I like to imagine that while he was growing(?) Artemis' clone body, Foaly remembered that Artemis is a trans guy and he, Foaly, another trans guy, was like hm...yknow what...I'll be nice to the mudboy...
Cue Artemis, upon regaining most of his memories, realizing that he was born female and never got any surgery absolutely befuddled over how his transition happened
In the first book Holly says that a fairy can only have one kid every 20 years, and later we learn that twins are extremely rare.
THEN, in TAC, Foaly says something about his kids. At this point in time, Foaly and Caballine have been married for four years at most (I think), so, in other words, not enough time for them to have multiple children, unless they had twins which, judging by how Merval and Descant are famous simply BECAUSE they are twins and literally nothing else, highlighting their rarity, seems unlikely.
Conclusion: Foaly and Caballine's kids are adopted thank you for coming to my ted talk
Artemis' hands are always cold. Someone get this boy some mittens
Butler's texts are always full of typos because his hands are too big for the keyboard and Artemis always reprimands him for it
When Arty gets a crush, he sorts out his feelings by converting them into a Violet Tsirblou book
Beau, Minerva's little brother, grows up to be a trans girl <3 peace and love on planet earth
Mayne, Foaly's nephew from TLG, is autistic and hyperfixates on unicorns :) He's also genderfluid and uses she/he/they/horn
Speaking of Foaly, he realized he was Not Cis early in his career as technical consultant and decided to purge his deadname from every database underground and now he goes strictly by his surname
I've said it before I think but Opal has this weird hate-crush on centaur man. Holly REALLY likes to make fun of him for it
Foaly's van robot thing from TLG likes to drive his kids around Haven to keep them occupied when Foaly and Caballine need some peace and quiet. Foaly has given him full permission to blast down the streets back to the house and/or run a bitch over if anyone tries to get inside to get to the kids
Having many horse thoughts atm. He lives in my brain.
ANYways, Artemis' clone body is all fucked up before he gets used to it. Mood swings, random bursts of energy, spasms, the like.
When he was a ghost, he'd mostly hang around Butler and the twins. Opening and closing doors, knocking things over (never anything expensive), tugging on hair. Just little harmless things to try and show them he was there
Angeline is pansexual and just doesn't Know It
Mulch routinely refers to the Artemii as Artemis: Part 1 and Artemis: Part 2
Vampires are REAL and they live among humans. They don't have any real BIG government, but there are mini governments in major cities like New York, Chicago *COUGH Jon Spiro vampire au COUGH*, Oslo, Paris, ect. They're more peaceful than one would assume, and only the occasional rogue causes any trouble. When a human IS turned into a vampire though, they're usually welcomed into vampire society. Pureblood vampires got the whole set, burning in the daylight, required permission to enter homes (just like fairies), big big fangs, whole nine yards. Humans who are TURNED into vampires don't have that though. They do have fangs, but theirs are more easily hidden.
Artemis and Butler once got stalked throughout Tokyo while on Business(TM) because one of the resident vampires thought Artemis was one too and that he needed Help because eek big scary human man
There was another instance where Artemis was sent a letter inviting him to join a training course for newly turned vampires. He chalked it up to a prank and threw the letter in the trash
Many ghosts choose to haunt quiet, serene places. Places that won’t constantly be disturbed by the living. Others latch onto the place of their death, or places that had great significance to them.
And others, as such in the case of Artemis Fowl ll, choose to haunt people.
---
In the six months of denial before his charge’s resurrection, Butler could often be found in the Fowl Manor dojo, unleashing his grief onto whatever unfortunate punching bag he happened to be closest to.
Guilt. That’s what it was.
‘You haven’t failed me.’ He had said. But Butler knew that was a lie. A lie told for his own sake. And he had seen right through it. He had failed him. Twice now. The first time at Taipei 101, the second to Opal Koboi.
He thought he saw him sometimes, sitting in the library. And then he would blink, and his charge would be gone.
Other times, he thought he felt a faint presence next to his own, walking alongside him through the Manor’s long hallways.
Oftentimes, early in the morning, Beckett would talk about the pale hands that tucked him in the night before, and the cold lips that had kissed him on the forehead. And every time, Myles, without fail, would tell him he had dreamed the whole thing, unaware of the unseen specter hovering right beside him.
Whenever she visited, Holly would bristle at the cold draft that lightly ruffled her hair.
And Foaly would complain about how often his tail got caught in the floorboards, and the sharp tug that followed.
Sleeping had never been difficult for Butler, but it would seem that that had changed.
Occasionally, the same draft that would ruffle Holly’s hair would also playfully swat Foaly’s glasses off his face. And Foaly would stare at them, laying on the floor.
Rain thumped against the window, and Butler gazed up at the ceiling, letting the old memory play in his head like an old movie.
Artemis was only a toddler, a waddling shrimp of a boy. Yet already he had proven himself unique.
Although, as intelligent as he was, little Arty refused to speak a word.
Fowl Sr. would ease his wife’s worried looks and questions of ‘When will he talk to us?’ with the same simple statement every time.
“Plenty of geniuses take a while to learn simple things.” He would say. Every time. “Albert Einstein couldn’t speak until he was nine!”
And every time, Butler would look down at the little Fowl holding onto his leg and think, It’s genii. Not geniuses. You’d appreciate the proper term, wouldn’t you, little buddy?
It came as quite the surprise to the Fowl parents when Artemis, two days after his third birthday, spelled ‘mother’ with his toy blocks.
“Arty,” Mrs. Fowl had started eagerly. “Do you know what that says?”
Baby Artemis glanced sideways at his toy blocks, popped the blue pacifier out of his mouth (a thing that Fowl Sr. tried desperately to wean Artemis off of), pointed at Angeline and confidently said, “Mother.”
Mrs. Fowl squealed and scooped Artemis up off the ground while Fowl Sr. smiled approvingly. Although Artemis did adore his mother, he decidedly did not adore being flung around like a ragdoll and was quickly thinking up a plan to vomit on her to make her put him down when Butler, as always, came to the rescue.
That memory was always something of Butler’s guilty pleasure. Pleasure because it brought him great joy to know something someone else didn’t, especially after Artemis grew a little and began his mastermind-ing. Guilty because he somewhat felt that he had robbed the Fowl parents of something quite significant.
Their son’s first word.
Artemis’ real first word had been said one day after his third birthday, not two. Artemis was tugging Butler along to his room, presumably to show him something. The Fowl heir seemed terribly excited, more excited than Butler thought he could ever recall seeing him.
When they had made it to his bedroom, Artemis yanked on Butler’s pant leg once more, ushering him in.
“Okay, okay, I’m coming.” Butler waved a hand down at the little boy.
Said little boy continued to tug on Butler’s pant leg until he was far enough in the room for him to close the door.
“What is it, little man?” Butler asked as Artemis waddled over to his bed. There was a neat stack of papers at the foot.
Artemis rifled through the stack until he found the two pages he was looking for. He held them up and brandished them proudly to his bodyguard, who crouched behind him patiently.
On the pages, there were two words, scrawled unmistakably in a toddler’s handwriting, only slightly more cohesive.
The first page said, ‘Mother’
The other said, ‘Butler’
The bodyguard smiled broadly at his young charge, who grinned back at him expectantly. Butler placed a hand on Artemis’ shoulder and patted it twice. “Nice job, little man.”
Artemis seemed to think this reaction was a little lackluster, and thrust the paper with his bodyguard’s name farther into his face.
“Butler!” The young heir cried, pointing at the paper. “Butler!”
The bodyguard blinked for a moment, then grinned. He ruffled his charge’s hair, and Artemis actually giggled. When Butler took his hand away, Artemis looked up at him and gently headbutted his chin in quiet request.
Butler sighed, though not with frustration or anything of the like. More fond. Artemis had been doing that since he had figured out how to lift his head.
Gingerly, Butler flipped up the toddler’s bangs and kissed him on the forehead.
Laying in his bed in Fowl Manor, Butler continued to gaze up at the ceiling, trying to remember the sensation of kissing his charge on the forehead, imagining that if he felt that gentle touch just one more time he would be able to go back to a more simple, happy time. A time when his charge didn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders, when he wouldn’t count the number of words he said or steps he took. A time when he was alive.
Butler’s eyes watered at the thought.
It was hard, trying to stand strong all the time. Trying to look tough so that those who looked up to you wouldn’t feel afraid. It was hard to hold that facade for too long, but Butler had always managed.
Though in the quiet emptiness of his room, no pacing, scheming footsteps, no quiet page turning, no beautiful classical music, no Artemis ranting about things Butler didn’t understand, that facade began to crack.
Slowly at first, the cracks emerged. Butler screwed his eyes shut.
Any moment now, I’ll hear Artemis’ footsteps through the wall.
As luck would have it, just as Butler thought it, Juliet walked past his bedroom door to check on the twins, lingering only a moment before deciding to keep walking.
There he is.
Butler squeezed eyes shut even tighter as he imagined Artemis walking away, the footsteps following him as he left.
And there he goes.
Gradually, Butler opened his eyes. The footsteps were gone now, receded into the dark hallways of the Manor, and there was only the ceiling to greet him.
As the rain thumped against the window, the facade shattered, like a glass gripped in a vice.
Butler’s shoulders quivered as he began to sob into the dark. He slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his cries. To try and feel a little bit bigger (which sounds ridiculous, until you consider how small one feels when breaking down), he sat up.
I have to stay strong for Artemis. I can’t let Artemis see me cry. If Artemis sees me like this, how could he ever think I could protect him?
But when he could only hear the pitter patter of the rain outside, and a quick whip of lightning illuminated the grave in the distance, farther away than Butler would ever want Artemis to be, reality began to seep in.
Artemis is gone. I failed.
Those five words circled Butler’s mind.
Artemis is gone. I failed. Artemis is gone. I failed.
Butler could see the grinning face of that self-satisfied toddler in his mind.
Artemis is gone. I failed. Artemis is gone. I failed.
Butler could see bright blue eyes looking up at him. And when Butler looked back, he could tell that his boy felt completely safe.
Artemis is gone. I failed.
I failed.
And then that boy slipped away.
I failed.
Into that green hemisphere of magic.
I failed.
Out of Butler’s reach.
I failed.
Butler felt a scream building in his chest.
I failed.
He bit down on his hand to cage the scream inside.
I failed.
His hand began to bleed.
I failed.
Blood trickled down Butler’s chin.
Failure.
Just as he thought he would bite his fingers off, a cold hand settled on Butler’s cheek.
He released his hand from between his red-stained teeth, looking around for the source of the coolness on his face. But there was nothing.
Artemis is gone. I failed.
Those five words surfaced in his mind once more.
Five. How funny.
But it wasn’t funny. Not really.
Another whip of lightning illuminated the world outside, and for a split, wonderful second, Butler saw a moonlit face in front of his own, pale and blue eyed.
He blinked.
And then it was gone.
Exhausted, Butler fell back onto the mattress. He was so tired. He cast a glance outside. The first rays of morning were beginning to peek over the horizon.
Sighing, he let his eyes flutter shut. He fell asleep quickly.
Before sleep completely overtook him, however, he was just conscious enough to feel cold lips press against his forehead.
Once Butler really had fallen asleep, Artemis drifted elsewhere, presumably to go tuck in his little brothers.
