Tanjiro Fox Mask Novels & Stories

He comes beyond that term. "You are new in this field, right?" Dylan asked the man standing beside him. They are both wearing mask, Tricorno Tarocchi (A joker-like mask with large head piece and with bells on) for him, and Volto Macrame Maschille Gold for his new subordinate. "I'll tell you how we operate our business." They looked at each other. "Our products need a high investment 'ya know. So all we have to do is approach those men with golden spoons in their mouth. Be friendly of course, show them the product and start the deal. Very simple right?"

Sijjin is his driver’s name. “No sir,” Sijjin replied. “Sir, if you don’t mind, I have a mask, it’s just... it’s just it has a cat sketched on it and it is pink,” Olivia said in an apologetic voice... “Yea, okay. Give me the mask,” Max said. He doesn’t care if it was pink or black. Especially when it’s from Olivia.

Dangerous and knowing. I ran my fingers over the ivory base, cool and smooth like porcelain. Silver filigree swirled across the forehead and cheekbones, intricate and deceptively delicate. But it was the fur that made the decision for me. One side of the mask was orange-tipped fox fur, the other stark white kitten fur—a contrast as striking as night and day. I lifted it to my face, the weight of it settling against my skin as if it had always belonged there. Through the eye slits, I met Lachlan’s gaze. I smiled.

"You'd better hope so." He just ignored me and said, "What else makes you look… girly?" "My boobs," I said bluntly. He grinned. "Exactly." "Don't you even think—" "Calm down! I'm not cutting them off!" "Good, because I'd kill you." "We'll just tie them up," he said, throwing a white cloth at me. I glared at him. "We?" He turned around in a flash. "Fine. You tie them up." "Better," I snarled, tying them up securely. I tied them up and then looked at myself in his broken mirror. My chest was smooth, my hair short, and his tattered shirt had me smelling of him—smoke and herbs.

I snap back, just as the door swings fully open. The man in front steps inside, holding a cattle prod, its metal tip gleaming ominously. He moves just enough to allow another man to enter, who silently sets a jug of water down on the rickety table before turning to leave. “Wait!” I shout, my voice sharp and urgent. The men pause, glancing back. “We will negotiate. What do you want?” I ask, trying to keep my tone calm despite the tension in the air. The man at the front turns his masked face toward me. His expression is hidden, but his posture radiates control. “We want nothing,” he says, his voice distorted, processed through some kind of modulator. It’s deliberate—a calculated move to ensur

Roxanne already made up her mind not to cross her feisty boss. Freddy led her to an empty chair in front of a mirror and began to work his magic. He arranged her hair properly and gave her smoky eyeshadow and red lipstick. Roxanne couldn't recognize herself when he was done. She thought she looked like one of those foxy models that posed for magazines. "That's the wardrobe, baby girl. Pick whatever suits you. Oh and here's your mask." Freddy handed her a pink mask. Roxanne wanted ask why she needed a mask if she had makeup on but Freddy was whisked away by another female that had just arrived.

Tom asked as he took his time accesing the figure in front of him. The figure wore a head mask that has a stony beard-like something protruding from it. Looks pretty much like the stanched beard of a goat. His hooded mask was very colorful, has streaks of yellow, blue and red striped side to side. The mask somehow made him look very handsome and approachable yet exuding mighty authority and power. He looked down to access his bare skin, they were olive and very smooth. Looked like royalty or someone born and bred in the palace. Wow. He looked so Egypt and have their faces too, only too smooth.

Masaru’s distinctive voice roared, coming from the sky. We tilted our heads up and were stunned to see a pair of demonic figures in the sky, standing atop a small cloud. “We finally caught you, rat.” The gray-skinned one was Masaru, recognizing that gravel-gargling voice. He had a fierce face, sharp fangs, electrifying hair, and two horns. He wore a tattered dark-green skirt tied with a long red sash with a pair of massive Japanese drums hung on his waist and held a small mace in each hand.

The charity event requires masks, and when Brixton pulls out his, it's an intricate black metal design resembling half of a wolf’s face, as if the other half has been torn off, with teeth bared that look as sharp as I imagine they are when he shifts… if he shifts. “Are you sure that mask is appropriate for your species?” I ask, unable to hold my tongue or my curiosity about if he really is a wolf shifter. Not that I’m experienced in knowing other species well, or even wolves for that matter, but he doesn’t seem to follow the same hierarchy as everyone else around the Stones. He produces my mask, made of brown lace that leaves only my lips uncovered with wolf-shaped ears standing at attention

They were about to leave the classroom when the door open, and Misao Aika had the presence of mind to shut it after her, which would necessitate her sex partners doing the same. Misao Aika only caught a glimpse of a muscled male body wearing a simple black kimono that hung open with no belt revealing his large, rampant erection. But it was his head she noticed in the split second before they collided, for he was wearing a Japanese demon mask. Teacher Tadeo allowed the man to pass as if he knew who the person wearing the mask. Misao Aika was baffled. That was the case for Takahashi Sato as well. “Are you going to play with me too, good sir?” Misao Aika asked. She was doing this to make sure t