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[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?

[beatinginavoid]

New steth!

It came in the mail today!!!

And yes, of course I tried it immediately! Sounds clearer than my old cheap one.

Gonna be fun to use when I'm working on my stories!

🩺🫀

[beatinginavoid]

DONE! (Antoine = ant-won)

Life could be kind or cruel. Life could change course in the blink of an eye or from a mere whim. Some were dealt a better hand at the beginning, some had bad luck along the way while others were favoured by fortune. Some were dealt losing hands from the get go and struggled along the way.

Antoine was one of those who struggled. Fate had been unkind from the moment he began developing in the womb. He was born with a hole in his heart – a little open pathway between his left and right ventricles known as ventricular septal defect or VSD.

It was a medical condition that could be detected in early infancy and fixed after birth. But Antoine’s mother was single and poor, and medical corners had been cut. The condition went undetected.

Growing up, the boy had always been small, skinny, far from athletic, and often sickly. Any type of exertion made his heart race uncomfortably as his lungs struggled painfully to draw in enough air.

He had been forced to participate in sports in high school when he was sixteen. The teacher had been deaf to any so-called excuses and the result had not been a good one.

Antoine had collapsed, gasping and wheezing, one hand weakly clutching at his chest as his lips and fingernails turned blue. An ambulance was called and the teen had been rushed to the hospital where the necessary tests were finally performed. The VSD was discovered but corrective surgery still could not be afforded. The doctors told him he could live a relatively normal life as long as he didn’t exert himself.

He was at an increased risk for stroke, pulmonary hypertension, heart failure, and arrhythmia. He knew what stroke and heart failure meant. He had a vague idea that arrhythmia meant the heart would beat funny, but he had no idea about the other one. It was okay though, he’d just be careful. Easy.

The sports teacher was given a letter from the hospital and shamefully let Antoine sit out of all future sports activities.

For a while life started dealing Antoine better cards. Well, for most things. He graduated school and was saving up for a place of his own, squirrelling money away from his small desk job. Romance was not a field he had ever experienced any luck in, though he tried not to let it get him down.

He was only twenty-two. There was still plenty of time for opportunities. He would score a nice girl one day.

One warm summer night, Antoine found himself on the wrong end of a pistol.

He had been running late from work, then went out of his usual way home to make a quick stop at a gas station for his mother. She craved a particular flavour of ice cream, so now he was on the hunt for it. Antoine was standing in front of the freezers, eyes scanning for the prize his mother coveted. He tapped his chin and sighed. Even for a relatively small place there were so many things stacked on shelves.

The bell above the door jingled and Antoine absently wondered if that person was on a craving run for their mother too. He heard footsteps and glanced over his shoulder, the muzzle of a pistol aimed between his eyes.

“Get ya hands in the air! Keep ya mouth shut tight an’ don’t try nothin’ stupid, ya hear?” said the masked man holding the gun. His tone was harsh, his voice grating.

Antoine mentally swore and slowly raised his hands, his gaze flicking uneasily between the gun’s barrel and the masked man’s eyes. Adrenalin flooded his system as the fight or flight instinct kicked in, causing his heart to speed up in preparation to move.

Shit, no, bad heart! He tried to subtly take some deep, if shaky, breaths to slow it back down. Sounds of a second armed man echoed down the aisles and sweat began to bead on his forehead and the back of his neck. The cashier must be getting held up right now. The register would be emptied as best that could be managed and, with any luck, no shots would be fired.

His heart thudded against his ribs and sternum, pounding harshly, and he winced slightly as he felt the muscle flutter. It started to skip beats, the pacemaker misfiring, stumbling all over its rhythm.

Ba-thump..ba-thump..ba-thumpathump……ba-thumpathump……ba-thump..ba-thump..bababa-thump..ba-thump..ba-thumpathump…ba-thumpathump…ba-thumpathump…ba-thumpathump..ba-thump..ba-thump..babababa-thump…

His shaky breathing turned to panting and he had to squash the urge to paw at his chest. Not that his hand would be able to do anything, but instinct was hard to fight. His chest began to ache dully, every awkward beat starting to increase the pain.

The panting turned harsher as time ticked on and the gun was lowered a little, the masked head tilted to one side.

“You good, man? I ain't gonna hurt ya if ya just stand there nice and quiet, got it?”

Well, wasn’t that nice? A robber with a soft spot.

“Heart condition,” Antoine got out between pants.

“You serious?”

“Sadly, yes. Don’t suppose…you’d let me…ring 911…ambulance?”

The masked man was silent and Antoine could easily imagine raised eyebrows and an unsure or disbelieving expression.

“You think I’m stupid?” the man eventually said.

“No, but…ambulance…won’t…arrest you. Just call and…leave before they…get here?”

All of the talking was taking a toll on his heaving lungs. They were straining to keep up with the demands of his vulnerable pump. The fluttering, uneven contractions were still going strong and Antoine feared he would not remain standing for long.

“An’ let ya try an’ jump me?” the gut said angrily. “I wasn’t born yesterday! You just stay there an’ keep yer trap shut!”

He fired at a point above Antoine’s head, making the young man flinch, gasp, and groan as his heart kicked up another notch. His legs wobbled like a newborn foal’s and he staggered back and sideways a couple of steps. He wheezed harshly as the pain in his chest grew, a dull ache turning sharper. His gaze went from the pistol and the masked man’s head to the man’s thighs as he bent over in an effort to draw in more air.

“Shit!”

Antoine heard the man swear, somehow, over the pounding, broken rhythm of his weak and imperfect heart in his ears. The awkward fluttering in his ears matched the irregular taps on his chest wall, like a small bird trapped in a little cage, desperately flapping around in a bid to find freedom.

Grey and black spots appeared in his vision, which he noticed was kind of blurry. Gravity clawed at him, pulling him down quicker than he was ready for, and he crashed into the floor face first.

More swearing, footsteps, voices, various noises, and the jingle of the door’s bell.

The pain was enough to steal a good deal of the little breath he could muster. “...help…” he breathed out, one hand reaching weakly for the front of the store.

His heart was still pumping erratically, the floor echoing the reverberations as it thumped away. A pair of shoes entered his narrowed field of vision and Antoine swore he heard a voice.

Bababa-thump..ba-thump..ba-thumpathump…ba-thumpathump…ba-thumpathump…ba-thump..ba-thump..thumpthump…ba-thump..ba-thump..babababa-thump…

His vision went dark and he heard his heart stuttering for a moment or two more before his hearing faded entirely.

“Can you hear me, buddy? You’re in the ambulance, on the way to hospital. You’re in good hands, okay? We’ve got you.”

Would you consider writing some dark cardiophilia about a man with an existing heart condition getting into some peril? Maybe exacerbating it, having a heart attack to compound the damage…. Up to you!

My first ask! :D Hello anon and sure! I'll give it a try

[beatinginavoid]

The heart is a personal thing.

No two hearts ever beat the same. The movements and sounds are just as unique to a person as their eyes and fingerprints.

Anyone can say "I love you."

Anyone can be physically intimate.

But only when you truly offer them your heart, to let them hear the true voice of your body and soul, can you say "They know me. They love me, inside and out."

After all, it's the contents of a package and not the pretty wrapping that one should appreciate.

❤️

[beatinginavoid]

The Lake

Part 2 of 6. Part 1

-------

Stay away from the lake.

It was the main rule of the isolated town near a large lake. Parents warned their children, pets were never let loose, no fishing gear was made or kept, and anyone that visited the out of the way town was pulled aside and warned by just about everyone they saw.

The lake itself was quite a sight. Its water was a lovely clear and light blue, with soft white sand at the edges, like the cleanest of beaches. Various species of fish could be seen swimming around. Waterfowl, ducks, and swans all called the place home, and it was the main water source for all of the local wildlife.

Someone dressed in blue had come to the town to research the lake. They heard all of the warnings and waved them away.

“It’ll be fine!” they insisted. “I’m just here for research. I’m a smart person, I can take care of myself.”

So what happened when they went to the lake?

— — —

You observe the landscape from atop a hill. The lake was just as pretty as you had heard. It was like a slice of paradise – a glimpse of heaven on Earth.

How could no one from the town not want to fish here? Flashes of silver scales were visible through the wonderfully clear water. What a rich and abundant food source simply going to waste!

Still, you were here to research the lake, not the townsfolk. You walk down the hill until your feet begin to sink in the finest, whitest sand you have ever encountered. You crouch down and run your fingers through the sand. It was warm and almost velvety, giving no resistance against your skin.

Walking down to the water’s edge, you pull your satchel off your shoulder and set it down. From inside it you extract a glass phial and dip it into the water. You look at it, seeing no debris or impurities, and carefully cap it, wrap it up and pack it away. A second glass phial full of sand joins the first.

You grab a third and look up, wondering about a plant sample. Two large black eyes, an alien feature set in an otherwise human face, stare at you unnervingly. Fin like structures take the place of ears, and the hair resembles seaweed so closely you doubt you could tell them apart.

Their skin was a very pale blue, like a frozen corpse, and they raise a webbed hand out of the water. Every finger is tipped with a shiny black claw that looks sharp enough to shear flesh with the lightest pressure. The fingers bend, beckoning you closer.

The third phial slips from your now slack grip and you blink dumbly. You refuse to move, resisting whatever unnatural charm they possess. Too many tales of humanoid seafolk luring people to their death made you wary enough to stay firmly where you are.

The creature tilts their head before giving you an odd little wave and swimming backwards, seemingly giving you some extra space.

That was oddly nice. Was it a trap?

Neither of you move and you begin to sweat. Your breathing picks up and your heart speeds up in tandem. Things now felt more like a standoff.

Time ticks on and the atmosphere feels more and more tense. The creature has yet to budge, aside from the occasional flick of an ear fin. Those big dark eyes never blink and it sends a shiver down your spine.

Your breathing is now panting. You put a hand on your chest to try and soothe your racing heart, but you can’t feel the muscle pump against your ribs and hand. You frown, glance down at your chest in confusion, then look back at the water-dwelling being.

It lifts its head out of the water and smiles without showing any teeth. Both of its hands become visible in the air, twisting around in strange motions. Water from the lake funnels into the air and forms into a rough sphere. It is supported by one hand while the other is fisted and inserted into the sphere. The fist is opened and closed a bit in a constant rhythmic manner.

Imitating a heartbeat.

Oh.

OH.

This creature had somehow managed to encircle your heart with water? It was essentially drowning your precious organ? Could a heart even drown? Your eyes widen and you clutch at your chest, a look of panic on your face.

The creature grins, showing off a top and bottom row full of needle sharp teeth. It gives you a warbling, gurgle hiss.

The damn thing is laughing at you.

Your chest is starting to hurt. It’s also starting to feel heavy and you take a deep breath. Your lungs don’t expand as much as they should. If there really is a bunch of water in your chest cavity, then it’s stealing space away from your lungs. The panting is beginning to make creepy sense, but you can’t stop yourself from panting harder, trying to draw in as much oxygen as you can.

You have no idea if any of that life-giving air is making it to your submerged pump. It must be, if only from the fact that you’re still alive. Legs still frozen in place, the sand becomes much less inviting to be upon as the creature lazily swims towards you.

Its body breaches the water at the shore, exposing a long, fish-like tail covered in scales of shimmering blue and green hues. A mermaid? It stalks forward with both arms, dragging its glistening body toward you.

Your already speeding heart begins to beat harder, but you barely feel the pounding, an odd muffling in effect. Breathing becomes more of a chore, your chest feeling tighter and heavier. Your fingers curl, clawing, into your blue shirt.

Ear fins flick again and the creature lays down on their back. Another water sphere is created and the fist simulating the heart is placed inside once more. The quickly beating fist is swung side to side inside the sphere, dancing in the liquid with every contraction.

Your palm presses flat, hoping to feel your pumping muscle push against it in defiance of what the creature was showing you.

Nothing.

The being grins again, flipping over and resuming their crawl. They reach you in seconds. With another eerie laugh it pulls your hand off your chest and presses an ear fin to it in the hand’s place. Its eyes fall halfway shut and the manic grin becomes a content smile. Whatever it can hear of your heart that is currently drowning clearly makes it happy. An odd trill leaves its throat and it pulls away, still clutching your forearm.

Your breath hitches, a sharp ache shooting through your chest, as the creature pulls you along on its retreat. Back, back to the water it goes, hauling along your unresisting body for the ride. It trills again as it reaches the water, excitement written all over its face.

Oh no. It wasn’t enough to try and drown your ticker, now the creature was just going to drown you outright!

The being knocks you over backwards and transfers its grip from your forearm to your ankle. A few more seconds of air will be granted to you this way. As you lay on your back, it feels as though an elephant is standing on your sternum and rib cage. Your panting breaths turn wheezy and gasping, wondering if this is how a fish out of water feels. You can vaguely feel faint beats of your heart now, accompanied by a swishing noise like listening to your pulse in a seashell.

It isn’t right. None of this feels right.

You’ve been tugged into the water up to your neck. You panic further and take the biggest, deepest breath your compressed lungs can manage – which isn’t much. Then you’re under and swiftly hauled to deeper water. The creature stops abruptly and comes up against you, ear fin over your heart again, while their big black eyes are focused on your face.

Water carries vibrations, you know this, and you can now hear your distressed pump thumping away directly in your ears. The beats are weak, sloppy, wonky, fast, and irregular. There are skips, missed beats, and awkward pauses as your heart flails about in its watery cocoon. The pressure of the water, the pain and heaviness you feel, is stopping the powerful muscle from moving as it should. The water is crushing the muscular walls of the organ, the uneven rhythm speeding up even more as it opts for sheer quantity of beats to make up for the quality. 

Not that your heart’s efforts will have any real impact as the oxygen stored in your lungs is steadily depleting. You twitch and spasm involuntarily, every cell in your body screaming for air. The creature remains glued to you, gently gnashing its fangs in time with your heart’s beleaguered beats.

Then the air is gone. You try to thrash around in a last ditch attempt to break free, but the odd sort of hug it has you in is paralysing. Bubbles burst from your mouth and nose as your chest constricts.

Still racing and irregular, your thumping organ stutters and pounds greatly, screaming for relief you knew was not coming. The creature chitters eagerly. Your heart rate decelerates, normal beats becoming rarer, and the number of pauses increases. The length of the pauses becomes greater and greater as your heart slows down.

Ba-thumpthumpthump…………thumpthump…………ba-thumpthumpthumpthumpthump…………………ba-thumpathump………………………thumpthumpthump……………………

Your body jerks fitfully, using up the very last of all stored resources. You suck in a breath, drawing water into your crushed lungs, and cough weakly in an automatic response which only serves to drown you further. Your eyes slide closed and your coughing ceases in moments.

Each slow beat resounds in your ears and mind. The pauses grow longer. Your heart stops pumping, a pause that hasn’t ended. Darkness engulfs you, body and mind, as the water becomes your grave.

The creature slices through your flesh with those wicked claws, starting at the base of the sternum and following the outline of the left side of your rib cage. A webbed hand and forearm plunges into the large incision and wriggles about. With a swift yank, the limb is retracted and your lifeless body is cast aside.

Red swirls mix into the water from the bloody mess it holds. The heart looks forlorn, still and detached, under its hungry gaze. The creature takes a bite. A set of needle sharp fangs make quick work of the cardiac muscle, red swirling about as the blood is released from the chambers.

It trills and laughs after it swallows the last bite.

Stay away from the lake.

-– — —

I knew about cardiac tamponade before this, but I made sure to do my research for the symptoms. The heart literally swings inside the fluid-filled sac and all of its sounds are muffled.

I didn't want the water being to simply drown the victim. Too cliche lol

🫀💧🫁

[beatinginavoid]

Hello your stories are amazing wanted to know if you’d ever be ok with writing one about someone like an athlete or a runner with a strong heart

Hello anon and thanks!

Sure, I'll add it to my list!

[beatinginavoid]