favorite son - false devotion (prologue)
summary: kal-el returns to you from a quest with his heart on his sleeve and a proposal with your name on it. what does he leave you with? a broken heart and a newfound hatred for his Father.
CWs: so much angst, established relationship (that falls apart), clark goes by kal-el for this whole fic, fem!priestess!reader x demigod!clark, angst, angst, ANGST, no use of y/n, use of pet names (my heart) lots of mean words, overbearing parents, amirite?, very loud arguments, kissing, it's like really sweet right before it gets really bad. i think that's it.
word count: just under 2.5k!
author's note: SHE'S HEEERREEEEEE!!!!! i hope all of you like this!! all of my thanks go to @clarkscolumn because not only did she help me with every step of this drafting process, but she also helped me pull together the pictures you see up at the top because she is beautiful and a genius and i love her more than words can express. thank u bestie. also special thanks to @anon-188 and @thceseus and @sparklingsin for beta reading and supporting this, you guys are so lovely and so smart and so beautiful and i adore you forever.
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“I’ve anticipated your return for ages. My world is much dimmer without your glow,” you coo when you fall into your lover’s arms. Kal-El catches you without hesitation, though you’re not sure if it’s because he’s dedicated to saving mortals or dedicated to getting his hands on you.
His kiss is scorching for a moment when he connects your lips. Warm, deep, flowing with love unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Being loved by Apollo’s children means being drenched in everlasting warmth, and Kal-El is the warmest of them all.
He’s the best kisser of all of them, too.
He separates from you only for a moment. Only to mutter a sassy retort against your lips, as you always expect him to do.
“You reside in the brightest area of Delphi. Surely, you get enough light without my presence. All I do is dote upon your shoulder. If anything, I block your light.”
“That’s true,” you concede while pulling away from his lips and peering up into his eyes. Your body glues itself to his, leans into the soft kiss he presses onto your temple.
“And yet your Father’s kindness shines on us daily. Might that have something to do with his favorite son always visiting?”
He scoffs.
“He has many sons. I am not his favorite.”
“You are nothing but a humble liar!” you playfully shout, smacking him on the arm and giggling when he wiggles his eyebrows at you. His arm is so dense that it most likely hurt you to do that more than it hurt him.
“But, it does not matter. You are Delphi’s favorite, and you are my favorite. That must count for something.”
He grabs your hand and starts to walk a little deeper into the empty field you designated as your meeting spot for his return. Once the city gets its hands on him, you’ll be unable to see him until he leaves again.
“It counts for everything.”
He falls silent after that little quip. When his eyes, bluer than the sky itself, land on you, there’s a curiosity and sense of unease in them you’ve not seen before. As though he wants to ask you something. As if he wants to peer into your soul even deeper than he already has.
You stop walking and tug his massive body back toward you when he continues.
“Something is weighing on you. I know that look on your face better than I know the back of my own hand.”
“I…”
His jaw tightens beneath his golden skin. He blinks and looks away from you. Clears his throat and slips his hands down to yours. When his fingers curl around your palm, your heart jumps. The ache in your body—the painful jolt shooting through your bones—calls to be drawn into his. This simple contact is not enough.
Considering it’ll be one of the last times you’ll get to touch him, it’ll never be enough. But you bask in it, anyway. Better than nothing.
“Speak. You’ve never been shy with anyone, much less with me. Do not begin hiding now, Kal-El.”
He presses his lips into a thin line. Swallows thickly and shakes his head.
“I will not be able to take it back once I say it.”
“It would be better than keeping it from me if it truly bothers you, would it not?”
It’s as though your body is struck by lightning when he leans down and presses his forehead against yours. His massive arms encircle your waist and pull you into his chest. You’re reminded of exactly who his Father is when his warmth bleeds through his damned breastplate you wish he’d shed.
He steals the breath from your chest when he presses his lips against yours. Something he’s done a thousand times, and yet something you’ll never truly get tired of.
Something you’ll miss for the rest of your days.
Just before his tongue has a chance at slipping into your mouth, you pull away and squeeze your eyes shut. With a press of your fingers against his lips and a soft hum, you mutter, “Use your tongue to speak, not to get beneath my clothing.”
He smiles against your digits. Presses a soft kiss on those, as well, and threatens to make you melt. As if his heat wasn’t overbearing enough. For the second time tonight, he grabs your hand. Intertwines your fingers. The deep, nervous, shaky breath he pulls in scares you.
“I think,” he softly begins, but pauses. As if fright itself has overtaken him. He glances up at the sky for a moment. When he returns to you, he lowers his voice even more.
“I want to retire. Find a home. A wife. Have children and raise them in peace.”
That thought has crossed your mind a million times before. It’s in every dream. Every daydream. Every waking moment where you aren’t being bogged down by your home duties. Even when your mind is focused on something else, that thought is simmering in the back of it. Always there, like the feeling of his skin on yours in every midnight rendezvous you’ve shared over the last few years.
But the gods are always listening. The gods would never let him settle down with someone like you. Your father would never let you settle down with someone like him.
So you give him a small chuckle and half-heartedly respond, “Retire? While you’re in your prime? Your Father will have something to say about that.”
“If I’m his favorite as you’ve suggested, he will not.”
“That’s precisely why he will say something about it.”
You smile. Your eyes slide down his breastplate, over the various cuts and scrapes in the armor. Your hands follow your eyes. How you wish to touch this strong, broad body without anything covering it. Like you’ve done so many times before. Like you won’t be able to do after tonight.
“I hope you find what you’re looking for, Kal-el.”
That brow you love so much furrows. The man you love more laughs at you, something laced with disbelief and accompanied by a soft squeeze of your hands when he finds them again.
“I have found it,” he declares without an ounce of fear in his voice. You wouldn’t be surprised if his heart was on his sleeve.
“It resides here. With you.”
That should make you happy. You should be jumping into his arms with glee, running through the town square and shouting that you’ve been claimed by your patron god’s favorite son. Your eyes should be welling with overjoyed tears.
There are tears; they’re just the opposite of overjoyed.
You blink. An attempt to will them away, but a shockingly horrible attempt at that. One slips down your cheek, and Kal-El frowns. Before you know it, he’s wiping your tear away with the rough, calloused pad of one thumb and cradling your cheek with that very same palm.
“Have I offended you? I thought you would be elated, my heart,” he mutters. When he leans down to kiss your forehead, then your temple, then your cheek, down to the tip of your nose and finally your lips, you wish Hades would claim you now.
“You haven’t,” you whisper. A hiccup claws its way out of your throat, an annoying effect of your crying.
“I want nothing more than to be your wife.”
“Then why are you upset?”
“Because I can’t be your wife.”
Kal-El’s frown grows. There’s a beat of silence. You pull away from him and turn around. Turning away from him almost hurts more than looking at him in this moment.
“I can’t. My father, he…”
You groan and push the heels of your hands into your eyes. Best to say it as quickly as possible. Get it all over with. So you turn back to look at him, and you do just that.
“He does not like you, but he knows I would never marry anyone except you.”
“If you let me speak to him, I—”
“He’s already made up his mind,” you interrupt. “There’s no use. You will never sway his decision.”
“And—And you must obey his orders? Are you not a grown woman?” Kal-El raises his voice.
You raise your voice back.
“You know it’s different! Not all of us are living in reckless abandon with the protection of the gods on their side! If I alienate my father, the rest of my family will be forced to abandon me!”
Kal-El shakes his head. He reaches for you and grabs your wrists with both of his hands, then tugs you closer to him than you’ve been in nearly three months. Damn his long, strong arms—he catches you without even trying, and his iron grip around you is impossible to escape.
“Then let me become your family! I love you! I can give you everything! I can give you more!”
“Until you get whisked away by your Father and you leave me alone for months!” you yell when you yank your wrists away from him and take a few steps back.
“I don’t want to be alone, and don’t act as though it would not happen! You always bend to your Father’s will. You have no right to judge me for doing the same with mine.”
“Then what will come of us?” he pleads. The high pitched desperation in his voice almost makes you leave. Breaking the heart of someone so kind is not for the weak, and you are nothing if not weak.
“My father wants me to become a priestess. It was either that or lose everyone. I accepted.”
“They can get married!”
“Not those with the role that I’ve been placed in!”
Things fall quiet, but only for a moment. While you’re staring at each other, he shatters the not-so-peaceful moment. He asks something that you’re sure he didn’t want the answer to.
“For what temple?”
His question hangs between you. Sticks to your skin because of the humid air surrounding you both. Tortures you and burns you more than anything you’ve ever had to endure in all your days.
You shake your head. The answer is one he won’t want to hear.
“Must we discuss this? I want to spend the fleeting time we have left together in good spirits.”
“Good spirits? How could we possibly be in good spirits now?”
“I’m willing to put it aside if you are. Willing to forget your proposal.”
“No, you,” he cuts himself off with a frustrated sigh. Backs away from you a little, just far enough so that you can’t reach him if you extend your arms.
“You are stalling. Answer me. What temple?”
“One in the city. You will be able to reach it instantly with your Father’s gifts. We will not have to separate from each other unless you decide to leave me.”
He doesn’t seem to care about whatever justification you attempt to feed him. His now angry eyes meet yours, an unforgiving glare that you’ve never been the target of. You feel nothing but sympathy for the monsters he’s slain in battle.
“Who will you serve?” is his gruff retort.
You were waiting for that question. You knew it was on its way to you. But something in you refused to cope with the possibility that it was coming, so now you squirm uncomfortably while you pick at the skin around your nails. Your bottom lip quivers. You can’t make yourself look at him even if you tried. The silence speaks volumes, clearly, and the huff of disbelief he expels while he turns from you makes your heart ache even more. You’ve only just gotten his face back, and he’s already taking it away from you.
“This must be a joke.”
“Kal-El, please—”
“You won’t marry me, but you’ll dedicate your life to my Father? Do you know what you’ve done?!”
“I did not choose to do it! My father is to blame! He—He forced me to do this! The only thing I could control was which of the gods I was allowed to serve!”
“So you chose my Father?!”
“Yes!” you shout at him. Your voice echoes in the space between you both. Echoes into the warm, sticky night air, forces Kal-El into silence aside from his heavy, deep breaths. The moonlight itself is refusing to shine on this altercation, refusing to illuminate this shame. Perhaps Artemis is taking pity on you now that you’ve pledged yourself to her brother.
“Yes, I chose your Father!”
You cover your mouth to let out a sob. Through your teary, blurred eyes, you see his hands twitching at his sides. It’s almost as if they’re begging to reach out to you, to touch you, to comfort you. It only makes you cry harder.
“His favorite son will never be denied access to his temple! I may not be able to marry you, but I refuse to lose you completely!”
He looks at you as though you’ve slapped him across the face. As though you’ve stabbed him with the intention to kill. When his voice finds its way back to you, it’s harsh. Bitter. Something you’re certain you deserve.
“You’ve given yourself to my Father, and you expect me to visit you? After this betrayal? The gods themselves are not this cruel!”
He turns away from you. His broad shoulders and back have never been a source of discomfort for you, but there’s seemingly a first time for everything. He starts to move forward, and you shake your head. A broken little whimper of his name leaves your mouth and stops him in his tracks.
“You’re engaging in the very cruelty you speak of by abandoning me!”
“I cannot visit you if I cannot have you.”
“Is that all I am to you now? A potential wife? Some—Some sort of possession to tend to your house and bare your children while you are out slaying gods and monsters?”
He continues forward after you throw those poisonous, hurt words at him. He’s trying to get as far away from you as possible, judging by the speed of his gait. Since it may very well be the last time you’ll see him, you swing a little lower. Raise your voice to rid yourself of the lump deep within your throat, of the strain from all your crying, and yell one simple sentence:
“Were we not the closest of friends long before we were lovers?”
That gets him to stop. Gets him to turn around and finally look at you. If the moonlight was shining on him, you’re certain you’d see tears.
“Surely, our friendship is more important to you than me becoming your wife, Kal-El. I will remain the same girl you fell in love with. My heart still belongs to you.”
He shakes his head. Sends you a pitiful smile that you know doesn’t bode well.
“It belongs to my Father, now.”
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literally the best fic i’ve ever consumed
