No offense but you guys seriously need to learn to block Leon. Like even if he’s never or rarely interacted with you, block him. Don’t keep feeding his ego, don’t let him interact with you, spread awareness to your friends, report his ass if you’re comfortable with that, but don’t engage with him because it’s only gonna egg him on.
His current url is @/beautysimp if I’m not mistaken, I’ll update if/when it changes. Stay safe
on the day of the reaping, josiah awoke with a piercing headache and bloody knuckles. his breath reeked of liquor and there was a bizarre taste on his tongue - but how else was a boy supposed to celebrate his last guaranteed night in two?
there was always the chance that the large sum of money he had slowly swindled from his own parents’ estate wasn’t enough to sway the ‘chosen volunteer’ to keep his hands nice and close to his side during the reaping. that the threats he’d woven into their interactions over the past few months hadn’t rung true nor convincing.
josiah delisle was chaos personified, yes, but he also knew how to play the game to get the outcome he wanted (as long as it was a short game). and he had his eyes set on the seventy-eighth hunger games for long enough.
as he prepared for the day in his parents’ home, josiah was surrounded by ghosts. he had seen companions leave the academy and district for the games to never return - it was an event common amongst academy trainees. what he hadn’t been prepared for was one of leon’s shirts still sitting at the top of one of his drawers. he paused for a moment before closing the drawer and moving on with preparations to leave for the district center.
a few days after the end of the seventy-seventh games, josiah returned home after a night of drinking and shoved anything and everything that reminded him of leon into the corner of his room - deciding to never look at it again instead of facing how it actually made him feel. they had spent a majority of their time together at josiah’s home, though their relationship hadn’t been a secret for some time. it was just easier that way - josiah’s parents weren’t present enough to truly care about what their son was up to as long as he continued to attend the academy.
and in a fit of rage, he had picked up one of the framed pictures of them both and threw it against the wall. they had been gathering dust in a dark corner after one of leon’s brothers had given them to josiah. some a reminder that they cared about each other and others evidence of how selfish and messy they had been despite that.
hours later, and sober, josiah painstakingly picked the pieces of glass out of his carpet and tried to put it back together again. a bit of blood from his fingertips got caught behind the glass and if josiah had enough energy to see a bigger meaning behind his grief, he may have found it quite fitting.
reaping day in two was always entertaining; the disappointed faces of academy hopefuls, careful arrangements of determined legacy families, and a tangible pride for two and all that it stood for. of course, that was what was broadcast across panem. josiah wasn’t dense enough to think that every single person in the district appreciated the closeness to the capitol or the commitment to the games - especially the families who had been oversold the promise of wealth that a victor in the family could bring.
he had benefited from the age-old ideals for the most part and any small rebellions he took part in were simply for entertainment - and included minor enough transgressions that oftentimes weren’t deemed worth the peacekeepers’ time. an unapproved party in a ‘closed off’ section of the academy or district. when he thought it would be hilarious to challenge an academy hopeful and prove just how comfortable he felt on the sparring mats.
but, josiah had decided that the next step in his journey of unashamed self-destruction required more planning than anything so far. and he was about to find out whether or not it had actually paid off.
so, josiah woke up when he was supposed to wake up and showed up where he was supposed to show up - one of the few times he ever did so. and when he arrived to the district center, he did everything in his power to avoid even a glance in the direction of a de castanheira; a difficult feat in two. he kept his eyes trained ahead, not bothering to look around to see who was gathering in his own roped off section.
the last time josiah delisle spent any length of time with a de castanheira after leon’s death was his funeral. he recognized leon’s brothers and father, stood near the front as their brother and son was remembered. josiah didn’t pay attention to the words being said; he simply stood at the back of the room with his hands clasped behind his back and a steeled look in his eyes. he had already cried, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to do it in front of anyone else.
he waited until everyone had left. and then waited minutes more, maybe an hour.
“you did good,” josiah whispered before turning away and leaving the building.
and josiah held that same expression throughout most of the reaping - gaze locked forward and an intense attention upon not allowing his mind to wander. to not let replays of last year’s reaping play out in front of him, which would be quickly followed by flashes of the arena. of the burning hatred he felt for the games, for the capitol, for anyone who ever decided that this was a good idea. and then the deep desire to see just how far he could push things - at what point they would begin to push back.
with blood boiling, he listened to the escort ramble. head pounding, he saw a blonde-haired girl ascend the stairs - she looked familiar. for the first time in his life, josiah delisle stood where he was told to stand and did what he was told to do.
until he raised his hand up and volunteered as tribute.
