[FrUK] What We Used to Be 2/?
A/N: I had a really nice thinking train going this morning, and I got a chance to jot it down! *throws confetti*
Heads up: I am involving my headcanons throughout the story, and I will explain some that appear in this piece at the end of the entry.
[ Part 1]
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What is life?
Ask a biologist and they may tell you that you need to have certain criteria you need to meet in order to qualify as being 'alive'. Ask a social justice activist and they may respond that it begins at conception, or that there needs to be certain traits for an organism to be considered a person.
Personhood...it's something that is essential to everyone. And why not? Everyone wants to be considered a person, to have rights respected and ideals recognized. The ideals of the old world had been left behind and the people had started a new life style One where they agreed would not cause pain, suffering, or war. Nothing negative. They were starting anew, a fresh start. But of course, with that, everyone had forgotten about nationality, their place of origin, where they come from. Now, they were the people of the moon. Nationhood was not important to them.
Nationhood was just an old idea that had been discarded along with the ones that did care: nations. They were not needed anymore. Why keep them? They were meant to die eventually, right? Their culture, their beauty, their persona and potential they had to offer. Nobody cared anymore. And the history and the mere thought of countries slowly faded away. They were not missed because they were replaced with something better. And when the people spoke, they could not interject.
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The ideals of nationality had changed so much over the years after the humans had moved to the moon, that nobody had a distinct nationality. They were just the People of the Moon. There wasn't anything special with that. They never stopped to think about it, which is why they didn't question it. But if they ever did, they would realize how bland it sounded. It was nothing like being called French or British, American, Canadian. There was no real flavor to those words. Everyone was everything. They didn't have a distinct accent, either. The accents had long ago died along with their respective countries. Everyone just spoke in the same sort of tone. There wasn't anything attractive about it. It was a monotone sort of accent. No French twist to make words sound romantic. No British influence to make everything sound fancy or posh. No German tinge to make things sound harsher. Somehow, everyone was alright with there just being something uniform. Their government was one unit. No Democracy or Socialism, or any sort of Capitalism vs. Communism ideals. Everything was different. It worked for everyone in which everyone was treated equally, everyone spoke the same way and sounded the same way. How the people were able to progress was beyond anybody else's guesses. Hell, they weren't even keeping track of history anymore, ever since they moved to the moon. Nobody cared about history. What did it matter if they came from Spain? So what? Everyone was from the moon now and had to forget about it. Eventually, history did fade away, a sad detail that nobody seemed to take notice of.
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Francis Bonnefoy stared down at the boy that had been annoying him for the past few minutes. He was rather small, a little bit of a runt, but he felt he could be so damn annoying it wasn't even funny anymore. He hated it that he was related to one of his best friends, but that didn't mean he would stand his shit.
"Arthur, you need to stop being such a whiny kid!" he said.
Arthur, on the other hand, lied on the floor with his eyes scrunched up and shut, covering his face with his hands to avoid the wrath of the older boy. "I'm not whiny, you twat!" he retorted.
"Francis, just leave him alone so he doesn't bother you anymore," one of Francis' friends, Antonio, said as he pulled on his arm to get him away.
Francis puffed out a breath of air. "Fine," he said. "But you better stop with your shenanigans, Kirkland," he hissed.
Gilbert, his other best friend, and Arthur's brother stood next to him as Francis stepped back. "Don't be so hard on him," he said to Francis. "Arthur's just a little awkward. Although, you do need to stop hitting him," he turned Arthur.
The blond boy pouted at their words as he sat up, his twin brother helping him stand.
Francis and Antonio walked away, waving at them as they left so Francis could cool down.
Gilbert glared at his brother. "Stop messing with my friends," he crossed his arms.
"I wouldn't mess with them if they weren't such jerks," Arthur shot back.
In all honesty, now that Francis thought back to it, those childish spats seemed so pointless. He and Arthur would fight about things all the time, yet he was best friends with Gilbert. He didn't understand why that happened, but it did. He and Arthur, to that day, did not get along as well as he would have liked to, though. There was always this sort of tension between them. He found it funny, though. They had such horrible tensions to the point where one day they couldn't stand it and they began to punch and kick each other. That didn't end so well. One time was very vivid to him, however, because through their fight, they ended up kissing against the wall, both surprised at the occurrence but not complaining about it. They simply kept kissing each other. It confused Francis so much at times. He chuckled from how bittersweet it felt. He admitted that he was a little attracted to Arthur, despite all the heated arguments. But that had been years ago; even in their teenage years, they had argued like that, which had caused the great heat to get them to make out. But he hadn't seen Arthur for a number of years. He chuckled because he didn't think he would ever see him again. He had that feeling, even if he didn't want to believe it could be true to lose someone forever, even if that someone made him want to pop a nerve and punch them every five minutes.
[Continue to Part 3]
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A/N: For clarifications, the bit in italics is Francis remembering something in the past, in his new life time.
Most (If not, all) of my headcanons are influenced and shared by my friend, Tulip. So, one of our headcanons is that England and Prussia are twins. Another one is that throughout their life times, England and France had always been attracted to one another, even if they didn't want to admit it. And another is that France, Spain, and Prussia have always been best friends since birth or some shit.
So I'll be back later to update!
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