Jjba Vampire AU- Children Of The Night (Jonathan/Erina/Speedwagon x Reader)

In The Night

As the days passed, you worked through the paintings, restoring them one by one. You left them to dry on tarpaulins in the ballroom, as it was the biggest unused room in the house and thus best suited to such a job. It was a huge room, the walls ringed with mirrors and the ceiling painted with frescoes from mythology. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, but it felt unloved. Dust cloths covered the piano and tables, and the silver mirrors were spotted with black rust. Cobwebs hung from the chandelier, and the entire room smelt overwhelmingly of dust. However, it was dry and empty enough to let the varnish on the restored paintings dry, so it was good enough for you.

The restoration was going well, but although your spirits should've been lifted by Jonathan's sheer kindness, you were still uneasy. He was wonderfully friendly, always keen to show you around the house or talk about books, but you had to admit that you were a little scared of him. After the dream with Erina, you had no more odd dreams, as if it was an omen. The fear that he was a Bluebeard hung over your head like a storm cloud, and you were constantly curious about Erina. Could she be a ghost, using your sexuality to get a message through to you? You had a lot of time to think about such things, as Jonathan never left his study during the day, and Robert's behaviour was getting stranger and stranger. He'd started running away from any rays of sunlight that came through the open curtains, and his complexion was even worse. By this point, his skin was a greyish colour and his lips were almost purple, as were the dark shadows under his eyes. His hair was lank and dull, and he had none of the energy he usually had, bar one circumstance. And that circumstance was, by absolutely no surprise, Jonathan.

It was a sunny day about a week after you'd arrived at Castle Joestar, and you were working on the last of the library portraits. It depicted Jonathan's ancestor standing on a rocky outcrop in the moors, wearing a billowing black coat as the rains poured around him. It was all done in blacks and blues, the only colour coming from when the light from lightning reflected on the man's face. As you restretched the canvas, you heard a familiar noise coming down the corridor.
Clunk... Clink.... Clunk... Clink...
It was Robert, coming with your lunch tray. His walking had become erratic in the past few days, as he would swerve this way and that, like he was a pencil writing words on a piece of paper.
"Lunch, madame." Robert said in a small voice as he lurched into the library. Today's lunch was tomato soup and a toasted roll with butter, but it felt like it was missing something. The soup was delicious, but there was a familiar taste absent from it- garlic.
"Hello, Robert." You said, setting down your tools and taking off your gloves. Robert stood there stiff as a board as you tucked into your soup, staring at something behind your shoulder.
"Is something the matter?" You asked as you sat down to eat.
"My Master... Oh, you make his face beautiful again with your clever work, Miss ______. I shall miss you when you go, but if only you could be made into a Bride, like me." He mused, swaying slightly.
"What? A bride?"
"Oh yes, oh yes. I shall be a Bride to my Master, my Creator, my Lord. For he shall be my lovely husband, after all, so I must be his beloved Bride."
He was attracted to men?!

You were shocked, but you didn't let it show. You too were attracted to those of the same sex, but the fact that Robert was not only a homosexual, but also spoke with a cockney accent- he perfectly fit the image of the man from Susanna's story. Robert fixed you with a stare, and smiled widely. You wished he didn't, since the gums around his canines were bleeding.
"You are just like me. We both love our own kind." He said. "But I do not judge, and neither does the Master, as his other Bride is just like you." And with that, Robert turned on his heels and fled, leaving you startled and alone.
"How could he know that about me?!" You spluttered. You'd never told anyone about your dreams, so he must've somehow known about them. You surprisingly weren't worried, as he had his reasons to fear the sanatoriums too, but you were baffled as to how he could somehow see your dreams. Could he be a psychic? As you pondered this, Susanna's story came back to you.
He has been changed... We do not speak to the dead.