Chapter Text
Damian knew there was no other way. Summoning the Ghost King was the only way to end this. The magic users were trying their best, but both Zatana and Constantine were already down, and Dr. Fate wouldn’t be far behind. The rest of the Justice League was barely holding back the combined threat of Darkseid, Starro, and Klarion. Why these three juggernauts had decided to team up, Damian would never know.
Ripping a page from Constantine’s book, he skimmed the contents of the spell. The Ghost King would come, and the King would vanquish whatever foe the summoner requested, but the summoner would then be transported to the King’s domain, a slave to the King for the remainder of their days.
It was a sacrifice Damian was willing to make, if it meant the world would be saved. His family would be saved. Though he had his ups and downs with his father, his siblings, and fellow heroes, he cared for most of them. He did not want any of them to perish.
Drawing the symbols on the floor of a partially caved in home, Damian began to chant, the symbols glowing an ominous Lazarus green. After he finished, he waited. Nothing happened. Growling, Damian got up, ready to search the spell book for more spells.
Then he heard the shouts. Making his way out of the collapsed house, he looked up into the sky. There was a massive green portal in the sky, a enormous being in a silvery white suit of armor with a Lazarus green and black spiky crown floating above the helmet. An army of skeletons poured out behind the King. Damian felt himself relax as the army made quick work of the invading forces. Klarion, upon seeing the Ghost King, squeaked and warped away.
It was wild to see how quickly and efficiently the army and the King himself decimated the enemy. The King destroyed the massive Starro in a single blast of ice and ectoplasmic green. Darkseid was defeated with a few swings of his sword, his strength, speed, and skill overpowering Darkseid. While he was happy to see them defeated, Damian was disheartened that due to the Ghost King being so effective, his time on Earth was so limited. He doubted that he would get a chance to say goodbye.
He was right, as a portal appeared beneath him, sucking him in as the Ghost King and his army left in their own portal. Falling though the abyss, he landed on his feet in an elaborate courtyard. The Ghost King was just feet away, shrunk now to a normal size. With no desire to be a slave for the rest of his life, Damian unsheathed his katana, racing towards the overpowered King, hoping for a quick death.
“Wait, stop!” the King commanded, holding out his hand.
Damian grit his teeth, ignoring the monarch. He swung, only for his sword to snap upon hitting the silvery white armor the King wore. No matter, jumping back, he grabbed some batarangs from his pockets, flinging them at his opponent.
“Stop! There is no need to fight!”
None of the batarangs made a dent, not that he truly expected them to. Grabbing the explosive ones, he threw those next. He just needed the Ghost King to decide he wasn’t worth it. Ideally, he would be sent back. If not, then he had made the ultimate sacrifice to save others.
“Goddammit!” the King yelled as the explosions went off around him, briefly obscuring him in smoke.
Green rays shot out, hitting Damian in the legs. Stumbling, he fell. Using a small knife, he cut through the lazarus green rope. Unfortunately, that was enough time for the King to get close enough to attempt to grab him. Damian rolled out of the way, getting back on his feet and dodging the next couple green blasts sent his way.
“Just stay still! Then we can talk this out!”
“Never!” Damian snarled, “I will not be anyone’s slave!”
He tensed as the King disappeared from his vision. He looked around, waiting for any sign of the armor clad monarch. He jolted as two blasts hit him from behind, the bright green ropes wrapping around his legs and pinning his arms to his sides. His knees now tied together as well, he tipped forward, bracing himself to hit the floor. He felt metal clad fingers grab the ropes around his chest and arms, preventing his fall.
“Okay, we can talk now. Robin, right?” came the velvety voice behind him.
As if these pathetic ropes would hold him. Shifting his arms, he pulled out another small blade, cutting his arms free, rolling forward expertly, cutting the ropes around his legs in the process.
“Oh come on!” gripped the Ghost King.
“It takes a lot more than some measly ropes to hold a Robin,” he snarked angrily.
“I can see that. Fuck,” the man grumbled, “Guess I’ll have to try some different knots then.”
“Do your worst,” Damian snarled.
“Alright. You asked for it,” came the amused response, the man disappearing in front of him once more.
Damian readied himself, listening for even the slightest sound. It was useless though, feeling strong muscled arms grab him, ropes once again wapping around him. This time was different though, weaving around him, creating a sort of harness. Two of the ropes emphasized his pecs, one wrapping under, one over. The arms on him forced his hands behind his back, the ropes tying his wrists to just below his elbows. Damian squirmed, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t reach any of his hidden knives, daggers, or anything.
It felt… weird. Comforting. Like a hug? But not. It was just ropes. He knew that. But he couldn’t get out. His knees felt weak.
“Sweet, looks like you can’t get out. Now, let’s go somewhere we can talk,” the King said, grabbing an anchor point in the ropes on his back, above his tied arms, leading Damian into the castle. Damian should be fighting, should be attempting to break free. He should be. Yet he wasn’t.
Damian was led through a maze of hallways, desperately attempting to remember the route, although his mind was a bit hazy. All he could think about was the ropes caressing him, holding him in, supporting him, and rubbing against him as he walked. The ones cupping his chest in particular were distracting, his nipples hardening in excitement, as was his cock, which was pressing against the cup in his pants. At least no one would be able to see the evidence of his arousal. Small mercies.
He was led into a massive, brilliant throne room. Large stained glass windows depicted feats of strength, acts of kindness, and what looked to be the unification of different realms. There were multiple statues of a handsome man in armor, in court dress, and in a hazmat suit? The Ghost King waved his hand, a large plush pillow appearing on the floor next to the throne. Damian was gently lowered onto the memory foam pillow.
Damian felt himself flushing as he was manhandled into position, and ropes were wrapped around his legs. His legs were splayed slightly, ankles tied to his upper thighs, ropes criss crossing and weaving across him in an intricate pattern. He wanted to protest, to demand answers, but his mouth was dry, his heart hammering in his chest, and his erection aching in his cup. Damian couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this aroused.
“Here - I need to check - Okay, looks like you’re good,” the king said conversationally, leaning over Damian with one knee on the pillow, sliding two fingers under the ropes in multiple areas. Distantly, Damian registered that he was checking to ensure the ropes weren’t too tight, that they weren’t cutting off Damian’s circulation in any way.
“Just - Stay here. I’ll be back in a moment and we can talk about how we’re going to get rid of this magical contract thing you did with that spell, kay?” the king got a few steps away before he halted.
“Wait. Shouldn’t leave someone in shibari alone. Uhhhh -.” The king’s form shifted and twisted before there was a second king next to the first.
“Right. Go get some of the observants, bring them here along with the magical contract that this one created,” the king ordered his duplicate before turning to look back at Damian. Based on the way the helmet was moving, he was being appraised. Damian felt his cheeks turn red.
“You doing okay there? You’ve been quiet since I got those ropes on you, and you were such a mouthy shit earlier,” the armored man asked, stepping close once more, his worry evident in his voice.
“Although damn, I gotta say, I did a pretty good job on the shibari! Especially doing it on a struggling person!”
The Ghost King removed his helmet, taking Damian’s breath away. The man had glowing lazarus green eyes and pale blue skin. There were faintly glowing white freckles that looked like stars scattered across his nose and cheeks. Damian would swear that he could see the Big Dipper among them. He had elongated ears that ended in points, with soft pure white hair. The king was grinning, and Damian could see not only elongated canines but all of the teeth were sharper than a normal human’s.
How Damian wished to be bitten by that mouth.
Damian growled, though it was not as strong or intimidating as he wanted it to be. Those damn ropes.
“I will never submit to you, you fiend,” he declared.
“Eh, no worries, I’m not interested in your submission. Kinda actually want you to leave, to be honest. I don’t want a slave. Least…. Not an unwilling one.” The last part muttered lowly, Damian just barely catching it.
“I do not believe you,” he spat.
“I’m soooo shocked,” the King mocked, “You bats are known for being super paranoid. No worries, we’ll get that paper, shred it, or whatever, and send you back. You can do your hero things, and I can do my king things. And everything will be back to normal.”
There was nothing more to be said, at that point. Damian tried once more to wriggle out of his bonds. Nothing. He might as well wait. He was not… uncomfortable where he was. It could certainly be worse. Damian attempted to meditate.
He was distracted by the King sitting in the throne, reading through papers a servant had brought him. Damian’s cock throbbed, pressing painfully against his cup. There was something so delicious and humiliating, trussed up as he was, on this pillow, while the King sat on his throne, uncaring as he reviewed reports. His throat felt dry, as he struggled to prevent his heart from speeding up in anticipation and excitement.
Anticipation for what , though?
He refused to delve into why he was anticipating something.
The copy of the king returned, followed by a small crowd of green, one eyed beings. They carried a glowing green scroll, handing it over to King, who was now paying attention. He stood, approaching them. Once the scroll was in his hand, he unfurled it, reading. Damian noticed the faint tightening in the monarch’s stance. He was not pleased with whatever he was reading.
Damian could be patient, he had to be. He shifted slightly, the ropes rubbing against him in the process, sending pleasurable shivers down his spine. Control yourself Damian! Now was not the time to give in to these - these urges! For all he knew, it was due to whatever magic had brought him here.
It was literally magic that declared him a slave to the monarch of the dead. Damian had only cared to confirm that the King would have been required to assist in whatever conflict they were summoned for, as long as there was a human sacrifice. The heroes were lucky that knowledge of such spells was not common, as something that compelled the sumonee to fight for them. He knew plenty of adversaries that would not blink an eye at sacrificing those around them to get what they wanted.
“Well. Good and bad news, Robin. Which one do you want first?” the King asked, standing in front of Damian’s pillow.
He scolded himself internally. How could he not have noticed when the unfairly attractive ghost had finished reading the scroll? Damian looked up at the man towering over him. Like this… he felt so small, so insignificant before a being of such power. He felt the muscles in his rear clench, saliva pooling in his mouth.
He’d watched how the man had made quick work of Darkseid and his allies. The King of the Dead had been merciless, slicing through the army with ruthless efficiency. Yet he had been relatively gentle, capturing Damian. No broken bones, no scratches. That gave the impression that the King cared enough about Damian to ensure he was not harmed.
Damian had been fighting, put his all to not be captured, yet it had been child’s play to the other. Heat rushed through him, his breath picking up slightly as he swallowed the excess saliva that was flooding his mouth.
What would it feel like to have those gauntlets run through his hair? Where was this urge to fill his mouth coming from? Why did he want those fingers shoved down his throat? Why was the idea of being overpowered, of being manhandled as he’d been earlier driving him wild? Why did he want to be made to submit?
“Hello? Robin? There’s nothing in here that will break his mind, right?!? I just skimmed it, I didn’t see anything like that, but -”
Right.
The King had asked him something.
“Bad news first,” Damian managed to get out.
“Uh, so you’re not going to be able to leave for at least six months, although it could take up to nine... There’s also a bunch of wild compulsion spells and stuff. We can break a lot of them before they fully sink in, but some of the nastier ones, it’ll be easier to swap them out with milder ones and break them in the future. I’m not like, great, when it comes to magic stuff, so that’s just my understanding of it. If you need a more in depth one, one of the Observants can explain it to you,” this King said, pointing to the one eyed beings behind him.
“As for the good news… We have human food! And despite all this magic stuff, we’re just gonna treat you like a guest, kay? No slave shit. At least, as little as we can, and we’ll try to break those spells first. Uh, we do have ways of contacting the world of the living. So you can tell your fellow Bats and stuff you’re okay. And your family. Oh fuck, your family. Oh shit.”
Damian felt a sense of amusement at his panic, but he also wanted to soothe the King. The King shouldn’t be like this, he needed to do something to -
NO
“When can you start removing these spells?” The King looked at him, surprised.
“Oh? You believe me now?” he asked, amused. Damian grit his teeth.
“I have been experiencing strange urges. If you are correct, those should dissipate once those spells are removed. I am willing to take the risk to trust you - for the moment.”
“Oh. OH. Right, yeah, let’s - let’s get those taken care of now. I - uh. Shoot, I already tied your legs. Well. Sorry about this, it won’t be super comfortable, but it’ll be quick!”
Damian had no time to protest as the King leaned him forward, summoning additional Lazarus green ropes. He felt them loop around the anchor points in the center of his back, at his shoulders, and around his hips. The ropes went taut, pulling Damian up into the air, suspending him.
Before he could stop it, a breathy moan left his mouth.
Damian felt his cheeks turn red.
How humiliating.
Yet his cock twitched, leaking even more pre cum. With how much had been dripping out of his length, it would only be a matter of time before it began to escape the cup, wetting the front of his armored costume with his arousal. It would just be further evidence of how turned on he was, his nipples still stiff and hard, beginning to chafe a bit from rubbing against his uniform since the moment his upper body had been wrapped in rope.
The King practically ran down the hall, Damian suspended in the air next to him. He really should be paying attention to where they were going, but his mind was fuzzy, hazy. Damian really wished he wasn’t clothed like this. He was certain those ropes would feel exquisite against his skin.
He whined sadly as he was set down in the center of the room, the King rushing to the edge of the room, leaving Damian alone. Had he not been good? Had his King not enjoyed lifting him into the air? Damian was panting at this point, his eyes half lidded. He turned his head, eyes following his King. Damian swallowed, shame filling his gut.
No.
No.
He would not succumb to these ridiculous spells.
He sat there stiffly, as the King and some of the Observants began to chant.
Damian did not know how long he sat there, but he could feel the magic as it left his body. With each one, his mind cleared. It was comforting to know that the monarch had not lied so far, that he could somewhat trust the King. He sighed softly, relaxing in his bonds. If Damian was going to have to stay for a while, he would need to know the actual name of the King.
The King approached, kneeling next to Damian once the chanting stopped.
“Is that better? We got rid of the ones we could, and we’re going to start swapping out some of the others soon.” The King’s concern was clear in his voice.
“Much better. Thank you. I do not believe you introduced yourself.” The King groaned, putting his face in his hands.
“I’ve been doing a fucking terrible job being King today, haven’t I? I’m Phantom, High King of the Infinite Realms. Sorry about all of this… this mess. I promise I’m a better ruler than what you’ve seen so far,” the King, Phantom, said, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I cannot let you take all the blame. I knew that spell would make me your slave, however, I was desperate enough to try it anyway. The blame for all of this is not truly on your shoulders. You are far kinder than I had expected.”
There was a brief, awkward silence.
“Are all of the sexual compulsion spells gone?” Damian asked, keeping his voice even and neutral. He still felt an undercurrent of desire, keeping him half hard, so he doubted all of those spells had been undone. Still, it would be good to know how many were left.
“Right, about that… see, turned out there weren’t any sexual compulsion spells? There was just your generic obedience spells, wanting to please and serve the King, that sort of shit,” the King replied nervously.
“Do NOT lie to me! I know what I feel, there were some, and there are still some now,” Damian snarled, anger surging through him.
Phantom’s eyes narrowed. He reached out, his hand gripping Damian’s chin in an iron grip, forcing Damian to look the monarch in the eye.
“I am not lying. There were no sexual spells. I understand your… budding submissive urges are frightening and that you are unable to accept them - at the moment. I admit that using shibari to tie you up was a mistake, however, in my defense, normal knots would not hold you. I have no interest in someone who is unsure of what they want, and can’t ask for it like a good boy. Consent is very important to me,” Phantom’s voice was hard, like steel, leaving no room for argument.
Damian’s breathing picked up, his body hot and aroused, his cock filling with blood till he was hard once more. He couldn’t move his eyes away from the Lazarus green ones that bored into his domino covered ones.
“If you can promise to not attack anyone, I will release you now. After we do these last few swaps with the spells, you can run with your tail between your legs to your room and pretend that none of this happened. Got it?”
Phantom’s fingers were right there, on his chin. They were so close to his mouth, maybe he could -
“Answer me Robin. Yes or No, do you understand?”
Damian attempted to nod, but those fingers, oh those fingers prevented it.
“Yes,” he rasped out. “Yes, I understand.”
“Good,” the King replied curtly, his hand leaving Damian’s chin.
Phantom snapped, and the ropes holding Damian disappeared. He suppressed a whimper. Though he’d only had them for what he suspected was less than an hour, Damian felt their loss acutely. The warmth and comfort they had brought was gone. He shoved down the part of him that wanted desperately to beg the King for the ropes back.
Phantom waited a moment, checking that Damian wasn’t going to start attacking. Satisfied, he stood up, leaving Damian once again in the center of the room. Able to move once more, Damian rubbed his wrists. They didn’t hurt, and there was no rope burn, however it felt good to flex them after being held behind his back for some time.
He still felt rather hazy, but it was dissipating, his heart rate slowing and his arousal draining away slowly. One of the Observants floated over hesitantly, wary of him. Shakily, it explained the stronger magics keeping Damian near King Phantom would begin to cause him physical pain if he strayed if it was not swapped with a different one. There was a milder form they could swap it out with, but it would create a collar and a leash around his neck. It would generally keep him confined to the Keep, but would provide him with a lot more freedom than the current spell in place.
Shame burned inside him once more. However, it would allow him to move around the castle unrestricted. A physical collar around his neck was a small price to pay. They also replaced a spell that would cause him to sacrifice his life for the King to one that would require him to attempt to protect Phantom, were he to ever be in danger.
Those were… acceptable. Better than the originals.
As soon as all the magic was complete, he demanded to be brought to his chambers. He hated that he was doing exactly as Phantom had said, running away from the entire situation. Damian also desperately needed to find release, and if he did so with his own fingers in his mouth, pretending they were someone else’s? Well, only Damian would know that.
***
Danny groaned, putting his head in his hands.
Fuck.
He had not been expecting any of this! Danny had been chilling, working on running an entire dimension and trying to be a college student, when he’d been pulled into the living world with an entire army of the undead. Once he’d stopped Darkseid, which, Holy Shit, that was Darkseid, someone Superman and the Justice League had struggled to face before! After that, he’d been sent back to his keep, only for Robin to appear.
Danny had felt his heart sink in dread and horror. How could they have sacrificed one of their own? Especially Robin, who was probably barely an adult?!? Subduing Robin had been tough, the man angry and fighting for his life. Danny had felt like an absolute genius when he’d used shibari, which he’d been practicing on duplicates of himself for eventual (hopefully) sexual encounters.
Danny hadn’t expected Robin to react the way he had, to just start - start dropping like that. That breathy moan. Those flushed cheeks. His whine when Danny left him in the middle of the room. The way he’d stared at Danny as if he had all the answers in the world. How he’d responded and answered so sweetly when Danny had forced him to look at him. Ancients, he’d never had an actual sub before, but damn, Robin was making him long for one.
It would be wrong though.
Incredibly wrong to do anything with Robin.
The power dynamic between them, especially with all the magic that was still swirling around Robin, which would take months to break? Yeah, not good. He couldn’t give in to his desires.
He’d just… have to take care of himself before he went to bed.