I'm Lulu and I write sometimes.
2024Lore project for my Vtuber, scripted and directed by me.
2022 - 2023Various short scripts I wrote for fun. Intended for voice actors.
2022Dia was starving.My half of an art-writing trade with swollenbabyfat. Dia, Laverne, and Seraphim belong to them!
2022“You best not venture into those woods, Rob… It’s where the black flowers bloom.”A short, spooky comic based on a chapter of my novel, Where We Withered. The original concept, characters, and script are my own. But my friends helped bring it to life!
OH NO! I'M TIERFALLING FOR YOU!!
2022All alone on Valentine's Day? You're in luck! Three of Tierfell's most eligible bachelors are here and they're ready to win your heart in the brand-new hit dating sim "Oh No! I'm Tierfalling For You!!"A fake visual novel my friends and I put together in around 4 days as a challenge for Valentine's Day. I was the scenario and scriptwriter for it. It's very different than my usual stuff, but a lot of fun to work on!
2021Demi makes her yearly trip down the mountain in order to avoid the oncoming winter storms. All is peaceful—until instinct kicks in.Written for the Tierfell 2021 Secret Santa exchange! This was a gift for Scoochin. Demi belongs to her!
Where We Withered is the paranormal mystery novel that I've been working on for the past several years. It's my passion project, my baby, and a labour of love.My goal with Where We Withered is to simply tell an intriguing story. I mainly write it for myself—Where We Withered is a way for me to express my creativity, indulge in my love of horror, share the characters I've made, and give myself a goal I can work towards. It's grown alongside me, and working on it over the years has really helped me refine my skills as a writer. It's as much a learning tool as it is my therapy. Where We Withered just means so much to me.That being said, it still makes me so happy to know other people can find joy in it too. I hope I can create something beautiful and strange that others can enjoy someday! ♡
Eight years have passed since a teenage boy vanished from the sleepy town of Wairua. And for eight years it’s been rumoured that the Grainger family and the curse they’re said to carry had something to do with it.Back when all this went down, the youngest member of the Grainger clan, Robbie, decided to leave Wairua in order to escape the fallout of it all and live a peaceful life. He vowed he’d never set foot in that town ever again. But when he receives a cryptic message from an old friend pleading him to come back to Wairua, Robbie reluctantly agrees, if only to help him finally get a bit of closure and to reconcile with those he left behind.However, Robbie returns to find Wairua a ghost of what it once was—businesses are failing, families who have resided there for generations are leaving, and nobody in town seems keen on addressing whatever it is that’s causing the community to wither. What’s even stranger is that much of Wairua’s misfortune is being blamed on a bizarre urban legend that locals have been whispering about for decades—the Wairua Witch. Which was the very same urban legend that birthed the “curse” that destroyed Robbie's family name all those years ago.Robbie starts to wonder if the truth behind the old folktale might hold the key to fixing things, not just for himself and his family, but the rest of Wairua too. He soon discovers an abandoned greenhouse up on Wairua Hill, as well as the peculiar little ghost girl that haunts it. And from there Robbie’s investigation into Wairua’s strange, supernatural history begins.But the deeper he digs, the more Robbie comes to realize there may be a lot more to all this than some old ghost story. Something dark has been buried deep beneath the town where the black flowers bloom and wilt, and Robbie may be about to unearth it.
COMMISSION STATUS: OPEN FOR SHORT PIECES (see below for details)
SLOTS: N/A
PRICING
$20 per piece. Length varies based on the prompt you give, but will be a minimum of 500 words.Payment via PayPal invoice.
TERMS OF SERVICE
Commissions are for personal use only. You are free to share your commission and let others read it. But give me full credit, preferably with a link back to my social media.
Do not claim the work to be your own. And under NO circumstances can you publish the work under your own name. Plagiarism is a crime.
You cannot sell the piece to a publisher, literary journal, or something else of that nature.
You cannot post your commission on writing sites (AO3, Wattpad, Royal Road, etc.) even if I am credited. If your commission was to go up on any such sites, it would be on my own profile.
You may make minor edits to your commission. Just let me know beforehand.
You cannot mint or turn your commission into an NFT, or otherwise exchange it for cryptocurrency.
My work cannot be used to train AI under any circumstance.
I can only offer a full refund if I have not yet started working on your piece, and partial refunds are available if I've started writing. But no refunds if the final draft has already been completed.
I occasionally stream working on commissions. Please let me know it advance if you would like the commission to be private.
I reserve the right to decline any commission I do not feel comfortable with.
PROCESS & DELIVERY
For examples of my work please refer to my portfolio.
To commission me, contact me through Twitter DMs on my twitter @roadkillrose. If you have me on Discord that's okay too!
We will discuss what you'd like me to write and your budget. I'll then give you a quote, and if all sounds good I will send you an invoice. Once I've been paid I'll start working on your commission!
Not required, but I work really well with deadlines. So don't be afraid to give me one! But please keep in mind that I do work a day job, so I can only write on my days off.
The more information you give me the better! That way I can capture your vision and characters in the best light. Things like detailed profiles or Toyhouse pages, and even moodboards are hugely helpful. I also have a tendency to ask a lot of questions in order to get things accurate.
I will send you a rough draft. Note these may not be perfectly edited. I try my best to edit as I go, but I am likely to miss a few things. You can let me know if you'd like me to change anything at this stage. But if all seems good I will continue!
Once I have the finished draft I will line edit, do a final rewrite and check for errors, then send it your way! You will receive both a viewable Google Doc as well as a PDF version. These versions will have my 'roadkillrose' logo at the bottom of the final page (this is basically my version of an artist's signature or watermark).
I typically write in either Spectral or Garamond, but if you have a font preference let me know! I'll also happily customize the font size, text colour, and page colour to your liking.
I may post the piece on my social media or use it as a future commission example. Please tell me beforehand if you'd like me to refrain from doing so.
Lastly, I'm very new to doing writing commissions and I'm still learning how this all works, so please be kind to me!
I WILL WRITE
First, second, or third-person point of view.
About your original characters. This includes non-human characters such as furries! (OCs are the backbone of our society).
Horror (the Lulu speciality).
Romance/shipping stuff.
Most genres. Just ask!
Vtuber lore.
Script format.
I MIGHT WRITE
Certain fanfiction (depends on the fandom and subject matter).
Some NSFW/spicy content (provided that you and your characters are 18+).
Commercial work (we can discuss beforehand).
Non-fiction work, such as promotional posts for your social media.
I WON'T WRITE
Extreme smut/fetishes (I’m just bad at it).
Fanfiction involving real people (Vtubers are okay as long as it’s clearly the online persona and not the person behind the avatar).
Your homework/college essays.
Hate speech/offensive themes. Dark and mature topics are fine, but I refuse to write anything that celebrates bigotry.
Writing for NFTs.
Writing that will be used to train AI.
Please include (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ somewhere in your inquiry so I know you've read this. If I don't see the emoticon in your message I will kindly ask you to go back and read my ToS again.
COLD HUNGER
Demi stared up at the tiny specks of starlight that peppered the midnight sky. That night, the mountaintop was silent, still, and serene… but Demi knew.Soon those bright stars would be covered up by a thick blanket of murky clouds, and with them would come a violent snowstorm. Demi could always tell when a blizzard was rolling in. Whether it was her innate animal instinct, a subtle change in the air alerting her, or something more otherworldly, she couldn't say. But she always knew when the weather would turn too harsh for her up there, and that it was time to make her annual journey down the mountain where she could find better shelter.Demi didn’t want to leave. She liked her home up in the alps—the beautiful views, the fresh, crisp air, the cosy feeling of curling up in her cave, and the peace and quiet. Sometimes she’d even argue with herself, trying to make a case that her cave and her thick coat provided enough protection from the elements. If she worked hard and stayed vigilant, she could survive the storm.But the risk just wasn’t worth it, and deep down Demi was well aware of that. Besides, she knew once the worst of it had passed, she’d be able to return. It was just a case of waiting it out.And so, after taking one last look into her comfy den, Demi headed out into the cold night.
The snow wasn’t falling so hard when she first left, so Demi could still enjoy the tranquillity of the winter night. She loved the way the snow sparkled in the moonlight, and the satisfying crunch it made with her every step—which was the only sound outside of the occasional hooting snowy owl.Maybe this won’t be so bad, Demi thought.She had no way of knowing how long her descent would take, and the terrain of the mountainside lacked any landmarks that could guide her way. But as long as she was heading downwards, she would eventually hit the valley. It was more a case of when, rather than how. Demi’s main concern was staying warm and safe… and fed.It hadn’t been that long since Demi had last eaten, however, heading down the mountain would be burning up a lot of energy. And the more energy she burned, the harder it would be to stay warm. Her coat may have provided a lot of insulation, but it would be useless without any internal body heat to warm it up in the first place. Demi would need to find food while she was still able to hunt.And it seemed as though that on that night, the Mountain Gods were on her side.Demi suddenly stopped in her tracks. She glanced back up towards the sky, but not to check the weather. She had caught an odd scent in the air.Warm and metallic, and strong like vinegar. It was unmistakable—blood.The reaction was instant, with her animal instinct completely taking over. Demi made a mad dash down the scent trail, claws out and fangs bared. She dove behind trees and leapt over icy rocks while being careful not to slip in the fresh snow. Demi was used to this terrain though. She’d hunted under these conditions many times before. Her movements were swift, graceful, and with pinpoint accuracy.The smell had pulled her into a small clearing, bathed in moonbeams and protected by tall, gnarled trees. Laying in the middle was an injured forest critter, bleeding out and nearing death. How it got in that state, Demi couldn’t say. But deep down she was relieved she wouldn’t have to harm the poor thing. It would be put out of its misery, and she would get a meal. That was the trade-off.Demi stooped down, flicking her long spotted tail and adjusting her footing in the snow. She lurched forward, pouncing on her feast and devouring it quickly with the intent of making their final moments as painless as possible. Blood dripped from her fangs and painted her claws as she tore the fur from the flesh. The crunching of tiny bones was the only sound that echoed through the forest for a moment. But when her meal was finished and the silence of the mountain returned, so did her energy and a feeling of fullness.With her hunger satiated and vitality restored, Demi cleaned herself up and continued on. The chill in the air was really starting to bite now. She didn’t have long.But thankfully, when she looked back up at the sky, Demi could spy a pillar of smoke billowing into the atmosphere, and a faint golden light emanating in the distance, glinting at her from between the trees.Where there was smoke, there was fire. And where there was fire, there was civilization.Shelter, Demi thought. She’d made it.It was time to say goodbye to the wilderness for another season. But that was okay. Demi would be back soon enough.The mountain always called her back.
THE SCULLERY
Morning tea in the garden was one of Queen Laverne's favorite pastimes. The fresh smell of spring flowers and the warmth of the morning sun was the perfect way to welcome the day. She sipped her chrysanthemum tea and watched a hummingbird flitter by as her mind wandered off alongside it. Teatime was one of the few moments of solace she had nowadays—royal life was always so chaotic. She was at her most relaxed then.Although, it could admittedly be somewhat lonely too.Unbeknownst to Queen Laverne, hiding just a little way down the garden path, in the shelter of a nearby cherry blossom tree, was Dia. As the royal pet, she was rarely able to leave the palace, but today she was able to venture outside (on the one condition that her guard, Seraphim, accompany her)."Watch your step, m'lady," Seraphim said. "Can't have you hurting yourself now."Dia only nodded in response. Seraphim had allowed her to take the lead—this was her free time after all. But Dia was remaining very cautious. Being out and about as she was felt somehow illegal, even if she did have permission to be there. Everyone within the palace was so protective over the one mysterious unicorn that lived amongst them. She was too precious to put in any sort of danger, so venturing outside was usually a no-no.But on the rare occasion that she was allowed out, Dia savoured it. The wild flora and fauna of the palace gardens felt somehow nostalgic to her. And being able to drink in the fresh air was almost enough to distract her from the ever-growing hunger she could never seem to escape, even if only for a brief moment.Dia hadn't noticed the queen until she caught the sweet scent of her flowery tea in the air. The unicorn looked around but halted when she spotted Laverne sitting at her quaint garden table. She looked so peaceful, silently sipping from her cup as she gazed around at the colorful flowerbeds.She hadn’t noticed Dia or Seraphim yet. Dia wasn't even sure if it would be okay to approach her.I would really like to speak with her though… she thought. Her heart, forever-bound with gold thread, fluttered at the idea.Tentatively, Dia took a step forward. But her hoof hit the root of the blossom tree, and the faint tapping sound was enough to alert Laverne of her presence.The queen's gaze shot up from her teacup, directing her attention towards Dia. Upon seeing the unicorn, she smiled.“Why, good morning, Dia. Would you care to join me?” Queen Laverne asked, a welcoming look on her pretty face.Dia glanced over at Seraphim, who gave a stern nod before slinking back into the shadows of the nearby foliage. Dia knew she would still be watching over her but would remain far enough away that she could have some privacy with Laverne.Once Seraphim had disappeared, Dia trotted over and took a seat down on the chair across from her queen. The wrought iron had been warmed in the sun and the delicious scent of floral tea had Dia excited."I don't know if I remember the last time I saw you outside," Queen Laverne mused as she picked up the ornate teapot sitting between them to pour a cup for Dia. She felt a bit embarrassed; the queen was not supposed to serve her.Laverne finished pouring her tea and gave Dia another smile. Shakily, Dia reached out to pick up her cup and saucer. It was the finest bone china she'd ever seen—ornate hand-painted lavender decorated the edges, and the china itself was so delicate she could almost make out the silhouette of her fingers through it.She took a sip, flinching slightly at the heat. But the refreshing taste soon replaced the pain. Absolutely delicious! Dia tipped her head back and kicked her hooves out in delight.Dia noticed Laverne stifling a giggle."I-is something the matter?""No, no," Laverne shook her head. "You just look so cute when you drink your tea, Dia. The joy on your face… It's infectious!"The unicorn blushed at the compliment. "Th-thank you. I'm sorry if it's unbecoming of me.""No need to apologise. Everyone around here is always so rigid. Seeing you so unabashedly happy is… a breath of fresh air."Dia felt a smile forming on her face. The queen was always so kind to her. Dia may have not been able to remember where she came from, but she was ever-so thankful that she had ended up in a place with somebody as wonderful as Queen Laverne. There was a darkness that came from being the royal pet, but the queen made it all worth it for Dia.Laverne continued, "You've been attempting to mix magic with teas lately, haven't you?"Dia nodded. "Healing magic helps when I'm in pain."And while that was true, the tea could only do so much for Dia. It helped with her aches and the stiffness in her joints—all the things that came from living in a new body.But it never got rid of the hunger.Tea was delicious. It was sweet and warm and incredibly comforting, but it would never satiate her. There was always an empty feeling in her stomach, a growl within her that she could never get rid of.Dia was hungry again.And the queen could always tell. Nobody could read Dia like she could—Laverne could tell better than anyone. She would always notice the change in Dia's demeanour, no matter how subtle it may have been. Dia would sometimes try and hide it, but Laverne wasn't blind. She knew her all too well."We need to get you some food."She and Dia were both aware of the fact a regular meal wouldn't help. Only one thing ever filled her—red meat.Silently, Laverne got to her feet, glanced over towards the bushes where Seraphim was lurking and gave a nod to dismiss her. Once the hound had wandered off, Laverne requested Dia to follow her."Come with me," she smiled softly. "I know exactly what you need."
There was a large scullery on the lowest level of the palace. It was where the cooks kept things like sacks of flour and sugar, as well as dried herbs and even bottles of fine wine. It was also where the royal hunters would hang their kills after they'd been gutted and skinned. They kept the best game down there, for whenever the king had decided to hold any celebratory banquets. But Laverne figured they wouldn't notice if a venison leg or two went missing."We really don't have to do this, Your Highness," Dia whispered, quietly trotting along behind Laverne as they descended the stairs."But you're hungry, aren't you?""Well, yes… But…" Dia's soft voice trailed off. "W-won't we get in trouble?""And who would dare scold their queen?" Laverne smirked.There were no other words exchanged until they came to the scullery doors situated at the bottom of the stairwell. The cooks never bothered locking it, so Dia and Laverne were able to waltz right on in.The smell hit Dia first. Buried beneath the scent of exotic spices and damp wood was the unmistakable odor of blood. In the back of the scullery, hanging from a large hook attached to a rusty metal pipe, was a huge leg of wild venison—thick, succulent, and marbled with fat."Go, eat! Quickly now," Laverne urged, "Before the cooks get back.""I really shouldn't, Your Highness."Laverne sighed. "Dia," her voice had turned stern. "As your queen, I insist you go and eat that venison."If the queen had ordered it, Dia had no choice but to obey.The unicorn took a step forward, then another, then another. Soon she was standing beneath the leg of meat, it hanging over her like a pendulum. She gingerly placed her hand against it. It was cold to the touch.Dia looked back at Laverne. In the dark, it was hard to make out her face, but she could see well enough to tell she nodded.Taking a breath so deep it pulled at the golden thread in her chest, Dia lunged forward and sunk her fangs in.It hit her.At last.Fulfilment.For a brief moment, the shame she had been feeling melted away. Dia didn't see the blood staining her snowy hair, how her sharp teeth tore apart the flesh, or even her beloved queen watching as she feasted. She just saw food. She saw the meat that would remedy her painful hunger. The only thing that seemed to fill the void inside.Dia ate until her jaw ached and her white hide had turned a dirty shade of pink. She slowly came out of her frenzy, and when she found herself back in reality, there Laverne was, watching her. The deer leg was not much for than a few threads of meat hanging from the bone, with a few faint teeth marks carved into it."I… I…" Something heavy hit Dia then. She was ashamed to have shown that side of herself to Laverne. The bone dropped out of her hands and landed on the cold stone floor with a light thump. Dia coiled back in horror, tears beginning to well up in her eyes.But Laverne simply knelt to her level, unconcerned about the blood that got on her shoes or the bottom of her gown. She leaned in, cupping Dia's dirtied face in her hands and pulling her towards her."You feel better now, right Dia?" she asked. She placed a kiss on the unicorn's forehead and stroked the tears from her eyes.She was so warm. So soft and lovely and she smelled so nice to Dia. For some reason, it made her start to cry even harder. But Laverne never let go. She would hold Dia for as long as she possibly could.For the first time in what felt like forever, Dia felt full.
CLAM CHOWDER
I've never been the best cook.I'm not bad by any means. But my culinary prowess extends mostly to being able to replicate a few recipes handed down from my dear old Nana (rest her soul) or piecing together whatever shows up in the HelloFresh box delivered to my door every week.Like I said, not bad. Just not great either.After watching Plastic Cow, I started trying to find my place in that grand analogy. Ultimately, I realised I’m probably Mark—the well-meaning Uber Eats guy who wants to help, but keeps feeling like everything going wrong is his fault. Every restaurant closure, every bad order… I feel that.But there’s a part where Mark and I differ.At the end, when the door finally opens and I see Vox Akuma for what he really is, I don’t want to scream and run away. I hesitate, but I think I’d like to stay and finish what was started through his apartment door.I do, however, hand over the burger in the bag.Because that's what Vox ordered. And I need to do my job.I’m a delivery man, not his nutritionist. I don't know his specific dietary requirements. And I don’t need to know them. His allergies, his tastes... That's not something a delivery guy ever needs to know about their customer. That's between Vox and the people cooking his food.Yet, he's already shared some of those preferences with us.Every Kindred knows that Vox doesn't like fishy food.Sure, over the past two years we've seen his tastes change slightly. He's found a love of caviar, and he has told us that while in Japan he discovered he actually really likes certain types of sushi. (In his words, he doesn't hate seafood—just British seafood).But ultimately, Vox still doesn't like fishy food.I’m not his personal chef, but even I know it wouldn’t go down well if I served him a bowl of clam chowder.So instead, much like Mark, I’m just going to deliver another burger to his door.I know that it’s just shitty fast food. It’s tasty and filling enough, but it’s also a bunch of sub-par ingredients and empty calories, and it’s already getting cold and stale.But what should I bring him instead? I really don’t know anymore. Maybe it isn't my job to know, but the orders keep coming through, almost every day. I want to fulfil them if I can—doing this job does make me happy.Wait, he’s ordering burgers, right? Maybe I read the instructions wrong...?Sorry, I’ve never been very good at any job I’ve ever done.I guess I know one thing though—I should never deliver Vox Akuma clam chowder.Or at least, I'd like to believe I know that. But he surprised us with the caviar, so who really knows?And then, there’s that darn Plastic Cow.It would be disingenuous of me to say none of us want the cow to moo again—sometimes I even catch myself wanting to hear it just one more time, because it's familiar and soothing. But the kinder among us know not to ask for it because we know it's selfish, unfair, and, ultimately, unsustainable. It's not good for the cow.What is good is giving milk.Really, we are all more than happy to drink the milk—a lot of us want to drink the milk. God, we are fucking thrilled at the idea of drinking the milk. And not just because we are thirsty, no. But because we like our Plastic Cow. She's been a good cow to us, we like to believe the milk will be of high quality, and we genuinely want to see her thriving. We don't want her to die.But in-order for us to drink the milk, we need to know that it's safe.I think back to this one night I woke up craving a glass of the stuff. In my half-asleep state, I staggered to my kitchen, sleepily grabbed the bottle from my fridge, poured myself a cup, and took a big gulp.… Only to spit it out immediately at the realization it had gone very, very sour.Maybe it was my fault for not checking the expiry date in my drowsy stupor, but it was too dark to see the label, and I’ve always been good about not letting my groceries go bad. I’d never let a bottle of milk turn rancid.Yet, it still happened. There I was, rinsing my mouth out under the tap at three in the morning.Even after that traumatic experience, I still found myself wanting a drink of milk. Looking into the fluorescent light of my open fridge, I saw I had another bottle, unopened, sitting on the inside of the door. But the expiry date on that one had smudged off, and I just couldn’t bring myself to risk it a second time. Not after what I had tasted before.So, I returned to the warmth of my bed, still craving that glass of milk.You can probably tell from that story I’m one of those ‘filthy milk drinkers’, as the internet calls us. And, yeah, I am! I love milk. But not just by itself—milk is so versatile. Cheese, ice cream, yogurt, panna cotta if you're feeling fancy...That's actually one of the more self-centred reasons I like the Plastic Cow. In the rare moments she allowed herself to give her milk, we as a community were so encouraged to make our own dishes out of it. Our own sauces and desserts... Maybe even our own chowders, within reason.I'm still so excited to try her milk, now that she's decided to stop mooing. Truly! I think a lot of us are. After all, this is what's best for her.I just fear I'm only allowed to drink the milk by itself now.Don't get me wrong, as I said, I love a glass of milk. I just like the idea that I can still make my own things with it too. In fact, she used to encourage that.But if that's going to upset or disturb the Plastic Cow now, I will stop.If I'm a bad delivery driver, I can at least try be an okay farmer.I have been trying. But lately it feels like everything I do is still wrong.Maybe I really am just like Mark.But back to my original point—I’m not a great cook.If I want to make anything decent by anybody’s standards, I need a recipe to follow. Whether it be my nana's, one from HelloFresh, or somewhere else.You know.... my nana had an amazing one for mac and cheese, but she never wrote it down for me before she died. I don’t think I could replicate it off of memory alone, either.What a shame.