Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY or any of its characters.
AN: Exams are almost over! Only a small paper left but who gives a fuck. I can finally continue updating Rose Knight and Ice queen. This story was inspired by Yoshiwara Lament. Originally sung by teto but I prefer the 96neko ver. I'm seriously into enabler right now, I don't know why.
Just incase, Yoshiwara was originally known as the red light district in Edo. In this fic, Yang is a high ranking courtesan (prostitute) and Ruby (Ruben) is the head of a very important and wealthy family and is also a samurai. Hopefully, you'll enjoy this.
The morning sun rose, deadly and beautiful in all its burning glory as it shone down on the district. Shops began to stir, occupants waking from the land of dreams to partake in harsh reality. From morning to afternoon, the district remained largely lifeless. Guards lingered outside the tall, red arches which signified entrance; but they had no courage to enter while the heavens peered down on them with such clarity.
Although the streets were littered with shops of every kind, only one dominated the rest. Amidst the musty brown shops stood a much grander one. Wooden beams held the large structure, while unlit lanterns hung limply from its hold like how a drowning man clung to a lifeboat. Inside, its people stirred slowly, bodies untangling from blankets and futon sheets. Women of ages as young as thirteen began to rise from their comfortable dwellings and sluggishly put the futons away.
The youngest began preparations for the morning meals while the older ones began to go about their day. They bathed in scented soaps, drowning out the scent of musky sweat and scrubbed the stains on their robes viciously.
The scrubbing served two purposes. One was to clean their clothes of dirt, sweat and tears.
Second, was to cleanse the memories of the night from their minds.
The solemn silence which hung over them as they scrubbed till their hands turned raw was tinged in the feeling of camaraderie, pity and bitterness.
They all stumbled in to the large hall and were served breakfast. The lavish meal did nothing but sour their appetites, yet they all downed bowls after bowls of rice, knowing that it was their only way for a sense of normalcy.
The afternoon melted away as the sun began to sink, staining the sky a reddish orange. Women stood at their windows, eying the setting sun.
They had no more tears to shed.
And then night fell noiselessly. Darkened streets suddenly exploded with bright lights, lanterns of red and orange flickering brightly as it beckoned men and women alike into the belly of the beast.
Women sat behind criss-cross wooden beams, the perfect pictures of submission and beauty. Faces painted with makeup and lips as red as sin, their lips all curled up in identical, blank smiles.
And, just like how moths flocked to beams of radiant light, men began to come forward, walking up to them and admired them with lust glimmering in their animalistic eyes. Some orbs were coloured with guilt, and the men who held those looked away quickly and stepped back under the veil of the night.
Red lanterns shuddered in the breeze.
Other orbs held nothing but desire, and these men stepped forward with only one thought in mind. The women sat gracefully. Like lifeless dolls with smiles painted on their faces.
In the grand building, a lone woman rested in her room.
From her shoulders hung a robe of silk patterned with brilliant flowers whose petals stretched and extended to the edge of her collar. Bright yellow rimmed the sleeves of her robe, white and gold melding seamlessly into her cream coloured flesh.
Locks of gold spilled down her shoulders, a display of silent defiance. Lilac irises were perched atop a sharp nose, and finely thinned brows gave her an aura of beast. But her lavish surroundings and expensive clothes largely suppressed her aura, giving customers the image of a shackled beast. Long, slender fingers held a metal pipe, and she occasionally took small puffs of it, lips puckered as they sent out a stream of smoke into the room.
Yang sat in the middle of the room, a figure of perfection.
Then, a light knock on the door brought her out of her reverie. "Mistress Yang?" The meek voice said almost softly. "Yes?" She responded just as quietly, setting down her pipe and turning her entire body towards the paper screen door. From where she sat, she could make out two figures behind it. One shadowed form was small, a petite frame which screamed innocence. The second shadowed figure however, was much larger.
Not taller. Larger.
The second figure was short and stout, but was stretched wide. Yang could see in in her mind's eye, the greasy, disgusting man with a leer on his lips and greedy prowling fingers. She suppressed a shiver and felt her lips hook up in a practiced, polite smile.
"Your client is here, mistress. Are you…?"
"I am already prepared. Send him in." Yang ordered kindly.
"Y-Yes…"
Came the squeak, and the screen door slowly slid open, revealing what Yang expected. The man was far more horrible looking in the flesh, fats enlarging his pig-like features with an equally large body to match. The man was rich however, the only thing allowing him to be in the presence of beauty such as hers.
He strided in confidently, shooing the smaller girl away as his features twisted into an ugly sneer of dismissal. The door was shut hastily, and the scampering of feet could be heard disappearing into the distance.
He placed his body near hers, with no regard for her personal space at all. Not that she was allowed any to begin with.
"How have you been, my yellow flower?" He crooned, and Yang had to withhold a flinch. Thankfully, her body was able to keep from doing so, and she applauded herself for not even inching away, no matter how much she wanted to.
"The same as always." She inclined her head with a small, blank smile. The room fell silent as the conversion was shot to the ground with swiftness and polite acidity.
His leer turned into a scowl. "As disrespectful as always." He grit out angrily, but his hands reached out to touch her exposed, white neck. Yang remained still, eyes impassive and body stiff. Fingers trailed down, hanging directly over her breasts as his scowl turned into a lusty leer once more. The man ached to seize her in a fit of passion, but he knew that she had always been a tough nut to crack. His past visits had proven so. But a beautiful flower such as this was not destined to remain unplucked. "No matter." His words slid out, breaths turning heavy. "I will teach you the true ways of a woman with a status such as yourself."
As his fingers reached for her mounds of flesh hidden under silk, a loud knock broke through the tense silence.
The man fell back with a start and a growl escaped his lips. "Who dares interrupt me?!"
"It is I."
The tall, lithe figure behind the screen stood unflinchingly at the order.
"The oldest son of the Rose family."
The man's skin paled with fright, and he scrambled over to the door, the object of his desires forgotten in a rush of fear. "I apologize for my impudence!" He said shakily, and fell to his knees in a dogeza stance. The screen slowly slid open, and a figure stepped into the room with an air of authority and strength surrounding him.
Yang smiled. A genuine one this time.
Ruben Rose stared coolly at the blubbering sack of fat before him, and his hands itched to reach for his katana, Crescent Rose. His hair was reddish black and was not tied up into a traditional hairstyle which most men of his stature wore. Servants were told to tie it up for him. But none dared to touch it, as it was said to have been soaked with the blood of his enemies. From where Yang sat, she could see that his tall but muscular body donned a bright crimson samurai robe, the elegance of it meshing well with the regal feel of the dragon figure embossed into the silk.
The Rose family was powerful. The oldest son, the head of the house, was a man who was feared throughout all of Edo. When he walked, men ran with their tails between their legs. With his sword, he cut down the injustice filling this era and freed many from their prisons.
A man with a kind heart, hidden behind a will of steel.
Ruben barely tilted his head in a shooing motion before the fat man tumbled out of the door. Horrified chokes and splutters littered the hallway as he escaped the man who was known as death himself.
Yang was about to stand up to greet him, before she was embraced with such passion that it made her heart fill with a sickeningly sweet emotion. "Yang. Yang. Yang." He muttered repeatedly as his voice shook with anger and sadness. Hands tight around her waist, the golden haired beauty pressed her face into his chest, inhaling his unique sent of roses. Her body warmed with happiness. She didn't speak. But it was not needed anyway.
The feel of her body against his was enough to calm him down, and Ruben drew back with a light blush on his face. Yang giggled and reached out to curl his reddish hair in her fingers, drawing a serene smile from him.
"What took you so long?" She asked softly, her soft supple hands cupping his cheeks and bringing him forward gently. His eyes fluttered shut and his next words shook her to the very core. Arms around her waist, he whispered the words.
"It has been done."
Yang blinked. Her actions ceased entirely, lilac irises widening with surprise…then hope? A wide grin found its way to her face and she forced their faces together in a sudden with a burst of energy. Soft lips met chapped ones. Ruben returned the kiss with equal fervor as their tongues battled for dominance, her tongue teasingly tracing the inside of his mouth.
Ever the gentleman, his hands slid down to her waist and remained there. This subtle action made Yang's core spark with desire and arousal, and her hands dipped into the v neck of his robe, fingertips gliding over a well chiseled body. She moaned when her fingers lightly traced the outline of his abs, and allowed his tongue to dominate hers when she busied herself with getting reacquainted with his beautiful body.
His skin was littered with scars of every kind, and she found that she loved it. Every time her hands came across an old scar, Yang mewled sensually and nipped his lips, making his body shake and shudder at her small movements. But still, his hands remained where they were.
Whenever their lips parted, she took the opportunity to leave bruises on his collar bone and made his back arch with delight at the feel of a warm tongue lapping against his hot flesh. "Y-yang!" He moaned her name with such love and passion it made her toes curl and her heart pound. After being satisfied at her 'markings', she impatiently pushed his clothes of his shoulders, the red silk pooling at her ankles and she surged forward like a hungry beast.
She bit, sucked and licked his flesh as she continued downwards, her well-endowed bosom straining against her own robes. Undoing his sash, Yang kissed the shell of his ear as her hands went down…down.
Ruben gripped her silk robes tightly as his hands shook, but his hands moved nowhere and touched nothing, which seemed to encourage Yang more. Roughly, she brought his face up for another steamy kiss and gave his lips a light lick when she pulled back. When she saw how his eyes were glazed over, and how his breaths escaped in heavy pants, the woman felt a surge of pride at the sight.
Pushing him down onto the tatami floors, Yang straddled Ruben; her lilac eyes burning with love and passion. He smiled and threaded his fingers through her golden mane of hair. He whispered.
"I love you."
And she pounced.
After they both slowly came down from the heights of ecstasy, Yang tilted her head to observe him. Her own face was slicked with sweat from the passionate night of lovemaking, and to see Ruben in such a similar state…it was wonderful.
Their silk robes covered their dignity, and from where she lay, Yang could see the stray rays of the morning sun beginning to shine through her curtains. Pressing a kiss to his shoulder blades, her eyes widened with delight when his eyes slowly fluttered open, revealing eyes of silver. "Good morning." He greeted groggily as his hands ghosted over her bare stomach.
She laughed and pressed herself further into him. "I would not mind…" She whispered in his ear. "Waking up like this for the rest of my days." Yang finished, and marveled at the blush which turned the tip of his ears bright pink. Ruben smiled happily and tucked his head under her neck. An intimate gesture which seemed as though she had won the game of dominance they played last night.
"Your wish has been granted then." He said slowly, the words leaving the tip of his tongue slowly. Ruben caressed her back, rough and calloused hands smoothing over her soft flesh. She sighed happily.
"How did you do it?"
"After what I did…this seemed like a small matter in comparison."
Yang grinned. "This display of force is unbecoming of you." She said teasingly. Ruben smiled and responded. "Who else did I learn it from, but the best?"
"Flatterer."
"Thank you for such an honest compliment, my wife."
Yang felt her breath hitch. Ruben smiled kindly at her reaction and captured her lips in a much, gentler kiss. "We have to address each other as such now." He murmured with a small grin of mischievousness. "It is now set in stone."
She laughed breathlessly.
"So it is…"
"Which reminds me." His tone turned dangerous, and the air around them sparked with the anger which had now ignited the fierceness of his soul.
"Touching another man's wife is punishable by death."
He growled lowly, eyes narrowing into slits.
"I shall deliver to him, a fate worse than death itself."
Yang pressed a light kiss on his forehead and began to rise from beneath the robes. Her figure was illuminated by the rays of the rising sun. Stretching her limbs, Ruben felt his eyes trail across her delightfully naked figure, before silver eyes met sensual lilac ones.
"I have no doubt that you will do so." She purred.
"But for now, can we enjoy this moment, my husband?"
Yes, it is not looked down upon to be married to a former prostitute. Kablamo.