Categories > Anime/Manga > Hellsing

On A Rainy Monday

by Machinator 0 reviews

Jan returns to life as he knows it and realizes it's not fun anymore. (Jan/Orihime Inoue) Based on a multi-fandom role play on LiveJournal.

Category: Hellsing - Rating: R - Genres: Angst,Crossover,Romance - Warnings: [X] - Published: 2008-11-21 - Updated: 2008-11-22 - 1539 words - Complete

Author's note: Haha, this is based on the goings-on over at a role play called "Asylum Project" on LiveJournal. ...Which explains the crackiness of Jan Valentine/Orihime Inoue. But I guess, if you wanted to, you could substitute Orihime's name with anybody else, it just might not make too much sense, since it already... doesn't make much sense. Oowah.

In-game, "Daddy" is also the name Jan uses for Badou Nails. "Crazy Bitch" is what Jan lovingly refers to Orihime as because he sucks at being romantic.

I really wasn't going to post this since it's based on a multi-fandom role play but I got tempted. :(

The fic is still very Jan-centric, focusing on his habits and how he copes with sudden changes and stress after he winds up back in his own universe again. The point of Jan listing off the time is because in the world Asylum Project takes place in, all the clocks are frozen at midnight.


...So I don't own any of the characters of Hellsing, Bleach, or DOGS.

On A Rainy Monday

It was 11:38.

Flashing neon lights sliced through thick fog, shooting over the sea of writhing bodies on the dancefloor and the smell of cheap booze and even cheaper sex. The thumping beat pulsed in every eardrum, causing them to bleed out every ounce of morality and "I'm not that kind of girl" all over their vomit-stained leather boots.

This was what he wanted, wasn't it? This was what he wanted to come home to.

Jan leaned back in his private booth, his bare shoulders squealing across the leather as some random brunette left rings of black lipstick over his cock. The cigarette between his lips was dropping flecks of ash into her hair and his gold eyes rolled to the ceiling, trying to enjoy what he really couldn't feel through his cocaine jitters.

This was what he wanted. He wanted to come home to this...

No more white hospital, no more white anything. Everything was stained with that liquid sin, that foul-smelling shit that dripped taint and "I'm totally that kind of girl" all over his hair and his skin and his fucking everywhere.

He glanced down at the bitch between his legs, feeling absolutely nothing. He clutched her hair and forced her head further down, letting out an animalistic wail of frustration when he still felt nothing. He removed his fingers from her hair and let her recoil on the floor, spitting up more of that liquid sin and vomit and alcohol and blood and the last of her dignity and what made her "daddy's little girl" back where she came from.

Something was missing now and this wasn't what he wanted.

The bitch blinked up at him with wide green eyes, wet and bloodshot and nothing special. So she was pissed. Jan planted his boot in her chest and gave her a shove, head rolling to the side as he examined his nails.

Eyes that were the color of a passing storm on a rainy Monday looked up at him with adoration and admiration and all the words that started with "a" that could've made his dead little heart start thumping once or twice...

"Jan. Jan. Jan."

Jan looked up at his brother, noting the unamused expression on Luke's face as he ushered the sobbing brunette out of the booth.

"What the fuck do you want?" Jan pulled the cigarette from his lips and smashed it onto the stained table before tossing it aside.

"That was our employer's daughter. You cannot treat a client like--"

Jan zoned out and his body gave another violent shudder as all of his powdered sin flowed through his system.

But it wasn't good enough. No matter how much he pumped into his body, it wasn't enough to forget the drug he missed the most.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..."

"Jan, are you listening to me?"

"Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, bro..."

"...What is wrong with you lately? Your head's not in the right place."

"...Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck. Fucking. Fuck. Fucking. Fuck. You. Bro."

"Perhaps you should return to the flat..."

"Fuck you... Daddy... Fuck. You. Stop telling me... what the fuck to do. Fucking... fuck. Fuck... Fuck..."

"...I give up. I give up! You're such a nuisance to me." Luke left the booth, refusing to look at his brother for the rest of the night. Jan watched with apathetic eyes as his brother was swallowed by the writhing mass of cheap alcohol and cheaper sex.

Something was missing now and this wasn't what Jan wanted anymore.

Another line of powdered sin in his left nostril and he forced himself out of the leather seat, nearly knocking over his table in the process. His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his baggy jeans, flicking around old crushed pills of E and whatever the fuck that sticky shit was as he fished out his cellphone to check the time.


/"Nn...Fuck... What time is it?" Jan rolled over in bed, tugging the sheet with him. There was a girly squeal from behind him and the sheets were tugged back, exposing his nude skin. "Fuck! Fucking bitch, it's cold!"

"It's still midnight! Silly! Time stands still, remember?"

"...Then we've got time."

"Time for what?"

"Round two, bitch, let's go!"/

Jan snapped his cellphone closed with a flick of his wrist, jamming it right back down into his pockets to play with the old crushed pills of E and whatever the fuck that sticky shit was. It was now 11:59.

Jan shoved his way through the crowd, ignoring the hands and hips and legs and breasts and whatever-THAT-was that got in his way. He shoved and smashed and fought his way to the exit, knocking over tables and stools and drinks and stupid bitches every chance he got.

He was over this scene, so onto the next! Luke be damned, Jan would get fucked up if he wanted to get fucked up, job or no job in the morning.

But as soon as the cold night air hit Jan's club-warmed skin, all of his plans changed.

It was 12:00 and all he could see were clouds of gray rolling across a deep blue sky, obscuring the moon. It smelled like wet pavement and he felt his knees begin to buckle. Maybe he'd had too much to drink or maybe he'd smoked too much pot or snorted too much coke. Whatever it was, it caused him to stumble into the nearest alley and spill out all of his stomach's contents, spewing out all of the things that he hated most about the world.

He could hear sweet laughter ringing in his ears as another wave of liquid nasty-everything's-so-fucking-nasty spilled out of his mouth and burned his nostrils and onto the broken cement that cut up his hands. More and more and more, he couldn't get it out faster than it seemed to come up and he started to choke, suffocating on his own liquid what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-you-man!?

Everything he'd ever done wrong, everything he'd ever done right, he heaved all of it up onto the pavement, gulping in breaths as he could.

He hated it, hated it, hated it, hated this place, he hated it!

Still shooting bile from his lips, Jan smashed his forehead into the gravel, howling like a madman as the tiny pebbles and bits of broken beer bottles began cutting his skin.

He hated this place, he hated it! He fucking hated it! He hated it he hated it.


Jan spat out all of his sins and all of his insecurities and all of the things that made him want to punch babies in the face...

And when he finally stopped throwing up everything that he hated most, he rolled onto his back, uncaring of the fact that he was ruining his nice shirt and just stared up at the sky.

It felt like fucking years before the first drop of rain hit Jan's cheek, and soon it was raining down on him hard. But he stared up at the sky, unblinking, watching the swirls of gray pass over the deep blue... And he could only think that they looked so much like her eyes and how he wanted to pluck them right out of her pretty little head...

With a shaky hand, Jan fumbled around for his cellphone and held it up to his face. As he flipped the lid, the tiny screen flickered to life, illuminating the alley with its light.

He stared at the time.


Jan threw his phone aside, laughter bubbling up from his ruined throat as the tiny plastic device shattered in a shower of pieces and gizmos and doodads. He continued to laugh, desperate and disturbed, howling and shuddering with the force of it. His body twisted so violently that it would have looked like he was going to peel his bones right out of his skin. He twisted and writhed in the pool of his own fucked-up-fuck, his whole body on fire with something-something-something for what could have been hours.

Finally, finally, finally, his laughter subsided and he closed his eyes, body shuddering.

"Fuck shit, I love rainy Mondays."
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