americas the beautiful

3

Alfred F. Jones    //    United States Marine Corps

Rusame fanfic - Monster like Me (part 4)

This fanfic is heavily inspired by Beauty and the Beast. I promise when I’m feeling well enough today to sit up (yes, I’ve written the entirety of this fanfic on a whim while sick with a sinus infection so far) I’ll draw how all the characters look here. I especially can’t wait to draw Beast!Russia ^^
I don’t own Hetalia, Beauty and the Beast or anything else I make references to.

Matthew knocked on the 8th door that day. He had been out all day looking for people to help him rescue his brother from that…thing that attacked both of them earlier, and so far the only person who was willing to help was this narcissistic tavern owner who just thought that going on a quest would make him more popular with the women in the village.
A woman with short blonde hair, tired eyes and a notably large chest answered the door. She had clearly been about to go to bed, because she was wearing a white nightgown and was holding a candle.
“Sorry to b-bother you, ma'am…but I- I just wanted to know if you could join my search party?” Matthew asked. “Or that you know anyone who can? My brother went in- into this house in the mountains… And this…this… A monster attacked him and- and I don’t know if he’s okay…”
“Are you married?” interrupted the tavern owner, a bright-eyed albino with a German accent and a tendency to not focus on the subject unless it related to him or pretty girls.
“Gilbert…!” Matthew said, half chastising him, half worried he was going to make everyone in the village lose support for their cause.
The lady in the door looked shocked. “You don’t mean… THAT house, do you?” she asked.
“It- it was kind of falling apart and it was mostly kind of dark in color, with a big wrought iron fence…” Matthew said. “The inside looked dirty and sad.”
The woman almost dropped her candle. “Oh God,” she quietly whispered. “No, no, no, no…” She ran back into the house, leaving the door open. She came back, a sleepy, younger female behind her. The woman with her had long, blonde hair and a slender figure.
“Natalia, listen,” the older woman urgently cried. “They said that you-know-who captured someone!”
“You know who…?” the younger woman asked, rubbing her eyes. “Do you mean our brother that I never got to meet because of-”
The rest of her sentence was cut off by the other woman covering her mouth with her hand, clearly embarrassed.
“There’s a reason I said ‘you-know-who’ instead of his name…” she murmured, turning back to the visitors on the doorstep. “We’ll help any way we can! Go quickly, find more people! We’ll both get dressed and join you shortly!”
Matthew and Gilbert both walked away, the former happy because he found more people who would help; the latter disappointed because he didn’t get to find out if the woman at the door was married.
In the house they had just left, a chaotic scene began to unfold. Now that Natalia, the younger woman was awake, she frantically apologized to her sister for having mentioned their brother.
“I’m sorry, Katyusha! Katyusha, listen! I forgot for a moment we disowned him!” she cried.
The other woman was only half paying attention. She threw a dress at her younger sister.
“Put this on,” she said, getting a dress out of the trunk for herself. “Who knows what Ivan could be doing this very moment??”

—*****—

The dining area was empty, save for Ivan, Alfred and a wary Raivis, who stood against the wall, holding an empty silver tray, waiting to be called into the kitchen.
Ivan sat at the end of the table, in the ornate chair that he always sat in, and Alfred in the chair ahead and to his right. He had insisted he sit closer to Ivan so he could better determine what kind of motives exactly Ivan had, and whether or not he had changed his mind about Alfred.
Presently, he cautiously watched Ivan as he fiddled with the ends of his scarf, somehow not getting his claws caught in it.
“Tell me,” Alfred finally began. Ivan looked up with a startled grunt. “What… What kind of… Are you a… What species are you? You kind of look like a werewolf but you look like that even when it’s not a full moon, plus you have horns and no tail.”
Ivan was caught off guard by that question. He barely knew the answer himself! Nobody had been around to tell him, save for all the servants that came into and exited his life. And they all acted exactly the same- terrified of him and associating with him only at a bare minimum.
He rested his head in his paws. “I actually don’t know,” he murmured.
“Oh,” Alfred finally commented after a pause. “Have you tried studying it? Looking at identification guides?” He was intrigued by the fact that Ivan didn’t know what he was. No matter how hard Alfred tried he couldn’t fathom the concept of not knowing that he was human.
“Yes,” Ivan said, groaning a little. “Whenever I think I have it I realize one of my characteristics doesn’t fit!”
“I’ll make up a species for you then!”
Ivan turned to curiously eye the human.
“What you are hasn’t been discovered yet,” Alfred explained, picking up a cloth napkin and and taking a fountain pen he found off of the table. “I discovered it, so I can name you! … Hmm… How about… You kind of look like a…” Alfred’s mind was blank. If only Matthew were here. He could have come up with a good name for sure.
“I’ll think about it later,” he finally said. “It looks like our food’s here!”
Raivis exited the kitchen, carrying the first course of their meal- some kind of soup with herbs in it. He set both bowls on the table and ran back into the kitchen, astonished at what he discovered.
“He was acting like a normal person! Having a conversation and everything!!” Raivis blurted out.
“That can’t be,” Eduard said, leaning against the wall. “Not if he wasn’t yelling.”
“But- but he wasn’t yelling!” Raivis realized how unbelievable it sounded. “I think having Alfred here is starting to change him somehow.”
Back in the dining area, Alfred slowly sipped his soup from his spoon, watching the unconventional way Ivan ate. He lifted the entire bowl up to his face and lapped up the soup, loudly and not at all neatly.
For a second Ivan’s gaze fell upon Alfred, and the half-disgusted, half-confused look he was giving him.
He awkwardly set the bowl down, somewhat embarrassed. It was weird to him- he always ate like that, and didn’t feel a need to change anything- until now. He stared forlornly at the rest of the soup, trying to figure out how to eat it more neatly.
Alfred picked up on the awkwardness radiating out from Ivan, and looked at him again with pity. “You don’t know how to use a spoon?”
Ivan sank down into his chair.
Alfred laughed and put his whole face into the soup bowl, trying to eat messier than Ivan had. Soup dripping from his glasses, he looked up, snickering, and declared, “I can eat messier than you can!”
From there it became a contest of who had the worse table manners, culminating in Ivan finishing his soup by licking it off of his hands and Alfred doing the same by pouring the contents of the bowl into his mouth.
At about the same time, Raivis returned with the next course, a roast turkey that he placed between them. He was even more shocked to see Alfred covered in soup as well as Ivan. He determined it wasn’t so much Alfred being a good influence as it was Ivan being a bad influence.
Alfred waited to see how Ivan would go about eating the turkey, in the hopes he could one-up him, but instead both of them sat there, not eating.
Ivan just felt like he couldn’t ask Alfred what he wanted to. He wanted to ask Alfred to show him how to eat in a neat, dignified manner, the way he had at the beginning of dinner, but instead remained silent.
Alfred didn’t like waiting, and so went about eating some of the turkey- normally, with a knife and fork.
Ivan intently watched him, then took a drumstick off the turkey.
He grasped the silverware, staring down the turkey leg on his plate.
“That’s not how you eat those,” Alfred said, interrupting his thoughts. “You just use your hands with those. That should come pretty naturally to you.”
With a slightly disappointed expression, Ivan put the drumstick back.
Alfred then picked up on what Ivan was trying to accomplish.
He carved off the rest of the white meat from the turkey and put it on Ivan’s plate. “Here, all you have to do is…” He held Ivan’s hands and showed him how to cut up the turkey meat, and even adjusted the way he was supposed to be holding the silverware- allowing for claws, of course.
Eduard, who happened to be on his way to the restroom, witnessed this spectacle. He burst back into the kitchen.
“Come look at this! Raivis was right!” he called out.
All the servants ran into the dining area. The sight of Ivan using silverware and chewing quietly was almost enough to make Toris dizzy with surprise.
Raivis changed his mind- Alfred really was being a good influence!

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