Nightly Spiral

When I was 17 my appendix ruptured because I thought I was just having period cramps and didn’t go to the hospital so don’t tell me PMS symptoms are no big deal

Happiness Will Come To You.

hiii neil !! hope you’re doing well and all that !!!!

the people need to know !! do their wings make a heart ? 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

If you're asking about the new poster...

Obviously the wings do not make a heart. They make the dread black and white sigil Puehtni in the language of ancient Mu, and are there to indicate the exact day of release, because as anyone familiar with ancient Mu knows, Puehtni-Nwod was also the Murian Falling Bluebird Festival, when clouds of toxic smoke were released from the Temple of All the Gods Save One, rendering flying temple bluebirds unconscious, and causing a hazard to traffic.

I hope this clarifies matters for you.

. (by Tarjei Krogh)

sandman hope!hob au Pandora's box

okay so we know DC follows Greek/roman mythology to a point right? so Pandora's box must exist, and we all know the story right? hope gets trapped in the box after Pandora opens it.

part 2

wordcount: 1551

hope!hob is trapped within this box for several millennia all alone, not even taunted by captors, just isolated in the dark and quiet watching as new awful things are born within the box. I imagine the box is opened by someone just before the age of heroes begins. a scorned lover pouring all the new horrid things directly into their cheating, abusive partner and catching a very small light before it enters their gaping chest cavity. they hold hope there, magically closing the wound and sealing their lover into an endless void, outside of time’s realm condemning them to live forever in never ending pain. they do all this with one hand, carefully holding hope, they take his small form outside and whisper into their hand

“do something worthwhile with this freedom, any god out there knows we need you” the words are washy and weak “and if you cannot find the strength to do it all yourself, bless people to inspire you within the minds of the rest of us”

they open their hand and hob’s little light form takes off to see just how the world got on without him. not well obviously, a world with no hope is desolate and cold. hope goes back to his realm to call on his sister death to catch him up, and she tells him she knows just the person to do just that.

Morpheus has been around a long time. he was born after Pandora opened the box and the only word the people of his village called him was hopeless. this was not a surprise of course, hope was not where he was supposed to be, but the rest of the children still seemed to want to live. Morpheus however made it seem like a chore. he went through the motions as they came and did nothing more or less. he was a thing of beauty though, his demeanor didn’t stop suitors from pursuing him. they all did their best but none of them ever seemed to interest him. he even caught the eye of a king who gifted him a ruby necklace saying it popped against his pale skin and dark hair. Morpheus did not particularly want to keep it but his parents had insisted he keep it and marry the king anyway.

and so he did.

he was not particularly fond of his husband, but he didn’t dislike him. the marriage and his husband were just another motion. the grounds of his husband's kastro were vast and stretched for miles and ended in cliffs that Morpheus found himself standing before at the end of the many walks he took in a day. one particular evening, when the winds were stronger that usual, he found himself lingering at the cliff’s edge a bit longer and a bit closer than he normally would, and so had someone else

“are you going to jump?”

to say the voice had startled him would be incorrect, it had simply shifted his focus. the woman who the voice belonged to was dressed in a fine ebony cloth and a very simple necklace with a strange symbol he could not place, and her skin was just as pale as his, if someone had seen them together they might’ve thought they were siblings, still Morpheus did not especially care who she was or what she was doing here but answered her nonetheless

“no, but would it really matter if i did?”

“what does it matter? you know, most people have some sort of emotion towards the prospect of dying.”

“i suppose they do, don’t they? i don’t see why though, it’s going to happen whether they want it to or not”

“they probably see the beauty, or in some cases pain, that life has to offer” Morpheus tilted his head and thought for a moment before looking back at the woman

“perhaps life has nothing to offer me, nothing of value anyway” he said starting his way back to the kastro past the woman dressed in black. he had already gotten past her as she cocked her head and called back to him

“you know how you said it happens whether one wants it to or not?” he stopped and turned back to her

“yes, what of it?”

“it’s not going to happen to you”

“what?” she turned to face him once more

“you aren’t going to die, whether you want to or not. you are going to watch as life progresses and evolves into something you, at this moment, could never even fathom.” she beamed, before he could question her further one of the servants called his name, it was late and the king wanted him back in the kastro, he called back saying he’d be in soon, but when he turned to face her, she was gone.

now, hundreds of thousands of years later, as he stands in the entrance to his home, standing in the living room, the woman is before him once more for the second time. her clothes match the days casual fashion just as they had before, all black and very simple with the same necklace. the man next to her, however, is wearing clothes that fit with the first outfit he has at the very bottom of a trunk in his attic. a long pale yellow tunic with white underneath with traditional sandals. his hair reaches just above his shoulders and his head seems to have a faint gold glow around it. he's looking around at the shelves of books, movies and various musical mediums with awe before moving on to the trinkets and sculptures scattered around.

"I don't believe I introduced myself the last time we met" she pipes up drawing Morpheus's attention away from the man

"you did not." he confirms as he sets his bag down and hangs his coat "you also left quite suddenly" he adds as he takes off his shoes

"yes I did" she laughs "I'm here to rectify one of those things, I am death of the endless and this," she pauses to pull the man behind her to her side "is my brother, hope" the man smiles "and I have a favor to ask of you"

morpheus tilts his head "a favor, why would i do you a favor?"

"its not really for me, its for him" she says pushing him forward a bit

"he doesn't have to do anything for me if he doesn't want to" he says to her before turning to Morpheus "you really don't, I can figure it out by myself, sister I can figure it out on my own this really isn't necessary" his motions are slightly sporadic

"figure what out?" he asks walking to the kitchen thinking about what type of drink to get for his guests.

"you don't have to worry about it, it-"

"my brother hasn't been able to reach this realm for quite awhile, he needs someone to catch him up on what he's missed" death interrupts with a smile "and I thought who better than someone whos been around the longest?" she asks as she follows him to the kitchen

Morpheus ponders this for a moment 'what he's missed?' he pops his head out of the kitchen to take another look at hope 'based on his clothes he's probably never had hot chocolate' he thinks as he goes back in to start gathering the various types of chocolate from his pantry and put some milk on the stove.

"if I were to help him. what would I have to do? just give him the internet, could he just absorb the information?" he questions as he cuts up a chocolate bar.

"internet? what's an internet?" hope asks panicked "can it catch me? is it magic?"

"no hope, no, nononononono, it cant catch you" she reassures him "its like destiny's book but, um, well its hard to explain but its not a net, it cant catch you" she puts her hands on his shoulders and quietly says "no one is going to catch you again I promise. I wont let them"

'catch him again? where was he?' he thinks as he stops cutting 'who caught him?'

"okay no internet"

"no internet"

"i guess, i could just, i dont know, tell him stories?" morpheus suggests pouring the chocolate into the milk and stirring

"stories sound nice, i'd like to hear stories." hope says in a small voice

"you're gonna need some new clothes though," he says pouring the hot chocolate in a cup "tunics aren't exactly in style anymore. here I think you'll like this" he says handing it to hope, watching his reaction as his face lights up. like actually lights up. well not his face per say, but the light around his head.

"this is delightful! what is it?" hope beams (literally) looking into his cup

"you may not have been around but you still live within their souls, if ever so slightly. they are never truly free of you, hope" death says leaning over the counter. "anyway. hope, when Morpheus lights this candle it means he's ready to tell you a story. okay?" he nods "alright lets get you bac to your realm" "okay :)" and with that they're gone.

"..."

"I didn't even really agree" Morpheus says, holding the candle.

n e ways i hope the four people who see this and also read through all of it like it! thank you for reading!

✦Flower Sword✦

print

Here’s the thing: We know prolonged exposure to the time vortex can cause someone to become a “time lord” in that they develop the ability to regenerate. We also know that Clara and Me travel for an unknown amount of time in a TARDIS. And we know Clara’s death is a fixed point in time. Since time doesn’t unravel, we know that she at some point after her travels, she returns to face the raven and accepts her death. Because the Doctor is transported immediately following Clara’s death, we never actually see the aftermath of her death.

This leaves the possibility that when she dies by the raven, she actually regenerates!

Anyway I feel like there’s potential for fanfic, some Big Finish exploration, or even bringing a whole new actress in to play Clara in some distant future series.

ancient greek word of the day: κακοθερής (kakotherēs), unfitted to endure summer heat

cinnamon.hodgepodge

Jessamy, Raven of the Dreaming, messenger of Lord Morpheus, his eyes and ears in other realms, bearer of hot gossip.

1389.

The Dreaming titters with the knowledge that something has happened, a new star in the sky above the throne room, burning suddenly bright.

"That's Hob Gadling," Jessamy confides to Lucienne. "Lord Morpheus' sister granted him immortality."

"Why on Earth would she do something like that?" Lucienne asks.

Jessamy ruffles her feathers. "She saw the way Lord Morpheus looked at him. He hasn't looked at something like he cared that much in centuries."

1489.

"How was—"

"Oh he's so handsome now," Jessamy gushes before Lucienne can finish her question. "And he's gotten into printing."

Lucienne looks around the already-expanding library, shifting and adjusting to suit the needs of a human populace whose relationship to the written word has changed forever. It's been like this some time.

The newest star in the throne room shines a little brighter.

1589.

"You seem—"

"He walked away from Hob," Jessamy says. She loves Lord Morpheus with all her heart, but sometimes she forgets he was never human.

"Did he do something wrong?" Lucienne asks, running a comforting finger over her head.

"He's happy," Jessamy says. "I think it was an affront."

1689.

Jessamy barrels into Lucienne's chest, trying to scrabble under her coat.

A waking world raven has no tears to shed, but part of Jessamy will always be human, and she does not wish to cry in front of an audience. Lucienne is a librarian, she's accustomed to keeping people's secrets.

"He's been alone and miserable for eighty years."

"Lord Morpheus?" Lucienne asks. "It's been much longer tha—"

"Hob!" Jessamy wails.

"Oh," Lucienne pauses. "Did he ask for—"

"He still wants to live!" Jessamy sobs.

"Ah." Unknown to Jessamy, tucked under Lucienne's coat, Lucienne smiles.

The star in the throne room blazes like a sun.

1789.

"They were attacked," Jessamy reports.

"Who were?" Mervyn, finally, has decided to catch up with the local gossip.

"Lord Morpheus and Hob Gadling," Jessamy explains, vibrating with energy. "Hob got up to defend him before I could wriggle my way out of his coat. It's so tight this century."

Lucienne smiles a knowing little smile. “Did he, now? That is interesting.”

In the throne room, Lord Morpheus watches the star.

1889.

Lucienne finds Jessamy hiding in a gap in a bookshelf, glaring out at the world with barely restrained anger.

“He walked away again. All Hob offered was friendship. He wants it. I don’t understand.”

Lucienne offers an arm, and when Jessamy accepts it, holds her close to her chest, stroking her gently.

“This is why he’s immortal,” Lucienne says wisely. “Lord Morpheus has never made a friend before. It’s a slow process.”

2022.

“I’m sorry, is there something… moving in your coat?” Hob asks, halfway through an anecdote about the first car he’d owned.

Dream clears his throat subtly. He hesitates, and then holds the coat open, to reveal the head and a strip of striking white breast of what looks, to Hob, like a very small, very strange raven.

“I thought her lost,” Dream says softly. “But found her wandering the Dreaming once it was put to rights. She has been eager to meet you for some time. I had always intended to introduce you,” he adds, clearly for the raven’s sake rather than Hob’s. “I had simply meant to ease him into the idea first.”

The raven nuzzles his cheek.

Hob’s heart swells three sizes.

"This is Jessamy," Dream says. "She has been exceptionally loyal to me." A pause. "And to you, when I have been… unkind."

Hob tilts his head. Jessamy tilts hers right back. "She's been in your coat the whole bloody time, hasn't she?"

Something Hob had never thought to see no matter how long he lived happens then. Dream blushes.

Jessamy makes a soft sound that serves as an answer, and Hob grins at her. "I like you," he says. "We can be friends too, if you like."

"I'd like that," Jessamy says.

Hob is very lucky he literally can't have a heart attack. At the same moment, there's a tap on the window. A bigger, all black raven is perched on one of the chairs next to it.

"Ah," Dream says. "It appears Matthew would also like to make your acquaintance."

Hob blinks. He looks at Jessamy. He looks at Matthew. He looks at Dream.

"How many bloody ravens do you have?"