onto the editing stage. Get a more clear and final copy of the story. Having said that, when I do edit this story and make the more 'final' version, would anyone be interested in reading it again? The pacing will change, the story order, maybe even the whole story itself. I'm not sure right now.

DRAFT. WFOS Is going to be my debut novel. Its not wrote as a MHA fic, just adapted to fit the characters. I wanted feedback, to see what others thought of the story as I wrote out my idea. There is a lot I want to change, reorder. But I do LOVE the story I wrote. I'm excited to finish it and move-

She shrieked, the sound high and raw, her arms beating against his shoulders. But Renji didn’t feast. Didn’t tear. Just clamped down once, hard, then shoved her away like she was nothing. But even before she made it three steps, her legs buckled. Her body seized in violent jerks. Less than a minute.

Kyoka took hours because they amputated, which was one of the main fears in that arc, did Izuku save her or just slow the infection? ANYWAYS we're making a call back to this quick change- enjoy this super short teaser!

They had seen people turn in minutes. Day One—he remembered the first time. A student in the courtyard. She was running. Screaming. Bit on the leg. She didn’t even make it to the campus doors. Eyes rolled back. Limbs twitching. She dropped mid-step and started crawling crawling—toward her own friend

I have been thinking about actually letting Izuku study them or a few other ideas... We'll get there.. soon.

Echoes more. How they work, what makes them different, everything because I do realize I haven't really explained what they even look like? 10 chapters left. It feels like so much and so little to get across everything I want before book 2. #WFOS

And for the first time in years, Katsuki Bakugou let himself sob with no one there to hear him.

He wanted to run to him, to pull him into his arms no matter how much it burned.
But he didn’t. The door shut with a soft, final thud. Katsuki’s head snapped up at the sound, eyes wild and red. The silence that followed was deafening, crushing in its finality.

tearing muscle from bone. The sound of Katsuki’s ragged breathing filled the apartment, chasing him with every heartbeat. His vision blurred, but he didn’t stop. The door clicked open. For a second, Izuku faltered, his hand trembling on the frame. He wanted to look back.

His throat closed around the words he wanted to scream—I love you, I’m not giving up, please don’t break like this—but they lodged there, heavy and unspoken. Katsuki stayed on his knees, shaking, his face hidden behind his hands. And Izuku… Izuku turned. Each step toward the door felt like

“I don’t know if I’ll survive it this time.” Izuku froze, his hand hovering in the air, trembling. His chest ached like it was caving in, but no words came. Nothing he could say would stitch this back together. Not tonight. Maybe not ever. His hand dropped uselessly to his side.

as if he could tear the thoughts out by the root. “Don’t say you still love me. Don’t. Because if you do… and you leave anyway…” The silence that followed was unbearable. Izuku reached out, but his hand hovered in the air, just short of touching. Katsuki didn’t look up. His voice was almost gone.

Izuku stepped closer despite everything, his voice breaking on every word. “I don’t care if it’s messy, I don’t care if it hurts, I just—”
“Stop!” Katsuki’s roar shattered, collapsing into something far smaller as his knees buckled. He pressed his hands into his hair, tugging,