#people disregard how jan valek is actually oddly heroic

[terrence-silver]

Valek headcanons with his beloved?

---

― Love is eternal for a vampire and doubly so for one so loyal and devoted as Jan Valek. He's dedicated to his people. To his coven. To what he feels like is their plight. To the cult that sprouted out around them and himself over the centuries as the patron saint of the unliving. He's dedicated to avenging them. Shielding them. Leading them. Being their father. The father of all vampires and the first of their kind. Giving them ability to walk under god's sunlight, or at least fighting to reach this goal. He's devoted to the very concept of devotion in equal measure. A group of vampire hunters hurting and killing even the lowliest grunts that belong to him is enough for him to massacre a hotel full of said hunters singlehandedly in retaliation, because every one of his pack counts, even the most seemingly miniscule of members is someone worthy of justice in his eyes. So, one can only begin to understand what truly love means to him. Love in all shapes. Love for his kin. Love for his beliefs. Love of the romantic sort, in this case. His zeal is simply fierce, albeit elegantly subdued most times. Most times.

― So, when he finds his beloved, he's found them. This zeal kicks in and he considers it a thing of destiny --- of fate --- giving it an almost religious connotation, although he's as far from holiness as he can be and he has an innate understanding of that. Nonetheless, he thinks God himself has given him a rare mercy in his six hundred years of being a vampire. He thinks you're a blessing. His blessing. In fact, he's convinced of it. He thinks you're divine providence. He thinks you're a being of light. Beauty. An angel. His sun. He's hardly pious about his emotions or their scale even though he was a priest in his former human life, but he's not unkind either. He's intense, yet gentle. Enamored, yet sweet. Sexual and dangerous, yet unusually respectful. He proclaims his ardent love fairly quickly for a being that has all the time in the world simply because he's a man of impulse and honesty. He could take a mere whiff of his beloved's scent from afar. Perhaps, gaze into their eyes for the first time, and he'd just know. Feel it. They're meant for him. Wouldn't it to be a sacrilege not to be sincere about such things outright?

― Of course, it can only aid his cause when his whole coven, wherever they might be in the world, is mentally connected to him and they feel what he feels too. See what he sees. Sense the scope of their master's longings. Of his love. Of his yearning. Feel that Father Valek's beloved is meant to be his beloved and can optionally function like a virtual army off to do his bidding, retrieving beloved for him if they ever ran and taking them where they belong and should be, by the eternal groom's side, extreme circumstances and all, not that this necessary because he can be oh so kind all on his own. Oh, so considerate. Oh, so tender. To the point it is easy to just...forget...that he is a vampire at all, least of all, the most dangerous, deadly and ancient of his kind. He's quiet. Calm. Seductive. Lulling. He doesn't want to scare his beloved. He just wants them by his side and his verbal oratory is sufficient enough for him to very ardently and very patiently convince them of this, no powers needed. Just his words. His presence. A kiss on the lips. The neck. The hands, in an almost antiquated gesture. Then lower, between their legs.

― If his beloved was human, would he turn them? For a vampire whose entire goal is becoming a Daywalker (and ensure all of his vampires are Daywalkers too) by acquiring the Cross of Berziers, Jan is very unlikely to bereft his mortal love of what he considers the light of all lights. The joy of enjoying daytime, even though he himself cannot. Of enjoying the sun. The full experience of what means to be a person unhindered by being condemned to infinite darkness. In fact, his motivation to become a Daywalker himself and walk by their side becomes even firmer, more resolute, borderline revolutionary, so rather than turning beloved into a vampire, he'd much rather work on changing his own circumstances instead so they can coexist equally, side by side under the heavens, demonstrating an odd selflessness and even consideration. Dare I say, moral values? His holy crusade turns even more personal. With the element of love added to the mix, Jan Valek wants to be able to walk in sunlight so he can walk with you; a cause he'd kill for. Die for. Martyr himself for, and it isn't even the first time he's been martyred.

― But, he's not just a noble romantic, and his priestly, saintly, formerly Christian and very Catholic sensibilities can run very thin very fast when his beloved is threatened. In any danger whatsoever. In jeopardy. Bodies can pile up by the hundreds and entire villages, outposts, groups of vampire hunters, monasteries and settlements can end up eradicated within hours because he'd singlehandedly massacre them for his love with no question and laugh while doing so, but in equal measure, once he's done, with the same bloody hand he's done the terrible deed with he's capable of caressing beloved's cheeks, reassuring them and comforting them amid the carnage he's created for them and because of them, treating them like someone or something breakable and fragile, ensuring them it is all fine, right before scooping them up and carrying them off into the night and into safety, ever gentle, ever careful, oscillating from one extreme to another. Prince Valiant he is not. Except every now and again.

― He makes love with the same dedicated selflessness and he leans towards pleasing rather than being pleased himself --- even though, you being pleased is very much his pleasure as well and there's no two ways around it. He's a kind lover. Truly and nonironically. He's a willing and eager giver, primarily. He thinks beloved moaning, throwing their head back, begging, pleading, curling their toes, riddled with lust and desire and being flushed with contentment is a beautiful sight. A sight angels could only envy. A sight that belongs on a fresco of some coveted church, to be admired and worshipped, even though he'd rather not have unworthy eyes gaze upon it. On you. A sight he loves seeing again and again and again as he tastes them, hits all the right spots, drinks their blood, feeds them his own, puts his hands around their neck, careful not to break them, grazes them with his teeth, his fangs, as he holds them down, whispers praises and psalms in their ears, loving beloved's body, lavishing every erogenous spot, ensuring they feel heavenly, as they should.