Work Text:
Night has darkened the sky when the Turnabout Terror finally escapes from the twisting labyrinth of the Demon Prosecutor’s lair. He can’t say for certain which night though, for it feels like he’s been down there and downsized for ages. They both knew the shrinking wouldn’t last forever, and even if the man wanted to keep him small he couldn’t do so with him in that jar.
That jar. Phoenix had noticed it in battle, and had tried to keep an eye on it in case it contained another cloud of odorless knock out gas. Perhaps that was the goal, to keep his eyes on it, for when the Demon Prosecutor tossed it into the air, Phoenix had failed to notice the Demon Prosecutor pulling out his new and improved scepter from within his billowing red cloak.
He had broken the last one under his heel many months ago. He hasn’t anticipated a new one. He hadn't anticipated a lot of what had taken place after he passed out.
Once back to normal size, he made a break for it once he located his clothes. The Demon Prosecutor refused to give chase, no doubt drained from all of his, ah, lost fluids. But his laughter followed Phoenix up multiple staircases and twisting halls, until at last he spotted an open window. He dove out of it with the grace and agility of a panther, and landed like a seal flopping onto dry land. His regenerative healing made it so that he was up on his feet in a blink, and he made a mad dash for the tree line.
He knew this forest all too well, and its ever shifting nature did not stump and trap him like it had before. He was in the city in no time, and after checking in on this at the noodle shop, he left again for his secret oasis. He didn’t like keeping all his eggs in one basket, he needed a hiding spot for himself and others when things got a little too dicey in the streets. The Demon Prosecutor held domain over what was once Gregory Grove, but People Park on the other side of the city is where Pheonix calls home.
He walks three times around the big tree in the center of the park, and then takes off at a run once the path reveals itself to him. He doesn’t stop until his cottage comes into view, wider than it is tall with moss eating at the bottom layer of stone. He rubs his thumb over Mia’s nameplate as he enters, the spot soft and worn. He heads straight for the laundry room and disrobes, dumps his clothes into the cauldron of always cold water and lets out a heavy sigh.
“One task done. A lifetime of nightmares to go.” He scratches at his belly, grimacing at the tacky feeling. He didn’t have time to clean himself as his goal had been to escape, and now here he is covered head to toe in the Demon Prosecutor’s dried up release. He feels so dirty, so violated. To be treated like a toy by the pompous villain with his own personal moral code.
“I guess since he didn’t kill me it meant he could do this instead.” Phoenix touches his hair and recoils: he does not want to see any reflective surfaces until he’s completely clean. He does not stop to think about how that may never be possible.
With no one around but him, Phoenix gathers a few things before taking the short walk to the hot springs. Along with being incredibly relaxing, the pools offer a bit of healing as well. He usually soaks for an hour or so after the more intense battles, but he can’t think of a better place to get cleaned up. He’s starting to feel hot and tingly all over, an itch just beneath his skin.
The nerve of that man! Using his little tricks again. He knows he can’t take him hostage like that unless he resorts to the more powerful spells, and after the last time Phoenix thought he had seen the last of that damned scepter. Now he was behind on his chores, behind on patrol, and left with this unforgettable taste in his mouth.
“Darling,” Phoenix croons in a crude imitation of that voice. “I just wanted some entertainment. I could never kill you.” He scoffs, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “What a coward. He couldn’t find a bigger jar? He knows I’m afraid of heights…”
He rubs at his bare chest, shivering when he brushes over a pebbles nipple. “And what the hell was all that talk about dreaming about me being like that? I knew he was corrupt but a pervert, too? Does he cast spells on his underwear before putting them on? W-was he even wearing any when he…”
A calm and familiar bubbling greets him as he reaches the entrance to the hot springs; a canopy of vines blooming with lilac flowers that waft the scent of lavender and freeh earth to his nose. The ground beneath his bare feet is soft and giving, gentle with just enough support. He is free in the open air of this little grotto, surrounded by the most cleansing waters in the area.
He is so fucking hard he can barely see two feet in front of him.
Phoenix drops to his knees just before he reaches his usual pool as the heat crawls up from his legs and wraps around his waist, coiling in his stomach before spreading to his chest. He gasps, confused and lightheaded, reaching down to touch himself before he thinks to do so. He groans at the slightest pressure from his fingers, precum gathering at the top much more quickly than normal. Each inhale brings with it more searing heat and the taste of musk on the back of his tongue. He’s spilling all over his fingers in a matter of seconds and sways sideways until he’s forced to roll onto his back.
“W-what the hell is wrong with me?” His breath stutters out of his chest, stomach jumping with each new stroke of his hand. He doesn’t even realize he’s still rutting until he’s coming again, streaks of white decorating his stomach.
It has to be whatever the Demon Prosecutor took that made him last so long. The effects of it must’ve transferred to Phoenix because of—because he accidentally—after—
eagerly swallowing endless mouthfuls of his cum, hot and thick and flowing endlessly, covering him completely drowning him just like he said
Okay okay okay. He can deal with this. It was like a poison, right? His healing will take care of the worst of it, he just has to deal with the side effects. Phoenix takes a deep, calming breath, squeezing the base of his shaft in an attempt to spark some clarity. He moans instead, the heat in his body growing in intensity. Would he even feel the hot water of the springs now? Was he boiling alive?
You look magnificent like this
The memory of those stormy eyes, usually bright with intelligence or narrowed in anger, dark with an inhuman lust makes his back arch and his toes curl. Phoenix tries to stop, tries to calm down, but he can’t. He puts his hand out looking for something to grab, looking for something to ground him, but all he gets is the steam of the hot spring that’s so warm and overwhelming, it reminds him of—
“T-this is all his fault,” Phoenix whines, eyes rolling back in his head. “Was this his plan? Was he h-hoping I collapsed before I could escape? Was he waiting for me to succumb to t-this?”
He rubs his own release over his thighs just as did with the Demon Prosecutor’s only hours before, or mere minutes ago. He was quickly losing track of everything, time and location and his willpower. It was just that drug, that poison that was making him do this. It was the poison that caused him to take off his clothes and beg for that giant cock to cover him completely, the poison that begged to never be set free.
I’ll keep you inside here forever, my little souvenir, my decoration, my toy~
Phoenix shoves his fingers into his mouth, lapping at the tacky skin, desperately searching for the taste of him. He never wanted to forget it, never wanted to be without it. That was the only way to make this stop, to be with the Demon Prosecutor always. Why did he run in the first place? Why wasn’t he hunted down and pinned and kept? What’s stopping him from going back there Right Now? He may not be able to find the fortress exactly but once he was within range the Demon Prosecutor would sense him, would come to collect him, would do whatever he wanted with him even after this potion wore off. Even after Phoenix started cursing his name. He would keep him until he admitted to—
With his mouth full Phoenix shouts to the sky a forbidden name, one he’s known for years but has never dared to utter aloud since they’ve been reunited. Alone in the safest place he could be, Phoenix lets himself sink down into the grass, down into the phantom warmth surrounding him, and lets himself drown.
You’ll never be dry again
————————————————————
Venus.
It has several other names, but when people think about a powerful lust that was strong enough to embolden the most shy of partners, that’s what they thought of. It was a little hush-hush, not illegal necessarily, but if you knew where to get some you didn’t go advertising. Mia’s library only had one book about it, which meant that it really was that difficult to make. Other aphrodisiacs existed out there, some safe enough to buy in shops during special events, but the potent stuff you had to make yourself.
The Demon Prosecutor was always very fond of his elixirs.
But the text on the page wasn’t making any sense. According to this, the strongest version of Venus only lasted for two hours, with its effects wearing off soon after it worked its way through the system. With his head a little foggy even after rolling, quire literally, into the hot spring, Phoenix can’t remember how long he was under the Demon Prosecutor’s control. Assuming he escaped somewhere around the two hour mark that would mean all that he felt once he got back home was completely fabricated
Phoenix stares down at the book in horror before huffing and setting it aside. No, that couldn’t be it. This book was surely going off outdated information. And even if it wasn’t Phoenix’s altered physical state had to factor into things! Maybe being small had doubled or even tripled the potion’s effects. Maybe the Demon Prosecutor had still been dealing with his very hard problem and that’s why he didn’t give chase, because there was no blood flowing to his legs. That must be it. He was just very good with making elixirs, and Phoenix was lucky he hasn’t passed out in the jar with the way it had made him act.
He… well he must’ve been under the influence of Venus. Why else would he have crawled to his knees and braced himself against the wall of the jar, head tipped back and mouth wide open? He would never do that on his own! And what happened at the hot springs? He had drying cum in his hair! Why would he collapse to the ground and rub himself raw if not for the fact he was under a mighty potion?
“Once I figure this out I’ll update the book,” Phoenix says to himself, thinking about how proud Mia would be of him doing field research. “I won’t let him catch me off guard again. Next time I’ll be ready.”
…. N-not that he’s planning on a next time! No way!