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anxious-copper-wp · 4 months ago

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WIN BIG SHINDIG

Luke Ross x Female!oc

Summary: when the win big shindig rolls around, Luke try’s to ask out his sisters best friend, while failing miserably. But he’s successfully able to get her to go with him.

Elijah time!

This was originally the first chapter for my Luke Ross story on Wattpad ‘ bestfriends brother’ but I decided I wanted to start the fic off on earlier seasons.

Zuria May was excited, the win big shindig was happing this week, and the girl was helping Emma Ross, the sister of her best friend, zuri Ross, plan the dance, which she wasn't actually helping plan, she was just in charge with music, and luckily, the girl just so happened to be apart of a band. Everyone around school was talking about who they were going to ask to be their dates, and Ria was just hoping she'd be able to have a conversation with the boy she wanted to go with, and luckily, said boy had left a note in her locker.

"So, Luke, what did you wanna tell me?" Zuria asked as she walked into a hallway that was filled with confetti.

"Uh..." Luke stuttered, looking at the girl before turning towards the lockers, letting a terrified noise.

"Go away, Zuria?" Ria read aloud, turning towards Luke. "Is this some kind of practical joke?" She scoffed before getting a face full of confetti.

"Fixed it..." Ravi laughed nervously.

"You're a total jerk." Ria glared at her best friends brother, rolling her eyes as she walked away.

Another letter from Luke saying to meet him outside, Zuria wasn't going to go, but she decided she'd give him another chance.

"Luke, it you have something to say, please, make it quick." Zuria spoke quickly, "I'm supposed to be at band practice with the guys."

"Uh, yeah." Luke stuttered as he made his way towards her, grabbing her arm and manoeuvring her to a certain spot. "Just stand right here." The boy stared at her side profile, a smile on his face. Zuria furrowed her brows, turning to Luke with a confused face. "Uh...okay, I just have to make a quick call." He seemed nervous, which Zuria found weird. She's known Luke for quite some time, he was never nervous. "Don't move, okay?" Luke quickly walked to the side, and that's when the sprinklers went off.

"Oh my god!" Zuria screamed, her white off shoulder butterfly top and black and white jeans were getting soaked, she was supposed to go to band practice in this outfit. "I can't believe I fell for another one of your stupid practical jokes!" She cried out, covering face, trying to stop the water going to her face.

"Uh, no, wait!" Luke tried to make his way over to her, only for the girl to trip backwards and hit her head against the ground.

"Ow, My head!" Zuria cried, sitting up and looking at Luke. "Why do you hate me?"

"Zuria, I swear, I wanted you standing there for something else!" Luke tried to explain, going over to help her up, just as the marching band came by. The boy was quick to move her out of the way before she got trampled.

"Merciful heavens, make it stop." Ravi spoke, taking a sip from his drink.

"Could this get any worse?!" Luke groaned, his hand still keeping Zuria stable on her feet.

"Who is zaria?" Ravi sounded out, squinting at the sky, making Luke groan again. Zuria wasn't paying attention, she was too busy trying to keep herself awake.

"I think I have a concussion." The girl cried, placing her hand on her head, stumbling away from the boys and to the nurse.

•

Zuria was making her way to the gym, wearing her rainbow tie dye crop top over her black singlet, some black jeans, some tennis shoes and her hair was down, braided at the top with some beads. She was turning into the hallway, were rose petals had been laid out, and Luke was on his knee, a huge bouquet of flowers, holding one in his hand.

"Luke?" Zuria questioned, staring down at the boy.

"Ria." He smiled, staring up at her.

"I can't believe this." She chuckled, "is this all for me?" She wondered, not wanting to get the wrong idea.

"Uh.." he stuttered, glancing around before holding out the bouquet, with a sweet smile. "Yes, It is."

"This is so sweet." She smiled softly, "I thought you hated me." She laughed nervously. "Wait-" her eyes widened before she started looking around frantically. "The marching band isn't hiding anywhere, is it?"

"Zuria, I'm really sorry about all that." Luke stated clearly, placing his hand on her arm. "It just, you know, you're the coolest girl I know, and wonderful to, and I didn't think you'd go to the dance with me unless I asked in a big way." He explained, "plus, zuri said she'd skin me alive if I didn't make the proposal good enough."

"Well, I'd say this is pretty big." Ria smiled softly. "And definitely good enough," she chuckled, "although, I heard someone named zaria got asked by a skywriter." She smiled, impressed.

"So, uhh..." he stuttered, before holding out a rose to her. "Will you go to the dance with me?" He asked nervously.

"I'd love to." Ria smiled, taking the flower and Luke's hand into hers.

"And you know, you didn't have to go through all this trouble." Ria stated, smiling at him. "You could've just asked me through a note, I would've even found it sweet if you did it through zuri." She laughed.

"Trust me, when prom rolls around, I'm just sending you a paper airplane." The two laughed, making their way to the dance hand in hand.

"You look really pretty." Luke smiled as the two slowed danced, Zuria laughed, spinning the boy under her arm.

"Thank you, Emma tried to force me into a dress," the girl laughed, "but I finally convinced her to let me wear this because it's more easier for me to preform in." Zuria spoke as Luke manoeuvre her under his arm now.

"Preform?"

"The band and I are performing tonight," she smiled. "We're on after throwing stuff at the Viking and after the Vamps."

"Seriously?" Luke grinned, now having his arms around her waist as the two slowly swayed. "You're going to do great." He stated, despite not having heard her or the band before.

"Okay, party people," Emma spoke into the microphone, "now, it's time to destroy the Viking!" She exclaimed as Bertram made his way on the stage, opera singing the words 'I am a Viking.' Which made the students not even hesitate with their throwing and booing. Soon enough, Bertram exited the stage after having cake thrown at him.

"Listen up, everyone." Emma spoke, "I have a huge surprise for you." She stated. "Thanks to my incredibly hard work and a lost tour bus driver, I give you, The vamps!" The crowd cheered as the band began to play. Luke and Zuria were dancing like they were the only people in the room, jumping up and down with each other. Soon enough, they were done, and it was time for sunset curve.

"And now, for our own amazing little band, welcome Zuria, Aamina, charlotte and Sirius, Sunset curve!!" Emma exclaimed, the four students making their way on stage.

Zuria began to play the piano, while the others got ready.

"Sometimes I think I'm falling down, I wanna cry, I'm calling out, for one more try, to feel alive." She sang, staring out at Luke in the crowd. "And when I feel lost and alone, I know that I can make it home, fight through the dark." She gained more confidence. "And fine the spark! Life is a risk, but I will take it, close my eyes and jump, together I think that we can make it." She smiled. "Come on, let's Run! And rise-!" The band joined in. "Through the night, you and I!" Ria raised from the piano, taking the microphone with her. "We will fight to shine together, bright for ever!" She pointed into the crowd. "And rise through the night! You and I! We will fight to shine together, bright forever!" Ria grinned as the crowd were cheering.

"Uh, Is this really happening?" She asked Sirius in disbelief.

"Just go with it!" He grinned, taking a step forward. "In times that i doubted myself, I felt like I needed some help, stuck in my head," Sirius grinned as he watched Zuria and Mina jam out together, "with nothing left!" He laughed, "I feel something around me now, so unclear, lifting me out! I found the ground! I'm marching on!"

"Life is a risk, but we will take it!" Mina joined it, both her and Sirius singing into the same Mike as she played bass and he guitar. "Close my eyes and jump! Together I think we can make it, come on, let's run!!"

"And rise! Through the night! You and I! We will fight to shine together!" Everyone joined in, including Lottie who was on drums. "Bright forever!! And rise, through the night! You and I! We will fight! To shine together! Bright forever!"

"In times that I doubted myself. I felt like I needed some help, stuck in my head, with nothing left!!"

"And when I feel, lost and alone, I know that i will make it home, fight through the dark, and find the spark!"

Zuria laughed as she caught Aamina wink at charlotte.

"And rise! Through the night! You and I! We will fight forever, to shine together!! bright forever!! And rise through the night! You and I! We will fight! To shine together! Bright forever!!"

And with that, the song was finished, and the gym erupted in screams and cheers.

"Thank you, sunset curve!!" Emma cheered, hugging the band as they exited the stage, and The Vamps were back on. Zuria made her way back to Luke, and the two began to dance again, Zuria grabbing his hands and Luke spinning and dipping her.

The two had the time of their lives, it had been the first time the two actually had a proper talk, and the talking continued as Luke walked her home.

"You were absolutely amazing, I didn't know you could sing like that!" Luke grinned, spinning the girl around as he walked with her down the road.

"Thank you, i haven't preformed in front of a crowd before," she laughed, squealing as Luke lifted her off her feet as they arrived at her house. "I had an amazing time, Luke." She smiled, still holding the boys hand.

"I did to, thank you for an amazing night." He smiled, helping her up the stairs. "I really like you, Zuria." He stated, staring into her eyes.

"And I really like you, Luke."

"So...would you, possibly, think about being my girlfriend?" Luke nervously stumbled over his words, holding her hands nervously.

"Absolutely." She grinned, kissing the boys cheek.

"Hehe-" Luke giggled, reaching up and holding his cheek. "I'm never washing this face again."

#luke ross #disney jessie #jessie prescott #zuri ross #ravi ross #Emma ross #Luke ross x reader #Luke ross x oc #Disney x oc #oc insert #canon x oc #cameron boyce #Cameron Boyce x oc #Cameron Boyce x reader #rest in peace #rip cameron boyce

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jiubilant · 3 months ago

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I heard this story from my mother, who heard it from her mother, who heard it from a spider that whispered in her ear—and the spider told it best, because spiders, you know, spin stories as strong as their silk. But I’ll tell it to you now as best I can, so that none will forget how Tiro Dirnamat kindled the first fire.

Long ago, before the dead spoke to the living and the living spoke to the dead—

* * *

“S’this a ghost story?” the clerk’s youngest apprentice interrupts, watching him with wary anticipation. “Rusty clanks and ottomies and all?”

Rusty clanks, thinks the clerk with amused despair, is probably self-explanatory. The rest is beyond him. “Ottomies?”

“S’what they do to millers in Colovy.” The child perks up, delighted to know something he doesn’t. “First they stretch you for it, then they sell your corpus to some wizard, and then you get ottomized.”

The clerk, darning a shirt in the scant light of the fireplace, blinks at the small, earnest face staring up at him from the rug. She sleeps there, poor urchin. He’d first tried to lodge her with Rafe’s mother, who had six daughters for the child to befriend; she’d bitten one, the little Boethite, and taught the other five to pick pockets. In a sennight she was back on his front stoop scratching fleas. He ought to find her somewhere else to stay.

In the meantime, they’ve gotten used to each other. Few others understand the child’s cant.

“Millers,” he murmurs, half to himself, “rhymes with killers. And to stretch, I expect, is to—”

The child clutches her throat, makes a grotesque face, and flops with a theatrical twitch onto her pallet by the fire.

“—yes, that,” says the clerk, “thank you, which leaves ottomized.” He thinks about what a Colovy wizard might do with someone’s corpus. “Ottomized. Ot—anatomized?”

The child, with blithe unconcern, rises from the dead. “S’what I said.”

The Empire, the clerk reflects, does sell the corpses of its murderers to Legion necromancers. That the child knows this does not surprise him. She’d come to Haafingar with mange, and a shirt more hole than wool, and a hairbrush-handle whittled to a point.

She itches her throat where her fur, dark as a sable’s, is at last growing back. Only a twitch of her tail betrays her interest—and then her eyes, bright in the firelight, sneaking a thief’s furtive glance up. “Did you really hear it from a spider?”

“My grandmother heard it from the spider.” The clerk tries not to smile. “Pay attention.”

* * *

Long ago, before the dead spoke to the living and the living spoke to the dead, Tiro Dirnamat was born in the land of Veloth. In those days that land was as frigid as this one. The people of Veloth shivered all day and wept all night, for they were starving as well as freezing; their ploughs and spades were more useless than their tears, for no seed they tried to sow would grow. Many of Veloth’s people perished. The Pilgrim himself lived on, but he was old and cold and full of grief, and in his secret heart he yearned for the warmth of the homeland he’d spurned.

But Tiro Dirnamat had never known warmth. She grew up cold and hungry, as children of hardship do. And when she’d grown as tall as you, or thereabouts, she sought out Boethiah.

“I’m cold,” she told the goddess. “I’m hungry.”

“Hunt,” said Boethiah, and tore a shred of gristle from her terrible teeth. She and her son Moves-Like-This were squatting in the snow, gnawing a leg of goat each. “Light a fire.”

Tiro Dirnamat didn’t know what a fire was, and she saw no game to hunt. She did see that Moves-Like-This hadn’t noticed her, so she knocked him down and snatched his leg of goat—

* * *

“How’d he cook it?” asks the child.

The clerk blinks. “What?”

“You said Tiro Doormat—”

“Dirnamat.”

“Dearmat,” says the child, apologetic. “You said she lit the first glim. So how’d any cove in those days roast his goat?”

“In those days,” says the clerk, “you left your hearthpan out and waited for a star to fall in it. Then you cooked your supper over the star.” He smiles at the look on the child’s face. “Where was I?”

* * *

Yes, the leg of goat. Well, Moves-Like-This tried to catch Tiro Dirnamat. He moved like a torrent in spate, like heat-lightning, like wind in reeds. But Tiro Dirnamat was hungrier than he. She danced and ducked and dodged his many strikes, tearing bites from his supper all the while, until the leg of goat was quite, ah, ottomized. Then Boethiah grabbed her by the hair.

“Fool,” she said, though she looked pleased. “Do all of Veloth’s children squabble like alit for scraps?”

“We’re cold,” said Tiro Dirnamat—and tried to hit the goddess, oh, yes, with the legbone of the goat. “We’re hungry.”

Boethiah smiled with all her sharpest teeth.

“Leave the shadow of the mountains, alitla,” she said. “Climb to the peak where the midmorning sun sits. And give me that.”

She took the legbone of the goat from Tiro Dirnamat and threw it to the ground, and it became a golden spear. She threw Tiro Dirnamat to the ground, too. And Tiro Dirnamat snatched the spear and ran, but not before making a face at Moves-Like-This—or Fa-Nuit-Hen, as he’s properly named—who stuck out his tongue at her.

So the lowliest of Veloth’s children, with only her spear and her daring, traveled east—and east, and east, farther than anyone had walked since feet were invented. When she left the shadow of the mountains, as the goddess had told her to do, she discovered something strange: the snow that she trudged through was gray, not white, and didn’t melt. Nor did it fall from the sky, where Azura spins her fate-threads from the wool of clouds. Instead it rose from a peak where the midmorning sun sat.

Up that peak climbed Tiro Dirnamat. When she reached the mountaintop, the sun had gone to sit somewhere else—but it had squashed a dent in the summit, it seemed. Tiro Dirnamat slid down into the crater of the mountain, and leaned on her spear, and thought. Boethiah hadn��t told her what to do next. It is she who gives the spear, and we who cast it.

But Tiro Dirnamat was weary from her travels, and hungry, and had never known warmth. She could think of no way to pass the goddess’s test. At last, in her frustration, she raised her golden spear and stabbed at the mountain.

The very stone cracked beneath her feet. So strong was the strike of hardship’s daughter, so driven by her wrath and will to thrive, that it pricked the Heart of the World that beat beneath the earth. The blood of the world welled molten from the wound. And when Tiro Dirnamat tugged her spear from the crack in the stone, it came up hot, hotter than an iron, and aflame—which is why we call it Goldbrand.

Then the crack widened, and the mountain shook, and Tiro Dirnamat thought she’d better get out of there. She scrambled down the peak and away, outrunning the world’s-blood that ran behind—she’d bested Fa-Nuit-Hen, after all, who was much faster. West she ran, and west, and west, with the fire of her spear streaking on the wind.

The people of Veloth saw her coming and hid away their children, because Tiro Dirnamat liked to bite them—are you sorry? Then they cried out in wonder and fear, for the snow melted before Tiro Dirnamat’s flaming spear. She cast it at the feet of Veloth, and the prophet’s grief melted, too.

“A door thou hast brought us, Bringer of Fire,” he said. “And we shall walk through it, at suffering’s end, to the house of Boethiah.”

And he led his people from the shadow of the mountains—but Tiro Firebringer, who knew the way, led him. And Veloth’s people thrived in the Heartland, and were not cold, for ever after they had fire—and they weren’t hungry, either, for Mephala taught them to cook with it. So the spider told my grandmother, who told my mother, who told me.

* * *

“Of course,” the clerk adds, his brow furrowing, “my mother always put in a bit about Tiro battling a ghoul—who shared his name with the Imperial proconsul, as it happens. There.” He flicks the mended shirt at the child, who catches it with a startled cat’s chirp. “Try it on, hla, and tell me if I missed any holes. Damned if I know where my spectacles are.”

His apprentice stares at it for a moment, sweeping the hearthstones with her tail, then tugs it over her nightclothes. He suspects it’s her favorite shirt. Since he taught her to backstitch, she’s decorated its hem with a web of wobbly lines.

“What happened then?” she asks, her voice muffled by the shirt. Her head’s still in it. She emerges at last with bent whiskers and staticky fur. “To Tiro Dirnamat.”

“She had supper, I suppose,” says the clerk, tucking needle and string away, “and sat by the hearth.”

Not a thrilling conclusion, he thinks. But the little cutthroat, a snug silhouette against the fire, looks satisfied—and falls asleep soon after, still in the shirt.

#tesfest24 #day 3 #prompt: ghost #prompt: hungry #skyrim #microfic #oc tag #shurri #ravi

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