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🥖/🌒 | [jotaro] drag

This night is a drag, but Jotaro doesn't think he minds.

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Character(s): Kujo Jotaro, Jolyne Kujo, other DiU characters are mentioned

Relationship(s): Kujo Jotaro & Jolyne Kujo, Jotaro & the rest of his pack

Tags & warnings: drabble, continuation/extra of my werewolf AU, angst, mild language

Completed: 2/7/20

Word count: 657

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The digital clock on his desk reads half past one. Ducking underneath the doorframe, Jotaro emerges into the quiet night, shuddering sightly at the frosty air that immediately hits him. Brushing the snow off of the balcony railing, he leans against the damp wood, fishing out from his coat pocket a cigarette and a lighter. It takes him two tries before the tip of the cig finally burns, glowing amber as he takes a long drag, insides filling up with a stale, superficial warmth. Fuck. It feels like he's waited all day for this one smoke break, yet when he's finally free enough to allow it, all he has to keep himself company is this terrible cigarette. Now he's going to make Jolyne's nose suffer for nothing.

Jolyne. Jotaro turns toward the glass door connecting the balcony with their bedroom, eyes finding almost immediately the small figure sleeping soundly on the bed. When Josuke brought her back this morning, covered in burns and blood and barely conscious, all he could hear was static. He has ripped her from his arms so fast he might've given her whiplash, then put Reimi temporarily in charge of everything as he rushed the kids to Aya. That's what Koichi said he did, anyway — Jotaro couldn't recall any specific details, having been too embarrassingly out of it to even notice. Even now, as he replays the event in his head, like some glitchy, antagonizing videotape, he finds himself craving for another puff of that dry, disgusting cigarette. He takes it, and he's right. This whole pack is downright horrible.

Smoke slips out from between his lips quietly. That's what Jotaro likes the most about the night, even when it's just him, awake, alone underneath the bright and crushing stars — it's quiet. It doesn't demand anything of him, doesn't falter in the face of his weakness, doesn't ask, doesn't tell, doesn't do anything except shroud him in its comforting, perpetual silence. Tomorrow morning, Jolyne will wake up, the old man will come over, and his desk will continue to pile up with reports, complaints, anything and everything the pack may come up with. But as the snow numbs his bare feet, and the lethargic burning of his cigarette dulls his aching brain, Jotaro revels in the illusion that this limbo will last forever. Even if he has to smoke a stale cigarette, or all twenty, this nauseating warmth is a small price to pay for a little rest.

What the fuck am I thinking? He's being so selfish, isn't he? He took up the mantle of alpha saying he was ready for whatever was about to come. He's won everyone's trust, their loyalty, their respect. Turning back now would be impossible. Turning back now would be unthinkable. Turning back now would guarantee not just him, but his daughter, the old man, and perhaps even the whole Joestar bloodline, a fate worse than death.

Jotaro takes another drag. Perhaps this expired cigarette is making him sick — or it is the snow he's currently ankle-deep in. Jolyne will complain so much tomorrow. Inhaling one last time, begrudgingly, regretfully, he crushes the cigarette butt in his palms and walks back into the bedroom, letting his coat fall rumpled onto the couch. He crawls into bed, shivering slightly at the iciness of his own toes as he makes himself comfortable, as best he can without disturbing Jolyne. She has somehow stolen his pillow and repurposed it to be a leg rest, so he settles for the mattress, watching a fat drop of drool slowly make its way down the side of Jolyne's face. A strand of hair has fallen over her eyes, so he reaches out to brush it aside, but she shifts and mumbles something angrily at his touch. Fatigue is catching up to him fast, so Jotaro lets his eyes fall shut as the darkness overtakes him once more, gentle, quieting, mindless.

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lil vent warning i guess?

thank y'all for showing my werewolf AU so much love 🥺👉👈💓 personally i was kinda vibing with alpha!joot, and wanted to get inside his head a little to get a different perspective on the things that were happening in "Remedy." admittedly i was also feeling a bit angsty :') i think i burned myself out after writing a 6k, but at the same time i'm anxious to finish up the rest of my 🌒 requests. writing "fake-date" is going alright, but i can't stop feeling guilty abt suddenly leaving "message received" & its readers (honestly a lot more ppl like that story than i expected?? which is wonderful but at the same time i almost never finish anything so ;_;). hhh idk what it is, i guess i should just let myself take a break and remember that the requesters probably have more patience than i think, and that i'm not a oneshot machine and that's ok >:'D

btw i've been using ">:'D" a lot and i just wanna let y'all know that in my head it looks like this:

so, like, an agonizing laugh >:'DDDDDD

end of vent haha :')) thanks for reading, i hope y'all enjoyed this little continuation!!