#pulvis et umbra sumus = we are but dust and shadows

[rolloollor]

The sixth chapter of my mallerollo vampire AU is out!

I really love this piece from Haixin!! The post, his face... And we get to see more of Rollo than normal~

In this chapter, Malleus returns to the Village of Lilies. Rollo knows how to cure what ails him...

Summary of the fic:

On a trip to an abandoned village, Malleus Draconia encounters more than simple ruins. A living relic, once called Father Rollo Flamme, lies in wait in the bowels of a decaying church...

[windydrawallday]

L E V E L S

Experimental artwork for my OC [Pokash] circa 2018, I still like it a lot!

[writing-reference-redux]

I felt like sharing my collection of Latin phrases that may make good fanfic or fanart titles or inspiration. Some of the translations may be off, so you might want to double-check them before use. Also, I used capitalization liberally so you might also want to check where capitalization is actually indicated.

Ab Intra (From Within)

Acta Est Fabula (The play has been performed)

Acta Sancti ___ (The Deeds of Saint ___)

Ad Undas (to the waves / to hell)

Advocatus Diaboli (Devil's advocate)

Aegri Somnia (a sick man's dreams / troubled dreams)

Alea Iacta Est (the die has been cast / point of no return)

Apologia Pro Vita Sua (defense of one's life)

Caetera Desunt (the rest is missing)

Cedere Nescio (I know not how to yield)

Damnatio Memoriae (damnation of memory / denying someone ever lived)

De Nobis Fabula Narratur (their story is our story)

Decessit Vita Patris (died before their father)

Diem Perdidi (I have lost the day)

Dies Tenebrosa Sicut Nox (a day as dark as night)

Dolor Hic Tibi Proderit Olim (some day this pain will be useful to you)

Dulce Est Desipere In Loco (It is sweet on occasion to play the fool)

Dum Vivimus, Vivamus (while we live, let us live)

Dux Bellorum (war leader)

Ex Umbra In Solem (from the shadow into the light)

Festina Lente (hurry slowly)

Fortis Cadere, Cedere Non Potest (the brave may fall, but can not yield)

Fui Quod Es, Eris Quod Sum (I once was what you are, you will be what I am)

Graviora Manent (heavier things remain / the worst is yet to come)

Haec Olim Meminisse Iuvabit (one day, this will be pleasing to remember)

Hic Mortui Vivunt (here the dead speak)

Hinc Illae Lacrimae (hence those tears)

Hodie Mihi, Cras Tibi (Today it's me, tomorrow it will be you - of death)

In Ictu Oculi (in the blink of an eye)

In Somnis Veritas (in dreams there is truth)

Inter Spem Et Metum (between hope and fear)

Lapsus Memoriae (slip of memory)

Luctor, Non Mergor (I struggle, but am not overwhelmed)

Lux Ex Tenebris (light from darkness)

Media Vita In Morte Sumus (In the midst of our lives we die)

Memento Mori (remember that you will die)

Memento Vivere (remember to live)

Morior Invictus (I die unvanquished / death before defeat)

Mundus Senescit (the world grows old)

Nemini Parco (I spare no one - death)

Nitimur In Vetitum (we strive for the forbidden)

Non Ducor, Duco (I am not led; I lead)

Non Omnis Moriar (I shall not all die / part of me will survive beyond death)

Nunc Scio Quid Sit Amor (now I know what love is)

Oderint Dum Metuant (let them hate, so long as they fear)

Omnia Mutantur (everything changes)

Onus Probandi (burden of proof)

Opera Posthuma (posthumous works)

Ophidia In Herba (a snake in the grass)

Pax Aeterna (eternal peace - a common epitaph)

Primum Non Nocere (first do no harm)

Pulvis Et Umbra Sumus (we are dust and shadow)

Quis Leget Haec? (who will read this?)

Quod Periit, Periit (what Is gone is gone)

Res, Non Verba (deeds, not words)

Respice Finem (consider the end)

Scientia Et Sapientia (knowledge and wisdom)

Seculo Seculorum (forever and ever)

Sed Terrae Graviora Manent (but on earth, worse things await)

Si Vis Pacem Para Bellum (if you want peace, prepare for war)

Sic Infit (so it begins)

Sic Vita Est (such is life)

Silentium Est Aureum (silence is golden)

Sine Nomine (without a name / author unknown)

Sola Dosis Facit Venemum (the dose makes the poison)

Solvitur Ambulando (it is solved by walking / simple tests find solutions)

Stamus Contra Malum (we stand against evil)

Succisa Virescit (cut down, we grow back stronger)

Sum Quod Eris (I am what you will be - of death)

Summum Bonum (the supreme good)

Summum Malum (the supreme evil)

Sunt Lacrimae Rerum (there are tears for things)

Sunt Omnes Unum (they are all one)

Tabula Rasa (blank slate)

Transire Benefaciendo (to travel along while doing good)

Tu Fui Ego Eris (I was you; you will be me - of death)

Ubi Amor, Ibi Dolor (where there is love, there is pain)

Ultima Forsan (perhaps the last / sundial quote "perhaps your last hour")

Usque Ad Finem (until the end / fight to the death)

Vacate Et Scire (Be still and know)

Vi Et Animo (with heart and soul)

Victoria Aut Mors (victory or death)

Vincit Qui Patitur (he conquers who endures)

Vita Ante Acta (a life done before - of reincarnation)

Vivere Militare Est (to live is to fight)

Vox Clamantis In Deserto (the voice of one crying in the wilderness)

There are also some longer ones that may not make good titles because of their length, but are still worth inclusion:

Aut Simul Stabunt Aut Simul Cadent (they will either stand together or fall together)

Flectere Si Nequeo Superos, Acheronta Movebo (if I can not reach Heaven I will raise Hell)

Forsan Et Haec Olim Meminisse Iuvabit (perhaps even these things will be good to remember one day)

Igitur Qui Desiderat Pacem, Praeparet Bellum (therefore whoever desires peace, let him prepare for war)

In Regione Caecorum Rex Est Luscus (in the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king)

Minus Malum Toleratur Ut Maius Tollat (choose the lesser evil so a greater evil may be averted)

Quem Deus Vult Perdere, Dementat Prius (whom the gods would destroy, they first make mad)

Ubi Sunt, Qui Ante Nos Fuerunt? (Where are they, those who have gone before us?)

Virtus Junxit Mors Non Separabit (that which virtue unites, let not death separate)

[theaestheticsromance]

“Pulvis et umbra sumus. (We are but dust and shadow.)”

Art done by @az-roser

[theorphicangel]

𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 (𝐛𝐮𝐭) 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭 | Levi Ackerman.

pulvis et umbra sumus - we are (but) dust and shadow

Summary: Wandering aimlessly at night, Levi stumbles upon a bar. Finding it to be closed, a woman sits inside with nothing but a cup of tea to offer. In exchange for it, Levi is forced to relive his past.

Whether he likes it or not.

cw/tw; death, death of a parent, loss, grief, childhood trauma , childhood memories, manipulation, mind manipulation, levi coping with death of his mother, modern au!, in Paris?, cigarettes, smoking, gaslighting, levi blames himself, based on the tea scene in ‘get out’, emotional manipulation, angst,

If I’ve missed anything please let me know!

A/N: this is very different from what I write, not an x reader, but a series I’ve started based on just Levi and coping with grief.

word count: 3k

The smell of cigarettes linger in the apartment. Heavy clouds of smoke reach the ceiling, covered in a patchy coat of beige paint that’s beginning to peel.

It’s a terrible habit that he told himself to quit months ago but as they say, bad habits are the hardest to die from.

The smoke alarm’s a dud. He removed the batteries a couple days ago. Reckless, but it’s a risk that he’s willing to take. He’s not planning to stay in this city for long.

Lungs relaxing, smoke forcefully escapes from his lips, the distinct kick of nicotine dead to his taste buds. It does nothing to him now. Stubbing it in the ashtray, it joins the unfinished pair he smoked earlier.

The old and used legs of his wooden chair screech in a low manner, awkwardly scraping against the hardware floor. Levi grabs his black suit jacket from the back of a chair sat opposite him, no longer in its freshly ironed state but wrinkled.

Grabbing his keys off the counter, he slips through the front door without a second thought.

A loud slam vibrates through the walls, reaching above and beyond the halls, the noise bouncing off the concrete walls of the apartment building. His footsteps echo loudly, a dull melody in his descent; the only soul awake in the whole vicinity.

He doesn’t know where he’s going but his brisk pace wouldn’t offer that sort of perspective. Once again the sound of his footsteps powerfully echo between the concrete buildings, the soles of his feet rushing over the cobbled pavements.

The gates leading to the metro station are now closed as well as all of the shops on the sideline. Passing by glazed windows of dark and empty shops, his reflection is barely visible, the image of his figure flows at a quick pace before disappearing into the night.

Inside, his body remains unsatisfied. An ache stirs in his lower gut; a hunger, a deep longing for something. Anything.

Levi’s now looking for a bar and during his search he comes to realize that he’s not the only one wandering wordlessly on the banks of Paris late at night.

Streetlights flicker above him, some brighter than others, some newly fixed and some which are never promised to come alive again. Continuing on, he follows the stream of lights on a path that will eventually take him to the main street, where hopefully, there’s some sort of salvage waiting for him there.

/

For a cold November night, this bar is surprisingly warmer than expected.

Hands which seeked a deep refuge in the pockets of his jacket are now easily tempted to come out. As he walks in he notices that there’s nobody currently at the bar, making him realize that it’s closed.

Until Levi becomes startled at the sight of the figure sitting in a chair who had watched him arrive wordlessly. A dark-haired woman sits near the front window, older than him but there’s still a youthful gaze in her eyes. A blue china cup sits on a matching saucer on a little table positioned in front of her.

“The bar’s closed.” She says in french.

Levi makes no response. His first immediate thought is to leave.

“But you can have tea.” She offers. “Is chamomile alright?” Her tone is soft yet decisive, he hadn’t even given her an answer before she stood, making her way through a curtain which led to the back room.

It’s better than nothing, Levi thinks. Again, his footsteps echo on the wooden floorboards, making his way to sit in a crimson red armchair placed in front of her own seat.

Her tea sits in a blue china cup with intricate designs. It sits on a matching saucer with a silver spoon on the side. If he squints he can just about see an endless string of smoke evaporate into the deadened air of the bar.

It’s not long before Levi hears her return and in hand, his own set of china cup and saucer, white and plain of any design. She says nothing to him before placing it down and taking her own seat, her cup in hand.

He wonders where she got the set but makes no attempt to ask. Staring down at his cup, Levi’s fingertips latch onto the rim of his cup, lifting it up to his lips. He inhales the rising smoke but the liquid fails to meet his tongue as he pauses.

“You smell like cigarettes.” The woman says in english.

It’s only for a moment that he pauses before continuing his action. The hot liquid nearly burns his tongue before he swallows it down, the warmth awakening his body with satisfaction, curing his earlier ache.

He makes no reply, Levi’s not even fazed that she’s switched to english, planning to make no conversation whatsoever. His hand steadily places the cup down on its identical white cup. He’s a little bothered that he was given a plain one but refuses to entertain the thought.

Leaning back into the armchair, arms draped on both sides, he realizes that the woman hasn’t taken her eyes off him. She’s older, he guesses forties but remains unconfident in his answer. She doesn’t take a sip of her tea, instead choosing to study the man in front of him.

“Do you smoke?” She questions again in english, no sign of an accent. In a silent response, his eyes meet hers. Bored and exhausted.

Turning his head, he has the full view of the street in front of him through the large glazed window. Streetlights continue to flicker as a tall figure passes underneath in a large coat, quickly disappearing from Levi’s view. His eyes remain stuck to the landscape outside before he nods slightly, quick enough for anyone to miss it. Anyone who wasn’t studying him like this woman was.

For some reason he’s not uncomfortable in her gaze. Allowing her to freely scrutinize him in any means. He’ll never see her again after this.

She clears her throat for a moment, which causes him to look back at her, before she grabs the handle of her cup and takes a slow sip. The clatter of china when the cup reunites with the saucer is the only sharp sound heard in the bar.

“What brought you here?” She asks.

Now it’s Levi’s turn to clear his throat as his shoulders shrug. “I needed to clear my head.”

She hums in thought as if his answer sparked interest in her.

“Bored? Tired?” She switched to French all of a sudden. “You look like both.” She states. “When was the last time you slept?”

His eyes are drawn to the darkened visuals of the outside world again. Nothing has changed. A streetlight that stands directly across the bar across the road still flickers and the street remains empty, all the other businesses now closed for the night.

Levi inhales before speaking, “Can’t remember.” He responds in English, his tone heavy.

The woman tuts softly. “A man like you needs sleep, didn’t your mother ever tell you that?”

Levi refrains a laugh. Instead he lets a pause pass by before bringing his eyes back to the woman.

“I wish she could tell me that.”

The expression on the woman’s face changes slightly, his answer clearly unexpected. She picks up the silver spoon on the side of the saucer and begins to stir her tea.

“She’s– not alive?” The woman smoothly switches to English based on Levi’s replies. The only sound that’s heard in the bar is the softly repeated clink of metal hitting the china as it stirs. Levi picks up his cup once again with his right hand and takes a sip. Placing it back on the saucer, his arm returns back to resting on the arm of the chair.

“She– she died when I was young.”

This is the part that everyone sympathized with. The part where he becomes burdened with pity that he never asked for. The part where he deeply regrets talking about her. The part where the memories resurface and he remembers it all for a brief period.

Yet strangely, the woman doesn't offer her condolences.

“How young?”

Her tone is unchanged, still quiet without any added sympathy and Levi’s immediately thrown off guard. He blinks multiple times, his mind trying to quickly uncover the past that he’s buried deep inside himself for so long.

He frowns, “Uhm– eight, I think.”

“You think?” She repeats, suddenly making him feel some sort of guilt for not remembering. Levi quickly speaks up again, like he has something to prove.

“Or nine, I can’t remember.” He admits. “It was a long time ago.”

She merely slowly nods at his correction whilst continuing to stare at him. Her fingertips are clasped on the handle of the spoon, drawing little circles in the teacup.

Levi swallows thickly as if something’s lodged in his throat. It’s uncomfortable all of a sudden and the pains of uncovering that memory makes him start to sweat a little. He’d take off his jacket or even take a sip of tea to relieve himself but there’s something in his body that refuses to do so.

Something that tells him not to.

Instead, his fingers fiddle with each other, each arm still glued to the chair, tracing his thumbs over his index fingers

“What happened? How did she die?”

Levi stares at her, narrowing his eyes. Her question was unmissable, it rang loudly in his ears. He couldn’t ignore it. In his body there grew a deep desire to look away, to turn away from her and look back at the view of the street.

His head is heavy as he changes his glance towards the street.. The flickering streetlight across the street has switched off completely.

“Levi.” She snaps. And at the tap of the spoon against the rim of the china cup he finds his eyes on hers again.

He frowns, fingertips now resting on the arm of the chair heavily. “How do you know my name?”

“Answer the question. How did your mother die?”

The tone of her voice was inviting, it lured him in whilst his eyes grew hazy at recalling the memory. For a second, he forgot, his mind drowsy. His mind blank until the image of him sitting in front of the tv came into mind. The nostalgia of the front room of his old house rushed through his body suddenly, like a sharp pain he couldn’t ignore.

“Don’t sit too long in front of the tv.” his mother said. “Or your eyes will go square.”

Those were her last words before a hand reached down onto his head and ruffled his locks. No.

Perhaps she told him she loved him before leaving, or that she’ll be back home soon. No.

Maybe he didn’t even see her leave. Maybe she left before he ever woke up that morning.

“I–I can’t- I can’t remember.” he stammered, an uncomfortable pain in his throat stopped him from getting his words out properly, like a small bone was lodged in it. His nose scrunched up and his eyes began to water suddenly, searching the room as if the answer would appear somewhere on the walls.

No, no, no how could he forget?! How could he–

“You remember Levi.” she spoke, her hand stirring. “You remember the weather.”

His eyes widened, lips parting slightly. As soon as the words left her mouth, a vivid image hit him. Levi suddenly remembered the sound of rain hitting the window pane, water rushing down violently, teardrops smacking against the glazed glass.

“It was raining.” He mumbled, lips barely moving.

She hummed, nodding slightly. “Do you hear it?” His eyes became so blurred, he could barely see her in front of him.

Blink, blink, blink! His mind screamed at him. He could only just about force his eyelids to move.

A teardrop now solidified on his cheek, hearing the sound of raindrops battering against the window beside him. He longed to check, to see if it was visibly raining. But his head remained glued to her. He couldn’t pull away.

“What were you doing?”

“Nothing.” he swallowed, mouth now becoming dry. “Watching tv.”

“Watching tv?”

Levi hummed deeply, only managing to tilt his head slightly. He couldn’t stop his eyes from watering at the painful memory, now so vivid and so real. “She went to work and I was waiting for her to come home.”

“Did she come home?”

Levi hesitated. The weight on his chest increases by each and every second. “No.”

“Why?”

Again, his throat was painfully dry, sound struggling to come out. His fingertips began scratching at the velvet of the armchair. “I don’t know.” He whispered.

The woman hummed deeply. “I’m sure you know why. Why didn’t you call anyone?”

Levi inhales deeply, trying to regain his composure. His hands urged to wipe his tear stained cheeks but yet again his body refused to move. “Because then… it would make it real.”

“So you sat there doing nothing as your mother died?”

“I couldn’t–”

“You could’ve saved her.”

“I didn’t know.”

“But you sat there…waiting and waiting…doing nothing?”

His nails scratched roughly at the fabric of the armchair repeatedly, anxiety began to crawl into the pit of his stomach. Infiltrating his mind. Just like it did that night. Sat in his mother’s favorite chair, he stared at the endless glow of the television screen. A show he didn’t even like was on but he watched it anyway. He watched that episode and the episode after that and the episode after that.

“You let her die. You did nothing to save her.”

Her voice ringed in his ears, more heavy and thick with confrontational yet her tone wasn’t louder than a whisper. Move, move, move! Get up and get out! His mind screamed repeatedly, his body frozen in response, barely able to do anything but continue to scratch at the arms of the chair.

He had sat there that night in the same position he was sitting now. Waiting and waiting. Hands glued to each side of her chair, fingernails dug deep into the form of the chair. He waited for the sound of the steps on the porch to creak, for the jingle of keys to reach his eyes, for the front door to open and to visibly see his mother walk through.

Everytime he wanted to get up, his mind told him to stay put. ‘She’ll be here in five minutes. And if not then I’ll go out.’

Those five minutes easily passed away into ten minutes which quickly turned into an hour. An hour transitioned into two which then again doubled. And hours later he was still stuck in the same position, the glow of the tv penetrating his eyes, his skin.

Absorbing it all, he did nothing.

She was out there, dying and he knew. But he did nothing. He knew it was unusual, that something was wrong. His gut was coated in nausea and anxiety. Levi still did nothing.

Tears began to flow from his eyes, one after the another, following the trail down his cheeks.

“Why–why can’t I move?” Levi’s tone was panicked, rich in apprehension.“You can’t move.”

She merely repeats it as a dull fact although he thought she said it as a question.

“I– I–can’t, why can’t–” His fingernails dug painfully into the arms of the chair, close enough to start ripping the material, his muscles tensing violently.

“You’re paralyzed. Just like the day you did nothing. You did nothing.”

“You’re going to sink into the floor Levi–”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait–”

“Sink.”

/

Everything all seemed to happen at once. All of his senses were lost immediately. It was exactly as she said, he sunk. Body pulled down by an invisible force, he lost complete control as he submerged.

All of the darkness and sound merged into one, dragging him deeper and deeper into a bottomless pit.

He seemed to be falling in slow motion. His arms waved through the air, hands desperate to clasp something as he continued to fall.

A large cinema-like screen is positioned in front of him, where he could still see the woman. She had now placed down her tea and sat staring at him. To her, his mouth agape, eyes drastically widened with continuous teardrops that rolled down the side of his face. Paralyzed.

There was no amount of air in his lungs that he could use to scream or to shout. He felt no sense of control over his body. Fear consumed everything, every single part of him, drowning his body, saltwater filling his lungs in a void ocean. Questions ran through his mind, new ones appearing with every second it took for him to fall. What was happening to him? Why? Where? How? When would he hit the ground?

“You’re in the sunken place now, Levi .”

All of a sudden Levi found that his shirt feet were on the ground. He was surrounded by water and his body felt heavy. With each step he felt like there was something pulling him back.

The woman moves to stand and leans over the small table. Levi attempts to trail through the water. His lungs bursting, his body, his soul, his skin on fire with anger. Just as it was when he fell, his body is slow as he tries to run. No matter how much force or how much strength he imposes on his muscles, he continues to be weighed down by something.

He screams but there’s no sound. Every step he takes in the water is soundless. His body weighs down along with a magnetic force that holds him back, making every step he takes sluggish and uncontrollable. He wants to run and catch up to the screen but it’s near impossible.

Mouth agape, he tries to shout again, to no avail.

The woman holds out her index finger, closing the eyelid of Levi’s left eye.

Dark infiltrates half of the screen, light fading away. His throat is raw and tight, unable to shout even if he wanted to. Fear no longer surrounds him but is now within him.

He can do nothing.

She now moves to shut his right eye and Levi falls to his knees in surrender as the shadows envelop him whole.

Entire soul, body and mind. Everything.

Everything turns to dust.

Part of “don’t take my baby boy. don’t take my and joy.” series.

reblogs and comments are appreciated.

[vwritesaus]

The deep red glow of fire is beautiful to look at. Most of the pyre has burnt away now, the foundations having collapsed into a blazing heap some minutes ago. The crash was tremendous, a cacophony of cracking logs and splintering timber as the structure fell into itself. It was enough to see a handful of the congregation move away and start to leave the funeral, the whites and reds of their mourning clothes stark against the billowing black cloud of smoke and ashes.       Not for Thomas and the other Lightwoods. Not for their close family and friends either. Gabriel and Cecily are approached by those leaving, politely offering their condolences and sympathies. Gabriel takes them in stride as best he can with his heart crushed on his sleeve for the world to see. Cecily stares stonily at the remains of her son’s pyre, clutching Sophie’s hands like a vice as every commiseration falls on deaf ears.       Flecks of black float up towards the clouds and settle on the frosty grass of the Fields. Thomas watches them, thinking how stark they would look should it start to snow: white snowflakes burning in the sky, swallowed by the mouth of a dark, foggy beast.       There is something oddly beguiling about it. As is the nature of Shadowhunter funerals themselves. The fallen rise to the heavens through raging flames and black clouds: phoenixes awaiting their return beyond the river’s banks.       It’s a whisper in the wind, sounding strangely like Will Herondale, but it rocks the world underneath Thomas’s feet.       Pulvis et umbra sumus.       We are but dust and shadows.

continue reading on ao3

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and we've made it to end!! finally... T^T

but it's a bittersweet ending, i think. i had a blast writing this fic and i hope you enjoyed reading it. i just hope you all like this final chapter

thanks for sticking around and for all the support, you guys are the best ; v ; i hope you're all taking care and see you in the next one!! ♡

~

tag list: @drunkonimagination @edwinspaynes @thomastaircompassrose @faithfromanewperspective

let me know if you'd like to be added to or removed from the tag list!!

[mitorry]

“Pulvis et umbra sumus”

We are but dust and shadows ➰

@cassandraclare

[teine-mallaichte]

Some Latin (Tevene?) phrases for writing prompts

Some Latin (or Tevene :P ) phrases for writing prompts

“Mors certa, hora incerta.” (Death is certain, its hour is uncertain.)

“Pulvis et umbra sumus.” (We are dust and shadows.)

“Luctor et emergo.” (I struggle and emerge.)

“Aeternum vale.” (Farewell forever.)   

“Mors mihi lucrum.” (Death to me is reward.)

“Nascentes morimur.” (From when we are born, we begin to die.)

“Omnia mors aequat.” (Everything is equal in death.)

“Tempus edax rerum.” (Time, devourer of everything.)

“Ars longa, vita brevis.” (Art is long, life is short.)

“Sic transit gloria mundi.” (Thus passes the glory of the world.)

“Nemo me iuvare potest.”  (No one can help me)

“Memento mori.” (Remember that you will die.)

“Nascentes morimur.” (From when we are born, we begin to die.)

 “Solus sum” (I am alone.)

There is also THIS list of "actual" Tevene.

I am aware that according to the game codex Tavene is not far off being a  dead language, but I tend to ignore that in my fics lol, and regardless the idea that the Magisters at least still use a far amount of Tevene phrases feels reasonable in my mind… I mean I am a lowly personal trainer who grew up on a farm and I can read some Latin so *shrugs*  

These were collected for my DADWC prompt list, but feel free to use them yourself if they appeal. Also if you just wanted to ignore the Tevene aspect and use the Latin as a prompt go for it.

[latin-phrases-showdown]

Round 1 Poll 28

Pulvis et umbra sumus

"We are (but) dust and shadows"

It is a quote from Horace in The Odes of Horace. It has been used in tombstones and was also used as a motto for the demon hunters in The Shadowhunter Chronicles

Sic mundus (creatus est)

"Thus the world was created"

Phrase used by Adam in the show "Dark". Shows up in many episodes and often shortened to Sic Mundus

[dhr-ao3]

The Order of the Veil

The Order of the Veil https://ift.tt/Q0R6D8i by BlytheMondays Pulvis et umbra sumus 'We are dust and shadows' Book 2 starts immediately after the Goblet of Chaos in this thrilling series following Draco, Hermione and their relationship as they face prophecies, challenges and the Dark Lord rising. A blurb will be added when Goblet of Chaos is finished to avoid spoilers. I do not permit this book to be bound, translated or redistributed, without my written consent. All the characters belong to JK Rowling, I own this original story and characters but not the world. Words: 3, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Lavender Brown, Ginny Weasley, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore, Cedric Diggory, Pansy Parkinson Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/nzOu7J4 July 17, 2024 at 02:09PM

[wondereads]

Things I’ve highlighted in Clockwork Angel:

“Pulvis et umbra sumus…we are dust and shadows”

“That amusement that didn’t seem to pass beyond the surface of his features, as if he found everything in the world both infinitely funny and infinitely tragic all at the same time”

“When she Changed back to herself, how was she to know there wasn’t some sligh shift in her very self, something that made her not who she was anymore? Or did it matter what she looked like at all? Was her face nothing but a mask of flesh, irrelevant to her true self?”

Also things I’ve highlighted in Clockwork Angel:

“‘The handsome young fellow who’s trying to rescue you from a hideous fate is never wrong. Not even if he says the sky is purple and made of hedgehogs’”

“‘Henry,’ said Charlotte…’if you set yourself on fire deliberately, I will institute divorce proceedings’”

“‘Remember when you tried to convince me to feed a poultry pie to the mallards in the park to see if you could breed a race of cannibal ducks?’ ‘They ate it too,’ Will reminisced. ‘Bloodthirsty little beasts. Never trust a duck’”

[rolloollor]

The first chapter of my mallerollo vampire AU is out! I'm really excited to finally share this fic!!

Haixin has once again agreed to provide us with lovely artwork! Rollo looks amazing here. So much gravitas! Perfect for a vampire~ Not every chapter will have a piece to go with it, but I know each one we get will be amazing!

The fic is just over 40k long. It's in the same category as Sacerdos in my head, which maybe will make sense after reading both or maybe it won't. But there's a nice role reversal in this fic, so look forward to seeing different sides of both Malleus and Rollo.

Summary of the fic:

On a trip to an abandoned village, Malleus Draconia encounters more than simple ruins. A living relic, once called Father Rollo Flamme, lies in wait in the bowels of a decaying church...

[bittermelodiesreads]

“I believe in good and evil,” said Jem. “And I believe the soul is eternal. But I don’t believe in the fiery pit, the pitchforks, or endless torment. I do not believe you can threaten people into goodness.”

Tessa looked at Will. “What about you? What do you believe?”

“Pulvis et umbra sumus,” said Will, not looking at her as he spoke. “I believe we are dust and shadows. What else is there?”

-Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Angel

[dark-academia-quotes]

“Pulvis et umbra sumus. (We are but dust and shadow.)” ― Horace, The Odes of Horace

[tomriddleslove]

As promised, here is the playlist for the new series:

Pulvis et umbra sumus (we are dust and shadow)

Characters: Mattheo Riddle x Alessandra Monroe

Hopefully should be up with the first chapter soon!

[ellanainthetardis]

« Pulvis et umbra sumus. “We are but dust and shadow. »

Iron Gold - Pierce Brown