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Entry tags:
- 15 minute fic,
- fic,
- fma,
- gen
Fic - "A Man in Uniform" (Havoc-centric gen)
Title: A Man in Uniform
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
raja815
Character/Fandom: Havoc-centric, Fullmetal Alchemist
Rating: G
Word Count: 303
Warnings Spoilers for chapter 40 of the manga
Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist is © Hiromu Arakawa. I will make no capitol benefit from this.
Author's Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
15_minute_fic. Prompt is under the cut.
This week's prompt was: moth-eaten.
He was rifting through his closet in search of a sweater to replace the one he’d just spilled tea down when he found it. It hung on an old, polished wooden hanger at the very back of the lowered rod his clothes now hung from, worn and moth-eaten, and despite all that, it still smelled faintly of ash and gunpowder.
The dragon insignia was greening, the smart brass and pewter buttons tarnished, the gold weave of the aiguillette dingy and dull, the seams around the shoulders fraying, but it was there. He’d almost forgotten he’d kept it.
Placing it on his lap, he wheeled backwards, away from the closet. He pulled his tea-soaked sweater over his head, shivering first at the cold and then at the achingly familiar feel of the harsh wool fabric folding around his arms and chest.
He straightened the collar, folded the cuffs, closed the final button and wiped the smudge of greenish decay it left on his thumb off onto his pants. For a moment he paused, then took a deep breath and rolled across the room to the small mirror on the wall.
He took in his appearance for a long moment, the once-smart jacket now halfway rotted, the spindly, useless legs folded beneath him, and his own hollowed, tired eyes. Suddenly he smiled, forcing his mouth into the lopsided too-wide grin he’d once worn as often as the jacket. He saluted his reflection.
“Second Lieutenant Havoc, reporting for duty, Sir!”
His voice echoed, too loud for the silent empty room, and his heart thumped painfully beneath the tattered remnants of his former life, but he held the pose as long as he could, made himself remember, pretend for just a few sweet moments, until his eyes blurred and the blasphemous reflection swam away from his view.
Author:
raja815Character/Fandom: Havoc-centric, Fullmetal Alchemist
Rating: G
Word Count: 303
Warnings Spoilers for chapter 40 of the manga
Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist is © Hiromu Arakawa. I will make no capitol benefit from this.
Author's Notes: Written for
15_minute_fic. Prompt is under the cut. This week's prompt was: moth-eaten.
He was rifting through his closet in search of a sweater to replace the one he’d just spilled tea down when he found it. It hung on an old, polished wooden hanger at the very back of the lowered rod his clothes now hung from, worn and moth-eaten, and despite all that, it still smelled faintly of ash and gunpowder.
The dragon insignia was greening, the smart brass and pewter buttons tarnished, the gold weave of the aiguillette dingy and dull, the seams around the shoulders fraying, but it was there. He’d almost forgotten he’d kept it.
Placing it on his lap, he wheeled backwards, away from the closet. He pulled his tea-soaked sweater over his head, shivering first at the cold and then at the achingly familiar feel of the harsh wool fabric folding around his arms and chest.
He straightened the collar, folded the cuffs, closed the final button and wiped the smudge of greenish decay it left on his thumb off onto his pants. For a moment he paused, then took a deep breath and rolled across the room to the small mirror on the wall.
He took in his appearance for a long moment, the once-smart jacket now halfway rotted, the spindly, useless legs folded beneath him, and his own hollowed, tired eyes. Suddenly he smiled, forcing his mouth into the lopsided too-wide grin he’d once worn as often as the jacket. He saluted his reflection.
“Second Lieutenant Havoc, reporting for duty, Sir!”
His voice echoed, too loud for the silent empty room, and his heart thumped painfully beneath the tattered remnants of his former life, but he held the pose as long as he could, made himself remember, pretend for just a few sweet moments, until his eyes blurred and the blasphemous reflection swam away from his view.