[ There it is. The fight that he'd expected. It doesn't take a fucking rocket scientist to gage that Vi would not be receptive to being manhandled, not by a fucking long shot. Katsuki wouldn't–he fucking gets that. He gets the animalistic fury that drives her to elbow him hard in the ribcage after finding that she can't nail him in the face from this angle. Thinking of the Sports Festival and how they'd thrown his hands into quirk repressing restraints and fucking muzzled him to force him onto the first place podium if not for the urgency in keeping Vi firmly pressed to his chest as she thrashes hard. Snarling and spitting obscenities and threats just like he tried to that day. God, if he'd had the chance, he would have fucking killed anyone in his path at that moment.
His ribcage hurts, something might've cracked under the strength of impact, but this solid fucking wall refuses to budge for anything she throws his way… so he thinks. Including the harsh headbutt that knocks his head back and has the teen shouting in pain; has his vision going hot white with the stars that definitely do burst into his vision. It's a sickly crunch in his head–indeniably fucking broken, but even still Katsuki’s grip on Vi is relentlessly strong.]
FUCKING– NNH! STOP IT, I AIN'T-
[Shambling into view, that third figure is fucking massive and even through the slow of her roll, even at that small sound of a name on her lips and the way everything pauses for just that moment… Katsuki doesn't relent. He keeps her pinned against him despite that, because he just knows that it's a sense of shock at seeing his presence cultivating itself within her. Whoever this is, they're important. Father, maybe, but the usage of a name versus the use of the word Dad has him leaning towards a father figure at minimum.
Going to let yourself get killed falls flat, because it all happens ridiculously fast. That undeniable strength and will of steel doesn't stand a fucking chance against what comes next. If he thought he was seeing stars before with the broken nose, boy did he have another thing coming. Vi's heel connects in between his legs with an accurate, blindingly painful ferocity that immediately has the boy's knees crumpling beneath him, the only sound a choked out:] Gyahhk!!
[ There isn't a need for her to throw his arm off, the hand that had fisted tightly into her jacket to anchor himself to her releases instantly and Katsuki folds like a precariously stacked house of cards as soon as her support leaves him.
He can't fucking breathe despite his body's sad attempt at sucking in the biggest breath it can to ease any of the agony he's suddenly in--fucking god he seriously might fucking puke or die or BOTH!!! FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK!!!! Over and over in his mind like a screeching broken record, a word he would repeat out loud if he had the capability to do anything but writhe uncomfortably on his knees. Blood from his nose drips onto the rock and the hand that he uses to at least keep himself held poised in that knelt position–his wounded pride won't let him go the full mile and entirely hit the floor even still. The flashlight he'd dropped in his fall turned to illuminate the mess right in front of his face.
Whatever the fuck is happening over there? Can't do a damn thing about it yet. It's an agonizing amount of time before he's even able to gasp in some very needed oxygen. All Katsuki can do is spare a glance to the scene unfolding nearby; Vi has stupidly fucking wound her arms around that behemoth of a fucking creature and is apologizing which is a sight that seriously makes him feel even more sick to his stomach with dread. That hand on her head is surely going to end in a snapped neck or something equally heinous–Katsuki is almost sure of it. No fucking apology for whatever she has done in her past is going to stop that. And there ain't a damn thing he can fucking do about it. Vi made sure of that.
The moment doesn't come though, which would almost be relieving if he had any reason to believe it will stay that way. Hoping that it will is for the fucking birds, its senseless. As Katsuki slowly starts to recover, his tear filled but battle ready glare is watching like a hawk as he tries to will the gut wrenching ache in between his legs to go away so he can fucking move. Deciding it isn't going to go fast enough, and that he refuses to trust the passiveness of those fucking zombies she's surrounded by, he stretches his arm with a low groan; out to snatch the hammer from the step just below him.
At the very least, it can get thrown into the skull of the big one and buy her a second should it go wrong. Any fucking suspect move and he's gonna nail that motherfucker right in between the eyes and force himself up to obliterate the others, even if it's the last thing he does.]
Bitch he will make like Liam Neeson and find and destroy you if you do.
His ribcage hurts, something might've cracked under the strength of impact, but this solid fucking wall refuses to budge for anything she throws his way… so he thinks. Including the harsh headbutt that knocks his head back and has the teen shouting in pain; has his vision going hot white with the stars that definitely do burst into his vision. It's a sickly crunch in his head–indeniably fucking broken, but even still Katsuki’s grip on Vi is relentlessly strong.]
FUCKING– NNH! STOP IT, I AIN'T-
[Shambling into view, that third figure is fucking massive and even through the slow of her roll, even at that small sound of a name on her lips and the way everything pauses for just that moment… Katsuki doesn't relent. He keeps her pinned against him despite that, because he just knows that it's a sense of shock at seeing his presence cultivating itself within her. Whoever this is, they're important. Father, maybe, but the usage of a name versus the use of the word Dad has him leaning towards a father figure at minimum.
Going to let yourself get killed falls flat, because it all happens ridiculously fast. That undeniable strength and will of steel doesn't stand a fucking chance against what comes next. If he thought he was seeing stars before with the broken nose, boy did he have another thing coming. Vi's heel connects in between his legs with an accurate, blindingly painful ferocity that immediately has the boy's knees crumpling beneath him, the only sound a choked out:] Gyahhk!!
[ There isn't a need for her to throw his arm off, the hand that had fisted tightly into her jacket to anchor himself to her releases instantly and Katsuki folds like a precariously stacked house of cards as soon as her support leaves him.
He can't fucking breathe despite his body's sad attempt at sucking in the biggest breath it can to ease any of the agony he's suddenly in--fucking god he seriously might fucking puke or die or BOTH!!! FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK!!!! Over and over in his mind like a screeching broken record, a word he would repeat out loud if he had the capability to do anything but writhe uncomfortably on his knees. Blood from his nose drips onto the rock and the hand that he uses to at least keep himself held poised in that knelt position–his wounded pride won't let him go the full mile and entirely hit the floor even still. The flashlight he'd dropped in his fall turned to illuminate the mess right in front of his face.
Whatever the fuck is happening over there? Can't do a damn thing about it yet. It's an agonizing amount of time before he's even able to gasp in some very needed oxygen. All Katsuki can do is spare a glance to the scene unfolding nearby; Vi has stupidly fucking wound her arms around that behemoth of a fucking creature and is apologizing which is a sight that seriously makes him feel even more sick to his stomach with dread. That hand on her head is surely going to end in a snapped neck or something equally heinous–Katsuki is almost sure of it. No fucking apology for whatever she has done in her past is going to stop that. And there ain't a damn thing he can fucking do about it. Vi made sure of that.
The moment doesn't come though, which would almost be relieving if he had any reason to believe it will stay that way. Hoping that it will is for the fucking birds, its senseless. As Katsuki slowly starts to recover, his tear filled but battle ready glare is watching like a hawk as he tries to will the gut wrenching ache in between his legs to go away so he can fucking move. Deciding it isn't going to go fast enough, and that he refuses to trust the passiveness of those fucking zombies she's surrounded by, he stretches his arm with a low groan; out to snatch the hammer from the step just below him.
At the very least, it can get thrown into the skull of the big one and buy her a second should it go wrong. Any fucking suspect move and he's gonna nail that motherfucker right in between the eyes and force himself up to obliterate the others, even if it's the last thing he does.]