Femslash February Day 19: Gold & Day 26: Silver

Fandom: Hannibal (TV)

Pairing: Bedeliyoh (Bedelia/Chiyoh)

Read the corresponding mini-fic, “Gold & Silver”: (AO3) (Wattpad) (FFN)

All posts: {Day 1} {Day 5} {Days 8 & 17} {Days 12 & 16} {Day 18} {Days 19 & 26} {Day 20} {Day 27}

I’m not sure if I have any followers left since it’s been so long 🤣, but while I’ve picked up some new fandoms in my absence, I still think about my Bedeliyoh epic every so often. Aside from a few short drabbles posted on AO3, I never posted the WIP because I wanted it to be finished before I started putting it up. That eventually backfired, because I have a mammoth unfinished fic (60k+) with no ending. 

I hate to give up entirely on this fic, so before I do, I thought I’d throw this post out there and see if anyone would be interested in helping out. It’s Bedelia/Chiyoh, with Abigail as their adopted daughter. 

no warnings apply, 700 words, rated G. on ao3 here.

They do most of their talking in the darkness.

The heavy blackout blinds covering Bedelia's floor to ceiling windows don't let in a single iota of light; it's only the red numbers of her alarm clock, floating in a sea of blackness the consistency of tar, that gives the room some semblance of shape and form, that keeps it from simply being a void of darkness.

Chiyoh is resting on the bed beside her, motionless. Even in the stillness and silence of the room, her breathing is nearly impossible to hear, could easily be mistaken for some other kind of sound, one of the idiosyncrasies that all houses possess in varying ways, like creaking floorboards or windows that groan in the wind. It's only her body heat soaking into the mattress that betrays her existence at all.

Perhaps if she got cold enough, if her body heat became low enough, she would simply blink out of existence.

“Your home is haunted,” Chiyoh says into the blackness, her voice soft and measured, the words always carefully chosen, no room for spontaneity.

Bedelia wonders how long she’s been pondering over those words, how long it took her to choose them to split the post-coital silence with.

“I wasn’t aware that you believed in ghosts,” Bedelia replies, rolling onto her side, the silk sheet bunching and shifting along the line of her hips.

Chiyoh’s laugh is a very strange thing, unpracticed and quiet, like she’s still trying to form it, mold one that suits her.

“I don’t. Even if they did exist, memories haunt us with far more efficiency than any specter ever could.”

Whisky Sweet:

Three months to the day after Bedelia returns to Baltimore, she finds Chiyoh in her home office. Even in a robe, hair loose about her shoulders, her only sign of surprise at finding Chiyoh in Hannibal’s old chair is to pause in the doorway.

“I caged him.”

Hannibal has been in his new home for weeks already, but there’s something final about the way Chiyoh says it, as if she’s taken care of his loose ends. Bedelia suddenly feels sick and wonders if she is the last one.

“Where does that leave you?” she asks, voice calm.

I received two very lovely Hannibal fics this year for Femslash Ex. It was my first year doing the fest and I definitely got spoiled!

wait till you’re announced by Lizzen: Chiyoh/Abigail Two celestial bodies orbiting the same sun.

out of the black (into the blue) by FreshBrains: Chiyoh/Bedelia Du Maurier “He’s gone,” Chiyoh says, voice hollow.

After their encounter in Florence, Chiyoh made sure their paths intertwined again. She was intrigued by the slight woman who matched her so easily, and then played with la polizia while drugs swam in her blood. She had heard of Bedelia from Hannibal’s letters, but seeing and hearing her was different. Bedelia has a way of speaking that leaves Chiyoh thinking about the simplest sentences for hours and days afterwards. “I was curious,” she says finally, lips moving along Bedelia’s inner thigh.

“I approve of curiosity.” Bedelia’s hand lands on Chiyoh’s head, elegant fingers twisting through her hair.

Now Chiyoh laughs, and she’s pleased when a tremor runs through Bedelia at the vibration, because her mouth is so close to where Bedelia really wants it. “I wouldn’t care if you didn’t approve.”