𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 as a fourth year isn’t enough to allow remington to escape the frustratingly rudimentary courses, and there’s only so many hours he can spend in the gym before he starts to lose his fucking mind. it’s lunchtime by the time he’s done showing a gaggle of firsts how he can make them– and they can make their targets– go down with perfectly-placed strike to the brachial plexus, but even that isn’t enough to curb the frustration that curls within his stomach. maybe his dad was onto something by losing himself in a bottle every night, at least it provided the perfect excuse to ignore, well, everything until one of his sons inevitably breathed in his direction and earned themselves a free raccoon eye. he spots a familiar mess of hair upon entering the cafeteria, and without preamble, he tosses his large frame into a neighboring chair. ‘ and miss my one true fantasy of watching you shove noodles in your mouth ‘til you gag ? not bloody likely .’
—EH, ON SECOND THOUGHT, maybe he would have preferred eating alone than to suffer through the over-enunciated -ings of the pretentious sasquatch falling into the chair across from him. you’d think after years of trekking through the woods and traumatizing cub scouts on the annual camping trip he would have learned to better navigate all those gangly limbs. “ joke’s on you, man, i don’t have a gag reflex. therefore, i have the right to gargle chef boyardee’s ravioli-shaped nuts whenever i want. ” he punctuates the sentiment with another mouthful of diabetes, this time savoring the bite with an entirely too loud mewl that would make his mother blush if the botox would allow it. “ where have you been all day, huh ? getting it in with the american birds who still think sounding like harry potter is cute ? ”
IT’S ONLY THE CALL of his screaming stomach that resurrects him from the dingy CAVE he calls a dorm room. the webs of bloodshot eyes and his sandpaper cadence—courtesy of approximately thirteen and a half hours of barking at asshats on xbox—are the tells that he hasn’t so much as touched a page of his coursework. instead, he’s sinking into the too plush cushions of a cafeteria chair and eating his weight in the most artfully made spaghetti he’s ever put in his mouth. still, it doesn’t hit quite right—it’s no crunchwrap supreme. there’s a body somewhere in his periphery, and he casts them a glance, gestures to the vacant seat across the table. “ —you gonna make me eat alone ? ”
⌠ HARRY STYLES, TWENTY-THREE, CISMALE, HE/HIM ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, MADDOX ‘MADDIE’ KNIGHT ! according to their records, they’re a FOURTH year, specializing in KNIFE FIGHTING SKILLS, SWORD TRAINING, PRECISION SHOOTING, FIREARMS & SWAT TRAINING, SHARPSHOOTING + THREAT ELIMINATION; and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of ( the smoldering end of a cigarette, the chipping scabs of bloodied knuckles, well-worn boots just one step from falling apart ). when it’s the ( leo )’s birthday on 08/16/96, they always request their CHICKEN BUCATINI from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation.
name: maddox knight, though he prefers to go by maddie
age: twenty-three
birthday: august 16, 1996
zodiac sign: leo
height: 6′0
specialties: hand-to-hand combat, manipulation, super smash bros.
vices: cigarettes, gin, and the occasional bump in a club bathroom
virtues: lmao ... he thinks lemon desserts are vastly underrated. does that count ?
first things first, maddie is the black sheep of his family. he’s the youngest of three with two grossly successful, much older brothers and too-wealthy parents who stopped caring the second that last test showed positive.
he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, but it was held there by a nanny. he was far from coddled, unlike his brothers. the first few years of his life he gave a shit, figured he’d need to earn the respect of his father before showing up on the radar, but that light was snuffed out pretty quickly.
his dad owns a finance company, and his mom blows the income ( and men that aren’t maddie’s father ) on a regular basis. they’re both distant to him, disappearing and reappearing only for the holidays. maddie’s known for years he’s not really his father’s son—the way the man regards him is a dead giveaway. they’ve never been close in the slightest, and if anything their relationship is full of mutual loathing.
his dad is, for lack of a better term, a ruthless motherfucker with his vices. he’s a binge drinker which he attributes to long hours, and with the other boys out of the house at the ripe old age of twelve, maddie took the brunt of his dad’s wrath. his mom, of course, turned a blind eye to all of it, slipping out of the house during screaming arguments and battle royales as if it wasn’t her son in the wake.
in short, it fucked maddie up. his middle school teachers were too enthralled by his father’s generous donations that they didn’t mind the decembers when his father would drag him out of school by his collar to showboat at some pretentious christmas party for business monarchs. it made maddie fiercely protective of himself, and he learned how to defend himself when the first blow landed.
he wasn’t a hard worker at school, way too infatuated with absorbing all of the attention he could get, good or bad, and he was always in detention for schoolyard fights and cruel bullying. he supposes that was his outlet for the shit he struggled with at home.
maddie was very into sports, and he would join just about anything to get him out of the house on weeknights—baseball, football, basketball, you know the drill. no pun intended. his parents didn’t really care where he ended up on the weekends, so outside of those ridiculous marble floors and egyptian cotton sheets, he was free to taste every poison the world offered him. and he did.
maddie really grew into himself in high school, shooting up above the other boys and really blooming into a wicked personality. he had a lot of friends, even if it was all superficial, but maddie craved a following, so he built one.
he credits his athleticism and thick skin for the letter he received from gallagher, and he didn’t so much as consult his parents before he packed his bags. the farther away he could get, the better. it’s no surprise maddie found his interests lie in brute force.
personality wise ... he’s a dick. he’s very much a backstabber who will grin to your face then fuck your girlfriend when you get around to trusting him. at the same time, though, he’s an addictive person with a smile that lights up a room, even if it’s all fake. he doesn’t deal too much in actual relationships—he doesn’t let anyone get that close.
i mean, maddie knows he’s an asshole. he’s not totally blind or unfeeling, but he also refuses to appear weak in front of anyone. maddie regards himself as the alpha male, and to prove him wrong you’ll just ... truly have to beat his ass. he’ll still probably bark about how he just didn’t get enough sleep the night before.
anyway i’m up for literally any plots, so feel free to hmu !! especially if u need a bad guy bc i am down to ruin any and all characters sdgdsgisu
here are a few ideas if ur like me and seriously struggle comin up with ideas:
