Tiny Miniskirts
A Series of Fullmetal Alchemist Short Stories
Author: Kurama-Sweethart (Moe)
Rating: Changed to teen: For Ed's mouth and sexual references
Pairings: Various – My favorites being featured most often. :3 Yeah, I'm biased. Sue me.

Birthday
Words: 153

There was a sort of irony, Ed decided, although he couldn't quite put his finger on it now. But it didn't shake the feeling any, as he looked down at the sleeping cat he held in his arms. It yawned and mewed softly; wide, yellow eyes staring up unblinkingly into his own. Perhaps the irony was in those eyes, the same dull bronze as it's soon to be owner, coat the same sleek, tawny brown. It was amiable and quiet, the cat, which made the whole situation all the more amusing to the Fullmetal.

Al walked into the kitchen, digging around in the cupboards for some random knick-knack or another: completely ignoring his elder brother sitting at the table. The cat mewed again, bringing his attention to the kitten now being plopped into his arms.

"Brother, what-" He stuttered as it purred, rubbing under his chin.

Ed smiled, petting it. "Happy birthday, Al."

Best Intentions
Words: 139

The best feeling in the whole world was the feeling of cold metal in her hands, heavy and deadly, like a viper waiting to strike, biding it's time before lashing out in a fatal bite of flesh and bullets. Her life was in her pistol, the one her father had given to her as a teen. She had come home proudly, announcing that she was to join the military instead of going to the local university, to fight in the Eastern Rebellion. That was the day she became a woman, he had said, as he carefully let the weapon fall into her hands. She wasn't his little girl anymore.

She was a killer. The war hadn't changed that, no- only fed the fire. Taking lives was an addiction, and their only solace was that Lieutenant Hawkeye was on their side.

Inhuman
Words: 182

She wasn't sure her existence ever had a true beginning. She had been conceived over a period of three months, growing, dying, reforming and repeating the cycle until she became what she was now. By then Ishval had been completely destroyed, the war in the military's favor. It was dark, when she awoke, and her skin burned like the fiery pits of hell itself. And yet, she felt no pain. The jagged rocks half embedded in her flesh felt like nothing at all. As the newly formed homunculus crawled from the rubble, mind blank and unknowing of her past as an Ishvalan woman, two words instantly came to her.

Not human.

That's what she needed to be. Had to be. Some instinctual drive knew the truth of her existence, she could feel it. She wasn't human and that's all she wanted, needed, so she could be with someone who had once been very important to her. It frustrated her, sometimes, when she couldn't remember exactly why she desired mortality, but it was strong enough to drive her, nonetheless.

Thus, Lust was born.

To be continued. 6 more to go till my first goal of 30. :3 Woot.