ribbons of moonlight

2

I REMEMBER YOU.

Even from the distance, he knew she was staring right at him, her hair streaming to the side like a ribbon of moonlight, caught in the river breeze. Dorian lifted a hand, the other rising to his neck. No collar. […] No one sounded the alarm. As if the world had stopped paying attention for the few moments they’d looked at each other. And through the darkness of his memories, through the pain and despair and terror he’d tried to forget, a name echoed in his head.

M A N O N   B L A C K B E A K   X   D O R I A N   H A V I L L I A R D

Modern Aesthetic

There was a massive shadow perched atop it. Dorian froze.
Not a shadow but a giant beast, its claws gripping the wall, its wings tucked into its body, shimmering faintly in the glow of the full moon. Shimmering like the white hair of the rider atop it.
Even from the distance, he knew she was staring right at him, her hair streaming to the side like a ribbon of moonlight, caught in the river breeze.
Dorian lifted a hand, the other rising to his neck. No collar. 

The moment I started shipping Dorian/Manon:

    Dorian padded onto his balcony, needing to feel the river breeze on his face, to know that this was real and he was free.
    He opened the balcony doors, the stones cool on his feet, and gazed out across the razed grounds. He’d done that. He loosed a breath, taking in the glass wall as it sparkled in the moonlight.
    There was a massive shadow perched atop it. Dorian froze.
    Not a shadow, but a giant beast, it’s claws gripping the wall, its wings tucked into its body, shimmering faintly in the glow of the full moon. Shimmering like the white hair of the rider atop it.
    Even from the distance, he knew she was staring right at him, her hair streaming to the side like a ribbon of moonlight, caught in the river breeze. 
    Dorian lifted a hand, the other rising to his neck. No collar.
    The rider on the wyvern leaned down in her saddle, saying something to her beast. It spread its massive, glimmering wings and leaped into the air. Each beat of its wings sent a hollowed-out, booming gust of wind toward him.
    It flapped higher, her hair streaming behind her like a glittering banner, until they vanished into the night, and he couldn’t hear its wings beating anymore. No one sounded the alarm. As if the world had stopped paying attention for the few moments they’d looked at each other.
    And through the darkness of his memories, through the pain and despair and terror he’d tried to forget, a name echoed in his head.

I just love how Manon had to come and see if Aelin had been able to save him. 

anonymous asked:

"The wind is a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees. / The moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas. / The road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor, / And the highwayman comes riding— / Riding—riding— / The highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn door."

I GOT THE HIGHWAYMAN IN MY INBOX. WHAT A TIME TO BE ALIVE.

Also, friendly reminder to all of you: look at the moon.