A Million Ratmas Wishes

[Stare]

Arrows, darling <333 I am absolutely ecstatic to be your Secret Santa this year! You are a phenomenal human being and I adore plotting with you, writing with you,and just generally chatting with you. You deserve the world and then some, dear, and I hope I was able to come up with something to make your holidays bright!


First, have a graphic!

Second, have a table!

Mistah Kurtz — he dead. A penny for the Old Guy

We are the hollow men. We are the stuffed men. Leaning together, headpiece filled with straw. Alas! Our dried voices, when we whisper together, are quiet and meaningless as wind in dry grass or rats' feet over broken glass in our dry cellar. Shape without form, shade without colour, paralysed force, gesture without motion; those who have crossed with direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom, remember us — if at all — not as lost violent souls, but only as the hollow men. The stuffed men.

Eyes I dare not meet in dreams in death's dream kingdom. These do not appear: there, the eyes are sunlight on a broken column. There, is a tree swinging and voices are in the wind's singing, more distant and more solemn than a fading star. Let me be no nearer in death's dream kingdom. Let me also wear such deliberate disguises. Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves in a field. Behaving as the wind behaves. No nearer— Not that final meeting in the twilight kingdom.

This is the dead land. This is cactus land. Here the stone images are raised, here they receive the supplication of a dead man's hand under the twinkle of a fading star. Is it like this in death's other kingdom? Waking alone at the hour when we are trembling with tenderness. Lips that would kiss form prayers to broken stone.

The eyes are not here. There are no eyes here, in this valley of dying stars, in this hollow valley, this broken jaw of our lost kingdoms. In this last of meeting places we grope together and avoid speech, gathered on this beach of the tumid river. Sightless, unless the eyes reappear as the perpetual star, multifoliate rose of death's twilight kingdom. The hope only of empty men.

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[font size="1"][font face="Verdana"][div align="justify"][font color="cccacf"]Mistah Kurtz — he dead. A penny for the Old Guy

We are the hollow men. We are the stuffed men. Leaning together, headpiece filled with straw. Alas! Our dried voices, when we whisper together, are quiet and meaningless as wind in dry grass or rats' feet over broken glass in our dry cellar. Shape without form, shade without colour, paralysed force, gesture without motion; those who have crossed with direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom, remember us — if at all — not as lost violent souls, but only as the hollow men. The stuffed men.

Eyes I dare not meet in dreams in death's dream kingdom. These do not appear: there, the eyes are sunlight on a broken column. There, is a tree swinging and voices are in the wind's singing, more distant and more solemn than a fading star. Let me be no nearer in death's dream kingdom. Let me also wear such deliberate disguises. Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves in a field. Behaving as the wind behaves. No nearer— Not that final meeting in the twilight kingdom.

This is the dead land. This is cactus land. Here the stone images are raised, here they receive the supplication of a dead man's hand under the twinkle of a fading star. Is it like this in death's other kingdom? Waking alone at the hour when we are trembling with tenderness. Lips that would kiss form prayers to broken stone.

The eyes are not here. There are no eyes here, in this valley of dying stars, in this hollow valley, this broken jaw of our lost kingdoms. In this last of meeting places we grope together and avoid speech, gathered on this beach of the tumid river. Sightless, unless the eyes reappear as the perpetual star, multifoliate rose of death's twilight kingdom. The hope only of empty men.



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Third (and definitely the one I'm most nervous about!), have a guardian angel. Because you know I had to get the two of them in here somehow <3

This picture actually has a semi-funny and very embarrassing story attached to it that I'll tell you about through DM if you ask xD




I adore you, darling, and I hope you have a wonderful holiday!

Arrows