Gentlemanly: Jonathan Joestar × Reader

Part the Oneth

Late Victorian England was indeed an inhospitable place for fair,gentle young ladies. Women had responsibilities, and were expected not to dine with their heavily clothed elbows on the table. Of course, other injustices (such as societal rejection and medical mistreatment,) were bad, but not nearly as bad as wearing a corset for a few hours.

One victim of such heinous acts was a girl named YN LN. Her parents had passed in an incident somehow involving Jack the Ripper, and she was left in the care of her widowed aunt.
At the time of documentation, she was at the mature age of sixteen.

“Spiderwort.”
“I told you, my dear, to call me ‘Aunt Wortie’.”
“Whatever. Why are you making me marry a man I don't know?”
“Why wouldn't I? He's charming, kind, and obtusely wealthy. I want my only niece to be happy. It's what your mother asked of me.”
yn huffed in disbelief. “How would this make me happy?! I'll be in a prison!”
“Please, yn. It's so much better than life in the slums, and that's where we'll end up if we keep losing money. You know you have expensive tastes.”
Yn scoffed and left the dining table, stomping up to her room and collapsing on her bed to cry. She sobbed loudly and shrilly so as to bother her aunt. Her heart hurt greatly, and the world ought to know that.

That night, after a painstakingly beautiful supper from Spiderwort, YN snuck out her window with her pet gorilla, named ‘Brothel’, perched on her shoulder. She wanted a raven, but Brothel was all they had at the brothel where she found her. Luckily, she made lots of raven sounds.
Anyway, YN ran away into the cover of night with only her glowing beauty to light the way. I mean, there were street lamps, but she couldn't see them in her fit of unbridled sorrow.

In the darkness, she noticed a bowl of cornmeal mash on the floor. God, she was so hungry. She licked it clean.
Before she could even move, a ragged man emerged from the shadows. “Miss, that was me fam’ly’s supper. Why did you do that?”
“Because I was hungry,” YN pouted, “I haven't eaten in almost fifteen minutes, and Lord knows my evil aunt won't take me back.”
The man quirked a brow. “What’d your aunt do?”
“She put me in a frilly dress and a corset, not to mention she's making me marry some rich man!”
“Well, that doesn't sound so bad, miss.”
YN scowled in disgust. “Of course a man would say that! Have you ever worn a corset?!”
“Er, no… but me wife does, and she has to work hard ev’ry day.”
“I find that difficult to believe. My corset broke all of my ribs and rendered me permanently bedridden.”
“Say, you don't look to be in bed, miss.”
“Of course not. I'm not like other girls. I'm brave enough to stand up for my rights and disobey medical orders.”
“Oh, alright. Well, please get some food back here. Me fam’ly hasn't eaten well in nearin’ a week.”
YN scoffed. “Men ask for so much and give so little in return. If our society is to evolve, we must evolve with it, purging outdated barbarism such as yours.” 
Before she could strike the man, his family emerged. She turned to them and sighed, tears already welling up. “Why do you follow such a man? If only you could see… you must summon the courage to open your eyes. Wake up… you must see what you have become.” Tears fell with mighty weight as she dwelled on her inability to help the world. “Dear friends… you have become… sheeple.”
The evil man spoke up. “Well that's jus’ uncalled for! Tobert’s a boy, even with his syndrome.”
A small, wooly child (presumedly Tobert) squeezed from between his siblings and looked down in shame.
YN gasped. “You poor child! Don't worry; I won't hurt you,” she whispered, approaching him.
Tobert stared at her confusedly as she held out an entire chocolate-almond cake with striped white sugar-fondant rosettes and two sliced strawberries carefully positioned atop mint leaves in the centre. He hesitantly took it in his hands.
The girl ruffled his fluffy white hair (the hair that wasn't on his face) and smiled warmly.
She walked off with a flutter in her heart, knowing that she did well. Although it was a behemoth feat of unparalleled charity, it wasn't enough to fully please her. She was simply that kind.

Upon entering the english countryside, YN curled up under the nearest tree, stroking Brothel’s wiry-haired back as the small gorilla purred softly. Sleep fell gently upon the two like a large block of concrete, which would have disfigured them had not it been metaphysical.

As she slept, images lept over her dormant mind like birds with long, springy legs capable of hurling them over large distances. Images of a newspaper.
“‘YN’s parents fucking died,’ says Mister Georf, who witnessed the event in full detail. Other witnesses claim that her parents are, in fact, not dead, but rather sleeping; and even when presented with the evidence that their bodies were nailed to a post to give the illusion of life, they yet held their baseless argument.”
Still asleep, YN wept silently.
“It is indeed november and it is indeed raining.”
With that, our protagonist shot up in panic.
“Miss?” a tender voice asked, “are you quite alright?”

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So basically this is a first draft that has no editing besides typo correction (I don't use autocorrect because it goes insane on my tablet) and if it sucks, you can credit that and my genuine lack of skill

God fuck is it really 2 alreafy jesus shit i, fucking tired