Drivers Under The Qatar Spotlight...😮

“And who are you?,” the proud Lord said “That I must bow so low”

Only a cat of a different coat That’s all the truth I know

In a coat of gold or a coat of red A lion still has claws And mine are long and sharp, my lord As long and sharp as yours

____________________________

Belgium had never seen her brother in such a state before. He was pale and determined as he tore the letter from Spain to pieces. She knew what it had said. It had said that he must pacify William of Orange, or Spain would do it for him.

Spain’s fury was familiar, the look of abject anger on the Netherlands’ face was new. Though he was an imposing man with a stern demeanor, he was rarely angry. A stranger might read his quiet or his blunt nature as anger, she knew him well enough to know that it was not. This deathly silent man, white as porcelain, with a vein pounding in his temple, was truly angry.

She had wanted to say something to him since he had gotten the letter, but it was hard to imagine what could be said. She cleared her throat and tried, “You should speak to him. Surely he will understand if you go to Madrid.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, and it made her jump. It was the first sound he had made since he received the letter. It only confirmed his deep anger.

Then, he spoke, “I have already told him that his taxes are too high. I have told him that his lack of tolerance for protestants is unreasonable. I have told him so many times that he must respect my nobility. I have said everything to him before, and he still sends me this. No, I am done talking to him.”

He held up the pieces of the letter, like she could not already guess what he was talking about.

She folded her anxious hands together so that they would not shake. His tone was worrying her deeply. She said, “But, what else is there to do? He is our lord whether you like it or not.”

He fixed his eyes on her, and they were deep and unyielding. Silently, he took the pieces of the letter and threw them into the fire. Then, he took every letter and order that he had piled in front of him, and placed them into the fire.

Belgium gasped and put a hand to her chest. He couldn’t mean what she imagined he meant by this.

The Netherlands watched the letters burn for a moment, and then said, “I do not accept his right to rule. I think it is time that we drove him out.”

She repeated, shock seizing her vocal cords, “‘We?‘ This is madness! He owns half of the world, and you think you can fight him.”

The Netherlands scoffed again, and said, “I know I am small, as David was to Goliath. I will win, because God favors me, and I will slay this giant.”

He took the rosary from his neck, the one that Spain insisted he wear, and tossed it into the fire as well.

Seeing the look of shock and horror on his sister’s face, he explained, “Antonio is corrupt, and his church in Rome is rotten to the core. I will have no more of either of them.”

She put her hand to her own cross, scared that he might take that next. Tears, from fear for him, welled up in her eyes. Her older brother, who had been her companion for as long as she could remember, felt like a stranger to her.

He was past her kind words or soothing touch, and it scared her. Nothing she knew would bring him back to reason. She felt tears coming in earnest now.

He stopped in his fit of destruction, and took her free hand in his own. He said, in the soft voice he had always used when she was upset, “Emma, don’t cry. Come with me, and we will make a new Republic for ourselves away from this cruel tyrant with tolerance and beauty.”

She felt like she could not swallow past the thick feeling in her throat. Looking at him hurt. She said, tears slipping down her cheeks as she spoke, “I cannot go with you, and I cannot bear the thought of Antonio hurting you. You know what he did in the New World-”

Her voice broke as she thought of the tales of cruelty that they had both heard. She couldn’t even imagine that happening to her brother.

Her vision swam with tears as she said, “Please don’t do this. Find some other way.”

He shook his head resolutely, “There is no other way for me except this.”

_____________________________

Dutch Revolt (1568–1648), APH Spain, Belgium, and the Netherlands

Delicate spring florals

This is very random but would you please do Shizuku in D5 and Seiji in D2 (from whisper of the heart)

naur naur its true..

clothing prompt

...keep your enemies closer

hbd cutie.

Max Verstappen, Australian Grand Prix 2022.

Christopher Plummer as the Duke of Wellington (Waterloo, 1970)

16th century major actors (big picture here because tumblr is a butt)

+ these major babs actors

One of them is not like the others

ah yes that’s it

hey, big shout out to the first public himbo supporter, the original lady of the one brain cell beefcake

she was ahead of her time

Arthur looks fly af, we really don't appreciate colourful clothing in medical setting, nice to see some change!

 i concur! arthur looks v fly in full technicolour

but i also appreciate him his princely best incognito mode

because he is both apprehensive and v eager to follow a handsome archer into a tryst outside the palace walls OWO 

Bourbon High.

(Omar Ulmer x Female!Reader)

For the lovely @tsukkimochi really hope you enjoy this fic ❤️❤️

💗💗

"(Y/n) are you sure about this?" Omar asked as he exited his sleeping cot. (Y/n) smirked, patting him on the back as a means to comfort him. "Don't worry so much, we will be back before they even notice we're gone." (Y/n) reasoned, turning her back to him and beginning to walk slowly, avoiding any small twig and or stone that might cause noise. Omar sighed, before following in her steps.

Throughout their relationship, (Y/n) has always been the more daring one. Even before the war, she would be constantly chastised by her mother for putting herself and Omar in danger. Not that (Y/n) really cared for her words. The thrill was too great. She would never put anyone in danger on purpose, but sometimes, the trouble would find them. "Where the hell are we going anyway? Won't the enemy have swarmed every town in France by now?" Omar inquired. In hindsight, his question would have brought up concerns, but (Y/n) was prepared for that.

"From the last patrol report, there's still one more town that these fucks haven't taken over. Just so happens that this town has got the best drinks. Besides, if shit hits the fan, we got fake papers and you can just pretend you're mute." (Y/n) proposed, giggling when she saw Omar's expression. She would always tease him about his inability to learn languages. "Fine but as soon as we see one Kraut, we are leaving." Omar stated. (Y/n) grinned and placed a loving kiss on his cheek. "You're the best."

The two continued to walk until they reached the small town, which seemed to have a small festival of sorts. Beautiful lights were lit, their holders decorated with various flowers. It looked as if people were also dancing. Which made (Y/n) giddy. Omar smiled, he knew what a swinger his girl was. "We have to go and dance after we drink." (Y/n) suggested, still keeping a low voice. The town might not have been captured, but those weasels had eyes, basically everywhere. They couldn't risk being heard speaking English. Once the two entered the bar, (Y/n) ordered two bourbons, taking a seat next to Omar. Bourbon has always been a go to drink for them. It tasted amazing and the burn of the throat provided a high that few liquors could match. Apparently, they underestimated the high.

"Do you *hic* remember when the *hic* Lieutenant nearly fell over?" ( Y/n) asked. Omar clutched his stomach, letting out a bellowing laugh. "Stooooop!" He begged. The couple continued to have their fun, completely unaware that it was well over three AM. When they walked back, trying desperately to hold each other up, they still thought that no one would be awake. "Phew, thank God the Lieutenant ain't awake, huh?" Omar said with a grin, making (Y/n) nod excitedly. Just then, the camp lamp was lit up.

"Try that again, Ulmer." That southern twang in the voice made both of them stand at attention. There was Aldo, sitting on a tree stump, with a very displeased look on his face. "Explain. Now." He ordered. They had never heard him sound so serious. Omar began to shake and stumble on his words, while (Y/n) was trying to think of something to say. "W-we were with the Staff Sergeant sir!" (Y/n) stated, thinking it would work. Aldo raised an eyebrow, turning his finger to point to a passed out Donny near a tree. (Y/n) swore under her breath and Omar felt like he was gonna die. "Now how is our Sergeant passed out over there, while you two come here, last midnight, drunk as all hell? How the fuck does that work?" Aldo inquired, voice raising in anger, though he tried to avoid waking the others. Trust Aldo when he says you don't want to see a Hugo who has had his sleep disturbed.

"Do you two have any idea what danger ya'll could'a put us in? We're in enemy territory goddamnit!" Aldo stated. "Not only did you sneak out, you went and got drunk! Fucking great!" Aldo exclaimed. It wasn't that he was mad at them directly. He understood that sometimes, especially during times like these, people would need a little breather. But this was something else completely.

"Sir we-"

"I ain't finished (L/n)."

Aldo interrupted, effectively shutting (Y/n) up. The man sighed, his fingers squeezing his temple. " I don't need to worry about you two acting like fuckin' kids! Who's idea was it?" Aldo asked. Omar and (Y/n) looked at each other, Omar opening his mouth to speak when (Y/n) jumped in. "It was my idea, sir. We were just trying to have fun and I dragged Omar-" (Y/n) stammered, before she was interrupted. A pair of strong hands dragged them both into a bear-like hug. To say that they were confused would be an understatement. "Um...sir?" Omar asked. Aldo sighed and pulled away, his hands remained on both of their shoulders.

"You two had me scared half to death... I promised I'd get ya home, didn't I?"

The two looked down, feeling guilty. "We are sorry, sir. It won't happen again."Omar stated and (Y/n) seconded that. Aldo smirked, before a strong yawn broke through. "Good, I accept both of your apologies but you will be punished accordingly for it." Aldo announced with a grin, making (Y/n) and Omar both groan. Aldo patted them on their backs. "Go on, off to bed and if I catch you again, I swear on my momma lll whoop both ya' asses. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir!"

(Y/n) and Omar returned to his sleeping cot, Omar still shaking a little. They huddled close, Omar placing a hand over her. "I am never following you anywhere again." Omar stated. (Y/n) laughed, placing a kiss on his jaw. " Whatever you say, sweetheart." She said, drifting in drunk sleep. Omar smiled. Despite the inevitable hangover tomorrow, Omar was thankful for the time he got to spend with you. It was through you that he figured out what love was...and that you should never underestimate bourbon.

@jiejie-eonni-onee-sama @empress-writes @fandoms-are-my-friends-1321 @tsukkimochi @jokersqueenofchaos @aurelie34-43 @sergeant-donny-donowitz @struggling-bee