Tamayo Demon Slayer Fanart Novels & Stories

The icy blast would’ve made anyone else recoil, but Dante stood there, solid and unmoving, like he was made of stone. His back was a canvas of ink, just like his front. The artwork was nothing short of breathtaking. Spanning across his entire back was a massive, detailed tattoo—an angel, powerful and divine, standing within the ruins of an ancient temple. The wings spread wide across his shoulder blades, reaching toward his arms, while crumbling pillars surrounded the figure in dramatic grayscale contrast. It wasn’t just a tattoo; it was a story, a testament, a work of devotion etched forever into his flesh. It was absolutely beautiful—mesmerizing, even.

“Miss, we seem to have met somewhere before. May I have the honor of buying you a meal?” “No, thank you.” Rowena rejected him. Anyone could see what Tamayo was thinking. A wide grin was still plastered on his face. “Miss, my brother’s the vice-captain of Admiralporium, and I’m an inner energy fighter. Why don’t you say yes?” Yuri was angry. “Tamayo Stone, are you f*cking blind? Can’t you see she’s with my bro?” Tamayo glanced at Kayson threateningly. “Are you going to scram or not?”

“Miss, we seem to have met somewhere before. May I have the honor of buying you a meal?” “No, thank you.” Rowena rejected him. Anyone could see what Tamayo was thinking. A wide grin was still plastered on his face. “Miss, my brother’s the vice-captain of Admiralporium, and I’m an inner energy fighter. Why don’t you say yes?” Yuri was angry. “Tamayo Stone, are you f*cking blind? Can’t you see she’s with my bro?” Tamayo glanced at Kayson threateningly. “Are you going to scram or not?”

“Demon flame art: Purga!” All of the demons in the cube erupted in the same green flame. They withered away, but more too their place. “Fine then.”, she said, as a dagger appeared in her hand. She raised it up and mad e a single stroke down. “Antaroq Eznon Dymor!”

It was quite an awkward moment for me I was unsure at first what the appearance of this new vampire would mean for me. Will his presence mean my doom? Because with the way he was looking at me I don't think he is thrilled to see me. On closer look I discovered he is the same man in the painting alongside Damian and his late wife Selena. Selena's brother and Damian's closest friend! I have forgotten what the butler Alfred had said his name was again. Ti..Timothy? “Tristan. You are back?" Damian said calmly but there was an underneath excitement to his tone.

Rayline. Taylor looked surprised and nervous. It looked like I might not like his answer. "Taylor," I started again, "I'm not going to run away from Cole, and I'm not going to run away from you either." I knew Taylor was a good person, he seemed genuine and not evil, whatever he was, he was obviously very nice to me, so I thought there was no way he could be that bad. "I'm a demon." That's when he finally said it, answering in one breath.

The fear on their faces couldn't be mistaken. "You know how long it took us to get these goods from the Chinese, you know me and you choose to dare me" The evil aura is sensed in the room. Everyone shook with fear because they know that one way or the other, they will be affected. One way or the other, Leslie is going to die. "I'm sorry boss. They overpowered us." "Who hijacked it" "Samantos" The sparkle in his eyes was replaced with fire. His gray eyes changed to black. His smile no longer reaches his eyes. Evil smile.

It had baffled when he was just a mere mortal, but it floored him now as a demon. Her stubborn will to be both defiantly strong and soft in his hands had caused the sadistic side of Young to rear its head in Blood, pushing for an opportunity to turn her to clay. It never made any sense how she embodied love and light at all times, even when the harsh parts of herself were shown. The demon side of Young couldn’t help but want, damn near need, to crush that light out of her. In the same token, her display of blind trust in him was a gift he never wanted to take for granted so he was torn, now more than ever.

That night, Henry finally let go of all restraint. The room lay in shadow, and he pressed me against the floor-to-ceiling window, the lights of Riverton flickering like stars beyond the glass. “Claire…” “Yes?” “I want to get another tattoo.” “Where?” He gripped my hand and pressed it to his lower back, mirroring the spot that corresponded to mine. There, with each of his breaths, a faint outline of a feral totem emerged. “I want to tattoo your image. I want to carve you into my bones forever.”

I tried to breathe but the bastard had its entire weight on my body, crushing my ribs and digging its claws into my arm. Snarling, I placed the palm of my hand on the ground. The runes on my arm burned red as the earth began to rumble. I turned to the demon and smiled as chains erupted from the ground. They shot through the monster's flesh, severing through its body fat and slicing off one of its breasts. I closed my eyes as a rain of flesh and vile blood rained down on me. I was going to need another fucking bath. I rolled onto my feet, my breath ragged as I scanned for the last monster. “Thrakos," I called as more chains curled out of my runes. "What the fuck are these–"