The mundane tasks were perhaps the best part of her day. The cleaning, the feeding, the all too often corralling of countless magical creatures. Olga had just finished clearing one of her pens, for a good cleaning was in order, when her ever-present companion began to nudge his snout against her thigh. A clear sign he wanted something. “Max, if it was a treat you desire, you should have helped a bit more with the knarls instead of digging that curious nose in my garden.” She grinned, freeing a hand from its glove to give him some scratches above his nose. He seemed satisfied enough with that answer, and ran off straight to a figure who just happened to be walking by, she assumed. They were also, coincidentally, not far from her tools. “Hey there! Sorry about my dog. He loves people. Do you have a moment? And if you have a moment, could you hand me that bucket?”
finnick had kept his distance, he’d seen olga around and he’d walk the other way. fortunately for him, he hadn’t run into her while teaching or more importantly, when their pup was around. the meetings they had attended together, dogs weren’t invited. he’d just finished up his last class and he was heading inside to explore the castle but his leg was being very slow and stubborn. it hurt more than usual, slowing his brisk walk down to a snail speed walk. he hated it, he felt more angry with every painful step he took, wanting to scream and cry and chop of his bum of a leg. he was lost in his thoughts, not hearing the sound of paws against the grass as max, the large fluffy dog, tackled him to the ground and began to lick his face. at first he was shocked but relief set in once he realised who the other was, and he allowed himself the warmth of his dog. ‘max! baby, i missed you too! but.. oh, fuck.’ he cursed under his breath, sitting up as he realised who walked towards them. his throat closed up and he felt anxiety crawling closer but he shook his head to somehow keep it at bay. he needed to be strong for this, ‘i’m not giving you a bucket, olga. i know you’ll dump it on my head.’ he said in as even of a tone as he could manage, forcing himself to sit up and not cry out in pain. ‘it’s max the ax thrower.’ he wanted to apologise for things but he bit his tongue, maybe the best way out of this was ignorance. after all, he was the villain in his own love story.
(SAM CLAFLIN; CISMALE; BISEXUAL} Look who it is, FINNICK GUSTAFSON! The ONLY CHILD of LORRE GUSTAFSON and UNKNOWN. He is a GRYFFINDOR, who teaches FLYING, and aligns with NEUTRAL. Some describe him as DEVOTED, but he has also been called SELFISH.
THIS IS SO LONG IM SO SORRY
yeah, he’s sorry he was born too ~
basic information.
FULL NAME: finnick gustafson
NICKNAME(S) OR ALIAS: finnick, finn
GENDER: male
SPECIES: pureblood wizard
AGE: 28
BIRTHDAY: october 23rd
ZODIAC SIGN: scorpio
HOUSE: gryffindor
PATRONUS: non corporeal
ARMY AFFILIATION: neutral
SEXUALITY: bisexual
NATIONALITY: swedish
CITY OR TOWN OF BIRTH: lund, sweden
CURRENTLY LIVES: lund, sweden (when not at hogwarts)
LANGUAGES SPOKEN: swedish & english
NATIVE LANGUAGE: swedish
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: single and complicated
physical appearance.
HEIGHT: 6′1
HAIR COLOUR: dark blonde? kinda brown?
HAIRSTYLE: wavy, just past his ears
EYE COLOUR: green
TATTOOS: the number 23 (his quidditch number) on his left bicep
PIERCINGS: had a nose ring when he was 14 but it got infected and he no longer has one
PREFERRED STYLE OF CLOTHING: sporty casual, bit eccentric
FREQUENTLY WORN JEWELRY/ACCESSORIES: long necklaces, funny socks, converse
health.
SMOKER?: sometimes
DRINKER?: yes
RECREATIONAL DRUG USER? WHICH?: no
SOCIABILITY: introvert
house & home.
DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER’S HOUSE/HOME
after hogwarts he never bought a place as he started with the nordic national quidditch team and just lived here and there. at age 23 he moved to london temporarily and started dating olga weasley, couple months later they continued to date and moved in together. at age 27, they broke and london no longer felt like home. his mother had since passed, but he moved back to lund and only stayed a few months before selling it and coming to work at hogwarts. so currently he’s homeless again.
family, friends, & foes.
PARENTS NAMES: lorre gustafson got pregnant at an untimely time, which shortened her quidditch career. her baby daddy also left because he was a horrid person, so she raised finnick on her own. once finnick was born, he became her love and quidditch didn’t hold a flame. they were really close, finnick never once sought to look for his dad.
SIBLINGS? RELATIONSHIP WITH SIBLINGS?: n/a
OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: lorre (mother) was a quidditch champion, idk where else to put it deal with it
PARTNER/SPOUSE: n/a
EXES: olga weasley -- partner of 5 years, dated for 3 years and engaged for 2. more on this later.
CHILDREN: no :/
BEST FRIEND: it was olga tbh now it’s no one
OTHER IMPORTANT FRIENDS: tba. open connection
PETS: shared custody of max the ax thrower, but like he’s mostly olga’s.
ABOUT FINNICK
finnick gustafson was born to a single mother and ex quidditch player. lorre was kind and loving towards finnick, never leaving him wanting for anything. it wasn’t until finn was older than he realised just how much his mother had sacrificed for him. she was only 26, had a wonderful career and could’ve been the best player in the country. she could’ve given him away for adoption or sent him in a day care, but she gave everything up to give finnick a better life. he cried the day he left for hogwarts, but she was so immensely proud of him. unfortunately for finnick, lorre had been hiding her disease from him for a very long time. by the time he reached his fifth year, the effects had taken their toll and he was taking care of her more than she was of him. he was glad to take care of her. she passed away half way through his seventh year and he got through the rest of year with the support of good friends and supportive teachers.
after hogwarts finnick had to become his own person and for the first time in his life, he had nowhere to turn to. he was good at quidditch at hogwarts so he tried out for his mother’s old team. the first year he was on the reserve team and slowly he made his way to the top, becoming a chaser like his mother and team captain eventually. being on the team meant his crazy routines kept him busy and didn’t give him enough time to properly mourn being alone. he didn’t have a real place to call home and that was just time.
then at 22, he met the love of his life and he didn’t even realise for a very long time. finnick and olga met at a quidditch after party where they hit it off and decided to stay in contact. their first date didn’t happen for another year by which point they were both staying in london. with olga finnick had finally found love again. he had someone to look after and someone to come home to, for the first time since the passing of his mother. they were happy, they were so unbelievably happy and nothing could get in their way. his career was thriving, he’d proposed to olga and her little family was his own too.
then the unthinkable happened, once while performing the bjorn blizzard, their team’s special move which was perfected by his mother, he slid off his broom and tumbled down. the healers said his right leg would never be the same again. they weren’t able to find out what caused the fall, whether it was simply finnick accidentally letting go or a deeper cause. the diagnosis didn’t matter to finnick, what mattered were the painstaking four months spent in therapy afterwards only to find out he’d never walk straight. his pain was chronic and without a cure, he needed the aid of a cane and... he wasn’t able to fly like he once was. flying was still easier than walking but he would never fly quite as swift, definitely not enough to make the team again. his career was over, and next was his perfectly happy life.
the change was incredibly tough on him. he hated not being able to give olga the life he wanted for them, in these dire times, he couldn’t even find happiness in her. depression crept in and it lingered. it destroyed their perfect lives, finnick had begun to hate himself. in their last few months together, they fought a lot.. things became brutal and finnick couldn’t hang on any longer. he wouldn’t stay with her because he needed help. he loved her dearly, but she deserved a better life... so he left.
he moved back to lund and he tried to live a new life. he needed to find a job where he could share his quidditch and flying knowledge, where he wouldn’t have to stand or sit too long... thankfully there was an opening to teach at hogwarts, and though he knew olga had been working there for a year prior, he took it. it was his home once, and he needed it right now. even if it would hurt olga, he just needed to be near her, and hogwarts.
BLURBS
haha oh boy i wrote a lot so sorry but finnick hit me like a train and i just had to get my thoughts out
tldr; disabled boy who destroyed everything is now ur angsty flying teacher
he is neutral to the cause but honestly,,,,, he could be swayed either way. hmu esp salazar’s army, the boy is pureblood and he’s in the dumps, he could absolutely be useful
my favourite HC is he hates having a cane,,, so he made it into a fucking staff. LIKE a gandalf style staff that is big and thick and yeah he walks with that and wears big robes, what a gandalf wannabe
literally such a fast flier just not good enough to be pro y’know
is sooosoosososos helpful :( will always lend his ear to talk and will help out outside of class hours, literally whatever u need . also hmu this is a fun plot
i mean ideally i’d like him to be a lil slutty but like we’ll see idk HMU IF U WANT THIS PLOT
literally fam whatever u want plz just love me love him
weasleys ALSO hmu bc he hurt a fellow weasley y’know
misha’s eyes rolled and a low growl escaped from him after realizing someone actually stayed in the record store. he was about to yell at them too, but stopped when he finally looked up and saw his pal sev. “oh for fucks sake,” he murmured. “i’m glad its you and not any more damn teenagers.” misha walked around sev quickly to lock the door. he took note of his friend seeing they were alone. “stressed?” misha chuckled slightly, “stress is the half of it.” he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “i got paperwork to do for a store that shouldn’t be busy. i got weirdos walking in and out of this store, i got … never mind.” misha huffed out air through his nose. “no no i wasn’t. i was stuck here. i didn’t have time to go. but i heard what happened. were any of ours hurt or killed?”
‘oh simmer, misha.’ sev commented with a playful grin, walking around the store once again just to explore. if he was any kinder he’d offered to help, but hell he was already bored. ‘pour us a drink then, lad. or two, or four. no one’s coming in and out of here now, are they?’ once his heart was settled with how much he looked at he leaned against the register, casting his eyes up to his friend. ‘bummer. uh, not that i’ve heard so. there was a lot of gunfire. shit like that. not sure where the diamond ended up, but i know it was spotted. i’d wondered if you’d heard anymore, actually.’
“His name is Steve…” By the look of the receptionist’s face, he knew he must be off. “Sven…” No, something else with an S. “Russian accent–look, I know which room it is. This would be easier if you’d let me go up. I just need my phone.” This was worse than what Antoni had been trying to avoid. He’d left quietly, had even felt secure in the fact that he had his wallet and keys in his pockets, so how the fuck did he manage to forget his phone of all things? “–Sev!” Instead of letting him run up for his belonging, the front desk employee began to dial a number. A small groan sounded at the back of his throat and he almost hoped Sev wasn’t there, that in some perfect world they would allow him to check the room on his own. Wishful thinking.
sevastyan had decided months ago it was a good investment to have a permanent hotel room for a plethora of reasons. the most recent visitor in his room was a man named antoni with soft brunette hair and... that’s all he could remember. sev still wasn’t out of bed when the phone rang and he reached across to grab it, only now looking beside him and seeing the empty space where the man once was. he made a soft sound as he spoke to the receptionist and spotted the phone on the table. ‘sure, send him up.’ he told her, pressing the button on antoni’s phone to snoop, which only went as far as looking at the screensaver of his dog-- he assumed. they really hadn’t spoken much, sev couldn’t even remember his surname, didn’t even know if he’d learned it. he only moved out of bed when he heard footsteps approaching and took the sheet they’d slept in around his waist as he opened the door for him. ‘missed me already?’
[ sevastyan ] oh i get the honour? how kind, catarina
[ sevastyan ] is it because noah won’t answer his phone?
[ sevastyan ] you made it out alive, obviously but in one piece, too?
@fcksevastyan / wow, they were BRO-MATES [ brother roommates ]
Maks didn’t attend the party mostly because he was on a deadline with his editor. Send in the next few chapters of his latest by the end of the week, they said, or else. Or else what, he wanted to ask, it wasn’t like he needed the money. His dear old brother had that taken care of, didn’t he? Besides, he hadn’t really been in the mood to sit around dealing with rich American’s for the night, or deal with Sev once again shying him away from his mob life. Probably a good thing he didn’t go, because just after he sent the pages off to his editor, there was breaking news that the Gala had erupted into chaos.
He supposed he should check on his brother, then. To make sure he didn’t die - for the third time. Maks vaguely wondered if Sev was like a cat with nine lives. Still, he cared enough to check. He planted himself on the couch with a book, mindlessly reading some NYtimes best fluff book, until he came home.
“I heard you had an eventful night, Sevastyan,” Maks said, when he heard the door open, eyes not straying from his book. “Shoot anyone interesting? Or did you spend most of the night petting the goats in the garden.”
sevastyan didn’t question maks choice to stay behind, for starters he’d known there’s be a shoot out. he’d planned for a shoot out as it was how one planned any gala in new york city. poor birthday girl might’ve been left scarred but the bratva needed those diamonds. he hadn’t heard back, which was natural but he’d hoped they’d be in their hands now. with his family though, he didn’t like their involvement. it wasn’t a place for his beloved siblings, he couldn’t bear the idea of losing them too.
maks was working anyhow, so sev had gone alone and kept a close eye on zoya who knew better than to stay when guns were involved. they all had guns though, protection was key.
sev walked into his flat in the same suit from last night, crusted with blood (his own and others) at certain places, his hair was in a disarray but it was easy to say he had fun. ‘shoot-- uh, no. mexican princess. i’ll be dealing with the aftermaths of that later. another dumb ass broke a bottle at me? such a spaz. some actress-singer or other? you’ll want to be on the edge of your seat for this next one though, maks. fucked rowan. she thought i was a fucking ghost. god! she’s always been so stupid. she wanted to fuck amidst a battlefield. i was not willing to die for her.’
‘you ruined my suit, y’know?’ sev had always had a good memory but anyone who stood up to him really stuck out. so he’d approached her and looked at her with a tilted almost smile. ‘let me take you out for a drink. to make up for how things went down that night.’
‘Ding, ding, ding’ over and over again, all day long, and even when he went home for the evening. It drove him nuts. Sometimes Misha wanted to take his bell and threw it across the room until it breaks. But wanting to make sure he knew when someone came into his store Misha kept the bell around. “Just fucking either stay or leave, god damn it!” He yelled at a random customer who kept on coming in and out of his store. “You can’t have both, man!” Maybe he shouldn’t have chosen a damn record store as a cover shop. He should’ve went with an actual office.
apparently sevastyan made good time as he stepped into his fellow russian member screaming his head off at another customer. hell, he even held the door open as they customer ran away from good. sev cast a glance towards misha before trailing his fingers over records as he approached him, securing the premise first. ‘romanov, you seem stressed,’ his voice remained low, as his eyes looked in every corner before deeming it safe enough to talk rather... freely. ‘were you at the party, then? i haven’t heard back on a final body count yet.’’
why now of all times sevastyan had decided to reach out to the other, he didn’t know. maybe it was seeing rowan at the party and feeling empty because he missed his best mate. could that really be it? his ex fiancée triggered him missing his best friend, not her. truthfully, he didn’t need a very good lawyer for this. he could’ve found one within the bratva’s or even represented himself. instead he was seeking out his oldest friend, unannounced after having died. he stood outside charles’ firm, looking up at it with a proud smile. he was so proud of his friend for getting so far, this beautiful firm! of course he’d kept tabs on him all this time, with the occasional presents and even just.. phone calls to hear him voice but he hadn’t seen him in nine years.
nine years away from the man who was pretty much his favourite memory in america. charles and him roomed together despite being loaded with wealth and not needing to do so. but the memories they shared over cheap beer and 89c noodles couldn’t be erased. he never forgot, and he never intended to. this man was his other half, he was meant to be his best man even if sev would’ve rather married him and he was fucking giddy to see charles rothschild again. he walked up to the desk, leaning across it and obnoxiously getting the person’s attention. ‘charles rothschild. i want him, page him-- no i don’t care if he’s busy. he’ll want to see me. just... oh give me the bloody phone--!’ he sntached the intercom and cleared his throat, ‘charles rothschild!!! meet me out back. and yes it is who you think it is.’ and with that and a silly grin on his face, sevastyan was running out back trying to keep himself from bouncing as he stood waiting.
‘za,’ sevastyan called out to his sister to catch up with her before she slipped out the door. he trusted her and their brothers, but the need to protect her and keep her safe would never fade. ‘you’ve have your gun? extra bullets? knife?’ he asked, eyes looking at her with worry and concern, but most of all.. love. he loved his family, he would obviously do anything for them, he’d work infinitely harder to provide for them. nothing, no one would ever be worth more to sevastyan than his family. he spoke to her in russian, sometimes changing into english but even then his accent was thick and practically russian. ‘zoya, are you prepared for anything that comes your way?’ he asked in a lower tone, the poor girl was going to class and that wouldn’t stop sevastyan from worrying. ‘fuck it, i’ll walk you. or drive? how do you get to school? not the disgusting subways, right? they don’t even have air conditioning like they do back home.’
here she was at the remnants of a party. scratch that, a party that was in shambles. she was certain some people wouldn’t make it out of here but not her. she had to make it. after all, she’d finally achieved her goddamn dream. the sound of gunshots and sight of blood had caused her to sober up quickly and she found herself hopping from table to table in order to keep covered. soon enough she found herself under the bar and a hand reaching towards her. she swatted it away before realizing she probably should’ve just handed it a bottle. “Fuck.”
a chaotic party that surely shouldn’t have happened in the first place and yet here they were. gunshots flying and blood pouring as sevastyan stood just trying to get some fucking booze in his system when his hand was swatted away. he scoffed reaching over the bar with a gun in his hand pointed down at the person who tried to hit him. his other hand reached for the bottle again as he downed the contents before slamming it down and shattering it. ‘care to try that again?’
It was literally a steak knife. She had a steak knife for protection against the chaos going around. She had lost Mia and she still hadn’t found Aaron or Javier or Lorelai… All she wanted was her friends and family to be alright. A bullet had whizzed by her so quickly and so close that she had screamed and ran and suddenly she didn’t know where anyone was. People were getting shot and other people were rioting to be let out. No one was supposed to be in or out of the hotel, and security was overwhelmed with the amount of upset and hysterical people trying to hide. She didn’t know why everyone had to shoot each other - it was so unsavory.
Mariana remembered from one of the classes she barely paid attention in that the professor had said, and it stuck out to her because it was so surprising, that some people used chaos to commit more crime. To steal… To raid… And Mariana may have been a bit naive, but she wasn’t stupid. She had diamonds, real diamonds encrusted in her shoes, in her ears, and around her neck, and she was a perfect target. Poor, unsuspecting rich girl, blah blah blah. So, la princesa had reasoned with herself, that it would probably be best if she grabbed a knife. For protection. Until she found her brothers or Mia again, at least.
There was a break in the chaos in the spot she had settled in. It was a nice spot no one had found yet, a little nook behind a large decorative plant. Mariana pressed herself against the wall, feeling a little ridiculous with a the steak knife in her hand. She looked down at it, examining the blade… It wasn’t even that sharp! Damn. Mariana heard a noise and she squeaked, looking up, but didn’t immediately see anyone from her little nook. “Who’s there! I’m armed. Vete! Vete! Go away!”
after having snuck down to the chaotic party, he was bloodthirsty and craving something. someone to scare, that’s what he really wanted. he wanted to scare the crap out of someone, make them fall to their knees and cower. sevastyan was hungry and he wanted a snack, he wanted to hurt someone just for the hell of it. after all it was a blessed day, he’d seen his darling fiancée who believed she was dead. and! he had all these guns and fucking nothing to do with them. he stalked the room, sometimes appearing distraught and sometimes vacant of any emotion on his cold face. he stopped by a couple people, searching for his perfect target but anyone in a group wasn’t it.
then he saw her, rather he saw the glimmer of jewels. diamonds, but not the ones everyone else wanted. not even the ones that he wanted but the way this girl hid behind the plant was enticing. oh, she was basically screaming at him to come help. or spook her. he inched forwards, purposefully making a noise as she raised a dull steak knife, yeah right. was she this stupid? as if that would stop sevastyan from anything. ‘what’s this? oh back off everyone, she’s ARMED!’ sev let out a loud, booming and obnoxious laugh, keeping his weapons hidden as he inched closer, until the tip of her knife. ‘go on, then. stab me. carve me. what the fuck do you think you can get away with a steak knife, darling? poor, spoiled and innocent princess-- not poor, rich! she’s rich! diamonds on her feet, across her neck, licked by wealth. go on, then. what’ll you do? scream for help?’
“keep putting pressure on it, you’re fine. it’s just a flesh wound!” probably. rowan was exhausted, the nights events catching up with her as well as the amount of wine she had consumed, and honestly, she didn’t want to deal with the rich socialite that was freaking out about being clipped on his way out of the main hall. his date was equally hysterical.
“he’s been shot! what if the bullet is still in there!”
“it isn’t. he was grazed. it’s a -”
“i don’t want you to die!” she was wailing, clearly considerably inebriated. her date, the one that was actually injured, wasn’t much better, holding pressure around his arm like rowan had told them too. she really wished she hadn’t just come across them. she had a duty to help, of course. “i -”
“enough!” rowan finally yelled, snapping.. “both of you SIT DOWN! now!” it was the tone of voice she used with the interns. both of them shot to the floor like they were currently being gunned down. “you! pinky, put your head between your knees. you, gunshot-wound, continue to keep the pressure on your arm with your hand security is making their way over here, it’s a superficial wound. you’re going to be fine. you should be safe here.” she wasn’t sure if she was calling people by their descriptions because she had too much wine or because she was annoyed.
both. probably both.
rowan stalked away from them after making sure the couple was content with doing what she said. she needed to find nova or someone else from the NYPD and she needed to now. the chaos was just getting worse, people were using it as an excuse for it to be the fucking purge. it was going to be hard to determine what was actually mafia activity and what was people being assholes. rowan took a moment to rest against the wall, leaning her head back. fuck. she pushed herself off the wall, and continued down the hall before rounding a corner.
she ran straight into a man. rowan’s short fuse burst. “can you get the fuck out of my way before i shove my foot so far up your - sebastian?” rowan backed up, looking up, instantly recognizing the face on the man. it would be pretty bad if she didn’t. he looked older, but he was still the same man. her dead fiancee. a dead man walking, so to speak. she gaped at him.
logically, there was only one one explanation for this, because she remembered identifying was left of the body.
“oh my god.” rowan recoiled in shock and disgust. “i got shot! I’m dead. that’s so - oh my god, they’re going to let jim mccauly do my autopsy!” she had definitely had a little too much wine. she looked back up at him, making a face at him.
sevastyan was short tempered and crazed this evening. things were hectic, he was shining and the bratva were going good. sure, shit was going down and he couldn’t find half of them, he assumed it would be going well. he’d seen dimitri around and ceiline was surely getting up to all types of trouble. he wasn’t worried, they had the strongest mafia. sev hated events such as these, big events where everyone came out and it was impossible to avoid anyone. he had people to avoid, one tiny person by the name of rowan jaxson. his fiancée. ex-fiancée. but he never stopped considering her a part of himself. even if rowan didn’t have a place in his life and he’d never let her into it again. he’d seen her running around, helping people and just watched for a few moments. she yelled at the couple to stay quiet, she had such stature, she dominated this room. she was short tempered too, he could see the anger in her eyes, he loved the anger in her eyes.
it wasn’t her fault she bumped into him, he’d gone to stand right in her way, big blue eyes looking down at her as his mind blocked out all the memories that didn’t matter-- so most. sebastian! fuck, he hadn’t hear that name in so long. sweet russian-american immigrant sebastian vasiliev. what a pile of shit, he’d have an american wife, they’d have american children and a fucking white picket fence life. that man faded away when he killed him, that man ceased to exist and sevastyan vasyutin came back in full force. sebastian might’ve been kind and caring, and sevastyan was anything but. right now, standing in front of rowan as she freaked out in the most adorable way possible.. he felt like both men. she’d hate this man, she’d hate everything about him but she wasn’t sane enough right now.
thought she was dead, well that’s enough for now.
sevastyan draped his arms around rowan’s waist to pull her in closer, his lips floating over hers. his lips opened to speak but english was hard to come to his tongue now, with all the russian he’d been speaking as of late. ‘oh malishka. my sweet baby. kiss me.’ he demanded in a soft, dominating tone back to his natural russian accent he’d hid from her for so long. teeth baring against her bottom lip to nip at it as he pulled her in to press a deep, hard kiss to her lips, pulling her body to press right against his without a care for the bullets that flew around or the people who ran in a frenzy.
