Excuse me Santa Lestat but can I sit on Louis’ lap and tell him what I want for Christmas instead of yours please. đŸŽ…đŸŽđŸ˜€

♛You want him and not ME?!

Rude.

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Go ahead, suit yourself! *gestures to Louis, sitting on a nearby divan. Louis lowers the newspaper he was reading.* But know that his gift-giving skills are mediocre at best. He needs a lot of direction in that department. I can’t deny that sitting in his lap might be gift enough, however *evil smile*

Just don’t wriggle too much. He’s got a low tolerance for ebullient people, I should know from personal experience *huffs off*

Gosh, Santa de Lioncourt kills me every time. I’m weeping with laughter, and it’s your fault :’) PrĂ©cieux petit croissant, ne cesse jamais d’ĂȘtre aussi drĂŽle!

♛Et tu me fais plaisir, aussi! Il faut que je continuer Ă  faire ça, c’est ma metier et ma passion terrible. ooc; *hides face* because you’re gonna correct the femininity/masculinity of my nouns now but you should be impressed that I TRIED. “A” for effort, I award it to myself.

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And…. Lestaaaaat â™Ș♫…. this year you will be Santa Lestat, again? May I ask you for some presents for me and my friends? Can I sit in your lap? :3

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♛Yes, indeed! 

My lovelies: kittyslover has inspired me to open these arms to embrace you all.​ Hop up into the velvet-clad Santa de Lioncourt’s lap and tell him your heart’s desire. Have you been naughty or nice? There’s still time to switch lists
 and you know Santa de Lioncourt has a preference for the very Naughty
 You may also offer gifts to Santa, you know. It needn’t be a one-way relationship
 *grins and flicks a fang*

Hey, love your blog — it’s so fun to check it and have a great time. It’s just awesome– thanks for everything! <3<3<3<3

omg yes please, you are so welcome! This is my way to share my personal collection of VC awesome, I’m like a VC-AU Ariel w/ a cavern of VC fanworks instead of land-world stuff *u*

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^I was bored of my usual reaction shots so have this instead ;D

See this kind of message is why I do this. I make/gather the kind of content I searched for for so long and could only get little scraps here and there. 

THIS IS OUR ADDICTION AND WE SHOULD ALL ENJOY THE DRUGS TOGETHER!

Dear Santa Lestat, I’ve been pretty good this year I think. I passed all my classes and even had a bit of a self discovery about my sexuality that I’m still working on. (I think I’m asexual), but it feels good to have somewhat of an idea in my head. I’d take whatever you feel like giving and pass my love onto the rest of the coven please! Happy Holidays!

 ♛Beth! Beth. You have been very good. 

As I am a student of the savage garden, there are no walls to my classrooms, there are limitless teachers, other classmates, group projects well sometimes I assign work to David because it does make him feel useful, aside from being my punching bag. However, I am tested. Often. And not always in the manner or at the time I would prefer *snorts* 

Merci, cherie, consider your love passed onto the coven, they are always flattered although they try not to show it that my adoring fans care for their well-being, too!

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♛Your gift is a stroll along the East river in New York City, a flight up to the top of the Brooklyn Bridge to gaze upon the twinkling lights of one of my favorite cities in the world. 

And a lifetime subscription to Cat Fancy, because you have cats! 

♛As for your self discovery, that is wonderful! Does it feel as if a weight is being lifted? Asexuality is a very real orientation. After Louis’ book, many people asked Anne Rice our ghostwriter whether we were asexual as if it was a bad thing. Not just Louis and myself, but all vampires. The term is very specific
 and I am certain that I have mentioned that certain features no longer “work” the same way after we are turned.

I defy definition as always. You may consider us asexual if it helps you.

I can tell you that whatever your definition of sex is (and it can be so much more than merely penetration), love is absolutely possible, nay, necessary. I am just realizing now that my search for goodness, doing good
 these things are deeply rooted in a desire to be praised, but more than that, to be loved. Isn’t that what we all want? That first love you feel for your mother/parent is without language, it’s that simple.

Sex itself is an act of closeness, of allowing oneself to be vulnerable to another, to nurturing and satisfying that other person(s) (hey, there can be more than 2!). There’s a spectrum in that. You can be vulnerable and nurturing to others outside of sex, too. 

*flashes her a smile, hops onto the window sill. Bows courteously and then takes to the air* 

Dear Santa-Lestat. I’ve been reading your books since I was twelve and they’ve been helping me cope through everything. Well, my father died last month, my best friend died two days ago. I don’t really know what to do anymore. Everything’s been too much. I’ve been trying to read your books still, but stress is a fickle thing. All I know is that some cosmic power has it out for me. What do you think? Love, Ishmael. <3

♛*Lestat leans back in his chair, cracks his knuckles, licks his fangs. Leans forward, a look of concern etched across his face. Begins to write*

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Ishmael, it sounds so egotistical for me to recommend that you go back and read my books, but those are my words of comfort, you can glean from them the messages that speak to you. Sometimes I’m rather explicit in my advice, this is relevant here:

“
 I was worn and miserable and I loved crying. I couldn’t do anything else. I gave in to it fully. I felt that profound release of the utterly grief-stricken. I didn’t give a damn who saw or heard. I cried and cried.

Do you know what I think about crying? I think some people have to learn to do it. But once you learn, once you know how to really cry, there’s nothing quite like it. I feel sorry for those who don’t know the trick. It’s like whistling or singing.” me, Memnoch the Devil. [X]

Read The Vampire Lestat and Memnoch the Devil, two of my books that I believe would be helpful to you
 and imagine that I am there, with an arm wrapped around you, reading those words aloud. 

Santa Lestat hears you. There is no easy solution.

Sometimes I feel that some cosmic power has it out for me, as well. Are we to cry out that it’s unfair? Yes. But more than that, we have to kill the wolves. Metaphorically speaking.

Find strength where you can, and spread kindness and goodness to your family and friends. This will help fill the void that you feel. 

*embraces tightly*

♛Ishmael, are you aware that your name means God hears? Despite having been to heaven and hell, I’m still not sure if I believe in God, and whether if he hears, does he listen? There is a distinction. With a religious name like that, I would guess that your family did believe, and perhaps, so do you. At least in the existence of God, if not the fact that he is a listener. 

I’m not calling myself a God, but I hear you. I’m listening. 

So, not a God, although I have had Papal aspirations. Perhaps that’s more to do with my wanting/needing to be given a place, a reason to exist, and Popes have the advantage in that it is their job to do Good, and encourage others to do the same. 

Reading my books means that you’ve heard my words. Twelve! I may have just been enlightened myself at that age, at the monastery. It’s a young age to be reading the kind of grotesquery that is my life story, but the good outweighs the bad, and the overall message I would want my story to convey is for Louis to quit it with the religious guilt that follows any carnal, romantic, or platonic satisfaction!!! *ahem*
 that life deals us different hands and it is possible to survive, even thrive, in the face of searing adversity. To hear that my stories have helped you cope with life’s obstacles is proof that I’ve done some good in this world, which was always my mission, even as a child in a monastery. 

I’ve lost many people I’ve loved. I’ve led many people to their deaths. Real or not, it was absolutely terrifying to be confronted with the souls of those I’ve killed. 

How does one deal with such great losses
 a parent is someone who brought you into this world. That’s why I had to ask Louis to help my own father, ease his suffering, that was something I could not do myself. I’m still grateful for that.

A best friend is the family you claim for yourself, completely irreplaceable.

Cherish the memories, and know that you have room in your heart for more joy than you can imagine.

kittyslover replied to your photoset “kittyslover ♛*embraces the girl, hands crawling softly about her…”

You could stalk me every time that you want o I love this… I really love this answer and makes me think on send more letters xDDDD

Awwww, thanks for that! Yeah I only got through your 2014 in your archive, I will have to take another dip for more. 

Dear Saint–Santa Lestat: I have been pretty okay this year. I JUST won my fight against all sorts of mental problems that have been plaguing me and I am in the mood for change in a big way. I am myself again, not just a lump under the covers. I’m dyeing my hair, changing the style of my wardrobe, mixing things up–and I’ll take any gift you want to give me. Dark ones included. ;)

♛Dear Rae~ despite your “handle,” it appears that you are thinking very sensically; winning your fight against all sorts of mental problems is absolutely cause to celebrate, and makes you more than “pretty okay” in Santa Lestat’s book. *takes your hand and and kisses the back delicately* Be strong, there may yet be trying times, that’s to be expected. This comes from one who still deals with an assortment of inner demons of his own… which attack on a nightly, if not hourly, basis. As you can tell from any of my heartbreaking works of staggering genius. 

These changes you’re making, I do the same when the mood strikes, when it feels a new chapter has begun. I usually resort to interior redecorating, and retail therapy, as things like hair dye rinse away upon the first touch of water… piercings are somewhat irritating and the flesh closes when the metal is removed, tattoos fade away completely during the deathsleep. But I digress…

Santa Lestat hears you, darling Rae… imagine a dance between us, barefoot in the pale moonlight, on a rooftop someplace warm. I’ll bring you a dark red velvet gown to match your new look. It’s not THE Dark Gift, but it is A dark gift *embraces you gently*