𝔥𝔦𝔯𝔞𝔢𝔱𝔥

Welcome to my secret hiraeth

: ̗̀➛ hiraeth : a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was.

Being passionate about arts and literature since I was young, I unfortunately didn’t pursue it into a career. Coming from an immigrant family doesn’t leave room for anything that can’t guarantee you a stable life in the future, and even if I’m very interested by my chosen field of study, my heart always longs for books, for writing, for conveying emotions through images and words. That’s how this page was born.

So hello everyone, I’m N., I go by the pronouns she-her and I’m 22 now, on my last year of studies in International Relations. I’m currently living in the french countryside - born and raised in the same region - but I aim to live one day in big cities, with a preference for Paris.

I have many interests but as said earlier, I have a deep love for books and literature since I was a child, I even learned to read alone at four with those toy-computers that teach you the alphabet (mine was a pink and white hello kitty one, it was so so pretty!).

I write for myself first and foremost, but if some people are interested in my universe, you’re most welcome - and I love to discuss things with people so don’t hesitate to interact with my posts ✨

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My master list (regularly updated)

: ̗̀➛ COD x The Three Musketeers AU (with a female princess self-insert reader) :

The blurb that started it all

Introduction of the other musketeers

A scheme against the princess?

All works belong to me. I don’t use generative AI in any part of my writing process. I don’t tolerate stealing, plagiarizing, or feeding my work into AI whatever you want to do with it. For translations, please send me a DM beforehand, or else I’ll consider it stealing.

Every piece of media that I consumed about the Three Musketeers, and my opinion about them.

: ̗̀➛ As a huge fan of this universe, I’ve consumed a lot of pieces of media about the Three Musketeers in my life, and about the XVIIIth century in general, and I felt like talking about it in this silly post — my obsession came back with strength this summer, isn’t this page dedicated to them in the end ?

: ̗̀➛ Also keep in mind that I’m French born and raised, and most of these are what forged my childhood, so they’re French too. But if you speak or learn this language, I can’t recommend you them enough ! (also I’m sure that if a French audience sees this post, you’ll know about them).

Barbie and the Three Musketeers : I fear it’s the blueprint, I’ve watched Barbie and knew all the movies before I knew how to read, and all the feminists implications in this one in particular made me the feminist I am today.

La Rose Écarlate, by Patricia Lyfoung : may she rest in peace, she was one of the first french cartoonist to work with a manga infuence in her drawings. She also worked on the cartoons Totally Spies and Martin Mystère (idk the translation of this title), and you recognize her iconic style in the comic La Rose Écarlate.

La Rose Écarlate tells the story of Maud, a young girl that discovers at her father’s passing that she is of noble descent. Except that she despises this social universe, and admires The Fox, an unknown masked man who steals from nobles to give to commoners. And she’s determined to follow his path, becoming her own version and making herself known as La Rose Écarlate ("the crimson rose").

In this comic, Patricia Lyfoung mixed the Tales of Robin Hood and the universe of the XVIIIth century, and there’s so much new adventures ! Every little girl that went in a public library of some sort has read them (and Lou too, but it’s a total different story), and I’m no exception. I’m in love with this period, the beautiful weapons and foils, and the dresses and all. And I truly think this comic contributed to it a lot. Again, may she rest in peace, as she forged the childhood of my generation.

The Three Musketeers, the musical from 2016 : When I watched a show for the first time ever, it was this one, let me tell you how transcending this experience was. I discovered it when the most popular songs were broadcasted all day long on national TV, and then I begged my mom to buy me tickets for my birthday (it was three months earlier but I didn’t ask for anything else). And guessed who had the luck to see them when they came in my city? It was amazing, it’s a dear memory I share with my mom as it was our first show we both saw ever — I used to call it my first concert. If you want to (re)discover it, here are :

The musical

The album playlist

NB : I can’t talk enough about how Olivier Dion is SO HANDSOME in his interpretation of d’Artagnan, maybe a bit older than his age in the novel but he’s so sexy I forgive him.

The Three Musketeers, the movie with François Civil (2023) : again, another piece of media that I watched with my parents and with a d’Artagnan a bit older than his real age, but it was really good ! As it’s been seven years between the musical and this movie, I haven’t consumed a lot of things related to the Three Musketeers in between — I discovered anime and kpop in the meantime — it was a pleasure to rediscover the story with the movie. I don’t remember much, but I know that I’ve spent a good time and I liked the cast (I still prefer Olivier Dion than François Civil but it’s just my personal taste, and I still need to watch the second movie). I don’t feel like it struck me as much as the musical, but it’s still a good adaptation.

Dumas’ story : how can I write this post without talking about my current read ! I found the book in a secondhand bookstore and the cover is the poster of the 2023 movie, I love this detail.

I have the luck of speaking French so I can read it in its original form, with words chosen by the author himself, and let me tell you how much of a good time I’m having : it’s funny, the author is a bit witty but it’s my favorite detail about his narration, the chapters are short and written as a way to keep the reader hooked on each end, it’s a real page turned and the language level is really easy for a classic (every romantic author of the XIXth century is my go-to to start classics because of this detail).

COD x The Three Musketeers AU : a scheme against the princess ?

: ̗̀➛ honestly, this wasn’t the scene I wanted to write right after the duel, but @mikibaddieelwin hyped me so much ! By the way tysm again for your heartwarming comments 🫶🏼🫶🏼

: ̗̀➛ here’s my master list, regularly updated, if you want to check what else I wrote ! Also I changed the tense of my story, it’s much easier to write in the past - and also more logical.

“Hey! All of you! In my office!”

Simon and Johnny immediately stopped their quarrel, hearing M. Price’s authoritative tone resonate in the courtyard. Courtiers resumed their most famous activity : acting scandalized and gossiping, hushed voices and gasps filling the tense silence this call made.

Both of the opponents walked to M. Price’s office, Kyle following behind. He was the only one not worried about the situation, and if Johnny could remove his proud expression off his face, he would draw his foil again in an instant.

“Arrogance is a sin, I don’t think the Lord would appreciate that cocky smirk adoring your lips.” He couldn’t resist a little sarcasm, having enough of his mock-wisdom shoved in their faces at every occasion. Kyle always somehow needed to prove his moral superiority over the other musketeers, and God knows how Johnny hated this side of him. However, his anger quickly dissolved once the trio arrived in front of M. Price’s door.

“Women and children first” declared Johnny while turning to Simon.

- We’re the same age, you bollock. And this expression means to save women and children first, not throw them in the pit of Hell first.

- I’m two months older, I still get to decide.”

Simon rolled his eyes again and opened the door, but as soon as the young men looked into their Captain’s eyes, all their bravado disappeared instantly. M. Price was sitting on his desk, the window behind him adding to the authority emanating from him. More than their captain, M. Price formed their team, he was their mentor, the closest from a father figure the young men had. Especially for Simon, whose father was the epitome of cruelty during his whole life. And right now, not even the cloth on his face could hide how sheepish he looked in front of him. Of an average height, M. Price carried an aura, something that made everyone around him, even his fiercest enemies, bow in respect. After M. de Tréville’s passing, he was nominated among a long list of His Majesty’s favorite soldiers to reform and created a new body of musketeers. Himself has selected three among the hundreds of gentlemen having followed their courses at the Royal Academy. He chose Simon for his frightening discretion and his efficiency, Johnny for his strength and his unpredictable style, and Kyle for his finesse and precision in each hit. His icy-blue eyes only softened for his boys, but right now, instead of the expected anger, all they could see was disappointment. The Captain got up and paced in front of them.

“What was that nonsense about? Why am I seeing my musketeers quarreling in public? Against one another?”

Simon knew better than to argue with the Captain. As he thought about it, he realized what picture they gave of themselves : brothers in arms who seemed divided, antagonists, when they should look united against adversity.

“Do you know that the Cardinal Graves created his own body of musketeers? That the king allowed it? That we might as well disappear if His Majesty deemed them great enough?” Only a stunned, guilty silence, served as an answer. “Of course you didn’t, or else you wouldn’t indulge yourself in such a pitiful scene in front of the courtiers! I can understand you have conflicts between one another, nobody can love everyone. However, if I see one more open fight like that again, I will dissolve this company myself! Understood?”

The three of them nodded, the gravity of the situation was enough for them to temporarily forget their own bickering. Price’s tone grew softer, seeing their eyes downcast.

“I need you to understand that it doesn’t please me in the slightest to give you sermons like this. I know you’re grown adults, but I’m well versed into the nobles’ schemes to know that even the wisest is at the total mercy of gossips. Give them a crumb of your weakness, and they will tore it apart like vultures, and your story won’t ever be yours again.”

The clap of his calloused hands made the young men startled, but it allowed M. Price to change subjects.

“Well, now that this is sorted, I need to talk to you about something : I’ve recieved a letter from the king, about his strange decree regarding the princess. From his most devoted spies, he might suspect a coup.

- A coup? Kyle repeated.

- We don’t know who is behind it, he continued while nodding, but Her Highness needs the utmost protection, especially at night.

- So we’re at the same point : fighting against an enemy we can’t identify?

- No, the goal here is to get closer to the Court, investigating, and as soon as we find solid evidence, we strike. I don’t know if the Cardinal’s aware of this scheme, but either way, our main goal is to prouve ourselves trustworthy in front of the king. I need you to be aware that I’m not M. de Tréville, and the king isn’t his father. We aren’t friends, the stakes aren’t the same, so don’t deceive me on this.”

Price drew his foil, and his protégés followed. The tips all met, and they raised them in unison.

COD x The Three Musketeers AU : Introduction of the other musketeers

: ̗̀➛ I finally got some inspiration to write about the rest of the group as well, as hinted in the first part ! Don’t hesitate to check where it all began : part 1

: ̗̀➛ also I realized that I’m writing about british characters in a french historical setting, but just bear with me : I was passionate about the musketeers as a kid and since they are an elite group of Louis XIII’s army, it seemed logical to try and write COD imagines around them - especially since I’m focusing on the Task Force first. Hope you still enjoy it !

Back at the casern, Simon feels the tension in his shoulder leave him as soon as he approaches the stables. The sound of his stallion's hooves, smells of leather and hay and other horses' droppings, the familiarity of the place never ceases to relax him somehow. As he gets down, a young squire approaches. When the young boy eagerly comes and handles his mount with care, Simon can't help but smirk slightly at him. The only hint of his expression remains in his eyes, as the musketeer always wear a black cloth that hides the lower-part of his face. Many rumors surrounded his choice, yet he didn't care enough to listen.

Once inside the building, the young man always slowed down his pace, admiring the luxurious hallway. A carpeted floor, mirrors around, thick dark blue wallpapers and mouldings in the ceiling, everything he never thought he'd ever see in his lifetime. Addressing a whispered prayer to late M. de Tréville, Simon makes the sign of the cross before going to the common room.

Many gentlemen are gathered inside, surrounding two other noblemen that Simon got accustomed to now : Johnny McTavish, a hot-blooded man in love with alcohol and enamoured with the idea of being admired by many women at once - the little hole next to the headboard of his bed know it all too well ; and Kyle Garrick, much less close to the sins of the flesh, this man lived with a sword in one hand and the Bible in the other. Yet what both had in common was an almost comical disdain for Simon, and weren't he the object of laughs, he would almost laugh with them.

Except no one ever heard him laugh.

"Ho, isn't it M. de Tréville's protégé over here !" Simon could recognize Johnny's honeyed tone even during Mardi Gras. "How was this first night next to the princess ? Have you ever heard that you didn't need that rifle if you wanted her to spread her legs for y-"

The point of his foil points immediately on Johnny's face. Simon's expression remains as neutral as the cloth could hide, yet his eyes burn with anger against the humiliation he's suffered. "Instead of making me the subject of your filthy jokes, how about you prove your worth ? In front of your infatuated audience ?"

"Are you challenging me to a duel ?"

Kyle, as his faith usually ordered him around, raises his hand between the two musketeers. "Gentlemen, let's not transform jabs into a whole fight, we're all servants of the Lord and you know His words-"

"I don't need your bloody sermon, Kyle!" Johnny throws his chair on the floor as he abruptly gets up, animosity visible miles away on his face. "Who are you to come into my company and play d'Artagnan in front of us ? At least he was a gentleman too, he needn't attract the pity of noblemen to get a future ! Who are you little squire ? Why don't you come back to your stables and clean my horse's shit instead of brag here with your sword? You want a duel? Then be a man and follow me outside !"

The courtyard is almost instantly filled with an electric atmosphere. The crowd forms a spontaneous circle around the fighters, and the duel begins with Johnny's first swing. More than a fight, it was a dance ; arms, legs, jumps, the cling of the foils, everything built this perfect symphony musketeers were known for. Fighting isn't only a matter of winning battles, it's their art, the sole purpose of their life. Johnny's way of fighting almost always looked like the decisive battle of a war : putting all his strength in every hit, yet he never seemed to lack some. Simon was much lighter, yet his strength resided in his unpredictabilty. He also was familiar with Johnny's style, because it's the one he got to get rid of if he actually wanted his chance in the Company. Holding his position well, Simon notices Johnny grows more and more tired, frustrated, and pays even less attention to his opponent's stance. And, finally, an opening next to his ribs. Simon swings his foil right on his side, and only provokes a thin slash. His shirt is ripped, and blood prickles the skin beneath it.

He won. Yet the crowd is silent as ever.

I love the irony of me studying about the historical context of The Three Musketeers to write a fanfiction about it, when the work itself is a giant fanfiction from the XVIIth and XVIIIth centuries - and also me posting on Tumblr meanwhile he published weekly in a newspaper.

I’m begging you, just read books.

: ̗̀➛ disclaimer : I’m not ordering anyone around, I wrote this text with my heart of a passionate of literature, and it’s a reminder for myself first and foremost. I post it here also because my love for Tumblr grew over the past two months, I’ve felt comfortable enough to write here before any other platform - it could fit better on Substack for example but I feel too intimidated to post there.

I have deleted Instagram and Tiktok because I'm politically vocal about my opinions, yet sometimes what happens in the world overwhelms me and I need a break from the waves of negative news around - let's be honest, seeing the world inclining towards fascism at an alarming speed can drive everybody mad. Yet yesterday I've come back on Instagram for an hour, to send messages with my friends, and I've read the most terrifying news I've read since a while : AI companies are buying old books in bulk and destroying them to train their LLMs, and we lose then every trace of these books.

As I read this, my eyes went wide with horror : we can't even imagine how much we're losing right now by the time I'm writing, and who knows which piece of our history and civilization are being erased from the general public ? Because here's the thing : AI companies are so devious that they buy books no one knows, to which the production is most totally over. Secondhand bookstores have notice random rises in orders, to which rumors link to this monstrosity of a book-burning. Not even Ray Bradbury could predict that Fahrenheit 451 would be happening less than a century after the publication of his book.

So this post is my way to blow the whistle about this : I'm begging you to stop using any form of generative AI, become curious again and read books. Whether you ask ChatGPT even for the most obscure information you can't seem to find on the first five pages of your browser search, whether you use Character.AI to entertain yourself, whether you watch any form of AI slop on your platforms, whether you can't seem to find one fanart conveying the exact idea you have in mind, I'm begging you to stop entirely. Not only because of the disastrous ecological consequences, not either because of the racially-targeted areas where those data centres are built, but at least if you care about art, you should boycott those companies entirely.

I won't talk here about the concepts of ecology, climate change and climate justice surrounding this technology, many before me have done it so well. What my heart is heavy with is the fact that we're losing one of the purest and most ancient form of human expression : the arts and humanities. What testimonies we have from the past aren't only the new technologies such as irrigation systems, tools to make clothes, houses and architecture, but also books, religious parchments, drawings, paintings, statues, clothes, fashion, music compositions, instruments, everything that the human species created and that AI is actively destroying now. How little we know about ancient civilizations are pieces of art, no matter which one it is. I repeat it : art is the purest and most ancient forms of expression that the humanity has, and we're activeley destroying it.

To come back about the books - because it's the one art I know and love the most : become curious, get out of those AI machines and those algorithms and read more. It's not about how many books you can read, it's about how much. Read a little everyday, and don't stick to that echo chambers that algorithms can create for you. Read diversly, read old, very old books, from unknown authors, visit those antique stores, those vintages stores, those thrift stores, your local bookstore, your local library. Read classics, dark romance, fantasy, mangas, read that dusty book in the back of the shelves, bearing the name of your old neighbor as an author. Collect books, save them from that fate. There's no such thing as "book overconsumption". Every book, whether it's a shakespearean masterpiece or a "Booktok book" (I despise that term but you know what I mean) carries a part of the period it has been published. Every book is a direct witness of the time and ages it has been published, don't pay attention to the elitist voices telling you which one is worthy of your time and which is not, just read. We're in a time and age where distraction and attention are the top-one priorities of those greedy companies. Don't give them what they want, read, educate yourself, write, even if it's bad at first. During a period where reading has become a priviledge, we need to make it a normal thing to do.

Simon Riley x The Three Musketeers AU ?

: ̗̀➛ disclaimer : it’s a little scene I imagined and wrote right on spot, if I develop this AU more, I need to do some historical research and to read Dumas’ work. I also tried to be as inclusive as possible so there aren’t any physical depiction of the reader’s POV - except that it's a female!reader one.

: ̗̀➛ also this is my first time ever writing in English, and as it’s not my first language, I truly apologize if it comes off as emotionless, I still need some practice lmao. I hope you’ll enjoy it still !

It's late at night when Simon posts himself next to your door, ready to take his turn as your personal bodyguard. A new decree from your father has given you a permanent bodyguard, one chosen among his personal elite guard, the famous Musketeers. Usually, at least they would know why he took such measure for his daughter, yet no one knows at court no matter how high their status is or how close from His Majesty they can be. Rumors have since spread like wildfire : have you dodged an assassination attempt ? Have you been caught with a secret lover ? Courtiers lack of information, but imagination and romance they certainly don't.

Yet none of that is his concern. Since his recent recruitment in the king's personal cavalery, the young man's mind is focused on only one goal : being worthy of his new role as a Musketeer. Having worked as a squire gave him the opportunity to see the legendary Musketeers from up close : Porthos and his unreal strength, Aramis and his admirable faith, and the mysterious Athos, to whom he didn't speak much. Even if Simon himself was usually quite silent and even more when he met them, they all grew fond of the kid. He dreamed everyday to become like them, because every boy his age shared the same dream of glory , adventures and battles, but also because Simon saw through them the best way of putting as much distance between him and his father that he could ; with protection from the king himself, he hoped he would never see this cruel smile anywhere anymore.

So Simon trained. Every night, with only the moon as witness, he trained his moves and reflexes, with a wooden stick as a sword and an empty box in the stables, and a vague idea of how to fight with a saber. Eventually, the Musketeers learned about his training - or rather they caught him while coming back from a mission - and soon enough, M. de Tréville himself showed up and recruited him in the young guard. Simon got finally nominated as a new Musketeer when M. de Tréville died and the legendary trio retired, leaving room for a new generation.

An here he is now, on his first mission to protect Her Highness from an unknown menace. Armed with his own musket, Simon keeps his posture, vigilant of anything remotely suspicious that could happen in this tiny bit of a corridor. As time passes and the moonlight stretches its rays inside, the young man starts observing : a rich wooden console table on which stands a golden candelabra, the only light around his peremeter ; and a portrait of what looked like a young girl and her dog. Given the scale of the painting, its location and the richness of her dress on the portrait, it must've been the princess. No one sees her except for exceptional occasions, and Simon especially has never seen her before, so he could only guess.

On the painting, she looks calm, holding a puppy on her knees, radiating a softness she's still renowned for today. However, Simon can't help but notice the sadness in her eyes. Is it the tiny crease of her brows, or the light shining a bit too much ? Was she truly sad when the painting was made, or was it the reflection of an ill-intentioned painter ?

A loud thud reverberates before he could continue his analysis. Coming from the other side of the door, Simon heared another song of what seemed like a groan of pain. Without hesitating further, he barges in and arms his musket around.

The sight before him is however unexpected : sheets of paper on the floor or still floating around, a full inkwell spilled on the secretary, and the princess, visibly fallen from her chair. As his gaze falls on her, Simon could notice the way her sheer nightrobe falls on her hips, how her hair is braided but some rebel strands framed her face. But no, what strikes him the most now are her eyes : soft, but reflecting the exact same sadness he has seen on the painting outside... And panic ? He quickly realizes what the scene looks like : an unknown armed man in Her Highness' most intimate space in the whole palace - hell, the whole kingdom. He has no time to even bow before she shouts.