All of my Ninjago AUs because I am insane & autistic + it's fun
(disclaimer, a vast majority of these focus on cole brookstone because favouritism bias)
My Nonexistant Friend - Ghost!Cole AU where Day of the Departed...did not end so well. He's trapped in the Airjitzu Temple and is effectivly erased from existance. He suffers in nonexistant puragtory for 300 years until Lloyd's future students move in and the Master of Earth of this new era befriends the ghost. Fluff, feels & the power of friendship ensue
Perma Ghost - Ninjago but Cole remains a ghost. To prevent him from fading he anchors himself to friendship bracelets all the ninja + Wu & Pixal wear. He can't stray to far from anyone wearing a friendship bracelet but he doesn't mind he's always with a friend.
Curseworlds - Possession bad end, heavily inspired by The Star from Fionna & Cake. The Preeminent has won and has cursed all the realms and ghosts torment the remaining living souls. A small faction of survivors is fighting to take out the Queen of the Cursed, but it's very difficult with her two princes causing havoc. Anyone order evil Sandstorm?
Reverse - An alt Ninjago where Wu was bit by the Great Devourer instead of Garmadon. Wu becomes an evil dictator, Ninjago is in a lawless era, the og ninja are all traumatised child soldiers made to do Wu's bidding, Garmadon and a few familiar faces are fighting back.
Genderswap - As it says, everyone is genderswapped. But it's like Fionna & Cake where some stuff is different because of the swapped genders.
Elemental Anacondrai - Chen decides to be extra twisted and mark all the loosers of the Tournament with the Anacondrai Mark as a sign of ownership. When the cult is transformed into Anacondrai, they too. So for the last two episodes of ToE, Skylor, Karlof, Gravis, Bolobo, Ash, Cole, Jacob, Chamile & Tox are turned into Anacondrai.
Constrictai!Cole - Cole isn't dehypnotised at the end of Home and is taken prisoner by the Hypnobrai. When the Fangpyre are free and team up with the Hypnobrai, Skales has them turn Cole into a Serpentine. He ends up a Constrictai. The ninja end up rescueing him durring Can of Worms, remove the hypnotism with some anti-venom tea, and now Cole must adjust to his new reptilian body. Lots of Glacier
Lost But Never Found - AU where Cole ends up in the Land of Lost things after running away from his school. He becomes a Finder and is living his best life with his new found family. Sora also ends up there after running away and Cole adopts her
Vampire!Cole - Cole ends up becoming a vampire after getting attacked by one. Lots of hyjinks & vampire hunting (hunting other vampires, not Cole)
Wu Adopts Cole - Wu finds Cole a lot earlier then canon, at 10 years old. He's an orphan, his mum passed from illness and his dad drank himself to death. Wu raises Cole, trains him in his Elemental Power, very wholesome Dad Wu stuff.
Amphibijago - Ninjago + Amphibia crossover. Cole, Kai and Jay take the places of the Calamity Girls and end up in Amphibia. Cole ends up with the frogs, Kai ends up with the toads, Jay ends up with the newts. What could go wrong
The Oni House - Ninjago + The Owl House, basically the Owl House but with Ninjago characters. Cole is a troubled teen about to be sent off to a performing arts boarding school when he ends up in a realm of witches, demons and magic after wandering through a portal. There he meets Lord Garmadon, the most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles and his baby dragon demon Rocky. Lava time
Ninja in Eorzea - Ninjago + FFXIV. The ninja play the criticly acclaimed MMORPG Final Fantasy XIV with an extended free trail with unlimited playtime that allows them to play the award winning expansions Heavensward and Stormblood, and they get suckef in...litterally like Prime Empire.
Miraculous: Tales of Firefly & Charcole Cat - Ninjago + Miraculous. Ninjago City is being ravaged by supervillains created by someone known as the Dark Lord. But new heros have arisen, known as Firefly & Charcole Cat, ready to protect the city from the Dark Lord while trying to balance school & dating. HONEYCOMB MY OTP
Age of Elements - My original Ninjago story set 300 years after canon. Lloyd is training 7 new ninja, the Elemental Masters of Fire, Earth, Wind, Nature, Water, Lightning and Ice to protect the world because a prophetic vision of the furure said so. He's trying his best to make sure they aren't super traumatised by having them keep their ninja identity a secret, not keeping secrets about the FSM family lore, having them go to school, but trauma as a Ninja is a canon event. Got 18 seasons planned and counting
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FFXIV swap gift for @irisopranta! I thought the suggested fairy tale theme sounded perfect for Iris, so I hope you enjoy this loosely Cinderella-inspired take on her and Stephanivien's first meeting!
Iris adjusted the powder blue dress hanging on the mannequin, admiring the way the fabric caught the light with a subtle shimmer. Truly, it was one of the finest gowns she’d ever made, and it was almost a shame she’d already agreed to sell it.
It had started when a donation from one of Ishgard’s wealthier families had arrived in the Firmament, materials generously earmarked for the reconstruction work. Well-meaning, certainly, but rather out of touch, as it turned out. The lady of the house who had arranged the donation had sent over an assortment of lush, expensive silks and satins along with a note enthusiastically explaining that she’d wanted to provide the Firmament’s artisans with only the best to work with.
Lovely as they were, they were of little use to the weavers who were occupied with filling orders for sturdy work gloves and coveralls for the other craftspeople.
“We’ll see if we can sell it, I suppose,” one of the supervisors said. “At least get a bit of extra coin to keep things afloat.”
Iris ran her hand over the smooth richness of the cloth. It wasn’t every day she had the opportunity to work with material of this quality, and it seemed an awful shame to waste it. She glanced over at the note from the lady of the house, and an idea occurred to her.
“I think we could get even more if we made something from it. Fabric like this would make an exquisite gown, and we’d have no shortage of prospective buyers among the High Houses.”
The supervisor glanced at the ever-growing pile of orders the weavers had yet to fulfill. “As long as we’re able to keep on top of the work here, I suppose you can do as you like.”
“Of course.” Excitement bubbled up in her. She was happy to use her talents to provide what aid she could, of course, but it had been far too long since she’d had a project where she was allowed so much freedom. She was going to relish this.
* * *
What little free time Iris had was now devoted to dreaming up potential designs, allowing her imagination to run wild with the most indulgent possibilities to do the gorgeous material justice. She worked meticulously, rendering each stitch and detail with loving attention.
The end result was a masterpiece.
The generous donation had allowed her to craft a long, flowing skirt, delicate layers of fabric giving it an almost dreamlike quality. The material was a soft powder blue, decorated with white roses. More flowers decorated the bodice, the off-the-shoulder neckline of the dress accented with a small ruffle.
The supervisor who’d suggested selling the fabric had been popping in on her the past few days, checking up on her progress. Iris couldn’t help but feel proud at the grin that spread over their face when they were presented with the final product.
“I must say, you’ve outdone yourself. We’ll have no trouble finding a buyer, especially since we’re coming up on party season.”
That was true enough. Word had spread even through the Firmament of some noble family or another’s upcoming masquerade ball. Valentione’s Day was nearing, and it seemed that many of Ishgard’s wealthier families went all out with their celebrations.
Iris turned her attention back to the dress. With the freedom to design as she’d pleased, she had created the gown of her dreams, and only now was she seeing the drawback: she’d become quite attached. She’d just have to grin and bear it when the time to sell it arrived; she wouldn’t be able to afford to cover the amount they’d make selling it to one of Ishgard’s noble ladies.
She sighed wistfully. It would be such a shame not to have at least one opportunity to wear it…
Iris allowed herself to daydream over the next few days during her more tedious stretches of work: attending a lavish ball wearing her beautiful dress. A little fairy tale of her very own…
One morning, however, she was adjusting the placement of a slightly crooked button when the supervisor approached her. “Would you say your dress there is ready to sell?”
“I’ll give it another look over once I’ve reattached this button, but yes, everything else should be in order.”
“Well, if you’ve any other finishing touches or last minute repairs to make, you’d best do it tonight. We’ve got a buyer coming to pick it up first thing tomorrow morning.”
She felt an immediate pang of sorrow. This was it, then. Tomorrow she’d have to give the dress up to whichever generous buyer had been found for it.
A young couple passed by, chattering excitedly about the Valentoine masquerade, the young woman hoping she’d be finished with work tonight in time not to miss too much of it.
The masquerade was tonight? With how busy she’d been she’d lost all track of time.
Her eye was drawn back to the dress. She had a mad idea.
Surely, one night of frivolous fun wouldn’t hurt? She could borrow it for the evening, duck out before midnight, and bring it back to their workspace to make sure it was perfectly presentable before the buyer even arrived.
It was bold, certainly, but when would she have another opportunity like this, the ball and the dress coinciding at the perfect moment in time?
She tore her gaze away from the dress and began to plot.
Iris offered to stay behind and tidy up that evening, taking her time neatening up the workspace. When the last of the other weavers had left for the night, she glanced about to make sure she was truly alone before slipping the dress off the mannequin and changing out of her work clothes.
The weavers’ workspace only had a small wall mirror, but as she gave her reflection a once-over, her face broke into a wide grin. She looked like a princess. She put the finishing touches in place: a matching mask she’d spent the day hastily fashioning in between orders, and a flower plucked from the decorative bouquet one of the botanists had brought around tucked behind her ear. Giving herself one last look over, she stepped out into the night.
* * *
There were quite a few people still arriving as she reached the manor where the ball was being held, and she joined the crowd making its way steadily inside. The massive ballroom was alive with activity, the scene as bright and elegant as its occupants. She imagined she could content herself for hours just sitting and staring at all the lovely dresses on display as the other guests walked by.
But that wouldn’t do for tonight. She was here to make the most of her night of indulgence.
At first, she’d worried about getting caught in the act, as it were, but as she made her way around the party she began to relax and enjoy herself. Many of the people who stopped her for a chat or invited her to dance were quite kind, but no one seemed to recognize her. It was a bit awkward dodging the question of which noble house she belonged to, but she also received many compliments about her dress, which was a topic she was far better equipped to deal with. Eventually, giddy with excitement and nerves both, she stepped out onto a balcony to get a bit of fresh air just as the chronometer tolled eleven.
“Lively crowd in there tonight, eh?”
The comment came from a tall, richly dressed man leaning against the wall next to the door to the ballroom.
“Oh! Yes, it is. Forgive me, I didn’t know anyone else was out here. I suppose you needed a bit of a breather as well?”
“Indeed. These events can get to be a bit much around the holidays; everyone’s spirits are up and you’re racing to keep pace. Ah, but where are my manners?” He inclined in a small, polite bow. “Stephanivien de Haillenarte, at your service. May I ask your name? I don’t believe we’re acquainted.”
“I’m—” She stopped short, clamping down on the reflexive response. “I can’t tell you.” She could feel her face starting to heat. It felt terribly rude not to be able to answer.
Stephanivien, for his part, only wore a small smile. “Is that so? How mysterious. So, what brings you here tonight, flower girl?”
She reached up reflexively to touch the flower in her hair in a moment of embarrassment, her blush growing deeper. “A rare moment of indulgence, I suppose. Allowing myself a bit of fun and glamor. The company has been pleasant, and I’ve enough new ideas to keep me occupied for years from people watching alone.”
He perked up at that. “Oh? What manner of work do you do?”
“I’m a seamstress.”
“Ah, of course! Yes, I imagine such a setting would provide all variety of inspiration in that regard. Do forgive my enthusiasm; I so rarely meet other tradespeople at events such as this.”
“It’s no trouble. It’s enthusiasm that makes a craft worth doing, after all.”
“Would I be familiar with your work?” he asked. “I confess I do not often seek out formalwear, but I commission much of my work gear from the leatherworkers and weavers of the Jeweled Crozier and I know most of them personally.”
“Oh, I’m not in the business of selling things at the moment. Just volunteering my services to the reconstruction effort in the Firmament.” She wondered for a moment if perhaps she had said too much. There were plenty of artisans in the Firmament, plenty of weavers, even. Surely that alone wouldn’t be enough to give her away? She hastily changed the subject. “What about you? It sounds as though you do plenty of hands-on work yourself.”
“I’m the chief of the Skysteel Manufactory.”
“Oh my. That must keep you busy.”
“Busy enough that I’ve never quite gotten used to events like these,” he replied with a small laugh at his own expense. “But I haven’t lost all of my manners. Would you perhaps agree to a dance? You’re lovely company, and beautiful besides.”
Iris blushed beneath her mask. “You make quite charming company yourself. I’d be happy to.”
She took his offered arm, and they headed back into the ballroom. Their timing was excellent; a new song was just starting up. Iris enjoyed dancing, but she couldn’t claim to be an expert on the popular Ishgardian styles.
If Stephanivien noticed any nervousness in her demeanor, he did not show it, effortlessly guiding her into position. Thankfully for her, he was a skilled dancer, leading her through the steps with that same gentle touch.
“You’ve certainly attended enough of these parties to be good at this,” she teased as he spun her.
He laughed good-naturedly. “Comes with the territory of being the eldest of one of the High Houses, I suppose.”
Looking up at him, his blue eyes bright behind the handsome black and gold lines of his mask, she couldn’t help feeling a pang of regret over the anonymity required by her clandestine little outing. I certainly wouldn’t mind seeing him again, she thought as the song slowed to a stop.
Stephanivien withdrew only the barest step to offer the polite bow that marked the end of the dance before he glanced up at her. “Ah, your flower is crooked, here, let me…”
He reached out and delicately removed it from her hair, taking a moment to smooth a few of the petals. The brief brush of his hand in her hair had been entirely chaste, but intimate, and she felt her face warm once more. Before he could replace the flower, however, the chronometer began to toll.
Her heart clenched in a flash of panic. Midnight already? She needed to leave.
Stephanivien was still holding her flower, looking bemused at her sudden change of mood. “Is everything all right?”
“I’m so sorry, but I need to leave. You’re very kind, and I’ve had a wonderful time tonight.”
She dipped in as quick and neat a curtsy as she could manage, and turned to hurry for the door.
“Wait!”
Iris did not stop, did not turn back as she wove her way to the exit.
* * *
She continued at as brisk a pace as she could manage through the deserted streets, making up for losing track of time. The magic of the evening was fast fading behind her as she reached the dark and silent weavers’ workshop, changing as quickly as she could back into her regular clothes. She turned her attention to the dress then, lighting just enough of the lamps to see by as she inspected it carefully to make sure no hems or buttons had been loosened or snagged, nothing had stained the fabric, everything was perfectly presentable.
She gave the dress on the mannequin a final once-over. It was pristine, not a stitch out of place, not a stray thread or wrinkle to be seen. She checked for anything else that might rouse suspicion—her mask was tucked safely away in her pocket, and the flower she’d taken…
Ah. She’d left the flower with Stephanivien.
A single flower couldn’t be too incriminating, could it? Small bouquets had been handed out all across the Firmament to brighten up the crafters’ workspaces. The flower could be anyone’s, really.
Iris sighed. She supposed there was little she could do about it now. Best to get some rest. It was back to work again tomorrow, after all.
* * *
The flower had started to brown and dry out by the next morning, but he carried it with him all the same. It was one of the precious few clues he had; the others led him in the direction of the Firmament now. The woman from the ball had never given him her name, but he had that much to go on, at least. His first impulse had been to consult Francel, but with so little information to work with, he couldn’t be much help.
The Firmament was bustling, even at the early hour. The reconstruction effort had drummed up quite the crowd of tradespeople, and he kept an eye out as he wove his way through the crowd. It was to little avail, for he spotted no familiar face, and the thought occurred to him that she might be working out of sight inside one of the stalls lining the plaza, or she might not be here today at all. He frowned to himself. He’d only wished to see her again, if she wished the same, though with so little to go on he was at something of a loss.
As he scanned the crowd once more, his heart leaped into his throat when he spotted a familiar color—not the rich violet of the mystery woman’s hair or the blue of her eyes, but the powder blue shade of the gown she’d been wearing. Curiously enough, the woman carrying it was clearly not the woman he’d met last night; she was shorter, her hair the wrong color. Still, he hurried his way through the crowd towards her. She looked up as he approached.
“So sorry to bother you, madam, but may I ask where you got that dress? The tailor’s work is exquisite.”
The woman beamed at the secondhand compliment. “Isn’t it just? One of a kind, I’m afraid, but the woman who made it works over there.” She gestured in the direction of one of the stalls lining the plaza.
“Right! Thank you very much.”
His heart sped up as he approached the stall, noticing a bouquet on the counter with flowers matching the one he held. By some serendipity, she appeared from behind a partition at that moment, carrying a folded stack of sturdy workmans’ trousers. She turned to face him as she placed them on the front counter and gasped, her cheeks going pink. He ended up saying the first thing that came to mind.
“Ah, I don’t mean to intrude, but I did wish to return this to you.” He could feel the heat rising in his face as well as he held out the sad, wilting flower. “Though it seems you have a variety of finer ones to choose from.”
That startled a laugh from her. “I…you really came all this way just to return it?” Her tone was warm.
“Not just for that. I wanted to see you again. And perhaps ask your name, if you’d be willing.”
She was smiling now, bright as the sunlight on the snow. “I’m Iris,” she said. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
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