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Evelyn Sommers was sure that there was a higher power out there fucking with her. Although Mystic Falls seemed like a sleepy town, she knew there was something unnatural in the air. When she was a child, there were always certain spots that brought a horrible chill up her spine and she would begin to shake, much to her parents' concern. She never got over her fear of the quarry, despite Jenna's cajoling to join in, nor could she look at Jenna's boyfriend, Logan Fell, without wanting to throw up. Since her twentieth birthday, she's been seeing these men flicker in and out of view, dreaming of memories she was sure were not hers along with seeing this man slaughter people without a stain on his fitted suit.
That's not to mention that she was pretty sure she was not meant for this world even before a tattoo with the initials S.S. that just appeared on her left wrist when she woke up one day. Honestly, she was absolutely certain she was not of this world since the memories she sees sometimes contained frightening implications of vampires, werewolves and witches. She left the town soon after her parents' death in a camping accident when she was eighteen, only visiting twice a year in fear of her dreams coming true. But with the death of her older sister Miranda and her husband Grayson Gilbert, she should've known that it wouldn't have been easy to escape Mystic Falls.
Niklaus Mikaelson dreams of flickers of red hair and freckled skin and he longs. Even as a human, he knew that there was someone out there for him, and not even his father humiliating him for believing the gods would grant his weak son a wife kissed by fire could diminish his excitement. After all, Mikael was not even a witch like his mother, who told him that the one he dreamed of was his, as nature intended, and no mortal could ever claim to understand the gods' will. He remembered how his mother and father schemed with the witch Ayana before she, too, disappeared after Henrik's death. He didn't remember much after that other than the fact that his mother's magic was potent in the air, and he hungered. He remembered the way his mother's heart was warm in his hands once he realized that it was her fault he was cursed, his other half locked away.
He fled North America with his siblings, framing Mikael for slaying their mother as revenge against her. He fell into bed with Aurora de Martel, who's hair was too dark and her eye color not quite right to be his beloved dream but he pretended that, if only for a brief period of time, that he had his kærr with him. Even when they fled France with Mikael trailing after, he did not mind leaving Aurora. He could not fool his heart which longed for the woman he dreamt of, not the pale imitation he had. He painted her constantly, and raged when he couldn't get the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled right or the light in her eyes were too dull compared to the way the stars that swam in her eyes.
