Creative Chaos

Christian, sketch artist, and Bat Family enthusiast. I’m just here to cause happy chaos. Never lose your sense of wonder. ✨ (Buy me chai HERE!!!)

[lulurhythm]

WRITING COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN!!!

As an experiment for myself this summer, I will be taking writing commissions in addition to my weekly posting schedule. I adore stories with redemption or reunion plots, angst with happy endings, and found family shenanigans!!! I tend to stick in the sci-fi/fiction genres, but I don't mind a bit of fantasy, and I also write original works. Here are the general guidelines--- - Tropes I Like: Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Family, Enemy to Caretaker, Original Characters, Whump (With a Happy Ending), Angst, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Touch, Platonic Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Fluff, Character Studies, Prose, and Crack Treated Seriously. - Fandoms I Enjoy: DC Media/Comics (Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Robin, Orphan, Superman, and Flash); the MCU Phases One - Three (Iron Man, Captain America, Bucky Barnes, Daredevil, Punisher, and Spiderman); Project Hail Mary (Movie); The Dark Knight trilogy; Superman & Lois (CW TV show); and The Flash (CW TV show). If you want something written with the same vibe as these medias or characters, we might be a good fit!!! - Tropes I Do Not Write: Romance, M/M or F/F, Character Bashing, Politics, Hopeless Endings, Gore, Explicit Torture/Sexual Themes, Horror or any other type of Big Scary. I will also not be accepting direct continuations to any of my currently public stories. (Unless you are the person I wrote that story for in the first place!!!) - Pricing: $15 USD per 1,000 words. My bundles include the Lightning Round for $5 (500 words or less); the Short Story for $60 (3,000 to 6,000 words); and the Novelette for $120 (7,000 to 10,000 words). These are not official writing lengths or styles, just my own packaging for word counts!!! If you want to pay by specific number of words, I will either round up or down to the nearest five-hundred words by $6.50. - How To Commission Me: Send an email to [email protected] with your request or further questions!!! Do NOT send a commission ask through comment sections or any form of social media. Half of the payment will be required up front, as is custom. I prefer Venmo, but will also accept PayPal, Zelle, and Cash App. (An extra $5 flat fee will be required by myself from anyone using PayPal, as that particular entity likes to eat some of the money during transaction.)

If you want to get a read on the styles of writing I do, you can check out my works on AO3 under Lulu_Rhythm: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lulu_Rhythm/works

If you would like to support what I do without commissioning a story (and buy me chai in the process!!!), feel free to make a donation at my Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/lulurhythm Airkisses!!!---

Lulu R.

[lulurhythm]

It’s depression season, baby. Let’s celebrate it this year!!!

[lulurhythm]

Some Spidersona practice!!! Featuring @speaching’s character, Cyril Cook or Spiked Spider; a badass kid with mutant characteristics whose spikes respond to his emotions— and ruin his clothes. His design is based on the spinybacked orbweaver.

Mine is significantly less cool— Helen May Parker, an amnesiac who can’t remember anything about herself aside from her name. I’m in the process of her redesign, but her powers include telepathy, a range of minor mindreading skills, and the ability to manipulate emotions— along with others’ perceptions of their own pain. (She’s an all-natural painkiller, folks; for the very low price of one hug—)

I am SO excited to share the fullbody action poses an’ design redraws. Unfortunately, that will have to wait for July— I myself am taking a month-long break from all things screens. Writing updates will continue on Mystery Mondays, however; never fear.

[lulurhythm]

I’ve seen multiple illustrations now of Deathstroke in this scarf, and it got me thinking. Did it used to belong to Wintergreen before passing down to Wilson? Did it become a comfort item for him? After he snapped, cut everyone off, and went feral, do you think he wore it until the scent of his packmate was completely gone?

[lulurhythm]

Starving on the way to Erid.

[spitzonthefritz]

this is going around twitter rn but im also super curious: please tell me your top four comfort movies that you’re always down to watch bc my friend thinks mine are ridiculous and now we’ve realised everyone’s version of “comfort” is hilariously different

[id10t-error-f-ck]

HTTYD(all three movies but usually the first or the third), Tangled, Brave, and the original Child’s Play

[luca-is-a-pengu]

Top Gun 1986, Legally Blonde, Deadpool and Wolverine and Dead Poets Society

which is an interesting assortment. action, romcom, action comedy, and tragedy.

[lycanwingbat]

Pacific Rim, Ultraman Rising, Treasure Planet, and the Bumblebee movie.

My brother, for some reason, doesn’t understand the concept of comfort movies🤷‍♀️

[lulurhythm]

Ooo, Pacific Rim is a great one!!! It’s too bad they never made a sequel…

Ahem.

Big Hero 6, Project Hail Mary, The Adventures of Tintin, and Antman. If PHM doesn’t count because it’s too new (even though I’ve seen it seven times in theaters an’ cried all seven), The Dark Knight Rises. That one always calms me right down.

[lulurhythm]

Who else caught the Top Gun rerelease??? Watching those movies back to back on the big screen was the most perfect, emotional, vibey way to ring in the summer. ✈️

[lulurhythm]

Rocky wanted to do a space walk. This did not go according to plan, statement.

[lulurhythm]

Just some quicker pieces I never got around to sharing. 🥰

[lulurhythm]

Mystery Monday Sneak Peek

   “Sorry.”

   Marcus blinked rapidly, zoning back in, and scooted to the right on the bus stop bench to make room. Some fumbling dude in a suit… “Nah, you’re good. Anniversary? Birthday?”

   “Celebration.” The man sat with a sigh, gathering up the couple of flowers that had fallen out of the exceptionally large bouquet. “They’re for my daughter’s show--- She’s performing in the ballet downtown tonight with the Moscow dancers.”

   Marcus’ eyebrows went up with passing interest. Mostly he was trying to keep an eye out for the correct bus number--- He was supposed to be meeting Blondie here for the “first time”, but Pete’s instructions had been vague at best. Still, this guy seemed… familiar… “Hey, no kidding. That’s a pretty expensive show… Wife wanted me to take her awhile back.”

   “That it is.” The man’s voice deepened with pride. “She’s worked VERY hard to get in as the guest artist. Hopefully flowers will be enough; I’m late as it is…”

   Marcus finally gave the dude his full attention, delightedly incredulous. “You’re LATE? Guy.”

   The man leaned on his knees, flowers held carefully between his legs, and gave Marcus an almost irritated look. His eyes were startlingly colorful. “What?”

   Marcus propped himself up against an ad for reading glasses, crossing his arms to get comfy, and didn’t bother suppressing a laugh. It was always the rich assholes too busy running empires to pay attention to their own damn kids, wasn’t it? Thus went the tired stereotype, but hey… he’d been wrong before, and this guy seemed pretty sincere. “Kids don’ care about gifts, man. Jus’ be on time for ‘em once in a while. Showing up’s the main thing.”

   “I didn’t take a car,” he muttered, but his lips pulled up a rueful smile. “That might have been a bit smarter, in retrospect, but parking in this part of town is a nightmare.”

   “I wouldn’t know. You get her favorite color, at least?”

   “Yes; pink, purple, and yellow.”

   “Not many men know their kids’ favorite colors.” Marcus sniffed as he mentally waved away his previous assessment. Maybe he was a bad person for assuming shit. “You’re doin’ alright.”

   “Yeah?” The man’s voice took on a note of amusement. “You think so?”

   “Yeah, s’ important to kids, colors.”

   “She’s just turned twenty years old.”

   “…Oh.”

   “Tsss… believe me, she is just as obsessed with color as ever. Anything particularly sparkle-covered especially.”

   “Yeah? I wonder if I’ll have to deal with a glitter phase.”

   “You have a…?”

   “Just a seven-month-old.”

   “Ahhh… I wish I’d seen that age.” The man leaned against his side of the booth, smiling faintly at passing traffic. “Most of mine are adopted.”

   “Oh.” Marcus once more found himself reassessing. Was he talking to an angel? Just his luck to be caught talking to a freaking ANGEL on his too-lazy-to-pick-clothes day--- Ripped jeans an’ a stupid t-shirt number with some kinda checkered band across the middle. It was too small. “That’s pretty cool, though. You seem like a good dad.”

   The man actually scoffed for some reason, casting his gaze away across the skyline. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

   Marcus raised one critical eyebrow, sensing a challenge. He wondered briefly if it would be rude to prod, then decided that he didn’t give a fuck. He was bored--- He’d forgotten his phone at home an’ it was starting to drizzle. He might as well entertain himself while he was stuck here waiting for some kinda secret meeting set up through cryptic instructions. “Uhoh. Doin’ damage control?”

   “In a manner of speaking. I… wasn’t the best with my first few.”

   “How many do you HAVE, man?”

   “I don’t know.” The man laughed, and Marcus chuckled along with him, but he had the strangest sense that this dude wasn’t actually joking. “I feel like there’s a new one every time I turn around… Oh, forgive me, that must sound crude.”

   Marcus laughed helplessly, startled, and pulled his worn jacket (new from a thrift store since he’d unwittingly given his last one away to thieving interlopers at Sunday dinner) tighter over his already-tight shirt. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

[wolfythewitch]

all all all

[lulurhythm]

This one made me CRY. 😭😭😭

[bulkhummus]

its a long journey to erid

[lulurhythm]

Hey, so if you make me cry, what then? >:’[

[lulurhythm]

There are holds on all copies of the “Project Hail Mary” book at my library for over a year.

Time to invest in a new purchase, I think.

[lulurhythm]

Robin Week

Day Seven:

Free Pick

Prompts: Reverse Robins AU, Different First Meeting with Batman, Legacy, Original Robin Costume.

   “Amity… stop pacing.”

   Jason heaved a dramatic sigh, plopping down at Damian’s side. “It’s not like we’re staging a bust against the ONE mob in town that hates my guts or anything.”

   Fright gave his partner an appraising glance, noting his bouncing leg. The fourteen-year-old had been adamant about only seeking Fright out for training, for the tools to take down the people gunning for his blood--- and for other children’s. To his credit, he was exceptional at it. Learning… adapting. Turning his anger into a cooled blade, a precise weapon.

   Batman hadn’t been fooled by the bravado, and neither had Fright. They understood fear better than anyone else, and Jason Todd had been afraid.

   “I promised that I would protect you,” Fright said levelly, shifting to get a better angle through his binoculars at the open market below. He could see one of the parties already gathering in the abandoned darkness. “You do not have to do this.”

   “I know,” Amity said quickly, scooting closer. “I want to. I want to fight for those kids.”

   A smile tugged at Fright’s chilled face. “Good. These are only third-level enforcers plotting a takeover; we’re here to intercept their shipment route so that we can anticipate how they’re going to change it. They don’t know who you are, remember, and the ones who do---”

   “Think I skipped town two years ago; yeah, yeah.” Amity’s lenses narrowed, mimicking his facial expression, but the lower half of his bulletproof mask gave nothing else away. “We goin’ in?”

   “Go to that crooked chimney.” Fright pointed quietly. “Wait to deploy your flash on my signal.”

   Amity grinned brightly, slipping off into darkness. His suit was much heavier than Fright’s, built for distraction--- and for shielding. His preference to Fright’s quick offensive tactics. A “foil”, he called it. Stupid, Batman preferred. Fright was inclined to agree, but neither of them had been able to say no to a child who would otherwise throw himself into harm’s way, armor or not.

   The Amity suit lit up like a flashbang grenade when activated, and the wings of a jump suit were built in for quick escapes that wouldn’t rely on his as-yet-malnourished muscles to haul all of that armor by himself. He was prepared. He’d be fine.

(Read the rest on my AO3!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/83479846/chapters/220886666 )

[lulurhythm]

Robin Week

Day Five:

Damian Wayne Day

Prompts: Time Travel, Different Mentor, Animal Transformation, Canon Divergence.

   He thought he was toddling for the mess hall. He was hungry, and lunch was too far away. He wanted food.

   Instead--- he was stumbling through COLORS.

   “Mother?” he called, fearful, and there she suddenly was--- hair down, cloak draped around her shoulders to protect her dress from the rain.

   Damian glanced around, blinking. Where was he? It was dark… and damp… and cold.

   “Remember,” Mother told him, and he suddenly couldn’t breathe. That was HIM, bigger and taller and angrier; an imposter at Mother’s side--- “Do not give in until you have secured your place.”

   Damian reached out, determined at once to remove this interloper, and he fell into color again. When his feet finally found solid ground, he was standing in a huge cave, and the clash of battle rang in his ears---

   “GIVE IN!!!” someone screamed, and his entire body seized with terror. He looked up… and up… and up. His own face snarled far above as his lookalike attacked another, a child--- “I ALONE AM WORTHY!!!”

   The other fell, tumbling head over heels toward the ground, and Damian lunged toward him with a cry of dismay---

   Color, color, too much color, and then he was sitting in a warmly lighted room, books all around, and his own self was nestled on the other couch, and someone was wrapping his splinted arm---

   “I do not require your assistance,” he spat, but the way he said it made Damian wish to be invisible. He looked away, trying to understand, trying to breathe. Was this a deadly warning? Don’t LOOK at me…

   The room spun, coming right side up on the top of a tall building in the middle of a city. Damian gawked at the brightly lighted sight--- He had never been so high up, he’d never even seen a city; he had only heard the stories--- and then he saw the name on the building adjacent. Wayne.

   Was this FATHER’S city?

(Read the rest on my AO3!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/83479846/chapters/220552531 )

[lulurhythm]

Robin Week 2026

Day Four:

Stephanie Brown Day

Prompts: Robin Training, Body Swap, Different Predecessor, Funeral.

   “Faster. Nope--- sloppy form. Watch for a damn opening. Good… good. Bad. HUP---”

   Stephanie yelped as his blink-an’-you-miss-it takedown swept her feet out from under her. With a hollow whumph, her spine hit the mat. She rolled over, coughing, and the entire warehouse spun. Shit.

   “I told you to watch your blind spot earlier.” Someone stooped next to her head, gloved hand extended. “That’s twice you’ve fallen for the same feint; let’s take a break.”

   “No.” She slapped the hand away, huffing. “I’ve got this.”

   He stepped back, silent. When she struggled to her feet, she could practically see the raised eyebrow, even through that dumb shiny red helmet.

   “I’m not stupid,” she spat, bristling.

   “No,” he allowed, crossing his arms instead of getting back into a ready position. “Just fuckin’ stubborn.”

   “Perfect, then; we match.”

   “Stubborn doesn’t win you prizes, kid… stubborn gets you killed.”

   You would know, she wanted to bite back, but there were certain rules to follow if you wanted to be trained by the Red Hood. One was “No Bringing Up The Zombie Robin’s Past”. Another was to never EVER refer to either of them as Robin.

   Even though this was definitely, one-hundred percent, bona fide Robin training.

   “I can do this without you,” she reminded him.

   He cocked that stupid helmet to the side. “Reeeeeeeally? That’s not what you said when you came a-begging for a deal.”

   “I don’t need your permission, jerk.”

   “No, just my skills.” He finally uncrossed his arms, snapping his fingers. “Fine--- again.”

   She couldn’t help a triumphant smile. “Yeah?”

   “I could beat your ass all night, kid.” He beckoned egotistically. “‘S long as you wanna keep eating gym mats, I’m happy to oblige.”

(Read the rest on my AO3!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/83479846/chapters/220411926 )

[lulurhythm]

Robin Week 2026

Day Three:

Tim Drake Day

Prompts: : De-Ageing, Hero Worship, Circus, No Man’s Land.

   “DON’T TOUCH IT---” Whumph.

   Lightning flashed outside, lighting Tim’s way out of the trap he’d--- No… wait. Blankets. Cast. A bedroom floor.

   He was recovering in Wayne Manor. He hadn’t failed--- He had saved Batman’s life; he had solved the puzzle on time.

   Barely.

   Tim huffed a shaky sigh, carefully hauling himself to his feet. He had to use the post of the bedframe for balance… Standing on his right leg still made him wince, and despite his insistence, Bruce hadn’t cleared him for going home to an empty house in order to heal alone where he wasn’t bothering anyone yet.

   Um… as it were.

   Clearing his throat stoically to gaslight his heartbeat into slowing the heck down, Tim grabbed his crutches, hobbling drunkenly into the hallway. It had only been two hours since he’d last checked the bedside clock; he officially couldn’t sleep. This was the perfect time to get some casework done, no? It wasn’t like he had school in the morning--- Bruce wasn’t allowing THAT, either--- so he could just sleep in.

   This had nothing at all to do with the ache in his throat or the panic dogging his heels or the way the memory of Batman almost falling for a deadly trap while Robin’s stupid brain buffered on the sidelines made it difficult for him to breathe.

   Tim was just gonna get some work done. Maybe even run into Bruce on the way. Ascertain his continued unharmed existence. Absolutely no biggie.

   This excuse only held up for as long as it took Tim to hobble out of the elevator--- and see not Batman at the Batcomputer, but Nightwing. The ritualistic inner monologue instantly faded into static. When the hero twisted in his seat, eyebrow raised, Tim found himself STAMMERING. Oh… oh NO.

   Ever quick on the uptake, Dick smiled kindly, and his eyes crinkled a little at the corners. “S’up, baby bird? Y’ can’t sleep?”

   Tim glanced down at his messy Batman pajamas, crutches, and a singular socked foot. He could feel himself turning red. “Nightmares.” What? NO!!! Don’t ADMIT that--- “Just… uh… about Bruce.”

(Read the rest on my AO3!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/83479846/chapters/220282356 )