Always Right
Title: Always Right
Author: dorksidefiker
Fandom: That Damn Mpreg
Table/Prompt: 49. The man takes seriously the prediction of death
Character/Pairing: Ambrose, Zeke
Rating: PG
Word Count: 305
Summary: Ambrose isn’t too impressed with Zeke’s taste in men.
Authors Notes/Disclaimer: Mine!
Ambrose took Zeke by the arm and pulled him aside. “He doesn’t mean that, does he?” the werewolf hissed.
Zeke nodded, his expression still grim. “Bob can’t be bothered to lie about that.”
“But she’s your sister.” Ambrose felt a shudder run through him as he thought on the sorcerer’s cold words about Angel Starsmore.
Zeke nodded. “Yeah. And she set fire to Buenos Aries, and she’s killed a few thousand people since that. Besides, he’s never been wrong about a prediction before.”
“But Angel…”
“She made her choice,” Zeke said sharply, “and maybe we can get her back, but if I go, I won’t be coming back.” He closed his eyes. “I hate that he’s always right. Horrible trait in a boyfriend.”
“Yeah,” Ambrose muttered, “Bobby’s a real winner.”
“You never like my boyfriends,” Zeke teased, mood lifting. Or maybe he was only pretending to pull himself from the gloom for Ambrose’s sake. Sometimes it was hard to tell with Zeke.
“Because you have shitty taste in guys. Case in point-” He nodded towards Bobby, who was engaged in conversation with one of the Guthries. “He’s a dick.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You said that about all of them. Including your cousin.”
“Horace is a dick. We should introduce him to Bobby.”
“They’ve met,” Zeke informed Ambrose with a snort.
“No.”
“Yes. He knows your gran, it turns out. Scary woman, wears black, has an army of cats and grandchildren?”
“He knows Gran-Gran?” Ambrose shuddered in horror. “Run, Zeke. Run while you can. This world is just way too small.”
Author: dorksidefiker
Fandom: That Damn Mpreg
Table/Prompt: 49. The man takes seriously the prediction of death
Character/Pairing: Ambrose, Zeke
Rating: PG
Word Count: 305
Summary: Ambrose isn’t too impressed with Zeke’s taste in men.
Authors Notes/Disclaimer: Mine!
Ambrose took Zeke by the arm and pulled him aside. “He doesn’t mean that, does he?” the werewolf hissed.
Zeke nodded, his expression still grim. “Bob can’t be bothered to lie about that.”
“But she’s your sister.” Ambrose felt a shudder run through him as he thought on the sorcerer’s cold words about Angel Starsmore.
Zeke nodded. “Yeah. And she set fire to Buenos Aries, and she’s killed a few thousand people since that. Besides, he’s never been wrong about a prediction before.”
“But Angel…”
“She made her choice,” Zeke said sharply, “and maybe we can get her back, but if I go, I won’t be coming back.” He closed his eyes. “I hate that he’s always right. Horrible trait in a boyfriend.”
“Yeah,” Ambrose muttered, “Bobby’s a real winner.”
“You never like my boyfriends,” Zeke teased, mood lifting. Or maybe he was only pretending to pull himself from the gloom for Ambrose’s sake. Sometimes it was hard to tell with Zeke.
“Because you have shitty taste in guys. Case in point-” He nodded towards Bobby, who was engaged in conversation with one of the Guthries. “He’s a dick.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You said that about all of them. Including your cousin.”
“Horace is a dick. We should introduce him to Bobby.”
“They’ve met,” Zeke informed Ambrose with a snort.
“No.”
“Yes. He knows your gran, it turns out. Scary woman, wears black, has an army of cats and grandchildren?”
“He knows Gran-Gran?” Ambrose shuddered in horror. “Run, Zeke. Run while you can. This world is just way too small.”