#jack blaylock x beloved

[terrence-silver]

I'm feeling pretty blue today - what would CK Terry (or any TIG characters you feel like writing about!) to do earnest, sincerely cheer up someone they love?

I wish you lots of elation and happiness. Hope these help. ❤️

---

― When Jan Valek met beloved he already knew it'll be a moment he'll memorize and cherish for the rest of eternity. He already knew beloved will be something or someone that'll bring only true goodness into his life. He equates them to the light of the sun he and his kind were bereft of for centuries. He equates them with everything that's still noble, genuine, warm and sweet about humanity at large even though he doesn't view other mortals in the most of favorable light exactly. He has this incredibly exalted and romantic opinion of them, so, oh, the idea they'd ever feel blue about anything when he puts them all the way up there with the stars --- well, it strikes him. It is like witnessing a beautiful flower being sad about something; it cannot be conceivable because it isn't the flower's intended purpose in the grand scheme of creation. He's all affection and worship, collecting every tear from beloved's face with his lips and fingers, hugging them to himself with both hands and hiding them in his cape. He coos them. Caresses them. Hides them. Reminds them that in his infinite glory, God didn't create them for moments of sorrow. He's created them for joy. In fact, such is the depth of Jan's comfort and consolation of beloved that it telepathically revibrates through the entire coven and all his children feel it too. Beloved's not only loved, they're embraced. He remains with beloved instead of retreating underground when daytime returns, finding some dark, concealed place where he can hold them for as long as needed, time truly being meaningless to him. He could do this for decades if decades was what it took. Centuries, even, if need be. Ultimately, he waits it out with beloved and his arms around them don't unclasp until he literally senses their blood, scent and pheromones sing out with a change of mood before beloved themselves even realizes that they're no longer quite as upset as they were before.

― Terry McCain would downright willingly and tactically make a fool out of himself it meant beloved will simply...oh...you know...crack a smile for him? Why is that? Well, when you're a hardened, hot-headed Chicago Detective who has a tendency of taking things too far, to the point of utilizing excessive force during investigations and arrests, the sensitivity training doesn't really come all that naturally and so he counter-acts this by goofing around, in ways, even if that means getting beloved an adopted fuzzy pet out of the blue, enduring a scolding even when he doesn't give them space to breathe because he wants them to tell him what's wrong or waiting in front of their locked apartment door for hours when they want to be left alone, notwithstanding the fact he's also likely to just, you know, break in. He will be nosy. He will be invasive. He will employ his own professional deformation and investigate to get to the bottom of beloved's bad mood in the off chance they refuse to tell him, but one thing is absolutely certain; He will never, ever, ever leave them alone during this bad time, even risking being ridiculous and possibly overbearing doing so. Which means beloved can expect a takeover of their own life during the period of their depression. They wake up, they find McCain prepping up breakfast, wrapping his oversized coat or scarf around on a cold evening walk, tucking them in next to the fireplace and being fully domestic, threatening to knock some joker's teeth if the cause of their upset came from another person, or hey, he might just jokingly bring up doing so to deliberately appear like some dangerous wiseguy and hopefully amuse beloved through his antics. He'll try so many things that statically, something's very likely to just entertain beloved enough, even if begrudgingly, to have them snort through their nose with laughter at him faced with a funny anecdote from his First Communion.

― Gus Travis is paranoid and he is convinced beloved's current bad mood has something to do with him and taking it a step further than that, he gets this agitated impression that their depression is a prelude to an array of more serious underlining issues that remain yet unspoken; like them wanting to leave him or at least really seriously pondering it just about now. That they're deeply unhappy by his side and if he doesn't do something now to prevent it, history will only repeat itself and he'll lose someone he loves. Again. Would he really survive that crap twice? He doesn't think so. All the signs are there, after all, with his past bad experiences only further exacerbating the issue to the degree that depending of how blue beloved is feeling and for how long, Gus might just take it as far as really seriously telling them they should leave. Run away together. From this life. From his associates. From his gang. His syndicate. Sever all ties to them. Cut loose. Break out on their own. Turn a new page. Start a new life elsewhere. Far, far from here. Head out to sea on a boat if they have to. Not say anything to anyone. Pack up the basics. Hop in their car and go. Just go. Meaning that Gus Travis is genuinely probably willing to quite literally erase everyone and disappear if it could potentially bring contentment to beloved and ensure that they'll stay together. Just the two of them. Man could very well be halfway through the State of Washington on an escape spree before the conclusion might arrive that he did not, in fact, have to practically run away to make beloved happy. A kind word would've sufficed. Maybe a hug. But, Gus is a man of aggressive impulse, with an impassioned, streetwise nature to boot. His dryland mermaid is sad and he's expected to just...handle it in stride without shooting someone in the head? Yeah, no. Before anyone puts two and two together, Gus and beloved are too far gone to ever be found, headed somewhere that is bound to make them happy.

― Terry Silver does anything to cheer up someone he loves. And I do mean anything. Therein lies the danger of someone he cares for being even slightly upset or depressed, because he'd stop at nothing. There's no boundaries. Nothing is too ridiculous. No such thing as 'too far'. And no, I don't just mean throwing excess money and acts of service on a problem until it goes away --- I mean, he'd literally abuse someone to make beloved laugh. He'd hurt someone. He'd hurt whoever hurt them; whoever he feels fucked up their sunny disposition because trust and believe he's ready to have an enemy. Just point at one. If you don't, he's capable of inventing one himself. Throw an expensive car in the mix, sure, as a cherry on top of a cake. Does beloved want real estate? A company? A private island? Do they want him to buy out half of Los Angeles? Do they need a lavish vacation to fix their mood? An encouraging pep talk worthy of a Sensei? Should he knock someone's teeth out while they watch? Should he avenge them to remind them just how adored they are? Should he kill? Drag someone's bruised and beaten body and drop them off at beloved's feet as homage like a devoted blood hound would? Should he fuck beloved? Please, kiss, lick and work their body until their physique registers it as happiness? His mind will be working overtime --- the gears in his brain spinning and spinning and Terry will be likely to cheer himself up at the prospect of all the things he could do. He giggles and snickers as he plans. It is honestly just safer to tell this man what it is likely to make you content so he can go ahead and just do it for you because if his mind wonders too far in its deviousness, he'll do some pretty unhinged things in the hope it'll cheer beloved you up. But, point here is; he'd do just about anything, yes and beloved will probably never be as upset and in need of uplifting that will ever match the distance Terry Silver is willing to go to uplift them.

― Going to go out on a limb and saying Cash doesn't immediately know how to cheer up beloved or anyone as for that matter because this is simply not something he ever frequently does or has to do. His line of work or lifestyle doesn't exactly demand this of him --- in fact, even when he himself's in a gloomy mood, he merely fixes it with a quick beer and just shutting the heck up about it until it goes away. But, just because it is underexplored, new territory for him doesn't mean he doesn't care to the point he's thrown off of balance, pacing back and forth around the room, absolutely exasperated, an annoyed hand in his hair, feverishly thinking of what he should do, his mood sinking to dark depths right alongside beloved. He doesn't sleep. He doesn't talk. Doesn't do anything. He can't think straight. He's capable of spending days in front of beloved's room, just sitting there like a watchful warden in a state of limbo, waiting for a single word from them, a sign, a signal, a hint, anything that could indicate they're doing better now, and until he gets that, he might as well rot into the arm chair he's nestled into for all he's concerned. Cash takes whatever's going on very much to heart even though it isn't outright visible or easy to immediately tell at all times, but one order out of beloved's lips is enough to put him into action there and then without a single bit of protest out of him. If beloved said 'Rob a bank. It'll make me happy.' man outright would do just that entirely wordlessly. He'd be there getting his gun, gloves and mask ready, making the necessary phone calls, gone within the hour and already back home by the time they've woken up from their daily depression nap. He cares immensely. He doesn't always know how to express it or act on it, but even when beloved's in an infinitely better mood it'll be days and even weeks before Cash wholly recovers from whatever it was that bothered them, even if he doesn't really talk about it.

― Jack Blaylock, or rather, Timothy Calloway sits down and genuinely talks to beloved about it. Yes. Talks. Although never doubt this man too would be prepared to go to some truly harrowing lengths to merely see the slightest shadow of a smile on beloved's face, I get this impression he fixes them a warm beverage, makes them a lovely, intimate meal for two and tucks in by their side on a cozy, quiet evening instead, the lights of the city sparkling in the distance through the windows because civilian problems require civilian solutions and beloved's a civilian, first and foremost; so, he approaches their sadness in a way he knows they'll respond to best psychologically, not wishing to frighten them with promises of knives, blades, guns, murder, carnage, gore and all the things he'd do to anyone or anything that would ever make them sad or encroach on their happiness. He tells them anecdotes. Tales from his travels. All the places he's been. Seen. Spirituality. Past lives. How this is all unsolved karmic baggage and in few days time, it'll seem like a distant matter that'll only grow more foggy as time passes but that he's here, interconnected with beloved through countless past lives, feeling every bit of dejectedness they themselves might feel. He's here to face the fray with them because they're soulmates and that's what soulmates do. It is genuinely the most intense and eye-opening conversation beloved's ever had. One of those goddamn near live changing chats that seem a bit dream-like and slightly haunting and strange the next day but beloved truly does feel better afterwards because Jack will literally talk them out of their sour mood. Of course, has to be said that there's a disturbing factor to all of this because it is almost like Jack saw into beloved's soul and just about scraped off whatever was bothering them singlehandedly. Was there something in the coffee he's made them? Something in his general air and manner, how he knows to handle people? The sex they had afterwards? Beloved cannot tell, but they do feel infinitely better.

[terrence-silver]

Jack Blaylock with a detective!beloved 👀

---

I can envision Jack convinced that if his Detective (emphasis on the his) has been tailing him for as long as they have, it is entirely with a reason.

That their paths were meant to connect. Converge.

In the infinitely complicated pattern of life, with every murder, assassination, unresolved case or mutilated carcass Jack Blaylock leaves in his wake, his beloved, who has been on his track for months, maybe even years to no avail, keeping on eye out on his handiwork with every newly opened police file his killing sprees puts up for investigation, coming so close to catching him and connecting the dots, but never quite managing, following in his shadow dragged forward by the red thread of fate and not even realizing that same piece of string leads back to him every time. How could they, after all? They don't know him. Not the way he knows them, having observed them and the devoted work they've been doing. As a result, I almost imagine Jack killing with the intention of keeping his beloved hooked on these cases. On bringing the perpetrator to justice. Playing a one-sided game of cat and mouse. Case shut.

It's his profession, but it can't mean it cannot prove to serve multiple purposes.

He wants them to come forward. Research crime scenes he leaves behind. Take photographs. Pin up newspaper clippings of the incidents. Write meticulous reports. Swap notes back and forth with Forensics. Dedicate time and effort to uncovering the culprit. Work overtime. Be passionate. Be frustrated when there's no clear-cut answers. Get drawn into the gruesome mystery. Get drawn into him long before they ever even know it's him who's doing all of this. Long before they have a name or even a face to go off of or any sort of concrete evidence. He supposes it's meant to be. A karmic connection. That they know each other from somewhere and that's why they're drawn to each other like this. That's why Jack feels he has the compulsion to do this. That's why he's convinced beloved wants to bring him to justice as badly as they do even before he started remotely encouraging that trait in them.

Instant recognition. From a past life, it seems. Regardless of circumstances.

Every slice is for them from there on out. Every beheading. Backstabbing. Shot at point blank range, execution style. Jack does it with beloved in mind, envisioning their shock at his brutality, their abject sadness, even their professional facade suppressing their personal feelings so they wouldn't lose their mind when faced with the gore --- everything --- he ponders the diligent hours dedicated to precise analysis, lab results, their antiseptic latex covered hand lingering on every slash he made. Every wound. Every scar. It'll be as close to touching him personally as they can get. It's like being together, in ways. It's a love letter to them. He might tactically meet them at some bar downtown as a perfect stranger once they're tired from all the work he's been putting them through needing a weekend break and he might just introduce himself, offering to buy them a drink, no strings attached. Everyone needs to blow off some steam, right?

The evening will blur into a fog of pleasant, noneventful conversation.

Fueled by a little bit of alcohol (his treat, of course), slow swaying on the club's dancefloor and a lot of unwinding (after all, Jack knows what he's been dragging them through), they could just share a tiny kiss or a little bit of affection because Jack seems to say all the right things at all the right moments, getting under beloved's skin seamlessly, appearing like not much more than an entirely normal guy. He might even disappear before the night is over and leave beloved wondering where that guy they just met has gone off to without a goodbye or without leaving any discernable contacts behind now that the weekend is drawing to a close and they have to get back to the usual routine of their job tomorrow morning at the station, never even catching on to how close they got to the man who has possessed their every waking work hour of the week or the person who's been leaving a trail of blood behind engulfing the better portion of beloved's career.

Naturally, Jack will never stop.

At least not until he decides he and beloved should meet face to face.

Without pretenses this time.

Or at least until beloved figures everything out on their own.

After all --- if it's meant to be, it's meant to be.

[terrence-silver]

Had a idea of jack baylock taking pictures of beloved with blood on them just making them pose for him while they blood on there lips or body,and he loves it they are just his bloody angel and he will keep the photos for himself for later ofc not letting anyone see them because he took the pictures it for his eyes only he probably put them all in a book or something

---

Would be on-brand if beloved didn't even really know the blood's blood or that there's anything nefarious about this whole thing. They don't have to be naive or overly innocent to be tricked like this. They merely aren't a psychopath who'd ever anticipate something like this happening to them.

When they meet Jack, they think he's a private detective who, for the sake of this scenario, lets say, does amateur photography every once in a while the way any random schlub with a camera might do photography and that that red paint they're smearing over their lips, body, face or clothes is just that...red prop paint for the sake of an aesthetic. Totally harmless, right? No different from thematic make-up. A bit of edgy, macabre fun. It is certainly far more common to believe that red substance is fake than real, no? He's an American. He's in a city as big and colorful, extravagant and artistic as Tokyo. Him enjoying immortalizing things in an equally colorful, extravagant and artistic fashion? Not a hard story to sell. Certainly, in the sea of lies he tells, like lying about his very name, what he actually does for a living behind his front and fake identity or that he was in jail multiple times for several high-profile assassinations, saying 'hey, darling, pose while I take a couple of shots' almost comes off like a mundane, commonplace thing between lovers. If beloved does it, they can very easily do it without outright realizing they're smearing the blood of his actual victims over themselves or that Jack preserves these images like a trophy or a gruesome, gory memento, the blood of the hits he killed almost functioning like an indirect homage he dedicates to beloved to put over themselves like a victorious, triumphant muse to the crimes they never even realize he's doing and documenting for his most private keeping and that people's blood starts existing as an accessory to beloved's beauty and person in his mind. Jack's not unlike the worshipper, and the clueless beloved? Not unlike his deity. His angel. It all goes into his personal collection, all these images taken --- and what's worse? Beloved might've entirely willingly consented to all of this never realizing what they've agreed to and that they've effectively become an asset to god knows how many deaths.

Too bad, though.

Jack might be convinced their bond was destined to be.

So them being immortalized in his terrible crimes like this?

Immortalized in everything he ever did? Ever intends to do?

Things he never even realizes he'll do?

It was written long before either of them were even born.

[terrence-silver]

Kinda need more Jack Blaylock and Terry McCain headcons with beloved! How would they coax beloved into their own worlds ? Love your writing btw🖤

― Terry McCain wants you in his world because his world, namely, the world of someone employed in law enforcement, is the right place to be. Being by his side if not always the most stable due to the valid dangers of being a detective and a detective's significant other, is the morally upright spot to be seated at in life, so prudently, it goes without saying that if not by coaxing you, Terry will literally break into the bubble of your existence and drag you into his, because keeping you safe and sound while he's close by is still somehow more secure than you being all alone, without him. Sure, you might be stubborn, difficult or reluctant (and that doesn't deter him in the slightest; he might even like it) or hey, you could even be fully willing and cooperative, but see, he's the good guy here and you're good too. Good folks should stick together. His duty, the way he sees it, is literally to protect civilian peace and I'm afraid that counts too you. That counts you too and it counts you with extreme fervour --- his professional deformation bleeding into all he does, even courtship and love. Terry has a bit of a hotheaded hero complex to him too, undeniably, so he might feel he is doing right by you by ensuring you're by under his watchful eye. He brings up a very excellent argument that it is scary out there and that he can and will keep everything bad far, far away from you. Is he willing to utilize some manipulation to achieve this goal? Yes. Yes, he is. Every trick in the manual cleverly concealed as worry and a protective instinct. But, really, for all he's concerned, it is your fault for not listening when he has such nice intentions at heart. He's not a bad man, not by any means --- Terry McCain just doesn't like losing.

― Jack Blaylock, or rather Timothy Calloway, doesn't want beloved in his world because his world is downright deadly. See? Not even the name he goes by comes with any simplicity; false and double identities, jail time, murders for hire, contract killing, the underworld and all its many rules, shady deals, spying, executions, crime syndicates, international business organizations and high profile killings that make headlines --- these are all things Jack has dabbled into and still continues to dabble into, so he very much realizes you don't belong in his world, because a crucial part of his world includes carnage, instability, hiding, being on the run, living an existence hidden in plain sight and much, much worse and he can't, for as much as he wants to, offer you any semblance of what would be considered a normal life. Sure, he might fantasize and daydream about it. He might indulge himself in reveries. Enjoy what time he feels he has with you, but Jack is also unusually selfless considering that he's a hitman; he is very willing to let his beloved go for beloved's own safety. Run away with them, at best, sure --- but a rookie he is not. He gets that running away from what he does isn't exactly achievable or sustainable no matter how badly he wants it. A firm believer in reincarnation and the fact that souls fated for each other find and recognize each other in every life, he is comforted by the fact that you and him will meet again, under different and easier circumstances and while his world right now, in this life, isn't a world he can entirely share with you because it is dangerous, a better world is coming, Jack is convinced, and he will see you on the other side. He is likely to disappear and watch beloved from afar.

[terrence-silver]

What if Jack Blaylock's beloved was just like him ..in a few ways. They are skilled with weaponry, capable of protecting themselves without weapons too. A bit rebellious at times. How would this kind of relationship go for him?

Eh, the plot of Mr. and Mrs. Smith happens ---- more or less? Where sure, renowned undercover hitman posing as a civilian detective in his day life, Jack Blaylock, real name, Timothy Calloway, might've seemingly quaintly settled down with his beloved in an otherwise unassuming domestic existence and co-partnership of the most 'nothing strange to see here' variety, and while they might indulge in the common and downright banal nuances of daily existence, such as sharing daily meals and dinners; while one room in their house might be all pots and pans and a tame familial atmosphere of a kitchen, a hearth and a home, the other, firmly under lock and key, might be riddled with Jack's and beloved's now shared collection of swords, knives, guns and equipment of a less tame persuasion.

[terrence-silver]

What signature moves do TIG's characters have (any that you want, but as always I'm partial to CK Terry and Cash) when trying to seduce beloved for the first time? I know that most mortals would hop into bed with him without him needing to lift a finger, but let's say for argument's sake beloved doesn't want to seem easy.

---

― For Terry Silver, one would think his signature move of seduction is flaunting his wealth, money, connections, mansions, cars, material possessions and himself too primarily, because, well, he's Terry Silver and he knows entirely the effect he has on people, a factor he majorly and very gleefully exploits at any given opportunity, but I feel strategies like this are ironically reserved for individuals and situations he has an entirely transactional leaning towards. You scratch my back, I reward you for your due diligence once you deserve it because nothing's for free. He's a shrewd businessman and Machiavellian after all and some things in life are strictly business. For people he genuinely likes, though? His seduction equals with big promises he entirely intends to make come true to their fullest and then some. Promises of everlasting devotion. Protection. Fealty. Pretty much fixing someone's life from the bottom up. Helping his person get away with bloody murder, if need be. You name it. Terry flinches from nothing. Never. He's a shockingly gracious and stubbornly forthcoming person to be loved by when you really think about it. At his most honest, Terry can be as blunt and transparent as grabbing someone by the shoulders, looking right into their eyes and just openly telling them everything he intends to do for them for the rest of their life, always, and then staying true to his word with every fiber of his being seeing as how he makes it his life's mission to do right by his beloved. If that isn't enough to not only seduce someone but make them swoon with intoxicated wonder and bewilderment, then I don't know what will.

― In the case of Terry McCain, jumping into bed isn't paramount to him, because in his own words, vaguely paraphrased from memory, that isn't a priority to him and he's not that kind of guy. Even though, validly, he could get all the action he wanted if he wanted. Thing is, he doesn't want it. Not from just anyone. Only one special person. Catholic principles, huh? As such, his signature move is poised more on love and how he achieves that is by being available for his beloved whenever and however --- whether they agree to it or not. Which means this man will almost stubbornly be in beloved's shadow, tail them, be close at hand, pester them to a degree if need be and pretty much insert himself into their life until he's accepted by them however long it takes. Breaking into their life, privacy and sphere, literally and figuratively isn't entirely out of the question either. He is stubborn, he is temperamental and he won't give up until the subject of his affection accepts him and his advances; a tactic slightly contradictive for a man who's existence is dedicated to the upholding of law and order. But, you see, Terry doesn't think he's doing anything wrong or that he's even some sort of sleaze with ulterior motives who's committing a crime of passion. Not like those lowlives on the streets he apprehends. He is himself and they're...them. No, no, he seduces by being consistently there until it becomes a given he's sleeping with you. And eventually? You'll simply have to understand and accept just how much he cares for you. That he's the best for you. Always was. Just took him never giving up for you to see it.

― Gus Travis is a gangbanger and his method of seduction is, initially at least, typically streetwise and the approach any tatted up bad man in a leather jacket with a gun tucked into his jeans would go for; a hint of danger, a hint of sexiness, coming at you first and doing so boldly, buying you a drink or five, putting his arms around you, heated banter, flirting very openly, jealously getting in your space and ensuring every other person within eye distance steers clear of you because for the time being, this is his turf. But, it ain't that simple, because Gus has layers to him and while he might seem like a dangerous, detached criminal sort (and god knows he is) the very process of the seduction it takes to get you into bed might just hit Gus harder than the very subject of the seduction and he very well could end up smitten with you when it was you was supposed to be enchanted by him first and he might end up smitten way before he gets anywhere near second base. Man falls into his own trap, in a sense, and yeah, suddenly, getting to fuck you simply isn't enough anymore. He's here thinking being exclusive, claiming you, making you the Bonnie to his Clyde, tattooing your face over his heart, marriage, being partners in crime, and for all we know, sailing the seven seas with you in a boat bearing your name. His imagination runs wild and he seduces himself where you are concerned. Man's actually pathetically in love and he gets to this state awfully quickly. What starts out as him trying to get into your pants might just result in being tied to him in matrimony a week from then.

― Jack Blaylock's signature move of seduction is being relatable. Being more or less just some guy working as a PI out abroad. Posing himself as interesting enough to be peculiar and catch the attention of those who seek him out and even those who don't, with a dash of being seemingly ordinary enough to feel secure. Being that whiff of civilian normality, safety and the known in an unknown place. You could almost be relieved wherever you're travelling in the world that you stumbled upon a kindred spirit like him in a sea of strangers and that as a result, you've someone to share similar topics with, similar interests, anecdotes, worldviews, desires, but little do you know Jack, or rather Timothy, deliberately placed himself on your path and designed whatever persona he presents to you to intentionally appeal to you so far from your roots. To get you to trust him. Open up to him. Come to him for help and advice. Put your guard down. To give him the chance to befriend you. Sure, act the honeypot by taking you to bed and making it seem like a spontaneous development of things. This is a professional deformation of his, being an undercover Hitman --- utilizing subterfuge to get a target disarmed. Not that you're a target...but in a way, yeah, yes you are. You're his target. The prime target. The target that matters most. So, fact is, Jack will literally befriend you straight into seduction, into his bed and then right into his crosshairs.

― When it comes to Cash, I don't figure he seduces --- he just takes. Because, keep in mind, he's not the oratorial type. He isn't a schmoozer. He won't charm in the classical sense. He won't act slick. He won't be braggadocious. He won't utilize big words. Sometimes even no words at all. He won't jump through verbal hoops of fire to knock someone off their feet because that's just not in his character to do. His signature 'move' isn't him being any sort of Casanova. His signature move is his quiet audacity. The fact he'll know all your whereabouts. The in's and out's of your life. Your comings. Goings. That he'll totally abuse the privileges of his badge to discover all he can about you. What's the worst that can happen? He'll get suspended? Heck, he already got suspended for much, much worse. That he'll watch. Observe from afar. In broad daylight, if need be. Yes. Stalk. And he doesn't even particularly care if it's stalking. He developed an interest and this territory? You in it? It's all his. One step at a time, without beloved, beloved you even noticing he slips closer and closer to the target and by the time you two officially 'meet' you'll never really know that Cash has already met you months ago and knows everything there is to know about you. Who would've thought? He seems so unassuming too. Strong, silent type. Cop. The way you 'met'? Undoubtedly just as unassuming and day-to-day ordinary to the degree there's no discernable tactic one can single out for Cash to use. He just appears in your life. And yet, all the strategies he utilized to get there were undoubtedly a web of complex machinations tucked behind a silent facade that ensure you'll never even put two and two together that this man basically besieged your whole life and virtually took you hostage a long time ago.

― Jan Valek doesn't have signature moves in the modern, contemporary understanding of it all. Man's medieval. Quite literally speaking. His manner is medieval. His view of things is medieval. And his approach is, in weird ways, medieval too, regardless of the fact he's been alive for six centuries; much of him hasn't changed and remained frozen in time, just like he himself has. There's something almost chivalrous to him in spite of him being quite literally The Father of the Damned. There's something worshipful and adoring as he presses a lingering kiss to his beloved's hand, talks about them in highly idealistic and poetic terms and looks at them like they hung the stars and the moon itself on the sky right from the get go, mixing raw eroticism with an anachronistic, near courtly feel for romance, quite literally loving them into seduction and it could, technically, taking a vampire's innate, supernatural charm into consideration, take him no time at all to consummate beloved, as such, his trick, if it can even be called a trick, on how he gets beloved to open up for him like a blossoming flower is by downright wooing them like they're heavenly perfection itself and in his eyes --- they are. None of this is a ploy or a ruse. Manipulation. Strategy. For Jan Valek, this is absolute honesty. His undead heart wholly and entirely on display. So, if beloved gives in, it'll be genuinely because of how unabashedly lionizing and reverent Jan Valek is towards them, bordering on deification. After all, how many people, immortal or mortal will compare the subject of their interest to God's light and the Sun itself and actually mean it?

[terrence-silver]

Jack Blaylock x beloved ..."You didn't have to kill him, I would have handled it.." beloveds angry shoving at him showing her teeth. A colleague was hitting on her and that didn't end very well...how would he handle beloveds anger ??

Jack Blaylock would expect beloved's anger, because he isn't delusional.

He knows the professional deformations of his ''job'' are dark, gruesome and abnormal, so when he kills, going on a freelance private hit or doing so for money, the anger is warranted and he comes to beloved fully knowing they will freak out. He is almost honorably poised about it. If he could practically bow his head like some sort of old timey Samurai and say 'Yes, I've killed, but I've killed for you. I ask for no forgiveness. You think I'm sorry for that guy? Well, I ain't.' he literally would, and he probably does too, because while other morbid characters of his calibre might be going around justifying the messed up nuances of their lifestyle, he isn't going to, because he already understands being a professional killer who lived in and out of jail with multiple fake identities is something horrible to be outside the bubble of his world. He's fully cognizant and even solemnly melancholic about it. He knows who he is and what he does and how he reacts when someone his is touched --- and unfortunately, that involves murder.

Violence.

Jack Blaylock isn't surprised that beloved thought they could handle it solo either, because they all always say that. 'I can handle it', with words and diplomacy and being level headed and they simply never do. Sadly, a great many solutions to a problem for one Jack is the most extreme of actions. None of this is surprising, no. Not beloved's anger, their proclamations of independence, their shock, their ire, their sadness. Literally, as a character, Jack Blaylock is frighteningly self-aware. He's even self aware about the fact him killing beloved's coworker might lead to distance and him losing beloved because beloved wouldn't want to be around someone who goes around literally murdering anyone he deems a threat to their safety. Jack is willing to accept that as well. He sits there on a sofa after the deed is committed and the police already hauled away the massacred body under the pretense it was some hideous gang-related crime and Jack just silently takes the brunt of beloved's lashing. It is warranted, he thinks and really, it is.

What they fail to understand, that he would do it again.

And he will.

He'll kill for beloved, anyone he deems fit.

He kill and look after them even when they're apart.

Even if they're angry with him.

Even if they love him.

Even if they never forgive him.

Even if they find in their heart to do so.

Jack might entirely calmly proclaim that he has zero regrets in doing what he did because beloved 'has been his before either of them were even born and nothing will change that'. They were soulmates that were simply pre-destined to be together long before they met or long before their paths crossed, so really, in the grand scheme of things and the cycle of reincarnation Jack seems to believe in, removing an ant that bothered them is nothing considering they will be together in ever life, always. If Jack's love with beloved fails in this life due to unprecedented circumstances and him murdering someone, there's always the next one, and to Jack, that's not delusion either, because he truly, honestly believes this.

[terrence-silver]

Mr. Blaylock comes home one day to see his beloved acting a little nervous, she's hiding something. Truth is she's been watching him, she sees his skills when he fights, with or without a weapon and well she's intrigued. Would he teach her if she asked him to?👀 this is lil ol me being curious about his view on the martial art techniques his mastered and beloved wanting to know it too. Admiring his skills and the way he carries himself

I think he'd limit it to showing beloved how to use a gun or maybe some easy hand to hand skills in the most basic sense, for self-defense reasons of the entirely practical kind --- but actually show them how to fight, use knives, use a sword, use a blade?

No.

To Jack Blaylock, these are the tools of a killer and he associates them with his own profession. He associates them with stabbing, beheading, strangling, slashing, maiming, carnage and overall the most gruesome sorts of violence you can possibly imagine. He's the killer --- his beloved doesn't get to be the killer. He won't let them. He won't give them the knowledge to become one, even by accident. That world isn't for a person like them, even though he very much wants to possess them and drag them down into his own darkness and consume them. But, he doesn't let them learn too much where actual skills are concerned. As such, beloved's conveniently separated from the worst of it. Would he roleplay around it, though? Maybe tease teaching them and never actually doing so? Trace a katana across beloved's shoulder blades as he describes what it can do and what it has done before --- puncturing the skin a little and tasting their blood. Maybe push the tip of a knife between their lips and merely explain how this tool could kill. Place a gun between their legs and tell them all about the barrel's recoil. Use the handle of a sword to get them off, confessing to them how it was used for murder countless times before, but never yet for pleasure and the blade hungers for beloved too, much like Jack does. Showcase a garrote and mention how there's a thin line between bringing someone to erotic ecstasy and actually murdering them with the strangulation thread. Lets them watch him while he spars, in full protective gear. Taking a kitchen knife and cutting a ribbon off of beloved's dress off or maybe a lock of their hair as they cook together --- how playful and domestic. Jack introduces beloved into his world and tools of trade, but only halfway, through the language of morbid sensuality. Seduction. He almost makes it seem romantic. Never goes over the threshold, into the actual thing --- never shows them how to use any of the actual weapons effectively. Does he sexualize said weapons, for beloved's eyes only? Yes, he does.

[terrence-silver]

Can you share some your favourite yandere headcanons about Jack Blaylock? 💓🔪

― Jack doesn't want his beloved to have any part of his lifestyle and possibly not even any knowledge of it whatsoever, relegating them to a series of hotel rooms, rented spaces, rented, suspicious accommodations, shady apartments (that are actually safehouses, which beloved has zero knowledge of, thinking this is simply revenue like any other) and chances are beloved's moved around a lot, too much even, even going as far as switching entire countries and continents at times, as he keeps the details of his dealings deliberately murky and even stubbornly evasive. What they don't know cannot possibly hurt them. But, in his world, even the things beloved doesn't know can ensure they're collateral of blackmail fodder. He's a professional, international hitman, after all, and as such, he has a great many enemies, both from his employers and rivals alike. Beloved is like an exposed, gaping weakness. As such, Jack Blaylock goes out of his way to maintain them a secret for their own good.

― Maintaining a secret that is a fully fledged relationship on the downlow, and possibly Jack's only connection to normality and a commonplace civilian life that doesn't involve crime, murder for her and killing comes with a cost, though. Especially for beloved; they're something of a hostage to a professional executioner that is convinced he's doing the right thing. Probably the only right thing he's done in a while. Or ever. That he's a benefactor to somebody who deserves it. That he's safeguarding someone ordinary, and by extension pure for being ordinary --- the only perquisite for purity being not belonging in his world. The entrapment is never glaringly obvious, though and it comes in the form of his over protectiveness, fiercely territorial overattachment and even at times a frenzied disposition whenever beloved wants to do anything at all. He tends to get visibly agitated, beady eyed and sweaty like stress is pouring out of his pores at the mere thought of beloved being unsupervised. In potentially harm's way.

― Jack oscillates between over-smothering beloved with his presence and absolutely wanting to disappear from their life, without any trace whatsoever. Leave them in peace. Thinking that he being present in their sphere is only trouble and by extension more trouble than it is worth by mere association to a man such as himself. He's both the most selfish and most unselfish person ever. He doesn't think he deserves love, and at the same time, he'd literally rather kill beloved and then himself if he cannot have it. Which he has contemplated a great many times non ironically as a way out for both him and the one he loves. He sees death as a sort of a great equalizer. There's no escaping the lifestyle of a hitman for hire. There's probably no chance for a normal life, unless he changes his identity, which he has already done, going between Jack Blaylock, and his real name, which is Timothy Calloway. As such, Jack romanticizes death to worryingly fetishistic, eroticized degrees. Escape through death? Rebirth through death? Second chances through death? A clean slate through death? Love through death? Love and death? These are concepts closely intermingled with each other in his world.

[terrence-silver]

Ooh I have another jack Blaylock one after the previous ask 🥺. So beloved inevitably falls in love with him, even though he captured her and so on, regardless he did protect her. She decides to tell him that but he comes back that night in a bad mood and a bit injured. Beloved heart breaks at the site of his blood leaking out of a wound on his precious face. So she tries to let go of the topic when he notices the change in her behavior and she doesn't want to tell him right now. How would he get the truth out of her ?👀 I love this man😭😭

Jack Blaylock and love? Complicated.

From one end, I think he is a firm believer in things such as destiny, soulmates, recognizing a fated bond from a past life, 'living as a man and woman should live', which he even says himself, yet at the same time, despite of an almost overly romantic, highly idealized approach towards love, I also think Jack fundamentally doesn't believe he deserves all of this, despite craving it with all his being. Not truly. Why? Because he's an international murderer for hire. A hitman. An executioner for pay. He both very much yearns for love and yet he is both entirely willingly to abandon beloved for beloved's own safety (Perhaps, there will be better chances in another life?), kill them and keep them with himself forever that way, trap them, abduct them and any other number of entirely extreme measures. His approach towards his own emotions are just as excessive as he is. He would be entirely prone to murdering beloved to 'meet them again, in another lifetime and be reunited with them' and this is a morbid, destructive zeal he absolutely believes in, almost religiously so. To him, it is killing as much as release. Reincarnation to meet your fated one once more, under better circumstances? Yes. Again, a belief he undoubtedly picked up during his more nefarious excursions and jobs around Asia as a whole.

So, he already knows he loves beloved.

It is destiny. Kismet.

Does beloved love him? Is a confession even needed?

I think he is a professional and he knows he's effectively Stockholmed his victim into loving him and becoming attached, but he doesn't tend to be quite as crass; he prefers to view it as him worming his way into beloved's heart, so beloved doesn't even need to say 'I love you'. Full circle. The ends justify the means. He already knows. Maybe he even mocks and teases it, in a sense, when he returns to the safehouse or hideout after a slightly more risky job than usually, that has left him wounded and bleeding --- not that he minds. This is just another day in the week for him. He's had worse too. Seen worse. Caused worse. -"What's wrong? You look so worried. Concerned for your loverboy?"- and -"Why should you care that your abductor is all messed up, huh? You should be happy. You love me, don't you?"- Jack makes the confession instead of beloved in any situation, because he can already tell, by their behaviour, reactions and expressions --- their very body-language --- that they're affected by what happens to him. They probably care what happens to him more than he himself does, so, really any amount of wounds and pain he sustained during this hit is worth it. He might've murdered a foreign dignitary and his wife. An ambassador and an ambassador's bodyguard. A politician. Maybe the incident is all over the news, worldwide. No matter. This is a sort of war.

Jack's already won something, though.

Because he has found his soulmate.

[terrence-silver]

You gave me the go ahead so let's gooooo!! So just after the last scene in the movie , Jack leaves the city ,already getting his identity changed and stuff. He starts working as an assassin for another person and soon finds out that Erica died a few weeks after the incident that took place. Whilst on a killing spree , he catches beloved watching him murder someone. He goes after her and holds her captive . She's afraid of him and doesn't want to even be near him. How would Jack make her his. What would he do if the person he is working for finds out that he saved a witness which was totally not part of the deal. He learnt from his mistakes when things went wrong with Erica, but beloved is different, she's a contrast to Erica in some ways, though she is stubborn like her. She's tan skinned and she was just a simple girl who loves to laugh and be with her friends, she just happened to stumble upon a murder scene on her way home from a party ....👀😭sorry this is so long my brain is a wreck for tig! Thank you

I think Jack believes in destined soulmates recognizing each other.

Lovers from past lives ---- he even says so himself, to Erika.

Considering how gruesome he is, he is something of a spiritualist and a romantic.

He supposes it is no accident beloved has stumbled upon his crime scene. It was meant to be, in a way. The reason why things failed with Erika make sense now in ways they perhaps haven't to him before --- because the thing with Erica wasn't the thing and the failure of that connection could've only made Jack more jaded --- darker somehow. He knows beloved, he feels, even though this the first time they've ever met under the worst of circumstances, no less. As such, he rationalizes the reason for sparing her instead of immediately killing her and getting rid of a witness to tie all lose ends is not without reason either, even though he knows it would have been prudent. He hesitated. He hesitates because this is his person. He holds her captive because this is no accident. Beloved belongs to him. He would be very clear about that and he would vocalize it to beloved. Beloved's life is his and he wants something in return and that's beloved's heart --- either figuratively or literally and that's up to beloved to decide. And make no mistake, Jack would be entirely willing to have beloved alive by his side, kill her and have her in eternity and await another life to be reunited with her in a better situation (and live as a man and woman should live), he's willing to maintain keeping her prisoner (and hopefully Stockholm Syndrome her into loving him back), start a new life with her under his changed identity (something he does frequently) --- basically, no outcome is something he would fret over because he's morbid, he's bloodthirsty, he has an innate belief system, he has an inherent fascination with death (that verges on fetishization) he's dark, and unhinged, and he's the type to have beloved dead or alive and beloved can be with him dead or alive too. Beloved can stay with him, with new aliases and travel the world while he takes and completes his killing contracts or beloved can be an immaculately maintained and preserved corpse he tends to and treats like one treats the living.

The choice is beloved's.

[terrence-silver]

Please share any fics you have for Jack Blaylock 😩 I'm desperate

Here's a really niche one for starters --- believe it or not, it is a Vampire!Jack Blaylock ficlet I wrote for the lovely @atmostories aeons ago on Discord. Enjoy! 🖤

―

Eight generations have utilized this coffin before him. Eight in full. Now it was his turn.

Yours, alongside him.

You belonged in there with him, of course, regardless of your fragile humanity - your tender mortal state. Your fear of the dark, confined spaces and the natural aversion towards all things related to death and the afterlife that plagued all of your kind since time immemorial, Jack Blaylock by chosen alias, and Timothy Calloway by true name, dragged you in behind himself, practically pushing you into the shiny, soft black velvet cushioned filling of his wooden mote, tightly-confined and inviting. Home. Not enough space for two. Not the way it was intended or designed, per function, but he figured he could make do, if you lay on top of him. Or beneath him. It was always better beneath him. He could press himself into you, each crevice, curve and nook of your body, with more ease. Have you whole. Enjoy you entirely. There was a certain advantage of to the lack of space. Either ways, struggling and pleading with him while he tackled you inside and placed his body firmly over yours as you shirked, kicked and wiggled, closing the heavy, decorative lid over the both of you, he figured it was time you accepted your fate and went to sleep. You'd be in here, hidden, with him, in the warm, pitch blackness, after all, for the remainder of the upcoming twelve hours of sunlight, after all. Every day, until he turns you. Then you'd slumber beside him simply because you must, much like him.

Despite his legendary status, not even Timothy Calloway could hunt by day. And he needed his rest - he very much required his replenishment.

Still reeling and bloody from the smears and thrill of his previous kill, well - He felt needy, down there, with you, in the dark, your crying turning into whimpers. Whimpers into labored breathing, and labored breathing into the occasional reluctant sniffle. So vulnerable and sweet, tracing your neck's outline with the tip of his nose was an easy feat. His mother always taught him never to play with his food - to merely eat it instead. So, biting through the soft, delicious flesh was only a given.

Sucking and lapping up your blood.

You tasted like paradise.

-"Sh, sh, sh - don't be scared. Feel me. I'm right here, beside you."-

He whispered into your ear, as softly as he could muster, the small scope of the coffin's interior rendering his tone of voice far deeper then it intended to be when he sensed your elbow weakly knock into the side of the coffin with a thud, as you tried to grapple out of his embrace and crawl free somehow, as Jack deliberately pressed his desperate hardness against you, rocking into you for dear life, rubbing up into your body, trying to find some manner of release where there was none to be had, admittedly excited and irked by the sheer lack of room to relieve himself properly and take you as he wanted to, the self-denial heightening his pleasure and his impatience alike - massaging the freshly-induced bite wound with his saliva-coated tongue with a low, feral growl. This was worse then being tied up or restrained and he, for all intents and purposes loved toying with his food as much as he occasionally didn't. Now was the time to indulge in both accordingly. You, the love of his unlife, were making him greedier then he ever remembers being. And he was fairly greedy.

-"Please - Let! Me! Go! This is insane! Please! I want out! Let me out! Help!"-

Your muffled cries filled his ears as he held you to him even more relentlessly, the metallic taste of your life's essence still searing on his tongue as you fought - Jack knew this was difficult to accept, him being a killer for the highest bidder and enjoying the act of it with as much violent, carnal finesse as he did was hard to digest all by itself, but his vampiric, condemned nature and the fact that you were to be bound to him, for all eternity was another entirely. If not in this life, then in the next, you would find ultimate happiness with him and again and again and again, he would utilize the endless years of his immortality to await your rebirth through every proceeding cycle of being, if you view it particularly distasteful to be turned, or if you do something stupid to yourself to avoid it entirely - he would find you, wherever you are, whoever you are, and love you anew - live as man should live, in the most primal of ways. He was a staunch believer in such things. Reincarnation. He even told you so openly, the first or second time you ever spoke, before you knew who and what he was, and you merely brushed it off as a bizarre, interesting little quirk he had. How charming. Now the full weight of his convictions haunted you straight back into this coffin. Your new home. Which you hated so much. Sad. Truly. -"I killed someone by burying him alive once. A very important job I conducted for a private contractor, in Manilla. Stuffed him into a box, no bigger then this, six meters deep, below ground. I was especially notified and careful that his suffering and ultimate demise must be prolonged for extra effect. Do you know, my love, what the difference between that and this right here is? -"-

Jack pressed his lips right up your lobe, speaking to you as directly and as adoringly as he could, recollecting a commission murder he conducted about a decade ago in Thailand with special ardor and earning a rate of about half a million dollars for the particular hit alone, feeling your body stiffen in terror as you had nowhere to run from someone who just confessed to such a deed, the setting of the conversation taking place, he realized with some amount of sadness and glee alike, no doubt providing you with an extra amount of existential dread.

-"The difference is ---"-

He began slowly, knowing you could see the eerily, crimson, iridescent glow in his eyes.

-"He remained there for all but a few hours, struggling, before his lungs exploded from the pressure and he strangled to death. I could hear every whimper, every thud, every kick, every scratch. You, on the other hand, will stay here forever. In our little nest. With me. Your Timothy."-

He pressed a sloppy, wet, wanton kiss of infinite promise unto your exposed, helpless throat, utilizing his real, semi-abandoned, mortal name for extra emphasis, feeling your very skin shiver on impact as he mentioned the word 'forever'. You were afraid of him. You were aroused by him. A mutual condition he found himself in as he painfully, suddenly came undone from the dry chafing, heaving and pressing into you, taking a deep, content sigh afterwards and hugging you closer as he drifted off into a comforted, tucked-away, cozy slumber, lulled away into a dreamless sleep by your sweet, precious sobs.

[mrgriffiths]

Oh..

Blaylock in all his mysterious glory 😮‍💨

I love these!!

Jack Blaylock with a detective!beloved 👀

---

I can envision Jack convinced that if his Detective (emphasis on the his) has been tailing him for as long as they have, it is entirely with a reason.

That their paths were meant to connect. Converge.

In the infinitely complicated pattern of life, with every murder, assassination, unresolved case or mutilated carcass Jack Blaylock leaves in his wake, his beloved, who has been on his track for months, maybe even years to no avail, keeping on eye out on his handiwork with every newly opened police file his killing sprees puts up for investigation, coming so close to catching him and connecting the dots, but never quite managing, following in his shadow dragged forward by the red thread of fate and not even realizing that same piece of string leads back to him every time. How could they, after all? They don't know him. Not the way he knows them, having observed them and the devoted work they've been doing. As a result, I almost imagine Jack killing with the intention of keeping his beloved hooked on these cases. On bringing the perpetrator to justice. Playing a one-sided game of cat and mouse. Case shut.

It's his profession, but it can't mean it cannot prove to serve multiple purposes.

He wants them to come forward. Research crime scenes he leaves behind. Take photographs. Pin up newspaper clippings of the incidents. Write meticulous reports. Swap notes back and forth with Forensics. Dedicate time and effort to uncovering the culprit. Work overtime. Be passionate. Be frustrated when there's no clear-cut answers. Get drawn into the gruesome mystery. Get drawn into him long before they ever even know it's him who's doing all of this. Long before they have a name or even a face to go off of or any sort of concrete evidence. He supposes it's meant to be. A karmic connection. That they know each other from somewhere and that's why they're drawn to each other like this. That's why Jack feels he has the compulsion to do this. That's why he's convinced beloved wants to bring him to justice as badly as they do even before he started remotely encouraging that trait in them.

Instant recognition. From a past life, it seems. Regardless of circumstances.

Every slice is for them from there on out. Every beheading. Backstabbing. Shot at point blank range, execution style. Jack does it with beloved in mind, envisioning their shock at his brutality, their abject sadness, even their professional facade suppressing their personal feelings so they wouldn't lose their mind when faced with the gore --- everything --- he ponders the diligent hours dedicated to precise analysis, lab results, their antiseptic latex covered hand lingering on every slash he made. Every wound. Every scar. It'll be as close to touching him personally as they can get. It's like being together, in ways. It's a love letter to them. He might tactically meet them at some bar downtown as a perfect stranger once they're tired from all the work he's been putting them through needing a weekend break and he might just introduce himself, offering to buy them a drink, no strings attached. Everyone needs to blow off some steam, right?

The evening will blur into a fog of pleasant, noneventful conversation.

Fueled by a little bit of alcohol (his treat, of course), slow swaying on the club's dancefloor and a lot of unwinding (after all, Jack knows what he's been dragging them through), they could just share a tiny kiss or a little bit of affection because Jack seems to say all the right things at all the right moments, getting under beloved's skin seamlessly, appearing like not much more than an entirely normal guy. He might even disappear before the night is over and leave beloved wondering where that guy they just met has gone off to without a goodbye or without leaving any discernable contacts behind now that the weekend is drawing to a close and they have to get back to the usual routine of their job tomorrow morning at the station, never even catching on to how close they got to the man who has possessed their every waking work hour of the week or the person who's been leaving a trail of blood behind engulfing the better portion of beloved's career.

Naturally, Jack will never stop.

At least not until he decides he and beloved should meet face to face.

Without pretenses this time.

Or at least until beloved figures everything out on their own.

After all --- if it's meant to be, it's meant to be.