The Seduction of Iron Maiden Jeanne
by Apple-chan

Disclaimer: You know the drill.

HaoXJeanneXLyserg. Who will get to win Jeanne's heart first--Hao, or Lyserg? Who will win the bet? The race for the possession of Iron Maiden Jeanne's body is on! Romance/Humor/Smut. Rated NC-17 for disturbingly graphic sexual scenes.



One: Two Men, One Woman


Lyserg Diethyl has a problem.

Of course, all normal, hot-blooded healthy young men at the age of twenty-two usually did, but...his is a special case.

See the thing is, there's this girl that he's known for ten years. He's sort of friends with her...in a manner of speaking. She lives over at the convent a couple of blocks south from his detective agency.

Yep. A convent. She isn't a nun, though. Granted, she used to be a nun-in-training, but just last year, she had decided that vocation practices weren't her cup of tea, being that a lot of beliefs she was supposed to study and abide by clashed with her own. Despite the many protests, she had willingly deduced herself to the status of a mere convent missionary volunteer. Volunteers who worked for long hours. Volunteers whose only compensation were free boarding and lodging...and food. A very tiny, minuscule amount of something to be nibbled on when one gets hungry.

Each and every morning, he passed by the convent on his way to work. And each and every morning, his problem worsened like he had never known it would.

Each and every morning, he catches a glimpse of her beautiful profile by the windows of the second floor. Her bedroom was somewhere above the convent's front entrance, and every day, he sees her there.

He sees her tossing her hair back. He sees her as she ties it back away from her face. He sees her as she changes from her sleeping clothes to her normal work outfit. He sees her as she smiles and waves hello to the world in her serene, firm manner.

He watches her as she opens the windows and greets each and every person outside--him included.

The ironic thing was, just as her smiles and waves of greeting brought warmth and happiness deep inside his heart, they also brought pain deep inside his loins.

Pain, desire...and uncontrollable lust.

Which now brings us to his problem. He wanted her so bad that he carried the aching deep within him each and every day, as he goes to work. Each and every day, as he sees her. As he watches her.

She was eighteen years old now, and yet...still as beautiful as she had been when she was eight years old. When she was still a little girl.

He wanted her even then, but more so now. Back then, she was powerful enough to bring him to his knees and make him pray for mercy...and beautiful enough for him to long for more. He could stare at her for ages and never get tired of her face. He could hold her hand for ages and still remain, for a touch of her skin felt like the single most piece of heaven that existed on this earth. Heaven that he knew he wanted, yet he couldn't have.

Now, she was a young woman. A fully-developed, healthy young woman. He had no doubt that she was still powerful enough to make him fall on his knees...this time, though, he wouldn't be doing any praying. There wouldn't be any begging for mercy. This time, he would be worshipping her to the deepest ends of the earth. And even though he would be begging, it wouldn't be for mercy...but for her. He was willing to beg, if that was the only way he could have her.

But he was willing to do other things besides, too.

And her face...this time, he would be staring at more than just her face. He would rake his eyes all over her from head to toe, examine every single inch of her with his eyes...until every single part of her blushes bright red from his heated gazes.

He would do more than stare, though. He would touch her...not just the hand, but the whole, entire package. And he would do more than just touch--he would kiss her, as well. Taste every inch of her...from head to toe.

Feel every inch of her body against his. Sink himself inside her tight, clinging warmth again and again, possessing her in the most ultimate of possessions, until he was completely satisfied.

And then, he would do it all over again.

That was his problem: he wanted her, and he wanted her bad.

And by hook or by crook, he was going to have her.

No one can stop him.


*~*~*~*~*~*


Hao Asakura has a problem.

Even ex-destroyers, even onmyoujis have their share of problems, too. Bad guys have their share of problems too...and Hao Asakura was no exception.

Technically, he wasn't really a bad guy anymore. He had long ago abandoned the habit of killing each and every single useless human being on Earth. He had promised his brother that he wouldn't, not anymore--right after that final battle between them which finally decided the future of the Shamanic world.

Theirs--his and Yoh's, that is, was a most extraordinary case, for there never was a time in the millions of years that passed when the Great Spirits had proclaimed two, instead of just one Shaman King. But that was what happened. Ultimately, his and Yoh's fight ended in the most astounding of endings--in a draw.

But enough about the past. Let's get back to Hao, and his problem.

He did a lot of traveling in his spare time...and as he really had nothing to do for the most part, his life was mainly composed of spare hours spent leisurely riding Spirit of Fire all around the globe. He often stopped at Tokyo, in Funbarigaoka, because that was where his brother, his brother's wife, and his little nephew lived. He often stopped in America's dead valleys, too, because that was where his underlings--what's left of them, anyway--had chosen to reside.

He often stopped in Europe, as well. Specifically, in London.

Something in that city has caught his eye. Or more correctly, someone.

He first spotted her outside a convent somewhere at the edge of town. He had surmised that she was either a nun, or a volunteer. He had dismissed the volunteer thought right out of his head and immediately went in for the nun option, in hopes that he would forget about her due to that certain little detail. He wasn't about to lust after a nun, no sir. Quite tempting, but...as an onmyouji with values, he was bound by his beliefs to respect the practices of any religion--and this was no exception.

Besides, he's known her for ten years. He's fought with her (and her useless underlings) more times than he could even count. Once in their lives, she and him had been enemies in the most ultimate sense of the word. Once in their lives, they had fought each other to the death. Once in their lives, they had fought on the opposite sides of a coin, the opposing sides of a battlefield.

Every fight that mattered ended in a draw...and rightfully so. There wouldn't have been any point in them killing each other. In all truth and honesty, Hao had no desire to kill her whatsoever. Something in her eyes, when she was eight and he was thirteen, told him that she was destined for better and bigger things. Eyes that are ruby-red...silvery-blue hair, and a face that was short of launching a thousand ships, airplanes, and shamanic oversouls...she was astoundingly beautiful, to put it mildly.

Even as a child.

Alright, alright. So maybe one of the many reasons why he had decided not to kill her was...he wanted her. At thirteen, he was way into puberty, and his mind was that of a man's. He wanted her then--for her powers, and something much more.

Ten years ago, he had fought with her, and he had been awed by her powers, and her beauty.

Now, ten years later, she is eighteen, and he, twenty-three. And just like any other normal man, he had his needs and wants, too. He had desires he wishes to fulfill. Passions he wishes to unleash. Thirst that was ever-unquenchable.

Lust that grew in multitudes with every passing second.

If he wanted her power then, he wanted more than that now. He wanted HER. He wanted her heart, her mind, her soul--her very whole being.

And her body. ESPECIALLY her body.

He had seen her dressing and undressing by the window of her room at the second floor. Although he hadn't seen much, his eyes had caught the curves, the crevices...and the swells. And that ivory white, pale skin that was just begging for a tiny little mark from him.

It all made his blood boil.

Which brings us to his problem.

Recently, he heard that she had decided not to continue her pursuit of the vocation and just serve as one of the highly abused pawns of the church...as a volunteer, so to speak. Which clearly meant that she was no longer off-limits. She was available to him. He could seduce her any way he wanted, and no one and nothing was going to protest, most especially not his values.

She was a free woman, and a free woman can have a free man.

Uncontrollable desire surged through his loins.

He would torture her with his touches, kisses and caresses. He would continue doing that again and again until she begs him to take him inside her--fully, completely. And when he reaches inside, he would savor the feel of her walls surrounding him, tightening against his manhood.

And once he gets his release, he intends to do it all over again.

That was his problem: he wanted her, and he wanted her bad.

And he would do everything to get her.

He would get her.

No one can stop him.



TSUZUKU.



End notes:

Yes, it's smut. And yes, it's HXJXL. My muse is insisting on this, and I am yielding. How can I not? This is so much fun to write.^_^ I swear it is.