My father was martyred by Israel on 10 October 2023 after sacrificing his care in hospital so the injured children could take priority. Today would have been his 60th birthday. He was always selfless, kind, and giving for others. My father gave up everything for me to be able to have a better life, because that is what he always dreamed for me and my sister. The world suffered a great loss when he died, and my heart is always with him and every Palestinian who has lost someone.
In his honour and memory, I would love for anyone who is able to do so to consider donating to The Palestine Children’s Relief Fund.
The PCRF is an amazing organisation that does so much for those in Gaza right now, including helping provide food, water and medicine. You can donate any amount you are able to- there is no minimum! My father would have given his very last cent if he saw the way Palestine was continuing to suffer after over 100 days with this limited aid, so I know celebrating him by helping others is the least he would have wanted.
I saw @parrot-parent do a very successful donation match and I thought it was such a good idea so I will also match all donations up to $500! If you feel comfortable sending me proof of the amount of your donation, I will match it as a donation at the end of February. (My messages are set to mutuals only, but if you donate and we aren’t mutuals if you send an ask with the proof I will make sure to answer it privately.)
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Congrats on the 10k!! Can i get a Baby Blurb: Tywin x reader. Where reader is nervous to tell Tywin that she's pregnant. Tywin of course its in heaven with the news
Thank you so much and Omg yes yes yes I got a bit carried away w this one lmao
Warnings: arranged/political marriage, pregnancy, canon-typical ideas surrounding women/a woman’s place/duty of childbirth. Westeros is a patriarchal society basically. Significant age gap (reader is early 20s, Tywin is in his 50s)
Wringing your hands nervously, you straightened the (already straight) cutlery for the fourth time. To say you were nervous was an understatement. Tywin Lannister was not a man to be summoned.
And yet you had done so. His wife, a woman thirty years his junior, had sent Tywin Lannister’s own guard to request his presence in your chambers.
“Lord Tywin Lannister, Hand of the King,” the guard announced as he opened the door, and you stood up straighter, smoothing out the front of your gown.
“My lady,” Tywin said, his brow arched and a bemused smirk on his lips. “This is a surprise,”
You ducked your head under his domineering gaze, and gestured for him to sit, pouring his wine as he sat as though you were a common wench.
“I…” you trailed off, too nervous to quip at your relatively new husband. “I thought it would be nice… I’m sure the Hand’s chambers can get… lonely?”
Tywin let out a short laugh. “Sit, wife. You are not a serving wench,” he said, nodding to your seat (though the idea of you being in his service made his blood run a little warmer). Obediently, you sat down across from him, staring at your own empty goblet, unable to look into his sharp green eyes for more than a millisecond.
“Out with it,” he commanded, though his voice was not cruel. “You clearly wish to tell me something. So do it,”
You stuttered slightly, fiddling with the ruby that hung around your neck. “I… my lord,” you began, before taking a deep calming breath. “I… I have reason to believe that… that I may be with child,”
You bowed your head, unable to look at his face. His chair scraped as he stood, but the slam of the door never came. Heavy footsteps echoed through the room, and he came to your side, tipping your chin up to look at him. “Truly? When did you last bleed?” As your face heated, he shook his head. “I am a grown man, wife, I know the workings of women. When did you last bleed?”
“Before our wedding, My Lord,” you whispered. “I thought the first time I missed my moonblood was… was the change of moving to the capital… but then it did not come again… and I have not bled this moon either,”
Tywin Lannister knelt before you, so you were forced to look down at the Great Lion.
“Then we must get you to the maester immediately,” he insisted. “And to the tailor, I will not have my wife walking around in ill-fitting gowns. And I shall have your chambers moved closer to mine,” You smiled weakly. “Do you feel ill? In pain? You must tell the maester of any hurt, no matter how small. You are carrying my son, now YN, your health and his is paramount,”
You glowed under his gaze and affection, but a worried thought crossed your mind and you bit your lip. “But what if… what if it is a girl?" you whispered, and you expected him to glower at the thought.
"if the baby is indeed a girl, my lady," he began, bringing your knuckles to his lips in a rare display of affection. "then we must simply try again. I will have a son off you, no matter how many sisters he must have first,"
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