#orm marius x clark kent

[mathiwrites]

[keenzinemugstudent]

Superman x Witch black reader ft Superboy! Our Future part 2!

The league finds out about what's going on and you get to know Conner a bit

//In the batcave//

"What the hell do you mean Superman and Y/H/N had a kid?!"

Aquaman yelled starring at at Bruce, Diana looks shocked and Victor just looked confused not that we could blame them Connor just stands there awkwardly.

"It's just as I said Arthur... Superman and Y/H/n have a son."

"From the future?!"

"Yes." Bruce says his tone annoyed Arthur let's out a laugh still not believing it.

"I mean I can see the resemblance but it's still hard too believe." Victor say in disbelief looking between Clark and Connor.

"It is quite shocking. Barry do you have something to do with this?" Diana turned to look at Barry who just shook his head.

"Nope! nope don't look at me I am just as surprised as everyone else in this room right now!" Barry says hands in the air. Superman just let out a tired sigh looking over at Conner who was trying not to look his way, this was obviously too much for the poor boy.

"How did Y/n took it?" Diana asks worried about her friends health.

"She's in the guest room she kind of fainted."

"She fainted?! Haha wish I could have been there to see that." Arthur kept making fun of the situation making Clark glare at him which got him to stop but still had a smirk on his face, Diana spoke again.

"Well what do you suggest Batman?"

"Until we find out what was the cause of Superboy being brought here until that he needs lay low out of sight."

"Which I'm guessing Superman and and Y/h/n will have something to do with that?"

"Of course."

"I think I better go check on her."

Conner speeds out the room going to check on you.

"Soooo does that mean Y/n is no longer up for grabs?"

Victor gives Arthur a irritated look.

"We just met the future child of two the strongest beings on earth and THAT'S what you're worried about right now?" Arthur just shrugged his shoulders.

"Hey! I was just asking my brothers been asking about her for months! Man this is going break his heart and I can't wait to see it!" Victor just shooks his head.

"You got issues man."

When you woke up you saw that you were in the guest room the door opens and walks in Alfred holding a cup of tea.

"I thought it would be best to bring you some tea miss Y/n to help calm your nerves."

You gave him a grateful smile taking the tea you loved Alfred he always knew that tea calmed your nerves which tasted great by the way.

"Thank you Alfred I definitely needed it."

"Of course ma'am, and if it is alright with you there is a great waiting outside the door."

You looked at him confused than you saw Conner peaking around the corner giving you a small wave.

"Hi..."

"Hey."

"I'll leave you too alone call me if you need anything miss Y/n." Alfred gives you a bow before walking out the door leaving you and Superboy alone together. And man was it awkward! Neither of you spoke he just stood there looking anywhere but your face and you just stared at him still trying to understand what to say to him? I mean what the hell am I supposed to say?! Thankfully he spoke with a nervous chuckle.

"I'm sorry this is just so weird."

"Tell me about it I mean it's not every day you meet a kid that claims to be your son. And from the future no less."

Kon-el walks over to sit in the chair next to you he really was a cute kid now that you got a better look at him he had your eyes, mouth and nose but everything else was definitely Clark.

"I know this is a lot to process right now and trust me I would not be here if it meant that I could be possibly messing up the timelines by revealing who i am but..."

He looks at the bed with a frowns.

"I had no choice."

"Well your here now we can't change that Kon-el."

You gently put your hand on top of his causing him to look up at you face to see a smile.

"So obviously I can't can't keep calling you by your Kryptonian name you mind telling me what your earth name is sweetie?" He looka up at you with a smile.

"Conner, Conner Kent."

"Conner Kent? Well than it's nice to meet you Conner."

You hold out your hand for him to shake but he just smiles ignoring your stretched out hand giving you a hug again but this time you were well prepared and hugged him back. It was odd but you already felt like you had to protect him even your magic knew that this child needs you it was hard to explain but it was a nice feeling.

"Ah your awake."

We turn to see Clark standing in the door way I feel my face get warm and look at the bed sheets Conner glances at me and has a small grin in his face.

"How are you feeling?"

"huh? Oh me? I'm good never been better!" Why in the hell were you stuttering?! He gives you a smile making your face get even more warm ugh this is ridiculous!

"Well that's good now that your up we can discuss what to do with Connor."

Great this already feels like a custody battle.

"Okay so what were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that maybe he stays with me? I know you have a roommate who isn't really found of men in the apartment." That made Conner turn his head at you confused.

"Oh no you don't have to worry about that I kicked them out they were bringing too much negative energy so I now have a spare room."

"So you'll be fine with me living with you?"

"Duh! Beside I could use the company especially with my future son!" You grin messing with his dark hair he gets flustered as Superman gives a low chuckle behind his hand, Conner moves away from you fixing his hair a pout on his face he was to cute.

"Alright alright can we go now? I really don't want to have Batman pointing a gun at me again."

That made me stare at him in horror.

"He held you at gun point!?!"

"Don't worry Conner he did something similar too me."

This time you looked at them both with horror already feeling your magic flare up in anger.

Bruce wants to keep testing your fucking patiences! I better not see his face for a while or it's sight!!

(In the batcave Batman let's out a sneeze Alfred gives him a box of tissues)

I finally was able to finish part 2 thank god I had to rewrite this multiple times cause I was trying to make it just right so I hope I did okay now to part 3 I don't know if I want it be with Superman/Clark to talk to Lois and try to figure out where they stand in their relationship now that Conner is a thing or have him talk to Martha and try to understand his feelings about you now that he knows he doesn't have a future with Lois hehe I love drama

Here's part 1

[imagines-to-quench-thirst]

Speak in Flowers

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

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

All my knowledge about the flowers I found on this link

Enjoy this little fluff piece!

Victor Creed (SABERTOOTH)

PINK CAMELLIA: Longing for you

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

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

"Their meanings are Longing For You."

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

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

Loki

HONEYSUCKLE: Bonds of Love

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

"Morning, Y/n. Back again."

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

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

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

Bonds of love.

"Oh, how I miss you, Loki."

Thor

MARJORAM: Joy and happiness

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

"You good, Loki?"

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

"When are you seeing them?"

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

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

"MY DARLING!!" Thor shouted

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

"Excuse me! Here you go!"

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

"Are these used for... cooking?"

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

"Thanks, I guess..."

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

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

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

Bucky Barnes (Winter Solider)

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

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

"Looking for a unique flower?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Suprise!"

Steve Rogers (Captian America)

HOLLY: Defense, Domestic Happiness

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bruce Wayne (Batman)

IRIS: Faith, Trust, Wisdom, Hope, Valor

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

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

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

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

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

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

IRIS: Faith, Trust, Wisdom, Hope, Valor

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

"These are for you."

Clark Kent (Superman)

YARROW: Everlasting love

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

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

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

"For my everlasting love."

Arthur Curry (Aquaman)

ASTER: Symbol of Love and Daintiness

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Orm Marius

CALLA LILY : Beauty

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

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

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

"The flowers have their own language?"

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

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

"These are for you, my beauty."

Joker

YELLOW JASMINE: Grace and Elegance

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Duncan Vizla (Polar)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Whale Song - Orm Marius X Female Reader

Title: Whale Song

Orm Marius X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Clark (Mentioned), Bruce (Mentioned), Arthur, Damian (Mentioned), Orm's father (Mentioned), and the Justice League (Mentioned)

Requested by: Anon!

WC: 5,189

Warnings: Somewhat enemies to lovers, mild cursing, movie canon violence briefly mentioned, post-Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom, during post-credits, italics used, book reference, banter, flirting, teasing, mentioned prejudice, slight angst, and fluff

You were upset. No, more than upset, pissed off. Annoyed. Furious. Normally you would get calls from Clark or Bruce, but never Arthur Curry - Aquaman. As his hologram figure shot out of your watch, you immediately frowned. Only having recently joined the Justice League, Arthur was known for causing a bit of trouble. You were both very different from each other. You were one for talking to people, and he liked using his fists.

But when Arthur called you, it normally meant that he wanted something, needed you to do something for him while he was stuck down in the ocean doing his Kingly duties. All high and mighty. Well, you were fed up. The last time he asked you for something, you were pulled into a small battle, and you owed him twenty bucks - you weren't one to bet, but against Arthur, it was hard to not take part. You loved to see his face when he lost. And he lost most of the time.

But you knew that you were a pretty sensible person to go to when anyone needed anything. You were bright and always mindful. You were brilliant, having gone to Harvard before moving to the big city - Metropolis.

It wasn't long after you found yourself in the company of the world's strongest heroes. With your intellect and specific set of skills, both Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne thought you could be an invaluable member of the Justice League. Though, instead of fighting on the front lines, you would offer advice and wisdom when needed - along with helping the team with the tech that you created. 

So, it didn't come as a surprise when Arthur called you on your 'Super Watch' as you called it, when you made it for you and the team. He came to you when he needed advice, which was a lot. If it had been anyone else, you would've been more than willing to help. But it was Arthur. However, you were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"I need to cash in that favor." He said. There was no greeting - no pleasantries. Just straight to business. Like he usually did when he needed something. 

You rolled your eyes. If only you hadn't asked him to take you to see a Humpback Whale - him with his Kingly Atlantis powers. It had always been a dream of yours, and why wouldn't you take a chance to experience something new and amazing like that? During the time, in awe of the giant Humpback before you, asking for that favor was totally worth it. 

However, at the moment, you didn't want to know what he wanted. There were so many things that he could possibly want. But, it was the weekend. Saturday. Not the day for you to play babysitter for some superpowered superhero. You already had to watch over Damian Wayne. You loved the kid, but you didn’t really think babysitting was your thing. "What do you want?" You asked, not bothering to mask the impatience in your voice. "I have a book I need to get to..."

"I need you to watch over somebody for me." He answered, seemingly aware of your impatience as he continued with a small grin on his face, "I believe that you heard that my brother has joined the surface world. He'll be needing some help adjusting and I think you-"

"Oh, no, no, no," You interrupted, shaking your head as you glared daggers at the hologram before you, "I am not babysitting your murderous brother." You ran a hand through your hair, "Do you know how much damage control I had to do when he tried to kill us surface-dwellers? It took me weeks to fix all that he did - with little help by the way!" You pointed an accusatory finger at him, "I already have a tough time babysitting the supers, I am not babysitting him too."

He sighed heavily. "Look, I know that this is a bit of a big favor-"

You scoffed, "A bit?"

"And I understand that being around new people is not exactly fun for you-"

You couldn't help but roll your eyes again, "Not just that, Art, I am not like you and the other supers. If your brother tries anything, I won't be able to stop him."

"He won't try anything," Arthur grinned, "He's changed, dude. He's not the same as he was over a year ago." 

You nodded, taking another glance at the sky outside your window. "That's good if what you say is true." You agreed hesitantly. "If I am going to do this, and if," You emphasized, letting out a deep breath, "How am I going to find him in the first place? I don't know what he looks like or even where he is. On top of that, I don't even know what his name is."

Arthur gave a small nod. "His name is Orm. I believe he is residing in Metropolis at the moment. For the past couple of weeks, he's been going from city to city, with what little Atlantean money he has left on him. I'll send you a description of his appearance. That'll help, but I think you'll know it's him when you see him."

"Really?" You asked, resting your hand on your hip, "I'll know?" But, Arthur said nothing, only giving you that 'know-it-all' look before hanging up the hologram call. 

Huffing, you dropped your hands, only to raise them to your face and rub your cheeks; overall pretty annoyed. Freezing, you cursed at yourself, forgetting to ask how long you'll be watching over this Orm. 

~~~

Sitting on a small bench, you adjusted your open book, glancing down at the pages. But, instead of reading about a boy and his little sister who fell down a laundry chute and into a strange underground world, you let your eyes wander across the sheet of printer paper that you placed in between the pages. Hiding the fact that you were looking for someone by pretending to read. Your eyes scanned around the page slowly, trying to memorize what Arthur gave you. How could you possibly find this man? Especially with what Arthur had given you to help you find him? Metropolis was huge!

Looking up, your eyes quickly settled on someone in front of you at an outside restaurant, there was a man; tall - seemingly - and blonde; eating a burger. Immediately as your eyes landed on him, you knew. Arthur was right. This was definitely him. 

You suddenly stood, shutting your hardcover book with a snap before walking across the street. Your eyes again locked onto his frame, watching as he continued to chow down on the large burger in his hands. It confused and unnerved you, but the closer you were getting to the man, the more your heart began to race. And it may or may not have been because you thought this Orm was rather attractive. Arthur's family had some good ass genes. 

Before you could even figure out what you were supposed to say, you took a seat across from him; the metal of the chair's legs scraping against the concrete ground sharply. The younger Atlantean prince paused his chewing, his crystal blue eyes staring at you with confusion and obvious caution. You understood that if anyone sat before you while you were trying to enjoy your lunch, you probably would've reacted the same way.

"Hello," You began, immediately inwardly cringing at how awkward your own voice sounded, "Um, I'm Y/N." You watched as he continued chewing, though slowly, his eyes continuing to look over you; still wary. "I'm friends with your brother. He asked me to help you, uh, get used to the surface."

At that, Orm huffed, setting down his burger; annoyed. "I do not need any help." He spoke, his voice firm, but smooth; a shiver ran down your spine. “How did you find me?” Without another word, you pulled the paper from Arthur out of the book, showing it to him. Orm’s eyes widened before narrowing, “Is that supposed to portray me?” He asked, gesturing to the crude drawing of himself - drawn by none other than Arthur himself - you could tell that Orm was not fond of the portrayal at all.

You gave him a deadpanned look, mentally finding this whole interaction very funny - funnily enough. But, you still had work to do. "Listen, I don't really want to do this either. I'd rather be at home reading. But, I owe him a favor and I'm a woman of my word. I understand that you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, but you are technically a fish out of water in this situation. There are going to be things here on the surface that you won't be able to navigate." You let out a breath, rubbing your temple with two fingers, "So please, let me at least help you with a few things that are mandatory for those that live on land."

After a few moments of silence, Orm squared his jaw as he rubbed his hands clean of the burger's grease with a napkin. The silence between the both of you was unnerving and tense, but you fought through it, not wanting to back down. Even though you were rather annoyed by this whole fiasco, you were a good person, and you weren't about to let a guy with an attitude ruin things for himself just because of his pride or whatever.

"Fine." He grumbled finally, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "What must I do then?

"Well," You began, gesturing to the side of his burger where you saw a pair of bug legs sticking out, "We have a lot to cover."

~~~

For the next couple of weeks, you began teaching Orm about the surface world, though he was rather hesitant to follow your instructions. In the beginning, he complained and made small comments here or there, but Orm seemed to have noticed your no-nonsense nature. He didn't complain anymore after another firm talking-to, and you found out afterwards that he was a rather fast learner. He had no consistent place to live, moving from hotel to hotel, you knew he could only do that for so long; plus you knew from experience that some hotels were less than ideal to stay in, especially ones that were located near the center of the city. 

Therefore, you decided that Orm staying in one of your homes, near the shore in California, was a more ideal option for him. And if you were being honest with yourself, you were beginning to enjoy the youngest Atlantean prince's company; far more than Arthur's, that was for sure.

During the time that Orm has been staying in your humble abode, you made sure to keep him up with the latest tech, which was far different than in Atlantis, you were sure. From the toaster, blender, microwave, and even computer, you made sure that Orm had at least some, if not all, basic knowledge on the appliances around the house. As said before, Orm was an incredibly quick learner, having mastered most of everything within a matter of days.

However, what you did not expect was for you to begin to like him.

~~~

It had been a long night. You were sending email after email to some of your closest contacts and employees, making sure that they were keeping your empire afloat all the while you were on your "vacation" away from Metropolis. Some of your employees tried to get you to enjoy your so-called vacation, but it was hard to just not check up on how things were doing. 

It was well past midnight, reading and re-reading past emails, and checking your phone every now and then, waiting for the familiar notification sound to go off signaling a new text message to come through. You frowned as you set your phone down on the desk beside your computer, letting out a sigh. You leaned your elbows on the table, rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands, tired and absolutely exhausted. 

Standing up, you shut your laptop and headed to the kitchen, quickly making yourself a small cup of tea; praying that it would hopefully help you go to sleep. You silently wandered around your seaside home, faintly hearing the ocean waves crash upon the shore. Taking a small sip of your tea, you hummed as it warmed your throat before pushing the back door open and stepping outside. 

The warm breeze made you smile, as did the smell of the salty ocean a couple hundred feet away from you. It was hard to see it, but you could see the moon reflecting off the waves. Resting your forearms against the wooden railing of the porch, you occasionally sipped your tea while enjoying the quiet.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" The smooth, yet low voice asked, startling you slightly.

Raising a hand to your chest, you let out a deep breath as you swiftly turned to see Orm standing a foot or so behind you; arms clasped behind him. His eyes never met yours, the deep blues staring right back at the raging waves. 

"Of course." You replied softly, as he did, turning to look back at the ocean in question, "It always is."

Orm wandered over, taking the spot next to you before speaking, "Do you enjoy the ocean?" He asked, his question surprising you slightly, but you didn't hesitate to answer.

"Yes." You replied, "Ever since I was a kid." Taking a sip of your tea, you swallowed before continuing, "I always lived in the city. I hardly got to see the ocean, we- my family rarely went to the beach. But that never stopped me from loving it." You shuffled one of your feet, the soul of your slipper slipping against the white wood. Looking up, you finally made eye contact with him, "What about you? I mean, you lived in the ocean most of your life, what's it like?" You asked, your curiosity clear in your tone.

He looked at you, his sharp eyes almost glowing from the moon's rays in the darkness of the night. "It is wonderful." He replied simply, looking back out towards the sea once more. "But, I cannot really describe it; it is not something one can explain simply." You gave a nod, as he shifted uncomfortably in his stance. "You had spoken that helping me acclimate to the surface was a favor owed to Arthur, correct?"

You nodded once more, "Yes, it was," You began, glancing over at him only to see that Orm was already looking at you, "Though, to be perfectly honest, his favor was much bigger than mine was." You chuckled lightly, scratching the back of your neck as you stared into his blue eyes.

He tilted his head curiously, "Is that so?" He questioned, 

"Well, yes-" You bit your lip, shifting in your position as you glanced back at the horizon, "I just asked to see a whale." 

At that, Orm raised an eyebrow, "A whale?"

You hummed in confirmation, "Yep, I just wanted to see a whale. I really like whales. And sharks. But I like whales the most. They sleep upright which is super cool. They are just so fascinating." You gushed, a bright smile slowly spreading onto your face before you cleared your throat, "I mean, you must’ve noticed. I have like ten paintings of whales in there." You finished, gesturing back at the house with a nod of your head, feeling a bit embarrassed by your small rant. Meeting Orm’s gaze once again, you swore that you saw a small smile on his face, but before you could fully confirm it with yourself, he hummed before looking back at the ocean.

"Was it all that you hoped?" He then asked.

"Yeah, definitely. When I was available, he took me to Maine and used his ocean magic to summon a Humpback Whale." The memory of seeing that whale made your chest swell with pride. You smiled as you watched the waves ripple gently across the sand. "When it breached the water, I felt as if I took my first breath. It was the nicest thing Arthur has done for me."

Orm felt a pang in his chest, a wave of jealousy washing over him, making him shift in his stance, his grip on his hand behind his back tightening. For the past month or so, Orm had grown accustomed to being around you, and he had found himself liking you quite a bit despite how much he disliked humans. It wasn't something he'd admit to anyone else aside from himself, but you managed to make him feel a little better, more relaxed, even. And, he actually enjoyed spending time with you. "Does Arthur do nice things for you usually?" Orm inquired, attempting to push down his jealousy.

You shook your head, "Nope, never." You laughed lightly, before placing both hands on the railing, leaning forward slightly, "He usually likes to tease me, you know, joke around. I find him annoying most of the time." You admitted, "But, I should thank him next time I see him in person." You yawned, grabbing your empty cup from the wooden railing with one hand as Orm turned to look at you properly.

"Thank him?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowing together ever so slightly as you paused at the back door, your back facing him.

"Yeah." You responded softly, shrugging one shoulder, "If he didn't ask me to help you, I never would've met you." There was silence between the two of you for a few moments until you turned your head to look back over at him, meeting those same deep blue eyes that seemed to stare right into your very soul. You took the moment to let your eyes travel over his handsome features: the light stubble along his jawline, his blonde hair combed perfectly, the softness of his skin, and his lips. You could have stayed longer looking at him, staring at the man who unknowingly caused so much pain in your heart, but you could not allow yourself to continue. Instead, you quickly averted your eyes, clearing your throat awkwardly, "I'm going to head to bed. Goodnight, Orm." You said before ducking back inside.

"Goodnight, Y/N." Orm muttered, his voice low as he stared at the back door, where your figure had disappeared into, his blue eyes lingering on the door for a moment before he sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. It wasn't long until he looked back at the crashing ocean, his eyebrows furrowed. 

When Orm found himself living with you at your beach house, he did his best to keep his distance, avoiding you as much as he could when you weren't trying to teach him the ways of the surface-dwellers. His stubbornness was also partly due to the fact that he was brought up in such a way to hate surface-dwellers; to despise them as a whole, and everything they stood for. But, even still, he couldn't bring himself to truly dislike you. Despite the nagging of his father's words echoing in his mind whenever he was close to you. He felt... something towards you. Something different; something new.

~~~

The next morning, you were up bright and early, heading downstairs to grab yourself a cup of coffee. Humming a soft, upbeat tune, you shimmied around the kitchen as you poured yourself some coffee; adding cream and sugar.

Glancing around the kitchen, and tilting your body to the side to peer into the dining room, your humming came to a stop. Usually, at the time that you came down for coffee, Orm had already figured out how to make his breakfast. Which usually consisted of eggs, bacon, and tea. 

Frowning, you furrowed your eyebrows, glancing at the clock on the wall before finishing up stirring your tea. Grabbing the warm mug into your dominant hand, you pulled the edges of your cardigan closer around you; the mornings were always so chilly, being so close to the ocean and all. 

Stepping out onto the back porch, you paused. There was Orm, leaning against the wooden beam of your railing - just as he did the night before. He was dressed for the day, in the Surface-Dweller attire you helped him buy. Sometimes, it was hard to believe that he wasn't from the surface world, he fit in so perfectly. His forearms were resting against the railing, slightly bent at the hip, his stormy blue eyes staring off into the crashing waves of the ocean only a couple of mere hundred feet in front of him. You leaned against the doorframe, worrying on your bottom lip. He must have missed his home - Atlantis - you knew that he did. You couldn’t imagine leaving your home, being forced to never return, in fear of imprisonment or even death. Even though you and Orm had a pretty rough beginning, your heart broke for him. 

Your mind raced with possible ideas of how to try and cheer him up, your eyes flickering down at the wooden porch floorboard, spotting bits of sand sprinkled around here and there from your many adventures from the shore. You allowed your gaze to flicker back to the Atlantean man, studying the contours of the side of his face closely, taking in every detail. His brows furrowed tightly together, his lips slightly pursed in deep thought. He was so... Beautiful. Especially as the morning sun filtered into his hair, shining upon the blonde strands, causing them to appear almost white. 

You blinked for a moment, shaking your head slightly as you focused back on trying to come up with an idea to cheer the man up. And then, it hit you. A surge of excitement rushed through you, making your skin buzz slightly at just the idea. Making yourself known, you walked over, taking your place beside him as he had done last night for you. 

"Hey," You spoke up softly, setting your mug down on the railing, your fingers curling around the ceramic; warming them. "Good morning."

Orm turned his head, his gaze landing on yours before he returned his attention to the ocean, "Good morning."

You sighed, turning your gaze to stare at the ocean yourself, shuffling one of your socked feet against the wooden floorboards. "Have you eaten?" You breathed out, raising your cup to take a sip.

"Yes," Orm muttered, glancing at you briefly, "And you?"

You shook your head slightly, taking another sip, "No," You spoke against the rim of your mug, "I have not yet." You suddenly felt nervous, as the words that you had wished to say slithered on the tip of your tongue. "I was wondering if you'd like to go on an adventure with me?" You asked, turning your head to look back up at him, his eyes meeting yours. 

"An adventure?" He repeated, raising a single eyebrow.

You nodded, unable to stop a smile from spreading on your face, "Yeah, well, I was thinking, you've been cooped up in this house for far too long." You placed your mug aside, turning your body to face him, your eyes bright. "So..." You trailed off, tilting your head to the side a bit - trying to read him, he seemed curious. "What'd ya say?"

"Where is it that you would like to take me?" He asked then, sounding curious and yet, hesitant. 

"It's a surprise." You answered quickly - your excitement obvious - before grabbing your mug and speeding back inside. Pausing at the door, you braced your hand against the doorframe, looking back over at him. "You'll love it. I swear."

~~~

"May I open my eyes now?" Orm asked as you helped him out of your car, his hand covering his eyes, as you had asked him to do. From stepping out of the car, Orm could feel the difference in the air; it was warmer out, and he could still smell the salt of the ocean. And yet, he had no idea where you were taking him. 

"No yet," Orm felt you take his other unoccupied arm, your two hands intertwining as you led him away from your parked car towards what he assumed was the entrance of something.

Orm hummed, the hand over his eyes twitching slightly from the urge to just look, "You are not leading me to my death, are you?" He asked, his tone laced with amusement.

"Hmm, no." You played along as you pulled open one of the double doors, leading him inside, "I wouldn't have you stay with me, for almost four months, just to take you to some secondary location to kill you." Your words made Orm chuckle as you began to drag him further into whatever mysterious place you had taken him to.

As Orm followed blindly beside you, he tried to tighten his hearing, seeing if he could pick up anything around him. For the most part, he didn't hear any signs that anyone else might be around. As far as he could tell, it was only the two of you. He couldn't help but wonder, why the sudden trip? With a gentle tug, he felt you come to a stop, one of your hands dropping from his arm. 

"Okay," You breathed out, "You can look now." Dropping his hand, Orm blinked his eyes rapidly, before they widened. So... This was where you were taking him. An aquarium. The water from the aquarium tunnel reflected on the walls in a kaleidoscope effect, tinting in stunning blues and greens. Fish, some sharks, and even a few stingrays of all species swam about everywhere. The underwater tunnel gave off a soothing atmosphere, as if the water itself was saying; 'Welcome.' His eyes followed the graceful movements of the sea creatures above, his ocean-blue eyes flickering from fish to fish, his lips parted slightly. You broke your gaze from the tunnel, turning to look up at Orm, your smile slowly dropping as you took notice of the expression on his face. It was hard to decipher it, your mind beginning to overwhelm you with 'what ifs' and terrible doubts. "Do you not like it?" You asked softly, your voice filled with uncertainty. Orm swallowed hard, but you continued, "I mean, of course, you might hate it." You began to ramble, running a hand through your hair, looking anywhere else but at him, "I mean, this is technically like a prison for fish. But, I assure you, I practically built this aquarium - all the fish have all the food they could possibly want, all the space-" Orm looked down at you, watching as you continued to stumble over your words, “I know you must have been feeling homesick, and I know you can't really go into the ocean, so I thought that you might like it here-”

“Y/N.” He finally spoke, interrupting your rant, “Thank you.” The words seemed to have easily slid off his tongue, his eyes softening as you stared up at him with those eyes of yours. 

“So, I haven't upset you?” You asked, pulling your bottom lip under your teeth once more. 

Orm shook his head, reaching up with his hand, his thumb gently brushed against your bottom lip, pulling it from between your teeth, freeing it; you felt your cheeks heat at the touch, your eyes fluttering momentarily as the warmth of his finger pressed against your bottom lip. “You have not upset me.” Orm tried to reassure you, giving you that smile of his that made your heart flutter. “In fact, this must be the best surprise I have ever received.” 

“Really?” Your eyes lit up, your smile growing, and at Orm's nod, you sighed, “Wow…” Turning back to look at the fish swimming in the large aquarium glass around you, you spoke once more. “Beautiful, isn't it?” You mimicked his own words from two days prior.

"Yes," Orm muttered, "Very beautiful…” 

Looking up at him, you were surprised to find Orm already looking down at you. You felt your breath hitch, again, unable to look away as his eyes bore down into yours with such intensity. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, a faint crease appearing on his forehead. The air around you grew thick, and it wasn't until Orm reached out, cupping your cheek with one hand, that you finally realized just how much closer your faces were than usual. And yet, you did nothing to pull back. Instead, you simply held your breath, your gaze locked onto his, as his thumb ran along your cheek, his fingers tangling themselves in your hair slightly, drawing you closer to him.

His brows furrowed deeper, his eyes darkening slightly as he gazed down at you. His lips parted slightly, a breath leaving him, before he leaned forward; his lips barely brushing against yours. Slowly, hesitantly, he closed the distance between the two of you. Your eyes fluttered shut as his hand slid down from your cheek to cradle your neck, keeping you close. Your arms wrapped around his middle, your fingers gripping tightly at the fabric of his sweater - you never wanted this moment to end.

The kiss lasted mere moments before you both pulled apart, unable to stop yourselves from smiling at each other. Orm felt an immense sense of happiness overtake him as his blue eyes met yours, his cheeks tinted a soft pink. "Arthur was right," He said - mentally hating the words that seemed to slip so easily from his lips - his hand moved to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, his thumb grazing across the shell of your ear.

You couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, raising one hand to press his palm into your cheek, "Arthur was right about what?" You narrowed your eyes playfully, "He's hardly right about anything."

Orm let out a deep sigh, silently agreeing with you, "The surface world is not as terrible as I always believed and was told." He smiled down at you, his hand falling from your cheek to take your hand in his, "You have proven that. As well as Arthur.” You tilted your head to the side lightly, letting out another laugh before shaking your head; Orm's smile quickly turned into a small, anxious frown, "Don't tell Arthur I said that."

"I won't." You promised, your eyes crinkling as you laughed out your words, "He wouldn't shut up about it if I did." Orm chuckled as he nodded his head as you interlaced your fingers with his, "So..." You trailed off, "Do you want to see the rest of the aquarium? I rented it out for the next two hours. So, we got the whole place to ourselves." You waved your free hand in the air, gesturing to the long empty tunnel that led the way to the rest of the aquarium.

"Lead the way." Orm smiled, squeezing your hand in his own gently as he allowed himself to be guided by you; he would follow you wherever you went.

---

Main Masterlist | DC Masterlist

[missjadesfics]

Arthur Curry | Aquaman

Arthur Curry x Reader - No fair, they get two. Arthur and his girlfriend become an Aunt and Uncle and want a baby of their own | coming soon

Forbidden Fruit - Arthur Curry x Reader Arthur has a crush on Bruce's younger sister, Y/n.

Clark Kent | Superman

Bruce Wayne | Batman

Orm Marius | Ocean Master

Orm Marius x Reader - Can you show me? After Orm adapts to life on the surface, he meets Arthur's childhood friend. Afraid to commit, the reader shows him the wonders of everything he has missed. | coming soon

The Joker

Jonathan Crane | Scarecrow

Coming soon

None yet

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

The Second Age of Heroes

by Black_Victor_Cachat

Diana: "People said the Age of Heroes would never come again." Bruce: "It has to. We don't have any more time!" After a pause and visible reluctance, Diana finally said, “I may know of two more warriors.”

-X/\X/\X- -X\/X\/X-

Trapped on another world, and away from the ocean, Percy and Annabeth are happily retired. But then aliens invade . . .

Words: 6645, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, Justice League (2017), Movie: Zack Snyder's Justice League (2021) - Fandom

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: F/M

Characters: Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase (Percy Jackson), Diana (Wonder Woman), Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Barry Allen, Cyborg (Character), Alfred Pennyworth, Mera (DCU), Nuidis Vulko, Orm Marius, Steppenwolf (DCU), Nereus

Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Clark Kent/Lois Lane, Other pairings? - Relationship

Additional Tags: Beta read by, VixenRose1996, and, MasterQwertster, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, BAMF Percy Jackson, Powerful Percy Jackson, BAMF Annabeth Chase (Percy Jackson), Genius Annabeth Chase, Canon-Typical Violence, Steppenwolf has killed gods before, What happened to Arthur Curry?, Child Soldiers, Purely Zack Snyder version

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/44127900

[tonystarkspropertymasterlist]

DCEU Main Masterlist

heed the warnings if necessary

Aquaman:

Arthur Curry Masterlist

Mera Masterlist

Orm Marius Masterlist

Justice League:

Diana Prince Masterlist

Bruce Wayne Masterlist

Clark Kent Masterlist

Barry Allen Masterlist

Victor Stone Masterlist

All:

Masterbation about S/O Multiple (Justice League) HC’s - Read the title.

S/O having Clinomania Multiple (Justice League) HC’S - clinomania is the desire to stay in bed.

Birds of Prey:

Harley Quinn Masterlist

Huntress Masterlist

[lovely-lady-lumps]

Updated Masterlist

MARVEL

Tony Stark

Steve Rogers

Bucky Barnes

Peter Parker

Loki Laufeyson

Venom/Eddie Brock

Charles Xavier

Erik Lehnsherr

DC

Bruce Wayne

Jason Todd

Dick Grayson

Clark Kent

Orm Marius

Miscellaneous

Borra (Maleficent)

October Writing

[mathiwrites]

five years, a clark x orm fanfiction

Chapter 1

Five years. That’s all we have.

The rain beats against the ground, warring against a cacophony of thunder. It weighs heavy on his lashes, begging him to close his eyes and free himself of the memory before it begins. He wishes he could forget—he wishes the storm would drown out the words spilling from his lips.

“If I could, I would choose you.”

Clark nods, slowly, with the weight of lead in his veins. “I know,” he answers, quietly. 

Above them, cars and trucks speed across the Clinton Bridge. The West River smells faintly of sewage—runoff from Gotham’s latest violation. Clark tips his head up, leaning to every and any distraction to stop his throat from clenching tightly and his eyes from burning. At the very least, Orm won’t be able to see him cry.

“I have loved you with my whole heart, husband,” he says, a familiar grin dancing on his lips. If he’s going to say goodbye, he’ll do it the right way. Clark is the sun at the heart of a tempest, always looking for the bright side. He is the only light that reaches the dark depths of Atlantis, one that Orm is reluctant to let go.

“And I you,” the King of Atlantis answers. His fingers flex and clench, the only betrayal of his schooled emotions. Even after five years, he has yet to reach the heights of expression that Clark is famous for or that Arthur flouts at every turn, but he means every word.

For five years, in stolen moments away from duty towards his people and his honourable lineage, Orm was home .

With that, Orm pulls off the ring Clark had made him—a secret symbol of the promise they made for one another. Until the day he is to marry his betrothed, he is Clark’s. He regrets none of it, yet the sight of sorrow in those bright blue eyes made him wonder if he has caused more harm than good. He has done everything that was asked of him, part of which was curiosity for the surface and the world that stole his mother from him, but mostly it was the joy he brought Clark. 

Why me? He has yet to uncover that secret.

Clark remains still, unable to close that finite distance and reach out to Orm. He lets the Atlantean take his hand and press the warm metal into his palm. Their touch lingers for too long, and it chips away at his fractured heart.

He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it immediately. Every step that has led them to this moment has been Clark’s fault, anything more and there will be nothing left of him. It hurts too much.

“Ask what you want,” Orm demands with the patience of a monarch, but he would not ask if he did not care.

“One last time,” Clark cries, long past the barrier of self-control. “Kiss me one last time.”

The kiss is love; the kiss is devastation. Clark buries his fingers in Orm’s soft blonde hair, clutching at him desperately. Orm pulls him into his arms in turn, the press of his touch hard enough to bruise. (It won’t. There will be no wounds and no scars, it will be like nothing at all.)

Clark kisses him hard, his tongue unravelling with all the grief he will carry for years to come. He pulls back, gasping for air because he cannot kiss and he cannot sob all at once. The world asks for him to hold it up, time and time again. Who will help him hold himself together? 

(I have every faith in you, and so, it will be , Orm had told him once. You must keep going, it is the only way.)

“I am sorry.”

“I know,” Clark muffles into the crook of his neck.

When Orm leaves, he takes the thunder, the lightning and Clark’s joy.

[mathiwrites]

five years, a clark x orm fanfic

Chapter 2

“I’ve got it.”

Clark releases the finger pressed against the tiny transmitting device behind his ear. The alarm blares over the sound of Bruce’s voice in the comms from halfway across the world, and despite the distance, he can be there in seconds.

“Wouldn’t Aquaman be better suited for a job like this?” Bruce drones.

“Why?”

“Politics.”

“Would now be a good time to tell you I haven’t been paying attention?”

“Ooooh, Superman’s in trouble,” chimes in a third voice.

“Hal, get off the line. You’re not needed.”

“Ouch, c’mon B, that hurts,” Hal complains, but doesn’t clog the communications any further.

The Man of Steel twirls in the sky, a spiralling torpedo towards where he’s needed. Whatever diplomacy Arthur is supposed to display when working in the sea, Clark is confident that he can behave just as well. He just wants to help, nothing less and nothing more. It shouldn’t be this difficult to offer the world a hand. He’s happy to, actually.

Chatter clogs his mind as he listens to distress calls and rescue efforts. The radios crackle with electricity. If he closes his eyes, he can place exactly where they are. One fishing boat responding to the alarms from the west. A helicopter’s blades beat against the sky in time with his heartbeat.

What about the people on the rig?

Leave them, they’re dead.

To a human man, death is an unfortunate truth. To Clark, that answer is simply unacceptable. His uptick in speed is marked with an audible boom. He clocks the important details of the burning rig: fire, trapped civilians, oil spill, failing structural integrity and incoming rescue efforts.

“I’m here,” he informs the Justice League.

“You’re on your own,” grunts Bruce from the end of the line. The rest of the League are away on personal business; the creation of their team wasn’t to lessen their burdens, only make them more efficient. Working alone can’t be helped. 

A younger Superman would have barreled through the metal walls of the rig and saved the people without a second thought. After all, material things can be bought and rebuilt. He would have seen the fire and figured the water would take care of it. No lives lost would have been the bottom line. He’s older now and he knows better. Each decision he makes in how he rescues people, or the methods he uses to defeat enemies comes with consequences.

Debris from the tower rains around him as he lands on the helipad. He tears off the doors, likely sealed to prevent the fire from oxygenating and inhales deeply to mimic the same intent. When he exhales, his breath is cool as ice, but only enough to snuff out nearby flames rather than freeze. Clark works his way deeper into the rig in the same fashion, finding the survivors who have locked themselves in the only room untouched by the fire.

The people look on in terror as he rips the door off its hinges. It takes them a brief moment to drink in the bright reds and blues of his uniform—the gleaming ‘S’ emblazoned on his chest and they cheer.

“We’re not out of the woods yet,” he informs them, enunciating each word so they travel loud and clear across the sounds of disaster. “Is anyone hurt?”

There is a worker with a broken ankle. He can’t put any weight on it, so Clark slips an arm under his shoulder for support. Another older rig employee worries about keeping up with the rest of the group, so Clark scoops him up into his arms. Clark is the last person to leave the room, pacing himself next to the injured man. 

“We need to go faster. Get on my back,” he says calmly.

The rig wails—a final cry of a dying animal—and Clark knows the rig won’t hold. He senses it before it happens, and there isn’t enough time to save them all. Humans are fragile. Move too quickly, and the end result is the same as not moving at all. 

“Stop!” He cries out.

The tower begins to collapse, falling towards the helipad.

The sounds of twelve hammering hearts fill his ears, or is that his own fear? He still feels it, even after all these years of heroism. He doesn’t want to watch anyone die, he doesn’t want to have to carry the corpses home and explain that he tried. It’s not good enough, not when people pray to him for the safety of their loved ones. (He tries not to listen; he cannot bear the weight of the guilt, the invisible garrote around his heart that tightens whenever his name spills from the lips of people. 

I am not a god, he longs to tell them.

In moments like this, he feels terrifyingly human.)

The crash never comes.

Instead, he hears low-simmered anger.

“Surface dwellers.”

The words are innocuous, but the tone makes them sound like a curse. Only a handful of people in the world have that ability.

Clark emerges from the flaming heart of the rig, carrying two people, but he stops to blink at the sight before him. With one hand, a masked Atlantean holds the collapsing tower up with one hand, preventing it from crashing upon him, and twirls a trident in the other. He aims his gaze at the helicopter, as if he plans to sink it. 

Ah, so this is what Bruce meant by politics.

The two injured rig workers are set down and Clark appears before Ocean Master within a blink. He holds his hands out, speaking quickly.

“I’m friends with Aquaman and I’m here to help with the clean up, but we don’t have a lot of time. If you can hold that tower up for five more minutes, I promise I will clean all of this up. It’s why I’m here,” Clark emphasizes his mission here. It’s not just about the people, it’s about the environment, too.

Ocean Master narrows his eyes from behind his mask. “If you are lying to me, I will kill you and leave your corpse at my brother’s shores.”

That’s all the agreement Clark needs. One by one, each person is loaded into the helicopter with Superman’s help. He makes sure that they’re all strapped in safely, and once the vehicle is out of the danger zone, he can finally get to work. First, he flies around the rig, extinguishing the flames with alternate superbreaths. He catches each piece of debris as he goes along and stacks them back on more stable parts of the rig. Finally, he relieves Ocean Master of his burden by welding the tower back together.

“You are fixing this abomination?” The Atlantean berates.

“Might as well, unless you want parts of it polluting your waters,” Clark answers, although he’s half distracted by assessing the full extent of the damage.

“I want it out of my oceans.”

“Sure thing,” but Clark is only half-listening. He starts to move away when three sharp points are pressed against his chest. 

“You will listen when spoken to, surface dweller.”

“I am, but look,” he points to the blackening waves beneath them. If he doesn’t fix the damage, it’ll only get worse and Clark can’t imagine how much marine life will suffer from a spill this size. “You can make your point once I’m done,” he grins and steps to the edge, diving into the waters.

A second splash follows; Ocean Master would never allow the fate of his oceans to rest in the hands of a surface dweller, not even a friend of his brother’s. He herds animals away and works alongside this strange man to contain the oil spill. He observes the methods, judging every step because surface dwellers know nothing—not the damage they have wrought to the world, nor how to fix it. If they possessed a shred of intelligence, they would not have employed these methods of farming fuel in the first place.

He is reluctantly and pleasantly surprised when whatever that man is doing works. Before long, the waters are clean and he can breathe again. As promised, the stranger-from-the-surface returns to him, still beneath the waves, and speaks to him.

“You were saying?” Clark smiles at Orm.

Orm’s nostrils flare in annoyance, but he does not point his trident at this bizarre specimen from the surface. This is a plot. It has to be, yet he cannot find the angle. He’s doubly unsettled by the man’s ability to speak to him on his level, beneath the sea.

“What do you have to gain by doing this?”

The smile on Clark’s face fades ever so slightly as he grows thoughtful. “The workers were able to get off the rig safely, as were the rescue teams, and we prevented unnecessary pollution in the area. That’s… pretty much it.”

“And?”

That cannot possibly all that the surface dwelling oddity wants. Not even his brother is without desire; Orm has yet to meet a human he can trust, and he doubts it will change today.

“I made a new friend?” Clark answers tentatively. When in doubt, get ‘em with kindness, is what Pa always told him.

“Ridiculous.”

Orm knows when he is being played for a fool, and he refuses to entertain this any longer. He swims away, abandoning the helpful idiot, but not without casting a final curious glance over his shoulder.

[mathiwrites]

five years, a clark x orm fanfic

Chapter 3

The humans have congregated by the sea. Water laps at their ankles as they toddle around with plastic sticks and plastic bags in their hands—the same horrible materials that suffocate the fauna of the seas. Orm watches from afar with his eyes narrowed just above the surface. This is a mistake; he thought it a kindness to be here and to be open , yet his generosity quickly fades into anger. Among them, Superman barely blends in, splashing around with little care.

He should have known better than to trust a surface dweller.

“Mister! Mister Superman! Can I have an autograph?”

“Sure can! I can even do you one better, do you want a picture?”

“Really?!”

The child’s eyes light up as Superman unclips his cape and wraps it around his shoulders. An older woman asks them to smile for the camera and Superman flaps the cape, then uses his speed to pose just in time for the photo. The picture turns out well because the child screeches seeing it on his mother’s device, and that invites the other humans to congregate around him asking for a photo as well.

“I’d be happy to take pictures with everyone, and if we could take a group photo, I’d love to have that for myself, too,” Superman speaks to the crowd in an authoritative voice. “But let’s remember why we’re here today. The oceans are important to me and so many creatures call it their home, so let’s make sure to clean up as much as we can of this beach today, alright?” He beams like the sun, blinding and warm.

From this distance, Orm can only make out the bright colours of Superman’s uniform and the distinct authority in his voice, despite his kindness. The surface is unkind to his eyesight that has long adapted to the depths of the sea. He waits until the surface-dweller is alone on a farther end of the beach before emerging before him. 

“Oh! Hello, again!”

Too bright and too chipper. Orm does not smile; he regards the man with a flat impression. “Come with me,” he demands.

Superman looks around confused. “But,” he starts, yet seems to think the better of it. If there’s anyone who’s an expert about cleaning up the Ocean, it would probably be Ocean Master. He casts a wayward glance back at the people to whom he has a promise to keep. “I have to be back before three.”

Orm tips his head. As King of Atlantis, he understands duty towards people. He has no obligations for the day, intending to speak with this man about his efforts to help. The thought of waiting for a stranger from the land above should abhor him, but it doesn’t. 

“I will wait,” he says, standing in the water expectantly.

“Oh, okay,” Superman says and continues picking up trash with a stick and placing them in the back. “Did you want to help? It’ll help us finish faster.” There are some extra tools he can share.

“Why do you insist on using this method? I have seen your abilities. You are wasting time waiting on the others to finish their tasks.” 

He doesn’t need to be a genius—he is one regardless—to see how the surface’s damage to the planet far outpaces the humans’ abilities to ‘clean up’ after themselves. Superman could purify this beach in no time and move onto the next.

“Because I’m only one man and if I’m not here tomorrow, humanity needs to be able to take care of themselves. It’s better if people get into the habit of caring for the world around them.” Superman explains, scooping up cigarette butts and a couple cans of beer. He doesn’t seem to mind the manual labour; his mood remains chipper as he moves along the beach.

Surface dwellers are far too relaxed in their affairs for Orm to take Superman’s words at face value. They destroy everything they touch; there is less and less time for them to learn. They must be told what to do and the methodologies enforced. What shame would he bring Atlantis if he would let his people become nothing more than trash productors? Each Atlantean contributes and respects the world they live in.

Orm sneers at Superman, watching this man-beyond-men act in the most mundane way possible. It must be some kind of fetish? To pretend to be something else for the sake of others? He cannot decipher this creature before him who stands above surface dwellers with his sheer power and yet, he remains in servitude of them. His judgement etches itself openly on his face, even when Superman tries to assuage him with pleasant conversation.

“So, what brings you here? Aquaman tells me you’re not a fan of the surface.”

They’ve moved further down the beach. Surprisingly, when Superman got too far from him, Orm would follow along, sticking close by the water while continuing to observe his strangeness.

“For you. There is something I wish to show you.”

A gentle smile spreads on Superman’s features, the same kind he wore when speaking of new friends in the middle of battle. Little did he know, Orm had no interest in saving humans or making friends with one who comes from land.

“What do you want to show me?”

Orm curls his lip. “If there was any merit in telling you, I would have done so already and left.”

“Alrighty, then,” Superman hums, amenable as ever. It’s almost annoying. “Should be done soon.” He refuses to let silence reign and immediately keeps talking. “Do you take all your new friends sightseeing?”

“Must you keep talking? Perhaps you should focus on the task at hand.”

“Talking makes the time go faster or music, but I don’t have any on me.”

Between the two choices, Orm prefers the latter. He glances towards the humans on the beach, spread out decently enough that he does not feel overwhelmed. It’s still too crowded for his liking, but nothing he cannot manage. Making music for the humans is the last thing he desires, but if it truly advances the time on the surface, then he will oblige. He lowers himself so that his throat, nose and mouth are submerged. 

A soft siren song begins to fill the air, so delicate that it could easily be missed by those who speak too loudly or who simply aren’t listening. It cradles the mind of the listener, wooing them into comfort and wrapping them up in beauty. Is it sugar-sweet and velvet soft. It is the cool caress of silk on a hot summer eve. How a song can light him up with a thousand subtle sensations will always be a wonder to Clark.

Clark pauses to watch Orm, his lips parted slightly in awe. Only the furrow of Ocean Master’s blonde brows sets him straight and right back into cleaning; he must have taken it literally, thinking that music would make him work more efficiently. Clark can only oblige, cleaning the beach a little quicker, all while ignoring the goosebumps flitting across his skin beneath his suit.

Whenever someone stops to listen, Clark notices the way Orm disappears beneath the water, refusing to be seen. Is it out of shyness? No, he doubts that. The King of Atlantis would have never shown his face if he was shy . He smiles, and keeps going.

The singing stops at three. Unfortunately for Orm, Superman is not done. A long line of surface dwellers happens before him and he must take photos with every single one, some asking for different poses to which Orm can only scowl. He remains far away, seeing only the blur of red and blue, and the blobs of infinite patience required from him. The photo session ends with one last group photo—the one Superman had been most excited about.

“Follow me,” Orm orders, the moment Superman can tear himself from his followers.

Over the sea and beneath it, the two mirror one another. Superman flies as quickly as Orm can swim, no matter how much the Atlantean King pushes himself. The only difference is while Orm flies in a straight and efficient line to his destination, Superman twists and turns, revelling in soaring through the sky. He enjoys the water just as much as Clark expresses, but it simply is not within him to show it. 

He is strange, Orm remarks to himself for the hundredth time today.

The Atlantean King comes to a slow halt at an unclaimed island, a tiny little place surrounded by reefs and shallows. Most of the fish swim away at the appearance of a larger predator. He motions to Superman to descend and join him.

“Do not touch the coral and do not stand on the reef.”

“Wasn’t planning to. The polyps are pretty fragile,” he smiles softly, showing off his marine knowledge.

Orm is not impressed. Definitely not. He narrows his eyes, watching the surface dweller float from sky to sea. He wonders if, conceptually, it is the same for the man. Does his ability to fly allow him to move beneath the water with the same ease? He refuses to allow his curiosity to get the best of him; he is here to thank the man, not to befriend him.

Beneath the surface, a whole new world exists unbeknownst to the surface dwellers. The flora here is much richer than any human-infested beach with vibrant colours that dance beneath the slivers of sun catching on waves. Dozens of animals, from little crabs, lazy turtles and curious manatees, go about their day, undisturbed. There is a happy little seal that peers out from tall waving stalks of algae, blinking with his big round eyes at Superman. A chunky calf catches sight of the new arrivals and it wiggle-swims its way towards them. Orm kindly redirects it before it face plants directly into his stomach, privately amused at the attention.

He senses the weight of being watches and turns his head to face a staring Superman.

“What?” He asks without thinking. Surface dwellers cannot speak unless they are, obviously, on the surface.

“Nothing,” Superman smiles.

“How are you doing that? Do you not need to breathe?” Orm meant to ask him the last time.

“No.”

“You are a strange surface dweller.”

“It’s… complicated.”

“Explain it to me.”

It’s not that he wants to know this man; Orm has a great respect for knowledge. To think that Superman assumes he cannot understand complex ideas is offensive. He takes it as a challenge.

“It’s a saying. You know, when a story’s long.” Superman grins sheepishly. “I’m not from here. Earth. So, I don’t really have the same restrictions as other people.” He pauses, looking around, and changing the subject for the better. “This is beautiful, really, your highness. But… why?”

Superman is not from this… Earth? Orm has never even seen the stars, yet here he is discussing with someone who comes from beyond them. He understands the choice to move on from the subject, and files the information to the back of his mind. It explains a lot. He had assumed Superman was a product of evolution or genetic enhancement, similar to Topo. 

“To show you the lives of those you saved. These creatures and many more across the world benefit from your efforts of keeping the seas clean. It is only right that you,” he pauses, nodding at the calf that has now turned its attention to Superman and his floating cape. “Face the consequences of your actions.”

Superman laughs, a light and happy sound. It rumbles from his chest into the waters around him. Orm revels in it. Good. He has brought joy to this potential ally.

(And when did a stranger become an ally? He is moving far too quickly for his own tastes.)

“May I?” Superman motions to the little animal. “We’re not supposed to touch them, normally.”

“You may.”

The calf receives many scratches, ranging from under his chin to his belly when he flips over, and anywhere it gives Superman access. Not even companion animals at the royal stables receive such free and open affection. Orm attributes it to the stringent formalities when it comes to showing emotion; his father had engrained it in him to restrain himself in all aspects. Not even his mosasaur receives chin scratches. Would the animal enjoy it as much as this calf?

“Do you think I could come back here and visit my new friends?”

“You consider this calf a friend?”

“The turtles, too.”

Orm must be missing some kind of joke here. He simply narrows his eyes, trying to see through the surface dwellers intent and whether or not it is sincere. To reveal this place to him is an act of great trust, despite its low risk.

“And maybe you, too,” Superman finally says.

“We are not friends.”

“That’s fine, but… you can call me Clark if you want.”

“Why would I do that?”

Clark shrugs and swims alongside the calf. The seal joins them, too, patting the stranger curiously, before swimming circles around the man and the calf. 

Orm does not follow, he is too busy deciphering the mystery unfolding before him.

[mathiwrites]

five years, a clark x orm fanfic

Chapter 10

I’m the only one that sees him—

A distant, errant thought as he (the sun) gazes upon the face of the moon. This man is foolish, hiding beneath a cowl that masks his eyes—two sharp glimmers of bladed passion—and a suit that screams monstrous.

He descends upon injustice like the a knight, like an avenging angel for all those who have been wronged—

For the child that he cannot save,

for the child that he still is.

On gentle nights, he can sit here, as he does now, admiring that which refuses to be percieved.

“What,” growls the epitome of the Night.

“You’re amazing,” answers the Sky.

Beneath the dark doom and gloom, a gentle flush colours his cheeks. He’s not so cold, after all. It’s only a facade, an act of terror because he cannot be afraid if he is the one instilling fear.

“I worry about you. Your judgement’s shit. Stop staring at me like that, idiot.”

“Why? It’s a good suit, and a good name. I’m your best friend, I’ve got to be your number one fan and encourage your terrible ideas. It’s in the handbook.”

He grins, and he is fond—so fond—of this man.

The gentle slosh of waves at his feet distract him, pulling him away from the dream parading as a nightmare, and the Bat hisses his disdain.

“Get back,” swears that thing borne of darkness.

“You first,” froths the tide.

His brow furrows, watching the battle from afar—

Silly sea,

Moody moon,

Don’t you know? One cannot be without the other.

And you are both important.

[mathiwrites]

snippets / disney

He’s settled on the armchair across from Orm, cracking open a beer and putting on yet another must-watch film. While they’re living together, Arthur is determined to make sure that Orm watches all the childhood classics. In the past couple of weeks, they’ve gone through all of old Disney, and now, they’re firmly into new Disney. They’ve already seen Moana four times, and Arthur has definitely tried to scare the shit out of Orm with too-loud ‘you’re welcome’s.

He then shares the Disney collection (with Clark). “I do not wish to hear ‘You’re Welcome’ until the end of my days,” Orm states, somber.

[mathiwrites]

*nervous laughter* haha i'm in danger (also hoping this holds me accountable for my work, maybe?); i'm also hoping this finds my readers and reassures you i'm still typing away!! probably!!

Wildflowers - Tamlin x Rhysand - 101k words - 47 Chapters

Wildflowers is the story of Tamlin's life, from his youth in the Spring Court with his family, the war in Prythian up until the beginning of ACOTAR. It fleshes out the world of Prythian and hopefully, answers questions that we never got answers to. This story is explicit with mature themes.

five years - Clark Kent x Orm Marius

Orm is the king of Atlantis and he is betrothed. His marriage is set five years from now is to fall in love with a certain Clark Kent. Bound to duty, he promises to give all of himself to Clark within the time they have.

the lighthouse - Orm, Arthur & Atlanna happy family AU

An AU where Atlanna chooses to take Orm away from the pressure of Atlantis and her husband's ambitions for power. She brings him home to Amnesty Bay where he can be raised alongside his brother at Tom Curry's lighthouse. Together, the boys get into all kinds of trouble. This fic focuses on happy family feels with occasional Atlantis drama popping up every now and then.

the justice league's mom's book club's guide to vampire slaying - Martha Kent, Alfred Pennyworth, Atlanna & Hippolyta

Martha, Alfred, Atlanna and Hippolyta start a book club. Together, they remember what it feels like to be themselves and not just the parents of the Justice League. Well, for most of them at least. Throw in some vampires and now we have a party.

[mathiwrites]

five years, a clark x orm fanfic

note: sorry, I realized I never posted the updates on Tumblr! will be posting all the chapters on here until I’m caught up!

Chapter 7

Little Potato ignites into a ball of sparks. One moment he’s splashing in the water, and the next, he’s perched on Orm’s shoulders, gumming into his soft blonde hair and effectively ruining his fishy coif. Little Potato is not its official name, but it has been two years and Orm wonders if it’s too late to ask. That’s the name everyone calls it— him , he reminds himself.

He tips his head forward and the child tumbles into his arms, half-giggling and half-growling at him. He offers his hand for him to tussle with.

Another child latches onto her mother beside him, and Orm does not think twice. A warrior queen such as her should continue her line. Her heirs will be formidable with the right training, these tiny harbingers of death. The second child, he’s told, is a Little Empanada. Or was she rolled into one like Little Potato and his burrito blankets? After five years, he still cannot care for these ridiculous surface foods.

The children are a welcome distraction.

“It is almost the end.”

He remembers a time when they had tried to kill each other, and yet here he is, asking for advice for the hundredth time. He poses no question, but Queen Komand’r has always understood him. They are one and the same; mirrored souls on different paths.

Komand’r hums, a deep purring rooted in her chest. She shifts the child onto her other breast.

“It does not have to end,” she finally responds, calmly.

He follows her eyes to the distant skyline. It’s too dark to see where the sun meets the sky, so he hopes to see flickers of her errant thoughts—hopes to find the solution to his problem. In five years, they have both made lives for themselves, yet only one can keep theirs.

“That is what I told him.”

It never occurred to Orm to stop after his marriage to Mera. Clark was the one who drew the line. After five years, until the day he is to marry his betrothed. He does not understand why, but he respects the decisions. More and more, he realizes that he does not like the decision. In his heart, and in his mind, his love for Clark will never end.

Komand’r’s laughter snaps him from his reverie, soft, yet harsh and mocking.

“You wish to continue two separate marriages and continue to sit on the throne? Selfish,” she reprimands. She is the one with two lovers— two husbands —and yet, she does not inspire hope within him. “Men like Kal-El and Barry are full of love, but they honor tradition in their own ways. You cannot expect Kal-El to share you with another, yet disallow your lovers to share each other.”

“Mera is not my lover,” he states, neutrally. Mera is his duty to his kingdom. That is all. He will perform as necessary to grant Atlantis an heir, but Clark is the one who holds his heart. Clark is the one who knows him, the real him. “You are saying… I should allow Clark and Mera to marry each other.”

“She is not your lover. What would be the point?”

Orm has observed her relationship for a long time, ever since the beginning of their alliance five years ago. He acknowledges that Barry and Harold are intimate with one another, the same way the Queen of Tamaran is intimate with them. The proof is here, cradled awkwardly in his lap and biting him viciously.

“Enough,” he tells the child and Little Potato snarls at him. Playfully, of course.

“What works for me may not be true for you, King of Atlantis. I allow a regent to sit on my throne while I live here. Are you willing to make that choice for Kal?”

“No.”

In his own private way, Orm hesitates. The value of the throne has been beaten into him as a child. It turned him against his own brother, once upon a time, and there are days where he struggles to believe that Arthur is not simply buying his time before he finally challenges him. But… there is little he will not do for his brother, Clark, or the allies he has met on the surface. Clark insists they are friends, and perhaps his husband is right.

“I must protect the people of Atlantis.”

“You imply that I do not?” Komand’r tips her head, her emerald eyes narrowing. “You insinuate that my brother cannot manage our planet while my sister and I are here?”

“No. That is not what I said.”

Komand’r hums, short and clipped, as if she does not believe him. She shifts the child to lay against her shoulder, bouncing the baby and gently tapping its back. When the little one burps, it is with a dark flame.

“Whatever you choose, understand what you ask of Kal. If you ask him to wait, he will wait while you spend half your life with another. Is that what you want from him?”

“No.”

Komand’r’s ascension to the throne was not like his. Orm trained for it, inherited it and now, he defends it. It is not his place to judge the politics of another planet, and he respects the Queen for success in conquering her planet. From what he understands, it was preferable to her people if she did not sit, actively, on the throne. Though she still reigns, it is from the shadows, and a more palatable sibling represents her will. 

“Kingdoms come and go, but a love like this? You cannot win it, you cannot conquer it. It simply finds you, and it is your choice to nurture it or let it die. Do not toy with the Kryptonian. It will cause more harm than good.” 

The air fills with static, a precursor to the arrival of a ‘speedster’. Orm can tell whether it is father or son by the prickle against his skin.

“Hiya,” Barry Allen grins, appearing out of nowhere with a crack and a snap. “Ready to go, kitten? Hal’s already there.”

“Duckie,” Komand’r greets with an uncharacteristic softness. She smiles—only at him, and never anyone else. When she stands, she gives a full body shake, freeing herself of the sand. Immediately, her eldest screeches and jumps into her thick dark mane, using it to swing into the arms of its father. His father. They nuzzle one another and it is reminiscent of the Wright Kingdom and their customs.

Orm watches the small family for a brief moment. This was her choice, living a simple life in a too-small apartment with a soft human. Two soft humans. She loves them enough to weave their lineage into hers, to give her seat to a child with human blood. Her life is the antithesis of everything he has ever known. He watches as Barry catches his child, nuzzles him and tosses him into the air. Little Potato does not come back down. Instead, he floats and sticks his tongue out at Barry. The warmth between them is bright, like a beacon in the night. 

He glances away.

“Well, we’re off. You alright here, Orm?” Barry asks, sporting a Little Potato hat.

“Yes.” Why wouldn’t he be?

“I require babysitting next Friday.” Komand’r states.

“I will discuss it with Clark.”

“Excellent.”

“Okay, say ‘bye Uncle Orm’,” Barry takes his baby’s tiny furled hand and waves it in Orm’s direction.

“Bye, Uncle Orrrrm ,” the older child growls, grinning. He floats towards Orm’s head and hugs it, before flying back to his parents.

“Farewell,” Orm nods.

Like the names of the children, he wonders if it is too late to ask. Why must he sit on the children?

[mathiwrites]

five years, a clark x orm fanfic

note: sorry, I realized I never posted the updates on Tumblr! will be posting all the chapters on here until I’m caught up!

Chapter 6

Arthur has been staring for seven minutes. Something’s different about his little brother, but he can’t quite place it. The younger Atlantean never gives anything away, but today’s not different from any other time spent together—he’s determined to crack his brother’s stoic facade. 

There, right there.

He hadn’t seen it the first time, but once he noticed it, oh it’s game over.

“What’s got you in such a good mood, Ormie?”

“I have told you not to call me that,” the King of Atlantis snaps. His annoyance still doesn’t deter Arthur, who keeps grinning and floating lazily in the map room. Orm doesn’t lift his gaze, studying the mess of plans before him. “I am in no mood.”

“You’re always in a mood. Today, it just so happens it’s a good one.”

The sigh that escapes Orm gives Arthur pause. Did he read wrong? No, wait there. It happened again.

“You keep doing that with your hand.”

“Doing what.”

Arthur tries to mimic the gesture, an aborted semi-circle, like a little fish trying to turn on its tail. It’s cute, suspiciously cute. Orm has other tells, but this one is new. He’s never seen it before. He might not have been paying attention… or maybe Orm has never been happy to see him? Nah . Arthur’s a treat to be around, even if he (apparently) threatens the throne.

“I do not do that.”

“Mhm, if you say so.” Arthur swims closer, crowding his brother’s space with a ridiculous grin. He has years of brotherly needling to catch up on. It’s his fated duty to be extra annoying. He doesn’t want the throne; all he’s ever wanted is a brother. So, he’s here with all his overwhelming affection.

He keeps staring and grinning.

“What, Arthur? There is no mood! There is nothing for you to worry about.”

“Did you have a good lunch?”

“Lunch was acceptable, as always.”

“The palace hires the finest cooks, yeah, yeah, I know.” 

He keeps circling Orm like the most petulant shark. Arthur’s brows raise with amusement. “Is it a girl? Oh, a boy? No, no, a Wright?”

“I would never,” Orm snaps. He detests the customs of the Wright Kingdom, and their incessant nuzzling. Arthur knows that. Honestly, Arthur loves the otter-people. It’s why he volunteered to be Atlantis’ delegate; he has no problem swimming around holding Prince Hopi’s hand while they discuss anything but politics. “I am betrothed to Mera. You know that.”

“I did not. Who’s Mera? Is she hot? I bet she’s hot in a murder way.” Everyone in Atlantis is hot in a murder way. Or a tentacle way. At least, that’s what Topo says.

“Mera is of average temperature. If she was hot, we should concern ourselves with illness, not murder.” Or poison. 

Orm never reveals the source of his hand-wiggle, and he keeps his hand balled in a fist throughout the rest of Arthur’s stay, so as not to indicate anything. Arthur keeps prying, but he gets nothing and that’s boring.

They only have so much time together, between running a Kingdom and being a member of the Justice League. Arthur considers their time precious and important. Time spent with Orm helps remind him that Arthur wants nothing to do with the crown. Not now and not ever, unless Orm wants to step down. He’ll do it for his brother and his mother, but no one else.

Tipping his head, Arthur touches the comms device in his ear.

“I’ve gotta go. League business.”

“I am not a child.” Orm glares. 

“You be good, kiddo. I’ll see you in two weeks?”

“Very well.”

Arthur picks Orm up in a bear hug, spinning him and ruffling his hair.

***

Two weeks pass and Arthur has not been seen. Normally, Orm would not brother with their absence. There is a mysterious ache in his chest at the distance, but he accords it to the consequences of strenuous training. A king cannot afford to go out of practice; a challenge can arise at any time and he must be ready.

He does not understand the intricacies of the Justice League, only that they are heroes, however nebulous the term might seem to him. From what he has learned from Arthur, occasionally, missions do not go as planned. That is fine. What is not fine is the way the hammock has begun to rot on the island from disuse and their flowers have withered. Clark has been gone longer than Arthur, almost a month, and perhaps it is Orm’s own fault for not questioning his absence sooner.

He has a kingdom to run. Clark has a surface to… exist in. These are their responsibilities.

Clark had mentioned this city, briefly, as the home of Superman. Each of the members of his League have staked a claim on their own cities: the Flash and Green Lantern in Central City, Batman in Gotham, Arthur in Amnesty Bay and Wonder Woman in Paris. While he may not show any interest in these other surface dwellers, save for the princess, Orm still listens.

Metropolis is vile. Ugly. There is no colour here, only grays. Their vehicles sport basic colours, nothing close to the rich gleams found within the sea . He notes the way they move and the people inside them. Surely, someone will know where to find the hero of their city. He steps into the middle of oncoming traffic, ignoring the vile screech of those moving cans. 

“Bring me Superman!” He demands, raising his trident in the air.

The vehicles swerve around them. Surface dwellers yell at him, and one dares to make his way towards him. He is the King of Atlantis, do they not know what it means to challenge him? He will not mourn their deaths.

“Hey, ass—”

He swings his weapon, intending harm. He has made his demands. He will not repeat himself. The impact is halted by the hand of another. The League boasts only one woman, and the one before him is made of something other than wonder. She stares at him with narrowed emerald eyes—she has no pupils and no iris, only a haunting green glow embedded into her face. Her skin is unlike any surface dweller he has crossed, a deep orange, like the sunsets on his island.

The human scurries away, glancing back at the Amazon-like stranger. She is tall and she is strong, but he harbours no doubts that he can defeat her.

“What business do you have with Superman?”

“Bring him to me and I will tell him directly.”

She seems to consider it, despite her impassive expression. “No.”

“Then, I will simply rid myself of all who stand in my way.”

His opponent is fast. She moves with a speed and strength that rivals Superman. He strikes at her, and she leverages flight to gain the high ground. No matter. With the magic of his trident, the winds bend to his will. They sweep her up into a hurricane, along with a handful of other surface objects.

With her out of his way, he can resume his search for his loved one. 

Now, where to begin?

The woman gives him no reprieve, darting through the maelstrom and crashing into him. She collides into him with enough strength they crater the street beneath him. Still, this is only a fraction of the pressure of the sea’s depths.

Snarling at him, her clothes give way to black armor, as black as her flame-tipped hair, crawling across her skin. Armor is not the correct word for it, there are obsidian spikes on her shoulder and hips. Her arms and legs are covered, but her soft belly is left exposed, a critical design flaw. In that moment, he decides that he will gore her belly to prove that Atlantean weaponry is superior to anything the surface can create.

“Shame,” she hisses. “Any of the League would have let you live.”

Orm huffs, unafraid. Does she truly think that this is the end for him? Not even close. He flicks his wrist. Static fills the air moments before the lightning strikes her.

She cackles wildly, her eyes widening. Raising her hand, a spear materializes from her palm, blooming outwards as she absorbs the lightning.

“Tell me your business with Superman and perhaps, I will let you live.”

“No.”

He bucks her off him, and she flips, floating in the air. This time, their blows are concussive, each strike and parry echoing with resounding boom throughout Metropolis. The humans have sought cover from the lightning and the damages caused by these two warriors. Orm knees her in the stomach, but dark fire summoned in her hand burns him. The sensation is agony, akin to being without water for days— weeks. She begins to rain fire on him, so he summons a storm. Each droplet rejuvenates him and renews his efforts.

“Bring me Superman,” he demands through grit teeth.

“N—”

A blur of red and blue crashes into her, taking her into the nearest building. The sound of pummeling fists is even louder than their clashing weapons.

Orm’s brow furrow.

“Super—”

It happens just as quickly to him. The attack and this time, the impact winds him. Above him, Clark snarls. His blue eyes have turned black, and a spider web of  dark veins surrounds the skin around them. That is not his Clark. His Clark would never raise a fist against him without reason—his soul is too gentle for that.

Superman catches the black spear thrown in his direction. The armored woman pulls herself out of the wreckage, blood trickling down her nose.

“Blot out the sun and restrain him!”

For a moment, Orm thinks to tell her that he takes orders from no one, but her spear is already disintegrating, sticking to the skin of Clark’s hand, and he knows there is little time. He uses his trident to hook Clark close and hold him close as he begins to thrash. The woman launches herself at them, and her armor begins to encase Clark.

Superman’s screams are deafening.

It wears on him, gnawing at his chest and he recognizes this feeling as guilt. Orm remains steadfast, despite his regret in trusting this stranger.

“Let’s see how you like it.”

Emerald railroad spikes appear out of nowhere and pin Komand’r to the ground. They fly towards Orm, and he is forced to release Clark to dodge. A man dressed in black and green, donning a mask over his black eyes, floats above them in the sky. He traps the woman in a circular green prison, and Orm in a strange box with a gentle wind.

What strange nonsense is this?

“Harold, if you do not release me, I will beat your ass.” She bangs against the walls of her prison.

“Hot,” the man purrs, grinning in return.

Orm’s only addition is a single question: “Am I supposed to perish listening to the stupidity of this conversation?”

The woman turns to look at him, tilting her head, as if he’d offended her. “You are in a pet dryer, you sloth-brained nitwit. It will kill you slowly and gently.”

He has no frame of reference as to what a pet dryer is, but the threat of death has him trying different tactics to get out, including banging against the construct’s walls, and trying to summon the elements to work in his favour. None work. The air within the dryer begins to dehydrate him, and his lungs burn. The agony centers at his chest, where his heart strains.

“Hal,” the woman’s voice softens as she presses her hand against the emerald wall. “It is me. You promised you would be my safety. You swore it. Hal, there is a reason you are a Lantern. You are stubborn, fight it and help me find what is ours.”

She provides a perfect distraction for him, but before he can do anything at all, the green disappears. The man takes Superman with him, retreating into the sky. He watches as she tries to go after them, too weak to fly.

“So,” he says, masking his pain. His weight presses entirely on his trident. “You too, then.”