|Safer in Your Arms| Bnha [Depressed Deku](On Hiatus)

ₚₐᵣₜ fₒᵤᵣ: Shoto

A/N: This is the same warning as part one so if you already read it, it's the exact same just skip over this lil chunk. If you didn't read it initially, please read:

{{Trigger Warning: PLEASE READ!! This story will include language, abuse, self harm, and suicidal themes. If you feel like you shouldn't or know you shouldn't be reading something like this, then please don't continue. It would crush me to know that someone got hurt from reading my writing and all I could wish for is that you are okay. Also, another side note, I am in absolutely no way trying to glamorize or promote self harm, suicide, or mental illnesses, just bringing light to the issue.

If you or anyone that you know is having suicidal thoughts: please get help as soon as you can. Here's the number for the national suicide prevention lifeline. If you need it call.

1-800-273-8255}}

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[Midoriya POV - present day]

So here I am now, sitting on the front steps of my father's house, at two in the morning, having an anxiety attack, and watching the fireflies as they dance with the stars in the night sky~

Isn't life fucking amazing?

I coughed out a weak, broken chuckle as a mixture of choked breathing and sobs racked my entire body.  Damn, it felt so good to cry like this... to just give in and let myself feel all the pain I'd been running from.  To allow myself to be controlled by everything I was suppressing, transformed by the simplest of emotions.  The rage.  The fear.  The absolute misery.  The hurt.  All of it.  

Even though those were the emotions that put me here in the first place, in that moment it felt good to just feel something, something other than constant numbness.  It felt so good to let the tears flow uncontrollably, to subside and dive deep into the perpetually growing hole of emptiness in my chest.  I would love to just accept it, to be one with the sadness I struggled so hard to shroud away from, to finally be at peace and accept this as my fate.  This... This could be the end...  I could feel my throat closing up from the dangerous mixture of crying and hyperventilating I was undergoing, and my head started to feel a lot lighter than I knew it should've.

I looked down at my shaking hands, before realizing my entire body was shaking.  Fuck, stop.  I... I... I can't... can't... I can't breath!  Fuck!   My 'breathing' was reduced to irregular wheezes and coughs; everything that was happening to my body only increasing the panic, making the attack worse.  My mind was racing with a frenzy of thoughts, but mostly: SHIT.  SHIT.  SHIT.  SHIT.  FUCK-  BREATHE!  I wasn't crying anymore, but was drowning in air.  I was choking, trying to get my lungs to fucking work.  My head started to go lighter and my body swayed hard to the left.  Half of me loved it, loved that I had experienced this suffering and desperately wanted my existence to end right then and there.  Maybe even a larger portion of my soul was excited to suffocate and die in this spot, sitting here on these cursed steps.  But of course, I wouldn't.  I wasn't free from this living hell, not yet...  My hearing buzzed out to a blood-curdling ringing.  The last thing I saw was a blurred mixture of bright, swaying lights in the night sky above of me before I blacked out and was enveloped by the darkness.

And then the first thing I saw when my eyes reopened was a blob of pink.  No, not pink...  My eyelashes fluttered as my vision adjusted, and the colors separated.  Not pink... red and white.