Benevolent.

Abhorrent

Key:

Y/N - Your Name

Warning - disorders. Please do not read if that triggers you. You're not alone, you're beautiful and I love you!

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"You ever think we'll be free from here?"

"Que dis-tu?"

"I mean, you think we'll be free? Roaming our lands, celebrating with families, writing our own history books?"

"Je suis désolé, je ne comprends pas ce que vous dites."

"You're not getting what I'm saying!" 13 colonies sprung to his feet, spreading his arms wide as much a small child can stretch. "We could be roaming our lands without someone watching us! We can all play together without the fear of punishment!"

"Fam—Families?" New France questioned, still laying on the yellow grass to fiddle with the sharp blades. 

"They say they're our families, but they aren't! Father isn't our father! At least... he doesn't act like it..." The other mumbled the last part, anxiously glancing around for any peering ears. "It's just like how they claim you're my brother but you're not! You can't even understand a word I'm saying!"

"Je comprends les familles. Et qu'en est-il de notre famille? Quel point essayez-vous de faire valoir?"

13 paused. He looked at New France confused, scratching his head underneath his hat. "Er— What are you saying? I don't speak French."

New France sighed, rolling his eyes and resting his head in the grass.

"13 Colonies! New France! If you are rolling in the grass like a herd of mindless swine there will only be slop for dinner for you!" A distant voice yelled out to them.

"You hear that? He thinks of us as a bunch of dumb animals. None of the food they feed us is good. It always makes me sick. Some nights I stay up all night in fear I'll wake up ill." 13 admitted, helping the elder up from the grass with his broken leg. Helping New France lean on him, he started to help him stumble to the manor.

"You know, New France, when I'm older, I'm going to have good food. I'm going to eat everyday like I'm a king. Well, bad choice of words. I'm going to eat whatever I want to eat! Not the shit they give us!"

America scarfed down the pancakes, pushing away Canada from the syrup bottle they were both reaching for.

"Slow ass! Try to be quicker next time, loser!"

"Oh, come on America! Don't be a jerk!"

Kaz wobbled up from behind them, carefully snatching the bottle and handing it to Canada who gleefully drenched his food. "America, that is no way to treat your brother. Right, brother?!"

"Get shot in the other leg, Kaz."

"He is not a morning person, as you can see." He chuckled nervously, eyes darting between a unamused America and a panicked Sarah. "But he is sweet once he wakes up!"

"Keep yelling and I'll pluck your feathers out one by one! Fuck!" Russias voiced shouted from the room, with his fathers lecturing voice followed after once he slapped him upside the head.

"Kaz, you know I love you man—no homo—but you can't be talking to me about brother goals when that hunk of shit is literally your brother."

"How about we leave the petty insults to ourselves and appreciate when others are trying to help, hm?" You hummed, dancing around Sarah to grab your own plate of pancakes. "Kaz is only trying to help, be nice."