Author's Notes: Now, normally, I do not like self-inserts. However, this was much too entertaining to bear.

Secondly, I think the two Fowl twins deserve some love. Mostly, all the (insert canon male here)/OFCs are with Artemis, so, instead, I shall work with Myles and Beckett!

Thirdly, I do not have a name for this character. I shall work on it as I move along.

Fourthly, this character is not the same age as I am. She simply reminds me of me.

Fifthly, I have way too many notes for you guys to read. But, this is the last. I have not read the second, third, fourth, fifth and sixth Artemis Fowl books. The facts may be inaccurate. So, on with the fanfiction!

Disclaimer: Not mine. Artemis Fowl is just.. not mine.

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It was three o'clock in the morning and I was thoroughly indulged in reading Artemis Fowl fanfiction on the internet. I was dodging those shameless self-inserts and Mary Sues, however, since they barely satisfied me at all.

I mean, come on, Artemis Fowl was one of the greatest books written in all time, and here people were, ruining its essence with characters that weren't thought through well at all, and with themselves at the Fowl boy's side.

Same story, same story. They meet Artemis, find him as a bastard-like criminal, hate him, cause him to hate them too, and then suddenly, using the clichéd term that opposites attract, they would fall in love; head over heels in love! Then, with a POOF!, the main female character would be snatched by evil fairies, and then as if she hadn't been spending most of her time 'learning genius things' with Artemis, she would have no idea how to solve the problem, and await her knight in shining armor.. er, suit, to save her; as if Artemis had amazing physical abilities and did not need Butler at all!

So instead, I searched for other things.

I had been browsing through for around six hours now, starting from seven in the evening from the night before, and from Domovoi and Artemis pairings to Holly and Juliet, I had reached a dead end.

For, before my eyes, lay one unfortunate result –

-results for Myles, ended up having two fanfictions. As if this wasn't bad enough, results for Beckett had one.

Now, if I had been in the right state of mind, I would have willed up all my courage to write my own Myles or Beckett fanfiction, though being awake at three o'clock in the morning did some things to you. From reading, I had then considered taking a drink, and thus stood from my seat and sauntered over to the kitchen.

Looking through my cabinet, I realized that I would have to go to the grocery soon.

Then again, who would ever have the money to go to the grocery when all you received from your pain-in-the-ass kind of job was four-thousand dollars a month; and screaming from your boss when you used the telephone line to call your friends instead of receiving calls? Funny how ironic life is. They tell you to enjoy your life, to be happy, to feed yourself and work hard for money, when all they'd give you is minimum wage and the occasional slap on the butt from the old perverts who worked with you.

Wow, I never thought of myself as someone who would actually be a witness that actions speak louder than words.

Finally, I found myself some vodka and drank it straight from the bottle.

It went down like battery acid and taste like piss.

Delicious.

In my dark little apartment, you would think that I would be happy and all, trying to brighten it up with smiles and giggles and corny dance music, but I liked it dark. No, I was not a victim of extreme depression or heartbreak or love trouble (hell, I gave up on this a long time ago), but I was just way too caught up in reading fanfiction in my spare time that I could barely care about anything else.

I wrote fanfiction, too, but mostly never really published them since they were barely anything worth being proud of.

Stop fighting with yourself, my conscience told me. I took another swig of the vodka, and decided it would taste better with orange juice.

I read in this book once that you had to listen to your heart to be able to find what you wanted most in life.

Well, ha-ha to you believers, I doubt I even have a heart. Sure, I've got one that beats in my chest and helps my blood flow, but I doubt that there's anything in there besides.. cells and muscles.. and other things. I didn't take nursing, you see, or any of those doctor-biology-genius courses. I didn't even go to college.

So, taking out the carton of orange juice, I poured it into a glass and then added the vodka. Swishing the liquid around a little, I toasted; thoroughly smitten with drink, and downed it all.

I took with me another glass of my ingenious little mixture, and went back to my computer, clicking through random fanfiction and giggling a little. I was a light-weight and not afraid to admit it, and got tipsy easily.

Cross the line from tipsy to full-blown drunk, however, and I could barely focus on reading at all!

I laughed, singing to myself and dancing around like a pre-schooler would with a stuffed animal; and squeaked when I fell on my bottom. If my parents would see me now, drunk early in the morning, they would have grounded me on the spot. It was a good thing I moved! I told myself, and attempted to stand, wobbling a little bit on my legs.

Walking over to the computer, I clicked Microsoft Word, and waited for it to load; small giggles escaping my lips as the bar reached the end. I stared, at the blank document, as if the color white mesmerized me and I could barely focus on anything else; and then finally thought about things.

Maybe those girls wrote about self-inserts and Mary Sues because they were bored of the real world, I thought to myself, the silence in the room ironically deafening me and causing me to actually get serious. Maybe they just can't handle the boredom real life gives you. Maybe they were just doing what made them happy.

A sudden smile appeared on my face, and I looked at the document through clouded, dreary eyes. Pursing my lips, I readied my fingers above the keyboard, thinking about what it was I was to type.

I want an adventure. I typed, staring at the words with a dumb grin spread across my face. You would think I looked pretty much stupid like this, but it was explainable – I had never felt so content in a long time.

At that moment, a shudder ripped through me; snapping me out of my reverie, causing my eyes to widen in slight surprise.

I, however, shook the feeling off; leaning my arms on my table and laying my head on it.

I just hope I don't drool on the keyboard.

And that was the last thought I had in a while.

&&&&&&

My head was pounding, my ears were ringing – AND CHRIST ALMIGHTY WHO WAS SCREAMING IN MY EAR?!

I winced, hoping that I would not be charged for murder for killing whoever it was that wanted to mess with me, before feeling utterly cold water wash me whole.

Opening my eyes, I looked up at what awaited me; ready to choke them, snap their necks, cause their blood to spill on my expensive rug –

- oh my God.

I stared, for a long time, up at the figure that currently loomed over me in a slightly-evil manner.

"Beckett, do fetch me another bucket. It appears like our little intruder has yet to truly wake up," came the cold voice, and I nearly screamed in horror.

Myles Fowl. Giving orders to Beckett Fowl.

Shit! I was in Fowl Manor, wasn't I?

"Okay, okay, I'm awake," I mumbled, but was too late as another bout of freezing water was poured over me. "DAMN! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU, DEAF?!" I shouted, looking up at the Irish boy and frowning, when I saw his mirror image.

It was easy to tell who was who.

Myles, was wearing a suit – what, with the self-centered egotistical little bastard he was, and Beckett was wearing a regular tee shirt and jeans. It was a wonder how I could tell the two apart when I barely even knew them. They weren't given much recognition in the books, either, as far as I could tell.

Myles smirked, and Beckett pointed at him.

"It was his idea!" the younger twin said, nodding vigorously as if he was scared I would break him in two. I would if I could, but I wasn't as strong as Butler. Only in my dreams, I suppose.

Myles waved it off as though it did not matter, snapping his fingers; and sighing. "I believe that now I would have to dispose of you, madame. Butler?" he called, and I winced. Didn't this guy have his own bodyguard? Or did he or she run away trying?

Hands gripped my arms tightly, and I winced, looking up at the shaved man with a small pout.

"You're not really doing this, are you?" I asked through my eyes, and he only shook his head. "I have to," he responded, and I sighed. From complaining about my life, I was going to end my life. Funny how I never got to love life as it was.

I really had to learn how to keep myself out of trouble.

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Author's Notes: Two words. Writer's. Block. Yep. I got it again. The quality sucks because of that. But, anyway, hope you enjoyed. I hope I got Myles and Beckett right.. and yes, their bodyguard ran away trying. :D