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#aquaman 2
dilfgifs · 1 month
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PATRICK WILSON Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom (2023)
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tennant · 2 months
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Patrick Wilson as Orm Marius AQUAMAN AND THE LOST KINGDOM (2023) dir. James Wan
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doormatty3 · 3 months
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Ocean Eyes: Chapter 1 (Orm Marius x Reader)
Masterlist Ao3
Ocean Eyes Masterlink
Summary:
[Orm Marius x Female Reader] [Orm Marius x You]
The ocean has always fascinated you - the ebb and flow of its water, the marine life in the sea and the wild and untamed beauty it exudes. Your attempts to explain this fascination have always fallen short. But when you meet Orm at the seaside one rainy day you find, that he just understands.  You offer to show him around since he is not from the city. And you are intrigued by his rather strange quirks and his regal demeanour.  After all, how could you not? When his eyes mirror the ocean itself, deep and incredibly blue. OR: You impress Orm with the surface world and he impresses you with his Atlantean cock
Wordcount: 4134
A/N: This is the first chapter for a (probably) 4-5 chapter fic
Also: Our boy Orm deserves some love so this happened.
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Normally, you actually like water; after all, it’s an integral part of your life as a marine biologist. 
You’ve spent countless hours immersed in the briny depths, studying the mysteries that lie beneath the surface. In the embrace of the watery depths, you’ve unravelled the secrets of hidden ecosystems, marvelled at the kaleidoscope of marine life, and witnessed the symbiotic dance between predator and prey. The ebb and flow of tides, the rhythmic movement of ocean waves – these are the elements that typically elicit admiration and wonder from you. 
However, this affection for water does not extend to rain, especially when it chooses to make an unannounced entrance when you’re out for a walk along the seaside.
As the heavens open up unexpectedly, you find yourself caught off guard, the rhythmic pitter-patter of raindrops on the sand disrupts the usual symphony of your thoughts. A muttered curse slips through your lips, a reflexive response to the inconvenience of precipitation, and you hastily reach for your umbrella.
The once-clear sky, a former blue sphere, now cloaks itself in shades of grey, as you struggle with the umbrella, desperately attempting to shield yourself from the sudden downpour threatening to soak you through.
“Thank god,” you mutter under your breath when you finally manage to open the umbrella before being drenched. 
As you trudge along the wet sands, your now open umbrella in hand, the lack of shelter becomes painfully apparent. The vast openness of the seaside, which had promised freedom and expansiveness, now offers no refuge from the relentless rain. 
The sea, once a source of inspiration, now seems indifferent to your plight, its waves crashing rhythmically as if mocking the irony of a marine biologist seeking escape from the rain. 
Amidst the relentless downpour, your attention is drawn to a solitary figure at the edge of the beach. Despite the bad weather and the onslaught of rain, the man remains unwavering.
His gaze is steadfastly directed towards the open expanse of the ocean. 
Even from afar you can tell that he’s completely soaked, his blonde hair clings stubbornly to his head, and his clothes adhere to his form like a second skin.
Intrigued by the enigmatic scene, you find yourself pausing in your own battle against the weather, momentarily captivated by the man’s unwavering focus. The rhythmic cadence of the rain seems to fade into the background as you observe the drenched stranger.
Curiosity propels you towards him, each step accompanied by the squelching sound of wet sand beneath your shoes.
Instinctively, you move closer to the man on the edge of the beach, extending the canopy of your umbrella to encompass both of you.
He turns around, surprise evident in his expression, as if awakening from a deep reverie. It becomes clear that your approach went unnoticed, his focus entirely absorbed by the vastness of the open ocean. The sudden shelter you provide seems to bring him back to the present moment.
As your gaze flickers over him, you find yourself inadvertently appreciating the details of his appearance. His smooth skin contrasts with a well-groomed stubble, and his piercing blue eyes hold a hint of depth, perhaps mirroring the expanse of the sea he was lost in moments ago. Expressive eyebrows, a straight nose, and pink lips contribute to an overall attractiveness that stands out even amidst the dampness and the downpour - perhaps the rain even intensified this as your eyes follow the path of a raindrop as it traverses his forehead and nose, eventually dripping from the tip.
Despite the adverse weather, it’s evident that he takes care of himself. The rain reveals the contours of a muscular physique beneath his soaked clothes. A defined chest, broad shoulders, and sculpted arms speak of a physicality that has weathered more than just the current storm.
A quiet “thank you” escapes his lips, accompanied by the subtle curve of a smile that plays on them. As he holds your gaze, his blue eyes reveal more than words convey. There’s an intensity in his look, a depth that suggests the weight of unspoken thoughts resting behind those expressive eyes.
As he breaks the gaze and turns back to the open sea, his presence lingers, all-consuming, and you find yourself unable to simply walk away. Instead, you remain rooted in your spot, holding the umbrella over both of you.
The rhythmic rise and fall of the waves draws your attention, each wave pooling onto the smooth surface of the sand before dispersing like foam. The ocean, in its relentless dance, momentarily recalls its waters, leaving behind a glistening trail of wet sand in its wake.
As you stand there, sheltered under the umbrella, the tableau before you becomes a canvas of contrasts – the vast expanse of the open sea, the ephemeral beauty of the waves, and the tangible presence of the stranger beside you. The sound of raindrops on the umbrella becomes a quiet rhythm, harmonizing with the natural symphony of the seaside.
It really has been ages since you allowed yourself to simply take in the beauty of the ocean and breathe. The thoughts of work, responsibilities, and the hustle of daily life seem to dissolve, rendered insignificant in the face of the vast, timeless expanse of the open sea.
Under the shared umbrella, the ceaseless rhythm of the waves becomes a soothing lullaby, and the salty tang of the sea air fills your lungs with a refreshing breath. The worries and stresses that usually occupy your mind are momentarily eclipsed by the sheer tranquillity of the moment.
With each inhale, you absorb the invigorating sea breeze, and with each exhale, you release any lingering tension. The rain, which was once an inconvenience, now feels like a gentle cleansing, washing away the mental clutter that often accompanies the demands of everyday life.
Normally, your beach walks are just a way to clear your head with familiar surroundings but nothing more than that. So you sift through your thoughts and you ponder the possibility of having seen the man before but his regal demeanour and striking looks leave no trace in your recollections.
Breaking the comfortable silence, you voice your curiosity, “I haven’t seen you here before…” He turns to you, fixing his intense gaze on your face, awaiting your words. “Are you from here?” you inquire.
A subtle smile graces his lips, a fleeting acknowledgement of your question. His hand glides over his chin, tracing the stubble that accentuates his features. Your gaze follows the motion, noting the details - the thickness of his hands, the length of his fingers, and the neatly trimmed nails.
“No,” he begins, and as if sensing your curiosity, he offers a bit more insight, “I’m from far away. I’m… just passing through.”
Despite the cryptic nature of his words, you find yourself captivated by the mysterious charm he exudes. His subtlety and intensity draw you in, leaving you with a desire to unravel the layers behind those enigmatic blue eyes.
“Well then, it’s nice to meet you!” you express with a genuine smile. Taking the initiative, you extend a hand in introduction.
In response to your greeting, he graces you with a full-blown, toothy smile that illuminates his face. His eyes sparkle, reminiscent of sunlight dancing on water, and the skin around his eyes crinkles with the warmth of the expression.
You… want to see that more often, you think. You’d like to be the reason for that infectious smile, to be the reason behind the sparkle in his eyes, and to cast away the haunted look that seems to linger within their depths.
“Happy to make your acquaintance,” he responds, his hand enveloping yours with a firm grasp. As his long fingers curl around yours, a subtle current of electricity prickles at the point of contact, and you find yourself missing his touch when he drops your hand.
“I’m Orm,” he introduces himself.
“Orm,” you test the pronunciation of his name, and you catch the flicker of his eyes as they briefly lower to your lips.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard that name,” you remark, your curiosity piqued. 
In response, he shrugs, a somewhat sheepish expression crossing his features. “As I said, I am not from here,” he adds.
“If you ever need a tour guide, let me know,” you offer, extending a friendly invitation. His eyebrows raise in response, and you catch a glint of curiosity in his eyes. “I know a few nice places… some even provide a better view of the ocean.”
As a gust of wind swirls around you, the dampness of your clothes coupled with the cold air sends a shiver down your spine, and goosebumps emerge on your skin. The sudden chill causes you to freeze, the contrast between the warmth of the moment shared under the umbrella and the elements outside becoming palpable.
In contrast, you observe Orm, still drenched but seemingly unaffected by the cold.
The offer to be his tour guide hangs in the air, and for a brief moment, a subtle fear creeps in. Was it too forward? Does he wish to cut the conversation short, politely concealing any desire to decline?
A sense of relief washes over you as Orm’s response breaks the brief tension. 
“That would be nice,” he says, his eyes straying back to the expanse of the ocean as if lost in thought.
The soft pitter-patter of the rain envelops you both in a cocoon, creating a serene backdrop to the moment. Despite the logical inclination to seek shelter and escape the rain, something within you resists the notion of leaving. A peculiar reluctance binds you to the spot as if an invisible force tethers you to Orm’s calming presence.
Standing beside him, you feel a sense of grounding and tranquillity it’s a sensation that you haven’t experienced before - well, if you’re honest with yourself, you have felt it before. It’s the same feeling you get near or in the ocean.
Maybe it’s his eyes. His deep, blue eyes seem to hold all the mysteries of the sea, mirroring the tranquil rhythm of the rain and the timeless expanse of the ocean.
____
A few days later you see him again and you find yourself back at the same spot.
Today, the weather is vastly different - there’s no rain, and the sun graces the scene with its warm glow.
As you approach the familiar location, the memories of the previous meeting flicker in your mind. You wonder how Orm will look in the bright sunlight - he had already been a vision when completely drenched.
When he comes into view, you find that he’s even more striking than before, 
He is clad in a basic black shirt and matching slacks, the fabric sits snugly on his broad frame, accentuating the contours of his muscular body. The sunlight enhances the contrast, casting a play of shadows that dance along the lines of his thick body.
The blonde hair, now dry and therefore lighter in the sun, is neatly combed back, reflecting the sunlight like strands of golden thread, creating an almost ethereal aura around him.
His gaze is fixed on the sea again. With his head held high and arms folded behind his back, there’s a regal air about him.
“Orm! Hey,” you greet him, genuine warmth in your voice as you approach, happy to see him again. As he turns around to face you, there’s a radiant smile on his lips.
The sunlight adds a gleam to his features as he returns your greeting.
“So, what do you want to see?” you ask Orm, eager to tailor the experience to his preferences. “Have anything in mind?”
He responds with a gracious simplicity, “No, I leave that in your capable hands.”
You can’t help but feel a subtle warmth creeping across your cheeks because he really is rather sweet and charming.
So you clear your throat before speaking, “I promised you some nice places to see the ocean, so let’s do that.”
With a subtle gesture, you signal it’s time to leave, and you start walking with Orm following closely behind. As you set the pace, you observe him adjusting his strides to match yours, a small yet thoughtful gesture that makes your heart beat faster. It’s rare that a guy just does that without having to be asked.
He slips his hands into his pockets, seemingly unsure of what to do with them.
“We’re gonna have to drive a bit,” you mention, looking up at Orm, and tugging your lip between your teeth, “Is that fine for you?”
You gesture towards your small blue car and watch Orm’s gaze as his eyes shift from you to the car before nodding slowly, “Sure.”
As you lead the way, Orm walks behind you, and you notice a hesitation in his movements when you reach the car. He doesn’t do anything until you open your door, watching your movements. To you, he looks a bit lost, as if he’s unsure about how to open the door. But you disregard that thought, it is probably just your mind playing tricks.
As you both get into the car, the doors closing with a reassuring thud, you settle into your respective seats.
“If you need more leg space, feel free to adjust the seat,” you offer, considering he is taller than you.
 He meets your gaze with those striking blue eyes before nodding, “Sure, but I’ll be fine.”
Orm’s gaze wanders around your car, and you notice his eyes catching on the seashell chain dangling from the rearview mirror. His hand raises, and his fingers delicately trace over the hard exteriors of the shells. The gesture carries a certain intimacy as if he’s unravelling the stories embedded in each shell.
The image in your mind briefly diverges, envisioning those deliberate touches on your skin with the same care and intensity. You swallow dryly as you try to remember why you’re here - to show him some spots, to be his friend, not to fuck him.
As you start the car, the engine humming to life, you catch what seems like a subtle jump in the corner of your eyes from Orm. However, you dismiss it, attributing it to a trick of the mind or perhaps a momentary startle that often accompanies the sudden sounds of a car coming to life.
“Do you mind fastening your seatbelt?” you ask, your concern for safety evident in the request. Sure, he’s muscular and fit but in case of an accident that won’t help him much sadly.
Orm nods in acknowledgement, and his eyes meet yours as you secure your seatbelt before mirroring the motion.
He is rather strange.
_____
The drive unfolds in a quiet contentment, accompanied by the soft murmur of the radio playing music at a low volume. Orm, for the most part, gazes out of the window, seemingly lost in thought or captivated by the passing scenery. As the sunlight plays on his face, casting gentle shadows, you find yourself fascinated by the play of light, accentuating his features.
At some point you start humming, caught in the melody of a song and even sing quietly along. After a few beats you notice that Orm’s gaze is fixed on you now, an intensive look in his blue eyes as he studies you with a depth that makes you feel vulnerable.
As you become aware of it, a blush creeps across your cheeks. To your surprise, Orm responds with one of those sweet smiles before breaking eye contact and redirecting his attention to the scenery outside the window again.
“We’re here,” you announce to Orm, bringing the car to a stop. The engine’s hum fades as you turn it off, and you both step out.
You brought him to a medium-high cliff site.
The cliff, standing just a few feet above the ocean, is characterised by weathered stones, carved over time by the relentless touch of the water. It’s not a typical beach setting, but the raw beauty of the scene never fails to captivate you.
Below, the waves crash with a rhythmic symphony, their energy echoing against the stone walls in a natural percussion. Each surge sends sprays of seawater into the air, catching the sunlight like a cascade of liquid diamonds before dissipating into the sea breeze.
The sun, hanging high in the sky, bathes the entire scene in a warm, golden glow. It casts its warm embrace upon the waves, creating a dazzling display as the light interplays with the water that reflects the brilliance of the sun. The golden rays catch in the frothy crests of the wave.
A small path, worn by time and exploration, winds its way down the cliffside side presumably leading to a beach down below.
In the stillness of this remote haven, away from the clamour of the city and the watchful eyes of the world, the air carries a purity that is both invigorating and calming. As you close your eyes and inhale deeply, the crisp, clean air fills your lungs, creating a sense of tranquillity that is uniquely serene.
As you stand there a realization dawns upon you - you’ve never brought someone here before. Yet, as you stand there with Orm, the decision to share this sacred place with him feels instinctive, as if his presence harmonizes with the essence of the surroundings.
Deep within your consciousness, a recognition stirs, an understanding that his eyes mirror the tranquil beauty of this place. There’s an unspoken connection between him and the sea, a sentiment that resonates with the rugged cliffs, crashing waves, and untamed nature surrounding you both. It’s as if his very presence is an extension of the landscape - a kindred spirit to the ocean.
“Beautiful,” Orm’s quiet voice interrupts your reverie, prompting you to turn around and face him, finding that his gaze is fixed on you, not on the breathtaking scenery that surrounds you.
“Yeah, I come here to think - I just feel like I can breathe here,” you share, offering a glimpse into the personal significance this place holds for you. 
As you speak, you notice that Orm’s eyes remain glued to your form, not wandering to the sea. His intense gaze seems to linger on you as if captivated by something beyond the natural beauty of the landscape. You feel your heartbeat in your whole body and electricity coursing through your skin.
Orm steps closer his intense blue eyes never leaving yours. With a gentle touch, he lifts a wayward lock of hair that has fallen in front of your face and tucks it behind your ear.
The gesture is tender, a subtle connection that transcends words. The proximity and the soft touch create a moment suspended in time, the crashing waves and the untouched beauty of the surroundings fading into the background. 
Your breath catches in your throat, momentarily you forget to breathe as you feel his warm skin on your face.
You can’t help but notice the vibrant glow in Orm’s eyes. The sunlight catches in the deep blue hues, and they seem to come alive with a vivid intensity. His gaze, vibrant and open, mirrors the brilliance of the sun that bathes the surroundings.
At that moment, his eyes are a reflection of the untamed beauty of the sea, filled with depths and mysteries that seem to echo the vastness of the ocean. 
Orm’s proximity brings with it an enveloping scent that fills the air around you. It’s a fragrance that captures the essence of the sea, a symphony of the breeze, sea salt, and the unmistakable aroma of the beach. 
As you breathe in, the familiar notes of the sea transport you to the shoreline, the rhythmic sounds of the waves echoing in your mind. 
It is as if he’s water itself.
In the silence, with Orm’s hand gently cradling the side of your face, you notice the subtle movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallows. In a moment of courage, you decide to close the distance.
With a small, bold step on your toes, you reach for his lips, closing the gap between you and Orm. The kiss is a gentle meeting, a fusion of shared connection and unspoken emotions. The crashing waves and the sea breeze seem to hold their breath as if nature itself is pausing to witness this intimate exchange beneath the warm glow of the sun.
Orm’s response is immediate and enveloping. Instead of pulling back, he wraps his strong arms around you, pulling you even closer against his frame. The kiss deepens a mutual exchange that goes beyond words. The embrace is strong and intimate as if the crashing waves below have found their echo in the connection between you and Orm.
Time seems to slow, and the kiss becomes a shared moment suspended in the tapestry of the cliffside sanctuary. The scent of the sea, the warmth of the sunlight, and the touch of his lips create a harmonious symphony, blending with the timeless rhythm of the waves below. 
You feel Orm’s stubble against your skin. The subtle scratch of his facial hair becomes a grounding force, connecting you to the present moment, reminding you that this is happening.
It is as if your entire being comes alive.
Every touch, every nuance of the kiss, is a vibrant testament to the living, breathing connection between you and Orm. 
Breathless, you break the kiss, and as you look at Orm, he appears positively ravishing. The sea breeze plays with his tousled hair, and the sunlight casts a golden glow upon his features.
His eyes reflect a sense of wonder as if the shared moment was something extraordinary and beyond expectation. And then, with a captivating smile, he pulls back slightly, tracing his tongue over his bottom lip, savouring the taste of the kiss.
“That was unexpected,” Orm says, his intense gaze unwavering as he keeps his eyes firmly on you.
“Unwelcome?” you question,  searching for reassurance.
“No, I didn’t say that. It was most welcome,” he assures you with a warm smile, his eyes reflecting a genuine appreciation for the shared moment.
“It’s different from what I thought or expected,” Orm mumbles quietly, his expression turning thoughtful, the words almost lost in the hushed tone.
“What?” you ask, a hint of confusion in your voice, urging him to repeat himself since you didn’t quite catch what he was saying.
“Oh, nothing,” Orm dismisses with a subtle smile, as if choosing to keep certain thoughts close to himself and not to elaborate further. 
You lose your train of thought as soon as Orm reaches for your hand, giving it a subtle, reassuring squeeze, telling you without words that you shouldn’t worry about it.
Orm gently releases your hand, his attention drawn to the scenic surroundings. Taking a few steps forward, he moves closer to the edge of the cliff, where he peers down at the undulating water below. 
In the soft glow of the sunlight, his features come alive, it paints him with warmth, casting a radiant glow that enhances every detail. The light highlights the slight tousle of his hair as the wind delicately weaves through it.
Orm turns to you again, his eyes reflecting a deep appreciation for the surroundings. “I can understand why you come to this place,” he says, his voice carrying a sincere tone. “It really is something special.“
You nod in agreement and offer a warm smile. “Are you hungry?” you ask because the rumble in your own stomach suggests it’s time for a meal. Orm seems to ponder for a moment, considering the idea, and then he agrees with a subtle nod.
Curiosity piqued, you ask, “What do you feel like eating?”
His response is straightforward. “I’d like a burger with fries and a Guinness.”
A grin spreads across your face as you reply, “I know a spot that serves good burgers. I’m not too sure about the Guinness though - but I’m sure you’ll find something.”
Orm nods in satisfaction and you suggest getting back to the car.
“Lead the way, oh guide of tours,” Orm says, his choice of words eliciting a snort from you at the quirky phrasing.
As you both settle into the car, you take the driver’s seat and start the engine. 
Without many words, Orm carefully places a hand on your thigh. 
Initially, it’s just the featherlight touch of his fingertips, but when he senses your ease, he gently lays his hand down, spreading his fingers to cover as much space as possible.
The warmth of his touch seeps through the fabric of your jeans, a searing heat that radiates from your leg, enveloping your entire body. Turning your head towards him, you find his gaze fixed on you and in response, you offer a warm smile.
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asianrabbit · 7 months
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Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom (2023) Yahya Abdul-Mateen II / Black Manta
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mndvx · 7 months
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YAHYA ABDUL-MATEEN II in AQUAMAN AND THE LOST KINGDOM (2023)
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richardgrimes · 1 month
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Sometimes it's gonna seem like our differences are too extreme, but all we have to do is look beneath the surface to see that we're all here on this planet with the same goals and aspirations, even when our customs might seem strange and unfamiliar. And by overcoming our prejudices, we'll become stronger and learn more about ourselves. AQUAMAN AND THE LOST KINGDOM (2023)
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dcfilmblr · 2 months
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AQUAMAN AND THE LOST KINGDOM (2023) dir. James Wan
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gabrielemarius · 3 months
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Imagine confessing your feelings about Orm to Arthur and Orm hears it
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spacetalbot · 3 months
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The King's Doctor: Prologue (aquaman)
summary: set ~5 years prior to the events of Aquaman (2018). Orm visits the Royal Doctor, the woman he secretly loves.
warnings: ??medical roleplay?? (they jokingly play patient and doctor), fluff, cringe flirting, <1k words.
head back to the masterlist here
part one: reunion, part two: everything to nothing, part three: the refinery, part four: not the same
Clean. Sterile. Everything an infirmary should be. The bright lights of Atlantis shone in, the beds empty. The doctor stood with a couple of nurses, scribbling something on the board in front of them. 
“Should we start organising for these to be farmed?”
The holograms beside us of the seaweed’s enzymes spun slowly, “Yes, maybe just a small patch, I still want to perfect it before experimenting in the field”
One of the nurses ran off, but the other stayed, “Should we inform the council? I mean, this is revolutionary”
I couldn't contain my smile, “Not yet, I reckon we should get it ready before we put it on your professional portfolio”
She spun excitedly, “You mean it, Y/N? You’ll give me a recommendation and credit?”
I pushed the board away, hearing footsteps come down the hall, “Why wouldn’t I? You’ve been a great help-”
The doors swung open, two guards entered the practice. Light blue lights glittering from their armour, “Please welcome his majesty, King Orm of Atlantis”
Y/N and her nurse bowed as the king entered the room. His blonde hair perfectly pushed to the back like a fin, purple garments skin tight, the Atlantean lights glowing gently off his muscles. She couldn't suffocate a smile much longer, straying her eyes away from his pale ones. 
“Everyone is dismissed, I need to see the Doctor” His deep voice echoed.
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She gently tapped the nurse on the shoulder and with the guards, the room was emptied. Orm stood by the door, she by one of the beds. The hum of Atlantis the only noise between them. Y/N tapped the bed in front of her, a smirk tugging at her cheeks. The King swam over to sit on the bed in front of her. Up close, all those sharp, regal edges softened out. His smile was warmer, his cheek smoother against her hand. 
“What seems to be the problem today?” She mused, running her hand softly along his forehead.
“You’re funny, you know that?” He grinned, holding his hand in hers, pulling her towards him. 
His lips pressed against hers, Orm’s warmth filling her up. His rough hand rubbed against her neck, pulling her even closer. Her hands held against his tight chest, burning the feeling of him into her hands. She lived for these moments. The King's health is the priority she’d say when questioned. A daily priority even. He was her forbidden addiction. Clamouring more and more for the taste of his skin. Only her nurses knew how itchy she got when the sun was beginning to set over Atlantis and the King had not been seen. 
He pulled away, his thumb running over the curve of her lip, “What’s my diagnosis, Doctor?”
She hummed for a second, pretending to look concerned, holding his face in her hands, “I’m afraid you're too hot- your temperature that is”
He laughed, resting his head against her, “What do you suggest for treatment?”
The doctor backed away from him, pulling him to his feet. She adored the space he took up. Even if he wasn’t King, Orm would be a noticeable presence anywhere. She couldn’t get enough.
“Leave your bedroom window open and let the breeze cool you down” She winked.
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whatiswrongwithpeople · 3 months
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soranatus · 7 months
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Is she still up there? She is, isn’t she? I can hear her, still unleashing her fury. Mera of Xebel. Quite a woman. Headstrong? Yes. More powerful than anyone really imagines. Do you hear me? She won’t give up! Not ever! She’ll find a way through that crown of thorns.
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effie2039 · 2 months
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"Don't call me brother!"
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doormatty3 · 3 months
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Ocean Eyes - Masterlink (Orm Marius x Reader) //FINISHED
Masterlist Ao3
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Summary:
[Orm Marius x Female Reader] [Orm Marius x You]
The ocean has always fascinated you - the ebb and flow of its water, the marine life in the sea and the wild and untamed beauty it exudes. Your attempts to explain this fascination have always fallen short. But when you meet Orm at the seaside one rainy day you find, that he just understands.  You offer to show him around since he is not from the city. And you are intrigued by his rather strange quirks and his regal demeanour.  After all, how could you not? When his eyes mirror the ocean itself, deep and incredibly blue. OR: You impress Orm with the surface world and he impresses you with his Atlantean cock
Warnings: 18+, fluff, kissing, romance, smut, oral sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, dirty talk, dirty thoughts, kissing, face-fucking, possessiveness, jealousy, semi-public sex, fingering
A/N: I couldn’t resist and had to write an Orm ff after watching Aquaman 2 - the plot was very very pretty after all. I wanna thank whoever decided to put Patrick Wilson in a compression shirt for 2hrs
Also: this is gonna be a bit longer with more chapters to go - a lot of fluff and smut as well as Orm being adorably lost at surface world stuff. AND beware, I will spoil some Aquaman 2 stuff here
ALL CHAPTERS:
Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
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daimyosprincess · 7 months
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TEMUERA MORRISON as Tom Curry in AQUAMAN AND THE LOST KINGDOM trailer
please don't repost my gifs, reblog to share :)
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the-marshals-wife · 2 months
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New Horizons (Arthur Curry x Reader)
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A/N: Requested by @dantes-devil-huntress. I can't believe this is my first Aquaman fic! This was so much fun to write, I hope you enjoy!
Premise: Trying to figure out his place in the world as the newly crowned king of Atlantis, Arthur meets someone who may just help him find the answers he looking for.
Description: Arthur Curry/Aquaman x Fem!Reader (Human), meet-cute fluff! | Warnings: alcohol, mild language | Setting: AU w/o Mera endgame, before The Lost Kingdom | Word count: 3,468
Gif credit: user jasonmomoaonline
Imagine Arthur giving you shelter when you're stranded in a storm, and discovering his true identity
Getting stood up for your date had been the worst part of the night, until the moment you got into your car. Instead of the engine turning over and sputtering to half-life like usual, it only stalled.
"You have got to be kidding me," you say, gripping the steering wheel and turning the key until you thought it might snap, "Come on, come on, come ON!"
Throwing open your door, you pop the hood and stumble back out into the chilled night. You mutter curses under your breath as you survey the labyrinth of steel and hoses before you.
"At least nothing's on fire this time," you mutter, rolling your eyes.
You step back and stare at the bucket of bolts the salesman had called "like new." Besides coming to this bar, buying this car was quite possibly your biggest regret. It wasn't quite a lemon, but it wasn't a Rolls either. And most of all, it was all you could afford.
You exhale, glaring up at the flickering light of the bar's neon sign. The last thing you wanted to do after waiting nearly two hours alone like a fool was show your face inside again. You retrieve your phone from your back pocket, just to see the blinking bars in the top corner. No service.
"Wonderful," you groan.
Like a bad joke, thunder rolls in the distance. You look up to see the lightning flashing on the horizon across the bay. The brisk, salt air rises up from the water and cuts right through you.
"Could this night get any better?!" you lament, an angry shriek escaping your lips as you kick the front tire.
"Excuse me, Miss?" a voice from behind interjected.
You jump and turn to see a man approaching, nervous smile on his bearded face. You appraise him wearily: tall, dark, and not at all lacking in style, clad in both leather and jewelry. He looked a sight better than the drunken fishermen you'd observed stumble about the bar, which you concluded was about ninety-percent of the clientele. Even from where he stood, he certainly seemed to smell better.
"Uh, I don't mean to interrupt, but you sound like you might need some help," he offers hesitantly.
Despite your initial scare, something about him puts you at ease.
"Oh, um...yeah, actually" you smile embarrassed, tucking your hair behind your ear, "My stupid car won't start. Again."
"Mind if I take a look?" he asks, pointing.
"Would you? That would be great, honestly," you say, folding your arms against the cold, "I just had it in the shop last week. I have no idea what's wrong now."
He pats the fender as he circles around to the front, "Let's see what's got you all clammed up here, buddy."
"Your guess is as good as mine," you say exasperated, stepping to stand behind him a ways.
He chuckles and pushes up his sleeves, ducking underneath the hood. You take note of the intricate tattoos, realizing this friendly stranger was becoming more interesting by the minute.
"Hmm, nope. Not that," he says, craning his neck, "Not that either."
You bite your lip and sway on your feet, silently praying he could find the source of the problem. Any easy fix was probably too much to hope for, but your fingers stayed mentally crossed nonetheless.
"Ooh, maybe- no, definitely not," he says, followed by a clinking sound, "That should not be there."
"I really appreciate this," you say after a moment, peering over his shoulder, "I can change the wipers and put on a spare if I have to, but that's about the extent of my car expertise."
"No shame in that," he grunts, his voice strained, "Oof, now that might be a problem."
"Did you find something?" you dare to ask.
"These spark plugs are kaput. Like, 'not even a necromancer can bring them back' kind of kaput."
"The guy said they were fine!" you exclaim, "I knew I shouldn't have gone back to that place. Probably just took my money and laughed."
The man finally stands up and winces.
"And your alternator is on its last leg," he says with a grimace, "Even if you could get it to start, I wouldn't go more than five miles in this thing."
"Great. That's just wonderful," you sigh, shaking your head, "Well, thank you for looking. It'd have taken me forever to figure that out. Google only goes so far."
"No problem, wish I had better news for ya," he says, wiping his grease-tinged hands on his jeans before extending one towards you, "I'm Arthur, by the way."
"I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you, Arthur."
"Nice to meet you too."
Despite your frustration, you couldn't help but grin. As Good Samaritans go, he was quite a handsome one. Something in the back of your mind whispered that you had seen his face before, but you couldn't place when or where.
Before you could speak again, a bolt of lightning strikes just across the harbor, followed swiftly by a crash of thunder.
Arthur looks off to the darkened horizon, his expression souring with concern.
"Storm's coming in fast," he observes, the sea breeze blowing through his long, sun-kissed hair, "Do you have someone you can call to come pick you up?"
He turn back to you, and only now do you notice just how rich and golden eyes his eyes are. For a few dizzied seconds, you forget to answer.
"Uh, not really. I'm pretty new to the area. I don't know very many people," you reply, feeling shy all of a sudden, "I can just call a Uber or something. If my service ever picks up."
"Yeah, definitely," he nods, clearing his throat, "They have a phone inside."
"Thank you again for helping me, Arthur," you say, starting to walk towards the door.
"I didn't really help, though..." he trails off, disappointment in his voice as you step past him.
Your hand is almost on the handle when he pipes up.
"Uh, look I know you don't know me, but my dad's place is just down the road from here. He's the lighthouse keeper. Him and my mom are actually away on little retreat, and I'm watching the place for them," he explains, "It's dry, warm, and definitely has a lot less drunk guys. You could wait there while the storm passes, if you wanted."
You turn back to him, trying to conceal your renewed hope, "I couldn't impose on you like that."
"Oh you wouldn't be. It's just me and the dog. He's probably getting sick of me at this point. He could use a visitor," he chuckles, "But I understand if you'd rather stay here. Strange guy at a bar invites you to a lighthouse on a dark and stormy night. Sounds like a horror movie, I know."
You laugh, and so does he, bringing some much needed levity.
"I'll bring you right back if you change your mind, just say the word," he adds, sounding truly sincere.
Almost everything in you was saying not to trust a man you'd just met, but your gut was telling you otherwise. There was more to the warmth in his eyes than just the color.
"Well, it does sound like the dog could use some company," you say thoughtfully.
Arthur smirks. "Oh yeah. There's been a Hell's Kitchen marathon on for days, and I'm pretty sure he's sick of listening to my Gordon Ramsay impression. I can't resist, love that guy."
"I might have to hear that for myself."
"Let's get you out of this weather, and we'll see what I can do about that, then," he says with a wink, "My ride is just over here."
Not even the chilled wind could overcome the warmth of your cheeks. The excitement in your chest grows with every step as you follow him across the sandy lot. The ride in question, however, soon comes into view, and the knot in your stomach tightens all the more.
"Oh boy," you say, staring at the motorcycle.
"You're not scared of bikes are you?" he questions, stepping alongside it and reaching into the black saddlebag.
"Not exactly," you hesitate, "I've just never been on one before."
He pulls out a red, half helmet and offers it to you.
"Don't worry, I won't let you fall off," he replies, amused.
You look between him and the headgear a moment before taking it.
"Besides," he says, swinging his leg over the seat, "All you have to do is hang on."
With no argument to make, and rain drops beginning to sprinkle down, you pull your hair back and fasten the helmet on. You nearly lose your balance trying to throw your leg over, having to grab his shoulder to steady yourself. He didn't seem to mind; you could have sworn you heard him snicker. You settle into the seat, heart racing from being so close to him. More anxious than ever, you lightly place your hands on his back.
"All good back there?" Arthur asks, a smile in his voice.
"All good," you repeat, unconvincingly.
"Alright then," he says, turning the key.
Seconds later, the motorcycle roars to life as he revs the engine. Arthur eases the bike back slowly, pivots out of the lot, and eases it up to the main road. The instant he accelerates, the force kicks you backward. You throw your arms around his torso, pulling yourself against him. Over the noise of the machine, you weren't sure if the rumbling in your ear that followed was thunder or laughter, but you figured was the latter.
With the bar now behind you, and the rain coming down harder with the increasing speed, you bury your face into his back and hold on tightly.
The lighthouse comes into view just as the skies open up. Arthur maneuvers the bike up the slippery, sand driveway and quickly shuts it off. He gives you his hand as you climb off and leads you toward the house.
The helmet offers some protection from the downpour, but the wind blows the spray into your face as you squint to see. Lightning above illuminates the world like daylight as you scramble up onto the porch.
Arthur throws the front door open and lets you in first as you stumble inside the dark house. You take a few blind steps forward as he slams it shut behind him, thunder making the windows rattle.
"Man, someone must have really pissed off Thor," he laughs. His relief, however, is turned to exasperation as you hear a clicking sound followed by a sigh.
"Power's out. Awesome."
Still trying to catch your breath, you pull out your phone, struggling with wet fingers to use touchscreen. Finally the flashlight turns on, and Arthur throws his hand up over his eyes as you accidentally shine it right at his face.
"Sorry," you pant, pointing it down.
"No worries. That's a good idea, actually. I always forget about this thing," he remarks, grabbing his own phone and doing the same, "One second, I think Pops has some candles in the kitchen."
You nod as he disappears into the next room. Now remembering the dripping helmet on your head, you release the strap with your free hand and set it down on the mat beside the door. A shiver goes through you from your soaked clothes. You point your phone about the shadowy room to get your bearings, admiring the otherwise cozy living area. As you sweep the light downward, something large and metallic glints on the coffee table in front of the sofa and catches your eye. You move closer to get a better look, and then your heart drops to your feet. Lying beside a bag of jerky and the TV remote is a massive, gleaming trident of gold. A memory flashes through your mind of an article you'd seen weeks ago, with a fuzzy photo of an alleged aquatic hero holding a weapon just like it. The pieces come together all at once as you realize the identity of your host.
The very next second, you hear Arthur's approach. He returns with a lit candle in each hand and a blanket under his arm, only to find your expression of complete and utter shock.
"You...you're..." you stammer.
"Oof, I knew I forgot to put something away," he cringes, "My bad."
"You're the Aquaman," you gape, finding the words.
"Surprise," he says in a sing-song voice, flashing a nervous smile, "Yeah, I never really know how to bring that up.
You stare at him dumbfounded as he places the candles on the coffee table. "I can't believe it. Aren't you supposed to be like...well, in Atlantis or something?"
"I was, earlier this morning. Just about died of boredom in council meetings," he says matter-of-factly, proceeding to talk as if he had a desk job, "I'm kinda part-timing right now, between land and sea. It's complicated. I'm still new to the whole 'king' thing. Don't have all the kinks worked out yet."
"I'd imagine," you breathe, your mind still reeling.
"Here, figured you need this." He holds out the blanket, completely unphased by the previous subject, "Do you drink tea? I can make some for you."
You take the blanket and chuckle in bewilderment. "Um, sure. That would be great," you answer, "Thank you."
"One tea coming up," he smiles, "Uh, just make yourself comfortable, I'll get the fire going here a minute, after I find the dog. Pretty sure he's hiding under Pops' bed upstairs. He's terrified of storms. Ironic right? Lighthouse keeper's dog afraid of a little water."
"I don't blame him this time," you say, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders, "I think you were right about Thor."
As if on cue, another boom of thunder shakes the walls. You both burst out laughing.
A few minutes later, you find yourself sitting on the floor in front of a roaring fire with a warm mug in your hands, finally beginning to feel dry. Having been unsuccessful in coaxing the dog into joining him downstairs, Arthur settles down beside you crossed-legged, damp hair tied up, trading the tea for a can of Guinness. Your thoughts rage like the storm outside as you stare into the flames, agonizing about what you should say.
Arthur speaks a moment later, saving you the trouble.
"Sorry about the power. I'll call you that cab as soon as it comes back."
"That's okay, I'm not in a hurry," you reply.
You look over at him hopefully, meeting his piercing gaze for as long as you can. Mere seconds pass before you bow your head, heart racing while you repress a smile.
"I'm uh, sure you've got some questions about all this," he ventures, rubbing the back of his head.
"Honestly, with the night I've had, meeting 'Aquaman' is par for the course," you smirk.
"I didn't mean to spring it on you like that. I guess you can understand why I don't lead with the whole King of Atlantis thing. Kinda makes it hard to keep a conversation going once people know you 'can talk to fish.' They don't really see you the same after that."
"Yeah, I think I'd probably keep that to myself too," you agree, the awe returning full-force, "Still, it must be amazing. I mean, you're basically ruler of the ocean, right? Or is it just Atlantis?"
"Eh, I mean there's the other kingdoms-"
"There's more?!" you blurt out, wide-eyed.
"Oh yeah. Xebel, the Fishermen, the Brine, a couple of defunct ones no one wants talks about. We got a few."
"And you're the ruler over all of them?"
He shrugs. "More or less. I mean, they each have their own ruler. But then I'm also over them? Kinda? I'm still figuring crap out, they didn't exactly give me a rule book on my first day. Plus I have answer to this royal council and they've got sticks up their butts about everything I do and say," he groans, rolling his eyes, "I like to consider myself more of a 'protector of the deep' than a ruler. Sounds more cool, and less like an old fart with a crown."
You giggle, hanging on every his every word.
"And with this bad boy right here," he says, reaching behind him and patting the trident, "I command all life in the sea. The animals anyway. Between you and me, that's the best part."
"You definitely have a cooler job than me," you beam.
"It definitely has its perks. But most of the time, I'd rather be here," he sighs, punctuated by a swig of his beer.
A visible sadness washes over him as he looks into the fire.
"You aren't from Atlantis?" you question.
"No, I was raised by my father. My parents met on accident. My mother was queen of Atlantis, and she ran away from her not-so-nice guy fiancé. She got lost in a storm, and my father rescued her. They've always said it was..."
Arthur stops and turns his gaze towards you, realization in his eyes.
Your heart skips as you understand. "Fate?"
He nods thoughtfully. "Something like that."
You blink, letting him go on.
"Anyway, I know I have a calling to the sea, but the land is always going to be a part of me, you know?" His expression softens. "Here, I've always found everything I need."
His words linger in the air between you. You look down at your hands, your chest pounding.
He clears his throat. "Sorry, I know that was a lot of info."
"Just a little bit," you reply teasingly, "But your secret's safe with me, Arthur. I promise. I've got no one to tell anyway."
"Don't worry, I trust you," he says, waving his hand, "It's actually nice to have someone else to share it with."
"I'm honored that you did. I know it's not the same, but I do understand what it's like to feel that you don't belong," you confess, "I didn't fit in my 'kind' either. Moved out here to start over. I guess you could say I'm still trying to figure some crap out too."
He pauses in thought second before responding, "Do you mind if I ask you something, Y/N?"
"After everything I've asked you? I'd say it's definitely your turn," you chuckle, taking a sip of your forgotten tea.
"I saw you at the bar before you went outside. I couldn't help but notice that you were there by yourself..."
"You noticed correctly. I was supposed to meet someone for a date, but after saying he was on his way, he never showed. I tried to text him, but he blocked me. I don't even know why."
"Nothing like being stood up at some backwater bar," he concludes, frowning, "Well, screw that guy. He's a bum."
"Yeah, I figured that out too late," you agree, then give him a knowing look, "The evening wasn't a total loss. I did meet you, after all."
"That's true," he concedes, playfully stroking his beard, "I may be a half-breed rookie king, but I'm not a bum."
You snort and gesture to the television set on your right, "So much for your marathon though, huh?"
"Ah, that's alright. They were all re-runs anyway."
You raise your eyebrow. "Think I could still hear that impression?"
He holds a finger to his chin in mock deliberation, "Hmmm, have I had enough to drink for that?
"I don't know, have you?" You lean in with anticipation.
He flashes a sly grin. "Of course I bloody have," he declares in the most hackneyed attempt at a British accent you'd ever heard, "And you better listen up, because I'm about to tell you everything there is to know about how to cook a bloody good flounder."
Your sides ache with laughter as he continues to go on a tangent about how to properly sauté shallots and season the perfect demi-glace. The voice sounded nothing like the infamously tempermental chef, of course, but you still thought his attempt was cute. By the time he was yelling at his invisible staff for serving him raw fish, the storm outside had passed, and neither of you noticed.
As Arthur went to light the stove to warm up some "gourmet" SpaghettiOs, still boisterously carrying on as Chef Ramsay, your excited thoughts returned to the story about his parents. You couldn't help but wonder about your own stormy night, the man you had met, and how much of a hand fate had played in it. The horizon seemed so much brighter than before, and for the first time ever, you were grateful to have bought that car.
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richardgrimes · 1 month
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Atlantis stands ready to help contribute it science and technology...and with your knowledge of the air, and our knowledge of the seas, together we can write the next chapter in our story rather than its ending. AQUAMAN AND THE LOST KINGDOM (2023)
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