Insert name. ReaderxDio

The "Gutter"

Chapter 1: The Gutter

In the damp and narrow streets of London's East End, the year 1879 unfurled its tales of grit and shadows. A tall female figure and her slightly taller brother ambled along, their cloaks the color of dark wine. Derisively dubbed "The Slag" and "The Berk" by the locals, they wore these epithets defiantly, turning insults into insignias of their resilience.

As the siblings strolled, the echoes of the cobblestone paths were disrupted by the bellow of a stout man in his twenties. "SLAG!" The sharp call made Y/N pause, glancing at her brother Frankie. His response was a mere pause, a silent urging to continue forward. 'So have it your way, Frankie,' Y/N thought, resuming her walk with heightened alertness.

The short man's cries persisted, demanding their attention once more. "SLAG, GET OVER HERE! I'VE GOT A TASK FOR YA!" This time, both siblings turned around to face Mr. Thomsen, proprietor of a popular local bar.

Mr. Thomsen, visibly distressed, sought the siblings' aid in dealing with a recurring nuisance—Dio Brando. A gambler and a drain on Thomsen's livelihood, Dio had persisted despite being banned. Y/N, ever the shrewd negotiator, agreed to help in exchange for a fair reward.

A deal struck, Mr. Thomsen provided a detailed description of Dio—blond, approximately Y/N's height, and, he guessed, around her age. The siblings, armed with this information, followed Thomsen to his bar.

In the dimly lit establishment, Dio Brando, a troublesome figure, was engrossed in a chess match that held the attention of onlookers. Thomsen, with a nod, delegated the task to the siblings. Frankie, anticipating the potential for trouble, vowed to keep Y/N in check.

Approaching Dio, they witnessed a desperate plea from a man who Dio was robbing of his last coins. Y/N, her voice low and stern, intervened. She addressed Dio from beneath her hood, shadows concealing most of her face except for her lips. Dio, seemingly unperturbed, acknowledged her presence with a smirk.

"Finally, I get to meet you, Slag," he remarked, his grin widening as he rose from his seat. "Why don't we have a talk, and I'll leave? I'll even return the scum's money."

Before Y/N could respond, Frankie took charge. "We have a private room. Follow me." This unexpected assertiveness from her reserved brother left Y/N perplexed. As they moved away from the crowd into a smaller, more secluded room, a chill ran down her spine.

Seated around a round table with five chairs, Y/N positioned herself near the door, Frankie settled by a small window, and Dio leaned casually against the wall. Y/N cut to the chase, her gaze directed downward. "You wanted to have a talk, and we're here now. So, spit it out."

Dio, seemingly amused by her feisty demeanor, grinned again. "Feisty. I like it. But the real reason I wanted to talk was because I wanted to know how you ended up here."

The room hung with anticipation as Dio's inquiry lingered in the air. The silence stretched, an unspoken tension weaving through the atmosphere.

word count: 555 

I'm rewriting the story a little bit, which might make it shorty