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——- Kintsugi ——— BKDK/ older Izuku / mentions of past SA / Hurt-Comfort / detective Katsuki / omegaverse / Alpha Katsuki and omega Izuku ——————————— The word hero is usually paired with the fantasy of good versus evil. The good guy saves the day, everyone lives. That bullshit.
When I was younger, I had those naive notions, studied hard so I could be someone who can play hero in the police force. Then I learned that there are true villains hiding behind their hero costumes. That no, you don’t save everyone. That some situations are so fucked,
you can’t imagine the survivors ever being a fraction of normal again. I’m 26, youngest detective in my precinct. I have good instincts, work hard, stay late, and I’ve solved a couple of cases. I do have pride in that. Yet, it’s hard to feel “pride” when I’ve only had -
one survivor. A fucking child. A kid so young, she hadn’t even presented yet. The ugliness of the world can be so dark, the deeper I’ve set foot in it, the less light I can see in it anymore.
I’m a stubborn fucker though, I don’t want the world to beat me. Today we’ve taken down a prostitution ring. They were using an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city, kidnapping young omegas and using them for business. Nasty shit.
“League of Villains”, thats what these assholes called themselves. Just a bunch of cringey Alpha fuckheads thinking they were gods. Felt good to see them in handcuffs, a couple died in the gun fight, but you sure as shit won’t see me crying over them.
Now I’m fishing around this shit hole, looking for some more circumstantial evidence so that they all never see the light of day again. It’s raining hard, there are leaks in the roof so must of the officers are walking in damp uniforms. My gun is pointed at the ground-
as we quietly step into some kind of dormitory. There is a rattle behind a row of bunk beds. It could be an animal, god knows there’s a shit-load of rats here. Yet we all quietly approach the source of the sound with two hands on our guns.
Kirishima, who joined our department the same time I did, is on my left. The guy never stops yapping and smiling except for when we confront these evils. He nods, I watch his adam’s apple bob in a gulp. Knowing I’ve got cover, I grit my jaw as I prepare for a possible-
violent confrontation. Yet, I’m almost excited for it. I know I’m not a good person. Because hurting the villains, watching them whimper in their loss, is my favorite part of this job. It’s a cage. With someone in it.
This warehouse reeks of Alphas. A rancid gasoline pungent stench, a mix of all of these unhappy insecure Alpha pheromones that could make the eyes water. The omegas on our work force couldn’t even enter the building without gas masks.
I call out behind me, “Stand down! We have another hostage!” My boot steps into a puddle as I put my gun back into its holster and approach the cage cautiously. Fuck, is the hostage dead? Dread sinks into my stomach like cold poison.
There hasn’t been movement, I take my flashlight out to inspect the cage. The halo of light flickers onto a skinny boy with only a ragged green T shirt on his body. He sits on cardboard with big round eyes staring up at me, they’re dark green.
His hair is a mangled knotted mess of dark curls, his pale freckled skin is dirtied with the dust and dirt. What tells me he is an omega though,what makes bile rise up my throat,are the bite marks. Alpha bonding marks. All over him. On his arms,his neck,on all his scent glands.
He is the only omega here, the only victim who was found like this. Why? What made him special to them? Was he the first hostage? What makes me especially good at my job is that pheromones don’t affect me. I can smell them, but they don’t do shit. This omega though?
He doesn’t have a scent. Something spikes in my blood. I move without thinking, dropping my flashlight, adrenaline blasts through me like fire. More circles of light surround us as my squad closes in, the cage doesn’t have a lock. I whip the door open and this broken omega -
looks up at me with those big scared eyes, dark circles ringed under deeply. I crouch down on my knees, not wanting to scare him, fuck, I never do the victim handling but I can’t stop myself from wanting to save him. I’m shit with words, but I just say something true.
“Youre safe now.” And I mean it, My lips press together firmly. I’m probably the worst person in our department to save him. An Alpha, red eyed with big canines and a big body. But my body screams at me to protect this omega; to save him.
The omega doesn’t make a sound, he just fails to stand and falls into me. I catch him and just hold him. A storm of glass shard like feelings spiral in me. Rage, rage and sadness. Was this human instinct or Alpha instinct? It doesn’t matter.
Everything seemed to have been sped up before this, the gun fighting, the arrests, it happened so fast. Yet, holding this omega now, unconscious in my arms, everything is slow and blurred. I can’t hear what people are saying to me. I can only think of how light-