{"sf1_id":1314193,"sf2_id":"J1O84Qze","title":"A Heart Bound","author":"Ishner","words":1545,"posted_at":"2018-03-07T01:43:20.000Z","tags":["Depression","Dragoness","Human","Male","SFW","Story"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1314193-a-heart-bound","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/J1O84Qze","image_url":"https://www.sofurryfiles.com/std/thumb?page=1314193\u0026ext=.jpg","description":"If I did this right, this should be a very emotionally raw story about a poor soul lost in despair and its long, painful journey toward healing and restoration.   \n  \nI chose this title for a good reason. For those of you who can't keep your mind out of the gutter or simply aren't familiar with some of English's less mainstream terms, 'bind' can also mean 'to bandage'. I do cover that in the story, but I want to pointedly mention it here because the word MUST be defined correctly in order to understand the story's purpose.","content":"A Heart Bound\n\nby Samuel Slater\n\nConsciousness quietly ambushed him. One moment he was drowning blissfully in the depths of oblivion;\u0026nbsp;\n\nthe next, he felt fully aware. He found himself laying on his belly. A strange weight rested firmly\u0026nbsp;\n\non his back, pinning him to the ground. Heavy yet soft warmth enveloped his body, creating a\u0026nbsp;\n\nwonderful illusion of being tightly wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. If only the soothing\u0026nbsp;\n\nsensations could bring comfort to his tortured soul.\n\nHe bit back a sob and felt himself break all over again. His despondent heart shattered into a\u0026nbsp;\n\nmillion tiny shards too fragmented to ever put back together. At least, it should have shattered.\u0026nbsp;\n\nAn alien force stubbornly held it firmly in place like a skin-tight barrier. The firm grip holding\u0026nbsp;\n\nhim together proved far stronger than its gentleness implied.\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd yet, he wished the strange force wasn't so powerful. As bad as his pain hurt, he wanted it. He\u0026nbsp;\n\nneeded it. Brokenness was all he knew. All he had. The pain didn't just encompass him, it was him.\u0026nbsp;\n\nIt had become such an integral part of him that he couldn't bear to let it be taken away.\n\nRebelliously, he fought back against the unwelcome entity keeping him alive. It had no right to\u0026nbsp;\n\ninterfere with his private misery. He wanted it gone. He pushed against its hold, harder and\u0026nbsp;\n\nharder, trying to escape its unyielding grasp. He burned through hidden reserves of energy like\u0026nbsp;\n\nfire consuming an oil spill.\n\nRage fueled his efforts. Years of pent-up self-loathing tore free, demanding a target for their\n\ndestructive energy. He eagerly used that vast supply of hate, focusing it on the one who dared\u0026nbsp;\n\nstand in his way. No matter how much anger he burned through, there was always more on hand,\u0026nbsp;\n\nwaiting to be used.\u0026nbsp;\n\nFury became the entirety of his existence. The volatile emotion fed off itself. Rage created even\u0026nbsp;\n\nmore violent rage in a never-ending chain reaction. He became an uncontrolled explosion of anger,\u0026nbsp;\n\nclawing for escape. And he would escape. Nothing would hold him back. He would break free and\u0026nbsp;\n\ndemolish the force holding him at bay. He would smash it for having the gall to stand up to him.\u0026nbsp;\n\nAs soon as he wrestled free of its grasp, he would swarm in and destroy it utterly.\n\nSomething inside him shifted. Something changed. The pipeline to his precious anger closed off.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe emotion sustaining him suddenly vanished. With nothing left to feed off, his rebellion flamed\u0026nbsp;\n\nout as brilliantly as it was vain.\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnger had been his last bastion. His final desperate defense in the face of overwhelming despair.\u0026nbsp;\n\nNow stripped of his strength, he lost all sense of purpose. The ice in his heart leached warmth\u0026nbsp;\n\nfrom his bones. The darkness in his soul blotted out all memory of light.\u0026nbsp; He was lost and afraid,\u0026nbsp;\n\nweak and helpless, cold and purposeless. He was so very, very alone.\n\nA sharp claw slowly trailed along his cheek and traced his jaw--a dragon's caress. An act of love\u0026nbsp;\n\nand comfort in a world of emptiness and despair. The tender affection crushed him. The walls that\u0026nbsp;\n\nhad felt so restrictive and suffocating a moment before now felt like a cavern of infinite size.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThis time he didn't stop the tears. He sobbed hysterically. He turned his head around and buried\u0026nbsp;\n\nhis face in the long neck behind him. He desperately needed something solid to hold onto. Something\u0026nbsp;\n\nto prove he wasn't utterly alone in a universe full of darkness. The physical contact helped.\n\n\"Shhh. It's ok. I've got you.\" Her voice was a soothing balm for his withered spirit. It promised\u0026nbsp;\n\nto ease the unbearable pain tormenting his soul. It spoke directly to his mind, by-passing his\u0026nbsp;\n\nears, and the rest of the physical world, entirely.\n\nThat voice. As benign as it sounded, he could feel the vast, fathomless power behind it. Power to\u0026nbsp;\n\nshape him as she saw fit. The power to build him up. The power to tear him down. The power to\u0026nbsp;\n\nsimply erase him and replace him with something better. It should have terrified him. It didn't.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHis meaningless life was disposable, worthless even to himself. He had stopped caring about it\u0026nbsp;\n\nlong ago.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe voice filled him not with fear, but with shame. Why him? She was strong enough to do anything\u0026nbsp;\n\nshe wanted. She could be out serving some great and wonderful cause, something worthy of her\u0026nbsp;\n\nawesome might. Or she could be off satisfying her own deepest, darkest desires. Instead, she was\u0026nbsp;\n\nhere, wasting her life, trying to rescue a pathetic excuse for a human. A man who stayed alive\u0026nbsp;\n\nonly because death was among the many things he could never achieve.\n\nHe found himself on the brink of a terrible impasse. On the one hand, he wanted to push her away.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe didn't deserve any help. He didn't even know if he wanted it. She would be far better off if she\u0026nbsp;\n\nsimply left him alone and never looked back. On the other hand, he needed her. She was all he had.\u0026nbsp;\n\nIf she went away, he would fade until he became as lifeless as a corpse.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe felt trapped, unable to make a decision. He wanted to reach out to her. But he dared not. To do\u0026nbsp;\n\nso would be to condemn her to a lifetime of misery and futility. He should just turn away and spare\u0026nbsp;\n\nher the pain she would inevitably suffer at his side. But he didn't have the strength to make her\u0026nbsp;\n\ngo away.\n\nThe dragoness made the choice for him. She pulled him into her vast mind, submerging him in an\u0026nbsp;\n\nocean of aquamarine. She welcomed his spirit into herself, encouraging him to find peace in her\u0026nbsp;\n\nfathomless mind.\u0026nbsp;\n\nAt first, he fought back. Without even trying, her amazing power could change him in ways he\u0026nbsp;\n\ncouldn't imagine. Then he remembered that he didn't care. If she wanted him, she could have him.\u0026nbsp;\n\nIt wasn't like he could stop her anyway. He finally gave up trying to fight and accepted her\u0026nbsp;\n\nunconditional affection.\n\nNow that she had bridged the gap, he was unable to stop himself from reaching out to her. Even so,\u0026nbsp;\n\nguilt still threatened to overwhelm him. What gave him the right to shove his burdens onto her? He\u0026nbsp;\n\nalmost drew back. Instead, he squirmed against her soft neck, trying to burrow his way through her\u0026nbsp;\n\nscales and lose himself in her all-consuming inner core.\n\nThe barest contact between her curative spirit and his anguished heart left him gasping. Her touch\u0026nbsp;\n\nfelt cool and soothing like damp cloth on a fevered brow. He didn't know which hurt more: his\u0026nbsp;\n\nbitter self-condemnation or her magnanimous absolution. For now, he preferred the shocking cold of\u0026nbsp;\n\nher comfort to the searing fire of his pain.\u0026nbsp;\n\nFor a long time, he remained trapped within her unbreakable embrace. Hot tears of guilt and\u0026nbsp;\n\nself-pity scalded his cheeks. Sometimes he clung desperately to her like a piece of driftwood in\u0026nbsp;\n\nan ocean of pain. Other times he would turn away, struggling in a futile effort to escape her\u0026nbsp;\n\nunbreakable hold. At all times, her quiet strength and gentle warmth enveloped him.\u0026nbsp;\n\nGently, she pried hate's dangerous blade from his grasp.\u0026nbsp; Gingerly, she plucked out guilt's tiny\u0026nbsp;\n\nshards. Determinedly, she stitched closed despair's gaping wounds. Patiently, she set depression's\u0026nbsp;\n\nfractures. Carefully, she wrapped shame's burns. Delicately, she smothered ointment over\u0026nbsp;\n\nloneliness's welts.\u0026nbsp; Thoughtfully, she placed a compress over pain's feverish surface. Bit by bit\u0026nbsp;\n\nshe tirelessly bound his heart as a physician might heal his body.\n\nEventually, his emotions balanced out. For once, he felt ok. He still felt fragile, as if even the\u0026nbsp;\n\nslightest provocation would shatter him all over again. But for now, he felt ok. He took a shaky\u0026nbsp;\n\nbreath and sniffled. In his mind's eye, he saw himself as no larger than a young child. His small,\u0026nbsp;\n\nhelpless form lost within the dragon's embrace. He knew perfectly well that reality was closer to\u0026nbsp;\n\nthe opposite of his impression. His tall, lanky body dwarfed her shorter, denser one.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHowever, the spiritual world, with its ever-shifting nature, told a different story. Within that\u0026nbsp;\n\nrealm, she could easily hold him with one paw and still have room to spare. He found the comparison\u0026nbsp;\n\nreassuring. He had no faith in his ability to stay strong. But maybe, just maybe, with her there\u0026nbsp;\n\nto hold him, he might somehow make it.\u0026nbsp;\n\nIt felt strange letting her comfort him. Had he been allowed to choose a guardian, he never would\u0026nbsp;\n\nhave even considered putting a dragon on the list. Yet now, contained within her warm embrace, it\u0026nbsp;\n\nfelt right. The weight of her small body resting solidly upon his back. The feel of her sinuous\u0026nbsp;\n\nneck outlining his head. The press of her legs pinning his arms to his sides. The gentle squeeze\u0026nbsp;\n\nof her tail as it twined around his thigh. It all seemed right. He couldn't explain it.\n\nAgain, a sharp claw stroked his face. This time he arched into the tingling sensation, nuzzling her\n\npaw like an infant. He gave no thought to how ridiculous he might look. He felt more at peace with\u0026nbsp;\n\nhimself--more whole--than he had in a long, long time. That was what mattered.","series":{"name":"The Dragon and the human","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1314215-a-heart-bound-a-soul-tamed.json"}}