Demon Slayer Moon Breathing Novels & Stories

She set her priorities and rested, in order to escape the valley she had to be at her peak form every time she decided to move. . . . A week passed, as a young lady coated with bloody Aura walked cautiously in the valley. Sometimes she would jump in some cave and come out covered in blood, sometimes rank 2 magical beasts would attack her to be devoured by a huge black shadow. 'The density of "Breath" is increasing so much that if I release my companion for only a few attacks I can refill the "Breath" expended immediately. Since the companion was mostly wandering in her chest area, it has a very sexy look whenever she reverted to human form as it was right on top of her bust.

When his hand came around the tree trunk and clamped down on her shoulder, she screeched and then they both erupted in a fit of laughter. “Zans! You found me, vile creature!” she shouted as they both collapsed on the forest floor. “Of course I did,” Gavin replied, once he caught his breath. “You were breathing like a war horse!” “I was not!” she shot back, but he was probably right. Her lungs were still burning from the run. Again, as she thought of burning lungs and inhuman breath, her mind went to the Dragon Moon, and Nya stopped laughing all together, her face going serious.

I can’t breathe. ##########

She’s struggling to breathe; every inhale and exhale became a taxing habit. Alora could only stare at the angry eyes that stare right back at her. She’s having blurred vision as her breathing got shallow and difficult. “You… you’ve always been a thorn to my throat. You’re a walking problem.” He said and squeezed her throat tighter. Alora’s shaking: in fear, in knowing that no one would come to rescue her. She tried to speak, to snap back, but the air restriction from her throat made it impossible to be. For some reason, she looked up at the moon, hoping for a miracle. But it seemed like the moon goddess is deaf to her prayers.

The images cling to the corners of my vision refusing to fade. The air feels thick, pressing down on me, choking me as if it wasn’t quite real, hands trembling uncontrollably. “Breathe Tish, inhale, hold exhale.” I hear Kim’s gentle voice guiding me. My breaths come shallow, jagged at first, like I am learning to breathe again slowly. I loosen my grip on the mattress, willing my pulse to slow down. Eyes closed, I breathe in the faint scent of rain filtering through the small cracked window, mixing with the stale air of the room. “Breathe in and out.”

He said softly but she was already going into a panic attack as her breathing laboured and she had to force her lungs to take in much needed oxygen. Damon took a step back, hoping she would calm down but she only rubbed her chest with her palm in order to ease herself but nothing helped. "Breath Riley." Damon said as cupped the side of her face but it wasn't working as slowly she went into darkness; her forever companion. She groaned and stirred in her sleep as she slowly opened her eyes and blinked several times to adjust her sight.

At least, it’ll help against having to walk through the pillars and wall edges when using the window. I stand in front of the window, right where the moon casts its glistening light, and spread my hands wide, letting it hang freely in the air on both sides then take a deep inhale. My chest heaves due to the impact of my inhalation. I close my eyes, maintaining the wide smile on my face then I let out an exhale out my mouth. It’s a beautiful full moon and there’s nothing a psych doctor loves more than the dark. The only thing missing is blood. Human blood.

The moon is a tiny yellow smudge on the horizon. A wave of exhaustion hits me, and I press my back against the wall and slide until I'm sitting on my butt. I take practiced gasps, trying to train my lungs to breathe around the wound. Each breath is torture; I feel like I'm inhaling balls of coal. I scan the darkness, although there's no need to. I heard the footsteps a while ago. “I can see you, Vayrek. Come out here, you fat slimy worm,” I say, sighing.

I let out a rough cough, bringing up a bit of blood. Closing my eyes and gently resting my neck on the back of the chair, I breathe out. “Moon goddess, if you can hear me, please allow me enough time to help them in their fight.”

My hand cups the back of her skull, forcing her to stay pressed to me. “Breathe, little moon,” I rasp against her ear, voice rough but steady. “Breathe. I have you.” She tries. A broken inhale, another whimper, her body slowly softening, yielding even while it shakes. Only when the tears slow do I move. Slow, deep strokes at first, dragging out, slamming back in, each one punching a new sob from her lungs. Her nails rake my back, not urging, just clinging for life. Snowflakes catch on her lashes; moonlight turns the tears on her cheeks to diamonds.