hi everyone! so exciting news - i penned an omake as a thank you for this fic. please find it on my profile - it's called if i can let you go as trees let go!

not much else on the nyo bulletin this week, hah, so please enjoy this chap!

as always, i do not own the selection nor hetalia. these belong to kiera cass and himaruya hidekaz respectively.

Yao sighed, placing his back to the front of Alfred's door. It had been a hectic night and he had just reconfirmed the Diamonds' support. With the court held in limbo and both kingdoms coming, he knew it was up to them to fix things right now.

He would talk with Katya that evening, but Alfred and Matthew were more important to look after. King Ludwig had apparently stopped talking with Alfred – he knew that the two of them were very close, and by the nervous tone of the maid that had attended to Ludwig the atmosphere between them was incredibly tense.

"Alfred, I-" he began, but paused at the sight that greeted him past the door.

Alfred had stopped, mouth wide open like a seal - the curve of his mouth stained with chocolate product. Yao's gaze trailed to the filmy bag of sweets and knew instantly exactly what was going on.

"Y-Yao?" he stammered, gathering up the pack of childishly coloured sweets, stuffing them in his pocket, but Yao knew the damage had already been done.

When Alfred and Matthew had still been children, the times when both their parents had been out of the country to attend to business, the two of them had holed up – Matthew with Kuma in his room, while Alfred had turned to a form of stress eating.

First it was the biscuit wrappers that he had overheard the maids grumbling about, then the rounding out in the seasons that followed their mother's death, then their father's. An assassination that had took advantage of his overwhelming grief, catching him at his most vulnerable moment, and the two of them.

Luckily, as the two of them had grown older, they had learned to cope with upheavals, but nothing of this stature. And the cracks were showing.

"Alfred, Alfred," Yao tutted, but it was one of a mentor rather than a scolding teacher as he gently prised away the sweets in his hand. "Alfred, my dear boy. Look at me."

Alfred stubbornly refused, biting his lip and looking away tightly –he studied the wall, the floral pattern something he had not really looked at as sugar numbed his brain and became a soothing balm on his battered heart.

"I won't be angry," Yao said, trying another tack, his hand reaching out to gently touch Alfred's shoulder, relieved to see that his hunched shoulders were relaxed now. "But if you want to be left alone, I understand."

"I'm sorry," Alfred murmured, folding into himself as he tucked his legs in and propped his chin on his arms. "I just…don't know what to do."

"What's going through your head right now?" Yao asked, not moving, not wanting to startle him.

"The person I chose," Alfred began, exhaling, blue eyes fixed firmly on the wall still, "I haven't spoken to them for a while, and there's stuff between us I'm scared I can't fix in time. What do I do then…?"

"Have you thought of anything?" Yao said, pursuing his lips and sitting down a little closer to Alfred. "The Deciding's all about choice, and yours is the most important above anyone else's. Have you talked to them since?"

"It's too late tonight," Alfred said dully. "I was thinking of hosting another Deciding if…if the other two won't be my second choice, but it's gonna be so expensive and…and the public might not like it, and you might get mad and the advisors-"

He broke off into sobs, burrowing his face into his arms, and Yao took that moment to embrace him, holding him in the cold and watching their breaths billow as Alfred cried out all the stress and confusion that had been bottling up in his system the past few days.

"Love isn't anything that can be forced," Yao murmured, stroking his hair, a mother taking care of his babe. "King Francis has drilled that into our heads since Fates knows when. If you find the need to host another if the one you care for does not want the position of queen, I will put your needs first. Always. And with the Diamonds and Clubs coming by the end of the week, they are more in check. With the people against them, they are the tyrants that will face their own cold fate."

"T-Thanks," Alfred sniffled, and accepted his mentor's touch, nose latching onto the familiar scent of Yao's raven black hair, the cold in his hands forgotten by the comforting warmth of his touch. "The fact that you're here, I…there's nothing I can exchange for it, Yao. But if it's OK, can you go see Matt before the night's up? I still worry for him."

"You've read my mind," Yao said lightly, but kissed the top of his head in farewell. "Sleep well, Alfred."

To his dismay, Matthew was sitting by Gilbert's bedside again by the time Yao had contacted a maid bundled in her winter coat about his whereabouts. Matthew's head had dipped onto Gilbert's chest, lips slightly parted – he had fallen asleep, the candle on his bedside table still burning.

"Ah, Matthew," Yao said softly, purloining a blanket from the next bed and arranging it around his shoulders, shielding him from the cold that permeated even the walls of the infirmary. Matthew shifted a little, but Yao could see that his grip on Gilbert's deflated hand only tightened.

Even though Yao would have his retribution on the advisors, he knew that it would not heal the hearts of his boys. His mother had instilled a duty to protect all members of the Primary Suit, and he had failed in his line of work. He had hoped that his experience with Ivan in their youth would have sobered him, but…

He lowered his eyes, pausing at the doorframe to give the two of them some space, as if he could atone for his mistakes again. Yao had never wanted to see them happen before his eyes again, but Ivan was still occupying his mind and now it had happened to Matthew tenfold. Had he failed so miserably as a guardian?

Also, there was the matter of Ivan coming to Spades, something that Yao could not resist forcing him to stay home for, seeing that he both needed the kingdom's support and so desperately, so pathetically still loved him with all his heart, even if it was in secret and always would be.

Stay strong, as you have asked of Matthew and Alfred, Yao thought internally to himself as he conjured up a little whiff of magic and sent it to blow out the candles, leaving the room in a calmer atmosphere. For the good of both them and the kingdom.

He could feel the emotion, the perfect weight in his arms that was Arthur.

And now he was throwing him away.

Alfred could see how Matthew and Gilbert loved each other, even during the party, and at the time, Arthur wanted to do the right thing for Matthew. For them both. They were driven by love, and he knew that love beyond anything is unreasonable.

"Shut up!" Alfred shouted against the voice in his mind, pounding his fist against his table. "H-He doesn't love me! Not at all! It was all a lie!"

He did it all because he loved you, the voices in the head – different from the subconscious in his mind - said grimly. Look at the letters he sent, look at the boy who you fell in love with. He put up these walls because he was frightened, about the reality of wanting to be with you. He's let them all down with you. Why would he do it just so that he could hide your brother's secret?

Alfred's hands were shaking, and before he even realized it tears were falling down his face at the mere thought of Arthur. Arthur, with his soft, teasing smile, his beautiful green eyes, his hot and cold personality.

Alfred's other half.

"He can't be," he reasoned with himself hoarsely. "He couldn't possibly…if he did, he wouldn't hide this from me…"

Natalya's words. Arthur was the one who ruined his life, made everything turn upside down, with his sharp tongue and wit.

"I don't love him." he repeated, pacing up and down his suite. "I can't - he can't possibly be my soulmate."

He quickly realised that they were not just any voice - they were the Fates. The only entities in this entire world that could anoint the Queen's mark on his Chosen, the ones that had anointed the damned King mark on his chest on the first place. They had never directly appeared in his mind before, only briefly had he seen his mother and father interact with them through their extravagant shrine.

I don't…he can't possibly be a good fit. He doesn't even love me, he insisted towards them. There…it has to be another person.

The words were bitter and foreign in his mind, almost as if he didn't want to say them. That they belonged to another Alfred of another time, another place.

It felt like he was watching another Alfred go down a path he had promised to himself that he would never take part in.

We can't tell you what to do, came the response. Unlike Hearts, we do not determine your mind, or your heart, Prince Alfre

d. You may choose whoever you want, and we will anoint the Mark, but only if you truly want to choose them. We cannot truly accept the new Queen if you do not do so yourself.

A hurried knocking on the door interrupted Alfred's turbulent thoughts. Flinging it open, desperate for any sort of leverage, he came face to face with Emma, her expression distraught.

"Alfred!" she sobbed, wrapping her arms around his torso, bringing him close. "I swear, I was so worried! First that awful Trial, then you disappeared, and now…I don't even know what to do."

What about her? Alfred asked the Fate in his mind, but there was no response. They had simply vanished. It was up to him...wherever he was, to make his own decision.

"Emma," he echoed, and her gaze shot up to his, nervous.

"Is there something wrong, Alfie-" she began to ask, but he blurted it out before she could finish her sentence.

"Do you love me?" he said blue gaze meeting green. His heart seized wildly against the words – this wasn't what they were meant for. He wasn't supposed to settle for her nor Alfonso, but-

She didn't hesitate in that moment, biting her lip before bursting into confession, and some sort of calm, some sort of relief settled into his chest before he sighed.

Emma wasn't - but…she was pretty. She was lovely, they got along like a house on fire, they didn't fight nearly as much as…and she was so many things one could ask for in a Queen.

"Emma…can you do it? Be the next Queen?" he blurted, before he could hold himself back.

There was no going back in this moment.

As he turned, she shifted into Alfonso right as he turned around.

Alfonso's green eyes widened in place of hers, and he nodded happily, burying his face into his chest as he whispered the answer 'yes' again and again into Alfred's chest.

"I'll…I'll prepare the ring tomorrow," he said, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible through all the confusion.

"I'll make sure that everything's all right." Alfonso smiled, but his eyes still betrayed a perplexing emotion that flickered between elation and worry – mirroring Emma's - that Alfred was definitely guilty of.

"Al…are you all right?" he said, the nickname and voice changing. – what was going on? He was just Emma moments ago… "You don't seem too happy-or is it just me?"

"It's nothing, I'm still a little shaken over the Trials, that's all!" he said, fighting to keep his smile on his face. He seemed to accept this with a nod, and kissed him on the cheek before he skipped out of his bedroom door, closing it on his way out.

Alfred waited until the sound of his – or her? - footsteps had faded, then sunk onto the couch, his head in his hands.

What am I doing? Or rather…what is the me of this fate doing?

The next morning dawned harshly on Alfred's eyelids. He jolted awake, chest heaving and hands trembling as they clutched at the sheets almost too tightly.

It was a dream. It's a dream, Alfred, it's a dream, you didn't…

As promised, he had tried to go to sleep as soon as Yao had left the room. After what seemed like endless hours of staring at the ceiling and hearing the thrum of his heater go off in the night, sleep covered his senses, letting him rest much better than the chocolates that he had so recklessly consumed.

Were they the ones that had triggered such a nightmare?

When Yao had caught him last night, he was expecting disappointment. He had imagined fury, something that he knew Yao wouldn't be driven to, but these circumstances were so different. There weren't words enough to explain his overwhelming emotions, so just holding him in reply was enough for Alfred's senses…the security that it had granted him, even if it was just fleeting, was everything to him.

The motherly glow, something that Alfred hadn't needed ever since he had lost his mother to the Virus, resonated with him as he sat in the bathtub, watching the water swirl down the drain, along with his excitement for the day.

He had quickly decided that today had to be the day where he would start another Deciding without Arthur. Without Emma and Alfonso. Alfred knew, first from that dream, that he wouldn't do that to them. They both deserved to be someone else's first choice, not his second choices.

The mere thought of it sent knives to his heart, making his arm tremble as he took a late breakfast that day and watched Matthew limp downstairs from the opposite side of their bedroom, meaning that he had slept in the infirmary at Gilbert's side last night, keeping vigil. The absence of all three of the Elite was palpable as it was just him, Matthew and Yao eating breakfast in the massive room, and for what felt like the thousandth time Alfred longed for Arthur – untouchable, something that he could never have again.

Suddenly, the Spades emblem on his chest felt too much of a burden to bear. Alfred's hand trembled for a split second, and the spoon fell into his cornflakes.

The mask had finally shattered in his hands.

What if the Deciding was to choose a princess, a queen? Alfred had found someone much more than that. And now, after everything that they had together, he was going to leave. They would never see each other again.

Alfred knew that the other members of the Primary Suits were expecting a wedding when they came to Spades – not only because of that, but also a problem that he had helped create, and to stifle the advisors, the people that he could not handle himself. He felt humiliation, guilt and burden all in one heavy exhale of his lungs…

"I…I'm sorry," Alfred murmured into his breakfast, seeing out of the corner of his eye Matthew perk up at his direction with a hint of alarm, the most emotion he had seen from his brother in days, and Yao leaning forward into his seat, missing the tears falling into his milk and creating ripples, raindrops in his own storm. "Excuse me for a moment."

Arthur folded the letter into the slender envelope and paused for a moment at Alfred's door. He was surely at breakfast for now, and he looked at the opposite ends of the corridor for a frantic moment before slipping off Alfred's bomber jacket, savouring the scent of his cologne and apples before placing it on his doorstep with a sigh.

He felt like flowers were clogging up his lungs in that heartbeat as he listened to the sound of his own footsteps retreating from Alfred's bedroom door – he knew it was the last time, and if he could savour it, he would.

Arthur's bags were ready to go whenever. He would send another letter in two days to his family if things happened in the way that he…didn't want to imagine. After the Clubs and Diamonds Primary Suits made their way onto Spadian soil, so he would know that Alfred was at his strongest and reserve time for him to congratulate Emma or Alfonso for winning the Deciding. Find Leon again, and wish him luck, maybe set up some form of connection so they could keep in touch. He couldn't return or look at the palace without being reminded of his broken heart.

So much time had passed, anyway. Arthur didn't even have the opportunity to find him to say those three words back. He wanted to believe so badly that Alfred didn't want to hear them – but rather, he knew at the bottom of his heart, he knew Alfred loved him. By giving him a letter and being on standby, the ball was in Alfred's park…

Please, meet me at the gardens tonight with your answer.

Their fate together was resting on this one sentence that Arthur had written at the bottom of his letter – at the mere thought of it, his heartbeat sped up and he started to fiddle with the pearl that held his jacket closed. Was it unwise of him to bet on Alfred coming to visit him tonight? Would he have more important things to attend to? Would Arthur leave, never to come back, just because Alfred couldn't make a quick detour to his room?

I'm such a coward, Arthur screamed in his own head, words he wished could force him to run through the whole palace until he saw Alfred's handsome face again in front of his own, lips moving to say what should have been said between each other. I love you so much, but I can't find the time nor place where I know we'll just be ourselves. So I know that I'm doing the best thing for you.

Holding himself tighter, he made a beeline for his room, where Arthur knew that tonight, written words on a letter wouldn't be enough to tell Alfred how much he loved him.

As soon as Alfred had returned from a long overdue riding with Butterscotch and some quality time with his horse in the afternoon and taking a quick lunch, he picked up Hero from his luxurious resting perch in the…kitchen. Not quite sure what to do with the rest of his bitterly lonely day, he made his way to his room, where he noticed a loud commotion near his room made by a gaggle of maids.

"Fates, this is just so sad," one of them wailed, clutching a piece of paper that she dropped as soon as they spotted Alfred, the group gasping a chorus of apologies and 'Your Highness'.

"U-uh, hey, is something the issu-" he began, but the words died in his throat as he noticed his bomber jacket lying neatly folded on the floor. What was it doing here? Last time he remembered seeing it, it was-

Arthur. Arthur was wearing it and now it was on his floor, coupled by a letter simply titled his name that one of the maids handed to him before scurrying off.

Panic set in. Where was he?

"I'm sorry, miss…" he said, face paling, turning to the nearest maid who went pink almost instantaneously.

"J-Jamie, Your Highness," she said nervously, quickly bowing.

"Where did you find this?" he breathed.

"Outside your doorstep, but w-we, uh, didn't see anyone putting it here," she stammered, pacing from foot to foot. "The maids and I were making our rounds, you see, and we saw this letter and the garment outside of your doorstep but then we realized it was you approaching and-"

"Thank you, miss," Alfred said hurriedly, scooping both things into his arms. "I'm sorry, please give me some space for now."

"Of…of course, Your Highness!" she gasped and scurried away, but Alfred's mind numbed itself the moment he collapsed into the chair in his room and put on his jacket – the smell of clear mint and roses sent a jolt of desperation into his heart. Arthur's scent. H-He couldn't have…left the palace this way…

Clutching the papers, he scanned the text, wanting to savour Arthur's last words.

My dearest Alfred,

I find myself in a most extraordinary predicament-or rather, two very significant ones. The first is that…this letter should have come much sooner, not at a time when we are both broken, and that I am in love with you.

It may have taken me all these months to finally write it down somewhere and put in a place where you can read it and find out one of my most closely guarded secrets. But I must say it now, before I am snatched away and I can never say it to you like you said it to me.

I love you.

If you still doubt me, I could very easily conjure up a list of things I absolutely adore you for. That would be boring, though, and I know that you aren't one for words. Unfortunately…the only way that I can even begin to convey my complete devotion towards you without sounding like a foolish schoolgirl is by words, not actions. I fear that if I even try I will end up flushing and kissing you madly, which, however pleasant, isn't enough to convey my feelings.

So, I suppose, we shall reminiscence on what is one of the best chapters of my life, before we close it for no one else to see.

The first time I met you, I will admit that I was completely in the dark about your character and who you were. With what little I knew about royals, I was frankly terrified. I think that the daunt that came with meeting you and the Deciding overruled the initial attraction - the looks, the gazes that we are both so fond of - and so I was not able to convey those feelings and really allow myself to even think of having a undeniable crush on you.

When you offered me your hand in friendship, I was frankly happy with just that. You seemed like an amicable fellow, and with the luxurious cage that the holding facilities assigned to me for life; I saw the money, the benefits that came with being part of the process as a way to protect my family as they have protected me for my whole life.

So naturally, I took it, seeing it as a culmination of schooling, of teaching that I had been undertaking since I was ten. From that age, I was lucky enough to watch my family stop slowly starving to death and becoming the wonder they are today. I felt that I was finally serving my purpose.

Still, so much of that fear remained, and I think that the hole that I fell into was so much more frightening - and that hole was falling in love with you.

At first, it seemed almost crazy, almost hopeless that the golden boy of Cards – I apologise, I know you aren't particularly fond of that term but it was the only one at that time that seemed fitting - would notice me, would even take a second out of his precious time to talk with me. When I fell and kept on falling, there were branches at me to cling to, but so many of them broke away, crumbling into the fright that was falling in love with someone as amazing as you. I poured my whole soul into it as I know you did, and it was terrifying to watch me, to watch you break, when we did.

However, you were always there. We talked, and you listened. I hurt you, you hurt me, but we were always there to listen to each other, to learn more about each other. But this time, I fear that I have broken you too much, and it is something that you can never forgive me for, something that means that you can never look at me in the same light again.

And that paralyzes me with fear.

But you take my breath away, Alfred, and that is something I cannot and will not forget for the rest of my life.

For me, you are the sun and the blazing summer sky and the muted blue stars that illuminate what seems like an endless night. You are my world, and the flaws that come with it – something that I will always love because they are a part of the man that I fell for. You were the beginning to this new chapter, the elation, and the sweetness of a first love that you gave me I will keep within my heart for eternity.

Even as we constantly doubt ourselves and try to protect our own hearts – my walls and your masks - I was in fear that I had fallen in love with your mask at first, but I think that you subconsciously showed me your true side, even right from the start.

I love every side of you, even those that you feel are too embarrassing to possess that weaken your hero persona. The light in your eyes as you run over to the telescope of yours and tell me in the most excited voice I've ever heard in my entire life. The mess of words that come burbling out of your mouth in your infective excitement. I know others might expect their prince to be a perfect boy with manly interests, but you're absolutely lovable the way you are, and if someone can't accept you for who you are, they simply do not deserve you.

We once heard the comparison of the notion of love being to falling. One would fall so many times before someone caught us, but I don't know about that. Personally, well…you are my first love. And that's definitely not to say that I haven't seen my share of heartbreak - I have seen my sister return home, her heart broken yet again, reduced to tears when not even a threatened beating from Allistor to another boy would allow her to get over her latest crush, her latest heartbreak. But even so, I was terrified that that would be me, that I would be the person coming home crying, with my heart still firmly in your grasp.

And then, I shattered our love by my own hands. I cast us into the dark again, realizing that I had ruined the sacred trust that we had shared. In that moment, I saw the end. Fear of rejection happening was so prominent in our whole relationship, that even up to the moment before you told me that it would be me that you had chosen, I could hear those words that told me to go home, those words that declared your love for another. And they were now reality – until you told me, for the first time, that you loved me.

In that moment, I saw infinity again. But I could barely even begin to forgive myself. I was the same person who promised to be the person that you could trust above all, and I was destroying myself inside with guilt. And this is why I give you the choice, to forgive me or learn, or punish me for my treacherous mistakes. My heart has been in your hands for so long, and it will still be yours until the moment I leave you forever.

I realise now, with the possibility of my imminent departure from your side stronger than ever, that I want everything with you. The feeling of seeing a Kingdom flourish under our rule, the feeling of the throne upon my back, the feeling of being looked up to by so many people. But there is so much beyond ruling Spades, and it is the fact that I get to spend the rest of my life with you. I suppose that I would want a hot cup of tea in the morning, but I'll desire the warm feeling of you against my back, your warm mouth against my ear, your deep laughter against my lips, the reassurance that you are by my side – that alone is far more important than any drink or sweetmeat anyone could ever give me.

And there is something else that I've never thought of as a duty, but it is one of the most important of the queen's - that is producing heirs to the throne. Whoever you choose to be their mother – your children will have an irreplaceable father. Even as time goes on and you push your love for my back into the crevices of your heart, I will love your sons and daughters as if they were mine.

Duchess, this is by far the longest love letter I've ever written. I'm sorry, but it'll be the only time I'll ever get to tell you how much I love you. I'm not sure I'll gain courage to tell you every day of my life if I am so fortunate to spend it with you, but please, know that I always will, come what may.

And even by the greatest kindness of your heart, I am still in your life, I still worry, because what if time passes far too quickly for us, and I'm no longer young and attractive? Will I be too easy to dispose of then? What if I have our children and if I change, will you still love me? You make me shine, Alfred, far brighter than I would have ever imagined it possible for myself. What if I can't provide for you, what if I don't look like a queen anymore, what if the rest of the country no longer deems me fit to be their queen?

All these questions I didn't know the answers to until that night in the gardens when you came back from New England, the night where you held me and told me that I was what you've always wanted. I asked you to stop making me so smitten with you, but you're not helping at all. Maybe I'll just give up at this point, because…just.

The night you told me those three words, I should have chased after you, clambered off that bed and said them to you. I remember how much we worshiped the simple phrase, and I've said it countless times in this letter, but I know how much it would mean to you if you heard it from my own lips, by my own voice. I want to give you that much.

Even if you eventually forget me, if you move on from the boy you used to love, please know that I will love you. Always.

Please, meet me at the gardens tonight with your answer, if you can grant me the chance of seeing you one last time.

All my love,

Arthur

It felt like Alfred had forgotten to breathe, until he felt the velvety warmth of Hero's tongue licking on his cheek – his Jack Russell looked terrified, as if his owner had turned to stone.

But no, he felt the warmth of his hot tears sliding down his face just as prominently as he cradled his dog into his arms and let himself howl with pain, with heartbreak, with loss, feeling like the boy that he had left behind eight years ago in that fateful autumn, the change of leaves that had left him without a mother and a father.

He loves me, Alfred sobbed to himself as he felt Hero paw gently at him, nuzzling his dog and keeping him as close as he could without hurting him at all. He loves me, and I saw it too late for the two of us. Now I…I'm going to lose him.

Hero had started to paw on his chest a little more frantically now, and Alfred released him so he sat a little more comfortably on his lap, making sure his legs were a secure enough foundation before taking a moment to wipe off the tears that were on his face.

"I-It's okay, buddy," Alfred wept, smiling feebly at his faithful dog who whimpered in nervousness, his ears drooping a little lower than they usually did. "Your owner's just a little stupid, that's all. He's got a lot of fixing to do."

As he turned back to the letter, he leafed through the pages and pages of neat penmanship that spiralled into more and more loosely written letters – Arthur must have written this with the intent of pouring out his soul to him. He had to repay that honesty with his own.

"I love you," Alfred whispered brokenly, half to himself as he traced the letters again. He would have never expected Arthur to pour his heart out to him again – Arthur had thought himself to be the destroyer of their relationship, but in actuality it was him not being able to grow up, being too blind to see the truth.

He had promised Arthur that they would grow together. And he would damn well bank on that promise.

sometimes i wish alfred and arthur had magical ears so they could hear what the other has to say about each other when they're not within 20m of each other...

also me: dodges wedding questions like a certain los angeles baseball team

replies

CFAA - woo, i'm so relieved i got it out on time! you lucky duck :o

vivadragnire - i mean, after what's happened, it'll surely dilute the 'happy mood'...you can hit me now

russia says hello - ahh thanks! i don't know, in the selection and a few other fics, things seem to end just...a little too perfectly. since castle was also originally intended to have a coming-of-age aspect, i felt that learning from mistakes was also important. and francis and arthur will be coming soon, perhaps not in the way you think ;)

symphonylane - hey me too! it warms my heart and it makes them feel that little bit more realistic for me personally when i write the scenes. headcanon speaking, francis and yao would be the two old geezers sitting in the background, fancy glass in hand, moaning about the 'young uns' while subtly dissing each other.

hearthorse11 - aww thanks - you too!

mi chan kizanami - pfft, i always see lots of variants of the overprotective kirkland bros trope so i decided to run with it! lowkey i think we're all rooting for alfred andarthur.

reviews, favourites and follows are what will keep me writing, so please go ahead and leave them!