#hunterblud

He had not planned for the hunter.

He'd noticed him before he even reached the building — caught the scent of woodsmoke and iron and something underneath it that made Niklaus go very still on the sidewalk for just a moment, frozen both in space and in time as images of centuries’ past flashed in front of him. The memories came as a result of the pit in his stomach, like a reflex hit at just the right angle to elicit an involuntary response. It was instinctual. Just the presence of this hunter alone screamed at him long enough to pay closer attention, but for now he disregarded the instinct. Not out of ignorance, but because he surmised the hunter was not an immediate threat to Niklaus’s life.

He redirected his attention back towards the vampires, noises of a commotion rising from inside the building. He started towards the fight, quietly approaching, though doubtful the vampires were adept enough to notice his presence and sustain themselves in combat. Niklaus considered it odd how this hunter chose to fight an entire nest himself, though he seemed to be holding his own. For now. Niklaus watched from the periphery longer than was strictly necessary — arms folded, shoulder against the doorframe, taking his measure. The man was good, no doubt. Economical. Precise. He'd taken down three before cornered against the back wall, and the odds shifted into territory that would've made most men run. But, of course, this one didn't.

Niklaus moved when the fourth one got its hands around the hunter's throat. Not out of altruism — he wanted the man conscious for the conversation he'd already decided they were going to have. He came in from the blind side, quicker than he should have been if he were what he intended to claim, but the room was dark and the hunter had been a little occupied. Niklaus decided to take his chances. Three down before the hunter had fully registered his presence, a stake finding its mark each time with a precision that left no room for scrutiny, as long as no one thought too hard about the speed.

Then quiet.

The hunter was still standing, which Niklaus could respect. He was bleeding, yet he wore the look of someone who was still watching him, looking like he was filing Niklaus under unknown variable. Good instincts, Niklaus thought. Of course he had good instincts. This was clearly someone who'd learned to think quickly under pressure.

❛❛ You were doing well there, mate, ❜❜ he said, with the air of someone who found the whole thing privately amusing, ❛❛ until you weren't. ❜❜ / @hunterblud

random headcanon questions, always accepting .

as always, another banger question by you because i have to put my thinking cap on, but i think klaus prefers europe overall. the architecture, the art, the culture is simply richer. worth noting, klaus lived through many of the world's most popular modern destinations and experienced its burgeoning beauty firsthand. the parthenon and the broader acropolis, he'd have experienced intact, colorful, lively. of course, the renaissance era was otherwordly: art, philosophy, political intrigues, the medicis, all lived through instead of learned. the fall of constantinople was also quite interesting and illuminating for klaus, having witnessed the downfall of such an empire. with each significant political turn, klaus learned a little more about human nature. my klaus is a deeply philosophical person, so places with rich culture and philosophy hold deep significance to him. he'll have also ventured into the eastern philosophies, finding something applicable in every large historical turning point.

but i think ultimately, he feels more steadied in places like florence, vienna, marrakech, prague, istanbul. many of these places still retain their original architecture and boast a proud artistic culture. small, windy streets, with different art pieces and vendors at every turn is klaus's bread and butter.

(     *     BARE BONES.

this is actually a really good question for klaus, and i think it wildly depends on the verse and the particular interpretation i have for him. in the tvd canon, we see glimpses of what he considers to be self-soothing hobbies, mostly in the arts. while he's never been taught to express his emotions verbally, he learned to sublimate that into his paintings. we usually see this with the particularly aggressive colors he chooses to work with, and how his pieces often span a darker or brutalistic theme than something calm and peaceful (though, of course, he's made a few of those). i quite like this interpretation to him (perhaps one of plec's few good ideas), and i think a proclivity for the arts and culture is something i'd grant to my interpretation of klaus too. it's probably one of the few things he appreciates from the mortal world. mortality inspires so many beautiful pieces too.

we also know klaus loves being a hybrid and thus feels greatly connected with nature when he turns. i like to imagine he'll run away into some deep woods somewhere where he can be alone for a night and simply exist like another thing in the wild. sometimes he'll hunt, sometimes he'll let the animals be. this is all to say that i don't think klaus has one particular place he'd disappear to. there is no 'his old estate in the backwoods of south carolina' or 'a small, lofty apartment in central london' style-answer.

his old nordic, mystic falls village is hardly a comfort to him either. it reminds him of the worst time in his life, where in spite of the close bonds he'd had with his family, he was forced to live as the weakest version of himself because his mother was too ashamed of her own affair to grant klaus a fair life.

"you're my kid," might be a line another parent could use. still, dean listens because has no choice. "i'm tryin' to keep you safe— you go rushin' out there, you might not make it back. i'm not takin' that chance, son."

dean laps the endearment up. maybe it's enough to knock him down a few pegs. john pretends not to notice, whilst he works on sharpening his machete. he doesn't look up once.

casually sweet munday,