Who and what we identify as is crucial to our outlook on life. It colors our lenses of the world an affects our actions and decisions immeasurably. As personal as the most honest answer to this question can be, it is often formed because of others.

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I didn’t always understand the pride in Teacher’s voice when she would introduce herself simply as a housewife. Her refusal to take on the title of a State Alchemist used to only confuse me, as she more than deserved the grandeur of the position.

Teacher, why don’t you want to be a State Alchemist? Wouldn’t it be really cool?

I myself childishly fantasized about flaunting that kind of rank, a desire which was born from the same pride that led me to commit the taboo. I arrogantly assumed that I deserved prestige because of my talent alone.

I want to be one someday. I bet I could pass the test!

I achieved that goal eventually, and gained widespread fame and several titles. The Fullmetal Alchemist, Hero of the People, Major Elric. The State’s teenage alchemic prodigy, supposed proof of the military’s benevolence, and formidable human weapon. All conveniently at the end of a dog’s leash in the shape of a silver pocket watch chain.

Is that really what you want out of life, Ed? That’s what means the most to you?

But by that time, my priorities had drastically changed. I had a very different idea of the way of the world. I was- I am painfully aware that all the renown in the world cannot make up for everything I’ve lost. Now it seems that the nicknames I get from Mustang’s team, “Boss” and “Chief” and… and- yes, even “short stuff”, mean more than my high-ranking military position.

No…I guess not.

There is, however, one title that I know is more important than any other I carry. It’s one that implies the greatest responsibilities, as well as making all my struggles worth the effort. I strive endlessly to pattern myself after this name, because Teacher, and Lieutenant Colonel Hughes, too, was right about the things that really matter. It is the title I deserve the least, and yet love the most. I am proudest to be…

Can you help me with this, Big Brother?

Drabble submission for @fmabriggsweek. Prompt for Day 2: Buccaneer // Origins. Headcanons all over the place. To clarify: Matvei is Buccaneer’s given name. Armin is a retired soldier he looked up to while growing up.

Day 1 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5

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“…and now Dad’s mad that Mom’s trying to teach me, but I told them I don’t want to speak Drachman or Xingese! They never listen!”

Armin nodded at his young neighbor. “Probably difficult to do when they’re yelling at each other.”

Matvei scowled. “I don’t want to talk about them anymore. Tell me about Fort Briggs.”

“Again? I was posted other places, you know… Well, it took nearly twenty years to build. Constant skirmishes with Drachma held construction back tremendously. But, really, that’s why the fort’s the most impenetrable stronghold our country now.”

“Strength born from conflict. I like that.”

Everyone sees, everyone talks, everyone thinks, and nobody knows. RoyxRiza

Originally the ficlet Rutina by the FFnet author Bratty. The translation from Spanish is mine, but not the original story.

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Some call it routine.

It’s the way in which she always arrives half an hour earlier than the others. The building almost empty, her personal kingdom for thirty minutes.

Order is created with efficiency.

The coffee pot always full. Cups clean and at hand. Sugar and cream likewise arranged. And napkins near Breda’s desk, for the usual early morning spills.

A folder with the day’s tasks always prepared on the corner of each desk.

And her, at eight sharp, ready to take the Colonel’s coat.

Others call it loyalty.

It’s rare to see them apart.

The image seems incomplete, the few times that it happens. The way in which they both are forged as one unit makes sure that, when the Colonel enters a room, two chairs are always prepared. Always together. Never separate. Even if she never takes a seat.

When walking, she prefers to remain two steps behind her Colonel. Here, she has the widest view possible.

Nobody ever wonders why.

Some call it respect.

Never do they call each other by their names.

It’s a harsh formality that surrounds them. Him walking at a firm, quick pace; her always two steps behind. Words are rapid and direct, rarely given face to face.

All the time, Colonel and Lieutenant.

A firm barrier. Stony and fixed. Nothing more.

Nobody actually manages to guess correctly.

(A private language.)

“Leave those files alone, already.”

“Sir?”

“Go home. I don’t have use for a Lieutenant who’s going to fall asleep on the job.”

“Understood, sir.”

“You look terrible. I’d best accompany you.”

“I’m grateful, sir.”

“Hurry up and find your dog, Lieutenant. The path is long.”

“Right away… sir?”

“Yes?”

“Your hat.”

“Thank you.”

(A secret for two.)

“You’re tired.”

“I am.”

“I’ll take you home.”

“I’d like that.”

“We can go through the park. That always cheers you up.”

“Thank you. Do you know?”

“What?”

“I love you.”

“And I, you.”

“An Army is a team; lives, sleeps, eats, fights as a team. This individual heroic stuff is a lot of crap.” - General George S. Patton

Drabble submission for @fmabriggsweek. Day 1: Olivier Mira Armstrong // Secrets

Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5

FanFiction.net | Writing Masterpost

“Explain, Corporal Attilio.”

Lucas flinched at General Armstrong’s commanding voice, but squared his shoulders. He was a Briggs soldier, he would show no fear.

“Sir! I discovered an enemy task force while scouting-”

“And you didn’t inform your superior?”

“It seemed unnecessary for so few-”

“Wrong!”

Lucas shut up so fast he nearly swallowed his tongue.

“You wanted to prove yourself superior to both your enemies and comrades. You chose arrogance over obedience. Had the patrol not apprehended you, crucial information would’ve died with you. I don’t need such irresponsibility in my fort.”

“Sir-!”

“Get out of my sight, Private.”

Just a little oneshot for Father’s Day. Post-series, takes place after my fic Things Untaught, but each can be read independently.

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Eventually, the bustle and bickering died down, and the midwife finished cleaning up after the delivery and left. Granny Pinako went downstairs shortly after with a vague comment about getting dinner started. She took a reluctant Al with her, leaving the new parents alone with their baby for the first time. They sat together on the bed; Ed’s arm around Winry as she cradled the warm little bundle.

The peaceful stillness of the moment contrasted greatly with the chaos just hours before, when the room had been filled with screamed threats, and apologies of equal volume (courtesy of the two blondes themselves). Winry vaguely remembered swearing that she would never again go through this nonsense, even for a baby, and Ed being uncharacteristically agreeable with this declaration, panicked as he had been at the sight of his wife in so much distress.

At the moment, thought, it was all she could do to take her gaze away from the perfect little human in her arms to spare her husband a moment’s glance as he gently rested the tip of his finger on that tiny nose with a reverent touch. He looked down at their child; those intense golden eyes burning with some unnameable, profound emotion. Finally, he spoke in a fervent, awed tone he had heretofore reserved for his little brother.

“Winry?”

“Hmm?”

“Let’s have a million kids.”

“……Yeah.”

Drabble submission for @fmabriggsweek. Day 5: Briggs Doctor // Conflict

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4

FFnet | Writing Masterpost

As a medical officer, Doctor Webber had served on a variety of battlefields. Yet Briggs was where she felt safest.

Naturally she appreciated the hazards of the north, and the extreme measures necessary to survive. However, these dangers were predictable, consistent. The mountains were merciless, but not vindictive. A falling icicle wouldn’t target you again if it missed. Secure inside the fortress, she could help patients during battles without becoming a target herself.

But she was no mouse, to flee a threatened nest. Should Briggs ever be breached, she would protect her home with as much ferocity as her comrades.

Drabble submission for @fmabriggsweek. Day 4: Neil // Downtime

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 5

FFnet | Writing Masterpost

“Knock, knock,” Doctor Webber entered Neil’s workroom. “Isn’t this your vacation day?”

“Yep,” he answered, tightening a final pin, then setting down the hand.

“And you’re here with the Mad Bear instead of out with a girl.” She squinted at his materials. “Is that diamond?”

“For the fingertips.” He began attaching the upper arm pylon to the shoulder interface.

“No wonder you never get out, blowing your paycheck like this.”

“Why would I want to be anywhere else?! I want to see if this works!”

“You’re a bonafide mad scientist, you know that, right?”

Neil grinned. “Don’t you forget it.”

The Hughes residence has a welcome, if unexpected, visitor. Amidst a swirl of good news and confessions, Gracia finds herself filling a role that she wishes her husband could have.

This was supposed to be a Father’s Day thing about how Ed is going to be the best dad ever, but it ended up a lot longer, later, and more Gracia-centric than originally planned. Oneshot, contains mild language. Set five years after the Promised Day, so Elicia is nine and Ed is twenty-one. Takes place before my fic Bundled Emotion, but each can be read independently.

Archive of Our Own | FanFiction.net | Other Stories

“Mom! Mooom!”

Gracia, determining that her daughter’s tone was not urgent enough for an immediate reaction, continued sprinkling grated cheese over the freshly mixed casserole before her.

“Mooooooooooommmmmmmm!!!”

“Just a minute, sweetheart, I’m busy!” she called, brushing the last bits from her hands and hearing a despondent groan in reply. Only after she had checked the oven’s temperature, placed the casserole inside, and set her kitchen timer did she respond to the girl’s summons.

“Mommommommommommommommommommommom-”

“Stop that, I’m right here,” Gracia said as she entered the sitting room. “What is it?”

Elicia was sitting on the couch clutching the telephone receiver to her ear. “Okay, so Tabitha called and said her dog just had puppies, five puppies, and she said they’re really super cute, and I really want to go see them, so can I pleeeaaaase go over to her house and see them?”

“Have you cleaned your room?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Made your bed?”

“Yep!”

Gracia nodded. “All right, but be back before dinner, okay?”

“Thanks, Mom!” Elicia beamed, chattered a quick “shesaidyesbetheresoon” into the phone before hanging up, and dashed to her room to collect her shoes, giving her mother a hasty hug as she passed.

Gracia sighed as she glanced at the telephone. She was going to have to get those girls to stop calling each other so often. They were only a few blocks apart, after all, they didn’t need it to communicate. Their phone bill hadn’t been this high since…well…

She was startled by a sudden rap at the door. I don’t remember there being anyone coming over today. A little apprehensive, she opened it slightly, then swung it wide with a matching smile when she saw the knocker.

“Edward!”

Standing just outside with his hands in his pockets and a bright gleam in his gold eyes, the former Fullmetal Alchemist grinned back. “Hi, Mrs. Hughes.”

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I was going to post something special for today, but my brother’s leaving tomorrow and I won’t see him again for two years, so I’ve been prioritizing family time. I’ll just copy & paste these two drafts from a more-or-less abandoned WIP and reblog a couple things, ‘cause I’ve gotta do something.

Feedback always appreciated. Who knows, one of you might inspire me to resurrect this thing.

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Hospital Visit

Dusk had fallen by the time Roy’s team confirmed that there was neither trace nor trail of Alphonse Elric anywhere in a three-mile radius of the supposed terrorist hideout. After a long day full of generally unpleasant surprises, Mustang was now faced with the prospect of being the person to inform Fullmetal that his younger brother had seemingly vanished into thin air.

Of course, he thought as Hawkeye parked the military car near East City Hospital, there’s always a chance, however unlikely, that Edward already knows what happened to Alphonse.

“Maybe Fullmetal hasn’t woken up yet,” Roy said hopefully. “I mean, what good will it do to bother him while he’s unconscious? It’d probably be best to just call it a day and come back tomorrow when he’s much more likely to be up and about.”

Riza sighed, falling into step behind him as they exited the vehicle. “Sir, it’s bad enough when you procrastinate on paperwork; could you please avoid trying to shirk your other duties as an officer?” They walked in silence for a moment. “He won’t blame you, you know,” she added in a softer tone. “Edward knows that you only passed on the information from General Hakuro. He did say that a thorough investigation had already been performed.”

“As a commanding officer, what happens to my subordinates in the line of duty is always my responsibility. Even if Fullmetal doesn’t acknowledge that, I cannot ignore it.” He knew she could understand the message behind his words, one he was loath to say aloud. I’m afraid to face up to the fact that I’ve now lost a gambit and the two of them may be paying the price.

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