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

Born to Die

TW: Period typical misogyny and depictions of miscarriage. Skip to the 🩵 emoji if you don't want to read about it

You walked up the stairs to Erina's room, right at the top of the tower, and knocked on the door. You heard the iconic swishing of her silk skirts, and the door clicked open. Erina stood before you in a red silk dress, her hair dry despite just being washed.
"Um, good evening." You stuttered, feeling shy the way you always did around beautiful women such as her. "Me and Jonathan were just talking about his past, and I was wondering..."
"How I came into the picture?" Erina asked. You nodded, and she looked down.
"It's a rather sad story, but I want to share it with you. It's only right, after all." The vampiress led you into her room, and closed the door behind her. It was illuminated in warm golden light by her many candle lanterns, and she dug around in a cabinet for a bottle and glasses. For herself she poured some bottled blood, provided by her husband as a bedside snack. And for you, she pulled out a strange, green bottle. Erina poured some into an odd glass with a bulb at the bottom, put a slotted spoon over the top, and added a sugar cube to the spoon. She then dripped water through the cube, turning the verdant liquid below a milky shade.
"Absinthe." She said, holding forth the glass. You accepted it, and the two of you sat down on her coffin-bed to let Erina recount her past.

Erina had been born in 1680 to a wealthy family. However, her father had been a tyrant of Draconian levels. Provided with a daughter rather than a son, he sought to make Erina into nothing but a "good bride" to be given away when she was old enough. However, despite her rigid upbringing, Erina found solace in a odd place. Most of the books in her father's library were forbidden to her, yet the poetry section was allowed as it was deemed "suitable." There she had found something remarkable, nestled away amongst the large tomes of Snorri Sturrolson and Homer. It was a thin book, filled with the poems of Sappho. Erina would often lay on her bed, face in the book, wondering how it could be that she wasn't the only woman in the world who'd ever felt this was about other women. Erina had often stared at the scullery maid as a child, enamoured by her wide eyes and long, soft hair. She'd thought her to be awfully pretty, and was confused when her mother told her about her duties to have a son and marry a good man. Yes, she'd had a pash on one of the footmen when she was a teenager (nothing had ever come out of it- she was too shy to even talk to him), but why not find a husband or a wife? Any discussion of this sort of thing was met with horrified gasps and a hard caning, so she learnt to keep her mouth shut, even if just for self-preservation.

At the age of 18, Erina had been married off to a rich man in his thirties. He was one of father's business partners, and Erina had been strongly "encouraged" to accept his offer for marriage. He was a duke, and as they rode away in his carriage to his house in Liverpool, Erina direly hoped that she'd be happy there.
She wasn't.
Erina was forbidden from leaving the house without a male chaperone, and was expected only to wear clothes that the duke approved of. Books were forbidden, and Erina's sole purpose seemed to become getting pregnant. She was a sickly woman, always getting coughs and colds, so no attempt to have a baby ever sired anything at all. Erina was nearly always sniffling and shivering, so it was a miracle when the duke finally managed to impregnate her. By now she hated the man, hated his stink of hair oil and cigars, how he clawed at her like a dog in heat. She hated how she'd become just a accessory to him, and yet at the same time was reliant on him, as she wouldn't have any worth if she couldn't have children. The doctor had tested her urine, and adding on her frequent morning vomiting, it was clear that she was pregnant.
"Let's hope it's a boy!" The duke smiled, patting her belly. He pulled out his hip flask, and offered it to her.
"Brandy, for fortitude."
"I don't like brandy." Erina replied meekly.
"Drink it, woman. It will make your bay strong! Why, this makes soldiers and sailors strong, so take just a nip."
Erina grimaced, but sipped from the flask. As it was her duty, just like everything else.