Girl Genius Drabbles
Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic
results if they really want to.
Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.
Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here.
Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.
Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science
Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please
accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.
Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these
Disclaimer 6: If my characters' conversations seem odd or they appear to be talking past each other the latter might occasionally be intentional, but most
likely it is an accident and I'm not aware that they are. It's just my bad communication skills.
“Well, aren’t you pretty,” Klaus said running his hand over Jenka’s cheek. “Soft too. A soft and pretty little monster.”
Jenka knew better than to break formation. He just waned to provoke her obviously. He wasn’t that disgusting anyway. After all he was quite an impressive fighter with a nice ruthless and bloody style and a long list of victories. For a human.
She smiled at him showing just a hint of fangs. Two could play this game.
He kissed her.
Jenka obligingly opened her mouth for his tongue, sucked in his lip for good measure and bit down hard.
“I’d give you anything,” Lars said. “The sun, the moon and the stars.”
“You’re drunk,” said Agatha. “You wouldn’t make impossible promises like that, if you weren’t.”
“I’d give them to you, if I could,” Lars amended.
She looked at Lars’ kind loving face, but what she saw in her mind was still Gilgamesh Wulfenbach. It wasn’t fair. Lars was everything Gil was not, kind and sensitive and ordinary. There wouldn’t be any complications with loving Lars, no politics, no doubts, no deadly father. He was exactly what she needed.
“But you can’t,” Agatha said. Not that she wanted them.