#Silver deserves all the poofy dresses in the world and more | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

saphirered · 3 years

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Was wondering if I could request a Dorian x Rogue Reader where the reader’s never really taken part in any sort of pageant event before and needs some guidance from the party’s resident performer? Love your writing by the way! Have a great day!

Thank you and I hope you like this one too. Have a nice day! 😘

Everyone’s picking out outfits, talking about the pageant and having fun doing so. Orym and Fy’ra have gotten out of participating in the pageant but you weren’t as lucky. Wether it’s because Opal is very convincing, you’re easily tempted, the prospects of a shiny crown or Dorian’s persuasion, you don’t know. Might just be all of the above but you’re apparently in now and will be participating and find yourself playing the part of dress up doll for Opal who’s put you in a grand total of twenty-seven outfits varying from big voluminous dresses to nice suits, some of which including some impractical but pretty armour.

Awkwardly you leave the dressing room. This dress she’s put you in is so poofy you can’t even lower your arms to your sides as the sheer volume of tule keeps them at an angle. You’re pretty sure you look about as comfortable as you feel. The only good part about this humongous ballgown is there’s loads of places to hide weapons and stuff you could possibly lift from people’s pockets among the yards upon yards of fabric. Opal is fawning over you, pulling at the fabric flouncing it up to adjust the layers. Dorian notices your feelings about this twenty-eighth outfit and steps in to save you from the pageant expert.

“Maybe not this one? It doesn’t really do much for their figure, wouldn’t you agree?” Opal taps her lips at Dorian’s suggestion. The genasi has a point. The majority of your features get lost in the garment and no amount of accessorising can fix that. She scrunches her brow and nods. You let out a breath of relief hoping to be done with this. Not like you mind shopping but dressing up in this many outfits is exhausting and you can’t wait to be done. Why can’t you just pick a random one off the rack and call it a day? Lesson of the day; never go pageant shopping with a pageant girl. You’ll be at this for hours.

“Yeah. Too much volume. Maybe we should go back to something more formfitting. I think I saw a couple of outfits that would work much better.” Opal’s words make your breath hitch and you keep in a groan at the mention of more things to try on as the girl scurries off to find the things she saw and you’re left with Dorian. Turning to him as you finish staring after Opal and praying to the gods these new outfits she’s looking for would just spontaneously combust before they made their way back to you, you grab the genasi by the cloak, both hands clutching on tightly.

“Save me, Dorian. Please have mercy and save me from this hell.” You beg. Dorian presses his lips together tightly as to not let the laughter escape. He’ll have to admit it’s very funny to see you so completely and utterly out of your element but he also feels for you.

“I reckon we have about ten minutes before Opal returns. Only way to stop her is finds something you like and suits you well. Blow her away with whatever you find. As long as you look as uncomfortable as you feel, She’ll keep coming with the outfits.” Dorian’s right nothing will satisfy Opal as much as you feeling as comfortable and pretty as they know you are, regardless of you admitting it or not. The problem is, you don’t even know where to start looking. This shop, it’s all just a needle in a haystack for you.

“You have to help me find something and quickly! I don’t think I can take another hoop skirt or waistcoat. I might just faint.” Dorian clasps your hands over his and releases your grasp on his cloak. He offers you a confident smile that somewhat eases your fears of the intimidating woman on fashion spree. Dorian pulls you along to the racks, using one hand to browse while holding yours tightly clasped in the other giving it a soft squeeze whenever you look over your shoulder and around to find Opal and her growing heap of clothes.

“So we’ve eliminated any big skirts and traditional suits. How do you feel about something fitted and flowy?” Dorian brushes his fingers over the shoulder of a smocked shirt. You stare down at the poofy mess you’re still stuck in like a butterfly in a net.

“Uhhh, as far away from any ballgowns as we can get please. I don’t mind a bit of a cinch.” You say as Dorian picks up something akin to a corset with set in with decorative chainmail pieces. He holds it up to your body, purses his lips and puts it back not the rack. Not really your style. You need something fierce and practical, something that shows off your features just right but won’t be wearing you and will still make you feel comfortable in your own skin.

Then he spots it. This will look perfect on you. A dark navy blue fitted top with a deep v-neck nearly down to the bellybutton, and fitted sleeves. The matching leather pants also are fitted and somewhat resemble what you normally wear, though these are much less weathered. Over this all goes a very long trained chiffon robe rhinestoned like the night’s sky held together by an ornate silver clasp at the waist. When Dorian pulls it from the rack and holds it up to you you don’t know wether to fear or feel relieved at the look he gives you. Before you know it you’re being rushed back to the dressing room. Dorian helps you out of the monstrosity of the gown you’re in and leaves you to change into the new outfit as he distracts Opal long enough before she can return with the pile she’s gathered.

You never doubted Dorian to have style but this takes it to a whole new level. This is perfect. It fits in all the right places and whatever he said about it showing when you feel uncomfortable in a garment, it’s true as when you see yourself in the mirror that fully disappears and instead you feel confident. It may not have any protective properties like your usual armour does but it sure feels like you could take on the world right now. You’re badass, beautiful and confident.

When you step out of the dressing room you can already see Dorian mid argument with Opal who wanted to barge in, arms filled with clothes of all kind and the shop assistant being with whatever she couldn’t carry, huffing and puffing under the weight of it all. Their attention turns to you. Dorian’s attention turns to you and he doesn’t know how but you take his breath away. You look absolutely stunning. You look like a deity from the stars themselves, the energy you radiate does you justice and if he ever even had an ounce of doubt (he never did) it only shows your natural beauty more than ever.

“Oh. My. Gods.” Opal exclaims as she drops all the fabric in her arms rushing over to you, inspecting your new outfit, gushing about how it fits and how you should style your hair, maybe do some makeup to match the ‘star-effect’ of the robe for cohesion. You can’t even keep up anymore but let her ramble on. She tells the assistant you’d found your outfit and the assistant exasperatedly begins picking up the pile she dropped to put back on the racks. No more fittings for you. Opal’s satisfied and you’re safe. You offer Dorian a look of gratitude and he winks back, not daring to interrupt the fashion tyrant dressed in pink.

——————

Backstage before your turns in the pageant you get a moment alone with Dorian as the two of you watch the other candidates. You’re panicking as Dorian pulls up your hair, adding a comb to keep it in place and add some flare. You have no idea where he got it nor dare you ask right now, just thankful he’s been doing what he can to ease your nerves. This is not your thing. Prancing around like some trick pony is not your thing. You stick to the shadows, at most mingle with society using honeyed words to get what you need or want but this is a whole new world and you feel as if your skills are useless in this environment.

“You’re going to be okay. All you have to do is answer the question. It doesn’t take much more than a charming answer to persuade the judges. No different than persuading a shopkeeper to give you a better deal.” Dorian adjusts the comb before removing his hands and taking a step back to inspect his work. He taps your shoulder and has you turn around. It doesn't take a genius to see you’re nervous and the jitters are clear through your bouncing leg as you sit staring up at him, panic in your eyes and breathing hitching high in your chest visible through your partially exposed collarbones.

“Yeah but getting a better price on potions doesn’t have a crowd a few hundred large to witness it. What if I say something wrong? What if they don’t like me?” Dorian kneels in front of you, stroking your cheek and hand on your shoulder.

“Deep breath.” You do as you feel his thumb run across your cheek, the gesture alone calms your nerves a little bit and pulls you back to this world. You nod to signal you’re good.

“This is no different that the real world. If you say something wrong, own it. Make them think it’s intentional. There’s very few things you could say that you couldn’t own or turn into something funny.” Dorian assures you. You place a hand over his on your cheek and press a kiss to his wrist as a thank you as he continues.

“As for them not liking you, I don’t see how the couldn’t instantly be mesmerised. You are gorgeous, intelligent, resourceful. If they don’t eat you up and admire you for who you are they don’t deserve you.” The next candidate is called to the stage and both of you know you’ll be up soon. You’re glad Dorian’s pep talk is working and you can feel the affection from him. If only he knew how much it means to you to have him here. Then again, you’ve told him plenty of times how amazing he is.

“Why are they walking all weirdly getting on stage?” You raise an eyebrow as the next candidate places one foot directly in front of the other, walking on their tiptoes more than their full feet.

“Watch the hips.” You do as Dorian says and you can see their hips swaying as they walk adding just a little bit more flare to that strut. You have to say, it kinda looks good. Maybe you should give it a try?

“Could you, I don’t know teach me? I know how to sway hips but this, this goes beyond me.” You gesture to the candidate stopping at Ruby to answer the question. Dorian looks a little taken aback but rises to his feet pulling you with him. He never thought he’d ever be teaching anyone how to walk the walk and is pretty sure he’ll get some weird looks from the others but he doesn’t really care if it makes you happy and more confident about this whole pageant. He puts his hands on your hips as you stand facing each other but keeps a bit of a distance between he two of you so you can still take the steps as you would on your own.

“Okay, so first things first. You want to keep your steps on the same line. See it like walking on a narrow ledge or a tightrope. You want to stick to balancing on your toes and keep a bounce in your knees. Don’t lock them too much. Light on your feet.” Dorian guides you forward as he steps backwards with you guiding you along, tapping whatever hip is swaying next. Your movement is a bit rigid at first but before you know it you’re doing it and Dorian steps away to let you strut without his help. You’re a natural. He gives pointers as you turn but you have the walk down in no time.

Then your name is called. The panic returns for a second but is overshadowed by your newfound confidence. You look the part, you got the act down so act the part too. Confidently you strut down to Dorian, give him a seductive look as you stroke his cheek following his jawline. He’s gotta say, he likes this look on you but can see the glee break through your seduction.

“What would I have done without my handsome hero in blue?” You smile and give him a kiss.

“Still be stuck in that dressing room with Opal probably? You look stunning. Go show them exactly what you’re made of.” Dorian encourages you, a hue of purple spreading lightly across his cheeks as he watches for any witnesses to your moment. Holding on to his cheek as long as you can stepping backwards you offer him one last wink and blowing him a kiss before you turn and strut onto the stage ready to play. Who knew pageants could be fun after all.

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