Author's Notes: Oh my gosh! Reona-chan's updating quicker than normal! It's the apocalypse, everyone run!

WAIT, NO, I DIDN'T MEAN IT! READ THIS FIRST!

Hehe. Enjoy.

Oh, er, before I forget.. this is basically a series of one-shots, yeah. They're inter-related, somehow, like if you don't read a certain chapter, you wouldn't understand the next.

Sorry if they are out-of-character. I have only read the first and seventh books in the series. –sheepish smile-

Disclaimer: objectionplz.

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Moi and Kyugima: Thank you for the compliment. Kyahaha. I'm going to start on a Death Note one soon.. just in case you're interested. –grins- I dunno how I write like.. this, I suppose. I just do. :P

Opal Roseblossom: I feel your pain. I browse random things overnight, too. :D Thank you muchly for the compliment. I feel so loved right now. Lawlz.

Song Of Eternity: Thank you! Here's your wish: a nice, fresh update, straight from the.. oven?

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The Seven Deadly Sins

E N V Y

Freedom – what was freedom?

There was, of course, the general definition in a dictionary – but what was it? How could you characterize such a term, without having felt it yourself?

Freedom.

Could I be free?

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Artemis stared out the window.

Glassy, cerulean optics stared at the outside world; a hand only briefly resting upon his chin as he continued to look towards the place he would never be able to bring himself to step into. Lips were pursed as he shifted position, attempting to sit like a normal teenager and failing – ending up sitting in his regular, slightly stiff manner. A slight sigh, a small huff of frustration, and Artemis had ended up on the ground.

For such a situation to make sense, perhaps you would have to turn back time or something of the sort – and find out what happened to cause the male to act this way.

It all started with his report card.

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Now, if you knew Artemis Fowl the Second (which I am sure you do, since he is, after all, our little protagonist), you would suspect his report cards to be perfect, flawless – filled with A pluses and one-hundred percents. That assumption is true, he would have gotten those grades, those high-standard marks that most children would kill to obtain –

- if his report card came in the first place.

Unfortunately, Artemis had not the time to print a false one, and thus on the supposed 'day' of him receiving his report card, he came up with nothing. Nada. Poof.

And, his mother would not leave him alone until he would either show it to her (which he honestly and truly preferred), or come clean (which he did not do, for if you knew Artemis Fowl well, then he was not a quitter).

Juliet, in her excitement (she had fallen for Artemis's little magic trick, and had also been under the presumption that he was indeed going to Saint Bartleby's), had ripped open the envelope before Artemis got to put his little pawn in it; and thus revealed a lie the boy had been putting up for the longest time.

And that; was what earned him a little time on his own, all the way up in his room.

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"Butler."

Artemis's tone was stern, professional; the boy was trying his very best not to have any sort of emotion in it. Sad, really, how he was slowly falling in and out of love with his bodyguard, especially since said bodyguard would most likely not have any interest in him at all. Of course, besides the ones he was designated to have.

Almost instantly, the Eurasian man was at his side, having forgotten to dispose of a utensil he was using not too long ago; the knife still having cake frosting on it. No doubt, he was cutting a slice for the genius's afternoon snack – which he always prepared with the greatest care. Despite the slight miscalculation, Artemis would always get his little treats, for the boy knew that nothing, not even his mother, would stand in Butler's way.

"Yes, Master Artemis?"

Artemis's imagination went a little overboard at the word that came before the name, and he sighed; looking out the window once more. What had he called Butler for, anyway? Perhaps it was another one of those stages that adolescent boys went through, perhaps it was just another sick trick his mind somehow loved to play on him; perhaps it was the thing he feared the most.

Dark blue eyes, blinked at the lack of response, and Butler walked silently towards his charge, placing a large hand on his shoulder.

"Are you displeased with the order your mother placed on you?"

The adolescent turned his head, looking up at the other man; lips curving up into what one could only distinguish as a small smile – perhaps a mocking one, but a smile nonetheless; and he coughed. Artemis gestured almost lamely at the chair across from him, and swallowed. Talk about it now, idiot! screamed his conscience, whacking him with a baseball bat of sorts. You may not get another chance, you know? Butler's got other things to do than tend to your every need!

The prodigy almost winced, though managed to regain his composure, only letting his gaze rest on Butler's lean form; sitting on the chair, back straightened in some sort of polite posture, hands on his lap; knife on the table in-between (indeed, Artemis's room was well-furnished, for the boy could spend days in there up to no end). Artemis swallowed the ball of lead in his throat, and sighed.

Is he going to accept me?

Will I really be freed?

These questions swarmed his mind, causing him to get dizzy and yet feel butterflies in his stomach all at the same time – of confusion, of discomfort; of love.

Artemis had to accept it. Like everything else.

"Accept it, boy! Your father is gone!"

"You got a ninety-nine percent in your Math homework."

"Why did you change, Artemis?!"

"Artemis, what did you do?"

Artemis this, Artemis that. He was practically the person that held all the grief, all the sorrow, all because they had perceived him to be a prideful boy. But he changed, really, he changed! Lips pursed, the boy sighed, giving in to his vulnerabilities, his discomfort – his sensations and dreams.

"Butler, I.. I'm.."

Artemis warily stared out the window, seeing a flock of birds flying; free, not a care in the world. The boy would have cursed them, seeing them able to enjoy life as is without worrying anything – though he would never bring himself to say that he envied them. No, he was not jealous of some brainless animal. He had self-worth. He was special. He was –

- once more falling into the lie that pride molded him to be.

It was envy, he told himself, envy. He was jealous of those who were free, who had no legacy to uphold, who had everything and nothing to live for. Artemis, he was the man of the family now. He lived just for bringing some money home. He lived to keep other people living. He lived a life with no sense.

Envy.

Funny, how it hadn't changed him.

Delving much too long into his thoughts, Butler had made a motion to stand; seeing as the boy with which had addressed him so formally needed more time to think.

"Butler, wait!"

The bodyguard turned his head, staring at the adolescent with a small quirk of the eyebrow; still confused as to what it was Artemis was to imply. The boy felt his throat turn dry, and he turned his head to the window; looking for help, something of the sort, before sighing.

He was locked up in this room, locked in his thoughts – and there would be no salvation. Nobody would save him. Not even Butler; for the bodyguard could not know.

Artemis gave a small wave of the hand, feeling his heart grow heavy in his chest; constricting, causing him to have difficulty breathing. It always hurt, to lie to Butler, to not be able to share how you felt with the person you cared for most, but it would have to do. He would be left alone, should he come clean, and he would have nothing.

With a small nod, and a soft 'take care of yourself', Butler walked out of the room, leaving Artemis to his reverie; his thoughts, his delusional mind-exercises that drove him insane and got him smarter at the same time.

Outside, a crow cawed.

And inside; therein sat a porcelain doll, trapped in a lonely abyss and never to return – envying a flock of birds that mocked him constantly.

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Author's Notes: I am not very pleased with how this turned out. –sigh- I think I half-assed on this one. I do hope it is still presentable, however.