Tumgik
#donkeyskin
the-evil-clergyman · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
Donkeyskin, from The Fairy Tales of Charles Perrault by Harry Clarke (1922)
1K notes · View notes
pr0serpinaa · 10 months
Text
A List of Dreamy Fairytale and Fantasy Films
Panna a netvor (Beauty and the Beast) (1979)
The Thief of Bagdad (1940)
Tři oříšky pro Popelku (Three Wishes for Cinderella) (1973)
The Company of Wolves (1984)*
Rodgers & Hammerstein's Cinderella (1997)
Rusalochka (The Little Mermaid) (1976)
Lisova Pisnya (A Song of the Forest: Mavka) (1981 or 1983)
The Red Shoes (1948)
Ever After (1998)
Morozko (Jack Frost) (1964)
Soľ nad zlato (The Salt Prince) (1983)
Legend (1985)
Deváté srdce (The Ninth Heart) (1979)
Labyrinth (1986)
Peau d’Âne (Donkyskin) (1970)
Ashik Kerib (The Lovelorn Minstrel) (1988)
*The Company of Wolves is also a horror movie (and as such is rated R), so this is something to keep in mind if you are sensitive to certain themes
215 notes · View notes
traumendesmadchen · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
That’s it. After so many years, our fairytale inspired visual novel Chronotopia: Second Skin is now officially released on Steam and itchio!
💜Grab it now on your favourite platform with a 20% off launch discount for the 1st week!💜
youtube
I really hope you will enjoy Chronotopia’s story. If so, be sure to leave a review or a comment to share your thoughts about the game. It will help us a lot as we’re a small team and visibility is everything these days.
✨You can also find the full credits on itchio to see who participated in the project in great details✨
134 notes · View notes
denastudio · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
Peau d'Âne (1970), dir. Jacques Demy
207 notes · View notes
princesssarisa · 1 month
Text
I like adaptations of Cinderella or Donkeyskin/All-Kinds-of-Fur that draw on the oral tradition of the heroine giving the Prince a riddle about her identity, based on their earlier meetings when she was in her rags. But which don't have the Prince physically abuse the "dirty scullery maid" in those earlier meetings the way he does in traditional oral tales, and which base her riddle on something else.
In traditional versions of Donkeyskin/All-Kinds-of-Fur, where the heroine works as a servant at the palace, she typically takes off the Prince's boots for him, only for him to throw them at her, or fetches water for his bath, only for him to refuse to bathe in water touched by such a filthy girl and throw it onto her. (Or some other such things.) Or in some versions of Cinderella, she meets him on the road one day, he accidentally drops his riding whip, and she hands it back to him, only for him to swat her with it just because she looks so filthy and ugly. Then at the ball or at church, when he falls in love with the "mysterious lady" without knowing her real identity, he asks her where she comes from, and she replies that she's from the land of "Boot" or "Bath" or "Pick-Up-the-Whip." This traditionally happens three times over the course of the story.
This obviously doesn't work so well in a more modern retelling, since we're not so inclined to accept a heroine being abused by her future love interest, or a prince who's supposed to be the good guy casually abusing a servant or a peasant girl.
But a few adaptations find substitutes.
For example, Jim Henson's The Storyteller retells the story of Donkeyskin/All-Kinds-of-Fur as Sapsorrow, and has the heroine draw her cryptic statement at the ball from a verbal insult the initially-rude Prince gave her. The second time the Prince interacts with Sapsorrow in her furry disguise, he says that "cats chase mice, hens lay eggs," never the reverse, and that likewise he has (and wants) nothing to do with her. Later, at the ball, when he asks the beautiful princess where she comes from, she says she lives "where hens chase mice and cats lay eggs."
Then there's the classic 1973 Czech film Three Wishes for Cinderella. Cinderella and the Prince meets repeatedly before the ball: both in her ordinary rags, where they exchange some sassing and insults but earn each other's respect, and at a royal hunt, where she disguises herself as a boy and outshoots all the men. At the ball, when he asks her to marry him, she insists that first he answer three riddles: "Whose face is smudged with ashes but isn't a chimney sweep? Who has a feathered hat and a crossbow, but isn't a huntsman? Who wears a gown embroidered in silver, but isn't a princess?"
Then there's the 2011 adaptation of Aschenputtel from the German Christmas fairy tale anthology Sechs auf einen Streich. In that one, Prince Viktor and Cinderella meet twice before the ball: the first time, he accidentally causes her to fall face-down into a mud puddle, and the second time, she accidentally spills a sack of flour all over herself. Both of these scenes are friendly and funny, though of course far from traditionally romantic or dignified. At the ball, when he doesn't recognize her, she tells him that they've met twice before, and that their meetings were "first all black, then all white."
They all capture the essence of the older versions with their cunning, riddling Cinderellas, but without the uglier part.
@adarkrainbow, @ariel-seagull-wings
48 notes · View notes
adarkrainbow · 1 month
Text
Fairytales in French cinema
Pictures from Jacques Demy's "Peau d'Âne" (Donkeyskin). This 1970 movie was Jacques Demy's attempt at creating a move equal to the classical Disney fairytale movies (like Snow-White, Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty), but in France and in live-action. It is commonly agreed that he succeeded.
"Peau d'Âne" stays one of the most iconic pieces of French fantasy in cinema, and one of the two most famous fairytale movies of France - alongside Cocteau's Beauty and the Beast.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
26 notes · View notes
archibaldtuttle · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pride flag color picked from screencaps of Donkeyskin (1970)
61 notes · View notes
morte-a-elle-meme · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
My recent obsession for Puss in Boots made me dive back in the Shrek universe, and I thought about which famous fairy-tale character hasn’t yet appeared in the franchise. I don’t know if princess Donkeyskin (from Charles Perrault’s tales) is very well known in the english-speaking world, but I thought that she could make a great antagonist/ redeemable villain for an eventuel sequel. Her design is inspiring, her backstory pretty dark (even by the classic fairy-tale standart) and she would make a great foil for Donkey lol
61 notes · View notes
Text
The Skin We’re In: A Jotunn!Loki/Reader Fairy Tale
You grew up slowly falling in love with your best friend, the God of Mischief, but after the death of your mother drives your father insane, Thor whisks you to a place he knows will be safe until Loki can defeat your father: but you’ll have to render yourself undetectable (i.e. ugly) in order to slip through your father’s fingers.
I got an Anon prompt asking me to rewrite a fairy tale around Loki. They suggested Cinderella, but I’m extra, so I based this on the fairy tale Donkeyskin, a story that goes so dark even Disney won’t touch it. In this AU, Loki was always informed of his true heritage as Little Blue Baby Icicle.
Content Warning: Family death, implied incestuous sexual abuse, physical insecurities, self-harm ideation Word Count: 7.3k (sorry, it’s long, it may be easier to read on my AO3 HERE)
Tumblr media
Once upon a time, in a world far away from the one we know, you fell in love with a handsome prince.
“Loki! Show me! Show me!” you begged from your place sitting on his desk chair, your feet scuffing against the carpet impatiently.
The youthful second son of Odin smiled sheepishly. ‘Sheepish’ wasn’t an attitude your best friend had very often. He was newly grown, as were you. The pair of you had grown up alongside one another, as your father was one of Odin’s advisors.  As children you played innocently as Asgardian children did: from the fun days spent chucking spears at one another in jest, to the fun days spent chucking spears at your tutors when they scolded you, to the fun days spent chucking spears at the spear makers, who kept forgetting to change the lock to the door of their workshop.
You got pretty good with spears as time went on.
Now, on the eve of your majority, you and Loki were finally beginning to accept that things were changing between you. Childhood giggles turned into bashful flirts. Practical jokes became stolen kisses. The way you got out of breath after winning a footrace against him became the thumping of your heart after Loki touched your cheek and looked into your eyes.
When you’d first made love, you felt like you could fly. The way you both gave yourselves to one another, exploring each other’s’ bodies deep into the night, letting Loki lose control as he went inside you under a canopy of stars and planets on a cool evening. It was the type of memory that you immediately tattooed onto your heart, and retrieving it always made you feel serene and peaceful.
While the concept of ‘virginity’ held little meaning to an Asgardian, it still meant something to the both of you when you allowed one another to be your first partners. The next morning, Loki declared that not only were you his first sexual experience, but you would be his only partner for life, as he could never imagine sex being better or more meaningful with anyone else, even with Freyja herself.
Once you had your next birthday, Loki could formally ‘come for you’ and ask you to be his bride. You would leave your father’s house and be one of Queen Frigga’s Ladies in Waiting until the wedding. Almost everyone, including Frigga, Odin, and Thor, were expecting the announcement from Loki any day.
“You know how I feel about showing anyone, even you,” Loki sighed to himself, turning away from you and facing the mirror. “I’m not even supposed to tell anyone about it, especially since the last time the Frost Giants attacked our northern border.”
“But Loki,” you whined playfully, hopping off your chair and sauntering over, standing behind your love. “You’re beautiful when you show me. I love you no matter what skin you’ve got, no matter what color. You are still my Loki, my Love, my God.”
Loki looked at your reflection in the mirror. Norns, you were a beauty! Every graceful curve of your body made him shudder with need inside. Your wide eyes were the only ones that could penetrate his thoughts and make him drop his defenses. You were the only being Loki would fall on his knees for. If the future Princess of Asgard thought his Jotunn skin was beautiful and wanted to see it, how could he deny you anything?
Stepping back, Loki let the ice blue hue crawl up his palm, taking over his entire body and turning him into his pure, half-giant form. You gasped in awe and surprise, tracing a finger up his arm admiringly. “If you ever became King, you could look like this all the time and no one could stop you, you know.”
“My brother and father would have to die for me to become King,” Loki said quietly. “I cannot bring myself to lay a hand on the two men who were willing to let me live in their family with my Jotunn blood. So, I will need to find another way of getting my freedom.” He turned to you and took you in his arms. “But once we marry, I can turn into this for you every night in our bed if that is your wish.”
Just hearing him affirm his intentions gave you pleasure within. “I love you. All of you. No matter how you appear, as long as Fate keeps us together, there is no way I could ever find you anything other than beautiful.”
Loki gently cupped your cheek in his hands and leaned in for an intimate kiss, when suddenly a guard burst into the study.
“Oh, what is it??” Loki asked angrily.
“You Highness, it’s Lady Y/N’s mother. She’s died.”
---
Your mother, whom you almost impeccably resembled in appearance, had collapsed suddenly and passed away from illness. It was a shock to you and your father. Weeks and months passed, as did the birthday where your engagement was to be formally announced, without anything but tears, sorrow, and suffering for you.
The last time you saw Loki was at the funeral rites, where you weren’t even allowed to be near him, as your father, Friede, forbade you from leaving his side in the receiving lines and death processions. You only saw him briefly as the royals came through to offer condolences. Thor had embraced you. Loki could barely get a word out before Friede forced your attention elsewhere.
The entirety of the funeral, you just wanted to run away with your beloved, and get away forever from the remarks you’d been receiving all day:
“Her soul lives on in you.” “You are a perfect resemblance.” “Its as if she created you in her image, Y/N!”
After about a week was the first time your father came to you with a strange look in his eye. He had barely spoken to you, nor had he ever allowed you to leave the house, since your mother’s death. He hadn’t done anything except glare at you for an abnormally long time in your dressing robe before clearing out and leaving you be. You felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention.
The following day, you found lilies in your doorway. Loki didn’t like lilies, so they weren’t from him. Something about the way the petals felt hot on your skin made you immediately throw them away.
You kept longing for Loki to contact you, but after a month crept by, you began to feel like he would never come for you, even as your father kept you sequestered in your manor, closer to him than you were comfortable.
Then, he began the strange requests. “Sit on my lap, Y/N! Father knows what’s best for you! Let me run my fingers through your hair, you look so much like your mother!”
Months in the dark became hell, alone and afraid of what your deluded father may do next. He’d dismissed your attendants, so no one knew what he was beginning to do. You had no way of escaping, either. Every day you feared that he would finally crawl over the edge and molest you, or even worse. Your natural beauty had suddenly become your biggest detriment. You couldn’t escape your father’s wandering eye no matter where you went in the house. He sealed every door with magic that only he could unlock. Every window had an alarm trigger on it that would immediately shut the gates to your family estate. Worst of all, you feared what Friede would do to you if he caught you trying to leave.
The first night you saw his shadow standing over your bed, you managed to get away by locking yourself in your bathroom until he gave in. You knew then that you needed some serious help. But how? Where could you go? How long could you hold out until you couldn’t fight off your mad father any more?
You felt your life quickly drain away from you as the first few months passed. Each night, you barricaded your door against your father, avoided meals, and sat alone in your room, passing the time with books or painting. You only wanted to go outside, to see friends. To kiss your Loki, then slap him for never coming to rescue you.
You missed his soft, warm lips leaving traces down your neck, the feeling when his front teeth nipped at your skin. You wanted to once again see the blessed vision of Loki leaning over you, looking down into your eyes with thick, heavy lust. Even just for the momentary pleasure of hearing his low, authoritative voice mumble sweet poems in your ear, you would surrender anything.
Six months without Loki, and you felt your heart finally turn to stone. All hope was drained from you. You’d likely die up here in your tower, constantly hoping Friede would wake up one morning cured of his incestuous delusions. You could have cast away your memories in the hopes that forgetting them would free you from at least a bit of emotional burden.
No, you thought in the end. My memories are all I have now. I won’t throw him away, even if he did so to me.
One morning, what you couldn’t possibly conceive of happened.
You heard Friede knocking on your door one morning. Taking a meat knife from last night’s supper plate, you slid it under the sleeve of your tunic ready to draw blood if it meant keeping your father from assaulting you in his maddened state.
Opening the door, you saw Friede down on one knee, holding up your mother’s emerald engagement ring. You’d thought she’d been buried with it.
“My darling—”
You screamed and shut the door in his face almost immediately. After a loud groan from outside, you began hearing pounding fists and desperate hollers.
“Why? Why won’t you consider marrying me?”
“I’m your DAUGHTER, you pig!” you cried back, quick to shove your dresser in front of the door as you’d done every single night.
“You are your mother’s angel! It makes sense. We are supposed to be together forever, and we can be!”
“Leave me alone!”
“What can I do? Can I do anything to make you accept my proposal? I will do anything, my eternal love!”
You felt the total dirt of your parent calling you ‘his eternal love’ creep up through your veins, gelling your blood and making you turn cold. You considered ending your life in that moment for the first time. This was too much for you to bear, and without Loki, what was the point?
Still, you thought a moment before answering. Perhaps there was still a way to pit your wits against him. Maybe you could delay your father’s disgusting intentions.
“There is one thing,” You began softly, trying to ignore the taste of bitterness in your mouth as you answered him.
“ANYTHING!” Friede sounded like a desperate, ravenous wolf.
“Make me a wedding dress out of the threads from Arachne’s web. It must glow brighter than Odin’s crown, and every inch must be covered in red gems found in the heart of an asteroid. I will not consider you until I have it.”
There, that was a damn tall order for him. He had to go to Olympus, steal threads from the Goddess Arachne’s work, then find a magician who could enchant such a pristine glow into the fabric, and finally, find an asteroid somewhere in the cosmos that possessed thousands of red gems in its’ core. There was no way he could ever meet those expectations!
But, as you’d hoped, he left the manor straight away, unfortunately leaving the windows and doors magically sealed so you couldn’t slip out while he was gone. You could, however, freely move about the manor for the first time in a very long while without feeling fear. Your mood only picked up a little bit as you re-explored your childhood home. You were able to read in the study (dusty from lack of use), eat in the dining hall (also dusty and unkempt), and you were even able to look out over the quarter of Asgard your family resided in through the large window in the attic.
You considered attempting to break the seals on the doors, but you were also like you mother in that you possessed very little capacity for magic. Some people just didn’t have it in their blood, and you never felt resentment (at least before now). Nor did you see a way to even signal someone for help.
At least you were certain you had time to figure out a plan. Maybe you could send smoke signals out of the fire place? Except you had no wood to burn. What about hanging a banner out of a window? Damn all, the windows were just as sealed as the doors.
Would you die in here? With Friede gone, there was no one to bring food.
Four days after Friede went off on his quest for your wedding gown, everything changed.
You were called to the window one wild and stormy evening to a familiar yell from below your room in the front courtyard. “LADY Y/N!! MY SISTER?! CAN YOU HERE ME? ARE YOU THERE?? ARE YOU ALIVE??”
It wasn’t your beloved, but it was his brother, Prince Thor, heir apparent to the throne.
“I CAN HEAR AND SEE YOU!” you replied, your heart racing. “BUT MY FATHER’S SEIDR HAD SEALED ME INSIDE! I’M TRAPPED!”
Thor nodded and raised his right arm, Mjolnir poised above his head. In one mighty motion, he hurled it at a bay window on the ground floor. Your heart leapt at the sound of crashing glass and breaking metal. The Hammer of Thor was still undefeated.
Taking off like a shot, you sprinted to meet Thor down in the foyer, where he embraced you so tightly you screeched at him to loosen his grip before he broke you in half.
“How did you find me?” you cried into his shoulder. “And where is Loki? Why hasn’t he come for me?”
“We thought you were dead, my sister,” Thor replied. You pulled away from him and asked why. “Friede told the court that the week of your mother’s passing, you died from heartbreak. Loki was inconsolable. He destroyed his room and disappeared for weeks at a time. It was like watching his soul fly away.”
You immediately felt six months of isolation and depression well up behind your eyes like lava, until the hot tears finally blinked out. “But, you never came to see for yourself, nor ask why there was no funeral for me?”
Thor explained. “He told us he preferred a private interment. We saw how upset he was and granted his wish. But then, he came to us again about four days ago, declaring that you, in fact, were alive, and had agreed to…to marry him? Please tell me THAT isn’t so.”
You shook your head immediately. “Never!”
“He said he had a quest to complete for your hand, but he wanted Odin’s blessing.”
“And did he get it?”
“Of course not!” Thor scoffed. “Odin was almost certain he was being tricked, but Friede wasn’t stopped. He declared that no God or man could stop him from wedding you. He went off to Olympus after that.”
“And does Loki know any of this?” you asked.
Thor nodded. “For years, I’ve known Loki was never able to lift Mjolnir…but if ever there was a time he was worthy, it was in the moments after Friede declared his betrothal. He raged like I’ve never seen a warrior do, and he took off almost instantly to the armory. It’s quite obvious he intends to track down your father. I couldn’t stop him.”
“He’ll be hurt!”
“You already have been,” Thor added. “But he did leave me with one command before he went off into the Nine Realms.”
“And that is?”
Thor took something out of his pocket. It was an amulet, but not a very attractive one. A large token hung on the dull, silver chain: a donkey head. “He had this hexed and gave it to me, saying it will protect you from Friede. Then, he told me to take you somewhere outside of Asgard. Somewhere off-world. Somewhere beyond the Bifrost.”
You bit your lip. “How far?”
“Very,” Thor confirmed. “Friede is one of Odin’s fiercest generals. He can track a falcon on a cloudy day. If he wants to find you anywhere in the Universe, he will. In order to hide you, you will need to not only always wear this pendant, but you will need to stay with a few…friends of mine.”
“What friends?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at Thor’s odd tone.
“I’ve been to Midgard. It was a dare gone wrong, don’t ask. But I met a few people down there who can ensure your safety until Loki can come for you.”
You scoffed. “Midgard? How can they possibly protect me down there? Do they even have magic?”
Thor shrugged. “A different kind of magic. They call themselves researchers. Their names are Jane, Erik, and Darcy.”
You nodded. Even some heathen’s tent on Midgard was preferable than waiting here in the dark until your insane father decided to return. “Give me the amulet,” you commanded, holding out your hand. “I want to leave as fast as possible.”
Thor hesitated a moment. “There is one more thing you need to know about the amulet.”
You rolled your eyes and went to grab it from him, succeeding. You quickly put the necklace on, and instantly you felt a slightly-painful tinge circulate throughout your body. Thor became a bit taller to you, and you felt your shiny hair begin to tangle and grow over your face. Dark green sparks flew up in front of you as your robes grew bigger and bigger until they could barely stay up around your emaciated frame.
Once the magic receded, you looked to Thor, and noticed he looked rather uncomfortable. “What was that?” you asked quietly.
“Well, err…you have a mirror nearby?”
You nodded and walked brisky down the hallway to your left, knowing of the giant mirror in the hall outside the kitchen. You found it and nearly screamed at what stood before you.
You were HIDEOUS. A BEAST, you were disgusting and riddled with pustules, pimples, and rashes across your skin and face. Your nose had almost entirely receded, your eyebrows were thick enough to spin into yarn, your eyes misaligned, one eye electric green and the other ocean blue, your hair unkempt and greyish blue. Your body was so frail it could be blown over with a quiet breeze. Your teeth were so yellow they were nearly brown, several crooked and several more cracked or cavity-laden. You even had little brown hairs sprouting about your chin, ears, and hands.
“What the HELL have you done to me, Thor?!” you yelled. “What does this--?”
You ripped off the pendant, and your ugly exterior instantly fell away, causing you to sigh with relief.
“It’s a disguise. You HAVE to wear it at all times on Midgard. It’s the only way Friede won’t be able to locate you. He would never assume this was you,” Thor explained. “Please? I wish to see my brother’s wedding day.”
“But, but…”
Thor sighed and looked around you. “I guess you could stay here and hope--?”
You didn’t want that. Any more time in this luxurious prison and you would go insane as your father had. You turned to look at your normal self in the mirror, getting one last good at yourself before putting on the amulet again. You imagined Loki walking up behind you in the reflection, his nimble fingers running over your bare shoulders, his nose nestling at your ear affectionately.
“Find me, my love,” you prayed before looking over your shoulder, the specter of your lover dissipating into the air with your movement.
“Thor?” you asked quietly.
Thor had gone over to the front door back in the foyer, using Mjolnir to destroy it, exposing the entryway to the roaring rain and wind outside. “Yes, sister?”
You turned the donkey’s head over three times in your palm. Even touching the damn thing made your skin lose its glow. “Will he be able to find me? Even when I’m wearing this?”
Thor walked back in your direction, meeting you in the foyer. “My friend, you and my brother could find one another from across time and space. The two of you were naming your children before you went off to school. Loki will know who you are in an instant. Now, we need to hurry. I have Heimdall waiting.”
Thor went back to the door, and you took one last breath before donning the loathed amulet, letting the green mist set you back into your horrendous new skin. Then, you took a cloak from the closet nearby and followed Thor out into the turbulent night.
-----------
Fourteen months later…
Tired, hungry, desperate, and more ambitious than ever, Loki maneuvered his small Asgardian craft on the asteroid’s surface, behind a boulder big enough to conceal the ship within its’ shadow. Before getting out and beginning to look for signs of other travelers on the surface, Loki looked down at the parchment Thor had given him before he went off to execute that perverted worm who dared to even consider holding you as a captive bride of incest. The parchment only had a few scribbles on it:
Midgard. Puente Antiguo, New Mexico. Be discreet.
This was where you awaited him, and he knew he was nearly there after so long. He just had to finish slaying this dragon for you first.
Over a year, Loki had been traversing the Nine Realms, looking for anything that could have drawn him closer to Friede. Friede had somehow managed to steal Arachne’s threads with little trouble, and he was gone by the time Loki arrived. Escaping Olympus had been rough, especially when he had been blamed for the missing thread and was made to sneak his way off the world.
Having lost the trail, Loki kept searching. He had no idea where to look for one who could make a dress glow brighter than Odin’s crown, so instead, Loki chose to begin searching for the elusive Ruby Asteroid, the only space rock in the Nine Realms that was known to harbor red gems in its’ core. No matter how quickly or slowly Friede could render the dress aglow, it would still take him time to find the Ruby Asteroid, and Loki was infinitely cleverer than his possible father-in-law. Loki knew if he took a shortcut and headed for the space rock, he could cut his adversary off and end him before a single ruby could fall into his hand.
Even an asteroid feels like a planet to anyone on its’ surface. Loki scoured it for weeks, searching every cavern and crevice, every possible place one could make their way down into the underground. Nothing showed, even as time passed and Loki was forced to set up a camp and find an off-asteroid food supply. Perhaps it would take years for that bloated biscuit to find this place?
Every time Loki was spent and went back to his ship to sleep for a few hours, he found himself staring up through the roof to the black skies above, filled with stars, planets, and galaxies. He had hoped he would be touching the furthest points of the universe with you on your honeymoon. While it was usually difficult to find fitful rest on this freezing rock, Loki always managed to find sleep looking up at the cosmos dangling above, choosing which star you two would explore first.
He always picked the one that looked farthest away.
Every time he thought of you, he began to do something he hadn’t before. He’d started reverting to his Frost Giant skin and allowing himself to live within it for long periods of time. In those long months alone and searching, he’d remembered how you loved his blue skin and red eyes, and whenever you could convince him to do so, begged him to ‘turn blue.’ When he did this, he felt his emotions and longing for you rising, and when he was in Jotunn form was when he felt closest to you.
Even though he’d known since childhood that he was an adopted half-Frost Giant, Odin had always discouraged Loki from showing his heritage off in front of others. While he was grateful the truth was not kept from him entirely, it, of course, made him feel shame as he grew. The only times he could show his true skin were when he was alone, or with you. After this, if he ever found his way to your side again, he made a vow to himself to wear his true skin more. If you could see his true beauty, surely others could as well. He would be fully free.
The more time he spent in solitude, awaiting Friede, the more he spent wearing his natural blue skin, and the more he grew to long for the day he could show his true colors in the light, in front of all of Asgard.
Now, he was using his craft to migrate to another region on the asteroid, looking for anything that indicated disturbance. Every other time he did this, not so much as a shifted pebble was to be seen, and Loki would give up and touch down once again.
However, something felt different this time. Loki felt on edge, especially has something caught his eye from off to the right side of his path:
Another ship, an older Asgardian model a noble or military superior would use for themselves.
“Norns, this is it.”
Loki quietly parked his craft and looked around for wherever Friede could have gone. In the darkness, this was especially difficult, but Loki could use a little magic to increase his vision a bit, which helped. After what felt like days, Loki finally found a crevice just large enough for a body to slip within, and once Loki made his way inside, the boulder was revealed to be hollow, with a large cave making its way lower into the ground towards what appeared to be a red glow.
However, Loki didn’t have time to make it to the source of the glow, because Friede began making his way back up through the passage, holding a large lavender wedding gown that looked like it was made from the lightest material possible. It glowed brightly enough to completely illuminate the passage. It had thousands of red gems already sewn into it, creating trim and a bodice for the dress, lining the collar and hems and creating intricate fleur-de-lys patterns. It was the most magnificent gown any being ever laid eyes on.
I’m almost too late, Loki thought. Standing tall and imposing, Loki blocked Friede’s way, forcing him to stop.
“Who are you?” Friede muttered from behind the piles of tulle and silk.
“How dare you address your Prince so informally?” Loki barked. “You will kneel before royalty, insolent wretch!”
“Prince Loki, your highness! What brings you to this little rock? I was picking up a gift for my bride to be—”
“—you will surrender the dress to me, leave this place at once, and never contact your daughter again,” Loki commanded.
Friede responded with a slow, rolling laugh that gradually got louder and more unhinged. “Oh, my Prince, you don’t understand!”
Loki advanced on Friede with royal authority. “How dare you desecrate your name? How dare you strive for such an abomination? How dare you lay a finger on my beloved? How dare you LIE to me and make me believe that she was dead for six months?? She will be Princess of Asgard, and you are heretofore banished from the Nine Realms until your dying breath.”
“Oh, no, no, no, I won’t leave Asgard without my wife,” Friede mumbled, standing his ground but beginning to nervously ball the dress up in his large hands. “How can you be so against true love?”
Loki growled like a wolf, ready to defend the pack. “Your demented, twisted version of love extracts no sympathy from me. Now, unhand that damned dress or you will be under a death sentence by order of your Prince.”
Friede laughed again. “Spare me the theatrics, you cerulean freak! My daughter doesn’t deserve to be yoked to a disgusting half-breed no matter what kind of royalty he is!”
With those painful words, Friede began spinning the dress around in his hands, forcing the light glow to intensify to the point where Loki was blinded by it. The red light receded after a moment, but only before Loki could realize that Friede had moved past him and made his way to the exit.
As Loki’s sight returned, he could see Friede pause to pick something up off the ground. A slip of paper.
Friede chuckled. “Midgard, huh? Not exactly a small hiding place, but someone with Y/N’s looks won’t be too difficult to find! Thanks for the tip, your highness!”
Loki gave chase, but Friede was too swift. Loki barely made it out of the cavern in time to see his small shuttle take off and fly quickly into the black sky.
----
It was way too hot in New Mexico. You absolutely couldn’t take it anymore. At this point, you were pretty sure you were going to melt into the dirt before your beloved could locate you.
Jane and Erik were nice enough (Darcy asked you too many questions about exactly how attractive Asgardian men were), and they were able to spare you a small room in their office, but you rarely left it. You couldn’t take the heat, and you couldn’t take the prying eyes the few times you were coerced by Jane into going to the local diner (where you were now).
Thor only stayed briefly to explain things to Jane before going off to find his brother. He’d promised to check in from time to time, but in the fourteen months since he’d delivered you to your hiding place, he hadn’t shown himself. You knew when Jane asked you to go to a ‘girls’ night’ with her, she was going to ask you about Thor and Asgard. At first, you’d obliged her, but as time wore on, you were beginning to believe that you were standing in the town you would be buried in.
“So, how different is time out there?” Jane asked.
You shrugged. “How am I supposed to know that? It’s my home, it’s just how time works for me. All I know is that here, it feels like a standstill, but that isn’t because of time.”
“I know how that feels,” Jane moaned.
An older woman in a waitress’ uniform came out with two bowls of soup, setting one bowl down in front of each of you. You noticed her avoiding your eyes in a way she hadn’t with Jane.
You had worn the donkey’s head amulet for fourteen months without removing it for so much as a bath, and you were beginning to feel bonded to it in a way that distressed you. The hex was attaching itself to your body now, and soon enough, if you didn’t take it off, you felt as if you were going to be stuck that way for all time. You were well aware of how hideous you were. You had to keep reminding yourself it was all for your safety, and that Loki could come any day.
But what if he never came?
“Excuse you, but that was rude,” Jane said, firmly but calmly. “She’s a person. Treat her like one, please.”
The waitress looked directly at you now and shrugged sheepishly. “Sorry, Miss.”
After she walked away, you leaned over the table and whispered. “You don’t have to defend me, you know. It’s been more than a year. I’ve gotten worse looks from clergy.”
Jane shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I’m sick of seeing it too.  People can be terrible.”
“My father is scouring the galaxy to try and force me into marrying him. I assure you, Asgardians are no better.” You looked out the window into the dry, dusty street as a green car drove by, kicking up dirt and making it difficult to see the general store on the other side of the road.
“Y/N,” Jane said, “I can’t imagine how this has been for you. I’m not even waiting for a wedding like you are.”
“More than anything, my biggest fear is what Loki will think if I cannot get this stupid pendant off.”
Jane nodded and started eating her soup. You weren’t hungry. Instead, your gaze fell out the window again, as if he would pop up at any moment.
“If he’s like his brother, he will just be relieved you’re safe and not married to your dad,” answered Jane.
Suddenly, Darcy and Erik bolted in to the diner and made a beeline for your table. Darcy, who couldn’t shut up on a normal day, spilled everything.
“You both need to come with us now. We were working in the lab and then outside some small space craft landed, and some guy in weird robes got out of it with the puffiest, most obnoxious dress I’ve ever seen in my life. Like, who would even wear that? Anyway, someone’s here so we figured we’d get you and—”
“—oh, Norns, it’s Father,” you muttered, ducking under the table. “How did he complete the gown? I made it utterly impossible!”
Jane bent down and tapped your shoulder. “You know what you need to do.”
“I can’t face him,” you said, beginning to cry. “Loki was supposed to find him first. If he hasn’t, then that means Loki must be dead and my father killed him.”
“Maybe his space ship just popped a tire,” Darcy mused.
“You realize this may be the only way he leaves you be,” Erik said. “And he may be the type to hurt people who stand in his way of you.”
“I know,” you sighed. “But he’ll go back to Asgard and tell everyone how I became some hideous mortal and was exiled forever to a desert on Midgard.”
Jane smiled. “You have us now. And there’s still Thor. He can vouch.”
You were silent a moment. Loki was gone. He had to be. You were on the verge of becoming permanently ugly. What more was there to lose? In fact, facing Friede one final time, in a way, would free you, even if it was freeing you from the wonderful life you once knew in favor of a simpler, lonelier one.
“Well, here I go. This is for Loki.”
You crawled out from under the table, and ignored the rude waitress’ scolding for not paying the bill as Jane, Darcy, and Erik followed you out into the street and around the corner.
Sure enough, Friede’s personal ship was parked in the middle of the road, with some mortals running and hiding, and others curiously peeking out at the scene. Friede, for his part, was zig-zagging around, looking in shop windows and crying out for you like a madman with no direction.
“Y/N! Come out come out! I have your wedding gown! I know for a fact you’re here. Please come out and come home with Daddy. If you don’t, I’ll dismantle this entire place board by board until I—”
“—here I am, Father,” you yelled, walking with as much confidence as you could muster.
Friede spent nearly a minute in silence, observing you from the distance of about 50 feet between you. He laughed. “It can’t be. My daughter isn’t a troll.”
The words stung, but only a little. “It is me, Father. I can prove it. My mother was Idunn, and I looked like her. She died over a year ago. You were close with the Allfather since your youth, and Odin’s favorite food were the fruit biscuits Idunn would make for you to take to him, although he’d never admit his weakness for a sweet. You once compared him to a child in an ancient druid’s body.”
Friede’s jaw dropped. “No. Y/N, my girl, what have you done?”
“I am not your daughter,” you said defiantly. “I said I would never marry you. I decided to buy a spell that would permanently change me into this hag,” you indicated your appearance. “I would rather live like this forever in shame than to take part in your abomination of a wedding.”
“But, I made this for you, just as you asked!” Friede hollered, throwing the large gown into the dust at his feet before slowly beginning to advance on you.
“Leave her alone, you bastard.”
Your heart may as well have jumped out of your throat and run off into the horizon by itself. The voice. The beautiful, strong, deep voice of your beloved was calling from behind you.
Instead of turning to embrace Loki, you didn’t even bother looking in his direction as he approached the confrontation, instead running off the street and ducking behind a shelf of books displayed outside the tiny library the town had.
Loki faced Friede, proud, strong, and ready to kill. “I am giving you one final chance. Abandon your disgusting suit and leave Midgard, Asgard, and the Nine Realms. Go live on the Ruby Asteroid for all I care. If you dare to show your face to myself, my betrothed, or any of my allies again, you WILL face the executioner’s axe. Do you understand this?”
Friede looked to the case you were hiding behind, and how you trembled in fear. He looked back to Loki, the powerful Trickster Prince who was known for his superior (as well as unique) fighting style.
“You shouldn’t want Y/N any more anyways,” Loki concluded. “She’s no longer the living spectre of your wife, is she not?”
Friede grunted and looked down at the dress lying before him on the ground. He considered his options for a moment before spitting onto the wedding gown. “Hel take you all,” he muttered. “Especially you, Prince Loki. Enjoy life screwing a hag. You and my disobedient wretch of a child deserve one another.”
You couldn’t quite see what was happening from behind the book case, but after a moment, you heard the sound of a craft take off into the sky and fly away, followed by bootsteps running towards you. You instantly reached for the donkey amulet and ripped it from your neck. However, in the library window’s reflection, you saw something that made your heart sink.
You hadn’t changed at all. You were still a hag.
Loki finally reached the bookcase. You curled up into a ball, concealing as much of yourself by making yourself as small as possible. “Oh, my darling, my beloved,” he whispered softly, reaching out a hand. “You can take the hex off now. You are safe with me again.”
You shook your body and slowly extended your hand, opening your palm and showing him that you were no longer wearing the amulet.
“The hex bound itself to me,” you cried. “I’m a beast now, forever.”
“Oh, no, no, no, Y/N,” Loki insisted. “I don’t care if you look like a dark elf with a skin infection. I love you, and you are beautiful.”
“I am NOT worthy of being your princess, so just go,” you wept.
Loki stifled a laugh. “I just saw you face your father and tell him to fuck off. It was, admittedly, very hot.”
You peeked out from behind your hands. “Really?”
“Please,” Loki implored. “Come into the light with me.”
You looked up and saw for the first time that Loki was wearing his natural Jotunn skin. He was smiling encouragingly down at you, hand still extended.
You gasped. “Loki, you never look like that in public!”
“I’ve learned a bit about myself too along this strange trip,” Loki replied. “I feel freer when I can be my full self. I may never go back, unless, that is, you wish for me too.”
“Dearest, how can you look at me and still—”
Loki had had enough. He took you hand and yanked you to your feet and into the sunny street before you could stop him. He took you into his arms and kissed you so fully that you felt as if he wanted to drink your essence.
“I absolutely want to still be your wife,” you said quietly, burying your face in Loki’s chest. “But I can never face Asgardian society like this. Not ever.”
Loki sighed and looked beyond you to wear the wedding gown still lay in the dust. He got an idea and let go of you momentarily to retrieve it and bring it back to you.
“Maybe this can help,” he suggested.
You shook your head. “The incest dress? How?”
“Well, technically it’s what YOU wanted in a dress. Your maddened former father simply delivered it to you.”
“But how can it help?” you asked.
“Did you not ask for it to me made out of cloth spun from Arachne’s web?” Loki reminded you. You nodded. “Doesn’t her material come with magic-catching ability? It’s why our armor carries some of her threads, to protect warriors from hexes and curses. Like trapping flies in a spider’s web, her cloth does the same for dark magic.”
“Oh Norns, you are right,” you realized. You greedily grabbed the dress and ducked back behind the bookcase to put it on.
It was heavier than you realized, but it fit like a glove and gave you a small, magic burst of confidence. When you cautiously revealed yourself in the dress, the look on Loki’s face made you tremble.
He looked ready to fall at your feet and serve you everything you ever wanted on a silver platter.
“My bride, you look incredible.”
You lifted your arms and slowly began to spin, your wide skirt billowing out, red sparks of magic flying out from the stones embedded in the bodice. You felt that cool sensation you recalled from the night Thor rescued you, when you first removed the amulet and fell back into your Asgardian beauty.
You stopped spinning and looked at Loki, Jane, Erik, and Darcy, who were all now staring at you, making you feel a little vulnerable.
You turned back to the window to observe what had changed, and your heart sank again.
Your body had returned to its’ normal, curvier shape. Your unnatural pallor melted back into your natural skin tone. The bags under your eyes had disappeared, but those eyes were still oddly bright and differently colored. Your nose had returned, but it was still a small nub of what had once been one of your favorite features. Your hair was longer and fuller, but still the dull color you’d gotten used to seeing of late. You had a bright, dark red scar remain on your face, running from your left eye, down the side of your neck.
“It only worked a little!” you cried, frustrated. “I’m still not beautiful!”
Loki ran up behind you and wrapped his arms over your shoulders, nuzzling his nose under your ear.
“But aren’t you the one that said to me that your skin doesn’t define your beauty? You are still my Y/N, my wife, my love, my God. Freyja still could not compare.” Loki spun you around and delicately traced the scar on your face with a loving touch. “And I am taking you back to Asgard to wed you this instant, and to proudly show you off to every noble in the Nine Realms.”
You took Loki’s face into your hands and drew him into another kiss. His blue lips tasted better than the sweetest ambrosia, and in that instant, you knew nothing would ever come between you again.
Jane, Darcy, and Erik watched in awed silence as you and Loki went off into the sunset, hand-in-hand, chasing down your Happily Ever After to the farthest star.
210 notes · View notes
pigs-in-art · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Illustration from Peau d'Âne by Sibylle Delacroix
6 notes · View notes
Text
My tag for this series is 'fairy tales'.
47 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
My Folktale Week 2022 collection. Rumpelstiltskin, The Juniper Tree, Stardust, Bluebeard, Donkeyskin, The Little Mermaid and Cinderella.
Scott Keenan, 2023
21 notes · View notes
moonmaidenmagic · 11 months
Photo
Tumblr media
21 notes · View notes
traumendesmadchen · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
Chronotopia Update - Build 1.05
Hello everyone, we hope you’ve been enjoying Chronotopia’s story so far! Ever since release, we’ve been gradually fixing issues so we advise updating your version of the game. Here’s a summary:
One reviewer noted a lack of content warnings despite the game’s heavy subject matters. Since this is an oversight on our part, we added a warning with this update. Upon launching the game for the first time, the warning will stay on-screen until the player takes action to ensure it will be less likely to be accidentally skipped. A detailed list is also available on this page (be aware that it contains spoilers for the full game).
Tumblr media
One player reported to us that the Archivist achievement would not trigger, preventing 100% completion. We applied a solution that had an unexpected side effect. Some players would randomly unlock the achievement without even completing the Archives or opening said menu. So we hurried to find another solution. The issue should be solved now.
Tumblr media
After a player pointed out to us that there was no room for mistake to trigger the Fleur’s Goodwill achievement, we’ve decided to lower the requirements by one point.
We fixed some typos that have been reported to us or that we noticed during Youtube/Twitch playthroughs.
We changed the names of several backers in the credits, as per their request.
Tumblr media
We also fixed a couple of minor bugs:
The farm minigame would sometimes not be skipped on a second playthrough (exposing why it was restricted in the first place).
If the player skipped dialogues fast enough, unnamed music tracks would appear in the "Currently Playing" pop-up, crashing the game.
In one scene of the demo, Kionna’s sprite would appear on top of Nahima’s instead of the wanted position.
In some cases, only one variation of the Dead End  would trigger (the one appearing in the Buried Alive scene), creating confusion as to Nahima’s fate.
Thank you again for the lovely Steam reviews and the support ❤️. We would almost be hitting 10 reviews by now if press keys/developer keys counted but, unfortunately, they don’t. Steam rules are impenetrable sometimes.
That being said, don’t hesitate to report bugs & typos directly to us so we can fix those in the next updates!
12 notes · View notes
denastudio · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
Peau d'Âne (1970) dir. Jacques Demy
49 notes · View notes
adarkrainbow · 2 months
Text
Given @princesssarisa has been sharing thoughts and infos about the French variations of Cinderella I just wish to add a little info which might be of interest for those into Cinderella stuff.
I have spoken before of what the Delarue-Tenèze is, but if you missed the post, here is a freshener. Delarue-Tenèze is the French equivalent of the European Aarne-Thompson (or ATU if you expand it a bit more). "Delarue-Tenèze" is the shortened form of the name of the two authors of this work (Paul Delarue and Marie-Louise Tenèze), who created "Le Conte populaire français, Catalogue raisonné des versions de France et des pays de langue française d'outre-mer" (The French folk-tale, Reasoned catalogue of the variants of France and of French-speaking countries beyond-sea). The Delarue-Tenèze is the complete typification, classification and catalogue of French folktales and oral fairytales, a "local ATU" if you wish. It does take into account the most famous literary variations of some fairytales (such as Perrault and d'Aulnoy's texts) but only in regard of how their massive popularity caused them to influence and "return" to the domain of orality and folklore (such as how Perrault invented the "red" in Little Red Riding Hood, and the "boots" in Puss in Boots, and as such in the centuries following his publication these elements became part of the oral-told folktales).
And when it comes to Cinderella, the Delarue-Tenèze highlights how in the French folktale tradition the Cinderella-type is not at all a type in itself, but rather one sub-type of a larger fairytale story.
This was already higlighted by the ATU itself, which classified them as the two sides of the "Persecuted Heroine" fairytale type (510A and 510B), but "Cinderella" and "Donkeyskin" in oral fairytales are closely related, frequently overlaping, and regularly confused, and even more so in French oral tales - it needed a Perrault's intervention to cut clear those two types of fairytales.
But here is where the Delarue-Tenèze takes a further step as opposed to the ATU: the Delarue-Tenèze adds a third variation to this "Persecuted Heroine" type, one that the ATU had classified as its own type (511), "One-Eye, Two-Eyes, and Three-Eyes". While for the ATU this fairytale type is close enough to Donkeyskin/Cinderella to be right next to them in the list, but different enough to be its own thing, for the Delarue-Tenèze "One-Eye, Two-Eyes, Three-Eyes" should be, in the context of French folktales, the "510C", due to being much too close and much too linked to the previous two types to be separate.
This is notably why the Delarue-Tenèze, which usually has an "analysis" segment for each fairytale type, decided to do one single analysis for all these three "categories", insisting upon how the intricate relationship and confused similarities between the three make it impossible to clearly set them apart in the oral tradition. As such, in the folklore of France, "Cinderella", "Donkey-skin" and "One Eye, Two Eyes, Three Eyes", are just one and the same. (As opposed to the literary tradition where Cinderella and Donkeyskin are clearly separate, and One Eye Two Eye Three Eyes is unknown)
17 notes · View notes