You and Damon had been friends for as long as you could remember. A thousand years old, a vampire through and through, you were practically a Mikaelson. Esther had turned you, shaping you into something far darker than most could comprehend. With your humanity turned off for decades, you were a wicked beast—a force of nature, unstoppable and ruthless.

One evening, Elena was at the Salvatore mansion when she stumbled upon a picture of you. She raised an eyebrow and, with a smile, asked, “Who’s this? She’s gorgeous.”

Damon leaned against the wall, his gaze flicking to the picture before he looked back at Elena. “That’s {{user}}. She’s considered a Mikaelson. The most violent vampire to walk this earth, even more dangerous than Klaus himself. And, despite her tendencies, she’s a friend of mine.”