skin. The teasing is to be expected, natural even, but he calms, knowing Arthur does not ask for any reason other than to be pleasant.

“She is well,” Orm tells him, and oddly finds that contrary to his natural way of keeping his private affairs private, it isn’t hard for him to want to gush about you. “We have been in one another’s company for two months now,” he goes on, pausing for a moment before continuing. “I believe she is happy.”

Arthur, despite the bags in his hands, and the package under his arm, somehow manages to clap him on the shoulder.

“That’s sick, bro. Grace is great, you deserve somebody like that.”

Orm hums, unsure how to respond to that statement.

“Hey, did she ever tell you we went on a date once?” Arthur asks then, more mischief in his voice than before. Orm smiles, a little wickedly, but he looks over at his brother and nods.

“Oh, yes. She did not speak very highly of it,” Orm tells him as they ascend the steps and enter the kitchen door.

“What? Man, come on,” Arthur complains, but is quickly directed by their mother to place the bags on the table, and stow the toilet paper in the laundry.

“Atlanna tells me you gifted Grace a necklace the other day,” Mera lights up when she sees Orm. She stands by the windows, Junior perched on her hip and she bounces him ever so slightly. Orm passes by her to deposit his own bags, and side eyes her evenly as he does.

“I do not remember asking my mother to share such information,” he says pointedly, a little louder than necessary so that his mother, who had busied herself in the pantry can hear. As he passes Mera once more, he uses one of his now free hands to smooth over the top of Junior’s hair.

At the boy's soft little cooing, Orm stops, and raises his other hand so that he may cup Junior’s cheeks, chubby, and pink, and briefly mush them gently. Junior lets out a soft squeal and kicks his feet, using his fat little fingers to grasp and curl around Orm’s own hands. Pulling away, Junior fumbles to stay latched on to his uncle’s pointer, to which Orm shakes it faux warningly in his direction.

“Does she even know what that means?” Arthur asks then, reappearing from the laundry with a slight frown. Despite himself, Orm feels a flush form on his skin, and he wills it to leave.

“She will. I will tell her when the time is right,” Orm quickly says, wishing the conversation to be over. Atlanna pokes her head out of the pantry.

“Grace doesn’t know yet that we aren’t humans,” she explains.

Arthur makes a face, but before Orm can respond, his brother whistles as if the conversation should be over. Orm finds that he’s rather thankful.

“Speaking of not being human, Tylo wanted to see you.” Arthur tells him, clicking his fingers. Orm pushes off the counter he’d come to rest against and perks up.

“He’s out in the bay now?” he asks.

“Well, I told him to wait a bit deeper than that, but yeah,” Arthur tells him.

“You wanna go see him?”

“You’re gonna tell Grace soon right?” Arthur asks, a small amount of concern entering his voice. Orm knew he wasn’t lucky enough to have this conversation just be over. The two brothers trudge up the shore, Orm only glancing behind him briefly when he hears Mimi slap up onto the surface behind them.

“I do not enjoy keeping anything from her, I will tell her soon,” Orm assures his brother quietly. Arthur grunts.

“She’s too smart, and if I’m honest brother,” he begins, stopping briefly to turn to Orm as they reach the crest of the small hill they’d climbed. “If she already likes you, I wouldn't worry about the rest.”

Orm stops to face Arthur, and frowns at him.

“Thank you… I think.”

Arthur grins at him, and claps him on the shoulder. Orm grunts a little, but gives his brother a grim smile. Mimi begins vocalising then, barking happily as she squeezes herself between their legs and hurries forth to the grassy lawn outside the lighthouse. Orm hums lowly at her as she goes, frowning once again.

“What’s got into her?” Arthur asks, dropping his hand from the blond’s back. Orm follows Mimi with his eyes, before quickly straightening up and turning away from his brother entirely.

“Grace is here,” he says absently, no longer paying any mind to the man beside him, finding himself following quickly after the seal pup. Behind him, Arthur makes a whooping noise, and vaguely, Orm hears him begin to trot after, making a sound he assumes to be that of a whip.

Orm ignores him.

By the time he reaches you, you’re sitting on the blanket he assumes had been laid out by his mother, across from Mera. You have Junior in your arms, and you coo at him sweetly. When Mimi reaches you, the brat attempts to crawl up into your lap too, and although you acknowledge her with a swift pet of your hand over her head, you do your best to keep the seal away from the baby.

You don’t notice him, until he’s stepping right up beside you, and gathering Mimi in his arms.

“Orm!” you say with a slight shock to your voice. Orm’s eyes haven’t left you since he first spotted you, and while crouched beside you, he leans in, with only a small amount of hesitation, knowing his mother and Mera sit right there, but regardless, he presses his lips to your cheek, earning a small sound of approval from you as he does.

“I had not expected to see you today,” he says, releasing Mimi as you let Mera take Junior back from you and you attempt to stand. Immediately, Orm straightens and offers you his hand, which you take gratefully, and allow him to help you up. He doesn’t release your hand, which makes you smile shyly at him, but he holds fast and steps slightly away from the blanket, gently guiding you with him.

“Grace!” Arthur interrupts just as you open your mouth to speak. You break your gaze with Orm, and smile politely as Arthur approaches. “Long time no see, chickie!” Arthur says, pulling you in by the shoulders. Your hand is pulled from Orm’s, and you fluster a little, but after a moment you hug Arthur back.

“Hey, what have you been saying about our date back in the day!?” Arthur asks suddenly then, pulling back from you and crossing his arms over his chest, almost intimidatingly. Orm’s heckles rise a little, but they’re calmed almost as soon as he registers Arthur’s words, and a sly grin takes its place on his face. You frown and cock your head. The taller man bucks his chin at the blond, but keeps his eyes on you. “Orm says you thought it was bad!” he faux complains. Orm’s smile widens. You look confused between the two brothers, though your eyes catch on Orm’s grin and the glint in his eyes.

“I never said anything like that,” you say slowly, realisation dawning on both you and Arthur, and you snort in amusement. Orm lets out a short, low chortle at the look on his brother’s face and you step back toward him and elbow him softly in his side. Your own smile takes on an impish quality, and you glance back at Arthur.

“If I’m honest, I don’t remember it much at all,” you tell him slyly, which only makes Orm scoff good naturedly.

“That is more damning than anything I implied,” Orm chuckles, slipping his hand down your still crooked elbow to take up your hand once more. Arthur glares. “If you would excuse us, brother,” the blond says then, sidestepping his brother and once more guiding you several steps away.

“Can you believe that guy?” You hear Arthur ask as both Mera and Atlanna hush him, and he sits down on the blanket, and begins cooing at his son.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He asks, knowing it’s much too formal, especially at this point in your relationship, but also knowing that you quite like his formal tendencies.

“I wanted to ask you something,” you say, turning your hand over in his to link your fingers. Orm looks down at your joined hands briefly, and his lips quirk up at the corner of his mouth.

“Anything,” he says, and once upon a time he would have scolded himself for replying as such and so quickly, but here and now, he allows himself the chance to be besotted.

You smile at him, clearly taken by his words, and any of his remaining restraint takes its leave of him.

“My father and I usually take a trip out in the bay once or twice a month, he called today and we’re going to go tomorrow,” you tell him, your eyes briefly flickering out to the water, and it’s such a simple thing, but Orm can’t help but feel his heart beat a little heavier in his chest at the clear adoration and joy in your gaze. “I thought maybe you’d like to come.”

The wind blows between you, dislodging some of your hair, which you quickly brush back. Orm watches, enchanted by you, and perhaps for the first time being struck by the thought that he’s glad to have been exiled to the surface, glad that he has the chance to experience such wind, experience the way it serves to highlight things about you he never might have known had he lived his entire life below the water’s surface.

“I would be honoured to accompany you both,” he tells you, not realising how his grip on your hand has tightened. You startle a little, as if you hadn’t expected him to accept your offer.

“Great!” You say excitedly, bopping up on your heels for a moment. Orm’s lips only widen in their smile, and he nods. “Well, we’ll meet you down by the docks in town at around nine,” you say.

“I look forward to it immensely,” Orm says, a light and airy feeling filling his chest at the prospect. You grin at him, but a moment later you blink rapidly and your smile drops a little.

“… My father can be a little strange, so you’ll have to forgive him for that,” you say, sounding a little nervous. Orm can’t help the chuckle that bubbles out of him at that.

“I am also strange, am I not?”

You laugh as well, and you squeeze his hand.

“You are, but in a different way,” you say, still smiling, but a small frown creasing your brows. Orm can’t help but recall his brother’s words from only a short while ago, of you being too smart to keep in the dark for much longer. His skin itches uncomfortably as he’s more aware of his dishonesty now than he normally feels cognisant of, and he doesn’t like it.

The moment Orm meets Captain Havelock’s eyes, his blood runs cold. Your father looks him over in one swift glance, before meeting his eye again, and Orm feels a sickening feeling settle in his stomach.

He knows.

“Dad!” you say happily as you release Orm’s hand and step forward to where your father waits on the docks, beside the gangway that’s set up. Captain Havelock swivels his gaze away from Orm and to you, where his thick beard twitches and beneath the neatly groomed fuzz, a small smile appears. The pulled tautness of his eyebrows doesn’t disappear, however, despite the sinking feeling Orm has, he gets the distinct impression that is just your father’s face.

“Gracie,” Captain Havelock says gruffly, quickly wrapping you up in a tight bear hug. Orm swallows as you pull back, and your father adjusts to place his hands on his belt, his smile gone now, and he nods in Orm’s direction.

“Whose this, then?” he asks, voice almost entirely unreadable. Orm startles just a little, and despite everything in his body telling him to dive for the water, he steps forward as you gesture for him to do so.

“Dad, this is Orm. Orm, my father,” you introduce simply. Neither man makes to move at first, and Orm practically squirms under the sailor’s intense gaze.

“Call me Phillip,” your father eventually says simply, leaning forward and outstretching his hand. Orm nods, and quickly takes up the offered hand, shaking it firmly. Your father grunts, and after peering at him a moment too long, he nods at Orm.

Despite the cold feeling in his blood, oddly, the reaction seems to assure him. He searches his mind for anything he knows of human sailing culture, and jerks his head in the direction of the boat.

“Permission to come aboard?” he asks awkwardly. His eyes cut across to you just behind your father, and although you smile wide in amusement, you say nothing, your own eyes trailing up to your father, who’s grip on his hand tightens ever so slightly and he shakes it one last time, before he uses his free hand to clap Orm’s shoulder in a friendly manner. Before he releases him, Captain Havelock leans in slightly.

“Did Grace tell you that?” he asks. Orm shakes his head. “Good man, come aboard.”

Your father turns on his heel then and stalks heavily up the gangway and onto the modestly sized boat. You come to his side then, and pat his arm, shooting him an almost sympathetic smile, tinged with amusement.

“He likes you,” you say assertively, taking the hand Orm offers to you as you too mount the walkway, and move confidently over the bridge. Orm frowns and purses his lips.

“I am not so sure of that,” he says, mostly to himself, and follows you when you beckon.

Orm watches on as you and your father work in quiet unison to get ready to make off. He feels a little useless, but follows the tasks curiously with his eyes. He’s watching you lean over the boat to grasp at the mooring line when he perks up and steps around a large tack box in the middle of the small aft deck, placing his hands briefly at your sides to let you know he is there, and allowing you to step away. Orm reaches over and easily unties the knot around the docking post, his muscle memory from his duties at the lighthouse taking over as he begins to wind the rope up neatly.

“Hang it there,” you tell him, pointing to a hook on the inside of the boat, and he obeys, dusting his hands off once he’s done. Looking up, and around at the craft, Orm pauses when from inside the large covered cabin, he spies your father watching him intently, the other man not bothering to look away or act as though he had been doing anything else as the two make eye contact.

Instead, Captain Havelock siddles himself out of the fastened open door, and nods at the two of you.

“Ready to make sail?” he asks, and with an affirmative from the both of you, he returns back inside, and after only a few more moments of lingering by the pier, the boat's engines kick in, and you begin to move.

Orm comes to a quick conclusion that he enjoys being on a boat. It takes him a moment to gain his steadiness, but he finds it not unlike being beneath the waves, and the way Atlanteans are able to stabilise themselves despite the currents and the movement of the water around them. The salty air around him is familiar in a strange way, and despite the ‘foul weather’ (as Tom had called it earlier), he also enjoys the way the sea spits up and splashes against the sides of the boat as you cruise further and further away from the land.

“Why are you nervous?” you ask sometime later, exiting the cabin to find him where he stands on the back deck, looking out over the sea. Orm turns to you, hands clasped behind his back, but before he can unwind a hand to hold out for you, you sidle up to his side and wrap both your hands around his bicep, leaning your cheek on his shoulder. Orm straightens a little, making sure he stands steady for you, and looks back out at the water.

“Your father is not an unintimidating man, and he is your father,” he says truthfully, fighting against all instincts that tell him not to admit such a thing to you.

You chortle softly and lift your head briefly to kiss the top of his arm. He looks down at you, raising an eyebrow, but watches you as you rest your head once more against him.

“I am waiting for the moment in which he gives me, as Arthur called it, ‘the third degree’,” he says. You laugh again, and squeeze his arm a little, running your fingers up and over it.

“That’s not going to happen. You asked to come aboard his boat, trust me,” you tell him. Orm lets out a small scoff, and you lift your head again, this time manoeuvring around to his front, sliding yourself between him and the back of the boat, slipping both your hands up his arms and over his shoulders, before wrapping them around his neck.

“My dad isn’t like that. He’s had to leave for weeks at a time for work throughout my life, he trusts me, he trusts my opinion, and my opinion is that I like you,” you say, and despite this information not being exactly news to him, he feels his heart beat a little faster in his chest anyway. He unclasps his hands at last, and rests them lightly at your waist, smoothing his thumbs up and down over your thick knit sweater. “So his opinion is that he likes you too,” you tell him.

Orm hums, unconvinced, and looks up over your head briefly, before lowering his chin once more to meet your gaze. You roll your eyes some and shrug your head to the side. “Besides,” you say. “He’s the one who gave me my big knife,” you tell him, your voice dipping lower. His hands tighten a little around your middle and your lips curl upwards at his immediate reaction. “I can handle myself if you decide to mess me around,” you say.

Orm does not even give thought to the idea, instead he dips his head forward even more, almost so your faces touch.

“You know how I feel about that knife,” he says, brushing the tip of his nose over yours. You laugh, and kip up on your toes slightly to press a soft, short kiss to his lips. It's over much too soon for his liking, and when you pull away, he can’t help but chase you, resting his forehead against your own. “But I will defer to your opinion on such matters,” he says quietly, his eyes still fixed on your lips, and his voice barely above a whisper.

“Good,” you say simply, removing your hands from around his neck to cup his cheeks. He can’t help but lean into your touch, comforting as it is for him.

The boat slows, before eventually coming to a stop, and heavy footsteps from behind him make you both break apart slightly, to look over at your father, where he stands now in the doorway of the cabin.

“Orm,” he says roughly, almost barking it out. “Would you like to steer the boat?”

Orm looks back down at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise, and you remove your hands from where they’d come to rest against his collarbones, to tap his arms in encouragement.

“I told you so,” you say. “He never lets anyone drive his boat.”

You watch as your father and Orm disappear into the cabin, but quickly you turn your head back out to the waves all around you, scanning the water. The weather may have been overcast and rainy, but it was beautiful out in the bay all the same. You smile when you feel the boat lurch a little, before it begins to move at a steady, slow pace, and you lean against the railing of the aft deck to watch the water.

Normally on these trips you take with your father, you’d expect to see Khan. He recognised your father’s boat, and you would often get updates from him about your finned friend when your father took tourists or the like out, and he’d assure them not to worry about the tiger shark trailing behind them. Sometimes, he’d even throw a fish or two back out to him.

You don’t see Khan, in fact you don’t seem to see any of the sea life you normally would expect to find in water this deep, and you hum to yourself, finally pushing off the railing to return inside. You pause upon entering, finding Orm and your father with their backs to you, Orm’s hands firmly set on the wheel, your father standing beside him, neither speaking, both simply staring out at the ocean ahead. You scoff internally, and roll your eyes.

Of course they’d get along. You knew they would. They were different stripes of strange, but they were both strange nonetheless, and it brings a smile to your face.

“Hey Dad,” you interrupt whatever it is they have going on in here, and your father turns his head back to you, not yet taking his eyes off the water, however. “Have you seen Khan out there today?” you ask. Your father grumbles and shakes his head. He points off to the left, and silently you watch as Orm gently turns the wheel in his hands to follow the wordless direction. You roll your eyes again.

“I haven’t seen the king in several days,” he says to you. Orm’s head twitches slightly to the side, but it’s as if he resists looking away from his work.

“Haven’t seen many fish, either, mind you,” he goes on after a few seconds. You frown.

“What? Really? In this season?” you ask, intrigued. Your father turns back to you at last, standing side on to look between you and the water ahead of the boat.

“Aye… Mighty strange,” he says, gaining a conspiratorial edge to his voice. “Almost as if something bigger has come up closer into the bay. Scaring ‘em all off…”

“Something bigger?” Orm asks, finally looking away from the water to frown at your father.

You watch them, almost appearing to have a silent conversation as they stare at one another, and you almost expect Orm to say something more, but you cock your head when he blinks rapidly, and suddenly looks away. You shake your head. Strange, you think.

Orm clears his throat, and his shoulders square up.

“Well whatever it is, it probably wouldn’t stay in water this shallow for very long,” he says. Your father stares intensely at the side of his face, and you ready yourself to tell him to cut it out.

“Aye, is that so?” he asks. Orm glances back over at him, seemingly anxious, meeting your fathers eye and nodding once.

“That’s what I would imagine,” Orm replies, uncomfortably, and you at last step forward, gaining your father’s attention and giving him a stern look. He lightens up almost immediately, but grunts and turns back to the water.

“We’ll stop over here, see if the lines have any luck.”

Orm returns to the lighthouse in the dying evening light, a parcel of trout and striped bass in his hands. He feels a strange mixture of lightness and heaviness swirling around his chest, and he’s glad Tom and Arthur are both sitting at the kitchen table when he enters, closing the backdoor softly behind him.

“How’d it go?” Arthur sing-songs. Orm gently rests the parcel of fish meat on the table and purses his lips.

“He knows. About me. About us,” he says grimly. Tom only lets out a short, sharp chuckle, drawing the blond’s attention, and he frowns at the older man.

“I imagine he does,” he says, as if that is supposed to make him feel better. Arthur only nods along.

“How?” Orm tries not to grind out.

Tom shifts in his seat, pulling out the one beside him, and after only a moment of pause, Orm huffs, and sits down.

“Man spent years at sea, if he didn’t pick up a thing or two about the truth, I’d be worried,” he says lightly, before shrugging his shoulders, conceding. “Besides… he told me a story many years ago, said he fell off a ship once, started sinking real deep in all his gear… but was saved by a man who swam up from the depths, took him back to the surface, then disappeared… tell me that doesn’t sound like an Atlantean, or what-have-you.”

Orm flattens his lips and frowns even deeper.

“Grace never told me that,” he says, wishing he had been able to hear the story from you. Arthur waves his hands and takes a sip of the beer set in front of him.

“She probably wouldn’t. Humans get judgy about stuff like that, and Grace is a Ranger,” he says. “She probably just wants to keep the ‘professional’ trust folks around here have in her. You start talking about mermaids or whatever,” he makes a poof’ing noise and motion with his hands. Orm looks to Tom, who nods solemnly.

Orm startles then and looks back at Arthur.

“He knew Tylo had been out in the bay,” he says hurriedly. “He said ‘something big’ had been scaring off Khan and all the fish, you must make sure he retreats deeper!” Orm tells him firmly. Arthur’s face perks up into a wide grin and he leans forward.

“Khan’s still coming by? Man, I love that guy,” he says, ignoring the point of what his brother is telling him.

“Arthur–” Orm begins again, trying to sound stern, and reasonable, but Arthur only rolls his eyes and waves his hand again.

“I sent him back off to Atlantis this afternoon, stop worrying!” he says. Orm frowns deeper and purses his lips. “Besides,” Arthur goes on. “Maybe all this will finally get you to tell Grace the truth,” he shrugs.

Orm lets out an annoyed grumble and sits back in his chair.

“Why are you so concerned with how I handle my relationship?!” he asks, sounding a little more aggressive and angry than he really means to. Arthur shrugs again, still smiling, clearly pleased with himself for getting under his brother’s skin.

“Just think, no more lying, no more–”

“–I have never lied to Grace,” he growls, offended at the mere idea of doing so. Arthur’s smile falls some and he leans forward, matching Orm’s own aggression now.

“But you haven’t told her the truth, either, have you?” he bites back. Orm has really no recourse for that, and he snarls. “You can’t talk to her, really talk to her about your life, who you are. She won’t ever really know you,” Arthur says angrily. “And the longer you keep it from her, the worse it will be!”

Orm stands suddenly, as does Arthur, but neither man has the opportunity to act or say any more, as their mother appears in the doorway, hands on her hips and with danger in her eyes.

“Arthur! Enough!” she says, and both men are immediately cowed. “Your brother is capable of making his own judgments, and we will not have this discussion again, do you hear?”

A beat of silence passes between the two men, with Arthur huffing under his breath and taking his seat once more. Orm stays standing, but calms himself. He fixes his brother with a piercing look.

“My past is not an easy thing for me to wish to discuss… with anyone, let alone Grace. But I would not keep it from her, she has a right to know who I am, and what I’ve done,” he says heavily. Arthur stares at the table for a moment, before lifting his eyes to meet his brother. “And at that point I imagine she will make a choice to be with me or leave me,” he goes on, sucking in a deep breath. “And I am not ignorant of that fact.”

With that, Orm leaves the dining room entirely, not exactly shrugging off his mother’s hand that she places on his shoulder as he passes, but he certainly does not stay to talk further, trudging up to his room. Mimi wakes from the little bed of throws and cushions someone had made for her on the couch as he passes, and he’s halfway to the second floor before he hears her barking for him pathetically from the foot of the staircase.

Letting out a huff, he stops on the landing, and closes his eyes, before returning back down and picking her up. She mewls into his shoulder as he rests her against his chest, and absently he pets the back of her head as he once more ascends the stairs, and disappears into his room.

#orm marius #orm marius x reader #orm marius x you #ocean master #aquaman and the lost kingdom

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imagines-to-quench-thirst · 2 years ago

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Speak in Flowers

Flowers speak their own words and show their actions. And your man loves to speak it out loud.

Includes: Victor Creed (Sabertooth), Loki, Thor, Steve Rogers (Captian America), Bucky Barnes (Winter Solider), Bruce Wayne (Batman), Clark Kent (Superman), Arthur Curry (Aquaman), Orm Marius, Joker, Duncan Vizla (Polar)

All my knowledge about the flowers I found on this link

Enjoy this little fluff piece!

Victor Creed (SABERTOOTH)

PINK CAMELLIA: Longing for you

Victor lives his long life with little to no memories, as most are filled with shocking trauma and events. As years passed and you met him, he was emotionally stunned, fearing what to say and show. The relationship was blooming and bubbling into a fresh memory Victor did not want to miss, but his life did not build him that way. Books helped a lot to him, for him to communicate in ways he needed to express to you his love, his devotion, and his happiness.

You keep every single post-it note, notes in your books, phone, and bathroom mirror he has left. Victor wished to show more of himself in small ways. And therefore, he went for a long walk around the city trying to find a token he could present to you with pride. And then he stopped in front of a flower shop, not looking at all the roses it had on display but at the daintiest petals—pink Camellia. An older lady approaches him, saying.

"Their meanings are Longing For You."

Victor's mind clicks, "I'll buy it."

Returning home, he presents the flowers to you with a slightly spoken tone "I thought of you when I saw them."

Loki

HONEYSUCKLE: Bonds of Love

Ever since Loki decided to take the position as Thor's right hand in governing New Asgard, he inescapably made date nights a fantasy to have. Seeing him several times a month and a few weekly calls doesn't leave much to it. It was as heavy for Loki as for you. Two lovers from different realms trying to make it work. With that, the distance made Loki a nuisance to your delivery man. Every day at 11 am, at your door with a package in hand. At this point in time, you are on a first-name basis.

"Morning, Y/n. Back again."

"Morning, Stephen. Thanks again. Have a cookie."

Loki sent small things that could be delivered easier and faster so you could feel his presence somehow. Most of the packages held a few popular treats, accompanied by letters from him depicting how his day was and always, at the end, writing how much he misses you and cannot wait to have you in his arms. In a new package from today, this one was the most fascinating. Opening the brown box, Hologram butterflies exited the box flying around the room, glowing slightly green as they dispersed into thin air. Looking down, you see delicate branches colored with pink and orange petals, each branching out in their own direction, forming a halo-like shape. Opening your phone, you snap a picture and google search for its name

"Honeysuckles? Hmm...Thanks, Wikipedia. Now let us see the meaning."

Bonds of love.

"Oh, how I miss you, Loki."

Thor

MARJORAM: Joy and happiness

Thor was in a tight position. He was now leading New Asgard on Earth and managed to convince you to try and live in this new area so you could be with him. Not ready to fully move there, you decided to live there for the next 3 months, taking a well-deserved break from work. Living there was a new experience, and you were there to witness the city's first town meeting, first competitions, first restaurant openings, and, as of this moment, the first festival with Thor in hand. Even Loki was there looking somewhat happy but primarily absent.

"You good, Loki?"

"A bit. Seeing the Asgardian people happy makes me joyous, but I miss my lover."

"When are you seeing them?"

"In a few days. They do not know. It will be a surprise."

You looked at him, offering a comforting hug as the people walked around enjoying themself. The sky rumbled, announcing Thor's imminent arrival. Thor's step continued to rumble, and Loki stepped away from you, joining the crowd. Thor was now in front of you, smile beaming and hands full of... green leaves?

"MY DARLING!!" Thor shouted

"Thor...no need to shout. I am in front of you."

"Excuse me! Here you go!"

Thor offers the bouquet of green leaves to you. You accept, sniffing the faint smell of herbs.

"Are these used for... cooking?"

"Yes, I mean, no. Well, the nice lady in the flower shop told me they complement any meat, fish, or vegetable."

"Thanks, I guess..."

"That is not the point of those flowers. Their meanings are Joy and Happiness. Which I feel those feelings when I am with you."

Thor explained nervously, glancing at you with hearty eyes, hoping you would like them as much as he loves you.

"I love you... and the flowers." you replied

Bucky Barnes (Winter Solider)

BLUE AND RED SALVIA: I think of you/ Forever mine

Bucky loves love. Because of you. He cherished the moments he got to experience in this new modern life when he thought it would be a throw-away line. He adored each of those love-filled moments and loved making them even more. Bucky had a small notebook at all times with him where he wrote each moment he did with you, keeping an excellent timeline as well as future notes on what he should do next time. While looking at his notebook, he noticed the lack of gift-giving, especially flowers. Flowers for Bucky where a personalized and live-like message for your lover. And therefore, he decided to find flowers that were the definition of BUCKY. Walking to market place, Bucky walked among the fresh fruits and produce, looking and thinking until his gaze was filled with so many flowers. Stopping at the sight, Bucky hears a thoughtful voice inquiring

"Looking for a unique flower?"

"Yes, for my partner. Something that would depict me as a flower, if there is a flower like that." Bucky speaks self-doubt lacing his voice

"Of course there is; flowers speak many languages."

Bucky nodded, looking at the flowers stopping at two different versions of the same densely packed tubular flowers with velvety leaves. Red and blue.

"Those are Salvia. The red ones mean 'Forever Mine', and the blue ones mean 'I Think Of You'. Hummingbirds and butterflies love them."

"I do call Y/n hummingbird from time to time." Bucky whispered while taking out his wallet to pay, "I'll take them both."

Arriving in a better mood back home, Bucky found his love lounging on the couch. Walking to you with light ninja steps, he placed the flowers in front of you.

"Suprise!"

Steve Rogers (Captian America)

HOLLY: Defense, Domestic Happiness

Steve was on many missions, which were given with his work/lifestyle. So he relished in it when he was home with you. His housewife kink was really showing (if you know what I mean *wink wink*). He adored it when he was doing the laundry with you, doing the dishes, decorating the room the way you like, and planting new herbs and vegetables in your garden. Steve was sold on the whole fantasy he has with you. And he wanted you to show you that. Everyday. Every second.

With that, Steve went on a hunt to find flowers he knew would communicate that. Steve hopped onto a public train in his best 'don't look at me, I know I am famous' disguise, glimpsing at the passing city inching closer to the town center and hopping off his stop going towards a flower shop as he goes cautiously to the lady

"Good day, ma'am. The name is Frank Castle, and I am looking for a flower that would communicate that I love my home and my partner." Steve said, trying not to be suspicious of his 'real name.'

"That name rings a bell, but you don't seem familiar from the photos I have seen of 'Frank.'" The lady says with a hint of suspicion in her voice, looking at the tall blonde up and down. But he wasn't the only one who appeared in front of her with a fake name, and she was a pro at sniffing out a fake. Nonetheless, she wasn't going to put the man in a tight spot.

"Is there a flower you like? Any flower that speaks to you?" She asked. Steve, I mean Frank, looks at the flowers, seeing all kinds of colors and textures in an ecstasy of nature's artistic expression. Finding a dainty four-petal flower so tiny and minuscule an untrained eye would not catch its beauty.

"That is a Holly. They mean 'Defense' and 'Domestic Happiness'." Steve smiled at the flowers that were the size of a pin, smiling gleefully, "I'll take them."

Walking back home with a bouquet in hand, steve opens the door seeing Y/n making dinner. "Y/n? Turn around." Turning around, steve smiles at your surprised smile, appearing in a second when seeing the flowers.

"A little something so you know what I feel when I am with you."

Bruce Wayne (Batman)

IRIS: Faith, Trust, Wisdom, Hope, Valor

Bruce knew he had it good with you. Really good. You were so, so SO understanding of him, his actions, and his double life. Not even once doubting him but being there with him. Bruce wanted you to know how much he loves you for that, and there were so many ways he could show you that. Trips, gifts, new adventures in new parts of the world, you name it, he will give it to you in seconds. But Bruce remembered that the smallest things mean the most, something he learned from his father when he saw him give his mother flowers every single day when returning from work. As Bruce was in his 'day' office, he called up a number of the oldest flower shop in Gotham, knowing the owner quite well.

"Mr. Wayne. Good to hear from you." The lady said happily

"Mrs. Flowerbottom. Always good to hear from you as well. I would need your expertise. I have been with my lover for a few months now, and I would like some flowers that describe them."

"Of course. And how would you describe your lover, Mr. Wayne?" "They are smart, brave, trust me, and I trust them, and quite simply, they are my hope for a better future." The lady chuckles at the honey-covered words from the billionaire former playboy looking at flowers that describe y/n to the bone.

"I am looking at them right now. Would you like to add a note?" "Yes, it would be: "Thank you for being yourself. I love you with all my strength and heart. Yours always, Bruce.""

Hanging up and finishing up the day, Bruce entered his car smiling, knowing that in a few hours, his lover will a unique surprise back in their shared home. Arriving back at Wayne manor. Bruce looks at the enormous bouquet of Hydrangeas standing proudly in the middle of the living room, a small note with a definition of irises at the bottom of the bouquet

IRIS: Faith, Trust, Wisdom, Hope, Valor

The keys jingle again as you enter, seeing Bruce standing next to the bouquet, saying softly

"These are for you."

Clark Kent (Superman)

YARROW: Everlasting love

Clark was a Boy Scout. Everyone called him that; the man was a boy at heart personified. His smile never dropped, he was always ready to help others, and he was a lovesick puppy at heart. So lovesick. Clark breathed you. His demeanor changed completely when he was with you. He was and still is diving head-first into the relationship. Telling you about his plans with you having a house, having kids, and an all-around perfect life. He wanted it with you.

Clark made it his everlasting task to bring you home flowers every day after work. To show you that he loves you to the ends of the universe and back. One day when he was going to his usual flower shop he saw new flowers, flowers that weren't there yesterday. And those flowers beckoned him to come closer, sniff them, and be entranced in their intoxicating smell. "They are called Yarrow." the lady said, smiling at the glasses-wearing dork. "They mean Everlasting Love."

Clark smiles at the yellow droplet-like flowers taking them in hand and smelling the sweet and tangy fragrance. Waving the lady goodbye, promising to arrive again tomorrow as he heads home to his love. Hearing the door open, you walk towards Clark, ready to give him his welcome home kiss, but before you can do that, Clark shows you yellow flowers with the tangiest smell.

"For my everlasting love."

Arthur Curry (Aquaman)

ASTER: Symbol of Love and Daintiness

Arthur loved to scare and surprise you. He loved to go behind the couch to scare you and then present you with a small gift to make you not angry at him. Trinkets such as seashells, funny coffee mugs, or even t-shirts were out of context and confusing. It was funny, really. And sometimes Arthur can go overboard with the scares to the point where you get mad at him and make him sleep on the couch. Like today, Arthur woke up with a stiff neck and aching back while you were well-slept and making yourself your morning tea. Arthur messed up big time, and he was on a mission to make it better by the end of the day. Running like a headless chicken to town, Arthur zoomed past people startling them along the way. Halting to a stop, he sees his salvation, a flower shop. Walking inside, he is greeted by a lady seeing him disheveled and out of breath.

"Please, help me. I messed up with my dove, and I need your best flowers." He pleaded

"Look around the store and see what flower catches your attention." Looking around the room, Arthur spins a few times around, his mind starting to blur, dizziness taking over his decision process. Slowing down, his body turns to a corner of the room with purple-colored daisy flowers.

"The daisies!" Arthur exclaimed, pointing at them like a 3-year-old kid. The lady chuckles as she walks over to them, taking them out of the vase. "They are called Asters. They mean Symbol of Love and Daintiness."

"Well, my dove is dainty and my symbol of love. I'll take them." You watch from the window as Arthur walks back home with flowers in hand, a big smile on his face. The door unlocks, and you make yourself busy by staring blankly at your book as Arthur inches closer, extending his hand which held the flowers. Looking at him, uninterested, he says

"They are called Asters. They are symbols of Love and Daintiness. And to me, you are both. And I am sorry to scare you so much, and I love you."

"....fine. I accept your apologies.Dumbass."

Orm Marius

CALLA LILY : Beauty

Orm had a first relationship with a human. A surface dweller. Someone he held no positive emotions, and yet...he was smitten. So much so that he decided to live with them a few days a week as a start. Orm felt himself stumble into a new world, a world where some souls expressed themself with care, actions, words, or even presents, the most popular being flowers. As Orm walked around town with his chosen love, he saw a flower shop looking at the offers they had. Letting go of Y/n's hand, he walks over using the given time while Y/n's distracted by the fountain waterworks. Stepping closer, he stops at tubular shape flowers.

"They are Calla Lilly. They are extraordinary flowers." the lady working speaks to Orm. "Why are they special?" Orm asks, looking confused at the white flowers.

"They mean beauty. In their own language," she explained.

"The flowers have their own language?"

"Yes, in a way. The flowers you give to your loved ones can be interpreted in a special way beyond the aesthetic." Orm thought for a second before taking out 5 dollars." I have one paper on this currency. Is that enough to cover the whole store?"

The lady laughed at his bluntness as she took the bill and handed him 3 Lillies. "No, but it gives you 3 calla lilies."Orm grunts at his failure but nonetheless smiles as he walks back to Y/n, handing the Lillies.

"These are for you, my beauty."

Joker

YELLOW JASMINE: Grace and Elegance

J tried to keep his job away from you. he tried to divide his "job" away from your eyes, ears, and hands. But it was not something he had complete control over it. Most of the time, he arrived bruised and bloodied while you played nurse. And he wanted to show you in his own way what you mean to him. So he took you in his purple Lamborghini towards the end of the city, a place that would not be considered part of Gotham, a shrouded place, abandoned houses, people looking at you like with a predator-like gaze. Joker held your hand as you walked towards a tiny restaurant you would surely miss if you did not see the small sign at the bottom of the floor spelling out 'Eat in, not out'.

Entering the place, you and J sit next to each other, and you start to ask questions. This wasn't the place where you two would usually go. No glitz and glamour, expensive tiny dishes that would cost an arm and leg, views that would depict the whole Gotham feeling as if you were running the town. It was all swapped with a one-room-sized restaurant without photos, calendars showing the year 2012, and an elderly woman standing in front of you

"Good to see you, J." She spoke her voice gravely, but her perfume was flowery intoxicating

"And you as well, Mrs. Flowerbottom. For tonight I brought my special person here, and I would like your best dish combo."

Mrs. Flowerbottom smiled lovely at you moving back into the kitchen, and you felt just more question bubble in you.

"You come here often?" You asked, looking at him with more question marks in your eyes.

"I was living here at one point. When I had no money when I was younger, I slept on the floor where we are. This place means a lot to me."

While J spoke, Mrs. Flowerbottom brought out chicken soup on a tray, the bowls big enough for 3 people. And next to the food on J's side, she puts flowers with the same sweet perfume Mrs. Flowerbottom was shrouded in. The small clusters of starry, pure-white petals with rich green leaves. J takes them giving them to you.

"I know that I am not good with words, but I have learned that yellow jasmines mean grace and elegance. And I will give you that. By opening myself up and my history with you."

Kissing his lips, you reply, "I would love that."

Duncan Vizla (Polar)

LOTUS FLOWER: Purity, Enlightenment, Self-regeneration, and Rebirth

Duncan felt his way of life changed because of you. You two lived in his cabin next to the lake, shrouded in snow, away from people, enjoying nature's ambiance, feeling thankful for the experience you are sharing with your Donut. Duncan felt himself being happy. He enjoys chopping wood outside in the freezing cold, knowing that he is chopping them for a fire where he will sit behind you, telling his stories about when he was 'working' back in the day. But Duncan wasn't too much of a gift-giver. He was still finding himself in this relationship. And while Duncan was chopping wood, he saw you peaking outside the window, a blanket on your shoulder looking so cozy and inviting him in. Seeing you wave and then moving back in the room, Duncan stopped his actions and walked behind the house and behind a few trees into the woods, seeing the small Polly dom he made no bigger than a 1-meter squared cube. Removing the shrouded small man-made pond was holding his hard work. He managed to grow louts flowers in this weather and in this land. But thanks to the guidance of a sweet lady, he did a good job.

"Thank you, Mrs. Flowerbottom." He said into the cold wind. Taking his flowers and putting them in a basket, he walks into his home. The warm ambiance melted off his cold shake. And you see Duncan with a small grin, and you know he did something he shouldn't

"If you killed someone and buried them in the back, I do not want to know, Duncan." Duncan laughs as he hands you the cloth-covered basket.

"I didn't kill anyone, but I did something for you." With a puzzled look, you remove the cloth seeing pink lotus flowers, the fragrance filling your nose."

"When did you buy them?" You asked, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I didn't. I planted them a few months ago."

"Why louts? They are so hard to grow here."

Duncan sits down, looking at you with a warm smile as he holds your hands, rubbing small circles of comfort.

"Because I learned they mean Purity, Enlightenment, Self-regeneration, and Rebirth... which reminds me of you. And a bit of me as well. More so, the rebirth. I feel like a new man with you, with a new life."

Feeling eyes prickle in your eyes, you say with a soft chuckle, "You really know how to make me ugly cry, Donut."

Hope you liked it! Tell me what you think.-V

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pedge-page · 11 months ago

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Ya'll I saw Aquaman 2 and lemme be real, the first fan fics I wrote were of Patrick Wilson's Orm back in 2019 and that was the theme of my main blog. I got like 3 parts in to a 9 part series and then quit and haven't had the guts to continue writing (also looking back the writing was baaaaaaaaad) but anyway Patrick Wilson is my OG middle aged man crush before Pedge and my word Mr Patrick is the WHOLE package. 50. 6 pack and massive titles. Singing voice of an angle. Fantastic loving husband and one hell of a horror movie actor (thank you James Wan)

I'm also really happy he got TWO shirtless scenes in this movie because he worked so hard for the first one but he said he was disappointed that all you actually got to see was one half of his massive biceps. And then he got even bigger for this role and they gave him his spotlight for that hard work.

#patrick Wilson #orm marius #orm #aquaman 2 #aquaman the lost kingdom

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infyq · 4 months ago

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