#alternate world war II

[sakuralou2689]

Long time no post...

Not FMA, Marvel, or any fandom related fic, it's more like medical drama, slice of life, and family with elements of alternate WWII, Fantasy, and crime and suspense. It's actually a spin-off from the other Discord DND RP campaign which I was previously involved. I'm just gonna post the first chapter instead. Not sure about the others. Mostly like there are OCs from me and my friends are here.

[nativadron]

Autumn Breezes (Part I)

pairings: Mick Schumacher/Justine Huysman, Mick Schumacher/original female character (later, as the story goes)

tags: mick schumacher, michael schumacher, justine huysman, corinna schumacher, gina-maria schumacher

disclaimer: this work is going to have several parts that I intended to share with you part by part (I hope I can share it with you sooner since I had it already in my draft and just to find the right time to do it!). At the moment, this is part 1 for you! Enjoy!

warnings: bullying, harsh language, labelling, racism, identity covering, identity crisis, anxiety, mild violence

note: this is an art of fanfiction. all images and lines displayed in this post belong to me as the author and the creator. you can also find me on Wattpad (@Hadiwasito16). feel free to visit my works (Winds of Summer is already published there!) and hit the vote button/comment as you like! Thank you!

--

London, 1958

It was a different time back then when I was still unable to learn what made my family a runaway. Things haven’t changed; I still live in the shadows. Being of German descent still makes me aware enough that I have eyes on me and they never should know who I am.

I am fourteen and never looked like I wanted to be doing my life; growing up and putting things as if they were more than a dream of thousand dreams of mine.

“Mick!”

“Yes, Dad?”

“Come! Help me with the machine, will you?”

My Dad, Michael, was a retired Air Commander of The Royal Air Force. He is now a local mechanic, opening a car shop in town and I will be a helping hand for a whole day at the weekend and I’m not even bored to do it. He is a determined worker, as he always had before. He is also selfless, knowing that a good heart will always bring goodness too.

“Dad?”

“How was it to be an Air Commander?”

Michael is sure that war stories are never a good thing to be told to children, even to his son. “There was nothing special of being a man that grew to lead a thousand men,”

“I was born to be lucky. That’s what I always believe.”

Being a fourteen-year-old kid is not something I would imagine to be some kind of exciting. For the first 13 years, I felt good surrounded by the ones I loved most. Then, I had to embrace the outside world as I started to reach my second year at a local secondary school. It is just about a mile or two from my home, so I will mostly ride my bike in the morning. Mama always packs me lunch and some snacks too, in case I have to stay longer for an extracurricular activity.

Today as any other day, I would be listed as the earlier student to get into school as I hate to be late. On my way to the classroom, I saw a girl who also caught me yesterday and the last year of my life here as a student and wondered why she was mostly spending her time alone and sitting there with her only favourite book. She seemed so content, only there was something that I couldn’t extract from her eyes but I felt sadness other than any I could recognise. If I may meet her again during the break time, I would try to make my first encounter with her and I hope I wouldn’t make it more uncomfortable for her.

“Look at now, a Shoemaker just landed!”

Unbelievable. As I think that my second year will be greater than ever, this boy and his fellow are a complete mess to ruin my day.

“As plainer as any Nazis could ever exist!”

“Even he didn’t know that he probably might be a Nazi!”

Some other students are putting this thing highly over me as they would describe me as someone of a non-English breed. It is true, only I never knew why they had to call me such. As much as I hate it, I’m still wondering too, whether I am of German descent that also got something behind it more than just an identity that made me of a man that walked this earth.

I let them by as if I never heard any mockery got my ears burned. As I turn to look at the same spot where the girl is sitting, our eyes meet and I can sense how much she gets questions about me. She doesn’t stay and walks away as the time for the class comes just right at the time.

Since I recognise myself as a bright-brainer, I never felt any class would be such an annoyance to my day. I would beat everything in a single go and pass it well. If I got stuck or found any difficulties, I would still manage to get through and done. The class is over and I run instantly out from the classroom to the school’s garden where the girl is mostly caught to spend her day there and I hope I can meet her.

As I am breathlessly trying to catch my breath, there she is, reading a book with a lunchbox in her lap. I regain all my thoughts and fix my posture before I finally walk down the path to claim my seat that is positioned across from her.

“Hello! Do you mind if I join you?”

I’ve never really been a good conversationist, but she looks at me hesitantly. She was a little bit tense, but then a welcoming smile reached her lips that offered to me and I couldn’t be more grateful to be welcomed by her. I hope this is some kind of gaining her trust towards me as I wish that this thing would go on since today’s encounter.

I unpack my lunchbox and dive instantly for the pasta carbonara that my mom made for me this morning. I also got an apple and some broccoli inside, which I am grateful for filling up my lunch break.

“That spaghetti isn’t telling much about you, I bet.”

I was about to have my first chew, but she stopped me. “Why is that? Do people measure a person’s identity from their food these days?”

She closes her book and secures it next to her. I reckon that she almost finished her lunch too, “Shoemaker, right? I bet you’re a true Englishman but not from London. You must be from The Isle of Scotland or maybe Ireland.”

I don’t care much about it as I take my first chew slowly. She waits for me, patiently and not even intimidating at all.

“Scotland? Never heard of people telling me that I am Scottish. Even worse, Ireland is far from expectation after all.”

“Really? Your name seemed fit.”

“My accent betrays me.”

“So does your appearance.”

That strikes me deeply. Fewer stings, but deep. If this is another way to get bullied, I would rather never listen to her anymore. “What do you think of me?”

“So, I’ve heard, but I don’t think less of you as any of boys did. You’re probably less English, but I never think that you are of a Nazi. What makes them define you as the lowly subject that earth ever had?”

“I am, too, not coming from here. Being Dutch is never a big thing, only I got labelled as Indische Conqueror, even though I got nothing correlated to my country’s actions.”

Her preaching weirdly touches me. I almost hate that she will be just like any other who throws a mock at my face, but she is turning out to be stuck in the same situation as I am. We are the commoners to the royals of the court, so it seems.

“I am Mick. Mick Shoemaker… as you’ve known.”

It’s always weird to be the one who offers a handshake, but she takes my hand delightfully. Her smile mirrors my comfort upon meeting her as everything began to loosen up and flow better between us.

“Justine Huysman.”

And the conversation goes on until we both realize that time makes us walk again to have another class.

I’ve grown better since I met Justine. I don’t know what it may be, but I haven’t decided any to be called feelings. I think we are fine. And I love to have her around without anything to worry about; which is, our feelings for each other.

“So, Justine… why they nicknamed you that?”

Justine shrugs, but that’s not because she didn’t get any idea of it. “Well, colonialism. Maybe you should listen to the radio daily and not stress about what you did with your Dad in his car shop.”

“Hey, it’s nothing to brag about! That’s my shared hobby with him, by the way.”

“Oh? Contradictive, it seems, considering your last name doesn’t suit your hobby in any way.”

“Stop that!”

“Okay, okay! I’m just being hilarious, that’s all!”

We’ve been riding our bikes together since our first day knowing each other. She enjoyed my company along the way on the way home, and so did myself. Sometimes, we take a different path just to make our ride last longer and feel the time well spent together. Time after time, it feels like I almost can’t think of having my day without her. But, I’m afraid. I’m afraid that she doesn’t call this anything but some kind of passable moment we have.

One day, it becomes harder to contain my burdened feelings about her. I decided to call it love. Her, as everything above stars and galaxies, is my first love.

We walk toward the sea of flowers that noon on Saturday, side by side while pushing our bikes slowly. The sun is amazingly bright but does not sting the skin. Justine brought me here and she said that this is her favourite spot to spend some time alone with her books. After quite a while, we finally sit and talk casually. I’m sharing about my work in the car shop and she tells me about her hometown back in the Netherlands. With such amazing eyes looking at me, she is sparkling with happiness and her precious memories about her past life there and I am touched.

I grow to adore her; her happiness, her sincerity, her selfless mind. And that’s the first time, without any doubt, I decided I couldn’t be a liar anymore. I can’t be hiding as I never know how to call it better when I never said the word.

“Ich hab dich lieb, Justine.”

It’s just blurted out. I don’t even feel any single guilt upon confessing my true feelings toward her.

“You spoke German?”

“What?”

“Did you just speak German?”

I knew that I shouldn’t, I knew that this would be a mistake, “I… I did.”

She holds my hand. I am looking at her, feeling extremely scared and I can feel my cheeks flushed, but then she greets me with a smile. Still, I don’t even know what it means until she envelops both of my hands and holds them all together.

“I’ve loved you first, Mick.”

And my heart never felt the same as the past weeks before; restless and blue. She puts a beat that I never want to trade for another. And I don’t feel insecure or betrayed by my surroundings for the first time.

“How?”

“I guess it just comes as a resolution of meeting someone that had the same fate in an unexpected place, Mick.” 

And I kiss her there, for the first time when the autumn breeze blows.

-

After our last meeting, I didn’t see her at school. I’ve grown weary as if I never got to see her again. What if it’s true? Or, what if she is not seeing through what we had as one?

“Hey, Shoemaker!”

I was in the middle of a hurry when all those bullies called me. I don’t spare my time for them and keep running, but they pull me out of the hallway and slam me against the wall in the bathroom.

“Don’t you dare to call us off, you Nazi!”

“I don’t have time for this, I have to go home.”

“Home? I don’t see why you have to go home early.”

“That’s why you just don’t see it why!”

“So, what? You want to run to the Nazi Dad of yours to find help?”

Nazi.

Nazi.

Nazi.

I am nothing Nazi. I have never been such.

“I am not a Nazi!”

That was the first time I called myself to hit them. I don’t care if I have to be bruised, but I will walk away free and justify how much I hate to be labelled something that I am not even a part of.

“I AM NOT A NAZI!”

I can finally feel how much I loved to stand up for myself, but they still had the upper hand and I am the minor. I have fought for what I believed I was not, yet they are still unbeatable. They knocked me out when I thought I would be the winner. It’s like I don’t have a chance to be alive anymore: to feel equal and free as I have always been.

“Blue-eyed Nazi!”

“Dirty Aryan!”

“Go back to Germany!”

I never thought I would cry wholly when they are beaming at me, madly satisfied that their mockery hits me.

How do they know that I am German?

Why did they call me a Nazi?

I don’t even know that I am an Aryan breed.

I don’t even know if I had a place I called home in Germany.

“Hey! What is going on here?!”

And that’s when the hitting stops. I can taste bile in my mouth, even my eyesight is far from better. I try to get up, but only get to fall again. But at least, I get to see Justine that stands there but still so far to reach out.

And I pass out.

-

The next time I woke up, I saw my mom with a worry-plastered face. Dad is not so different, even. Gina is the worst. I am hurt, but not so deep as my aching pride upon seeing them together here makes me even smaller.

“No, you better lay still, son.”

“Dad, it is—” Yes, it hurts. Even my eyes were barely able to see. But at least, I am not fading.

“I told you. It’s all going to be fine if you lay still.”

“Why you weren’t at school?” I know, I am supposed to worry about my condition, but I can’t let my mind slide and not ask her why she is here instead of school.

“Mick, you were being silly, you know that?”

“I—well, still, you’re supposed to be at school.”

“Stop it. Both of you. It’s not time for arguing.”

“We’re not arguing—” and that sounds weirder than ever to have the same word thrown over at the same time with a person who is not on the same page with you.

“Dad, it is not me who started all—”

“I knew you didn’t, son. You would have not.”

Still, it doesn’t give me the reassurance I want. I’m afraid he didn’t believe me. And I know that I am never good at reasoning.

“My dearest, I’d like to speak with Mick briefly.”

“I will take Gina to the cafeteria. Do you want anything?”

“No, thank you, my love. We’ll be fine.”

Dad takes a spot on the edge of the bed and sits comfortably as he lays one of his hands on my leg. He doesn’t seem to be angry with me or hold a grudge to the recent event.

“I would never ask whom or when the event happened. I just want to know if you are all right,” He knows all too well that asking for details will only ruin everything for me and I did appreciate that.

“I just want to know if our presence here is nothing to make you feel that you are smaller than the ones who did this to you. You are loved. That’s all you have to understand.”

“What if it’s not what it looks like? What if these will only make them consider that I am nothing but a weak boy?”

“You are not weak. You found help and we will always help you. Nothing will ever change that, Mick.”

It’s like time changing. Too fast, barely there to breathe and bask in. It is slipping out of my touch. Now I’m here, looking in the mirror and taking a long deep breath to start another new page of the journey. School is another thing I enjoy as the bullies are moving out. They get a bright future ahead as their parents pursue their goals somewhere better than in The United Kingdom. We made amends, though. That’s what relieves me the most.

Justine is making everything easy, too. I never ask for such a blessing to come right at me, but she sure is. And we grow closer.

“So, what’s in your head at the moment?”

We are staring at the sun above us with our eyes closed, basking in the light, with our hands entwined as we lie side by side in the grass. We never thought that months after our first encounter, it would become a thing that I would adore and nurture. I’m sure I wouldn’t be the same man if I hadn’t met her in the first place.

“I’m thinking of surviving school, of course!”

She laughs as if she didn’t intend to do the same thing. “Well, we both will! But, what’s ahead of everything we had at the moment?”

There, I am sure I haven’t thought about anything at the moment, of what lies ahead of me. It’s almost pointless and to be not disturbed by becoming a hard thinker, is surely peculiar.

“I can only say nothing,”

“Nothing?”

“But surely, I am grateful we are in the present moment. Together. Surviving.”

“Surviving… yes, we both are.”

I hold her hand, beam at the sight and feel silly for being in love with someone I used to call a friend. She smiles, surely sending a thousand watts of happiness that justifies my everlasting love for her. Maybe, in another year, I could look back and call this a fling.

Or maybe, I could let this memory alive and call this real love.

That dusk, we ride our bicycles together, side by side and holding each other’s hands. Justine is smiling all the way home and I don’t even bother to look at it for another year if God allows me.

“See you sooner, Germania!”

“See you sooner, Dutch!”

I swear that she can be the only one who called me Germania.

--

“Mick! Oh, where have you been?”

“You know I won’t go anywhere far, Dad. How’s today?”

“Let me take a look at you.”

I am as red as a tomato, fell in love, and am extremely happy with the person who bought my love back. What is there to hide?

“You are… okay, I suppose?”

“Indeed, I am.” A cheeky one. I can’t even let my Dad mock me for being in love.

“Who’s the other girl?”

Oh, here it comes. “My friend. A dear friend, I could say.”

“And her name is?”

“Justine. She’s Dutch.”

“Nederlander? Are you sure?”

“Yes, Dad. She is.”

“She seems a good companion.”

“Oh, Dad, please—”

“I’m not teasing you! I know she is well-mannered and surely raised in a better family environment.”

“That is the fact.”

“All right, get washed up and be ready for dinner. Your mother is waiting for you.”

“Be there a minute, Dad!”

“So, you met a girl?”

“Seems everyone is conspiring to know about my days recently.”

“No, Mick. I saw you too, don’t you realise?”

“I bet you do.”

Even Gina is not looking less like my Dad. She is digging something. “There is nothing I could tell about her. I am trying to get to know her more.”

“I am convinced that she does the same way as you.”

“I just—I’m afraid I lost her before I knew her.”

Gina walks forward and gently squeezes my shoulders, “I don’t think she will leave you.”

“How do I know she won’t?”

“Believe is not something hard to do, is it?”

“No, it isn’t.” I smile.

“Now, that looks better! So, how about some more tea?”

“Yes, please.”

[nerds-yearbook]

In 1962, The Man in the High Castle took place 15 years after Japan, Italy, and Germany won the world war. The victors ruled the world in a very totalitarian way. The Moon, Venus, and Mars were colonized. ("The Man in the High Castle", BK)

[lonestarbattleship]

USS MONTANA (BB-67) in Measure 32 Design 11D, USS OHIO (BB-68) in Measure 32 Design 7D, USS MAINE (BB-69) in Measure 33 Design 4Ab (modified), and USS NEW HAMPSHIRE (BB-70) in Measure 33 Design 10A. Four of the five Montana Class in a hypothetical what if.

"USA, Montana-Class (1946)" by AlexanderVonDerBrung: link

[spinningelectro]

A World War II AU where Officer Combeferre found himself a brave but reckless on-field intelligence agent, who became his everything.

[the-wales-5]

"In another life..." 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

29th April 1931.

The newlyweds Catherine Murray and William Howard just left the little church in the village where they tied the knot surrounded by their close family and friends. The bride was a part of an aristocratic Murray family but she still wanted to keep a low profile so instead of having a rather huge ceremony in London with King George V attending, she decided to have a small wedding in her favourite part of Wales and to wear a crown made of her favourite flowers instead of an expensive tiara from her family's vault.

William was looking at her with love as if she was the only woman to ever exist on the earth and that was something she considered her biggest achievement and joy in life.

"I cannot believe we did this at last" Giggled her as she looked at her now-husband. They'd been together for almost 10 years at that point, having met each other when they both were 18.

"It is real, Lady Murray-Howard" William whispered and kissed her on the lips, causing their guests to cheer.

"Promise me that we'll never be separated" she whispered as she took his hand in hers.

William smiled without replying to her and just squeezed her hand more as they walked to the car driving them to their house in North Wales where a small wedding reception was about to start.

*

1939.

Their life was almost idyllic, with two children and a dog living in Wales, until September 1939 when Germany declared the Second World War against Poland and therefore other countries as well.

"You know what they say.. about the war.. and you are the pilot, they may need assistance from planes.." said Catherine as they were coming back from a horse ride with their 7-year old daughter Mary.

"Yes indeed" William nodded and then he noticed his wife's fearful facial expression. He told Mary to go inside the house and then approached his wife "I will join the forces if that will be necessary. No need to elaborate on that, Catherine"

"Are you serious?" She scoffed, "We've got two children!" 

"And our country may soon experience war. We both have seen what it means to live in a country at war, haven't we? My father died during the First World War in 1919 and if I have to, I will defend my country just like he did"

"So you want to die as well?" Catherine murmured and chuckled with sorrow "Just to defend your country and keep his memory?"

"Do not be ridiculous" he sighed as he approached her "I am aware that we have children. I will not be risking my life on the front line if that won't be necessary to protect our nation".

He kissed her on the forehead and held her hand, helping her to get off of her horse. Catherine hugged him and then they shared a kiss. Mary and her brother Patrick giggled as they ran towards their parents.

 Back in London, the royal family lived their lives, attending official engagements while ordinary people on the streets, the same as Lady Howard and her husband were talking about the possibility of war coming to the United Kingdom.

*

1944. 

Three words. 3 words she dreaded to hear for the last few years. "I am leaving". She didn't even have to ask "Where?". She knew. 

The war. The front line. He was needed for the operation near Normandy where the Alliance forces were fighting with the Nazis. An easy way to die and leave her and their children for good. Seeing him saying "goodbye" to Patrick and Mary made her curse his abilities to fly in planes even if she always used to admire that in him. 

William was about to travel to France by train. Although he told her to stay at home, Lady Howard traveled to the station with him. The media knew about this but they were unusually respective and didn't bother the couple at all. 

"You never promised me that we'll never separate. Not during the wedding, nor later. You knew that it was coming" She whispered with pain in her voice as they were looking at each other right before he left.

"I don't know how to explain it, darling"

"No need for an explanation. Just take it" she handed him a dried-up white "Sweet William", her favourite flower, a part of her wedding's flower crown worn in April 1931.

One picture of her wiping tears upon leaving the train station was published by the press but Catherine's father The Earl of Pembroke forced them to erase it. Otherwise, both the photographer and the author of the article titled "LADY MURRAY'S FAREWELL TO  HERO WILLIAM HOWARD AS HE GOES ON WAR" would have faced a law prosecution in London's court for invading her privacy.

As she was sitting in the car that drove her back to her small cottage, Lady Catherine Murray was looking at his picture but her thoughts were not about him but about someone else. A baby. She and William's third baby that she was carrying. Nobody knew besides her and her doctor. Her pregnancy got confirmed the same day when her husband decided to leave for France to "defend the country". Therefore, she had no time to tell him about their new "bundle of joy". By all these days leading to his departure, she has been wondering if telling that would perhaps keep William at home. Her heart was telling her to do exactly that but her mind was consumed by thoughts like: "That would make me a selfish person" .

Her sense won against her heart and now she was regretting it. A few hours later when she was in the bedroom, she touched her bump for the first time ever and whispered "He will return to us. We have to believe it".

Then, she pulled a picture of her husband out of her purse and began to pray. She used to do that often years ago when her then-boyfriend was attending a military academy to get his pilot licence and also when he was a rescue pilot back in the very beginning of the Second World War between 1939-1942. It finally began to sink into her brain. It was not just assistance in helping injured soldiers anymore. Now he was a soldier too. This thought was enough to make her cry after only one minute of her prayers.

*

Weeks passed and William Howard was getting used to his new routine of being a pilot during the war. Despite only two months of warfare, a majority of people serving in the same battalion whom he met on his first day in France were killed off. He knew he could not give up. Every single time when he doubted if all of this was worth its price, he was immediately 'brought back' to London's train station full of other soldiers saying their goodbyes to their families.

 Every night, he was thinking of his children, and of his wife's teary eyes and had been falling asleep while inhaling the 'scent' of that dried-up white flower which she gave him.

"Catherine, I will come back to you. I promise". Those words seemed like a prayer for him. He often told himself when there was danger close to his battalion or in the air. 

*

Lady Murray-Howard had to keep herself busy so as to not worry too much about the ongoing war. She has been attending many charity events founded to help the families of men who were fighting on the front line. She was attending almost all of them despite her tiredness. She wanted to show her unity with other waiting women even if that meant crying while hugging her husband's pillow after coming back home.

"Are you sure you want to go?" Her father asked. He was about to join an event like that with her for the first time. 

"Obviously yes" Catherine weakly smiled as she was finishing putting on her make-up in front of the mirror "It is an amazing initiative, you will see it for yourself, papa"

"I have no doubts about that. It's just--.. Catherine, let me tell you the truth. Do you still believe he will return? It's been weeks and he can already be deceased! Nobody knows what is happening there!"

Lady Murray rolled her eyes but spoke up: "Let me tell you a story of a woman I met during a meeting in Leicester last week. Her husband Richard has been a soldier for four years now. Four years, not weeks. Last year there was news about Germans bombarding the battalion he was in. That woman I met went through a nightmare trying to get even a small piece of information, first about the whole incident, and then about her husband's condition. He suffered from brain injury but survived and even remembered his wife during their meeting in the hospital! It is truly a miracle and I know it is just one of many! You cannot think only of the worst-case scenarios possible".

"But this is the cruel reality of war, Kate. You must accept the fact that happy endings happen to just 1% of soldiers and their families" Michael, The Earl of Pembroke said.

Catherine closed her eyes and after taking a deep breath she said with confidence in her voice: "I'd rather believe in happy endings than sink into depression after imagining the death of my husband and other men!" .

Michael sighed. He was now facing the window as if he was afraid to tell his daughter the following words while looking at her face: "The moment you revealed you are engaged to a person from the middle class I had a feeling that it will only bring us problems. If William was a nobleman, he'd never go to war! He would stay at home and defend the country in a civilised manner, by donations to charities".

Catherine was speechless for a second. At last, she replied: "Oh, thank you for confirming how much you despise my husband. You needed almost 15 years and a war to admit it. Wow" she chuckled with sorrow and her eyes narrowed as she added: "You know what, papa? If William's manners are not good enough then let me tell you that yours aren't good either right now. These poor women do not need your appearance during this meeting this afternoon, nor do they need your 'donations'. I'll go there on my own! Stay with Mary and Patrick, if you have enough time for it" she scoffed and left the house with furiousness.

Five weeks passed since Lady Murray's last conversation with her father. She was attending yet another charity meeting in Cardiff when all of a sudden a man from her father's office came in. She had no slightest idea what it could mean but she listened to each word he said, getting paler within seconds.

"No.. It's impossible" she mumbled at last and fainted.

*

48 hours earlier.

He looked for 'one last time' at the white dried-up flower.

"I am so sorry, Kate," soldier William Howard murmured and closed his eyes.

*

Michael arrived at the hospital where his daughter had been taken after losing consciousness during her meeting. He already knew what happened to his son-in-law and considered it a blessing to Catherine. In his mind, The Earl of Pembroke already imagined his daughter's second wedding taking place. A wedding with a Welsh, noble, wealthy man whom she "deserved".

"Lady Murray-Howard is such an unlucky person" one nurse said to another standing in the hospital corridor.

"What are you two talking about?" He asked but without hearing their answer he entered Catherine's cabin. She kept her hands on her stomach while looking through the window.

"I've lost them both" she whispered through tears when she noticed Michael's gaze.

He had no idea about her pregnancy, therefore the fact he just realised struck him like lightning.

~~~

'Why is this bloody war so cruel to me? Why is the whole universe against me? Losing him would have been easier if I had our third baby close to myself, that thought would console me a little. C. Howard, 1944." 

~~~

That was her first note weeks after getting to know about her husband's death and her miscarriage. Now, after a year since writing it out, she was looking through old notes, finding that particular one from 1944. As she was closing her notebook, her father watched her.

"Your life has been surrendered by anxiety since he left for France. It was quite predictable that you would lose your child sooner or later" he said

"Your grandchild," Catherine remarked and looked at her father with narrowed eyes "How can you be so heartless? I lost my husband and a baby and you say that it was 'predictable'? I am lost for words, papa".

"Think of the positivity that comes from this situation. Soon, you will finally find a man who will not be risking his life at war"

"You mean you will find him for me, right?' She scoffed. "It has been more than a year and so far there is no luck. I am so sorry for being such a disappointment for you but.." she stopped to take a breath and continued: "But I will always love William. Only him. You can even try to organise my meetings with as many potential future husbands of mine as you want. Just know that I will reject every single one of them." she emphasised each word "No matter how much money they will keep in their houses or how handsome they will be. It does not matter to me at all. Your attempts will all be pointless, as they have been until now".

"I am constantly giving you a choice, Catherine. If I was to threaten you, I'd force you to get married a month or perhaps even a day after we got to know about William's death. In my mind, there was a possibility of a wedding ceremony with the first nobleman I could think of. Be kind enough and notice how I was, and how I still am letting you get used to life without Mr Howard and get to know someone of your choice. Moreover, you are not held hostage here either so do not exaggerate this situation" he said louder.

"I'd rather be held hostage than have to think about 'someone new' in my life, papa" she murmured and closed her eyes "Leave my room, please".

"Lady Catherine Murray, soon you will see for yourself that living in the land of the dead takes you nowhere. The hurtful truth is that you are wasting the greatest years of your life now'.

"No. I am not Catherine Murray, papa. For almost 15 years my surname is Howard. It will always be Howard, not Murray nor any other name of an unknown, noble man" she hissed, yet she had confidence and determination in her voice "Papa, let yourself accept that in 1931, on the day when Lady Catherine Murray got married, she died and instead she became Mrs Catherine Howard.

Accept that it is my surname now and please let it be written on my gravestone in the future when I will, at last, join my husband".

She finished and looked at her father with 'sharp eyes' so he left to go to the garden where his grandchildren were waiting.

 Catherine watched Patrick and Mary through the window for a few seconds. Then, she closed her eyes and burst into tears. After she calmed down a little, she looked at her reflection in the mirror, noticing a silver locket which had been hanging from her neck since the day William asked her to become his happily ever after.

There was no ring or other expensive jewellery for the proposal, just that locket which he found in his teenage years in an old box with his family belongings in the attic and which he then named "A piece of jewellery for my future wife". 

A silver locket with a small blue stone and two pictures of them were both put there by William himself days before asking her to be his wife. Simple, yet meaningful.

She promised to wear it always. Now, though, she took it off and opened it for the first time. "I cannot keep it with me forever. I guess my father is right. I must leave the land of the dead. I spent too much of my time there. But no worries, my William" she weakly smiled, closing her eyes "I will not marry anyone else. Remember that I will always love you. Your Catherine Howard" she whispered and put the locket into a wooden drawer in their bedroom. As she was closing it with a key, she was not even trying to hold back her new tears.

*

France.

"Where am I?' A soldier asked one of the nurses working in a hospital minutes after waking up from a type of coma that lasted more than a year.

"You are in the hospital, Sir. Your battalion was attacked in 1944. A year ago. It is truly a miracle you are alive"

'So there's still an ongoing war."

"No. It ended two months ago, Sir. Today's date is July 20th, 1945"

"My son's birthday is in two days," William said and weakly smiled.

His doctor did a checkup but it seemed like he remembered every detail of his life The names of his children, his family members' birthdays, the date of his wedding and he remembered her. Catherine. His wife and someone who kept him in her memory all this time. He assumed that she married someone else meanwhile so he did not try to write a letter. "I do not want to ruin her life".

*

On the day of her son's birthday, Catherine couldn't help but think of her husband again. She still thought that he was deceased on that day in France back in 1944.

"Do you think he is looking over us?" Mary asked her mum as she stepped closer to Catherine and put her hand around her

"Yes, certainly," her mother replied and smiled as she looked up to the sky. She felt quite worried about her father now because he was late for Patrick's birthday party.

 The Earl of Pembroke was attending an 'urgent meeting' in England, regarding the situation of his son-in-law. He knew everything all along and despite that, lied to Catherine and her kids. "The most convenient solution for this would be to keep it all a secret, and in case he would try to return to Wales and Lady Murray's life, then you must take steps to kill him" he commanded without a blink of an eye.

*

25th August 1945.

William was able to leave for home after the long hospital treatment. Home. He wondered where to go. His old house was destroyed in the war back in 1942 and the home where he lived with his wife and children was no longer his. The decision he made not to come back to Catherine's life was upheld. All of a sudden, he noticed a familiar silhouette of a man.

*

Catherine Howard tried to find the strength to keep going through her life, bring up her children and had hoped to find peace. She kept her promise of not marrying anyone else and cared for her two children and charities. Nothing of that had given her the liberty she desperately needed but she knew she could not leave. "He left and that caused us enough heartbreak. I cannot leave as well" she thought to herself over the years when been getting suicidal thoughts.

On his deathbed, her father who died due to cancer in 1950, had given her a letter without explaining it. Catherine opened it three days after his funeral.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"My beloved daughter,

I apologise for not having enough courage to tell you about it before. Your husband survived. He survived the attack on his battalion six years ago. I am sincerely sorry for keeping it a secret. All along since 1921 when I met William, I thought you made the biggest mistake of your life. It turns out you were right and I was and will stay the worst possible father and grandfather ever.

William was the victim of war but also a victim of my eagerness to make your life better. I met him once after the war ended. It was the day him being discharged from the hospital. I had wanted to make sure he would not try to return to your life. Consequently, I told him that you met someone and got married for the second time. I mentioned a pregnancy that you miscarried and I blamed him for it. I was astonished when his reply to that was: "I assumed her second marriage a long time ago. Tell her I am sorry for making her life a misery and that she and our three children were my everything above all". 

He was run over by a car driving at a high speed right as he walked away from the spot where we met. I am certain it was not an accident. I killed him. I wanted it for years and yet when it was announced to me by a doctor in France I was in a state of shock, almost sadness even. His gravestone is located close to the church where you two got married. Nobody knew it was his funeral, only me. You can find it. -8 / 1945- is all that's written on it..

Patrick, Mary and you are victims of my selfishness and greed. I understand completely if you won't be able to forgive me, Kate. But remember I loved you and cared for you and your children. I've made huge donations to all those charities you supported over the years. Last year, I also made several secret visits to a few of those, just like you always wanted me to. It is not enough and I am aware of that. I have not left money or any other sort of inheritance. You and your son are owners of our family estate, so you can keep it or sell it to get money from it as I once told you. But there is something that you would probably like to keep with yourself. Look inside this envelope. "Something that saved me during the war now is supposed to keep her safe" were his last words to me.

I, most likely, will not get your forgiveness so I can only hope for God's forgiveness.

Your father - Michael".

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mrs Howard was shocked to bits after reading the letter. It dropped from her hand onto the floor while tears appeared in her eyes. "It is insane.." she murmured and broke down crying. While doing so, she looked inside the envelope as her father told her to. Almost yellow now, dried up flower "Sweet William". A 'talisman' she had given her husband back in May 1944, something that "saved him during the war" did not manage to do that for the second time because he returned it to her father, almost as if he did not want to live anymore. 

Catherine Howard quickly wiped her tears when her son came to her room. 

"Mum, is everything alright?" He asked as he approached her. She sniffed and with all her possible strength she hugged her son.

In the evening, that 'talisman' in an envelope was put right next to Catherine's locket with two pictures of her and William Howard. Her father's Welsh property was sold three months later and she and her children moved out of there as soon as it was possible. The Earl of Pembroke's daughter did not want to stay there as she considered it cursed because of him.  She had taken all the significant things with her to another, much smaller house in Wales. She also ordered William's full name to be written on his gravestone.

Mrs Howard witnessed the wedding celebrations of both her & William's children, had become a grandmother three times and lived in her second home until her death at the age of 79. A white flower "Sweet William" was put inside her hand and a silver locket with two photographs was again put on her neck on the day of the funeral. The location of her grave was right next to one of her dear husband William. "Catherine Howard" was the name written on it, just like she wished years before.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

2010.

Prince William and his fiancée Catherine Middleton entered their first real house in Anglesey, Wales.

As she stepped into one of the rooms, she felt something weird, as if the spirit of someone 'checked' what she was doing there. For some reason, it did not scare her but instead made her open an old drawer with a key.

"What is this?" She whispered as she took something into her hands and slowly opened.

It was an envelope with one petal of "Sweet William" and a piece of paper with words:

"Life is too short to love you in one, I promise to look for you in the next life".

She knew this quote was by William Shakespeare. It made her feel confused and amazed all at once. As she stared at the letters on paper and dried petals of "Sweet William", her future husband put his hand on her shoulder.

"What is this?" He asked

"I wanted to ask you the same question now" she startled and showed him the envelope and what was inside it. William was astonished as well but as he read the sentence by Shakespeare a few times and looked at the petal of one of his wife's favourite flowers, he looked at her and kissed her on the lips. 

The air surrounding them had a familiar scent. The scent of flowers which years before were a part of Catherine Murray's flower crown on her wedding day to William Howard.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

THE END.

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

THE FASHION CHOICES OF A "PSYCHEDELIC BIKER" -- A LOOK AT HARD ROCK STYLES OF YORE.

PIC(S) INFO: Spotlight on a handful of former fashion style items belonging to Billy Duffy, musician/lead guitarist for English gothic rock/hard rock band THE CULT, c. mid 1980s.

"CLASH" BOOTS: "These Santa Rosa motorcycle boots were my first ever pair of "real" "Clash" boots. I think I bought them in 1984 on The Cult's first U.S. tour but I do remember that I had to take a taxi to get to the store which was on Santa Monica Boulevard in West LA. It was around that time that I was developing my psychedelic biker look with the paisley shirt, beads and motorcycle belt buckles. But they're probably most notable for being "the" boots from the opening sequence of "Love Removal Machine" video!"

BELT BUCKLE: "I picked up this Harley-Davidson belt buckle at the same time as I bought my "Clash" Motorcycle Boots from the store in Santa Monica Boulevard in West LA. Along with the 'Triumph' one it became part of my psychedelic biker look and was worn often onstage in the 1980s and likely to be seen in several videos and photo shoots." -- BILLY DUFFY, c. February 2016

IRON CROSS: Billy's original German Army WWII 'Iron Cross' that featured extensively in the photoshoot's for the "Love" album. “Around 1982 I worked on a stall in Kensington Market, London that sold vintage military clothing and memorabilia and I picked up this old German medal there. I’d always had an interest in war history, as does Ian, but I started wearing the Iron Cross in The Cult because I was influenced by the look of the Asheton Brothers on the sleeve of the classic debut album from The Stooges. It was part of my psychedelic biker look that also included hippy beads with a peace sign, the Triumph Motorcycle belt buckle, leather pants and the paisley shirts.”

All items featured in THE BILLY DUFFY COLLECTION Auction on 25th October 2019.

Source: www.billyduffy.com/memorabilia/the-cult-early-years-83-86/billys-harley-davidson-belt-buckle.

[portal-to-the-past]

The Thin Red Line (1998) alternative movie poster // Design by Tomer Hanuka

Source

[fic-ive-read]

Link To The Fic

Shout out to @crochetawayhpff I love their fics very much a lot and this fic is amazing ❤️

[arthurdrakoni]

The Plot Against America by Philip Roth imagines an alternate 1940s where Charles Lindbergh has been elected President of the United States. This is my review.

I have a bit of a habit about putting books that are popular or widely praised. I don't consciously avoid them, it just kind of happens that way. Still, I get around to them eventually. Occasionally they're underwhelming, but more often than not, I do genuinely enjoy them. Such is the case with The Plot Against America by Philip Roth. 

The Plot Against America begins in an alternate 1940. Celebrity aviator Charles Lindbergh has been elected President of the United States in a landslide victory over incumbent president Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Lindbergh has pledged to keep America out of the war in Europe and the Pacific. In fact, he's signed a non-aggression treaty with Germany and Japan. Still, many Americans, particularly Jewish American, worry that Lindbergh is getting a little too chummy with the Axis Powers. The story follows the turbulent years of the Lindbergh Administration through the eyes of young Philip Roth and his family.

This was one of those books that wasn't too high on my reading list until it was. I can't say what exactly prompted me to give this one a try. Maybe it was the miniseries adaption that HBO put out. I haven't watched the miniseries yet, but I do plan to. Maybe it was the various alternate history Facebook groups I take part in. Maybe it was something else entirely. Honestly, I can't really say. I will say that this book being part of the Audible Plus Catalogue was a nice bonus. Audible Plus is a new thing that Audible is doing. It's like Netflix, but with audiobooks.

Whatever the reason, I finally gave The Plot Against America a try, and I loved it. You will occasionally see literary fiction authors dip their toes into speculative fiction. However, this is the first time I've seen a literary fiction author try their hand at alternate history. Philip Roth ruffled some feathers when he made some comments that seemed to imply that he believed that he had invented the concept of alternate history. I haven't seen exactly where that went down, so I won't really comment on that.

I will say that Roth does an excellent job of combining his signature style with the alternate history setting. I took a look at some of Roth's other books in order to compare the writing style, and The Plot Against America defiantly fits the mold. There are segments of the book that almost feel weirdly nostalgic at times. Roth describes daily life in 1940s New Jersey in such loving detail, it can be easy to forget that you're reading an alternate history novel. And yes, this is a Philip Roth book, so it is pretty much required to take place in New Jersey.

One aspect I liked is that Jewish Americans are not a united front against Lindbergh. Sure, there are plenty, like the Roth family, who are weary of his policies, and actively push back against him. However, there are also Jews who are supportive of Lindbergh, or at least, believe he isn't that bad and can be reasoned with. Minorities are not a monolith, so I felt this added more realism. 

I guess this book goes to show that you can still do interesting things with World War II alternate history than just the typical Nazi Victory scenarios. 

Have you read The Plot Against America?  If so, what did you think?

Link to the full review on my blog: https://drakoniandgriffalco.blogspot.com/2021/12/book-review-plot-against-america-by.html?m=1

[hollers-and-holmes]

In 1942, the the Allied base on the Island of Malta was the object of more Italian and German air raids than anywhere else in the world. Food, water, munitions and men were growing dangerously scarce. Supply convoys dispatched from the mainland had been repeatedly thwarted by Axis naval forces patrolling the waters of the Mediterranean. Raids by the Luftwaffe were an almost daily reality, and those who survived them faced the very real threat of starvation.

A very AU Christmas gift story for @musewrangler!

[pebblegalaxy]

Human Smoke by Nicholson Baker: A Provocative Examination of World War II and the Case for Pacifism #BookReview #TBRChallenge #bookchatter @Blogchatter #AlternativeHistory

Human Smoke by Nicholson Baker: A Deep Dive into History and Morality Introduction: A Controversial Take on a Tumultuous Era Nicholson Baker’s Human Smoke is a book that has stirred deep emotions, provoked controversy, and challenged many historical narratives since its publication in 2008. At its core, it is a revisionist look at the lead-up to World War II, drawing heavily on a…

[nerds-yearbook]

In 1941, Germany overwhelmed Russia and exterminated most of the Slavic people (those allowed to live were sent to reservations). (The Man in the High Castle, BK)

[chiegetseven]

Danger Five trailer

This show is so funny it's unbelievable! If you're easily offended you probably won't like it because it is spoofing 60s TV shows with misogyny, homophobia, and racism being made fun of with this very campy style. If you're looking for fun, check it out!

[zvaigzdelasas]

[NewYorkTimes is Private US Media]

Over the past month, we’ve watched an astonishing, high-stakes global drama play out in The Hague. A group of countries from the poorer, less powerful bloc some call the global south, led by South Africa, dragged the government of Israel and, by extension, its rich, powerful allies into the top court of the Western rules-based order and accused Israel of prosecuting a brutal war in Gaza that is “genocidal in character.”

The responses to this presentation from the leading nations of that order were quick and blunt.

“Completely unjustified and wrong,” said a statement from Rishi Sunak, Britain’s prime minister.

“Meritless, counterproductive and completely without any basis in fact whatsoever,” said John Kirby, a spokesman for the United States National Security Council.

“The accusation has no basis in fact,” a German government spokesman said, adding that Germany opposed the “political instrumentalization” of the genocide statute.

But on Friday, that court had its say, issuing a sober and careful provisional ruling that doubled as a rebuke to those dismissals. In granting provisional measures, the court affirmed that some of South Africa’s allegations were plausible and called on Israel to take immediate steps to protect civilians, increase the amount of humanitarian aid and punish officials who engaged in violent and incendiary speech. The court stopped short of calling for a cease-fire, but it granted South Africa’s request for provisional measures to prevent further civilian death. For the most part, the court ruled in favor of the global south.[...]

The court was not asked to rule on whether Israel had in fact committed genocide, a matter that is likely to take years to adjudicate. Whatever the eventual outcome of the case, it sets up an epic battle over the meaning and values of the so-called rules-based order. If these rules don’t apply when powerful countries don’t want them to, are they rules at all?

“As long as those who make rules enforce them against others while believing that they and their allies are above those rules, the international governance system is in trouble,” Thuli Madonsela, one of South Africa’s leading legal minds and an architect of its post-apartheid Constitution, told me. “We say these rules are the rules when Russia invades Ukraine or when the Rohingya are being massacred by Myanmar, but if it’s now Israel butchering Palestinians, depriving them of food, displacing them en masse, then the rules don’t apply and whoever tries to apply the rules is antisemitic? It is really putting those rules in jeopardy.”[...]

The military campaign has “wreaked more destruction than the razing of Syria’s Aleppo between 2012 and 2016, Ukraine’s Mariupol or, proportionally, the Allied bombing of Germany in World War II,” the report quoted researchers as saying. The researchers, hardly some raving left-wing activists, are experts cited in one of the most respected news organizations in the world, The Associated Press.[...]

The International Court of Justice issued a nonbinding opinion in 2004 that the security barriers Israel was erecting in the West Bank violated international law, but that ruling has had no effect. The walls still stand.[...]

Indeed, what is a rules-based system if the rules apply only selectively and if seeking to apply them to certain countries is viewed as self-evidently prejudiced? To put it more simply, is there no venue in the international system to which the stateless people of Palestine and their allies and friends can go to seek redress amid the slaughter in Gaza? And if not, what are they to do?

For the cause of Palestinian statehood, every alternative to violence has been virtually snuffed out, in part because Israel’s allies have helped to discredit them. The most recent example is the boycott, divestment and sanctions movement that has, in many places, been successfully tarred as antisemitic or even banned altogether. Efforts to use the United Nations Security Council have drawn U.S. vetoes for decades. Is seeking redress at the appropriate venue for alleged violations of international law also antisemitic, as Israel’s defense minister said on Friday? Does no law apply to Israel? Are there no limits to what it may do to defend itself?[...]

The Biden administration has made the shoring up of the international rules-based order a centerpiece of its foreign policy but, unsurprisingly, has struggled to live up to that aspiration.[...]

Occasionally straying from your principles because circumstances require it is very different from being seen to have no principles at all, and that is precisely how much of the global south has come to regard the United States.

It seems especially shortsighted in these times that the Biden administration elected to wave away the carefully documented case prepared by South Africa. One of the biggest threats to the rules-based international order is the growing consensus in the poor world that the rich world will apply those rules selectively, at its discretion, when it suits the powerful nations that make up the global north, such as when Russia invaded Ukraine.[...]

As far as the rules-based order is concerned, when it comes to crimes like genocide and ethnic cleansing, it simply does not matter who started it. [...] The best way to shore up the rules-based order is to be seen, in word and deed, as committing to the institutions and moral commitments of that order.

28 Jan 24

[eroticcaa]

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀𝙉𝙊𝙒 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙔𝙄𝙉𝙂 ▸ 𝐵𝐿𝐴𝐶𝐾 𝑆𝐸𝐴

𝑌𝑂𝑈 𝑅𝐼𝑆𝐸, 𝐼 𝐹𝐴𝐿𝐿. 𝐼 𝑆𝑇𝐴𝑁𝐷, 𝑌𝑂𝑈 𝐶𝑅𝐴𝑊𝐿. 𝑌𝑂𝑈 𝑇𝑊𝐼𝑆𝑇, 𝐼 𝑇𝑈𝑅𝑁. 𝑊𝐻𝑂’𝑆 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝑅𝑆𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐵𝑈𝑅𝑁?

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

EPISODES: 7+ [updated!]

PAIRINGS: QIMIR x READER — SLIGHT!OSHA x READER.

Tags: !!EXPLICIT CONTENT!! MINORS DNI. — AFAB!READER, ANGST, ENEMIES TO LOVERS, INFIDELITY, JEALOUSY, FORCED!MARRIAGE, CORRUPTION, YEARNING, SHARED FORCE CONNECTION, AMNESIA, DEATH, FORCE!SENSITIVE!READER, SMUT.

SUMMARY: You were the empress of The Assai, located on the Planet Eadu in the Unknown Region. A beautiful world known for its dry, sandy, rocky terrain and hot weather. The waters surrounding the cities were murky black waters, at night it glimmered with a green phosphorescence. People's attire consists of a red cloak, black mask or veils, skin covered in tattoos or runes. Your planet became a ruin, because of the Jedi. They believed that a powerful Sith Lord were to be alive or reincarnated on this planet. If only they knew it was something much darker, sinister.

Note: just a little heads up, this is an Alternate Universe at play — Star Wars, peeks of Game Of Thrones, House Of The Dragon, Marvel’s Scarlet Witch. This will not have anything to do with the canon storyline! Some scenes will be used from the show just altered.

ACT I: 𝑇𝐸𝐿𝐿 𝑀𝐸, 𝑊𝐻𝑌 𝐷𝑂𝐸𝑆 𝑀𝑌 𝐻𝐸𝐴𝑅𝑇𝐵𝑈𝑅𝑁 𝑊𝐻𝐸𝑁 𝐼 𝑆𝐸𝐸 𝑌𝑂𝑈𝑅 𝐹𝐴𝐶𝐸?

episode zero

episode one

episode two

ACT II: 𝐼 𝐹𝐸𝐸𝐿 𝐼𝑇 𝑅𝑈𝑁𝑁𝐼𝑁’ 𝑇𝐻𝑅𝑂𝑈𝐺𝐻 𝑀𝑌 𝑉𝐸𝐼𝑁𝑆, 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐼 𝑁𝐸𝐸𝐷 𝑇𝐻𝐴𝑇 𝐹𝐼𝑅𝐸 𝐽𝑈𝑆𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐾𝑁𝑂𝑊 𝑇𝐻𝐴𝑇 𝐼’𝑀 𝐴𝑊𝐴𝐾𝐸. [COMING SOON]

———

© EROTICCAA 2024.

thank you sm for the reblogs, likes & comments! ima try to keep this series short but I fear it may be long, I didn’t expect to go crazy on this but my docs are filled with lore of how the reader will come to be how she is.