Some day, this will be a "Last.fm/NetFlix/Amazon for web fiction" (both original and fanfiction) where you can search across many different hosting sites or rate what you've read and get recommendations. However, life keeps throwing more urgent projects my way, so I don't know when it'll be ready.
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/11814598/17/"Kirche, can you get that?" Groaning in protest, but not sufficiently catlike to avoid being useful, she sauntered over to the door and opened it to confront... a cultist?
I thought everyone knew the dark hooded cloak look is super passé, she thought irritably.
"May I help you?" Curt seemed reasonable. Disturbing Kirche's skinship is a serious faux pas, after all. The figure at the door stiffened at the greeting.
"Ah, my apologies. Is this not Louise de La Vallière's room?" Okay, so not a cultist. A woman. Visiting in the night.
Now this, I can use. The not-so-cultist barely had time for an "eep" at the toothy grin she received when Kirche latched on and unceremoniously hauled her into the room.
"Louise, you scamp! I didn't know you had it in you!" Presenting the unfortunate caller triumphantly, her hands began to wander. "Pushing me away all this time when you already have another, why didn't you say anything!?" The captive squirmed and squealed protest a bit as Kirche cupped a breast and traced the other along her hip, "And such a lovely figure, too! What's your secret?"
In the midst of the struggle, the hood fell. With a clear view of who exactly it was the Germanian was feeling up, everyone froze. Clearing her throat, Louise narrowed her eyes.
"Kirche? Could you please do us all a huge favour?" It sounded sweet, but there was a certain... "danger" to her tone that only fanned Kirche's flames.
"Oh, my peach! You know I am yours for the taking as well; this changes my feelings not one bit!" Eyebrow twitching, Louise savagely clamped down on the urge to blow her up, ignored the extremely Kirche-like misconception, and continued.
"Could you please stop molesting the princess?" Eyes widening in recognition of the purple hair, she craned her head over the cloaked shoulder and found herself face to face with a deeply blushing monarch.
"Well, this is awkward." The most unusual thing to happen that night may well have been Kirche demonstrating any capacity for sheepishness.
"Indeed."
Beat.
"By the by, you may unhand my breast now."
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