#raven!reader

It’s rare that Simon finds time to himself between being at base and being on an op. True alone time, with nothing to do, and nobody to do anything with. 

His ride won’t arrive for two days, and Price (quite firmly) advised him to ‘enjoy the scenery, Norway is stunning this time of year, son.’ Really, Simon doesn’t give two fucks about the scenery or the apparent good weather, no, that’s not the reason he’s grateful to be isolated at a safehouse for the next day and a half.

It’s because of you.

Rather, more specifically, the freedom it allows you, short as the time may be. You’ve been cooped up (pun only slightly intended) in your raven form for several weeks now, as your mate has been sent from one mission to the next back to back, hardly any time to catch your breath, let alone free yourself from your feathered body. Now, you can stretch your arms (done enough of stretching your wings, frankly) and relax.

After shifting, of course.

Simon lifts you to his masked face and presses a featherlight kiss to your beak through the material before he sets you on the ground, your talons clicking against the concrete floor. You tilt your head, caw at him quietly, and see the corners of his eyes crinkle. 

“Not goin’ anywhere, lovie, take your time,” he assures you.

He watches you lift your wings and ruffle out your feathers, head shaking, plumage fluffing up. He knows you’re gathering your nerve. You can crow and bay about being stuck in this form all you want (which you do), but actually changing out of it is a different beast to tackle. It makes you anxious, he knows, he understands. If he could take away the pain, he would. Anything that dares to hurt you, he crushes without remorse, but being unable to do so for this one thing is torturous. All he can do is watch, and he hates it.

With as deep of a breath as your little avian lungs can take in, you close your eyes and concentrate. For a second, nothing happens, but then–

It starts with your ribs fracturing, heart growing too large to be contained inside their bony embrace. Your wings lose their feathers, bones stretching and distorting, muscles tearing to reconstruct themselves into the correct shape. Your beak shrinks back, the pure coal shade altering to match your natural skintone, shine reducing, keratin flaking off in large chunks. Your talons scratch at the concrete, legs mangling to develop an anatomy not built to resemble anything birdlike at all. 

It’s a nightmare to witness from start to end. It’s one thing to experience it himself, to feel as his body breaks itself apart to become something else – he’s far too used to experiencing pain – but to see you go through it makes him sick. If only, if only–

Your choked cry distracts him from his swirling thoughts of regret and revenge, and he’s reaching out in an instant to grasp your arms, fingers looping around skin, rather than feathers. He pulls you into his chest, and you go willingly, coughing and groaning as the last of your transformation ebbs away, leaving you bare and shivering. 

The blanket he prepared earlier, thin and shitty but better than nothing, gets thrown over your body, covering most of you, as he murmurs reassurances and praise in that gravely voice of his. It rumbles through him, vibrates past your ribs, into your soul, a kind of soothing comfort that only he can give to you.

“There she is,” he says, rubbing up and down the length of your spine. “There’s my pretty girl.”

You exhale heavily, eyes squeezed shut, chin propped up on his shoulder. “That sucked.”

“I know, swee’eart,” he assures, nuzzling into your jaw. “I know. ‘S over now.”

The pain is gone, long gone, vanished as soon as you wriggled your fingers and toes, but the memory persists, the nausea that swirls in your gut. The nuts and berries he fed you earlier suddenly feel like pebbles in a large lake, not nearly enough to make a ripple in your hunger.

You let him coo at you and coax you down from your stressed state, easing you into his lap, legs thrown over one thigh, back supported by the other that he has upright. He brushes stray strands of hair from your forehead, his mask discarded at his side so he can pepper kisses all over your face, calloused thumbs rubbing across your cheeks over and over.

“Been too long since I’ve seen ya face, birdie,” he tells you, his lips moving against the corner of your mouth. “Almos’ forgot how pretty ya were.”

You snort at him. “Charmer.”

He huffs and kisses your forehead. An arm coils around your waist and tugs you further into him, eliminating as much space as possible between you. With his free hand, the one that’s not drawing shapes into your skin, he reaches into his pack behind him and pulls out a couple granola bars, dropping them onto your lap. You scrabble to get them, tearing open the first package and gnawing on the chunky, stiff food like a dog given a bone.

“‘Oo shoo’d shiff, doo, fish ‘our fea-fers,” you suggest around your meager meal, uncaring of manners.

Simon feels differently, sighing into your hair. “Finish ya bite first, you wally,” he grumbles.

You scowl at him, but do as you’re told, chewing away until it’s safe for you to swallow and not risk choking. “Said, you should shift, too, fix your feathers and stuff. Who knows when you’ll get the chance to preen again?”

The monolith of a man – how did he manage to stuff all that excess…everything into a tiny (subjectively) bird body? phrasing, of course – grunted in disagreement, absentmindedly massaging your hip. “And miss quali’y time with my girl? Not a chance, swee’eart.”

Despite how you playfully roll your eyes, you snuggle into his warmth, breathing in the scent of him. Leather and gunsmoke, eyeblack and faded menthol, cling to him like a second skin. It’s a familiar scent, a safe one; it lets you know that, no matter what, you’ll always be protected, always looked after. He’s right, it’s been too long since you could hold each other like this, coexist in the same space as the same entity.

As if sensing your thoughts, he tilts your chin up so he can press a chaste, precious kiss to your lips. “Missed ya,” he confesses.

“You always see me,” you point out. “Every day.”

“Not like this.”

You chirrup, a reflexive response. He chuckles at your flustered expression, but answers back with a deep trill of his own.

Your eyes close as you lean into him, nosing at his cheek. “And here I thought you got sick of seeing me in this form.”

“Never,” he promises.

inspired by the incredibly lovely @beloveds-embrace's raven!Simon and raven!reader. they've been on my mind a LOT recently, and I have many many thoughts about them. might write more...

• Powers (You have all the powers of the scarlet Witch/Wanda Maximoff From Wanda vision but…Purple not red….You also have all the powers of Raven/Rachel Roth from titians 2018)

• Your Eyes

• Hand/Claw Options

• Your Crown

• Wings and Horns (Inspired by Maleficent)

• Your Teeth (Inspired By Abigail Lazar From Abigail 2024)

• Your Outfit (Inspired By Maleficent)

• Phoenix Form

• Full Name: Y/n L/n

• Height: 8’9

• Age: 16 Billion Years Old

• Personality: Kind, Loving, Caring, Calm, Serious, Sarcastic, Etc

• Allas: The Dark Fey, Fey Goddess, The Fey Goddess, Amethyst Witch, The Amethyst Witch (you know…instead of ‘the scarlet witch’ it’s ‘the Amethyst Witch’), Demon, The Demon, Queen y/n, Etc

• Hair Color: Raven Black (with a purple hair streak)

• Sexuality: Bisexual

• Species: Fey/Demon/Phoenix Goddess

• Skin Color: Very Pale

banner by saradika-graphics!

Simon wasn’t as good at hiding his emotions in his other form as he would like to be. 

It was bad enough as is, it certainly didn’t help that you teased him about it, too. As a human, he had his mask to hide behind, the persona of Ghost to adorn to help him tone down his emotions and negate his outwardly reactions. Whenever he shifted, all of that went away, leaving him nothing more than a poor little thing that wore his heart on his wing.

As much as it embarrassed him, though, he wouldn’t change it for the world, not if it meant that your delighted smile and giggles would go away.

Which is why he didn’t fight the way his tail began wagging as he spotted your approach, nor the instinctive croon he let out as soon as you were within earshot. And, like clockwork, your expression lit up with a bright grin, your eyes crinkling into crescents from its sheer size. You jogged to close the rest of the distance between you, your arm automatically lifting to receive him.

He hopped off the fence he was perched on, gliding down to settle onto your forearm, beak immediately going to bonk your cheek.

“Yes, yes, I missed you, too,” you consoled him. “I was only gone a minute, love.”

He squawked at you, and you snorted, pecking him right in the middle of his little forehead. The trill he let out caused you to smirk; you knew he was just pretending to be a big, tough guy. The way he melted into you told an entirely different story from the angry croaks he let out, chattering away as you strolled further along the fenceline to find the spot you usually sat in together.

“It’s not my fault that you forgot to grab your baggie of snacks,” you argued back. “Do you know how hard it was to sneak into your room to grab it?”

The raven merely stared at you.

Rolling your eyes, you plopped down into a cross-legged position, leaning back against the fence to get comfy. Simon hopped off your arm and settled onto your thigh, opening and tucking his wings against his back. He waited (im)patiently for you to pull out the ziplock and open it for him. You held it up in your hand, but he only cocked his head, his expectations evident.

You let out a playful groan and reached into the bag to pull out a handful of nuts and dried fruits, holding them up for him to peck at as he pleased. He ruffled his feathers and got to snacking, partaking in the food that he packed for himself like he was some food critic, judging a poor newcomer’s first attempt at a halfway decent meal. Nobody would believe you if you told them that Simon of all people was a drama queen, but that was a secret you were happy to keep to yourself.

As he busied himself with snacking, you got to work preening him. Nimble fingers dug through his feathers, starting at his head. You gently cracked open the keratin sheaths that enclosed new plumage, brushing off the pieces that came free. When you offered some up to him to eat, he leveled you with the most deadpan expression a bird could manage.

“Oh, come off it,” you glared back. “It’s good for you. Get some nutrients back into you.”

He glanced between the food in your palm, to you, back, forth, back, and forth once more. You exhaled through your nose and tossed away the sheaths, blowing a raspberry at him. “Picky little bird,” you accused him, lightly flicking his beak. He bit at your finger in return, nibbling on the length playfully until you conceded.

You enjoyed each other’s company, both occupied – then, you spotted something in his treat mix that he most definitely was not allowed to have.

“Aht!” You rushed to pluck out the bunch of M&Ms you saw, grabbing all of them, even as he squawked and nipped at your fingertips in an attempt to cease your theft. “Simon, Simon, quit it, you know you’re not allowed to have these in this form.”

He croaked, his feathers hackled with anger, but you quickly knocked them back into your mouth before he could snatch them back. Poor thing deflated like you popped his balloon animal, his wings drooping in defeat.

You chewed through the candy and leaned down to kiss his beak. “Silly raven,” you murmured. “You can’t have chocolate. I promise I’ll get you a new bag of M&Ms when you’re back to your normal form.”

Simon sighed as big of a sigh as a raven his size could, eyes closing so he could lean into your warmth.

The peace was suddenly shattered by someone calling his name.

You bolted upright, Simon scooped up to perch on your hand, trail mix left to fall to the ground to be forgotten. A man rounded the corner, one you recognized as belonging to Simon’s team. That, unfortunately, didn’t save you from the cold rush of panic that poured over you like ice.

“Ghost, ye fookin’ sassanack, where are–” he abruptly stopped when he saw you, freezing in place as you stared at each other. “What the fuck.”

You opened your mouth, but no sound came out. What could you even tell him? Hi, I’m Simon’s partner, you’ve probably seen me around. Wha– oh, no, not in this form, no, I’m the raven that never leaves his side!

As if.

In a split second, he went from surprised to dead serious, thick brows furrowing over glistening blues that solidified into hard indigo. You couldn’t blame him, you were a trespasser, technically. An unknown on a secure military base. For all he knew, you were an enemy.

He took a step towards you, and all hell broke loose.

Simon crowed loudly and leapt from your hand, speeding off in the opposite direction. Your instincts kicked in, and you made a break for it, racing after him. You heard shouting from the other man, chaos unfolding behind every twist and turn that your mate led you down. You didn’t think, just let your psyche take over, your mind and heart screaming at you to run run run!

You felt feathers begin to break through your skin, your bones preparing to shift to accommodate a different form, your feet carrying you as fast as you could go to get a flying start–

• Your Powers (you have powers just like the Scarlet witch/Wanda Maximoff From Wanda Vision…but Emerald Green not Red…You also Have the powers of a vampire…You Also Have Powers Just Like Raven/Rachel Roth From Titians)

• Your Horns And Wings (Inspired by Maleficent)

• Your Phoenix Form (Inspired By Maleficent)

• Your Claws (Options)

• Your Hands

• Vampire Teeth And Eyes (Inspired By Abigail Lazar From Abigail 2024)

• Your Personality (Inspired By Wednesday)

• Full Name: Y/n L/n The Goddess Of The Multiverse

• Allas: The Emerald Witch (instead of ‘the scarlet witch’ it’s ’the emerald witch’), The Ultimate Being, Very Intimidating, The Phoenix, The Vampire, The Most Powerful Being In The Multiverse, The Goddess Of The Multiverse, Very Tall, One Of The Most Powerful Beings In The Entire Multiverse, The Most Powerful Vampire In The Multiverse, The Witch, The Hybrid, Etc

• Species: Vampire/Dark Fey/Phoenix Hybrid Goddess

• Height: 9,7

• Age: 7 Billion Years Old

• Hair Color: Raven Black (With A Green Streak In Your Hair)

• Eye Color: (your eye color)

• When Using Your Powers Eye Colors (When Using Raven’s/Rachel Roth’s Powers The Whites Of Your Eyes Turn black…And The Gem On Your Head And (your eye color) Eyes Glow A Emerald Green, When Using Your Scarlet Witch Powers The Eyes Glow A Emerald Green)

• Vampire Eye Color: Pale Blue

• Type Of Villain: Godly-Reality Warper

Name’s: y/n Roth, Raven

described as: the raven, the destroyer of worlds, space witch, trangic sorceress, etc

powers/skills: skilled combatant, stealth, charisma, indomitable will, surperhuman strength, soul sealing, umbrakinesis, illusion casting, magic absorption, telepathic linking, effgy animation, portal creation, high intelligence, force Feild, dark magic, healing, empathy, Divination, clairvoyance, energy sensing, Memory manipulation, Telekinesis, Telekinetic blast, Telekinetic teleportation, Disintegration, Levitation, Magic

Species: Human-Demon hybrid