vulune - Tumblr blog

vulune · 1 month

Text

me wanting to just be silly and hear the latest gossip but layla telling me she doesn't think i want to know like .... damn was she right because someone hold me on a leash for real. still, hear me out .......

this is for my fellow women lovers, women enjoyers and ESPECIALLY women writers. don't you EVER fucking stop writing women. don't you EVER dare to let anyone intimitate you into erasing queer women. sapphic women exist. bisexual women exist. trans women exist. queer women exist. poc women exist. all kinds of women exist. WE FUCKING EXIST and good fucking lord am i sick of people pretending we fucking don't.

women already have criminally few spaces in this day and age where they can feel safe without anyone sexualizing, fetishizing or generally just degrading them in some shape or form. that goes double for those of us identifying themselves as sapphic, bisexual or queer in general. as a bisexual poc (particularly half-asian haha.......) woman myself, i have dealt with shit like this countless of times studying & working in a male-dominated industry.

needless to say, creative works & writing on here in particularly is one of the very few outlets i have where i can fully embrace this side — my love for women — of myself without fear of retaliation of some kind and i know for a fact that i'm not alone in this. it genuinely breaks my fucking heart to see passionate writers lose the light they find in writing their favourite fictional women just because some white cishet guy can't keep it in his fucking pants. or for others to be afraid of not even attempting to write women in the first place because of reasons like that.

i'm not saying that's not valid, because it very fucking is. writing women without having to deal with at least ONE fucking person not reducing them to nothing but a sexualized fantasy for themselves to get off of is nearly impossible. to consistently write female characters is not for the faint of heart.

but that's also why i am begging everyone to not give up on any of these wonderful characters that you have invested so much time and love in. i'm begging everyone who's interested in genuinely writing and diving into a female presenting character to do so. and if you're afraid of it because of any of the reasons i was just complaining about, i'm asking you to do it anyway. if you're genuinely interested in writing and figuring out any kind of character — it's obvious.

i know writing a female character is hard. i know interactions may be lacking in comparison to male characters. i know you have to work twice as hard for them to get the same amount of attention male muses get. i know that for female ocs in particular, you often feel like you're doing a sales pitch instead of practicing a hobby you enjoy. but i am still asking you to do it and please hold your precious female muses. keep writing them. keep developing them. keep advocating for them. because if we don't do it, no one will.

#pleading emoji #thank you for this esther it really helped me a lot #ive been about ready to drop most of my female muses just because it's been so #exhausting and frustrating lately but these words are so true

26 notes · View notes

vulune · 1 month

Text

ㅤㅤㅤ𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 as she was fastidious - as calculating as she was cold, and as clever as she was duplicitous. solitary by nature, it was such a rarity for her to bring in another on her research, something so statistically out of the norm, that even the mere prospect of it had set screwllum whirring with alarm and herta nearly choking on her tea. for what strange repose could ever lend for the great ruan mei to need any assistance at all? her genius, though cruel - was not outwardly mean to others. what lab assistants she did utilize were... treated well, but inevitably altered in some way shape of form. and though all walked away with limbs and faculties intact, encounters with ruan mei could be harrowing. life-changing. universe-altering. it was just one of the many reasons she had chosen veritas ratio: he could withstand her.

ㅤㅤㅤultimately, this entire project had not been a ruse for the little secondary experiment she'd begun conducting. no - she really did want his assistance, for ruan mei was no fool to the intelligence of those around her. it was just... being around him for so long, becoming privy to his habits, the innerworkings of his unfathomable mind on this chilly, backwater planet - well. she didn't do things by halves. ruan mei's motivations were unclear, even to her. she was not a fool. she knew herself to be painfully beautiful and feminine, difficult to resist for most men until they caught the ice and morbid curiosity in her stare. in truth she probably could have achieved similar results without the use of biological tricks, but... as loathe as she was to think it: where was the fun in that?

ㅤㅤㅤit had taken her longer than she'd thought for them to get here - for veritas ratio was not a weak man - but ruan mei supposed that without the permeating aromas of the flora in the back laboratory to mask her own personal concoction in the evening hours, he was bound to fall prey at some point. thusly - she peers up at him, small when pressed against the strong sinew of his frame - and lets dark lashes flutter over the deep pool of blue - green eyes.

ㅤㅤㅤ❝ you were - are - the prime candidate. ❞ is all she says, sweet voice filling the silence between them alongside the crackling fire like kindling to desire. it's such a clinical statement - but ruan mei is not unaffected. he fills her senses - the masculine size of him, the scent of chalk and books and a chemist's lab worth of bath products. she is not immune - leaning into calloused digits and ensuring with ease that her body language is as it should be: open, inviting, temptuous. ruan mei knows that despite her cravings of aeonhood, she is still just as human as he is, and just as subject to her urges. sometimes, higher thinking wasn't much higher at all.

ㅤㅤㅤshe searches his dawn-bright gaze, ready to question how he feels mostly for curiosities sake, only to be swept into the warmth of a kiss. there is hesitance then - just a modicum of it. at what - it is hard to say. perhaps it is simply surprise that he has made the first move - but ruan mei knows deep down that it is because the one variable she had not accounted for, was ratio's sheer intensity and the lust that lanced through her like livewire to skin.

ㅤㅤㅤshe leans into that kiss like a plant turns towards the sun - elegant and slow, but not without yearning. one hand, previously holding embroidery, drops the project in favor of grasping his tunic, as the other flutters over the strong line of his arm. head tilts, and the petals of perfect lips seek succor against his own, parting beneath him like an unfurling bud. she is painfully sweet - as always, and absurdly perfect... the soft contours of her body melding flush with his, rising to her tip-toes in elegant heels to seek more, a bit more... as if she is as greedy for this, as she is for her personal ambitions.

ㅤㅤㅤonly when her mortal frame calls for air does she part, doing so with a delicate noise and resplendent flush upon pale cheeks. ❝ hate me all you want. ❞ her voice - the same sound of wind chimes in a spring breeze, the caress of silken sheets across bare legs most sumptuous, the yearning call of desire... ❝ but my methodology only hurried along the results that were already there, veritas. ❞ oh how wonderous, oh how lovely - to be woven betwixt her fingers like fine silk, and caressed with the same, unending reverence. though she does not say it, the statement lingers in the air: simple biology.

@vulune said : tilt. you take the sender's chin in your hand and make them meet your gaze. // okay ruan mei for ratio i couldn't be stopped ↬ ⭒˚｡🖁‧₊˚ 〖 down these mean streets . . . 〗

�� ❝ tell me one thing , miss ruan mei. are the others aware of your true intentions ? ❞

proximity had long dissolved when the genius had an idea in mind. one consisting of depriving the scholar of his personal space , moving to reduce their distance from inches to millimetres. where soon , not even the smallest unit of measurement , could account for the gap between them.

he grits teeth , once attention draws to the disobeyer of natural law , identifying the closeness she adopts towards his grand frame. though , physically — an indifferent observer might determine the inferiority of her stature , it is the immensity of her status and aura that threatens to devour him whole.

but the vicinity she slithers into , is deliberate. aimed to conduct her true experiment , guised behind the growth that spans their lodging.

perhaps , veritas had known all along about the truth behind ruan mei’s research — as a commoner does when his or her gut sensation strikes them. for he is still one of the mediocres , and in this moment , his placement on the hierarchical ladder is glaringly obvious.

❛ what an unconventional method ❜ , he must say. unorthodox to every degree , when he is swarmed by a concoction of chemical means. offering his logical framework a morsel of information to work with , before his physiology overrides rationality. a calculated step , that entices his make to search for the source.

still , with what little autonomy he possesses for the time being , a hand clasps the delicate structure that forms her jaw. tilting the pursuer of aeonhood , into the contemptuous scowl of humanity.

❝ to make me consign to being a subject rather than an assistant . . . for your little , passion project. ❞

she had accounted for it , that sway that flawed mortality — providing the scaffold to dissect. to quantify. or in his case , to observe. whilst she , the controlling variable , tampers to elicit her desired reaction.

an anticipated response that manifests in a further angle of her graceful features , glimpsing past her disposition — to lean into the planted waft that clutches to his receptors. magnetised by its composition.

❝ you are no better than the blight that rots the core of our world. ❞

but the ferocity in his words , and the flames that seek to sear — are all in vain when lips press to an unblemished canvas. surrendering to the stimuli that dulls his restraint.

#gemkun #* / ruan mei.#* / ruan mei: thread.#me: im not gonna make this that long #also me:

1 note · View note