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plasticfangtastic · 6 months

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Carnivorous lamb ch 1

A Homelander x Male! oc fic

A/N: this is a prequel to a fic writen for @digitalbath2008 and my kinktober prompt, hope you like it- thx 4 giving me the inspo :) I could not control myself, i had to write the prequel/sequel to them ‘cuz I love writing this OC and he plays a minor role in my WIP so I don’t get to play with him often, his faceclaim its Nicolaj Coster-Waldau if that helps

Sypnopsis: A young Homelander finds absolution from all that would make him rotten.

tags: R18, NTR-ish, dubcon, age gap (Homelander is in his mid 20’s, OC’s in his 40s) older man, DILF, priest kink, moral degradation, slow burn.

Chapter One

Spring

The soft spring sun settled into the horizon covering it all in its runny yolk, the cool breeze made Father Amarello shiver slightly, tightening his cardigan as he ventured the gardens.

Expecting to find a curious hare munching on his tomatoes instead a much more curious sight caught his sight. Sitting in the rusted metal bench was a young man wearing the most peculiar gear. He had seen these costumed figures on the telly, and on his favorite brand of cereal, never had he ever seen one in person, they were for big city folks, they didn’t seem to ever grace middle of nowhere small towns much less the kind of town that was only known for its clean restrooms at a busy rest stop, most never noticed the small town even when they drove past it… so why was this Superhero in his gardens eyeing that curious hare as it munched on some parsnip leafs.

He raised his sight towards the older man who immediately put on a friendly smile.

“Afternoon.”

Nervously walking towards him, he rips a couple tomatoes fresh off the vine on his way towards him, he observes the blond man closely, to him he looks so young he might pass for a boy but he looks as if something had aged him, he chucked it to the pressure of the job, the closer he got the more he noticed the blue of his eyes almost as blue as his suit– he had seen this man before, it took him a minute to remember the name from the newspaper.

“You… You’re The Homelander, no?” He looks around– Is there anything I should be worried about?”

His tone it's surprisingly calm as he approaches the young hero.

“Is there some trouble, perhaps?”

Homelander only shakes his head.

“Didn’t mean to frighten you– I was flying over and it seemed like a nice place to rest…” He stood up looking slightly embarrassed– didn’t mean to be a bother, sir.”

“That’s a relief… admittedly I was looking forward to seeing some action” he chuckled dryly– is alright, my son. Rest all you like I imagine flying can be quite exhausting.”

He looked at the older man catching a glimpse at his handsome face as the man smiled kindly, and the intense pale green of his eyes.

“Is not… flying… not for me anyways.” he spoke awkwardly observing the man as he filled up his arms with salad ingredients– hmm… your sermon… it… it was nice.”

Homelander expected to be received with the same fanaticism and awe as he had with so many others but this strange man seemed little impressed, opting not to leave to satiate his newly formed curiosity over the man.

“Thank you. Were you listening the whole time?”

He nodded, he had listened most of the service, he had flown over many churches listened to many services from afar, as part of his branding they wanted to foster this good christian boy image but he found them boring, the way they talked, the way they all clamor and lost their minds as the preachers got louder, the music always excessive but this had been simple, the passion behind it earnest... but what he had liked was in his voice… it was light, pleasant… like listening to flowers, he thought.

“Yes…”

“You should’ve come inside… No matter the creed all are welcome in this parish.”

“I’m an evangelical.”

“It’s never too late to seek the light.” He gives him a sordid smile– well enjoy the gardens, feel free to take some peaches or blackberries or anything… will not recommend the brussel sprouts… is for the rabbits.”

It had been odd to be ignored, the man retreated inside after a quick wave, he watched him as he wandered into the small house attached to the church, nothing more than a cabin– all contained into one single room with a bathroom awkwardly installed on the side, he considered taking something but he left soon after.

He would come back a few days later still thinking of the lack of reception he had gotten out of the priest, the man stared at him just as friendly as before, throwing the gardening gloves aside as he saw the young supe descend– he had to admit that was quite the sight.

“They do say I got the best peaches in town.”

Homelander almost fumbled his landing at that moment, the priest seemed to have not noticed as he leaned on his rake.

“You don’t seem impressed?”

“About what exactly?”

“Me.”

“Oh it’s quite fascinating that you can fly and I can’t but I've seen my fair share of miracles.” Homelander can’t help but to think his smile is smug even if it doesn’t look like anything– So how can I be of service?”

“I… I… wanted…”

“To join?” He looked up at the man wearing his dark gray clerical shirt and sullied jeans, he took a weird step forward towards Homelander– as I said all are welcomed– even Supes. Altho it’s a few days away from Sunday.”

“I wanted guidance, actually. I’ve been having a crisis… but I don’t… I don’t think the people at Cape’s for Christ or Samaritan’s embrace can help me…I… I don’t know where else to go.”

“I can’t blame you. The message is good but the deliverance leaves… a lot to wish for…” He cleans his hand on the back of his jeans before offering it to Homelander– Amarello. Father Dennis Amarello– and you?”

Homelander raised an eyebrow, vividly remembering being recognized on their last encounter.

“It’s Homelander your government name?”

“John…” he said nervously-- John Gillman."

Homelander instinctively took his hand catching the sudden grimace on the man’s face when he received a gloved response, he followed him inside to find a quaint and claustrophobic parish, it was nothing but two wide rows, a sweet balsamic perfume permeated in the air, just as woodsy as the old worn down pews.

“You don’t like ‘Capes for Christ’?”

“I believe Supes are a gift from God. His way to protect us… I just don’t like how commercial it is… I generally don’t think any preacher, pastor or priest no matter the creed should live anything but humbly– which extends to his parish. Massive concert stages don’t fit my standards.”

“That’s a lot to say to a stranger.” He swallowed, feeling offended.

Father Amarello sat down on the front pews, urging the young man to take a seat.

“I only answer things honestly.”

“Rudely.”

“You got blood on your glove.” He lifted his hand to show the specks of dried blood at the bottom of his palm heel– please sit.”

Homelander flustered slightly, staring at his hand where he had missed it, his expression melted into something awry, his chest sinking as he stood there staring at the man who seemed completely unbothered.

“When I was a boy… my father murdered my mother… he shot me… and then… god send me one of his soldiers... a supe… her name was Agent Rogue… She killed my father and took me to a hospital– Blood doesn’t bother me at all. I understand that this must’ve come from your job.”

Homelander had nothing to say, before he knew it he sat beside him with his eyes firmly on the floor, he had a hard time believing the man could speak so softly, as he recounted something so horrific.

“I knew I wanted to do good after being rescued, but I had no powers or smarts… until I felt God calling for me. I realized that I could still help people just like that woman did for me, if I followed God and helped spread his message– people’s lives could also be rescued too by his grace. Our father just forgot to tell me to fix my personality.” His chuckle was short.

Homelander smiled slightly unsure of how to feel.

“So… tell me, son, how can I help you?"

His mouth opened on its own, his sight fixated on those pale green eyes.

“I… I don’t know… I think I’m bad at my job… I keep failing and no matter what I do… they praise me but I don’t think they mean it… as if they’re afraid of telling me that I'm doing wrong. I want to save people. I’m a hero. I just keep messing up” His voice cracks– nobody wants to help me.. they just expect me to know… but I keep asking… and I listen but… I still mess up… I thought God could help me… I don’t want to mess up anymore… I don’t want to cause Madelyn any more headaches.”

Father Amarello sat silently for a few seconds smacking his lips pensively as he stared at the stained window and the portraits of saint’s it held.

“You have more casualties than you wish for?”

“I should be catching the bad guys alive too… I just… humans are so frail.”

“You shouldn’t feel bad about killing those who decide to harm others… but it will pollute your soul… is a heavy burden you’ll carry for the rest of your life… All you can do is keep God in your heart and seek to right your wrongs… God blessed you with these powers, and you can use them for good” He turns to him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder– your burdens are far greater than those of most men… so perhaps you only fixate on your failures, because you believe you shouldn’t be able to make them? Do you feel guilty? If so… good… feel guilty… feel like you are a monster… hate yourself and self-destruct but then look up and ask God what to do to atone.”

Homelander felt as if somebody finally told him something genuine.

“I don’t think that's good advice…” he says nervously– What if he doesn’t say anything.”

“He doesn’t actually talk back y’know… not with words… signs…” He looked around and took one of the old bibles from the bench– You can learn a lot from this… and you can learn a lot from talking to him but you will only really hear him… when you’re open to him, John.”

He handed him the book.

“Maybe… next time when you save a life, think of that instead of the person who died… the good or the bad ones who died… just that one more person it's alive, and they get to see tomorrow… if that helps a little bit to ease your anxieties… then you can pray later.”

Homelander can help but chuckle as he hears the man speak.

“Shouldn’t I be begging for forgiveness?”

“When you die… God will let you know if it worked. You can do everything you can in your power to do good and you should– but ultimately it's out of your hands… I like to think that I’ve done okay… not enough to be condemned to hell… just enough to get a sneak peak of heaven.” He smiled awkwardly scratching his wrist for a second too long– Oh you should definitely do good tho, my son. Like I'm not telling you to start going on remorseless murder sprees like your name is Pol Pot! Just… be aware that we’ll never know if we did enough until it's time. So we just gotta keep trying and not because you want Heaven but ‘cuz it's the right thing to do anyways.”

He leaned back feeling slightly flustered, briefly ogling the young man as he leaned away from him getting lost in his own thoughts, catching a sudden crease on his cheek as he smiled softly, this had been the first time he had ever been so close to one of them, he thought. He expected them to look a lot less human, always so grand and incredible on the pages and the screen, he had grown up with the likes of Payback and other great supes during the ‘Golden Age’ of American heroes– so they never looked like people ‘til now.

The boy was a beautiful thing… so pretty like a girl, he mused the thought. His eyes fixated on the shorn undercut and his tousled blond hair so much brighter than his pale beige locks, at the way his shoulders fit the suit, he licked his lip as a knot buried itself on his throat.

“I must not be very convincing.”

“Is good. Nobody has ever spoken to me like that… thank you.” he stood up after a long pause, turning to face the priest once more– You… You have a raccoon inside your confession box by the way”

“Its quite cute... I just don’t want to wake it up… or get rabies.”

Homelander almost offered to take the animal out, but the priest seemed to not care one bit.

He left feeling lighter than before, thinking that perhaps he was too rough on himself, that those around him weren’t being deceitful… he was a hero, he had these powers to do good and even if a dozen died, Father Amarello was right– one life was better than none.

But it wasn’t easy.

With every added corpse on his back he found himself surrounded by spiritually rotten folks, nobody would aid him, nobody would advise him much less console him, just brush it off, just tell him everything was taken care of – each drop of blood had to be out of his conscience… even the voice in his head would tell him the same– that he had done nothing wrong… that at least one person lived.

He had done the right thing.

Right?

He had, no?

The sight burned into his cornea, those bloodied finger stumps reaching after him, the smell of burnt meat and gas, caught in his nose.

#personal #my fic tag #homelander #homelander x oc #homelander its bi in this story regardless #this its a short work hopefully #i took some personal liberties with HL personality as I doubt he was the way he its now back when he was like 25 which its how am picturing #him in this story #amerello its at most 42 like the same age he its in my original wip but if yall want him to match his faceclaim age feel free #what denomination does homie belong to liek i imagine he's an evangelist bcuz of the way he baptize ppl but next thing yknow he's jehova

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