Sound Breathing Demon Slayer Novels & Stories

**Carol! A sudden slap brings her back to her senses. She coughs, releasing a good amount of water out of her throat. She trembles violently, feeling cold. But her lips part away with a gasp, realizing she can breathe. Her hands reach her throat—it’s burning, but she’s not breathless. Her shaky eyes find Damien hovering over her. His face is blurry but familiar. She touches his face, caressing the cold skin. It’s him. This blurry face belongs to Damien.

Daxton chirps. I do not, in fact, have this. The whistle blows, and I start walking—carefully, deliberately, like I’m defusing a bomb instead of carrying an egg. My steps are too short, too stiff. I’m overcorrecting everything, and I can feel myself spiraling. “Breathe,” Dante says quietly from behind me. “I am breathing.” “You’re holding your breath.” “I am not—” And then I realize he’s right. I exhale shakily and immediately the spoon steadies.

Silas, at this point, had started to hyperventilate. “Silas, my love, slow your breathing.” Karla told him, holding his face in her hands, making him look at her. Storm quickly went to Silas’ side and rubbed his back. “Silas follow me,” she said, “breath in with me.” And she took a deep breath in. “Good,” Blaze said, “now breath out with her slowly.” He instructed. “Good.” Blaze said again. “Do it again.” He encouraged his little brother.

Those contractions transmitted to his ears like a low-frequency vibration. Her breathing became increasingly rapid, with shorter intervals between each breath. Air flowed in and out of her nostrils and lips simultaneously, creating a rhythmic “ha—ha—ha—” sound. With each “ha,” a stream of hot air was expelled onto her chest, causing a strand of hair at the edge of her silk shirt collar to flutter.

I staggered back, clutching my chest, vision flashing violet at the edges. Mother gasped. “Ivy…Calm down, stop and breathe.” But my breath came jagged, raw. The walls seemed to bend inward, the floor trembled under my feet. Something inside me clawed, desperate to rip free. And then, like a rope thrown to a drowning soul, Damon’s sigil lit up in my mind. That spiral curve, that deliberate breath, the grounding mark he pressed into my skin. I traced it into my palm with shaking fingers, inhaled once, twice, like he had taught me.

My claws gouged deep trenches in the stone as I launched myself into the air. I slammed into him with enough force to send us both skidding across the floor. But he only laughed. “You are fire with no air,” he rasped, crushing his palm against my throat. “Burning yourself into smoke.” He lifted me by the neck like I weighed nothing. My paws thrashed. My claws lashed. My lungs burned. He squeezed. My airway closed. My vision faded. “Lucas…” I choked. The Demon King leaned close, his breath cold smoke against my muzzle. “He cannot hear you. He is already halfway into my realm.”

My limbs were lead weights, unresponsive, disconnected from my brain's desperate commands. I could taste blood, it filled my mouth every time I tried to breathe. My chest burned, each inhale shallow, ragged. The air wouldn't come properly anymore. My lungs felt like they were full of something thick and wet, drowning from the inside. Every breath was a fight I wasn't sure I could win. Lucas's hands were on me, pressing down hard enough that I should've felt pain, but instead there was just pressure.. His voice trembled as he spoke, words tumbling out in a panicked rush. "Stay with me, Damon! You're fine… you're gonna be fine!"

The crescent at my throat warmed, a faint sensation more like a sigh than a flare. I focused on my own breathing. In. Out. Slow. Steady. His frame was tight under my palm, muscles bunched as if ready to run or bolt or fold in. “Match me,” I said quietly. “If you can. You don’t have to make your lungs bigger than they are. Just…follow.” I breathed. Again. Again. After a few rounds, I felt it. A tiny stutter. Then, his breaths started to hitch toward mine.

"Feel this? You're breathing. You're okay. Now follow my rhythm." I inhaled deeply again. "In... two... three..." I exhaled slowly. "...and out... two... three..." She began to mimic me, shaky at first, then steadier. Her breaths evened out little by little. "That's my girl," I whispered, brushing a tear from her cheek. "You're doing so well." Gradually, the color returned to her face. The trembling in her hands slowed. Her breathing became smoother, softer, controlled. Damian exhaled heavily beside me, running a hand over his face. For a moment, he just stared at his daughter, then at me. His usual steel composure had melted into something raw.

Soothe him as if the Reaver had calmed Brandons scathing emotions before. Increasing the weight or his hand on Brandons chest slightly as he leaned closer, speaking in a tone that seemed to make Brandon narrow his attention on his voice. "Now listen to me for once..... And breathe....nice and slow. In and out. Just take it slow. Feel the strength in your body flowing away from you...fell the weight of my touch holding you in place, keeping you grounded...Push aside the panic. Give it away...give it all away for me...and just breathe...." ***