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rawbonedhound · 2 months ago

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Read from the beginning on AO3!

John had been in Hell before.

It was never the same place twice.

This time, it was a city of fire and ruin, sprawled beneath a sky of molten red. Towers of blackened bone twisted into the heavens, their peaks vanishing into an endless storm of smoke and embers. The streets were paved with charred skulls, crushed underfoot by the monstrous things that prowled between the ruins— hulking shadows, too many limbs, eyes that gleamed like burning coals.

And at the center of it all, chained to a slab of obsidian, stripped to the waist, was John Constantine. His arms were wrenched above him, shackled in iron that burned hotter than the flames around him, the metal eating into his wrists. The skin of his chest was slick with sweat and blood, the air around him thick with the stench of sulfur.

A demon loomed over him, faceless save for a gaping maw of jagged teeth. In its clawed hands, an iron brand glowed white-hot.

John grit his teeth as it pressed the searing metal to his side.

The sizzle of flesh burned into the air.

John hissed, his body arching involuntarily, but he refused to scream.

He'd been here before.

He knew how this game was played.

A slow, rumbling laugh echoed through the infernal city.

"Such resilience," came a voice deep enough to shake the foundations of Hell itself. "And yet, still so weak."

John forced himself to breathe through the pain, lifting his head to see the towering form approaching.

Trigon.

The demon king loomed over him, red-skinned and crowned with curling horns, four glowing eyes burning into John like coals. His enormous form blocking out what little light Hell had to offer, his taloned hands folded behind his back in mockery of civility.

John smirked, despite the agony radiating through his ribs.

“Well, well, the big man himself. Thought you’d send one of your lapdogs to do the dirty work, but here you are." He grinned, bloody and defiant. “What's the occasion?"

Trigon's lips curled. "I like to see my investments suffer personally."

John let out a short, breathless laugh. "Investment? Mate, you got swindled."

The demon's expression darkened, his wings flexing. "And yet, you are the one chained at my feet."

John tilted his head. "Yeah, well. Give it a minute."

Trigon chuckled, low and cruel. “You still think she'll come for you?" He stepped closer, his massive form nearly blotting out the sky. "You think she was meant for you?"

John spat blood onto the scorched ground. "I think you're a bloody idiot if you think she'll ever belong to you."

Trigon's eyes flashed. "She already belongs to me."

John opened his mouth to retort—

And then the air split apart.

A vortex of red lightning and black fire erupted just beyond them, a tear in the very fabric of Hell itself.

And from within it— A figure emerged.

Tall. Terrible. Wreathed in shadow and flame.

Her horns, massive and spiraling, crowned her head like an infernal queen, her hair wild and white like a corona of smoke. Four burning eyes locked onto Trigon with a fury that made even the demons recoil.

She was Raven.

But she was not the girl who had fallen asleep in John's arms.

She was something greater. Darker.

And she had come to wage war.

John stared, his breath catching in his throat.

Bloody hell.

The air crackled with tension as Raven stood, fully transformed, she was almost as large as the giant Trigon himself. Her clawed hands clenched into fists, radiating an aura of power that caused the very ground beneath her to tremble.

Trigon, monstrous in his own right, loomed above her, his towering form engulfed in fiery, molten power. His deep, malevolent eyes flickered with amusement as he looked down at his daughter. His voice was a dark rumble as he spoke, disdain dripping from every word.

“You think you can defeat me, Raven?” he boomed, his voice shaking the realm. “You will never escape your fate. You are mine, and nothing will change that.”

Raven’s lips curled into a fierce, defiant grin. “I don’t need to escape anymore, Father.” Her voice was laced with the power of her transformation, vibrating with energy. “This is where it ends.”

With a swift motion, she reached out, her magic swirling around her fingers, and she broke the obsidian chains binding John. The shattered pieces of the stone flew through the air, cutting through the demons that had been lurking nearby, piercing their flesh and draining their power as they fell. Raven’s eyes flashed with fierce determination, and she unleashed the energy contained within the broken shards, using them as projectiles to fight her father.

Each shard of obsidian she hurled toward Trigon dug into his molten skin, searing through his defenses, draining the power from him with every strike. The more she attacked, the weaker he became, the power being siphoned away as his massive form staggered backward.

Trigon growled in frustration, his eyes glowing brighter with rage. He slammed his fists into the ground, sending shockwaves of hellfire toward his daughter. Raven, undeterred, raised her hand, conjuring a shield of dark energy to deflect the blast. The heat of the fire burned against the shield, but Raven’s grip on her magic remained steady, her resolve unwavering.

With a roar, Trigon charged at her, his enormous form rushing forward with the force of a thousand storms. Raven leaped into the air, her wings unfurling, taking her higher into the infernal sky. She hovered above him, looking down at her father with contempt.

“You’re nothing but a beast, Father.” Raven’s voice rang out, her magic crackling around her as she gathered energy. “A monster with no power left but the lies you’ve fed yourself.”

She slammed both hands together, sending a massive wave of dark energy cascading toward him. The blast hit Trigon square in the chest, knocking him backward, his feet skidding across the ground. His form buckled, and for the first time, a crack appeared in his molten skin, revealing the weakness beneath his demonic armor.

Raven swooped down, her claws glowing as she shot toward him with the speed of a lightning strike. She landed with a devastating force, her claws sinking into his chest, tearing through the layers of his molten skin. Trigon roared in agony, swiping at her with his massive fists. Raven dodged each blow with lightning speed, her newfound strength allowing her to move faster than ever before. She countered with strikes of her own, each one draining more of his power.

Meanwhile, John, now freed from his chains, had his own fight to manage. The demons, sensing their lord’s defeat, attempted to swarm him, but John was ready. With each brand they wielded against him, he fought back, using their own weapons against them. His anger and desperation fueled his every move as he tore through them, his magic and quick reflexes giving him the upper hand.

“Stay out of my way!” John shouted as he blasted another demon into the abyss with a surge of magic. His eyes were locked on Raven, his heart pounding as he watched her fight, knowing that their fates were intertwined.

Back in the heart of the battle, Raven’s claws slashed through Trigon’s chest again, and the power she drained from him fueled her strength. With a snarl, she lifted her father high into the air, her dark magic wrapping around him like chains. She squeezed her hands, her energy building to a crescendo, and with a final, devastating burst of power, she tore him apart from the inside out. The ground quaked as Trigon’s massive form crumbled, his body disintegrating into ash and flame.

The battle had finally come to an end, the dust settling in the wake of Trigon’s collapse. The vast, hellish landscape was now eerily quiet, save for the crackle of residual magic in the air.

Raven stood tall, her massive form looming like a dark titan, her four eyes still glowing with the power she had unleashed. Her breathing was steady but heavy, and though the fight was over, the weight of it still lingered. Her claws clenched at her sides, her chest rising and falling as the last vestiges of her father’s influence slowly ebbed away.

High above the chaos, John stood atop one of the obsidian structures that had been the battleground. His figure looked small in comparison to the titanic form of Raven, but his eyes were locked on her, watching her carefully. He’d been keeping an eye on the remaining demons, fighting off the last of them while Raven finished what they had started.

As the rage of battle in her eyes flickered out, Raven’s gaze swept across the remains of the chaos and landed on John. She held out her hand, palm up, a quiet invitation. He didn’t hesitate. With a grin, John leapt down from the structure, landing lightly on her hand.

He made his way carefully up to her palm, finding a firm footing as Raven raised her hand to eye level. His heart swelled with pride at the sight of her—strong, powerful, and unstoppable in that moment.

“You did it, Raven,” John said, his voice full of admiration. He chuckled softly, brushing a lock of his hair back. “Bet Trigon’s nursing a hell of a headache right now.”

Raven felt a small, hesitant smile tug at her lips. Her eyes glowed with something softer now, a flicker of warmth that contrasted her intimidating form. She couldn’t help but laugh, a quiet but genuine sound that made her feel lighter despite the weight of what had just transpired.

“You’re impossible,” she teased, her voice still carrying the slight echo of power. She stared down at him, a faint trace of vulnerability creeping in. There was a part of her that couldn’t shake the worry—the fear that, now that the battle was over, he might see her as something… different. Something repulsive.

John’s smirk faded as he caught the flicker of doubt in her eyes. Stepping forward on her palm, he reached up, his fingers tracing a gentle path along her cheek. His voice dropped to something softer, steadier.

“You’re not just what they made you, love” he murmured. “You’re so much more than that.”

Without another word, John leaned up and placed a kiss gently on her forehead, between the two sets of her eyes. It was tender, a moment of quiet intimacy in the midst of their shared chaos. Raven’s breath hitched, and her eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of his lips against her skin.

Her form, still towering, seemed to sigh into itself as she shifted to just-above-human size, her strength and power still radiating from her. Her magic kept them both safe as she levitated them both to the ground, her feet touching the earth with a soft thud. John remained cradled in her arms, held gently, bridal style.

“You’re not half-bad yourself,” she murmured, her voice soft and warm.

John smirked, looking up at her, his arm wrapped around her neck as he settled into her embrace. “Not half-good either.” he said with a wink.

Raven smiled, the feeling of his trust, his affection, settling in her chest like something solid. She hadn’t been sure, hadn’t been entirely sure, but in that moment, surrounded by the ruin of battle and the quiet aftermath, Raven knew—they had made it through.

And as she held John in her arms, she knew that, despite everything, they were still together. They were still them.

#dc comics #fanfic #raven #teen titans #hellblazer #john constantine #strange loyalties #archive of our own

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rawbonedhound · 2 months ago

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Read from the beginning on AO3!

The cold was suffocating. It sank deep into Raven’s bones, into her blood, a chill that had nothing to do with temperature and everything to do with the magic pressing down on her like lead. The chains that bound her wrists and ankles weren’t metal—not really. They shimmered with spellwork, etched with sigils that drained her with every breath. The floor beneath her pulsed with layered circles of magic, sealing her in, keeping her powerless.

Her vision swam as she forced her eyes open. The room was too bright, the artificial glow of the Watchtower’s sterile lights stabbing through her skull.

Raven turned her head, sluggish, barely able to focus. Wonder Woman stood just outside the shimmering barrier of her cell, arms crossed, watching her in silence. Her expression was impassive, unreadable, but her eyes held something colder than the chains—something final.

Closer, kneeling at the edge of the glowing spellwork, was Zatanna. Her long, dark hair fell over her shoulders as she worked, murmuring under her breath, chalk in hand, finishing the last of the enchantments binding Raven in place, pointedly looking away from her.

Raven swallowed, her throat raw. The weight of exhaustion pulled at her limbs, but something heavier ached in her chest, a void deep and raw.

She shifted slightly, and only then, noticed the coat still draped over her shoulders.

His coat.

The last piece of him left in this world.

Her fingers curled into the fabric. It smelled like cigarette smoke and cider, and something that made the ache in her chest sharpen into a form unbearable. Her breath hitched. A tear slipped free from the eye on her temple, blurring her vision further.

She blinked it away, swallowing down the grief that burned in her throat.

“Zatanna,” she whispered, hoarse.

The other woman didn’t stop her work, didn’t look at her.

Raven forced herself to speak again, her voice trembling. “I’m sorry.”

This time, Zatanna’s hand faltered slightly, the chalk pausing against the cold metal floor.

Raven exhaled, clutching the coat tighter. “I—I loved him too,” she admitted, the words barely above a breath. “If I could bring him back, I—”

Zatanna’s fingers tightened around the chalk.

For the first time, she looked at Raven.

Her green eyes were unreadable, sharp and dark beneath the heavy shadow of her lashes. Slowly, she glanced over her shoulder—just briefly, subtly—at Wonder Woman, standing guard, silent and still.

Then she turned back to Raven, stepping over the chalk lines, closer than before.

Her expression didn’t shift. Her voice didn’t waver.

“Go to hell.”

She dropped the chalk. It cracked against the floor.

Without another word, she stood, brushing the dust from her hands, and strode away, her heels clicking with every step.

Wonder Woman followed.

The door hissed shut behind them.

Raven bowed her head, pressing her forehead—all three eyes—against the cold metal floor.

The chains hummed. The spellwork burned.

And she was alone.

The words still echoed in her head.

“Go to hell.”

Slowly, she lifted her head, her three eyes scanning the markings on the floor. The spellwork shimmered faintly, holding her bound, but as she traced the symbols—sigils layered over sigils, woven with binding magic and holy influence—she saw it.

The design wasn’t just a prison.

It was familiar. Too familiar

-The spiral of glyphs. The arrangement of seals. The mirrored placement of energy lines—

This wasn’t just a containment spell.

It was a separation ritual.

One that split the human from the demon.

One that John had meant to use.

Her breath caught. Had Zatanna known? Had she done this deliberately? Had she left it incomplete on purpose, knowing Raven would see? Or had it been some subconscious act, some lingering guilt that had guided her hand?

It didn’t matter.

The chalk was still there, the piece Zatanna had dropped.

Raven reached for it, her fingers trembling as she dragged herself upright. The chains burned against her skin, the spellwork weighing her down, but she moved.

She had to move.

Every muscle in her body protested as she crawled forward, fingers wrapping around the discarded chalk. Her breathing was ragged, her limbs shaking, but she forced herself to focus.

One mark. Then another.

She filled in the missing lines, completing the sigils, whispering the incantation under her breath.

The moment the final stroke was drawn, the air around her shifted.

The spell activated.

Raven gasped as she felt herself pull away.

From her body. From the weight of the chains. From the physical realm entirely.

Her soul was ripped free, dragged from the Watchtower, yanked into the void between worlds—

And then—

Darkness.

A sudden, suffocating heat.

The air thick with brimstone, pressing against her like a vice.

She opened her eyes.