#sofia massetti

[weeinterpreter]

Part 6. All is Revealed.

What’s a Trope Bingo?

What’s the Evil Association of Evil Villains?

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5][Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8]

Artemis swallowed. 

"Don't move, Butler," he ordered. It wasn't the best thing to tell a bodyguard. Butler's hand twitched. Several more red dots appeared on the bodyguard's face and chest.

"I'd listen to the boy, if I was you," a voice said from the shadows. Artemis and Butler turned to the familiar woman, stepping into the dimly lit reading room. It was the librarian. Except whereas she had been a mousy bookworm with dull and baggy clothes in the afternoon, she now sported a bloodred figure-hugging suit.

Artemis cleared his throat. "There seems to be a misunderstanding."

"Really? To me, it looks like you tried to break into my library to steal a book."

Two more people joined in the reading room. A gangly man with wide-rimmed glasses pushed a boy forward, a shotgun pushed between his shoulder blades. Artemis' eyes widened when he recognised the boy.

"You?"

The boy looked around with wide eyes. 

"Where am I?"

The librarian stemmed her hands on her hips.

"Really?"

The boy shrugged. "Sleepwalker. It's a horrible condition and-"

"And a lie. Don't play games with me, Alex."

Alex stopped himself, paling at the familiar address. The librarian pushed her hands into the pockets of her tailor-made suit, her cool demeanour returning.

"Yes, I know your name. Knowledge is everything, my dear Alex. Something that would have kept you from getting into trouble."

She gave the man behind Alex a nod, turning to the stairs. 

"Follow me. You can try to flee, of course. In which case, Mr Iljitsch will shoot you in the back. He or the sharpshooters I have positioned throughout the library."

Artemis placed a hand on his bodyguard's arm.

"We'll follow. No need for violence."

The librarian looked over her shoulder and gave him a knowing smile.

"How lovely." 

***

The librarian and her henchmen manoeuvred Alex, Artemis, and Butler to the back of a jeep, keeping them separated from the driver with a darkened screen. A one-way mirror, no doubt about it.

Butler wasn't too worried, despite their captors driving in circles and turning at seemingly every corner. They weren't trained. They hadn't even frisked him. He was still armed and had his personal tracker hidden inside the left sole of his shoe. Arno would easily track them down.

Eventually, they stopped. Butler had to keep himself from rolling his eyes as they were led through an empty warehouse. Such a cliche. He wondered if there would be chains hanging from the wall somewhere. 

Two giant steel doors at the end of the warehouse separated it from another smaller room. It was just as bare, save for three chairs and the hall's back wall, filled with rows and rows of computers, all sending and receiving a plethora of information. 

Butler sighed. The sound reverberated in the space like the sneeze of an elephant in a mausoleum. 

The librarian turned back with a frown.

"You find my lair ridiculous?"

Butler shrugged. "Cliche."

"Do you know what this is?" the librarian asked, pointing up.

Butler, as well as Alex and Artemis, followed her finger and looked at... 

"Books?" Butler asked.

The librarian's frown turned into a grin.

"Indeed. Suspended above your heads are, in fact, 2 tons of books. 1000 copies of War and Peace. Some heavy stuff, isn't it?"

She laughed at her own joke. Her henchmen joined in.

"Are you planning to kill us now?" Artemis asked once their laughter died down.

Butler groaned, but she only chuckled, wiping a tear from her eye.

"Is that what you villains usually do with your prisoners? How diabolical,” she said as she bent over a keyboard, sending out commands. "I need you to get off my back for a bit."

"Then why are we here?"

The librarian leaned against the console, crossing her arms over her maroon suit jacket.

"Your little shenanigans were impeding our progress. First, the almost brainwashing of the entire planet. Then the almost volcano eruption. Then the almost poisoning of the drinking water. You wannabe villains are truly busy."

Butler frowned. "Are you also villains?"

The librarian scoffed. "Geez, of course not. We're the Association of Librarians."

Butler knitted his eyebrows, but he couldn't place this Association. He had heard of the Association of Evil Actors, the Association of Evil Whisky Drinkers, even the Association of Evil Coffee Drinkers, but Librarians? That one was new. 

Regardless, they needed to distract the librarians for a little while longer until Arno arrived. All he needed to do was to ask a few questions to keep the librarian engaged. Standard procedure.

"Is the Association of Librarians part of the Evil Leprechaun Coven?"

The librarian glared, but before she could answer, a white cat sprinted into the room. Following her was Opal Koboi. And following her, albeit slower, was Jon.

"No, Diamond!" Opal screamed, as the cat jumped into the arms of the librarian. "Don't run to the evil woman!"

"Diamond?" The librarian made a disapproving sound and stroked the cat's fur. "Her name is Mata Hari,” she said and noticing the understanding dawning on Artemis' face, the corners of her mouth turned up. "Much better suited, wouldn't you say?"

Her henchmen pointed their weapons at the newly arrived villains, who had the decency to look ashamed.

"We have run out of chairs, but please make yourself at home," the librarian said.

"What's your plan, then?" Butler asked through gritted teeth. "World domination?"

"I'd rather call it a new world order."

Alex snorted.

"Let me guess. Everybody has to bow to you, the new Queen of the World?"

The woman scoffed. "I'm not interested in power, boy. I want the world to pick up books again, rather than wasting their time on social media. I want to educate the world."

Now Alex laughed. "You want to get rid of social media? How?"

The librarian straightened with a sigh.

"Do you like your social media, Alex? Friendstagram, Chirper, ClickClack? Do you surf the internet?"

Alex nodded cautiously.

"What would you do to access these platforms? To open the internet?"

Alex didn't answer, and the librarian turned towards the screens again. "Launch the program, Mr Foaly."

Artemis chuckled. "I see."

Butler lifted an eyebrow. "You do?"

"It's actually quite clever, although not very diabolical."

The librarian inclined her head. "That's why we are the Association of Librarians. Note the missing Evils in the name?”

Alex groaned. "Can somebody please tell me what the plan is?"

"As soon as the program has launched,” the woman explained with a glint in her eyes, "everybody who wants to go online has to solve questions. Anything from General Knowledge to Quantum Physics. If you and your friends want to spend your time watching silly dance challenges or, even worse, compete in them, you'll have to study first. Quite ingenious, if you think about it."

Butler blinked. "That's it?"

Artemis shook his head. "I told you. Not very diabolical. Your plan has a major flaw, though. I know the answer to any question you could ever ask me."

"Who directed Some Like it Hot?"

Artemis opened his mouth. And closed it again. The librarian smirked. She tapped the side of her head.

"Knowledge."

Butler shook his head. "And who decides the type of questions?"

"I'll choose them depending on progression tests as well as the history of consulted books and learning materials."

"Isn't that a violation of my privacy?" Butler asked.

"Looks to me like you are not not evil," Alex chimed in.

The librarian shrugged. "Perhaps I'm not. A good leader sometimes has to utilise force if it's for the good of the people."

"Machiavelli?" Artemis asked. The librarian beamed.

"Very good, Artemis. Keep it up, maybe you can join the Association."

"So, what will happen to us?"

The librarian crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Once we have launched, you can go. Now, if you'll excuse me. I have to do a speech.”

She was almost out of the room when she turned around once more.

"Oh, and one more thing."

She gave Butler an almost apologetic look. "I really didn't want to do this, but it was necessary."

To be continued.

[irisbyirinatirdea]

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Slow Wine Guida 2019 I Vini Slow, i Grandi Vini e i Vini Quotidiani per Abruzzo e Molise con un mio piccolo commento. Con Giancarlo Gariglio, Fabio Giavedoni, Simone Binelli, Francesco Cirelli, Stefano Papetti Ceroni, CataldiMadonna Vini, Giulia CataldiMadonna, Marina Palusci, Claudio Cipressi, Sofia Pepe, Daniela Pepe, Chiara De Iulis Pepe, Ottaviano Pasquale, Cristiana Tiberio, Sciarr Azienda D'Alesio, Tenuta i Fauri, Valentina Di Camillo, Luigi Di Camillo, Miriam Lee Masciarelli, Marina Cvetic Masciarelli, Masciarelli Tenute Agricole, Cristiana Galasso, Francesco Massetti, ecc. ecc. Il Gourmet Errante.

[weeinterpreter]

Part 7. The thing about brackets.

What’s a Trope Bingo?

What’s the Evil Association of Evil Villains?

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5][Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8]

A shadow fell over the librarian as she spoke. She stepped to the side.

Butler felt it even before he saw it. His heartbeat increased as manic giggling accompanied the figure, stepping into the light. It was a huge clown. And he was armed.

"Please make sure they don't leave while I'm gone, Vincent," the librarian said. 

Vincent cackled and loaded his shotgun.

"A clown?” Alex laughed. "How is he going to stop us?"

Butler breathed through his nose. He wanted to laugh it off, too. It was a man in a clown costume. There was nothing to be afraid of. It wasn't even the same one. He knew all this. Then he glanced at the clown and felt his hands go sweaty.

Suddenly, he was eight years old again. The strongest eight-year-old there was. He was invincible. Felt like it, anyway. He'd soon learn that no eight-year-old would stand a chance against a full-grown adult with an axe in his hands. The smell of the shrill screams, the sound of the metallic blood rose around him like the walls of an impenetrable fortress. It was all in the past. And so was the trembling child, praying fervently that someone would come and save him.

Artemis grimaced as he tried to move his wrists.

"Butler, anytime now, get us out of this mess," he hissed. "If you couldn't tell, I'm in discomfort, something I pay you to get me out of."

Butler only stared at the chuckling clown. Surely coming up with a plan to rescue them all. He could have at least acknowledged him, though. Artemis turned his attention to the boy, who was tied up next to him.

"I suggest you let my bodyguard take care of the situation," he said.

Alex threw him a sour look, but didn't answer. Misinterpreting it, Artemis felt a jab of annoyance and the urge to straighten his tie that he knew was immaculate.

"Judging from your look, my criminal endeavours disgust you."

Alex snorted. "As far as I'm informed, all your criminal endeavours are hardly successful. That lady is a bigger criminal than your whole association combined."

Artemis couldn't decide if he wanted to point out all his successful missions first or find out how Alex knew about the association. He decided on the latter.

"Your association is interested in us, then?"

"For some reason," Alex said through gritted teeth.

"We can't be that unsuccessful then," Artemis said confidently.

"No," Alex spat out. "The MI6 thought you all so inept at committing a crime, they were more worried that you might succeed by sheer idiocy. We actually thought you had somehow messed up the Internet by accident."

Taken aback by the outburst, Artemis frowned. "Well, we didn't and your anger seems a tad inappropriate."

Red spots of anger appeared on Alex's face, but he kept his voice low. "You're such an idiot."

"Actually, my IQ is higher than Albert Ein-"

Before Artemis could finish, two things happened. First, a bang. Then the crumble of stone. And then…

***

Arno Blunt was many things. He was big, and mean, and deadly. He was a professional. One thing he wasn't, was subtle, though. It was the reason he failed to win the scholarship at university. It was the reason he didn't know how to talk to Sid Commons. And definitely the reason the events in the warehouse went down the way they did.

It didn't take him long to locate and find Butler after he didn't return from the nightly… whatever he did. Arno didn't really care. What he did care was having to pause his favourite podcast on gravitational waves just as it was about to get interesting. The giant man parked his truck with a grunt and jogged to the warehouse. He went to the back and, climbing onto some empty barrels, easily jumped to the ledge of the second storey. After shimmying through a half-open window, it was only a matter of minutes to pinpoint where his fellow villains were.

Sneaking along the metal gangway, high above all the chaos, he was tempted to pinch himself. Surely, he was dreaming. There was no chance a ridiculous clown with a shotgun would antagonise Opal Koboi and Jon Spiro (how did they get there in the first place?), Artemis Fowl and Butler (the Butler), and a random blonde teenager.

Villains. You just couldn't let them out of your sight for five minutes.

Looking around his vantage point, Arno focussed in on the huge number of books suspended in the air. He could tell that the ropes holding them up were industry grade. No point in trying to cut them. Cable brackets, on the other hand, were a notorious wild card in construction. One wrong hit, and the entire building would crumble. Arno learned that the hard way during a stint in Bangkok in 1993. What had started as a scare tactic ended up with the collapse of the hotel complex. Time to see if he could pull it off again. Drawing his pistol, Arno aimed and shot.

And then…

***

Vincent, the clown, stopped giggling to look up. The last thing he ever saw was the ornate decorations of a thousand copies of War and Peace coming at him at an incredibly rapid pace.

***

Arno jumped off the ledge, ignoring Artemis' glare as he loosened his ties.

"May I remind you that this stunt was highly dangerous?" Artemis said in a clipped tone.

"How so?" Arno asked.

"If your calculations had been wrong, this copy," Artemis said, pointing at the book that had landed a hair width away from his foot, "would have hit me in the head. Next time, I suggest you consult me before you decide to kill us all." 

Arno shrugged, swaggering over to Butler to punch him on the shoulder. 

"We'll have to have a talk about those clowns, mate," he murmured under his breath. Butler gave him a sharp nod, busying himself with freeing Opal and Jon. Artemis, in the meantime, inspected the wall of computers before he began typing furiously on the main keyboard.  

Alex jogged over, watching him silently, until Artemis made a disappointed sound.

"What is it?" 

"The program has already advanced too far to be stopped, but…"

Alex kept glancing from the screen to the pale boy with a quizzical look. "But?"

"But I could probably change its target protocol to stream another outcome–"

Arno, who had come over as well, slapped a hand on the console. "Okay, in English would be good, smarty pants."

"Instead of knowledge questions, I can prompt something else to be displayed," Artemis explained. "Are you following, Mr Blunt?"

The giant nodded. "Hey, I understood that. So, what are you waiting for? Change it."

Artemis rolled his eyes. "Would that I could. It needs to be something that someone with a pea brain can understand. Any suggestions, Mr Blunt?"

"How about the time I need to bash your face in, kiddo?" Arno snarled.

"Recognising landmarks?" Alex interjected, while Butler held Arno back. "Or objects?"

Artemis considered it. "I don't have any pictures and it would take too long to download them from the internet."

Opal held up her phone. "What about these pictures I have of Diamond? I've got tons."

"That could work," Artemis murmured.

To be concluded.

[weeinterpreter]

Part 8. It’s all fun and games until you get the Butler angry.

What’s a Trope Bingo?

What’s the Evil Association of Evil Villains?

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5][Part 6] [Part 7]

"Fellow librarians, a new era is about to begin," the librarian concluded.

The hall erupted in cheers and hollers as she pressed the enter button on the laptop. She turned to the screen behind her to watch the numbers count down from five to zero. The screen went dark before a message popped up.

Are you human? Please choose every picture with a cat to proceed.

Underneath it, nine pictures of cats appeared. One cat, to be precise.

The librarian stared at the message with an open mouth, unable to comprehend what had just happened. The hall fell silent. Somebody coughed. The woman turned around, her hands clenching and unclenching. She chewed on the inside of her cheek for one distracted second, before she straightened her shoulders and gave her audience a confident smile.

"A slight malf–"

She never finished the sentence, because an arm the size of a log wrapped around her shoulder. Cold steel pressed against her temple. Gasping, the librarian froze against the solid wall that had sprung up behind her.

For a second, nothing happened.

"Well, well, well," Artemis said, as he came on stage, closely followed by Arno Blunt, Jon Spiro, Opal Koboi with a hissing Mata Hari/Diamond, and Alex. "Looks, like you’re not as clever as you think you are."

The librarian's attacker turned her around like a rag doll and she sighed.

"I apologise," she said, only loud enough to be heard by one person. "I didn't want to scare you."

She flinched at the sound of the pistol being cocked.

"I do," the voice rumbled.

"My association is only interested in knowledge. We don't kill people. Vincent had strict instructi–”

She gasped for air as the vice-like grip squeezed her even harder.

"I don't care," he said, his voice unforgiving.

Artemis had stopped in the middle of the stage, smiling. Waiting. When nobody reacted, he tapped his custom-made loafers on the stage.

"Well?"

The librarian clawed at the arm that held her in place.

"Well, what?" she spat.

"As I said before"—he said with a glare—"you can either give me the password to stop the protocol or risk an eternity of picking cat pictures on the internet. Your choice."

The librarian clenched her jaw before she let out a defeated huff. "The password is Conoscenza. Capital C."

Artemis walked over to the laptop and typed it in. "Quite clever, too. Italian for knowledge."

He gave Butler a sign, and the librarian stumbled free. She crossed her arms, throwing the giant a wary look as he returned to his spot next to Artemis.

"I could’ve changed the world for the better," she said.

"Let's be real," Artemis said with a raise of his eyebrows. "You never had a chance of succeeding against the Evil Association of Evil Villains. You have potential, but you aren't as good as you’d like."

Seeing her expression darkening, Butler placed a hand on Artemis' shoulder.

"Perhaps we should go," he said.

Arno Blunt gave him an incredulous look. "Who says she won’t try the same thing once we are gone?"

"Don't insult my intelligence," the librarian said through gritted teeth. "It's not good enough if it didn't work the first time. It'll be a bulletproof plan next time."

Arno drew his pistol. "I wouldn't be too sure about that, missy."

Artemis held up his hand.

"Stop, Mr Blunt. We are criminals, not savages. We riddle plans with bullets, not people."

Arno rolled his eyes. "You are not giving me orders, kiddo. I've wasted a whole evening rescuing you when I could have listened to the latest episode on gravi–"

He interrupted himself when he noticed the curious look in the librarian's eyes.

"I mean, the latest guns being released."

"Let it go, Arno,” Jon Spiro said, patting his bodyguard on the arm. “You can have tomorrow off as well. We don't need the police on our trail. Again. They are still looking for Fred, the Frogger, remember? I'd say we're even for today. Whaddaya say?"

Making a disappointed sound, Arno dropped his gun. He pushed his hands deep into his faded jeans and sauntered behind Jon Spiro and Opal as they walked back from where they came from.

Alex slowed down until he was walking next to Artemis.

"I'm actually impressed," he said.

Artemis gave him a quizzical look.

"I mean, you sabotaged her evil plan. That's pretty noble of you."

Artemis straightened his tie. "Obviously, I wouldn't want another association to reap our hard-earned reputation. It's us who take over the world or nobody."

"Oh." Alex's smile dropped, and he slowly turned away.

Artemis stopped, deeply confused. Suddenly, his victory seemed less sweet, and he wondered what could have possibly soured his success.

"This isn't over," the librarian called out after them. "You have won today, but I'll be back."

"Oh, I know this one," Alex quipped up. "It's from The Terminator."

The librarian let out a surprised laugh.

"Your essay on the Spanish Civil War is due on Monday, Alex," she shot back, her lips quirking up as the boy blanched. "And what you have written so far is atrocious. I suggest you work on that."

"I can look at it," Artemis blurted out to everyone's surprise.

"I mean, it's pretty bad," Alex said, with a grimace. "But, I mean, if you like."

Artemis cleared his throat, checking the knot of his tie. "We can discuss this over... a meal... perhaps?"

Alex shrugged, dropping his head to keep his lopsided grin from showing. And with that, the odd group left the stage to a still frozen audience.

The end... for now.

[weeinterpreter]

Monster clown. Butler is not afraid of lot of things… but clowns are the exception.

This is not the monster clown... yet. 😈

What's a Trope Bingo?

What's the Evil Association of Evil Villains?

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5][Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8]

Part 3. Clowns and Libraries.

It was an early afternoon, and the sun had disappeared behind a thick wall of clouds when Butler and Artemis entered Dublin's Central Library.

"Obviously, I would have solely relied on my immense technological skills, if it hadn't been detrimental to the plan to come here in person," he explained.

"Indeed," Butler answered automatically.

"The biggest problem," he explained, walking towards the main desk, "is that the library is still relying heavily on non-digitalised forms of organisation. Which for a library of the 21st century is truly disturbing. Maybe I should donate some money."

He stopped in front of the librarian. She wore a faded plaid pullover and had just poured herself more coffee in a mug that said "This is what an awesome librarian looks like".

"Sorry, Miss," Artemis paused, reading the woman's name tag. "Miss Massetti. I'm working on a school project. Do you recognise this symbol?"

He pulled out a piece of paper handing it to her. After Diamond had shredded the original card to pieces, Artemis had redrawn the symbol from memory as best as possible. The librarian studied it for a moment, pushing her glasses further up her nose.

"I do," she said to Artemis' surprise. "In fact, your schoolmate came in just two hours ago. He's upstairs in the Ancient World Section."

Artemis' ears perked up. His schoolmate? He was fairly sure that none of his schoolmates knew what a library was and he was absolutely positive that the person researching the same symbol as he did wasn't researching a school project, either.

"Where is that exactly?"

The woman took a sip of her coffee before she pulled a face and got up.

"I have to go up there, anyway. I'll show you."

Grabbing a wrapped package, she motioned to the stairs. Artemis sighed. "Don't you have a lift?"

The librarian gave him a critical look, but didn't grace him with an answer. Once they reached the top of the second floor, she pointed towards the back as she dropped her parcel and began opening it.

"The Ancient World Section is just over there."

Artemis nodded before turning to his bodyguard. "I will only be a minute... dad."

Butler inclined his head.

"You are quite formal," the librarian noted as she straightened, unfolding a cardboard cutout.

Butler crossed his arms behind his back.

"As former military, I don't think tha-haaaa."

The woman looked up from adjusting the figure of a beaming clown cutout that read, "Clown Bepo wants you to read more books."

"Are you okay?" she asked, paling. "Are you having a heart attack?"

Butler cleared his throat, forcing a blank look on his face, and stared the woman down instead. "Of course not."

The librarian glanced at the cutout when understanding dawned on her face. She tried to suppress a smile.

"Not a huge fan of clowns, huh?"

"Not particularly," he said through gritted teeth, letting his eyes wander over the library floor.

"To be fair," she said, turning the cutout around, "I doubt a clown will get the kids to read more."

Butler nodded absent-mindedly, pausing when his attention was drawn to-

"Do you, uh, realise there are kids making out in the aisles?" he asked, nodding towards the couple across the floor in the Science section.

The librarian followed his gaze and shrugged. "Oh yes, but not for much longer."

"How so?" Butler asked warily.

"Well," she said, looking around. "Do you see that boy over there? He came here a few times with his dates. One day he got stood up and picked up Simone de Beauvoir. That was a year ago. He'll start studying Philosophy next month. And those two girls over there? They kept coming here to make out, too. They flunked their French exams and come here to study now. Isn't that amazing?"

She turned to him with a beam until she noticed Butler's lifted eyebrow.

"The studying part," she spluttered. "Not the flunking, haha."

When Butler didn't react, she mumbled something under her breath and scurried away.

To be continued.

[weeinterpreter]

Ok but we need an story where Butler retires, finds love, has a child and just lives a somewhat normal life. Imagine: Saturday afternoons waking up to the smell of pancakes, his wifey struggling to get their child in a high chair, making jokes about growing old and stuff. Butler would pack lunches and leave little notes in the bags with self defense tips. Yes, I have been crying over this for past few days 🥲 this man has been through too much to not find peace 😭

Butler woke up the moment the door to the bedroom swung open. He kept his eyes closed, lying perfectly still. Almost perfectly still except for the grin tugging at his lips. He smelt the coffee. And so did Sofia. She stirred.

"I told him not to use the gas on his own," she croaked.

Butler tightened his arms around her waist, pulled her closer and kissed her bare shoulder.

"I made coffee," a tiny voice said from the foot of the bed.

Butler lifted his head to see a small boy with wild curls and an enormous coffee mug in his hand, only filled with about an inch of coffee. Clever boy.

Sofia raised herself on her elbow, the movement seemingly spending her last strength. Accepting the mug from the child, she downed the coffee, sighed, and let her head fell back on her pillow. The boy furrowed his brow.

"You need to get up now, Mama. It's morning outside."

Sofia groaned. "It's Sunday, Frederico. The day of the Lord, let me sleep."

"But you had coffee," Frederico protested.

Butler chuckled and rolled out of bed. Frederico's face lit up.

"Make more coffee," Sofia called out to them as they walked into the kitchen.

Butler eyed the chair that Frederico had used to make the coffee on the stove. He considered telling him for the umpteenth time not to handle the gas flame without his parents around. Not that it would do much good. Frederico took every "no" as a challenge that he needed to overcome.

"Let's feed the chickens," he said instead, placing the chair back at the table before turning to the backdoor.

"I've already done that," Frederico quipped proudly. Butler threw a look outside the window. Ten excited chickens filled the courtyard, after Frederico had forgotten to close the chicken coop.

"So you did."

"I also collected the fresh eggs, and ran around with Bello to keep him active."

"With or without the eggs?" Butler asked dryly.

Frederico placed his hands on his sides and gave Butler a stern look. He had learned that from his mother, no doubt. "Without the eggs, Papa. Really, I am no baby anymore."

"I can see that," Butler said, the lines around his eyes growing deeper. "Looks, like you have already done a lot today."

"It's 6.30 in the morning, Papa. Carp the diem. That's what Uncle Artemis says. That's why I have also checked our… po-visions."

He pulled a piece of paper from the table and showed it to Butler. On it, the boy had drawn pictures of eggs, milk, flour and different fruits. "We have everything for pancakes today."

Butler tousled Frederico's hair, wondering if–

"Butler!"

Butler blinked, looking from Artemis, sitting behind his desk to the tray in his hands.

"Apologies," he mumbled, and placed the teacup on the desk.

"You are a bit distracted lately, old friend. You aren't coming down with the flu, aren't you?"

Butler shook his head, hurrying out of the study.

"Of course not, Artemis. Lunch will be ready in another hour."

I apologise that this (again) has only been a (day) dream of Butler. It's not that I don't want him to be happy (I really do!), but as long as I haven't finished writing "Diamond Blue and Cinnamon Gold", I don't want to jump ahead of time. I still hope you enjoyed this, and hey, if you want to have some fluff for Butler, feel free to check out my series. 😉

[weeinterpreter]

“Which story are you going to tell me today?”

“You can choose between how I threw Juliet’s first girlfriend over the hedge, or the time Artemis’s first outing almost caused an international incident.”

Butler’s job as Artemis’s bodyguard has been turbulent since Day 1 but at least his emotional state was in less of a turmoil.

[weeinterpreter]

pop.

[Part of the Private Investigator/Detective AU]

Detective Sergeant Domovoi Butler was a no-nonsense kind of guy. At least, he thought so. His baby sister preferred the term “being a boring adult”. She also had the annoying habit of stealing his shirts and wearing them. It had made moving out all the easier. He had put it off for a long time, mainly because of his father's failing health. But his line of work meant he had ungodly working hours, and he suspected those didn't help improve his father's condition.

Living alone had its perks, too. Apart from the absence of one little shirt-stealing munchkin, and coming and going whenever he pleased, it also meant he finally was free to sing in the shower. As loud as he liked.

Domovoi turned on the shower, the warm water running down his back when inspiration hit him. He hummed the first notes.

"Unbreak my heart," he sang, his bass voice bouncing off the tiled walls. "Say you'll love me again."

Despite the sad song, Domovoi felt the day was off to a good start. How couldn't it with him hitting all the right notes? He lathered his body with the earthy shower gel, turning the water to cold for the last ten seconds, when the smell of freshly brewed coffee came wafting into the bathroom. 

Stepping out of the shower, he finished the last lines of the song, too.

"I cried so many, many nights. Oh, unbreak my–"

"Heart. Say you love me again," a muffled voice sang on the other side of the wall.

Domovoi froze, turning to the wall, and listening to how someone else finished his song. He cursed, fleeing the crime scene. How had he never noticed how thin the walls were?!

He got dressed, deluding himself. Maybe, possibly, whoever was on the other side had thought of the same song like him today?

He paced his kitchen, breakfast forgotten, but finally decided that he had to find out the truth. So, he waited – like a freaking criminal! – at the peephole, until he heard his neighbour's door open, and a woman in a knee-length green dress stepped into view.

Crossing his fingers, he ripped open the door.

"Hi, neighbour," he said as nonchalantly as he could.

The woman turned around, brushing a strand of wild hair behind her ear.

"Say," Domovoi said, rubbing his neck. "The walls are pretty thin, aren't they?"

She lifted her eyebrows. "A little, yes."

"So... have you... I don't know, heard anything out of the usual recently?"

She thought about it, but shook her head. "No. Nothing unusual."

Domovoi let out a sigh.

"Unless you mean that guy, singing to ‘unbreak his heart, and to say they love him again’."

She giggled. Domovoi closed his eyes, heat creeping up his neck. 

"You heard me, huh?"

"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me," she said with a grin, crossing her heart.

"That's what they all say before the torture," he said with a lazy smile, leaning against his doorframe.

"Domovoi. Dom for short," he said, extending his hand. His neighbour shook it warmly.

"Sofia. Just Sofia. I gotta run, but,"—her eyes sparkled mischievously—”I really appreciate the song recommendations lately."

Domovoi chuckled, releasing her hand. He watched as she left, her dress swishing alluringly around her shapely legs.

"You want to go out for dinner someday?" he called out before his bravado left him.

Sofia stopped at the door to the stairwell and laughed. 

"Are you asking, because you checked me out, or because you want to buy my silence?"

"Exactly. Where do you want to go?"

"Anam Cara. Pick me up at 8."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said, punching the air in triumph and thanking whoever made the walls so thin.

Okay, I might reveal just how old I am, but the song in question is this one: 

Tony Braxton - Un-break My Heart

[weeinterpreter]

terrace.

Butler had finished setting the table for the Fowl's breakfast on the terrace, the Irish sun mocking him with its sheer brightness. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out the folded newspaper cut-out.

Dr Sofia Massetti

*25.05.1969        †10.08.2003

Forever missing our loved daughter and sister.

The paper had faded, soft from the times he had folded and unfolded it. Sofia beamed up at him from the grainy picture. Happy, full of confidence in him. Full of life. 

"If something happened to me, would you be sad?" she had asked over the phone a lifetime ago.

Butler had sighed. "Don't be so morbid."

"But would you?"

"I wouldn't go so far," he had answered. Like a liar.

She had known, hadn't she? She must have known the truth. Clenching his jaw, Butler pushed the piece of paper back into his breast pocket, and stepped back inside. He was supposed to make coffee now, so it was ready by the time the Fowls started their breakfast. Instead of going into the kitchen, though, he locked himself in his bedroom.

He opened the folder on his desk, touching every single document like a charm. If it hadn't been for Sid Commons going to New York himself, the process would have been much slower. Not any more successful, but Butler was grateful regardless.

He read the note his friend had enclosed:

I don't know, man. It's a mystery. One minute all is fine, the next she collapses, unresponsive. No underlying health issues, allergies, nada. If I didn't know better, I'd say she was poisoned by fairies. Sorry.

Sid.

He made himself go through the reports once more. Pretending he hadn't seen them a thousand times already. If he deciphered every single word anew, the truth had to jump right at him at some point. Maybe then he'd be able to make up for not being with her in her last moments. Leaving her all alone, with no one to take away the fear, the confusion, the pain.

He scanned the pitch-black letters etched on the paper until he was convinced he could hear her carefree laughter one last time. Smell the peaches on her skin. Feel her fingers against his cheek.

Butler buried his face in his hand, his breath hitching in his throat.

His pager vibrated. Reluctantly, he stood, readjusting his mask of aloof professionalism. By the time he reached Artemis's study, he was fooling the whole world again. He waited for the boy behind the laptop to finish his work.

"We will leave for Cuba tomorrow, old friend," Artemis said, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "A new adventure. I have already texted Holly and Mulch. It'll be just like in the old days."

The old days...? Butler wondered, not for the first time, if...

"It was you, wasn't it?"

The boy's smile dropped, the glow from the laptop casting a waxy hue on his face. He didn't answer. Butler curled his trembling hands into fists.

"I'm sorry, old friend, but she had become a liability," Artemis said, turning back to his laptop. "Now, if you don't mind, Earl Grey, please."

Butler could only stare at the Irish boy. He had ripped Sofia from his life as casually as an old bandaid from a healed wound. Just like that.

And there was nothing Butler could ever do about it. The realisation hit him like a punch in the gut.  

Suddenly, there wasn't enough air to breathe. He swayed, black spots dancing in front of his eyes.

Butler stumbled out of the study and down the corridor, his ears ringing with the distant sound of rattling chains.

[weeinterpreter]

dad.

Once upon a time, there was an overworked bodyguard, who had to protect a teenage charge, but soon found himself in the role of surrogate father and voice of reason as well. Not only was his charge of exceptional intelligence, he was also extremely jealous. So, when the bodyguard met an Italian university professor, he failed to hide his feelings from his charge.

Fearing to be left alone forever, Artemis devised a devious plan to keep Butler all for himself. He drugged his bodyguard, leaving him in a deathlike sleep, while he gave the professor, Sofia Massetti impossible tasks to master.

"First," he said with a smug grin, when he turned up in front of her door, "you need to successfully complete my course on Quantum Physics. Once you have finished, you'll have to learn a programming language that I have invented."

Sofia snorted. "Is that all?"

Artemis smirked. "No, my last task,"–he handed her a stack of papers–"is to read my papers on child development. If you complete all the tasks, which you won't, you'll find the clues about where my bodyguard is kept. You won't, though, so you might as well give up now. Best of luck!"

Sofia Massetti went to work, studying Quantum Physics until her dreams were filled with equations and little pale boys cackling at her for not being able to crack the code. She learned the programming language until

//life

while (no success)

{

tryAgain ();

}

if (code faulty ()) === true {

sad.cry.();

}

She persevered and fought her way through all of Artemis's papers. And when she had almost given up on ever finishing, she finally put the clues together. Her journey ended at a cryogenic institute in London, where the employees led her to a single room, locked with a keypad.

She typed in the code and the door swung open, revealing a single bed, one giant man lying in it. Walking over to the IV that kept Butler subdued, she disconnected it. And waited.

Half an hour later, Butler came out of it.

"I don't feel so good," he murmured.

"A yearlong barbiturate-induced coma usually has that effect on people," Sofia commented dryly. If Butler had been in control of his powers, he would have shouted, "A year?!"

Instead, it came out as a slur.

"I would have been faster, but Artemis's ridiculous tasks really were a pain in the backside," she said, recalling how she had spent the last year.

Moved to tears, Butler studied the deep dark circles under her eyes. "You love me that much?"

"Of course." Sofia grinned. "Also, by the time I finished the Quantum Physics course, I was invested in seeing it to the end."

Butler lifted an eyebrow. "Cheers."

Giggling, she punched him playfully on the arm. She stopped when Artemis entered the room, and kept in one corner, his face in the shadows.

"I guess, you'll be leaving me now, old friend?"

Butler shot Sofia a look, who shrugged. Clearing his throat, Butler slowly sat up, turning to the loneliest boy in the world.

"Artemis... why don't you call me 'Dad'?"

Artemis was speechless for once in his life. It took him a full minute to bring his facial features under control again. Eventually, he shrugged. "Fine, but I won't call her 'Mom'."

Sofia rolled her eyes. "And they lived happily ever after."  

[weeinterpreter]

chalice.

Sir Domovoi to the dark forest of Brocéliande came.

His long voyage

Of 410 days brought him back

To his intended bride,

Lady Sofia.

As indeed,

An evil wizard had trapped her in a high tower.

Thus, the brave knight had vowed

To travel the land to free

His fair maiden with the wild curls.

His arduous journey had brought him from

The North and its high mountains

To the South with its crystal blue seas,

And from the West with its lush meadows,

To the East and its prosperous deserts.

He had bested

Foul beasts,

Beguiling witches,

Wicked elves,

And won the Chalice of Truth.

Now,

Finally stopping at the dark tower of Brocéliande,

He braced himself

For the hardest combat.

Unaware, however,

Was he of the immense courage of his beloved.

Single-handedly

Had she defeated the evil wizard.

Baffled was he,

Breaking the sigil at the tower's entrance,

Seeing the sorcerer's lifeless (and rather mangled) body.

But oh, how he rejoiced

At the sight of the sweet vision that presented itself,

Once he had climbed the steep steps to the top.

Sir Domovoi dropped to one knee, laying his sword to her feet.

"Oh fair one, behold your humble servant, Sir Domovoi. I have bested foul beasts, beguiling witches, and wicked elves to prove myself worthy of you."

Lady Sofia carefully placed her stitch work on the table next to her.

"And have you?" she asked quietly.

Sir Domovoi blinked. "Have I–"

"Proven yourself worthy of me?"

Frowning, Sir Domovoi opened his satchel and pulled out a golden chalice. "I retrieved the Chalice of Truth for you."

Lady Sofia pursed her lips. "Did you notice the evil wizard at the bottom of the stairs?"

"I... did."

"I killed him. With my embroidery hoop and needle."

The knight's eyebrows shot up. "You... did?"

"Indeed, I did," she said with a sour expression. "You know when? Two weeks after you left. So for the last one year, one month and three days, I have been sitting here, idle."

She jumped up, pacing up and down in the small chamber. "Idle! Because the door was sealed and could only be opened by you!"

Sir Domovoi slowly stood, watching his damsel talking herself in a rage. He had fought many battles. Never had he encountered an angry maiden. Usually they tried to lure him into their bedchamber. The current situation was new to him, and he didn't know what was expected of him.

"Are you upset?" he asked tentatively.

"Upset? Upset?! Yes, I am upset!" she exploded. She rushed over, punching his armour in anger, yelping when her hand connected with the solid metal. Weakly, Sir Domovoi lifted a hand. But Lady Sofia wasn't quite done yet.

"I have been stuck in this tower for a year, a month and 15 days,” she said through gritted teeth, “while all you needed to do was stand by for a short time! No, the honourable Sir Domovoi needs to fight beguiling elves, wicked beasts, and foul witches."

"It was actually–" the knight errant began, but closed his mouth at the dark look she shot him. "I... apologise?"

Lady Sofia rubbed her hand, crinkling her nose. "Do you think that is what I want to hear but are not sure why I am upset?"

The knight nodded helplessly.

"Would you, maybe, like a warm embrace?" he asked. He had heard that fair maidens liked that sort of thing. Lady Sofia shrugged and allowed him to wrap his arms around her. She shifted in his embrace. And shifted some more. Eventually, she sighed.

"You armour is too hard."

"My squires are only a half-day's ride away. They are the fastest in the realm,” the knight said. “By sundown I would gladly offer a sweeter, tenderer embrace."

Lady Sofia took a long breath. "I assume you want to take me to your castle now?"

The knight thought hard of the right words to say. "If that is what my Lady wishes."

"What about you being a knight errant?"

"No more," Sir Domovoi said, and shook his head. Then he paused. "What about fighting off intruders from my castle?"

"Will that involve you crusading the Seven Seas to meet a Blue, Green, or Red Knight?" she asked suspiciously.

"Would you want to come along in such a case?" Sir Domovoi asked, his heart jumping with joy at the smile that bloomed on his Lady's face.

"That, my dear Sir,

Might just work out fine,"

She spoke, clasping his hand,

The two of them leaving

The dark forest of Brocéliande.

[weeinterpreter]

AHHHHH I FREAKING LOVE BUTLERS FAM 😭 Frederico is just the sweetest- I just can’t. That’s it. 🐣Cottagecore Butler🌻 is my new obsession. living on a little farm and waking up every morning feeding chickens and stuff🥺 it’s beautiful. Oh, and can’t wait to see what happens next in the DB&CG series!

You have no idea how happy I am that you liked the little snippet! Seriously, I am over the moon, AND I have to thank you for putting that idea for Frederico in my head. I am absolutely in love with that adorable, mischievous little rascal (and I really want Butler to “make” him 🤣).

I am convinced that Butler yearns to have a totally "mundane" and quiet life (with Sofia), and he'd be the best dad... if Artemis would let him settle down.

Also, the abbreviation is so cool, you are the first person to use it!

[weeinterpreter]

Guys, it's finally happening! Part 5 of Diamond Blue and Cinnamon Gold is hitting your virtual bookshelves in less than 48 hours on your local fanfiction websites!

If you want to get up to date, where the story was left off, now is the time. I'm so excited (and relieved that I finally got around to finish the story!) and I hope you are too!

There will be action, fluff, humour and baby Artemis! 🤩

[weeinterpreter]

sunset.

[Part 1] [Part 2]

Detective Sergeant Domovoi Butler grinned and slapped the handcuffs around the stout man’s hands.

“They haven’t changed your cell, Mr Diggums. I’m sure you’ll appreciate that.”

Mulch Diggums, better known under his nickname “The Dwarf”, wasn’t too worried.

“I am not going to prison, DS Butler.”

Dom snorted. “Oh yes? And why is that?”

“Because right now,” an icy voice behind him said, “I am pointing a pistol at your head.”

Grabbing Mulch Diggums by the collar, Dom whirled around. He held the short man in front of him, which did little to shield him from the attacker as Diggums didn’t even reach his chest.

Dom stared his opponent in the eyes, ignoring the gun barrel that was aimed at his face.

“Impossible,” he murmured. “I saw your corpse.”

“Did you? Or did you see what I wanted you to see, DS Butler?”

“Give it up, Fowl,” Dom said, shaking off his initial shock, and tightening his grip on Diggums. “You have nowhere to run. We have seized all your assets, hideouts, accomplices.”

Artemis lifted an eyebrow. “Tough words. Wouldn’t you rather spend the time with your girlfriend? The lovely professor has been waiting all evening for you.”

Dom paled.

“What have you done?”

“Me? Nothing,” Artemis said, a sardonic smile playing around his lips. “Or have I?”

“If you hu-” Dom growled, but Artemis interrupted him with a mocking laugh.

“Looks like you’ll have to choose between your career or,” he scoffed, “love.”

He lifted his arm to check his watch. “I’d say you have about twenty minutes, before your girl is going for a swim, DS Butler. Dublin Bay’s water temperature is supposedly very pleasant around this time of the year.”

“Where is she?” Dom asked through gritted teeth.

“Quid pro quo. The keys for the location.”

Dom curled his hands into fists. He could probably squeeze out the information from the sleezy bastard, but would he be able to beat up Fowl and get to Sofia in time?

Clenching his jaw, he threw the keys at the criminal who caught them with a smile.

“Realt na Mara. Do you know the spot or shall I draw you a map?”

Dom took off running, leaving Artemis Fowl to free his second-in-command.

[weeinterpreter]

Me, as I mess with Butler's and Sofia's emotions.