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500 calories

Summary:

Based off this conversation I had on tumblr
https://reaperion.tumblr.com/post/659078096265363456/also-consider-following-the-time-tunnel-stuff-he
I was intrigued by how Atlantis complex would effect his diet.

(Blurb and title are a work in progress this is the first fic I’ve posted on AO3)

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Chapter Text

Thursday, 12:23 PM: St, Bartleby’s school for young boys.

Artemis Fowl the second sat glaring at the plate before him. The server who was dishing out the mandated meals refused to give him a calorie count, nutritional information, or an ingredient list. At first, she claimed to not know, but Artemis debunked that very quickly, as he watched her unbox the sub-par prepackaged meals the principal insisted on feeding the students. When she then said that she was not permitted to disclose it to students, Artemis brought up that she also wasn’t allowed to make love to the gardener in the sheds behind the gymnasium after school hours. That was apparently the wrong call as she then threatened to call the school counsellor, Dr Po. Artemis would’ve responded with a threat of his own if he had not then been yelled at by a staff monitor to “quit holding up the line and sit down”

So here he was, pushing food around his plate to make it look like he’d eaten. He’d always been sensitive to food and never had much of an appetite, so it wasn’t too suspicious if he hadn’t finished off his plate, but this couldn’t be a daily occurrence. Not only would he starve, but when people caught on they’d assume he was anorexic and force him to eat. Then he’d have no control.

He mentally compiled a list of options and started checking them off one by one. He could attempt cooking himself; no, not only did the dorms not have kitchens but the last time Artemis fowl tried to cook he set fire to the stove. Skip mandatory cafeteria food and go to a cafe’? Private businesses were legally required to provide nutritional information so he could make sure the numbers would align. Yes, that makes sense.
That routine worked, everyday he’d shuffle food around his plate, and then sneak off to whatever local cafe suited his tastes for that day instead of attending 4th period. Win-win situation.

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Monday, 2:32 pm, St. Bartleby's school for young boys.

“You’ve been skipping fourth period every day for a month now”

“And?”

In hindsight, he should have realised this would happen. Possibly it was the sleep deprivation, or the distractions that seemed to be popping up in his mind, things he’d done, mistakes he’d made, circling like vultures, preying on his thoughts until they were the only things left. But he had been making more careless mistakes recently, schemes and ideas that weren’t entirely thought out.

“Why?”

He now sat in Dr Po’s office, experiencing the consequences of his own Mistake. He had run the calculations but failed to account for a variable. And as such, the results were not what he had planned for.
“Well, it’s not as if I need that class anyways. I already have a doctorate in particle physics, why take a high school level class?”

“In all honesty, you don’t need to take any of these classes, you’re more knowledgeable than the teachers in most subjects. But you’re only skipping one class, and only for the last month.”

The annoying thing about Dr Po, he actually cared about his pupils, which is good in most cases but not for Artemis, who was trying to distance himself from all of this, he was intelligent, and he was infuriatingly persistent. If Artemis was still the child he had been when he met Holly, there would have been a … less than legal… route taken to dispose of the good doctor. But with his newfound morals, he needed to refrain from breaking the man's mind.

“The only reason I take any of these classes is because my mother wishes it of me.”

“I’m just concerned-“

“You needn’t be” Artemis cut in harshly.

Dr Po continues with a sigh

“-We also have reported that you’ve been asking for the number of calories and ingredients in the school lunches”

“You think I have an eating disorder?” Artemis responded cooly, an amused smirk on his face

“Well you can’t say it isn’t suspicious, I’ve had multiple patients with eating disorders and it matches up. You count the calories, you hardly eat anything on your plate, then you skip the next period. Possibly to… purge?”

Artemis rolled his eyes at the comment.

“That’s ridiculous; I hardly eat anything on my plate because I have sensory issues and I’ve just never had a large appetite, I asked for an ingredient list so I could make sure it wouldn’t contain any ingredients I am unwilling to eat. I intercepted a staff email mentioning the possibility of a menu change approximately a month ago. I skip 4th period because, not only is it useless, it’s also infernally boring. The good Professor James won’t allow me to read in class.”

Doctor Po was silent so Artemis continued

“I understand why you would come to that conclusion, I’m pale, I’m thin, I don’t eat much and what I do eat isn’t very nutritious, I asked for a calorie count and I disappear briefly after meals. However, You are also subconsciously looking for issues. It’s your job. The thing is, there are no issues here to be found. There are signs, yes. But they aren’t pointing in the direction that you think.”

There was a pause as Dr Po took in what Artemis had said.

“Well- if you’re sure you’re alright, you can go. But remember my door is always open if you have any issues. I would like to talk about those sensory issues you mentioned though. I might be able to get the principal to provide accommodations if you’re willing to meet up.”

Artemis stood slowly from his chair

“Possibly, but that’s not a promise.”

He started walking to the door before stopping in his tracks.
“And doctor, we both know if there was something wrong, I could handle it myself.”

With that, he turned on his heel and left the room.
“Why though ?” Artemis heard him mumble as he shut the door behind himself.

Taking a breath, he walked down the corridor and tried to ignore the thoughts telling him to count the doors he passed.

Maybe he would take him up on accommodations, but he doubted those accommodations would include calorie counts. And that’s what he was currently concerned about.

He passed the secretary who made no move to acknowledge his presence and made his way to the dormitories.

St. Bartlebys was an old school in an old building, but recently the administration had raised some money and renovated both the student and teacher commons. The walls were now a pale yellow, with old fashioned (yet obviously newly manufactured) lamps spaced about three feet apart giving off a slightly orange light to contrast and calm the fluorescent white light embedded in the ceiling. There were wooden tables and chairs, and two grey patterned couches. Plenty of charger ports had been added for laptops and phones, and some fake plants had been added to give the room some life.

Overall they hadn’t done a bad job decorating the space, but Artemis would rather be caught dead than admitting that out loud.
Artemis walked straight through the chamber and down the hall despite the tasteful interior design, ignoring everyone in his path. Stopping at room 93 and pulling out the keycard and a ring of traditional keys. He entered his room and made sure the automatic lock closed before manually locking the other four locks on his door.
That’s five in total, good.

He dropped his bag to the floor and flopped onto the bed in the middle of the room, sloppily wrapping a yellow plush blanket Holly bought around himself before letting his mind wander

This would be more difficult to uphold once winter break hit. His parents had never really cared unless his life was in immediate danger so they wouldn’t be an issue. Bulter on the other hand… Butler was inconveniently persistent when it came to him eating, bringing him meals in his study when he was too busy working on one thing or another to come down to the dining hall, making sure the different components of dishes didn’t touch each other on the plate. And even on some occasions, when Artemis had become so engrossed in a project that things like eating and sleeping seemed secondary, he sat in the corner of the room and refused to leave until his charge had received sufficient nutritional intake.

He stood with a sigh, walking to his desk, blanket still around his shoulders. He could think of a solution to that later, he had blueprints to design. His predicament could wait until after he solved global warming.
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Monday, 4:45, St. Bartelbys school for young boys.

His phone rang, chiming to a preset tune he hadn’t bothered to change. It was his alarm for dinner, he ignored it. the weight of the world was on his shoulders, humanities mistakes had doomed the planet he and his friends called home, food could wait until he had finished just this paragraph.
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