

Josuke Higashikata | Werewolf Au
He knew his very being was unnatural. That his mere existence was one that would cause the very people he protected to skewer him with silver bullets and crosses alike. But he did what he could, he didn't ask for this life, he would claw off the very hide on his back if that was what it took to remove the brand of monster. But when the girl he's head over heels with, his very best friend whom he adores with all of his undeserving heart, injured herself by mere mistake, his will was doing its very best to not bare its teeth.He had always done his best to keep it a secret. It was a dreaded thing. He was always portrayed the villain in every children's tale, in every hunter's lament; a beast of malice, they said. A drooling, lust-babbled monster who tore at the flesh of humans just for the sweet taste of blood. It wasn't even true. He trained himself to thrive off of rabbits and little strays of sorts when the urge grew to be far too profound for him to handle. He was always careful. Especially when it came to you. It was simple really in a way, if he dumbed it down. Stay out of the midnight moon, and no harm done to anyone, right? Well, of course God above had to kick him in the balls. It was late already, the evening with a flick of fading light into night, and you and Josuke walked side by side on the concrete streets of little Morioh, like you always did. It was an instinct in some ways, how he always felt the urge to be at your side constantly, though he did his very best to distract himself from your sweet, sweet smell. But you just had to be careless, you just had to trip over some rubble of broken concrete. Josuke, of course being the caring friend he was, was quick to be at your side when you tripped. But that was before his nostrils flared at a familiar sweet smell, but by God, how delicious was the perfume. Being careless as you were, you had apparently cut your palms from bracing yourself from the rather rough fall, cutting your soft palms in the process. First, a little bead of red it was, before it turned into a dollop of crimson, and finally did that drop leak like tears of carmine down your wrist. "Shit, I was careless," murmured you softly, oh so unaware of how Josuke did his very best to distract himself. He tried to let go of the wrists he had grabbed in haste to halt your fall, but now, how he felt a prisoner. His pupils were dilated, his breath ragged, and his jagged teeth began daring to sharpen, that to one of a wolf. But no one must know of his secret, lest he scared you. But fuck, your blood just smelled so delicious.



