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help a girl out :,)
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World's most divorced man becomes first human to be alienated from both biological and digital children.
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my royal roomie pt. 3
fandom: Aquaman
pairing: Orm Marius x Reader
part 1 part 2
summary: As time passes, Orm begins to see you as more than his surface dweller host. Much to his surprise, you’ve captured his attention, which in turn makes him notice just how physically affectionate you are with everyone except him.
word count: 5500+
warnings: light cursing, touch starved!orm, light angst if you squint, comic lore inaccuracies, slow burn, divorced parents!reader, dead parents!reader, mentions of being smaller in comparison to orm, flora inaccuracies??
a/n: hey...how y'all doin :,) i'm sorry i lagged on this part for MONTHS, but i finally had some spare time and motivation to finish it, so here ya go!
The dynamic between you and Orm didn’t make a complete 180 after your late night talk - in fact, it was quite awkward for the first few days following. Orm, although now deciding to actually be in the same room as you for longer than five minutes, didn’t talk much when you were in each other’s presence. The Atlantean favored just observing you in your natural habitat - when you cooked, when you read, when you talked with people on the phone. You often extended invitations to him to join in your activities, but a silent shake of his platinum head was what you were regularly met with. You tried not to take offense, understanding that small steps forward was better than leaps backward, but you couldn’t help but feel a little unnerved by his probing gaze.
Your expressions when meeting Orm’s eyes were always one of the three - confused, apprehensive, or downright shy. Orm liked playing a silent game with himself whenever he would wait in the communal areas of the house for you, guessing which one would take over your face that day. However, what the Atlantean liked most of all was when you would deviate from all three and bless him with a sheepish look that teetered between flushed and guilty. Although there would be no evident redness behind your cheeks, your flitting eyes and soft smile gave him a new type of satisfaction. Orm wasn’t blind - he could tell you were attracted to him. His heightened senses could pick up on your increase of breaths and the quickening of your heartbeat whenever his eyes would be fixed on you and it made pride swell in his chest. Even with how apparent your interest in him was, you never overstepped - you were always respectful of his space, never even entertaining the fine line between roommates and friends. You had remained awfully friendly, though….
…friendly enough for Orm to realize that the way you interacted with him was vastly different to how you would with others.
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With about two weeks of convincing, multiple threats of rescinding meals, and embarrassing bouts of wide-eyed pleading you had finally worn down the blonde enough to get him to come to town with you. You chose to avoid densely populated areas like the park, the marketplace, or the downtown areas. Even though Orm had proven to be a fine roommate to you, adding other unfamiliar people to the mix could make him uncomfortable. The marina was also out of the question, per Arthur’s suggestion - something about “drying the fucker out a little, karma’s a bitch.” You learned from a young age not to question Arthur’s methods.
The plan was set - you’d bring Orm to the flower shop to act as your assistant for the time being and then you’d end the night at Izzie’s Diner to eliminate the need for grocery shopping. It was going to be like a “Bring Your Kid to Work'' Day scenario, except instead of a kid you’d be bringing a six-foot-something, human hating, Atlantean beefcake to your little store.
From the moment you two had set foot into your establishment, it was clear to Orm that this was your element. The wide variety of flora had caught his attention straight away, his mind immediately drawing comparisons to the plant life of Atlantis. However, your shop wasn’t nearly as flashy or fluorescent - no, your shop was much more intimate. From the hand-painted script on the window to the worn forest green stain on the wood, your shop presented itself as a little slice of heaven to all patrons that entered.
You were quick to put Orm to work, not being shy in showing him that you took pride in your vocation. The first task you had set up for him was to set the premade bouquets out on the displays outside, meticulously instructing him on how you wanted them arranged by color family. (Gods know whatever a “color family” was.) You then had him move large vases of separated flowers into the sunroom - You have the upper body power, you told him, I doubt it’ll be that taxing for you. Once you were satisfied with the layout of the store and Orm had grumbled your ear off plenty, you were ready to open. As to be expected in a small town, there wasn’t much business towards the dead hours of the day, but you had always found something to do to keep busy.
When you were awarded the company of customers, they were always regulars - or at least that’s what Orm deduced. The blonde prince would watch as your eyes brightened and the corners of your lips would turn up impossibly high whenever someone familiar would walk through the door. Not that your smile would be any less bright for a new customer (and not that Orm was watching close enough to tell the difference or anything). You always had sweet words for all that entered into the shop - it was a wonder you didn’t come home completely silent due to exhaustion.
“Does it get tiring?”
Orm’s question stole your attention away from the stems you were trimming, making you turn over your shoulder with a confused expression.
“Does what get tiring?” You asked.
“That attitude. All of-” Orm puts on a fake smile, “-that.”
You roll your eyes at his dramatics, tossing loose stem bits in his direction which he effortlessly bats away.
“Customer service is a vital part of the job - you get used to it...”
You looked around the shop, reminiscing over your time attending to the customers.
“...and the people of Amnesty Bay are sweet. It’s not hard to reciprocate.”
You spoke as if it was a matter of fact, quickly dismissing all of Orm’s skepticism with one sentence. You didn’t bother arguing further with the Atlantean, thinking that it would do no good to lecture him after putting him to work. Orm had no choice but to hum to himself as he reflected on your words and your easy-going demeanor.
Before he could interrogate you further, your doorbell chimed announcing the arrival of new customers, ones that clearly excited you enough to make you let out a small squeal.
“Sampsons!” You greeted the family happily, practically leaping over the counter to throw your arms around the expecting wife. Orm watched from his peripherals as you cooed cheery greetings to the party of 3 (and a half?), deciphering that these people were your friends. The husband, wife, and young son laughed heartily at your enthusiasm, smiling down at you with equal merriment.
“Girl, you are growing by the minute! How has the pregnancy been?” You stop flitting about the group like a hummingbird to focus on the woman, brushing softly at her hair as you take in her appearance. Orm could see you beaming at her from the corner of his eye, unable to look away from the sight for some reason.
The people surrounding him in Atlantis were always prim and proper, no surprise due to their noble status - never bobble out of place or an expression unpinched. So, seeing how jovial and lively you were when interacting with your friends was entirely new to the prince.
Orm also couldn’t help but notice just how…touchy you were with them. Your eyes never leave your friend - Mrs. Sampson, he presumes - as you softly move strands of hair out of her face, fully engrossed in every word she points in your direction. Your hands stay clasped in hers as your thumb rubs comforting circles at her knuckles. The affection came so naturally with you - this type of petting would undoubtedly turn heads in his kingdom, surely being improper in the eyes of nobility. Mrs. Sampson’s family seemed rather comfortable as well, the young son stepping away from his father numerous times to hug at your legs, which you always acknowledged with a ruffle to his curls.
The love-dripping display before him made Orm feel an unfamiliar tug at his chest, one that he could best describe as longing. Longing for what, Orm doesn’t know (and surely would never admit). The inner thoughts manifest into a particularly pinched expression, which Mr. Sampson notices right away.
“Psst-” your friend’s husband whispers to you. “Who’s the scary blonde?”
You swiftly turn away from your friend to find Orm with his arms crossed, staring from a distance with furrowed brows and pursed lips. You make your way to stand next to him again, proving he means no harm. You’ve been around the Atlantean long enough to know that he was only sporting his inquisitive expression, but you understood that his intimidating stature could paint his curiosity as animosity.
Orm scoffed lightly as his metahuman ears picked up on the husband’s whisper which made you elbow him under the counter in turn, your smile never faltering. While your actions slightly bruised his ego more than his actual skin, he couldn’t help but feel a little impressed at your bravery considering he’s smited others for less. He’d never say it out loud, but you’re much more appealing than his previous offenders - much too appealing indeed.
“Oh shut up, Jonny,” Mrs. Sampson says to her husband as she swats him. She leans over the counter to hold a hand out to him. “I’m Janie - I know, Janie and Jonny sounds like an awful sitcom but that’s just how the pieces fell for us. And this is our son, Miloh-”
Orm reluctantly takes the chipper woman’s hand, being cautious to not accidentally overuse his strength and squeeze too hard. He didn’t really understand any of the words she was saying, but she had a kind eyes and a warm smile that were similar to yours. Orm supposed that you are what you attract.
“This is Or-Orion!” You’re quick to correct, semi-aware of the Atlantean prince’s reputation with the people of Amnesty Bay. “He’s Arthur’s friend - he’s staying with me for a bit.” You pat at Orm’s shoulder, displaying a mask of familiarity to your friends to throw off any suspicions about his true heritage. Orm doesn’t acknowledge the trail of fire your hand leaves when you remove it from his shoulder. The family waves back to him with similar eye crinkling smiles, the young boy looking up at the Atlantean in awe at the sheer mass of him.
“Anyway, what did y’all come here for?”
You loop your arm through Janie’s, whisking her away and leaving “Orion” to stand quietly behind the counter with Jonny and their son. Before you were fully out of his hearing radius, Orm picked up on Janie’s whisper to you: “He’s cute, girl.” You’re quick to shush your friend, taking her to the opposite corner of the shop to look at floral arrangements. The blonde couldn’t help that his chest swelled with pride at quick comment.
“So, how do’ya like Amnesty Bay, Orion?” Jonny asks, pushing his thick framed glasses up his slender nose. He lets Miloh roam free upon feeling his squirming to loosen his father’s hand from his shoulder.
“It’s…more pleasant than I anticipated - peaceful.”
Jonny laughs lightly, hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “You used to the city then?”
“Yes, large in population and dense. A far cry from this town.”
Orm and Jonny watch as Miloh comes up behind you to hug at your waist, giggling when you make a big reaction upon him “surprising” you. You swoop the boy into your arms while you continue talking to his mother, the boy basking in the affection you give him. It’s a welcome sight to Orm, one that Jonny notices.
“Has she been a good host to you?”
The Atlantean peels his eyes away from the scene that unexpectedly warms his chest to address the man, pretending to not notice the knowing look on his angular features.
“She has been…very gracious indeed.”
“Ah, I wouldn’t expect anything less. Y’know she put us up for two weeks when our roof got totaled by the tidal wave? That girl is too nice for her own good, I swear…”
Orm couldn’t deny your kindness, he had been on the receiving end of it for the past few weeks that he’s roomed with you. Your patience and understanding were the traits that made boarding with you so…seamless.
“Yes, she is. Very much so.”
Jonny, sensing the blonde had little else to say, gave him a polite smile before following after his wife and son. Orm watches as the family embrace you (metaphorically) into their circle, your arms encircling Janie and Miloh naturally. The way you so easily welcome them into your space without a second thought, balancing Miloh on your hip as you twirl at Janie’s hair that falls on her shoulder. He couldn’t help but stare - stare at your gummy smile, at your rosy cheeks, at everywhere your hands fall…
“Alright, I’ll come to yours next week with some sample bouquets and you can choose from there. I’m so excited for you!” Your merry voice rings through the shop as you see the Sampsons out, placing one final kiss on Miloh’s chubby cheek before sending them off with a wave.
When you return to your spot behind the counter, you still have a warm smile lingering on your face. Orm catches it before you do, watching you recompose yourself with a more professional expression.
“They are a…colorful bunch.”
You practically guffaw at his sudden commentary, covering it up with the back of your hand.
“Yeah, definitely lively. Arthur thinks they’re fairies or wood sprites or something.”
“...I see it.”
You find yourself quietly delighted that Orm is entertaining your nonsense talk, making you notice that he’s standing a step closer. You will yourself to loosen the muscles in your back that make you stand erect now that there is less space between you. You also pretend that you don’t notice Orm side eyeing you at the gesture.
“They told me Izzy’s is closing early for the night, so we’ll need to go grocery shopping on the way back home. I hope that’s okay…”
“Whatever is acceptable for you.”
You nod at each other in silent agreement before going back to trimming stems, Orm unsure of why his side that’s closest to you is humming with electricity.
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The grocery shop you take Orm to is thankfully more empty due to closing time drawing near. You take on cart pushing duty in lieu of passing it on to Orm since he looked at the contraption like it was cursed. Giving Orm a onceover to make sure he was all settled before heading into the store. You choose not to circle around the seafood section just yet, unwilling to be around when the prince would undoubtedly scrunch his face up with a look of disapproval.
“I’ll probably just cook some pasta tonight - nothing too crazy, I’m kinda tired.”
“...you do not have to cook for us. We can order that food Arthur mentioned - granted the words he used to describe it were disgusting - something like ‘juicy’ or ‘cheesy’-”
You nearly stop the cart as you laugh at Orm’s words dripping with disdain, shaking your head at the clear understanding of Arthur’s character.
“I’m assuming he’s talking about a cheeseburger - he’s always had an unceasing enthusiasm for food.”
You stop in the aisle reaching up for a box of what looked like yellow screws to Orm, getting on your tiptoes to reach it but with no success. The Atlantean takes pity on you and gets the box for you, being met with your gracious smile when he places it in your cart. You nod at him sheepishly, hands flexing by the handle of the cart as you shoot Orm a grateful look.
“Ah, thanks-”
When his arm brushes against yours as it passes the food over to your cart, Orm takes note of how stiff you go for a moment. You quickly relax yourself - albeit it seemed like you needed to put some effort into it. A part of him tries not to feel offended at the action, quieting his own curiosity at being the cause of your brief uncomfortability. The other part of him wishes to push you further - to brush against you again to see how you would react to a more firm touch.
“Um, excuse me?”
A soft elderly voice coming from behind you interrupts both of your inner monologues. When you both turn over your shoulders you’re met with the sight of an elderly woman bundled in a thick jacket and chunky beanie hiding her white locks.
“Yes, ma’am?”
Your sweet words ring through Orm’s ears, noting their slightly higher octave as if to appear as non-threatening to the elderly stranger as possible.
“I-I was wondering if you could help me find this brand of bread flour? My grandson is visiting me tomorrow and I always make his favorite snickerdoodles with this brand - I can’t seem to find it-”
“Sure! It should be in this aisle too, at the end-”
You walk in time with the smaller woman, heart clenching at the slow and unsteady steps she takes by your side. Orm follows closely behind as he watches the exchange, brows furrowing at how easily you offer up your arm for the woman to hold onto. When you make it to the end of the aisle, you quickly spot the brand the woman was looking for at the very top shelf, no doubt the reason she was unable to find it on her own.
“Ah, it’s all the way up there, no wonder you didn’t see it.”
“Maybe we can ask one of the workers to help get it - though there aren’t many around now-”
Orm steps forward to be in both of your guys’ lines of sight.
“Please, allow me.”
Orm’s hand reaches up to scan through each brand.
“This one, yes?”
“Yes, the very one!”
Orm grabs two of the flour bags with ease, holding them in his muscular arms.
“Another for the next time your grandson visits. It’s best to be well prepared.”
You watch with slightly widened eyes as he carefully places the flour in the woman’s arms, making sure they stay secure.
“Uh - do you want help getting it to the register? We just about have everything we need-”
“I’m alright! This old girl still has some strength in her.”
You and Orm share a soft laugh at the comment, decidedly letting the woman be off on her own in favor of kicking up a fuss.
“Thank you both, lovely couple you are.”
“Oh we-”
Before you could correct her, she leaves you with a squeeze to your hand, one which you return as your cheeks warm upon her departure. Orm’s stare lingers on your hands as they return to your sides, an unfamiliar pinching feeling stirring in his gut.
“I - uh - I think we have everything we need.”
You are noticeably further from Orm, keeping at least an arm’s distance from him as you push your cart. (Not that he notices those things.) He makes an effort to keep his strides short so as to not get in your space since it’s clearly what you wish. It’s quiet when you pay for your goods and it’s quiet when you load up the car. Orm takes note of how rigid your posture is when you drive away from the grocery store, but makes no comment on it. The quick shift in your demeanor puzzled the Atlantean to no end. You weren’t meant to be hard to navigate - you were human for the gods’ sakes. You were human and yet Orm found himself unable to read you during times like this when you would retreat into yourself and just look onward. He was also puzzled by how much he wanted to read you, to gain a deeper understanding of the inner workings of your mind.
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After unpacking all the food and a long shower, you seemed to go back to normal, meaning Orm had no place to question your mannerisms through the day which he was (embarrassingly) overanalyzing in his head ever since you both got home. Now having built rapport with Orm’s working skills, you tasked him with washing the vegetables that you would cook for a side. You couldn’t help but smile at how conservative the Atlantean was being with his water usage, your own usage mirroring his. Still new to human appliances, Orm thought it was best to the side as you began preparing dinner. Orm liked watching you flit around the kitchen when you cooked - it was like an organized chaos of sorts. While you were clumsy in a lot of your actions from mincing garlic to measuring out ingredients, you always made it to your end product. The prince had no room to complain about the surface at times like this when you would greet him with your good smelling food and a warm smile to let him know that dinner was ready.
“Hope you’re hungry, I kinda made a lot. I’m still trying to gauge how much Atlanteans eat - I mean I know Arthur eats a shit ton, but that’s Arthur-”
“This is fine,” Orm interjects your rambling with a hand up. “Thank you for preparing the meal.”
You smile over your shoulder at his polite words, moving to prepare the plates. Orm momentarily looks around your living space again, analyzing for the 100th time since boarding with you. Before he can get full surveillance of the room, the sound of a sharp his and a plate clattering onto the counter grabs his attention. The sight of you clutching your wrist puts the blonde on high alert, his long legs taking a few steps to come to your side.
“What happened-”
“I’m fine, Orm, I just got too close to the pan when plating-”
“Let me see-”
“No, I’m good-”
When Orm’s hand reaches out to take a look at your burn, you seize back quicker than when your skin got singed on the pan. His eyes widen briefly before they settle back to their neutral expression with something else burning in them. Orm had tried to hide his shock and annoyance (and in part a feeling of rejection) from your wishes to keep a physical barrier between you two, but now it was directly in his face. He could no longer ignore it.
When you try to maneuver around Orm to get to the ice in your freezer, your actions are brought to a halt when Orm’s hands on your shoulders keep you firmly in place. You look up at the Atlantean with a look of abject shock and fear when you feel how your skin sings under the weight of his heavy hands.
“Orm-”
“You will stop this nonsense at once.”
“Excuse me?”
“Do I disgust you to such a degree that you cannot stand to touch me?”
Your slightly agape mouth closes immediately, your surprised face changing to one of confusion as your narrowed eyes assess Orm’s burning expression.
“What? No, that’s not-”
“Oh please, human, I can see it in your body language how you practically jump away from me at any sign of closeness. Is my blood what adds fuel to your fear? Does my very presence make the hairs stand up at the back of your neck? You should be scared-”
With a groan you quickly cover Orm’s mouth with your hand, ignoring how your hands over his lips makes your breathing quicken.
“Shut up and let me explain, will you?”
Your fire is hard for Orm to ignore as well as the closeness of your face to his when you end his tirade. However, you quickly step back from him to speak, the both of you letting out breaths you didn’t know you were holding.
“Firstly, do not call me ‘human.’ You know my name and use of anything else is degrading.”
The way you huff up at him makes Orm’s scowl soften slightly, your pinched features and smaller stature making a lethally adorable combination.
“And second, I am not ‘disgusted’ by you - you’re just a person and there’s nothing about you that could disgust me-”
“Your actions say otherwise-”
“Let me finish, Jesus. You and Arthur are related.”
You fiddle with the edges of your sleeves as you try to collect your thoughts to accurately depict how you feel to the perplexed prince.
“I…The reason I keep my distance - why I try to avoid contact with you like that - I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
A brief silence passes over the two of you, Orm’s furrowed brows willing you to continue.
“All you’ve known of surface dwellers is how we’ve polluted your oceans, taken your resources, and overall contributed to the worsening of your living state. I…I didn’t want to touch you in case it made you feel weird or something. You already have to live in close quarters with me, I didn’t wanna make you even more suffocated.”
It was Orm’s turn to be shocked. His mouth slightly falls agape when you finish speaking, his face relaxing when he realizes the reason for your hesitance. You weren’t disgusted with him - in fact it was the total opposite. You had such an immense respect for his possible boundaries that you had been hyper aware of your own actions to maintain them. Your thoughtfulness knew no bounds, that much was becoming clear to him.
“I-” Orm starts, a notably softer tone than before, “-I don’t feel uncomfortable with you. I would hardly name what respite you have provided me as ‘suffocating’.”
Your brows tilt up, pupils widening at his words.
“Oh. Okay…that’s good then.”
You would admit that your reply was quite lame, but those were all the words you could muster when face-to-face with Orm’s kind eyes.
“I didn’t realize my actions were so obvious. I’m sorry if it seemed like I didn’t like you or anything-”
“It’s fine. It had only become evident to me when I saw how you interact with others.”
“How so?”
Did you truly not know how affectionate you were to the people in your life - to the people that came around you? How your demeanor unconsciously encouraged anyone within your vicinity to melt into your warmth. It was hard for Orm to believe you were unaware of the affect you had on people.
“You are…very touchy with those around you. With the Sampsons in your store-”
“Well, they’re practically family-
“With that elderly woman from the market-”
“She seemed so frail, I wanted to just be of assistance-”
“My point still stands. You are so forward with your kindness - with your affection. It was easy to notice the difference in the way you are around me.”
“I really didn’t mean to offend you, I just didn’t wanna overstep-”
“You couldn’t overstep.”
Orm’s words stun you into a silence, your heart beating at a faster rate after the Atlantean prince had essentially given you permission to touch him. Did he want you to touch him? Clearly he was bred to be perceptive - an observer as well as a leader - so it was no surprise that he could sense your hesitance to be close to him. However, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was something he was thinking about - overthinking about, even.
“I - Well…does it bother you? Me not touching you - does that bother you?”
Orm coughs to himself, fiddling with the buckle of his belt in a slightly nervous manner you had never seen him display before.
“Bother is a strong word. Though I did feel somewhat slighted.”
You laugh to yourself in the way that Orm likes, the one where your gaze diverts from his and your head lolls back. It gives him a view of the length of your neck, an elegant shape that his eyes can’t help but be drawn to.
“We can fix that now if you like?”
Even with his noble ability to breathe on land, Orm almost chokes at your words.
“Not in a weird way!” Your hands wave in front of him, trying to backtrack from how suggestive you may have sounded. “Like, we can do small things to break the ice, y’know, so we don’t have to tiptoe around each other anymore.
“...what do you suggest?”
With a soft sigh, your hand comes up, palm open with wiggling fingers. The hopeful smile you shoot him occupies a space in his chest - filling him with something he hasn’t felt in a long time.
“We can hold hands for a bit, kinda like a trust exercise! Up to you how long or when, but maybe breaking the physical touch boundary will make things less awkward?”
Your hand never drops as you rest against the counter, not moving from your place as you continue to look up at Orm with your sparkling eyes. The prince’s mind went haywire. If Orm wasn’t convinced earlier that you honestly weren’t disgusted by him, he was definitely sure now. All you needed was his permission, and now - in a fashion true to your nature - you were welcoming him to bask in your warm affections.
The blond was frozen in his place, a measly two paces separating you yet it felt like miles. Your eyes searched his face, his expression devoid of any emotion but his mind running laughably rampant, as you waited patiently for him to close the gap. Even now with his consent, you still waited for him to be ready - waited for him to come to you.
He let go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding, taking a cautionary step forward towards your outstretched hand. Your fingers wriggled slightly in anticipation, a goofy smile on your face as you waited for him to cross the intangible bridge leading to you. Orm’s eyes never left your hand, his pulse racing as he closed more distance between you - this was what he asked for, so he had no right to be scared now.
When his large hand finally takes yours, your shoulders visibly relax and your smile widens. You couldn’t fully place what you were feeling and why, but all you knew was that it felt nice.
“Okay! That’s not so bad, huh?”
All Orm can do now is laugh - laugh at your casual demeanor and laugh at himself for his hammering chest. Truly, he shouldn’t have been surprised by how welcoming you were to hearing his qualms and quickly attending to them. You have consistently been a good, honest, and lovely host to him even when he gave you little in return. However, he was surprised by how much your kind nature had extended to him knowing how much suffering he had brought to your town for some time.
“No. Not bad.” Orm responds gruffly.
Your eyes crinkle as you laugh up at him, squeezing at his palm.
“Okay, I think we’ve stood through the exercise for long enou-”
Orm’s grip on your hand tightens as he makes another step towards you.
“No.”
You blink up at him in confusion.
“No?”
Orm coughs again.
“No, I…I’m not finished with the exercise.”
Your cheeks grow impossibly warm, making you swear at yourself for your obvious bashfulness.
“Oh. Well, okay then. We can do it for as long as you like.”
And here you were again, being as understanding as ever of Orm’s needs. Orm had assumed humans were quite simple - easy to understand due to their lack of brain capacity and advancement in comparison to Atlanteans. However, watching how different you were in your shop - witnessing you change from the selectively quiet, sarcastic little thing you were at home to a vivacious, charming young woman there - it had confused him greatly. Even now, you were extending so much of your kindness towards him when there was nothing for you to gain in the end. His father had told him many stories of the treacheries of humankind, but the one point he drilled relentlessly into his head was that humans were simple, dull creatures undeserving of their people’s knowledge. Why did he seem so wrong now?
Other sea clans felt that when the time came to reveal themselves to the surface that it would only be to educate them - his father had other ideas. The infamous King Orvax wished to utilize the wrath of the seas in order to overpower the surface world, his son at his side as they rebuilt the world in their image. His teachings were the foundation of Orm’s belief system for the majority of his life, yet you had managed to topple those mind palaces within a matter of weeks. You, with your soft knits and quick wit, had the Atlantean prince questioning whether his father had simply been misinformed. His father couldn’t have possibly known how complex humans could truly be because he never met you.
“I would like that. I want to stay like this for a while. For as long as you'll have me."
Orm whispers, almost like a prayer meant for just the two of you.
“Sure. We can stay like this. Let’s stay like this.”
Your smaller hand squeezes his, a miniscule action that was stirring tidal waves in Orm’s gut. The reassurance of your presence was all he needed, so for the first time in forever Orm lets himself stand still in the moment, no thoughts of the future or of the throne. Just you and him in your tiny kitchen.
.
.
.
A/N: I know, months of procrastinating and the main build up is for them to HOLD HANDS. Sue me, I love a slow burn.
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#orm marius x reader#aquaman imagine#orm marius x you#orm marius#orm marius fanfiction#orm marius imagine#aquaman
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i must be a whole year late, but my royal roomie pt. 3 coming soon...
#orm marius x reader#orm marius x you#aquaman#orm marius#orm marius fanfiction#aquaman imagine#aquaman fanfiction#orm marius imagine
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Boycotting is not a trend. “Not everyone has to boycott!” I don’t think I’ve ever seen more lazier people than this generation. You are a genuine weak human being, you have no self control, self respect or basic human emotions.
Palestinian children who have to collect rain water to drink, Palestinian children who have to starve to death because they have no food, Palestinian children plead out to the world for help, Palestinian children, who put their life in your hands and let you be their voice. Palestinian children who are actively dying because you cannot go a day without drinking your Starbucks. You are an embarrassment to humans and you are a waste of good air.
You have the option to go to McDonalds and you have the option to drink Starbucks. You have the option to go outside and be with your friends, you have the option to spend time with your family, you have the option to eat, to sleep, to drink, to live. PALESTINIANS DONT.
“Still not boycotting, it has nothing to do with me” did you know that the planet-warming emissions generated during the first two months of the war in Gaza were greater than the annual carbon footprint of more than 20 of the world’s most climate-vulnerable nations…..
The Gaza-Isreal war has let out more carbon dioxide than Afghanistan, Bangladesh, Barbados, Bhutan, Costa Rica, Ethiopia, Ghana, Kenya, Kiribati, Madagascar, Maldives, Nepal, Philippines, Rwanda, Saint Lucia, Tanzania, Timor-Leste, Tuvalu, Vanuatu and Vietnam annually.
Are you reading this? Can you comprehend this?

Here you can see the carbon usage of Israel.
We’re not boycotting just for fun. We’re boycotting because:
1. We don’t stand for genocide
2. We don’t fund genocide
3. We love our planet
4. WE HAVE MORALS
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hawt




this is so arthur and orm coded of them
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so much serotonin, fr
they’re so 😭
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my royal roomie pt. 3 *sneak peek*
fandom: Aquaman
pairing: Orm Marius x Reader
part 1 part 2
summary: As time passes, Orm begins to see you as more than his surface dweller host. Much to his surprise, you’ve captured his attention, which in turn makes him notice just how physically affectionate you are with everyone except him.
Warnings: light cursing, touch starved!orm, light angst if you squint, comic lore inaccuracies, slow burn, divorced parents!reader, dead parent mention, mentions of being smaller in comparison to orm, flora inaccuracies??
The dynamic between you and Orm didn’t make a complete 180 after your late night talk - in fact, it was quite awkward for the first few days following. Orm, although now deciding to actually be in the same room as you for longer than five minutes, didn’t talk much when you were in each other’s presence. The Atlantean favored just observing you in your natural habitat - when you cooked, when you read, when you talked with people on the phone. You often extended invitations to him to join in your activities, but a silent shake of his platinum head was what you were regularly met with. You tried not to take offense, understanding that small steps forward was better than leaps backward, but you couldn’t help but feel a little unnerved by his probing gaze.
Your expressions when meeting Orm’s eyes were always one of the three - confused, apprehensive, or downright shy. Orm liked playing a silent game with himself whenever he would wait in the communal areas of the house for you, guessing which one would take over your face that day. However, what the Atlantean liked most of all was when you would deviate from all three and bless him with a sheepish look that teetered between flushed and guilty. Although there would be no evident redness behind your cheeks, your flitting eyes and soft smile gave him a new type of satisfaction. Orm wasn’t blind - he could tell you were attracted to him. His heightened senses could pick up on your increase of breaths and the quickening of your heartbeat whenever his eyes would be fixed on you and it made pride swell in his chest. Even with how apparent your interest in him was, you never overstepped - you were always respectful of his space, never even entertaining the fine line between roommates and not just roommates. You had remained awfully friendly, though….
…friendly enough for Orm to realize that the way you interacted with him was vastly different to how you would with others.
---
Orm had assumed humans were quite simple - easy to understand due to their lack of brain capacity and advancement in comparison to Atlanteans. However, watching how different you were in your shop - witnessing you change from the selectively quiet, sarcastic little thing you were at home to a vivacious, charming young woman here - it had confused him greatly. His father had told him many stories of the treacheries of humankind, but the one point he drilled relentlessly into his head was that humans were simple, dull creatures undeserving of their people’s knowledge.
Other sea clans felt that when the time came to reveal themselves to the surface that it would only be to educate them - his father had other ideas. The infamous King Orvax wished to utilize the wrath of the seas in order to overpower the surface world, his son at his side as they rebuilt the world in their image. His teachings were the foundation of Orm’s belief system for the majority of his life, yet you had managed to topple those mind palaces within a matter of weeks. You, with your soft knits and quick wit, had the Atlantean prince questioning whether his father had simply been misinformed. His father couldn’t have possibly known how complex humans could truly be because he never met you.
(to be continued in the full part 3 coming soon!)
#orm marius x reader#orm marius x you#aquaman#aquaman imagine#dceu#arthur curry#orm marius imagine#orm x reader
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jaw is on the floor, gimme a minute
Was looking up photos and found these and ceased existing for a minute because GOOD LORD HOT DAMN


Test costume images from the first Aquaman apparently very surprised I've never seen these photos
HELLO SAILOR-
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hi y'all! i just saw the second aquaman tonight and my inspiration for writing for orm is fired TF UP! i know the timeline i set my fics in is gonna end up forcing some canon divergence, but eh it just means the slow burn can keep burning 🫣🫣 i also wanna take some time to explore arthur and the reader's friendship, so stay tuned for that 👌🏼anyway, a second part is coming soon! might not be as long as the first part, but around the same length as the second part!! thx for reading 💖
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tysm for the support! HAHA in due time he'll get there, but i like a slow burn 😮🫣
my royal roomie (part 2)
Fandom: Aquaman
Pairing: Orm Marius x Reader
part 1:
https://www.tumblr.com/gimme-a-man-after-midnight/693273500438429696/my-royal-roomie-pt-1?source=share
Summary: After a few days of living under your roof, Orm gets to know the little surface dweller he's been stuck with. With time, a stormy night, and a bottle of wine, the prince learns that he has more in common with you than he may think.
Word Count: 4,000+
Warnings: female reader, slow burn, light cursing, mentions of past emotional abuse, divorced parents!reader, dead parent, comic lore inaccuracies, floral inaccuracies??
Author's Note:
hi y'all! here's the full part 2 i've been working on for some time! thanks for the support on the last one and again, so sorry for the late continuation :/ i hope this story is to your liking! happy reading!
After the first one-on-one conversation you had in the living room, Orm didn't come out of the guest bedroom for days. You’d see flashes of platinum blonde out of the corner of your eye, just barely missing him by a few seconds whenever you’d be in the kitchen or outside of his door. You had made many offers through the red painted oak of his room to go grocery shopping together or take him on a tour of the town, but all of your efforts were met with a stern "No thank you." You had lost any hope you had of forming some kind of connection with the Atlantean for a while, cutting your losses by quietly resigning to a parallel existence. What you didn’t expect was the mutual understanding you two would come to on one fateful stormy Friday night, much like the one that brought him to your doorstep.
***
Heavy traffic from the drive home, a full message inbox on your telephone, and the burnt attempt at roast chicken sitting on your oven rack had you nursing a glass bottle of wine by the living room window. Bad days were normal for anybody, but it didn’t make them easier to deal with on your own - the added stress of the stranger living in your space didn’t help either. You had been living a quiet life ever since you moved back to the sleepy town some years ago, taking up very little space and leaving minimal traces of yourself. Whether it was out of caution or cowardice, you weren’t sure yet. Either way, that silence had brought you comfort at a time where your thoughts were too loud, but now with another person occupying your space the quiet was becoming suffocating.
Orm wasn’t by any means a bad roommate - he kept to himself, he didn’t make much noise, and he even managed to wash his dishes whenever he knew you weren’t in the kitchen - but he was a man.The last time you had lived with a man, the end of its course felt similar to how you two were living now, and maybe that’s why it was bothering you so much. Tip-toeing around the Atlantean made you feel uneasy in your own home, a situation you were all too familiar with. Typically at this time in the night you would be cooking up some plan to urge the man out of his guest room, but after the day you had, you didn’t have the heart to try.
Once you took your final gulp of wine, wiping at the sides of your mouth with the back of your hand, you trudged away from the raging display outside of your window. The dishes could be a tomorrow problem, you thought to yourself as you were leaving your kitchen counter behind. You had only made it a few paces out of the living room before your body was overcome with chills, making you draw your blanket tighter around you. The draft through the house was unmistakable, confusing you thoroughly due to you always making sure the doors and windows were shut before bed. As you stepped deeper into the house, you realized the distinct breeze was coming from the direction of the guest bedroom. You had made it a point to allow Orm his space, but your brain was stirring with reasons for what he could possibly be doing in there - most of them unsavory.
With a deep breath and a tight fist holding your blanket, you gently rapped at the door.
“Hey, Orm?”
No response. You knock again.
“I don’t mean to bother, but I’m feeling a bit of a breeze through the house and I can tell it’s coming from here, so I just want to see if everything is alri-”
The door suddenly opened a crack, revealing half of Orm’s face which was already more than you had seen in days.
“If you don’t mean to bother, then don’t.”
The curt response, although expected, has you taken aback. Already seeing the Atlantean retreat from the spot again, you hold the door in its place in effort to keep his attention.
“Look, I know you wanna be alone, but I can’t help wondering why a cold ass breeze is coming from your room, so I just want to see what’s going on. Please, it’s freezing right now.” You do your best to keep control of your tone, not wanting to let on just how much the cold was getting to you - giving the prince another reason to look down on humans wasn’t on your agenda for the night.
Almost as if he commanded the storm, the lightning cracked loudly outside as Orm swung his door open, revealing his full disheveled state to you. You jolted in place, practically leaping a step back in defense at the swift move.
“What’s going on is the stench of your burnt dinner was practically singeing my nostrils. I opened a window in hopes that I could find some relief, because clearly you surface dwellers have no trouble polluting not only the ocean, but your precious breathing air as well! I have little care for how cold your fragile body may get, so I suggest you retire to your room at once and leave me be.”
There was a gap in the yelling match conversation, almost as if the blond was waiting for you to bite back at his harsh words, but the glazed look in your eyes and parted lips made it evident to the Atlantean that your mind was elsewhere. Orm followed your gaze, noticing that it was locked onto the maroon sweater he was adorning, looking at it with equal parts surprise and melancholy. His enhanced hearing picked up on a hitch in your breath and chattering of your teeth, confirming to him that you were clearly shaken.
After the long silence, you mousily spoke.
“I didn’t leave that sweater out for you.”
The arbitrary words silenced Orm, his expression turning to one of confusion as he looked down at the knit fabric on his chest.
“...where did you find it?”
Your voice didn’t change in volume when you made your inquiry, but your tone was somber. The candid emotion made the Atlantean clear his throat awkwardly, unsure of how to handle such vulnerability from his host. You couldn’t even fully appreciate how much messier Orm looked in comparison to when he first arrived - looking like a 90s wet dream with his ungelled hair, clenched jaw, and broad shoulders peeking out of his loose fitting clothes. No, it was the clothes that were holding your attention hostage.
“It was deep in the wooden wardrobe of my room…the garb you set out for me wasn’t suitable for the storm,” Orm says, arms crossed in a defensive manner as he anticipates your response.
A part of you wanted to laugh at his retort, the corner of your lips quirking up for a millisecond before melting back into the numb expression you had prior.
“Are you going to ask me to change? Because I don’t see why I should relent,” the blond goads, pulling a haughty expression that comes all too naturally.
Orm wasn’t sure himself why he wanted to urge a response from you - why he wanted to learn more about this sweater that was clearly jumbling up your thoughts enough to render you so silent. He tried to chalk it up to plain boredom, tried to reason with himself that all his time in self-isolation was making him yearn for more. Still, even with those excuses lined up to justify his actions, he couldn’t explain why seeing the down-turned expression on your lips felt so unnerving. This woman in front of him now was like a shell in comparison to the buoyant, eccentric character he had been previously introduced to - and for some bizarre reason he didn’t like it.
Your thought process, on the other hand, was going in a completely different route. The glaringly red knit in your line of sight brought back too many memories that you had made efforts to bury. The cursed sweater in combination with the Atlantean prince’s snark makes your breath quicken and your mind wander to the whisper of a past life that still takes up space in your home. You couldn’t decipher if your shivering was coming from Orm’s open window or from your body trying to eject all of the feelings evoked from seeing that damn sweater.
“I-I…you…you shouldn’t-” you shakily exhale, your eyes surveying around your surroundings to try and focus on literally anything else. You backstep, hoping that physically running away from the situation will do you good, but your eyes lining up with the red-clad chest and the sound of the booming thunder makes you falter. Your hand clutches at your chest, the white knuckled grip on your blanket alerting your roommate.
The prince's body calls to action, making Orm take an instinctive step forward, reaching out as if to try and steady you.
“What is happening with you? Why are you so high-strung? Do humans go into cardiac arrest so easily?”
You couldn’t hear his stern questioning, your mind flitting to images of firm fists slammed against tables and nights spent alone, buried deep under your covers in the hopes of being swallowed by the sheets. It was like the space in your lungs was being taken up by a vice grip, and your ability to think - to form a simple thought that didn’t make your heart hurt - was completely ripped away from you. Even after four years, the memories of him still have so much power over you in a way that’s paralyzing.
“I-I just - I need - I need to breathe!”
With that final exclamation, you scurried away from the Atlantean, quickly making it back to your room before slamming the door shut behind you. Orm was left stunned outside of his door, his eyes trained in the direction of your room down the hall.
What the hell just happened?
***
Arthur was done - so done.
The newly crowned Atlantean king had so much on his plate already, what with his upcoming engagement underway and him having an entire kingdom to look after. While he did appreciate his little brother feeling comfortable enough to call him at such an ungodly hour, the words the blond uttered made him want to pull his hair out.
“I think I broke her - your human.”
“Bro, what?”
It was too fucking early for this.
“Don’t call me - agh, nevermind - something’s wrong with your human and I’m not sure how to approach the situation. Is this really an environment you believe me to find enrichment from? My host is clearly on the brink of some sort of breakdown and I-”
“Wow, I never took you for someone that was so easily shaken, brother.”
Arthur’s poorly timed quip makes Orm stare back at the projection call with a blank face.
“First off, she’s not my human, she’s her own person. Second, what did you even do? She’s not one to just collapse on her own - although she is a serial overthinker and could definitely talk herself to an early grave...”
Orm, frustrated with his half-brother’s lack of support, rolls his eyes over the call.
“Okay, okay, but seriously. Something must’ve set her off or triggered her to react in a way. You sure you didn’t do anything?”
“All I did was answer the door when she knocked. When she saw me at the entrance, she saw the sweater I was wearing and was overcome with emotion. That’s hardly my fault.”
Orm can see Arthur’s brows furrow in thought at the information, almost as if he’s assessing whether he’s been given the whole story or not.
“Well…where’d you get the sweater?”
“I hardly think that matters-”
“Just answer the question, bro-”
An exasperated grunt leaves Orm as he grips at the sheets beneath him in an attempt to contain himself. A part of him regretted bringing up the matter at all, communication with his half-brother being much too awkward to bear.
“I got it from the wooden wardrobe inside of my chambers! It was much more practical to wear than the flimsy garb-”
“Shit,” Arthur cuts him off, the hologram shifting as the man rubs at his eyes. “The wooden wardrobe with vines on the sides?”
It was Orm’s turn to be taken aback, unsure of how he knew the detail from off the top of his head.
“Yes, that’s the one.”
A muffled sigh comes from Arthur’s end, the image changing again as the king shuffles out of bed quietly to not disturb a sleeping Mera.
“Listen, dude. It’s not my place to speak on her business like this, but all I can say is that the wardrobe - that room - holds a lot of memories that are painful for her. I know you didn’t mean to bring them up, but that wardrobe is off limits. Just try and apologize for now, but don’t pry.”
“But why should I-”
“Orm, seriously! I get it, you don’t like being there - that you’ve spent every day in your room ever since I dropped you off, but she’s been trying. She’s been doing everything she can to get you out of your shell and you’re not giving back anything. There has to be some give here, and that can start with you saying sorry.”
Orm was surprised by the fact that Arthur knew of his daily whereabouts already, undoubtedly asking you for updates on him. However, what surprised him the most was that even though you have seemingly complained to his half brother, you never once suggested kicking him out - never demanded he leave your house and have Atlantis deal with him. You truly were a peculiar little thing.
“...fine. But don’t expect me to continue such niceties with her.”
A belly laugh could be heard from over the call, surely out of amusement for the prince's unwavering coldness.
“Good. Now hang up, you disrupted my beauty sleep.”
With a scoff, Orm presses on the green gem of his wristlet and heads off to the direction of your room.
***
When Orm knocks on your door, he expects a big fuss - bouts of yelling, arguing, or cursing that’ll leave his highly sensitive ears ringing. What he doesn’t expect is everyone of his knocks being met with silence - deafening silence now that the storm has subsided.
“Hello?”
The prince feels weirdly small waiting by your door for your answer, having no clue what he’ll be met with on the other side of him. (It also gives him some insight on how you must feel every time you knock on his door to chat, although he’d never admit to having similarities with you,)
“Are you ignoring me?”
More silence.
“Oh, enough of this childishness.”
With a deep breath in, Orm turns the knob of your door and lets himself into your room. He’s met with colorful tapestries embellishing the walls, big rugs covering the hardwood floor, and twinkling lights surrounding the bed frame. The scene that you set for yourself in your room makes Orm think about his home - the way that the colorful bioluminescence would sparkle throughout his kingdom.
When the initial first impression of your room wears off, he notices there is no one in the bed. No squirming presence under the sheets or anyone sitting on top of the bed to give him a stern talking to. Where did you go?
The blond takes a tentative step inside, stepping over the fuzzy carpets to keep from disturbing their arrangement. When he walks past the bed frame and closer to the window, he sees a lump of a human wearing a large blanket over their shoulders and some type of bulky headgear that covers your ears and emits sound. You were completely enthralled by the scene outside of the window that you hardly notice Orm stepping up next to you.
A sudden hand on your shoulder has you jolting upward with a yelp, your hand instinctively slapping away at the intruder before you turn to look at where they came from.
“Jesus fucking christ!”
Orm gets into his own defensive position as you scramble to press your back against the wall, looking at you as if you were a trembling animal.
“My god, woman!”
“What are you doing in here you scared me half to-”
“I knocked but there was no answer so I-”
“Oh, so you decided to just welcome yourself in?”
Orm purses his lips in frustration, not thrilled at being met with the uproar he had originally expected. You sigh to yourself in disbelief, willing yourself to be quiet since there would be no productive conversation if you two kept yelling at each other.
“Next time just take the hint that I’m busy if I don’t answer, okay? You can’t just barge in here when you want, it’s not cool…”
The Atlantean has some sense to feel a shred of shame when you speak, although your words are hardly convincing when your eyes don’t turn in his direction for even a second. You look so timid standing there in your corner with the blanket consuming you completely - not at all like the spitfire that called him an “asshole” and warned him not to “test her.” (He secretly felt some relief in your loud exchange mere moments ago, because it meant that version of you was still there.)
“I…I apologize for intruding.”
Your head whips up to finally meet the man’s piercing blues, your mouth left slightly agape at an actual apology leaving the arrogant Atlantean’s lips.
“Uh…it’s okay...although, try not to do it again.”
Another moment of awkward silence passes.
“So…why’d you come in here?”
You ask this question as you take a seat back on the floor, resuming your position of staring out of the window only this time without your headphones. You pat the spot next to you on the floor, urging Orm to sit next to you. With a small eye roll, the blond begrudgingly joins you on your multi-colored carpet, opting to rest his arms against his knees as means to shield himself from you.
“I came here to apologize, not just for barging in, but for what happened earlier. I shouldn’t have gone through the wardrobe without your permission even if I needed different clothes. I should’ve asked you instead of rifling through your belongings on my own accord.”
His apology, although rehearsed, seems genuine enough for your shoulders to relax. Your eyes follow the droplets of rain slowly trickling down the glass of your window, racking your brain for the right thing to say.
“It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong, I just…I haven’t revisited the memories that room brings in a long time. You putting on that sweater unearthed them today, and it got me bad. See, I was having a shit day already what with keeping up with the shop, and then an accident causing traffic on the way home, and the wine that I usually like being out of stock-”
Your rambling gets cut off by a soft chuckle coming from the man next to you, a sound that seems so uncharacteristically happy for his usual demeanor. The corners of your mouth perk up in disbelief, the expression making Orm quickly look away from you.
“Huh. So that’s what your laugh sounds like. It’s nice…”
Orm didn’t understand why he reacted in such a way, you weren’t saying anything particularly funny…
…It’s just the way your eyes became so animated as you spoke more, your hands gesturing stronger as you explained further - it was amusing to him. So different from the usual company he keeps, always firmly placed brows and crossed arms from the high council members he consulted. Even the Atlantean women, although much more pleasant company, were more regal in comparison to his surface dweller host. However, what you did have in common with those women was your tenacity. Even with his cold attitude towards you, your kindness was unwavering - a few times a day, without fail, you’d knock on his door with the promise of food and semi-entertaining company. He’s starting to regret only agreeing to the food.
God, he must be going stir crazy.
“What is it about the sweater that made you react in such a way?”
This was when you noticed that Orm was no longer wearing the offending material, choosing to wear the simping cotton T shirt you had given him. It may have been nothing - a simple delusion on your part - but the weight on your chest felt lighter at the idea that the Atlantean took it off to bring you comfort.
“It - uh,” you stuttered, “it belonged to my ex-boyfriend. All of the stuff in that wardrobe did, actually. We painted the vines on the side of it together…”
Orm’s arms flexed tighter around his knees at your words. He didn’t know how to respond, feeling significantly awkward due to adorning your ex lover’s clothing, so he decided to just shut up and let you continue.
“When I was 14 my parents got divorced. My mom wanted so badly to make it work, but my dad didn’t like his life here in Amnesty Bay - a part of me felt like he also didn’t like his life with us in general. I mean, he never had a problem making his grievances known, so…”
Now, this was something the blond was familiar with - uncomfortable family dynamics. The realities of his parents’ marriage were never shielded from him growing up - he often witnessed the brutality of his father whenever his mother, Atlanna, would make her opposing opinions known. He often felt conflicted about which side to take - the one of least resistance that prioritized the well-being of his people or the one that looked out for the well-being of everyone, Atlanteans and surface dwellers alike. Hearing you now, speak your piece on your own upbringing, comforted him in a way he didn’t expect.
“The divorce was messy. Lots of nights spent being pulled in every direction, but with no real place to find peace. After everything settled, my dad ended up moving to New York while my mom remained here. They agreed that for the school year I’d stay with my mom, so she’d have some help at the flower shop, but I’d visit him on major holidays…”
The blanket around you suddenly feels too thin, a chill running over you as you recount your tale. You take a sneaky glance over your shoulder to check if the blond was still listening, and you were surprised (and delighted) to find that his steadfast gaze was at the side of your face.
“...At some point during my years at university, my mom stopped asking me to visit - demanded that I only live with my dad when I was out of school. You can imagine Arthur had his qualms about that…”
You chuckled to yourself at the memory of a young Arthur blowing up your home phone upon hearing the news.
“It would only be for the same visiting time as before, so there wasn’t much fuss on my dad’s end, but my relationship with him had become so different after the divorce that it wasn’t ideal. It…It hurt to hear my mom reject me like that.”
Orm’s mind flashes back to the rain soaked figure of his mother, presenting herself to be siding with his half-brother after his defeat. The sting of her counteraction still lingers in his chest.
“When I had started dating my ex during my third year, I found out the reason my mom was keeping me from home - she got sick…cancer. All of the overworking to pay the bills, lack of support, and the hereditary traits…she got really sick. I guess she didn’t want me to see her in so much pain…”
Orm watches as you turn away to stubbornly wipe at your face, a sniffle coming from your direction. He hadn’t expected you to willingly speak on your background when he asked about the sweater, but a part of him felt guilty for being the cause of your current distress.
“When she died, I moved back here to look after the house and take over the shop…but my ex had moved in with me. Darren.”
More tears fell from your cheeks at the same speed as the rain running down your window.
“Darren offered to help me with the business, help me get on my feet. A part of me knew that he was going to hate the life we were starting together based on talks we had about the future, but I ignored it all when my grief became the only thing I felt for a long time. He always wanted more - more than our little town, more than the flower shop…so when an opportunity presented itself to have a life on his own, he took it. Just like my dad did…”
Orm’s heart drops at the end of your retelling, knowing the feeling of rejection and abandonment all too well. His father would be rolling in his grave if he knew what feelings this little surface dweller was stirring in him. The gap between the Atlanteans and the humans was closing in his mind, and Orm wasn’t sure if he cared to stop it. All he wanted at this moment was to stop you from crying.
“I’m sorry for putting on the sweater…and for being an ungracious guest these past few days. I’ve been a real dick.”
You can’t help but guffaw at his choice of words, using your fist to mask the unsightly sound as a cough.
“That’s not a very princely thing to say…”
Orm’s head tilts back as he snickers, feeling slightly proud of himself for inciting a better mood in you.
Ah, that laugh again, you think as you admire how ethereal the man looks in his relaxed state.
“Perhaps my brother is to blame for my much more…colorful vernacular.”
“Perhaps,” you hum in agreement, “or you’re just not as much of a dick as I previously thought…sorry for coming on so strong that first day.”
Orm’s blue eyes shine at you with something unfamiliar - different to the cold, distant stare you were first met with. You find yourself wishing to always be at the receiving end of his kind eyes.
Orm clears his throat before uttering, “No need to be…I was the one that misjudged you before ever seeing you.”
A silence falls over you two, a comforting one built between new comrades. Your (e/c) gaze meets his as the storm calms outside of your window, signaling the start of a new chapter for you and your royal roommate.
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TYSM FOR READING
my royal roomie (part 2)
Fandom: Aquaman
Pairing: Orm Marius x Reader
part 1:
https://www.tumblr.com/gimme-a-man-after-midnight/693273500438429696/my-royal-roomie-pt-1?source=share
Summary: After a few days of living under your roof, Orm gets to know the little surface dweller he's been stuck with. With time, a stormy night, and a bottle of wine, the prince learns that he has more in common with you than he may think.
Word Count: 4,000+
Warnings: female reader, slow burn, light cursing, mentions of past emotional abuse, divorced parents!reader, dead parent, comic lore inaccuracies, floral inaccuracies??
Author's Note:
hi y'all! here's the full part 2 i've been working on for some time! thanks for the support on the last one and again, so sorry for the late continuation :/ i hope this story is to your liking! happy reading!
After the first one-on-one conversation you had in the living room, Orm didn't come out of the guest bedroom for days. You’d see flashes of platinum blonde out of the corner of your eye, just barely missing him by a few seconds whenever you’d be in the kitchen or outside of his door. You had made many offers through the red painted oak of his room to go grocery shopping together or take him on a tour of the town, but all of your efforts were met with a stern "No thank you." You had lost any hope you had of forming some kind of connection with the Atlantean for a while, cutting your losses by quietly resigning to a parallel existence. What you didn’t expect was the mutual understanding you two would come to on one fateful stormy Friday night, much like the one that brought him to your doorstep.
***
Heavy traffic from the drive home, a full message inbox on your telephone, and the burnt attempt at roast chicken sitting on your oven rack had you nursing a glass bottle of wine by the living room window. Bad days were normal for anybody, but it didn’t make them easier to deal with on your own - the added stress of the stranger living in your space didn’t help either. You had been living a quiet life ever since you moved back to the sleepy town some years ago, taking up very little space and leaving minimal traces of yourself. Whether it was out of caution or cowardice, you weren’t sure yet. Either way, that silence had brought you comfort at a time where your thoughts were too loud, but now with another person occupying your space the quiet was becoming suffocating.
Orm wasn’t by any means a bad roommate - he kept to himself, he didn’t make much noise, and he even managed to wash his dishes whenever he knew you weren’t in the kitchen - but he was a man.The last time you had lived with a man, the end of its course felt similar to how you two were living now, and maybe that’s why it was bothering you so much. Tip-toeing around the Atlantean made you feel uneasy in your own home, a situation you were all too familiar with. Typically at this time in the night you would be cooking up some plan to urge the man out of his guest room, but after the day you had, you didn’t have the heart to try.
Once you took your final gulp of wine, wiping at the sides of your mouth with the back of your hand, you trudged away from the raging display outside of your window. The dishes could be a tomorrow problem, you thought to yourself as you were leaving your kitchen counter behind. You had only made it a few paces out of the living room before your body was overcome with chills, making you draw your blanket tighter around you. The draft through the house was unmistakable, confusing you thoroughly due to you always making sure the doors and windows were shut before bed. As you stepped deeper into the house, you realized the distinct breeze was coming from the direction of the guest bedroom. You had made it a point to allow Orm his space, but your brain was stirring with reasons for what he could possibly be doing in there - most of them unsavory.
With a deep breath and a tight fist holding your blanket, you gently rapped at the door.
“Hey, Orm?”
No response. You knock again.
“I don’t mean to bother, but I’m feeling a bit of a breeze through the house and I can tell it’s coming from here, so I just want to see if everything is alri-”
The door suddenly opened a crack, revealing half of Orm’s face which was already more than you had seen in days.
“If you don’t mean to bother, then don’t.”
The curt response, although expected, has you taken aback. Already seeing the Atlantean retreat from the spot again, you hold the door in its place in effort to keep his attention.
“Look, I know you wanna be alone, but I can’t help wondering why a cold ass breeze is coming from your room, so I just want to see what’s going on. Please, it’s freezing right now.” You do your best to keep control of your tone, not wanting to let on just how much the cold was getting to you - giving the prince another reason to look down on humans wasn’t on your agenda for the night.
Almost as if he commanded the storm, the lightning cracked loudly outside as Orm swung his door open, revealing his full disheveled state to you. You jolted in place, practically leaping a step back in defense at the swift move.
“What’s going on is the stench of your burnt dinner was practically singeing my nostrils. I opened a window in hopes that I could find some relief, because clearly you surface dwellers have no trouble polluting not only the ocean, but your precious breathing air as well! I have little care for how cold your fragile body may get, so I suggest you retire to your room at once and leave me be.”
There was a gap in the yelling match conversation, almost as if the blond was waiting for you to bite back at his harsh words, but the glazed look in your eyes and parted lips made it evident to the Atlantean that your mind was elsewhere. Orm followed your gaze, noticing that it was locked onto the maroon sweater he was adorning, looking at it with equal parts surprise and melancholy. His enhanced hearing picked up on a hitch in your breath and chattering of your teeth, confirming to him that you were clearly shaken.
After the long silence, you mousily spoke.
“I didn’t leave that sweater out for you.”
The arbitrary words silenced Orm, his expression turning to one of confusion as he looked down at the knit fabric on his chest.
“...where did you find it?”
Your voice didn’t change in volume when you made your inquiry, but your tone was somber. The candid emotion made the Atlantean clear his throat awkwardly, unsure of how to handle such vulnerability from his host. You couldn’t even fully appreciate how much messier Orm looked in comparison to when he first arrived - looking like a 90s wet dream with his ungelled hair, clenched jaw, and broad shoulders peeking out of his loose fitting clothes. No, it was the clothes that were holding your attention hostage.
“It was deep in the wooden wardrobe of my room…the garb you set out for me wasn’t suitable for the storm,” Orm says, arms crossed in a defensive manner as he anticipates your response.
A part of you wanted to laugh at his retort, the corner of your lips quirking up for a millisecond before melting back into the numb expression you had prior.
“Are you going to ask me to change? Because I don’t see why I should relent,” the blond goads, pulling a haughty expression that comes all too naturally.
Orm wasn’t sure himself why he wanted to urge a response from you - why he wanted to learn more about this sweater that was clearly jumbling up your thoughts enough to render you so silent. He tried to chalk it up to plain boredom, tried to reason with himself that all his time in self-isolation was making him yearn for more. Still, even with those excuses lined up to justify his actions, he couldn’t explain why seeing the down-turned expression on your lips felt so unnerving. This woman in front of him now was like a shell in comparison to the buoyant, eccentric character he had been previously introduced to - and for some bizarre reason he didn’t like it.
Your thought process, on the other hand, was going in a completely different route. The glaringly red knit in your line of sight brought back too many memories that you had made efforts to bury. The cursed sweater in combination with the Atlantean prince’s snark makes your breath quicken and your mind wander to the whisper of a past life that still takes up space in your home. You couldn’t decipher if your shivering was coming from Orm’s open window or from your body trying to eject all of the feelings evoked from seeing that damn sweater.
“I-I…you…you shouldn’t-” you shakily exhale, your eyes surveying around your surroundings to try and focus on literally anything else. You backstep, hoping that physically running away from the situation will do you good, but your eyes lining up with the red-clad chest and the sound of the booming thunder makes you falter. Your hand clutches at your chest, the white knuckled grip on your blanket alerting your roommate.
The prince's body calls to action, making Orm take an instinctive step forward, reaching out as if to try and steady you.
“What is happening with you? Why are you so high-strung? Do humans go into cardiac arrest so easily?”
You couldn’t hear his stern questioning, your mind flitting to images of firm fists slammed against tables and nights spent alone, buried deep under your covers in the hopes of being swallowed by the sheets. It was like the space in your lungs was being taken up by a vice grip, and your ability to think - to form a simple thought that didn’t make your heart hurt - was completely ripped away from you. Even after four years, the memories of him still have so much power over you in a way that’s paralyzing.
“I-I just - I need - I need to breathe!”
With that final exclamation, you scurried away from the Atlantean, quickly making it back to your room before slamming the door shut behind you. Orm was left stunned outside of his door, his eyes trained in the direction of your room down the hall.
What the hell just happened?
***
Arthur was done - so done.
The newly crowned Atlantean king had so much on his plate already, what with his upcoming engagement underway and him having an entire kingdom to look after. While he did appreciate his little brother feeling comfortable enough to call him at such an ungodly hour, the words the blond uttered made him want to pull his hair out.
“I think I broke her - your human.”
“Bro, what?”
It was too fucking early for this.
“Don’t call me - agh, nevermind - something’s wrong with your human and I’m not sure how to approach the situation. Is this really an environment you believe me to find enrichment from? My host is clearly on the brink of some sort of breakdown and I-”
“Wow, I never took you for someone that was so easily shaken, brother.”
Arthur’s poorly timed quip makes Orm stare back at the projection call with a blank face.
“First off, she’s not my human, she’s her own person. Second, what did you even do? She’s not one to just collapse on her own - although she is a serial overthinker and could definitely talk herself to an early grave...”
Orm, frustrated with his half-brother’s lack of support, rolls his eyes over the call.
“Okay, okay, but seriously. Something must’ve set her off or triggered her to react in a way. You sure you didn’t do anything?”
“All I did was answer the door when she knocked. When she saw me at the entrance, she saw the sweater I was wearing and was overcome with emotion. That’s hardly my fault.”
Orm can see Arthur’s brows furrow in thought at the information, almost as if he’s assessing whether he’s been given the whole story or not.
“Well…where’d you get the sweater?”
“I hardly think that matters-”
“Just answer the question, bro-”
An exasperated grunt leaves Orm as he grips at the sheets beneath him in an attempt to contain himself. A part of him regretted bringing up the matter at all, communication with his half-brother being much too awkward to bear.
“I got it from the wooden wardrobe inside of my chambers! It was much more practical to wear than the flimsy garb-”
“Shit,” Arthur cuts him off, the hologram shifting as the man rubs at his eyes. “The wooden wardrobe with vines on the sides?”
It was Orm’s turn to be taken aback, unsure of how he knew the detail from off the top of his head.
“Yes, that’s the one.”
A muffled sigh comes from Arthur’s end, the image changing again as the king shuffles out of bed quietly to not disturb a sleeping Mera.
“Listen, dude. It’s not my place to speak on her business like this, but all I can say is that the wardrobe - that room - holds a lot of memories that are painful for her. I know you didn’t mean to bring them up, but that wardrobe is off limits. Just try and apologize for now, but don’t pry.”
“But why should I-”
“Orm, seriously! I get it, you don’t like being there - that you’ve spent every day in your room ever since I dropped you off, but she’s been trying. She’s been doing everything she can to get you out of your shell and you’re not giving back anything. There has to be some give here, and that can start with you saying sorry.”
Orm was surprised by the fact that Arthur knew of his daily whereabouts already, undoubtedly asking you for updates on him. However, what surprised him the most was that even though you have seemingly complained to his half brother, you never once suggested kicking him out - never demanded he leave your house and have Atlantis deal with him. You truly were a peculiar little thing.
“...fine. But don’t expect me to continue such niceties with her.”
A belly laugh could be heard from over the call, surely out of amusement for the prince's unwavering coldness.
“Good. Now hang up, you disrupted my beauty sleep.”
With a scoff, Orm presses on the green gem of his wristlet and heads off to the direction of your room.
***
When Orm knocks on your door, he expects a big fuss - bouts of yelling, arguing, or cursing that’ll leave his highly sensitive ears ringing. What he doesn’t expect is everyone of his knocks being met with silence - deafening silence now that the storm has subsided.
“Hello?”
The prince feels weirdly small waiting by your door for your answer, having no clue what he’ll be met with on the other side of him. (It also gives him some insight on how you must feel every time you knock on his door to chat, although he’d never admit to having similarities with you,)
“Are you ignoring me?”
More silence.
“Oh, enough of this childishness.”
With a deep breath in, Orm turns the knob of your door and lets himself into your room. He’s met with colorful tapestries embellishing the walls, big rugs covering the hardwood floor, and twinkling lights surrounding the bed frame. The scene that you set for yourself in your room makes Orm think about his home - the way that the colorful bioluminescence would sparkle throughout his kingdom.
When the initial first impression of your room wears off, he notices there is no one in the bed. No squirming presence under the sheets or anyone sitting on top of the bed to give him a stern talking to. Where did you go?
The blond takes a tentative step inside, stepping over the fuzzy carpets to keep from disturbing their arrangement. When he walks past the bed frame and closer to the window, he sees a lump of a human wearing a large blanket over their shoulders and some type of bulky headgear that covers your ears and emits sound. You were completely enthralled by the scene outside of the window that you hardly notice Orm stepping up next to you.
A sudden hand on your shoulder has you jolting upward with a yelp, your hand instinctively slapping away at the intruder before you turn to look at where they came from.
“Jesus fucking christ!”
Orm gets into his own defensive position as you scramble to press your back against the wall, looking at you as if you were a trembling animal.
“My god, woman!”
“What are you doing in here you scared me half to-”
“I knocked but there was no answer so I-”
“Oh, so you decided to just welcome yourself in?”
Orm purses his lips in frustration, not thrilled at being met with the uproar he had originally expected. You sigh to yourself in disbelief, willing yourself to be quiet since there would be no productive conversation if you two kept yelling at each other.
“Next time just take the hint that I’m busy if I don’t answer, okay? You can’t just barge in here when you want, it’s not cool…”
The Atlantean has some sense to feel a shred of shame when you speak, although your words are hardly convincing when your eyes don’t turn in his direction for even a second. You look so timid standing there in your corner with the blanket consuming you completely - not at all like the spitfire that called him an “asshole” and warned him not to “test her.” (He secretly felt some relief in your loud exchange mere moments ago, because it meant that version of you was still there.)
“I…I apologize for intruding.”
Your head whips up to finally meet the man’s piercing blues, your mouth left slightly agape at an actual apology leaving the arrogant Atlantean’s lips.
“Uh…it’s okay...although, try not to do it again.”
Another moment of awkward silence passes.
“So…why’d you come in here?”
You ask this question as you take a seat back on the floor, resuming your position of staring out of the window only this time without your headphones. You pat the spot next to you on the floor, urging Orm to sit next to you. With a small eye roll, the blond begrudgingly joins you on your multi-colored carpet, opting to rest his arms against his knees as means to shield himself from you.
“I came here to apologize, not just for barging in, but for what happened earlier. I shouldn’t have gone through the wardrobe without your permission even if I needed different clothes. I should’ve asked you instead of rifling through your belongings on my own accord.”
His apology, although rehearsed, seems genuine enough for your shoulders to relax. Your eyes follow the droplets of rain slowly trickling down the glass of your window, racking your brain for the right thing to say.
“It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong, I just…I haven’t revisited the memories that room brings in a long time. You putting on that sweater unearthed them today, and it got me bad. See, I was having a shit day already what with keeping up with the shop, and then an accident causing traffic on the way home, and the wine that I usually like being out of stock-”
Your rambling gets cut off by a soft chuckle coming from the man next to you, a sound that seems so uncharacteristically happy for his usual demeanor. The corners of your mouth perk up in disbelief, the expression making Orm quickly look away from you.
“Huh. So that’s what your laugh sounds like. It’s nice…”
Orm didn’t understand why he reacted in such a way, you weren’t saying anything particularly funny…
…It’s just the way your eyes became so animated as you spoke more, your hands gesturing stronger as you explained further - it was amusing to him. So different from the usual company he keeps, always firmly placed brows and crossed arms from the high council members he consulted. Even the Atlantean women, although much more pleasant company, were more regal in comparison to his surface dweller host. However, what you did have in common with those women was your tenacity. Even with his cold attitude towards you, your kindness was unwavering - a few times a day, without fail, you’d knock on his door with the promise of food and semi-entertaining company. He’s starting to regret only agreeing to the food.
God, he must be going stir crazy.
“What is it about the sweater that made you react in such a way?”
This was when you noticed that Orm was no longer wearing the offending material, choosing to wear the simping cotton T shirt you had given him. It may have been nothing - a simple delusion on your part - but the weight on your chest felt lighter at the idea that the Atlantean took it off to bring you comfort.
“It - uh,” you stuttered, “it belonged to my ex-boyfriend. All of the stuff in that wardrobe did, actually. We painted the vines on the side of it together…”
Orm’s arms flexed tighter around his knees at your words. He didn’t know how to respond, feeling significantly awkward due to adorning your ex lover’s clothing, so he decided to just shut up and let you continue.
“When I was 14 my parents got divorced. My mom wanted so badly to make it work, but my dad didn’t like his life here in Amnesty Bay - a part of me felt like he also didn’t like his life with us in general. I mean, he never had a problem making his grievances known, so…”
Now, this was something the blond was familiar with - uncomfortable family dynamics. The realities of his parents’ marriage were never shielded from him growing up - he often witnessed the brutality of his father whenever his mother, Atlanna, would make her opposing opinions known. He often felt conflicted about which side to take - the one of least resistance that prioritized the well-being of his people or the one that looked out for the well-being of everyone, Atlanteans and surface dwellers alike. Hearing you now, speak your piece on your own upbringing, comforted him in a way he didn’t expect.
“The divorce was messy. Lots of nights spent being pulled in every direction, but with no real place to find peace. After everything settled, my dad ended up moving to New York while my mom remained here. They agreed that for the school year I’d stay with my mom, so she’d have some help at the flower shop, but I’d visit him on major holidays…”
The blanket around you suddenly feels too thin, a chill running over you as you recount your tale. You take a sneaky glance over your shoulder to check if the blond was still listening, and you were surprised (and delighted) to find that his steadfast gaze was at the side of your face.
“...At some point during my years at university, my mom stopped asking me to visit - demanded that I only live with my dad when I was out of school. You can imagine Arthur had his qualms about that…”
You chuckled to yourself at the memory of a young Arthur blowing up your home phone upon hearing the news.
“It would only be for the same visiting time as before, so there wasn’t much fuss on my dad’s end, but my relationship with him had become so different after the divorce that it wasn’t ideal. It…It hurt to hear my mom reject me like that.”
Orm’s mind flashes back to the rain soaked figure of his mother, presenting herself to be siding with his half-brother after his defeat. The sting of her counteraction still lingers in his chest.
“When I had started dating my ex during my third year, I found out the reason my mom was keeping me from home - she got sick…cancer. All of the overworking to pay the bills, lack of support, and the hereditary traits…she got really sick. I guess she didn’t want me to see her in so much pain…”
Orm watches as you turn away to stubbornly wipe at your face, a sniffle coming from your direction. He hadn’t expected you to willingly speak on your background when he asked about the sweater, but a part of him felt guilty for being the cause of your current distress.
“When she died, I moved back here to look after the house and take over the shop…but my ex had moved in with me. Darren.”
More tears fell from your cheeks at the same speed as the rain running down your window.
“Darren offered to help me with the business, help me get on my feet. A part of me knew that he was going to hate the life we were starting together based on talks we had about the future, but I ignored it all when my grief became the only thing I felt for a long time. He always wanted more - more than our little town, more than the flower shop…so when an opportunity presented itself to have a life on his own, he took it. Just like my dad did…”
Orm’s heart drops at the end of your retelling, knowing the feeling of rejection and abandonment all too well. His father would be rolling in his grave if he knew what feelings this little surface dweller was stirring in him. The gap between the Atlanteans and the humans was closing in his mind, and Orm wasn’t sure if he cared to stop it. All he wanted at this moment was to stop you from crying.
“I’m sorry for putting on the sweater…and for being an ungracious guest these past few days. I’ve been a real dick.”
You can’t help but guffaw at his choice of words, using your fist to mask the unsightly sound as a cough.
“That’s not a very princely thing to say…”
Orm’s head tilts back as he snickers, feeling slightly proud of himself for inciting a better mood in you.
Ah, that laugh again, you think as you admire how ethereal the man looks in his relaxed state.
“Perhaps my brother is to blame for my much more…colorful vernacular.”
“Perhaps,” you hum in agreement, “or you’re just not as much of a dick as I previously thought…sorry for coming on so strong that first day.”
Orm’s blue eyes shine at you with something unfamiliar - different to the cold, distant stare you were first met with. You find yourself wishing to always be at the receiving end of his kind eyes.
Orm clears his throat before uttering, “No need to be…I was the one that misjudged you before ever seeing you.”
A silence falls over you two, a comforting one built between new comrades. Your (e/c) gaze meets his as the storm calms outside of your window, signaling the start of a new chapter for you and your royal roommate.
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my royal roomie (part 2)
Fandom: Aquaman
Pairing: Orm Marius x Reader
part 1:
https://www.tumblr.com/gimme-a-man-after-midnight/693273500438429696/my-royal-roomie-pt-1?source=share
Summary: After a few days of living under your roof, Orm gets to know the little surface dweller he's been stuck with. With time, a stormy night, and a bottle of wine, the prince learns that he has more in common with you than he may think.
Word Count: 4,000+
Warnings: female reader, slow burn, light cursing, mentions of past emotional abuse, divorced parents!reader, dead parent, comic lore inaccuracies, floral inaccuracies??
Author's Note:
hi y'all! here's the full part 2 i've been working on for some time! thanks for the support on the last one and again, so sorry for the late continuation :/ i hope this story is to your liking! happy reading!
After the first one-on-one conversation you had in the living room, Orm didn't come out of the guest bedroom for days. You’d see flashes of platinum blonde out of the corner of your eye, just barely missing him by a few seconds whenever you’d be in the kitchen or outside of his door. You had made many offers through the red painted oak of his room to go grocery shopping together or take him on a tour of the town, but all of your efforts were met with a stern "No thank you." You had lost any hope you had of forming some kind of connection with the Atlantean for a while, cutting your losses by quietly resigning to a parallel existence. What you didn’t expect was the mutual understanding you two would come to on one fateful stormy Friday night, much like the one that brought him to your doorstep.
***
Heavy traffic from the drive home, a full message inbox on your telephone, and the burnt attempt at roast chicken sitting on your oven rack had you nursing a glass bottle of wine by the living room window. Bad days were normal for anybody, but it didn’t make them easier to deal with on your own - the added stress of the stranger living in your space didn’t help either. You had been living a quiet life ever since you moved back to the sleepy town some years ago, taking up very little space and leaving minimal traces of yourself. Whether it was out of caution or cowardice, you weren’t sure yet. Either way, that silence had brought you comfort at a time where your thoughts were too loud, but now with another person occupying your space the quiet was becoming suffocating.
Orm wasn’t by any means a bad roommate - he kept to himself, he didn’t make much noise, and he even managed to wash his dishes whenever he knew you weren’t in the kitchen - but he was a man.The last time you had lived with a man, the end of its course felt similar to how you two were living now, and maybe that’s why it was bothering you so much. Tip-toeing around the Atlantean made you feel uneasy in your own home, a situation you were all too familiar with. Typically at this time in the night you would be cooking up some plan to urge the man out of his guest room, but after the day you had, you didn’t have the heart to try.
Once you took your final gulp of wine, wiping at the sides of your mouth with the back of your hand, you trudged away from the raging display outside of your window. The dishes could be a tomorrow problem, you thought to yourself as you were leaving your kitchen counter behind. You had only made it a few paces out of the living room before your body was overcome with chills, making you draw your blanket tighter around you. The draft through the house was unmistakable, confusing you thoroughly due to you always making sure the doors and windows were shut before bed. As you stepped deeper into the house, you realized the distinct breeze was coming from the direction of the guest bedroom. You had made it a point to allow Orm his space, but your brain was stirring with reasons for what he could possibly be doing in there - most of them unsavory.
With a deep breath and a tight fist holding your blanket, you gently rapped at the door.
“Hey, Orm?”
No response. You knock again.
“I don’t mean to bother, but I’m feeling a bit of a breeze through the house and I can tell it’s coming from here, so I just want to see if everything is alri-”
The door suddenly opened a crack, revealing half of Orm’s face which was already more than you had seen in days.
“If you don’t mean to bother, then don’t.”
The curt response, although expected, has you taken aback. Already seeing the Atlantean retreat from the spot again, you hold the door in its place in effort to keep his attention.
“Look, I know you wanna be alone, but I can’t help wondering why a cold ass breeze is coming from your room, so I just want to see what’s going on. Please, it’s freezing right now.” You do your best to keep control of your tone, not wanting to let on just how much the cold was getting to you - giving the prince another reason to look down on humans wasn’t on your agenda for the night.
Almost as if he commanded the storm, the lightning cracked loudly outside as Orm swung his door open, revealing his full disheveled state to you. You jolted in place, practically leaping a step back in defense at the swift move.
“What’s going on is the stench of your burnt dinner was practically singeing my nostrils. I opened a window in hopes that I could find some relief, because clearly you surface dwellers have no trouble polluting not only the ocean, but your precious breathing air as well! I have little care for how cold your fragile body may get, so I suggest you retire to your room at once and leave me be.”
There was a gap in the yelling match conversation, almost as if the blond was waiting for you to bite back at his harsh words, but the glazed look in your eyes and parted lips made it evident to the Atlantean that your mind was elsewhere. Orm followed your gaze, noticing that it was locked onto the maroon sweater he was adorning, looking at it with equal parts surprise and melancholy. His enhanced hearing picked up on a hitch in your breath and chattering of your teeth, confirming to him that you were clearly shaken.
After the long silence, you mousily spoke.
“I didn’t leave that sweater out for you.”
The arbitrary words silenced Orm, his expression turning to one of confusion as he looked down at the knit fabric on his chest.
“...where did you find it?”
Your voice didn’t change in volume when you made your inquiry, but your tone was somber. The candid emotion made the Atlantean clear his throat awkwardly, unsure of how to handle such vulnerability from his host. You couldn’t even fully appreciate how much messier Orm looked in comparison to when he first arrived - looking like a 90s wet dream with his ungelled hair, clenched jaw, and broad shoulders peeking out of his loose fitting clothes. No, it was the clothes that were holding your attention hostage.
“It was deep in the wooden wardrobe of my room…the garb you set out for me wasn’t suitable for the storm,” Orm says, arms crossed in a defensive manner as he anticipates your response.
A part of you wanted to laugh at his retort, the corner of your lips quirking up for a millisecond before melting back into the numb expression you had prior.
“Are you going to ask me to change? Because I don’t see why I should relent,” the blond goads, pulling a haughty expression that comes all too naturally.
Orm wasn’t sure himself why he wanted to urge a response from you - why he wanted to learn more about this sweater that was clearly jumbling up your thoughts enough to render you so silent. He tried to chalk it up to plain boredom, tried to reason with himself that all his time in self-isolation was making him yearn for more. Still, even with those excuses lined up to justify his actions, he couldn’t explain why seeing the down-turned expression on your lips felt so unnerving. This woman in front of him now was like a shell in comparison to the buoyant, eccentric character he had been previously introduced to - and for some bizarre reason he didn’t like it.
Your thought process, on the other hand, was going in a completely different route. The glaringly red knit in your line of sight brought back too many memories that you had made efforts to bury. The cursed sweater in combination with the Atlantean prince’s snark makes your breath quicken and your mind wander to the whisper of a past life that still takes up space in your home. You couldn’t decipher if your shivering was coming from Orm’s open window or from your body trying to eject all of the feelings evoked from seeing that damn sweater.
“I-I…you…you shouldn’t-” you shakily exhale, your eyes surveying around your surroundings to try and focus on literally anything else. You backstep, hoping that physically running away from the situation will do you good, but your eyes lining up with the red-clad chest and the sound of the booming thunder makes you falter. Your hand clutches at your chest, the white knuckled grip on your blanket alerting your roommate.
The prince's body calls to action, making Orm take an instinctive step forward, reaching out as if to try and steady you.
“What is happening with you? Why are you so high-strung? Do humans go into cardiac arrest so easily?”
You couldn’t hear his stern questioning, your mind flitting to images of firm fists slammed against tables and nights spent alone, buried deep under your covers in the hopes of being swallowed by the sheets. It was like the space in your lungs was being taken up by a vice grip, and your ability to think - to form a simple thought that didn’t make your heart hurt - was completely ripped away from you. Even after four years, the memories of him still have so much power over you in a way that’s paralyzing.
“I-I just - I need - I need to breathe!”
With that final exclamation, you scurried away from the Atlantean, quickly making it back to your room before slamming the door shut behind you. Orm was left stunned outside of his door, his eyes trained in the direction of your room down the hall.
What the hell just happened?
***
Arthur was done - so done.
The newly crowned Atlantean king had so much on his plate already, what with his upcoming engagement underway and him having an entire kingdom to look after. While he did appreciate his little brother feeling comfortable enough to call him at such an ungodly hour, the words the blond uttered made him want to pull his hair out.
“I think I broke her - your human.”
“Bro, what?”
It was too fucking early for this.
“Don’t call me - agh, nevermind - something’s wrong with your human and I’m not sure how to approach the situation. Is this really an environment you believe me to find enrichment from? My host is clearly on the brink of some sort of breakdown and I-”
“Wow, I never took you for someone that was so easily shaken, brother.”
Arthur’s poorly timed quip makes Orm stare back at the projection call with a blank face.
“First off, she’s not my human, she’s her own person. Second, what did you even do? She’s not one to just collapse on her own - although she is a serial overthinker and could definitely talk herself to an early grave...”
Orm, frustrated with his half-brother’s lack of support, rolls his eyes over the call.
“Okay, okay, but seriously. Something must’ve set her off or triggered her to react in a way. You sure you didn’t do anything?”
“All I did was answer the door when she knocked. When she saw me at the entrance, she saw the sweater I was wearing and was overcome with emotion. That’s hardly my fault.”
Orm can see Arthur’s brows furrow in thought at the information, almost as if he’s assessing whether he’s been given the whole story or not.
“Well…where’d you get the sweater?”
“I hardly think that matters-”
“Just answer the question, bro-”
An exasperated grunt leaves Orm as he grips at the sheets beneath him in an attempt to contain himself. A part of him regretted bringing up the matter at all, communication with his half-brother being much too awkward to bear.
“I got it from the wooden wardrobe inside of my chambers! It was much more practical to wear than the flimsy garb-”
“Shit,” Arthur cuts him off, the hologram shifting as the man rubs at his eyes. “The wooden wardrobe with vines on the sides?”
It was Orm’s turn to be taken aback, unsure of how he knew the detail from off the top of his head.
“Yes, that’s the one.”
A muffled sigh comes from Arthur’s end, the image changing again as the king shuffles out of bed quietly to not disturb a sleeping Mera.
“Listen, dude. It’s not my place to speak on her business like this, but all I can say is that the wardrobe - that room - holds a lot of memories that are painful for her. I know you didn’t mean to bring them up, but that wardrobe is off limits. Just try and apologize for now, but don’t pry.”
“But why should I-”
“Orm, seriously! I get it, you don’t like being there - that you’ve spent every day in your room ever since I dropped you off, but she’s been trying. She’s been doing everything she can to get you out of your shell and you’re not giving back anything. There has to be some give here, and that can start with you saying sorry.”
Orm was surprised by the fact that Arthur knew of his daily whereabouts already, undoubtedly asking you for updates on him. However, what surprised him the most was that even though you have seemingly complained to his half brother, you never once suggested kicking him out - never demanded he leave your house and have Atlantis deal with him. You truly were a peculiar little thing.
“...fine. But don’t expect me to continue such niceties with her.”
A belly laugh could be heard from over the call, surely out of amusement for the prince's unwavering coldness.
“Good. Now hang up, you disrupted my beauty sleep.”
With a scoff, Orm presses on the green gem of his wristlet and heads off to the direction of your room.
***
When Orm knocks on your door, he expects a big fuss - bouts of yelling, arguing, or cursing that’ll leave his highly sensitive ears ringing. What he doesn’t expect is everyone of his knocks being met with silence - deafening silence now that the storm has subsided.
“Hello?”
The prince feels weirdly small waiting by your door for your answer, having no clue what he’ll be met with on the other side of him. (It also gives him some insight on how you must feel every time you knock on his door to chat, although he’d never admit to having similarities with you,)
“Are you ignoring me?”
More silence.
“Oh, enough of this childishness.”
With a deep breath in, Orm turns the knob of your door and lets himself into your room. He’s met with colorful tapestries embellishing the walls, big rugs covering the hardwood floor, and twinkling lights surrounding the bed frame. The scene that you set for yourself in your room makes Orm think about his home - the way that the colorful bioluminescence would sparkle throughout his kingdom.
When the initial first impression of your room wears off, he notices there is no one in the bed. No squirming presence under the sheets or anyone sitting on top of the bed to give him a stern talking to. Where did you go?
The blond takes a tentative step inside, stepping over the fuzzy carpets to keep from disturbing their arrangement. When he walks past the bed frame and closer to the window, he sees a lump of a human wearing a large blanket over their shoulders and some type of bulky headgear that covers your ears and emits sound. You were completely enthralled by the scene outside of the window that you hardly notice Orm stepping up next to you.
A sudden hand on your shoulder has you jolting upward with a yelp, your hand instinctively slapping away at the intruder before you turn to look at where they came from.
“Jesus fucking christ!”
Orm gets into his own defensive position as you scramble to press your back against the wall, looking at you as if you were a trembling animal.
“My god, woman!”
“What are you doing in here you scared me half to-”
“I knocked but there was no answer so I-”
“Oh, so you decided to just welcome yourself in?”
Orm purses his lips in frustration, not thrilled at being met with the uproar he had originally expected. You sigh to yourself in disbelief, willing yourself to be quiet since there would be no productive conversation if you two kept yelling at each other.
“Next time just take the hint that I’m busy if I don’t answer, okay? You can’t just barge in here when you want, it’s not cool…”
The Atlantean has some sense to feel a shred of shame when you speak, although your words are hardly convincing when your eyes don’t turn in his direction for even a second. You look so timid standing there in your corner with the blanket consuming you completely - not at all like the spitfire that called him an “asshole” and warned him not to “test her.” (He secretly felt some relief in your loud exchange mere moments ago, because it meant that version of you was still there.)
“I…I apologize for intruding.”
Your head whips up to finally meet the man’s piercing blues, your mouth left slightly agape at an actual apology leaving the arrogant Atlantean’s lips.
“Uh…it’s okay...although, try not to do it again.”
Another moment of awkward silence passes.
“So…why’d you come in here?”
You ask this question as you take a seat back on the floor, resuming your position of staring out of the window only this time without your headphones. You pat the spot next to you on the floor, urging Orm to sit next to you. With a small eye roll, the blond begrudgingly joins you on your multi-colored carpet, opting to rest his arms against his knees as means to shield himself from you.
“I came here to apologize, not just for barging in, but for what happened earlier. I shouldn’t have gone through the wardrobe without your permission even if I needed different clothes. I should’ve asked you instead of rifling through your belongings on my own accord.”
His apology, although rehearsed, seems genuine enough for your shoulders to relax. Your eyes follow the droplets of rain slowly trickling down the glass of your window, racking your brain for the right thing to say.
“It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong, I just…I haven’t revisited the memories that room brings in a long time. You putting on that sweater unearthed them today, and it got me bad. See, I was having a shit day already what with keeping up with the shop, and then an accident causing traffic on the way home, and the wine that I usually like being out of stock-”
Your rambling gets cut off by a soft chuckle coming from the man next to you, a sound that seems so uncharacteristically happy for his usual demeanor. The corners of your mouth perk up in disbelief, the expression making Orm quickly look away from you.
“Huh. So that’s what your laugh sounds like. It’s nice…”
Orm didn’t understand why he reacted in such a way, you weren’t saying anything particularly funny…
…It’s just the way your eyes became so animated as you spoke more, your hands gesturing stronger as you explained further - it was amusing to him. So different from the usual company he keeps, always firmly placed brows and crossed arms from the high council members he consulted. Even the Atlantean women, although much more pleasant company, were more regal in comparison to his surface dweller host. However, what you did have in common with those women was your tenacity. Even with his cold attitude towards you, your kindness was unwavering - a few times a day, without fail, you’d knock on his door with the promise of food and semi-entertaining company. He’s starting to regret only agreeing to the food.
God, he must be going stir crazy.
“What is it about the sweater that made you react in such a way?”
This was when you noticed that Orm was no longer wearing the offending material, choosing to wear the simping cotton T shirt you had given him. It may have been nothing - a simple delusion on your part - but the weight on your chest felt lighter at the idea that the Atlantean took it off to bring you comfort.
“It - uh,” you stuttered, “it belonged to my ex-boyfriend. All of the stuff in that wardrobe did, actually. We painted the vines on the side of it together…”
Orm’s arms flexed tighter around his knees at your words. He didn’t know how to respond, feeling significantly awkward due to adorning your ex lover’s clothing, so he decided to just shut up and let you continue.
“When I was 14 my parents got divorced. My mom wanted so badly to make it work, but my dad didn’t like his life here in Amnesty Bay - a part of me felt like he also didn’t like his life with us in general. I mean, he never had a problem making his grievances known, so…”
Now, this was something the blond was familiar with - uncomfortable family dynamics. The realities of his parents’ marriage were never shielded from him growing up - he often witnessed the brutality of his father whenever his mother, Atlanna, would make her opposing opinions known. He often felt conflicted about which side to take - the one of least resistance that prioritized the well-being of his people or the one that looked out for the well-being of everyone, Atlanteans and surface dwellers alike. Hearing you now, speak your piece on your own upbringing, comforted him in a way he didn’t expect.
“The divorce was messy. Lots of nights spent being pulled in every direction, but with no real place to find peace. After everything settled, my dad ended up moving to New York while my mom remained here. They agreed that for the school year I’d stay with my mom, so she’d have some help at the flower shop, but I’d visit him on major holidays…”
The blanket around you suddenly feels too thin, a chill running over you as you recount your tale. You take a sneaky glance over your shoulder to check if the blond was still listening, and you were surprised (and delighted) to find that his steadfast gaze was at the side of your face.
“...At some point during my years at university, my mom stopped asking me to visit - demanded that I only live with my dad when I was out of school. You can imagine Arthur had his qualms about that…”
You chuckled to yourself at the memory of a young Arthur blowing up your home phone upon hearing the news.
“It would only be for the same visiting time as before, so there wasn’t much fuss on my dad’s end, but my relationship with him had become so different after the divorce that it wasn’t ideal. It…It hurt to hear my mom reject me like that.”
Orm’s mind flashes back to the rain soaked figure of his mother, presenting herself to be siding with his half-brother after his defeat. The sting of her counteraction still lingers in his chest.
“When I had started dating my ex during my third year, I found out the reason my mom was keeping me from home - she got sick…cancer. All of the overworking to pay the bills, lack of support, and the hereditary traits…she got really sick. I guess she didn’t want me to see her in so much pain…”
Orm watches as you turn away to stubbornly wipe at your face, a sniffle coming from your direction. He hadn’t expected you to willingly speak on your background when he asked about the sweater, but a part of him felt guilty for being the cause of your current distress.
“When she died, I moved back here to look after the house and take over the shop…but my ex had moved in with me. Darren.”
More tears fell from your cheeks at the same speed as the rain running down your window.
“Darren offered to help me with the business, help me get on my feet. A part of me knew that he was going to hate the life we were starting together based on talks we had about the future, but I ignored it all when my grief became the only thing I felt for a long time. He always wanted more - more than our little town, more than the flower shop…so when an opportunity presented itself to have a life on his own, he took it. Just like my dad did…”
Orm’s heart drops at the end of your retelling, knowing the feeling of rejection and abandonment all too well. His father would be rolling in his grave if he knew what feelings this little surface dweller was stirring in him. The gap between the Atlanteans and the humans was closing in his mind, and Orm wasn’t sure if he cared to stop it. All he wanted at this moment was to stop you from crying.
“I’m sorry for putting on the sweater…and for being an ungracious guest these past few days. I’ve been a real dick.”
You can’t help but guffaw at his choice of words, using your fist to mask the unsightly sound as a cough.
“That’s not a very princely thing to say…”
Orm’s head tilts back as he snickers, feeling slightly proud of himself for inciting a better mood in you.
Ah, that laugh again, you think as you admire how ethereal the man looks in his relaxed state.
“Perhaps my brother is to blame for my much more…colorful vernacular.”
“Perhaps,” you hum in agreement, “or you’re just not as much of a dick as I previously thought…sorry for coming on so strong that first day.”
Orm’s blue eyes shine at you with something unfamiliar - different to the cold, distant stare you were first met with. You find yourself wishing to always be at the receiving end of his kind eyes.
Orm clears his throat before uttering, “No need to be…I was the one that misjudged you before ever seeing you.”
A silence falls over you two, a comforting one built between new comrades. Your (e/c) gaze meets his as the storm calms outside of your window, signaling the start of a new chapter for you and your royal roommate.
#orm marius x reader#orm marius x you#orm marius#orm x reader#aquaman imagine#orm marius imagine#orm marius fanfiction#aquaman fanfiction#arthur curry#dceu
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my royal roomie (part 2) *sneak peek*
Fandom: Aquaman
Pairing: Orm Marius x Reader
part 1:
https://www.tumblr.com/gimme-a-man-after-midnight/693273500438429696/my-royal-roomie-pt-1?source=share
Summary: After a few days of living under your roof, Orm gets to know the little surface dweller he's been stuck with. With time, a stormy night, and a bottle of wine, the prince learns that he has more in common with you than he may think.
Warnings: female reader, slow burn, cursing, mentions of past emotional abuse, divorced parents!reader, dead parent, comic lore inaccuracies
Author's Note:
Hi y'all! I know I'm just about 1.5 years late in making this part 2...but I really do appreciate the support being shown for this fic! I want to make note now that my writing style has changed a bit in the time I've been away, but I hope the story is still to your liking! I'm already drafting up ideas for part 3 and hopefully more parts in the future once I watch the second movie. Look forward to more work in the future, but for now here's a first look at the next chapter!
Arthur was done - so done.
The newly crowned Atlantean king had so much on his plate already, what with his upcoming engagement underway and him having an entire kingdom to look after. While he did appreciate his little brother feeling comfortable enough to call him at such an ungodly hour, the words the blond uttered made him want to pull his hair out.
“I think I broke her - your human.”
“Bro, what?”
It was too fucking early for this.
“Don’t call me - agh, nevermind - something’s wrong with your human and I’m not sure how to approach the situation. Is this really an environment you believe me to find enrichment from? My host is clearly on the brink of some sort of breakdown and I-”
“Wow, I never took you for someone that was so easily shaken, brother.”
Arthur’s poorly timed quip makes Orm stare back at the projection call with a blank face.
“First off, she’s not my human, she’s her own person. Second, what did you even do? She’s not one to just collapse on her own - although she is a serial overthinker and could definitely talk herself to an early grave...”
Orm, frustrated with his half-brother’s lack of support, rolls his eyes over the call.
“Okay, okay, but seriously. Something must’ve set her off or triggered her to react in a way. You sure you didn’t do anything?”
“All I did was answer the door when she knocked. When she saw me at the entrance, she saw the sweater I was wearing and was overcome with emotion. That’s hardly my fault.”
Orm can see Arthur’s brows furrow in thought at the information, almost as if he’s assessing whether he’s been given the whole story or not.
“Well…where’d you get the sweater?”
“I hardly think that matters-”
“Just answer the question, bro-”
An exasperated grunt leaves Orm as he grips at the sheets beneath him in an attempt to contain himself. A part of him regretted bringing up the matter at all, communication with his half-brother being much too awkward to bear.
“I got it from the wooden wardrobe inside of my chambers! It was much more practical to wear than the flimsy garb-”
“Shit,” Arthur cuts him off, the hologram shifting as the man rubs at his eyes. “The wooden wardrobe with vines on the sides?”
It was Orm’s turn to be taken aback, unsure of how he knew the detail from off the top of his head.
“Yes, that’s the one.”
A muffled sigh comes from Arthur’s end, the image changing again as the king shuffles out of bed quietly to not disturb a sleeping Mera.
“Listen, dude. It’s not my place to speak on her business like this, but all I can say is that the wardrobe - that room - holds a lot of memories that are painful for her. I know you didn’t mean to bring them up, but that wardrobe is off limits. Just try and apologize for now, but don’t pry.”
“But why should I-”
“Orm, seriously! I get it, you don’t like being there - that you’ve spent every day in your room ever since I dropped you off, but she’s been trying. She’s been doing everything she can to get you out of your shell and you’re not giving back anything. There has to be some give here, and that can start with you saying sorry.”
Orm was surprised by the fact that Arthur knew of his daily whereabouts already, undoubtedly asking you for updates in him. However, what surprised him the most was that even though you have seemingly complained to his half brother, you never once suggested kicking him out - never demanded he leave your house and have Atlantis deal with him. You truly were a peculiar little thing.
“...fine. But don’t expect me to continue such niceties with her.”
A belly laugh could be heard from the over the call, surely out of amusement for the prince's unwavering coldness.
“Good. Now hang up, you disrupted my beauty sleep.”
With a scoff, Orm presses on the green gem of his wristlet and heads off to the direction of your bedroom.
#orm marius x reader#aquaman#aquaman imagine#orm marius x you#orm marius#arthur curry#arthur curry x reader#dceu
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for those of you that followed me after the orm "my royal roomie" fanfic, i'm sorry about how long i spent without updating it! i lost inspiration half-way through writing the draft of the second part, and i got so busy with school and work, but a part 2 and 3 is in the works! i haven't seen the second movie yet, but i'll be updating it soon! keep a look out for that ;)
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me @ y/n when they do something i’d never do:

like babe this isn’t us ?? get it together
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