Clan leader!Choso who proposed to you the second time in middle school- which was…which was an accident. He’d meant to hand you a confession letter but ended up proposing (whoops), either way uh- what was your answer again?

Clan leader!Choso who proposed to you the third time in high school, with a paper ring because the elders were doing what elders do best (being difficult). And it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t - as long as he has you.

When you use military talk it always makes Soap crack up.

The first time it happens he's playfully chasing you through the appartment. "You little shit! You ate the last one, don't deny it!", he is shouting after you. And when you just giggle he can feel his heart skip a beat.

"Can't prove it Johnny, maybe you ate it and forgot!", you counter. And you can hear the soft thumping of his feet speed up.

A drabble for the diamond party event, requested by anonymous.

Ship: bodyguard!Ghost x reader (gender neutral)

Type: AU, fluff, long drabble (433 words)

You were having trouble falling asleep because of a thunderstorm. The cracking loud noises of the thunders made you flinch every minute when suddenly the power went out. You stayed in your bed hugging the covers tight when you heard Ghost's voice outside the door: "You alright?" His previous jobs taught him that when power goes out, it's never a good sign, so protocol required him to check on you. "Uh..." you stammered, "I'm coming in" he informed you and opened the door to make sure of your safety.

Ghost found you holding onto the blankets for dear life: "Scared of thunders?" he chuckled. You shook your head when he pointed his flashlight at you, making your eyes burn for a second. "Ah, so you're scared I'm gonna steal ya blankets?" you huffed a laugh, letting them go slightly: "No um... it's just- I can't seem to relax with this damn thunderstorm" you sighed.

"Mh" that's all he said, and even if you couldn't see in the dark, you could tell he was planning something. That idea was confirmed when you heard his boots coming off. "Make room." he said bluntly, making you stammer: "uh... wha-?"

"On your bed. Make some room for me." he insisted, so you shifted to the edge of the bed to let him position himself.

"So uh..." you started, feeling a bit caged by his massive body. He just waited for you to continue: "...you're um... a former S.A.S.?"

He nodded, "yeah"

"mmh... cool, I heard the training is the hardest in the world"

"I dunno about tha', but t'was pretty tough"

you nodded, humming in understanding and running out of filler conversation sentences. You were feeling super small beside him, and the temperature in the room was getting hotter because, let's face it, he's a damn heater under the blankets.

Suddenly a thunder, the loudest you ever heard, popped, making you flinch and yelp, your body moving on its own and reaching for his arm.

Ghost chuckled softly, finding you extremely adorable. Your gesture fired up his protective instincts, which were already amplified by the fact that it was his duty to keep you safe and sound.

"Shh... it's just a thunder" he patted your shoulder to comfort you.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to-" you began to pull away but he wasn't having it: he clicked his tongue "Nah, none of that" and kept reassuring you, making you inevitably melt against his collarbone.

It was supposed to be a simple case.

No hostiles. No traps. No ominous chanting. Not even a single punch scheduled. Just a dusty, half-collapsed cottage and a handful of suspiciously robed mages who’d already been scooped up by Sanctuary patrols. Nice. Clean. Boring.

So naturally, there was a baby.

“A baby,” Valkyrie said flatly, staring down at the bassinet in the centre of the ruined living room. “In the middle of a crime scene.”

Skulduggery tilted his head. “Technically, it’s not in the middle. More… tastefully offset.”

“It’s a baby,” she repeated. “Next to a death sigil. Surrounded by what I’m pretty sure is blood and the bones of a chicken. Why is there always a chicken?”

He ignored her and crouched beside the bassinet, voice low and comforting. “You’re safe now,” he murmured, almost too quiet to hear.

Valkyrie blinked. “Did you just comfort the evidence?”

Skulduggery didn’t respond. Instead, he reached in and gently touched the edge of the blanket with one gloved hand. The baby blinked up at him, unbothered. A little glow flickered in its tiny fist, then fizzled out like a sparkler.

“Definitely magical,” he said softly. “Might be a conduit. Or a battery. Or a bomb. Hard to tell with babies.”

Valkyrie crouched beside him. “Should we be this close to something that’s potentially a magical warhead?”

Skulduggery straightened, carefully cradling the baby in his arms like it was made of glass. “If someone left them here, they were either trying to sacrifice them or protect them. Either way, they’re ours now. Chain of custody.”

“Chain of—Skulduggery, no. We can’t keep it. We don’t even keep plants.”

“You had a cactus once.”

“It exploded.”

“You overwatered it.”

She pointed at the baby. “This is not a cactus. This is a baby. With possible murder powers.”

The baby sneezed. A small flash of blue light lit up the corner of the room. The couch caught fire. Briefly.

Skulduggery patted its back. “Strong sneeze. Impressive.”

“I hate this,” Valkyrie groaned. “I hate you, I hate the building, I hate the lingering smell of roast chicken.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, already tucking the baby more securely into his arms. “It’s adorable. Look at it. All sparkly and wrathful.”

“I hate everything about this,” Valkyrie muttered.

“Exactly. You’re bonding already.”

She scowled. “I swear to god, if you start talking about names.”

“I was thinking Justice.”

“Put. The baby. Down.” Valkyrie hissed.