beatinginavoid

[beatinginavoid]

Heyy I was wondering if you're gonna write a story about a character having a heart attack:)

Hi! I'm sure it's on my list somewhere. If not, I'll probably get to it eventually. I have a few requests backed up, but we'll see after that.

[beatinginavoid]

I do enjoy the extra speed and thumpiness a warm bath or shower grants the heart.

I spent an hour in the bath with a stethoscope tied as tightly in place as I could manage. With a tiny bit of breathplay I pushed my heart rate up to 138, but it never dipped below 90.

I simply enjoyed feeling and hearing every single (sometimes irregular) beat. I did feel a bit light-headed and dizzy, so I didn’t play around much.

It's the little things in life.

🩺🫀

[beatinginavoid]

Down Under, mate!

Hello dear heart lovers, steth lovers, resus lovers and everyone from the community. 💗

🌍 Where are you from? 🌍💗

Please reblog this post to expand the community 🙌🏻🥳

[beatinginavoid]

You guys wanted fics so... here you go! This was actually a gift for someone, but I'll share it here now.

-------

The scenery was beautiful in a faintly nostalgic way. Rugged rocks and patches of bare mountainside presented themselves in shades of grey, brown, and rusty red. Dirt and grass switched interchangeably in swathes and patches, various species of flowers reached proudly into the air and swayed gently each time a breeze blew softly by.

Soft, wispy white clouds drifted lazily in their high up ocean of light blue. The sun was a little too warm to be strictly comfortable, but the intermittent breeze afforded some amount of respite from the heat. Some, but not enough for one of the two people currently traversing the mountain.

Tifa frowned, huffed, and stared at the spiky tufts of blond hair on the back of Cloud’s head as she walked behind him. Did he not feel the heat? Was it a SOLDIER thing? She would be jealous of his abilities if she didn’t know the toll that acquiring them had left on her childhood friend.

She wasn’t even sure why they were making their way up the mountain in the first place. Something about an herb or a flower? Some kind of plant at least. One that only grew inconveniently at the summit of a couple of the nearby mountains.

“Are we high enough yet?” she asked.

Cloud raised an eyebrow, unseen by Tifa, at the possible context of her words. He chose to ignore it and take the words at face value, gazing upward and trying to gauge distances.

“No.”

A blunt and to the point answer, just like this version of Cloud that she had stumbled across, miraculously back from the dead. Red eyes narrowed at his back for a moment before she closed her eyes and sighed. Her friend was physically here, but sometimes she wondered if her friend was truly alive in that body.

“What are we looking for again?” she asked casually, hoping for more conversation.

“An herb.”

She waited. And waited. No more words were forthcoming.

“And this herb looks like…?” she prompted.

Cloud absently kicked away a loose rock. “Shiny leaves, waxy feeling, with a stem covered in stinging hairs.”

Tifa pulled a face at that, momentarily glad that Cloud couldn’t see her face. “Sounds lovely,” she said, tone sarcastic.

The gradient of their chosen path steepened until they were climbing more than walking. Tifa watched him carefully, putting her hands and feet in the same places he did, secure in the knowledge that they were tested and safe. As a native of Nibelheim, and especially considering her past, she knew intimately just how treacherous mountain terrain could be.

The last thing either of them needed was an accident to occur.

Things were quiet aside from the scraping of boots on rock. Not even the chirping of birds was audible up here and it was disquieting. She was a little tired, her breathing a bit heavier. From what she could see of Cloud, he looked like he was unaffected and could keep going for hours.

The SOLDIER had planned to go on this mission by himself, but Tifa didn’t like the idea of any of them going off alone, so she immediately volunteered to go with him. He was perfectly capable on his own, though something in her heart quivered and refused to settle until she was by his side. She knew the likelihood of him vanishing for another several years was low, but still…

She had no plans to lose him now that she had him back.

Some areas were steep enough to turn their progress into an almost sheer vertical climb. Tifa admired his athletic form before grumbling under her breath and reaching for the nearest handhold. She was almost to the top when her boot slipped. She gasped, red eyes blowing wide as her hands and fingers suddenly took on the task of supporting her entire body weight. Her boots scrabbled against the sheer rock, desperately searching for a foothold.

“Tifa!”

A hand wearing a glove wrapped around her right wrist. His grip was firm, and a little on the tight side, and he grunted softly as he heaved, lifting her up carefully. She tried to help as best she could, hauling herself up and over the edge the moment she could. Once every part of her body was no longer dangling in danger, she took a moment to catch her breath and looked at Cloud.

His eyes were locked on her, his usually impassive face held a small, worried frown. The Mako glow of his eyes was faint in the daylight, but his gaze was intense enough without it. She saw him looking at her up and down in assessment. Tifa knew Cloud was not checking her out, he was searching for injuries. 

She wasn’t sure if she should feel any disappointment about that.

It certainly didn’t help that Cloud was as dense as a box of rocks about girls and romance. Tifa and Aerith, and even Yuffie, had discussed it more than once. It had been the reason for many girlish giggles between them.

“I’m okay,” she assured him. Tifa let herself close her eyes as she laid there, processing what just happened.

A breath hitched. It wasn’t hers.

Her eyes flew open and she looked over to see Cloud holding his head in pain. Oh no, not again. Her poor friend had these weird episodes that left him tired, drained, and off-kilter. He always went to lay down when they ended, needing to sleep them off. For one to hit now was the worst possible timing.

Tifa scrambled over to him and covered his hands with her own. “Cloud? Cloud, can you hear me?”

His teeth were clenched and his breathing was a bit haggard, a frown etched on his face. He shook his head, sending blond locks swinging, and grunted in pain, giving no indication that he could hear her.

“It’s me, Cloud, it’s Tifa. I’m here, I’m with you, I’ve got you. Let me know if you can hear me, Cloud, come on!”

“No, Tifa!” he said breathlessly.

He slumped forward and the martial artist braced against the weight.

“No, no, no…” he muttered. “Not again. Not again!”

Tifa had no idea what he was talking about but she knew whatever he was experiencing wasn’t good. She did her best to wrap the fingers of her left hand around his, while her right hand sifted down through his hair to cup his cheek. Her thumb gently rubbed over the apple of his cheek and he froze.

“No!” he cried out. Cloud got up and lunged, right arm outstretched, and dove over the edge, sweeping his childhood friend along with him.

She gasped and instinctively clung to him, hoping the landing didn’t hurt too much. Cloud’s arms wrapped around her and he twisted in the air, putting himself beneath her to absorb the damage.

“I won’t let you fall alone again,” he whispered just above her head.

There was a loud THUD and Tifa slammed into Cloud, bouncing back up as far as his grasp would allow, then falling back onto him. His breath was knocked out of his lungs by her weight and he arched his back up slightly as she bounced. They both settled and all that could be heard was shaky breathing from her and shallow breathing from him.

Tifa was curled into his chest, unwilling or unable to move. She could feel his ribs rise and fall and there was a drumming beneath her right ear.

Bathumpbathumpbathumpbathumpbathumpbathumpbathumpbathump-

Cloud’s heart was racing, probably fueled by fear and adrenaline, much like her own. She focused on the sound, strong and steady despite the pace. It was undeniable proof that he was alive and still with her.

“Cloud?” she asked softly. Her red eyes opened and she tilted her head up to look at his face.

He moaned and turned his head fractionally, eyelids fluttering for a moment but staying shut. It took a lot to knock down a SOLDIER, enhanced as they were. She was sure the episode he had just suffered was the main reason he was unconscious. She carefully moved off of him, mindful of injuries, and quickly checked him over.

There was a small bleeding wound on the back of his head, and some inconsequential cuts and scrapes on his arms. His back was going to be a mass of nasty bruises, but nothing seemed broken at least. She turned him on his side and wrangled the massive sword off his back, setting it aside and letting him lay flat again.

She was anxious and fidgety, bitterly wishing she had a potion or Cure materia. It only took seconds before Tifa rested her head on his chest again, on his left pectoral. She couldn’t shake this niggling feeling that he would somehow disappear on her again. His heart had slowed, unlike hers, and she listened to it attentively – the only thing completely reassuring her that he was still with her.

Ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thumpathump……ba-thump…ba-thump…

What was that? Did she need to be concerned? Had her weight on him when they landed done damage she couldn’t see? She bit her lip and brought her left hand up to her face, placing her palm flat on his sternum with splayed fingers.

Tifa could feel the faint impacts of his heart against his ribs and sternum in time with the thumping in her ear. The rhythm was mostly steady with the occasional hiccup. His face didn’t register any pain and his breathing was unaffected, so she eventually decided it was harmless. It might even be normal for him, she simply didn’t know.

Time passed and Tifa found herself lulled into a near doze by the heart thumping steadily, for the most part, in Cloud’s chest. Despite any irregularities, the strength behind each beat was undeniable. No matter what the blond had gone through he had lived through it, life pumping in his body with a fierce strength she couldn’t help but admire.

Ba-thump…ba-thumpathump……ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump..ba-thump..ba-thumpathump...ba-thump..ba-thump..ba-thump…

The rate increased slightly and her eyes opened immediately, finding his face. He was frowning and his blue eyes cracked open. Tifa sucked in a breath and gently patted his sternum. She couldn’t quite bring herself to move away from that oh so reassuring sound just yet.

Cloud groaned, the sound low as it vibrated through his chest. “T’fa?” he mumbled.

“I’m here, Cloud,” she said clearly. The patting turned into rubbing as she tried to give him some warmth and a sensation he could ground himself with.

He tightened his grip on her absently. “You fell,” he stated.

Something clicked in Tifa’s mind. “No, no, no, that was years ago, remember? We were just kids.”

He shook his head. “N-no. Not then. You fell,” he insisted.

Tifa really didn’t want to tell him the truth – that he had jumped and taken her with him. She sincerely doubted that he would take it well. “I’m fine,” she said gently but firmly. “I’m right here, with you, safe and sound. You can see, hear, and feel me, can’t you?”

The blond made a non-committal noise. His grip tightened fractionally and he took a slow, deep breath, blue locked onto red.

The thumping beneath her hand and head slowed slightly as he took in her words and her presence. The rhythm was steady, no more odd skips or stumbles, as he calmed. The tension bled out of her as he relaxed. His impromptu hug became more protective than restraining and the pair didn’t move or speak.

He looked up at the sky and she took the opportunity to scrutinise him. The faintest tinge of pink dusted his cheeks and she smiled, feeling accomplished for no particular reason she could discern.

“Do you have a potion?” Tifa suddenly asked.

Cloud blinked and looked down again. “What? You said you were fine,” he said, his voice holding a tiny sting of betrayal.

She rolled her eyes. “I am fine. The back of your head is bleeding.”

One of his arms moved from around her and his hand ran through his hair. His gloved fingers snagged and he tugged them loose with a tiny wince, bringing them around to take a look. His lips turned down at the ends at the smears and flakes of red on his gloves.

“Oh.”

They went back to laying there in silence, though Cloud’s arm didn’t wrap around her again. It was a bit disappointing, but Tifa was inordinately pleased that he was allowing her to remain on his chest.

The pair returned much later, herbs in hand.

[beatinginavoid]

I’ve written one cardiophile story for a fandom (that I never posted anywhere online).

Now, I write fanfiction. I am not afraid or ashamed to admit that. But I don’t wanna post my cardiophilia fics anywhere in case I get recognised... I’ve never confessed about being a cardiophile to anyone!

No one, and I mean NO ONE outside of tumblr knows about this blog.

So, here's a question:

How badly do you guys wanna see cardiophile fics from whatever fandoms that I have written or will write in the future?

Because if I post any here, then I refuse to post them elsewhere, you understand? I wanna be sure it'll be worth it...

[beatinginavoid]

Heyy, I miss you and your stories so much! Are you gonna bless us with a new one soon?

Hi! Life has been absolutely kicking my butt health wise, but I’m still around. Sadly, writing has been incredibly slow as a result. I’ve still been poking away at working on all of the asks/requests that I have!

If all goes well, I will finish one of them soon.

Thank you so much for checking in! 😊

[beatinginavoid]

some doodles i made last month after reading @beatinginavoid's The Lake.

i had some cardiophilic doodles too, like the creature listening to her submerged heart or... everything that came after that, but, they really weren't that good in retrospect. i'll post them when i'm brave enough i'm afraid

minor warning about dark cardiophilia if you wanna check it out, but other than that, it's really good!

[beatinginavoid]

I've been feeling unwell lately, so writing has been greatly slowed down.

I have two asks from anons that I haven't answered. Don't worry, I'm working on writing them! I'll answer them when I'm done. Didn't want anyone to think I was ignoring them.

Keep beating on! 💜

[beatinginavoid]

The Volcano

Part 4 of 6. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

— — —

Don’t explore the volcano.

The volcano had an interesting and complex cave system formed by magma flows over many, many years. They were said to be beautiful, glistening with crystals of various types. Many spelunkers were drawn to the chance to investigate a whole new cave system that was easily accessible. Others were hunting for profit, wanting to extract the precious stones and minerals.

The area became crowded, people were going missing in the unmapped labyrinth, and safety leapt to the top of the list. Signs, fencing, and other barriers went up in an effort to dissuade people from approaching willy-nilly.

An office was established and exploration expeditions were scheduled, though many ignored the quick and shoddy set up. There were always people that slipped by, only known about when missing reports reached the area.

One newcomer, dressed in vivid, fiery shades of red and orange, was there to explore and to grab some shiny souvenirs. No fence or barrier was going to stop them!

So what happened when they went exploring?

— — —

Chain link barriers? Easy to step over or duck under. Fencing? Easy to cut through. The office and checkpoints were easy to circumvent, even in broad daylight while wearing bright clothing. It’s almost insulting how easy it is to sneak into one of the cave system’s entrances.

There are tiny glints of light speckling the tunnel’s walls, ceiling, and floor. Tiny crystals, or tiny parts of crystals showing – they don’t excite you though. You want ones from deeper in to make the trip truly worthwhile.

Excitement runs through your veins, your heart pushing you onward with every beat.

Sometimes there’s enough room for you to walk, while other times you’re forced to crouch or even crawl, dragging your backpack along with you. Good thing it’s mostly empty.

The magma flows have created interesting textures and patterns and you enjoy running your fingers over them as you progress. The flashlight attached to your helmet makes bursts of rainbows as it flashes around, catching on all of the crystalline surfaces. Every movement forward creates dazzling new displays.

The tunnels were a spelunker’s dream. Despite some tight spots, the way had been easy to traverse for anyone with a modicum of experience. It was fun, it was beautiful. After a good hour or so, you crawl out into a spacious cavern. There are crystals absolutely everywhere, spikes and spires of them forming stalactites and stalagmites all over. Piles and piles of them fill half of the floor space, some of them tickling the ceiling.

This is an absolutely gorgeous treasure trove you giddily giggle with glee over. It’s warm in here, but tolerable. You swing your backpack off and pick out a sizable specimen, stuffing it gently inside. You pick out another, and another. You reach for a fourth when the whole mound trembles, a few from the top tumbling down.

You step back to avoid the sharp edged projectiles.

A rumble resounds throughout the cavern. Is the volcano active? Is this a normal thing?

The whole pile shifted, crystals falling down like rain, and two long, dark, ridged, conical spikes appeared from the summit. You jump back further and gasp, watching as a reptilian head emerges, bright yellow, slitted eyes focusing right on you.

Wisps of smoke waft up from the nostrils and your brain screams dragon!

There is an actual dragon with a treasure hoard living in this volcanic cave system. Judging from that smoke, the stories of fire breathing are true. You don’t want to stick around and find out, so you finally get your legs to work and make a break for the way you had come in.

Something whips out from the side and knocks your feet out from under you. You tumble to the ground and something pulls you back. Fingers attempt to dig in, but the dried, hardened magma has no give to it, and you scream, lungs squeezing and heart pounding.

When you stop, you look around to see a black talon, half a dozen inches long, sunk into the hem of your pants. The dragon is now mostly revealed, and you can see a long, serpentine body, about twelve feet in length, with spikes jutting out from the spine. There were no wings, but the mouthful of fangs was very intimidating.

The dragon steps out of what is left of its crystal mound, and stands directly over you, your frightened gaze meeting its predatory one. It flicks its claw free of your pants and splays its scaly digits over your rib cage, holding you down.

Your heart thumps hard and fast and you begin to pant. The dragon’s skin is far warmer than the air and its heat seeps right through your clothes. With one quick swipe, the dragon rips the clothing off the front of your torso and lightly pins you again. The heat from its scales directly on your skin feels like a severe sunburn, and you gasp.

The beast opens its maw and growls. You can see flickers of flame over its tongue and between the fangs and try to flinch back. Sadly the ground does not yield and swallow you. Will it eat you before you develop blisters?

It moves its foot to pin down one of your arms and breathes onto your sternum, a thin jet of fire leaving its jaws. The heat is nigh unbearable and you scream loudly. When the fire stops, you lay there panting for a moment before you turn to look at the damage.

Your skin is unblemished despite the intense heat and pain. Your chest feels tight, every breath stinging your lungs. All of the organs in your upper torso feel like a piece of bread that just popped up from the toaster; now lightly browned.

You wriggle in a desperate bid to escape, but the dragon uses its other front foot to pin down your other arm. Your heart is beating faster than it ever has before, and you are left gasping and sweating in fright.

It gives a brief roar and breathes fire on your chest again. The heat quickly amps up and you swear you can hear sizzling, though the flames don’t seem to be physically damaging your skin.

Your heart hammers against your ribs, feeling like a burger on a barbecue, and your extremities tingle with warmth as the heated blood is pumped around. Everything starts to hurt as the heat spreads, like intense pins and needles.

The dragon stops the weird cooking ritual and leans in, sniffing your chest. Despite the reptilian face you can clearly see that the beast isn’t exactly pleased. Does it want you medium rare? Well done?

Another sustained burst of flame hits you, and every time your pump contracts there is a sharp ache, like you’ve stuck your heart in a fire. Your blood feels like hot water being poured down your veins and you scream again, fruitlessly writhing beneath the dragon.

It’s cooking your cardiac muscle like a slab of meat and boiling the crimson liquid it pumps around your body. Your skin is still unblemished, but the dragon is roasting you from the inside out.

It is utter agony and you barely have the breath to scream, the heat and your injured heart, desperately sprinting to the best of its ability, are stealing your oxygen. Are there bubbles in your blood? Is your pericardium filling with steam and smoke?

You imagine your lifeblood boiling away to nothing like an unattended pan of water on a stove top. You imagine your heart turning brown and tough, barely able to contract to pump any blood. You wonder which one will happen first.

Dizziness, light-headedness, blurry and fading vision plague you, and you fear what your heart looks like under this assault.

No one knows you’re here. You’ll be just another missing person to add to the statistics.

The dragon stops and sniffs your chest again. It gives a soft, low rumble, resembling a massive, reptilian house cat’s purr. It’s clearly pleased with the progress and you wonder if fangs will sink into you at any moment. But no, it breathes more fire.

Each breath you take is horribly painful, and now you can feel every rushed beat, each pump like pure torture. It feels like lava flowing through you instead of blood. You gasp like a fish out of water, your heart and lungs stealing every molecule of oxygen.

Ba-ow-thump-owba-ow-thump-owba-ow-thump-owba-ow-thump-ow

Your heart is beating and being stabbed at a rapid-fire pace, your lungs feel shrivelled from heat, and your vision is developing black spots as oxygen deprivation sets in. The scent of cooked meat invades your nose and you kick out and writhe in a last ditch, primal attempt to attain freedom.

Choking wheezes leave your throat and the dark spots increase, blacking out over half of your vision. Your lungs aren’t moving at all and your heart is no longer pounding. Each beat feels weaker and weaker, less blood being pumped around by the stiffened, barbecued muscle. You can literally feel your life slipping away.

As the darkness swallows your consciousness, you hope the wretched reptile chokes on your remains. Your heart finally stops as the fire cooks it beyond use. The complete lack of movement in your rib cage is a first, but it is also the very last thing your mind processes as death embraces you.

The dragon’s jaws snap shut, instantly cutting off the jet of fire. Sharp talons rend flesh and muscle. They curl around the top of the sternum and ribs and the dragon snaps off the exposed parts of the rib cage. The unmoving heart and lungs are fully visible. 

A front foot delicately wraps around the heart, dark brown pericardium and all, and gently places it into fanged jaws. Another happy rumble echoes around the crystal filled cavern, and the dragon swallows the cooked organ as if it’s a delicacy. It licks its muzzle.

Don’t explore the volcano.

— — —

I wrote the latter half of this while watching Gordon Ramsey roast people on Kitchen Nightmares. Fitting, don't you think?

I have a couple of anon asks I'll probably get started on, but part 5 may be posted first depending on ease of writing and interest.

🔥🫀

[beatinginavoid]

Wow your mountain series is so creative!! I love the supernatural elements combined with cardiophilia! Amazing!

Thank you!!! I wanted to do something outside of a typical urban setting and I'm a fan of fantasy.

[beatinginavoid]

The Mountain

Part 3 of 6. Part 1, Part 2

— — —

Don’t climb the mountain.

The townsfolk that lived at the foot of the mountain often made new signs and repainted old ones. All of the signs warned about the mountain, told people to beware, or blatantly said to turn around and go back.

There were rumours that the townsfolk were trying to protect Bigfoot or some other sasquatch-like being that lived up there somewhere.

This made the town an odd little hotspot for certain types of tourists, and even some film crews.

The latest traveller to the town, dressed in earthy tones, had also been drawn there to try and catch a glimpse of something legendary. The verbal warnings were brushed off. The signs were seen but ignored. Equipment was packed and ready.

“Nothing will stop me from taking this chance!” they resolutely declared.

So what happened when they climbed the mountain?

— — —

The trail up the mountain was very faint but still visible. It was obvious that at some point in the past it had been a well travelled track, worn into the mountain by innumerable feet. Then the mountain had been declared off limits, for safety reasons you had been told.

Safety reasons. Pfft. You don’t believe it, no matter how many times it was parroted to you.

It was just some local thing. It wasn’t actually illegal or anything, so here you were, trudging your way up on the track that nature had been doing its best to reclaim. Good thing your pants were sturdy, some of these plants had an attitude. You pick off a bit that got overly attached and flick it away.

There was something about hiking along a tough path or up a mountain that gave you this great sense of freedom and accomplishment. The air also seems sweeter in these places. It’s a freedom and sense of life that the big cities could never convey to you.

Leg muscles begin to burn at the steeper ascents, but you keep on. Your breathing is faster, heavier, and your heart picks up its pace, slowly getting more aggressive at banging on its cage bars. You push forward – there’s plenty of mountain left to climb and you haven’t even broken out any equipment yet.

About two-thirds of the way up was a cave. The entrance was something of an arch and didn’t face the sun whatsoever, so the whole thing was dark and covered in shadows. It offers a cool place to rest and you decide to take advantage, sitting down and breaking out a drink and snack.

Once you finish, you carefully wrap up and pack away the rubbish. No sense in spoiling the scenery, even if no one would trek up here and see it. Something echoes from deeper in the cave. Tiny little clicks and clacks of stone and the odd skittering noise of critters.

There are probably bats roosting in this cave that might have been disturbed by your pit stop. Once you leave they will settle back down. You stand up and dust off your clothes.

A low rumble echoes down from the dark depths. A cave-in? More clicks and clacks could be heard in slow intervals. They were getting progressively louder. Did you stumble onto the den of a bear?

You take a step back carefully, not wanting to trigger whatever animal is slowly stalking toward you. The darkness hiding the unknown creeps you out, and the scare factor activates your adrenal glands. The adrenaline floods your system. Your breathing gets faster and more shallow as your heart begins to race. Another careful step.

A loud growl reverberates off the cave walls. One more step back. Two brightly glowing yellow spots appear for a second before they rush at you. Something grasps your ankle and pulls hard, sending you crashing on your back to the ground. Your shirt rides up to your armpits and your back is scraped up as you’re dragged further into the cave.

Gurgles and growls echoed all around, and there is nothing you can do but go along, captive of this unknown beast. You close your eyes, not that it makes a lick of difference, and open them only when you come to a stop.

A faint light shines through your closed eyelids. All you can hear is your shaky breathing, the odd drip of water, your pounding heart thumping in your chest and head. Foetid air washes over your face and you open your eyes to see a creature you’ve only seen as stone statues perched atop churches and other grand buildings.

A gargoyle. A gargoyle?!

You can’t decide if this is better or worse than a sasquatch. You wonder if trying to reach for your camera is even remotely worth it. The grip disappears from your ankle and you instinctively scramble backwards, eager to put space between you and a creature that shouldn’t exist.

A stalagmite halts your escape. The gargoyle creeps forward slowly, and this time you can see it in all of its creepy glory. Two large fangs jutting skyward from its lower lip reach to slanted, predatory eyes. Small, ineffective wings twitch and flutter as a short tail with a whipcord tip lashes behind it.

A clawed hand reaches out, one sharp tip touching the sole of your shoe. Your foot starts to feel stiff and heavy and, to your horror, your whole foot and ankle appears to be stone. It scrapes across the cave floor horribly.

It pokes your other foot and it becomes dead weight as well, slowing you down as you try to get around the stalagmite. The gargoyle grins wickedly and easily catches up to you. It pounces and you flinch violently, throwing your arms up to cover your face. You feel a poke on a finger of each hand. You watch as your hands slowly petrify from your fingernails to your wrists.

Your hands and feet are now worse than shackles, the weight almost pinning you in place. The gargoyle appears in front of you again and slashes at your chest, rending your clothes into shreds and exposing the whole front of your torso. You gasp harshly.

The gargoyle pushes you flat on your back and your breath hitches. You look down, but you still see unmarked flesh, not a fleck of stone emanating from the clawed hand holding you down. The beast grins and gives a disturbing growly laugh.

Its hand moves up and down as your heart beats powerfully in fear. It moves the hand, tracing around the pumping muscle keeping you alive. The skin within the traced area turns hard and grey. You take in a sharp breath and there’s an odd feeling as that part of your chest doesn’t move with the rest.

Another tap of a claw and the stone portion of skin disintegrates, exposing muscles and bones. Your brain is screaming at you to move away however you can, but your body isn’t obeying, frozen in place. The claw traces the edges of the missing skin and the newly exposed part petrifies. Another poke and a good chunk of your sternum, part of your left ribs, and all of the muscles in between are suddenly gone. None of it hurt.

There, in plain view, is the sac that protects your heart, along with the edge of your left lung. Your heart is quickly pulsing and you can’t help but stare in fear and wonder. The tip of a claw pokes through the top of the sac and glides down. Both of its hands then ever so delicately peel away the sac, leaving your racing pump fully visible.

Each beat looks, and feels, very forceful. It squeezes, expands, and contracts as if it is trying to punch out an opponent, swiftly and aggressively dancing within your chest cavity. It’s amazing to think this one muscle is so vital to your life, and now you can see it working hard, completely vulnerable and at the mercy of your captor.

A slate grey hand reaches out, clawed digits delicately curling around your heart. The organ is lifted up, the apex now pointing to the ceiling. Your breathing is fast, shallow, and still shaky, your life literally in the monster’s hands.

Your heart pounds harder, faster, doing its best to work around the grip impairing it. It feels unlike any sensation you’ve ever felt before. You start feeling lightheaded as your pump fights against gravity and the blood wanting to follow it, the ventricles unable to fully fill.

A claw tip gives the apex the lightest touch. The pulsing tip of your heart takes on the now familiar grey and heaviness that means petrification. The apex is as still as stone while the rest of the muscle continues to move rhythmically.

The gargoyle gently places your heart back where it belongs and pokes the stony apex. The petrification spreads. So far it doesn’t seem to be impeding any function, but you know that won’t last. A forked tongue slithers from its maw and licks over the ventricles, atrium, and aorta.

It’s one of the strangest ticklish sensations you’ve ever felt.

The tongue wraps around your aorta and gently squeezes, just enough for you to feel it as the blood rushes by. Another tap, more growing stone, and this time you can feel the result. Your stone hands try and fail to reach up to your chest as it suddenly feels tight, a sharp ache zinging from the pump.

Another tap, more stone. Your ventricles bulge with every cardiac cycle as part of them are completely incapable of moving. The muscle is working harder to push out the blood, but you somehow know that it’s failing at the task.

A gleeful grin precedes another tap, another spike of pain. Almost half of the vulnerable organ is rock solid. Each beat causes the top half to violently flail with every distended thump, though the heavy part keeps it firmly in place.

The pace picks up even more, leaving you gasping for every breath as your heart strains under the load. Another tap makes you whimper, the pain increasing. The atrium and flesh halves of the ventricles balloon out with every fast contraction, straining to the maximum to get the job done.

It feels as if an elephant is sitting on your chest, crushing everything under an enormous weight.

Another tap, then another. You are beyond dizzy, your vision fading in and out of blurriness. Your chest is nothing but a sea of pain, poured into a bottle far too small to hold the volume of liquid. You gasp and wheeze, only one third of your heart functioning.

The part that is still flesh continues to pound erratically for several seconds until it stops, fluttering in place.

Your vision turns black and it feels like your throat has closed, no air getting through. Consciousness fades as your heart quivers in v-fib.

The gargoyle chuckles and petrifies the rest of the shuddering pump, releasing your aorta. It grips the statue that your heart has become, every blood vessel seemingly carved with the utmost care by a true professional, and rips it from your chest.

It carries its prize to a section of the cave where dozens of heart statues are displayed on a carved out shelf. It places the newest statue in line and grins proudly, forked tongue licking its lips.

Don’t climb the mountain. 

— — —

3 parts down, 3 to go. I'm having fun finding various supernatural ways for things to end. I hope any readers out there are having just as much fun reading about it!

[beatinginavoid]

Eyyy another ace cardiophile! Hi! 💜

Hi!!! 💜

[beatinginavoid]

You write well! What do you think of the following idea? A woman goes to her doctor and explains that she always gets such strong heart palpitations and heart flutters during sex or masturbation that she is very afraid. The doctor agrees to carry out an examination with a stethoscope, ECG and, if necessary, a heart ultrasound while the patient is masturbating. Would you like to write the story?

Hello and thanks!

I'm AroAce and I don't even like writing light romance. I'm afraid anything involving sex (and masturbation) is off the table, sorry!

[beatinginavoid]

Would you please write something about someone enjoying making their heart erratic with pressure or breathplay?

Here you go!

Work was done for the day, the house was empty except for her and her cat, Beans McMuffinpaws, and there was no housework that couldn’t wait until tomorrow. Now, with night having fully closed in, it was time to play.

Kate carefully shut her bedroom door so Beans wouldn’t be able to interrupt, leaving her alone in the soft, warm yellow light of her bedside lamp, where she took off her shirt and bra. In one of the drawers beneath the lamp there was a stethoscope with teal tubing. She picked the medical instrument up with a mixture of reverence and anticipation and got comfortable on her bed, allowing herself to sink back into a nest of several pillows.

She placed the earpieces snugly in her ears and lightly pressed the diaphragm onto her chest.

Ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…

The sound of her heart pumping away immediately enveloped her. The closing of the valves was so clear, accompanied by a soft whoosh of blood, and Kate smiled. Her cardiac muscle sounded great at rest, but it was always better when she played with it.

She took a few deep breaths, her heart speeding up and slowing down at the oxygen levels changing. She took one more deep breath and held it.

Ba-thumpba-thumpba-thump..ba-thump..ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump……ba-thump……ba-thump……ba-thump……ba-thump……

Her pump slowed, beating steadily as it worked through the oxygen stored in her body. It was a soothing melody, slow enough to fall asleep to, but she had no plans to doze off yet. Thirty seconds passed and the minute mark crept up. Her lungs began to burn and she shifted in her pillow nest. She let out her breath in an explosive burst and inhaled greedily.

Ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…BA-THUMP..ba-THUMP..ba-THUMP…ba-thump…ba-thumpathump……ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thumpathump……ba-thumpathump……ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thumpathump……ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…

Kate grinned as her heart skipped and stumbled, trying to get back to a normal rhythm after the sudden oxygen rush after the deprivation. The muscle thudded against her ribs and pushed the stethoscope’s diaphragm up with every contraction of her ventricles. Without giving it much time to recover, she took another deep breath and held it.

It slowed again, thudding awkwardly against the stethoscope, the beats slightly more pronounced than last time. Her oxygen seemed to deplete faster than before and she had to gasp for breath. Her heart didn’t like it one bit, fumbling several beats in a row and then tripping over a few more here and there.

The blood filled muscle felt amazing as it moved about unsteadily within her chest.

Time to make things more interesting.

Leaving the soft nest of pillows, Kate grabbed a metallic water bottle from next to her lamp and walked over to her door frame. She placed one end against the sturdy wood and the other just left of her sternum. She walked into it, forcing it to stay between her ribs and the wall. The diaphragm of the stethoscope was settled an inch above the bottle. Her heart was already beating a little faster as if eager for the next event.

She stepped forward a bit and let her weight lean into the bottle. The pressure against her chest pushed into her heart, affecting its work. As one ventricle was compressed, the muscle sped up to compensate for the lower blood volume going in and out.

Kate closed her eyes, pressing herself even closer to the door frame.

Ba-thumpba-thumpba-thumpba-thumpbathumpbathumpbathumpbathumpbathumpbathumpbdmpbdmpbdmpbdmpbdmpbdmpbdmpbdmpbdmpbdmp

Her whole body was bouncing against the water bottle, her pump doing its best to fight against the pressure. The racing and pounding was beautiful.

She pressed even harder and took a deep breath, holding it in. The bouncing was very obvious and her heart seemed confused as it tried to slow while still being crushed. It stuttered for a moment until it seemed to adjust, pounding steadily along. When she let her breath out and sucked in another one, still applying pressure, her cardiac muscle threw a fit.

Ba-thumpba-thumpba-thumpba-thumpba-THUMPATHUMP…ba-thumpathump…ba-thumpathump…ba-thumpba-thumpba-thumpathump…ba-thumpba-thumpathump…ba-thumpba-thumpathump…ba-thumpba-thumpba-thumpba-thumpathump…ba-thumpathump…

Its internal pacemaker misfired beat after beat, leaving the pump to struggle along at its increased pace. Kate’s heart was like a hurdle jumper sprinting away and knocking down many of the hurdles along the way.

She grabbed the water bottle and stepped completely back, letting the overworked muscle recover. Her eyes were still closed as she heard her heart slowly decrease rate from its sustained sprint. The skips and stumbles happened less and less until her heart had fully recovered, thumping steadily inside her.

Best games ever.

— — —

Ta-da?

[beatinginavoid]

I really hope you continue your merman storyline. Your writing is the best I have seen in a long time! 🩺 🫀

Aww thank you! That means a lot to me!

I've been thinking about continuing it, so odds are I'll write more at some point <3

[beatinginavoid]

Anon Ask 2

An athlete or runner with a strong heart? Here you go!

------

The neighbourhood was one Amy was intimately familiar with. She had lived here for all of her twenty-four years and knew every house, every yard, every pavement crack and pothole, and every single shortcut.

She jogged by all of them.

Sometimes Amy wondered if she should get a dog that could join her on her outings. A dog would love to go for a run everyday, right? Maybe even twice a day. It wouldn’t be able to join her on the treadmill though, on those days when the weather persuaded people to stay indoors.

People often told her to slow down, to relax, that life wasn’t a race. Amy did relax, but running was her life. Her body was lithe and toned. Her lung capacity was impressive and she always managed to freak someone out at the pool. She got a lot of compliments on her looks, but if she had to pick a feature of herself she liked the best?

It would be her heart.

Not in a romantic or caring way – she was single and currently not looking for a partner – but because she had trained it, just like her other muscles.

Her heart was a very effective pump, pushing more blood around her body with ease. Her heart was strong and Amy loved it. It thumped against her sternum and ribs, visibly pushing her skin in several places. The best part was when she could listen. Each beat was deep, effortless, and powerful when she sat in her chair. Her resting rate got down to forty easily, and each sonorous ba-thump resonated wonderfully.

Amy was a marathon runner. While marathons were not an everyday deal, she was content to jog around to keep fit. Weather permitting of course. If she stayed inside and used her treadmill instead, Amy indulged in using a stethoscope.

Hearing her heart hard at work was just as pleasing as hearing it at rest.

She glanced at her smart watch. A little heart symbol flashed at her along with the numbers 148. Still in the zone, excellent! Time to loop around and head home.

Amy smiled as her cardiac muscle pounded steadily in her chest; a counter melody to the thudding of her shoes against the ground. Who needed music when nature provided the best soundtracks?

Her heart, trained as it was, had become larger than normal. It was a point of pride for Amy, and she often joked that it meant she had more room for loved ones. Her mind wandered back to getting a dog. There was room for a dog, surely. Dating was not on the cards right now, but a pet was completely different.

When Amy got home she hopped online and looked up all of the nearby pet shelters.

Definitely enough room for a dog.

Ba-thump

------

If you're thinking of getting a pet, please, please consider adopting from a shelter instead of buying from a pet store or breeder. Everybody deserves a second chance and shelter animals have so much love to share with you!

[beatinginavoid]

💤🩺🫀

Who else has almost fallen asleep listening to their own calm heartbeat?