Yo! It's me again. And guess what? I HAVE FRUK. I got this idea a while ago, and I just couldn't resist it. In here, Francis has multiple personalities, them being Jean-Pierre (2p!France), Marianne (Nyo!France...kinda) and Capitaine (Pirate!France). I almost added Neko!France and Mochi!France, but I managed to control myself...for now atleast. And like in my other fics, Emilie is Monaco. The first chapter is just introducing people, plus slight sibling fluff in the end.

Warning: Contains crazy Francis, crossdressing Francis, language, mental disorders, possible molesting and violence in the later chapters. Yup, basic essence of FrUK.

Thump.

Those new neighbours behind the flat wall were driving Arthur Kirkland off the cliff. Every goddamn day, there were noises, so irritating the Brit would NEVER get used to them, thuds, yelling, loud steps, everything.

Thump.

He ran his hand trough his blonde hair, making it even messier. He had been doing that a lot lately, and it was a wonder he had not gone bald already.

Thump.

At first he had ignored them, patiently waiting for them to stop. After a week, when they still were audible, for some extent even more frequent, Arthur started to wonder what was going on. Two weeks later, he had become seriously irritated by the noises. And finally, two weeks and 3 days later, he had had enough of them.

Thump.

He didn't know anything about the neighbours except for there were two people living in the aparment next door, a man and a woman. He never had had a conversation with neither, actually he had only seen the woman briefly, the man was a complete mystery to him. Arthur didn't care too much about them tough; he wasn't a people person at all.

Thump.

He clenched his fists and stood up from his seat, making the blue office chair fall over. He walked out of his office-library, steps angry and fast. It was a wonder smoke didn't rise from his ears. Arthur got out of his small flat and hurried on the door of the apartment next to his, knocking on the door calmly. He was furious, yes, but he had to remember the manners. He concidered himself as a gentleman after all.

Arthur heard a female voice, saying something in French. Oh great, not only they are loud but frogs too? The Brit was not fond of France or anything related to it. Why, nobody knows. Arthyr Kirkland is a stubborn man. Quiet footsteps followed the voice, nearing the door and finally someone opened the lock, making it click.

The door was opened by the woman. She was rather short, blonde and serious-looking young lady, her hair loosely braided on the side of her head (and far too many hair pins on it) and glasses laying on the bridge of her nose, a simple but elegant red shirt and blue skirt. Her expression was friendly, but Arthur recognized it to be fake, hiding her suprisement and stress.

"Ah, good day. How may I help you?" she asked, smiling politely.

"Good day to you too. My name is Arthur Kirkland, and I live next to you. I've heard a lot of noise from your flat, and it disturbs me quite a lo..." Arthur started, but was cut off by an absurd scene. Inside the apartment, there was the man, blonde like the woman, laying on the couch. He was wearing a purple woman's night gown, those sexy ones too with lace on them (barely covering the 'vital regions'), and had his hair on a bun, a small crown on top of his head. And to make matters even stranger, he was smiling seductively (and wearing hot red lipstick), looking at the Brit. Arthur fell speechless as he stared the hairy man in drag. The woman turned around to see what was going on, and started yelling at the man.

"Marianne! Je vous ai dit de rester dans la chambre!"

"Mais Emilie..."

"Chut! Va-t'en, maintenant!"

The woman dragged the drag (hah, puns) into another room, slamming the door shut. French insults were heard from behind the door. The woman sighed, said something to the man and walked back to the door to the baffled, red-faced Briton.

"I can explain that."

"I don't know if I want to know", Arthur muttered. The woman laughed.

"My name is Emilie, and he's my big brother Francis. Usually."

"Usually?"

"As I said, I can explain. Come in, I will tell you the story", Emilie said, motioning Arthur to enter. He gave her a questioning look.

"Don't worry, he will be there for a while", she smiled. Arthur gave up and stepped in the apartment. It was rather stylishly decorated, the colour scheme altering between blue, black, red and white. The furniture were a mixture of avant garde and minimalistic, creating a suprisingly elegant enviroment.

"Come to the kitchen, I'll put up something. Would you like to have a cup of coffee? Or maybe tea?"

"Tea would be nice, thank you."

"Of course. Sit down, I'll fix the tea."

Arthur sat down and followed Emilie with his gaze, every once in a while checking the door, just in case. Emilie began to explain the situation she was in with her brother.

"So the thing is, Francis is not...always quite there. Yes, that's a good way to describe it. He has multiple personalities."

Arthur raised his eyebrows for the suprise. This he had not expected.

"E-excuse me?"

"Multiple personalities. Yes, he's crazy, if you like to put it that way. I'm taking care of him since our parents are not alive anymore and he isn't capable to do so. It's...interesting. And sometimes, he or one of his personas does something that propably causes the noise you hear. I'm sorry about that", she said and placed a tea cup infront of Arthur, sitting opposite to him with her own. Arthur was slightly embaressed of himself, he had no idea things could be like this.

"I see. I have to apologise aswell, I didn't know about...this" he sipped the tea.

"This tea is excellent."

"Thank you. And no need to apologise, no one knows until they are told. Better now than never."

"I guess so. I have to say, I am curious. What kind of personalities does he have? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to..."

"Oh does it matter whether I tell or not, they will propably appear sooner or later and may even cause some...incidents in your life too. The least I can do is to enlighten you so you will not be suprised when stuff like that happens. Atleast Marianne will cause you some action, now that she saw you."

"Marianne?"

"She is the persona who is the controlling one at the moment. A diva, you might say. Flirty. Man-eater. Or that's what she believes, not too many men are brave enough to tag along with her."

"Obviously, it's a bloody bloke in a dress."

Emilie chuckled. Arthur took another sip of his tea as she continued.

"Marianne is actually quite close to Francis's real personality, minus the gender and the snobbiness."

"So does he dress up in lingerie even as his normal self?" Arthur joked. Emilie grinned.

"Suprisingly he does not. He would like to do it though, but Marianne doesn't want anyone to touch her stuff."

"But they are basically the same person?"

"Not what she thinks."

"Sounds like you have quite a mess in your hands."

"You could put it that way, I guess."

"Does he have other personalities aswell?"

"Yes, two. Both are men, and a handful. The other one is this grumpy guy who calls himself Jean-Pierre. He is pretty much the opposite of Francis, someone who hates people and social contact. He doesn't say much either; most of his communication is grunts and looks."

Emilie sipped her tea, and Arthur couldn't help but notice her lady-likeness. She even stuck out her pinky. It amused the Brit greatly, though he hid it.

"Sounds like a charmer."

"Oh he is okay, unless he is really mad. Then he is by far the worst. Then there is Capitaine."

"Captain?"

"Well no, Capitaine. He is very keen to be called Capitaine, and Captain will not do. He is a french pirate from the 17th century, and he is just...well, I'm glad he hasn't been around for two months. Propably will appear soon again though. Oh yes, I have to warn you, Capitaine hates England and the English. If you two ever happen to meet...be careful."

"Or else?"

"He might make you walk the plank."

"Somehow I have difficulties to see how that could happen in a city", Arthur looked at Emilie slightly confused. Emilie sipped her tea calmly.

"Trust me, Capitain has his ways. He is actually the reason we had to move from our last place, when he made the landlord walk the plank...from our balcony."

Arthur almost choked on his tea, coughing a little.

"Come again?"

"You heard me. It may sound silly, but it's as true as it can get."

"You are in a pretty rough situation. A brave woman you are."

"Oh please, you're embrassing me. I'm just doing my duties as his sister."

"Someone else might've put him to the looney bin already", Arthur pointed out.

"Hmm, might be."

They continued their conversation, getting to know each other. Arthur actually found himself to be enjoying Emilie's company. She was a true lady, despite her being French they got along perfectly. Emilie was pleased to find someone to talk to, when she took care of Francis she didn't have much time to socialize and it didn't help to do her job at home either.

"Speaking of which, what do you do for a living?" Arthur asked her. Tea had long ago gone, but he was too into the conversation to care.

"I am a poet. I have published a few collections, but I am not that famous at all. They know me better in France."

"Really? That's impressive. I myself am an author. Also, not that famous at all", he told, lighting up a smile on her face.

"Wait, you're that Arthur Kirkland? The one who wrote 'Behind the curtain'?"

"You know that book?"

"Yes, I read it a few years ago! It was amazing. I have to say, I never thought I'd be able to talk with the author! Not to mention live next to him", Emilie said enthusiasticly. Arthur chuckled, a faint blush rising on his cheeks.

"Well, things you couldn't even imagine do have a habit of coming true. For example, me finding a neighbour who isn't bloody annoying."

"Wait for it, Francis will wipe off that thought of yours when he gets here", she laughed, glancing over to see the door.

"He propably will be back to his usual self soon, Marianne has been around for two or three days already. Usually Francis gains control after a while."


Emilie was talking to someone. And that someone happened to be a male person. Marianne couldn't hear what they were saying, but she knew they were enjoying themselves. A wawe of jealousy struck her. Did Emilie really think she could snatch that man right infront of her? She was seriously wrong if she tought so. Marianne after all, was a charmer among charmers, even if her body was...not hers. His. That Francis guy's body. Which she happened to live in. A female in a male body.

Marianne sighed dramatically, tossing her hair of her face. She slumped on the bed among high heels she had been digging through earlier in the day. She wanted to go out party, find someone interesting, but none of her heels seemed to fit her mood. Marianne had tossed them out of the closet, and some of the shoes had hit the wall. She didn't care, she was having a goddamn crisis.

Laughter. Emilie was laughing with that man. How annoying. Marianne felt her blood boiling. She would've gotten out of the room if Emilie hadn't threatened to burn all of her clothes. Those dear darling clothes she had colleted among years, struggling to find the money for them (well, she had bought them with Francis's money, but who cares?). If only Emilie had not done that, she would be flirting with the man right now...

Suddenly she felt another precense. Of course, she always did feel three other precenses, but this one was now taking over, pulling her back. Which one of those bastards dared? Now she would lose her chance to meet the man, what if he was the love of her life? She frowned, grasping to the sheets of the bed as if it would help.

Francis.

That bastard was coming back.

"Casse-toi", she muttered, hearing a voice inside her head ansrewing.

Putain.

"Merde...je toi deteste", she hissed as Francis finally pushed her aside, telling her that he hated her too.


Francis looked around him. Marianne had certainly made a mess. What was she thinking? She never put things on their places after using them, and now there were high heels all over the place. Francis groaned. It would be a nightmare to put all of those shoes back to their place. Then he noticed he was wearing a purple night gown.

"Mon dieu...Marianne, casse-toi."

He didn't mind wearing it, but Marianne did. She would take a revenge on Francis if she found out he was wearing one of her clothes. Not that he had intended to, in the end it was her fault. He glanced himself from the mirror, and was not least bit surprised to see he was wearing makeup. And of course, Marianne's crown.

He stood up and stripped himself from the woman's clothes, tossing the small crown on the night stand. He walked to his dresser, searching for his own clothes. Apparently Marianne had planned to stay for a while, since all of her rags were on the top. He had to dig deep before he could find his own clothes, pulling out black trousers and a blue shirt.

He heard laughter from the kitchen, his sister and some man who he didn't recognize. He was stunned. Had Emilie actually found company? And did he know what was going on? They were speaking English, that he noticed. He couldn't tell what they were saying though.

Curious, he quickly dressed up and wiped his face to get rid of the makeup. It helped a little, though the lipstick seemed to stick. He couldn't wrap his head around why Marianne insisted to use make up even if she wasn't going anywhere. Francis opened the hairbun, letting his hair flow free. He pulled a deep breath, and opened the door gently, slipping out of the room.

Two heads turned to see him, Emilie and her guest as he entered the kitchen. First thing Francis noticed about the man was that he had enormous black eyebrows, seeming unnatural in contrast to the blonde hair.

"Ah! Francis, you're back", Emilie smiled, speaking English due to the guest.

"Arthur, this is Francis, Francis, Arthur. He lives next door."

"Pleasure to meet you", Arthur said politely, offering his hand. Francis grabbed it for a handshake, meeting the green eyes of the other man.

"Likewise", he ansrewed, glancing Emilie questioningly.

"He already saw Marianne. I explained him your situtation."

"Oh."

Silence fell to the room. Francis was okay with Emilie telling about his personalities, it was smart to do so, but it was always kind of awkward. Arthur seemed to agree, judging by his slight blush. Luckily Francis was a master of breaking the ice.

"So, what did Marianne do? I found myself wearing a night gown, so it can't be anything too good."

Arthur's cheeks took a deeper shade and Emilie snickered.

"Arthur came to complain about the noises he heard from our apartment, and when I opened the door Marianne was laying on the couch, flirting with him."

"Really? Mon dieu..." Francis couldn't help but laugh a little. He had always given so good first impressions.

"I have to say, I didn't quite expect that", Arthur said, very-so Britishly. His accent was amazing, thick like his eyebrows. The man practically screamed his English-ness; his whole presence, the way he held himself, his clothes, his scent, all very stereotypical.

"You were in luck though. It could've been Capitaine. He gives interesting first impressions", Francis chuckled. Emilie asked him if the pirate was still around, for not showing himself for a while. The Frenchman assured her Capitaine had not left, he could still feel his presence.

"May I ask, how do you 'feel the presence'?" Arthur suddenly spoke out. Francis shrugged.

"I don't know how to explain it...it's kind of you being locked in a closet, closet being your body. In the closet, you have other people in it too. You can't see them, it's too dark for that, but you know they are there. You understand?"

"Yes, I think so", the Brit ansrewed, glancing his wrist watch.

"Oh bloody hell, I am going to be late soon! My brothers' have their birthday dinner today, I should get going", he huffed and stood up.

"Of course. I'm sorry for keeping you here for so long", Emilie got up to lead Arthur to the door.

"Don't be, I was quite enjoying myself. Hope we can chat again soon."

They exchanged a few words at the door and then the door was shut. Emilie returned to the kitchen, sitting next to Francis.

"It's nice that you found someone to talk with", Francis smiled.

"Arthur is great. We had a fantastic conversation."

"Hmm. It's sad that you don't have too much time to socialize because of me."

"It's not your fault. I can cope with this. I'll rather be a lonely lady with her brother close to her than get you locked in some hospital so I could make some floppy relationships."

"You're too good for me", Francis murmured and wrapped his arm around his little sister. She laughed and got up, walking to the fridge.

"I know. Are you hungry?"