she looks like divine absolution. careful, meleager; this is your sport, but she's not playing a game luciana elizabeth zabini freelance potioneer. 26. widowed.
His empathy had been lost long ago, learning to shove any sort of emotion far enough down to be forgotten. He could be angry or indifferent, but any sign of weakness would be the end of him. The rhetorical question only left him to stare at the woman, why heâd even taken the time to call her out for ruining a perfectly good day was beyond him. Now he couldnât back out. âYou can ask anyone in here and they are all going through something. The difference is theyâre not crying about it.â Barty believed people put themselves in situations rather than them being forced upon themselves, including the one heâd thrown himself into. âHereâs the catch, I would never be in your shoes. And marriage doesnât suit me, which you seem to know. But not enough to realize I donât need to know what youâre going through by listening to you cry in a rather public place.â
Good god, she thought his father was insufferable. Luciana let her tears dry, her face harden, her anger not completely insincere. While part of her was definitely a bit ticked off by Bartyâs words, another part of her was enjoying this completely, especially as she wasnât upset in the slightest. âAre you trying to tell me that Iâm the first person youâve seen cry in public? Iâve seen plenty, these days.â She let out a dry laugh that lacked humour. âNo, no, you will absolutely never know what it is like to be in my shoes. You canât get pregnant, either --- try dealing with those hormones while grieving the father of your child.â She hoped her words would make him feel uncomfortable at the least --- that the other would feel guilty was something she found hard to imagine. âEmotions are hard to control, for those of us who are human.â
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               ( click on the images for explanations )
esme squalor ( a series of unfortunate events ), katherine pierce ( the vampire diaries ), cersei lannister ( a song of ice and fire & game of thrones ), six/lexi ( chicago ), amy elliot dunne ( gone girl ), michaela pratt ( how to get away with murder )Â
The Leaky Cauldron had become an afternoon pastime. A place he typically found a quiet corner and could draw or read. Today looked to be such a day. Every corner had been taken by someone who thought of doing the same thing, leaving him to sit in the middle until a patron left. His book lay open in front of him, tuning out the rest of the room to focus. Barty got a few pages in before he heard the crying, eyes rolling as they stared at the book. He sighed, shutting it quickly and standing up to approach the table with the crying woman. His features were devoid of emotions as he looked down at her, head shaking slightly. âNo, I donât know.â Heâd never show the same emotions, preferring to keep them locked tight inside. âNor do I think this is the right place to let all of you emotions out either.â
Elizabeth understood apathy. Hell, it pretty much flowed through her veins at this point --- sheâd learned to shed her emotions a long time ago, to control everything she felt and to grow solid and hard when it came to other peopleâs emotions. But to be so blunt about it? That wasnât something she could understand. After all, this was hardly the way a person ought to react to a crying, pregnant woman, if you asked her --- Barty Crouch Jr could at least pretend to care, just as she was pretending to care about her grief and pain. âThatâs horribly rude of you, you know that?â She left no room for him to reply. âHave some compassion, will you? I donât expect you to understand what I might be going through, but keep your unwanted criticism for yourself.â She stroked her stomach once more, trying to draw his attention to it, eyes fixed on him. âIâd like to see how you would cope, were you in my shoes. Of course, thatâd require you marrying, and from what Iâve seen and heard so far ... that seems unlikely.â
Narcissaâs face entered her sight and she calmed herself, slightly. She liked the other, as she did with all of the Black sisters. To make her unnecessarily uncomfortable wasnât something se was particularly interested in. STILL, she didnât immediately cease her crying, sniffling slightly. âItâs so embarrassing,â she said, before letting out a dry, humourless chuckle. She gestured at the people around them. âTo do this in front of all these people.â Shame wasnât an emotion that she was unfamiliar with --- it had nestled in her being a long time ago, back when her parents had lost their home for the first time. She didnât feel it in that moment, though. If crying in public would make her feel anything close to embarrassment, she wouldnât do it. Simple as that. âI already have tea, but I might take you up on that offer once Iâve finished. Talking would be wonderful, though. If you want something to drink ... my treat.â She had plenty of money now, after all.â
Aurelia entered the Leaky Cauldron in hopes of finally getting some food in her stomach. Her latest work spree left her feeling exhausted, her body demanding for some rest. Her parents had warned her that this would happen if she took the job; that she would start feeling faint more quickly. It was the reason why they didnât want her involved too much in Hogwarts. âWe are not like the othersâ they warned, not allowing for any false hopes. Regardless, she LIKED her job ⌠she liked exploring and perfecting her craft. Even if she had been slower than the rest, and required more breaks. Upon hearing a familiar voice, Aurelia approached her cousin, pleasantly surprised to find her here.Â
â â yâknow, a smile suits your face much better than despair.â Even if despair had been oddly attached to their families.Â
âCome now, what can I do to distract you?â Â
Oh, she felt almost BAD for Aurelia when her eyes fell on her. Sheâd been such a doll, through all her suffering, someone to lean on when her grief became too much to bear. It was all an act, of course, but Elizabeth didnât mind the fact that her cousin was so reliable, so kind. She might need it, sometime down the road, when life became harder. It wouldnât if she had any say in the matter, but then again --- who knew? Life was unpredictable these days. âAurelia,â she breathed, wiping at her tears. Relief spread over her face, partly genuine, and she gestured to the free chair across of her. âI know, I know. Trust me, I donât enjoy these tears.â She let her lips curl, her smile feigned ( but then most of her facial expressions were ). âCome sit with me, if you have time. Thatâs enough.â She sipped at her tea. âOrder whatever you want. How are you?â
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âseems like more of a mutually exclusive type of thing. good versus evil persay.â and maybe the line between good and evil was already blurred, but the very fact that the young man was being painted out to be some monster when the whole truth wasnât even out, the verdict rang a little bit too close to reasonable doubt for her taste. âno, definitely not surprised one bit. thereâs just too many impressionable people out there that will be swayed solely by opinion pieces.â
âI think they just want to please all their readers. Which is impossible, of course, in this climate. I think they ought to make up their mind on where they stand, though.â She didnât. She thought it was highly amusing to see the Prophet write about topics as polarising as this, and to see the public react to it, too. She didnât much care about anything, beside that. âOh, that is definitely true. If you ask me, though, the Prophet would be much better off if they drop the opinion pieces, for now. Those belong in magazines, in my opinion. Not newspapers.â
WHERE: The Leaky Cauldron
WHEN:Â June 13, 2:39PM
WHO: Open
Elizabeth Zabini was a pregnant and recent widow and life was supposed to be hard. It wasnât, of course, but appearances LIE, especially when it came to her --- she feigned mourning and grief as if it was her job ( which it was, in a way ), playing the role of the fragile woman people wished to see quite perfectly. Let them think she was weak. She would proof them all wrong one day. That day, though, she would cry over a cup of tea in a public place, fingers tracing her belly absentmindedly. It was all just too much. She felt victorious every time compassionate eyes fell on her, felt even better when someone approached her. She waved a hand, swallowed thickly, appeared to be embarrassed to be caught of this moment of emotion. âIâm -- Iâm sorry, I just ... sometimes it all just comes crashing down on you, you know?â
who: open
when: sunrise, june 11th, 1979
where: outside a muggle coffee shop
âa hero and a danger? does the prophet ever get anything right?â dorcas wasnât sold on the idea that the daily prophet was getting any details right, and in fact, was so abundantly displeased that she groaned away. âhow can somebody be a hero and a villain? theyâre clearly just crafting their own story to save their own tails at this point.â
âHmm,â said Elizabeth, having overheard the other speak. âI suppose both could be correct, couldnât they? Depending how you look at the situation.â If you asked her, Benjy Fenwick was nothing but a raging idiot, but he brought some amusement to her life. She wasnât complaining. âItâs been common knowledge, though, that the Prophetâs staff is rather ... thick. No use in being surprised over it.â
WHERE: Living room, Elizabethâs home
WHEN: 10 June, 9:45PM
WHO: @sheweapon
A laugh spilled past her lips, head shaking. There werenât many people who knew Elizabethâs truths, her depths, her secrets, but Bellatrix Lestrange knew a few more than most. âShe was tearing up, too,â she said. âIf only she knew! Poor woman.â Sharing gossip, mocking people more sensitive ( more human ) than them, it was something that Beth looked forward to much too often. âI almost wished to tell her and obliviate after, only to see the look on her face when she learned that I wasnât as poor a widow as I was making her think I was.â She filled up her tea cup again, laughter still leaving her mouth softly, her fingers stroking her stomach absentmindedly as she leaned back on the sofa. âPeopleâs stupidity continues to serve us well, it seems.â
WHEN: 8 June, 1:23PM
WHERE: Elizabethâs home
WHO: @andrmdatonks
Usually, she would be sipping a mimosa at a moment like this, but alas --- she was stuck drinking her orange juice without champagne. That was just one of the many downsides of being pregnant, Elizabeth had found, and she was growing rather tired of it. It was worth it all, of course, but that day, it was rather hard to accept that. âIâm so sick of having bloated ankles, Dro. I canât fit in so many of my nice shoes any more.â She wasnât too broken up about it in all honesty --- it was frustrating, sure, but she had dealt with bigger problems before. It was nice to complain, though. It relaxed her. âANYWAY, enough about that --- how is Tonks doing?âÂ
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you look just like your mother
i guess i do carry her tenderness well
you both have the same eyes
cause we are both exhausted
and the hands
we share the same wilting fingers
but that rage your mother doesnât wear that anger
youâre right
this rage is the one thing
i get from my father
Name: Luciana Elizabeth Zabini
Nicknames: Lucy, Luce
Age: Twenty six
Birthday: May 27, 1952
Place of Residence: Cardiff, Wales
Pronouns: She/Her
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual, demiromantic
Tattoos:Â None
Scars: One on her ankle from a rusty nail she once brushed past as a child
Piercings: Â Both ears are pierced.
Vices: Murder, egocentrism, greed
Sign: Gemini
MBTI: INTJ
Alignment: Neutral Evil
House: Slytherin
NEWTS: Potions, Charms, DADA, History
Languages Spoken: English, Welsh, Italian
Parents: Alfonso and Caroline Zabini
Siblings: None
Family Background: Sheâs born ready to be pampered and loved and spoiled, but her fatherâs business went bankrupt when she was four and then it all goes downhill. They swap their penthouse for a small flat, her father buries himself in alcohol and shame, her mother becomes frustrated. They lose homes a few times, struggle to make ends meet every month, live off scraps and broken dreams.
Wand: Hawthorn, dragon heartrstring, 9Âź inches.
Patronus: The fox
Boggart: A lot of cockroaches, a swarm of them, coming her way
Amortentia:Â Chanel No 5, the beach, lavender, champagne
Prefect/Head: Neither
Quidditch: No
Other Clubs: Slug club, potions club
allow me to introduce luciana zabini, former slytherin, class of â70. currently residing in cardiff, originally from swansea. a pureblood witch who supports the death eaters. works as a freelance potioneer when she feels like it. a recent widow and expecting a son.
aesthetic:Â silk underwear, strawberries floating in champagne, high heels, tapping your nails on the table out of impatience, red lipstick marks, faux fur coats, five year plans, relying on no one but yourself, shining teeth, whispered sweet nothings, cello music, diamond earrings, the crashing of waves.
luciana is born ready for a life of nannies, of pampering and being spoiled and getting everything she wants. for the first few years of her life, thatâs exactly how it goes, too. her fatherâs a successful businessman, having connections all over the world, his business bringing in the money the zabiniâs depend on, breathe on, sleep on. her first four years are spent on silk sheets and expensive clothes, in a massive penthouse apartment overseeing swansea.
it all falls to pieces when her fatherâs debts catch up on him and he goes bankrupt. thereâs no money left. itâs a surprise to her mother, who thought business was booming and that there was nothing to worry about, but they have to move out either way, swap their massive place for a tiny flat that just fits three people. luciana is four years old and doesnât understand what is going on.
[ SPOUSAL ABUSE, ALCOHOLISM, CHILDABUSE TWÂ her father starts drinking. a lot. he goes job hunting every day, at least, thatâs what he says, and comes home smelling of booze and stumbling every evening. at one point, he starts drinking at home, too, having lost any sense of pride. the zabinis have been knocked from their pedestal, so thereâs no room to pretend at home. when he starts drinking at home, the fights between him and lucianaâs mother increase. her mother screams and her father sits still until heâs done listening and ends the fight with a smack against a cheek or something more. his anger turns to her at times, too, but not as much as it does to her mother, but it does, and thatâs enough for her hate to start growing. END OF TW ]
they are kicked out of their house for the first time when sheâs ten. they couldnât make rent for the second month in a row and their landlord is done. her parents play the blaming game and luciana cries in the dry sheets at the motel they stay in now. they itch and are cold and she just wants a place to call home.
hogwarts is an escape, a place for luciana to leave behind the endless fights and the new shitty flat and to focus on something else than keeping quiet and not becoming too bored. sheâs sorted in slytherin, like her mum was ( her dad went to school in italy, never even saw inside hogwarts, and perhaps that made the place even better ) and flourishes. socially, academically: suddenly luciana grows into something more than what she was before, learns how to use her disadvantages as advantages.
she mixes with the pureblood crowd like she should have done years ago, tells lies as to why she wasnât at many events ( things like my dad travels a lot so we were never in the uk much, to be honest ) and reconciles with people she went on playdates with before everything turned to shit. she gets into the slug club, grows ambitious when she finds out she has skills, proper skills, in potions.
her ambition becomes a drive, becomes a plan: she signs up for summer internships, for ways out of the live she has been living so far. she talks to slughorn ( who likes her, even if her dadâs a failure ) and searches for opportunities, chances, anything to become successful, to do what a zabini is supposed to do.
once graduated, she starts working to earn the title of potioneer, staying in contact with slughorn and meeting members of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers, making connections and impressions. sheâs twenty two when she gains the title. sheâs young, but not the youngest, and sheâs reveling in it. she starts making potions for st mungoâs and the aurors, works freelance, and so for no one but those she wants to work with. she makes her own money, and feels on top of the world.
she marries young, too, only a few years after graduation at age 23. heâs older than she is, but a few years, merely. a family friend from her mothersâ side, who has a respectable surname, whoâs respectable and rich and kind, someone whoâs a better husband than her father ever was. she doesnât love him, though, loves his money, and she married him for that only. his money allows her to move out of her parents place, allows her to start living the life she was supposed to be living all these years. she doesnât love him, but she loves all he gives her, and it gives a sense of power, because he does seem to love her, and so she holds all the cards.
[ MURDER / DEATH TW itâs after two of being married, that dies. a potion â a poison â stops his heart, making it seem like a natural death, but heâs too young to die this soon, but no one stops to question it. sheâs pregnant, and she does not want him as a father. easy as that. she doesnât want her child to have a father, doesnât want him to be the father â she doesnât love him, and she wonât let her son grow up with parents who donât love each other, like she had. she wonât allow that. she holds the cards, and she decides to stop the game and win. END OF TW ]
he died on april 14th, this year, so itâs still pretty fucking recent!Â
thereâs something twisted in luciana: itâs always been there, but the moment she starts toying with the idea of poisoning her husband, it grows. she makes the poison herself and feels the most alive than she ever has, and while she tells herself that sheâs doing it for her son, she knows, somewhere, itâs also because she wants power. him dying would leave her a fortune, and she needs it.Â
so here we are --- luciana zabini is a fresh widow, five months pregnant and pretending to be very broken up about it. is she, though? no. sheâs feeling on top of the world, really; the war doesnât necessarily impact her, sheâs severed ties with her parents, sheâs expecting a child that she knows she will love, sheâs fucking rich, growing more and more powerful with every day that passes.
as for her involvement with the death eaters --- i imagine she has some ties, and i mostly see her making potions for them. i know they have snape but heâs stupid and useless and luciana is much COOLER so they now have her to ask for potions too!! she mostly does it so she has some ~connections. i mean, she doesnt really care about blood purity. she cares about power and money and herself. what other people do doesnt matter to her, as long as it doesnt affect her.Â
personality, insight & tidbits.
okay, so personality-wise i havent said a lot about luce yet so let me go OFF.
socially, luce is quite charming. she can be a bit detached, but she can also be present af --- it depends on what she wants, on what kind of mood sheâs in, on who sheâs talking to. she likes having fun, though, but not with everyone, lmao. sheâs picky, friends-wise, but sheâs a good one to have, i think ( unless you expect unwavering loyalty and shit ). likes pureblood-y event stuff a lot lmao. likes good conversations, likes gossiping and talking shit. can be an asshole, tbh.
one trait thatâs very defining is her self-preserving nature. luciana doesnât care about anyone but herself (Â and blaise )Â when it comes down to it. i mean, she can care for people and value them and love them, but she will never consider sacrificing herself for someone thats not her or her son? sheâs just very individualistic??? lmao??Â
[ ABUSE & ALCOHOLISM TW i mean, it comes from her childhood and the way she grew up. she grew up having a lot for the first few years of her life and then having absolutely fucking nothing. there was abuse in her home -- if she had one -- and alcoholism and fights and a lack of love. she learned to fend for herself at a young age, grew detached from her parents at a young age, and never really saw reason to change that. and now she has the life she was destined for, and itâ;s because of her own hard work and sheâs so fucking proud and not ready to get rid of that for someone else END OF TW ]
materialistic af, but really clever with money, still. i mean, the poor girl never left her, even if she wants to bury her deep, deep down.Â
luce is very clever and cunning and cutthroat, which ... should be obvious.
OH BY THE WAY, she changed back to her maiden name once her husband died because she wanted her child to have the same name as her and also, she feels more for her own name than her husbandâs.
loves classical music and jazz. has been taking cello lessons ever since she married and had the Money for it LMDFKJS and she loves it.
then perish meme personified
lives near cardiff in a wonderful country home that we love and stan
I DONT KNOW WHAT ELSE TO SAY BESIDES THAT SHE IS AN ICON! bYE
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ELIZABETH ZABINI â NEUTRAL â TAKEN
âł FC: Aja Naomi King
â She told me that love is a loaded gun that sheâs been trying to dodge for many years now. â
BASICS :
[ NAME ] : Elizabeth Luciana Zabini
[ AGE ] : 26
[ HOUSE ] : Slytherin
[ BLOODSTATUS ] :Â Pureblood
[ OCCUPATION ] : Freelance Potioneer
BIO :
Born from the rubble and risen from the ashes: this is Elizabeth Zabiniâs success story, and itâs not pretty, but at least she is. Sheâs a recent widow, an expecting mother, a well known beauty, a rising star. She smiles like no other while tending to her wrath as if itâs her child, loving it carefully while watching it grow bigger and bigger. Sheâs an enigma, keeping secrets tucked under her charming gaze, not speaking of her past,ever. The Elizabeth Zabini who grew up in tiny apartments and in hostel rooms is as dead as her husband â she has found a new life for herself, one of luxury and riches. Itâs the life she deserves, the life she should have had her entire life, and she wonât stop at anything to get it. Watch her as she climbs up every ladder she comes across, perfectly polished claws leaving marks in the men she pretends to love, her entire being oozing perfection. Just know this: you wonât ever know her, not really.
The mother of Blaise Zabini (born between 1979 - 1980), Madame Zabini was known for her beauty and suspected to be a black widow. She was seven times a widow by 1996 - each husband dying of mysterious circumstances.
