TURBO TIER: Crimson Confidence / Beidou Supermodel TF (Patreon)

The sun was beginning to set over Liyue Harbor. The golden light hit the water, making it look like a sea of Mora. Inside a small, quiet room at the inn, Beidou sat down with a heavy sigh. The wooden chair creaked under her weight. It had been a long week of sailing, shouting orders, and hauling heavy crates. Her muscles were tight. Her boots felt heavy on her feet. All she wanted was a moment of peace before the crew gathered for dinner.

On the table in front of her, there was a small box. It was wrapped in elegant yellow ribbon. It looked expensive. It looked out of place on the rough, scratched wood of the inn’s table.

"Hah," Beidou laughed softly to herself, leaning forward. "Who sent this? Probably someone wanting a favor."

She reached out and untied the ribbon. The paper fell away easily. Inside, there was a bottle of perfume. It was made of thick glass, shaped like a drop of water. It glowed faintly. There was a small note tucked underneath it. Beidou picked it up. The handwriting was fancy, full of loops and curls.

For the woman who deserves to shine brighter than the ocean sun. A gift from Fontaine.

"Fontaine, huh?" Beidou muttered. She uncorked the bottle. "Well, let's see what the fancy folks are wearing these days."

She lifted the bottle and sprayed a fine mist into the air. She walked into it, letting the scent settle on her clothes and skin.

It did not smell like the sea. It did not smell like beer or iron or the things she was used to. It smelled like sweet roses, vanilla, and something else something deep and heavy, like thick velvet.

"Not bad," she admitted. She sat back down.

But then, a strange feeling washed over her. It started in her fingertips. They felt tingly. Then, her legs felt heavy. It wasn't the heaviness of being tired. It was a soft, sinking feeling.

"What..." Beidou tried to shake her head. "Strong stuff..."

The room began to spin. The sounds of the harbor outside the shouting merchants, the crashing waves started to sound very far away. They became muffled, like she was underwater.

Her eyelids felt like they were made of lead. She tried to stand up, to reach for her claymore leaning against the wall, but her arm wouldn't obey. It fell limp to her side.

"Just... a quick nap..." she whispered. Her voice sounded slurried.

Beidou slumped forward onto the table. Her cheek pressed against the cool wood. The sweet smell of the perfume filled her nose, filling her mind, pushing out every other thought. darkness took her.

A few minutes later, a soft knock came at the door.

"Captain?"

It was Kazuha. His voice was calm and polite.

"Dinner is ready. The crew is waiting for you. Xiangling made that spicy fish you like."

There was no answer.

Kazuha waited. He tilted his head, listening to the wind. Usually, he could hear Beidou’s strong breathing or the creak of her shifting in a chair. Today, he heard nothing.

"Captain Beidou? I am coming in."

Kazuha pushed the door open. He stepped inside, looking around.

The room was empty.

The window was closed. The chair was pushed back. The claymore was gone. There was no sign of a struggle. The only thing left was a faint, sweet scent lingering in the air smelling of roses and vanilla.

"Strange," Kazuha whispered, looking at the empty table. "Where did she go?"

Beidou gasped. Her eyes snapped open.

She wasn't at the inn anymore.

The rough wooden table was gone. The smell of salt and fish was gone.

She was sitting in a chair, but this chair was soft. It was covered in leather. The room around her was bright blindingly bright. Mirrors covered every wall, reflecting her face back at her a dozen times.

"What is this?" Beidou said. Her voice echoed in the room.

"Oh, good. You are awake."

Beidou tried to turn her head. A woman was standing behind her. The woman was tall, wearing a sharp black suit and holding a comb. She had a strict, professional smile.

"Where am I?" Beidou demanded. She tried to stand up, but her body felt weak. It felt soft. "I was in Liyue. I need to get back to my ship."

"Ship?" The woman laughed. It was a cold, dry sound. "Darling, you are in Fontaine. You are in backstage. The show starts in twenty minutes. We don't have time for jokes about ships."

"Show? What show?" Beidou frowned. She looked at her reflection.

She looked different. Her skin looked smoother, glowing under the bright lights. The eyepatch was still there, but it looked... stylish.

"I'm not doing a show," Beidou growled. She tried to resist. "I am leaving."

"You are tense," the woman said soothingly. She placed her hands on Beidou’s shoulders. Her grip was surprisingly strong. "You just have pre-show jitters. It happens to all the top models."

"I am not a model!" Beidou snapped.

"Shh," the woman hissed. She reached for a tube on the table. It was a bright, deep red lipstick. "Let's fix those lips. You look pale."

"Don't touch me," Beidou said. She raised her hand to slap the woman’s hand away.

But her hand moved slowly. It trembled.

The woman easily caught Beidou’s wrist. She held it gently but firmly.

"Look at you," the woman said softly, looking into the mirror. "Look how beautiful you are. Why would you want to be anywhere else? Why would you want to anywhere when you can be here?"

"Because..." Beidou paused. Why did she want to be on the boat? The memory felt slippery. "Because I am the Captain."

"Captain?" The woman uncapped the lipstick. "Captain of what? Of fashion? Yes, you are."

The woman leaned in. Beidou tried to turn her face away, but the scent of the perfume hit her again. It was coming from the woman’s clothes. It made Beidou’s head spin. The fog in her mind got thicker.

The woman applied the lipstick. It felt cold and waxy on Beidou’s lips.

"There," the woman whispered. "Press your lips together."

Beidou didn't want to. But her body reacted automatically. She pressed her lips together, spreading the red color.

"Good girl," the woman said.

"I... I am not model," Beidou mumbled. But her voice lacked its usual fire. It sounded soft. Breathless.

"I am captain."

"Yes, you are Beidou," the woman agreed, picking up a hairbrush. She began to pull it through Beidou’s long, dark hair. "Beidou, the Star of the Runway. Beidou, the face of Teyvat Style."

"No," Beidou said. "That's not right."

"It feels right though, doesn't it?" The woman asked. She brushed rhythmically. Stroke. Stroke.

Stroke. "Look at your hair. It’s so silky. No salt water to ruin it here. No wind to tangle it."

Beidou looked in the mirror. Her hair did look nice. It shone under the lights.

"It... it looks okay," Beidou admitted.

"Just okay?" The woman tsked. "It is perfection. You are perfection."

The woman spun the chair around. "Now, stand up. Let’s get you into your dress."

Beidou looked down. She was wearing her normal attire.

"You don't need those heavy, ugly things," the woman said dismissively. She snapped her fingers.

Two assistants appeared from the shadows, carrying a dress.

It was red. A deep, shiny red, like a ruby. It was tight and strapless.

"That won't fit," Beidou said. "I can't fight in that."

"Fight?" The woman laughed again. "You don't need to fight, darling. You just need to walk. You just need to be looked at."

The assistants pulled the robe off Beidou. She felt exposed, vulnerable. Before she could protest, they slid the red dress over her.

It was tight. It hugged her chest and her waist. It restricted her breathing just a little. It made her stand up straighter.

"I can't move," Beidou complained. She tried to take a wide stance, like she was balancing on a rocking deck. The dress wouldn't let her. She had to keep her legs together.

"You don't need to run," the woman said, adjusting the fabric. "You just need to glide. Like a swan."

She turned Beidou back to the mirror.

Beidou gasped.

The woman in the reflection didn't look like a pirate captain. She looked like a beauty. The red dress shimmered like liquid fire. Her legs, exposed by a high slit in the dress, looked long and elegant.

"Is that... me?" Beidou whispered.

"That is you," the woman said. She came close to Beidou’s ear. "This is who you really are. You were hiding behind all that leather and metal. You were hiding behind that tough act. But this? This is the truth."

"The truth..." Beidou repeated. The words tasted sweet on her tongue.

"You love being beautiful," the woman suggested. "You love being admired."

"I..." Beidou furrowed her brow. She tried to remember the sea. She tried to remember the name of her crewmates. Ka... Kazu... The name faded away like mist in the morning sun. "I do like... looking good."

"Exactly." The woman placed a necklace around Beidou’s neck. It was made of pearls and a large blue gem. "You are the Queen."

"Queen," Beidou echoed. "Queen of the Crux..."

"Queen of the Catwalk," the woman corrected firmly. "Say it."

Beidou hesitated. Her head felt so light. The smell of the perfume was everywhere. The bright lights were making it hard to think about anything else.

"Queen of the..." Beidou stared at her red lips in the mirror. They looked so perfect. "Queen of the Catwalk."

"Louder," the woman commanded. She began to spray more hairspray, a mist settling over Beidou.

"I am the Queen of the Catwalk," Beidou said. Her voice was stronger now. More confident. But it wasn't the confidence of a warrior. It was the confidence of a star.

"And what is your job?" the woman asked.

"My job is..." Beidou paused. What was her job? Hauling cargo? Fighting monsters? That sounded dangerous. That sounded dirty. Why would she do that? She might break a nail. She might mess up her hair.

"My job is to be beautiful," Beidou said. A smile spread across her face. It wasn't a smirk. It was a practiced, perfect smile.

"And what about the ship?" the woman asked, testing her.

Beidou laughed. It was a light, airy sound. "A ship? Oh, you mean a boat? Why would I go on a boat?It's wet and smells terrible. I belong here. In the spotlight."

"Perfect," the woman said. She stepped back. "You are ready."

Beidou looked at herself one last time. She posed. She placed a hand on her hip and tilted her head.

The movement came naturally now. Her body knew what to do. The muscle memory of swinging a sword was gone, replaced by the muscle memory of striking a pose.

"I am ready," Beidou agreed.

"The audience is waiting," the woman said, opening the door to the stage. "Go show them who owns this city."

Beidou didn't hesitate. She didn't look back for her claymore. She didn't look back for her crew. She stepped forward, her heels clicking rhythmically on the floor.

Click. Click. Click.

She walked through the curtain and onto the stage.

The lights hit her instantly. Thousands of camera flashes went off at once. The crowd roared. They weren't cheering for a captain. They were screaming for a supermodel.

Beidou stopped at the end of the runway. She looked out at the sea of people. This was her ocean now.

She struck a pose, flashing her dazzling smile. She felt powerful. She felt adored.

Somewhere, far away in Liyue, a ship was waiting for a captain who would never return. But Beidou didn't care. That life was a dream. This was reality.

She blew a kiss to the crowd.

"I am beautiful," she thought, her mind clear and focused only on the cameras. "And I am the most beautiful woman in the world."

She turned and strutted back, the red dress flowing behind her like a flag of victory. She was home.

In the heart of Fontaine, Beidou sat in her dressing room after the show.

The room was filled with flowers. Bouquets of roses, lilies, and windwheel asters.

She picked up a magazine that had just been printed. On the cover was her face. The headline read: BEIDOU’S BOLD & BEAUTIFUL STYLE: CRIMSON CONFIDENCE.

She traced the line of her jaw on the paper.

"Perfect," she whispered.

A small part of her mind, a tiny, locked-away fragment, screamed. This isn't you! You need to go back! The ocean is calling!

Beidou paused. She looked at the mirror. For a second, her eye twitched. She looked at the door. She could run. She could tear this dress off, find a boat, and sail back to Liyue. She could find Kazuha.

She looked at the perfume bottle sitting on her vanity.

She picked it up and sprayed it into the air. She walked through the mist, breathing it in deep.

The voice in her head went silent. The ocean was just a body of water. The Alcor was just a piece of wood.

She sat back down and crossed her legs. She picked up a glass of sparkling water.

"Go back?" she laughed to her reflection. "Why would I ever go back to being a pirate? This is where I belong."

She leaned forward and kissed her own reflection in the mirror, leaving a perfect, red mark on the glass.

"I am a supermodel," Beidou said, the words feeling like the only truth she had ever known. "And I am never leaving the spotlight."

She turned off the lights in the room, leaving the old Beidou in the dark, while the new Beidou walked out the door, ready for the after-party.