- Joined
- Mar 21, 2025
- Messages
- 4
I bet you think, girl what the helly? But hear me out! you cannot tell me there aren't people here that loved that once show from years back, still like it, but think it can be so, so good if it was produced for adults? That the possibilities, the drama could be endless! It's Lego ninjago for me. I would love to write in this universe and tackle its problems, write it more grown-up/dramatic/more realistic/serious version of it.
So i decided to just give it a shot, who knows right? Maybe there are more dorks here.
In short:
All characters are 21+
Tags: Lego Ninjago
Pairings: MxF, FxM, FxF
Key Details: Literate/Novella/3rdpov/serious.
-----------------------------------
Me:
- Hi I'm Dotty, im 21 years old, go by she/her and i'm in the CET-time zone. Looking for some kind people to rp and chat with!
What and who I'm looking for:
What I’m looking for OOC:
- I'm here for a fun time. I like to share TikToks, make Pinterest moodboards, and yap about something dumb that happened at work. I shut down when I only receive dry messages or replies just once a week OOC. I don't want this to feel like a chore, y'know? Of course, we all have lives, but keeping each other up to date is appreciated! I want to plot and have fun with someone who likes to bounce ideas, even small ones.
Pairing/Preference Info
- FxM and FxF are what I’m most familiar with! I especially enjoy when our OCs are friends or have some established connection.
(this is a ocxcc double-up)
Characters I can write:
1. Nya (pls)
2. Skylor
3. Cole (pls)
4. Zane
5. Jay
6. Lloyd (least preferred tho)
Characters you can write (ideally):
1. Kai (pls?)
2. Cole
If you'd rather write cxc for your side:
- Jay x Nya → I prefer to write Nya
Note: I try to write as canon as possible ofc, i just don't like overly fanon personalities sorry. Overly soft, crying, or ‘smoll/blushes 24/7’ personalities stay away from me pls.
Thank you for reading! Send me a DM directly with some basics about you. I’ll only reply to people who introduce themselves like I did here- just a "hi I'm interested wanna rp?" already tells me we’re not a good fit and you’re probably not an adv-lit writer/chatter. Idk, tell me something fun if you want.
I swear other than that im a chill person T-T
So i decided to just give it a shot, who knows right? Maybe there are more dorks here.
In short:
All characters are 21+
Tags: Lego Ninjago
Pairings: MxF, FxM, FxF
Key Details: Literate/Novella/3rdpov/serious.
-----------------------------------
Me:
- Hi I'm Dotty, im 21 years old, go by she/her and i'm in the CET-time zone. Looking for some kind people to rp and chat with!
What and who I'm looking for:
- Long-term roleplay
- Lit to adv-lit, 3rd POV. Think 1000–2000 words on Discord just to give an idea. I love to write details and surroundings and hope to find a partner who enjoys that too. (pls? i'm dying for the people that like to write scenes in detail, that don't skip from one room to another and just *punches him, jumps, high kick ect)
- Action, adventure, fantasy, romance, angst, mature themes, gore/violence ( if it fits the scene) and just a itsybitsy tiny bit of romantic nsfw.
- I love writing side characters and hope you do too! You’ll often catch me adding in little background convos or interactions to make the world feel more alive. That way, our characters aren't just talking to each other on a loop.
- English isn’t my first language! I only check grammar for the actual story text and wish the same from you- no pressure for OOC to be perfect!
- Canon setting is preferred (Ninjago universe), However fair warning, i am that type that has only seen till season 7 (and yes i loved it idc what people say) and no i am not up to date to what happens after like at all.
- Naturally, characters should be 21+.
- FC = realistic/art realistic
- WRITERS 20+
- i really really like to think off headcanons, whether it is about what clothing style someone wears, or their love-language is, or how a cc acts.
What I’m looking for OOC:
- I'm here for a fun time. I like to share TikToks, make Pinterest moodboards, and yap about something dumb that happened at work. I shut down when I only receive dry messages or replies just once a week OOC. I don't want this to feel like a chore, y'know? Of course, we all have lives, but keeping each other up to date is appreciated! I want to plot and have fun with someone who likes to bounce ideas, even small ones.
Pairing/Preference Info
- FxM and FxF are what I’m most familiar with! I especially enjoy when our OCs are friends or have some established connection.
(this is a ocxcc double-up)
Characters I can write:1. Nya (pls)
2. Skylor
3. Cole (pls)
4. Zane
5. Jay
6. Lloyd (least preferred tho)
Characters you can write (ideally):1. Kai (pls?)
2. Cole
If you'd rather write cxc for your side:
- Jay x Nya → I prefer to write Nya
Note: I try to write as canon as possible ofc, i just don't like overly fanon personalities sorry. Overly soft, crying, or ‘smoll/blushes 24/7’ personalities stay away from me pls.
Thank you for reading! Send me a DM directly with some basics about you. I’ll only reply to people who introduce themselves like I did here- just a "hi I'm interested wanna rp?" already tells me we’re not a good fit and you’re probably not an adv-lit writer/chatter. Idk, tell me something fun if you want.
I swear other than that im a chill person T-T
1. This. Is. It. The first day to the rest of his life.
Around him, faces were locked in grim determination, every cadet standing tall, teeth clenched, eyes forward. Some were trembling, hands twitching in fear or nervousness. Not Jean Kirschtein. His gaze was steady, his posture rigid but confident. He wasn’t here to play soldier. No, he was here for something much bigger. This was his chance, a ticket to a better life, he would take it He wasn’t here to die for glory like some idiot. He didn’t need to have some grand, noble cause. He just needed to get to the top. He knew exactly what he wanted. No room for those idiots who were already daydreaming or stuttering in their boots. This wasn’t a game. Jean wasn’t here to screw around. He’d work harder than anyone. Climb over every damn one of them if he had to. The Military Police would be his future. Nothing would stop him.
All around him, the other cadets looked like they were about to buckle. Their faces were pale, shoulders tense, eyes distant. Some, he was sure, wouldn’t make it through the day. Others, like the poor bastards who couldn’t hold their ground, would drop out soon enough. And their instructor was trying to scare them. Keith Shadis lizard eyes locked onto Jeans brown ones. He didn't break eye contact. A heavy shadow fell over him.. Jean didn't flinch. He just shifted his gaze upward. “What do we have here?” The man’s voice was low, assessing the boy. Jean didn’t hesitate. He squared his shoulders and let a smile stretch across his face. Loud and clear, he announced, “Jean Kirschtein, from Trost District!” His voice rang out, confident, loud enough for every cadet around him to hear. A name to remember. Shadis’s eyes narrowed. The instructor stepped closer, looming over him, his breath rank with whatever he’d eaten for breakfast. “Why are you here?” he growled. Jean didn't flinch. He wouldn't fall for his tricks. He knew exactly why he was here. He'd thought about it, rehearsed it. “To join the Military Police Regiment,” he said, his chest puffing out slightly.
A slight smirk tugged at the corner of Shadis’s mouth. “You want to live in the interior, huh?” He scratched his chin, his eyes scanning Jean, sizing him up. His chest thudded. That was it. Shadis got it. There it was the moment of understanding. He understood what Jean was about. The man was smart. Jean’s smile widened, but then before he could even process it a sharp pain exploded across his forehead. His vision blurred as something hard and unforgiving cracked against his skull. His knees buckled. What the hell...? The world spun for a moment. His hands flew to his head, fingers pressing into the spot where the blow had landed. “Who said you could sit?” Shadis’s yelled. “If you can’t handle this, forget about the Military Police. You’ll never make it!” He gritted his teeth, trying to steady himself as the world tilted around him. Fuck. He almost lost his breakfast, but he swallowed it down. Slowly, Jean pushed himself back to his feet, hand still rubbing the back of his head, trying to numb the pulse that beat at his temples. Some of the other cadets were snickering, too afraid to laugh outright. With a sharp glance, he shot them a glare that could’ve melted steel. He mouthed a single word, barely audible: “What?” They shut up quick. Shit, that was humiliating. Did the guy really have to headbutt him like that, right in front of everyone? They’ll regret laughing when he tops them. This was just the first day, no need to get worked up. He’d prove himself soon enough. The sun was a bastard today. Sweat clung to the back of Jean’s neck. Shadis was still barking, pacing the line with that wild look in his eye, the one that meant someone was about to get headbutted into another dimension. Then... crunch. Jean blinked. What the hell was that? He turned his head just a fraction, careful not to draw attention, and there she was, some girl. Eating. She chomped through a potato like she’d been raised by wolves, loud, mouth working overtime. Bits of starch clung to her cheeks. Jean stared, dumbfounded.
When the commander approached her asking what she was doing. She broke the thing in half like it was holy bread and held it out to the commandant like she was offering peace to a war god. The man looked flabbergasted, taking the potato in his hand.
Jean’s stomach growled so loud he almost elbowed himself in the gut to shut it up. He could taste the damn thing in his imagination. The entire field was dead silent, watching. His face twitched. Once. Twice. It was almost scary. Then he exploded. “LAPS. AROUND THE FIELD. UNTIL SUNDOWN. NO DINNER” each word was said louder than the last one. The mun turned around in a venomous turn “Dismissed!” That was the most unhinged shit he’d ever seen. Were these the people he would be with for the next years? Day dreamers? Hungry beasts? Wannabe hero's? The sun was too hot, the uniform already sticking to his back, and he was more than ready to strip out of it and get some food in his system. But just as he turned, a firm hand clapped onto his shoulder. Not aggressive. Just solid. Jean stopped short, half-expecting another idiot or worse, another round of Shadis. Standing beside him was a guy a little taller than him, with a soft look in his eyes. His smile was genuine, and the freckles dotting his face made him look weirdly harmless. Dark, neatly trimmed hair. Relaxed posture. Friendly. That was the word. Suspiciously friendly. “Hey,” the guy said, hand falling away casually. “Marco Bodt.” Jean blinked. “Okay?” Marco let out a small chuckle. “I overheard you earlier saying you’re aiming for the Military Police. Me too.”
Jean squinted at him, gauging. Was this guy serious? No weird twitch? No twitchy idealism in the eyes? Just... normal? He gave a half-shrug,“Yeah. Planning to make something out of it.. So, MP sounds just right.” Marco nodded, smile still there. “Me too. To serve the greatest man. Makes sense.. Figured I’d say hey.” Jean tilted his head slightly. So maybe he was a little bit of an idealist. “Jean Kirschtein,” he finally said. “From Trost. And yeah. We'll see.” Apparently, they’d been assigned to the same barracks. He wasn’t looking where he was going, too busy with the now conversation with Marco until he slammed into someone and made that person stumble a little.
Around him, faces were locked in grim determination, every cadet standing tall, teeth clenched, eyes forward. Some were trembling, hands twitching in fear or nervousness. Not Jean Kirschtein. His gaze was steady, his posture rigid but confident. He wasn’t here to play soldier. No, he was here for something much bigger. This was his chance, a ticket to a better life, he would take it He wasn’t here to die for glory like some idiot. He didn’t need to have some grand, noble cause. He just needed to get to the top. He knew exactly what he wanted. No room for those idiots who were already daydreaming or stuttering in their boots. This wasn’t a game. Jean wasn’t here to screw around. He’d work harder than anyone. Climb over every damn one of them if he had to. The Military Police would be his future. Nothing would stop him.
All around him, the other cadets looked like they were about to buckle. Their faces were pale, shoulders tense, eyes distant. Some, he was sure, wouldn’t make it through the day. Others, like the poor bastards who couldn’t hold their ground, would drop out soon enough. And their instructor was trying to scare them. Keith Shadis lizard eyes locked onto Jeans brown ones. He didn't break eye contact. A heavy shadow fell over him.. Jean didn't flinch. He just shifted his gaze upward. “What do we have here?” The man’s voice was low, assessing the boy. Jean didn’t hesitate. He squared his shoulders and let a smile stretch across his face. Loud and clear, he announced, “Jean Kirschtein, from Trost District!” His voice rang out, confident, loud enough for every cadet around him to hear. A name to remember. Shadis’s eyes narrowed. The instructor stepped closer, looming over him, his breath rank with whatever he’d eaten for breakfast. “Why are you here?” he growled. Jean didn't flinch. He wouldn't fall for his tricks. He knew exactly why he was here. He'd thought about it, rehearsed it. “To join the Military Police Regiment,” he said, his chest puffing out slightly.
A slight smirk tugged at the corner of Shadis’s mouth. “You want to live in the interior, huh?” He scratched his chin, his eyes scanning Jean, sizing him up. His chest thudded. That was it. Shadis got it. There it was the moment of understanding. He understood what Jean was about. The man was smart. Jean’s smile widened, but then before he could even process it a sharp pain exploded across his forehead. His vision blurred as something hard and unforgiving cracked against his skull. His knees buckled. What the hell...? The world spun for a moment. His hands flew to his head, fingers pressing into the spot where the blow had landed. “Who said you could sit?” Shadis’s yelled. “If you can’t handle this, forget about the Military Police. You’ll never make it!” He gritted his teeth, trying to steady himself as the world tilted around him. Fuck. He almost lost his breakfast, but he swallowed it down. Slowly, Jean pushed himself back to his feet, hand still rubbing the back of his head, trying to numb the pulse that beat at his temples. Some of the other cadets were snickering, too afraid to laugh outright. With a sharp glance, he shot them a glare that could’ve melted steel. He mouthed a single word, barely audible: “What?” They shut up quick. Shit, that was humiliating. Did the guy really have to headbutt him like that, right in front of everyone? They’ll regret laughing when he tops them. This was just the first day, no need to get worked up. He’d prove himself soon enough. The sun was a bastard today. Sweat clung to the back of Jean’s neck. Shadis was still barking, pacing the line with that wild look in his eye, the one that meant someone was about to get headbutted into another dimension. Then... crunch. Jean blinked. What the hell was that? He turned his head just a fraction, careful not to draw attention, and there she was, some girl. Eating. She chomped through a potato like she’d been raised by wolves, loud, mouth working overtime. Bits of starch clung to her cheeks. Jean stared, dumbfounded.
When the commander approached her asking what she was doing. She broke the thing in half like it was holy bread and held it out to the commandant like she was offering peace to a war god. The man looked flabbergasted, taking the potato in his hand.
Jean’s stomach growled so loud he almost elbowed himself in the gut to shut it up. He could taste the damn thing in his imagination. The entire field was dead silent, watching. His face twitched. Once. Twice. It was almost scary. Then he exploded. “LAPS. AROUND THE FIELD. UNTIL SUNDOWN. NO DINNER” each word was said louder than the last one. The mun turned around in a venomous turn “Dismissed!” That was the most unhinged shit he’d ever seen. Were these the people he would be with for the next years? Day dreamers? Hungry beasts? Wannabe hero's? The sun was too hot, the uniform already sticking to his back, and he was more than ready to strip out of it and get some food in his system. But just as he turned, a firm hand clapped onto his shoulder. Not aggressive. Just solid. Jean stopped short, half-expecting another idiot or worse, another round of Shadis. Standing beside him was a guy a little taller than him, with a soft look in his eyes. His smile was genuine, and the freckles dotting his face made him look weirdly harmless. Dark, neatly trimmed hair. Relaxed posture. Friendly. That was the word. Suspiciously friendly. “Hey,” the guy said, hand falling away casually. “Marco Bodt.” Jean blinked. “Okay?” Marco let out a small chuckle. “I overheard you earlier saying you’re aiming for the Military Police. Me too.”
Jean squinted at him, gauging. Was this guy serious? No weird twitch? No twitchy idealism in the eyes? Just... normal? He gave a half-shrug,“Yeah. Planning to make something out of it.. So, MP sounds just right.” Marco nodded, smile still there. “Me too. To serve the greatest man. Makes sense.. Figured I’d say hey.” Jean tilted his head slightly. So maybe he was a little bit of an idealist. “Jean Kirschtein,” he finally said. “From Trost. And yeah. We'll see.” Apparently, they’d been assigned to the same barracks. He wasn’t looking where he was going, too busy with the now conversation with Marco until he slammed into someone and made that person stumble a little.