#bemily hunger games au
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Do you have a tag for your hunger games au? I'm rereading the series and it reminded me of your au and how much I adored it
💜💜 appreciate you
https://emilyjunk.tumblr.com/tagged/bemily%20hunger%20games%20au
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Bemily Week Day 2-Enemies to Lovers
(The Hunger Games AU)
-where Beca is a Tribute from District 2 and Emily from 12.
-Emily turns out to be surprisingly good, for a girl from her district and Beca sees her as an obstacle that she has to remove at first, but finds herself falling for the archer in the end…
#bemily#bemily au#bemilyweek2022#bemilyweek#bemilyweekpost#bemilyweekday2#enemies to lovers#enemies to lovers au#the hunger games#the hunger games au#beca mitchell#emily junk#pitch perfect au
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2018 Fic Roundup
Tagged by @emilyjunk bc no one else exposes me like this
Total 2018 Word Count: 169,216
Total 2018 Hits: 25,562
Other 2018 AO3 Stats:
Kudos: 1,682
Comment Threads: 210
Bookmarks: 228
Subscriptions: 242
Links & Titles to 2018 Works: under the cut bc this post is long
I’m just gonna go in chronological order according to the day I started each. All of them are bemily and all of them are incomplete LOL bye
I’m stuck in the dark (but you’re my flashlight) Bemily Week 2018 series (8 works | 27,468 words)
you can have the best of me (and I will give you everything) prompt fics (22 minifics | 54,361 words)
I promise to sing to you (when all the music dies) fake married au but then real married au which turns out to be a secret married au that I WILL update before I die (2,560 words)
you can count on me (if you want to) post-pp2 Emily-centric fic that is much too long (44,117 words)
I want to get lost in you (I’m nothing without you) enemies-to-lovers au (like barely but w/e) that’s 2/3 done?? I guess?? (12,821 words)
oh I swear we’re gonna make it (you should come with me) airport au (10,767 words)
if you help me to start again (I’ll be there for you in the end) music & lyrics au that pulled me through my depression B)
Favorite Fic: a i r p o r t au not because of the plot but bc I LIVE for the airport and travel aesthetic (not even vacation aesthetic, just airports for some reason)
Hardest Fic: I wanna say the post-pp2 one bc it’s so dang long BUT I gotta go with the enemies-to-lovers fic?? bc I’ve been tRyiNg to wrap it up but I literally dk where do go LOL fail
Do you plan on taking prompts in 2019? I mean I’m always accepting, just not always answering (because I....slow....)
What was the best thing about 2018? the fact that I finally got into publicly posting fanfic in general!! wow!!!! all these stats were at zero a year ago!!!!!!!!
What was the worst thing about 2018? the personal issues and depression that kept me from writing as much as I did in the first half of the year :(((((( sad
Any last thoughts for 2018? the first six months and bemily week were great!!! but then my personal life went to shit and so did my writing so there will be none of that nonsense in 2019
Goals for 2019:
finish all them WIPs
purge the prompts in my inbox that I haven’t started (sorry :((( but!!)
take more prompts and respond in a timely manner!! bitch!!!!
feel guiltless about writing things I wanna write about
Tagging: uhhh @elizabethsaige @madstone015 and uhhhhh honestly anyone else who follows me and wants to do this, feel free to claim I tagged you
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bemily hunger games au pt 27
(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8)(part 9) (part 10) (part 11) (part 11.5) (part 12) (part 13) (part 14) (part 15) (part 16) (part 17) (part 18) (part 19) (part 20) (part 21) (part 22) (part 23) (part 24) (part 25) (part 26) (moodboards) (playlists) (read it on ao3)
the days after the visit from beca’s capitol entourage, she’s restless and anxious. the momentary post-Games absence she’d had from that world had managed to numb some of the awfulness (not that she’d forgotten any of it), but now those feelings are bubbling back up in her, present and hungry
days are the worst. at night she dreams -- mostly bad -- but at least she’s asleep, not conscious of her thoughts. during the days, though, she has nothing to occupy her mind or her hands
emily’s at school, her dad at the mill. it’s just beca and that house, that too big, too extravagant house, her thoughts filling up every inch inside it until she feels crushed under their weight
sometimes she walks, just to have space to breathe, but there are always people, and her victory is still fresh on their minds. they always stare as she passes and sometimes they speak to her as she makes her way from shop to shop in the square, looking for anything emily’s family or her dad might need to get them through the winter. she’s got too much money and too many thoughts -- she can’t get rid of any of it
mainly she spends the day waiting for emily to get back from school. emily fills up that house with words and life and distractions. welcome, beautiful distractions, like her face, her laugh, her stories and her hands, chopping vegetables beca’d bought while she speaks, steady and confident from the many years spent looking after her sisters
she’s not just a distraction, though, beca thinks sometimes as she zones out in front of the tv, waiting, waiting. in the capitol, emily would be a tasty distraction to any person who can appreciate a pretty face
no. emily’s more than that to beca. she just doesn’t know how much more. emily is whatever she meant when she’d murmured who says i’m pretending against beca’s cheek.
she’s a faulty radio broadcast stuck on repeat when beca wants to avoid thinking of other things. she’s a reprieve, a confusing but welcome dream. emily is an inhalation, taken deeply into the lungs, a reason to come home again
who says i’m pretending
she’s a warm presence in the night, she’s crisp winter air on the skin, she’s all limbs and soft eyes and inviting lips, a pretty pout, an easy smile, a magnetic mouth drawing beca’s gaze, constant yearning and uncertainty and wanting, wanting, wanting
who says i’m prete--
a knock on the door halts this incessant train of thought. but emily had to stop at her mom’s house after school and it’s too early for her to be back and, beca frowns, she wouldn’t knock anyway. not anymore
she opens the door warily, praying it’s not one of those other victors, what’s-his-face from three houses down wanting to see if she’s got any booze again
“hey,” chloe’s smile is bright, brighter than the autumn sun sinking lower in the sky behind her
“oh,” beca mouths, surprised and, without reason, suddenly on guard. she clears her throat. “uh, hey.”
chloe’s smile flickers, just for a moment, but then it’s back. “can i come in for a second?”
beca nods numbly, holding the door open for chloe to pass. she leads chloe to the kitchen, offering her some water. they awkwardly settle at the kitchen table, staring at each other
“so...” beca says without preamble. “what are you doing here?”
“what,” chloe chuckles, but it’s fake and beca hates it. “i can’t visit my best friend just because?”
beca shrugs
“right,” chloe clears her throat. “no you’re right. i’m here to invite you out actually. there’s a bonfire tonight before curfew. bunch of the old crew is gonna be there and i thought, i dunno, you might wanna come.”
“oh”
“it’s gonna be small, just you know, like stacie and ash and jess and aubrey, and oh, hey! did you know aubrey is friends with emily? you should bring her along”
beca hesitates. “oh,” she says again, if only because she doesn’t know what else to say
chloe seems to realize she hasn’t sold beca on the idea and she leans forward, reaching for beca’s hand across the table. beca flinches, her hand twitching... but after a beat she relaxes, her fingers stilling between chloe’s
“please?” chloe says. “i miss you. and i think it will be really good for you to start getting back to normal”
beca frowns. “back to normal?” a bitter laugh escapes her throat “dude, i don’t think that’s gonna happen”
“of course it is,” chloe says plainly. “you just need to get out and stop moping around here thinking about it. what you went through was unimaginable and i can’t even begin to understand. but holing up by yourself and reliving it 24/7 isn’t gonna help you move past it beca”
beca twists her mouth. “move past it?”
chloe shoots her a small smile, still not getting it. “yeah.”
it’s out of becas mouth before she can help it “maybe i don’t wanna move past it”
chloe’s eyes widen and she leans back slightly. “what? beca”
“you dont get it,” it’s taking all of becas willpower not to shout. “i killed three people. even more died because of me. i can’t just move the fuck past that.”
“no,” chloe backtracks. “of course not. i just meant --”
“you meant that im not the same as i was and you want me to be because you cant deal with the fact that things are different.”
chloe huffs. “that’s not fair. and fine, maybe i don’t want them to be different! is it so bad that i miss you?”
“no but you dont just get to decide how things should be. how i should be!” beca’s vaguely aware of the sound of the front door opening and closing, emily’s shuffling footsteps in the hall. she takes a deep breath, knowing emily will call for her... but it never comes
she hears emily move down the hall, into the family room, quiet and cautious, and wonders if emily heard any of their conversation.
she pulls her hand from chloe’s and chloe leans back in her chair, face pinched.
“listen,” chloe murmurs, “i’m sorry if i don’t understand, but i just want to help. and i think doing stuff that will make you feel a little normal again might.”
beca scoffs. “nothing is going to make me feel normal again, okay? nothing is ever going to be how it was.”
chloe crosses her arms. “so that’s it then? you’re just going to hang around day after day waiting for emily to come home. you’re not going to have a life? friends?”
beca grunts. “that’s not what im saying.”
“it sure feels like that.” chloe hesitates, then-- “she doesn’t even know you.”
“maybe that’s the point. and sorry but neither do you anymore.”
“fine,” chloe snaps, standing and putting on her jacket. “but i’m not just gonna stand aside and let you fester. she’s not the only one who cares about you.”
beca opens her mouth to respond, but a sudden noise slips into the kitchen, and the unexpectedness of it catches her off-guard.
“i..” she starts but can’t finish, distracted by the noise. music, she realizes. piano.
she exhales, trying to focus but her attention is elsewhere. “look i appreciate what you’re doing,” she says to chloe, managing to look at her again. “but i’m not there right now and i dont know when i will be”
chloe looks at her for a long moment, and beca tries to dissect the emotions flitting across her face, but that’s when the music stutters, a botched chord, and beca’s attention dips again, her head turning toward the sound.
is emily playing that?
“fine,” chloe says and beca’s gaze flicks back as chloe starts to walk toward the front door. she follows, half of her attention on chloe and half in the other room. “but the offer is still open. and you’re welcome to bring emily.” she stops at the door, fingers on the handle, turning to look at beca. “i like her, despite everything.”
“despite everything?”
chloe’s face is unreadable, something beca suddenly realizes has never happened before. chloe has always been an open book.
her eyes look over beca’s shoulder, toward the other room, before settling back on beca. “i just thought--” she frowns, cutting off, then sighs and opens the door. a gust of autumn wind blows into the entrance hall and beca shivers as chloe steps outside. “the games,” chloe says, eyes dark as they appraise beca from the front step. “us. everything that’s happened. I just hope she’s worth it all.”
she doesn’t give beca a chance to respond. just pulls her coat tighter around her and heads off down the front steps, turning into the road.
beca watches her go, mouth hanging open, until she’s nothing but a shadowy speck against the horizon
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Hgau pt next pls and ty this isn’t momoko btw just a humble anon
(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8)(part 9) (part 10) (part 11) (part 11.5) (part 12) (part 13) (part 14)(part 15) (part 16) (part 17) (part 18) (part 19) (part 20) (part 21) (part 22) (part 23) (part 24) (part 25) (moodboards) (playlists) (ao3)
beca wakes to gentle fingers on her face
she sucks in a sharp breath, eyes flashing open and body jolting upward
“sorry! sorry. you’re okay, we’re home, you’re safe”
beca realizes she’s in bed and takes a few seconds for her heart to slow. she slumps back into the pillow, relief flooding through her. emily’s been spending the night at her house in victor’s village for a month now, but she usually has already left for school when beca wakes up. or on the weekends she sleeps later than beca does and beca spends a few minutes in easy tranquility, listening to the easy sounds of emily breathing, and peeking glances at her every few seconds. sometimes she lets herself look for longer, if emily is curled up against her and beca can’t easily turn away
emily’s presence in her bed has become a common comfort, warm and solid when beca can’t sleep or when she’s jolted from a nightmare, sweaty and shaken. she’ll turn and look at emily and be reminded that she’s not in that arena anymore. that she made it back home.
“sorry,” emily repeats with a guilty pout. “i didn’t know how best to wake you up”
beca rolls over to look at emily better. emily’s facing her on her side, backlit by the sunny window behind her. her hand is resting on the comforter between them and beca lets her fingers brush up against emily’s
“yeah. it’s… fine.” her voice comes out raspy and emily’s pout gives way to a fond smile, so small and soft beca doesn’t know what to do with it. her breath feels too hot in her lungs
after a moment, emily’s fingers drift back to beca’s face, her thumb gliding over beca’s cheekbone. beca’s whole body sighs, feeling the most relaxed she’s been since… she wants to say since before the reaping, but now that she thinks about it, she can’t really ever remember feeling this relaxed.
they stare at each other for a long second, but then emily frowns and beca knows the moment can’t last
“you have to get up,” emily says, slow and deadpan, like she hates the words coming out of her mouth. “they’re gonna be here soon.”
beca closes her eyes. shit. “i forgot for a second.”
“i know,” emily pouts again. “im sorry. i wanted to let you sleep but they sent a message with their arrival time”
“it’s fine,” beca sighs. “it’s not your fault they suck.”
“beca,” emily whispers, her eyes widening.
“because they’re ruining my beauty sleep, i mean. they could’ve picked a time in the afternoon, you know.”
it’s a lame attempt at a joke, but beca knows it’s enough for anyone who may or may not be listening. emily nods, eyes skittering around the room nervously.
beca pushes herself out of bed. “let’s get ready then. gotta look our best for the cameras.”
for the cameras, for the capitol. for all of panem. it was time for their follow up, a few months after the Games. the first of many. beca would have to do her victory tour over the summer and that would be hell. she didn’t even want to think of it.
emily follows her out of bed and they brush their teeth and get ready. beca tries to play it off like she doesn’t mind what’s about to happen, but she’s pretty sure emily can see through her. she keeps sending furtive looks her way and, halfway through making breakfast, starts to sing softly under her breath. when she passes behind beca, she lingers, her hand gliding over beca’s back, her pretty singing voice soft in beca’s ear. beca has to admit it works because her anxiety cools to background jitters for a little while
finally it’s about time. beca gives herself a last glance over in the mirror and frowns. she’s still getting used to capitol-nice clothing. she usually wears her old stuff, but she has to look nice for her entourage she guesses.
emily comes up behind her while she’s staring in the mirror and moves her hair off her neck.
“i’m sorry you have to be part of this,” beca says. “i’m sorry your life is like this now too. that we have to… pretend.”
“you saved my life. don’t be sorry.” emily sighs and beca can feel it on her skin. “it’ll be over soon,” she murmurs. “for the day at least.”
beca nods, watching emily’s reflection, the pretty brown of her eyes. emily catches her looking and her lips twitch upward. her arms come around beca’s waist and her chin lands on beca’s shoulder. it’s soft, and intimate, and beca heats up from the inside out.
“you’re better at pretending than i am.”
emily turns to look at her and her nose brushes the underside of beca’s chin. “who says im pretending?”
beca’s mouth goes dry and her brain must short-circuit because she can’t think of anything to say. she stares and stares and stares. emily just laughs. “come on, i think i can hear them outside.”
sure enough, beca can hear clanging from outside and the low hum of muffled conversation. emily kisses her on the cheek and releases her, moving out of the bedroom and down the stairs.
beca drifts after her, the commotion from outside just background noise, even as emily opens the door and greets beca’s glam squad.
who says im pretending
it’s not like they aren’t that physically close usually. they hold hands and sit close on the couch and beca sometimes can’t even sleep these days if emily’s not touching her in some way. but that’s all she thought it was… an easy comfort between them, something that existed out of necessity. at least beca had thought so, but…
there was always that lingering yearning, that veiled confusion that beca didn’t acknowledge because their relationship wasn’t normal. beca had forced it into existence the second she stepped forward that fateful day and changed everything
she never thought it would mean anything beyond that, beyond the narrative they have to tell for the cameras
she really didn’t even stop to consider to think it might be something real
she steps outside after emily, hearing the offending squeals of her stylists and the general horrible capitol-ness from their district representative. it makes her stomach turn as she remembers she’ll be the center of attention for the rest of this horrible day, surrounded by these vapid, clueless people
but then emily extends her hand and beca takes it, letting emily pull her against her
emily talks and laughs with her team, taking the attention off beca, even if just for a moment, and beca feels gratefulness and tenderness and fondness for emily settle deep, deep inside her
she doesn’t know if it’s pretend, for herself or for emily, but when emily snakes her arm around her waist and tucks beca protectively against her side, beca decides that in that moment, she doesn’t really care
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Btw my new icon is district 7 tribute beca mitchell from my bemily hunger games au courtesy of my amazing son @chloebeale !! Cole is currently open for commissions so slide into his DMs for more amazing content like this!!!!
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Sorry it’s me again but I just found your Bemily hunger games au and boy I was crying at 3AM all your stuff is so good 😫
lmao omg youse guys like the pain of that au too much. thank u tho <3
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Pt 25???
(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8)(part 9) (part 10) (part 11) (part 11.5) (part 12) (part 13) (part 14)(part 15) (part 16) (part 17) (part 18) (part 19) (part 20) (part 21) (part 22) (part 23) (part 24) (moodboards) (playlists)
emily always feels out of place when she steps into victor’s village, 12 large mansions circled around a sprawling green. beca’s is the farthest in the back, so emily has to decide if she should walk around the park, awkwardly passing all the other houses, or cut through it, feeling guilty for enjoying the lush greenery and ornate fountains, so lavish compared to the poverty of some of district 7.
she knows she could avoid victor’s village altogether, that beca would come to see her in the shabby hut she calls home. her sisters and mom adore beca, not only because she volunteered for emily in the games but because she’s always bringing them clothes and sweets they wouldn’t get otherwise. beca claims it’s because she has more money than she knows what to do with, and she’s probably right, but emily has a sneaking suspicion that it’s beca’s way of showing affection. beca’s not exactly one for hugs and emily guesses she probably wasn’t even before the games
despite all that, emily tries to visit victor’s village once a day, after school or in the evening for dinner. she can’t really help it. all day at school, she tries to imagine what beca’s doing in that big house, all alone with her thoughts
beca doesn’t share them with her much, but sometimes when they’re together, beca’s eyes go far away, and emily wonders if she’s back in the games or in some deeper, darker place where emily can’t reach her
they go to that place more often as the days drag on, as beca settles into her new life, without school or work or any kinds of distractions, just that big empty house and nothing to do
being in beca’s house makes her feel insignificant, with its fancy appliances, capitol tech, sparkly chandeliers. there’s a couch as big as emily’s kitchen and a large television where she can watch all the capitol programming, both news and entertainment. there’s even a piano, one that emily itches to play, but she’s afraid to ask, doesn’t really know her boundaries with beca yet
still, it captivates emily day in and day out. she yearns to break the heavy silence that falls over the house almost constantly. she wants to breathe music into that space, to feel the thrum of life within the walls. she’s not that great at piano, but she knows how to play from church, and she thinks if they have to suffer all this, if beca has to live here, then why not milk it for what it’s worth?
but then she looks at beca, at her far-away eyes, and thinks better of it
beca’s pain sometimes fills emily like a song anyway. she can feel it deep inside her when she thinks about jesse and knows it must be magnified within beca in ways emily can’t possibly imagine.
it’s in beca’s smile, rarely given and so so small, but always genuine and endlessly beautiful
it’s in the way beca will hold her hand, at first tentative but then certain
they spend nights like that, holding hands on the couch, quietly talking about the smallest of things, like emily’s day at school or their families, until it gets late and emily has to walk back home because of curfew
they always leave her confused, her evenings with beca
she’s constantly conflicted about her feelings. part of her wishes they would talk about the games, but part of her is afraid to. she doesn’t want to get mad at beca, doesn’t feel like it’s her place to be upset about jesse. she knows it’s not fair to beca, that beca did what she could, but sometimes emily misses him so much that it rises up inside her as anger
she always pushes it down
and there’s the part of her that’s scared, the part that knows what beca did in that arena, that saw the feral, unhinged girl that looked like beca – but also didn’t – emerge from the smoke and bloodshed, somehow alive when everyone else had died
and there’s the part of her that feels love for beca
that part might be the most confusing because she doesn’t know if she’s falling for what beca did for her, or if she’s falling for beca herself, and if it’s the second, then she doesn’t know which beca she’s falling for. she doesn’t know if it’s the beca that saved her life, that volunteered for her and kept emily praying she’d come home. and she doesn’t know if it’s this new beca either, this sadder, seemingly older beca, with her careful eyes and giant heart. the girl who brings emily’s family presents and who reaches for emily’s hand when emily thinks she’ll pull away instead.
the girl who surprises emily one night, her voice a breathless whisper breaking the silence they’ve been sitting in for some time, emily reading while beca pretends to watch tv
“i know it doesn’t make sense, but sometimes i really miss him”
emily looks up from her school book, cautious and curious
“who?”
beca frowns, fingers playing with emily’s fingers and avoiding emily’s eyes. finally she takes a deep breath and looks up.
“jesse”
emily blinks slowly, her book falling shut. she feels the immediate sting of tears in her eyes, but she forces them back because even though she misses him, beca was there, felt it first hand, and what right does emily have to be upset when beca finally wants to talk about it
“me too” she murmurs.
“it’s crazy because… honestly, he bugged the crap out of me. he wouldn’t leave me alone leading up to the games. he was always there, talking strategy with me, teasing me about… you. and i didn’t get it, how he could be so… i dunno, optimistic and hopeful. there was nothing hopeful about that place.”
emily’s lips twitch, the barest amount. she almost wants to laugh. “he was just like that.”
“it’s like… as much as i found him annoying and wanted to be left alone, i still wanted him around” beca says
“i know the feeling,” emily agrees. “he had a way of wiggling into your life and making himself at home.”
beca nods, her teeth biting over her lower lip as she meets emily’s eyes. “i’m really sorry, em,” she whispers.
a wave of emotion swells inside her and she squeezes beca’s hand. “it’s not…” she clears her throat, biting back all the unsaid things she’s been holding close to her heart. “it’s not your fault.”
“he died so he could save me.”
“i know. I just mean… no matter what happened. you couldn’t have done anything different. only one person can win. no matter how unfair it is or how we feel about it… it’s just. it’s not your fault. it’s just how the games have to be.”
beca’s mouth thins. “do they, though?”
emily hesitates, mulling over her words carefully. “maybe not always, but right now, yes.”
beca’s eyes flash dangerously and for the briefest second emily wants to yank her hand away. then beca softens, her body going slack. “im sorry anyway.”
emily can’t respond, doesn’t know the right words. so she just lifts beca’s hand to her lips and kisses it. puts it against her cheek. she likes the soft warmth of beca’s skin against hers.
“i should get going,” emily says at last. “curfew.”
“you should stay.” beca’s eyes widen and she backtracks. “I mean… if you want to, then you can stay. here. with me.”
a surge of fondness pulses in her chest and she knows, suddenly and without a doubt, that she would be incapable of leaving now if she tried. “okay,” she says easily, loving the happy flush that’s spread over beca’s cheeks.
as they go to sleep, crawling under the covers in beca’s giant, comfy bed (bigger and comfier than emily could have ever dreamed of existing) emily feels that pull of conflict again, that strange part of her that feels herself falling at war with the part of her that doesn’t know which beca she’s falling for.
but, emily thinks, as she pulls beca into her arms and feels beca’s tense muscles start to relax, feels the easy rightness of holding beca close to her chest, she’s not sure it really matters
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You already know lol pt 24 pleassseeee :)))
(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8)(part 9) (part 10) (part 11) (part 11.5) (part 12) (part 13) (part 14)(part 15) (part 16) (part 17) (part 18) (part 19) (part 20) (part 21) (part 22) (part 23) (moodboards) (playlists)
beca moves into Victor’s Village, taking the 4th of the 12 houses. she picks the one all the way at the end, away from the other victors. she doesn’t want to talk to them.
she offers for her dad to come too, but the village is far from the mill where he works, so he decides to stay in his old house, visiting her a few times a week for dinner that’s always quick and quiet.
beca’s secretly grateful... she can’t stand to be around anyone right now. half of people congratulate her, telling her their favorite part of the games, how much money they won betting on her. the other half just stare at her, treating her like she might break any second
the worst part is that they’re right. she feels caught somewhere between fragile and numb, and there’s not much she can do to make it go away
chloe and stacie come around sometimes, after school and on the weekends. beca can only stand them in small doses because even though they all know everything is different, they keep trying to act like it’s the same. beca doesn’t feel the same at all and wonders, deep down, if the new-her can even stand her old friends at all
sometimes she wonders if they can stand the new beca either
one day chloe asks her, hesitant and quiet, why she volunteered for emily
beca doesn’t have an answer but the question makes her angry and she doesn’t know why
“it just felt right” she grunts “i don’t know”
“but why”
“stop chloe,” stacie hushes
“it just doesn’t make sense!”
beca thinks it’s pointless, trying to make sense of what she did. what she did before the games and what she did during them, and she hates that her friends keep trying to fit her into the mold of the person she used to be, right up until the moment they called emily’s name on reaping day
she’s not that person anymore
her friends aren’t the only ones to visit. emily comes by every day, even though it’s far from her home and school
at first it’s awkward, the two of them together. neither of them can think of anything to say. they don’t know each other, but after everything that’s happened, talking about the things you tell someone so they can know you seems too trivial. what would they talk about? their favorite colors? the people at school? it doesn’t seem right
mostly they just sit in silence, exchanging small words about the changing weather, how it’s getting colder. emily tells her how her house gets almost too cold in the winter, how there’s not much money left to stay warm between her 4 sisters
beca buys them all expensive capitol cold-weather clothing the next day. she has more money than she can even fathom now and nothing to spend it on. she drops it by emily’s house when she and her sisters are at school and her mom at work, but she’s pretty sure emily knows it’s from her
when she comes by after school, she wraps beca up in a careful hug, tender and thankful, and beca sinks it into it
she thinks being around emily is easy, maybe because emily didn’t know the person she was before the games and has no previous image or memories to measure beca up to, no before and after comparison to make
to emily, she’s just beca, this beca, and that’s enough
beca’s not sure of their relationship, it’s not friends, exactly, and it’s not more than that, although it somehow also is. beca feels a heavy weight between them, like everything means a little more than it seems on the surface. sometimes emily looks at her like there’s so much she wants to say and sometimes beca wishes she would say it, but emily never does
instead, they sit together in the quiet, in that big house, too big. beca finds comfort in that, in the way emily holds her hand, in the way they look at each other, carefully taking the other in. the longer beca stares, the more beautiful she thinks emily is
the more days that pass, the more things don’t get better, the more she can’t forget, the more beca can feel a horrible storm building in her, one she doesn’t know how to get rid of
but with emily, everything feels just a little bit easier
with emily, everything feels just a little more okay
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pt 23 PLEASE
(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8)(part 9) (part 10) (part 11) (part 11.5) (part 12) (part 13) (part 14)(part 15) (part 16) (part 17) (part 18) (part 19) (part 20) (part 21) (part 22) (moodboards) (playlists)
Beca can tell the moment they both realize the underlying horror of everything that’s happened the past few weeks and the striking weirdness of their relationship
they both seem to stiffen at the same time, emily’s arms going rigid, beca completely stilling
they don’t know each other, haven’t ever embraced in such a way... haven’t ever embraced at all really, except for that desperate frantic hug right before beca was taken away for the games
beca pulls back, her own arms wrapping around herself as if she could replace the tenderness she felt in emily just a moment ago... but it’s gone with emily’s arms, falling back to her sides
still, emily’s giving her a look, strong and intense, like she can’t bear to blink even once now that beca’s back in front of her
beca doesn’t know what to do with that and her eyes fixate on the ground
soon the crowd grows restless of beca’s friends and family hogging their victor and she gets pulled away. she shakes hands with strangers, receives congratulations and thanks and well-wishes from what seems like everyone in district 7
she hates it, doesn’t want to have won like this. doesn’t like that they’re celebrating when the families of 23 others are mourning. when jesse’s family is out there mourning
what beca really wants is to be alone, back in her room at her tiny house near the lake where it’s just her and dad
but the thought of being alone isn’t exactly comforting either, so she feels horribly stuck between wanting solitude and needing a distraction from the grief, from the horror, from feeling anything at all
she finds a kind of middle ground several hours into the celebration, after the feasting and the dancing. she sneaks down an alley and sinks to her knees, hidden in the darkness. she can hear the sounds of the party in the distance and takes a moment to just breathe, leaning against the wooden building behind her and shutting her eyes on the cool night
the sound of careful footsteps, not loud but not so quiet so as to startle her, crunches over the gravel a few minutes later. she opens her eyes as emily eases down next to her
they sit in silence for a long time, not quite touching, but beca can feel the warmth of emily’s body heat and finds an unexpected comfort in that
there’s a lot she wants to say, but nothing she feels that she should. what could she say that would be justified? what could she say that would sound genuine and right?
she can’t talk about the games but how could they talk about anything else either? she finds she can’t really speak at all
emily seems content to sit in silence anyway, and the two of them just breathe into the night
“they’re probably looking for me” beca says at last, feeling like they’ve been away too long, like if the positions were switched she wouldn’t want her loved ones to be out of sight after all that for more than a minute
“yeah” emily agrees, the word barely a breathy exhale
neither of them make any move to get up
“i don’t think i can go back” beca whispers
emily looks at her, her long hair falling in waves over her shoulders, her dark eyes nearly invisible against the backdrop of night
she reaches her hand out, tentative and gentle, and twines her fingers with beca’s
they feel rough against beca’s, soft and scarless and manicured to perfection in her post-games capitol treatment
“whatever you want to do is what we’ll do”
beca squeezes emily’s fingers, adjusting to the unfamiliarity of them between her own, but liking the weight of emily’s hand in hers just the same
“why are you here? i mean...” beca swallows “you don’t owe me for what i did, okay? i just... there’s no debt to be repaid or... or reason you need to be with me. i just did it and it’s done now and... you don’t need to be here with me”
emily exhales thickly, her palm sweaty against beca’s. “i don’t think i really belong anywhere else tonight”
beca has nothing to say to that, doens’t want emily to feel guilty or like she owes beca... but she’s glad emily’s here anyway. she curls her knees to her chest, resting her head against the wood of the building behind her
“okay” she says
“okay”
they sit like that for a long time, until the sounds of the party start to quiet and the air grows almost too cold to keep sitting and the stars above them twinkle into full brightness
through it all, neither of them say anything else, and neither of them let go
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i just finished reading your bemily hg au, and just , holy hot damn that was a whole lot of ~emotions~ and whatnot and i enjoyed the hell out of it
Thank you!!! :') I'll probably update it soon
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I love your Bemily Hunger Games au, do you plan on making more chapters any time soon?
oh geez. i always hope so! i say yes but then i blink and it’s like 3 months later lol...... i do want to update though so hopefully
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Bemily Hunger Games AU pt21 for @moxiemorton who made me think about it after all this time
(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8)(part 9) (part 10) (part 11) (part 11.5) (part 12) (part 13) (part 14)(part 15) (part 16) (part 17) (part 18) (part 19) (part 20) (moodboards) (playlists)
“i’m ready for this to end. tonight.”
beca says the words and emily’s heart drops. it must fall all the way to her stomach because she suddenly feels like she might throw up.
next to her, chloe has gone still and silent. they’ve just watched beca kill a girl, and now, her face bathed in shadow, she looks almost like she was made of darkness
it’s nighttime in the arena, but outside of chloe’s window, the sun beats down on district 7 with a fury, making emily sweat. or maybe that’s just the look on beca’s face, foreign and skeletal
emily’s stomach turns and she chokes back the urge to throw up
they creep into the city, one after the other, using the flashlight emily had asked for, pooling the money of everyone she could in the square to help their victor. she didn’t get much, but she got enough it seemed, because just three hours after she handed it over at the city building with a message, she watched beca climb down from that tree, the flashlight in her hands
emily just hopes she didn’t catalyze some sort of suicide mission
when the screen splits four ways, emily nearly faints
in one corner, beca standing still and quiet as she peeks around the corner of a skyscraper, flicking the flashlight on and off
in another corner, amy and benji creeping through the city
in the third corner, the district 1 tributes hiding out
and in the last corner, the boy with the tracker jacker stings, somehow still in the games, slinking up behind beca, mouth twisted in an evil grin
when he puts the knife to beca’s skin, emily gasps out a sob
chloe’s hand squeezes her wrist so tight she cant feel her fingers
and then -- chaos
emily almost can’t follow it all, it happens so fast
bumper keeling over, dead by benji’s sword
benji on the ground, pieter smug above him
the horrible beasts, finally shown on the camera, with their twisted whiskers and floppy ears and terrible eyeless faces
they chase down the tributes, one after the other and emily thinks, this is it, this is how beca dies, cornered in a closet... but then she’s safe, the mutt turning away
and then again, emily thinks, beca will die, her neck snapped the same way benji’s was, but then -- no, beca wriggles out from under the lifeless body of the district 1 boy.
and again, emily can’t breathe, fights back nausea, watches beca trapped on the ground, mutts hovering over her... and then they’re not, then they’re following amy away and it’s just beca left, just beca and kommissar, wrestling on the ground
beca, weaponless and tiny, and emily’s stomach roils, it twists, she can’t breathe
she wonders if the capitol can manipulate the speed of live television on their screens, wonders if they slow it down or if emily’s heart is going so fast that everything else seems much slower
she watches as beca wiggles the flashlight from her waistband, flashing it in kommissar’s eyes. the large girl shrieks, and beca rolls, grabbing the tiny knife she used to kill pieter. she thrusts it into kommissar’s back, an embrace that happens at half-speed
kommissar spurts a mouthful of blood into beca’s face and goes limp
then everything is silent, the camera zooming in on beca
she slumps into the ground, her cheeks caked with dirt and blood so thick it’s nearly black
she’s visibly shaking, breathing ragged and weak
but there’s something in her expression, some terrible thrill, some horrible triumph and emily, through her fear, her nausea, her own quiet turmoil, wonders...
“Ladies and Gentlemen! I am pleased to announce the winner of the Sixty-Eighth Annual Hunger Games! Your victor, of District 7, Beca Mitchell!”
tears run down beca’s cheeks as she stares blankly into space, directly into an invisible camera, and her lips twitch minutely, a ghost of a smile, one that says relief and shock and -- emily wonders.... a victorious satisfaction
that’s when finally, after, everything, emily throws up
#bemily hunger games au#for u mo#it's a bit of a filler/here's what you missed on glee from emily's pov#but you know#we gotta know that she had no thoughts while this was happening she was simply trying not to throw up#rip bb#bemily#nwmm
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Hunger Games AU part 22! :)))
(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8)(part 9) (part 10) (part 11) (part 11.5) (part 12) (part 13) (part 14)(part 15) (part 16) (part 17) (part 18) (part 19) (part 20) (part 21) (moodboards) (playlists)
it is known throughout the district that little else compares to the leaves of district 7. when the season turns, the leaves seem to melt into different colors, an entire spectrum of light across the treeline
beca walks down to the lake, to their lake, admiring the leaves as she goes. she loves the green of them, fresh and new, and she loves the orange, like a sunset painting the sky. the yellow, like the golden light that dances through emily’s hair in the summer. the reds leave her feeling uneasy, a spattering of a memory floating to the surface somewhere from the realm of consciousness, but she can’t think about that
she smiles when emily comes into view, sitting on the edge of the dock, her feet submerged in water up to the ankles
beca feels a nervousness rise in her, one she can’t explain
emily hasn’t seen her so she climbs into the tree she always climbs in, the quiet rustling of the trees almost indistinguishable from the breeze
she perches on a branch and that uneasiness tugs on her consciousness, like a place she’s been before for much different reasons, but she can’t place it
instead she listens to emily’s voice, so sweet against the backdrop of autumn, warm and welcoming and hopeful
come down emily says, laughter in her voice. we know you’re up there
beca peers through the changing leaves, lips twitching in a smile
we?
emily finally turns to look at her, but the smile on her face is stretched too wide, like a wax figure like a mask like it’s melting and morphing and and and – wrong
beca flinches, afraid, and she knows it’s wrong, wanting to climb higher, to climb away from emily – or this emily-but-not-emily – but she can’t help it
we can’t wait to see you emily giggles but it’s wrong it’s wicked it’s deep it’s not-emily
beca gasps as figures suddenly emerge from the water behind not-emily and she scrambles higher in the tree, reservations forgotten as the shadowy figures materialize, ghosts of figures beca barely recognizes
we can’t wait to see you, sneers the girl from district 4
you belong with us, grins the boy from district 10
you are ours, says the boy from district 1
you’re one of us, whispers the girl from 1
and then him – reaching up through the branches, his smile so kind, so easy, so familiar even from here
stop! beca screams. leave me alone!
you did this beca, jesse says easily, his hand extended pleasantly, you made us this
no, beca sputters, edging higher in the tree as his hand reaches through the leaves, his fingers inches from beca’s foot. i didn’t have a choice, i didn’t mean to, i didn’t do this
didn’t you?
i didn’t make you this… you’re just a shadow
and what are you?
beca tries to scoot backward on the branch, but her body gives out underneath her and she slips – she falls she falls she falls, her body plummeting toward the ground toward the dead leaves in the grass, toward death
she braces herself for impact and –
her eyes fly open as she jerks awake and she shoots upward, clutching at her chest
outside the window, the train rattles on, sending her back to district 7
she puts her head in her hands, surprised to find her cheeks wet
she wipes them and curls up, knees to chest, and rests her head against the window, watching the as the trees start to turn familiar the longer the train speeds onward, bringing her home
home… it’s all she’s been able to think about since she was in the arena… during the games and the horrible days after, healing in the capitol’s med-center, rewatching the game highlights, the post-game interview where she felt robotic and detached, like her answers were scripted
all she remembers from her time onstage with caesar was the moment she had expressed how much she just wanted to go home and he had smiled knowingly at her
“to emily, you mean? she’ll be so happy to see you”
and beca had, for the first time, come to the stark realization that she would be reunited with emily. she had thought, until the end, that they would never see each other again
now, as the train pulls up to the district 7 station, beca feels a stretching anxiety in her stomach
how could she face any of them? how could she face her father? her friends?
and emily… the girl for who she volunteered, a distant stranger she barely knew at all
surely emily would want reasons for beca’s actions. reasons beca didn’t have
and surely… surely… she would want beca to answer for jesse’s death
surely she would hate beca – beca the coward, beca the murderer, beca the spineless
beca, who watched emily’s best friend die while she sat on the sidelines and did nothing
a celebration meets her ears as the train doors slide open and beca peers out nervously. the roar of applause and cheering from a blur of bodies crashes over her and it makes her entire body shake with nerves and regret and fear
then the faces at the front crystallize, coming into focus
her father, a sad smile on his lips as he rushes to hug her
stacie and chloe – both in tears as they pull her into their arms
and then – emily. just staring, taking beca in like it’s the last chance, like she expected to never see her again, like she’s finally breathing again after holding her breath for too long
and then her arms wrap beca in a hug, one around beca’s waist, one holding beca’s head to her chest
“welcome home,” she whispers into beca’s hair, her nose brushing over beca’s forehead
and for the first time since the reaping, beca feels…
safe
#bemily hunger games au#whomp idk#here's some filler#i guess the hurt comfort will have to come next time#anyway#anonymous
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Do you think you’ll continue the Hunger Games AU?
i just wrote this and it was sooo long and epic but then it GOT DELETED BC I CLICKED OFF OF IT.... anyway im crying here is the second probably less epic version bc i cant remember what i wrote IM CRYING
(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8)(part 9) (part 10) (part 11) (part 11.5) (part 12) (part 13) (part 14)(part 15) (part 16) (part 17) (part 18) (part 19) (moodboards) (playlists)
beca pushes off of the ground, her breath ragged, her fingers clenched around her knife. the blood of the boy from district 1 drips from the end, but she doesn’t have it in her to care. she wipes it on her pants and turns to the pile of supplies in front of her
she scans it quickly, looking for anything that might help her. most of the weapons are useless to her. she doesn’t know how to shoot a bow and arrow and the sword looks way too heavy for her. she grabs a metallic baton, having no idea what it’s for but she thinks she could hit someone over the head with it
numbly, she leaves the pile and creeps through the empty building lobby back to the entrance, and peers out of the splintered windows. the night still hangs heavy, dark and thick. she can’t see very far, but it looks clear, so she steps outside
the distant sounds of snarling and very-human yelling reach her ears. despite her better judgment, she makes her way toward the sounds
as she gets closer, she peeks around the corner of a building and takes in the scene.
the mutts have cornered amy and kommissar, the two of them having climbed up a rickety metallic ladder attached to a building. fire escape, beca’s distant mind supplies. the mutts growl beneath them, hearing the creaking of metal as it shifts under amy and kommissar’s weight. the ladder swings precariously and the mutts growl impatiently, waiting for it to give out.
beca takes the baton she grabbed from the supply pile and flings it in the opposite direction of herself and the ladder. it clatters off in the near-distance and all the mutts whip their heads toward the sound. they blindly run after it and beca hurries up to the ladder. they’re distracted for a moment, but they won’t be for long
“amy,” she whisper-yells. “this thing is gonna fall. here!” she reaches her hand up toward her ally. amy peers down at her. above them, kommissar has already begun to climb down. in just a minute, she’ll be at their level.
amy takes a careful hand off the ladder, but as her weight shifts, the ladder creaks and swings with a violent jolt. amy slips --
and crashes down on top of beca. with a sickening crack, beca’s ankle twists and gives out, the two of them slamming into the ground. beca’s head hits the concrete and she sees stars
the snarling of the beasts pauses, then beca hears the scraping of their claws as their attention moves back to their human prey once again
amy pushes off of beca but beca can’t move, her vision still swimming, her ankle throbbing
“well, we had a good run lovergirl. i’ll see you on the otherside.”
“here,” beca holds her knife up for amy to take, but amy just laughs
“no, you got it wrong. im done. this has been... way too much cardio. you better win though or i’ll kill you.”
and with that, she runs off, screaming over her shoulder as she goes. “hey ugly dogs, LET’S WRESTLE!”
the mutts let out a collective howl, bodies skidding across the concrete as their attention is diverted by amy’s sudden yell. they run after her. in the distance, their snarling grows louder until a sudden boom rocks the air. a cannon blast marking another fallen tribute
beca doesn’t have time to do anything other than feel shock at amy’s self-sacrifice because the heavy weight of a body lands on her. she jumps, her knife flying from her fingers as hands grip her around the neck
“goodbye tiny mouse”
beca gasps for air as the hands squeeze her windpipe closed. she glares up at the girl from district 1, unable to move. she reaches for her knife, just inches away, can feel the metal on the edge of her fingertips, but it’s too far.
she’s weaponless and afraid, out of air and dying god she’s about to die, just like this, she’s dying oh god
the girl’s body presses in on her, her weight heavy on beca, pushing the cylinder at her belt into beca’s skin
beca doesn’t think as she reaches between their bodies, reacts purely on instinct and desperation. she pulls the flashlight from her belt and points it upward into the face of the girl as she clicks the button at the top
a piercing light illuminates the darkness, shining into the eyes of the girl. she shrieks, her grip on beca loosening as she tries to block the light
beca gasps in a breath and rolls to the side, grabbing her knife. in one fluid motion she grips it and brings it up, stabbing it between kommissar’s shoulder blades with all her strength
kommissar gasps and beca squeezes her tighter, nearly hugging her to her chest as she forces the blade in with all her might. she twists it and blood pours over her hands, slippery and wet. kommissar’s breathing goes ragged, coming out in pants into beca’s face until a clump of blood spurts out, directly into beca’s eyes. it’s warm and thick and beca can’t think, she can’t think, she just pushes the knife in as far as it will go
finally, kommissar slumps on top of her, her weight nearly crushing beca underneath.
beca’s heart is going so fast she barely hears the cannon over the pounding of it in her ears
she lets out a sob, but she can’t tell the difference between the hot blood and tears on her cheeks
suddenly, overhead, a speaker crackles to life, and claudius templesmith’s voice booms into the night. “Ladies and Gentlemen! I am pleased to announce the winner of the Sixty-Eighth Annual Hunger Games! Your victor, of District 7, Beca Mitchell!”
Beca doesn’t hear applause, doesn’t hear music, although she thinks something is playing over the speakers. She just hears her own ragged breathing as an invisible hovercraft materializes above her, the one that will take her home
It’s time, she tells the voice in her head, the one that’s finally gone silent, or maybe it was her all along, maybe it was just her voice she was hearing, maybe she’s the beast, maybe it’s her - the snarling monster... maybe... maybe... the tears on her face come quicker as she grips the ladder that’s descended from the hovercraft and it lifts her into the air
It’s time to go home
#hunger games au#bemily hunger games au#oh worm#tw death#tw blood#tw violence#tw gore#all that stuff#we made it kids...#rip everyone!!!!!!!#time 2 go home beca#my writing#bulletfic#anyway the first version was way cooler and better written but then it got deleted and i was discouraged so#bleh#Anonymous
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Are you going to keep doing the hunger games au? I don't want it to end but now the games are over so I feel like it would be ending soon
Yeah I'll probably keep doing it as long as people keep asking for it! I do kind of have an ending place in mind but nothing particularly concrete that im attached to... it kinda depends if people are still reading it lol like I'd probably just find an ending point if people stopped requesting more parts. Theres still a bit left as far as I've thought about it in my mind but I could extend or shorten it depending on how long people want it I guess
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