my favorite place is next to you

(my starter is terrible, i'm so sorry. x.x)


When Amelia had lived in Mystic Falls, she'd been normal. She had been human. Most of all, she had been engaged. Of course, the engagement hadn't entirely been of her own choice, but she'd gone along with it easily because she had known her fiance fairly well. They had been friends and, over the years that she had known him prior to the engagement, she had grown to adore him, had even loved him. Of course, falling in love with one such as Damon Salvatore had likely ultimately been her downfall. Damon had loved another, Katherine Pierce. And, while Amelia had wished it hadn't bothered her back then, it had.

It hadn't mattered, though. Before the wedding day could come too close, Amelia had fallen deathly ill. Until then, Amelia had known nothing about vampires, but a vampire had come to visit her: Pearl. Pearl had apparently taken pity on Amelia and, for some reason or another, had fed Amelia her blood before she put Amelia out of her misery. When Amelia woke and fed to complete the transition, Pearl had sent her off. It wasn't long after that that Mystic Falls had decided to purge itself of the vampires in the small town. To this day, Amelia wasn't even sure what had happened. She hadn't even known whether her own fiance had ever known about her death or even her illness.

It didn't matter, Amelia supposed. There really was no point in thinking about the past too much; it only served to hurt her more in the end. Plenty of times, when she thought back on the past love she held for Damon Salvatore, she'd driven herself to lose her humanity because of the pain. It wasn't just because she hadn't had his love, though. It was because, along the way, she'd learned that Katherine had also been a vampire. And, moreover, she had heard tale of the Salvatore siblings dying as well. She hadn't just lost a person she'd loved; that person had died.

Because of this knowledge, she wasn't even sure why she was going back to Mystic Falls now. She knew it was only going to serve to bring about memories that she didn't want to relive and possibly even force her to turn her humanity off again, but Mystic Falls had been gaining quite the reputation lately. And, admittedly, she was more than a little curious about what was going on. As she passed the Welcome to Mystic Falls sign and got into town, she decided to park her car so that she could wander around and explore a bit. Her first stop ended up being a quaint little spot called the Mystic Grill.

---

Mystic Falls had its charms and it was something that kept Klaus entertained. It helped that a very valuable doppelganger lived there and that he ultimately needed her blood to successfully turn werewolves into hybrids. But, even Klaus needed his breaks from Mystic Falls and, this time, the short break had led him to New Orleans. It had been his home once, a place where his family had each had their moments of happiness. But, he supposed that, while he had been there, he should keep up to the promise that he made to a witch back then, to keep her descendants safe. It had been a while since he'd last checked in on the line of descendants that came from that witch.

Surprisingly, though, as he inspected the city of New Orleans in secret, there seemed to be no sign of the descendants of that specific witch. Many other witches were out, wandering about, but not those from the lineage he had been searching for. It took a little digging, probably more than he had really wanted to be bothered with, but he had eventually learned that the most recent descendants from that lineage had moved to a place that Klaus had certainly not expected: Mystic Falls. What a small world it was. The thought almost made him amused and he had been on his way back to Mystic Falls soon after gaining that knowledge.

He had arrived back in Mystic Falls only that morning. There hadn't necessarily been any rush to return, so he had taken his time on his return. He supposed getting there early in the morning gave him a bit more time to search for the family he was meant to find and he was sure it wouldn't be too hard. There was even the possibility of conning those Salvatore brothers or maybe the Bennett witch into helping with threats of harming their dear Elena. (Not that he would; why would he destroy the one person who held the ingredient he needed to make more hybrids?)

On his way back, though, he had called his hybrids to request them to start the search anyways. He wasn't sure if the family's surname had changed over the last couple decades since his last check in with the family, but he had relayed the knowledge that he had from back then. Hopefully, it would turn up something. And, before long, it seemed it had, because he had a text from Tyler Lockwood with an address. How convenient. The thought made him smirk and he headed to the location, soon coming to a stop at the house before he lifted his hand and knocked on the door.

Damon Salvatore | Vampire


Sometimes he doesn't know why he came back. What about Mystic Falls that drew him here, over, and over again. The place he'd had his heart broken too many times to count. How many more times would this happen to him? How many times would he continue to be yanked back to this place, and how many times would he watch history repeat itself? Of course he was talking about Stephen, and the love the Petrova doppelganger's held for him; no matter which life or name they seemed to carry. Though he'd have to admit- he cared more for Elena than Katherine. There was good in Elena, he saw it. And as much as he liked to pretend, for all his sarcasm and walls there was none, Elena brought out the good in him too. But it wasn't just Damon. She just had that effect on people. When Stephen had disappeared with Klaus after the ritual, it had been Elena to bring him back. It had been her devotion to his brother.

And Damon? He was envious. He wanted someone to look at him the way those two looked at each other. He wanted someone to care the way that Elena did about Stephen; though he didn't necessarily covet Elena herself. After Katherine, after all she'd done to him... He didn't think he could ever love someone with her face. Every time he saw Elena there was some part of him that was reminded of before. When he was human and happy. Sure, his father saw him as a disappointment. The son who fled the army. But he had other things. He had a love, a good woman who was to be his wife. Before that she was his friend. One of his closest confident. When he returned home from the war, she hadn't looked at him any different. He was still acceptable, in her eyes. And sure, he may not have loved her with the passion that consumed him when it came to Katherine. He had been a blind fool. Too busy chasing greener pastures to realize how deeply he'd been consumed by Katherine's whirlwinds of deception.

The further he fell into Katherine, the farther he fell from his betrothed. Still even when his affections had been beguiled by Katherine, his fiance had stayed by his side. She had tried to. Right to the end. Until her disappearance. Amelia... It still hurts to think of her name. Looking back, perhaps that had been true devotion. The kind he longed for these days, like some karmic joke. But then the town tried to rid itself of vampires. The rest was history, his history. He sighs at his regular spot at the Mystic Grill's bar, nursing a glass of whiskey. Alaric's not here; which is rare these days. Since Jenna's death Damon had been trying help him out of the slump he was in; in his own ways of course. The white noise of the other patrons buzzes in his overly sensitive ears though he does try to tune it out. Reminiscing in such a manner often puts him in a foul mood, though he tries to temper this mood with another sip of the whiskey; the amber liquid burning his gullet like fire on the way down. He's not particularly hungry, which is good news for whichever poor soul he'd of fed off of.

Stephen is god knows where, likely with Elena though he doesn't like to think about that. Rather his icy gaze turns back to his drink, nearly empty. Perhaps he should try to pull himself out of this melancholy, find simpler pursuits to distract himself. Not just from his mood, but everything happening in Mystic Falls. Klaus knew Elena was alive, and his damned hybrids were still on the lose. The original hybrid seemed to find no shortage of amusement in tormenting the residents of Mystic Falls, just his luck. Somehow, Damon had fallen into some perverse role of protester to this town. Go figure. He scoffs down at his drink, and knocks the last of it back setting it back down on the barkeep with a bit more force than needed. He feels restless. He's just waiting for Klaus to spring some new master plan on them; half-waiting for Stephen to go off the rails again; and it feels like too much. Damon throws down a few bills for his drink and gets to his feet. He needs to take a drive, clear his head.

No one gives him a second chance as he slinks out of the grill, already pulling his phone out. Perhaps Alaric is around. Damon can usually appreciate his company. But unfortunately when the dark haired male is occupied with pulling up Alaric's contact in his phone, he's not paying attention. He's startled out of these thoughts, when his body barrels into another. It's enough force to send him stumbling back a few steps, his phone dropping to the concrete, and the person he'd bumped into, crashing to the ground. Just what he needed. A sigh bubbles past his lips and the vampire figures he may as well help. Apologize, he should of after all been looking where he was going. ''Here, let me help you up. You're not-'' Words die on his lips as his gaze flickers to who he'd crashed into. It's been years, hundreds, but he'd know that face anywhere. Amelia Thorne, and Damon feels his stomach knot. ''A-amelia?" He manages to splutter her name, his thick brows furrowing with confusion. Shock has frozen him immobile, and suddenly his previous worries don't seem as pressing. ''You died.'' He blurts the words out, shock evident in his tone. Perhaps little Gilbert wasn't the only one seeing ghosts.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

Aislin Munroe | Witch


She hated moving. Not just the for the fact that her entire life, Aislin Munroe had lived in New Orleans, surrounded by friends and family. She didn't just hate it for the tension it had caused between the dark-haired teen her single mother. But how could she not be angry? Everything she had made for herself in her sixteen years was in New Orleans. She had wanted to plan her future there. But, a month ago her mother, Lana, had decided to pack them up. Move six states away, to some small town called Mystic Falls, in Virginia. Apparently the dark haired girl's mother had gotten offered a job with some law firm. It paid better than the one she'd been working at in New Orleans. But it all still felt so... Sudden. Aislin had less than a month to say goodbye to the people she'd grown up with. Of course, this past month she'd also been voicing her dissent to Lana about the situation, though the single-mother had only promised her child that this change was, ''for the better'' and to, ''trust her''.

Their small Quarter apartment had sold rather quickly, and last week they had packed the last of their belongings into a moving truck, and drove all the way to Mystic Falls. They'd gotten in a few days ago; and were still in the thick of moving into the home. Of course, Lana had started her job the day after they arrived which meant so far- Aislin had done the brunt of the unpacking. Though to be fair, Aislin hadn't made much progress either. She was trying though. Today she had woken up around nine on her mattress on the floor as neither women had yet put together their bed frames, lazy morning sunlight filtering through her window. The young brunette had woken up to the silence of an empty house and it was likely that Lana was already down at the firm. So, she had gotten up, made herself some toast as the Munroe household was unusually barren in the food department at the moment and therefore choices were limited; and lazed on the couch for a couple hours with her phone, letting a few friends and family that she and her mother had gotten to Mystic Falls safely.

Once she'd grown bored of scrolling mindlessly through her social media handles, Aislin had decided to finish unpacking her room. She thought that, perhaps if she set up her room it would stop feeling as if she and Lana had moved into someone else's house, and it would begin to feel like home, and some of the tension which had recently mounted between mother and daughter, would dissipate. It was tedious work, but after setting her speakers up, her music filling the thick silence of the home, she quickly lost herself to the work. And by the time eleven rolled around, Aislin was about halfway done. And she'd admit, with her belongings laid out, the room did look a bit better. It didn't look so... foreign. Pausing for a moment the young woman smiled, her mossy depths flicking about the room as if to admire her handiwork. Perhaps she'd finish earlier than anticipated and have time to explore the town a little more. All her clothes were unpacked, hung up in the closet; and really all she had to do was unload her memorabilia, find new places for her trophies and pictures. She was trying to gather and stack some of the empty boxes to take out to the recycle when she could of sworn that beneath her music she heard a few sharp knocks came from downstairs.

Pausing her song, Aislin straightened up her brows furrowing together. Sure enough three more sharp knocks were delivered to the door. Was it the cable company? Lana said not to expect them until well in the afternoon. It was barely after eleven now. Neighbors? She didn't have time to wonder about it. The sooner she opened the door, the sooner she'd be left to unpacking the rest of the Munroe's clutter. She was swift to exit her room, her socked feet sliding a bit on the wooden floors in the hallways. As she hurried down the stairs she called out, ''Coming!'' She paused a bit as she neared the front door; pausing to glance over herself in the hallway mirror. Sweeping a few wayward locks of thick, dark hair Aislin wondered who could possibly stopping by already. Adjusting the hem of her shirt, and once deemed herself presentable Aislin hurried to the door, and opened it cautiously. On her doorstep was a male she'd never seen before. There was something about his airs that made the young girl feel a wave of trepidation, and leisurely his gaze fell onto hers.

He looked to be about her age, perhaps a couple years older. Stubble decorated his sharp jawline, as light and golden as the thick hair that crowned his head. A simple glance was enough to surmise that he was not a cable guy. No he seemed almost out of place in this neighborhood, which struck Aislin as odd. There was an impish gleam embedded into his sharp oceanic gaze that went rather well with the shadow of a smirk that touched his lips. In fact, Aislin couldn't help but wonder if perhaps this male had the wrong house; or was looking for the previous owners. ''Can I help you? There was a hesitation in her voice, a caution as the young woman tried to sort out what he could be doing here. Though she was only drawing up blanks. Something kept her just behind the threshold of her doorway, carefully regarding the unknown golden-haired stranger on her porch. Though beneath the caution, there was an open air of curiosity darkening her leafy gaze.

There are no words to describe the emotions that flooded Amelia when she'd heard Damon's voice. She'd wanted to pretend that, when she looked up and saw that the face matched the voice of the man she'd loved and lost, she wasn't affected. That wasn't the case at all, though. Tons of emotions ran through her, all at once, to the point that it was overwhelming. Shock, anger, betrayal, sadness, relief. Those were emotions she was certain of, ones that she understood but ones that should never mix. The waves of emotions were stronger for a vampire and, even so, she was frozen, eyes wide with confusion. This wasn't possible. And, when he spoke, she wanted to laugh, because he was seriously saying that she died. What about him? She wanted to scream, because seeing him again was driving her insane. How was this fair? She wanted to run, because she didn't want to see him, but she couldn't move.

When she finally found her voice, the first thing that she could even muster up saying was, "I wasn't aware you even knew about my death." And, it was true. Damon had been so obsessed with Katherine that she hadn't expected him to be aware of anything. Did he even know how she had died? Did he know that she'd been sick for almost a month, plagued with some illness that had made it difficult to eat or move or even sleep? Even if he did know that, she was certain he didn't know that Pearl had taken pity on her and fed her blood so that she could heal, only to snap her neck so that she would turn. No, that story was only hers and Pearl's to tell. Had he even gone to her funeral? Had he even cared that she'd died? She almost snorted, finding it impossible to believe that Damon had known about her death at all. If nothing else, he had likely just assumed she died with the passage of time, like most humans.

"I don't think you're one to talk about somebody being dead. I heard about yours and your brother's deaths all the way from where I went to escape Mystic Falls." Her eyes were narrowed, almost suspicious. It was like she expected Katherine to walk up at any moment and proudly announce how she still had Damon wrapped around her finger, even as a vampire. Amelia was sure of that much. Katherine had seemed to love play things and the Salvatore brothers had seemed like her favorite play things at the time. There was the possibility of her getting bored, sure, but Amelia was doubtful of it. Shaking her head, she looked down so that she could brush herself off, because it was the only thing she could really do to try to buy herself time to think of proper things to say.

The problem was, she couldn't think of anything. With how overwhelmed she was by her emotions and the fact that she was still trying to process that Damon was right there, right in front of her, words couldn't properly form in her mind. It irritated her, because she wanted to let everything out that she'd had bottled up all this time, ever since she had been human, but she couldn't bring herself to say anything. She couldn't even think of all the things she'd had bottled up since then; all of those memories seemed to escape her in the moment and the only ones that seemed to stay for now were the moments where she had been happy with Damon. There'd been memories of the pair joking and teasing each other, from their childhood all the way up to before Katherine stole Damon's heart.

"It's not fair." It was the first thing she could manage to say, and she lifted her gaze to narrow her eyes at him, but they lacked the anger she wanted to feel. "Why did you have to be here? Why is it that, when I finally come back to Mystic Falls, you're the first person I run into?" Why was she so unlucky? She should have stayed far, far away from Mystic Falls, like she'd been doing since 1864. If she'd stayed away, she wouldn't have to deal with all of this. She wouldn't have to face the inevitable pain that would come with seeing Damon again.

---

At first, Klaus might have suspected nobody to be home. He couldn't hear much aside from music from within the house for a few moments, but he eventually heard movement once he concentrated hard enough. Upstairs, somebody had been moving around quite a bit. From outside, he could hear floorboards creak, though he doubted such a noise would even be heard by a human in the room, much less outside where he was. The movement stopped and so did the music and he supposed they might have finally heard him knocking. It was a bit relieving, because he wasn't the most patient person alive. Well, as live as a hybrid could be, anyways. That thought aside, he listened to the movement leave the room and enter what he assumed was a hallway. The movement then proceeded down the stairs, though it paused some time between the stairs and the hallway. When the door finally opened, though, he was greeted by a female and, though his smirk was present, there was no malice in his expression like there normally would be under other circumstances.

"Hello, love," he greeted with a small nod, watching the girl for a moment before he tilted his head. Could she help him? Well, he wasn't certain. Right now, he didn't need any help, but it always was nice to have a witch at his beck and call. But, of course, he knew that wasn't what she meant. He doubted she even knew what he was. For a moment, he might have believed she was aware, due to the hesitance in her voice and the fact that she didn't seem to dare breach past the doorway, but there was no fear in her eyes, no recognition, and no suspicion. It seemed that she was merely curious and he supposed that curiosity was well placed, considering a stranger was at her doorsteps. The issue was that, although he might be a stranger to her specifically, he was certainly no stranger to her family. But, of course, he couldn't divulge this information so soon. No, that would likely just cause issues he didn't want to deal with right now and he certainly didn't want to have to explain himself.

Instead, he focused on the girl, eying her for a moment. "Might you perhaps be a member of the Munroe family?" There, that seemed as unsuspicious as he could possibly manage. "I'm a friend of the family, you see, and I owe them quite a debt, so I thought I'd stop by and check on them back in New Orleans. Except, I was then told that they had moved here to Mystic Falls. It wasn't difficult to find the supposed address, but I wouldn't want to speak to you about the debt I owe if you're not part of the Munroe family. That would just be absolutely outrageous." There was almost amusement in his voice, but, by looking at this girl, he was certain that she hailed from the Munroe clan of witches.

Her hair was dark and her eyes were bright and curious. From his past run-ins with Munroes, it seemed to be a common trait. But, there was clearly more to this girl than just dark hair and bright eyes. She was stunning, as were her ancestors, but there was something about her that even Klaus couldn't find words for. Considering his skill in weaving words together like art and music, the very thought that he couldn't find words that fit perfectly to describe this girl shocked him. Regardless, he maintained his composure, because there was no point in losing it merely because he couldn't find proper words. It wasn't as though he'd likely speak them aloud any time soon, anyways. For now, if he decided on the proper words, he'd keep them to himself; at least until he saw them fit to speak.

"I apologize, I've just realized how rude I am." His smirk curled into somewhat of a smile and he held his hand out to her, arching his brows. "I'm Niklaus Mikaelson, though Klaus seems to be a favorite nickname. Regardless of whether you're of the Munroe family or not, I couldn't possibly go without introducing myself." He eyed her for a moment, his eyes scanning over her features for any sign that she might recognize his name at all. Most witches knew it. Most supernatural beings in general knew it; his reputation was spread across the globe from his travels.