#TDITW

[serdaig1e]

We can all agree that this is what happened, right?

Sylvi: So what's your favorite color?

Alexander Morozova, the Darkling, the Shadow Summoner, the Black Heretic, creator of the Fold:

...

...

... Rainbow

[4lienat]

“Get a look into the past that forged a brutal and brilliant leader.”

WOW just finished reading Demon in the Wood, and my only complaint is that it’s so short!! I checked it out as an ebook and it said there was like a hundred pages; turns out more than half of that was because it includes a sample of Six of Crows… which ok but I was sitting there like this can’t be the end of the book! idk why I thought this was a legit Darkling prequel not just a short story 🥲

Would have loved to have some time skips to read about additional key events that lead up to who he becomes when he makes the fold.. or even events leading up to him serving royalty and/or right before the events of Shadow and Bone.

*sigh* I’m such a sucker for villains with tragic backstories (and Leigh Bardugo’s writing) LOL

edit: apparently there’s a graphic novel version that came out which expands on the story??? brb adding to my read list rn

[flowersandcitrus]

Quotes from my story

“I’m not so sure why my paranoia kicks in now, for I know that the monsters on earth take to the cities, I, of all people should know; for one has taken me as their spouse before.”  - Chapter One

“‘No - I would rather bear the wrath of these wilds than be with that irascible man a second longer. Although I had wished I had time to say goodbye to him, the one person in that wretched city, I could have trusted.’” - Chapter One of TDITW

“Oh how much I've hated the silence - when the only thing left to occupy your mind is your own twisted thoughts. Oh how wrong they were, those thoughts, but not much could ever block them.” - Chapter One of TDITW

“Like an abandoned dog, I await eagerly at the door, a glint in my eyes as I perk up at each and every noise that comes from outside the tarnished door, as I patiently await his return.” - Chapter One of TDITW

“I’m always the object of people’s sympathy, and I wish it wasn’t as such, a broken person with nothing left for them, I hate the offerings and favors people give me. This guilt is the trickiest pill to swallow above all else.” - Chapter Two of TDITW

“It's a shame we had to fear those set in a place of power to protect us.” -Chapter Five of TDITW

“ Were we just cat and mouse, a predator and its prey?” -Chapter Seven of TDITW

“Everything had layers, time itself, including that wretched man. He carried more layers than you could count by the rings in a tree's trunk.” -Chapter Eight of TDITW

“That's what he made me. Curious to feel what it meant to truly be loved. To be loved is like birdsong. Whenever you get close enough, the singing will abruptly stop and the birds will take flight. But what happens if the singing continues even after I get close? What would happen if he was really in love?” -Chapter Eight of TDITW

“You know what they do to boys like us.” -Chapter Eight of TDITW

“Is it really so hard to believe that your son dawns a love for another man?” -Chapter Eight of TDITW

“My time will come soon enough, less years to serve in prison.” -Chapter Eight of TDITW

“What does the bible or sins have to do with who another man or woman (or someone somewhere in between) loves? Why can only straight people love who they want, why can’t I? And damn the consequences for my actions.” -Chapter Eight of TDITW

“Tragically beautiful was he, the man in front of me as he tells me of his beginnings.” -Chapter Eight of TDITW

 “I think you’ve made what you could have given that the law is discriminatory towards people like us.” -Chapter Eight of TDITW

“The sun was rich in the sky against a vibrant mess of blues and orange hues in the midday sky but something darkened the world's hold on the lonely pair.” -Chapter Eight of TDITW

“For most of my life, I was treated like some piece of meat, something to be discarded after it no longer suits your needs or after it has sated your appetite.” -Chapter Eight of TDITW

“Perhaps it's a trick of the light, but as he reaches for my hand, he looks almost desperate, like this was his last chance to say it; like it was now or never.”  -Chapter Eight of TDITW

[stromuprisahat]

Both show and book Darkling is good, but I think I like the book version a bit more because he's more complicated. What you said is true about the book version. He doesn't want to love Alina, but he ends up catching feelings for her anyway. In book 3, I think his feelings for her become borderline obesession and a twisted version of love. Baghra told him in TDITW that she would destroy a hundred villages if it meant keeping him safe. That's her version of "I love you." I honestly think Sasha is confused by these feelings and just doesn't know how to respond to them

note: Ask was sent before season two came out. (probably the post refered to)

His mother's influence certainly played a part. Another would be his age, all that he's been through and lack of other lasting emotional attachments. His love never had a chance to manifest in some pure, innocent way.

Baghra raised him to have ties to no one but her. While preparing him to survive in any way she could think of, she ironically denied him one of the basic human propensities- he wasn't allowed to naturally socialize. All interaction with "outsiders" were about caution, sizing up and possible gain or loss. He was taught to expect a transaction. Not even his mother's love was unconditional, and I have a feeling he might consider the concept a foolishness.

When you look at the outline of his past, he learnt he'll lose everyone he might grow attached to, and not necessarily to old age. How many times did he have to watch his loved ones murdered, killed by accident or illness, grow distant or outright betray him? No wonder he clings to his mother even once he's aware she's bad for him. No wonder he sort of wants Alina only to himself. Why would she try to abandon him, if he were the only thing she has? He, himself knows the alternative would be being alone and Alina doesn't really want that any more than he does.

Her immortality ensures the likelihood of loosing her to death is as little as it can be, so he's free to deal with other, less violent "risks".

I'm gonna admit I'd be much more sympathetic to Alina's situation, were he not right about harmfulness of her relationship with Malyen and her clinging to her past in general. I'd also say his aversion to Nikolai isn't only about jealousy. That can of worms is deeper than simple "He proposed to my girl!".

[xalonelydreamerx]

I agree with this.

While Baghra is a terrible mother and we all know it, in the books she does have her own tragedy; her backstory doesn't redeem her or justify her shitty behavior but it does give some sort of understanding of how her dysfunctional relationship with her son came to be.

A lot of people ignore the Demon in the Woods which is quite terrible because that book short as it may be, does provide info that completely connect the Baghra and the Darkling we come to know from the trilogy.

in tditw, we definitely get the sense that Baghra loves her son. Does she do it in a selfish narcissistic way? Sure, but whether it's heathly or not doesn't matter, because she loves him the way only she herself can love.

She comes of as the "I'll burn the whole wold for you" type, and if you think about it, lots of her actions in the trilogy indicate she had some yearning for her past life - when she and Aleksander only had each other. Her last words are tragic and I think we can interpretate them in multiple ways but case point is... show Baghra is nothing like that.

in the (my opinion badly written flashback) fold creation past!Baghra and present!Baghra are the exact same person. There's no difference between the two. She complains, she judges, and acts indifferently to her son's suffering.

Same goes for s2, there isn't an actual moment where the viewer can even toy with the idea that Baghra might have loved him at any moment in her life. She comes of as someone who has hated his whole being, and falls into he stereotypical role of "mother of the monster". Y'know, the one who cannot prevent her evil child but will be some cheerleader/mascot for the protagonist who wants to kill her offspring.

And the biggest clownery of all, is how her own backstory is presented as a monologue that I guarantee no casual viewer actually gave a fuck about, because

a) it was new info that came out in 5 minutes

b) it was just dialogue, adding to the show problem of constantly telling instead of showing

in the end, show Baghra is just another anti darkling mouthpiece, and serves to remind the fans how bad her son is

(And before anyone come at me, while she did have similar problems in the books, as I mentioned above the execution was presented better and her characterization is more differently than just the surface)

So I have thoughts about Baghra. And the way she is brought onto the screen (Zoe Wanamaker does a great job but I have some questions regarding her character and storytelling)

In the books, Baghra seems to have fought teeth and nails to have Aleksander. She tried again and again and again to have a child like herself until she succeeded (and yes she was not necessarily a good mother, especially to her other kids). And after she had him she did a lot to keep him alive. Her last words to Aleksander are tragic. She has loved him, but somewhere on the way something broke between them (and are we ever told what?).

But show Baghra? She seems so intent to obliterate the Morozova line, I somehow feel like a kid (or maybe even more) was more an accident to her and not intentional? Why did she have a child like herself when she wants the Morozova line to die out anyways?

(Also @fairy-anon-godmother once again me thinking about Baghra)

[darklesmylove]

my favorite panels from the demon in the wood graphic novel:

1. baby aleksander being afraid of the dark when he’s a shadow summoner will never not make me cry

2. baghra is a literal hot queen and this is one of my favorite grishaverse quotes

3. the cute lil joy on his face when he’s summoning is my new favorite thing

4. i couldnt not include this because look at him

5. aleksander’s favorite color being sunlight is the purest thing and i always wish he had told alina that rip

6. crying part 1

7. crying part 2

8. this page is so gorgeous and heart wrenching at the same time

9. like calls to motherfucking like is such a good quote also and i’ll never get over it

10. showstopping amazing never been done before what a beautiful last page and just gorgeously done

[xalonelydreamerx]

preview of the Demon in the Woods

[the-starless-one]

Remember how young Aleksander stayed awake for 2 nights because his mom took the only lamp they had and he was just SO SO SCARED of the darkness.

Yeah 😭💔

[darkolaism]

do i love benjamin with my whole chest? YES. he's the reason i got into this ugly fandom in the first place. do i physically, mentally and all of -ally need asian aleksander and morozovas? DOUBLE YES. my boy is shu. you all need to accept that.

[the-starless-one]

We would be RAVKANS, not just Grisha.

“My son was not… He began so well. We moved from place to place, we saw the way our people lived, the way they were mistrusted, the lives they were forced to eke out in secrecy and fear. He vowed that we would someday have a safe place, that Grisha power would be something to be valued and coveted, something our country would treasure. We would be Ravkans, not just Grisha. That dream was the seed of the Second Army…”

— Ruin & Rising by Leigh Bardugo

[lifeintheshadows]

Just read TDitW and wow! Damn!

Shit!

Feeling too much right now.

[wildflowersreactions]

I'm trying to continue responding to notes so I can jump into TDITW, but after finding out the Darkling is somehow alive I'm just like-

I might need a minute y'all...

[flowersandcitrus]

Chapter One (Part One of Two): The Turning Of New Leaves

As every life ends, a new one begins an endless cycle that will continue even after we all die.

-

The sun begins to rise on the vast, dry horizon, casting the valley in shades of umber. The plants crumble underfoot the large mare. The rider continues wearily, rubbing the sleep from their eyes. They come to a stop under an old tree, with carvings all over its bark, each of which shares its own story, not unlike the many travelers who have passed it. Its limbs sprawled high into the sky providing shade for the two of them.

-

I can hear my heart still pounding in my ears from when I left. My whole body seems to cave in from fatigue, but I can't rest now. My gaze drags to where my shoes rest inside the stirrup, scanning the dirt stains on the light evening gown I wear. I brush the disheveled and sweat-drenched strands of hair back into the now-messy bun and wipe my hands off on the gown fabric.

-

They were riding for far more than an hour when they slow down at the crossroads, the rider leaning forward to observe the wooden signpost there with a poorly engraved title, "OATSTEAD".

-

It was the name of a small town, and possibly the means to an end, the means to settle down and start a new life here, if they had wanted to live here – in the calm countryside, far enough from their poor city life – leaning solely on the support of a man. They had not wanted that for themselves ever again. They had hoped the saying wasn't true and that history wouldn't repeat itself yet again. Although perhaps it would and only whatever ethereal being above or below could tell the fate of this person.

-

In this part of the forest, the trees are denser, the canopy obscuring most light from the heavens above. Every two paces brought upon another thin trunk, reaching high overhead almost like a bony hand reaching out of the depths of the earth and writhing against the morning breeze. Finally, patches of sunshine seep through the canopy of leaves, scarcely providing a source of light. No matter, it was there.

-

Miniscule versions of glades brought into sight homey cottages fairly spread out on their descent through the woods.

-

My heart thuds faster like the hooves battering the ground the further we ride through the forest, an aching throb that leaves me on the edge of dismay. I'm not so sure why my paranoia kicks in now, for I know that the monsters on earth take to the cities, I, of all people should know; for one has taken me as their spouse before.

-

A cacophony of howls, erupting within the forest, distorted and echoed rang out in the near distance. The massive mare rears onto its hind legs, storming off the weathered dirt path, as its hooves pound against the dirt, it stirs up the brush of leaves underfoot, leaving me gasping and fighting to stay in the saddle.

-

A barrage of branches whips past the rider, tearing and tattering their draping gown. The fragile silk of which their evening gown is composed of splits like the petal of a flower. The bristled fur meets the smooth hands of the rider as they attempt to soothe their unruly mount. Their short trembling fingers glide over the mare's side. They hadn't expected much from their effort, as they were panicking as well, but soon the horse calmed and they made their way back to the dirt path.

-

A sigh escapes my lips, my thoughts racing wildly. I brush my wind-blown hair back into the mess of a bun with one hand, the other in control of the reins, keeping the mare steady.

-

'Was It wrong of me to have left?' The thought abruptly crosses my mind. 'No – I would rather bear the wrath of these wilds than be with that irascible man a second longer. Although I had wished I had time to say goodbye to him, the one person in that wretched city, I could have trusted.'

-

Shaking my head, I clutch the reins, begging myself to focus. I peer ahead, expecting the trail to whip down another way, but instead, I'm met by the blinding light of a clearing.

-

Adrenaline soars through their veins, and all of the hours they've spent without a wink of sleep will soon be worth it. The shallow stream they cross laps at the steed's slender, aching legs, like a cold breeze on the hottest day of summer. A town lurking in the fertile plain below blooming with vegetation acts as a breath of fresh air for the rider, and their heart seems to swell with hope.

-

OATSTEAD

-

As they reach the town, the buildings seep into their mind, sickly sweet. The lightly painted wood mixed with the dull color of the red-hued brick houses slowly passes by as they take in the town.

-

As the wind picks up, it softly tosses their torn skirt around, along with several worn papers with bold lettering: 'WANTED'. The rider slinks down in the saddle, and slows to a stop at a hitching post in front of an old corner store, their windows stocked with candies and fresh produce. Kicking one foot out of the stirrups, the rider shifts to dismount their mare.

-

As my feet touch the ground, a crunch sounds out underfoot. I lift my gown, revealing a stained yellow-tinted paper underneath my loosely laced shoes. Instinctively, I reach for the paper kneeling to pick it off the pebbled road. It's then that I realize the icy hold of silence that lingers throughout the streets.

-

Silence.

-

Oh how much I've hated the silence – when the only thing left to occupy your mind is your own twisted thoughts. Oh how wrong they were, those thoughts, but not much could ever block them.

-

My heart sinks, dread sending chills down my fingertips, hastily flip it over to reveal the familiar sight of a Wanted poster.

-

Inked onto the sheet in bold writing reads, "Wanted Dead or Alive" below, "Reward $5,000 Known alias; Raven". In the center of the sheet lies a sketch that depicts an older man, presumably in his forties. His face is thin and defined. His uneven hair delicately curled against his forehead with a goatee as well.

-

As an attempt to drill his image into my mind, I study his features to know who to stay away from, although the sketch may not be as accurate. He was, unfortunately, attractive, nevertheless, I shall approach this man with caution. Regardless of his past crimes, he may be safer to be around than my ex-lover had been with me.

-

No, that's a ridiculous thought, for such a high bounty, he must be dangerous.

-

Soon I become lost in my train of thought.

-

My teeth sink into my bottom lip in frustration as I walk the streets – empty save for a couple of drunken stragglers wandering home from their nights full of mistakes - to the saloon. Gods damn it all, he can be such an idiot sometimes, going into town just for some booze.

-

Of course, I came with him too, it's fitting as I was the first one to work under him. As I raise my head from the cobbled street, I notice a person wearing a tattered gown standing beside a large steed. They look as if they're in a daze, their eyes saddened, glistening in the sunlight. 'Another sheep entering the wolf's den.' I think, 'I don't have time for this, but perhaps this sheep can be trained to run with the wolves, rather than to fear them.'

-

My head feels foggy, and my thoughts come out messy and uneven, whether from fatigue or dehydration, I have yet to figure out, but I know where they're headed. I can vividly depict the ochre color in my mind, its orangish-brown hue, and how I'll never be able to count the times I've drowned myself in the bitter, acidic edge of the drink. I never remember how the night ends when I get like this. Perhaps I'm too scared to know; to know why I wake up with bruises that I don't remember having, in nothing but my undergarments, scared and alone in a room that resembles nothing like my own, flowing with the overly intoxicating scent of booze.

-

I can recall a time when I had stayed up hours after sundown with my mother, to surprise our father when he had come home from working his shifts down at the station, and so he came home, drunk out of his mind.

-

Like an abandoned dog, I await eagerly at the door, a glint in my eyes as I perk up at each and every noise that comes from outside the tarnished door, as I patiently await his return.

-

It was around this time of year, a few decades ago. My father had planned something special for my birthday.

-

Day and night he worked himself nearly to death, earning money for a present. He hadn't told us why he was working overtime, but we knew. Since my brother had been of working age, he had come home nearly hours ago and passed out on his cot.

-

"I was turning eight this year," I thought, my teeth lightly sinking into my bottom lip, "next year I can become useful".

-

My fingers begin to feel numb and tingly in the cold night air coming in from the drafty windows. Instinctively, as if sensing my body turning numb, mother swaddles me in an old torn quilt.

-

"Come 'ere hon', you'll catch a cold at this rate." She says, a sad smile lingering on her face as she sits me down on a weathered chair, although the original color may have been green, it's merely a ghost of what it once was.

-

"Hello." I hear a soft voice trill, slicing through the fog in my mind. Startled, I yelp, searching this way and that until my eyes meet theirs. Their kind, caramel-colored eyes seek out mine.

-

"Um, Hello...." I croak, as a wave of lightheadedness passes me as if the ground itself was moving beneath us, as I look from the Wanted poster in my hands back to her amiable, welcoming gaze.

-

"Apologies if I have disturbed you, I haven't seen you 'round here. T'was wondering if you need help with anything."

-

Their voice is soft and seemingly sincere, their gaze warm, like pastries fresh out of the baker's oven, they smile sweetly. My heart seems to lurch in my chest, 'They're beautiful' I think, whether out of jealousy or a state of infatuation, the cause remained unclear.

-

As speaking with her grows more comfortable, I take the chance offered and begin to ask, "Actually, is there anywhere to stay for a while, or a job?" My voice is weary from hours without speaking.

-

"Well I'm headed to the saloon now, and they almost always have beds for rent, and folk 'round here would pay good coin for that horse of yours."

-

They gesture to the russet-coated mare, its deep, reddish-brown ears flick at the sound of them speaking and its tail swats at the nearby flies. "I could talk to my boss and have something arranged. All you need is to ask..."

-

The speaker momentarily trails off, cocking their head slightly to the side, as if in wonder. "Er- apologies I realize I haven't properly greeted you." I'm almost surprised when they curtsy, holding their hand across their chest, "Piper, at your service," She coos.

-

The morning sun, peering over the horizon, ripples across her chest and shoulders, causing her stretch marks to shine a beautiful golden color against her warm, cupreous-toned skin akin to the color of rust or copper.

-

A light bronze blush dusts my cheeks at their stunning looks and polite mannerisms, "Beatrice, a pleasure to meet you, madam." I extend my hand to them.

-

"Dear, I assure you, the pleasure is all mine" In an elegant motion, they take my hand in theirs and press their lips to my knuckles.

-

Although it's a common greeting and lasts less than a second, my heart drums, as if intoxicated by their mystifying aura, but if this act does anything, it amplifies the icy numbness that wraps itself around me like a shackle constantly weighing me down.

-

"Now, if you'll excuse me my dearest, my boss is waiting for me at the saloon. If you wish to come with, make haste."

-

I take the reins of the mare and lead her down the road, as I follow the mysterious stranger, Piper, thoughts of the intriguing acquaintance fill my head.

-

The towering, sturdy saloon is surrounded by shrubbery and decorated with delicately crafted flower boxes all blooming with beautiful flowers that are the shades of a sunset. The blue which would normally clash against the oranges, blends in perfectly, and even adds to the warmth of the saloon. At first glance, I would have expected it to be a hotel until a slightly tipsy man stumbles out of the swinging batwing doors. Piper bolts up to him, locking an arm around his waist as he nearly tumbles off the porch side rushing to greet us.

-

The golden light of the sun vanishes behind a thick bundle of cottony, white clouds, shrouding the area in dim light, sending a chill down my spine as the temperature drops slightly. The world around us is cast in shade except for the luminous beams that shoot down from where the sunlight breaks its way through the clouds.

-

Even though they are quite petite and short compared to the two of us, they make up with incredible strength for their size; and although he towers over her, in which she hardly meets his shoulder, let alone my own, she's able to keep him stable with just an arm.

-

He seems to not acknowledge them at all, instead, his soft, silver eyes, glazed over like the frigid, murky, slate-colored waters of home, gaze not at them, but instead, directly at me. Those eyes, barren and aloof seem to devour what's left of my confidence, as they scan every inch of me, I shift, suddenly feeling perturbed as he reads me like a book.

[the-starless-one]

Ok so ultimately he did achieve his goal. The Second Army will always be a safe place, a haven.

“He understood then. The Grisha lived as shadows did, passing over the surface of the world, touching nothing, forced to change their shapes and hide in corners, driven by fear as shadows were driven by the sun. No safe place. No haven. There will be, he promised in the darkness, new words written upon his heart. I will make one.”

— Aleksander Morozova (The Darkling) in The Demon in the Woods

[stromuprisahat]

Would you do a read through & analysis of The Tailor and The Demon in the Woods next? I think that would be amazing since they're really good novellas which is surprising since the grisha trilogy had a lot of problems

Perhaps not immediately. I might keep them for the most boring parts of Siege and Storm to renew my will to live. (Thanks for the idea, btw.)

For now, I have tags for both- mostly reblogs plus some notes of mine- and three posts about TDitW- x, x, x.

[darklesmylove]

MAY OR MAY NOT BE SCREAMING ITS HAPPENING PEOPLE 😭😭