annabellioncourt:

I just thought of something painful involving Prince Lestat.

So he had his father’s old castle refurbished…imagine one day he gets a call from the people who were adding some modern plumbing, and electrical lines, digging around parts of the property and they came across a collection of bones.

They’re too close together to be an old cemetery, even a private one—besides, there’s still some old mossy headstones with barely legible carvings of “Lioncourt” on them in the village nearby, signaling that even the lords were buried in it. No, no, this speaks more of a post-battle burial, hasty, but there’s no metal, no remains of anything of value, and digging farther down, pulling out and separating the fragile old bones and eventually finding ones belonging to children. 

“French Revolution, probably,” says the man on the phone, “Funny to think it, they might even be some ancestors of yours,” 

“Of course…they’re probably my family.”