#isolde x leelathae
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omg... who put Isolee in the ball pit...
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did some art of rockstar Isolee and her normie (girl)friend that is 110% inspired & based off of this AWESOME fic by @cursed-princess-club :DD
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isolde x Leelathae moodboard :D
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ha ha teenage Isolde x Leelathae playlist (except it's only got seven or so songs so far but!!! it's a start :D)
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started an Isolee playlist :DD only got one song on it but !!! excited to add some more
#cursed princess club#isolde x Leelathae#taking suggestions!#its their teenange selves inspo bc... adult thems would have so much angst songs
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au that doesn't make any sense just before I go to bed:
Leelathae, who was raised by monsters. She was washed up a corpse onto the shore after a terrible storm that destroyed her island and, somehow, she attracted the attention of the monsters, who bent The Rules a little bit and transformed her into one of them. She grows up, is taught the ways of the boogiemen and is sent to haunt the nights for children.
Enter, Isolde Durand, a singer mother who's raising a three-year-old Lance on her own and is just trying to find herself again after a messy divorce. Lives in a crappy apartment, has a crappy job, but she's got her son with her and to her - that's enough.
Only... One day, Lance is giggling when he should be sleeping. She comes into his room, expecting him to be entertaining himself with one of his toys, but he's not alone.
There's a boogiewoman in her son's bedroom. And she's kinda cute.
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Isolde really shouldn't be as she is right now.
The two queens sat together so close yet so far because Isolde knew, as she knew a lot of things, that it'd never happen. It was a dangerous thing. A foul thing that soaked into the heart she'd believed had grown apathetic to all feelings,
but it hadn't. It hadn't at all. It beat as loud as the banged drums that welcomed the king— her husband— back into the kingdom after being away, and it hurt as much as it did when his gaze fell and her and he, he, he—
He was stone as cold as cemetery blocks, he was a sting of pain that made her squeeze her eyes shut, he was the man she married that she never could let go, not from choice nor from lingering infatuation, but from responsibility.
When she looked into his eyes now, she saw Blaine's red eyes crystal clear. Red like blood, like rage, the color of emotion, of beating hearts— the color of lungs, whose main function was to protect the body from the outside.
Red, red, red. It stared at her, piercing, during the rare night she could sneak into the five year old bedroom and tell him stories.
The other woman— The queen of the Pastel kingdom— leans against her slightly. It's a casual touch, void of any meaning or intent, but it draws Isolde's attention instantly back to her surroundings, back to how alone they both were.
The scent of fresh flowers, native to the Pastel kingdom, made Isolde breathe in deeply, taking in her and everything she is.
Lilyth didn't remind her of the sweetness of sugar that Isolde was accustomed to. She was natural, like roots growing out the earth, like the air after a heavy, sorrowful rain, like weeds in the grass and fallen, rotting trees becoming one with where it came once upon a time.
She was temperamental skies calming down into a lovely light blue, tired after storming for so long, growing lonely as people caged themselves indoors, scared of things they'd never seen before. She was the peace that came after war, nervous gatherings and hesitant apologies. Earnest love. Truth.
Lilyth waited for her husband and every once in a while, her lips would slowly turn up and she'd crack a smile, deep in thought, unaware of how strangely beautiful Isolde considered her, of how much she was going over every little thing in her head.
The flower the Lily is has something to do with purity, devotion— rebirth, motherhood— all the classes Isolde had to take to become a proper lady came flashing in her memory, all ties suddenly connecting to the angel sitting next to her.
Just being near Lilyth makes her heart act up. She doesn't get why she's so attracted to her— maybe it's her warm smile, maybe it's the delicate love she shows to the people around her, maybe it's the hinted loathing Isolde just gets, maybe the unconventional beauty she's got going for her that Isolde's never seen before.
There's too many 'maybes' to name and each one makes the same amount of sense as the other.
She doesn't know Lilyth, but she's seen her, she's watched her (within reason, Isolde's not a total creep), she's witnessed her happiness with Jack and felt a horrible yearning rise in her chest.
Isolde swore to herself that she wouldn't fall in love a second time— or, perhaps, fall in love like she did a many time before. She'd done so with Leland, yes, but he wasn't the only one, nor was romantic love the only kind of love.
Her family, her children, her past, her music— too many times she fell in deep love. Too many times that love wrapped its pretty glittery ribbons around her neck and choked her mercilessly, let her fall into cold ground, and tried to make her learn her lesson.
Nothing was ever worth the loss that would come after— whether it'd be taking a chance and giving a smile to the prince she thought was hers or trying to get Blaine off the weekend of his birthday. Nothing.
The lesson never worked, no matter how much injury and conflict and ruin it'd give her, Isolde would be slaughtered by the unwilling love that enraptured her being, made her commit and give in to things she knew were stupid. Again and again and again.
It's a curse, she thought, sparing the woman a glance yet again, a disastrous curse befitting us common people. Us loving people. Us… us people.
Because everybody loves, in one way or another, for better or for worse, and love— well, it has a universal meaning, forever changing.
When Isolde was small, she looked at her parents and knew she liked Love quite a bit. Love is wonderful at that time, a splash of salt water that a lone otter appreciates on its own, a shy, lopsided grin as she watches her mother hold her father's hand.
She laughs at her friends making fun of their shitty substitute teacher with hands beside their heads and sticking at their tongues like kindergarteners. When that same teacher tries to put her in detention because she can't concentrate on the material they're all learning, Isabella and Ray both throw their books on the ground in perfect sync and get the attention away from her.
Tears brim her eyes afterwards and she hugs them both tighter than ever. Isabella's fruity perfume is strong on the clothes that Isolde's pressed against. Ray, with his arms wrapped around her, awkwardly says how it's not a big deal. We did what anyone would do— nobody's an ass to our Izzy.
At that moment, Isolde decides that she really loves her friends.
When she turns fifteen, Love is selfish and painful and burns her throat when she kisses a boy she's known for a day. It's the strong stench of liquor after a crazy night out where she wakes up laughing after a flash in memory, ignoring how it's three in the morning and she's definitely gonna get grounded. It's the scorching hot flames that make her cheeks burn red when she dreams about caressing a girl's scars.
Selene kisses her once at the end of the dance and backs away like she's done something awful, like she's killed someone. Guilt floods through the girl's expression, as she apologizes over and over, never giving Isolde a minute to say something— anything—
"I'm sorry," she says and Isolde stares at her like a gaping-mouth fish. "I– I should go."
Isolde's frizzy hair bounces as she tries to stumble after Selene, her coworker, her friend, her— her maybe-crush.
Her dress is tight as she runs back home, making her trip and falling and hurting herself against unforgiving concrete that splits into her pale skin. She curses the Plaid kingdom and how… advanced everything is, how she can't find a secretive, good place to cry in.
She hides herself in a music shop, not planning to buy anything. The crisp air seeping into her bloodied knee.
She, impulsive as she is, uses all the coins she's got and buys herself something pretty— something she's always wanted.
(And she uses the paper receipt to wipe her tears and smeared makeup.)
Her fingers drum against a bright-red guitar for the first time. She gives her heart to the instrument and she's not given it back. It's kept a secret, a lovely little gift at the end of the day where she can pour her soul into angry songs that make her feel alive.
When she grows from a teenager to just a tad bit older, Love is right and wrong and frustratingly confusing when she meets a prince who says he loves her, who calls her names that sound affectionate, who throws extravagant sweets into her arms and— well, it feels nice.
Even when he can't recall her favorite flower (begonias, which grow in afternoon shade and with fertile ground) and when he looks at her and she realizes how much he feels like a stranger.
It's still relatively innocent, she pretends that it's jitters when she feels scared at his more intense outbursts. They're still getting to know each other and Leland, though a little uncaring, disinterested, is nice enough.
Love at first sight makes her consider staying, before writing a letter to her father, asking for advice.
He never writes her back and she's left wondering what she's supposed to do now. She stays still, like prey acting dead, hoping that being queen for one of the biggest kingdoms in the world is something she can back away from.
The first child is what actually gets her to stay— and, it's okay then. She doesn't want Blaine to think his parents are unhappy. Leland lets Blaine sit with her for as long as they'd like when he doesn't have classes. Or music practice that goes on for hours. Or army training that Leland swears to her is just for boyish fun.
They sit in silence as Isolde runs her fingers through his shiny hair. His chubby face looks up at her and whispers words she barely catches.
"Chin up, bon-bon," she tells him, allowing herself to be playful as she pats his cheek affectionately. "Face the sky, the clouds— it's the only way you'll see what awaits you."
"Awaits me?" Blaine's a smart boy. He understands a lot more than one-year-olds usually do. It sorta scares Isolde because she knows Leland's smart too, that Leland's cynical, that her husband and her son have the same red eyes that face the same world.
She swallows painfully as she internalizes that her boy isn't the king. He will be, though, when he's older— but for now, he's one and naive and traces words with his fingers whenever he reads.
"I don't know what exactly but I know it's good," she admits, words flowing out directly from her heart. "I know that you're gonna be great— better than great, you're gonna be happy and and free and—"
"The best?" He asks. It's an innocent question yet it makes her freeze slightly, makes her tense up and think about it.
She doesn't remember ever answering him. She scooped him up into her arms, ruffling her queen dress, and held him close.
Now, as she's got three sons and a husband whose she watches more closely than is normal, Love is dangerous, a silver dagger made for killing, used for chopping bits of poison out of a twisted desire for power, a care for only one and that one only.
It's a driving motive and the defining reason for why people do things they normally wouldn't. It's repressed and condensed and ignored and not understood.
It's an unraveling theory about obsession and possession, what it means to deserve somebody else, what it means to learn to hate a bleeding heart.
But also, it's her son being pulled away from her on dark nights. It's hearing a tiny Fredrick whimper as he cradles his latest broken limb. It's having thoughts that nobody ever wants to hear, a brokedown melody that attracts not a single listener.
Compliments she can't tell. Kisses she can't give. Aching so desperately to have somebody, to let that person see who she is and accept her, wishing for a life where she could love freely, love messily, love with an open, ugly heart that's used and sloppy and imperfect— yet accepted.
Maybe, it dawns on her sourly, love isn't an option for people in situations like Isolde. Maybe, she feels too deeply and ruins everything for everyone. Maybe, it's her own fault for never having the strength to fight harder for love. Maybe— maybe, Isolde isn't built to love.
(The revelation hurts more than she expected it to.)
The lightest, most delicate sigh falls from the heavenly lips of the Pastel queen. Her calloused hands are pressed together firmly in her lap, her respectful posture never falling for even a second. The crown resonated on her skull like it was meant to be.
Not noticing Isolde in the slightest, Lilyth raised her head slightly upwards, her gloomy expression disappearing in a second, the brightest grin manifesting on her pretty face.
Perhaps, in another world, Isolde could fool herself into believing that smile was for her, but in this one, there was only one reason for that kind of smile, the gentle grin that didn't have to beg for glances.
King Jack has finally arrived, gazing at his queen with the fire of a thousand suns. Lilyth, although bashful, thrives at his attention, at the sunlight he provides with his sparkles and beams and jolts of laughter as he babbles on about something something, with Leland's name popping up every now and again.
Leland stands up straighter when he hears himself being brought up. It's not out of ego (at least, not this time, not with him) but out of need to be seen, to be noticed.
She recognized it in an instant that he wasn't listening to a word his best friend was saying— and neither was she, only taking in the presence of the other woman.
Isolde felt like a schoolgirl again, giddy and nervous over a particularly attractive classmate choosing to sit next to her. Noticing every glance she was blessed with, heart thumping gently as she forgot everything around her.
"Right, Leeloo?" Jack said, pausing his story for a moment of input that Leland would provide. The sparkles around him gleamed with anticipation.
Leland shook slightly, before settling himself firmly, blinking like a fool. "Oh, yes, yes," he said, offhandedly and quite clearly distracted. "Of course, Jackie!"
Despite her distaste for him, Isolde had to bite back a thin-lipped smile that looked more like an upturned grimace than anything else.
Ironically, it appeared that husband and wife of the Plaid kingdom were both utterly enamored with their Pastel counterparts.
Lilyth lets out the softest chuckle Isolde ever heard, the skin around her mirthful eyes crinkling with joy, and her mind is gone with the wind yet again.
Love, a word that means millions upon millions of things to everybody that's ever existed but there's one common ground that stays the same.
Us loving people, Isolde thought for the final time as she lost herself in her loud surroundings, in her own yearning, we're all cursed.
#cursed princess club#cross posted on ao3#cpc angst#cpc oneshot#cpc isolde#cpc leelathae#cpc leland#cpc jack#isolde x leelathae
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Isolee being a pair of messy teenagers trying to fit in in different ways while vs Isolee being young adults trying to learn how to be steady in a chaotic world vs Isolee healing from past traumas and taking on the world together
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wallmart emplooyee isolde who basically just slacks at her job and is the slowest worker in the history of work x leelathae, just moved to their country and doesn't have any friends, who doesn't mind and enjoys talking to her <33
#cursed princess club#one day leelathae shows up with jack and isolde...... my girl would be sideeying him so hard ☠☠#isolde x leelathae
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Isolee raising Lance headcanons (for the soul)
- Lance would have a ton of questions as a kid, he just looks at something, between playing with his toy truck and eating yogurt, and thinks, dang, I wanna know about that.
- they visit the ocean a lot !!!! +++ music stores. tons and tons of music stores.
- Lance bakes with his moms a lot :)) Isolde may not have the money to afford all of her luxury desserts but she now has the will power to make them herself with the people she loves.
- Leelathae slowly opening up about her past !! About her history !!!! About her island !!!! Lance would be so intrigued.
- Lance grows up to be a strong, healthy young boy who helps ppl out in town :) he's apart of the baking committee and also takes plenty of sports for fun. like. I'm talking this kid did karate, football, soccer, volleyball, cheerleading, like??? Olympics who.
- at first, Leelathae's shy about participating in town's activities but then she begins to warm up to it, seeing how accepting everybody is and how proud Lance is to drag her around and introduce her as his mom to everybody.
- Lance learns a lot of slang from Isolde. and also. a multitude of instruments that he loves to play but he never quite learns - he just likes to do things, for the purpose of it making him and other people happy.
- Lance doesn't do well in school but gets along a lot with the other kids, loves to tell jokes that sometimes disrupt the class.
- Isolde and Leelathae live in a small cottage-type home by the beach, they get married some time or another when they've got the funds for it, and Lance grows up supported and loved :)
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something about teenage Isolee because !!! isolde, hopeless romantic, teenage rockstar (in progress), girl who falls at first sight x Leelathae, who is super sweet and kinda shy and not really sure of anything in this new world but wants to know !! she wants to fit in and isolde, at that point, takes pride in standing out, like a misfit. they would be so mismatched and they would just be so !!! they !!!
#cursed princess club#i will never shut up abt them !!#even if i cant put it into words :P#isolde x leelathae
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pre-canon isolee <3
youtube
"thank God you introduced me to your best friend's girlfriend"
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Don't ask me why or how this happened but It Did
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"Never Getting Rid Of Me" is soooo teenage Isolde & Leelathae core,,
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CPC wlw my beloved !!!! like. all of 'em. Jolie x Nell ? the OG. Syrah x Prez? chef's kiss. Abbi x Gwen? Ajsysjahdjwbdhee <333 Isolde x Leelathae? sweet!! (like cake :))) Agatha x Molly? romantic rivals to lovers. Renée x Aurelia? slowburn (or, fast burn, considering Aurelia's curse) Molly x Leelathae? gals being more than galpals :DD
every single one of them, my beloved :))
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3, 5, and 6? (≧▽≦)
3: all time favorite pairing: Isolee (Isolde x leelathae) ofc!! <33
5: favorite platonic pairing: Lance & Blaine as of the current!!! aahstsjshsh can't stop posting about them,, they are so perfect and they just make my Brain EXPLODE. rant incoming but
Blaine and Lance just have That Something to them, that contrast, that shared past, that angst and that comfort and just—can you imagine having an ally in the constant competition for your father’s love (for your own safety), having a baby brother to protect and care for, and you've never. Can you imagine being ripped from your mother's arms, and the air of your kingdom is so much colder than the womb, and then suddenly—a year later, you're one, you're one and your father has only held you once, one is such a lonely number—you’re joined by this cooing ray of sunshine? You're warm for the first time in your life. He wears blue, you wear red. You feel so much bigger than him, so much older. He's so loud, so talkative, so hyperactive—at first, you don't understand it. You're a brother, but, more importantly, you're his brother. “Every king needs a knight,” your father whispered to you when you were seven and he was six. He was five, before. You agree, but you can't ever see Lance being the one protecting you—it’s too dangerous out there, you've seen the gladiator battles Father has you go to. In your mind, he's still six when you turn eight. He's still six when you turn sixteen and are deemed old enough to pose shirtless in those tabloid magazines. He is not an enemy, not when he's distracting you from piano lessons or sneaking you away for an extra cookie. Can you imagine?
Can you imagine being born into a family without love? You don't get why Mom doesn't let you hug her, or why Dad has you stuck in a room with people too big, talking in those condescending voices as they point to letters. You want to run, and you do—you run, you fence. You're really good at fencing. You want the people you love to smile. You never know why they don't—you’re happy, your grin always hurts, so wide it dimples your cheeks. Mom smiled at you during dinner, once! Blaine’s smiled at you, in that half-sacronic tired way, more times you can count. (You're not good at counting.) You wear blue, he wears red. Brothers, you think, as you follow him into Academy, wearing your uniform looser than his. He's the student body president, you copy off the answers of last night’s homework from your buddy and Blaine sniffs, but, hey, he tells you about how Mr. Dovecote is particularly partial to students who bring him those fancy chocolates from the Gingerbread Man’s Catchin’ candy shop in the local town. You read this picture book, once—Andre said it was a graphic novel—about these two skeleton brothers with red and blue. You think they're just like him and you. You like hanging with your friends more than your studies, you don't like to read that boring Shakesphere stuff, you learned to do keg stands at sixteen years old. His nose wrinkles in disdain when you told him that, but he never told Dad about it. You admire him and tease him at the same time. He's your brother, you'll follow him into the end of the earth but that doesn't mean you won't laugh your ass off the second he trips on a pebble. You are second-born, raised by Blaine’s watchful eye and the people around you’s guiding hands, and you're raised to believe yourself capable. Your brother is wary around your father and that means you can't kick your feet under the table, you can't be a second late. Over the years, you learn why he's so scared. Sometimes, you don't know why he protected you for so long. But you know. You know, even with your dumb all-muscle brain. Can you imagine?
6: favorite headcanon: oohhh I have so many headcanons 😭😭 okay but My Favorite would be that Isolde was definitely in a band. you can't tell me she wasn't, and she was DEFINITELY a guitar player.
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