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  • INTRODUCTION

    πŸ‘‹ What's up, worlds? Y'all can call me CD!
    Welcome to my page! I'm a 27 y/o. lady from southeastern USA with too many concepts and not enough emojis, and I've been creating for over ten years. I consider myself an advanced-lit writer with a penchant for letting things age like wine, and I'm seeking partners with a similar skillset!

    πŸ€” What am I looking for in a general sense?
    Friendship! Headcanons! Rapidfire! I'm the kind of gal that needs a personal connection to stay invested - mood boards, song playlists, character gushing - all that fun jazz. If you feel the same way, consider approaching me with your wants and needs. I'm always happy to hear them out!

    πŸ‘€ What am I looking for in a partner sense?
    Aliens! Cryptids! Supers! I have a preference for established characters with good or neutral alignments, but I'm open to more devious ones willing to work with the cast and crew. Most of my things are multiverse-friendly, so if you want to bring one of your own in, we can find a way!

  • ROMANCE & NSFW

    πŸ’• What is my stance on romance and NSFW?
    Character romances can absolutely happen! However, they must be the result of a slow-burn with good chemistry. I'll only roleplay FxM or MxF romances with writers I get to know first, but I won't write explicit sexytimes. Please don't come to me for ERP or for the expectation of romance!

  • CONTACT INFO

    πŸ’¬ Interested? Please send me a message!
    Include a little about yourself in your introduction! I'd also love to hear what may have caught your interest, as well as any characters you feel would be a good match. Once we hit it off, I might ask for some sample writing (you can find mine below). All good? Contact me when you're ready!
    Discord
    crystaldisc (preferred contact)
    		 Email
    crystaldiscscripts@gmail.com

  • PREFERNCES

    πŸ”ž β€’ 18+ partners
    β€’ third-person
    β€’ past-tense

  • YES, ALWAYS

    βœ… β€’ supernatural
    β€’ high fantasy
    β€’ alien sci-fi

  • SURE, MAYBE

    ⚠️ β€’ slice of life
    β€’ historical
    β€’ romance

  • NOPE, NEVER

    β›” β€’ pregnancies
    β€’ real parasites
    β€’ sexual organs

  • PLOTS & PROMPTS

    πŸ“ Find my plot hooks and story prompts here!

  • SAMPLE WRITING

    Under darkness, it hunted. Like lightning, it struck.

    As the darkest day of the year crept further from its hole and upon man, so did the monsters that hid beneath its belly. Heavy footfalls echoed down the increasingly empty streets, followed by the rush of crisp autumnal winds carrying the faint chorus of thunder. Some would've called it ominous. The man known as Harrison found it far more terrifying.

    Shallow gasps intermingled with a light pattering of rain, each of their steps sending an upheaval of grimy water, but dirtied boots were the least of his worries as his partner got snapped into the air like a ragdoll. Any pleas or screams she may have had lingering on the tip of her tongue were silenced with a sickening splatter of crimson on the pavement.

    No time to care nor any inkling of pity for the woman was present. With an increased drive to survive, the man rushed past a fallen street light, which had the unfortunate effect of leaving whatever followed in the dark, its winged shadow beating furiously for blood.

    Up ahead lied an abandoned fishery - the designated safehouse for his people (although he loathed to call them such) and their endeavors. "Iron!" the man blurted, arms flailing and seemingly insane as he made his approach. "It doesn't like iron!"

    Fortunately, someone heard him. Unfortunately, they didn't listen. One of the guards, a boorish man of impressive size, slipped out from behind one of the old delivery garages. A war cry bellowed from his throat, loud enough to rival the excessive number of shots that cracked through the night at an invisible foe.

    Harrison took this opportunity to dive inside the relative safety of the fishery just as his meathead friend laid his eyes on the last light he'd ever see. Whoever he was mattered about as much as his smoldering remains did now.

    Click for additional samples!

    Every night, she struggled. Most people relaxed when they fell asleep. Some had nightmares. Others thrived. Azura, however, could never seem to stop fighting.

    Lightning shot through the cold, black sky like a scream in the dark, and where there was lightning, thunder sang not too far behind. Mangled cacti reached for the tempestuous heavens, tempted by the empty promise of a rain that would never come. Be it of a dream or not, a dry storm in the desert was no place for a girl from an island.

    Somewhere in the near distance, the snarling of a large animal – mammalian, by the sounds of it – echoed between the winding canyon before being abruptly silenced with a sickening crack. That was okay, or so she thought.

    Azura hunted bigger game.

    The circumstances that led her to this dreamwalk didn't so much matter as the damage caused by the creature that lurked within its space. Why it took an interest in stealing babies straight from the crib, she did not know – only that it needed to go away for good.

    Something akin to bug-like warbling grew louder to where she stood in wait, carried on the faint winds of change along with the floating, ethereal specks that permeated the lower plane. With her bow drawn and back against the sandy cliff, barely did the archer breathe as she swiveled around the corner and took her aim-

    -only to realize just how close the nightmarish thing was to her bluff. Barely did Azura even get the chance to process its features before it swung a webbed, talon-tipped hand at her face. The surprise alone was enough to scare even the hardiest of hunters, but to an apprentice dreamwalker, the sudden jolt brought her back to the waking world.


    Yellow moon-kissed clouds hung high over the steel and stone skyscrapers, casting misshapen figures onto the concrete of what was a normally bright and pristine city - or so it seemed on the surface. For all its virtues, there was no denying that Los Lunares had something horrific lingering just underneath its silver façade.

    The night was nothing compared to the evils of the world. Like a foul wind carrying the scent of death and decay on its tendrils, something wicked came this way.

    With every step he could feel the ground trying to slip beneath his feet. With every whiff came a twitch through his dead sinuses. Purposeful footfalls echoed down the empty campus, followed by the rush of a light winter wind carrying the faint chorus of thunder. Some would’ve called it quite ominous. The patron known as Mr. Morales, however, found the accompanying scent of blood far more disconcerting.

    Lights red and blue flashed ahead, briefly illuminating the glint of yellow tape that surrounded the gazebo in the green of the campus. Oscar ground to halt in front of the blockade. A slight frown found its way onto his face, followed by the flick of reddish-brown eyes as they scoped the area. By the looks of things, the scene had been secured for a while. No bodies, no blood…

    …None that was obvious to human senses, at least.

    Curiosity unsatisfied, he maneuvered over to the vehicle on watch and lightly tapped at the window using the back of his hand. The driver’s side rolled down, revealing a vigilant, if not bored woman in uniform – one of the campus officers. β€œYes?” she questioned, forcing a polite tone through a thin veil of fatigue. β€œHow can I help you?”

    Oscar began to fiddle with his tie. β€œThank you, miss-” a quick glance at her badge revealed her surname, β€œ-Hansley. I know it’s awfully late, but I was wondering what happened here?”

    The officer eyed him cautiously. β€œSome students were found dead,” she revealed.

    β€œAh.” Tense silence ensued before he broke it again. β€œHow many? How did they die?”

    Hansley shifted somewhat uncomfortably in her seat before flashing an apologetic smile. β€œSorry, sir, but I’m not allowed to give out much beyond that.”

    Tsk. Oscar receded to evaluate his options. Of course he wanted to know, especially given the eve of such an important event, but powers of persuasion other than mundane coercion were beyond his specialized skill set. Short-term memory fog? One-word commands? Sure, but not this.

    What a conundrum.


    Glittering stones and other bioluminescence twinkled overhead. Stagnant waters teased the dry, withered foliage, and the only winds that tickled the senses were ones that passed through natural vents high above. Needless to say, such little life existed so far below, and what managed to survive only did so by the skin of its teeth.

    The clicking of talons against cobblestone echoed down the increasingly empty market. Wires and rope crisscrossed from the roofs in a spider's web from which paper lanterns and clothes hung, while the sandstone buildings themselves seemed to veer inwards, listening and ever-hungry, much like the denizens that inhabited the endless deep.

    Jack shuffled his way along, the tips of his faded tunic just barely swishing against the ground, torn and frayed at the edges from use and dappled with dark stains. One hand held the other, both tucked neatly against his chest. A face scarf wrapped comfortably just above his nose, while a hat concealed all but two bright green eyes that almost seemed to reflect light from under the shadow of its brim.

    A slim window had to be made, one that ranged somewhere between when he woke up and when the rest of the bazaar decided to close their businesses - and for sleep medicine, ironically enough. What happened when one smashed a round nocturnal predator into the square-shaped hole that was a daily desk job? A helluva messed-up circadian rhythm. Jack barely slept. The resulting migraines were unbearable, and he needed the strong stuff.

    The alchemist's clicking and shuffling came to an end outside of an apothecary, Uncommon Taste. A gloved hand reached out, wrapping around the handle, and as soon as he cracked open the door, he smelled it.

    Blood. He smelled blood.

    While the thought of his doctor was worrisome in of itself, more intense happened to be the indication that wasn't alone. A puff of green fire whisked between three rows of fangs, briefly illuminating leonine features in the darkness. A warning? An invitation? Maybe both.

  • CURRENT STATUS

    β€’ selectively RPing!
    β€’ working part-time
    β€’ two spring classes

  • ELECTIVE THINGS

    β€’ calling via Discord
    β€’ artists and meme'rs
    β€’ TV and movie nights

  • OTHER HOBBIES

    β€’ cycling and swimming
    β€’ keeping bugs as pets
    β€’ survival videogames