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it-happened-one-fic · 1 month

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Dancing With Visions - Your Shared Victory - Paso Doble - The Wanderer

Author Notes: This is the sixth fic for my "Dancing with Visions" series. I'm not gonna lie, this one ended up way longer than I initially intended. Describing the motions of a paso doble is really quite hard though. The performance in this fic was heavily inspired by the Paso Doble performed by Molly Rainford & Carlos Gu to the “Survivor” cover by 2WEI on series 20, week 12: semifinals of Strictly Come Dancing. Just like the rest of this series, reader is female. I hope you enjoy!

If you would like to read more of this series, the fics can be found here: Dancing with Visions Masterlist.

Type: Female Reader/ Dance/ Fluff/ pseudo-romantic/ academic foes to potential lovers/ sfw

Word Count: 2813

Honestly, you could understand why Sumeru’s archon had chosen to sign up your most annoying classmate, the same fellow who wouldn’t give his name and stubbornly kept going by ‘The Wanderer’ like some sort of emo boy idol, for dance classes.

You may not know why he was in Lesser-Lord Kusanali’s care, but you could respect her attempts to make him get along with his classmates.

You also respected her decision to sign him up for the Paso Doble as his first dance class. It was an aggressive dance, so it made sense for that to be his first try since, if nothing else, the ‘Wanderer’ was an aggressive guy.

All of that you could understand and respect. The only thing you didn’t like about this entire situation was that you were the unlucky sap who was going to be his partner.

Well, you said unlucky, and that was honestly how you felt about the whole situation. But you couldn’t say that all of your classmates agreed with you. After all, there were quite a few who bought his whole emo boy idol act and couldn’t stop whispering frenziedly over what an attractive young man he was.

They would have doubtlessly been utterly thrilled to have been informed that they would be his partner, but the same couldn’t be said for you.

Because the very second the teacher had called your name to his partner, you’d felt some small, bright part of you die as you looked towards the perpetually smug young man.

What was worse was that there was no changing or swapping of partners. With dance being the newest part of the Akademiya’s curriculum in an attempt to right the past wrongs of outlawing dancing, these classes were uniquely strict.

So you’d walked by all of your fellow female classmates who squealed at the sight of the delicate-looking young man and eyed you with poorly disguised jealousy. And it really was a shame, because you would have loved to switch with one of them if such a thing were allowed.

After all, unlike them, you did not like the Wanderer. In fact, you rather disliked Vahuman’s current star student.

He was arrogant, abrasive, terminally smug, and generally unreasonable. Furthermore, he seemed to view you as some sort of rival, even though you weren’t even in his Darshan. But, at the very least, you could hope your shared distaste for one another would serve to help make this a decent performance and thus grant a good grade in this class. After all, the Paso Doble was supposed to be a dance that told the story of a bullfight.

The lead dancer played the part of the matador, or bullfighter, while the follower, with a large flipping skirt, was the cape that is used to distract the bull and ended up discarded on the ground.

It was inevitable that, at the end of this dance, it would appear like your partner came out as the winner. Which was no doubt why he was currently smirking at you with his slender arms crossed in front of him as he eyed you from underneath his ridiculously sized hat.

You wouldn’t make it easy for him, though, and at the very least, you’d do your very best to keep up with him throughout the dance. Because, unfortunately, he always moved with a certain grace that indicated he’d probably be very good at dancing on top of everything else he’d proved to be good at.

And so you danced with him. Practicing near relentlessly, as you’d both agree that neither of you were going to do this by halves.

Apparently he had to pass this class to get the young archon to quit bugging him. You, on the other hand, simply wanted to learn how to dance out of curiosity, and this was the first class that had been open when you’d had time.

It seemed as if time had flown by with you two snipping incessantly with one another, even as you both discovered that you were a surprisingly good match for one another when it came to dancing.

Despite all the odds, you matched him perfectly and all but forced him to push himself just as he made you push yourself.

It was by no means the romantic dance one might dream of having with someone, even if his face perfectly fit the image of a male lead. Instead, it was like a dance of adversaries where you matched one another beat for beat and constantly forced the other one to reach new heights.

And before long, it had reached time for the performance, and you almost found yourself almost saddened that it had come so quickly. Not that you would ever tell him that.

It was nice, though. You had finally reached the point where your partner was no longer sneering at you and seemed to regard you as more of an equal. And it felt like an achievement that couldn’t have been reached any other way.

It wasn’t like you’d gained a uniquely deep understanding of the young man, but you had gained respect for him. Even if he were frustrating, he backed up his ego by actually being competent. If nothing else, you could rely on him to do his part, and he could rely on you to do your part.

But you ignored all of those thoughts as you rolled your shoulders and stepped out onto the darkened ballroom floor alongside him.

Both of you slipped into your starting poses as he knelt in front of you, and you stood behind him. Both of you hung your heads just before a light cut on, briefly blinding you as you were spotlighted for the judges, who included the archon herself, to see.

A tiny part of you wanted to smile at the sight before you, though. After all, you doubted you’d be seeing much of your partner without his hat after this performance was done. It was a shame, though. His hair looked oddly soft.

Of course, you might not be seeing much of him period after this dance anyway. After all, you weren’t part of his Darshan, and there was nothing saying he was going to take any other dance classes after this one unless the archon made him.

You shifted, swallowing slightly as you heard his murmur that ruined the moment and washed any soft-hearted or saddened thoughts you had away as soon as he spoke, “Don’t mess up this time. This is our ‘exam’ after all.”

His smug tone almost made you scowl, but you forced yourself to concentrate as the music started and your spotlight began to flicker in a blinding fashion as you both snapped into motion. Both of you looked up so suddenly that you all but startled the judges, whom you could barely see as you raised one hand and he straightened, his arms snapping down to his side to the loud pound of a drum.

But you couldn’t worry about them as you let the strings of the music guide you around the Wanderer as he reached out with one hand. His delicate fingers curling into the fabrics of your impressive skirt as he looked up at you. Both of you bracing for the next beat of the music to hit.

And as soon as you heard it, you let yourself practically fall forward and into his waiting arms. Letting him catch you where he knelt on the ground as you relaxed. Forcing yourself to drape against him as you looked towards the ground, and he curled around where you lay on his lap.

You literally heard a gasp from one of the judges just before the Wanderer let you sit back up. Swirling into a standing position close to where you’d started this entire performance as he pivoted on his knees so he was facing you with his hands still on your hips as he looked up at you.

The lights continued to flash as you raised your arms like you were a flamenco dancer as he leaned back, pulling you with him so that you were leaning forward and wholly relying on his slim but surprisingly strong arms to keep you up as you held your carefully posed position.

It was a relief when you were allowed to straighten once more, stepping back and away from the Wanderer as your eyes held his violet gaze that had hardly ever flickered away from your face since you’d shifted into a position where he could see you.

You gripped the edges of your skirt as you continued to back up, giving him room as he reached out towards you with one arm and rose so that he was only kneeling on one knee. Somehow still commanding in his motions despite the fact he was kneeling on the ground.

But then the drums came in, and he slowly stood in a somehow insolent manner, immediately taking a stance like he was challenging you. And you could tell he was, just like he always did.

For some unknown reason, it was always a competition with this man. But that was fine. You could give as good as you got even as you entered a closed hold and let him lead you through your marching steps across the now brightly lit floor.

You forced yourself to ignore the bright-eyed archon who was leaning forward in her seat, the picture of an excited child, as you marched past her. Making yourself keep your focus on the young man, who was obviously treating this like a contest.

You paused to each beat of the song, your gazes colliding each time with unspoken words flying between at a speed that matched the racing beat of your music.

Vying challenge paired with a strange pride was in his gaze each time your eyes found his. And that, paired with the intensity of your dance, made it almost relieving each time you were able to look away from him.

You didn’t want to think about where that pride was coming from when it no longer seemed to be directed towards only his own skills, but towards yours as well.

Because it made no sense for him to feel pride for you, even if you were his partner, when it felt like the two of you had been competing this entire time.

So instead, you just let him lead you along until you were released.

He all but threw you away from him, sending you stumbling backwards as shot him a look over the vehemence of his shove but nonetheless froze and struck another pose. Entering some sort of preordained stance as you stared at him from across the ballroom area.

You weren’t about to let whatever playful, aggressive, or weird mood he was in throw you off. He’d told you not to mess up, and you weren’t about to give him an opening to gloat over you slipping up during the performance.

He marched over to where you’d stopped, almost as if he were approaching an opponent and only stopping in front of you with his arms spread, as if ready for an attack, only for you to rest one hand on his shoulder.

You held one another’s gaze, not even blinking, as you both slowly raised your arms once more and reentered a closed hold. Only then did you turn your head with an almost painful degree of slowness as you leaned back. Attempting to widen the space between the two of you only for him to pull you closer and then spin you across the floor in front of him. Pivoting with you and raising your arm as you snapped into yet another pose again.

Your eyes met his once more, and you swallowed slightly before glancing away and rotating with him once more. This time letting go of his hand after a full circuit and reaching past him, as if trying to grasp something beyond him, as you both entered another set of rotations that got progressively faster the longer they went on.

You reached the center of the floor, and he let go of you, letting you spin away as he held a pose, watching you the entire time you spun away from him until you came to a stop facing a different direction than him.

And then a beat hit, and you spun as he stepped to the side, only slightly closing the distance between you as you both faced the judges. And in that instant, you could tell all of the judges were wholly engrossed in your performance. Their eyes were wide as they leaned forward in their seats. Waiting for yours and the Wanderer’s next motions.

The next beat hit, and you spun, facing the Wanderer and mirroring his careful, marching steps perfectly. Your feet hitting the stage and the exact same instant as you held his proud gaze.

He finished closing the space between you as you swished your skirts with every motion until you reached out. Flattening your hand on his chest and pushing him away from you with a special degree of venom before you started circling each other. Just like a bull in a ring, waiting to attack as it sized up its opponent.

Unlike in a fight, though, the two of you gradually spiraled closer to one another until both of you reached out with one hand to grasp the other’s neck, with him pulling you still closer until your foreheads were just about to touch. And then you spun away again. Almost as if you were unwilling to allow him to even touch you.

You didn’t get very far though before his hand was grasping yours and whipping you back around towards him so that you spun across the floor into his arms, where he caught you tightly with your back to his chest with your arms crossed over your chest, and hands locked into his like puzzle pieces that were finally fitting together after a long search.

And then, with an almost painful slowness, he lowered you into a forward dip as you twisted to look back at him. Still ensnared in his arms until he used the one hand of yours, tugging it up so that your arm stretched over your head, causing your arms to uncross in front of you, and send you whipping you around so that you plummeted towards the ground.

You stopped mere inches from the floor with your hands still in his, your extended arms holding you attached to him as he looked staunchly upwards and at the judges, like he was challenging them now rather than looking at you.

But then he yanked you up, swinging you away from him so that you landed on your feet, hands fisted in your dress as you faced each other. Opponents once more as the lights flashed dramatically.

The strings slipped back into the music, sending you marching forwards. Chasing the Wanderer backwards and across the dance floor before he suddenly slowed. His hand reached out and grasped your shoulder, and he pushed his forehead against yours.

His eyes were practically aglow now, but with what you didn’t know. Perhaps the thrill of the dance or something else, but you persisted in your performance. Reaching out with your own hand, to grasp his arm as he spun you around so that you were beside him with one arm wrapped around his outstretched one as your other arm extended out so that you could grasp his shoulder.

You exchanged places, almost as if you were battling for dominance, before he clasped your extended arm with finality.

His eyes met yours as you braced yourself just before he shifted to the side, swinging you forward as you let yourself drift in a controlled fall to the floor as he swung you.

The momentum of your motions sent you spiraling across the waxed floor until you stopped, fully collapsed, and draped over your lap with one arm outstretched on the floor in a spotlight of your own as he stood behind you. Posed like the victor of a bullfight that he was supposed to be as he looked towards you.

You could hear applause from those who came to watch as well as from the judges, and, through your peripheral vision, you could see the archon standing and applauding. Her eyes were bright and shining as ever as you exhaled slowly before sitting up and looking towards my partner.

Your gaze collided with his as he abandoned his pose and, to my surprise, reached out towards you.

His motions were still commanding, but you found yourself standing and walking over towards him.

Your spotlights merged into one as you met in the middle of the dance floor, and the applause continued around you. Signaling your shared victory.

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it-happened-one-fic · 1 year

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Paso Doble - Worth it - Strictly NRC Dancing

Author Notes: This one was actually quite difficult to write and, to be honest, I'm still not sure if I'm happy with it. To be fair, the paso doble is not on of my favorite dances to watch though it is interesting that it does have the odd storytelling dynamic to it. The ending pose was largely inspired by Cristina and Pasha’s paso doble to "Ira Deodrum" on So You Think You Can Dance season 7. Just like the rest of AU, reader is a female for this fic. I hope you enjoy!

If you would like to read more of this AU the fics can be found here: Strictly NRC Dancing AU Master-List

Type: Dance AU/fluff/female reader/ platonic

Word count: 853

Trigger Warning: Crowley

“So, here’s the deal. We’re not going to tell your partner about the surprise ending to your paso doble.” I stared at Floyd’s back as he led me, ominously enough, into the gymnasium and continued to explain his grand scheme, “His surprised reaction will make your performance all the better, and it’ll be worth a load of points.”

I frowned slightly as he pushed his way through the large doors, casually holding one open for me to pass through, “But I don’t need ‘loads of points.’ I’ve already passed my one required dance class, so my performance will have no bearing on my grade. The only reason I have to do it is because Crowley is a butt.”

Floyd cast a sly grin over his shoulder at me, “Go big or go home, Shrimpy. Besides, don’t you wanna make him look like the loser he is?”

I snorted, but instead of responding, I was now eyeing the mats we were approaching and frowning in confusion.

Seeing the mats in the gym wasn’t surprising; what caught me off guard was the fact that Vil, of all people, was standing there next to them. Floyd had said he was going to get us some assistance, but… Well, I hadn’t expected Vil, of all people, to be who Floyd had in mind.

I leaned towards Floyd slightly, my eyes never leaving the actor/model/vocalist as I spoke in a quiet voice, “Why is Vil here?”

Vil smiled slightly, evidently enough having heard me despite my hushed tone, “To help with acting instruction tater tot. You don’t want to just execute the movements, you want to execute the performance.”

His amethyst eyes glimmered slightly as he spoke, clearly showing his pleasure with the task at hand. But I was fairly certain that no one at this school liked our headmage. So making him look bad was likely something everyone would enjoy.

Vil stepped forward, nodding at Floyd before directing his attention back to me, “I’m sure Professor Crewel explained this while he was teaching you, but a paso doble is a story. The lead plays the role of a matador and typically emerges victorious at the end of the dance. The follower can be in the role of the bull, cape, or even a flamenco dancer. Floyd choreographed the dance so that-”

“You’re the bull, Shrimpy, but you aren’t going to lose. Your partner is.” Vil shot Floyd a distinctly annoyed look that went ignored by the 2nd year.

Floyd himself simply glanced nonchalantly over at Vil, causing me to shift uncomfortably. I couldn’t help but be slightly worried that my choreographer was going to ditch before he finished explaining the ending of the dance he had yet to show me.

But my fears turned out to be untrue as Floyd soon continued, now eyeing Vil as he spoke, “They’ve already gone through the other parts, all that’s left is the surprise ending.” Vil sighed, but gestured for me to come over as Floyd began to explain.

“After he shoves you off his knee and you hit the floor limply, he’ll lean over you right?” I nodded, eyeing Floyd as I joined Vil on the mat.

Floyd flapped his hand, a vague signal to go ahead and lay down in the position I would be in at the end of the dance. “Before the song completely ends, you’re going to flip him over and end the performance sitting on top of him. The Matador is dead, and the bull wins.”

I blinked at him before looking up in confusion at Vil, who knelt with a sigh, “Let me show you…..”

Practice with Vil had been... Interesting. But it had also paid off. Not only was I now prepared for this dance’s surprise ending, but I’d also learned how to flip a fully grown man off of myself should I be pinned to the ground.

The entire room was silent as I slung myself through the dance with all the pent-up aggression I felt towards Crowley, but I couldn’t deny I was looking forward to the climatic ending Floyd had dreamt up. Crowley’s reaction would no doubt be gold.

As instructed, I arched my back over his knee and let him shove me off, rolling pitifully to the ground and away from him before stopping limply. Crowley marched over, seemingly triumphant, with a smirk on his face before hitting the floor and all but planking over me.

This, in and of itself, would have been an odd ending. I realized that now. Why would the matador lean over the supposedly dead bull in such a strange position?

But Crowley didn’t stay there long. Instead, I did as Vil and I rehearsed. My eyes popped open, and I snapped my leg up and over his hip, startling the principal enough that he made a shocked sound.

I rolled, flipping him over and onto his back as the song ended. Him on the ground staring wide-eyed up at me as I looked down at him, momentarily deafened by the cheers of the crowd.

Oh yes, this had definitely been worth it.

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